Why this Easter feels different

The Rev. Fred Robinson was about to start Sunday morning worship with his church staff when he heard a stunning public confession.

It came around the peak of the Covid-19 pandemic in January of last year. His church had canceled in-person worship, but staffers had gathered inside the sanctuary to record a live online service.

About 10 minutes before going live, a worship team member arrived and instinctively reached out to hug a man wearing a face mask who was setting up microphones. The masked man, in trying to keep at least six feet away from others, reluctantly backed away.

“I haven’t touched or hugged anybody anyone in a year,” the man in the mask said, his voice weighed down by sorrow. He said that he was unmarried and had lived much of the pandemic alone – unlike the other staffers, who had family and spouses at home.

“It broke our hearts. There were tears,” says Robinson, who was then leading a United Church of Christ congregation in Charlotte, North Carolina. “All of us were crushed because our brother had gone through this pandemic in a way that we hadn’t considered.”