Chrysalis

Annual Address 2010
(Nehemiah 8: 1-3, 5-6, 8-10; Ps 19; 1 Cor 12: 12-31a; Luke 4: 14-21)


Just last night I completely re-wrote this year’s address. I was inspired and shaped by Father Lindsay Warren’s funeral last Friday.

Many of us feel we knew Lindsay in some meaningful way. To those who did not, know that Lindsay was a priest and a faithful parish member, friend of many of us. Lindsay was a keen and thoughtful observer of the ways of God in this parish of Saints Peter and Paul.

Lindsay did not commit himself to this parish because he liked formal worship, incense, chant, and even traditional hymnody. His personal worship tastes were more simple and informal. He never got the Celtic thing and told me so. He was mystified by the term “emerging church.” But Lindsay came here and stayed here because he loved this community, and because he believed that God was at work among us. His highest praise was that our parish language had changed during his time into language of mission and of the Gospel, of reaching out.

And Lindsay was prophetic in his observations of our life and our challenges. On Friday I told of his imagery for the present reality of the church. “The chrysalis”, he said. “The caterpillar spins a cocoon and becomes a chrysalis. Within the chrysalis, the caterpillar actually dies. For a time it is just goo. With time a totally different creature emerges, one that does not look like the caterpillar at all—a butterfly.”

He also said, less poetically but very insightfully, “The greatest challenge of the church in our time is to welcome new people and bring forth new life, yet honor and bring along the older members.”

We have become, within the space of a few years, a very different community. We are composed of long-term members who have made our life possible through presence and work and giving. Many of these are of my generation, baby-boomers. We are also composed of a large number of people who have been here five years or less. Many of these are young adults and are now prominent in parish leadership. We have many among us who were drawn here and whom have stayed because of the Celtic Christian vision. Others like our stress on outreach. Others are drawn to our atmosphere of intentional prayer rooted in the monastic tradition and a deep sense of sacrament. Others, because the music speaks to them. And now we have a new community among us whose first language is Spanish and whose reasons for coming and staying with us we are still learning about. We are traditional and conservative, post-modern and progressive, young and old, English-speaking and Spanish-speaking, all at once.

The new directory is coming out next week. I find it a startling document. I look at it and realize how we have changed.

We have changed, because we have said goodbye to many dear friends,
including Peggy Stricklan, Darlene Tindall, Bruce Mason, and Fr. Lindsay Warren. (+)

We have changed, because new people bring new dynamics and new relationships and the perception and attitudes of the changing culture that they inhabit. Among these are Scott and Kris Kennedy, Lydia Ledgerwood and Steve Eberlein with baby Zoe born last year, Bert Roberts, Fr. John and Ellen Nesbitt, Rachel Walton, Melissa King, Monica Goracke with young Suchitra with her lovely smile, Miranda Powell, Jamie Marks returned after an absence, lately Maggie Iba, and babies Lydia Wolf-Munzer and Travis Oates newly-born. And these are only the English-speaking households! A number of new households are regular worshipping and giving members from the Spanish Mass. Only because our database for the Misa folks is so poor am I not listing their names today.

We have changed without significant changes in worship schedule, worship practices, or the basics of weekly life at SPP. It’s important to say that, because we need to be clear about what we mean when we talk about “changes”, whether we use that word positively or negatively.

Lindsay’s comment about the challenge of reaching out to new people and welcoming new life, yet honoring those who have journeyed long with us, rings loud and clear. It is in fact a gooey time to use Fr. Lindsay’s chrysalis analogy, a time when things feel fragile and undefined and confusing and unsure as to the outcome. Often it feels like some things are dying. Just remember that death, for caterpillars as well as for churches, leads to new and abundant life.

It is a time that calls for prayer and for humility and for charity towards one another. Paul’s church in Corinth faced the same temptation that we do, which is to wish for a monochromatic church composed of people with whom we completely agree, of whom we completely approve. No part of the body can say to the other, “I do not need you” says Paul. That wisdom is put to the test now, in our midst, as all of us who are here are needed, all are part of the body.

It is a time when we need to practice deep and respectful listening to one another and to God. We have great gifts, but we have great challenges. For example, we have two challenges regarding money—a big deficit in our operating budget as well as how to responsibly disburse an estate given to us to ensure our long-term future. It’s funny how money is a challenge when you don’t have it, and when you do.

It is a time that calls for re-commitment from all continuing members, and an invitation to commitment to the newest among us.

Someone told me that I need to ask people to do more things. I was also told that I should not be afraid to scold people for not stepping up.

Well, I’ve asked people to do things a lot, and I get told “no” a lot. I understand—most of us feel stressed and time-poor. But “no” often means that a piece of our life does not get done, or it gets done by an increasingly small number of tired and frustrated people.

And I am not a good scolder. But I will speak frankly to us about how I think we all need to step up, to renew or deepen or begin commitment.

To those who are trying to sustain our life by hard and often thankless work, thank you. Speak up and point out what needs to be done, and what help is needed. But also be open to the fact that life has changed, and perhaps some tasks need to be done differently or with new approaches that new people need to feel free to try.

To our loved elders who are still with us, thank you. We need you more than you can know.

To longtime members of my own generation, the new elders, “baby-boomers” if you will, thank you for your ongoing witness and all the blood and sweat and tears that has made our life possible. Our task now is to be “good elders”, which is an art and a daily discipline. Being a good elder means speaking up when we feel we have insights or past experience which is helpful, but also to listen to those newer and those younger and admire their energy, encourage their dreams, and let them try things. Being a good elder means balancing moderation and caution with encouragement and openness. Being a good elder means leading by example, even if we feel that we have “given at the office” and it is time for someone else to do the heavy lifting. Tiredness, cynicism, disillusionment, bitterness, and fear are the temptations of people our age. I know—I wrestle with them all daily and not always successfully. But wrestle we must, in order to be “good elders” and not become some of those older folk that we remember as not letting us try anything, who seemed to have nothing but criticism.

To those newer among us, thank you for coming and giving of your lives and dreams. You have and do enrich us. Your task is to explore how you may become more deeply a participant in the life of Christ here and join with us in growing this community. When a piece of churchy culture is murky or unexplained, ask us—we may be blind to how obscure our life is. Ask how to be more involved. Be patient—we welcome new dreams and visions, but we get to the community we envision by loving the community which is. Dream, ask “why not?”, ask questions, but be with us and work with patience and with commitment—real human communities do not change overnight.

All of this is totally worthwhile. Did you know that the word “church” is from Greek and means “belonging to the Lord”? Ragged a band as we are, diverse and hanging together by God knows what, we belong to Christ. We belong to the Lord. And our Lord shares his own mission freely with us, and we with the world.