Monday, October 28, 2013

The Saints of St. Mary's III - The Rev'd. Charles Tyner

          Today’s subject of the Saints of St. Mary’s is different from all of the others. Some of you are familiar with the two previous installments of this sermon series about our parish’s spiritual ancestors. All those whose stories I’ve told before were members of this congregation. Today’s saint comes to St. Mary’s by cross pollination. You’ve noticed by now that in addition to offering prayers in the name of our patroness, we mention the name of St. George often. Our choir and our chapel are named for him. St. George came to St. Mary’s through a merger of two congregations in the 1980s. St. George’s Church had a long history on Kansas City’s east side. The end of its time came about 30 years ago when its members and its memories became a part of St. Mary’s. Today’s subject is the Rev’d. Charles Tyner who served as rector of St. George’s from 1923 until 1952. Like Fr. Betts, he came to St. Mary’s from the Diocese of Nebraska. Like Fr. Jardine and Thomas Pain, he came by way of eastern Canada. Unlike any other priest who served in West Missouri, his first career was as a professional athlete.
          The Toronto Professionals were Canada’s first pro hockey team. In 1908 they won the championship of the Ontario Professional Hockey League. On March 14 of that year they met the Montreal Wanderers, champions of the Eastern Canada Amateur Hockey Association, in a match for the Stanley Cup. Toronto’s goal tender was Chuck Tyner. He was well known on Toronto’s east side as a gifted athlete: a champion amateur boxer and a talented baseball and lacrosse player as well as the rather elderly goal-tender of the Toronto Professionals. His teammates were still in their teens or barely out of them. Tyner was well into his twenties, his long playing years probably due partly to his natural athleticism and partly because goalies experience less wear and tear than their teammates.
If your first thought was that March 14 seems awfully early for a Stanley Cup match, there are a couple of reason for that. In the early 20th century, the Stanley Cup was awarded on a challenge basis. Any team who thought they could beat the current champions could petition the commissioners and request a match.  In the 1908 matchup, Toronto was the challenger. The Wanderers had held the cup the previous two years. The match was played on Toronto’s home ice, housed in a wood frame building in the city’s downtown. The building seated five thousand spectators and was used for a variety of sports. It had a concrete floor with a recessed area surrounded by the seats.  In the winter, they flooded the floor and let mother nature create the rink. The season had to end before the spring thaw. The Wanderers won the cup that year 6-4 on two late goals. Chuck Tyner retired from professional sports the following year and enrolled in seminary.
As with nearly all of the subjects of this sermon series, there’s quite a lot written about him, but very little of it is introspective. We know nothing about Fr. Tyner’s call to ministry . We know that he married a Canadian woman by the name of Mary, but we don’t know what moved him to come to the United States.  He next turns up in 1916, mentioned in an article in the Toronto World newspaper. It reads “old timers remember Chuck Tyner, all round amateur athlete and sportsman of the east end, proficient in lacrosse, baseball, hockey and boxing. Rev. Mr. Tyner is home from Lincoln, Nebraska where he has had a charge for several years, anxious to go to the front with the Sportsmen's Battalion. He is, of course, eligible as chaplain and his qualifications in the above games should give him preference over most preachers. Mr. Tyner has aged imperceptibly. He will present his credentials today to Lieut. Col. Greer.”
The Sportsmen’s Battalion was a military unit in the Canadian Expeditionary Force during World War I. For whatever reason, Fr. Tyner’s application to it was not successful. A year later the Ottawa Journal notes that “the Rev. Charles “Chuck” Tyner who played for Marlboro of Toronto several years ago and later with Branford and Montreal is going overseas with an American contingent.” He did serve in World War I, but in the US Army, rather than the Canadian.  He left behind his congregation at St. Luke’s in Lincoln when he departed for Europe.
          When he returned to Nebraska in 1919, he was called to the position of Dean at St. Mark’s pro-Cathedral in Hastings. St. Mark’s was the first church to be built west of Grand Island. All evidence indicates that Dean Tyner was popular, a sociable man with a great sense of humor and a skill for building community. In the congregation’s history on its web site, the comment on him is “who will ever forget this human dynamo.” Under his leadership, St. Mark’s engaged Ralph Adams Cram, one of the greatest architects of his generation, to design its new building. In an elaborate ceremony in September 1921, leaders of the congregation broke ground for the new building and the bishop laid the cornerstone in December, 1922. A few months later, Charles Tyner accepted a call from St. George’s Church in Kansas City. Again, we don’t know why he relinquished the position of dean to become a parish priest.
