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2020-09-12
Jewish Melbourne: Project High Holy Days Selichot
The Rabbinical Council of Victoria's Project High Holy Days organised an online Selichot gathering involving many congregations -
2020-08-30
Brighton Hebrew Congregation Facebook Post
Jewish Melbourne (Shabbat) -
2020-04-01
“It really hasn't affected my faith or beliefs in any way particular."
“It really hasn't affected my faith or beliefs in any way particular. I still am able to read my Bible and pray and do all the same things I would do at church just from my home. My beliefs haven't changed everything that I feel and believe has stayed the same especially with like Easter that just happened. We were still able to celebrate that holiday as a family although we weren't like all together and at church but the point of the holiday is our beliefs so essentially we were still able to celebrate that from home.” -
2020-04-01
“You know... I've kind of given that a lot of thought..."
“You know... I've kind of given that a lot of thought just because so many people so many programs I've been watching people are saying like this is a punishment or that God is trying to say something and I actually don't feel like it's impacted my faith because I've already had so much happened to me in my past with the death of my children so this is just another glitch in life I guess.” -
2020-04-16
Church Sign Announcing Online Services
Local churches are still managing to have services using online resources. This church in Soldiers Grove, WI is not able to meet in person but are still able to connect the congregation. This is one branch of a larger group of churches located in southwest Wisconsin. -
2020-04-24
Church donations have plunged because of the coronavirus. Some churches won’t survive.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, churches are being hit hard. They are facing a decrease in donations, making it difficult for them to stay afloat. This is due to their masses being cancelled or moved online. Congregations are beginning to make difficult decisions of whether or not to close their doors or cut the work of their staff. #REL101 -
2020-04-17
Pastoring through a Pandemic
It’s Saturday night, March 21, and my son and I have spent pretty much all day creating an iMovie Sunday morning worship service for my two congregations. Now we can’t figure out how to upload it from Aidan’s school-issued computer onto YouTube. This is the first time I’ve had to do this all online. I call Allysen, a teacher in the school district and a member of one of my churches. She suggests I try putting it on a flash drive. It’s 11:55 p.m. My son’s computer is set to turn off at midnight and won’t open up again until 6 a.m. I frantically run downstairs and search for a flash drive in an attempt to transfer the iMovie of the worship service from his computer to mine. My kitchen drawers are a mess. I can’t find a flash drive. I can never find anything when I need it in my disaster of a house. On Facebook Messenger Allysen says, “Just sleep for now and do it in the morning. Your church goers should be a forgiving lot even if it isn’t ready right at 8:30 a.m.” I can’t go to sleep. In a world where nothing is going right, where everything has changed, where this is the first opportunity to prove that I can adapt and lead and be of help to the congregations I love as we navigate these unchartered waters, I need this to happen. I realize my iPhone has iMovie on it. It’s 12:10 a.m. when I open a new “project” and begin to import all the pieces I originally worked with on Aidan’s computer. The video clips of Mom and Jill singing the hymns; the video of Allysen reading scripture (the video that had taken hours to download via Google drive); the short little clip of the Smorstad family sharing the peace, sweet twin boys—age 9 months—giggling and drooling. God, I miss them all. Aidan had told me it would be too difficult to add the words of the hymns to the screen, but I do it. At 1 a.m. I figure out how to add photos of the hymns as cutaways to the movie. I discover this by mistake. I’m pressing buttons without knowing what I’m doing. I swear it feels like the Spirit has given me the button I need. I forget to give thanks. I’m too busy making a movie that is somehow also a worship service for two congregations that can no longer meet in person. Seminary has not prepared me for this. I have a YouTube channel only because I had used it to share videos of my sister’s senior trombone recital years before. I had never made an iMovie. Now I’ve made one between the hours of midnight and 3 a.m. It’s done and I’m proud of it. I’ve gone from waking up at 7 a.m. on Friday morning with the idea of including multiple parishioners in the making of the movie—to being ready to upload it to YouTube at 3 a.m. on Sunday morning. In the future, I’ll allow more time. But it won’t make it any easier. For each piece that becomes routine and knowable, another piece becomes a challenge. How to convert files that aren’t allowed by iMovie? Google it. Pay $6 for an app that will do the conversion. Problem solved. How to create hymn files when your mom refuses to keep singing for these worship services? Sister to the rescue. She discovers openhymnal.org. I play the midi file of the hymn through old, donated speakers attached to my