{Who reads these italicized introductions? Since you are, they are meant to introduce my Lenten theme for 2021, and lead the reader into a sanctuary of my choosing. Thanks for reading this…and what follows.}

The hulking remains of that Gothic church appear to be ancient ruins of a medieval cathedral, the likes of which we’ve seen throughout England, Scotland, and other areas of Europe. But this was never a church. Though it was meant to be. Located in the town of St. George’s in Bermuda, this structure is a testament to “best laid plans,” financial failures, and church in-fighting. On the way up the hill where “The Unfinished Church” has stood for well over a century, there is an historical marker naming the site “The Folly of St. George,” not exactly what the founders had in mind when they wanted to replace another church in town.

Around 1874 (various accounts offer inconsistent dates), a storm destroyed St. Peters Church. Built in wood post construction with a thatched roof of palmetto leaves, it didn’t stand a chance against those common Bermudan winds. Shortly thereafter, the Anglican community, taking a cue from the three little pigs perhaps, determined to build a solid rock church that would withstand high winds and hurricanes. Designed by William Hay, the Scottish-born architect who would later draw the plans for the cathedral in Hamilton, the church would be named St. George’s. But by 1899, with construction well under way, the church was abandoned.

The less-than-documented story is that three things contributed to the Anglicans never worshipping in their sanctuary. There were financial struggles, in-fighting among the church members, and the final blow, quite literally, was a hurricane in 1926 that knocked down some of the unfinished construction. Whatever last hopes for the church’s life were, as noted, blown away. Since that time, what had been the dream of a substantial Gothic church building became simply a popular Bermuda tourist attraction. (Even that was interrupted for a few years recently when visitors were banned from entering the ruins due to the instability of the stone pillars and walls.)

This could well be a chicken/egg situation. Was it the in-fighting that contributed to the financial problems of funding the new church? Or, did the money issues bring in-fighting among the Anglican community in St. George’s? I’ve read that some of the dissent in the parish had to do with the church design itself. Not surprisingly, some folks just wanted the new church to look like the old one. What a surprise! If people don’t agree with the design, then they won’t fund it. So there. Again, not having done deep research for this Lenten series of mine, I’ll admit that the financial concerns may have been rooted in wider conditions over which the church had little control.

My own upstate New York church has roots going back to a Dutch Reformed community that began meeting in a log structure in 1791. Within a few years, the church closed due to financial reasons, but also due to an epidemic of malaria. In 1819, the church was re-organized by Presbyterians who had the resources to build a “proper” church on the original site. While the church eventually moved closer to the heart of the growing village, we will meet near that first site for our outdoor, socially-distanced Easter services. My point is that nearly every faith community since the Apostle Paul began his new church developments (as we call them today) has faced financial stress. And other threats over which the community has little influence. Some churches survive. Some don’t. Ours did. St. George’s didn’t.

As for the in-fighting? Again, even from the days of the earliest Christian communities (read the Book of Acts), the family has had its squabbles, sometimes over doctrine, other times over the color of the new carpet. On the denominational level or within the local church, people of faith hold differing opinions and attitudes. And often, it gets personal. There are arguments over the minister’s style of, well, you name it: preaching, visiting, administration, even clothing. Even I, wonderful as I am in so many ways (just ask my wife), was the victim of a posse in one of the churches I served. Maybe not in-fighting per se, but certainly a threat to the church’s general spiritual health. But we all survived. St. George’s didn’t.

And the evidence stands there as a foreboding waste of rocks.

So, now some clarification from the website of the current and historic (and surviving) church of St. Peter’s, which, it turns out, was resurrected after that 1874 storm. It is over 400 years old, being the oldest Anglican Church outside the British Isles, and the oldest Protestant church in continuous use in the New World. As for that in-fighting so long ago, it wasn’t just over the design of the new church; it involved familiar disagreements over high church (Anglican) or low church (Protestant) theology. And the financial thing? While the ill-fated St. George’s church languished unfinished, the diocese needed funding for the new cathedral in Hamilton, and there just wasn’t enough money to go around. Maybe the big winner in all this was William Hay. He got to design both churches, the one in Hamilton in which worshippers gather in a magnificent towering sanctuary, and the one pictured here, in which curious tourists walk the grassy floor, gaze up at the sky, and wonder at the folly that faith couldn’t finish.