Reflection :: April 25
Alice Roettger shares the following reflection:
Recently, the Thursday Morning Women’s Bible Study paused in its study of the Parables in order to take up a Lenten exploration of our baptismal promise in terms of evangelism. Even though it was offered by the Episcopal Forward Movement that publishes Forward Day By Day, we cringed — Episcopalians and evangelism?
However, as we became more submerged in the study, visions of standing on street corners or in Laundromats handing out flyers or, worse yet, asking “Are you saved?” began to fade. There are others ways, we learned — more subtle ways that can be more comfortable both to speaker and to listener.
We don’t need to “recruit”; we need only to share, quietly and subtly, with words that sink in rather than put off. Ironically, the result can end up being recruitment as was shown in St. Paul’s own history, known as the Legion Hall days.
In the late 1930s, the original St. Paul’s began to lose members as they moved farther north. Nearby residences, that had been homes to many parishioners, became multi-family buildings and the crowning insult, the Fox Burlesque Theater, appeared almost across the street. The new rector, William Burrows, proposed that St. Paul’s might best serve its people by moving with them. The plan: Allow some members to stay in the old church until the new one was built, open a “Sunday School” in the American Legion Hall at 64th and College Avenue, and meet there temporarily for about 18 months during construction.
Unfortunately, the architectural drawings were dated December 8, 1941, the day after the Pearl Harbor attack. Soon a moratorium was placed on civilian building projects. What to do. As gas rationing limited travel, an opportunity appeared to offer church services to neighborhood residents for whom other churches might have been too far away. In a quiet way, St. Paul’s began to “recruit.”
“We’re meeting near you and are going to build a new church at 61st and Meridian. Would you like to join us?” A nearby patriotic “scrap pile” appeared on the Legion Hall grounds while a sign inviting the public to join St. Paul’s services stood nearby. Legion members who witnessed the regular Saturday arranging of the big meeting room into a “church” of sorts, with the dais becoming an altar, may have decided to investigate the services on Sunday. My own folks, who were very active in those Legion Hall days, extended an invitation to a fair number of friends who became active members.
By the time the new church building was completed just after the War, a comfortably sized congregation was ready to join the “old members” who had continued to worship downtown.
Subtle evangelism can be very powerful. It doesn’t need to accost. It doesn’t need to challenge by asking if one “is saved,” or hand out flyers on street corners. We can all be evangelists. We need only to quietly share and let God do the rest, just as he did in the early 40s at St. Paul’s.
Alice Roettger, St. Paul's Parishioner
