July this past summer on the prairies was nothing less than a 'scorcher.' The humidex reading reached an all-time high, and many church buildings became like hot furnaces. Much to our relief, as my wife and I entered one such church on a Sunday in July, we were escorted downstairs into a much cooler church basement for worship.

No robed choirs or processions that Sunday. No soothing organ refrains. No beautiful stained glass windows to ponder. No gracefully adorned altar and sanctuary, and certainly no high back church pews to retreat into. All of the familiar was suddenly replaced with the unfamiliar, and … surprise! surprise! everyone survived amazingly well.

A music stand from upstairs served as a make-shift lecturn and pulpit. The church choir, in summer street clothes, gathered around an aging piano to help a volunteer pianist who 'played by ear' become familiar with the music for the day. A parish hall table cloth and with a white table cloth served as the altar. The parish priest seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself wending his way around the chairs, informally welcoming people. At the approximate time, he draped a green stole over his clerical shirt, and Sunday morning worship began.

The informality of this basement service was truly refreshing in a spiritual way, and as with most spiritual experiences, one is at a loss for words. The beautiful simplicity of sitting there, experiencing a sense of openness and spiritual communion with those around me, touched my inner spiritual being in a new way. It was that feeling for being gathered as a real faith community of brothers and sisters in Christ. Perhaps it was also God prompting me to continue, in my travels as Ambassador, encouraging parishioners to discover the heart of Christian community by coming together in small household fellowship groups during the week for prayer, praise, sharing, and growing in one's faith journey.

Certainly, this catacomb experience caused me to think back to the very early church. I suspect that those early Christians felt a real spiritual bonding in worship. After all, from what I have read, church buildings didn't come into existence until the end of the second century. Our forebears were not preoccupied with church buildings, nor did they see their identity tied up in costly structures. It seems that they gathered for worship informally in homes, out in the open air, or on the street. Paul encouraged someone to bring hymns, another to bring a message, someone else to bring some basic Christian instruction, another a message in tongues with interpretation, or another a prophecy.

The church leaders for those early days were seen as being nothing more than 'uneducated laymen' (Acts 4:13) but any cursory reading of Acts reveals faith communities manifesting a spiritual dynamism we as modern day pilgrims would do well to recover.

Sometimes I wonder how really ready we modern day Christians are for any changes in our safe and all too familiar worship style. There still lingers on that expectation that everything on Sunday morning will be over and done with in one hour. Where I have seen church growth and renewed parish life, however, I have encountered Anglican parishes becoming very sensitive to the norms and needs of those in the surrounding culture, creating user-friendly access to those who are looking in. Such emerging churches reveal a clear shared ministry between clergy and lay on Sunday morning, and throughout the week. Evangelism and social action are high priorities, and are seen as two blades or a pair of scissors. Traditional and contemporary music are sensitively blended. Youth voices are being heard, and youth are seen as the church of today, and the leaders of tomorrow. Divine healing is being restored to its right and proper place within the body of the church on Sunday morning, and the gifts of the Spirit are being given freedom to be manifested. Invariably, the magical one hour is such settings is disappearing.

One that Sunday in July, I witnessed the ministry of a priest who had come to grips with servant leadership, a true indicator of an alive and growing parish. You could best describe him as a 'talent scout,' helping his parishioners discover their respective gifts for ministry, and then releasing them to actually do ministry. Lay people offered their gifts at various times during the service. It all revealed the effective transformational style of parish leadership with ARM encourages in its LTIs.

At the close of the service, we were encouraged to place a thank offering in the tin box on the makeshift altar. This was designed to replenish the church's food bank ministry. This church knows only too well that the church which lives to itself will, in fact, eventually die to itself. It was indeed a July Sunday I will not soon forget!

- Blessings, Bishop Malcolm Harding.

Bishop Malcolm is the ambassador of ARM Canada and was formerly the Episcopal bishop of the diocese of Brandon.

The Rt. Rev. Malcolm Harding
Episcopal Visitor to ARM