It’s Not (Just) About the Mask

Last weekend I led a guest services training for a church in another state. Between the time my flight landed and the start of my speaking engagement, I had some extra time to swing by a different church that’s long been on my “visit one day” list.

This particular church does guest services really well and plans the weekend with the guest in mind. I had high hopes, and from my first moments on campus, I wasn’t disappointed. The signage was clear, the parking team was plentiful and attentive, the facility was laid out in a way that I intuitively knew where to go.

So like I do every time I get out of the car these days, I strapped on my face mask, adjusted and re-adjusted and re-re-adjusted until my breath stopped fogging up my glasses, and made my way to the building.

But the closer I got, the more I realized I was an anomaly. I was one of a few handfuls of people wearing a mask, and there were hundreds – perhaps a couple of thousand – pouring into the building, hanging out in the lobby, swigging coffee, and swapping hugs, handshakes and high fives.

I’m a pastor, so I exaggerate numbers like it’s my job, but I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that 95% of the attendees were maskless.

So what did I do? I circled the lobby, shot through the bookstore, and made my way back outside and to the safety of my rental car. For me, no masks in a major gathering = no sticking around.

Now allow me to ramp up the fairness and ramp down the critique:

• This church was within the bounds of the law. They had the complete right to set up that gathering exactly as they did. While they are in a state with a mask mandate, they fall under a religious exemption. However, this state’s churches are strongly encouraged to comply with the mandate.

• Personally, I tend to be a mask chameleon. If I’m with a small group of friends and they want to remain masked, I’ll remain masked. But if there’s a mutual agreement that we can take ’em off and stay somewhat socially distanced, that’s fine by me. (Grandmama Franks might’ve called that being a big ol’ hypocrite…you be the judge.)

• I can’t possibly know this church’s decision making process. If there’s one thing this pandemic has taught me, it’s grace for other people’s decisions. Whether it’s virtual learning or vaccines or safer-at-home orders or church re-opening plans, I’m confident there’s a lot of info I’m not privy to, and if I were I’d probably have a lot more understanding of the road they chose.

• I was a one-time guest in an ongoing meeting plan. I didn’t check the website beforehand except to see times. I haven’t been following their reopening procedures. There’s probably a lot I missed by showing up right after I stepped off a plane.

Having said all that, let me (a) give you a trigger warning that (b) Danny is about to roll into opinion mode and (c) repeat the title of this post:

It’s not (just) about the mask.

I went, and I didn’t feel comfortable. And because I tend to be a mask chameleon, I hadn’t really thought about how uncomfortable I would feel until I showed up. But it was the largest group of unmasked people that I’ve been in since March, and I felt weirded out enough that I walked out.

But it’s not (just) about the mask.

It was the feeling that this very large church wasn’t acknowledging a very real pandemic. I didn’t see any signs that addressed masks or no masks, sanitation procedures, or alternate programming for congregational safety. There were so few people wearing masks that I felt like a weirdo for wearing one. There was a point that I wondered, “Have these folks watched the news since March? Should I tell ’em about the ‘rona?“

But it’s not (just) about the mask.

I get that masks and sanitation and safety and social distancing have become a social tug-of-war. I recognize that I have friends and family members and congregants and fellow staff members on both sides of the debate. Heck, sometimes I’m on both sides of the debate.

And yes…I know that there are first-time guests who fall on both sides of the debate. Requiring masks in your gathering may mean you lose people. Not requiring masks in your gathering may mean you lose people.

But it’s not (just) about the mask.

I’m not a medical expert (I get squeamish when reruns of ER come on). I don’t deep dive the outbreak numbers. I don’t know all the pros and cons of lockdowns vs. reopening quickly vs. herd immunity vs. whatever. But I have spent the better part of two decades asking questions as they pertain to reaching new people. And it’s those questions I’m wrestling with this morning.

The questions that I’m processing right now…and the questions you may be struggling with as well:

Is it more important to protect the feelings of those we’re trying to keep or those we’re trying to reach?

Are masks and safety part of the new norm for reaching new people?

Our guests don’t live in a bubble, and neither should we. To ignore the thing that’s on everyone’s mind is tone-deaf at best, and dangerous (or deadly) at worst.

A few weeks ago a friend told me about his family’s visit to a new church in our own state. “Danny,” he said, “almost no one was wearing a mask. The preaching was great, but I just can’t go back if they’re not thinking about my family’s safety.”

Again: our guests don’t live in a bubble, and neither should we.

It’s not (just) about the mask.

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