St. Michael’s “Bring Your Own Friend Sunday”

 is September 13 at 10am

Picnic follows at 11:30am, Rain or Shine

 

 

Bring Your own Friend Sunday

---A Story of Friendship at  St. Michael’s Church

 

 Hello.  My name is Charlie.  I have lived in northern New Jersey all my life. Growing up, my family lived in Haledon.  I went   to William Paterson College, where I met my future wife, Mary. After my son was born in 1995, we moved to Wayne and have lived here every since.  For nearly twenty years, I have worked in selling pharmaceuticals.  I have made a good living, and provided for my family. In 2003, I was the national salesman of the year.  I work hard, and I am proud of what I can give to my family.

 

Now, I’m not what you would call a religious guy.  I didn’t like church growing up, and I don’t much care for it now.  Oh, my wife is there every week, and she makes sure that the kids attend their CCD classes.  I go with her to mass, every now and then.  To be honest, I find it kind of dull.  It’s just the same thing over and over again—blah, blah, blah, week in and week out.  I don’t know anybody there…except a few hypocrites, who are trying to look better than they really are. The priest may not know all those folks, but I’ve lived with them for years, and I’ll tell you what---they’re not angels. I hate it when I meet these folks at church, because then I got to put on a fake smile and act like I like them. Then like a herd of cattle, we go up to receive communion. I suppose it’s a good thing, but it doesn’t do anything for me.

 

Besides, I’m not a church person.  I don’t claim to be a saint.  I cuss. I lie. I cheat on my income tax. I cheat a t poker. I drink too much and I eat too much.  There are all sorts of associates at work, who stabbed me in the back, and I don’t forgive them.  I’ve been faithful to Mary, but I do flirt with the girls in the office.  And to be honest, I do  envy some of the fat cats at work, who don’t work nearly as hard as I do.  Now, I work hard, and I am proud of what I can give to my family.  But I wish I had more. I wish we could have a bigger house, like one of those Mac Mansions on Ratzer rd. 

 

No, I don’t fit in with all the religious people. Oh, I believe in God. But I like to have fun.  I don’t want to walk around with a prune face, always asking God to forgive me. 

 

Well, about six weeks ago, a poker buddy of mine, Fred, invited me to go to church and a picnic with him. He said it was, “Bring Your Own Friend Sunday” at his church, and he asked if I would be his friend?     I actually didn’t feel much like going, but Fred has been a good friend and I decided to humor him this one time.

 

Well, I must admit that Fred’s church was very different than what I expected.  Oh, on the outside, it looked like any other church.  In fact, I pass this church every day driving to work.

 

But what I found on the inside was not what I expected.

  • When we walked in the door, we were met by a number of regular smiling people. Some were dressed up.  Most were casual.   They appeared to be very informal.
  • The informality continued into the church.  The priest welcomed us, and told us that we didn’t have to worry bout doing anything wrong in the service.  Boy, that’s not my wife’s church, where the clergy and nuns are always giving someone the evil eye.   
  • I was surprised to see that they used power point, to project the words to the songs and prayers up on a screen. Rarely, at my wife’s church, do I ever see anybody following the service in the missal booklets. There, some people mostly mumble and most are quiet.  But when the first prayers were projected on the screen, most everybody joined in saying them.
  • Then, it came----- POW.  This church has a band—a real rock band, with guitar and drums. The first song had this beat, and every body stood up and started singing along.  You could feel the energy just surge from the band, and also from the people.  My gosh, nothing like this ever happens at my wife’s church.  The music there is this old dreary, sad, and slow music, that most the people never sing; and if they do sing, they don’t do it with any feeling.  But here at Fred’s church, most people were signing, enthusiastically and joyfully.  They sang as if they meant it. I could see it in their faces and hear it in their voices. ‘Shine, Jesus, Shine, fill this land with the father’s glory.” That tune was rather catchy and I found myself humming along as well. Well, this went on for about 10 fifteen minutes, and it was exhilarating.

 

We then sat down, and the priest then spoke to us.  She was unlike any priest that I had ever heard.   She didn’t preach down at you, like most of the pastors I’ve heard, who only talk about sin, and guilt, and wrath, and hell fire. No, she just talked about the fact that most people don’t know their real purpose in life.  That there has to be more to life than working, eating, sleeping, and working some more.  Well, she raised some interesting ideas, which made me think some...

