Epiphany Church, fiftieth anniversary

On Sunday, David and I went to the 50th Anniversary of a church we served in Northern Virginia in the late 60s and early 70s.

Now a quiet, peaceful little church in the suburbs, it was a cauldron of ferment during our time there. We were close enough to Washington to be swept up in all the upheavals of society at that time—protest marches, anti-war movements, hippies, free love, psychedelic drugs. It was the era of long hair on boys and beehive hairdos on women. The Civil Rights movement had taken a dark turn with the formation of the Black Panthers. The first waves of the Woman’s Movement was just beginning to stir. Watergate and Nixon’s resignation all occurred during our time there.

Everything in society was changing, including church architecture. It seemed appropriate that we were assigned to a relatively new church (David was the second pastor) that looked like a Pizza Hut. The altar was in the middle of the sanctuary with a large cross suspended from the ceiling.The congregation sat in a circle around it only about 3 rows deep. It created a very intimate setting and thus some very interesting worship services and particularly weddings as there was no long aisle for the bride to process down.

I remember one particular wedding where the young bride released baloons which floated to the ceiling. Her bridesmaids came in whatever they wanted to wear. One wore a large picture hat, another wore a pants suit. But the most shocking thing for David, occurrd when he asked for the ring and the groom brought out a ceramic hamburger made by the bride. Lifting the top, there lay the ring. Trying to keep a straight face, David continued with the liturgy.

Like everything else clothing was changing. Up until this time I always wore a dress to church, in the beginning with a hat and gloves. By the 60s women were beginning to wear pant suits even to church. I asked David if he would mind if I wore a pants suit to church. He said, “I Guess that would be alright.” But when I showed up in my first pants suit at an evening service, David blurted out–”You didn’t say it was RED.”

There was a freshness, a wild creativity, a freedom that in some cases was out-of-control, badly damaging some of our youth who were caught up in the maulstrom. But those years were happy, exciting ones for us, where I made some of my closest friends and where I wrote my first published play.

Looking back I am glad I was able to watch and participate in the upheaval in society from the strong, though changing, foundation of a church community.