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As we reflect on the past year since COVID-19 was declared a pandemic, we want to lift up stories of Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary alums who are rising every day to the challenges and opportunities facing congregations and communities. Our alums have been addressing head-on the impact of COVID-19 and the related pandemics of virulent systemic racism and accelerating economic disparity. The past year has been exhausting, and yet our alums have led with resilience and creativity. These congregational leaders, chaplains, therapists, and non-profit leaders are faithfully responding to God’s call during these challenging times.

Claudia Lee Dorsch Master of Arts in Pastoral Care and Counseling, 2018

Hospital Chaplain, UnityPoint Health Dubuque, Iowa

When Public Health of Dubuque County announced the first case of COVID-19 on March 19, 2020, the visitor restrictions took effect in my hospital shortly after. Patients could not have any visitors, including family members, friends, Eucharistic ministers, and local clergy people. While many healthcare facilities even suspended in-person spiritual care to patients in quarantine or in isolation rooms, I started visiting patients with COVID-19 after I received appropriate personal protective equipment.

The fear of dying alone was overwhelming to everyone. People experienced helplessness and hopelessness. I recalled telling a dying patient repeatedly that I would be there for her during the final moment with hand holding. I realized the perceived abandonment and loneliness were the lies from my ego. My patient was not alone, and I was never alone. The fear closed us off to recognize that we were in this together.

It appeared to many that all doors were closed due to the pandemic; God opened many doors for me to enter, including allowing me to meet patients who have no religious affiliation and who struggled to make sense of their illness and suffering. Due to HIPPA concerns, medical staff could not be a part of the virtual visits using social media or video conference tools for medical discussion or updates. I was able to utilize telehealth programs to initiate family meetings with medical staff, even for the bereavement rituals at the time of transition. During the Ethics Committee meetings, our members discussed the moral distress and ethical dilemma on rationing scarce resources, such as who might get the last ICU bed or the ventilator. Dubuque is a small city with about 60,000 residents, yet the hospital serves the Tri-state area with a population over 200,000. Communication was critical for the patient care. The priority of my ministry became bridging the communication gap. I spent more time providing emotional and spiritual support to the medical staff and established a staff support program known as “Code Lavender.”

My seminary years prepared me to be resourceful and to advocate for my hospital staff, patients, families, and clergy people. The diversity-inclusive nature of Garrett-Evangelical made me acutely aware of the vulnerable minorities in my community as Dubuque has less than five percent of non-White population, and Roman Catholic is the dominant denomination. Some of my older patients, family members, and their faith leaders learned to cope with the temporary separation; for others, the separation felt eternal. The pandemic has closed the usual ways of human connection, but the love of God invited us to be creative and bold in reaching people beyond the normal boundaries.

On the anniversary date of our first COVID-19 admission, I shared this statement:

“…We also mourn the loss of those patients. They are family members and friends. Each one had made contribution to our community in their own ways. We join those families and friends in their grief as each loss struck our core for who we are and why we do what we do… May the peace of God be with us all.”

Rev. Gregory D. Gross Master of Divinity, 2003

Executive Director, Care for Real, Chicago, Illinois

In the middle of the multitude of pandemics, I assumed the position of executive director of Care for Real, one of the largest food pantries in Chicago. In my new ministry setting, I have witnessed how the pandemics are so intertwined if not in one single knot. The COVID-19 pandemic led to a 23 percent increase in food insecurity in the Chicago region as folks, many of whom were already one paycheck away from crisis, lost their jobs. And unsurprisingly, people of color are disproportionately impacted.

At Care for Real, we saw a 143 percent increase in first-time visitors to our food pantry in 2020 over the previous year, while distributing nearly two million pounds of food to our neighbors in need. What is most incredible to me is that on any single morning the line of neighbors waiting to receive free groceries looks like the United Nations, with myriad backgrounds represented and at least 12-15 different languages spoken. This is absolutely the most diverse collection of individuals and families I’ve been blessed to serve. Each is the face of the divine and each in need of that most basic of needs: food.

