There has been much written about people not returning to church after COVID. The things I have read are mostly from those who returned, lamenting (or judging) those who did not. I am one of those who did not return.
Pre-COVID, I was an every Sunday morning church attender. I rarely get sick, so unless I was travelling, rain, hail or shine would find me in church. And if I was travelling, I would often seek out a local church in the city or town where I travelled to. (This led to an interesting interaction with a minister when I turned up, fresh from the airport with suitcase in tow, and I was assumed to be a local homeless person. But that’s a story for another day.)
I sang in the choir, I participated in a Bible Study when I could. I turned up to and volunteered at church events. I was a regular.
However, even before COVID there was a niggling feeling that I wasn’t quite like everyone else. See, I didn’t have a car both by choice and financial necessity, so I caught public transport to a church where most everyone else had quite a new model car. I was public school educated in a congregation which was mainly private school educated. I spoke about my struggles with mental health in a congregation that seemed to have no issues with mental health, or at least none they were willing to talk about. I was also twenty years younger than most everyone else and my frame of cultural references was vastly different to those around me.
The difference between me and them was made clear to me one day before church, when we were in the vestry dressed in our choir robes waiting for the service to begin, and some one said about a movie “it’s for people like us” and I wondered what were ‘people like us’ and if I really fit into that category.
I live in Victoria, Australia which was one of the places where the highest restrictions were in place during COVID. I don’t live in Melbourne, so I didn’t suffer the worst of them, however we did have long periods when there were restrictions on meeting together, including church services. During this time, my church pivoted to meeting via Zoom.
It was great to see the familiar faces and hear people talking. I also enjoyed online communion – much to my surprise. There was much talk about how Zoom-church was accessible for people who couldn’t join in physically, whether because they were ill or injured, or in a nursing home, or anything else. Zoom-church was inclusive and there was much energy expended making sure it was inclusive through teaching the less tech-savvy members how to connect to Zoom and participate in the service.
However, when restrictions were lifted there was a rush to get back to ‘normal.’ Zoom-church changed to livestreaming. Announcements were made about how it was great to be back. Sensory worship happened and we were told about things we received when we walked in the door. Except of course if you were joining online and did not walk through the door…..and weren’t back in the building……and suddenly went from a participatory experience to watching a show. Inclusion, it seemed, was only important when no one was allowed in church. It was an optional extra when things returned to normal.
In some ways there was nothing stopping me returning. Well, that is, if you don’t count my anxiety. I have lived with anxiety for a number of years now. Most of the time it is under control, but there are times when it makes life physically uncomfortable. I am not a germ-a-phobe and COVID had made me aware that I could be the carrier of a disease that could easily kill the many vulnerable old people in the congregation. I didn’t want to carry that responsibility and so I continued to ‘attend’ online.
Almost every week there was a reminder that the welcome principally was for people in the room, that normal meant turning up in person, and that worshipping via livestream (and those who participated that way) was an optional extra. I did turn up one week, but the effort to manage my anxiety in that space meant that it was not a very satisfactory experience.
Slowly, it became easier to disconnect – both within the livestreamed worship and then with worship in general. My absence didn’t seem to be missed. And my comments about the disconnection I felt through the comments about normality and in-person attendance were dismissed. Finding a new church and doing the getting-to-know-you thing again all felt a bit hard, so I have basically disconnected.
Sometime ago I realised that I needed three things in a church, however I could probably cope with any two of them. Good preaching, good music, and loving community.
As a biblical scholar, I connect with theology through my work often at quite develop and technical levels, so I don’t miss the sermons that so often did not challenge or connect with me. As a musician, I have always loved sacred music and this means that when I desire musical worship now, I connect through my vast Christian music collection. And I have developed different forms of community that feel more real than the often-forced connections at church.
So, why would I go back? What could the church offer? What should the church offer? And, when will they understand that shaming my absence probably isn’t the most attractive way to entice me to return?
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