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Sermon & Annual Meeting Address – 1 Corinthians 12.12-31a, EP3, YC, January 26, 2025

12 Wednesday Feb 2025

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One of the things we do on Annual Meeting Sunday is install new Vestry Members.  Even though only one third of the Vestry rotates on and off each year, I always remind Vestries that we become a new, changed body every year.  Each of those nine members bring different gifts, talents, and insights.  Each of those members shifts the tone and tenor of our work, and helps us dance a little bit differently.  I was reminded of this reality last week.  When talking about a retiring Vestry member, another member said, “What’s so cool about him is that he does not speak often, but when he does everyone gets really quiet because the insight he offers is so profound.”  That feedback was entirely true – and that feedback reminded of me of another Vestry member much earlier in my tenure at Hickory Neck who would do the same thing – come in toward the end of a conversation with an insight none of us had seen but was entirely needed.

That is the funny thing about bodies – we need all our parts to be the best versions of our bodies.  I think that is why Paul leans into the metaphor of a body to describe the followers of Christ in first Corinthians.  As one scholar writes, “The human body has 206 bones, 693 muscles, and about 6 pounds of skin, along with ligaments, cartilage, veins, arteries, blood, fat, and more.  Every time we hear a sound; every time we take a step; every time we take a breath, hundreds of different parts work together so that what we experience is a single movement, our minds and bodies working as one unit.  Even the great engineers struggle to achieve anything like [the body] in mechanical form.  The human body represents one of the most complex systems in existence.”[i]

For Paul, that super complex system represents the body of Christ – the way each part of the body (or in this case, each member of the church) is not just a belonging member, but is a member whose participation is vital – the whole body is thrown out of balance when we are not all using our gifts.  Scholar Raewynne Whiteley explains, “Every single person in the church matters – the homebound elderly, babies, those with disabilities, and well as the generous givers and hard workers.  This is a reality we can name, which has less to do with equality than with wholeness.  Only with all our members can the body of the church be whole.”[ii]

This last year, we saw what wholeness looks like at Hickory Neck.  Tech team members and pop-up prayer leaders who stream worship online connect us to homebound members, overstretched families who cannot make their way to church but want to pray with us, and those unchurched in our wider community who want to see if they have a place in this body before braving the doors that open to super friendly (sometimes overwhelmingly so) Hickory Neckers.  Retirees who live far from their families and have very little interaction with children in the daily lives connect with children whose own grandparents may live far away and whose parents may be frazzled just by trying to get the family in the car on Sunday mornings.  College students who love to sing but maybe have an estranged relationship or no relationship with the Church connect with a community who cares about the poor and hear sermons from clergy that help them think about faith and politics a little differently. 

And that is just the everyday Sunday at Hickory Neck.  If we are to believe Paul’s metaphor that we are a complex body of parts that need one another, we need only to look at the long list of moving parts in our community in the last year:  from 5 baptisms, 2 first communions, 11 confirmations/receptions/ reaffirmations, and 1 wedding; from 19 members of Discovery Class, 25 participants in Godly Play classes at the Kensington School, and countless volunteers during the Winter Shelter; from a brand new Choir Camp with 20 children, guest concerts with well over 100 attendees each time, to a guest choir of 38 high school students from New Jersey; from over 13,000 points of pastoral care from clergy, an increase in pledges by over $17,000, and an increase in average Sunday attendance by 8%.  This is a complex community, who is not only content with daily operations but is ever trying new things like a Cursillo Eucharist, St. Patrick’s Day Liturgy, a children’s Chorister program, Holy Vino fundraiser, a new organ, a Finance Committee, and even a priest as a dancing star in Williamsburg.  When Bishop Haynes visited us in 2024, and said we are a vibrant, thriving community, this is what she meant.

