Delta flight 251 from LAX to Atlanta was crammed to the gills. Just as I was settling into my seat, the person next to me, a young African-American woman, smiled and said “hello.” (Nearly everyone is friendlier since 9-11. People want to know if their fellow passengers are safe and or not.)

Petite and pretty, Sheila (not her real name) was on her way to visit friends for the weekend. After the preflight “safety show” we resumed our small talk. One of five children, Sheila lives just outside LA., and was a little concerned about the temperature in Atlanta. We didn’t talk long, just long enough to feel a sense of peace.

Strangers to Friends

Airplanes are public spaces. Although the seating arrangement, with everyone side-by-side looking forward, makes conversation difficult, the environment encourages public belonging.

“Ladies and gentleman.” The captain’s deep voice sounded over the intercom. “Although we’re ready to push back from the gate, we’ve been instructed to wait.” The deep sighs of resignation were audible all around me. “We’ve got to squeeze in thirty more people whose flight has been cancelled due to a problem with their aircraft.” People groaned. The sighing turned to swearing.

Finally we took off. During the four-hour flight, people slept, watched the movie, read, and worked on their laptops. There was very little conversing.

As we landed and deplaned, conversations began again. People wished each other good luck and safety in travel. Everyone new the next few minutes were going to be frustrating as we discovered just how messed up our schedules were. Most were good-natured about it.

The gate-connections counter was a mess; no one seemed to know what was going on. Frustration was turning to anger. One guy threw down the ropes that kept us in a line and screamed at the gate agent. Expletives filled the air. He became more agitated when security showed up. Just as the security guards were about to take him away, something amazing happened. People from our flight talked to him and calmed him down. They also convinced the security guards that the whole thing was a misunderstanding and that it was unnecessary to take their friend away.

“Friend?” We barely knew the guy. But here we were, defending him to airport security and helping him stay out of trouble. At what point, I asked myself, in our four hours together did this guy go from being a complete stranger to a friend? Watching public belongers care in such a significant way amazed me.

This small group had become a one-time, episodic community.

Instant Community - Act II

“Ladies and gentleman we are about ready to load the aircraft. However, this flight is in an overbooked situation. (More groans.) If you would like to volunteer to give your seat please come to the gate counter.”

What more could happen? No one was in the mood to give up his or her seat. By this time most thought they had earned it.

Suddenly, one man from our group stood and explained, “I know you would all like to get where you are going, but this lady and her family really need to get back to see their sick mother. They don’t have confirmed seats. Anyone willing to give up their seats for them?”

Immediately people moved toward the counter to give up their seats for this “stranger” and her family. The gate agent finally had to announce that she no longer needed seats. Again, “total strangers” became neighbors.

It Only Takes a Moment to Connect

It only takes a few short moments for people to connect in significant ways. One person’s spontaneous generosity or kindness can create an instant tipping point that creates environments where groups of people connect and help each other with their lives.

I believe we can create such environments in our congregations where people connect in significant, spatially-specific ways. We can bring value to the public way people connect through honoring these environments.

Next time we think about how episodic public encounters are insignificant, we would do well to remember that connections-significant connections-happen in all four spaces: public, social, personal, and intimate.

“Ladies and gentlemen welcome to Dayton International Airport where the local time is 1:30 a.m.” I started that journey a stranger among strangers. I arrived no longer a stranger. I had connected in significant ways to people I didn’t know in public space. It felt good to be a human.