Stand Firm

From Matt
That first Sunday away from Old Good Shepherd, as it has come to be known, was bitingly cold and it had snowed six inches overnight. I’d read the weather reports the night before and prayed fretfully for God to work some kind of miracle. The last thing we needed our first Sunday out was momentum killing weather. On regular Sundays six inches would mean a small dip in attendance, especially for the earlier service. I had no idea what it would mean for our first Sunday in a gym.

The Conklin Avenue Baptist Church gym is exactly half a mile away from the rectory of St. Andrew’s. Pastor Hollinger had given us keys the day before and a few men and I had spent part of Saturday night setting up about 60 chairs—always better to add than subtract seating I think—and tables for food. The altar guild ladies had transformed an old folding table into an altar and done their best to make it beautiful. They didn’t have much to work with. Our fine altar linens, silver chalices and patens, candles, vestments were left behind. We were left with one bluish clay chalice and paten, an older green vestment, some cloth that one of the altar guild ladies brought, and some candles Anne and I bought in Israel.

Answering questions from 8 o’clockers during announcement time at the early service

I arrived 7am on Sunday morning. The parking lot was not plowed but the snow was light and fluffy rather than heavy and wet. Things looked good. There was really nothing to do but wait and see who showed up.

At about five minutes till the top of the hour, the 8 o’clockers began to file in, all of them. I have to admit being surprised, not just because of the weather, but because 8 o’clockers are habitualists by nature. I feared that the gym’s utilitarian setting versus the traditional majesty of Christ Church (the cardinal Episcopal parish in downtown Binghamton) might be too tempting for some. But I’d misjudged them. They were all there.

The service was remarkably unremarkable. Readings, liturgy, sermon, communion. Liturgy is a comfort at times like this. There were many questions during announcement time that I simply could not answer. “How long are we going to be in this gym?” “Are we looking for a new church building?” “Are we going to appeal the judgment?” I didn’t have much to say. We’d scheduled a special vestry meeting that Wednesday (a local church, Ross Memorial Presbyterian, had offered their classrooms to our vestry for meeting space), but I really had no idea.

Having moved into the rectory earlier in the week, we’d begun to cast our eyes longingly toward the former St. Andrew’s church building which stood mere feet from the rectory door. It was big, beautiful, and empty. I’d talked it over with the wardens and we’d decided that, since I had a good relationship with him, I would call Msgr Meaghar before the week’s end to discuss the possibility of renting the space. I probably should have called to ask right off the bat, but Msgr Meaghar had already done so much for us and he’d not offered the worship space when we spoke about the rectory so I was ashamed to ask for anything more. I prayed that God would give me the words to say and give me the confidence to say them. And I put it off. I procrastinated. I procrastinated all week long until finally, Saturday evening, driving back to the rectory after setting up the gym, I realized I could not put it off any more. I’d see my wardens the next day and I couldn’t face them without having made the call.

About five minutes after I walked through the door, my cell phone rang. It was Msgr. Meaghar.

“Yes” I said, “Pastor Hollinger was good enough to offer us his gym so we’re planning to worship there”.

“Well, I had no idea you were out of your church already or I would have called earlier. Before you make plans for next Sunday, call me.”

My heart was pounding. I felt sure that he intended to offer the St. Andrew’s sanctuary, but I couldn’t be sure and I didn’t want to jump too eagerly. Maybe he wants to offer some space at his current location? There was no way to know and he didn’t offer anymore information so I decided not to press him. Instead, I thanked him for his concern for us and I expressed, again, our deep gratitude for the use of the rectory, and promised to call him Monday. He said good-bye and we hung up.

I couldn’t share any of this on Sunday morning. I reported the conversation to the wardens but there was really nothing firm to tell the congregation and we didn’t want to get hopes up (theirs or ours) so we decided to keep it to ourselves until Monday.

Meanwhile, the 8 o’clockers were also concerned about the legal situation which was still up in the air.

