In the words of Reverend Declan Smalls:
I sit now in St Patrick's Chapel, the last remnants of the Catholic Church we amalgamated with. The old altar, larger than ours in St George's proper, sits at one end of the balcony surrounded with the sanctified remains of the once proud church that stood three lots down from here.
I like sitting here, it is most serene, and here is where I can normally be found when I'm preparing the next week's sermon. I know what you're saying; you're wondering why I bother to prepare a sermon. I get that question a lot, many of those in the synod merely reuse their sermons and I could too. Lets face it, every three years we're on the same gospel and I've been doing this for nearly thirty years so its not like I don't already have at least ten versions but I find I have to write a new one, not every time but most.
It's not because I'm worried someone will notice me repeating myself, even if I were to believe any of them can remember that far back it wouldn't matter because I don't believe many of them are paying that much attention. It would almost be worth repeating one to see if anyone does notice, that in itself would mean something.
I don't write them fresh for the congregation, I write them fresh for me. I have to. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to climb out of bed. And it's not so bad, each time I review the passages, the first and second readings to see if they inspire me and then on occasion my previous sermons. I usually really agree or really disagree with something I once wrote and lets face anger can really get you writing so that's often a starting point. Other times, when there is very little to debate I slink up to the St Patrick sanctuary here and meditate on the subject.
Do I still pray you ask? Of course, I've been doing that so often that it's as natural as breathing. Does it mean anything? It helps to focus, it certainly gets the juices in my mind going and the result is usually successful so I guess it does. On some level, who knows, if God does exist then maybe that's how he helps me.
I know it sounds odd, to hear that a reverend, a priest, say he doesn't necessarily believe in God, you think maybe that should be a requirement for becoming a priest. It isn't. Even in the hell and damnation set the only belief you need is in the Church, they'd get all righteous if you suggested it to their face but faith in the Church and sales skills are the basis of this job, anyone who's done it for a while knows that.
You can tell it too. Everyone, no matter their faith or commitment at one point or another has a crisis of it. They wonder about God, about his willingness to let bad things happen, particularly to what they decide are good people. It happens. What a person believes during crisis is the surest test of their faith, do they abandon it, do they question it or do they seek solace in it? That's where you find out the quality of their metal.
Ephesians 2:8, Faith is a gift from God and how you are saved, I'm paraphrasing, another sin of mine I suppose. We still use the flowery text and I think many people are put off by that but that's what the sermon is for, say the flowery text then explain it in plain language.
Faith. It's what it all comes down to. I have faith in the church, even as we were under attack, even as our numbers were dwindling by force our doors opened and throngs of people seeking food to survive came, people seeking clothes to keep warm came. The church stood strong, our mission remained, and we adapted but held true and continued. Sure in the past both histories I represent have their darkest hours but more usually at the behest of their governments. You have to judge an institution as it stands now and I have faith in this one.
And today I feel inspired. Yesterday in the service there was an attendee who seemed actually to be taking notes, interest even in what I was saying and afterward, during the fellowship coffee hour he even had questions. It's been so long that anyone seemed to be actually interested. I almost brushed him off, found him to be a pest and then I realized what it was he was doing.
Some of the questions reminded me of a Jesuit seminary, you know the old “can God make a boulder so big even He can't lift it?” How do you answer that? Still it was enjoyable, having someone who actually listened. Almost gives me faith again. In prayer that is.
