We haven't ceased to be the church. We'll never cease to be that. But I miss the gathering.

It’s been a month.

Four full Sundays of worship at home.

And with every week that goes by, I realize more than ever how much I miss it.

No, not the building. You can have the building.

Not even the event. You can have that, too.

I miss the people.

I miss gathering as the church.

Active, But Separated

Sure, the church is still alive and well. More than ever.

We’re checking up on each other. Making grocery runs for our seniors. This evening, some friends dropped by with donuts, then stood at the end of the driveway as we chatted from the door for a few moments. We’ve never done that before.

So the church is engaged, active, worshiping and caring for each other.

But I miss the gathering.

Deeply.

The Emptiness Of Absence

I miss being in the same room, worshiping, singing, serving, laughing, praying, and receiving communion together.

That’s the part that hurts.

The part where I feel an emptiness.

It’s not about the building or the event. It never has been.

It’s about the people.

God’s people.

Gathered.

Going To Church Matters

Yes, it’s true that we are the church. That’s what matters most.

But it’s becoming ever more clear that the going part is a very close second. And an essential element of being the church.

Going to church matters. A lot.

Gathering as the church is as fundamental to my faith as it can possibly be.

No, we haven’t ceased to be the church. We’ll never cease to be that.

But I miss the gathering.

What a celebration it will be when we’re gathered again.

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