The dot stimulations and flow charts that ominously track the possible spread of coronavirus depict something otherwise beautiful about our society: our connectedness.

One single person—through their everyday interactions in their neighborhoods, on the street, in the store—could have a ripple affect across thousands, a whole community.

This reality brings forth a largely overlooked aspect of our supposedly “individualistic” and “alienated” American lives. The fact that we need regulations around social distancing means we weren’t all that distant to begin with.

The coronavirus pandemic has caused me to think back to the Bowling Alone theory, and the many sociologists, theologians, and writers who have decried the loss of community in our country over the decades.

The decline is there of course, but some assumed that we are inevitably bound for an isolated, automated, solo existence once technology allows. The current circumstances have revealed just how much our communities remain connected, and how much we long to be doing things together.

I recently reported on the cancellation of a couple of big church conferences. These denominational gatherings are important for decision-making and church business, but they are also much-anticipated family reunions of sorts, chances for pastors to meet up with colleagues, mentors, and lifelong friends who belong to the same body. Their cancellation comes as a hard blow during a time when church leaders are increasingly doing ministry on their own.

Then there are the many events that draw folks together around this time of year: baseball’s opening day, strawberry festivals, school field days, concerts in the park, as well as Easter egg hunts, brunches, and sunrise services.

For all the talk about the church demonstrating a commitment to community in the midst of an increasingly individualistic culture, it appears like we’re doing a good job. But the social connections that can make the church a source of support during a normal times have become a liability during the outbreak.

“According to leading experts, churches are one of the top places of community spread. Why? Christians shake hands, embrace one another, and kiss cheeks. Some are liturgically directed to drink from a common cup; others pass the peace with a warm touch,” wrote CT president Timothy Dalrymple and National Association of Evangelicals president and CT board member Walter Kim. “Our bodies do naturally what our souls do supernaturally. We connect. And we do so intergenerationally.”

In Georgia, where I live, the governor told religious leaders that “virtually all” of the hotspots for coronavirus in the state—places including rural counties and small cities—were the result of church gatherings. (These were services held in late February and early March, nearly all before churches began canceling in-person gatherings.)

So while all of us have an obligation to restrict our interactions for the sake of public health, the directives are particularly important for churches, which have the potential to draw people together across neighborhoods and social circles.

As Tim and Walter reminded us, just as we gather for the sake of love of the neighbor, our current isolation is also done with others in mind. When we worship over Zoom or livestream, let us remember how community remains central to the church—and society overall.

Kate