Curing The Church Of Long Covid

I have a confession to make: For several months in 2021, I met illegally as part of the Australian underground church. We worshipped on Sydney’s clifftops, gathered in each other’s homes, met up on remote beaches, and even fellowshipped in the back of campervans.

It all sounds a bit surreal now — even comical — but at the time, police were patrolling the streets, violators faced fines, and pastors who continued holding church services were subject to legal action. All the while, brothels and bottle shops were open for business.

Australia became infamously hysterical over the Wuhan sniffles. While most Western nations had their free trial of communism for several months, ours dragged on for years. Vaccine mandates ruled the day. Melbourne endured 262 cumulative days of madness to earn the title “most locked-down city in the world.”

Laugh at Australia if you like, but the entire world was gripped by madness during the Covid era — and worst of all, the Western church fell largely silent when our voice was needed most.

Years have passed. Churches have reopened. Our focus has shifted to other pressing issues and congregational needs. But the church’s capitulation on Covid is yet to be truly confronted.

Some may retort, “Get over it.” To that, I respond, “Would that be your advice to someone battling long Covid?”

The analogy is apt. The Western church is suffering from its own variant of long Covid. There is a spiritual lethargy about us, an ecclesiastical brain fog, a cluster of unnamed but abiding chronic symptoms that are crying out for a cure.

Fortunately, Jesus Himself has given us that cure.

“Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift.” (Matthew 5:23-24).

In the context I have laid out above, I believe this passage would apply to the pastors, elders and other church leaders whom the Lord tasked with shepherding His people, but who sadly let the wolves roam for far too long during the dark days of Covid.

As a former Baptist pastor myself, I do not envy the difficult circumstances they had to navigate, and I am quietly thankful the Lord led me into a different vocation just before the world went mad. Nonetheless, flocks were scattered, sheep injured and lost lambs wandered away during this period, and the shortcomings of those in spiritual authority during this time needs to be addressed.. 

The good news is  that reconciliation awaits every shepherd willing to humble himself, confess his mistakes, and ask for forgiveness.

Of course, there is grace for church leaders who shut their doors at the first news of a pandemic and allowed short-term restrictions while the threat was being assessed. Given the limited information available at the time, I would not argue that such short-term closures were sinful.

But what does require repentance is the giving up of meeting together in exchange for endless months of “Zoom church,” the co-opting of Jesus’ command to “love your neighbour” in service of just-so bureaucratic diktat, the marketing of medical products whose risks were always a known unknown, the deafening silence in the face of untold human rights violations, and the capitulation of all divine authority to the state.

To quote Jesus again, “Consider how far you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place.” (Revelation 2:5).

And, “Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest and repent.” (Revelation 3:19).

Maybe you are such a leader, and are the only one among your church leadership who is willing to apologise. Do it anyway.

Maybe doing so would mean confronting some long-standing idols or belligerent gatekeepers in your congregation. Do it anyway.

Maybe this means putting your reputation or even your income on the line. Obedience to Christ is more important, so do it anyway.

Not too many years into the future, the early 2020s will be looked back on as one of the most consequential turning points in the history of Western evangelicalism. As the church and as individual believers, we will answer to God for how we responded to the unique challenges of our day. Let’s make sure we get it right.

The world around us is shaking. People are desperate for hope. The “fields ripe for harvest” of which Jesus spoke now include the vaccine injured, lost souls disaffected by lockdowns and mandates, and people cut off from their friends and family for holding to “conspiracy theories” that turned out to be conspiracy facts.

Is there room for them in our churches? Are there Christian leaders they can trust — who once got it wrong but have now made it right?

The answer, dear shepherd, is up to you.