St. Thomas’ Parish at Dupont Circle
Neighborhood Life
We’re Growing a Church Just For You
Jun 28th
On June 20, 2010, the Vestry (or governing board) of St. Thomas’ Parish voted unanimously to move forward to rebuild a new worship space in Dupont Circle. While our new building is going up, I want to be in conversation with you about who we are, what we’re doing here, what we believe in, and why we think this parish matters to the larger communities we live in.
After the original structure, church home of Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt, was destroyed by arson 40 years ago this August, our congregation chose to remain in the neighborhood of Dupont Circle, worshiping, as we still do, in the renovated parish hall. Over time this prophetic decision evolved into an intentional, creative, and courageous leadership role in solidarity with of the growing GLBT community in this historic Washington, DC, neighborhood.
- We opened our doors during the height of the AIDS crisis – welcoming HIV positive individuals to the Eucharist, ministering to the dying and their grieving partners and friends, and honoring the dead with funerals and memorial services when few other parishes did so.
- We pioneered the development of rites for the blessing of same sex unions in the Episcopal Church, writing a still frequently used and widely adapted liturgy in 1998. Subsequently we have hosted countless blessings of holy unions, and our clergy have officiated at many others beyond our doors. Most recently we have been celebrating a steady flow of same sex marriages at St. Thomas’ Parish, including a wedding just this week of a gay couple who have been faithful partners for 33 years.
- All of us at St. Thomas’ Parish have been blessed, too, by a steady growth in the numbers of children in our ranks, some with same-sex and others with straight parents, all of them looking for a spiritual home where they can be assured, as one said recently, that “my child will never learn to hate in this place.”
- As older straight and GLBT members have retired or moved from the parish, younger adults have found a home with us in growing numbers. The result is that the median age of our parishioners is about 35, with only a handful of members over the age of 55, and currently only one vestry member over 45. This influx of young adults has led to a doubling of our congregation’s size and budget in the past 5 years. Now we are in the both enviable and lamentable place of being almost out of room to welcome those still arriving at our doors.
People who come here find an inclusive congregation, whose life is centered in the sacraments of baptism and holy communion — “a place where all can find and be found by God.” We are constantly deepening our practice of faith rooted in vital worship and bold outreach in equal measure, continually learning to love one another and our neighbors, although sometimes it is not clear which is the more difficult. We are proud to be a part of our community, and we also are deeply committed to contributing to our neighborhood and world in days long after we ourselves are gone. We’re growing a church just for you — and a place of sanctuary and refuge, of inspiration and courage, of faithfulness and compassion for tomorrow and the day after.
Obama?
Nov 6th
I blew it. I was so sleepy Wednesday morning that it never occurred to me to go invest in history and plunk down 50 cents for a Washington Post. I’m told I could have found one until about 10 a.m., had I looked hard enough. The problem was that I didn’t think about it until 7 p.m. last night.
I needed to go out to walk for exercise anyway (as my spouse reminded me!), so with audacity I put on my navy HOPE hooded sweatshirt and pants (from the college, not the campaign), and loped on over to Georgia Avenue NW, which angles through my neighborhood.
It’s a sort of liminal zone between two economic, although not racial, worlds — on both sides live mostly “people of color” (predominantly and historically African American), although the colors represented now are salted with caucasians here and there. Economically, however, the divide is more stark.
The neighborhoods on the side of Georgia Ave where I live manifest different levels of hope … and fulfillment. But for everyone, hope is a plausible proposition. When you look at the dc.gov website’s crime statistics, though, the little circles marking crime sites in the past year litter Georgia Avenue itself. Even lots of NE (Northeast) DC is now “on the way up” — but Georgia Ave has blocks and blocks of tiny neighborhood stores notable for their bullet proof plexiglass cages for the cashiers and burglar bar coverings on every inch of explosed glass.
Last night, these were the establishments that called my name. I went out cruising about twenty 
blocks of Georgia Avenue looking for the most elusive commodity in Washington, DC: an “Obama Makes History” edition of the Washington Post!
Which led me to the only establishments that were open (besides a couple of drug stores, a smattering of fast food restaurants, and two tiny, sad liquor stores) — those little markets that usually don’t look all that inviting even when the chain-link is off the windows and the lights are on and the doors are open.
Last night, however, I was a man with a purpose. Four quarters in my sweat pants pocket, I tried the first one I came two. Two Hispanic men looked up as I asked, “any newspapers left?” Then seeing a rack with El Tiempo Latino and La Nacion, I added, “Washington Posts”? At which point both men smiled, saying almost in unison, “Obama?” “Si, Obama” I squeezed out. “No, no, no,” they replied, and then an avalanche of Spanish I didn’t understand. I smiled back, waved goodbye and went on my way.
My whole walk went like that. I’d walk in a store, point at the empty newspaper rack and say “Obama?” and almost before I could get out “Do you have anymore Washington Posts?” either the clerk or other customers would smile and say, “Obama!” followed by sad “No, no, no’s” about the newspaper and then cascades of laughter and banter in several languages I honestly couldn’t identify — maybe Korean in one store, and finally English in at least two or three — but always happy, sometimes boastful, othertimes self-congratulatory, never inhospitable words about the miracle of their new President: “Obama!”
I know it won’t last. Just remember the shift from 9/11 to the anniversary of “Shock and Awe” and it’s clear that this honeymoon won’t last forever. Things will happen that will dim the memory and tarnish the glow a bit and re-insert suspicion into our exchanges with even our neighbors.
For a few days, now, though, I can walk down the sidewalk in 16th Street Heights, or stand at the 14th Street bus stop, or get off the Fairfax Connector in Herndon, VA, and my neighbors, fellow commuters, and even Ziggy, the middle-aged Coptic Orthodox Ethiopian engineer who I often visit with as we walk from the bus to our respective places of employment — all of us, with the utterance of just one word, smile, and are joined together: “Obama!” And there’s a story to tell.
And there’s hope! Hope that change really is on the way. Hope that we’re all up to it. Hope for what we share, not what in many cases still obviously divides us.
No. I never found a Post. But in the spirit of full disclosure, I just read online that the Post is printing 350,000 more commemorative-edition copies that will go on sale in the morning. I’m headed to Georgia Avenue first thing tomorrow morning, this time to the CVS Pharmacy, which is listed as a Post distributor for these treasures. And … this is hard to admit … just in case, I just bought a copy from Cafe Press for $9.95 + postage and shipping. “Obama Makes History.” And I admit I want a piece of it while it lasts.
