Mark Twain was in England when rumours circulated that he was critically ill, and, shortly after that, American newspapers mistakenly carried his obituary. He cabled back home his now-familiar snarky response: Reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.

This comical line came to me as I encountered the Anglican Church “on the ground” during our days in Bath and Salisbury. Yes, the rumors about how the Church of England is moribund, empty, and on life support have circulated for years.

Recent surveys show a fairly steep decline in church attendance in England, across the mainline denominations, and this certainly includes the Established Church, i.e., the Church of England. This is true for us American Episcopalians, as well. It is worrisome.

Yet there is more to the picture. My experience of the churches we visited convey a very different sense. There was a liveliness and vitality, a confidence in its message and inheritance, and an openness to new ways of mission and ministry.

At Bath Abbey, the morning Eucharist was well attended, the sermon was a thoughtful and winsome call to rest our weary lives in Jesus. The Eucharist was simple, reverent, and accessible. The preacher processed down the aisle, singing the jubilant final hymn with one arm raised, his palm open to the sky, in a gentle, charismatic gesture.

On the other hand, at Salisbury Cathedral, the quiet, intense, devotional spirit of Anglo- Catholic worship was evident: a liturgy filled with solemn movements, beautiful vestments, sung responses, and, yes, once again, powerful, God-conscious sermons.

One was a stirring description of the birth of the Nicene Creed (325 AD) and an animated presentation of the importance of our belief in One God. It was scholarly but filled with divine reverence, an invitation to think and pray more about the meaning of these ancient words.

The other sermon, at Sunday Evensong, was so memorable. I even quoted it this past Sunday when I preached in Michigan (where our family cottage is located) at the Meeting House service. The young priest at Salisbury spoke ardently of the need for Christians to stand up for the gender-nonconforming, who are being scapegoated, fired from government and military jobs, erased, and driven underground. He tied it memorably to the biblical story of Joseph and his coat of many colors (Gen. 37ff).

Overall, I was thoroughly impressed by the character and warmth of the clergy we met and by their amazing staff of worship leaders. I was moved to learn that Salisbury Cathedral has over 200 volunteers to staff the Cathedral, a sign of the commitment and love the city has for this special place. But then there is this!

Just walking around Bath, Salisbury, and London, I visited ordinary parish churches that were also showing signs of creativity and life. In Bath, my daughter Liz and I entered St. Michael’s without (i.e., “outside”) the Walls. On the porch, there was a sign filled with vital welcoming words.

Inside was a cafe that was humming on a Saturday afternoon, town folk sipping coffee, reading books, and visiting each other. A friendly duo of young people were serving snacks. The altar was in full view and ready for its Eucharistic celebration the next day, but they’d turned their nave into a living room for the community.

In Salisbury, we entered St. Thomas, a Beckett and St. Edmund’s Church (an historic gothic structure in good repair) with a nave turned into an area of community welcome. There was a children’s library, a place to get snacks, and some (always welcome) toilets for the public to use. A friendly parishioner greeted us and showed us proudly around her church. I felt in her a warm devotion to God and this church.

Finally, the day Jen and I went to London to see Hadestown, we wandered around looking for food. We came to St. Martin in the Fields, a church famous for its acoustics, where musicians go to make recordings.

It is also known for a very “happening” Saturday night, an outdoor pub-pizza place. There was live music, and the place was jammed. It was so noisy, in fact, that we wanted to find a quieter place. But before we did, we sought out the bathrooms.

A handsome visitors’ area led us to clean, hospitable bathrooms. Exiting the door, I was met with a sign (see photo) which was a gentle nudge to deeper spiritual things-”soft evangelism.”

And lastly, I am thinking about how Liz, Jen, and I lingered at the University Church of St. Mary the Virgin, Oxford. This was the location of an all University sermon given by John Keble in 1833. This sermon is widely credited for launching the Oxford Movement.

Its central principle is that the Church is not a department of Parliament to be manipulated for political reasons. It is a Divine Society; its birthright belongs to heaven; and Christ is its Head and Cornerstone. These “high views” of the nature of the Church were the fresh winds the church needed.

Earlier, it had been John Wesley and the Methodists who revived a moribund Establishment Church and made the Gospel “sing” in the public squares and fields of England. In every age, God is capable of doing a new thing. I saw evidence of that “new thing” in our experience at Bath and Salisbury.

And I felt a surge of pride. This is OUR MOTHER CHURCH–certainly not perfect, often all-too-flawed–yet capable of trying new things, praying in new ways, and holding up the light of the Gospel in a new and challenging age. Of course, this is not just “our church.” It’s really God’s Church, feeding people, welcoming them as they are, holding up the torch of an ancient but ever-new faith.

Every day in England, I admired the hospitality, the reverence, the courage, and the hope I saw modeled in the churches and people we encountered. My hope is that many of you saw this, too, and that we might take heart and encouragement from it.

May the words of the great Collect for the Easter Vigil be made true among us: May the whole world might see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up and that things which have grown old are being made new. (BCP 291)

Amen and farewell, beloved friends!

Greg+