work computer, place my iPhone at the perfect distance from the speakers (too close and it’s fuzzy; too far away and it’s too soft—this I learned through much trial and error), hit the voice memo record button on my phone and try my best to have some sort of decent breath support as I sing the public domain hymns that I can include without worrying about copyright infringement. It would help if I could breathe. It would help if I could sleep. It would help if I wasn’t trying to do this, basically, all alone. It would help if I could turn over the movie production to some high school student who loves such things and who could do it all easily and maybe even enjoy it. But now I feel like it’s my job. I think I should be spending more time calling my people, but I can’t seem to manage much calling. Each conversation leaves me absolutely spent. I sob after each goodbye. I miss these people. I don’t want to make phone calls or iMovies. I want to give hugs. I want to talk face to face, leaning in to listen well, holding hands as we pray for hope and healing. The night before Easter I can’t sleep. Awake at 2 a.m., I watch the worship service created by my good friend, a volunteer music director in a neighboring town. The service is beautiful. I love my friend. And I miss her. At 3 a.m. I watch another worship service created by another dear friend, a pastor in my corner of Iowa, skipping ahead to get to her sermon. I’ve already read it, as she asked me two days before for input, but now I get to hear it. Receive it. It’s beautiful. Needed. At 4 a.m. I click on YouTube news and lay in bed listening to death counts. It’s Easter morning. At 5 a.m. I get out of bed and go to church. I’m supposed to join an invitation-only zoom gathering by 5:40 a.m. My computer is sluggish and won’t load the meeting. I hate technology. I hate being so damn dependent on it. Christ can rise from the dead but can’t make this computer do what it’s supposed to do. I finally use my iPhone to connect to the meeting. It’s a gathering of women from around the world, an informal worship service of sorts that grew out of a single Tweet. “How to faithfully celebrate Easter this year: Only women on the Zoom call. Call is scheduled before dawn. We speak only of impossible things that would topple the empire.” It turns out to be the most meaningful Easter worship service I’ve ever experienced. As each woman is called by name—just as Jesus called Mary Magdalene by name in the garden outside the empty tomb—we give our testimony. We talk about where we’ve seen the Lord. I think I’m going to say something about the church in which I grew up. How they used the Bible to tell me women couldn’t pastor—I couldn’t preach—but God said yes! But instead, a song I’ve written comes to mind. And my testimony is this: I know that death is real but it will never be the end. I know the song goes on and dancing feet are powerful. I worship later with my family, watching myself lead worship on the television screen in our living room. I smile at my on-screen self. I can’t help it. I want to dance. -
2020-03-27
Prayers restricted across Central Minnesota mosques amid COVID-19 fears
The article discusses the fears regarding religious gatherings and COVID-19 in central Minnesota. Specifically, the mosques and islamic religious centers of central Minnesota recently called for an end of mass gatherings, prayers, meetings, and weekend classes until it would be considered safe to do so. While many members of the community agree with the decision of local congregation leaders, many have concerns with the virus interrupting the famous islamic tradition and holiday of Ramadan. As Ramadan starts in April and lasts well through May, many people are worried they will not get to pray or worship during this religious holiday. While congregation leaders have not quite extended shut downs that far in advance yet, they said they will not hesitate to act in order to protect the community. -
2020-04-08
Cantor preparing for virtual Passover seder - Temple Emanuel, Dallas
Our congregation in Dallas, Temple Emanuel, put a huge amount of effort into creating a virtual seder. About 250 computers participated, probably about 500 people. Our clergy led, and congregants also participated by reading the Hagaddah. We don't have a collective congregational seder tradition, so this is an innovation for Covid-19. Our clergy, rabbis and cantors, put in a lot of effort organizing this. This picture is of one of our senior cantor. She has equipment at home now to lead virtual services, a reflection of the resources and effort it takes to keep a large congregation going through this time. -
2020-03-19
Priest gives sermon to an empty congregation. Parishioners replaced with images of themselves.
Dear First Parish Family, I saw this story yesterday and I was touched by the thoughtful and creative idea. Father Guiseppe Corbari pastors a church in Italy, and rather than live-stream in an empty sanctuary, he asked the church family to send in photographs of themselves. He printed them off and put them in the pews. I love the idea of having you in the sanctuary with me as we observe the physical distancing recommendations. Please send your photos to me (scott.cousineau@firstparishsaco.org). I would love to see your faces looking back at me on Sunday morning! Grace and Peace to you, Scott