Barrel of Monkeys: How to Keep your Community in the Age of Covid-19

Many of us are struggling lately. Money is tight. Work hours have been reduced, or jobs lost completely. Protests seem to be a daily occurrence across the country as people rage against everything from systemic racial injustice to mask mandates.

Patience is wearing thin as anxiety runs rampant in our society, fueled by a global pandemic, a contentious election year, and a twenty-four-hour news cycle that seems to run on partisan politics and fear. In fact, I would venture to guess that many people don’t even realize what they’re anxious about, or that they’re anxious at all.

An undercurrent here is a growing sense of isolation. As communities at large have adopted social distancing measures in light of Covid, our communities within our communities—our social circles, our workspaces, our churches—have become increasingly disconnected. While there are many (myself included) who believe that the shutdown of faith communities for safety’s sake was a much-needed opportunity to reevaluate what it means to be the Church in word and practice, many of our gatherings moved into the virtual world.

Almost overnight, the demand for equipment to livestream events went through the roof. As tech directors, worship leaders, and pastors crammed on YouTube tutorial videos on how to move their services online, many quipped that no one ever taught this in seminary.

WHAT HASN’T BEEN EASILY REPLICATED

Most churches haven’t skipped a beat when it comes to cranking out a handful of songs, a twenty- to thirty-minute sermon, and a plea to change to online giving; all with cool camera angles, vibey lighting, and slick overdubs so we can touch up those little (or big) mis-timed drum hits and pitch issues. Production value is easily transitioned from stage to screen. What hasn’t been as easily replicated is the sense of community we share during our gatherings.

At my church, it didn’t take long for the novelty of Zoom worship gatherings to wear off. For a few weeks, we had way more viewers online than we would normally have for an in-person Sunday service. But as the shutdown wore on, fewer and fewer people logged on every week. By the time the city of Denver started lifting/changing some of the restrictions for public gatherings, we were down to maybe a few dozen unique logins weekly. 

While this decline may have had something to do with the quality, we don’t believe that was the main driving factor. We’ve never relied on high production value in our services, nor is it a high priority for our congregants. What has always been a hallmark for our church, however, is the sense of community we share on Sunday mornings and, for many, throughout the week. Those are the kinds of deep connections that can’t be made or maintained by staring at a screen that looks like the opening credits of “The Brady Bunch.” 

As worship leaders who are used to seeing our teams every week and cultivating the same type of community, this loss has been equally difficult. Most of the folks on my team and in our church have chosen to err on the side of caution and are going to wait to come back to in-person services until things have stabilized with COVID, a decision I wholeheartedly respect and affirm. And while it has been good to get back to some semblance of normalcy gathering on Sunday mornings, the question remains: How do we continue to pastor those in our community who remain at a distance?

STEPPING OUT OF OUR OWN ISOLATION

Did you ever play the game “Barrel of Monkeys”? It was a little barrel of plastic monkeys whose arms and tails were in the shape of hooks. The goal was to create the longest chain possible with the plastic primates, hooking them together one at a time.

This is what I believe we need to do to continue fostering community in the current climate. As you reach out to your team members, simply ask them to reach out to one other person and hook them, so to speak, so we can all remain connected through this extremely isolating time. One hand reaching out to another hand, to another, and another. 

Of course, all of this starts with you and me stepping out of our own isolation. I know that’s not easy. Most of the worship leaders I know are introverts, so intentionally reaching out can be a huge step of faith. But it is so needed and rewarding, especially these days. I’ve probably made more phone calls and had more one-on-one meetings in the last three months than in the last three years. But each one has been such a life-giving point of contact, something that I usually don’t realize until I hang up the phone.

Who knows? Maybe this period in our history is just what we need to revitalize our sense of connection with one another and the world around us.

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Are you an introvert or an extrovert? How does that facet of your personality impact you as a leader and/or as a friend, especially in these days? How does this challenge to intentionally reach out make you feel? Is it inspiring? Intimidating? Both?

Let us know. As always, we are so grateful you’re here.