A Snowmageddon Epiphany

2-8-10

After shoveling 28 inches of global warming from the driveway, and cramming 3 electric-less families into our house for the night, Sunday morning seemed to come so quickly. It was the second time I had slept in on a Sunday morning in a year. There was the sweet smell of a home-cooked brunch, and then my wife and I had a wonderful little church service with our 2 year old and 5 month old. We sang every preschool praise song we could imagine – and when we finished all 20, about 15 minutes had gone by. Next, we read half a Bible story and then summarized the rest as Juliana got antsy. Prayer was sweet and powerful, and then I nursed my sore back while wandering around the house looking for something meaningful to do before the Super Bowl Party, at which we weren't yet sure we were actually going to be able to watch the Super Bowl.

Somewhere in my wandering, in between house chores and Mythbusters, it dawned on me. There was something in my soul that was missing, a nagging itch that hadn't been scratched, a purpose for living that hadn't been fulfilled. I missed church, not the building, not the adrenaline rush of trying to pull off 2 morning services - with worship sets, 85 volunteers needing to show up on time, media ready, smile pasted on. I didn't even miss the service itself – my little family had truly met with God already that morning.

There was something else, something more that was missed. I missed little Hannah making up a name for her stuffed animal that day on the spot. I missed Aaron and Ryan struggling to remember the main points from the message, but then being so happy when they do. I missed Tom and June being more excited about teaching kids today than ever, after volunteering faithfully for 15 years. I missed meeting Lucy and her son Scott, who are trying out church again after the divorce – introducing them to Tom and June, and seeing little Scott's face light up during service. I missed hearing requests for prayer in every form and fashion, and listening to stories - sometimes funny, sometimes trivial, sometimes wonderful – about what had happened this past week.

Even though I knew all of that would be back next week, there was a profound sense of loss, because our community of believers had not met together. Our family church service, although charming, was something that happens on a smaller scale every single night. God has created us for larger scale community. He has called us to meet together with lots of people who can encourage and build each other up, He has created us for worship with all those people, and to hear His message with all those people. Household church alone doesn't cut it, cyber-church doesn't cut it, personal church doesn't cut it. God has a specific message that He only relays through the communities of gathered believers, and that's why He says, "Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another-- and all the more as you see the Day approaching." (Heb 10:25)

The beauty of the snow is already fading, the frustrations of the snow have even started to diminish, and although it might be some time in June before we can see grass again, this lesson will stick with me much longer – I am made for community.

Pastor Jared Stepp

Children's Pastor

South Hills Assembly

Bethel Park, PA

Acts 2:46 Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, ⁴⁷ praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.