Coming up empty
I’m writing this week, to say I’ve nothing to write this week. I’m coming up short, with half finished thoughts.
I missed two weeks ago, but refuse to begin missing with regularity. And this is discipline. To do the thing even when you don’t feel like doing it. To ship the thing even when you’d like more polish.
So here is the raw goods of how I’m processing the pandemic, and the response I’ve seen from churches. I’ve got to couch this with disclaimers of my very small viewfinder into the entirety of christendom.
This feeling started in conversation with a friend. “We just watched church” I responded. It hit hard, that this is nothing new. We’ve been organizing for the consumption of content for years. But in this season it doesn’t require a commute. And now we’ve fully embraced the exchange of commune and commute for content.
The buildings closed
The broadcasts began
The fullness of him filled silence with air
A sabbath squandered
True belief unveiled
of the presence
of information propagation
The word became hertz
and streamed among us
Are you still watching?
The bullhorn is willing
but the network is weak
This overproduction of content will have a shelf life. It will decay to enrich the soil for connection. Fruitless methods will find pruning, making way for new growth. Our words about community will be met by our actions in community. The churches that emerge unrecognizable will have changed for the best. I have a seated hope for the health of our relationships, individual and corporate. And our conduct in this time will continue to serve as a mirror for what we truly believe.