Good morning and Happy Birthday to the Chapel of St. James the Fisherman. Who would have thought that this summer church would make it to the grand old age of seventy! Our patron James the Great, one of the twelve apostles, was believed to have been about forty-three when he was martyred.
The world, the nation, the Episcopal Church and Cape Cod were very different in 1956 when this summer church was dedicated. The world was recovering from the extended period of war and destruction; the nation was brimming with optimism and booming with babies; and the Episcopal Church was experiencing a twenty percent growth in membership.
A convergence of events was reshaping Wellfleet and the Outer Cape. The decommissioning of the U.S. Army’s Camp Wellfleet, the construction of the Mid-Cape Highway (aka Rt. 6) and the acquisition of land for the National Seashore set the stage for a new era. What was once a modest fishing village was blossoming into a vibrant summer enclave, attracting vacationing families and a growing circle of artists, architects, and thinkers from New York and Boston. Among those summer folks were a group of Episcopalians who thought there should be Episcopal worship in Wellfleet.
After gathering in the Congregational Church for six years, at the urging of James Pike, then Dean of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City, the congregation decided to build a church on two acres of land given by the Melville Family. They raised funds and commissioned Olav Hammerstrom, a Finnish architect and furniture designer, to create a seasonal chapel on this hilltop. It has been said that over 400 people attended the Chapel’s dedication with cars lining the highway and people clamoring up the hillside to join in the festivities.
Designed in what Bishop Pike described as “early church,” St. James the Fisherman became an award-winning icon of the Cape Modern architectural style. I often liken the chapel to an upside down hull of a boat or an enclosed picnic shelter. It actually resembles the octagonal church built on the supposed site of St. Peter’s home in Capernaum, a small village located on the Sea of Galilee.
For seventy years, this modest structure has welcomed year-round and seasonal residents, vacationers and day-trippers, seekers and searchers, Episcopalians and those of other or no faith tradition. For three months a year, we pray in the round and preach with God’s table smack in the middle of it all.
One of our founding clergy, Bishop Morgan Porteus, a plain spoken Yankee, recounted in a 1991 sermon how he felt when he first saw the model of the Chapel. He said:
I will never forget the disappointment I had when I looked at it. I thought it was simply dreadful. I said so to somebody. That model doesn’t speak to me in the least. And Jim Pike heard that I had said that, and I got the Pike Treatment—which ended on a Saturday night at nine-thirty in my cottage, with him saying to me, [Morgan] you are celebrant tomorrow, I have to be away. And I said, No way will I be there, and he said, Then there’ll be no service, you have to be there. And so I was forced against my will to come, and I came. And when I first stood at the table, I suddenly understood what this building was about, and what the theology behind it was about, and how real and true this gathering was and would always be.
In the same sermon, Bishop Porteus recalled what happened when Anson Stokes, Bishop of Massachusetts, came to dedicate the Chapel in 1956.
[Bishop Stokes] stood in [the] pulpit and there was an embarrassing silence which seemed to go on and on and on … and you wondered had he forgotten his notes? And suddenly he said, This is the most fearsome pulpit in which I have ever stood, for it…strikes me that every word I am about to say to you goes across that table, which means it goes to Christ before it goes to you, and that is an appalling feeling.
In what would be his last sermon at the chapel, at the age of ninety-six, Morgan preached what many of us feel about St. James the Fisherman.
A simple building, a simple table. A group of friends and strangers looking at each other across that same table. [This] is where forgiveness is born. [This] is where acceptance climaxes. Sharing the same words and actions, and becoming one with each other though still being different from each other. Being made one around this table when the Lord comes as he promised, to give himself to each of us and all of us. For me, that is the mystery and wonder in breaking bread and pouring wine at this table in our midst.
The Chapel’s architecture has itself called for a group of people to convene, gather and disperse every summer and build community through worship, music, conversation, and shared meals, open to all. And, looking into one another’s faces as we receive the word and bread of God, we have been encouraged to give back to our neighbors and our community.
As some of you will recall, two years ago I received an email from a priest who explained that he was serving a church in California modeled after St. James the Fisherman. Apparently, Jim Pike was so enamored by this summer chapel that when he was elected bishop of California in 1958 (two years after St. James’ completion), he commissioned Hammerstrom to design an almost identical church in Lafayette, CA. I had always thought St. James the Fisherman was one of a kind. It’s not!
When I told the vestry about St. Anselm’s, they had no idea that such a church existed, either. Intrigued by this news, we invited their rector Will Scott to preach on our Feast Day last July.
