What salsa dancing has taught me about church in the 21st Century: Annual Report 2019

Another year of growth, with exciting new developments in our common life and ministry as we were reminded by the lovely slide show prepared by Arianna. Before going further, I would like to thank the staff—Christina, Ari, Pat, the folks in the kitchen, Berkley and Mark, Vikki, and especially Deacon Carol. And the outgoing wardens John and Greg, and vestry members Paula, Kabura, and John, who agreed to fill out the balance of Jarrod Irwin’s term.

It’s great that we are growing, especially because we are going against the trend of decline in the diocese, the Episcopal Church, and Christianity in the US. Growth brings challenges. As new members join us, and as visitors continue to explore connecting with us, we are reaching the limits of what we can do with our current staff and volunteer base. We began talking about the possibility of calling an Associate Rector, the budget that is being presented to the congregation today includes funding for such a position beginning on July 1, but our conversation should be driven not by financial worry but by our desires to deepen our relationships with each other, to reach out more effectively and creatively into our city and to respond faithfully and courageously to God’s call.

Bishop Search.

In the coming year, we will say good bye to Bishop Miller as he retires after 17 years as the Bishop of the Diocese of Milwaukee. We will also begin to make plans for our next bishop. Even now, that search process is taking shape. The Standing Committee of the Diocese, the entity with the responsibility for overseeing episcopal transitions, is in the process of selecting a search committee. It’s likely that the members of that body will be made public before the end of the year.

The search consultant, the Rev’d Dr. Anne Hallisey, will be in the Diocese in January, leading the clergy retreat from January 20-22, and then holding a retreat with the Search Committee January 24-25. It’s been a long time since we’ve had an episcopal search, so it’s worth reminding you of the process. There will be intensive study of the current state of the diocese. Members of the search committee will visit parishes, interview clergy and lay people. There will be a survey distributed that will solicit opinions about the state of the diocese, perceived needs, and what we might like to see in the next bishop. Eventually, a diocesan profile will be prepared, and the names of nominees solicited. The search committee will hold a retreat with select candidates, visit them in their contexts, do the necessary vetting process, and eventually publish the list of nominees. But even after that, there will be the possibility of additional nominees being brought forward. An election date will be set; the candidates will tour the diocese giving us the opportunity for us to get to know them. Finally, there will be an electing convention. The candidate who receives a majority of votes from both the clergy and the delegates elected by parishes, will be elected bishop; but their ordination will not take place until they receive a majority of consents from bishops and standing committees of the dioceses of the Episcopal Church. We don’t know the timeline for any of this, but it’s likely that the process of election will take most of the next year, and we won’t have a new bishop until some time in 2021.

Many of you may wonder what any of this has to Grace Church. We see the bishop only rarely; few of us are involved in any diocesan ministries or commissions, beyond the Haiti Project, Deacon Carol’s work with the Commission on Global Reconciliation, and our delegates’ attendance at diocesan convention. Still, we are not a stand-alone congregation. The search for a new bishop provides us an opportunity to intensify our engagement with the diocese, help shape its future, and allow other congregations and clergy learn from our experience in downtown Madison over the last decade.

I am completing my second term as a member of Diocesan Executive Council. In the last year, I was asked by the Bishop to participate in a subcommittee of that body whose task was to look at the relationship of the Diocesan Haiti Project with the diocese as a whole. As we worked, it became clear that the future viability of the Haiti Project would depend on a period of intense diocesan engagement with the Project, helping to develop new leadership, bring transparency and stability to its finances, and raise its visibility in the diocese. I volunteered to co-chair the Haiti Project Steering Committee for at least a year as we sought to build on its strengths and address some of its vulnerabilities. Our work is made more challenging by the difficult situation on the ground in Haiti. I expect to continue involvement in that work for the immediate future but hope that by the end of 2020, new leadership will be in place to work with a new bishop to shape the future relationship between the diocese and this crucial outreach ministry.

New Homeless Shelter.

