The Dean's Annual Report

January 31, 2016

Dominic Barrington's address to the congregation at its 182nd Annual Meeting on Sunday, January 31, 2016.

As you have probably guessed from the large clue contained in the name of my younger son, I have a great fondness for Charles Schulz’s timeless, wonderful cartoon stripPeanuts. And today I am reminded of one strip when Linus’ big sister Lucy is reading out the verse inside a Valentine’s card that says:

“Roses are red,
Violets are bluey,
A year of your life
Has just gone ker-plooey!”

Well, I want to say I’m reminded of the strip, only because for me, and for my family, and – I very much hope – for all of you, I hope it isn’t true! For Alison, for Benedict, for Linus (as in our Linus) that’s certainly not the case – this has been the most eventful and fascinating year we have lived, probably in our entire lives.

It was over a year ago, in June, 2014, that I was, shall we say, nosing around Chicago. I was nosing around Chicago because, in the wake of Joy’s retirement, several clergy friends, both in the US and in England, had said to me that they thought I would be really well suited to serve as Dean of St James’ Cathedral, and so I had carved out 36 hours on a trip to the US, just to see if I could get a sense of whether this was crazy, or whether it had some bite of realism to it.

And, as part of my nosing, I had contacted the Bishop’s office, just to see if there was any chance that anyone might meet me for a very informal conversation, and, as a direct result, I found myself having breakfast with that ultimately insightful friend of us all, Jim Steen. And, as you would expect, over a conversation that was ever so gently and kindly phrased, Jim kind of opened me up with the precision of a top surgeon, peered inside, and then sewed me up, leaving me as good as new.

And at the end of this process, he told me that the Chapter of this fine cathedral had decided that the Search Committee was not to consider any candidates from overseas, because, so they had realized, they would be too expensive and time-consuming. “But,” said Jim, “I’m going to tell them they are wrong!”

Well – the rest, so to speak, is history. And, of course, the Chapter wasn’t wrong in recognising that an overseas candidate would, indeed, be both expensive and time-consuming. In fact, I rather suspect that, if anything, it had underestimated the factors of both time and money that an appointment such as this would involve. But I am glad that Jim persuaded the Chapter and the Search Committee that such factors should not be allowed to limit the search that was undertaken.

And so, as I say, the rest is history, and here I am – your Dean of all of four and a half months.

Now the point of a report or speech such as this, properly understood, is to be a report on the year that has passed, and possibly to flag up some pointers for the year that is now unfolding by way of a postscript. You will realize, therefore, that there is not too much that I can say, and I fully expect that in the years to come this report will therefore take somewhat longer to ive than will be the case this year.

For, as you all know, I only arrived in August of 2015, and only properly started work after my installation on the eve of the great feast we call Holy Cross Day. So there is much of 2015 on which I cannot report, although I have heard much about it. I recognize that the period since Joy retired has been a complex one, and that the events of December 2014 in particular, cause a good deal of destabilization and distress, which had quite an impact on 2015. But, in truth, they are not events to which it would be appropriate for me to speak, and I do not intend to do so in this context.

For my part, there are just a few things I want to say – indeed, just a few things I am properly able to say – about 2015. And the first is to stress as loudly and clearly as I can how deeply, how profoundly grateful I am to so many, many people, simply for enabling me to be here and serve as your dean.

That such an invitation was ever made still feels remarkable to me, and my indebtedness to the Search Committee and to last year’s Chapter, let alone to Jim and to Bishop Lee, is enormous. And, the Call having been made and accepted, many more “thank yous” are due to everyone who helped the long, expensive and complex process of transition from a rather unknown English town, to this major city of the United States. The hospitality and generosity of so many people have been over-whelming.

And, both in my own right, and also on your behalf, I want to thank Jim Steen again, wearing his other hat (and no – I don’t mean the one that Timm Holt created for him for the gala in October), the hat of being Acting Dean for eight months. For I am profoundly conscious of all that Jim did amongst you in this role – and, in particular, for his creating the most wonderful staff team that any incoming Dean or Rector could ever wish for. The collegiality, competence and care that I have experienced on the second floor, day by day and week by week, has been second to none, and I am grateful beyond words for each day that I get to work with such superb colleagues, all of whom bring skill and dedication to their ministry here at St James.

