The Christmas season is notoriously busy for Churches. Adding Christmas Eve services along with special advent services, staff Christmas parties, guest speaking engagements, and a multiplicity of holiday dinners can stretch Church leadership to the breaking point.

In response to this, some churches have begun closing their doors the Sunday between Christmas and New Year’s. The rationale is simple: church attendance is ordinarily low after Christmas and ministry workers could use the weekend to rest with their families. Instead, everyone can take a break and come back refreshed after the New Year.

The logic makes sense. And I can see some benefits to this approach. But I believe there are five compelling reasons that churches should reject this trend. The disservice done to those who call our church “home” far outweighs whatever benefits we may think we’re providing.

We Take Community Away from Those Who Need It

One of the taglines used by churches who cancel church is “Spend time worshiping at home with your family.”

This sounds good in principle, but it’s actually cruel to those who don’t have the privilege of a Christian family.

What of those who are alone for Christmas, separated from their families or altogether without one? What of those who come from families that don’t recognize Jesus and have no interest in worshipping? What of those who are struggling with depression and anxiety who need the Body of Christ for encouragement and a compelling reason not to spend the day in bed? What of those who look forward to the Church doors being open so they can see their friends, not feel alone, and enjoy the fellowship of the saints? Are we really willing to take all of this away so that a portion of our congregation can “worship at home with their family”?

Such a statement may expose some of the blinders of our church. Do we think everyone comes from functional nuclear families? Do we assume that Christmas is a time of joy for everyone, and not a season that can bring up pain and loneliness? Are we only seeing the part of our congregation that looks like us?

We Withhold the Ordinary Means of Grace

It is true, people can listen to a sermon online through websites and podcasts. I praise God for the gift of technology that connects us with preaching from around the world.

But preaching isn’t a spectator sport. It isn’t something that we simply watch. Preaching is something we participate in from the pews.

As Christopher Ash said a few years ago, “Listening to sermons is not a ‘me and God’ thing; it’s a “God shaping us together’ thing.” Receiving the preaching of God’s Word is designed to be a communal experience. Sure, you can watch a sermon online. You receive a sermon among the community of believers.

This is why, in the Reformed tradition, we understand the preaching of the Word to be a “means of grace.” We get this idea from one of our confessional documents, the Westminster Shorter Catechism. Question 88 reads, “What are the outward and ordinary means whereby Christ communicateth to us the benefits of redemption?”

The answer: “The outward and ordinary means whereby Christ communicateth to us the benefits of redemption (grace) are, his ordinances, especially the Word, sacraments, and prayer; all of which are made effectual to the elect for salvation.” (emphasis and interjection mine)

The preaching of the Word is how the gathered people of God receive grace to live the Christian life and grow in our sanctification. To close the church on a Sunday morning with the caveat that we could listen to the sermon online is an adventure in missing the point. We’re not just listening to a sermon. We’re receiving grace from the hand of God. If we close our churches the weekend after Christmas, we’re withholding the ordinary means of grace from our people.

We Communicate a Self-Sufficient Gospel

One of the biggest problems in our society is individualism. Instead of relying on community, we strike out on our own. “I don’t need anyone but me” is an American creed that churches are continually forced to confront and repudiate.

I don’t believe churches are intentionally communicating this, but unspoken communication is sometimes louder than what we say with words. By closing our church doors, are we agreeing with the world? Are we saying that “me and Jesus” time is just as valuable as the time we have with our brothers and sisters in the presence of God?

If I don’t need church this weekend, do I need it any weekend? Or should I just focus on my own spiritual life and the spiritual life of my family?

How will our members exercise their spiritual gifts if they’re not in worship? What acts of service for my fellow saints can be practiced when I’m told to stay home?

By closing for the weekend, we’re communicating that we can be self-sufficient in our relationship with Jesus. At least for a week, we don’t need each other. It’s a message that will be heard loud and clear, a message that we may not want to teach our flocks.

We Make Church About “The Leadership”

One pastor said on Twitter last year something to this effect, “All these pastors mad at churches closing won’t even be in their pulpits this weekend. They’ll have the youth pastor preach.”

It’s true that many pastors take the weekend after Christmas as a vacation weekend. This is normally owing to what our friends have noted: pastors are tired after the busy-ness of the advent season.

But it’s not about the person preaching. It’s not about the leadership of the church. It’s about Jesus. It’s about the Word being proclaimed. It’s about the worship of the gathered saints.

Many pastors took Labor Day weekend off. And vacations will happen throughout the summer. Should the churches close their doors? Absolutely not! Because church isn’t about the leadership, it’s about bringing Glory to God.

So yes, maybe your youth pastor or one of your elders will preach. And the sermon might not be “as good” as when your every-week teaching pastor is there. But if church isn’t about performance and it’s not about hearing from your particular leader but is rather about communing together in the presence of God, then maybe the Pastor’s vacation doesn’t mean everyone should stay home.

We Neglect Worship

Finally, when we close our church doors we are taking away the opportunity for worship. Yes, you can worship on your own. But it’s not the same as when you’re gathered with the saints. It’s not the same as seeing that saint who’s had a hard week raise her hands in praise. It’s not the same as sitting next to someone new and learning a name. It’s not the same as asking to talk with someone after the sermon because something didn’t sit quite right with you. It’s not the same as feeling the conviction of the Holy Spirit and coming forward for prayer.

As I meet and speak with global workers, I’m struck by some of the stories they tell me. I’m especially amazed by the faithfulness of those who follow Jesus in countries that persecute believers. Many of us have heard the stories of house churches in China and small bands of believers in Iran. They worship in secret, meeting together at risk of imprisonment or worse. Yet they come.

We in the United States have the ability to worship every weekend without fear of government reprisal. Would we give this up because some of us are tired? Would we give this up so that a handful of people can have a “weekend off”?

Being tired is real. And people need breaks. We need to make sure we raise up enough people to serve so that the weight of the church isn’t only on a couple of shoulders. We should come to the Lord in prayer for more workers in our field so that we don’t have to do it alone. Perhaps we even think creatively, encouraging our flock to join a neighboring church (and then — leaders — go with them!) one year and then in our church building the next.

Whatever you decide, I implore you, brothers and sisters, don’t cancel church. Don’t take away the ordinary means of grace. Don’t close the one place that many of our spiritual family members need to get through the week. Don’t neglect the worship of our Savior and King.

Don’t cancel church after Christmas.