As I talked with the stalwart volunteers who were there an hour before the service (you know the ones I mean) and asked them about being back there was a resounding answer of “I LOVE it!” Sometimes this was emphasized with “It didn’t feel like I was going to church sitting at home but here…” or “If only we could get rid of these masks!” They longed to be in the space that was so dear to them, they longed for connection. Many of them longed for some sense of normalcy. Being back together in the sanctuary gave them a taste of that normalcy and community. I rejoiced with them that those who were there could be back together.

And yet…When I looked around the sanctuary, I was deeply reminded of the now and not yet in which these liminal times hold us. Even as a guest I could sense absence in the space. There was no noise from the children as they left for their Sunday School class–because there were no children, though families typically make up a vibrant part of the community. As I remembered to direct my gaze up at the livestream camera now and again, I wondered who was on the other side and how they were doing. Those who were not, could not, or would not be physically present were all but forgotten by everyone except me as the preacher and the trusted tech volunteer. And this in a congregation that does community well–that works hard on welcome and draws people in. I grieved for those absences.

There is no blame or shame in my observations. Simply a recognition that whatever the shape of our regathering, our search for a predefined “normalcy” will be a failed one. Those who get to define that “normal” will inevitably be the ones who get to access it (and even then not fully) leaving many of us outside the boundaries. Our communities will not be the normal we knew before the pandemic. They can’t. We are changed just as the world around us has changed. And I, for one, find possibility in that reality.

There are so many examples of congregations doing multi-platform worship and programming well. Where I take heart are the examples where the change is adaptive and not just technical. All my gratitude and blessings on those staff and volunteers who have figured out the technical answers. The technical is very important. We have a real opportunity when those technical answers are linked to meaning-making. Where have we really seized the opportunity to ask ourselves how has the pandemic changed the way we understand ourselves? What opportunities has it opened up? What has it shown we can let go? How do we keep on the path of expanding accessibility? What is really important about living into Beloved Community together?