Mtr Mary Trainor

 O for a thousand tongues to sing*
my great Redeemer's praise,
the glories of my God and King,
the triumphs of his grace!

Dear friend,

Evangelism is a word used cautiously in the Episcopal Church. It’s not that we don’t use it, or that we don’t do evangelism, it’s that our timidity might lessen the impact of our witness. I suspect this reluctance, or at least I claim this for myself, lies in stereotypes we have seen. Maybe we think we have to button-hole acquaintances in the market or shared social settings.

Today the church remembers the Consecration of Samuel Seabury as the first American bishop. This hard-won consecration allowed the spread of the Episcopal Church, as new priests and deacons were ordained and as the populace headed West. Churches were built along the way and were occupied, in large measure, by those of newfound faith.

The role of evangelism was less suspicious in a country growing and moving. New houses of faith were built to meet the need. The story of Jesus was generally welcomed where and when  introduced.

He speaks; and, listening to his voice,
new life the dead receive,
the mournful broken hearts rejoice,
the humble poor believe.

The Gospel assigned to Seabury’s remembrance is from Matthew, and it contains these familiar words from Jesus: “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

One reason I find evangelism intimidating is due to a thinking error. I assume I have to make it happen with a strong, well-honed pitch. The church needs people to keep it going, and I have a responsibility to bring them in. But...I don’t. You don’t.

We don’t need to enhance Jesus for people to receive his message of compassion. We are surrounded everywhere we go by the walking wounded, some whose wounds show and others whose wounds are buried deep within. It’s hard to drive a mile without seeing a homeless person on the street. If we notice the everyday news--the stories we don’t hear while distracted by the world--we will find people are dying in all manner of violent ways and nonviolent ways; businesses are closing; people are losing homes; others are infected by disease, including COVID-19. Many, many things that need the touch of Jesus. How do we let people know?

After my first year of seminary, I returned to California for CPE (clinical pastoral education.) I drove from Austin to Riverside in a 1973 Volkswagen bug, with an ancient miniature poodle and a demonic cat. I was housesitting a four-bedroom home in an isolated area.

My little dog was 14. She had psychiatric issues, and numerous age-related physical ailments. One night I rushed her to the emergency veterinarian. She was alive when we arrived, but she died in their care.

When I got home, I pulled out my guitar and copies of hymns a friend had annotated with chords. I sang Charles Wesley’s lyrics well into the night--sang it through tears each time I came to this verse:

Hear him, ye deaf; ye voiceless ones,
your loosened tongues employ;
ye blind, behold your Savior comes;
and leap, ye lame, for joy!

The harvest is plentiful, abundant with grief, worry, pain, illness, hunger, thirst, death, loss. Voiceless ones. The blind. The lame. Each and all dying for some sign of Jesus’ message of good news. I have since learned that if I can share my story, maybe, just maybe, some of Jesus’ message can be received.

Mtr Mary

*Excerpts from Number 493, “The Hymnal 1982,” O for a thousand tongues to sing. Lyrics by Charles Wesley