By Mike Grundmann, Contributor
It’s time for worship at Church of the Lamb. Dress for the weather because the service is outdoors most of the year.
That also means Basil the rooster crowing during the sermon. Or Joan of Arc, the pastor’s family cat, threading through your legs.
The worship space is an open barn in Penn Laird, a rusty but sturdy 75-year-old sheet-metal structure, where cattle once fed and left a surplus of manure.
It’s an Anglican community, 31 acres, that hums with social activities as well as labor on behalf of Rockingham Abbey, which sustains the property ecologically and markets farm goods and international coffees.
The congregation got its start in Elkton, then moved to Redeemer Classical School in Keezletown, then moved outdoors at Redeemer because of COVID, and finally to the barn in May 2023.
The challenge that weather brings to worship there is not an accidental one. “Endurance” is what Pastor Kevin Whitfield calls a necessary part of faith, not only spiritual but physical.
Daniel Zimmerman, director of the Rockingham Abbey, elaborates on the virtue: “In a world of immediate comforts, it strips some of that away and reminds us we have an embodied faith.” The congregation is “a hardy people willing to tolerate discomfort for the great vision we have.”
Whitfield says, “We’ve worshiped when there was freezing rain so loud that it nearly drowned out our voices, and still had nearly 200 people.”
“When a storm cuts loose, dropping hail in middle of a sermon, that changes the experience of worship,” Zimmerman says. For one thing, “The roof is not entirely leakproof.”
“I didn’t learn about these things in seminary,” Whitfield says.
The structure, roughly 40 by 40 feet and 16 feet at its peak, has lots of wooden “Y” bracing on the walls and pillars. There’s room for the altar, musical instruments, Eucharist and baptisms, and four loudspeakers in the front and back. A nearby trailer, sparkling white, holds several fancy port-a-potties.
Winter worship has meant coats, blankets and warmth from two long overhead propane heaters. Summer means dressing down, with a breeze from the wall-mounted fans.
Spillover attendance, a regular thing, is accommodated by white tents at the barn’s edge. Buckets filled with concrete keep the tents from taking flight.
“In summer, I’ve gotta get next to a fan,” says parishioner Tom Perkins, 77.
“We sweat a lot,” Whitfield adds. And “when it rains, people under the tents get soaked up to their knees.”
On one of the bitterly cold days, Perkins recalls, Whitfield’s “eyes got watery” gazing at such a dedicated congregation. It was emotion, not the temperature.
“People don’t complain,” Whitfield says. “If they’re here, it’s because they want to be here.”
Parishioner Kristi Pascarella says, “Just being outside in God’s world, hearing birds singing, wrapped up in blankets, among big trees, it just became very natural.”
With surprises.
“They had to start storing all the folding chairs in a trailer because the mice were eating the seats,” she said.
Rain, mud and ice make the walk from the parking lot another endurance test.
The church website says, “Come as you are. Just maybe don’t come in your best shoes.” The path froze last year and the service was moved to the Keezletown Ruritan Hall a half mile down Indian Trail Road. This year, for the first time, all Sunday services will be at the Ruritan Hall from December through March.
On Sundays, still at the barn, tables under the tents are lined with bagels and coffee dispensers with high-grade, home-roasted product from Latin America, Africa or the Caribbean. Abbey Coffee Roasters profitably markets those beans to the public.
The view from the barn takes in Massanutten peak, grazing beef cattle and Cub Run, where kids get their feet muddy. A mile-long walking trail encircles the property.
The website explains that an abbey is a place where prayer and work happen together: rest before action. Zimmerman says the coffee operation should gross $20,000 this year. And honey will also be a profit enterprise, marketing for other producers as well.
The creek is being lined with hundreds of trees to prevent erosion and restore the streambed. The young orchard has about 50 trees, including native apple, pear, peach, plum, fig, persimmon, nectarine and cherry. The vegetable garden includes tomatoes, beets, cucumber, squash and potatoes.
Zimmerman says there will be more animals next year, probably chickens and sheep, with protection against nearby predators.
The congregation is proud of its home.
“There is an aura about the place,” Perkins says. “Everybody is tight with each other. When people are sick, there are meals lined up. … You don’t feel alone.”
“We have small groups that meet during the week,” Pascarella says. “We find out what each other’s needs are or health issues. A lot of babies are born. … The church has grown like crazy. A year ago last summer, we had 20 kids. Now it’s 70, at least. And I think our oldest is 89.”
The leadership is planning for an indoor home in a few years, but still using the barn for varied events. Worship capacity would probably be about 300.
Perkins shares a tip for newcomers.
“You gotta be fairly quick on the bagels.”
Mike Grundmann is a retired JMU journalism professor who previously worked as a reporter and editor for eight California newspapers, including the Los Angeles Times. He has produced 10 award-winning documentaries.
Thanks for reading The Citizen, which won the Virginia Press Association’s 2022 News Sweepstakes award as the top online news site in Virginia. We’re independent. We’re local. We pay our contributors, and the money you give goes directly to the reporting. No overhead. No printing costs. Just facts, stories and context. We value your support.
