Why deacons?

...deacons are to be worthy of respect, sincere, not indulging in much wine, and not pursuing dishonest gain. They must keep hold of the deep truths of the faith with a clear conscience. They must first be tested; and then if there is nothing against them, let them serve as deacons. 

1 Timothy 3:8-10

When I was first engaging our local Diocesan School for Ministry, I had the blessing of traveling to and from the courses in Titusville with two faithful and inspiring persons, John and Kathleen. At the time, both were ordered deacons in our church (though Kathleen went on to be ordained a priest). They shared beautiful stories about the history of the Episcopal Church in Erie, spoke of the challenges of balancing family and ministry, and sparked attention to the needs of the community. Many times, our dialogue burst with joy and laughter, as their senses of humor, though different from my own, tickled my imagination; other times, their perceptions of the needs of the marginalized and underserved in our community moved tears to flow.

While John has since passed on, and my connections to Kathleen are fewer and farther between, they both seeded an appreciation of the deacons for their ministry. In the ordination liturgy for deacons, we recognize that the deacons perform a very special function in the life of the church. In many ways, to paraphrase Shakespeare's Hamlet, they hold up a mirror to all of us so that we can see all of ourselves; not solely the healthy and wealthy but also the the sick, the poor, the helpless in our midst, and remind us that our alms and efforts must be to address their needs.

Often we are certain we know that there are needs in our community, though we seldom ask those in need how we can help. We diagnose the situation from a distance, assess our own abilities and willingness to respond to the challenges others face, but doing so when it is convenient to ourselves. Recently a church wanted to address the needs that elementary school students had in doing their homework for class. For many families, with working parents, the adults may not have the time, energy, or education themselves to facilitate their children's learning. Members of this church developed a Saturday morning program to help tutor children. They had many members who signed up on Saturday mornings, when their schedules were most free, they purchased materials, created a welcoming environment in their Sunday school rooms, and they sent flyers to the elementary schools, hoping that the parents would send their children for this free outreach.

While hundreds of flyers went out, less than ten students came to the first tutoring session. The members of the congregation were disappointed, frustrated, and dismayed. They felt that either the schools didn't promote the program or that the families themselves didn't feel it worth their time. After several weeks, fewer church members agreed to be involved, and, with the waning enthusiasm, the program was ended.

A deacon in the parish shared that they knew this is what would happen. The deacon had been in contact with several of the parents in the neighborhood, and had listened to them. The parents shared that many of them had several children living in households, and that Saturday mornings were not only a chance for the children to sleep in, but also they were able to watch one another, while parents could work weekend hours (often for increased wages). What they really needed was an afterschool program, bridging the gap between the end of the school day and the end of the workday. They certainly had need, but the church had not attended to the expressed need; rather, they based their involvement on their own desires and schedules.

A deacon is empowered to be the honest voice in the room. They are called by God, not only to assist in the liturgical and teaching functions of a congregation, but also to be the honest gut-punch to the church. Sometimes their honesty is inconvenient, even offensively challenging, especially to other ministers and church leaders who believe they know best. Still, the calling of these special servants of God and of humanity allows our congregations to better be the hands, feet, voice, and heart of Christ in our communities and in our world.

In Acts we read that the ordering of the diaconal servant ministry was not a subservient task creation. It was an affirmation of individuals, dedicated to faithful study and rigorous prayer, sharing the Word through action and engagement. Their presence and inspiration pleased the faithful, the Word of God increased, and the numbers of faithful disciples grew exponentially. Their work also helped for priests to be more obedient in their ordination to preach, teach, and lead in authentic worship of God and Christ.

This is why the diaconal ministry exists, and this is why denominations like the Episcopal Church need to facilitate those who believe they are called to this essential order.

A Pre-Post Pandemic Post

O Lord, I love the habitation of your house and the place where your glory dwells.

- Psalm 28:6

St. Stephen's Episcopal Church in Fairview, Pennsylvania, has been gathering in cars and on our lawn since last summer, and last weekend we had our first indoor service in the church sanctuary. We had been attentive to the expressed needs of the congregation, even surveying our membership to see what their comfort levels were, what their liturgical desires were, and how the would be most comfortable engaging liturgical services safely. Christmas Eve brought well attended parking lot in car services, and Easter had our first sharing of pre-consecrated Holy Communion, a much wanted component for most if not all catholic churches. When the weather cleared, we restarted our outdoor services on our beautiful north lawn, with shade from our trees and from the shadow of the church's steeple.

However, there were voices that were self-silenced, and the positive experiences of others may have prompted them to finally express the challenges they were facing. Many were more mature members who were uncomfortable with either the in cars or outside gatherings. While it was nice to see other church members parked next to one another, it wasn't always as easy to feel as if one was in prayer while in a car seat. Although the outdoor services were wonderfully received by many, to some it was difficult to manage walking on grass with a folding chair in hand. These wonderful individuals who were not participating in our accommodation services finally shared, after a year, their reservations and their disappointments. As our community has seen noted low levels of reported infections, and as many of our congregants have been immunized, they finally and pointedly expressed their needs for in person / in church worship.

So finally, on July 4, we were able to celebrate Independence Day with our own assertion of independence from the pandemic restrictions, and held our first indoor service since March of 2020. We entered through our parish hall, sanitized, took our worship bulletins, and safely sat, with distance, in our well ventilated sanctuary. We affirmed our relationships, face to face and smile to smile, and we shared in a spoken Holy Eucharist that honored both our faith and our national heritage. We heard the beautiful readings appointed for the day, recognized our cultural accomplishments, acknowledged our national sins, and smiled with hope as we imagined our world guided by our Gospel principles of love of God and love of one another. We shared our prayers, our thanksgiving, the breaking of the bread, and the reception of our Holy Communion. And once again, we prayed to be sent forth to do the work God has given us to do.

And while there were less than fifteen of us gathered, the voices sharing praise and prayer in unison, filled the sanctuary and broke the silence of the past year. Our voices were faithful, good, and true, and smiles grew larger and eyes filled with tears. We imagined what our Hebrew ancestors may have felt in being kept from their Temple for decades. We considered what disciples must have felt during those three days of emptiness between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection. We recognized our own Christian hope, as an Advent people, in that space between Christ's presence and Christ's return.

And we were were thankful to know God's glorious presence in God's dwelling; deeply thankful to be together again in the house of God.