Thanks to Don Shrumm, Pastor at Genesis Presbyterian Church in Littleton, Colorado, for this week’s wintry reflection.
Cancelling Worship, Together
It is not an easy decision for a pastor to make!
This past Saturday I started calling and emailing. I posted on Facebook; all in an effort to get more input on what Genesis Presbyterian Church should do about the unfolding snowstorm. You don’t want to cancel too early, or too easily; it makes you look lazy.
On the other hand you don’t want people driving when the weather forecasters are basically saying “don’t be driving.” And knowing how many would stay home you hate to have only a small group brave the elements and arrive for worship only to end up with a warm but much more humble and low-energy affair. Your worship leaders really do miss you when you decide to skip worship. I’m glad the issue comes up rarely.
Then, with a number of our factors figured in, and with the snow still falling, and while my leadership was leaning toward cancelling, my wife Julie and I turned on the TV early Sunday morn and saw that a bunch of other congregations were cancelling worship. I must say that peer pressure really helped me Sunday morning. Our broader, ecumenical community’s voice tipped the scales.
Then it was 7:15 in the morning and I was wearing my sweats and enjoying a rare Sunday morning stress-free breakfast with in front of the fireplace. Extraordinary. I put on my iTunes “Christian” playlist for the day and we had a grand time visiting, doing chores, relaxing, and watching the snow.
Shuffling around in my slippers, I felt a great affinity for my other brothers and sisters in our respective faith communities. I knew how similar our Saturday nights and Sunday mornings must have played out. And I was grateful for many folks and communities I often (especially on a typical, hectic Sunday morning!) fail to remember. Thank you.
In our collective absences I also knew we were somehow together. Odd that I felt uncommon affinity for our broader faith community even as its normal schedule was so disrupted. That fracture made it also feel like Lent . . . .
