AUCKLAND, New Zealand — Rawiri Waititi doesn’t need to go far for evidence of how Māori, New Zealand’s indigenous people, fared during a previous pandemic. 

Within his iwi, or tribe, in New Zealand’s North Island are mass graves with the remains of dozens of his ancestors. Their cause of death: the Spanish flu in 1918. 

“There were cemeteries created just for children,” said Waititi, an iwi leader and church elder in the Ringatū church, a Christian faith that draws heavily on Māori tradition. 

It’s why he announced on March 20 the closure of his iwi’s borders due to the coronavirus that causes COVID-19. Outsiders, such as tourists, were turned away by two 24-hour roadblocks run by volunteers from the 1,000 strong iwi. More than 200 are elderly and like Māori nationwide, conditions such as diabetes are common, making them more vulnerable to the disease.

For Waititi, the roadblocks are a physical manifestation of the spiritual protection that he, his church and iwi leaders have formed around their people. Each morning and night, group prayer is broadcast live over Facebook to reinforce that spiritual roadblock.

Thanks to geographic isolation, decisive leadership and some luck, New Zealand has so far deflected a COVID-19 crisis. In early May, the country reported only a handful of new cases. A total of 21 people have died in a country of just under five million people. 

A key to that result has been the diligent work of New Zealand’s Māori and the Pacific Islander population who have at times been ahead of the government’s internationally praised COVID-19 response. Church leaders in these communities, like Waititi, have been a powerful voice in calling their people to respond seriously to COVID-19 while generously caring for their vulnerable members. 

“We can reach people’s homes and lives at the grassroots, more than the government,” said Rev. Setaita Taumoepeau K. Veikune, the president of the Methodist Church in New Zealand. She is also Tongan. “We are aware and make the most of that.”

The Methodist Church has stuck tightly to government directives, cancelling in-person services from March 21. It moved its operations online when New Zealand entered a tight five-week lockdown. Non-essential businesses, such as cafes and clothing stores, were shut. People socialized only with others in their house, or bubble, as the nation affectionately calls it. 

A week into the lockdown, news reports surfaced that some New Zealand Tongans, including church groups, were still meeting for kava drinking sessions. Kava is a plant drink from the South Pacific long used to deliver a buzzy relaxation. Traditionally, it is a social activity with one one cup shared among many. Veikune sent emails and letters down the church hierarchy instructing any Methodist involved to stop participating. She also instructed them to use their influence with non-church members.

“Our Tongan Methodist congregations could be a source to reach out to the Tongan community,” said Veikune. This is in part due to Christianity’s colonial ties. Within a few days, some Tongan church members sent her screenshots of Zoom kava sessions. “They each sat with their bowl of kava in front of their Zoom screen, talking and fellowshipping as if they were in one room,” she said.  

Almost 70 percent of Pacific Islanders living in New Zealand identified as Christian in the 2018 census, according to Stats NZ. It is a number that is holding steady against a trend towards secularization for New Zealand in general. About 30 percent of Māori marked the Christian box in the same census, a decline of 15 percent since 2006. 

Churches are linked to their island of origin for Pacific Islanders in New Zealand, a home away from home as well as a place of worship, said Veikune. For Māori, the tribal structure and the Māori king reign supreme.

Waikato-Tainui, a North Island iwi authority, is typically a “non-faith space,” said Jade Hohaia, its former communications manager. However, with the bleakness of COVID-19, she regularly shared the positive essence of her faith and that of other faith leaders through the group’s communication channels that reach 250,000 Māori people. “There is a [spiritual] awakening,” said Hohaia. “I can feel it in my spirit and it has been Māori birthed.” 

Similar to kava sessions, personal space is scarce at a Māori or Pacific Islander church service. It is an entire day filled with hongis, or nose pressing, handshakes, hugs and kisses, according to Dr. Collin Tukuitonga, associate dean at the University of Auckland’s Faculty of Medical and Health Sciences and a government advisor. He is also a Catholic from the tiny island nation of Niue. A communal lunch typically follows the service with activities for young people. “It’s all wonderful stuff when there isn’t a virus lurking around,” he said. (Hongi literally means “sharing of breath.”)

Both the Pacific Island and Māori communities shoulder a disproportionate share of health issues such as diabetes, heart disease and obesity, compared to other New Zealanders. The diabetes rate is three times higher and obesity is twice as common for Pacific Islander adults. Māori are twice as likely to die from heart failure as non-Māori. This puts both communities at a higher risk of COVID-19 complications, Tukuitonga said. 

That’s why on the week of March 9, he called for all churches to cancel Sunday services, singling out New Zealand’s Pacific Island congregations. On March 19, the New Zealand government banned gatherings of 100 people or more, putting a stop to most church services. 

“The last thing we want to do is risk our people at this time,” said the Ven. Lyndon Drake, from the Anglican Church who is descended from Ngai Tahu, a South Island iwi. The church had already cancelled non-worship gatherings on March 17. “It was particularly because of the vulnerability of our people,” said Drake, who oversees six congregations in South Auckland, where many Māori people live . 

“We don’t get in New Zealand that defiance of state regulation in the name of faith that you do see in the [US],” said Peter Lineham, professor emeritus of history at Massey University in New Zealand. When it comes to social services, church organizations and government can work well together, he said. The latter provides much needed funding while the former tones down its Christian messaging for the common goal of helping those in need. 

At least one congregation, an American-style mega church that reaches mostly Māori and Pacific Islanders, plans to defy a government ban on gatherings of more than ten people to hold a worship service this Sunday May 17. The church had earlier said it would hold gatherings despite a ban, but two weeks after Bishop Brian Tamaki said he would not let “a filthy virus scare us out of having church,” all its services were online. Its car park also became a COVID-19 testing site. Destiny Church, along with many other religious organizations, is receiving thousands of dollars in wage subsidies from the government, according to the news website Stuff.

The Congregational Christian Church of Samoa in southern Auckland is also receiving the wage subsidy, said Rev. Victor Pouesi. He leads the congregation along with his wife Salome. 

With the financial hardships faced by his congregation due to COVID-caused unemployment, he is encouraging his people not to bring their regular “alofa.” In Samoa, a minister's livelihood is completely supported by gifts like food, clothing or mats from the congregation. “It is slowly changing to a monetary thing” in New Zealand, said Pouesi, adding that “alofa” translates to love." This is an extreme measure,” he said. “We know the priority is for our people.”

Pouesi is experiencing something other pastors around the world have noticed: a huge increase in their online audience. More than 10,000 people are viewing his messages. Before COVID-19, about 500 people attended a service.

More people, especially Māori and Pacific Islanders, are reaching out for prayer, according to Drake, the Anglican archdeacon. It’s because Polynesians are inherently spiritual people, he said. “Amongst my non-Māori friends who are not Christian, I have to convince them there is a spiritual reality [to COVID-19],” said Drake. “For Māori, I don’t have to convince them of that.”

Serena Solomon is a multimedia freelance journalist based in Auckland who has reported for VICE, the Guardian, the New York Times, DNA Info and many other outlets. Follow her on Twitter @serenaspeaks.