It was a beautiful day. April 25, 1848 was that most precious and rare of things: a blue-sky, warm-sun, early-spring day in Philadelphia. How do I know this? In the same way that Philadelphians have always known things – I read it in the Inquirer.
On April 26, 1848, the Philadelphia Inquirer ran a lengthy piece about the laying of the cornerstone of Saint Mark’s the day before.* The unnamed author begins by writing that it is “gratifying and elevating” to mark the construction of new churches in the city, and mark he does. Not only does he include a list of every item sealed in the cornerstone (basically a Bible, a BCP, a bunch of periodicals, and a blessing), he also provides the complete dimensions of the church; a list of the groups in attendance, including the vestry(men), work(men) and “a large number of ladies;” the full names and titles of the every one of the two dozen clergy(men) present; an outline of the liturgy; a smashing review of what must have been a kind of ecclesiastical pick-up choir; and the entire text of the bishop’s very very, very long prayer.
The author then apologizes for not having room to reprint every word of what I’m assuming was the bishop’s very very, very lengthy remarks. Instead, he shares just a few of the bishop’s stated hopes for this new church. Now it turns out that this bishop was not only a bit verbose, he was also a bit prescient. 175 years ago, he hoped that Saint Mark’s would be an “asylum for the poor and…the afflicted” – check – that “its pulpit…[would] proclaim the unsearchable riches of Christ and him crucified” – check – that the “young might [here] be…taught to remember their Creator” – check – “that the perversity of men would be softened within its walls” – weird wording, but okay, check – that this place would be marked by a “comprehensive system of Christian love,” that it would claim a sacred mission, that future rectors would keep yellow Labs – I mean, the guy was a prophet. The article concludes with the author remarking that the scene on this day “was at once touching and impressive…one of simple, yet sublime Christianity.” With “the blue sky bending above, and the rich sunshine brightening and beautifying the whole” it was a day, surely, to be remembered.
And remember it we shall, remember it we currently are. But I would like to suggest that there is another date that is even more important to remember. I know, I’m here to celebrate the 175th anniversary of the laying of the cornerstone, but just hear me out. 10 months before the laying of the cornerstone, on June 28, 1847, a small group of Episcopalians met at the home of George Zantzinger, just around the corner. It was a much simpler gathering, just a conversation, really. These people (I’m hoping against hope that there might have been even a small number of ladies present) had been inspired by the Oxford movement in England, whose founders preached the importance of reclaiming the Church’s traditional liturgical practices, the gift and the primacy of the Eucharist, and the idea that the shape of our buildings shapes our faith. These Philadelphians saw in this new movement something they were longing for, something that was absent from their beloved church in their beloved city. They saw that the Church could be bigger than they had imagined – that it could do more, serve more, be more transformational, more holy and real and resplendent than they had ever thought possible. On this June afternoon in 1847, they had the vision to see that the Church could be more; 10 months later, they just started building it.
Now I am not saying that this building with its blessed cornerstone is unimportant. Who could ever stand in this space and say that? We need places in this world that hush us, that make us feel very, very small and very, very loved at the same time. But we also need this 1847 kind of vision in of world. Because our beloved Church is not thriving. We all know this; you heard a sermon about this just a few weeks ago from this very pulpit. We know that the world sees the Church as irrelevant and hypocritical, if not outright harmful. We know that most young people don't even have church on their radar. And we know, too, that a large part of the Church, of our siblings in Christ, has become tragically warped by a misogynistic, anti-trans, backward-looking and unforgiving worldview that has nothing to do with the Gospel. The Church in this and every city is in trouble, and I for one haven't heard many good ideas about what to do about it.
Paul had a good idea. In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul, or whatever holy poet was writing in his name, says that to build – or rebuild – the Church, we who follow the risen Christ have to do three things: discern our gifts, accept them, and then put them to work. Now, there is a variety of gifts of ministry at Saint Mark’s, there are apostles and prophets and evangelists and pastors galore, but I would like to suggest that Saint Mark’s has a particular vocation to teaching. I suggest this not only because the people of this parish have been some of the most important teachers in my life, not only because people like Sean Mullen and Nora Johnson and Audrey Evans and Kenny Pearlstein and Juli Reddy and Phil Schultz and Vivienne Cowie and Nico McGraw and Kent John Pope have taught me almost everything I know about the priesthood and much of what I know about my identity as a child of God. No, I say this because I think that Saint Mark’s as a whole has a vocation to teach the Church a new vision of itself.
Look at what you have already taught us. You have taught us that an urban parish can, in fact, attract families with young children. You have taught us that ministry to and with those children is not optional. You have taught us that an Anglo-Catholic parish can empower women for ordained leadership. You have taught us that a traditional parish can celebrate the lives and the leadership of our LGBTQ+ siblings. You have taught us that an abandoned property in Northeast Philadelphia can be a hub of learning and hope for a whole generation of children. You have taught us that a beautiful but unwieldy rectory can put church back on the radar for those supposedly uninterested young people. You have taught us that ancient things can be timely, that music is fundamental, that buildings shape faith, that beauty matters. You, Saint Mark’s, have been teaching the world, this city, and the Church truths about the Gospel for almost two centuries.
And we need you to keep it up. The world needs a gathering of people – inspired by the witness of the past and built upon that foundation with Christ as the chief cornerstone – that has the vision to see that our Church can be more. We need a community that believes that our Church can do more, serve more, be more transformational, more holy and real and resplendent than anyone ever thought possible. We need you to teach us that the Church can speak truth in love, find unity – grow up. We need you to teach us that the Church can be not just a place of comfort for the afflicted but a force to help tear down the systems of racism and prejudice that caused that affliction in the first place. We need you to teach us that the Church has the power to change the trajectory of our national conversation about poverty, about guns, about the environment, about truth. We need you to teach us that ruined cities can still sing, that predictions of impending death are nothing to fear, that resurrection is more than just a one-time event. We need you, my God, we need you to teach us peace. We need you to teach us how to be Saint Mark’s, to believe the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and to proclaim that the very kingdom of God has come near.
At the end of the Inquirer article, the author writes that part of what made the day so beautiful was that all who stood on this little plot of ground were “animated by one spirit, engaged in one cause.” He was right, of course; the same spirit that inspired that 1st-century proclamation of Blessed Mark the Evangelist was moving through those 19th-century children of God, inspiring them to build this beautiful church and this beautiful church. Beloved, that Spirit has never left this building. That Spirit will never leave her Church. She is here with us, hovering over this altar, empowering us to be bold, to serve in love the hungry, the song of hope proclaim. That Spirit is engaged in one cause, which is to do something new with her Church, to bring light out of darkness, hope out of desolation, life out of death. Beloved, she is about to show us resurrection. She has done it before, and there is nothing we can do to stop her from doing it again. All she asks is that we proclaim that Easter Good News in every way possible, which you, Saint Mark’s, have already been doing for 175 years. So to all the Inquirer reporters in the congregation or watching online, I say mark this date, because it is a beautiful day. Mark this date, because this gathering, animated by the one Spirit, is about to teach the world resurrection. Mark this date, because these Philadelphians have a vision that their beloved Church can be more. And then just watch what they build next.
Preached by Mother Erika Takacs
Saint Mark’s, Philadelphia
Saint Mark’s Day 2023
*You can find the article here: https://philadelphiastudies.org/2015/09/14/laying-the-corner-stone-of-st-marks-church-1848
