Awhile back, I was working as a pastor in New Mexico. That year, Christmas day saw the formation of the powerful and quite unexpected “winter storm Goliath.” Now, Roswell, New Mexico is pretty far southeast in New Mexico. It’s really flat…the area around it kind of looks like those old Wile E. Coyote and Roadrunner cartoons. Honestly, the city barely has the drainage to handle the 12 inches of rainfall1 it gets for the whole year, let alone a great blizzard.
The Sunday after Christmas, the 27th, we had a baptism scheduled for a military family. The husband would be deploying soon and that Sunday was his only chance to be there. So, it had to be the 27th. Leading up to that Sunday, the forecast kept getting more intense: four inches of snow, six inches of snow, eight inches of snow?! I had never even seen more than 3 inches of snow in my life. But this service needed to happen no matter what.
Lucus and I lived a hundred miles away and my snow driving skills were like… like an octopus on ice skates (really, really, really not good). We decided I would crash with the senior pastor that Saturday night. Sure enough, the snow came: it fell and it fell. It wasn’t six or eight inches. It was a record-breaking snow for Roswell – 12.4 inches on Sunday2 with vigorous winds and unbelievable snow drifts! I cut the tags off my brand new, first ever pair of snow pants and the pastor and I galumphed our way over to the church (mercifully, only a few blocks from his house). The streets were empty and unplowed. The whole city looked quiet and uninhabited.
When we got into the church, our kitchen/worship planning/involved in everything church lady (a heaven-sent in any church) – well, she was already there and she had brought a fancy cake to celebrate this baptism. But she told us that there was a big mess in the sanctuary – some of the poinsettias had been knocked over and torn up. We went in there when what did we find but a squirrel darting across the chancel, desperate to flee to safety. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but squirrels can run REALLY fast! We had no hope of catching the poor little fella! So, here we are in a blizzard, preparing for worship, with a frightened, fluffy-tailed rodent SOMEWHERE, ready to make an appearance at any moment.
As the service began, the congregation consisted of the pastor, the organist, and I, the exceedingly helpful church lady, and the family for the baptism: maybe a grand total of 15 people. Oh, and…of course, a squirrel who I’m sure was busy opening its heart for the gospel message. But just as I began my sermon, a group of about 15 people wandered into the sanctuary that neither the pastor nor I had ever seen before. Though we were few, we worshiped with hearts full, we greeted one another in peace, and we celebrated the birth of Jesus.
After the service, I got a chance to meet that group that had wandered in. It turned out that the grandparents of the family had been married in our church fifty years ago on that day exactly. They had brought their children and grandchildren to show them a place that had united them in love, that had helped to form them into who they were as a family. They took wedding-style photographs as bride and groom once more in front of only slightly chewed poinsettias.
I think perhaps we were the only church in Roswell to hold services that day and, certainly, with good reason. But amazing things happened because the doors of the church were open: a baby was washed in the waters of baptism and welcomed into the family of Christ; her young family publicly claimed their joyful responsibility to raise her in love and in faith; another family – strangers to us – reconnected with the love that launched them on their way; and a little squirrel stayed hidden and safe – not ruining anything else, so far as we could tell.
The day felt full of mercy and miracle. All of us were uprooted from our normal lives and re-rooted to something new because we were forced to arrive, not as hosts, but as guests. Goliath roared mightily and it would seem that he could shut everything down, but we came to one another as strangers in need. And because we were all sort of stranded together, we showed up for one another. And sometimes, all it takes to see the light of Christ working in our world is for us to show up with arms open.
[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roswell,_New_Mexico
[2] https://weather.com/forecast/national/news/winter-storm-goliath-forecast-snow-blizzard