Choir sings at the later service

We had sixty days to appeal the ruling if we wanted to and the judge had left one major unresolved issue on the table, the Branan estate, a $600,000 bequest.Would it go with us or must it also be relinquished? I am no lawyer, but my understanding is that the question hinged on discerning the intent of the donor (who had died in the 80s), and the judge wanted more time to consider the matter.

I couldn’t say this at the time, but I was somewhat disappointed that the judgment was not a blanket loss. Far better, from a pastoral standpoint, to lose everything at once and deal with it than to have a continuing court battle while trying to build a new church. Furthermore, lots of my parishioners knew Mr. Branan personally and well and were scandalized at the now distinct probability the judge would hand their old friend’s bequest over to the diocese that had sued the church he had so loved.

The first service ended with the familiar warmth of handshakes and smiles. There were questions, big ones, hanging in the air but it was clear that the 8 o’clockers were committed to Good Shepherd for the long haul.

Most 8 o’clockers, as a rule, do not stay for Sunday School. Instead about 30 to 40 from the 10:30am service come early for adult ed. We’d been working through a series of lessons based on Neibur’s Christ and Culture and I planned to keep that focus despite the new circumstances. My theory is that the less people think in terms of “crisis mode” in the middle of a crisis the better. So I determined to answer questions honestly when they arose but to speak, preach, and converse in a manner that conveyed, despite my own deep anxiety and doubts, confidence in God’s plan and purpose for us and trust in his providence.

From Anne
Meanwhile, I was was back at home rifling through piles of beautifully clean laundry and boxes trying to get everyone clothed and in their right minds for Sunday school. Besides being overwhelmed by the basic circumstances of life at that moment, we’d all been overwhelmed by the luxury of having three bathrooms and an enormous kitchen. No one knew which bathroom to occupy or which chair to sit in or what to eat for breakfast or what to wear.

And the children were weepy. A forced move from home and church in one week had been a difficult but abstract concept that we were all willing to live through abstractly two weeks before. But now the abstract had become real. We were getting dressed in a palatial but strangely empty house, not our own, to go to church in a gym. It was now enfleshed reality that we would never go home or worship in the Old Good Shepherd again.

Furthermore, in a fit of insanity, I’d had my hair cut short two days in the middle of the week. While the children squabbled and fussed, I tried to carefully and ineffectively muss my hair in the manner prescribed by the hairstylist. I eventually gave up and we shoved ourselves into the car feeling not ourselves and not entirely in our right minds.

The whole half mile was spent in anxious wondering about where we were going. Emma and Aedan didn’t have a concept that “church” was bigger than the building we used to occupy. When you say “We’re going to church”, surely we mean to the place we always go on Sunday and every other day. Our holidays away visiting other “churches” never made any lasting impression. Aedan’s voice gets higher and higher when he is unsure of himself, and Emma’s is swallowed in her throat.

Arriving to worship at Conklin Ave. Baptist was infused with the same sense of overabundance as being in the new house. Everybody fell down in the big drifts of snow in the few short steps from the car to the door, but the gym was so perfectly warm and bright. The number of classrooms provided for our use were so many. The donuts and cookies were too great and of too many kinds to number. (Possibly out of nervousness, it seemed that everyone had brought something to eat. Fortunately, the kitchen was so vast as to accommodate them all.) All of God’s grace and providence hit us like a wave as we walked in so that we all cheered up and launched into the usual chaos of a regular Sunday morning.

Despite the plethora of rooms and opportunities, all the younger Sunday School met together for comfort’s sake and walked through the 23 Psalm—the Lord is my Shepherd, I have everything I need, I have more than I need. We lit the candle and organized the sheep and shepherd and the children all talked about how they saw that was God leading us from one pasture to another. Woe was turned to wonder and excitement about what God was doing.

Matt again
In other words, Class went well. There were about 35 adults, and all the kids classes were filled to usual capacity. The adults were much more interested in “secularism”, which was the topic (still setting the context for Christ and Culture) than in anything else. Mostly we were all bewildered at the fact that we were in such a different place doing much the same thing.