          At St. George’s his lively temperament and skill at building community were apparent. His name and picture appeared frequently in the newspapers. He spoke regularly to community groups and took a leadership role among the city’s clergy. Diocesan publications note the affection and respect that his colleagues had for him. His athletic interests didn’t fade as he entered into middle age. Fr. Tyner served as the president of the Kansas City Figure Skating Club and as a judge at its local competitions. He was seen frequently on the ice as a referee in local amateur hockey games.
          During the course of Fr. Tyner’s rectorship, St. George’s reached a great milestone:  the congregation paid off the mortgage on their church building. An elaborate celebration was planned with the Eucharist followed by a reception at which the mortgage would be ceremonially burned. A week before the date of the party, Fr. Tyner was injured in a rather serious car accident, necessitating a stay in the hospital. He was determined that the party would not be rescheduled and that he would be there. He spent the week persuading the attending physician to release him from the hospital long enough to attend. The doctor agreed, but only if he traveled by ambulance on a stretcher and did not rise from it for any reason. Fr. Tyner agreed. Another priest was engaged to preach and celebrate and the Kansas City Star carried a picture of Fr. Tyner, lying on a stretcher in his clerical collar with a huge grin on his face as ambulance attendants carried him into St. George’s.
          Another anecdote comes from two of my colleagues – The Rev’d. Harry Firth, known to some of you and the Rev’d. Bill Beachy. Both of them knew Fr. Tyner personally. They were newly ordained around the time he retired. He had not forgotten his days as a champion amateur boxer on a day when he was pulled over for speeding. When the officer came to the side of his car and informed him why he was being cited, Fr. Tyner opened the door and stepped out of the car. He raised his hands, closed his fists and playfully suggested that the two of them engage in an informal boxing match to determine whether or not he would receive a ticket. Neither of my colleagues knew what the officer’s reaction was to this challenge from a man in a clerical collar.
          He retired in 1952. He and Mrs. Tyner remained in Kansas City until his death in the mid-1960s. Twelve years after his retirement, the Star carried an account of an event organized by the altar guild of St. George’s, honoring Fr. and Mrs. Tyner. In the Missouri Valley Special Collection of local historical documents at our downtown library, you can see a scroll presented to the two of them at this event, expressing the affection and respect of the St. George’s Altar Guild. All of its members’ signatures appear on the scroll.
          Fr. Tyner’s obituary in the diocesan newsletter gives a sense of the great affection and respect felt for this energetic and faithful man with a great sense of humor. St. George’s Church continued on only about two decades after his passing.
          There is a season for everything. Nothing but God is eternal, but the divine is present in all creation, in the love we hold for one another that lives on. St. Mary’s received the gift of the history and legacy of St. George’s church when the two merged nearly three decades ago. God calls all of us. With some that call is clearly articulated and documented; with others the particulars of it remain mysterious but the reality of the call is unmistakable. With some people vocation is a clear and obvious path from childhood, through adolescence and into young adulthood. With others, the vocational path remains hidden early on, becoming clear only later in life, but there is no mistaking its truth. The story of St. George’s Church reminds us that we do not know the future holds. We can only remain faithful as it unfolds before us. Charles Tyner did that, with energy, good humor and devotion and today for his ministry we give thanks.

A portrait of Fr. Tyner as Rector of St. George's

Team photo of the 1908 Toronto Professionals. I think Charles Tyner is at the left end of the second row.




                

Thursday, October 24, 2013

The Saints of St. Mary's III - The Rev'ds. George Charles Betts and Minerson Erastus Buck

Today we continue with part III of the Saints of St. Mary’s, a series of sermons about the people who have, through the years, made our parish what it is.  Our subjects are two of the rectors who served the congregation when it still had its original name, St. Luke’s.
