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Psalm 118:
21-24
February 28, 2010
OUR MEETINGHOUSE AND
THE STORIES OF JESUS: This year marks the 100th anniversary of this our beloved Meetinghouse, and in this series of sermons I’ve been trying to make a connection between the architectural details of this building and the life and teachings of Jesus and what it means to be a church. One of my favorite poets is Theodore Roethke who in one of his poems said, “All finite things reveal infinitude”, and so it is with the details of this building. Each and every detail of this building should point beyond itself to what the German theologian, Paul Tillich, calls “ultimate reality.” The doors, the windows, the baptismal font, the mahogany, the gold leaf, the bell and the spire – these are more than just the stuff, the molecules, the chemicals from which they are made, but if we look at them correctly, which is to say, spiritually, they should be a visible reminder of some invisible truth. Last week we contemplated our Meetinghouse spire, no doubt the most prominent and beautiful aspect of this building, but this morning I would have us concentrate on the cornerstone, a detail of this building that is far less noticed, let alone admired than the spire that towers above our heads, and yet, in terms of the structural integrity of this building, the cornerstone is far more important than any of the other details we have discussed. As beautiful as it is, the spire would come crashing to the ground if the foundation were not what it should be. On the front cover of your bulletin this morning, you will see an old photograph that was taken on November 8, 1908. This was taken just a year and 4 months after the terrible fire of July 2, 1907 that completely destroyed the 4th meetinghouse, of which this one is a close replica. You will see in this photograph that the congregation is laying the cornerstone of this building in which we worship today. On November 8, 1908, they were not only laying the cornerstone in the Northeast corner of this building, but also they were dedicating the completion of that part of our Parish House that we now call, “The Sheffield Auditorium.” Just think of it, in only 16 months, the congregation at that time not only grieved for the loss of their meetinghouse, they not only regrouped and figured out what they would build in its place, but also they built themselves a Parish House, a beautiful room in which they would be able to worship and hold Sunday School while their new Meetinghouse was under construction! A remarkable achievement for only 16 months! On July 3rd, 1907, the day after the terrible fire, a member of our church, a man by the name of Mr. Lay was digging around in the ruins to see if he could find the old cornerstone of the 1817 building. Finally, in the midst of the rubble, using a crowbar, he found a copper plate which was part of the time capsule that had been placed in the cornerstone of that building. And by the way, I would call your attention to his name – Mr. Lay, maybe Daniel Lay. It was from his name that we came to call that end of town “Laysville.” One of the things that I love about our church history is to see the names of those from the past that have been incorporated into the names for the places and the streets of our community today. If you ever wondered where places such as Laysville Hardware or Coult Lane, or Griswold Point or McCurdy Lane or Matson Ridge or Beckwith Lane got their names, all you need to do is look at the names of those who occupied our church pews 100 or 200 or 300 years ago. I like to think of them as “the Living Stones” on which the church of today was built. On Thursday of this week I will lead 32 members and friends of our church on our next Tree of Life Journey to Israel and the occupied territory of Palestine. Over in the Holy Land, as you can imagine, there are lots and lots of old buildings, with one civilization building its towers and walls on top of the ruins of an old civilization. I love how the spiritual leaders over there admonish visitors such as ourselves to come and see not only the ancient buildings – the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the Western Wall, the Al Aqsa Mosque -- but also what they call the “living stones” – the individuals, the voices of conscience, the Jews, Christians and Muslims, those on whom someday a new and more peaceful civilization might be built, one in which all might live together in peace and prosperity. So it is in how we should think of ourselves as a church. Our meetinghouse is beautiful, but we the members of this church need to be even more beautiful. Our meetinghouse is wonderful but in our ministry and missions, we need to be even more wonderful. Our meetinghouse was exquisitely designed, but the human spirit that Jesus embodied and that we are called to emulate is even more exquisitely designed. So, on that chilly November morning of November 8, 1908 as they laid the cornerstone for this building, what the people at that time were really doing was rededicating themselves as the “living stones” on which the church of today would be built, and the cornerstone was but a physical reminder of what is spiritually most important. If the cornerstone is of critical importance in the structural integrity of this building, the life and teachings and the spirit of Jesus are the cornerstone of what we are as a church. On the day of November 8, 1908, they placed “a heavy, covered copper box with data from the old church “building”, plus items about the new building, including the names of the Committee, architect and builders.” But I wonder if they might have put in some other things as well, and as you look at this old