Accompanied by an entourage of friends and colleagues, Will journeyed to Wellfleet to explore the architecture, culture and liturgy that inspired the establishment of St. Anselm. From the pulpit, Will reminded us that both St. James and St. Anselm’s, though on opposite coasts, have what he called “a vibe that is intentionally modest, understated, humble and egalitarian, while also being provocative and breathtaking when the sun shines through the skylight.”
With altars in the center and worship in the round, these sacred spaces invite us to widen our circles around God. One of my favorite poets, Edwin Markham expressed this notion in these words: “He drew a circle that shut me out – a heretic, liar and thing to flout. But love and I had the wit to win – we drew a circle that took him in.” Is that not the challenge of the gospel, the great commission of Jesus Christ? Are we not called by our Lord to draw wider and wider circles of invitation and inclusion in God’s great realm of love?
Will’s pilgrimage to Wellfleet served as a powerful reminder of the Chapel’s history, mission and vocation to be a place and people of welcome, worship, and concern for the world around us.
I used the occasion of preaching at St. Anselm’s last fall to re-read James Pike’s 1964 ground-breaking book entitled A Time for Christian Candor. Bishop Pike, writing under the premise of “faith seeking understanding,” sought to unearth the heart of Christian faith, to strip away what he deemed as the unessential doctrines, mores, precepts, customs and symbols in order to ”help Christians see more vividly, and enter more fully into, the essentials of [their] faith” and to “help the outsider…find the essentials of Christian faith more plausible.” In the book’s final chapter, Bishop Pike wrote what he titled “an apologia for earthen vessels,” reminding each of us to “carry the treasure” of our faith with “candor…modesty [and] courage.”
These words – candor, modesty and courage – not only remind me of the architecture of this chapel, but also of Jesus’ scolding lecture to Brothers James and John in this morning’s gospel reading. The Sons of Thunder and their mother were seeking greatness, privilege, power and entitlement in Jesus’ promised kingdom. Without mincing words, Jesus told his ambitious disciples and their equally ambitious mother that those who want to be great must first be servants and slaves.
According to Jesus, the commonwealth of God is not about privilege, power and entitlement; it’s about stewardship and servanthood. Leaders in Jesus’ world were not to seek the best seat at the table; they were to take the seat at the very end of the table – furthest from the conversations of the rich and famous. Leaders in Jesus’ community were not to eat first; they were instructed to cook, serve and eat last – remember Jesus instructing his disciples to feed the multitudes. Leaders in Jesus’ company of saints were not to bark orders at their followers; they were to listen attentively and speak carefully to those entrusted to their care. In other words, according to the way of Jesus, in God’s reign, all who exalt themselves will be humbled and all who humble themselves will be exalted.
The Chapel of St. James the Fisherman, commissioned, designed and built by some clergy and laity with a fair bit of privilege and power, and some fairly strong egos, is, in fact, a visible symbol of Jesus’ core teaching. With the altar in the center and us gathered round, we are reminded that God is the host and all who approach this table – sinner and saint alike – are equally invited to the feast.
I have been fortunate to have worshiped in the round for much of my adult life in sacred spaces that have included: an off-Broadway theater, a seminary chapel, an inner city parish, a large urban cathedral, and a seaside summer church. With God’s table in the center, I have preached, prayed, and eaten with people whom I otherwise would not have known. And, in the word proclaimed and the prayers lifted up, in the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup around a circle we often find ourselves humbled and transformed.
As we begin our seventieth year of worshiping in the round, I invite us to consider anew our vision and dreams for the future of this summer chapel. How shall we worship God and serve God’s people in Wellfleet and the Outer Cape – not from a romanticized, mid-twentieth century perspective, but for the twenty-first century and beyond? How shall we worship God and serve God’s people in a world that, like the first century when Jesus lived, is challenged by economic insecurity, climate vulnerability, war, pestilence, and tyrannical governments? How shall we welcome God’s people who are not only seeking rest and recreation but also hope and meaning in these trying times?
The world needs the good news of Jesus – more than ever before. The world needs to experience the abundance of God’s justice, love and mercy – more than ever before. The world needs individuals and faith communities of candor, modesty and courage – more than ever before. How shall we respond to this call? Let us continue to listen to the word of God in this holy space and look to those standing around the circle, on the edges, in the shadows, and beyond – and we will find the answer.
The Very Rev. Tracey Lind
St. James Chapel – Wellfleet – 70th Anniversary
Feast of St. James the Fisherman – Mathew 20: 20-28