Unconventional Wisdom:
Getting it right by going against the grain

By the REV. DAVID C. KILLEEN

Editor’s Note: This is the first in a series of articles ENY will present on unconventional thinking in our parishes. Have a suggestion for us? Email eny@dioceseny.org or call 212-932-7352.

In a hallway nearby my study hangs a calendar distributed by the Church Pension Group. Each month features a cartoon by the Rev. Jay Sidebotham, a mentor and friend of mine who currently serves as rector of the Church of the Holy Spirit in Lake Forest, Illinois. A few months ago, the cartoon depicted an example of conventional wisdom, a term coined by the economist J. K. Galbraith in the 1950s for a type of knowledge that has hindered communities and organizations for a long time. Who hasn’t heard (or uttered!) the phrase “but we’ve never done it that way” at home, work or some other communal context in which change is imminent? Conventional wisdom isn’t always detrimental. It can maintain life-giving institutional stability. There may, in fact, be very good reasons why “we’ve never done it that way.” However, statements like these also just as often spring from anxiety, lack of imagination and, worse, faithlessness. It’s the last of these three that can really sink a ship.

The following are examples of unconventional wisdom taken from parishes within the Episcopal Diocese of New York. These examples of unconventional wisdom share three characteristics. First, these individuals and parishes had the courage to put aside assumptions, which is another name for conventional wisdom. Second, they listened to the needs of the community. Third, they stepped forward faithfully. Although the ideas and programs might not be replicable elsewhere, the unconventional wisdom that brought them into being can be exercised in other contexts.

“Impossible” ministry possible
About five years ago, the Rev. Douglas J. Fisher, Grace, Millbrook, noticed the influx of Latino families in Millbrook and the surrounding area. In particular, he saw the prevalence of undocumented day laborers, who would assemble at the local Stewart’s Shop in order to find work. Over the course of a few years, he spoke with members of his parish to see if others might be interested in initiating an outreach effort to the Latino families. A few lay leaders who already had ties to the Latino community signaled their interest. Fisher spoke with different consultants, but they concluded that such a ministry would be almost impossible because the area lacked any one gathering place or unifying center for the Latino community in the rural area in and around Millbrook.
Such warnings didn’t stop the parish. Grace hired Carlos Orellana of Rural and Migrant Ministry on a part-time basis to help get the ministry started. Grace began holding open meetings on summer Friday nights in 2005 in order to listen to the needs of the Latino community.

“We did a lot of listening during those summer meetings, and two major themes came out of them. First, many people felt isolated. They were often separated from their families. They missed their loved ones and the opportunity to celebrate religious and cultural holidays in a communal setting. Second, they were fearful. Many individuals were undocumented and felt like they couldn’t trust public services,” says Fisher.

In response to these concerns, Grace now holds a bi-lingual worship service at 9 a.m. on the first Sunday of each month. In addition, 175 people attended a recent fiesta to celebrate Mexican Independence Day. A special service to commemorate Our Lady of Guadalupe was also popular. Grace offers ESL classes every Tuesday and Thursday and is assisting undocumented individuals who would like to set-up bank accounts. The congregation is also beginning to advocate for undocumented immigrants in Albany, pressuring state lawmakers to ease restrictions on who can apply for driver’s licenses.

As Grace’s Latino ministry grows, Fisher is careful to point out the Anglo and Latino groups at the church are intermingling: “We didn’t want a parallel environment, with an Anglo congregation and a Latino congregation. It’s too important to be together. That’s what it means to be the Body of Christ.”

Check the time - and assumptions
Even before the Rev. Thomas Margrave came as rector of St. John’s, Cornwall, in 2004, he realized that the clock in the church’s tower didn’t work. Because of the tower’s height and the lack of other public clocks in the area, Margrave could quickly see that the clock must have been the municipal timepiece. At first, he assumed that the fully-mechanical, 1887 Seth Thomas instrument was broken, a presumption later reinforced by some other members of the parish and community, who told him that it had been out of service for several years.

However, after one of the regular Tuesday morning Men’s Bible Study sessions, Margrave and a former member of St. John’s “Clocktower Guild” climbed the spiral staircase up into the tower. Together they discovered that all that was needed to start the clock was to start the pendulum. After getting the clock going, Margrave received the unexpected help of an inactive church member who had trained with the former curator of the clock, Charles Paolini, a self-taught watchmaker.

“When I found out the clock could run,” says Margrave, “I knew it could be a beacon of hope to the community, which has changed a lot through the years. Back in the day, the church clock and local factory whistles kept time and regulated many lives in the community. Now, the factories are gone. To get the clock running again was to have at least one thing remain the same. The children of earlier generations could hear the same tolls and peals that their forbears did.”

The community response has been overwhelmingly positive, even among non-parishioners. Julia Paolini, the homebound daughter of the former curator, enjoys hearing its familiar sounds. Conversations about the clock have helped Margrave get to know the history and people of Cornwall, as well as St. John’s. “It is part of the life and heritage of the church and community,” explains Margrave. “Before we can change and move forward, we must connect with history. To go up on a regular basis and care for something that I and others are stewards of is a really special thing.”

There is no one in Manhattan in the summer
This is the conventional wisdom that the Rev. William McD. Tully heard when he became rector of St. Bartholomew’s in Manhattan in 1995. He also heard the corresponding notion that it made sense for churches to cut-back on services and programming during the summer months. But Tully had another idea, one that grew out of his observation that there were, in fact, many people in Manhattan in the summer. He also remembered an experience that he had during a sabbatical earlier in his ministry.

There are times when travel glitches can seem like Providence. Even though the Berlin Wall had already come down, a Cold War-era travel restriction cut Tully’s 1990 sabbatical in Berlin a few days short. Instead of going home, he decided to spend the last weekend of July in London. On Sunday, he visited St. Paul’s Cathedral, which, for a summer Sunday, was surprisingly filled to capacity. Tully soon found out why. For six weeks, including the Sunday that he was present, St. Paul’s principal Sunday service featured an orchestral mass setting. At a time when many churches cut back on their music programs, St. Paul’s was doing the very opposite.

In 1995 Tully was attempting to avoid the boom-and-bust cycle of nine months on, three months off typical of many churches. He and his staff were working hard to reverse the decline in membership at St. Bartholomew’s, and it seemed counterproductive to lose momentum in the summer. He proposed an initial four-week “Summer Festival of Sacred Music” which was advertised widely. On the first Sunday, the better part of the nave was full, a fact which was a huge boost to everyone at the church.

At present, the festival begins in June and ends in late September and features orchestral and choral mass settings by both classical and modern composers. Tully claims that many current members found the church through the summer series.

“Oddly enough, summertime is an ideal time to reach out to those who are ‘church shopping’. No one feels rushed and pressed. I knew before we began the series that people would come for the music, but I was genuinely surprised that people were also really looking for a church during the summer months. You have to prepare to be surprised,” says Tully.

When asked what other congregations can learn from the Summer Festival of Sacred Music, Tully replies: “When planning summer services and programs, don’t cut back. Study your own community and be open to what you find there, putting aside your assumptions. Don’t impose a new program; rather, let it be strongly connected to the past. St. Bart’s, for example, has long been known as a church with a strong music program, so the Summer Festival made sense. Whatever you do, think in terms of 52 equal Sundays.”