My gathering prayer for you is that you’ll encounter some friction. I pray that at some point along the way the Wi-Fi will give out. That you’ll get turned around in the hotel. That you’ll have to stand in a line for dinner. Not for the whole trip, not every time. But I pray that just once or twice you’ll encounter something that slows you down.
Recently, I’ve been thinking about why we gather in person. I got stuck in my head until I encountered some friction of my own. I was working on a reading project that pulled me out of my normal routines. I entombed myself at a local university library for a day of uninterrupted reading. Around noon, I raised my head from my work and walked to my husband’s office to meet him for lunch.
It wasn’t a long walk, but it was long enough that I could have been doing something productive with the time. However, my rhythms had been disrupted and nothing was at hand.
So, I just walked. My mind wondered. My skin felt hot under the sun, cool under the trees and then hot again. Walking through a college campus, I recalled my own college days walking from class to class, from dorm to dining hall and back again. Then and now, the walks created some transition space as I moved from one activity to another.
And I wondered if part of the gift of gathering in person is encountering just a bit more friction than we’re used to. It’s a digestive pause between the different moments in our day.
Perhaps Zoom makes things too smooth for us. There’s no settling in, no running back for another cup of coffee. There's no lingering around the table after the official meeting has ended. Click, my document closes. Click click, and I’ve joined the meeting. Click, the meeting disappears. Click, click, seven new emails call for my attention. My, how productive I am today.
A host of people have made this gathering possible and are excited to welcome you to Indianapolis. We hope the content will be enriching. We’re excited about the small groups designed from your questions and interests. And we know that sometimes you just bump into the right person on the shuttle or in the bathroom.
I am grateful for the time and inconvenience you are giving to be here at the gathering. I know it is a gift. I pray that in the friction of your travels and the time out of your ordinary routines you will encounter digestive pauses that will be as rich — or richer — than the main course.
And for those of you not joining us at the gathering, know that friction happens in variety of ways. See these curated articles for inspiration:
