A pastor walks into a church (again)

A couple of Sundays ago (Feb 26) I worshipped with the folks at St. Mary's Episcopal Church, over by Lake Otis and Tudor Road. This was my second intentional visit to a non-Lutheran church in Anchorage. I was excited to be in church that Sunday. We'd just returned from New Zealand (the night before!) and I was ready to worship and mark the transition into Lent.

Erik chose to rest up before going back to work the next day, so I went solo to the 11:30 am service. I felt less anxious about walking into this church alone, for a couple of reasons. One was that I know the pastors at St. Mary's and one of them knew I was coming. I've been to St. Mary's before, so I knew the layout of the building. The welcome was friendly but gentle. A couple of people said hello but no one was overly friendly (which I prefer).

There was an adult forum before the service that ran late so we started a bit late, too. There was a band playing hymns in the corner but with guitar and drums, up-tempo. I recognized the music, which made me feel at home. Then, the pastors found me and gave me handshakes and hugs (Michael Burke, Ted Cole and Sara Gavit).

The congregation gathered that day was a mix of ages. Several gray heads but a few families with school-aged children too. It seemed like there was a diversity of socio-economic stratas but little ethnic/racial diversity (like a lot of mainline churches I know!)

The songs were mostly familiar and I didn't mind that they were played on guitar instead of organ/piano. The priests were vested and the acolytes and crucifers were middle school kids with sneakers and robes. I never thought I cared either way about robes (aka albs) but my tradition uses them and I felt myself relaxing inside when I saw the host arrayed in white descend the aisle.

St. Mary's uses a liturgy, like we do at Central, and it wasn't too difficult to juggle the hymnbook, the Book of Common Prayer (where the liturgy was) and my bulletin, though I think it was easier because: A.) I'm from a liturgical tradition B.) I wasn't also juggling a small child. I wonder if St. Mary's has thought of using one bulletin or project to cut down on the multiple books.

Nonetheless, the liturgy was comfortable and familiar to me. I remember a seminary professor joking that Lutherans have theology and Episcopalians have a Rite (and good scotch) but I know deep down the comfort that a liturgy brings and I felt at home at St. Mary's. And after all, we are in full communion.

The sermon, given by lead rector Michael Burke, was the highlight of the service for me. He didn't preach much on the text, which was a little disappointing for me, since I hadn't been to worship in a few weeks. But I was taken by his conversational style and the later content of the sermon.

Michale started with a joke about a guy in a bar who drank three beers. I'm not going to tell it now because I may want to use it in a sermon later. Anyway, it reminded me of an Episcopalian joke: Wherever four or more are gathered, there's always a fifth. I digress. The joke was funny and it led into comments about the meaning of Lent and how we mark the season.

Michael explained that people in his parish come from many backgrounds and mark Lent in different ways. He said there wasn't one right way to do it, but it is an important time and spiritual disciplines are important. He said his recent spiritual practice has been working on the One Anchorage campaign. This is an effort by numerous clergy and lay leaders to ask the assembly to put a non-discrimination policy for gays/lesbians in Anchorage's housing/hiring policies. It's become Prop 5, on the ballot April 3. It's been an on-going hot issue in our city after the Assembly voted for it and the mayor gave it a veto.

I knew the background and knew where Michael stood and agreed with him. However, I'm sensitive to pastors talking about very specific politics/candidates/propositions from the pulpit. I try not to do it. It doesn't seem right. I can't tell people how to vote. I won't.

So, I was all ears and quite tense, wondering what else Michael would say.

What he did was confess. He said that he apologized, on behalf of himself and the church, for all the ways he has ignored or made too little of the challenges and discrimination faced by gays and lesbians. He confessed, to those who are gay and lesbian and to those who have gay and lesbian friends or children. It was powerful and it was beautiful. And he didn't tell us how to vote, only about his own work on this and the spiritual connection.

Then he acknowledged that some may not agree with his work on this issue. He said: "You don't have to agree with everything your pastor says. I might be wrong. But I might be right."

Wow.

Then he told about a coffee he'd shared with a man who is the head of a conservative Christian group in town. I knew the name; we share a mutual friend. I was deeply humbled by Michael's description of this coffee time. He and the man discussed the issue, shared their beliefs, prayed together and learned they had some things in common. They did not change their beliefs, but indeed the encounter did change them.

Wow.

I wish that every politician who works on controversial issues would take Michael's example. We as a culture and I'll blame politicians especially, don't take time to listen and really hear the other side. We vilify and we de-humanize. The church can be the place where we learn to talk about our differences and recognize our common humanity. Imagine, the church leading us into a more civilized and loving world. It could really happen.

The service continued with prayers, communion, announcements and blessings. I was greeted again by the clergy on the way out and spoke with a few people that I recognized. Before I left, Michael gave me this "goody bag" for visitors. There were many brochures with helpful topics like Episcopal terms defined and information on local ministries and services. There was also some candy; food is the universal language.

I was deeply grateful for the experience I had at St. Mary's. I felt comfortable and challenged, in ways that resonated with me. I also felt hopeful for the way God moves in the world and the way God's followers can and do make a difference.