Now, there is an inherent tension about being a body with varying parts, as Paul reminds us.  As scholar Karen Stokes explains, “There will always be differences with a congregation – differing opinions, experiences, priorities, needs – and it is dangerous to try to play down those differences in the interest of some superficial harmony.  When this natural diversity within a congregation is not allowed to be expressed openly, subtle judgments are communicated:  when the ear gets the message that it would really be better if [the ear] were an eye, when the foot realizes the community values hands more highly.”[iii]  If we do not let the uniqueness of each part be celebrated, when we face changes, anxieties can increase.  And Stokes goes on to say, “Anxiety lessens once’s ability to be imaginative, creative, and self-reflective, and instead causes reactivity, defensiveness, even paranoia”[iv] 

We have been talking a lot the last couple of weeks about our finances and our need for increased revenue to support our vibrant, varied ministries.  Those conversations have brought up a lot of anxiety.  After nine years at Hickory Neck, I have come to recognize that every January is similar – talk of finances gets all of us anxious.  As I have been marinating on Paul’s body metaphor and thinking about the miracle of such diverse parts working so harmoniously together, and as I reflected on 2024 and how we started with anxiety around budgets twelve months ago and managed to power through a tremendous year of vibrant ministry, I find I am looking toward 2025 with renewed confidence.  Perhaps this is the time of year when we are reminded that we are not all ears or feet or eyes.  We will not see ministry the same or hold the same opinions.  Even though we might approach ministry differently, we are all here to see the body do what the body of Christ does best – love God, love self, and love neighbor. 

Just a few weeks ago, I was talking to a first-time visitor who was looking for a new church home.  She heard about Hickory Neck from another new family to Hickory Neck and was able in that one Sunday to see a place for her family here.  That experience tells us all something powerful:  we may be a body that is complex, and beautiful, and sometimes anxious because of our differences; but we are also a body who honors how every person who comes through that door is a part we did not even realize we were missing and who we are thrilled to welcome into their unique contribution to our whole.  Having seen church communities who are not open to new body parts being added, I can tell you, having that experience made me realize we are a beautiful, complex, fabulous body, made possible by the gifts of the Spirit, who works in and through each of us.[v]  Our work this year is to let the Spirit use us to be awesome ears, eyes, feet, tendons, and muscles.  I cannot wait to see what the Spirit does with this fabulous body in 2025!  Amen.

[i] Raewynne J. Whiteley, “Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. C, Vol. 1 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 279.

[ii] Whiteley, 283.

[iii] Karen Stokes, “Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. C, Vol. 1 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 280.

[iv] Stokes, 280.

[v] Whiteley, 283.

Sermon – Mark 1.21-28, EP4, YB (Annual Meeting Address), January 28, 2024

14 Wednesday Feb 2024

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Before our family left for our cross-country trip during this summer’s sabbatical, I had been warned by a fellow parishioner.  “I never really understood the word ‘awesome’ until I saw the Grand Canyon,” she told me.  The word awesome seemed so underwhelming – maybe because we use the word for things that are less than awesome – an awesome movie, an awesome meal, an awesome day.  But as I stood at the rail, overlooking the massiveness of the Grand Canyon my brain scrambled.  It was as if my brain could not comprehend the sheer vastness of the view in front of me – how far does the canyon stretch?  How deep is the bottom?  How long did it take those specks that must be hikers to get there?  Or maybe, more deeply, how did God conceive of such an indescribably beautiful thing.  As tears welled in my eyes at the Grand Canyon’s inconceivability, I finally understood the word:  awesome.

In today’s Gospel, that is the reaction of the crowd to Jesus.  Jesus comes into the temple on the sabbath and teaches like no other teacher has.  The teachers they know “always say, ‘as Moses said,’ or ‘as Rabbi so-and-so said.’  Jesus [speaks] with a quiet but compelling authority all of his own.”[i]  And the people are astonished, awestruck, amazed.  And their amazement does not stop with Jesus’ unique authority in his teaching.  They see his unique words carry with them power to make the unclean clean.[ii]  Like standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, their minds are scrambled.  They cannot understand this new thing.  They are just beginning to taste what one scholar describes as “One of the salient characteristics of [the Gospel of] Mark…the motif of surprise, wonder, awe, and fear…reactions [that] embrace all aspects of Jesus’ ministry…”[iii]  Those gathered today watch Jesus and can clearly say he is awesome.