Every morning, I speak with someone making their first visit ever to a food pantry, folks who never thought they would be in a position of needing to ask for food. Nearly every person will share with me that they held out as long as possible to make ends meet before working up the courage or overcoming their shame in needing help. The stigma associated with visiting a food pantry is strong in our nation. Oh, how our misplaced focus on rugged individualism has caused damage. That so many people would choose to go hungry rather than ask for help illustrates the systemic challenges we must overcome.

At the same time, I’m regularly surprised when I share that we seek to tailor the groceries to individual dietary restrictions and preferences and am met by surprise. For example, many of our clients do not eat pork for religious reasons, while others are vegetarian or diabetic. Many do not want canned foods and only want fresh fruits and vegetables. When I have shared this with folks wanting to organize canned food drives, I am often met with a variation on “beggars can’t be choosers.” When did serving the least, the last, and the lost, mean serving only the least palatable, last food I’d eat myself or the lost can of peas in the back of the cupboard, which I just found and is now expired? The implications of “beggars can’t be choosers” become even more convicting when we remember that households of color are disproportionately food insecure. How quickly we forget the many parables of welcoming folks to the banquet feast. No wonder folks are reluctant to go to a pantry. They are afraid the only groceries they’ll receive are the rejected groceries from our own kitchens.

My ministry as an ordained deacon in The United Methodist Church calls me to work for justice and compassion. This means serving each visitor to the community food pantry — literally our neighbor — with dignity and compassion. Whether this takes the form of culturally appropriate food, a volunteer who can serve them in their native language, or funding to expand our service to other communities in need, this is my ministry.

Rev. Carla M. Mitchell Master of Divinity, 2016

Staff Chaplain, Village of Manor Park and Associate Pastor, Milwaukee, Wisconsin

I strongly believe that this pandemic is being used by God (not caused by God) to allow us — the world — to reset ourselves spiritually. I am touched when I read that in spite of the challenges of this pandemic, families and friends have become closer and more connected.

Now, let me not act like this has been “awesome” for everyone because it hasn’t been, but it has been powerful to see people really trying to find the blessings in this “new normal.”

I am experiencing resurrection because people are finding and experiencing God in new ways. I am seeing resurrection in how people are being creative in helping those who are struggling, who have lost jobs and businesses, who are alone and emotionally suffering.

During this pandemic we’ve also seen social injustice in the brutal murder of George Floyd and other people of color and witnessed domestic tyranny in the attack on our nation’s capital. We’ve also seen a severe rise in attacks against Asian Americans and that’s equally disturbing to me as a woman of color. I was moved when I saw people of all races protesting and speaking out against social injustice and systemic racism. We ALL deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. America is great because of our diversity and that needs to always be lifted up and celebrated!

Rev. Jon Gilbert Martinez Master of Divinity, 2019

Designated-Term Pastor for Christ Church UCC-Des Plaines, Communications Consultant for The Colectivo de UCC Latinx Ministries, and Vice-Chair of the UCC Mental Health Network, Chicago, Illinois

When I set out to answer my call to ministry, I never imagined that I would be serving during a global pandemic. I have seen many challenges during this pandemic: people’s need to come together for worship services, the limitations for those who live with mental illness to easily connect with resources, and rising food insecurity.

Garrett-Evangelical helped me acquire theological and pastoral care skills that have come in handy not only in my call but also on the board I serve. For example, at San Lucas UCC, where I served as a digital outreach minister, I was able to see why the congregation desired a way to connect. In response, I was able to work with our senior minister to establish an online donation platform to receive funds to feed those who live with food insecurity. I also began editing and creating worship services to engage our congregation.

In the middle of it all, I have found God in the silence I share with someone. I have found God in supporting families who had to say their final farewell to loved ones. I have seen God in the stranger who found my bumper sticker on being kind speaking to him amidst so much tragedy. Christ’s resurrection is happening daily in the connections that I am blessed to make as pastoral care has ushered itself into the digital age.

