Keeping the Faith
More than two years ago, we had our first dinner-dance fundraiser, celebrating the unification of St. Paul’s Church in Bergen and the Church of the Incarnation. That first party and the one that followed a year later were such good times, filled with good food, music and dancing, much laughter, and some pretty nifty prizes, too. We had expected to continue this new tradition in June, but, as with so much else, the pandemic got in the way, forcing us to postpone our event until the danger passes.
At this year’s event, we were planning to celebrate two significant milestones in the long history of the two congregations that God has woven into our one church. This year marks both the 160th anniversary of St. Paul’s and the 110th anniversary of Incarnation! Unfortunately, we won’t get to party together anytime soon. However, we can still reflect on our long history, giving thanks for our spiritual forebears, and drawing inspiration and courage from them as we face our troubled times and an uncertain future.
As with any long-standing institutions, there is plenty of good and not so good in our history. I often think of the split that happened at St. Paul’s, not long after its founding, when many people left to start St. John’s over on Summit Avenue. That exodus left St. Paul’s in a somewhat fragile state for decades (though it probably also saved our beautiful wooden church from the wrecking ball). There is also the deeply shameful and profoundly disturbing story of how all of the Episcopal churches in Jersey City made Black people feel unwelcome, encouraging them to start a church of their own. It was a grave sin that necessitated the creation of Incarnation – a profound example of what God does all the time: transforming death into abundant new life.
There have been times when our pews were packed with young and old alike, and the church calendar was full of social and spiritual events. And there have been days when people became scarce, and money and hope seemed to be running out, leading some to wonder just how much of a future we had left. Finally, there has been the miracle of the last few years. The people of Incarnation took the bold step of leaving their longtime spiritual home, making a journey that may have seemed like just a few city blocks but actually required overcoming the great distance caused by bad history. By God’s grace, we have experienced a union that somehow feels to me like a reunion, a restoration of the way we were always meant to be.
Often, when I need to make an entry into our parish register, I take a little time to flip through the pages, trying to imagine all of those baptisms, weddings, and funerals from years gone by. I think of how each of those entries is a slowly fading remembrance of joy or sadness. Most of all, each entry is a memorial of faith. Our spiritual forebears knew hard times, made plenty of mistakes, and were no better than we are at seeing the future. Yet, through good times and not so good, our church mothers and fathers kept the faith.
Since I have been associated with St. Paul’s for so long now, I don’t have to turn through too many pages of the register before I start recognizing a few family names, people I’ve heard of, and whose legacies are still alive. As I move deeper into the book, I start seeing the names of those I’ve had the privilege of knowing and people I get to pray with to this day. I always love to see the signatures of Frank Carr and Dave Hamilton, two of my predecessors and great friends, who both helped to shape and nurture my vocation. And then, even after more than seven years as rector, it still amazes me and touches my heart when I get to the last few pages in our big, old book and see my signature over and over, just the latest in a long line of clergy who’ve had the privilege of serving in this holy place.
Together, all of us are part of this story, a combined 270 years of prayer and ministry in Jersey City! Just like those who went before us, our life together has been and will be a mix of joy and sorrow, with a fair number of mistakes and failures. The future is uncertain and often frightening, but I take courage knowing that our spiritual forebears have walked ahead of us. With God’s help, those imperfect people kept the faith. And so will we.
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