Sermon for Sunday, November 7, 2010: Come and See Service at 4PM

Parishioner: Marilyn Lindell

I suspect that many lapsed church-goers resume attendance because of some major life event, and often the event is not a happy one such as marriage or the birth of a child. Such was the case for me. One event motivated me to join the church, and another -- a far more devastating event -- forever cemented my relationship with St. Philip’s.

In 1986 I was separated from my first husband, Don Smith, and I assumed that divorce was inevitable. Feelings of sadness, anger, and helplessness about the situation prevailed. During the five years I’d lived in Tucson I’d driven by St. Philip’s many times, but I had never quite gotten around to going inside. One week day, as I saw the church on my way to or from a work-related home visit, I decided there was no time like the present one to satisfy my curiosity about the place and spend a few moments in quiet contemplation. I walked into the empty church, sat in a west side pew, and felt a unique peace. I knew I was home.

Now, I will admit that I am a person who responds strongly to awe-inspiring architectural beauty. At that moment I didn’t know anything about the preaching or the music or the clergy or the parishioners, but it never occurred to me that I’d be disappointed. And I wasn’t. The first Sunday I attended was shortly before Easter, and my first St. Philip’s Easter was a Sunrise service.

Much to my surprise and joy, the divorce from Don never happened. We reconciled and our marriage developed a new strength and depth. However, during the separation Don had started not only attending but also singing in the choir of Catalina United Methodist Church. This macho retired Air Force fighter pilot amazed even himself with his participation, but he admitted to being a frustrated singer/performer so it really worked for him. More importantly, he had made some wonderful friendships and found both the choir director and minister to be warm, welcoming, and inspirational leaders. Meanwhile, I had taken what I called my “Episcopal classes”, had been confirmed, and had become involved in ushering. As a result, Don and I seldom attended services together, but we appreciated what we each had gained from our respective church membership so separate attendance was not a problem.

About 14 months after we were back together we had a wonderful trip to London and Paris. Two and a half months later and hours after returning from a business trip, Don died at home of a sudden, massive heart attack. My world was turned upside down and sideways. It must have been about 10 PM by the time I returned from the hospital and finished all the essential immediate phone calls to family and close friends. Then I called Roger Douglas, the rector of St. Philip’s at that time. He lived in my neighborhood and was at the door – in collar – almost immediately. As well as spiritual comfort, he offered me very practical advice about such things as dealing with the funeral home (“Don’t go to them; make them come to you. That way you’ll be in control and you won’t end up buying things out of guilt”, etc). (Very sound advice, actually). The funeral was the following Saturday, the church was packed, and all four of the staff priests insisted on serving. Much of that day has always been a blur, but I remember that a group with which I wasn’t even familiar – the Church Mice – put everything together for a wonderful reception in the Gallery. I was held up in my grief, supported and encouraged on all sides. Many, many times I’ve wondered how much worse that whole awful experience would have been without my church family – of which I’d been a member only a little over two years.

Although I was already busy with a full-time job as a research nurse at the U of A and as the Commanding Officer of my Naval Reserve unit, there was, of course, a huge void in my life. And what entity was right there to fill that void? St. Philip’s, of course! Soon I was co-chairing the Outreach Committee and making sandwiches for Casa Maria. I was elected to the Vestry. Membership on the Episcopal Inter-parish Council followed, and I became an usher team captain. I also enjoyed a wonderful women’s group initiated by the Reverend Becky Holmes, the first female priest at St. Philip’s and only the first or second in all of Tucson.

Over and over I’d look around and consider what an amazing place I’d been led to in 1986. My geographical place of origin – the San Francisco Bay Area – and the church in which I’d been raised – the Congregational or United Church of Christ or UCC – had predisposed me to have somewhat of a progressive bent, I suppose. I admired Roger for having hired Becky Holmes – although my little UCC heart didn’t really understand how this was revolutionary, exactly, since the Congregational Church has ordained women since 1853. Roger also directed a parish-wide plunge into a series of dialogs -- in the 80’s, mind you -- which discussed/debated such things as the ordination of women, inclusive language, same-sex unions, and the ordination of gay and lesbian clergy. Of course, this resulted in some people leaving the church in anger, but Roger had the courage to start the conversation and let the chips fall however they might.

Since my introduction to St. Philip’s I’ve never stopped attending church or taken a “vacation” from it – even briefly. My motivation is certainly not guilt-related since the idea of a “holy day of obligation” has never formed in my brain. Maybe I’m just afraid I might miss something especially good if I were to skip a Sunday! My church-related activities have modified with time, and I have the joy of sharing my commitment to this parish with Tom, my exemplary husband since 2000. Last summer I started duties as a chalicist, and serving the Communion wine to Tom moved me more than I can describe. Assisting him with this Come and See service has also been amazingly meaningful and I think has brought us even closer together. Serving on two Discernment Committees and two Vestry Search Committees has given me the privilege of an up-close-and-personal view of many fellow parishioners and brought me closer to them, too. I continue to usher but just at funerals, and this is a surprisingly satisfying activity. And, I must admit, I really, really enjoy counting money approximately every third Monday morning as a St. Matthew’s Guild member – with post-Christmas and post-Easter being especially stimulating!

So – what do I think St. Philip’s offers all of us? I suppose it could best be described as a way to make a positive, decisive impact on at least a part of our society and world in a way that we could not if we were to work alone. As a group we can decide what we value and how we can best manifest the love of God and Christ. I would not for a minute suggest that all of us at St. Philip’s are of one mind about what issues are most pressing or how they are best solved. I would assert, however, that most of us here at this church are willing to pry open our minds – at least occasionally even if perhaps tentatively – and consider how it feels to walk in somebody else’s shoes and bear their burdens. John, our rector since 2001, has continued the St. Philip’s tradition of spiritual exploration and innovative worship; he has maintained an atmosphere that encourages new ways of thinking and fosters creative solutions -- including to such issues as our current financial challenges that deeply affect our mission as a Christian congregation.

Several years ago I thought of how I would go about choosing a church community if I were new in a town, and I’ve decided to call this Bumper Sticker Discernment or BSD. I would drive around church parking lots during services and check out the bumper stickers. Only if I were in synch with the prevailing messages would I take the next step. One of my favorite bumper stickers says something like “God Loves Everybody. No Exceptions”. To me, since that Spring day in 1986, this has always been the message I’ve received from St. Philip’s.

Tom and I consistently put St. Philip’s toward the top of the pile when we budget our monthly expenses and allocate our time and energy. What wonderful things can YOUR gifts of time, talent, and treasure make possible? Please know that your generosity is and always will be appreciated. I thank you for your past support that has benefited the work of this unique church, and, for the future, I urge you to consider the value of St. Philip’s in your life, in the lives of those you love, and in this community.

Amen!