Fr. J. D. Ousley

One interesting fact about the church today concerns attendance. Recent studies in the Church of England suggest that many parishes there register lower attendance than they used to -- yet these parishes may actually be growing!

How can this be? Well, apparently, in our culture, people who attend "regularly" don't show up as often as their parents did. Where once committed Christians would worship every Sunday, now they might only be around two or three Sundays per month. Thus the total figures on any one Sunday will reflect a smaller percentage of the active members of the congregation.

Now in one sense, this is good news. It means that churches may have a growing influence that we're not aware of.

But in another sense, this statistical fact about attendance presents a challenge. For it reminds us of all the competition there is for a person's time.

So, children find themselves invited to birthday parties on Sunday morning -- at the same hour as Sunday School. An executive will be asked to attend a corporate "retreat" on the same weekend that her parish has its religious retreat. And weekend office hours may conflict with worship.

Weekend homes and recreation take people away from their city churches. (This is especially true of New York City. One former assistant here, the Rev. Jessica Hatch, once remarked to me that this was the only place she had ever lived in where people talked of going to "the country!")

Even people who have nothing scheduled on a Sunday may find themselves so exhausted by their activities during the rest of the week that they have trouble getting up for church.

What can Christians do about these pressures? Well, it's obvious that we can't change our culture -- any more than we could persuade stores to close on Sundays.

But we can be sure that we present Christianity in such a way that we address the reality of modern life. In particular, I think, we need to show how our faith directs us to what's really important.

Today's Gospel lesson, quotes the Christ's aphorism "Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much." Being faithful in the small habits of life is the key to building a strong interior faith that can withstand the storms of life.

Now, of course, the central religious issue is the truth of Christianity. But believing in the truth of our faith won't matter if people can't relate this truth to their lives. They will need to take time to learn the habits of faith.

Once again our culture today is different. Good habits that were common in the past can't be taken for granted. Many people don't read newspapers except when there are extraordinary events. So when time is at a premium in peoples' lives, religion will need to show how its commitments make a difference to real life.

One of the few good developments in our city in the last two weeks has been a renewed sense of how the practice of religion does fill a deep human need. Men and women crowded the churches on September 11 -- and they didn't look at their watches to see if they had spare time to practice their religion!

They had to offer prayers for people they loved. There was no question whether this offering was "worth their time." It was simply what they needed to do.

One senses, too, that in these last few days, many people have come to a new appreciation of the simple things in life. Some of you may have read the recent memoir of the British novelist Iris Murdoch that was written by her husband, John Bayley.

Iris Murdoch was a distinguished Oxford philosopher as well as a novelist; Bayley himself is a literary critic whose books and reviews have been published all over the world. Yet Bayley's remembrances of the couple's life together rarely mentioned profound intellectual debates. Famous names aren't dropped; Oxford literary parties aren't recalled.

Instead, Bayley fondly recounts walks and swims and meals together -- the mundane shared pleasures of their life. Later, as Iris Murdoch became more and more afflicted by Alzheimer's Disease, as ordinary conversation was a rare treat for both of them.

These grand literary lions, then, were united not by flights of intellect -- but by pleasures that can be shared by any two people in love.

As it happens, Iris Murdoch herself wrote a fair amount about religion. While she had trouble with many of the metaphysical beliefs of Christianity, she always recognized the need for worship and other religious practices.

For Murdoch believed that the human soul needed transcendence; the soul needed to recognize what she called, "the sovereignty of good."

The sovereignty of good is revealed in the small rituals of life. How often those of us who survived the terrorist attacks have thought of what the Prayer Book calls, "all the blessings of this life."

"All the blessings of this life." A friend sent me a text this week that was written by his wife. The couple have small children and live in a New Jersey suburb.

The woman had known a number of people in the World Trade Center; two of her friends had become widows. So she wrote of her new appreciation for patriotism, and for religion, and for the ordinary gifts of her life.

She said, "I, for one, no longer will forget Flag Day and I no longer will be so lazy about going to church." And she concluded by gratefully accepting the tasks God has given her to do: "In the morning, I will wake up, take the dog for a run, feed her, take a shower, go into the kitchen to make a school lunch, hang the flag and say a prayer."

Being faithful in a little, she will be faithful also in much. We may not worry we once did about "getting things done." We may think instead of how fortunate we are to be given the chance to be faithful in little. As we return to our work and see our friends, we may be more thankful than ever for the time we have been given and for all the blessings of this life.

And now unto God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit be ascribed as is most justly due all might, majesty, power, dominion and praise, now and forever, Amen.