When I was a seminary student, I worked part-time as a janitor in a neighborhood church. The job had flexible hours that did not interfere with my studies and we needed the income to buy groceries and other essentials. I had worked as a janitor before, trading janitorial services for a building for use of a small apartment the first year of our married life. The church job grew from cleaning to light maintenance and I earned a bit of extra funds by engaging in some larger projects, such as the installation of speakers in the sanctuary ceiling that required renting and constructing a scaffolding tower and hiding wires next to ancient timbers and beams. One of the jobs I did for the congregation was to install hidden casters in the legs of the large wooden communion table. The congregation was affiliated with the United Church of Christ and also with the Christian Church, Disciples of Christ. Part of their Disciples of Christ heritage was the tradition of celebrating Holy Communion every Sunday. Their large gothic sanctuary was a bit unusual for a Disciples of Christ congregation, which generally prefer simpler surroundings. It featured a large baptistry, suitable for baptisms by immersion, another unique feature of a gothic chapel. The original altar had been moved from its original place at the front of the chancel, and moved closer to the congregation. The current congregation wanted it to move even closer, but the table was too heavy to be moved by one or two individuals. The solution to making the table easy to move was to turn it upside down and cut out cavities in the bottoms of the legs and install special casters that had levers that raised and lowered the table. It was a huge project that had to be completed in one week so the table was usable on each Sunday. Somehow, I got the work done.

After I had completed the project, I was assigned the task of writing a poem about the life of a church in one of my seminary classes. I ended up writing about the communion table with wheels that brought the sacrament to the people. I gave a copy of the poem to the senior pastor of the congregation where I was janitor. He in turn, submitted it for publication in a denominational magazine. The poem was later reprinted in an international journal for blind people which was printed in Braille. It was the only poem I have ever had published. Also, because it was printed in Braille, it is the only thing I have ever written that was translated for publication.

I haven’t kept a copy of the poem. I think I may have had one that went to the recycling with other papers when I cleaned out files before moving here, but I know I would not have been able to find it, buried in a file cabinet with over 40 years of saved notes, sermons, and other treasures. I don’t really need the poem. I still have the story, which takes more words and more space than the poem.

I thought of that poem, and that experience yesterday. We had our first in-person staff meeting since we started working at our current church. We have worked there for nine months with weekly staff meetings held over Zoom. Some days we have all been in the building in adjacent offices and still have met over Zoom. The Covid pandemic has isolated us in very strange ways. It was so refreshing and delightful to simply sit around the table with the entire church leadership team. We shared lunch around a large conference table that provided room for distancing. The windows were open and we could feel the breeze circulating air in the room.

During the meeting, in addition to reveling in the joy of simply being together face to face, I got to hear more from the church accountant than I had previously heard. Being together made her feel invited to speak and she had some very insightful observations about the congregation and the engagement of members.

I also was incredibly impressed with the observations of our church janitor. I have known for all of my career that the position of janitor is an excellent place to observe the life of a congregation. Janitors clean the floors and rearrange the furniture. They pick up scraps of paper left behind after church board meetings. They get to see the doodles that bored parishioners make on worship bulletins. They learn to estimate accurately how many people are attending worship and meetings and how many cars are parked in the parking lot. They learn about patterns of attendance and they hear the voices of church members, sometimes at the point of frustration, sometimes at moments of celebration. A good observant janitor can tell you a lot about the general life of the congregation. When I was a janitor, I knew which places were most likely to be occupied during a worship service and which ones filled only when there was a special service at Easter or Christmas. I knew which members’ funerals were large and filled the church and which were more private and intimate.

The church office manager also has a unique perspective on the life of the church. The person most likely to hear directly the complaints of members and who answers the phone day in and day out knows the mood of the congregation. The one who does all of the scheduling and calendar management understands the church programs and sees how they are coordinated and connected as well as how diverse they are.

It was such a treat to listen to and discuss the current state of our congregation with the accountant and janitor and office manager and other members of the church staff yesterday. A good pastor listens carefully to those people, and I felt honored by their observations that have previously been unknown by me. People say things in face to face meetings that are never said over Zoom.

Lunch yesterday was a good reminder of the power of human connection. I know that we are not finished with Zoom meetings. I have an important one this evening. I have agreed to teach classes that are offered over Zoom. I’m becoming more skilled at managing break out rooms and screen sharing and recording and other technical aspects of the program. All there same, I long for and treasure those times when we share church together face to face. And I’m glad I’ve learned to listen to the wisdom of the church janitor.