Last Thursday, my family used some Christmas money to attend a hockey game in Pittsburgh–something we’ve been wanting to do for years. Six years ago, hubby and Xoe went to one while I stayed with Rowyn in the hotel room (because he wasn’t quite 4 and had a hard time staying up that late, LOL), but our darling son never forgot that he didn’t get to go have fun with Papa and Xoe, so eventually I came up with this plan to put Christmas money toward the tickets. 😁

Photo by Alex Korolkoff on Unsplash

Now, I’m not a huge sports fan in general, but after watching hundreds of hockey games with David over the years, I certainly know how the game works and enjoy it. I mean, not enough to put my book or knitting down, most of the time, but I listen and obligingly look up when he directs me to a particularly brilliant play. 😉 So even though there’s no announcers giving you the play-by-play while you’re watching it live (I was shocked at how QUIET it was!), I could follow along.

We won, which was fun. But something I enjoyed even more was the collective nature of being in that audience. The community. Let me see if I can explain my thoughts.

I’ve been to football games, pro baseball games, that sort of thing, so I’m no stranger to the unanimous cheering and all that, but it was different in the hockey arena. Every time there was a shot on the goal and it missed, there was a collective groan/gasp that went through the entire arena. Twenty thousand “Ugggghhhhh”s is quite a thing! And when there was a score, twenty thousand fans surged to their feet. No one was more concerned with the food or beer (though those Dunkin Donuts were calling my name…) during the periods. Everyone was riveted to the game–because unlike football or baseball, you can’t look away for a minute, because you literally never know when the next scoring opportunity will come. 

Photo by Alexis Brown on Unsplash

As I pondered these collective reactions, it reminded me anew that we–humanity–weren’t built to be alone. We’re created to live in societies, to be members of communities, to thrive on experiences shared by others. I’m not an extrovert–but there’s no denying how much I appreciate those hours spent with my church family, my actual family, my book club, my homeschool group. These are my people, and I need them.

Whenever I think about these things, this article springs to mind. I daresay I’ve linked to it before, but it bears repeating. It’s on the rise of glass mirrors in Europe and how that changed the entire structure of civilization–mindsets became more about “me” once people could see themselves clearly, and less about “community.” It used to be the case that the worse punishment imaginable was to be excommunicated or exiled. Now, if one community or group tosses you out, it’s relatively easy to just move to another and find a new place, not just because of ease of travel, but because we’ve become a culture that teaches “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks of you.” When that used to be the only thing that mattered.

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It’s especially interesting to consider the positives and negatives of this change in the church. On the one hand, it has a direct correlation to the rise of the Protestant emphasis on personal relationships with God. I deem that good. But at the same time, it corresponds to a direct decrease in the value put on community.