Not the Same

I have some thoughts I’m working through during this “safer at home” or “stay at home order” time we find ourselves in. 

Mainly what I’m thinking about today is how tired I am of people trying to cheer us up about not being able to meet together as a church with words like, “The church is not the building, it’s the people.” “The church isn’t empty, it’s been deployed.” “We are the church.” 

True.  All of it.  Church is truly not that building on the corner where we gather. The church is truly the people who love Jesus and belong to Him, and we are to be actively following Him as we go about our lives out in the world.  We rejoice because the grave is empty, HALLELUJAH! Yes and amen.  

But what is bothering me is that it feels a little like people are rebuking me for not thinking it is enough to settle for virtual fellowship. It is right to grieve not being able to be the church gathered anymore during this time.  I am not wrong to grieve what we lose when we cannot be physically with the people who are the church. I miss my church family.  While I am immensely thankful for the technology that allows my little Bible study group to meet via video conference, it is NOT the same as being with them in the same room.  And while I am also immensely thankful for the technology that allows our music directors and pastors and elders to live stream a version of the Sunday morning service each week, and thankful for how beautifully they are doing it because it is better than not being able to meet at all, it still is just not the same as being together in the same location lifting our voices and prayers together in the same place. 

We are embodied people, created for fellowship. We need this. Look at all the “one another” commands in the Bible and all the encouragement to not neglect the meeting together to stir one another up to love and good works.  We do the best we can under the circumstances we find ourselves in - yes, even from love of one another in this time of global pandemic - and stay away physically for a time.  But it is not the same.  And it is right to grieve this. It is right to miss being the gathered church.  And, yes, we can and do worship Jesus from our living room, separated from others.  Indeed, He hears our prayers and He is with us.  But still, something in us longs to see our brothers and sisters in person and join together to lift our praises to Him and encourage and stir each other up in praising Him.  It is right to long for this. 

There is something intangible, almost indescribable about the energy that comes from standing in a room with other people who really truly love Jesus and believe what they are singing and praying with all their hearts that lifts all of us closer to the throne when we jointly worship our King. I miss that. And it is right to miss it.  

The day that we lose that hunger to fellowship as the gathered church, the day we no longer grieve that loss, is the day lose something beautiful and we begin to drift from a real understanding of what it means that we are the church.  

Another thing this has brought home to me in a way I’ve never been able to appreciate before is that we have brothers and sisters in areas of the world where not being able to gather with other believers is the norm because of persecution and other hardships.  This temporary time of separation from our local church families ought to give us a heart and burden to pray for our persecuted brethren around the world in a way we never have before.  

So, for now, we settle for virtual fellowship, because for now we must.  But let us never think it is enough. And maybe even let’s stop being so quick to shut down that grief over it not being the same and not being enough when someone expresses it. It’s ok to grieve. We are the church, yes. And we miss each other.  Also true. 

And here is another thought I had about all this: Can you just imagine how when the restrictions are finally able to be lifted and we are free to meet together with our local church family again, what a celebration that’s going to be? Can you just anticipate the joy in our singing, the urgency in our praying and the joy our pastors will have to be able to speak face-to-face with the people again instead of preaching in an empty room before a camera? Don’t you think it’s going to be just a pale glimpse of what Heaven will be like? And doesn’t this just make you long for that day? And in that way, even on the best days when we are able to be together here on earth, won’t it fuel even more our longing for the ultimate gathering of the saints when Jesus comes again?

Just think what it’s going to be one day when this vapor of a life is over, and all the saints are gathered together and we finally get to see Jesus face to face. We will finally know Him as we are known, the veil fully gone and we will worship more deeply and more fully than we’ve ever been able to before. We will forever sing the Hallelujah to our Savior, the risen Lord Jesus who has loved us and forgiven us and saved us and made us His forever. 

Yes, this Easter will be a different sort of Easter. But the grave is empty.  Jesus is risen. He is risen indeed!  Let our worship be sweeter for the longing. Our joy is real, and deep, and nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.  Nothing can separate us! There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.  Hallelujah! What a Savior! 

Let this time of separation be a time to draw near to Jesus. Once again, the song, “Is He Worthy” spoke to my heart today.  The words, “Do you know that all the dark won’t stop the light from getting through,” gripped me. Even the dark of coronavirus and the fear and anxiety of the people around us will not stop the light of Christ from getting through. Even the dark of our isolation will not stop the light from getting through.  Draw near, love Him more, and let it fuel our longing to be together again with those who love Him. And when we are together again, let it be fuel for our greater longing for His return. Because Christ is our hope in life and in death.  

Maranatha!  Come, Lord Jesus.