photograph, place yourself in the position of those who were there. What were their prayers for the laying of the cornerstone? What were their hopes and dreams for the future of our church, and if they had been requested to write something to be included in that copper box and placed in the cornerstone, if you had been in their position, what would you have written? This morning as a tribute to those who were present for the laying of the cornerstone, I would have us use our imagination. If I were somehow able add something to the time capsule, these are some of the verses from the bible that I would want to add in honor of some of the remarkable people, the “living stones” who made this Meetinghouse possible. Somewhere in the crowd that day there was a man by the name of Allan Talcott, maybe an ancestor to one of you, and if he is, you should feel very proud of him. Whenever there is a crisis, there are always at least 2 kinds of people. Inevitably, there are always the escapees, those who run away, those who jump ship, those who say, “why me, O Lord”, and do absolutely nothing to be of assistance, but then are others, those who seem to be galvanized by a crisis, those who maybe had been off on the periphery when times were good, but then when there is turbulence, they are the ones who seem to exude a certain calmness of spirit, those who step forward and say, “what can I do to be of help?” On that terrible morning of Wednesday, July 3, 1907, on the day after the fire, I’m sure there were probably a few of those who didn’t measure up to what it means to be a “living stone”, those who took a look at the embers of the fire, put 2 and 2 together and rightfully came to the conclusion that here was a church in which some serious fundraising was going to be required, and so on the following Sunday, July 7th, they decided that they would start attending some other church. “No hard feelings”, no doubt, they said as they said farewell, “but we need to do what’s best for our family. This was a beautiful meetinghouse, to be sure, but now it’s time for us to move on. After all, our serenity and the religious education of our children is of paramount importance, and frankly, I don’t want to put that on hold for however long it takes to figure out what needs to be done.” The spirit that Allan Talcott exemplified was the very antithesis of this spirit. The fire was on Tuesday night at Midnight. On Wednesday, the congregation had a prayer service on the front lawn where they dedicated themselves to the rebuilding of their meetinghouse, and then on Thursday morning, over at the Parsonage, which is diagonally across the street, Allan Talcott knocked on the front door. The minister – The Rev. Edward Mortimer Chapman -- opened the door to see someone that perhaps he didn’t know very well, for this man was not a member of The First Congregational Church of Old Lyme. He had attended services here but was actually a member of a beautiful church up in Hartford, the Asylum Hill Congregational Church. Maybe he had recently retired, or maybe he had taken on new employment down here on the shoreline – I don’t know -- but whatever it was, he found himself spending more and more time here in Old Lyme, and so on the Thursday morning after the fire, Allan Talcott knocked on the door of parsonage to say that “he was at the minister’s disposal for any service he could render.” (From “The Stone of Help”, p. 7, by The Rev. E.M. Chapman) I find that pretty remarkable, and I think of it not only as a complement to Allan Talcott but also a complement to the Asylum Hill Church, for his generous spirit is a reflection on the congregation from which he had come. Obviously, what was preached and taught up there was being carried out by this “living stone” by the name of Allan Talcott. “What can I do to be of help?” And not only that, but also, unsolicited he made a very generous contribution toward the building of this Meetinghouse, and as a sign of solidarity he told the minister that he wanted to become a member of this church. Human Nature, being what it is, Mr. Talcott might very well have stayed away, but the Human Spirit being what it is, Mr. Talcott said, “Here am I; put me to work.” So, in honor of this “living stone” by the name of Allan Talcott I would want to put into the time capsule of the cornerstone the story of Simon of Cyrene. On the day that Jesus was crucified, on the day in which Jesus was carrying a big heavy cross through the streets of Jerusalem, there were very few that wanted to be seen with him, fearing for their lives, fearing that they might be guilty by association, and so they ran away or pretended they didn’t know him. But there was a stranger in town that day, someone who was not a disciple of Jesus, and yet he saw how Jesus was laboring under the heavy load of the cross, and so he stepped in and he took the cross upon his own shoulders. Simon of Cyrene. Blessed are those who exemplify not Human Nature at its worst with all of its narcissism, selfishness and ego-centricity, but blessed are those who exemplify the Human Spirit at its very best, those who in the midst of fires and disasters and crucifixions step in to say, “how can I be of help?” … those who shoulder more than their fair share of the cross. Somewhere in the crowd that day, as they laid the cornerstone of this building, there was a man by the name of Allan Talcott who took a look at that stone and said to himself, “I would like to be a “living stone” on which the future of this church can be built.” Allan Talcott, for me, represents how important newcomers and new members are to the vitality of a church. As a church that has been around for almost 350 years, for newcomers it’s sometimes hard for