          The Rev’d. George Charles Betts was born in Dublin in 1840. He was ordained in Omaha in 1865. Around that time he became rector of St. John’s Church in Cass County, Nebraska, a couple of counties south of Omaha. He had come there from a Methodist Church in Denver, where he had been the minister in charge. It’s difficult to say what he was doing at a Methodist church in Denver, but in the mid 19th century it was difficult to find clergy willing to serve on the frontier. The Methodists may have been content to borrow him.
After a year or two at St. John’s he became Rector of Trinity Church in Omaha which would eventually become the Cathedral of the Diocese of Nebraska. The Cathedral sponsored a new mission church in the east end of the city which was organized on June 11, St. Barnabas Day in 1868.  Fr. Betts helped arrange for a loan for construction of a building and the first services were held there about six months later. It was organized as a parish with the name of St. Barnabas about six months after that inaugural service. Members of the Vestry offered its rectorship to Fr. Betts and he accepted their call on June 11, 1869. He appears to have served there well and happily for nearly three years. But on a Sunday in March 1872, he celebrated mass at St. Barnabas in the morning and received the bishop for a visit that evening. It was not a happy occasion. Fr. Betts’ high church tendencies were not pleasing to the bishop. Conflict over that issue was not uncommon at that time and there were strong opinions on both sides. The bishop “demanded that the rector relinquish the use of the chasuble or any other vestment save the surplice and black stole, that he direct the choir that they do not turn towards the altar when reciting the creed or the glorias and that the rector not make the sign of the cross in benedictions or elsewhere except in the baptismal office.” For a high churchman those instructions would have been impossible to tolerate. Fr. Betts declined to comply. He did promise that if the bishop could find any rule written in the church canons or elsewhere that prohibited the use of those objects, vestments and practices that the bishop wanted him to do away with, he would apologize and comply immediately.
The bishop tried again. He stated that it was his “wish” that they be done away with and because he wanted done, Fr. Betts ought to do it. Fr. Betts declined again. Shortly after that meeting with the bishop, he resigned his position as rector and left Omaha.
There was a church about 200 miles south that was happy to have him. St. Luke’s in Kansas City was 15 years old by then and had been served by several rectors, none of whom had stayed for much longer than a year.  A young, energetic priest with a skill for building membership and raising money was just what the vestry of St. Luke’s was looking for. One wonders if Fr. Betts was not pleased by the fact that in Kansas City he would more than two hundred miles away from the bishop of the diocese of Missouri. Fr. Betts went to work on refining the worship of St. Luke’s. One of the first things he did was have “a proper altar” built in the church building at 8th and Walnut. He put the choir in vestments and put a cross and candles on the altar. Members of the congregation liked it. They donated a processional cross and Eucharistic vestments. The parish organized a guild of young men, a women’s society and something called a “Pleasant Hour Club” for the matrons. There were so many people coming to church they had to enlarge the building. Fr. Betts began taking his show on the road, traveling with the choir to conduct worship in areas outside Kansas City. He was a 33rd degree mason and the choir occasionally provided music for various masonic events in the area. The men’s guild of St. Luke’s traveled with him to the jail in Wyandotte County where he presided at worship on Sunday afternoons. The choir sang at Vesper services – like our Evensong – at some of the Roman Catholic churches in the area. The history of our parish, notes that “The Rector of St. Luke’s was an institution of the city.” Two years after he became Rector, Fr. Betts was celebrating mass daily. A fair number of Episcopal Churches do that now, but in the late 19th century, morning prayer was the norm on Sundays, with the Eucharist celebrated once a month. To offer it daily was to identify a parish as truly Anglo-catholic. By all accounts, Fr. Betts was a huge success at St. Mary’s. Not only did he serve the parish well, he acted as a mentor to several young colleagues, offering them the opportunity to serve at St. Luke’s under his supervision before they took charge of parishes. In the spring of 1876 he received a call from Trinity Church in St. Louis and moved there. After a few years at Trinity, he took a parish in Louisville and then moved to New Jersey and on to New York.
As with nearly all of our spiritual ancestors at St. Mary’s most of the information we have about Fr. Betts is descriptive rather than introspective. He seems to have been an energetic and purposeful man with strong opinions. I mentioned that he was Irish by birth and throughout his life he supported the cause of Irish nationalism. While serving as Rector of Trinity, St. Louis, he became the president of the Irish National Convention. An account in the New York Times of an event honoring the memory of Robert Emmet, one of the great martyrs of the Irish Nationalist cause, lists Fr. Betts among the VIPs in attendance and describes an impassioned speech he gave that evening.  He is the first rector for whom we have a large portrait. It’s on the far right end on the north wall of the parish hall. We also have one candid photo of him standing on the porch of the church at 8th and Walnut. You can see that picture just inside the door at the back of the church.
All indications are that Fr. Betts remained a bachelor during his time as rector of St. Luke’s, but at some point he married and had two daughters, Annie and Mary, and a son who was named Herbert Keble Betts, I would suppose after George Herbert and John Keble, two well-known historical figures in the Church of England. Herbert made his living as an actor and was also commissioned as a lay preacher in the Episcopal Church.
Parishioner Thomas Pain knew Fr. Betts personally. Pain was an Englishman by birth and Fr. Betts’ Irish Nationalist sentiments might have made things tense between them, but it appears not to have. Pain writes of him “He was a Fenian, but said all his best friends were Englishmen and it was his love for England that made him work to free her from Ireland.” Fr. Betts died at the age of 61 in Goshen New York. He died late on a Saturday evening of heart failure. On his desk were found his sermon for the following morning and an address prepared for the annual meeting of his parish which was scheduled for that Sunday evening.
There is no doubt that Fr. Betts built St. Luke’s into a strong, vibrant and growing parish. They must have been sorry to see him go. There is little known of his successor, the Rev’d. Minerson Erastus Buck, compared with what we know of Fr. Betts, but it is interesting information. There is an entry about Fr. Buck in a multi-volume book called The United States Biographical Dictionary and Portrait Gallery of Eminent and Self-made Men. I believe he falls into the latter category. He was born to Minerson Erastus Buck, Sr. and his wife Maria Pierce Buck in Ravenna, Ohio in 1849. The family moved to Kalamazoo County, Michigan two years later. Erastus attended school and worked on his family’s farm during the summers until he was 15 years old.  The family’s circumstances offered him little chance of going to college. Instead, he left home to make his fortune. His family were Methodists, like many on the western frontier, but after leaving home the future Fr. Buck found an Episcopal Church where he fell in love with the liturgy and the Book of Common Prayer. He was determined to study for the priesthood and persuaded someone at Nashotah House Seminary in Milwaukee to admit him on the basis of his high school record. He earned his tuition by working as a farm laborer during the summer. By all accounts, he did well enough at Nashotah and was ordained deacon in the early 1870s. He served as deacon in charge of Trinity Church in Three Rivers Michigan. The parish was near collapse when he took charge of it. The parish had a half-finished building and debt of more than $2,000, but Deacon Buck rallied them. Parishioners were inspired to contribute enough money to retire the debt, complete construction of the church building and build a new spire on top of it.  Deacon Buck’s name appears among those of the clergy who met to organize the new diocese of Western Michigan in 1874.  They elected a bishop who ordained him to the priesthood the following spring.  He continued his work, now as Rector of Trinity Three Rivers until September, 1876 when he was elected Rector of St. Luke’s Church in Kansas City. He began his work there on the feast of St. Luke, October 18, of that year. The Biographical Dictionary of self-made men notes: “This call was entirely unsolicited, he was known to the people of the parish only by reputation as an able preacher and successful church financier.” When he arrived, St. Luke’s Kansas City is described as being in debt for $3,000 – perhaps for those expansions of the building made under Fr. Betts’. Fr. Buck had been in Kansas City only a year by the time the congregation raised enough money to pay it off. His biography suggests that he took part in the initial discussion of the creation of the Diocese of West Missouri, beginning about 10 years before the division actually took place. Fr. Buck became the Chaplain of a Group Called the Craig Rifles. It had organized originally during the Civil War under the name the Kansas City Guards. After the fighting ended, it was re-invented as a social and charitable organization emphasizing exhibition drills, flashy uniforms and an annual gala that was one of the town’s hottest tickets. One wonders what attracted this humble farmer’s son with no experience of fighting to a military organization. Perhaps the experience of being a boy too young to enlist during the civil war inspired his interest in the military.  Fr. Buck died of tuberculosis in Kansas City on January 20, 1879, having begun the process of changing the parish’s name from St. Luke’s to St. Mary’s. His body was returned to Kalamazoo for burial.
