St. Paul’s Chapel is the oldest continuously-used public building in New York City, yet it’s the place where some of the newest things at Trinity are happening. Each week during Lent I want to explore some small changes that create big discoveries.

Money is a powerful symbol, even in church. Every Sunday every church collects an offering of money for the work of the church. Many a stewardship sermon, from the early Church Fathers onward, have made much of the connection between our money and our selves --I think it was St. Augustine who preached that when the collection plates were carried forward it was as if everyone in the assembly had jumped on the plates, that we are offering our whole selves, symbolized in our gifts.

(Here’s a liturgical principle to put in your back pocket, one I return to often when evaluating liturgy: the shorter the distance between the symbol and its referent the stronger the power of that symbol. For instance, real bread in the Eucharist is a more direct and accessible symbol of Christ the Bread of Life than the styrofoam-like wafers that church-supply companies offer.)

So at St. Paul’s we linked that principal to the offertory: If presenting money in church is more than just a collection method, but is a symbol of presenting ourselves, then why not shorten the distance and actually present ourselves along with our money?
Since we were already gathering around the altar at St. Paul’s to sing the Eucharistic Prayer, it was a relatively small and easy switch to make: to place the offering basket on the altar empty instead of carrying it through the congregation, and then to invite people to make their offering when they came up to the Table. But the change was instant and visible. Energetically, we switched from ‘taking a collection’ to ‘making an offering’.

Sunday by Sunday now there is this wonderful, very visible moment, where everyone goes close up to the Table, touches it, and leaves their gift behind. It might be a widow’s mite, but it’s clear to me from their faces, and from the way they move toward the Table, that something important is happening. No discursive explanation needed; we experience the offering in our bodies. My favorite is young children, since their faces always hide less than adults: the anxiety at suddenly being so public, the hesitant but eager steps toward the Table. Placing the money in the basket with a sudden flash of a smile as if a great Triumph has suddenly been achieved, and the dash back to the parents’ arms.

Such a small change; such a great result. And some of the best part of these changes is they are accidental discoveries. They happen only because we, the liturgy planners, have been attentive and curious, not because we are smart or highly-trained. It also takes Time. Sometimes these little changes feel like they are gestating for months before we can articulate them.

Next week: Discovering that the OFF switch is the most important control on a sound system.