It wasn’t that long ago that nomads were viewed as unstable and untrustworthy. Stability of address was part of an identity, and thus provided more assurance to ones worthiness and trustworthiness.
However, recently that has somewhat changed. A person, for example, who remains at the same job/company for years is not the person many companies are looking for. The companies are looking for the hungry (and sometimes the desparate) to bolster the organization.
The other reinforcement of the nomad is the freedom provided by digital. At 61, Nicky Maidment became a digital nomad. There is Katie Macleoud, who has “worked from home” in 78 countries as of 2022.
Both Nicky and Katie are blessed with digital jobs that are easily convertible to the nomad lifestyle.
I have an acquaintance that is travelling the world doing her job remotely. In the short time I’ve known her, she has already moved 3 times.
Building Albatrosses1
When we build churches and church communities, we generally build around physical locales. We don’t really trust the nomads.
The gatherings should be, in many respects, a safe place for people, and strangers are disruptive.
On the other hand, we are called to love the stranger. We are also called to love the nomad.
I remember a conversation years ago in regard to college ministry. I was told we were wasting church resources on people who were just going to move away. This conversation (and the church) were in a college town.
I wonder, how (not if) the church building, and our concept of church community, has become an albatross. Are we weighed down? Are we unable to move, adjust, go, because we are weighed down?
Places is Good
I don’t seek to diminish the local church. I’m a “local” church pastor. However, this seeming blindness to the world moving around us may not be good for the kingdom.
I don’t argue (too much) that physical is better. In most cases, I do think it is ideal. I’m not, however, going to hold onto that too hard.
Digital has places, too. Facebook, Twitter, X (the transition from Twitter to X is causing me to think of them differently, now), Mastodon, Bluesky, Instagram, YouTube are all different places. I’m not comfortable in all of them.
Serving Nomads
What is interesting, perhaps telling, is that my denomination, The Church of the Nazarene, has a strong missional drive. It’s not that we don’t seek out nomads.
One of my favorite stories is Church on Camelback. To reach nomads, the Church of the Nazarene put the “church on a camel.”
Yet, we struggle with the digital nomads. In reality, as digital networks change, the people move. It used to be Facebook. Then it was Instagram. Currently, it’s TikTok. If things continue as expected, TikTok will be banned from the US, and the people will go…where?
Church on Camelback showed that the church is capable and even willing to go to the people. It’s only, however, with a certain framework.
Return to Office
I have to admit that when the big companies began to insist that their employees come back to the office now that the COVID era is mostly over, I suspected that many in the church said, “yes!”
Things need to go back. Except, that we have yet to see what happens when the workers do return to the office. Some will go back grudgingly. Some will go back mostly willingly. What will they do?
Some believe that those big companies are doing this on purpose to get rid of their higher paid people to bring in foreign workers. Some believe that this will ultimately reduce overhead. I believe that they will lose a lot of their institutional knowledge, and hire people back as contractors (for more money).
These contractors? They’ll be nomads.
Nomadic Church
The church can’t presume buildings. Maybe, someday, we can get back to them, but it might be a very long while.
These nomads deserve spiritual homes in their travels. Are we bowing to their selfishness? No. We’re honoring their nature.
There’s nothing wrong with that. So, why is digital so different?
1If you are unfamiliar with the albatross concept, it comes from the poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The general concept, in usage, symbolizes a psychological burden. Often it’s supposed to be a curse or guilt or shame.