It has been some time. In fact, it has been a very long time since I last flew on an airline. Much has changed.
After navigating the internet to find flights, dates, and times, I settled on a popular airline for traveling to Wisconsin to officiate a wedding.
Dutifully, I studied the new rules, made certain not a gram of metal was on my person due to detectors, and mentally prepared for an invasive “pat-down” prior to fully passing through security, and then on to the gates, plane, and destination whilst wearing my mandatory and preventative mask to avoid Covid-19 and any other variant virus.
But, as Paul Harvey once coined the phrase, “And, now, the rest of the story,” needs telling.
You see, I was more than willing to follow the new standards for safety and security, recognizing that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few (Spock, Star Trek). What was different was stranger than I remember.
My bad luck began as I was only able to get a middle seat between two very quiet people—in fact, the entire plane was quiet lacking the exciting qualities I remember of travel, adventure, and relaxation. When the steward asked for beverage orders, we were asked to simply point to a picture placard with an adjoining number below the item for which were to hold up the corresponding number choice with the correct number of fingers. In other words, even the flight attendants did not speak.
The sandwich of discomfort and pin-dropping silence gave me time to think during the three-hour excursion.
When God created us, we were wired to be social. We need to be social. You may remember the phrase, “It is not good for man to be alone.” It is simply true.
I am not certain what made me more uncomfortable, the rotator-cuff strain from holding my arms so close to my body or the deafening quiet. I wanted to engage those nearby me, at some level, even if in mundane and sundry conversation.
This is instructive for us all.
When you or I pass a person at any of a number of activities, it is good, in fact healthy, to remember that they may be lonely, lost, or feel unloved. This is as great a malady for the soul as anything else we might imagine. Countless studies, some very sad, have shown the human need for contact and connection.
I would argue, of course, this is one of the primary benefits of a church community, but only you can decide if this is true for you.
On a happy note, one little boy who sat in front of me prattled on about the merits of Spiderman versus Iron Man near the end of our trip. It was a delightful conversation between us—two individuals needing community. I guess there is still hope.
Kent Simmons is the pastor of Canyon Community Church in Kingman, AZ. He can be reached at Kent@canyon-church.com.