Annual Address by The Rev'd Nicholas Lang

St. Paul’s on the Green, Norwalk, Connecticut

Given on the Patronal Feast of the Parish, the Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul(transferred) – January 27, 2008

 

A sweet elderly lady telephoned St. Joseph 's Hospital and timidly asked, "Is it possible to speak to someone who can tell me how a patient is doing?" The operator said, "I'll be glad to help, dear. What's the name and room number?" In her weak, tremulous voice she said, "Norma Findlay, Room 302." The operator replied, "Let me place you on hold while I check with her nurse." After a few minutes, the operator returned to the phone and said, "Oh, I have good news. Her nurse just told me that Norma is doing very well. Her blood pressure is fine; her blood work just came back as normal, and her physician has scheduled her to be discharged on Tuesday." The lady said, "Thank you. That's wonderful! I was so worried! God bless you for the good news." The operator replied, "You're more than welcome. Is Norma your daughter?” The elderly lady said, "No, I'm Norma Findlay in 302. No one tells me anything!!!!"

 

None of us likes to be kept in the dark about the important things in life. Open, honest communication promotes healthy relationships—between health care providers and their patients, between spouses, between friends, between the rector and the congregation. We celebrate the annual festival of our parish name day this morning. We will also fulfill the canonical requirement of electing the vestry. I will be sharing information about the state of the parish and our life and mission as a community. During the brunch, members of the vestry and the staff will engage us in table conversation.

 

2007 was, in many ways, an incredible year with a number of significant and historical accomplishments in the forefront: the installation of the rebuilt Skinner-Reuter Organ with the addition of Trumpette en chamade; the major exterior face lift to the church building and tower—a massive undertaking; and the two week tour of the great cathedrals of England made by our splendid choristers and adult schola in July—the first in the history of this parish. Fiscally, we ended the year in the black and with a bit of a surplus. It will be difficult to surpass that kind of a year any time soon.

 

However, there is another side to the story of accomplishments. In last year’s Annual Address, I asked us to look at 2007 as a “Year of Exploration” of the ways we might expand our mission in terms of outreach beyond the confines of the parish. Two noteworthy examples of how we did that are the Liberian Project that sent ten barrels of clothing for children and adults to a far away land where the infrastructure is so damaged there is nothing left to buy and “Doing Christmas Differently,” the initiative of a parish member that inspired a number of us to rethink Christmas gift buying and support the Norwalk Women’s Shelter for Domestic Violence, an exploration that brought that residents there more than $5,000 for clothing, gifts and food—not just at Christmas but through this new year.

 

Two weeks ago, we came together for what was a significant event both in my life and in the life of this community—the celebration of the 35th anniversary of my ordination as priest. One of the things that stood out for me in the program presented during the reception was how very, very far this church has come in the last several years. I think it may be worth sharing some of this with you because there are many of you who arrived when things looked as they do today—grand music, a huge choir, a multi-member staff, a full church, the obvious presence of children, a radically welcoming community.

 

‘Twas not always thus. When I arrived here fifteen years ago, St. Paul’s was a church that had experienced a serious decline in its membership and resources. There are more people this morning in the chancel alone then there were in the entire church on most Sundays. There was a time when I was the only staff with the help of a very part-time organist. It was a difficult time for a congregation that had been through a lot of turmoil for too long and a sad time for the faithful ones who were steadfast in their commitment and continued to worship here and work to bring about a time of renaissance that they hoped would one day appear.

 

I tell you this because we cannot, we must not take what we have here for granted. It has taken a great deal of work, of prayer, of faithfulness, of intentional hospitality, and of openness to change to create the kind of congregation we are today. Today is a day when those of us who have been here for decades and those of us who have been here for months can be extremely grateful and proud of what St. Paul’s means in this community. One of our state senators has described us as the spiritual leader of the city of Norwalk.

 

Indeed we have taken a leadership role in so many ways. We have been so very clear in all that we say and do that we are a church that honors every individual who walks through our doors and guarantees their right to be the glorious creation of God who made them who they are. In the words of the rector of another such icon of leadership, The Reverend Bill Tully of St. Bart’s in New York City: “We are a people with ideas. Our notion of being a faithful church is that we don't just sit here. We are not defined by maintenance. We're not passive guardians of an obvious and elegant legacy. We're here to listen to God, to make it possible to bring people into a place where they, too, can listen. We're here to extend ourselves to others, not to sit on what we've got.” I suspect that many of you are here because we are that kind of church.

 

The event in the life of St. Paul we celebrate today—his conversion from persecutor and oppressor to preacher and evangelizer—is one of utter transformation. The Scripture gives us the details. He is literally knocked off his high horse. He has been taking his life in the wrong direction. The encounter gets his attention and he listens. It leaves him a different person and nothing will ever be the same for him again. This is such an appropriate story for the parish community that bears Paul’s name for if we are about anything, we are about discovering the amazing grace of life transformation. And we are here—for those not yet here—as the witnesses to how that grace can change lives, has changed our lives and how much we want to offer that experience to so many others.

 

I hope that like Norma Findley, you are eager to learn something about the life, the struggles, and the health of the parish. First and foremost, we continue to grow this congregation and to be the brilliant beacon of radical welcome in a world that sorely needs that blessing. More than 60 new people came to us in 2007 and have settled in to one extent or another. We don't have a week go by when we don't see at least 2or3 guests— sometimes more—and we continue to be hear of folks entering the Sunday morning worship experience, having discovered Compline as an initial point of entry. Our proclamation of radical inclusion permeates everything we do here and we are committed to continue it.

