From the Rector…
It’s not often that I get to sit in the pew on a Sunday morning. This past Sunday, Steve and I went to church at Holy Spirit Episcopal Church in Gulf Shores. We are here on vacation and have visited the little church on Fort Morgan road about once a year for the last thirty years.
One of my seminary classmates is the rector and as soon as I walked in the door he and I began to give each other a little grief—all in good fun. He tried to ban me from worship and I told him I had brought a score card to grade the service. The others around us quickly caught on that we knew each other and smiled appreciatively at our teasing of one another. We exchanged hugs and went to find a seat on a back pew of the church.
We were barely in the pew when another old friend who we hadn’t seen for some time noticed us and flew across the aisle to give us a hug. The procession had scarcely passed when the priest’s spouse saw us and also came to hug our necks. Our hearts were filled and we hadn’t even sung the second stanza of “O day of radiant gladness.”
As is Holy Spirit’s custom, we were introduced at the announcement time. Though I generally don’t like being recognized in church, this is the exception. I know the custom here and have experienced it every time we come to worship. (Though I do wonder if we might not lay claim to an honorary membership status as there are plenty of people who only attend church once a year and claim to be members.) We were well received by many and after the service those who had smiled warmly at us, made a point to come talk to us and express their gratitude for our worshipping with them.
Our experience on Sunday was a good reminder as to why coming to church is so important. You cannot have your hand shaken or your neck hugged through a screen. And though you may hear a good message from the preacher or beautiful music being sung, the rush of endorphins and good feelings is limited unless you are physically present.
As a society, we have seen a significant reduction in attendance at church since the pandemic. Most researchers claim that the number one reason for our lack of attendance is the loss of habit. Prior to the pandemic we were in the habit of going to church. It was an accepted social norm and a part of our spiritual discipleship. After a year or two of not attending church and listening to the reinforcing rhetoric of staying home—we stopped engaging with church and have had trouble reengaging since. This is as true of CoA as it is of other churches—Episcopal, Protestant, even Catholic.
The years prior to pandemic were already bearing witness to the decline of organized religion in America. Now, it seems to have sped up a little. When I think of where influence lies and realize the limited access the church has on the world, I am not that surprised by partisan politics and increased global anxiety. You will not find hope in a world filled with woe and scarcity thinking.
This Sunday begins our annual stewardship campaign, and though the church needs money to operate—pay employees, fund mission and outreach, even keep the lights on—I am less concerned with these things than I am with the spiritual health and vitality of our very souls. Giving is about transformation. When we give our money in service of God’s purposes, we begin to transform our relationship with money, with God, with ourselves. When we give our time—by coming to church, worshipping, and volunteering—we transform how we understand the world and the role we play as kingdom dwellers in this earth.
Going to church at Holy Spirit reminded me of how transformative showing up can be. To be welcomed and appreciated simply because you showed up fills your heart in expansive ways and reminds you of the ever-present hope that dwelling in the kingdom brings. It truly was a day of “radiant gladness.”
Light and Life,
Candice+