5 years on from Covid, the Church is still making a difference

This past Sunday marked five years since the world changed. Across the UK, towns and cities paused to reflect on the lives lost, the sacrifices made and the deep scars left by the Covid-19 pandemic. The annual day of reflection isn’t just about remembering numbers on a page. It’s about real people; families grieving an empty chair at the dinner table, and front line workers who gave everything.

Five years on and the numbers still shock us – more than 7 million recorded deaths worldwide - and at least 232,000 here in the UK. But statistics alone don’t capture the full story. From the teenager revising for exams that never happened, the exhausted nurse wrapped in layers of PPE, or the security guard at the supermarket door enforcing social distancing rules, Covid-19 reshaped daily life. It interrupted milestones and, in many ways, changing us permanently.

Beyond the numbers

Our young people - the ‘Covid generation’ - felt the lasting effects most profoundly. Children and teenagers whose formative years were spent in isolation, learning through screens instead of in classrooms, missing out on friendships and the natural social development that comes from simply being with others.

The pandemic forced us all to confront uncomfortable questions

For many, education has never fully recovered. It’s not just the missed lessons, it’s the loss of curiosity, the struggle to focus, the difficulty of independent thought. Schools were closed, but so too were playgrounds, youth clubs, church halls – places where children learn not just facts but how to be human. We are now seeing the long-term consequences: rising anxiety, a generation hesitant to engage, more comfortable behind a screen than face to face.

Covid accelerated an existing trend of friendships being maintained through the ping of a notification rather than the depth of conversation; of life being framed more by algorithms than happy accidents.

Coming together

And yet even in the darkest days of lockdown, we saw glimpses of community resilience. Local people pulled together to confront the challenges of the pandemic. Neighbours collected shopping for elderly residents and left notes of encouragement. Many joined the ‘clap for carers’ tribute every Thursday, standing by their front door or hanging out of their window to salute front line workers. People who had barely spoken before found themselves chatting over fences, forming bonds in the strangest of times. For a while, there was a sense that we were in this together.

For the Church, this wasn’t new. This was what we were always meant to be. The body of Christ, reaching out, serving, showing love in practical ways. In some places, Covid strengthened local churches as they became hubs of support, prayer, comfort and practical resource.

Our society became more aware of the church’s work, too. The All-Party Parliamentary Group report Keeping the Faith found more than two thirds of local councils increased engagement with faith groups, and that 91 per cent had a positive experience. The Church stepped up - or perhaps it just became a little more visible.

Asking the hard questions

The pandemic forced us all to confront uncomfortable questions about life, death, suffering and meaning. It exposed deep cracks in society, inequalities that led to higher death rates in Black and Asian communities, economic struggles that widened the gap between rich and poor. We saw that security is an illusion and health, stability - even life itself - is fragile.

In the middle of that, cities in the US erupted with anger over the murder of George Floyd, and that spread around the world. Stark inequalities became painfully clear – those who could work from home with space and access to the outdoors, and those who couldn’t. Some found lockdown a time of peace and reflection. Some found it isolating, exhausting and traumatic.

Taking stock

So, five years on, we must ask: Have we found ourselves slipping back into the old rhythms of isolation and indifference?

The gospel has always spoken into moments like this. Jesus never shied away from suffering. He stepped into it. He never ignored inequality but confronted it. And he never left people in their despair. Covid was a stark reminder that the world is broken. But it was also a reminder that this world is not all there is.

Even in the darkest days, we saw glimpses of resilience

For those who feel lost, Jesus still says: “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” For those who feel the weight of injustice, he still calls his Church to be the hands and feet of mercy. For a generation searching for purpose, he still offers life in all its fullness.

The Church continues to be a place of real connection. A people, not a platform. A community, not just content. For those still searching for something beyond endless scrolling, the Church has the answer.

So, five years on, let’s not just reflect on what was lost. Let’s ask how we, as the Church, can be part of what is being rebuilt. The world is still searching. And in Christ, we still have the answer.