 

What this means for us in 2008 is a year of both opportunity and challenge. Perhaps the paramount opportunity is that there are many, many people seeking the kind of community we are; many, many souls who have been discouraged, disenfranchised, marginalized, even abused by or in the name of religion. By God’s grace, they will continue to find their way here, and, when they do, find their way home.

 

A corresponding and big challenge for us is two-fold: one is the myth that some folks seem to have that we are a church with lots of money. The visual of our grand buildings, property, exquisite worship, among other things promotes this faulty thinking. The truth is that we have almost no financial cushion in the bank. Unlike many churches in Fairfield County and beyond, we have absolutely no endowment. We must rely on the radically generous giving of this community.

 

We are also committed to do everything we do with excellence. Excellence, however, does not come cheap. The budget the vestry has approved for this year is $686,000. About half of this is in salaries and that should come as no surprise. Without people, without a staff, nothing you experience here at St. Paul’s would happen. It is the dedication and commitment of our staff that is largely responsible for all facets of our ministry. A critical piece of information is that we have not yet met our goal of $430,000 in pledges for 2008. We stand at about $392,000 as I speak. Yes, we also expect additional funds in the form of special offerings, rental fees, and contributions to the music program, but this still may leave us with a possible gap of about $65,000 and the vestry will need to wrestle with the implications of that early this year. It will be an exercise in the art and ability of being wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Beginning next Sunday, copies of this year’s budget and last year’s financial report will be available and on February 10, our wardens and treasurer will hold a Q & A session for anyone interested. Details will follow in our various communication mediums.

 

I want to acknowledge that the present financial climate may challenge many of us. The “R” word is being used much more freely by those in the financial arena. We cannot ignore the effect this will have on everyone’s life. Part of the wonderful diversity of this community is that, unlike most Fairfield County Churches, we have a marvelous blend of people from all walks of life—some who will fare well during this troublesome time and some who will not. Indeed, there are members of the community who have come on hard times already, in any number of ways, including the loss of employment. Know that St. Paul’s will be here for anyone who may face such life crises, offering support and hope. We are a solid and caring community and that blessing is here for all.

 

Another challenge comes in the need for more space for programs and, especially for our children and youth programs and our ever-growing music program (note the proud, nine new probationers in the chorister ranks this morning.) There has been some preliminary conversation about reclaiming what was the education building for this parish years ago, now rented by “The Clay Place,” an organization that works with those who are emotionally challenged as well as with the general population. An additional concern is that the gentleman who directs the program is way up in years, not in the best of health and there is no successor in the wings to take his place. The upshot of this is that we could find ourselves with the unexpected availability of this space at any time—yes, an opportunity to expand—but this rental now generates $48,000 a year in income for us. Whoa! It will be a huge challenge to fill that gap and bring the building up to code for our use. I would be overwhelmed by all of this if I could not look back at the previous five years and behold all that we have accomplished together.

 

For me, this year offers a unique opportunity in the form of a sabbatical—my very first ever. Clergy sabbaticals have three components: academic, spiritual, and personal. My academic work will include continuing education units required to support my licensure and accreditation as a professional counselor. The spiritual facet will happen in the seven parishes with which I will work offering them our experience about how to do church differently, develop a culture of radical welcome, and grow their communities for the sake of the Gospel. I will spend a full weekend in each of the parishes. Finally, the personal component, time for rest, leisure, and refreshment. The challenge in this will be staying away from St. Paul’s during that time and missing what is going on here, not the least of which will be the exquisite worship and music that has been my liturgical diet. My Sabbath time will begin on March 31 and continue through the end of June. It will be a good for all of us and will confirm for this community how vibrant and strong it has become as well as how competent a staff we have in place. Our Associate Rector, Mother Donna, will oversee all aspects of ministry in my absence.

 

I believe that we have only scratched the surface of possibilities and opportunities for enriching our lives and welcoming others into what is a truly amazing and life-giving community. No, we are not perfect. We have our shortcomings and our challenges but I would venture to say that one would have to search far and wide to find another St. Paul’s on the Green. Some of you know that all too well, because you have looked into other church options. We are, indeed, so richly blessed!

 

At the celebration of my 35th anniversary on January 12, one of our resident divas serenaded us with a love song called My House by Leonard Bernstein. Listen to the lyrics: Will you build me a house? A house that really will be mine? Then let me give you my design. A simple scheme of the house I dream of. Build my house of wood. Build my house of stone. Build my house of brick and mortar; Make the ceiling strong, strong against the storm, shelter when the days grow shorter; But build my house of love, and paint my house with trusting, and warm it with the warmth of your heart; Make the floor of faith, Make the walls of truth, Put a roof of peace above; Only build my house of love.

 

This is a magnificent edifice. The architects and craftsmen knew what they were doing when they built this church. But it is only a building—albeit a splendid work of wood and stone and brick and mortar— unless we, the people who call it our home, make it a community of love, of faith, of truth, and of peace. My dream is that we will continue to build and build and build that kind of all embracing place, a strong shelter during the storms of our lives, a haven of radical welcome and hospitality where there are no strangers, and where we witness, again and again, surprising and marvelous manifestations of God’s grace and abundance in our midst. The Spirit is still speaking to us. God is not finished with us yet. Each of can and does make a difference in this community. If we all claim the dream as our own, and work together to advance it, there is much, much more to come.