Before the outbreak of the Wuhan Virus, so much of life had become “virtual” and “digital,” hadn’t it? Since the pandemic, it seems we’re now living in a virtual world!
Think about it.
Four months ago, a guy would get up about the same time every morning, go through the same typical morning routine, and head out the door for the office at the same time, drive down the same roads, even see some of the same people along the way.
Meanwhile, his children would head off to school, hopping on the bus within three or four minutes of the scheduled pickup time. Upon arrival, they’d make their way to the appropriate classroom, greet the same teacher and fellow students every day.
Their mom would leave a little while later for the restaurant where she worked as a hostess and server covering the lunch rush and setting up for the evening shift. On her way home on some days, she’d run in to Walmart to grab a few things needed for the evening meal and the next couple days of school lunches.
It was all so…real. So…analog.
Now, welcome to the virtual living.
Dad has almost forgotten what the office looks like—and he’s thinking that’s not necessarily a bad thing! Working from home, he connects virtually with his co-workers when they need to collaborate on a project. Daily meetings in the corporate conference room occupied about half his time in the old word. In the new world, he ZOOMS for a couple hours every afternoon, meeting with colleagues scattered all over town, each looking a little less “put together” than when living in the old world. “Is that a pair of pajamas he’s wearing?” crosses dad’s mind at least a couple times a week!
Every once in a while, the ZOOM feed freezes because the kids are in another room, each taking turns on the family computer watching online lessons from their teachers. The bandwidth struggles to keep up—its old-world speed trying to handle new-world demands. When the lessons are over, each child needs the computer for an extended period to do all the homework the teacher sent by email at the beginning of the week. More than once, dad’s co-workers were treated to the din of sibling rivalry as the kids battled for screen time.
Good thing mom’s hours have been drastically cut. Virtual restaurant dining requires no hostess or dining room, no table settings or napkin-folded silverware. So she heads to the restaurant around 11:00 to help handle online orders and distribute them to customers who show up at the door or the drive-thru window. When all this started, she was excited to see the names of regular customers pop up on the screen with their digitized order. The excitement dissipated quickly when it struck her how much she missed the smiles, the brief chat as she seated them, and the friendly goodbyes—victims of the virtual world.
Anyway, since her hours are reduced, she ends up doing a lot of refereeing screen time and overseeing homework as she plays “virtual teacher.” When things simmer down a bit, she tries to salve the longing for connection with friends by launching Facebook, scrolling endlessly, looking for familiar faces and names, hoping for something to brighten the mood.
There are no more “stop by the store on the way home” errands to pick up a thing or two for dinner. In the new virtual world, mom stays up after the kids have hit the sack to scroll through the grocery aisles on Walmart.com. She’s trying to think ahead and order everything they’ll need for at least a week. An hour or so later, the shopping cart is overflowing—yet weighs nothing!—and she’s ready to check out. Has to schedule a time to pick up her order at the drive through, then on to payment options. Piece of cake. Her account information is entered with one click. Done. Virtual grocery shopping done—except for getting the stuff home an put away. Some things just can’t be digitized.
The Role of Sunday
The days of the week in the new virtual world tend to run together, and if it weren’t for the weekend trip to pick up the grocery order and Sunday “virtual church,” it’d be really easy to lose track of what day it is.
But Sunday does serve as a bit of a reboot.
There’s so much to like about Sunday in this new world! In the old world, seems like the mornings were quite a rush—ok, honestly, a bit of a hassle. Get everyone up and showered, fix breakfast, get dressed, rush out the door to get to Sunday School on time. And mostly making it.
In the new world, Sunday morning is so much more relaxed! Can sleep in…don’t need to worry about getting “church clothes” on…don’t even have to go anywhere! Even church is virtual! Why, the family can even eat breakfast during the sermon. Do have to be careful not to drop Cheerios on the Bible, though.
The first few Sundays, our composite family thought this virtual church thing was pretty cool. The much more relaxed morning was nice. And you can never kick your feet up on the church pew or make the thing recline! My goodness, what would people think if you showed up to Sunday School in your PJs?!? So yes, there were some perks to “virtual church.”
After a while, though, something didn’t seem quite right about it all. Things that were simply taken for granted started to be missed. It’s not that mom doesn’t like dad’s voice or anything, and it is sweet to hear the kids try to sing along, but it can’t measure up to the blending of voices as they reverberate throughout the auditorium.
One Sunday as the pastor was preaching to the camera, it was as if a light went on in mom’s head. She recalled the experience of being in a concert hall when her favorite artist performed last October. She’d heard this person perform several times; owned all her CDs. Even saw a special performance on PBS once. But none of that could compare to the live-and-in-person experience last October! And then she reflected on watching the same artist do a recent Facebook Live mini-concert in the new virtual world. The Facebook Live concert only made her want to see the artist “live” again!
That’s when it struck her. Sitting in the living room, watching “church” on the big screen TV left her with that same sense of longing for the real thing. “Virtual church” may be filling a certain need, but she had a vague notion that it was all so…incomplete. So…unsatisfying.
For good reason.
Just before the Wuhan virus ground the world to a halt and ushered in an unprecedented level of living in a virtual world, Jay Kim published a fascinating book, Analog Church. In my reading this book, I’ve found myself so often saying, “Yes, this is why preventing churches from gathering and forcing ‘virtual church’ is so wrong for the long term.” Allow me to share a brief excerpt that clarifies the light that dawned on our fictional mom living in the new virtual world. Kim points out,
Church communities cannot be built primarily around content, because while great content can inform and even inspire, content alone is never enough to transform us. Transformation in the life of the church is always an analog experience, as we journey shoulder to shoulder with other people, gathering in real ways as real people, to invite God to change us individually and collectively.
We experience this transformation in a variety of ways—singing together, listening and speaking God’s grace and truth, the breaking of bread, the sharing of resources, the giving of our time and energy and creativity, remembering and celebrating the sacraments, and on and on—but all of these ways are in some form or fashion, tangible and physical. Content matters inasmuch as it moves us toward real participation and action within the actual church community. (p. 96)
He then explains the nature of “church.” (The Greek word translated “church” in the New Testament is the term “ekklesia.”)
Ekklesia or “church” in a biblical sense, is almost always a group of people who gathered regularly to worship, share their lives with one another, and learn and live the way of Jesus together. The word itself is a compound of two Greek words meaning “called” (kaleo) and “from” or “out of” (ek); in broader terms, the word was understood to mean, “an assembly or gathering of citizens called out from their homes into some public place.” (p. 98)
Then consider all of the New Testament exhortations to the church. How many of these can truly be fulfilled in a virtual world:
Serve one another.
Bear with one another in love.
Speak and sing the words of God together.
Make music together.
Teach and challenge one another.
Keep one another accountable.
Spur one another on toward love and good deeds.
Do not give up meeting together.
Be hospitable to one another.
Experience fellowship together.
Confess to one another.
Pray for one another.
Eat and drink together.
Kim explains, “These practices of the church, the gathered community of God’s people, require physical presence. Community always has been and always will be an analog experience.” (pp. 99-100).
So our mom was onto something. Have you—with me—sensed her uneasiness and longing? It’s with good reason. God didn’t create a “virtual world” to be inhabited by pixels and electronic pulsations. He created real people…real places and things. He created a real church that cannot be adequately replaced by a virtual substitute.
The church needs to gather, to meet, in real time, in a real place, with real people.
