Gathered Again

When I was a sophomore in college, a tiny virus shut down the world.

One week I was walking across campus, quizzing my friends about all the enzymes involved in oxidative phosphorylation and belting out alto-part harmonies in chapel. The next week I was packing my dorm room and heading back home to memorize biochemical pathways in my childhood bedroom.

Like many people, I tried to convince myself that virtual community would be enough. We bungled over the mute button on Zoom. We texted through deep conversations late at night. We watched Sunday services on Facebook live. I was grateful for every effort people made to stay connected while making healthy decisions, and technology truly was a gift during that season.

But I missed the things I had taken for granted: Lingering after worship to catch up with friends, laughing over potluck chicken, singing the same hymn with hundreds of other voices, receiving Communion shoulder to shoulder with my brothers and sisters in Christ. I discovered that many of the things I had taken for granted were actually gifts God had given to shape me as a member of the family of God. I discovered that absence had taught me the power of presence.

When restrictions eased and we returned to campus, there was a different feeling in the air. Walking into worship for the first time with the room full again felt almost sacred. Seeing familiar faces in person reminded me that the church is not merely something we attend or watch: It is a people with whom we share life.

Scripture consistently reminds us that God gathers his people. From Israel assembling before the Lord to the early church devoting themselves to fellowship, breaking bread, and prayer, God's people have always been formed together. In communion with God and with each other. Our God is a personal God, but our faith has never been meant to be a solitary endeavor.

Perhaps that is why gathering matters so much. It is in community that we learn and practice the fruits of the spirit: Patience, peace, joy, forgiveness. It is around tables that the strangers we may have avoided on the street become dear friends. It is through communal worship that our individual voices come together to become a singular testimony to Christ's love and God's faithfulness. We discover that belonging is not simply about being welcomed; it is also about becoming people who welcome others.

As summer gives way to fall, many churches will begin new Bible studies, welcome students leveling up to a new grade in school, greet families walking through their doors for the first time, and reconnect with members they haven't seen in a while. Even though it can be stressful to kick off a new ministry year, I want this year to remember that every reunion is an opportunity to celebrate that the act of gathering is a gift.

Some people who enter our churches this fall will be carrying loneliness. Others will be searching for hope after a season of grief or transition. Some may be coming to church with a history of hurt, wondering if there really is a church community anywhere where they may belong. The way we greet them, invite them into conversation, remember their names, or save them a seat may very well become the first time they experience the radical welcoming of Christ's love and body.

Having experienced what it was like to worship apart, I have learned to treasure what happens when God's people come together. Every Sunday is another reminder that we were not created to follow Jesus alone.

As we gather again this fall, may we do so with gratitude. May we become the kind of communities where everyone who walks through our doors can discover that there is a place prepared for them in the family of God.