Celebrating communion on a folding gym table

There is about a 15 minute interval between the end of Sunday School and the beginning of the 10:30 service. It was during that interval that the press, once again, arrived. This time it was one television crew from News 10 Now. They asked whether they could stay for the service. As long as the camera did not interfere with worship, I had no problem with it and, in general, think it a good thing for press people to be in church. But it did add to my sinful worry. If nobody shows up, I thought, then the cameras will pan across a basically empty gym and that would only add to the gloating we were beginning to hear from the Episcopalians all over town.

There was no reason to worry about the cameras (you can watch the news video shot that day here and read the accompanying article). We had about sixty for the 10:30am which meant that the seats we put out were filled. But this was still not good. We were pegging in the low 90’s regularly before we moved. This first Sunday out we were down to 80 total (including the 8 o’clock). I immediately began piling anxiety on top of anxiety. What if this is the beginning of a long slow trickle of loss? What happens if Msgr Meaghar has something else in mind besides the St. Andrew’s sanctuary? What’s it going to be like two months from now with, say, 60 people total, ever decreasing numbers, increasing sense of loss and homelessness?

During announcements, I passed on plans for all the bible studies to meet that week and morning prayer to continue. Daily morning prayer, the two Tuesday bible studies, and the Saturday women’s bible study would meet in the St. Andrew’s rectory basement. The Friday morning men’s bible study and breakfast would meet at Denny’s. Given that we had no permenant place to run the Shepherd’s Bowl (our soup kitchen which was running in a temporary and makeshift way out of Sts John and Andrew’s parish hall one block from the Old Good Shepherd) We decided to put the Thursday beginners’ bible study on hold.

Men’s Bible Study meets at Dennys

The congregation’s attitude that morning was the polar opposite of mine. There was a sense of excitement and anticipation and trust. People were downright jovial during and after the service. Kids running everywhere, pastries, cake, donuts and coffee flowing. Those who belonged to the various bible studies promised they would be there and everyone said they would be back for worship in the gym next week.

But it was clear that the gym, as nice as it was, would not be sufficient long term.

Even without telling anyone about the call from Msgr Meaghar, the St. Andrew’s facility was on everyone’s mind. John Chaney, our junior warden, had, long before we lost the lawsuit, been in favor of making an offer for St. Andrew’s and had drawn up a financial plan for doing it. But in the middle of the fight for our beloved building, few were willing to go that route.

And, thanks to the wisdom of various parishioners, we were not destitute. When the diocese filed their suit in April of 2008, there was an immediate and dramatic drop in giving. Nobody wanted to give to Good Shepherd knowing that, should we lose the case, all assets would have to be handed over to the Diocese of Central New York. Instead of giving to Good Shepherd, they pooled their money in an account held by a completely separate charitable organization that had been set up (years earlier and not by anyone from Good Shepherd) to help churches in distress. The leaders of this group of parishioners invited those who could no longer give in good conscience to Good Shepherd to contribute what they would normally give to this separate organization instead.

St. Andrew’s was on the market. It had been appraised at $700,000.00. This appraisal included the entire property—the rectory, 400 seat sanctuary and parish hall, school building, parking lot and storage facility. That may not sound like much money for readers from places like Virginia and Texas, but property prices are generally much lower here in Binghamton and 700K is just right for a property of St. Andrew’s size.

Inside the St. Andrew’s Sanctuary

Given the numbers, the hope that St. Andrew’s could become our permanent home seemed an impossibly remote one.

But it was standing empty. And it was in a great location, right off of one of the busiest routes in town and only a mile and a half down the very same road from Old Good Shepherd. And we did have a good relationship with Msgr. Meaghar. We were not in a position to buy, but we were in a position to rent. It would be tight but we believed we could afford to pay rent for the worship space alone for Sunday mornings each week without touching the 100K parishioners had saved during the year.

So, after a number of Sunday afternoon conversations with the wardens, it was resolved that at some point during my conversation with Msgr Meaghar on Monday, even if he offers something else, I would ask about the possibility of renting St. Andrew’s for Sunday worship.

I think sharing this story is so good on several levels. As someone who is probably old enough to be your mother I can say it’s good to tell how it happened before you forget.

