State of the Parish
January 22, 1995
I’m taking the sermon time to present the State of the Parish Address for three reasons. First, I want to present a framework for our meeting. Second, I want to have our meeting be more of a dialogue and less of a monologue. And third, I want to reach more people, and I don’t think everybody who comes to the worship service will be able to come for lunch and the meeting.
So let me start out by saying it’s been a difficult year. Staff-wise, it has been difficult with the retirement of an important friend and co-worker, the dismissal of one of the clergy, and the leaving of two valued part-time people. Changes are always hard. The financial crunch and the unrealistic viewpoint of so many people who maintain that we are a rich, successful paIish – and don’t really need to have people raise the level of stewardship – has been hard to overcome. Finally, the difficulty that has resulted from working with plans and hopes that have to be constantly adjusted because of an inadequate physical plant. A plant that is deteriorating rapidly and is ill-suited for a number of necessary actions. Believe me, this has made it a difficult year.
But when I let the difficulties get to me, I am often reminded of a wonderful story from Moss Hart’s book, “Act One.” The story has become a classic in Jewish anecdotes.
Hart had a brother, Bernie, who was his stage manager for many shows. Once, the two of them were working on a new play that opened in Washington. The critics panned it, and the public stayed away in droves. It closed temporarily after a few performances.
Moss went to work rewriting. The cast worked hard, hoping that their theatrical magic would come through. But the more everybody worked, the worse it seemed to get. One day, Bernie realized that they had reached the bottom, and he tried to reassure his brother. “Moss,” he said, We Jews made it out of Egypt, and we will get out of Washington.”
I have thought of that piece of advice several times in the past few months. And I found myself reassuring myself by saying, ‘We’ve made it through other difficult times, and we will probably survive this one.”
The truth of the matter is that we have been living on the edge. We are not realistic about our finances. Our expenses far exceed our income. And our dreams are usually far ahead of our stewardship. Usually, we have indeed managed to keep the wolf away from the door (to use an old Depression cliché), but it has only been because of some unplanned acts of generosity. The trouble is that you can’t always hope that the cavalry will show up in the last reel and make everything come out the way Hollywood would have us believe.
The finance people have quite rightly directed us to stop living on the edge – and to realistically concentrate on bringing our resources in line with our stewardship. This is going to necessitate our being more critical about how and when we spend our money.
I don’t disagree with this counsel – certainly belt-tightening is healthy – but I don’t want this State of the Parish Address to sound like it was ghostwritten by Newt Gingrich. Nor do I want us to become overly depressed and lose sight of our goals. Recently, a friend told me of an incident that was a kind of parable for me. He was waiting by an entrance where a sign instructed drivers to “yield.” Unfortunately, he got behind someone who just kept waiting and waiting as the traffic roared by. Finally, frustration got to him – and he rolled down his window and yelled, ‘Hey – the sign says yield – not give up.”
Well, I hope we can yield and make a few priority changes and not give up. I will always remember Peter Drucker’s counsel: ‘The church,” he said, “has a tendency to feed problems and starve opportunities.” God willing, this parish will not be like most parishes, and just give up because of a financial crisis, or just worry about finances, and play it safe.
A few weeks ago, I met with the clergy to discuss the State of the Parish Address. They suggested that we focus on our vision and what is exciting about our dreams. As one person said, ‘You’re a dreamer and you have emphasized dreaming over the years. Don’t stop now.” So, in that spirit, let me go on with our dreams and less on our problems.
The first dream, for the coming year, comes directly from the Vestry. They have even named it; St. Philip’s Academy. This Academy is going to call for a priority shift toward children’s work. This is going to call forth a greater emphasis on Sunday School, after-school programs, and possibly a day school, starting with a nursery school. St. Philip’s Academy will concentrate on music and the arts, as well as pioneering new ways to educate our young people. Our music program is one of the best in the country – and our Vestry wants to expand on that base with the education for our young people_
Our second dream is to reach out to younger adults while still maintaining our ministries to those of us with gray hair. The parish leadership in the future will be coming from those people in the 20 to 40-year age bracket. It behooves us to expand ways to reach this age group.
The third dream is a big one, but it is a necessary component of the first two. That dream is to expand the Gallery and build some new buildings. We are constantly hampered by our lack of facilities. Right now, we need more church school rooms, more meeting rooms. La Casita and La Panoquia are on their last legs. We have got to do something about them, and patching will no longer suffice. Frankly, I was hoping to dodge that bullet, but I have become convinced that if we are to be responsive to God’s call, we have to act now.
Well, what does all this say to us as a parish? Why go forward? Why not stop and live out our days? After all, building and starting new programs and attracting new people inevitably leads to upsets. Changing the status quo produces pain and anxiety. And all of this makes greater demands upon our energies and resources. Sometimes I say to myself, “Roger, just let it all be. Things are relatively peaceful. Life is pretty good. Why not sit back and enjoy what has been accomplished? But then a voice comes to me and says, “Follow me” – which doesn’t mean sitting back, doesn’t mean letting someone else do it, doesn’t mean playing it safe.
Let me end our thoughts by referring to our first lesson from Acts. You might recall, it took place on the road from Jerusalem to Gaza. But the spirit of the story is rooted right here on River Road. It is the story of a young Ethiopian who was traveling on that road. He meets Philip, our patron Saint, in whose honor the parish is named. Philip and the Ethiopian fall into a discussion about a passage in the Bible. And Philip uses this opportunay to share his faith in Jesus Christ. The Ethiopian then responds with the spirit that animates & God willing, this parish_ He looks out of his carriage and says, “Here is water. What is to prevent my being baptized?” The modern expression of that spirit is: “Hey, why not? Let’s give it a try. What is there to prevent us from following the impulses of the Spirit?’
My hope – my dream – is that little vignette can be part of the vision of our parish as we face the coming years. That more and more people are willing to say: ‘Hey, why not? Let’s give it a try.” AMEN.