Public Narrative from the Pulpit, Grace Cathedral. September 19, 2010

Public Narrative Message for 8:30 service, Grace Cathedral (Episcopal), San Francisco, September 19, 2010 – unexpurgated version
Themis Michos

Why you should make an annual pledge to Grace Cathedral:

1932: I was baptized as an infant in the Greek Orthodox Church at age three months. The place was Marion, Indiana, in the large meeting room of the Victorian, red-brick building of the Odd Fellows Lodge on Third Street . The priest had to travel 100 miles south from South Bend for the ceremony because we had no Orthodox church in our small town. The font was a washtub, which undoubtedly my mother had decorated with her elaborate crochet work, and I was immersed up to my eyeballs together with my infant friend, Jimmy Thrapsimis. I believe I was told that Jimmy and I were naked, bobbing in the washtub together. I know you will cherish this image forever.

Jimmy and I were different from the start. Our mothers were Greek immigrants from Eastern Thrace, part of the Ottoman Empire. Our mothers had been born into a Christian minority in a Moslem land. Believe me, when you are in the minority as a Christian, you don’t take your religion lightly. Your religion defines you.

1935: My mother made sure that I could recite the Nicene Creed in the original Greek at the age of three. She bragged about that for years as one of her proudest achievements. (No, it wasn't child abuse.) I was a hard-wired Christian from the start, with no possibility of drift or escape.

1941: All the local Greek kids in town were installed in the local Episcopal church. I enjoyed immensely dedicated priests and Sunday school teachers, and I still have a crucifix at home given to me as a prize for not missing Sunday school for four consecutive years. When I was twelve years old I was scheduling the acolytes for all of the parish services.

1950: Like many people church fell off sharply between the ages of 18 and 40. It was called the Ivy League, the Army, Europe and practicing law, none of which proved to be conducive to the religious life.

1978: In the midst of my first mid-life crises, I decided that my mother had been right about everything. I came back full time to the Episcopal church at the parish of Christ Church, Portola Valley. That led to what was expected of me – Vestry, Stewardship chairman, acolyting, Bible study. It was hard but rewarding work and fabulous.

1998: We moved to the City, to loft living south of South of Market. My wife and I retired from an active parish life. I told myself that we had earned passive observance. We came to the 7:30 service at Grace for over ten years - anonymously and aloofly - basking in the glorous 17th century English of the Prayer Book and walking briskly out of the Cathedral as soon as the service was over. If you stuck around you might have to talk with someone you didn’t know. We had fallen into one of the traps of the urban church - the illusion that one can lead a full Christian life and be anonymous. I reduced my annual pledge, satisfying myself that it was up to the younger people to carry the financial load. Little by little, however, we realized that that wasn’t working.

2009: A call to this senior Samuel to join the Trustees of Grace. I was in turmoil. Why come out of retirement? It was time. We were running but not hiding. I became a Congregational Trustee of the Cathedral. The unexpected awakening spurred us to increase our stewardship pledge.

2010: As a congregation we have no choice but to support this Cathedral as much and as hard as we can. I am here to testify that St. Paul was right. Our faith is a marathon, and we all have to run as hard and long as we can. There is no retirement for a Christian. If you've been a passive observer, I invite you, too, to come out of retirement and make a pledge or do your best to increase your pledge.  Continuing the great work of this Cathedral depends on you, and it’s never too late to come back. Please join me in making the strongest financial commitment to Grace Cathedral that you can make.