“Church” means very different things to everyone. To some, it is merely a
building. For some, it bears the name “home” or “family”. It can be the
support that holds them together at times. It can be a place of great joy
or great struggle. It can be a spot for quiet and meditation. It can be a
place of peace. Church fulfills something in all of us that makes us
whole. What we find in the holiness and spirituality of church provides us
with a certain element we seek. The meaning of this gathering is particular
and unique to each individual, yet runs as a common fiber through each of
us. Perhaps this is why church is so significant.
Being
a part of a church family has given me so much. I have seen the importance
of the support and friendship as well as the importance of a close
relationship with God. St. Luke’s has shown me what an imperative role a
church plays throughout life. To me, St. Luke’s epitomizes a “proper”
Church. It just fits.
While being a
part of St. Luke’s family, I have come to receive many blessings. I have
had the opportunity to accomplish many of my life experiences thus far. I
have been fortunate enough to be an active part of many facets of the
church, Diocese and global community. In August of 2001, I left for a
ten-month voluntary “Mission” through the Evangelical Lutheran Church in
America with about 10 other Americans and Canadians. All volunteers were to
work a 5-day week, receive room and board free, with a stipend of about $38
per week. I was placed in a Women’s Hostel in North London. It was a
long-term housing establishment for up to 50 women ages 18-35 who were
either working or studying, although some were just trying to get on their
feet. My official title was “Hostel Support Worker”. I acted as a liaison
between residents and hostel staff, a mediator between hostel residents, an
“office administrator”, a counselor, an oven cleaner/shower curtain scum
scrubber, and as always, a token “American”. And on top of that, they even
let me be in charge of the stationery supply closet. Although I thoroughly
enjoyed my time there, it wasn’t necessarily because of what my actual
“work” was. Not that my actual “work” was anything to be jealous of
anyway. My placement had a lot of ups and downs, but in the end I
believe it only led me to acquire more knowledge, as does every experience.
During my time
in London, I struggled with some difficulties. Something that happens with
personal growth, but it’s not easy. I seemed to be getting asked a lot of
questions about faith. Subjects were being questioned in my faith that I
had certainly believed in, but yet seemed to need more substance behind
them. Things like why did I believe in Jesus, or God? How could I even
believe in Him? Why did I recite the prayers I did? Why did I want to go
to church on a perfectly good Sunday morning? These are things we believe
in, of course, but it isn’t until they are questioned that we understand
them. This brings me back to the meaning of a church in someone’s life.
I went to a LOT of churches in England seeking to find what I needed. The
issue of finding a church was stressed throughout our training. And after
arriving at my placement and realizing what I had gotten myself into, I
quickly recognized the importance of the encouragement by our training
leaders. I definitely needed church. So I set out to find the perfect
one. Well, perfect? By that, I mean, one I was comfortable with and wasn’t
too far away. I went to some with mostly young people, and some with mostly
families. I went to one where there were doors on the pews, and one that
used to be a pub. I went to the American Church, Hillsongs and many
others. They just weren’t quite right. It wasn’t like home…
One Sunday
though, I decided to visit Westminster Abbey. Although I woke up thinking
“I don’t want to go to church today. I just want to stay in bed and
sleep”. And isn’t it always those Sundays where you eventually end up going
to church, even though you really don’t want to, and it seems like the
lessons or the sermon was written just for you? As I sat through the
absolutely beautiful service and listened to a fantastic sermon, I knew I
had found what I was looking for, even though I couldn’t really explain what
that was. The service was almost identical to what I had known here, but it
offered something different. It didn’t have the personal atmosphere I was
used to at St. Luke’s. It was mostly tourists every Sunday, with a few
regulars. But that was part of what I needed. Throughout the week, I was
bombarded with all kinds of questions and had all the fellowship that one
person could stand, but what I lacked was peace and quiet. I needed some
place to sit and meditate on God’s Word and his Work in my life and in the
world around me. I felt at peace there, and that was possibly one of the
greatest of God’s Gifts.
Over a ten-month
period, I learned many things. I learned that you should try something for
the sake of trying it. That your best friends come in all kinds of
packages. That sometimes you have to do what you know is right even if it
does rock the boat. That even curry can’t make goat-meat taste good. One
of the most miraculous, however, was how God had this way of putting
fantastic things into my life at the right time. This accompanied another
factor whereby He seemed to introduce adversity into my life as well. Funny
how those things are paired together.