But ministry in any church community is not just the work of those who are ‘staff’. A large church is a complex organisation, and there is a myriad of others to whom I offer my thanks, both personally, and on behalf of the cathedral community as a whole. I am not going to list out everyone, because if I do, inevitably, someone will be overlooked. But I am also not going to list out everyone, because everyone here has a role to play, and almost everyone takes their role faithfully and seriously.

So, as Claudius says, both wisely and succinctly, in one of the opening scenes of Hamlet, “To all, our thanks!”

But let me say also just a little about the change that I have experienced by coming to work here. Let me, if I may, offer just the tiniest ‘compare and contrast’ about life and ministry in the Church of England and in The Episcopal Church, and I do so not as an academic exercise, but to try and explain ever so slightly why I am like I am – and why I may be getting some things wrong, or at least, why I may be hitting the target rather obliquely!

There are, of course, many similarities both between the Church of England and The Episcopal Church, and also between my former parish where I served as rector for twelve years, and St James Cathedral. There are also some profound differences. Amongst the similarities are the fact that my former Sunday morning consisted of three services remarkably similar in feel to the three regular Sunday morning services here. Amongst the differences are the way in which much of my time in England was devoted to baptizing, marrying and burying for families who literally had no contact with the church whatsoever.

One commentator on the current situation in the Anglican Communion remarked that it was odd that The Episcopal Church was being accused of being liberal with its understanding of marriage, when here, it is required by canon law that one party to a marriage be baptized. In England, canon law requires that the wedding happen, even if the priest is aware that, for instance, one party is Muslim and the other Buddhist! More pertinently to this morning, perhaps, is that in England about 80 funerals each year would cross my desk – here the number is a tiny fraction of that.

I want to remark on two particular differences that may help you understand the way in which I am still, to some extent, navigating an unfamiliar landscape. The first is that, like all parochial priests in England, I worked from home. My office was in my rectory, and was 30 seconds walk from the door of my church. 90% of my congregation lived within a walk or a very short drive, and most of my pastoral work happened by visiting people in their own homes. My contact with my colleagues – and far fewer of them were salaried colleagues – was mainly at acts of worship (of which I normally attended at least two per day), and my working environment was on my own, save for Alison’s presence in the house on those days she was not at work herself.

Compare that to the fact that I commute to work in an office environment, and that the majority of you do not live particularly close to the cathedral, and that I have entered one home for pastoral reasons since September, and you will rapidly perceive a major difference in style and practice – one which I freely admit I am not sure that I have yet fully understood.

I’m also struck by a notable difference about the ideas of money and membership between what I have been used to, and what is the case over here. The need for regular, committed church members to pledge is universal, and is the case just as much in England as with The Episcopal Church. Indeed, given the size of the endowment at St James, the need in England was arguably the more pressing.

However, there is a much clearer sense of membership over here – you should remember that the Church of England, as an established church, has a more obvious sense of duty to its non-members. The majority of my former parishioners pledged to my former parish, although the sums, in the main, would have been smaller, reflecting a different socio-economic reality. But, in effect, in England, people pledge to the diocese, and it is the diocese which pays clergy salaries (all at exactly the same level!), and there is a very different feel about the way in which a congregation pays, or does not pay, the salary of its dean or rector and other staff.

How this relates to accountability, I have yet to work out. But I am reminded that Archbishop William Temple, one of the greatest church leaders of the middle of the last century, remarked that the church is the only institution which exists for the benefit of its non-members.

I say all this just to underscore for you that, in some ways I feel I belong here naturally and easily, but in other ways I am still feeling something of a fish out of water. And, where this is relevant, I know it will not excuse failings which you may perceive, but I hope that it may at least explain some of them.

