[Published in the Windham County Commons February 1, 2008] Once upon a time, in 1830, after the second great awakening, 80 percent of Vermonters were regular churchgoers. “The most churchgoing people in the protestant world,” according to a state historical society paper written by Randolph Roth. And those who weren’t worshippers found themselves on the outside of society and many joined the westward migration.

Vermont’s beautiful emblematic community churches are a product of this age, before the automobile, before the rise of dairy farming, even before the railroad.

Now, according to the American Religious Survey, just 24 percent of Vermonters are church regulars — the lowest in the nation. Nationally, the rate is 42 percent. But the state's many churches have endured, marking human communities which also endure, despite the challenge of shifting demographic trends.

I was the pastor of one of these churches.

When I arrived at Vernon Union Church in 2001, I found a lovely classic white church, well kept, but quite empty. Only 15 to 25 regulars graced the sanctuary, built for 100. Some expressed concern that they were a dying church. Could I help?

It’s unexpected, being a Quaker and a pastor. But I’d been to seminary and when Sept. 11 happened, I decided to stop wondering what I was supposed to do and get up and contribute. Those were my skills and I could see that we needed community and healing and the institution ordained for that purpose is the church.

So I called Pam Lucas, the associate minister of the United Church of Christ, and asked how I could be useful. I’d discovered I liked the UCC — liberal, Christian, welcoming, and often at the center of small town Vermont. I liked that, unlike Quakers who have always held themselves a bit apart, the UCC is a mainstream church.

It turned out that days before, the Vernon church had called her in a panic, seeking a pastor. She figured this timing wasn’t a coincidence and suggested I call them. “Well,” said Steve Moore after my first sermon, “you didn’t embarrass yourself — do you want to come back?”

And so I began my sojourn.   more »