On Christmas
Eve, I left the hostel for a couple days to stay in a hotel in a different
part of the city. As my first Christmas away from home, I realized that I
didn’t want to spend it in a women’s hostel. And although I had many great
friends there, something about it just seemed lonely. I spent over two
week’s stipend for two nights in the tiniest hotel room known to man. I
arrived at my hotel in the evening, set my belongings down and proceeded to
walk a few blocks to find something to eat. I stopped at an ATM and put the
cash in my pocket to pay for dinner. I walked into a restaurant and they
sat me in a corner by the window. People were starting to look rather sorry
for me because of the fact that I was alone on Christmas Eve, but I felt
fine about it, or so I thought.
I took my cell
phone out of my purse and set it on the table, although I wasn’t expecting
any calls. Then I pulled out my book, and set my purse down on the floor
next to my chair. A woman took my order, just as a man came to sit down at
the table next to me. He said he would wait for his girlfriend so the
waitress could take their order together. I politely moved by purse under
my chair, to get it out of his way. He said he didn’t mind, and I went back
to reading my book, engrossed in the story. A few moments later, he bent
down and then stood up and walked out. I thought this was rather strange,
but went back to reading. Not two minutes later, it occurred to me to look
down at my purse. It was gone. I sat there in disbelief for a few seconds
then proceeded to burst into tears. I notified the waitress, who took me
downstairs to some offices where we called the police. I then called home
and told my parents what had happened. No one’s parents would want to
receive a phone call from another country to hear that their daughter was
robbed on Christmas Eve, and not be able to do anything about it.
I called my
friends at the hostel to say that I might need them to let me in later that
night as my keys were in my purse. I couldn’t pay for the hotel room
because it was reserved with my bankcard, which was also in my purse. The
problem was that transportation shuts down in the evening on Christmas Eve.
The only way to travel is by cab, and they double their fares for the day.
I had about $30 dollars in my pocket and I didn’t know what I was going to
do. I had decided I would take a cab as far as I could, just as two of my
friends called to say they would come and pick me up, even though they
really couldn’t spare the money either.
While I was
waiting for the police to come and take the necessary information down, I
decided to make another call to the Swansons. Mr. And Mrs. Tyler and Diane
Swanson had contacted me a few days before Christmas. They and their family
were going to spend Christmas in London and wondered if we could get
together. We had made plans for Christmas day, and I took the address of
their apartment and their temporary phone number. As a stroke of luck, the
Swanson’s were staying in the same borough of London as my hotel.
That night, I
called the Swanson’s and told them that I probably wouldn’t be able to make
it the next day and explained what had happened. Being the incredibly kind
people that they are, they wanted to come to the restaurant. I explained
the best could where it actually was, and to my amazement, their apartment
was on the street behind me. After sitting there in an empty restaurant by
myself seriously considering flying back to New York, I felt so relieved to
see someone who was familiar.
They invited me
to spend Christmas with their family in their apartment. They bought me
presents and Brendan even gave up his bed for me. They let me be a part of
their family at what was the lowest and most difficult part of my year. I
can honestly say it was one of the best Christmases I have ever had. I
didn’t know the Swanson’s very personally before that day, but I can’t say
how thankful I am for them being there. Their generosity was especially
illuminated when I arrived back at the hostel. My supervisor never asked me
if I was all right, or if I needed anything. The only thing she told me was
that I needed to get my keys replaced as soon as possible.
I don’t know if
I can adequately describe the gratitude I have for the Swanson’s and for
God’s gift that day. I don’t believe I will ever be able to verbally
express how much it meant to me. I still can’t believe how spectacular
that event actually was. It was truly a blessing.
I mentioned
before that I learned a lot of things during those ten months. I realized
the answers to some of those difficult questions that I was being asked.
That Christmas reinforced why I believed in God and His Son, and why I
managed to get up early on a Sunday morning and go to church. I thought of
that day and of the Swanson’s and all of the magnificent blessings
surrounding it and said to myself, “that is how I believe what I believe”.
To me, church means many things. It’s a building, sure. But it also means;
home, family, peace, teaching, comfort and hope. It is a common factor that
makes us more complete while fulfilling God’s promise through each
individual.
It is through
the experiences God hands us that we learn and grow. Through the harsh and
testing experiences we take the lessons we have learned and leave the rest
behind. Through the pleasurable experiences we take the lessons as well as
fond memories. All so that We may be a tree that bears fruit.
As a closing
I would like to mention how proud I am of the graduates in our church family
and leave you with a saying by the poet and great woman Maya Angelou. “It
is this belief in a power larger than myself and other than myself which
allows me to venture into the unknown and even the unknowable.” Amen.
Sermon
for 5 Easter: 