 

 

 During the next week, I go t to thinking about it.  I work hard and I am proud of what I give to my family.  But, to be honest, I feel like I’m in a rut.  I work hard.  I avoid the people at work that I don’t like; and I gossip with those I do like.  I come home, talk to the family, go to bed, and then I start all over the next day. 

 

Well, I went back with Fred to his church the following Sunday.  Once again, the music was energetic and inspiring.  A number of people recognized me from the week before, and shook hands with me.  They seemed actually glad to see me. In the message that Sunday, the pastor said something which directly contradicted everything that I had ever been taught in CCDs classes as a child, and confirmation classes as a teen. She said that there is more to God than the church.  She said that the church can be sinfully flawed, and has turned many people off. She went on to say that no church should stand between us and God. because each of us is  important to God. Wow. I had never heard that.  I always thought that the nuns and the priests were the only important people in the church.  Well, after she spoke, a nice looking guy, a little older than me, got up to speak.   He told us how his career had been flushed down the toilet, and how devastated he was when that happened.  He then spoke of learning to pray, not with a priest, but all by himself, as if God was in the room with him.   He said that Jesus and this church had helped him through some hard times, and how happy he was now.  Once he finished, everyone clapped for him, including me.

 

After the service, Fred introduced me to this speaker. His name is Tom.  I told him how much I had liked his talk.  Tom then invited me to come over to his house that Wednesday, to have a beer with some of the guys from church.  I accepted his invitation.

 

Well, when we arrived at the house that night, I met all they guys, some of whom I recogniz3d from Fred’s church. As we drank our first beer, we talked a little about sports, but then we moved into the program.  The discussion was based on the message that we had heard the Sunday before, and it was pretty interesting.  Nobody was trying to shove anything down my throat. 

 

Perhaps the thing that stands out in my mind the most occurred later in the meeting, when one of the guys told us about a severe illness in his family.  Now, we keep our discussions confidential in the group, so I’m not going to tell you about this guy.  But I will tell you about the group.

  • Everyone in the group listened to him.   Everyone was concerned.  One guy even shed a tear.
  • A couple guys asked him questions, so he talked some more.  One of the guys had had similar experience, and he spoke about that. He talked about how hard it was, but how he got through it all with some help from his friends.
  • One guy then said that he wanted our group to pledge to do everything possible to help the guy over the next several months.
  • Everyone agreed.  
  • Then, Tom had us pray for the man.  Tom said all the words, and I just listened.  A couple other guys prayed out loud, too.  But by the time we finished, the guy, from whom we were praying, was actually smiling.  He said he felt better.  He said that he had never had friends like this before.
  • And then I realized it—these guys are friends with one another.  By the end of the meeting, I decided that I wanted them to be my friends, too.

 

Well, several weeks have passed and I have attended the group every week.  I’ve even gone to church with Fred a couple more times.  This church is never boring.    This church has great music, and people smile and laugh. Now Mother Ellen, she really gives great sermons.  But Fr. John, his sermons are so enthusiastic, inspiring, articulate, humorous, and insightful...  Actually, his sermons are a little too long—but he seems, nice, too...

 

 I’ve never seen a church like this.  Mary and the kids are going to come with me next week.

 

Now, I’m still not what you’d call a religious guy or anything.  But I’m so grateful that Fred invited to come to Bring Your Own Friend Sunday. .  I’m learning that God is much bigger, and more loving, and then I ever imagined. I’m learning that he does love me, and that he has a purpose for my life.  I don’t know what it is yet, but I’m willing to learn.

 

So—the reason I’m telling you all this is because you probably know a Charlie-type-guy.  Someone who would come to "Bring Your Own Friend Sunday,” if only you invited him or her.  All Fred did was to ask me to come with him—one time. And guess what?  If I had said, “No,” then that would have been NO BIG DEAL.

 

But I now, because of Fred, my life is not in such a rut.  Now, I have some   new friends.  Maybe you can be as good a friend to someone, as Fred has been to me.

 

 

----The Rev. John Donnelly

Sunday, August 19, 2009

St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, Wayne, NJ