The Day I Canceled Church

It was the first heavy snow of my first year at my first church, a little church in the hills outside of Winchester. I had a few church leaders call me and say that normally under such conditions, they canceled service. What did I know? So we canceled, and someone knew to let the tv stations know.

No church and there was our name on the tv screen. I guess any publicity is better than no publicity.

Later in the evening, another Methodist pastor called me. It was Eric Patterson, a guy who has become one of my favorite pastors for his gentle and honest insight. It seems I often run into Eric at hospitals-- he is just that kind of guy, taking the basic work of the ministry very seriously. Let's just say I have benefited from his advice over the years and have paid for it when I did not listen to him.

“I see you guys canceled church. How did that feel?”

I had not really thought about it, but as he asked me, I had to admit that it did not feel good.

“Can I give you some advice? Don't ever cancel Sunday Service.” He went on to lay out some reasons why I should not cancel services. I lived right next door to the church, so there was no reason for me to cancel. And even if I lived some distance away, leave early and drive slow to get there. If it is really bad, then you stay the night before with someone who is close by. He went on to say that you should tell your folks if they don't feel safe, by all means do not come, but church is open. And they probably should not be at Wal-Mart or the Mexican restaurant if it is too bad to get to church. You might find that some people whose church canceled, or who may feel they actually can't get to the church they normally attend, will visit your church that day. Not for you to steal them away, but to worship.

So you will know, the church was in the wildwood. On a winding, windy, hilly road, 12 miles out of town. Many of my people lived up more difficult roads.

I never canceled church again. Miss Alice, in her 80s, suffering from arthritis, would drive from town in the worst weather. And we did get some visitors who would come because we were close enough for them to feel safe coming to church. And we did not steal them away.

There were some folks who would come in week after and say they did not feel safe coming. And that is totally cool. One family, tho, got busted when one of the kids asked why they still went to Lexington... if it was so dangerous and all?

I have to confess. I do not understand the mania to cancel church. If there is snow on Thursday, it seems they're calling church off. On a day like today, it looks particularly foolish. The roads were clear. And again, if you don't feel safe, don't go. But the way we cancel church is embarrassing.  It feels like we are looking for a reason to not go to church.  I used to mess with my boss and "call in well" on a really nice summer day when I wanted to fish.  Oh, wait, we do that, too...

I try to preach this to the fellows we are sending out in ministry, to anyone I have mentored. (Except Chad Brooks, who is planting a church in Louisiana. He gets to ride his Harley to church. In winter. The bum.) Andrew Donner, a fellow who is at Headquarters UMC, a small church farther out in the country than my first church was, had folks wondering if they would cancel. No, he said. If you don't feel safe, don't come. But we are having church. It is a small church that he is leading to growth and revival. Anyway, they normally run about 17 people. 21 today, when everyone else is canceling because there's... no way to get to church...