In this day, when the ordination process requires several years of qualification and scrutiny of one’s motives and accomplishments one wonders if the devotion and diligence of a man like Erastus Buck would have been enough to allow him to be ordained. At a time when the search for a new Rector can consume more than a year and involves extensive background checking and consultation with references, one wonders if a man like Fr. Betts who had run afoul of his bishop would have been called so easily to a new parish, or if a man like Fr. Buck would have been elected sight unseen. It is to our benefit that they were.
The history of St. Mary’s is filled with ups and downs, stories of financial and organizational stress and times of health and bounty. Through all of those years run the stories of gifted, unique and sometimes quirky leaders. Today as always, we give thanks for their ministry to this parish.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Saints of St. Mary's: Edward Clarke Hamill, October 13, 2013

            In a community like St. Mary’s with a very long history there are people whose stories are notable for their brief duration, sometimes tragically or scandalously brief. Others are known for what we might call spiritual longevity – a combination of commitment, faith, temperament and circumstance that allows them to engage with the community for a very long time. We continue today with part three of the Saints of St. Mary’s – a series of sermons about the people who have had a significant part in the history of our parish. I had mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I had been convinced that parts 1 and 2 of the series had exhausted the supply of spiritual forbears for whom we had adequate information to tell a story. Additional research has revealed enough subjects for a third series, which we continue today after a break last week for the blessing of animals.
            Edward Clarke Hamill is a name that some of us have heard or read. He donated the window on the north side with the picture of the nun and the little girl. It was a gift in memory of his mother Jennie. The window was installed in 1920. The nun is Sister Mary Frances, a member of the Order of the Holy Cross that was established at St. Mary’s around 1880. She was a teacher, and archival materials have suggested that the little girl depicted in the window is Edward Hamill’s mother, Jennie, but the dates really don’t fit. He had a sister, and perhaps the little girl is meant to represent her.
            He and his mother and sister became members of the parish when he was baptized by Fr. Betts at St. Luke’s Church on July 27, 1873 at the age of six. That was when parishioners still worshiped in the old building at 8th and Walnut, before the parish changed its name to St. Mary’s and moved here.  At the age of 10, Edward began to sing in the choir. He was confirmed on Ascension Day, 1881.  Fr. Jardine presented him to Bishop Robertson for confirmation. Young Mr. Hamill was elected to the vestry for the first time at the age of 18 during the last tumultuous year of Fr. Jardine’s service as Rector.
            Edward Hamill’s professional life started early and the trajectory of it mirrored his life at St. Mary’s in its long-term commitment. The story I read describes him as “a very active and mischievous boy” whose “worried guardian” was anxious to have him employed. In the materials I found about his life there is only one mention of Edward Hamill’s father, John. It appears that he died not long after Edward was born in Leavenworth. Jennie Hamill moved with her young son and daughter to Kansas City where friends or family took an interest in the children.  This guardian of young Edward approached a small wholesale drug business called Woodward Faxon & Company that had relocated from Lawrence to Kansas City, establishing itself at 511 Delaware Street. Edward went to work for them shortly after his 11th birthday, starting as a messenger boy. His boss, Mr. Horton, is described as having taken a paternal interest in him. Edward remained with the company which promoted him into positions of increasing responsibility as he grew older. The business changed hands and names several times, merged with competitors and continued to grow. On the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of his employment, the company honored Mr. Hamill with a surprise party to which all of its employees and customers were invited. By that time Fr. Merrill was Rector of St. Mary’s. He was also invited to the celebration and was responsible for getting the guest of honor and his wife to the party without revealing the surprise.  Mr. Hamill’s colleagues gave him a gold watch, a gift of money and many testimonials. Honored as he was to have his years of service recognized by the company, he was back at work the following Monday morning. It appears that he never retired, but continued to work until he died.