This past year of ministry at Hickory Neck has struck me in a similar way.  I have stepped back many a time and looked at this community with a sense of awe.  I have told you repeatedly that one of the core values of Hickory Neck is our sense of curiosity – our willingness to try new things.  I talk about that core value a lot because that core value is extremely uncommon in churches.  Put more simply:  our core value of experimentation and playfulness is awesome.  I watched as your Sabbatical Team and your Vestry this past year embraced the idea of mutual sabbatical with gusto, confidence, and playfulness.  I watched as this parish didn’t just look at sabbatical as an obligation or a burden to bear, but as an opportunity to grow, try on new things, and encounter God in fresh ways.  I watched you learn, laugh, and love.  I watched you push yourselves and encourage one another.  I watched you grow in your relationship with God and one another.  And the view was awesome!

But I also watched you in the hard things this past year.  I watched as you grieved, struggled in your faith, and said goodbye to dear friends – all while embracing and comforting one another.  I watched our Stewardship Team take on a hefty deficit budget and decide to try a new approach to stewardship that felt uncomfortable, unfamiliar, and hard – and yet ended the year not only not incurring a deficit, but only using 8% of the savings we planned to use.  I watched as your Vestry held itself accountable to strategic goals the Vestry set for itself and I watched the Vestry struggle through hard questions of process and systems – and I saw the Vestry grow into the fullness of their leadership.  I watched a community struggle with decreased volunteerism and long-held preferences for the “way we have always done things,” – and I watched our community step boldly into doing things differently.  And I have to tell you, even (and maybe especially) in the hard stuff of ministry, the view has been awesome!

We started 2023 as almost two communities:  those long-timers who have been a part of Hickory Neck for ages but were away during long portions of the pandemic; and those newer members who made their way to Hickory Neck during- and post-pandemic who didn’t have a clue how things had “always been done” but knew they have found something special in this community.  One of our hopes had been that these two communities within a community would use our time of sabbatical to form a new Hickory Neck – to build a new way of being that involved shared leadership, creative ministries, and fresh encounters with the sacred.  I stand here today in wonder as I look at Hickory Neck a year later and I have to tell you:  the view is awesome!

We head into 2024 with some revenue challenges, with some needs for increased participation and leadership, and with the tensions that always exist in a growing church.  But we also head into 2024 with a renewed sense of wonder and awe in all that God is doing in this place.  From reenergized ministries to the wider community:  hosting the homeless, building beds for the children in our community who haven’t had a bed, feeding the hungry, and clothing those who struggle; to fresh, creative ministries that we have never tried before:  a children’s music ministry that will launch this summer with a chorister camp; to invitations to grow closer to that Jesus who is truly awesome – through liturgies, study, and service.  God has incredible things in store for us this year:  and the view is awesome!  Amen.    

[i] N.T. Wright, Mark for Everyone (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), 11.

[ii] Gary W. Charles, “Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. B, Vol. 1 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 311.

[iii] John R. Donahue and Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of Mark, Sacra Pagina Series, vol. 2 (Collegeville, MN:  Liturgical Press, 2002), 79.

Sermon – Luke 5.1-11, EP5, YC (Annual Meeting), February 6, 2022

25 Wednesday May 2022

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As we reflect back on a year of ministry here at Hickory Neck, we see two realities.  On the one hand, we are tired.  After almost two years of a pandemic, I like to say we have been pivoting so much there is a significant divot in this sacred ground.  We have been in and out of in-person worship, in and out of tightened and lessened restrictions, we have had moments of renewal where it felt like things were getting close to normal, and then moments where the rug was snatched out from under us, and we felt like we were back to square one.  We miss our friends, we want to get back to the work of ministry that has fed us in the past or that drew us to Hickory Neck as a newcomer, we want to experience deepened relationships that come from coffee hours and parties and crowded worship spaces.  We are weary emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

I think that is why I love our gospel lesson so much today.  Jesus and the disciples have been out on the boat all day and night, and the disciples have been working through the night to catch fish to feed their merry band of followers.  When they catch nothing, Jesus says to Simon Peter, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”  Now what Simon actually says is, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing.”  But what I like to imagine is Peter’s tone – or even what Peter was really saying in those eleven words.  In my mind, what Peter is really saying is, “Look, sir.  I get that you are trying to help, and I get that you are wise enough for us to be following you.  But I am the fisherman, and I think I know a little bit more than you on this one.  And quite frankly, I’ve been at this all night.  I am exhausted and weary, and not really interested in your next big idea.”  Of course, what he says instead (with I suspect not only skepticism but also a bit of insincere, sarcastic, feigned respect) is, “Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”

