On a typical Sunday in 2015, I came to church for the 8am 
service. Surprisingly, the service found itself without an usher due to an unexpected absence. Not a tragic situation by any means, but a vital hole in the morning service was upon us. As I stood in the Little Church doorway about 15 minutes before the service was to start, I looked around to see if anyone who had ever ushered before was in attendance and could help out. No luck. So I grabbed the stack of bulletins and announcements, propped open the door and started to hand them out, while waiting for an experienced usher to appear.
As it would happen, no one who had ushered before was arriving. The clergy and acolyte were outside, ready to begin. I looked to Rev. Lori, shrugged my shoulders, and said, “It seems I’m our usher today!” Over time, I’ve witnessed countless Sunday services, watching clergy and others move through the sanctuary spaces during services. I could do this.
My guess is that no one in attendance knew I was such a rookie. I handed out bulletins. I rang the big bell outside to start the service. I stood in the back, running through the service in my head, hoping I could map it out and know what was to happen when. I settled down, and all was processing as it should.
While the service continued, I thought about what might be the lesson from this Unexpected Ushering: “Someone will always step up to help, today it was me, and I’m glad I could do it.”
As it turns out, there was a bigger lesson that day.
One of the tasks of an usher is to collect the offerings. At this service, I collected from pews on the right, and then the left. Once completed, I stood in the back, ready to bring them forward. The Little Church has dark walls, a dark ceiling and floor. The bright spot is at the altar: white walls, glistening altar pieces. Standing at the back, I felt I was in a tunnel with all this brightness ahead of me. Our organist, Jennifer, began the Doxology with great gusto. Everyone stood up, faced forward and sang. The tunnel sensation increased. I was walking forward, plate held high, past the rows of my friends, carrying their offerings to the church and to God. Music and voices boomed around me. The clergy was welcoming me forward. And there I was, this regular person, bringing these gifts forward. I felt like I was walking on air. I knew I would always remember this moment.
After delivering the collection plate, I was in a daze. What was that?! Did anyone else sense that?! Is this what the ushers feel each Sunday? I can’t answer those questions, but I know that on that day, bringing forward that collection plate, I was transformed.
At that very instant I became stronger in my convictions to be of help, at church and beyond. I saw with my own eyes the generosity of St. James’. I even decided to increase my pledge.
We all have time and treasure to give, and sometimes we need to step out of our comfort zones and share them. I wish you all a happy and healthy summer. May we all find moments when we are transformed by what we find at St. James’, and in the world. And then share them with others.
~Meg Amouroux, Sr. Warden