3 Reasons to Gather In Person
I still remember the first time I watched a sporting event in high definition. Over at a friend’s house watching college football, I still recall what I said, “It’s like we’re there.” I like attending live sporting events, but admittedly, it has some drawbacks. It’s expensive. You have to fight traffic. The concession stands bring excessive prices. And of course, there’s the weather factor-rain, snow, hot, cold, etc. Is it actually worth going when you can watch it on TV? For many, HD TV put it over the edge. Let’s just stay home, eat our food, and avoid the traffic. After all, when you watch it in high definition, it feels like you’re there.
We’re approaching the same moment when it comes to church. While live streaming and podcasting have been around for a while, we’ve seen vast acceleration and improvement over the last year due to the pandemic. I’m grateful for how these technologies have allowed us to stay connected, but a big question looms on the horizon. When it’s wise to come back to in-person gatherings, will people come? Clearly, I’m not suggesting anyone take an unwise risk. But when it’s time, will people return to in-person church?
As I talk to my friends in ministry, I keep hearing the same statistics. At this point, most churches have about 40% of their pre-pandemic attendance at their masked, distanced gatherings. As vaccinations increase and the threat diminishes, what choices will that 60% make? Likely, many of them remain connected through livestreaming and podcasting. There’s a convenience in staying home, enjoying a relaxing Sunday morning, and worshiping in your pajamas. I’ve been there. I get it. I’ve even thought, “It’s like we’re there.”
But when conditions allow, there are three reasons why we need to gather in person.
1. Authenticity: Being in the same room with someone breeds authenticity. On a screen, I can hide. After all, how many of us have worn shorts or pajama pants on a work Zoom? Through technology, it’s easy to disappear. We can turn our camera off. Participation diminishes as consumption rises. But together in one room, its’ harder to remain anonymous or “fake it.”
I think of the story in Acts 3 when Peter and John heal a lame man. As the man called out randomly to the passing crowd for financial assistance, Peter looked at him and then gently but firmly said, “Look at us.” Before healing or anything else, Peter wanted them to see each other. He knew a vital truth. Relationships go deeper when we can look into each other’s eyes. We can read each other’s nonverbal cues. We can ask each other, “how are you doing” and know if they’re telling the truth or just doing the obligatory “I’m good.” I have a close friend who has gone through considerable battles with addiction over the years. When he’s healthy or unhealthy, I know by looking in his eyes. We can have great conversations on the phone or even Zoom, but to really know he’s doing well, I want to see his eyes. And to be honest, I want people to see my eyes. Being together breeds vulnerability and authenticity, while technology can be used to foster anonymity and even hiding.
2. Spontaneity: You know one of the things I’ve missed about pre-pandemic church. Besides than the worship service or organized programs, I’ve missed all the little conversations before and after. I’ve missed all the unplanned things, the spontaneous moments that rarely happen online. Guests walk in our church building. You run into someone you hadn’t planned to talk to. In the donut line, you get into a joyful conversation with a 6-year-old over the age-old question “sprinkles or plain?” You go out to lunch or make plans to meet up later for coffee. Being together in person bleeds over into all sorts of spontaneous connections.
A buddy told me this story the other day. A new family joined his church during the pandemic, not unusual in and off itself. But one thing was odd. This family lives 2,400 miles away from his church building. They’ve been participating via technology, and presumably, they want to make that their permanent practice. I anticipate some good things will come from their participation. But they won’t be going out to lunch with anyone from their church. They will have very few spontaneous encounters with other members of that church outside planned programs. These unplanned moments foster connection which grows deeper over time.
3. Touch: Healthy, human touch is good for us. We’re made for it. Whether it’s fist bumps, handshakes, hugs, or the new elbow tap I’m seeing these days, touch helps us physically, emotionally, and spiritually. For necessary reasons, we’ve had to limit touch over the past year, but we can’t go forever without it. We’re designed to connect in this way.
When I read the gospels, I’m amazed at how often Jesus touched those no one else wanted to touch-those with leprosy, the sick, the children, and all those considered unclean. When he rises from the dead, Thomas comes to faith when he can touch Jesus. This is far more than proof or evidence of the resurrection. Touching Jesus changed Thomas. Looking back on my seasons of doubt and loneliness, I don’t know where I’d be without all the hugs and pats on the back of my church. Specifically, I think of a few occasions when a group lay their hands on me in prayer. My life was never the same after. We need physical touch, and we can’t get it online.
When I first saw a game on HD, I wondered if I’d ever go back in person. After all, it felt like being there. But after a while, I realized I was missing some things. I missed the game day atmosphere. I missed the roar of the crowd and the smell of the grass and hot dogs. I missed high fiving strangers when “our” team scored, as well as chatting with fans of the opposing team. I realized a truth. Watching is better than nothing, but nothing beats actually being there.
When this is all over. Let’s go back. Let’s gather in person.
