By Pastor Craig Pederson
My 17-year-old son Evan sometimes finds it a challenge to get going in the mornings. (Can I get a witness?) On school and work days, thankfully, he gets up to speed pretty quickly.
But on other days, he ambles down the stairs from his bedroom with his eyes half open, heads directly for the fridge to grasp for the milk, then lurches toward the pantry for the Rice Krispies (or whatever cereal is within the closest reach), then slides by the cupboard and drawers for a bowl and a spoon. He ends up in a nearly collapsed state at the table, where his quest for morning Resurrection commences.
“While church folks have long talked about the church not being dependent upon a building, we encountered the actual reality of being separated from our facilities for an extended period of time.”
As each spoonful of this breakfast elixir enters his barely opened mouth, signs of life appear. His eyelids open wider, his posture slowly straightens, and his legs start to bounce ever so slightly to whatever he is listening to on his earbuds and/or watching on his phone.
Watching his metamorphosis reminds me of the jingle for Rice Krispies that I remember vividly from my own childhood (because it was constantly in commercials during cartoons): “It’s fun to put SNAP, CRACKLE, POP into your morning!”
Though it soon became annoying, I had to admit it: the jingle was true! After I poured the milk, I eagerly listened for the snap/crackle/pop, then anticipated the sensory joy of the crunchy krispies that gradually turned into pasty mini-morsels the longer they sat in the milk.
OUR SENSES UNDERGIRD and enhance our interpretation of life in this incarnational, 3D world. As we move toward a post-pandemic existence, I so much appreciate the return of sensory experiences and the decreasing reliance on 2D screen interactions in our professional and personal lives.
This shift has many church leaders asking what it means to return to in-person worship in buildings that have been mostly empty for over a year.
The pandemic forced us to learn about the flexibility and inclusiveness made possible by moving our communities online. Screens and connectivity became lifelines for people of faith to stay in touch with their churches that nurtured, challenged, and encouraged them. And while church folks have long talked about the church not being dependent upon a building, we encountered the actual reality of being separated from our facilities for an extended period of time.
Yet in the back of our minds, many of us longed to go back. We imagined how it would feel to be together with our siblings in Christ in a sacred physical space.
“My sensory-starved self has recently been gratefully inundated by the sight of worshipers, the smells of food and coffee and water and wind, the sounds of voices and instruments woven together in praise, and the touch of the “Peace of Christ” greeting and the bread and wine placed in my hands.”
But this was not the case for everyone. While most churches are now assessing what a dual online/in-person presence might look like, some have already decided to leave the building entirely and apply their energies toward being online communities. A recent article describes both new and existing churches that view buildings as a hindrance to experiencing more relational community, as well as a distraction from focusing on their core values like social justice and spiritual formation. They don’t want to deal with the cost and logistics (and some would add headaches) of maintaining a property.
Others, however, promote the benefits of gathering in-person in a sacred space. The human body – particularly the brain – is designed to interpret signals from all the sensory faculties. When we gather as the body of Christ, there is a “collective effervescence” that builds up our spiritual, psychological, and physiological wellness. (Note: As a sociology major from the last millennium, I totally resonate with “collective effervescence” – a concept first identified by my favorite late 19th century sociologist, Emile Durkheim. The fact that it appears in a 2021 journal article is amazing!)
I don’t want to pick sides in the building/no building, in-person/online debates. Rather, I view it through the Lutheran lens of both/and – both online and in-person communities can have great value and be extremely impactful.
IN RECENT WEEKS I have had the privilege of preaching at a church on their second Sunday back together for indoor worship; representing the synod at the retirement celebration for a pastor of a large suburban church; worshiping outdoors at a lakeshore park for an ecumenical service; and installing a new pastor during worship at a redeveloping church. At each place, my sensory-starved self was gratefully inundated by the sight of worshipers, the smells of food and coffee and water and wind, the sounds of voices and instruments woven together in praise, and the touch of the “Peace of Christ” greeting and the bread and wine placed in my hands.
The “collective effervescence” of God’s people gathered may not quite match the sensory delight of a “snap/crackle/pop” moment, … but it sure gets me up and going in the mornings! As children of God we are made to gather for Word and Sacrament, mutual care and compassion, and justice and peace. Engaging the gifts of our full selves, let it be so!