Seeking solace and refuge, not only in crisis but always
Before heading to church on Tuesday morning, September 11, 2001, I sent a quick email to a friend, wishing her a happy birthday. In the subject line of the email, I wrote “A Day Like No Other.” Little did I know how frighteningly true that simple statement would become. As I drove the short distance between my home and St. John’s United Church of Christ, I realized my car was having some problems, so pulled over in front of the local radio station and called for assistance, then went inside to let the folks at WNPV know why my vehicle was parked out front. Everyone was staring at the television screen in shock and disbelief, viewing the footage of what had just happened in New York City as planes flew into the twin towers.
When I arrived at church, parents who had just dropped off children at the Montessori school in our building were opting to take their children home. Throughout the day, several people came to the church, not because they had an appointment or a meeting to attend, but because they were looking for a place of safe refuge. Shaken to the core by the unfolding of events that day, not only in New York but at the Pentagon and in Shanksville, PA, they told me they had come to church because they needed to feel close to God . . . needed to feel safe . . . needed something to comfort them in their distress.
The Sunday after 9/11, the church was packed. Families I had not seen in a long time were huddled together in the pews, listening expectantly, hoping for something that would make things less scary, less awful, less incomprehensible. Even though I waved no magic wand that morning and the reality of the horrors of 9/11 did not miraculously disappear, somehow we all left worship feeling reassured of God’s presence and just a bit calmer because of what we had experienced together as a community of faith.
Sadly, far too often it takes a crisis or tragedy to draw people to their houses of worship, and when they do show up, they expect that suddenly all will be well. That, however, is not how it works. Convinced that regular attendance and participation in worship is not necessary — after all, God can be encountered anywhere, right? — the occasional worshipper misses out on the experience of God’s presence in the gathered community week in and week out — a presence that equips us to address crises and tragedies when they do occur with a strength and steadiness not often felt by those who turn to God only when everything is falling apart.
Regular participation in worship was a given for the Jewish people, whose pilgrimages to Jerusalem for high holy days are well documented in the Hebrew Scriptures. And in the Christian Scriptures, we are urged “not to forsake the assembling of ourselves together.” May we not wait for a tragedy or crisis to seek out our faith communities. May worshipping regularly with fellow pilgrims on life’s journey be part of our routine, knowing that while choosing to do so will not prevent awful things from happening, it will equip us to better deal with the unimaginable when it occurs. The more practice we have searching for and experiencing God’s presence, the closer God will feel when we most need what only God can offer.