As most of you know, for a number of years a group from Grace Church have been exploring a bundle of issues around the possible redevelopment of the West Wing and the future of the Men’s Drop-In Shelter that Grace has hosted since 1984. In addition, there have been questions about the impact of the proposed new historical museum on our property. Over the last year, we have taken a number of significant steps. As we continue to research future possibilities for the West Wing, we worked with a developer on the economic feasibility of a limited project that would add a floor and create a roofline that would match the nave. Unfortunately, that possibility while aesthetically pleasing is not feasible economically. We have not had significant conversations with the Museum project developers in the last year.

Much of our work has focused on exploring whether there is interest and energy in the wider community for a new, purpose-built shelter adequate to the needs of our unhoused neighbors. We contracted with Ms. Susan Schmitz, retired president of Downtown Madison, Inc, to help us discern whether a new shelter project might be welcomed by both the private and public sectors. Her initial contract is concluding and with her help we have decided to move forward with the formation of a steering committee that will continue our work and build coalitions with the ultimate goal of a purpose-built shelter. Along with her, we have met with city and county elected officials and staff, service providers, and other stakeholders. There seems to be significant interest and momentum building that over time could result in a new facility for people experiencing homelessness.

As that work proceeds, Grace Church will continue to be involved with representation on the steering committee and shepherding the process. It will undoubtedly take several years to reach completion and as we have watched the progress of the proposed Salvation Army redevelopment, we know that it will take a great deal of effort, political will, and careful listening.

With the new museum project and the potential shelter move, we will have to engage in simultaneous conversations about the future of our physical plant, especially the west wing, and how our ministry and mission might adapt to the changing needs of our neighborhood, and the changing built environment. As I have said many times over the years, the questions driving our conversations should begin with our careful attention to the movement of the Holy Spirit, and our faithfulness to Jesus’ call to us to share the good news. How can we be a blessing to our neighborhood, and how can our buildings be an agent of the church’s mission to reconcile humans with God?

I want to close with a story; it’s one I told the vestry a couple of months ago but I hope it will get you thinking as well. Corrie and I are ballroom dancers, and the demographics of ballroom dancing are pretty much like the demographics of the Episcopal Church; the vast majority of people at ballroom dances are over 50; except that is, for the young couples learning their wedding dance (sound familiar?). This summer, we decided to try something new—salsa and we went to a venue downtown that has an hour-long bachata or salsa lesson followed by live music. The demographics there were quite different—of the 100 or so who usually attend, no more than a handful were over 50, and in the group classes the same teacher offers at a studio, the difference is even more stark. We were usually more than 20 years older than anyone else in the room. But it’s not just about learning moves; the teacher has created community, making use of social media. They have regular social gatherings, they become friends and hang out together. My point is not that we need to start salsa classes or a jazz mass; my point is that community is being created in completely new ways now and often outside of traditional institutions like the church.

We have to take risks; we have to experiment; we have to continue to ask new questions and explore new approaches as we seek to deepen our relationships with each other and make connections with our neighbors who work and live in downtown Madison. In the last ten years, we have done that time and again, and while sometimes our efforts have faltered, we have also seen new life. My prayer for us as a congregation is that as we continue to discern God’s call, we have the courage to experiment, to take risks and to follow Jesus into the heart of the city, and into the heart of his love.

 

 

Rejoice in the Lord–In spite of it all: A Sermon for Proper 23, Year A, 2017

It’s all so overwhelming, isn’t it? I don’t know about you, but I’ve had to limit my exposure to the news and to social media. I started that practice last fall, but over the last few weeks, I’ve noticed that my avoidance of the news has become even more pronounced. The hurricanes, the ongoing humanitarian disaster in Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands, the wildfires in Northern California, the mass shooting in Las Vegas, and the blathering of politicians about these things. When I do turn to the news or my facebook or twitter feed, I feel my blood pressure, anxiety, fear, anger, and sadness mount second by second. And traditional distractions like NFL football no longer provide a respite. It’s not just the rancor over the anthem protests. I can’t watch human beings do things to each other that cause the brain damage we know will result.

