Why People Don’t Go To Church

I've been pondering a question lately: why don’t people go to church? I’ve thought of long-term answers (a bad experience with religion) and short-term answers (the family is in town for the weekend) but no one thing will ever satisfy that question. There is no one sweeping answer like a key that unlocks a door.

I can let that question go. I'm not the first to ask it. In fact, I'm sure priests and pastors ask it all the time.

In the end, it probably just doesn't matter that much. Rather than ask why other people don't go to church, I might ask why I do? The answer to that question is not nearly so complicated-I go to be a part of something bigger than myself.

At church, St. Dunstan's, I am not required to manage people or answer questions or pay bills or put the dog out. It's not even remotely about me and what I do. It's about being with my fellow parishioners, about being inspired by a thought-provoking sermon or Sunday School class.

It's about prayer and communion, ingesting the body of Christ and making a fresh pact with God to go out and make the world a better place. It is about resolving petty differences I've conjured up during the week and letting them go, forgiving.

It's about listening to our amazing choir, and the baroque trio that greets me for no special occasion on Sunday morning. It's about watching the children lined up in their little chairs in front of the door with the giant construction paper fish-covered door (Jonah and the whale).

It's about passing peace and not passing judgment.

It's about community. It's about the fact that I'm not sure there's a better place or way I'd choose to spend my Sunday mornings. And if some people, even most people, don't go to church anymore, I know they've got their reasons. But I'm guessing also they're just

unaware of all the reasons to go.

Enjoying Great Coffee and Feeling Good About It

"Hmm, time to pick up some more coffee," I thought to myself as I was fixing a pot Sunday morning before I left for choir practice.  No problem, I'll just pick some up after church and maybe get something to fix for lunch while I'm at it.

 

But wait, after choir practice, there's coffee outside the Founders' Room. Alright! It was brought by Hilary King, who spoke to the Adult Formation Class for the second session on Food and Faith.

 

Hilary gave a very informative presentation on Fair Trade coffee and had a lot of interesting tidbits on the background and history of coffee.

 

I know we are all called to be a Christian witness to the world and a lot of times it's tough, like trying to find a Farmers Market that's nearby, (plus the fact that I don't really like grocery shopping). Or, I could react to global catastrophes by writing a check to Episcopal Relief & Development.

 

But how about this?  I can do something about my quality of life, namely drinking good coffee.  And while I am doing this, I can have a positive impact on (an admittedly small) part of world.  This would be relatively easy, just look for Fair Trade, Organic, Shade-grown, etc., coffee.  Or buy coffee from a company like Liga Masiva, Hilary's company, which sells Direct Trade coffee.  Liga Masiva works directly with smallholder organic farmers in the Dominican Republic, cutting out the middlemen.

 

So I learned about the business of coffee and how it's grown, and I learned how I can help improve the quality of life of some organic farmers while I'm enjoying a great cup of coffee.  Win-Win!

Reflections on 9/11

Every year since Sept. 11, 2001, I have worked on a special publication to commemorate the day—part of my job at newspapers, magazine and now online business news. I have to say, this year, despite it being the 10th anniversary, I wasn’t sure exactly what else to say, let alone compiling multiple stories into a special edition. So I was pleasantly surprised when others took up the thinking for me. The memorial edition opened with a picture (taken hours earlier on Friday) of empty chairs in Manhattan’s Bryant Park, one for each of the 2,753 people who died in the attacks. And then much of the rest of the focus was on the rebuilding that has been done in the past decade.

As a journalist and as an American, I think memorializing this day is important. As a Christian, I think the lesson of 9/11 requires a more personal journey, one that I’m not completely comfortable taking because I think that it means exploring violent death: first, what it means for the victims and their families, and second, how we respond.

In Patricia’s sermon this morning, the biggest response was stated: as Christians, we are required to forgive. I have nothing to add to that—it’s as plain to me as my duty to respect life, even when my heart isn’t right about a particular circumstance.

To add to the conversation, I think the violent deaths of nearly 3,000 on 9/11 should serve as a flashing neon sign for every violent death that occurs every day. Single deaths in dark alleys and seedy hotel rooms. Deaths in wars—near and far. The cutting short of life, the theft of life of those who possessed it and those who loved them. It leaves an imprint that is so deep and permanent I think it might as well be a brand seared into the flesh of survivors.

Violent death is different from what happens when someone is taken by accident or untimely cause like a terminal disease. Early is still sudden death, with no chance to say good-bye, not one last “I love you” or one last, “you know I didn’t mean that.” Early death is still terrible and there never seems to be a reason why. But with violent death, there is a very clear reason why: Hatred.

And fighting against violent death, I think, should also be very clear:
Where we have suffered loss, we can use that experience to practice deep compassion for others who have suffered loss—around the corner and around the world. If we know what it means to lose someone we love to violence and hatred, we cannot ignore the fact that we know what that means to every other single person on the planet. Every mother, child, husband, wife, brother, sister or friend who has lost someone to violent death.

Like we all prayed this morning: “O God, the Lord of all, whose Son commanded us to love our enemies: Lead them and us from prejudice to truth; deliver them and us from hatred, cruelty, and revenge; and in your good time enable us all to stand reconciled before you; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”