Lisa Lackey Master of Arts in Christian Education, 1992

Chief Engagement Officer and Co-Owner, Insideout Living, Inc, Evanston, Illinois

Even though 2020 is in the rearview mirror, we are all sorting through the collateral damage of three pandemics. This was not anything that any of us could have ever planned for. Suddenly, the entire world was in a state of trauma, with no letup and only tiny pockets to temporarily regulate.

As a psychotherapist, business owner, Black woman, wife, mother, grandmother, and the only child of an elderly mother who lives out of town, the challenges have been more overwhelming than I fully know.

On March 17, 2020, we shut down our offices and grabbed what was needed to set up a home office and transition to an online therapy platform. Our clients and staff needed to be supported in different ways, ways that I had not planned for. Lives were falling apart, finances were impacted, depression and anxiety increased, homes were filled with children who needed to be taught, college students were forced into online learning, and social contact was no longer an option. Our business was busier, and there were few opportunities for personal self-care.

And then, George Floyd.

It was a level of racism that the country had not known, ever. Not that racism had ever changed, we just never witnessed it from a front-row seat, with no details spared. The majority of our clients are White men and women. This created an unusual opportunity for the clients and me. The pandemic of racism hit me harder in many ways than the other two. I am a Black woman.

A large portion of what I do and who I am is to be an usher, providing a presence of safety, making room for people to speak the unspeakable, walk THROUGH the valleys, shadows, and graveyards that have been avoided. As a clinician, speaker, consultant, corporate trainer, and facilitator of messy conversations, my audience is often people who have become weary from the shortcuts and workarounds taken to sidestep THROUGH.

The pandemic of racism is certainly an issue that many of my clients would have preferred to find a shortcut to avoid the awkwardness of having to talk about it with this Black woman, who is an integral part of their lives.

During this time, I am called to highlight what would so easily be left in the shadows. I speak about the cost of continuing to make racism unspeakable. I acknowledge the traumatic impact of racism as a Black person, the daily triggers of matriculating through my life, the fears, anger, hope, and challenges of holding onto myself in a world that is more comfortable seeing me as less.

As a graduate of Garrett-Evangelical, with a master of Christian education, I learned that the great connector is love. Love is not passive, love speaks about what is hidden, and love challenges what is not love, especially in one’s self. This learning has given life-shifting opportunities for myself and those I serve.

Rev. Dr. Tiggs Washington Master of Divinity, 2015

Pastor, Williams Temple Christian Methodist Episcopal Church and Teacher, Harvest Christian Academy, Wilmington, Delaware

What can I say about the three pandemics of COVID-19, racism, and economic disparity? Economic disparity, which is a result of historical racism, has been around forever. However, COVID-19 is something that we have never experienced before. COVID-19 has caused me to undergo a plethora of modifications in my ministry and personal life.

Let me begin by stating that I am a bi-vocational pastor. I am a pastor in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and a teacher in New Castle, Delaware. I have had to juggle a lot of responsibilities and changes throughout this pandemic.

In March 2020 at the onset of this pandemic, the church discontinued meeting in person, and we have not yet opened back up. I literally turned into a Zoom pastor and teacher. Although I have always been well-versed in technology, my perspective is that virtual ministry is a complement, not a replacement. I had the tools and was able to secure more resources, but navigating the pastoral ministry strictly through digital resources became increasingly difficult, and at times, frustrating. I soon realized the limitations that my congregation had as a whole. Some of my congregation didn’t have internet (or a strong enough connection), a cell phone, a TV, a working telephone, etc.

To make matters worse, I had to cease my pastoral visitations and rely on video calls. Imagine trying to get a handful of seniors who have health issues to get on Zoom in the middle of a quarantine. At times, I became depressed because it was really hard to fulfill my pastoral duties. However, I knew that I had to put my congregation’s physical health and my physical health first and learn how to pastor remotely.

