Once I knew I was moving down here, before I even ordered the pod, I started poking around the Internet to get an idea of what would be around my new neighborhood. Things like bike shops, grocery stores, book stores, banks, and of course, churches. The City of Alexandria has eight Episcopal churches, and there are a handful more in the part of Alexandria that's not the City. I don't fully understand the way the whole thing works, but as long as I can find my way around, for now it's not important. But getting back to churches.
Yesterday I realized that I needed to pick a church to check out today, so I went back to the Internet to look again at websites of the churches closest to the Seminary. One I already knew, since I pass it every time I turn onto Seminary Road from North Quaker Lane, Immanuel on the Hill. Looking at their website, however, I decided this wouldn't be a good Sunday to visit the parish. They welcomed their new Interim Rector this morning. The next closest, not too far up Quaker, is The Church of Saint Clement (www.saintclement.org). I noted their service times and decided to attend the 10:00 a.m. service.
I arrived at 9:55 and found plenty of parking available; I parked on the street just past the front door. A friendly usher greeted me and handed me a bulletin. I walked into the church itself to find a brightly lit altar area between two sections of pews to the right and to the left. On the other side of the altar, across from the entry doors, were the pulpit and seating for the altar party. Behind the altar hung a large tapestry of the Tree of Life, or that's what I interpreted it as. The small organ and piano were behind the pews on the right. As I moved away from the center toward the left side it felt dark, even though the lighting was plentiful. It took me a moment to realize that there was no outside light, not a single window. It's a big brick box.
The congregation appeared a lot less diverse than I'm used to except in age. There were about 45 adults and a dozen children under the age of 10 or so. I observed two people of color and no youth or young adults, other than a couple of young married couples. The children processed in behind the crucifer and another acolyte, both of whom were children. Once the altar party reached their places, the procession of children went out one of the side doors to church school. They returned after the announcements to participate in the Peace and the Eucharist. While I'm a proponent of having children in church for the entire service, I understand the reasoning of doing it this way.
The priest introduced each Scripture reading, including the Gospel. It felt more like mini sermons than brief introductions. I know there are organizations and publishers that provide short introductions for the Sunday readings, but I'm not sure if these were from one of those or his own musings. Ironically, after hearing the introductions that pretty much interpreted each reading (and hence my thinking that they might be from one of the canned sources), his sermon was about looking at the scriptures in different and unexpected ways. He spent most of his time on the reading from Acts 8 about Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch. The priest spent quite a bit of time looking at the eunuch as maybe being the equivalent of our era's gay man. He took it a bit further when he brought in the Gospel reading from John, "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower." He likened the dead and withered branches to the faggots, bundles of which were often used to burn heretics and are often thought to be the root of that particular negative word for gay men. He also pulled in upcoming General Convention legislation which could approve rites for the blessing of same sex unions.
Once again God interjects a sense of humor into my universe. On my first Sunday, making my first church visit in my new city, I land in a small, struggling, open and affirming parish.
I'm so accustomed to the way the Prayers of the People are done at Grace/Betania Norwalk that using one of the Prayer Book options (Form V in this case) came as a bit of a shock. Announcements followed the prayers and seemed to drag on forever, a case of TMI for almost every announcement. It may have been because the children were delayed in returning from church school. Once they were back, we exchanged the Peace, when went on about as long as it does at Betania/Grace. I didn't leave my pew, but several people came to greet me.
The altar is enclosed by a square altar rail in the center of the church, and people surrounded the altar to receive. People both knelt and stood to receive the bread and wine, and there were two chalices, one for those wishing to intict (dip their bread in the wine) and one for those wishing to drink. I didn't ask anyone later, but I'd be interested in learning how and why that came about. They also had bells, rung by the young crucifer. There was a communion anthem but no post communion hymn.
I resisted the urge to leave right after the service and went to coffee hour in the parish hall. At one end of the hall was a play area for the children, who seemed to know where the play area ended and the food and conversation area began. As I got my coffee the Deacon greeted me and struck up a conversation to find out what brought me to St. Clement's. She was a little taken aback when I made a point of saying that their web site had been the deciding factor for my visit. Evidently, they've been putting more effort into their Facebook and Twitter presence. She also introduced me to several other people, including the Rector. Another woman, who happened to have grown up in Connecticut, introduced herself, handed me a small round loaf of bread, and engaged me in conversation for a few minutes. When she found out I planned to visit Mount Vernon in the afternoon, she made a point of telling me to make sure to take the Parkway. (For more about my visit to Mount Vernon, check out A Connecticut Yankee in Robert E. Lee's Back Yard tomorrow.)
Would I go back? Yes, I think so. It's not Betania/Grace, but no other parish will be. And the variety of Episcopal churches here in the Diocese of Virgnia and across the river in the Diocese of Washington calls for some exploring. And I have invitations from friends to visit at least one parish here in Alexandria and two in the District. (See how quickly I picked up that phrase? It's easier for me to use than "the City," which for me is still New York City.) Just as I started working at the Seminary at the end of the academic year, I'm catching these churches on the cusp of the summer months.
I wonder where I'll end up next Sunday?
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