I Miss Going to Church

I’ll clarify that – I don’t miss church; I miss going to church.


First, church is everywhere. It is inside me and you and wherever the spirit lives. Today our church streams its worship services over Facebook, live and recorded. The ritual of church is available to us. Not the same, of course, during the pandemic. We don’t sing. We don’t mingle. We are not physically present in each other’s lives. Virtually, yes. Spiritually, also yes. Just not physically.


I miss the round table in Fellowship Hall where early birds for Sunday’s service sit and talk while stuffing bulletins, readying the sanctuary for services, and all the rest. When all is ready, we get down to jawing and laughing and just being folks. Enjoying one another’s company is what that’s about. It is a pure pleasure. In pandemic? No gathering.


I miss the services. Sitting near friends and family while focusing on the elements of the service. The music to settle jangled nerves. The prayers to center one’s mind on important matters of all time, not my own. Prayers to salve the troubles of others. Intercessions to reach out far from our own experience. Scripture readings that return to the bedrock of our value tradition to learn how basic and similar to our own they are. The sermon to translate to today the word we need to guide us toward peace and better outcomes. Action? Yes, for those who can. Fresh thought? Yes, for those who are willing.


Yes. I miss the gathering, the fellowship, the honest quest for answers in challenging times. I miss the music, the singing, too. Always a large part of my life, the music. It has always been the entry of choice to church for me. Maybe the backdoor for many, but a portal to personal introspection, learning, and realization for me.


It took a global pandemic to show me how church is its people, not a place. I still miss it though, the place with the people I have come to know and love. And the music. I miss the music in which we participate and become one.


June 30, 2020