One of the gifts of being Canon to the Ordinary is the 30,000 ft. view of the Diocese I get regularly. Because I work with people from around the diocese, and travel to congregations around the diocese, I get to see more of what goes on than the average clergy or layperson in an individual faith community. The Bishop gets this type of view as well, but there is usually more pomp and circumstance when she is present than when I am present. I believe canons to the ordinary get to see more of the regular day-to-day (or Sunday-to-Sunday, as it were) than bishops do.
One example of this that has continued to stick with me is a visit I made to St. Thomas, Somerville nearly a year ago. St. Thomas is one of our smallest congregations, and they do not have full-time clergy. Deacon Drew Woodruff is with them twice a month on Sundays, but otherwise they are a completely lay-led community, and their ministry is vibrant. That particular Sunday began with me standing out front observing the bees humming around their lovely flowerbeds as people made their way into the nave. I greeted a neighbor walking up to their Blessing Box, a small food pantry in their front yard. It is similar to a “Little Free Library,” but it contains non-perishable food items for anyone to take. The neighbor asked a question that I could not answer, and St. Thomas’s then senior warden Nancy Boatwright stepped right in to help. Turns out this was a new neighbor who got to take some food and got a standing invitation to church. My morning started off with both outreach and evangelism!
As worship began, their pianist played with such fervor that I kept waiting for the piano to catch fire. His playing is really that good! The people of St. Thomas participated heartily in singing and responding, and it made the service lively.
After that lovely worship service, I was invited to come share in a regular light potluck luncheon in their tiny parish hall. The food and the conversation were wonderful. Before I realized what was happening, a man stood up and announced it was time for Sunday School. He read from a devotional book he enjoys and then talked about what that devotion meant to him in very personal terms. Soon, everyone in the room was sharing in equally intimate ways the joys and struggles of their own lives. They asked good questions of the leader, me, and each other. There was some prayer, and we concluded.
I could tell you similar stories about all of the congregations I visit, and about the gospel-centered ministry everyone around the diocese is doing in their own settings. I share this story because I found myself surprised that morning by the varied combination of what I saw this small group of Christians doing on that particular day. I was witness to outreach, evangelism, worship, formation, prayer, and community building in a way that was clearly making a difference for the people who were participating in it, as well as for the people outside the doors. It’s not that they were doing anything that was revolutionary or earth-shattering, but it was authentically St. Thomas. Simple conversation with neighbors, and an offer of some hospitality and support. Simple worship with confident participation. A simple shared meal and a simple, but open and vulnerable lesson.
On that morning, and on many other mornings in different congregations across our diocese, I am reminded that God is (to borrow a phrase from the essayist Anne Fadiman) both “at large and at small.” Our ministries need not be huge and audacious to be impactful. My prayer is that on any given Sunday people in our congregations and
