By Amy Butler
Depending on whom you ask, people around here are calling it “Snowpocalypse” or “Snowmaggedon” or a variety of other things, which I will refrain from listing here.
I am referring to, of course, the recent dumping of several feet of snow on the Mid-Atlantic region of the country, which at this writing has grounded planes, closed the federal government, driven parents of school-aged children to the brink of madness — and inspired the deep angst of those of us faced with the troubling question of whether or not to cancel church.
D.C. natives are swearing they can’t remember anything like the current storm. Snow up past the armrests of the park benches is bad enough anywhere from a logistical standpoint, but the situation has been especially challenging in this neck of the woods — where, let’s be honest, we’re just not equipped to deal with it well. It’s all been a bit overwhelming and rather unfamiliar, in fact. As one friend commented, “When did I move to Buffalo?” So, today I find myself wondering about yet another pastoral duty, among the many, that I always feel inadequate to perform — making the decision about whether or not to cancel church.
On the one hand, who would ever consider canceling church, of all things? This action would clearly be akin to putting an old Bible in the garage-sale pile (don’t lie, you know you’ve considered it). On Saturday afternoon, however, when it has been snowing for 24 hours straight and shows no signs of stopping, it might just be time to actually believe the weather reports for once and entertain the possibility that church should be canceled.
And, if this becomes the scenario with which you as a pastor are faced, I’ve recently found it helpful, in efforts to assuage any feelings of sacrilege, to repeat over and over to yourself and also to anyone who will listen: “We would never want anyone to get hurt while trying to get to church!”
If this doesn’t make you feel less guilty, I also recommend: “It’s our responsibility to keep the roads as clear as possible for those who need them in emergencies!”
And, though admittedly less satisfactory, the following also works on occasion: “I’m afraid the pastor can’t dig her car out of the snow and get down the treacherous roads to lead the service!”
Turns out it was less the feelings of guilt and more the frustration of not being able to control the weather patterns of the Earth’s atmosphere with which I largely contended last weekend. In other words, the general state of snow emergency outside my window took the decision right out of my hands. There was no way in any even marginally sane person’s worldview that church services should have gone forward. Fact of the matter was, most of us didn’t have power or heat or hot water or cable TV or even telephone service, much less time to think about the safest way to get to church.
I managed to communicate this news, along with my personal, heat-and powerless state, to the larger world via a mobile Facebook update, and as I sat watching the snow, pondering my decision, and wondering what it is that normal people do on Sunday mornings, I started getting telephone calls and text messages from members of the Calvary congregation.
Turns out they were not messages expressing outrage at my reckless and irresponsible (not to mention unholy) canceling of church services.
Rather, they were the dearest expressions of love and concern. Are you okay? I am thinking about you. Do you need anything? Call me if the power doesn’t come back soon. I have some extra soup and could try to get it to you. I will miss worshiping with my Calvary family this weekend. Do you know if everybody is okay? Did you make sure the staff is not trying to get to church? Hug your kids for me…. Stay safe.
Turns out I should have spent less time anguishing over the decision to cancel services and more time remembering the definition of “church” that I learned so long ago in Sunday school, because it seems I couldn’t even cancel church if I tried. Church isn’t a building, don’t you remember? It’s not even an 11:00 a.m. worship service on Sunday morning. Church is the people of God, gathered in whatever way they can, to love and support and pray for each other and to bring in the Kingdom of God right here on Earth.
Church happens in a sanctuary with hymns and communion on Sunday mornings.
And church happens lots of other ways too.
Even in a blizzard.
Thanks be to God.