            In the account of this celebration, Mr. Hamill is described as the greeter at Faxon & Gallagher Drug Company. It’s hard to know exactly what the responsibilities for such a position might have been, but it had to do with building and maintaining customer relationships for the company. There is no indication that his formal education continued much past 5th grade since he went to work at the age of eleven. He seems not to have had anywhere near the kind of training in chemistry or pharmacy  that would be required for a technical position in a wholesale drug business.  All accounts describe him as friendly, energetic and genuine. His genius seems to have been in forming relationships and building community.  It was reflected in the prosperity and longevity of his company and in his service to St. Mary’s.
            Twenty years after his first election to the vestry, Edward Hamill married Rua Ellen Randall in this church on February 16, 1904. He was 37 years old. Fr. Stewart-Smith officiated at their marriage. As is true of many of the women parishioners of our church who lived in the 19th and early 20th centuries, little is known about his wife. By the time he married, Mr. Hamill had served more than once on the vestry and had been both Jr. and Sr. Warden.  He was the church’s Sunday school superintendent and continued to sing in the choir. He served as parish’s delegate to several diocesan conventions and served on various diocesan committees. It was a rare Sunday when he was not in church.
            In addition to his interpersonal gifts, Mr. Hamill is described as having a remarkable tenor voice. He was a member of Kansas City’s Apollo Club, a choral group with chapters in several American cities around the turn of the last century. He sang in the choir at St. Mary’s until a few months before he died. Other church choirs are said to have coveted his voice. Several local choir directors tried to lure him away, but he never looked elsewhere.
            Edward Hamill departed this life on November 11, 1941. At the requiem mass which was celebrated at the church on November 14, Bishop Spencer gave the eulogy. Mr. Hamill was buried in the parish cemetery. Eight weeks thereafter, members of the Vestry composed a written tribute to him, relating all the aspects of his long and faithful service to the parish and his devotion to his family. The tribute ends with the words, “all these qualities found their expression in the sanctity of his spirit and simplicity of his character. He shunned the limelight and still his memory speaks louder than words. His saintly life is enshrined indelibly in the hearts and minds of all who knew him. A rare soul has passed from our midst, but his influence and example will live on and on, undiminished through long years to come.” Six months after his death, on the feast of Pentecost, 1942, a memorial fund was established in his name to support the choir of St. Mary’s.
            Edward Clarke Hamill was born about 18 months after the civil war ended. He died a few weeks before the attack on Pearl Harbor. His membership in the church spanned three different versions of the Book of Common Prayer. His life speaks to the care and nurture of relationships and of his own spiritual life. Those two forms of stewardship are at the heart of life in the church. We choose to be here – as members of a parish and as worshipers on any particular Sunday. God calls us here, but our response to that call is up to us. Sometimes I wonder if many of you are aware of it but when you are not here on Sunday you are missed. Your absence isn’t noticed out of any kind of malice or criticism; it is noticed because you are absent from a community of mission and prayer whose members care about you. The relationships we build here are different from friendships at work, in the neighborhood or in social groups because they are built on the foundation of our baptismal covenant; they are friendships with a mission, the building of God’s kingdom. We really need everyone to take part in that. At this time of year, when parishioners are asked to make a financial commitment to next year’s operating budget, I hope that you will also consider a gift of your time and skill to the parish and choose to participate in the life of the parish in some new way next year.
            For the last few years at St. Mary’s we have put a lot of energy into growing the membership of the parish. It has been energy well spent, and we will continue to work to build our numbers, but it’s time also for us to be more intentional about growing in depth. During the coming year, we will offer opportunities for growth in the knowledge of our faith and our own spiritual lives. I hope that everyone here will participate and help to shape the kind of learning and experience St. Mary’s offers.

            People are disinclined to speak ill of one departed this life, but the accounts of Edward Hamill, as a churchman and as a professional are remarkable in the love and respect that they express. It’s true that they do not give the details of his rough edges or bad days, but this man accomplished something quite remarkable. He worked at the same company and worshiped at the same church for more than sixty years and was remembered with friendship, respect and admiration in both places when he died. In Edward Hamill, that care and attention to relationships reflected a profound knowledge of who and how God is. That depth of spiritual understanding requires nurture and practice. His life in this community gives us an example of how to build and care for relationships with others and our own relationship with God. We give thanks for the life and legacy of Edward Clarke Hamill.