Not only did I have to learn how to pastor and teach remotely because of the coronavirus, but I also had to battle another constant pandemic that has ripped apart minority communities, specifically the Black community, and that is racism. From the continual racist words and actions of former President Donald Trump (and his followers), to the unrest due to the George Floyd case and others, to seeing how the WW really devastated Black and Brown communities, it has been exhausting.

With my church being 100 percent minority, I have felt the economic disparity, especially in the decline of contributions to the church. At least in my experience, people are not giving to the church like they used to do. In addition, our traditional fundraisers have been postponed due to social distancing and quarantine.

I have felt the weight of the three pandemics that we are in. However, I find hope in these words from 2 Corinthians 4: “Therefore, since it is by God’s mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart... But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies.”

My response to all three of these pandemics has been to stay committed and show perseverance. Even amid pandemics, our church has found ways to provide PPE to our community partners who engage in testing and vaccinations. Our church has found ways to use our church van to take seniors to the polls for the election and to provide water. Our church has turned our building into a mini pantry where we store food for our church members and the surrounding community. We have found ways to donate water and funds to our sister churches who were hit hard by the recent storms down south. Even in these clay jars, we still have God’s ministry at work in our lives.

Rev. Jenny Hallenbeck Orr Master of Divinity, 2003

Associate Pastor, McCabe United Methodist Church, Bismarck, North Dakota

Since the summer of 2014, I have served McCabe United Methodist Church in Bismarck, North Dakota, in varying pastoral capacities. Bismarck is North Dakota’s capital city, and we’re part of a larger community whose population is approximately 130,000. We are a rural “metro” area near the entry point to the American west — and each part of who we are features prominently in the story of our life together this past year.

In the Dakotas, our bishop asked us to shut down in-person gatherings from mid-March through mid-May 2020. At the state level, mandated business shutdowns only applied through May 1, 2020, so many local churches “reopened” at that time. Along with our Board of Directors, we opted to wait until the first weekend in June to reopen for inperson gatherings. For context awareness, most businesses and restaurants have been functioning nearly “like normal” since last May, and our local public schools reopened in the fall for in-person learning.

When I think back on this past year of ministry within the COVID-19 pandemic, I am most grateful for our reopening process at McCabe. Last spring, we created a Health & Safety Task Force that now makes recommendations to our Board regarding on-site COVID-19 mitigation. Our Task Force is comprised of staff members, Board members, and other church folks with professional knowledge to help inform our decision-making.

As our Task Force made plans last spring to reopen for in-person gatherings, we placed high value on creating an environment wherein ministry would happen in-person, but in ways that would be unlikely to spread the COVID-19 virus. For in-person worship, we designated seating to allow for physical distancing and limited capacity. For all in-person gatherings, what was first a “strong encouragement” to wear masks became a requirement when our community’s fall COVID-19 surge began.

In many instances, Jesus’s commandment to “love our neighbors as ourselves” has crashed head-first into the rugged individualism that permeates so much of our region. Given that, as well as the highly politicized nature of the COVID-19 pandemic, we at McCabe have encountered our fair share of anti-mask sentiment. However, both science and our own anecdotal evidence have proven the importance of our Health & Safety Guidelines. Many folks in our congregation — the members of my household included — have gotten and survived the COVID-19 virus. Yet, because of our on-site mitigation practices at McCabe, we have no reason to believe the virus was ever transmitted during any of our in-person gatherings.

Our decisions regarding on-site health and safety guidelines have been communal and that has been incredibly helpful in creating a culture where no one person is blamed — or gets credit — for our mitigation efforts. Community was what I valued most about my time at GarrettEvangelical, and community has been a constant thread of hope and good news this past year. When our wider community has broken my heart with its anger and division over mitigation efforts, I come to church and see the ways our folks are willing to care for one another by donning a mask and respecting the other guidelines we’ve put in place. Whether our folks do these things joyfully or begrudgingly, they continue to do them. For that, I give thanks to God.