For several years while I pastored Christ United Methodist Church in Deerfield, I held a three-hour Good Friday vigil in the sanctuary. I had written a dramatic retelling of the Passion story and so every 15 minutes, I would stand read a passage from John, read a bit of my own writing and then sit back down in the silence. A handful of people would come in and out during those hours and I was glad to do it.  

But by year four of offering this vigil, I was having second thoughts. Three hours is a good chunk of time that I could be using to prepare for Easter Sunday. After all, only a few people came to the vigil, but many more would come on Sunday. That’s where my energy should go! 

But there was one person who always stayed the whole time and every year in the days leading up to Good Friday, he would tell me, “I’m really looking forward to the vigil.” So I would, albeit a little grudgingly, continue to offer it.

Every Easter I would send out notes, emails, texts, Facebook messages, carrier pigeons, whatever it took to the sporadic attenders of my church and encourage them to come on Easter. I would pray that visitors would make their way to us and that something about the service would compel them to return. A lot of my energy would go toward the maybes. A little of my energy would go toward the certains, like the one individual who stayed for the entire Good Friday vigil.

I don’t think these are bad impulses, but as we celebrate the Easter season and look ahead to Pentecost in the hopes that newcomers will continue to attend, I hope we also take a few moments to give thanks for the faithful few who are there, come rain or shine. I confess I did not do that very often. But they are the Marys of our churches, those who stayed and stay close to the cross when death appeared. And those likely are the ones who will continue to quietly proclaim resurrection. I give thanks for the faithful few in our congregations!