So, what of the part of 2015 which I can report on? Well, as indicated above, much of it has been spent finding my feet, and working out how to make sense of a very new ministerial feel for me. I have been grateful for the kind words and commitment that has been shown to my preaching and teaching, and to the support shown for several new services which we have initiated.

I have often thought that cathedrals have a particular role to play – especially when located in a downtown environment like ours – and I have been pleased to see how readily both regular members and occasional worshipers have responded to the introduction of services like the All Souls’ Requiem and the Christmas 9 Lessons and Carols. That is one of the things we are certainly here to offer the wider community.

It has also been good to see the enthusiasm and support for educational opportunities in the Dean’s Forum slot, and this is certainly something on which I intend to build very strongly in the coming months.

There is not, really, a great deal more to say about 2015 from my perspective. But I want to say how excited I am by the opportunities I see contained in 2016, and, indeed, in the longer-term future beyond this calendar year.

As I have just said, I am keen to expand our Christian education work with adults, and I am hoping that the opportunities this Lent has to offer will be seized strongly by you all, and by others not present this morning. I want us to move from prayer into a consideration of the Eucharist and what it means to be Eucharistic people, as we move from Lent to Eastertide. In the Fall, I think we may investigate some of the consequences of being people of prayer and of the Eucharist in something that touches on Christian ethics and how we try to live out our lives today – including the political choices that we make, especially in an election year.

I also hope that we will continue both to develop the 9 a.m. liturgy as a way of inviting in younger families, in the hope that this will lead to a growth in that part of our membership, and that we will seek to explore another liturgical offering which might help us relate more clearly to the many young adults in the 20-35 bracket who live so very close to this building, but do not often pass through its doors.

And I hope that we will find ways of growing and strengthening what is currently perceived as our principal act of worship – the 11 a.m. Sunday liturgy. I have attended similar services in some of the USA’s other major downtown cities – cities which, like Chicago, are genuinely lived in, and not ghost towns once the offices close at 5 p.m. on Friday evenings.

I will say very clearly that I think our congregational numbers are poor. I cannot speak for past years, but I certainly believe that we are offering high quality worship, strong teaching, excellent music, profound pastoral care and committed social action. If you think I am wrong, I beseech you to come and tell me why, and what you think should be improved.

If you think I am right, I beseech you to tell one friend each month why St James Cathedral is the most important institution in your life, and why the hour or so you spend in it each Sunday is the most important time of your week. Episcopalians, like many Anglicans (certainly English ones) are not always good at evangelising – but unless you want to fritter this church’s endowment needlessly and foolishly, it’s time to step up to the plate!

And that leads to a two-fold challenge about what membership of a church community means. A two-fold challenge that, when the chips are down, is about time and about money. Just now I expressed thanks to lots of people whose energy helps keep us doing the things we think God is calling us to do. But, while there are, indeed, lots of people involved with life at St. James, there is always room for some more. Indeed, there are some aspects of our common life together – some aspects of which we are really rather proud – that hang on the commitment of one or two people, without whom some things would grind rather rapidly to a halt.

In England we used to say that church was like Wembley Stadium: 23 people running themselves into the ground while hundreds of others sat around and watched. Well – there’s some of that in all churches, and there’s also a strong Anglican/Episcopal sense of not being good enough that makes this more of a challenge. But you should all have in front of you a piece of paper that lists nine ministries that would flourish with more volunteers, plus that wonderful line simply marked "other". Why not make 2016 the year that you have a go? 

And related to the use of your time is the use of your money. I’d been thinking we’d done really rather well in last fall’s stewardship campaign. Our annual pledge is now $300 higher than the average pledge across Province V as a whole. But then I was stunned to learn – just now, in a chance remark with Robert – that about half of our members do not pledge. I just don’t get that.

That means, without a shadow of doubt, that some of you sitting here, in the hall, taking part in this meeting – some of you do not pledge to St James Cathedral. And if that’s true, it’s pretty amazing.

Now, some of those who don’t pledge give gifts to the cathedral – some of which may be very generous indeed. But gifts on the plate do not allow us to budget responsibly for life and growth in our mission and our ministries. So, if that applies to you this morning, please stop giving and start pledging– that way we all know what we are about, and we can function so much more effectively.