And I imagine that it’s healthy emotionally and spiritually for you to share it, and I appreciate that you’re doing it as a couple/team. Then it’s good for us to read and understand how God works in the lives of other believers and parishes. Looking forward to the next installment.

I’m on the edge of my seat (even though I have a general idea of the ending since I’ve been viewing the sermon videos from the new church). There’s a mixture of loathing at how much pain a bishop and church diocese can inflict, and rejoicing at how the Lord can remedy it all beyond our wildest dreams. Please churn out the next chapter soon!

RE: “When the diocese filed their suit in April of 2008, there was an immediate and dramatic drop in giving. Nobody wanted to give to Good Shepherd knowing that, should we lose the case, all assets would have to be handed over to the Diocese of Central New York.”

RE: “Instead of giving to Good Shepherd, they pooled their money in an account held by a completely separate charitable organization that had been set up (years earlier and not by anyone from Good Shepherd) to help churches in distress. The leaders of this group of parishioners invited those who could no longer give in good conscience to Good Shepherd to contribute what they would normally give to this separate organization instead.”

How could they do such a thing to so gentle and wise a bishop, so loving and faithful a Standing Committee?

A cliff hanger! How I love to read books where each chapter ends with a real cliff hanger…reminds me of the old “penny dreadfuls”. Even though I know how the next chapter begins, I can hardly wait to turn the page! Thank you, Matt & Anne, for sharing this chapter with us.
Frances Scott

It is interesting to note that the diocese in their filing papers labelled the process of people voluntarily choosing not to give their own money to Good Shepherd: “diversion of funds” and accused those who did so of “funneling” money away from the Episcopal Church.

Did anything ever ocme out of that? I seem to recall some vague talk of them bringing another suit against y’all for that very thing.

Hi AndrewA…not to be coy, but this series will deal with all of that and I don’t want to give anything away…

#7 Matt - How dare that organization set money aside money to help those in need! All you people were robbing the Episcopal Church by not contributing to fund the further work of ~~the delinquency of~~ the Gospel! Do you have no faith in the work of Episcopal Bishops, convention delegates or Diocese Committees!

RE: “It is interesting to note that the diocese in their filing papers labelled the process of people voluntarily choosing not to give their own money to Good Shepherd: “diversion of funds” and accused those who did so of “funneling” money away from the Episcopal Church.”

I mean—to think that Episcopalians would refuse to give money to an Episcopal parish. What an outrage.

Choosing other charities to which to give money is certainly “funneling” money away from the Episcopal Church. Clearly not giving money to an Episcopal parish and picking some place else to give money is “diversion of funds.”

I have often reflected on the “diversion of funds” away from me, for instance, which so many many people practice.

Thank you both for honestly telling your story. This is the reality of stepping out in faith as you have so beautifully done. It is never easy and always full of anxieties, difficulties and challenges. All who have done it (in our current situation and down through the ages) have known these realities. But in your story we see how wondrously God has provided (always beyond what we imagine) and He will continue to do so. In sharing your story, you are, once again, giving Him glory and honor and praise.

At our annual meeting, my husband and I said we would no longer give to the CNY Diocese. We had long before decided to restrict our giving - not allowing any of it to be sent to the Diocese under any circumstances. It was really a no-brainer.

It was simply amazing to see that all but two of our parishioners followed suit. The regular pledgers plus those who never pledged before began to “divert” their hard earned money.

We also received donations from perfect strangers who believed in our cause. Several Stand Firm members also came though. One even hand made the most beautiful chasuble and stole set for Fr. Matt. We are most appreciative of all of those “Stand Firmers.”

Matt—What is the current status of Old Good Shepherd, and what plans (if any) does DioCNY have for the building? I checked on the diocesan website, and no Good Shepherd in Binghamton (or any other reconstituted parish occupying the building) is listed. Is this another case of an expensive lawsuit for an empty building?

Yes we are very thankful…we’ll be writing about how much SF readers helped us in an upcoming article.

There was no congregation to reconstitute. We only lost two parishioners in the move, total. Everyone else came with us. The bishop decommissioned the church earlier this year…there are rumors about its present status…but I’ll hold off on that for now.

