Like cats and dogs the rain pours down this morning. The kids already dropped off at school I drive to work Along my way heavy rain creates swamps and pools of water along the ditches and fields. The water slowly creeps into the storm sewers. And immediately, my mind is on the church building. Every time it rains I know what's coming. Plip, plip, plip, plip...
I would be more shocked today if there were not leaks after every rain. It doesn't matter where in the building. There will be water penetrating and finding its way passed layers of deteriorated roof decking, through insulation, and down the lines of metal joists.
Patch after patch after patch of new materials to repair existing leaks only to push the water somewhere else.
The guy that fixes the roof gives us a successful final product; his patches always work. But the water moves along and finds a new place to penetrate through the ceiling. I can't help but laugh at our feeble efforts as gravity pulls and the water finds its way down.
So I arrive at church and begin listening for leaks. You see, you can't see them at first, the leaks. It takes time for the paint to bubble and sag. When the water passes through the drywall and paint layers it comes through one droplet at a time. So I listen for the sound.
The concrete floor covered by a thin layer of worn Berber carpet stops the water from penetrating any further. Plip, plip, plip, plip.
My frustration? I'm trying to get over it, but it's hard.
You see, my degree from A&M was a Bachelor of Environmental Design. It's a bit of a misnomer. Today we say "environmental;" we typically think about green things, hybrid cars, stewardship of natural resources, or solar power. But in this case "environmental" means the human environment. It means human spaces that we play in, sleep in, eat in, work in, these environments that we live in.
I don't expect you to fully understand my dilemma and frustration about the roof. You don't work here everyday. And even if you did we each value environment differently.
We've talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, and discussed.
And each time we talk, it becomes clearer and clearer that we are afraid. Talking about it is easy. When it comes to taking the risks for radical infrastructure change at All Saints, fear governs our thoughts and actions (really our inaction.) More specifically, fear of failure traps our imaginations of what God is calling us to do.
What if we take this action and no one supports us? What if we take that action and we spend a lot of money? Where will this money come from?
And I stand here asking the question, "What if we do nothing?"
You see I don't know the answers to those other questions. But I do know the answer to the question that I ask. If we do nothing, then God's house will become desolate and uninhabitable. We will reach a point in which we will have no resources to even patch anymore. And the future state will be worse than the current one.
When will we do something? When will God's house be important enough for us to break through our fear of cost? Why aren't we more afraid of paralysis and of doing nothing than doing somethin? Like the Parable of the Talents are we more afraid of taking a risk than burying our treasure in the dirt. Go back and look at the Lord's judgement of that servant who buried his talent in the dirt. (Matthew 25.14-30)
We are not that Wicked Servant.
We are All Saints Episcopal Church. We have a history of Resurrection. We are the heirs of pioneering Christians who landed at 605 Dulles Avenue and said, "God wants a church right here."
God still wants a church right here! And he has commissioned you to take the risks forward. He has given you the talents that you need to invest in the future for All Saints.
On November 12 we are meeting to talk again about the future of All Saints. No more talking! Let's make decisions. Let's make a plan and timeline for what we know God is calling us to do. If that idea makes you afraid, don't be afraid. For the one who has given us the vision for God's House is faithful. He will walk us through every step of the way. And at the end we'll hear those words we long to hear:
Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.
