Episcopal Church Foundation Vestry Papers - for leading congregations

The Reverend Bob Castle entered into the nearer presence of God just over a year ago, at the age of 83. He was at my side as my rector when I was confirmed as an Episcopalian, and many aspects of his life continue to inspire my priesthood.

Bob was most known for his commitment to social justice. But maybe the most important thing I learned from Bob had to do with his Sunday presence. He could hardly be described as a dedicated liturgist. Sundays were pretty much straight BCP, and he didn’t always remember to change seasonal colors until a week or two in. His sermons were lively and extemporaneous -- sometimes brilliant, sometimes wandering.

Bob was magical on Sundays because he was always so happy to see us. Whether “us” was a great turnout or a motley handful, whether we had mostly remembered to take showers, or whether some of us were having really tough mental health days, Bob managed to communicate that we were exactly who he wanted to spend his Sunday morning with. He let us know each week that being the rector of this scrappy little West Harlem parish was exactly what he wanted to be doing with his life -- a gift from God for which he was tremendously grateful.

When I became a priest, the pressure to count bodies and dollars hit me hard. As parish clergy, our success is often measured in numbers. In these days of struggling congregations and declining attendance, it is easy to pay more attention to who is not there (or what is not in the plate) than who is there.

Saint Bob Castle -- especially now that he is gone -- reminds me that church is a gift. When we gather, whether we are many or few, it is our hearts and our faces and the love among us that please God, not our numbers. I continue to work hard to help my parish grow. But I refuse to surrender the joy of the now, the joy of looking out over my congregation, and discovering the beauty of the particular group gathered to worship on this particular day. I hope and pray that my face and my voice and my very being communicate that joy to those who are present.