If that’s a mile too far, I’d ask whether you’re a fan of Jesus or a follower. If these temporary restrictions are unbearable, I’d ask whether your greater identity is anchored in the Bill of Rights or the Gospel. If church for you is just sitting in rows on a Sunday or chatting with friends in its foyer, I’d invite you to imagine that church can be more. Much more. And it’s only two miles from where you’re standing right now.
There is a valid lament for losing some of the luxuries of Sunday services, the contagious energy of large gatherings, and the comfort of tangible friendships. We can talk about what we miss, what we long to experience again. When we turn that discomfort into vitriol, we show the world we worship comfort. When we turn public disobedience into a virtue, we put a bushel over our light. When we use our time, energy, and platform to push our wills, we tell our audience who really sits on the throne of our hearts. When a pew position defines our Christianity more than our life the six other days of the week, we don’t have anything worthwhile to offer everyone else that can find their fulfillment in a seat at a stadium or theater, bar or airplane.