Photo by Alistair Tutton

The Saints of St. Mary's: William Gillis, St. Michael and All Angels

          This Sunday opens our annual stewardship campaign. In recent years, sermons for this six-week interval in the fall have focused on the spiritual forbears of our congregation. Two years ago I thought that I had written a sermon about everyone for whom enough information was available. I did some more digging and I think we’re good for another year so I am happy to offer a third series of the Saints of St. Mary’s.
The name of one man appears on both the documents that incorporated the town of Kansas in June, 1850 and those that organized our parish in December, 1857. That is the name of William Gillis. He joined with a handful of other businessmen to gain official recognition of the town that had grown up on the Missouri River. At the time of its incorporation, the population was 1,500. Members of St. Mary’s have not been accustomed to think of him as having an important part in the history of our church – at least not as important as that of his niece, Mary Troost. But he was one of the founding members of what was then known as St. Luke’s Church.
          At the time it was organized its members had been meeting for about three years in borrowed worship space. A priest from Trinity Church in Independence traveled on foot or by mule the 12 miles between his parish  and the Town of Kansas about twice a month to lead worship. On the weeks he did not visit, members of the congregation read Morning Prayer. At one point, the Diocese of Missouri, based in St. Louis, arranged for a bishop to visit and celebrate baptisms and confirmations, giving the small congregation a sufficient number of confirmed members to qualify for parish status. Somewhere along the way – perhaps on that day – William Gillis became a baptized, confirmed communicant of the Episcopal Church.
          The other prominent men who signed the town’s incorporation papers and the parish’s founding documents knew him as a wealthy gentleman farmer and Indian trader who claimed to be a lifelong bachelor. He is described as a large, powerfully built man who dressed in elegant black clothing summer and winter.
          Gillis had made a long and colorful journey to his position of prominence and respect in Kansas City. He was a native of Maryland, born  between 1795 and 1797.  He ran away from home before his 12th birthday and joined the crew of a ship. During his time as a sailor, he made the acquaintance of William Henry Harrison, who eventually became the 9th president of the United States. Gillis fought under Harrison against the Shawnee leader Tecumseh at the Battle of Tippecanoe in 1811. Economic opportunity seems to have trumped any ideological fervor Gillis might have developed as a member of Harrison’s forces. In 1820 he made his way to southwest Missouri and began to trade with members of the Delaware tribe who had landed there in the great diaspora of indigenous peoples that followed the Revolutionary War. Gillis traded provisions, furs and other commodities with the Delaware for a decade during which he was said to have been made a member of the tribe. Around 1830, the Delaware living near what is now Springfield, Missouri were involuntarily relocated again to the junction of the Kaw and Missouri Rivers. Gillis moved along with them. His trade with them and other indigenous peoples had made him a wealthy man by that time and when he arrived in this area he bought thousands of acres of land for pennies each, eventually selling it at a vast profit. He kept for his own plantation a tract of land bordered by what are now 23rd and 27th streets and Summit and State Line. He selected it for its proximity to the Shawnee trail which would facilitate his continued trade with the Indians.  Gillis’ home was described as one of the most beautiful, gracious and elegant residences in the town, designed and furnished along the lines of a southern plantation. The farm labor on his land was conducted by slaves.
          It is difficult to know what level of involvement William Gillis had in our parish. During its early years he is listed as a vestryman, and it is noted that he, along with other wealthy leaders of the congregation contributed funds to provide an operating budget and a priest’s compensation. His death predates the construction of this building. There are no tangible memorials here to Gillis’ participation in the life of the congregation. I found no information that revealed anything about his inner life or personality. The one subjective comment I found was the observation of one of his contemporaries that Gillis was consumed by the acquisition of ever greater wealth and reluctant to part with what he already possessed. Whether that was true we will probably never know.