What also stands out is the Christian outreach and generosity of the Catholics and Baptists.

And then there is the Episcopal Diocese of CNY. (Long pause. Silence. Change of subject).....Must be cold up there this time of year.

This is such an inspiring story -painful as it must have been to go through, Matt.
I believe that the Lord helped you to prepare by saving your funds for your future. How could the diocese have any grounds for complaint?

Matt—Thanks. It appears the old building was decommissioned March 1, not even two months after you departed. A nifty example of spite litigation by the diocese.

Matt, I am completely fascinated by your narratives, and eagerly look forward to subsequent installments. Thank you, and thanks to Anne.

Thanks, Matt and Anne. I have been looking for your “next installment” for a long time! I just never get tired of stories that tell about the Lord’s provision and goodness.

A chorus from my Church of God clergy days:
“God is Great, God is good, God is wonderful;
And He whispers sweet peace to me.”
Ain’t it da trut’?

Okay, for one who fussed on the delay, I am pretty late to the party! [Snow removal is actually good for my business, merely snow on ground is poor, so time to cruise SFIF next week].

I confess to only doing a “once over” on this article, which seems to REALLY deserve me to plow into next week when dead time meets my struggle reading and I can more fully digest what you intended to say.

My immediate walk-away (which as hinted above may not be intended (but it would re-enforce something, so maybe the Spirit working just for me) is the Church is not a building but people!!

I’m kind of humbled here ... it does take effort for me to read, digest and fully interpret things written, that a lot is merely “looking at the photos.” They seem to say something of an emotion I have the day I went to worship at WCF instead of COSC (initials because it not important other than not our usual rented space) yet I knew everyone in the room. This is something I heard from where I had just left (something about a “corn field”) but was all merely theory there, truth be known, still IS, as the Lord has been kind in their case, yet they are still in the boat, instead of on the water - no moral judgment, but three Hebrew boys in a fire seven times hotter may actually been more blessed than Ester, though both were from Jesus).

I’m still on whatever growth program the Lord has laid out, so not more than to say Praise Jesus for what He has done for all His children, thank you for sharing your testimony. I look forward to rereading in better circumstances.

What a story! I have enjoyed reading both installments. God’s Providence can be surprising. In the bleak days ahead for my diocese (SC), our Bishop has asked us to look to God’s Providence.

Matt+, your feelings were anxiety and doubt, but your (and Anne+‘s and the vestry and congregation’s) actions were to step out in faith. Bravo to you all and glory to God!

A captivating story, well told, Matt. And it was nice to have Anne’s perspective included as well. And as with the first installment, the pictures add a lot.

FWIW, I agree with Matt that when a parish is going through a wrenching crisis like this where it’s very survival is at stake, it’s wise for the priest and key lay leaders to minimize the general anxiety level by exuding all the calm and confidence they can, and trying to maintain all the normalcy possible. As ++Bob Duncan the Lion-Hearted has said so often, Courage breeds courage.

What happened to the bumped emails between Matt and Canon whats her name with the comment from the woman in Geneva whose priest has been inhibited and now Canon whats her name is in charge? She asked if Canon what’s her name is a priest and Matt said yes, but do not trust her. I know they were all here earlier today or yesterday. I wanted to ask the woman what her priest was inhibited for supposedly…
Have they been unbumped for a reason?

By the way, nice telling of the story. I had no idea at the time you were so nervous. I remember the Sunday at the gym as a really moving time. I am there in the picture, the stoop shouldered woman in the purple in the end chair near the choir. At least I think that’s me (I). I never had such a strong realization that as nice as things like shiny gold chalices and beautiful vestments are…and one should honor God with them if one has them…the loss of them does not make the Eucharist any less holy.

Dear Matt and Anne,
Just reading through my tears. What an engaging chronicle of the Lord’s faithfulness.
Carol

Your wonderful testimony is encouraging to those of us who may be on the chopping block. Thanks, Matt and Anne!

This is so exciting! Wow. Our church has struggled so since we left our building behind, that I can’t begin to tell you how exciting it is to see the Lord move in and pull out something wonderful for another congregation.

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