The magic is you

Reflections on “church attendance”

Some articles on this blog are pretty much inside baseball—by Harbor, for Harbor, about Harbor. Others are for a broader audience, anyone interested in some combination of faith, theology, social justice, and the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I only bring this up to say that I’m not sure which one this is; it’s about Harbor, but I think it might have some relevant thoughts for anyone in a church or other community-building context.

One of the moral North Stars of Harbor has been to do no harm. Many of us have been involved in toxic or dehumanizing religious spaces, and we want this new thing to be different. So we have abandoned plenty of practices (from “tithing” to sermons) and tried to discern better ways to accomplish what needs to be accomplished in and for our community.

Especially important for me has been the shift—articulated really well in a blog post by one of our pastors, Dottie—to abandon any pressure on attendance. We will not manipulate, coerce, wheedle, cajole, or coax people to come to our weekly Thursday Zoom gatherings. There are plenty of reasons for this commitment (one being, as Dottie noted, that freedom brings healing). Each person should have the agency and responsibility to chart their own course; each person at Harbor know what is best for their soul more than I or the other pastors do.

I mentioned this shift has been significant for me personally. That’s because, sadly, I did not know how much I pressured people in my previous church jobs until I stopped doing it here. So not only has the pressure-free atmosphere created freedom for participants, it has freed me as a pastor from being trapped in unhealthy patterns of leadership.

I’m also realizing that I enter Harbor each week not just as a facilitator or pastor, but as a human being who loves the other human beings in the group. This is good, but it means I carry my own human limitations onto Zoom with me. I notice the faces who are there and I notice the faces who are not. I celebrate that for many of the faces who are not there they are leaning into the freedom of our church community. There are so many good and life-giving reasons for someone not to attend one of our gatherings: having dinner with a partner, going to a kid’s sporting event, participating in local advocacy work. Or, honestly, just noticing that the Thursday gatherings aren’t one’s favorite part of Harbor. 

There are more ways to experience our community outside of these calls: a weekly brunch hangout, the Circle social media network, and an array of fun activity groups. As people dive more into these opportunities, their overall bandwidth is affected.

Decisions have consequences

And so, we celebrate this culture of freedom and the healing it brings. We will continue to commit ourselves to cultivating a pressure-free environment. Frankly, we recommend other faith communities do the same.

Yet, now that we have had some time to sit with and process this way of being together, it seems right to acknowledge that every decision has consequences. What are the consequences of trying really hard not to pressure anyone to come to our gatherings? I think the most straightforward results are healthier participants and fewer faces on our Zoom screens.

And this is worth it! But it feels like somewhere, sometime (and it’s looking like that is here and now) we should say that our gatherings are better when more Harboristas are there. It’s just true. Our gatherings are magical as far as I’m concerned. Every week. But the magic isn’t the pastors’ content or the icebreaker questions. It’s the presence, wisdom, grace, and love of the people on the call. Of you. The magic is you.

What I’m trying to say is, if you’re reading this and you’re part of Harbor, we love it when you’re with us.

(I hate to end on a note of unresolved tension but…)

I hope that last sentence wasn’t at all triggering. I know it might be simply because it sounds sort of like “We’d love to see you on a Sunday morning,” one of the textbook maneuvers from the evangelical playbook.

I don’t know how to resolve this tension! We will not pressure you to come on Thursdays. You know what’s best for how often to participate. Yet, for the record (but not for the pressure), we love to see your face and hear your voice.

So maybe we’ll see you on an upcoming Thursday night. Maybe we won’t. Our love for you will be equal either way. But our excitement on the call won’t. (But our love for you will.)