The State of the Parish
January 17, 1999
Luke 4: 16-30
We begin with words read in high school. “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom. It was the age of foolishness. It was the epoch of belief. It was the epoch of incredulity. It was the season of light. It was the season of darkness. It was the spring of hope. It was the winter of despair.” And so began , A Tale of Two Cities.
Charles Dickens wrote of two cities in his time. I would speak of two churches in our day.
One church finished a capital campaign about ten years ago. At that time, it had many communicants, a large staff, a quality program, and no great problems. The parish was happy, homogenous, and relatively unconflicted. As the years continued, fewer and fewer people supported the parish. After all, it was easy to see there were no real needs. Somehow, the vestry, in its wisdom, always managed to fit its budget to the dwindling pledge figure. As we used to say, they cut the cloth to fit the person or income. Religious downsizing became an art.
At the same time, the endowment grew, and the plant was kept in excellent shape. Sunny BaI, our People’s Warden, attended this kind of parish six weeks ago, and he reported there were about fifty people at worship. The plant was beautiful, but the spirit had left. His description to me was, “It was deader than a doornail.”
The second church had also finished a building
project ten years ago. But, instead of stopping to catch its breath, it went on to hire new staff, introduce new programs, and dream of new exciting goals. Goals beyond what they logically could afford. In the last ten years, there have been tensions and conflicts. Many old-timers were saying that the changes represented fiscal mismanagement. For ten years, this church has been living on the edge. But for ten years, this parish has been doing some wonderful things for God. And now it’s spiritually alive, vibrant, an exciting place that is growing, changing, constantly reinventing itself, and still living on the edge.
Good people, the tale of two churches is real. Hundreds of parishes have stood at these crossroads, particularly after the completion of a building program. The choice to live on the edge and be alive, or to rest on one’s laurels, preferring comfort to conflict, is what many parishes face. To live or to die, that’s our choice. And that is why today is a significant moment in our journey. We can begin the best of times, or be moving toward the worst of times.
Don’t misunderstand me. Life is blooming at St_ Philip’s. The energy, creativity, and dedication that we have shown are beyond my wildest dreams. What we have accomplished in the last twelve months is simply outstanding. Way beyond the building of a building, we’ve touched lives, transformed people, and become a beacon of hope to parishes all over the country.
I am constantly amazed at how we have been able to respond to challenges. This past month, we put out the word that we needed new playground equipment. We tried to package the need around a raffle, but many responded so quickly that even before the raffle was over, we raised the necessary $15,000. Before Christmas, we spoke of a Richey and Mission View outreach project. Suddenly, $10,000 appeared before we had even finished the appeal. This past Spring, I asked you to consider a miracle. We wanted to fund an extra salary for a priest/ organist. In one Sunday, $48,000 came in joyfully. Now that is just amazing. Not the money, but the response this parish makes to Challenges.
And it is because of these responses that I dare to dream of new initiatives for the coming year. Initiatives in health care and children’s education programs – in partnerships. Initiatives in making this sacred place more open to the community. Initiatives that are going to call for sacrifice and living on the edge. But that’s what the choice is all about. Living on the edge or dying in comfort.
If you attend the parish meeting (and I hope you will), you will see a very logical, balanced budget. But I want you to hear this, if nothing else. God is not interested in balanced budgets. My task is to unbalance the budget. My task is to challenge us to go for broke in ’99.
Let me relieve the treasurer. I don’t mean that in a monetary way. Going for broke is a gambling term; I’m primarily talking about taking risks. I’m talking about not letting our income statements determine our vision.
I’m challenging us here to make some Changes in the way most Episcopal parishes operate. To think of a parish in different terms, to make some bold steps into the year 2000
I know this is hard for long-time Episcopalians. We are the denomination that stands for the status quo. We want everything to be decent and in order (even our budgets). We hold fast to traditions, whether they are helpful or not. I’m sure you’ve heard the joke about how many Episcopalians it takes to change a light bulb? It takes ten. One to change the bulb, and nine to talk about how good the old one was. But enough of comedy and back to the sermon.
I chose the fourth chapter of Luke for the Gospel this morning because it seemed to be Jesus’ state of the church speech. It’s where he begins his ministry. It’s where the people who have known him, worked and played with him, are suddenly confronted with Jesus the Revolutionary. Jesus tells them a new day is dawning. The old ways are no longer acceptable. God wants us to reach out to more people than just our own. God calls us to live on the edge. I’d like Episcopalians the people of Nazareth are shocked. They are more than shocked. Horrified. They want to throw Jesus off a Cliff – I sometimes ask myself when, after preaching A sermon, has anybody ever wished to throw me off the pulpit. Maybe I failed the challenge
well today, in the state of the parish sermon, I would challenge our community challenge us to live on the edge. There are people who will want to relax. “We have just finished the big project” and I would respond, there would be plenty of time to rest in the grave. There are others who will say why change? We are way ahead of most Episcopal churches and I would remind you that God expects more from those who have more. And there are still others who would be convinced that we’re headed for disaster. I would say that we’re headed for heaven. In the weeks and months ahead, your response will decide if 1999 is the beginning of the best or the worst of times for Saint Phillips
Amen