But, of course, there are those who don’t pledge, and who don’t really give in any significant way. And that’s really very extraordinary. Over the years, I’ve heard many excuses and objections as to why people don’t pledge or give to their church: they have loads in the bank, they don’t need my money; I’ve had a pay freeze this year, so I can’t afford to give; the church is homophobic – or racist or misogynist or anything else, so I’m not giving until it repents; and even (although this is so hard to believe!), I don’t like the Dean, and I don’t agree with what he wants to do.

Well, let me just say that while I like all of you, and I really try and love all of you (which is much more important – I don’t think God is very concerned about whether we like each other), and while I recognize that the church is made up of sinful humans that have all sorts of prejudices and foibles, and while it is true that this particular church is well endowed financially…that does not let you off the hook. And if you don’t pledge to the church to which you claim you belong, you are simply putting a larger millstone of a burden around the neck of your neighbour in the pew – and you are sinning. So there’s a bit of a challenge for all of us!

And related, even to that challenge, are issues about what we do with our money. After substantial work of a focussed and realistic kind, the Finance Commission and Chapter are clear that this year’s budget will not be balanced. By this I mean that it will draw more than 5% down from our endowment. I don’t like this – spending an endowment is fine if it is purposeful and missional, but this is just short-term expediency. But it is what we have to do this year, and the reason for it is contained in recent history that does not need to be re-rehearsed.

But the Chapter joins me in an aspiration that this is the last year for which this should or will be the case in the foreseeable future. And the Chapter also joins me in an aspiration that a fund that is entitled the Tithing Fund – and which most recently was used to cover the cost of the Dean Search, which was higher than it might have been (sorry, guys!) – that this fund returns to its original purpose of being used for a tithe to support charities that help build the kingdom of God.

Many of you know I’ve just returned from a week in the Holy Land, where I had the privilege of giving the Episcopal Archbishop a check for $1,000 from the offering at my installation, and of handing over $3,000 to the work of the ever impoverished crèche in Bethlehem. My hope and my intention is that gifts of this kind, whether local, national or international will become an inbuilt part of our mission. So that’s another challenge!

The most substantial challenge, however, even if it is not one for this calendar year, concerns our fabric. I arrived to find St. James in scaffolding, and the organ dismantled. The scaffolding is gone, and the organ sounds fine to most ears – but these are short-term solutions, as you probably are aware. Add to that the fact that the roof has probably no more than ten years left in it, and was made from cheap but regrettably short-term materials. And add to that the fact that the refurbishment of the Commons building was done around, and not including the cathedral building.

And then add to that the complex questions about whether the cathedral is really most suitably laid out and ordered for delivering both liturgy and other events in 2016 and on into this century.

These raise big questions which will need to be addressed. That process will certainly start in 2016, but we may need more than a year to assemble all the answers, let alone a plan that shows what we will do when we have the answers.

And I say now, by way of manifesto, if you like, that when it comes – as it certainly will – to the matter of a capital campaign, it is plain to me that it must be a campaign which both helps preserve the best of the past (we don’t want the cathedral stonework to collapse), but which also looks to the needs of the church for the future. Let me say clearly that on my watch, this cathedral church isn’t going to fall down – but more than that, you and I together, we are going to make it a cathedral church we are proud to hand on to my successor and yours.

That’s going to be a truly exciting challenge, and leaves much for the Chapter, and the wider congregation to ponder, to pray about, and to put into effect as months turn into years. I hope that all of you are up for this challenge, and for all the challenges God in his kindness gives us, to help us mature, to help us grow, to help us live more fully for Christ.

Thank you for the trust you have placed into my hands by calling me to be your Dean. I’m glad – indeed, I’m over-joyed to be here, and I’m profoundly excited by the kind of future to which I think God is calling you and me to bring into being. I hope you will join me in working together for the fulfilment of that reality, whatever it may prove to be.

Thank you.