St. James is a great church. Our laid back authenticity and fun, ancient-future, rockin' worship has attracted an ecclectic bunch of folks, some of whom have moved beyond the traditional Lutheran style, some of whom have intentionally steered clear of it, and some who really like that but like the community more. We've jokingly called ourselves the "island of misfit toys." And I think there's some truth to that.
Time after time, I would hear both newcomers and veteran members remark that there's a spirit (I should say Spirit) to St. James that they haven't found at other churches. For me, that meant finding a sense of adventure and creativity after slamming my head against the glass ceiling of "we've never done it that way before" in other congregations. For others it was the ability to wear jeans (yeah, I love that, too), or to play and sing music in their heart language, or our openness to people bringing their coffee and their kids into the sanctuary.
I remember the first time I visited. I wasn't so sure about the "praise" music (which we've balanced with a lot of fun and profound music, old and new, since then). But I was captivated when, before ending the prayers, the pastor talked about little Sarah and her medical problems. Then he went back and brought Sarah and her mom up front, and people came out of their pews to lay hands on them, and those that couldn't reach to Sarah and Laura laid their hands on the person in front of them. I don't recall what Pastor Paul said, but I'll never forget how the prayer for healing was the people's prayer, and what it felt like to really be the body of Christ. I knew then that this was a community I could be part of.
It's that authenticity that people have responded to at St. James. It's a place where you can be who you are in the presence of God. And there's so much of that I will carry with me wherever I go in the church, or in life:
- Baptizing the Gallagher clan around a plastic kids' pool in Peace Valley Park.
- Celebrating Communion after a community dinner at the Blue Dog.
- Having five or six teenagers make up half of the worship band.
- Watching Ernie take Clara's hand during a particularly rousing version of "Cry of My Heart" and dance with her in the aisle; and the more subued version we sang at her funeral.
- The time Steven, then a teen, opened the prayers with "What's up?" (and dared to say that some situation he prayed about "sucked" -- which it did)
- Cutting a plastic serving plate and wearing it around my neck to be John the Baptist for Bibleween (head on a platter -- get it?) -- though I still don't get the dalmatian costume the pastor wore.
- People fretting that we couldn't have communion on a week without a pastor present.
- Abandoning worship practice in mid-stream when a water leak caused Brighten Place (a facility for persons with brain injury) across the street to be evacuated, then singing for hours to the guests being warmed and fed in our fellowship hall, until the wee hours.
- Dispersing into the community on the first Sunday in September to do Labor for the Lord service projects.
- The look of joy on the kids faces when they'd get their hands on the evergreen branches to help us remember our baptisms.
The spirit of St. James will live on in the lives shaped for mission and the quest for authentic community and passionate spirituality that many of us are moving on with. Some of us are going to other congregations. Some of us are meeting in homes seeking a simpler, more flexible expression of church. Still others are discerning where God is leading. Some are doing all of the above. And what is the spiritual life but listening noticing where God is acting, paying attention to where the Spirit is blowing, and picking up and going when we're sent?
If you're around the area, please join us for our celebration of ministry coming up on Sunday, Feb. 25, beginning with music at 3:30 p.m. Directions are here. We hope to see you.