them to know how or even if they would be welcome, and whether or not they have something to offer. May Allan Talcott remind us that yes, blessed are those whose families have been around for 350 years, but blessed also are those who have been here for only 5 minutes! All are important, for all of us are the living stones on which the church of the future will be built. If I were placing items in the time capsule of the cornerstone on Nov. 8, 1908, I would also want to include a tribute to the old families that had been here for generations. One of those was a neighbor who lived directly across the street, a very strong minded woman by the name of Evelyn McCurdy Salisbury. Her ancestor was John McCurdy and he and the minister of this church, Stephen Johnson back in the 18th century wrote the very first letters against the stamp act that were published in the New London Gazette, the predecessor to the New London Day. To those of you who live in Old Lyme, you know that the name of Evelyn McCurdy Salisbury is a name that is synonymous with education in this community, for in 1893, she established a scholarship fund that has come to be known as the Evelyn McCurdy Salisbury Foundation, a Foundation that has made it possible for a countless number of young people of this community to go to college. She was also a benefactor of our local library, and she would also be one of the very first members of this church to make a financial contribution toward the building of this meetinghouse. Born in 1823, Evelyn McCurdy Salisbury would have been 84 years of age at the time of the fire in 1907, and she was living in New Haven at the time where her husband had been a distinguished professor at Yale University. Nevertheless, this was the place that she called home, and if you ever wondered about the very different chimneys on the house across the street, well those were chimneys that this very capable woman had brought over from England. While she was in England, I understand that she had an audience with Queen Victoria, but being the strong minded, opinionated, liberated woman that she was, she refused to follow the usual protocol and she refused to curtsy or back out of the room in a subservient fashion. Look out for the women of this community; they’ve always been a force to be reckoned with! Living across the street as she did, I can only imagine the shock and sadness she must have felt when in New Haven, she learned about how her beloved neighbor, our beautiful Meetinghouse had been burned to the ground. Long before there was email and text messages and back in the day when snail mail moved..well, much faster than snails, very quickly Evelyn McCurdy Salisbury wrote a letter to the church that she asked to have read at the congregational meeting that was to be held on the Sunday after the fire. This meeting was called for 4 o’clock on Sunday, July 7th. Prayers were offered by The Rev. Edward Chapman, and then everyone sang the hymn, “How Firm A Foundation.” Then he read a letter from this woman, one of the great matriarchs of community. In this letter she offered her prayers and her sympathy, but she also enclosed a check, a check in the amount of $2000. Now, to fully appreciate the magnitude of this gift, we need to understand that the total cost for the building of this Meetinghouse would prove to be about $40,000, and so what she gave was about 5% of what would be needed. But also, if you were to calculate what $2000 would be worth today, I think it would be safe to say that probably it would be worth about $100,000. Now, I can only imagine how wonderful that must have felt to the minister at that time, and what a tremendous boost of encouragement that must have given to the congregation! Only just a few days after the fire, long before architectural decisions would be made, long before budgets and contracts would be worked out, the burning timbers and molten metal had only just begun to cool, and you’re standing out on the front lawn of what used to be one of the most beautiful Meetinghouses in all of New England, and you open up a letter of condolence from one of the oldest and most respected members of your church, and it includes an unsolicited contribution of what today would be worth about $100,000! That’s the kind of leadership that our congregational ancestors exemplified, and that surely is what it means to be a “living stone”, those who put their money where their theology is, those for whom faith is not just a ephemeral, elusive kind of sentimentality, but an investment in the future, and Evelyn McCurdy Salisbury believed in the future, and especially I think she believe in the future children and future grandchildren of this community, and so she gave and she gave generously not only to this church and the library but also to the foundation that now proudly bears her name. And so, if I had been there on November 8, 1908 for the laying of the cornerstone, I would also want to enclose in the time capsule a tribute to this woman, and to do so, I think I would include the story of how in the Gospel According to Luke it speaks of Jesus as a 12 year old, saying that he “increased in wisdom and in stature, and in favor with God and with humanity.” I love those words for they seem to suggest that Jesus himself was educated; Jesus himself learned from the great philosophers and wisdom keepers of his day; he read the ancient texts; he studied the prophets and he memorized the psalms and as a result he “increased in wisdom and in stature.” Now, my question is an obvious one: if Jesus needed that sort of education, how much more important then is it for the rest of us? Thank God for the leaders of our congregation, past and present. Thank God for those who