We have all slipped into Peter’s attitude at times in the last year.  Sure, we’ll keep meeting on Zoom.  Sure, we will put the masks back on.  Sure, we’ll wait to schedule the funeral, or the baptism, or the wedding.  Sure, we’ll keep watching online worship.  That sense of frustration is totally normal and we’re lucky if it doesn’t happen more often than not.  But what that frustration can do is blind us to abundance.  If Peter had held his ground and not put down the nets, he would have missed the brilliant thing that happens next in the story.  After trying all night long, using all their gifts and talents and finding nothing, they had no logical reason to say yes to Jesus – to follow Jesus’ invitation to try again.  But when Simon Peter and the other disciples do, they catch so many fish their nets almost break.  Saying yes to Jesus leads to shocking, life-giving abundance.

That is the second reality of this past year for Hickory Neck.  As wearying as this last year has been, there have been so many incredible moments of overflowing abundance.  Whether when we tasted communion for the first time after a long hiatus, whether we were able to sing together after months of silence or lonely singing with a computer screen, whether we were able to safely embrace for the first time in a long time, or whether we were able to see someone’s face on Zoom – hearing the sound of their beautiful laughter – those moments have been abundant.  That deep divot from pivoting on this sacred ground has meant that we have reached isolated aging church members online, by phone call, or by card.  That deep divot has meant that people we had never met before the pandemic have found us online and come to know us in person, bringing us the gift of joy and renewed community.  That deep divot means that we have reconnected with Jesus, being confirmed, received, and reaffirmed by our Bishop.  That deep divot means that even with restrictions we have celebrated lives lived, consecrated new marriages, and baptized babies and toddlers.  That deep divot means that families in our neighborhoods have come to learn that Hickory Neck loves them and understands how hard being a parent and a student is right now.  That deep divot means those who are hungry and homeless have come to know comfort.  That deep divot has been filled to the brim with the abundance that we can only know by answering the call of Jesus over and over again – even when we are weary and want to tell Jesus to back off.

That is our invitation for 2022.  When Simon Peter and the disciples get back to land, they don’t take all those fish and eat a big feast.  They do not sell the fish and take the saved treasure for whatever might come.  No, they leave the overflowing abundance behind, and they follow Jesus.  The abundance was not simply a reward for good, faithful service.  The abundance was a reminder of what life with Jesus is all about.  That is our invitation today too.  When we look at that deep divot of 2021, seeing the ways that deep well overflows with the goodness of this past year, we are invited not to linger by the well of comforting abundance, hoarding it for ourselves.  We are invited to see the abundance and walk confidently into another year, knowing that continuing to follow Jesus will lead to more divots and much, much more abundance.  I could not be more excited to see how Jesus will use Hickory Neck for goodness this year.  We are emboldened today by all that God has done thus far in these hard times.  And now, we are asked to trust that the Holy Spirit has many more good things in store as we seek to care for one another and as we seek to care for those outside our walls.  Our invitation is to trust God with boldness and follow Jesus into this next year with Hickory Neck.  Amen.

Sermon – Matthew 3.13-17, E1, YA, January 12, 2020

22 Wednesday Jan 2020

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This sermon was delivered on the occasion of our Annual Meeting at Hickory Neck Episcopal Church.  

As I have been preparing for our Annual Meeting, I have been thinking how grateful I am to have John as our companion today as we look back at a year of ministry and look forward toward what is to come.  In general John is not my favorite character in scripture.  He always seems a bit extreme – sort of like that overly enthusiastic street corner preacher to whom you carefully give a wide berth and with whom you avoid eye contact for fear of having to explain how your understanding of Jesus is a bit different from theirs.  But today, I find resonance with John.

