The local pastor remembers walking next door with his brother to attend church 60 years ago.
He recalls the effect that the First Congregational Church of Webster had on his life, its stability, its teachings and, of course, its Christmas Eve Service.
“We had great pastors, great part-time ministers who were influential on me,” said David Richardson, the church’s pastor the past five years. “It’s a joyous event this time of year, so no one is happy about this.”
The town continues to adjust to this recent news, that, for the second straight year, the First Congregational Church of Webster has canceled its Christmas Eve Service.
The decision, made this week by a pair of committees and coordinated by Richardson, reflects the church’s progressive views, its stance that science tells them that shoehorning as many as 180 people into this house of worship is a bad idea.
COVID’s numbers suggest a boomerang-like effect, with infections sailing far away for a while, then zooming right back to where they started, as high as they’ve ever been.
“We are not comfortable, given what is going on with COVID,” Richardson said. “It would have put the wrong image out there, for who we are in this town. We are supposed to serve our community, and I do not think that is serving our community at this point.”
Webster, with a population smaller than some high schools at 1,900 residents, has fared statistically better than some areas of the state against the virus. About 250 people have tested positive for the coronavirus with 25 active cases, according to state data. Those numbers are fairly low, but so is the town’s vaccination rate, with 51% of residents fully vaccinated.
Things were different last year when for the first time since, perhaps, the war years of the 1940s, the Webster lights for Christmas Eve activities were unplugged due to COVID. Even with vaccines publicly available this year, it’s happened again.
This stings Richardson, who’s 65, more than most. He grew up in Webster, adjacent to the First Congregational Church. He walked to church on Sunday mornings. He embraced the church’s views.
And, sandwiched somewhere in his boyhood mix, Richardson hinted at some mischief.
“Being a pastor in your hometown is not the easiest thing,” Richardson explained. “They know all your warts and mistakes growing up. But it’s a great town and everyone has been great.”
As he grew up, Richardson settled down, earned an MBA from Plymouth State College, got married, moved to Concord.
His old church, its teachings, the congregation, the sense of belonging, never left him, and Richardson graduated from the Andover Newton Theological School, giving him two Master’s degrees and, in his 40s, a decision: business or religion.
“I always went to that church and I always felt a calling,” Richardson said. “I figured I should do it before I got too old.”
He came back home, on that same street, near that same church. He filled in when needed and was offered the job, full-time, in 2016. He recalled the Christmas Eve Service from four or five years ago, when about 180 worshippers attended and sang and prayed and celebrated their hearts out.
“That was an area we were concerned about,” Richardson noted. “The church holds 200, and if you stick 180 people in there, that might not be comfortable for some people.”
He said the decision to cancel gained steam earlier this week at a Nashua hospital, where Richardson serves as Chaplin and had endured weeks and months of comforting people who’d lost someone to COVID. He prayed with families and staff there.
Tired, and with his church’s Christmas Eve Service bearing down on the town like Rudolph running late, he wrote an email to his congregation, aimed at the Trustees and the Deacons, the committees in charge of researching, gauging public opinion and reaching a final decision.
The email went out on Tuesday, and all nine votes counted said staging the event was too risky. Shut it down.
The plan now is to open the church for its normal Sunday service. That, Richardson said, usually draws about 40 people, who are easily distanced from one another, with sections for both those who wear masks and those who don’t.
However, ensuring the safety of more than five times that amount, the usual number for the traditional Christmas Eve Service, appeared too daunting.
“I’m heartbroken,” Richardson said. “Christmas is our time to reach out to the community and say, ‘We are here for you.’ No one is happy, but we did it out of wisdom, not fear.”