Sermon for November 7, 2021 -The First Sunday of Advent , Year B, Leah Rugen - Stewardship Chair

Click HERE to view Leah Rugen’s Stewardship Sermon from November 7, 2021.

I want to thank Jeff for giving me the opportunity to preach today. It’s a great privilege and joy.  I’ve been a member of St. Paul’s for about 15 years now and for at least half of that time I’ve been a part of the stewardship ministry and the fall pledge appeal.

I know you will bear with me as I share my testimonial for Ingathering Sunday that accidentally became a sermon for the first Sunday in Advent. And on top of all that, it is the day after we change the clocks. Whoosh.

Despite the awkwardness of talking about money and the tiny bit of stress in getting mailings organized, I’ve grown to love the pledge appeal. It helps me to think about my connection to this community and to my faith. I wanted to speak this year, because the pandemic has been so hard emotionally and has driven me to consider what is most essential about my life at St Paul’s.

First, I want to say something about pledging and get that out of the way. My husband Andy and I make an annual pledge each year based on a percentage of our income. I encourage everyone to use this approach to calculating a pledge – consider your financial resources and make a pledge that is proportional. Because of the impact St. Paul’s has on our lives, and our children’s lives, and also because of the impact we see that it has on others, our gift to St. Paul’s is the largest financial gift we make each year.

But what I really want to talk about is the Why… Why Church and why St. Paul’s. What is essential about it? What is the essence for me?  When we first closed these doors in March 2020, I think I lasted about two weeks before I called Jeff and said that it was too long. I stayed engaged online and was very happy that our common work and ministries continued, but I was truly grief stricken by the loss of in person worship. I realized that for me, what happens here Sunday mornings is the essence and the heart of everything else. Why?

I think part of the answer lies in the beauty of the words, music, space, and movements working together. Part of the answer lies in the physicality of it. I missed standing up and sitting down; joining my voice with other voices; taking the wafer in my hands and eating it. All of these rituals and traditions are ancient and connect us to thousands of years of humanity.  Together they become a deep well of renewal that I can drink from every week.

Another part of Why is that by praising God and remembering Christ’s life and death every week we remember that we are not God. We are small but we are also connected and loved. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t spent a lot more time these last 18 months considering mortality and human fragility. Here we have the sacred space to acknowledge both fear and hope. Joy and grief exist together in this space. Think about last week’s service of All Saints with our remembrances of our beloved dead alongside our baptisms of tiny new Christians.

Now we have entered a season of waiting, of Advent, which not coincidentally occurs during the darkest time of the year. It is a bridge season – and for me is powerfully linked to what we are going through with this pandemic. We are waiting. We are venturing out into an uncertain future. We are trying to use the spirit of renewal we experience here and find ways to serve others. Like the women in today’s lessons from scripture – Ruth and Naomi and the poor widow who gives her two coins at the Temple, we make small, seemingly insignificant gestures, and hope they will mean something.

So why St. Paul’s? Why commit to one place? Why not just visit beautiful worship services all around town? I admit I love to attend other churches on occasion. And I’m very fond of several. But over time, my connection to people here has deepened and this connection adds even more resonance and depth to my experience of worship. Over time you get to know people’s stories and they know yours. You become curious about newcomers and what their stories might be. And lately I’m even more poignantly aware of people who have died and whose spiritual DNA is present here.

This leads me to the last thing I want to talk about. The last why. I know that eventually I won’t be able to come to this sanctuary on Sunday mornings. I’m so grateful to this technology that allows us to come into people’s homes. It’s allowing my mom to see me preach this morning!

But I’m thinking about something besides technology.

My friend Linda Hastie whose funeral was last week taught me many things about the essence of church. We got to know each other well when it became difficult for her to get here and she graciously invited St. Paul’s Eucharistic Visitors to come to her home. It was a revelation to me that two or three of us could create a holy space and share communion. She loved to hear what was going on at St. Paul’s and as long as she could, she engaged in a ministry of writing birthday and condolence cards. During the isolation of the pandemic, I think she appreciated the live streams, but the technology was a little challenging.  Long telephone conversations were better. Thank goodness for masks and vaccines so we could resume visiting in person.

As she neared the end of her life Linda opened her home to a circle of friends from St. Paul’s. By then what mattered most to her was simple presence – she called it a “ministry of presence” and we recognized that it was reciprocal. She showed me what church can be in the end.

Ruth and Naomi had no idea that their journey together would lead to the birth of King David. They simply committed to caring for one another, to being present for one another. The poor widow had no idea that Jesus was watching her as she put her two coins into the treasury, that her gesture would go on teaching generations about giving everything to God.

Maybe this is the essential Why. In our presence here we are renewed and strengthened so we can be present to others here and in the world.