          Gillis died in July 1869. Despite his vast wealth, his will was relatively simple but very curious. The bulk of the estate went to Gillis’ niece Mary who by that time had become Mrs. Benoist Troost. But there were two additional bequests of $10 each to two daughters of a woman described as a member of the Delaware tribe with whom Gillis had traveled to this area in 1830. One of these additional heiresses was also named Mary the other was Sophia and the will noted that they were sometimes known as Mary Gillis and Sophia Gillis. For a man who had represented himself to society as a lifelong bachelor, this was an interesting revelation.
          It became more interesting three and a half years later with the untimely death of his niece Mary Troost. In 1872, just before Christmas, she traveled to Pennsylvania to visit a friend. She arrived to find the town in the grip of a dreadful smallpox epidemic. Mrs. Troost fell ill almost immediately and died within days of her arrival. Her will included the bequest of land for the construction a church named St. Mary’s at what is now the corner of 13th and Holmes. You are in that church. More than a decade transpired between her death and the transfer of land to our parish which changed its name in 1879 to St. Mary’s. Materials in our archives suggest that the long transition had to do with the short time between the deaths of William Gillis and Mary Troost and the incomplete revision of her will to incorporate the bequest of her uncle.
          What really happened is that after Mrs. Troost’s death, numerous persons claiming to be legitimate children of William Gillis from his days as an Indian trader contested both of the wills, claiming that Mary Troost had exerted undue influence over her uncle. The lawsuits stated that William Gillis had been legally married at least twice and associated more casually with a number of other women and that these relationships had produced as many as a dozen children. The plaintiffs claimed that their status as legitimate children trumped that of his niece Mrs. Troost. It took more than a decade to finalize Gillis’ will and 35 years to settle that of Mary Troost. Most of the claims against the will were found to be without merit, but not all of them. Sums awarded to Gillis’ legitimate heirs other than his niece Mary and four decades of litigation dramatically reduced the value of her estate but the impact of its charitable intent is still alive today in Kansas City and in this building.
          Today we observe the feast of St. Michael and All Angels. Michael and Gabriel are known traditionally as guardians of the church. As with many churches, St. Mary’s has windows that commemorate these two saints positioned on either side of the altar. They are the easternmost upper windows on either side  and I encourage you to look for them when you come to the altar rail for communion. Our spiritual ancestor, William Gillis, whose life we explore this morning, is, by our standards, neither saint nor angel.  His contemporaries suggest that he was a miser. He enslaved other human beings and his interactions with indigenous persons give us reason to question his motives and morals. What do we make of this former vestryman, this founding member of our church? His life began when the United States was one of the world’s newest sovereign nations. He arrived in our city when its claims to fame were a post office and a population of 300. He had an opportunity to reinvent himself and seems to have taken advantage of it. Did he assume a respectability that he did not truly deserve? If he did, was it to protect the reputation of his niece or to augment his already substantial fortune or for some other reason? Should we try to disown him? make excuses for him? write him off as an aberration? give thanks for his good sense in giving most of his loot to a more respectable and generous relative?
          Whatever conclusions we might draw on the basis of legal documents or his contemporaries’ observations, we know almost nothing about what this man felt or thought or believed. What we know is that in addition to founding a town and making a fortune, he joined with his contemporaries in establishing an Episcopal church in a town that had none. While it is true that they could have done it without him, it appears likely that we have him to thank, at least indirectly, for the land on which this building stands.
 William Gillis was a man of his place and time. The record of his actions indicates that he engaged in racist behavior. The Episcopal Church in his day was not innocent of racism and its actions as an institution were destructive of the autonomy of indigenous persons and disrespectful of their cultural achievements. We know more now. We as individuals and as a society are not yet free of the sin of racism, but we are far more aware of what it is and the harm it does than the people of this city were 150 years ago. The church has offered us opportunities to learn and ways to seek forgiveness. St. Mary’s has given us a community in which to live out the promises in our baptismal covenant to strive for justice and peace and respect the dignity of all persons.
          At this time of year in particular we examine our vision for the future of St. Mary’s and the means by which it will be realized. A look at our past helps to put that in perspective. Nearly 156 years after William Gillis signed the documents that organized this church, we are still here. We do not share many of his values or approve of much of his behavior, but he has a part in our being here this morning.  More importantly, as our Old Testament lessons says, God has surely been present with us through those 156 years, in good times and bad; the Lord who will keep us in all times and who will do for us what he has promised.