As I said, it’s overwhelming. It’s easy to lose hope. And I know that on top of all of this, a number of you have shared with me personal situations that are overwhelming, of great concern. We wonder about our personal futures, the future of the nation, the future of the planet. We aren’t sure whether our faith in God can sustain us through these dark times, and we doubt whether my words, or our coming together in worship can drive away our doubts and fears, even for an hour on Sunday morning.

I’m with you in all of this. I share your fears, your doubts, the emotional roller coaster we all seem to be on these days, although on this ride, there seem to be no highs, only a series of breathtaking descents that never seem to end.

This week I had a couple of experiences that gave me new insight into where I’m at and reminded me that in spite of everything, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, God is present with us and our faith in God can sustain us and give us hope.

The first was yesterday—diocesan convention. Now, I’ll make a confession to you. There is nowhere I would less likely choose to spend an October Saturday than in diocesan convention. This year’s promised to be particularly boring, little more than an exercise in going through the motions of taking counsel with lay people and clergy throughout the diocese. But something happened. It may have been the opening Eucharist—transformed by lovely and moving music. It may have been the stories that were shared of God at work in ministries and people across the diocese, and through us across the world, in the Diocese of Newala in Tanzania, and the Haiti Project. It may have been conversations I had with others around our table or across the convention hall. Whatever it was, and it was likely a combination of these things, I came away inspired and full of hope.

The other, even more dramatic experience came as I attended the ribbon cutting for the Beacon, Madison’s new daytime resource center on E. Wash. I had the opportunity to tour the facility a few weeks ago and was overwhelmed by the care that had been taken in design and buildout. It’s an amazing facility, attractive, inviting. It will provide basic services like laundry and showers but will also provide space for a whole range of services that will help homeless people improve their lives. I’m looking forward to spending Tuesday afternoon there, to see first hand, on the second day of its operation, how it’s going, and in my own small way to offer pastoral care to those who might be interested.

But as I listened to the speakers at the ribbon cutting, and looked around the room, I thought back to the long, difficult, and frustrating process that had concluded successfully. I had first mentioned the need for such a facility in a sermon almost exactly six years ago, and for several years, I was actively involved in efforts to make this dream a reality—only to give up in exhaustion and frustration several years ago when efforts to find a suitable location collapsed.

It’s been a lesson to me that God continues to work, even when I lose hope, strength, and give up. It’s also been a lesson that our wildest dreams can become reality, that in the midst of difficult and despairing situations, it’s ok to continue to hope.

Paul is writing the letter to the Philippians from a prison cell. He’s in a difficult situation, facing an uncertain future but even so he writes a letter that is full of hope. He expresses his deep affection for this congregation; he is full of encouragement. And the last words of our reading seem to elevate us to another level—away from the mundane concerns of our lives and world to the presence of God where we can be at peace.

But he doesn’t begin there. Even as he writes these words of encouragement, even as he appeals to his readers to stand firm, to rejoice, he takes time to mention a conflict in the midst of the community—Euodia and Syntoche seem to be at odds over something and he urges the whole community to work on resolving the conflict and making peace between the two.

Paul writes these words at a time of difficult in his own life, and in a time of difficulty for the congregation to whom he is writing. In that context, these words, “Rejoice in the Lord always, again, I say rejoice.” We may think that Paul means this for us as individuals but he is writing to a community, not to individuals. The verbs here are in the plural, not the singular. Joy is incomplete unless it is shared. Perhaps joy only reaches its fullness when it is shared. But joy is not the point of it; it’s not the reason we gather to worship, joy is a sign of the presence of the risen Christ among us. Joy is comes from our experience of the risen Christ.

And it’s not just worship. We have so much for which we should rejoice, so many signs of the risen Christ among us—we will be blessing and commissioning to of our members as the depart on a mission trip to Haiti. Next week, we will dedicate a Little Free Library, the Creating More Just Community is moving forward with plans to engage our neighbors in the legislature. We are blessed with children running joyfully through Vilas Hall during coffee hour, and there’s so much more.

So I encourage you in these dark times, to look for signs of God at work, to look for signs of the presence of the risen Christ in the world around us and in your lives. Paul said it so much better than I ever could:

Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.