I’m thinking about the importance of building strong churches (and other institutions) these days. I feel like we spend a good deal of time critiquing and complaining, but less time constructing a positive vision of where we ought to be investing our efforts. To that end, I’ve decided to write a short series on a few places I think we could make some real strides in strengthening the church.
I preached my final sermon as Senior Pastor of Houston Northwest Church this past Sunday. (I start as an Associate Professor at Truett Seminary in the Fall.) I’m not quite ready to write out my reflections on my time at HNW just yet (nor am I sure when I will be), but let me tell you what: That church can throw a party. They told the Bezner family goodbye in spectacular fashion on Sunday night, complete with a nacho bar, notes, sparklers, games, music, blessings, photo booths, and, yes, Fatheads.
Photo: Me, with a Big Head of…me. Photo credit: MelB Photo
Last night Joy and I sat down to go through many of the notes church members had written. It was a powerful and tearful experience. I loved being reminded of all our memories from our years here. As I read, one theme came up over and over—how much people appreciated the times when I simply showed up in the midst of a difficult moment. It was personal conversations and pastoral care that was mentioned—time and again. Yes, sermons were occasionally referenced. Leadership and vision got a couple of nods. (I couldn’t help but notice no one mentioned my jokes.) Instead, however, the church’s appreciation for our pastoral tenure centered around being present—especially during difficult times.
There’s something to be said for simply being there.
I’m a Gen Xer. That’s a sociological way of saying that I’m part of the group of Americans who are between the ages of 45 and 60 (49, to be exact). One of the jokes surrounding Gen X is that we are often the Forgotten Generation. Everyone talks about the Boomers and the Millennials. Heck, even Gen Z is getting a lot of airtime these days. Meanwhile, the Xers keep getting overlooked. (Anyone else notice the NYT Strands game about generations from a few weeks back included every living generation EXCEPT Gen X? Funny, NYT. Real funny.)
One of the unique features of Xers is the way we operate as a sort of Bridge Generation between Boomers and Millennials. We are the generation old enough to remember the era before computers and the ways of the past, but also young enough to have had a smartphone from the moment they were released. By way of example, at my multi-generational church, I often felt as if I was a “translator” between the church members who were older and those who were younger on a number of issues—from theology to culture.
But one thing this Xer pastor noticed across his ministry? No matter your generation—Boomers, Millennials, Zoomers, and beyond—the ministry of physical presence is greatly appreciated, perhaps more now than ever before.
I think it was the pandemic that drove this point home for me. I don’t know about you, but I was sick of video meetings about five days into the COVID lockdowns. I don’t think it’s any accident that the God of the universe chose to enter the world as a human before the age of cell phones. It is a great irony that God freely chose to limit himself to one physical location as an example of human flourishing while technology-wielding humans attempt to operate as if we are divinely omni-present. We check our email while we are at the beach; we text our offices while we are at the school programs; we post to our social media accounts while we are at church. We want so badly to be everywhere at once. And, as we have each experienced, when we try to be in more than one place at once, we usually miss out on the place where we are.
This is why I think the pastoral practice of physically showing up for one another is more valued now than ever before. I’m already on the record exhorting pastors to prioritize in-person visitation over texting or other digital forms of communication, but I think the stakes are even higher now. Post-pandemic, personal presence just means more.
I believe a number of factors contribute to this. In the Digital Age, attention is the most valuable commodity. To show up at someone’s house or in their hospital room or at their table is an active rejection of those other forces vying for your attention. Even better? Showing up without your phone—or at least with your phone silenced. I think the ease of texting and social media often blurs the lines of relationship to a point where people think a digital interaction is the same a physical one. It seems meaningful and intimate, but once you’ve actually been with that person, you see how vastly different the experiences are—sort of like the difference between drinking watermelon flavored sparkling water and eating a cold wedge of fresh watermelon. The two may have some overlap, but they are not the same.
Don’t mishear me: I think personal texts, emails, and calls are useful and good. They have their place and are certainly better than no personal communication whatsoever. But I do not think that they will ever be as valuable as being there with someone.
Which leads me back to church—and beyond. If there is a “secret sauce” for church success in the West in the 21st century, it is the physical presence that churches already offer. As schools debate AI, higher education becomes more online, movies move from theaters to streaming, and DoorDash use skyrockets…places where people congregate have something unique to offer. Outside of sporting events, the only place where people regularly congregate together with a shared purpose is church. Worship gatherings will become more and more unique in the future. I’ve got nothing against streaming services for those who can’t attend in person, but the future of the church isn’t digital; it’s incarnational.
For at least a few months in the wake of COVID lockdowns, some church pundits were predicting the death of in-person worship and the rise of online churches. Instead? Church attendance has most recently trended up, particularly among Generations Z and Alpha. I can’t help but think at leas part of this increase is due to digital overload—digital drowning, if you will. People want something real, something embodied.
While people can always watch church services online after the fact, church attendance is increasing (I think) for a simple reason—church is more than simply information. The embodied experience of gathered worship affects us physically and emotionally, and the ecosystem of relationships we form and inhabit within the church-community are quite literally life-giving. I believe that the churches who lean into face-to-face embodied ministry are going to be the churches that both a) thrive and b) have the greatest impact in the long haul.
Recently a video of Meta founder Mark Zuckerberg has made the rounds in which he makes the claim that people need more friends, and AI can fill that gap for people. Unsurprisingly, most of the reaction I have seen to that video has been one of revulsion. Yes, people want more friends. But people want human friends. They want real, not programmed. They want incarnate, not digital. At the end of the day, humans like technologies that can be used as a tool; technology that attempts to be an equal is something altogether different.
This is not a call for churches to take a Luddite stance. But it is a call for churches to think at least as much (if not more) about the way that they show up for one another in person. Things like Bible studies and small groups are definitely a good start. I think mentoring programs (we recently launched one at our church) are even better. But the best? When people within the congregation intentionally connect with folks in-person in order to demonstrate their love and care. This, of course, is not limited to churches. All sorts of people do this in real life friendships all of the time. And churches also have all sorts of natural friendships within them. But I think churches are forced to think in terms of organizations, particularly churches larger than, say, 150 people, because there will always be new people looking to make friends, looking for that incarnational experience. Churches of some size cannot assume these connections will happen naturally.
My hope is that churches will think beyond simply encouraging folks to join groups or participate in activities, but instead teach and train on how beautiful it is when we show up for one another in moments of need, celebration, and community. These were the moments people mentioned in their cards and notes to me—not the sermons or the programmatic gatherings, but instead the times that were unscripted and unplanned. John Lennon famously sang, “Life is what happens when you are making other plans.” We might just as easily say, “Ministry is what happens when you had planned on doing something else.” If we can open ourselves up to more margin and spontaneity, we might be able to see the church do something unexpectedly beautiful, because taking the time to love someone never ceases to amaze.
I’ve written specifically about churches today, but I think this principle cuts across disciplines. I think the future is more embodied than our tech-bro overlords would have us believe. And I think that we can being to build a better today and tomorrow right now by simply choosing to take time for physical presence and care for the people we love.
The ministry of presence is more valuable than we think. There is something inherently good about choosing—when needed—to be there.
AMEN !!….Papa