Pastoral Reflection at the Rededication Worship for Saugatuck Congregational Church, UCC
©Rev. Alison J. Buttrick Patton
March 8, 2015
“Celebrate all the good things the Lord your God has done for you.”
“You are here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world.”
“Christ is building you into a dwelling place for God.”
Oil the hinges of our hearts’ doors, that they may swing easily open to welcome you.
There they stood on the sandy banks of the Jordan River – the river they’d just crossed over after years of wandering in the wilderness. Wilderness dust still clung to their feet and ankles; their eyes were wide as they surveyed the beauty before them. “This is it,” thought the Israelites. “THIS is the land that flows with milk and honey, the land we’ve been dreaming about all these years, the home for which we have yearned with our whole hearts…”
It had taken them 40 years to get there, 40 years of wandering, struggle and strife, faith and doubt. And what’s the first thing they did? After they rubbed their eyes in wonder? After they pinched themselves and hugged whomever was close at hand? After they wept or laughed or erupted in cheers or danced like mad on that riverbank? The first thing they did, the first thing they were told to do: was to grab a basket, and fill it with all manner of good things – their first fruits – the produce of this new land – and take it to the temple. There, they were to proclaim these words in public: “My father was a starving Aramean. Our ancestors settled in Egypt, but we suffered terribly at the hands of Pharaoh. Then God heard our cries: God freed us from bondage and led us to this new place. GOD did this! God has been faithful, every step of the way.”
Now here WE stand, on the threshold of a new day, wooden floors built by our ancestors, richly restored and solid beneath our feet. Here we stand after three years of waiting, working and worshipping all around Westport. The dust of the journey still clings to our feet; and our own eyes are wide with wonder, as we rediscover this spiritual home for which so many hearts have yearned. There are details yet to complete. Our settling in will no doubt, take time. But first things first: On this day, we pause to remember and give thanks – to all of you, and to the Holy One who led us to this moment, this place. We look back long enough to remember the pain and also the promise. We marvel at the long list of faithful, generous-hearted folks who have accompanied us along the way! We look at what we’ve lost, and also what we’ve gained: a basket full of blessings: hope born of struggle and insight born of living our lives at a different angle. What new perspectives would we have missed, had we remained within the walls of this beloved Saugatuck Church?
We did not ask for it, and those who stood on the lawn, that night and on the days that followed, those who witnessed the raging fire, and the charred remains, know firsthand how heart-wrenching it is to be displaced, in the blink of an eye, to lose a home that has meant so much to so many, to lose a building, and with it, the capacity to extend hospitality; to become a perpetual guest, when we have so often been the host.
No, we did not ask for that. But even as the smoke dissipated, a Saugatuck member offered up this prayer: That our grief might deepen our compassion for others who suffer, might help us to see them more clearly.
I was interviewing for this position at the time, just coming to understand how the fire had impacted this community, and that prayer pulled me up short: honest and courageous, prayed as it was just weeks after the blaze, when Saugatuck’s loss was still fresh and tender to touch. It reminded me, and everyone around that table, that though we have known trial by fire, we are neither the first, nor the last. Other fires rage with even greater destructive force – literal fires that fragment families and sometimes whole communities, the fires that flare up during war and unrest; and the slower burning fires of injustice, poverty and despair.
So, this is among our first fruits: the discovery (or perhaps the rediscovery) that loss has a way of expanding our view, if we let it, of pulling back the curtain to show us that hardship connects us with the whole human race, reminds us that we ought to look after each other, that we are called to be a force for good in the world. “Be kind, for everyone is fighting a great battle.” (said the Scottish author Ian McLaren). And “Do not oppress the alien, the sojourner,” God commanded the Israelites, “for you know the heart of the sojourner.” (Exodus 23:9). In other words: welcome others, because you know what it’s like to need a gracious welcome.
Here’s something else we’ve seen more clearly, from the vantage point of a Church without Walls: the value of shared ministry; the amazing things we can do together, that are so much better, more interesting, and more impactful than if we did them alone. From community feasts to shared worship; from film discussions at the library to food drives at Thanksgiving; from joint tea parties to joint work projects: Together, we’ve been learning, growing, transforming lives. On the one hand, this is nothing new: Saugatuck Church is grateful to have grown up here, in the heart of Westport, where we’ve collaborated with the Town of Westport, Homes with Hope, the library, the YMCA and so many faith communities, for decades. These last three years just serve to reinforce the power and potential of our partnerships.
This is our basket of blessings, piled high! We offer it up today, publicly proclaiming: “Our mothers and fathers were wandering colonists. Our ancestors settled along the Saugatuck River. Here we built our church; and here we flourished for over 175 years. In 2011, we suffered a devastating fire. But God heard our cries: God led us to this new place, sent us companions for the journey and sustained us along the way. GOD did this! Thanks be to God.”
Today, finally, we get to celebrate all these good things; today, we turn again from being guest to being host. We throw wide our doors and say, “Come in!” Here’s what I hope you will find when you enter Saugatuck Church: an exuberant welcome and an open spirit. I hope you’ll feel honored just as you are, curious or skeptical, grieving or joyful, strong or struggling. Whatever your own faith tradition, I hope you will find here partners for your journey. In short, I hope that we have managed to build a home for God’s Spirit. Not the only home, not even God’s primary place of residence. God’s spirit blows where it chooses, and might just as well show up at your kitchen table, or at the bus stop or even in the board room. But I do hope – indeed trust – that God will choose to dwell here, among us and in us, as God has done all along.
You’ll know it to be so, if you meet several Saugatuck members headed out the door even as you walk in. For as one Saugatuck member recently remarked, “We built the doors to keep the building warm, but not to keep us inside.” Our building was saved from fire, but our hearts, they still burn: with gratitude, and hope and an urge to live and serve others as God first loved us. That’s the second thing – after we look around us in wonder; after we weep and laugh and erupt in cheers; after we grab that basket, pile it high and declare our thanks: After all that comes living as God’s people, ever becoming God’s dwelling place. Maybe you will join us – I hope you will: here, within these new-old walls – where we ask our most pressing questions, find comfort and challenge, give thanks and praise; and on the other side of those doors, where the real work begins: extinguishing the fires of injustice, caring for one another, and being a force for good in the world. May our lights so shine.
Amen!