[Detroit, Mich: February 25, 2009]

By Herb Gunn

When thieves broke into St. Philip’s and St. Stephen’s on Detroit’s east side in mid-February, they slipped back into the night with more than they could imagine. Lost in the break-in—not the first at St. Philip’s and St. Stephen’s during the winter—was food, clothing, bed sheets, a microwave and vacuum, a barely functional copier, a fax machine, the only computer that worked, and a 200-pound safe. They also took the diapers and infant formula.

“They took anything that could be sold,” said Jane Johnson, a member for 22 years and a prime mover of the small church of a dozen members and its neighborhood outreach ministry, Trudy’s Loving Center.

What Johnson could only itemize with tears was what can’t be sold on the street—even though it also runs in short supply. The thieves stole what remained of their hope and confidence, and with the loss of that treasure, St. Philip’s and St. Stephen’s voted to close. The congregation’s vote to close initiates a canonical process that involves the bishop, the Diocesan Council and the Standing Committee.

The decision to close unfolded slowly over the past two years, during which time the parish remained in conversation with representatives of the Bishop’s Office to explore a range of options.

Finances were so strained in 2007, Jim LaSovage, a member of the church since 1972 and co-founder of Trudy’s Loving Center, told the congregation they would have to go month-to-month to see how long the church could remain open. They patched together funding for the center, but the survival of the worshipping community at St. Philip’s and St. Stephen’s hung on hope that a struggling Detroit inner-city church would miraculously turn around.

Members of St. Philip’s and St. Stephen’s had attended the several urban strategy plenaries in 2002-04, and applied the prescribed strategy of matching ministry to the needs of the church’s immediate neighborhood. Trudy’s Loving Center, a safe haven and resource for families and at-risk mothers, opened in 2005 and was named in memory of Trudy LaSovage. It offers women of the neighborhood the help and hospitality that Trudy offered them before her death.

The center added an after-school program last fall that is attended by 19 children three afternoons a week. In addition, Johnson remembers only one summer in 25 years that St. Philip’s and St. Stephen’s did not have a summer camp program that delivered on a simple commitment to make sure the neighborhood children received at least one good meal a day.

The spirit of the core leaders at St. Philip’s and St. Stephen’s—Johnson, LaSovage, and Deacon John Fitzgerald who has been at the church since the mid-1960s—was indefatigable, even during years of struggle. Finances were never secure, but even a $3,000 heating and utilities bill last January didn’t sound the death knell for the church’s confidence.

In a preliminary tally at the annual meeting on February 1, parishioners voted 9-5 to remain open, but Johnson and LaSovage, both members of the vestry, voted to close. Concerned that to remain open would incur debt for the diocese, Johnson resigned from the vestry following the vote.

Perhaps in a harbinger of the church’s gamble to survive, Johnson, LaSovage, and a few other members left the church that day with a pact to buy lottery tickets. Those numbers didn’t add up either.

The parish’s decision to close now goes before Diocesan Council on March 21 when council meets in East Lansing. A few days later, the Standing Committee will discuss the church’s decision. If the two bodies concur with the decision to close, plans will be made in accordance with diocesan canons to cele-brate St. Philip’s and St. Stephen’s history, mini-stry, and contributions to the life of the diocese, explained Bishop Gibbs.

The fate of Trudy’s Loving Center, a separate 501(c)3, hangs in the balance. Although she has circulated a handful of grant applications for consideration—and the center leadership continues to brainstorm scenarios for relocating—Johnson is slowly realizing the magnitude of what weighs against their efforts.

“I was real gung-ho last week about staying [open],” Johnson explained on Ash Wednesday, “until the break-in. The break-in said to me ‘we’ll never be protected.’ It would cost $2,400 for bars on the windows, but this time, they crow-barred the door.”

Johnson spent that week contacting a host of groups that use the center—the grandmothers’ support group, a women’s support group, classes on sewing, computers and resume building. All the classes were canceled. The families of the children in the afternoon program were notified that the center may close before the end of the school year.

Ironically, as a member of Dio-cesan Council, Johnson serves on the Extended Ministries Fund Phase One Task Force that is trying to discern how best to use the reservoir of EMF funds for ministry and mission. Years ago, she served on the Urban Affairs Committee, so she is familiar with the challenges of urban ministry.

“I look at the Extended Ministries Fund [with hope that the money could be used to extend existing ministries], but it’s too late for us. And it will probably be too late for other ministries, since [the task force] is just in phase one and phase two isn’t even on the drawing board yet,” she lamented.

Johnson recounted a note that LaSovage gave her on a day when she felt particularly overcome. “We have climbed the mountain; now it’s time to rest,” the note read.

Although Johnson recognizes the wisdom of the message, it’s not without a whimper. “I want to say to God, but at whose price?”