The Beatles’ “Magical Mystery Tour” avant-garde film wasn’t well-received back in 1967. But its iconic status and concept proved stunningly successful in the middle of a pandemic.
That onetime staple in every youth pastor’s toolkit — the Polaroid scavenger hunt — is getting a makeover and making a comeback.
And during a pandemic, no less.
When I close my eyes, I can see Mr. Rogers changing his shoes, putting on his sweater and singing … “Won’t you be my neighbor?” Growing up in the early 1970s, “Mister Rogers Neighborhood” was one of several PBS shows my younger sister and I watched. And when I reflect now on over 30 years of educational ministry, it’s easy to see how he influenced me, whether through his gentle, direct, respectful voice or the use of puppets and music or his emphasis on neighborliness, inclusion and peacemaking.
It’s nearly time to celebrate “Mr. Rogers’ Day” in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), and what better day to do so than March 20, the birthday of one of the most well-known ordained Presbyterian ministers of all-time, everyone’s neighbor — Fred McFeely Rogers (1928–2003).
Inspired by their grandchildren, three friends and members of Sunnyvale Presbyterian Church in Sunnyvale, California, have created a new children’s book, “God is With Us Always Even in a Pandemic.”
The metamorphosis of the caterpillar transforming itself into a butterfly reminds many Christians — Emma Reed of First Presbyterian Church of Virginia Beach in Virginia, among them — of Jesus’ death and resurrection.
It’s a common sight from the window of Doug Marshall’s office at the Presbyterian Home for Children in Talladega, Alabama: A care worker accompanies a new girl from the administration building to the cottage that will be her new home.
Every morning when I walk, I see the signs that remind me: We are surrounded by a great cloud of caregivers, too often invisible to us, though our well-being and that of our loved ones and communities is dependent upon their work and their commitment to their mission. When COVID-19 swelled to pandemic proportions this winter, most of us locked down to protect ourselves, but nurses, techs, chaplains, doctors and support staff remained at their posts without adequate personal protective equipment or knowledge of the scope of the virus, still serving the sick and the infected, knowing as they did that they were putting themselves and their families at risk. All paid a high cost, and some gave their lives. In nursing homes and elder adult living facilities, and with hospice and in-home care workers, the warning signs that kept everyone else at a safe distance did not prevent these caregivers from attending to the frail and vulnerable. Many of these essential workers could not have stayed home if they wanted to; as part of the nation’s vast informal economy, their ability to feed and house their families depended on the ability to show up, even when it meant risking infection. Many in this gig economy of caregivers themselves lack access to consistent health care … and still, they show up.
