Elephants and kangaroosies, roosies, part 2

I am surprised to see a large blue banner on the church lawn announcing Blessing of the Animals Sunday when I drive up. Another first for me! I have heard of this type of service, and have privately thought that it seems awfully unnecessary – but still, I wanted to see one.

Why unnecessary? Well, we can ask God to bless our pets any time we want, without the bother of bringing them to church. (Of course, that reasoning could apply to lots of other things we do in church.) Still, I thought it was unnecessary mostly because the pets I have had would have been disasters in church. The dogs and cats my family has been privileged to live with were thoroughgoing homebodies, and whenever we brought them to a new place we met with very limited success in keeping them quiet, happy, and continent.

As it turned out, Episcopalian cats and dogs seem to be unexpectedly spiritual; the 20-30 animals in St. Mary’s sanctuary did quite well in church. But I’m getting ahead of the story.

I walk in and see that this is a modern sanctuary, all wood and white walls, with stained glass windows. A banner in the front has a yellow background with red tulips, and proclaims, Experience Grace.This is the second service today; the 8:00 service was the Eucharistic service, and did not include animals. Also, I notice that the rector has prepared a different sermon for each service, which seems sensible, given the nature of the second service.There are approximately 100 people in the sanctuary, which seats about 250.

The piano prelude is “Morning Has Broken,” the hymn everyone my age associates with Cat Stevens. The bulletin is very full and helpful – it even includes a map on the inside cover, showing where the nursery and restrooms are located.The first hymn is “Rise, Shine, Give God the Glory.” The pianist is very energetic, and this children’s song is really fun to sing, featuring such lyrics as “Oh, Noah, he built him, he built him an arky, arky/Built it out of gopher barky barky,” and “The animals they came on, they came on by twosies, twosies/ Elephants and Kangaroosies, roosies/ Children of the Lord.” While we sing this, people process down the center aisle – several children serving as acolytes, and a few adults dressed in white and red clerical garb.

Perhaps the festive air and all the pets distract me; I have no idea what the first words spoken in the service were. I fill out a visitor’s card to put into the offering plate, though – finally, on my third visit in this project, I’ve managed to do this one little thing!

There are occasional barks from excited visitors during the first reading, which is from Genesis 1 -- the creation of animals and humans. These canine comments are greeted with good-natured laughs from the congregation. And at intervals a large, fluffy tail sweeps back and forth over my shoes. I can’t see the dog to which it is attached, but I am enjoying this variation in my ordinary church service experience.I keep waiting for the English rector to speak, until I realize that the man in front speaking with the entirely American accent is Father Jansma. What? Had I misread the website? I will need to go back and check it again.

We read the 23rd Psalm together, and then sing “All Things Bright and Beautiful,” a famous Anglican hymn. (This one probably reminds most people of James Herriot’s novels about a Yorkshire veterinarian.) The gospel reading is from Matthew, the sermon on the mount -- the section about not worrying about food or drink or clothing, because God takes care of the birds and the flowers.

In keeping with the rest of the service, the choir is very casual. There are six women and three men, who gather around the piano to sing. The pianist is excellent, and seems to be having lots of fun.The sermon is not listed in the bulletin as a sermon, but as a talk, entitled “How to Better Love Our Animals.” Father Jansma begins by noting how odd it is that in the United States we spend billions of dollars annually on pets, and yet at the same time there is terrible animal cruelty throughout the country. He then notes that understanding our relationship to animals will lead to a deeper relationship to Jesus Christ. There are two reasons animals lead us to God: they declare God’s glory just by existing, and they show us something about the gift of love. He notes that our charge to have stewardship over the animals means that we are responsible for seeing that all animals are treated properly and kindly. He explains that we are compared to sheep in the parable of the ninety-and-nine, and this leads up to a clear, forceful, Christ-centered message about salvation. I’m impressed.

During the prayers after the sermon, we are directed to pages in the back of the bulletin. I notice that about thirty women are listed as dealing with cancer. This is troubling. Why so many? Why only women? Are they all members of this church? What is going on here?

Next, people line up in the center aisle with their pets for the animal blessing. There are about twenty or so animals, all dogs and cats. The cats must be on drugs, as they are uncannily calm. As each set of owners and pets comes to the front, Father Jansma says a prayer for both, laying hands on the animal after first checking with the owner to see if that is wise. An assistant sprinkles holy water on the pets. Someone else takes photographs. I’m not sure, but I think a little girl brings a stuffed animal up to be blessed.

It all goes very smoothly. We say our closing prayers, and sing the closing hymn, “For All the Faithful Women.” I think the hymn was chosen because this is Mother’s Day. (Is that why all those women with cancer are listed in the bulletin? That list still worries me a bit.)

Mindful of my intention to shake hands and talk to people, I file down the center aisle after the service with everyone else, and shake hands with Father Jansma. Coffee and doughnuts are available on tables in a small area immediately behind the last row of pews. I sip my coffee and engage a few pet owners in brief conversations about their pets.

Monday evening, when I returned home from work, I found that someone had left a basket filled with all kinds of good things in front of our apartment door. There was a loaf of homemade banana bread, a chocolate bar with a special wrapper over the normal wrapper (a picture of the church and the words “Welcome to St. Mary’s! Please come as you are; we’ll grow with you”), a business card, confetti, and fourteen brochures about St. Mary’s Church, the Episcopal church, and being a Christian.

Wow. Good follow-up.

I went back to the church website and saw that I had, indeed, misinterpreted the information about Father Jansma. He did study in England, but he’s from New Jersey. How had I missed that?

A few months after that I went back to the church’s website again, and found that Father Jansma now had a profile page on the church website, as well as a blog. I learned that he was converted by reading a Chick tract, This Was Your Life. (Boy, that brings back memories. Neil and I were fascinated by Chick tracts when we became Christians during our early college days.)
Father Jansma’s favorite music is piano jazz; he has a personal goal of seeing every Shakespeare play live; he loves P.G. Wodehouse and Robert Frost. His blog makes me wish more pastors had blogs. His is a fairly bloggy blog, too – personal and quirky and not just a series of public relations pieces.

I learn that St. Mary’s is a Purpose-Driven Church – for the last year or so the church has been undergoing a transition, drawing up a new vision statement, and trying new things. It’s clear that the process has been somewhat painful; people have left the church and have been very critical of its new direction. Father Jansma quotes from George Barna’s book, Revolution, which is about the evolving shape of the American church: “We predict that by the year 2025, the market share of conventional churches will be cut in half.” That sounds pretty grim to lots of churchgoers, but Barna is optimistic: “People are creating a new form of church, and it’s really exciting.” I need to do more reading about the emergent church movement, about which I know next to nothing.

UPDATE: Much later, I check back and am astounded to find that Father Jansma is twittering, and is also posting video updates about his 6-week sabbatical on Youtube. The virtual revolution keeps on turning!