put a high priority on the education of our children. Thank God for our congregational ancestors who stood behind our schools, public and private. Thank God for the living stones of this community, past and present, those who make it possible for us all to “grow in stature and in wisdom.” While there were many others, I’m sure, who were more than worthy of being remembered in this sermon on the “Living Stones” of our congregation, I would be remiss if I didn’t include a man who exemplified absolutely extraordinary leadership at that time, namely my counterpart, the minister at that time, The Rev. Edward Mortimer Chapman. As I look around our community I don’t see any street or building that is named in his honor, and perhaps that was a mistake, and so maybe we ought to consider naming this driveway next to our Meetinghouse “Chapman Drive” (with emphasis upon the word “drive”) for surely without his extraordinary leadership, his exceptional drive this Meetinghouse either would not have been built or it wouldn’t have been built as well as it was. Edward Chapman was a native of Old Saybrook “where his ancestors were original settlers”, and so I am quite sure that he would have known that one of the most glorious views of our Meetinghouse spire was from across the river. If you were to go out to Saybrook Point, looking across the river on a clear day with a blue sky, you would see our beautiful spire in all of its glory. On November 1, 1906 there was a meeting of our church to vote on whether to invite Edward Chapman to be the minister of this church. Having been in that situation myself, I know what it’s like to wait and wait for the deliberations to be completed to find out what your destiny will be. For me, it was also in the month of November and I remember so well how Corinne and I went for a walk while the search committee deliberated and deliberated and deliberated some more. We walked out on a large field behind the Boxwood where there is a beautiful open, clear view of our Meetinghouse spire. That was in 1975, and to this day I can still feel the hope and the anxiety of that cool November night. So, I can easily imagine Edward Chapman going out to Saybrook Point and looking across the water at what was then our 4th Meetinghouse, and I can easily imagine him saying a prayer, “if this is where I’m going to be, may God give me the strength to offer a ministry over there that will be equal to the majesty of that spire.” That was on November 1, 1906, and little did he know at that time the challenges he would face in a very short period of time, only about 8 months later. I have here a book that Edward Chapman wrote in 1904, entitled The Dynamic of Christianity. I’d like to read a sentence from this book that seems quite prophetic in terms of what he would experience in his ministry here only just a few years later. This is what he writes: The things the hands build are made of wood, hay and stubble, as well as of silver and gold. The day will declare the quality of the structure, and the Spirit is patient. (p. 192) The only thing I might change is to suggest that the Spirit is both patient but also sometimes impatient, and to my mind, Edward Mortimer Chapman exemplified both noble qualities of the spirit, both a remarkable ability to be calm under pressure, an ability to work through all the many meetings and details necessary to build this magnificent structure, never ramrodding anything through, always trying to build consensus, always giving the members of the church the opportunity to share their thoughts and ideas, but also he exemplify an amazing and almost invisible impatience. Seven months into his tenure here, the beautiful beloved Meetinghouse that he had admired from over in Old Saybrook was now in ruins, and it would fall to him to provide the spiritual leadership necessary to bring all those “living stones” together to build this building and to build a church that would be worthy of the name of Jesus. And this is what Edward Mortimer Chapman did, and this building in which we worship today is a testament to his spirit. So, I would also want to include in the time capsule of our cornerstone a passage from scripture that reminds me of Edward Chapman’s strength of spirit. I would include those words of St. Paul where he says, “I can do all things in Christ who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13) I can only imagine the anxieties and the worries and the self-doubt he must have had as he had to deal with so many issues so early in his ministry here, and so I can easily imagine him saying these words to himself, not so much as a boast of arrogance but more of a prayer of reassurance, “I can do all things in Christ who gives me strength.” After the service today, I would invite you to go outside, and while you might be tempted to look up at our glorious spire, and that would be ok if you did; you would be in some very good company. But also go over to the northeast corner of this building and offer a prayer of gratitude for the cornerstone of this building. May that cornerstone remind you of the life and teachings of Jesus, and may it also remind you of all the “living stones” who have come before us, all those who have aligned themselves with the spirit that Jesus exemplified, and as we look back at the past, may this lead us to rededicate ourselves to being the “living stones” on which someday a church, a congregation, a community of faith might be built that would be the equal and even more than the equal to this beautiful building. The day will declare the quality of the structure, and the Spirit is patient…. … and impatient. Amen.
David W. Good Old Lyme, Connecticut
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