When Jesus asks John to baptize him, John’s immediate response is to resist.  John’s response is the classic, “But that’s not how we’ve always done it,” response.  This year, Hickory Neck had countless opportunities to respond like John.  When our Sunday School program elected to repurpose an unused classroom that had become storage because our Godly Play program had grown so much, we could have resisted the change and associated work involved.  When our Curate suggested we try out Ashes-to-Go on Ash Wednesday, we could have easily come up with myriad reasons why our property was not suited for such a program.  When our Praise Band decided to take a break from worship leadership and try Jam Sessions as a way to cultivate praise music in our community, we could have easily resisted their discernment and their creativity.  When the Kensington School offered to take over the children’s station at our Fall Festival, we could have easily gotten in the way or resisted their leadership.  When our Outreach Committee suggested we take on a week of the Winter Shelter by ourselves, separating from our long-time two-week sharing pattern with St. Martin’s, we could have resisted the change because we have never done Winter Shelter that way.  The opportunities to respond with John-like resistance have been overwhelmingly present over the last year.

Fortunately for us, Hickory Neck is a community who, like John works through innate human and communal tendencies toward resistance to change, and instead, embraces consent.  When John initially resists Jesus, Jesus comes back to John with an invitation to trust him.  John and Jesus engage in an open relationship of dialogue.  And, Matthew tells us, quite simply, “Then John consented.”  Matthew’s simplicity can belie how tremendous John’s consent is.  John’s consenting means letting go of control, letting go of the comfort of familiarity, letting go of the confidence that you are right and the other is wrong.  Those three little words, “Then he consented,” reveal John’s trust, John’s courage, and John’s humility.  John’s consent is not passive or weak.  John’s consent is bold!

That is what I have seen in Hickory Neck in this last year of ministry.  We have been bold!  When your Vestry formed this time last year, they took on a year-long process of visioning and strategic planning.  You will learn more about that process in the coming months, but I can tell you the Vestry has exhibited a lot of trust, courage, and humility as they looked at who we are and where we are going.  Hickory Neck has been bold in other areas too.  When our Parish Life team decided to resurrect the Shrove Tuesday Talent Show, I was uncertain how the Talent Show would go.  But we spent the night laughing, playing, and glorifying God in bold ways.  When the Kensington School invited us to teach Godly Play as an elective class, I was almost certain we would not have anyone sign up.  But out of 70 students, about a third of whom are ineligible due to age, we have over 20 students who regularly come to listen for God.  When our Musician decided to organize Evensongs, helping us prepare for a pilgrimage in England, I wondered whether many people would come to hear the traditional musical offering.  But when over 100 people, half of whom were visitors, attended, we saw how we are a community who can celebrate all kinds of music.  Or when we decided to totally transform this space for Flip Flop Mass, even the staff were not sure what we were doing.  But the joy and delight on worshippers faces afterwards taught us we had found something unique, meaningful, and fun.  Hickory Neck has been embracing bold responses to God all year long!

Part of our willingness to be bold this past year has been rooted in Hickory Neck’s identity and values.  As our Vestry articulated our values this year, one of those values was curiosity – an embracing of experimentation, playfulness, and joy.  That value, which is not common among churches, I assure you, creates in us an inherent ability to do what John does – to consent to Jesus, to the movement of the Spirit in what might be happening next.  That is why I am confident 2020 holds the promise of many more expressions of boldness.  After a successful year of offering a Godly Play class at the Kensington School here in Toano, the director has asked us to offer a Godly Play class at their Williamsburg location – a location that has around 250 kids as compared to the 70 kids here.  We will need to find about four more teachers to enable such an undertaking, but such boldness could mean sharing the good news not only with our immediate Upper James City County families, but families throughout our region.  As we face the departure of our curate later this month, a full-time clergy position that cannot be financially replaced due to pledging, we could choose fear, resistance, or despondency.  Instead, our Personnel Committee, Vestry, and Staff have been creatively trying to figure out a new staffing structure – a way to think about ministry differently, employing the gifts of the entire community to achieve something different, but equally life-giving that can facilitate the achievement of the strategic priorities our Vestry has articulated.  When our dream of bringing more childcare to our community was realized, a group of parishioners realized that not everyone could afford that childcare.  Instead of feeling frustrated or stymied, a group came together to form a Scholarship Committee to figure out how to make childcare accessible to our neighbors.  That group has boldly discerned the need to create a 501(c)3 nonprofit organization that can raise funds – and not just for children in our community needing care, but eventually, even for seniors needing help with care.  The process may take a while to coalesce, but the Committee is demonstrating to all of us how to live more boldly this year.

The reason John is able to consent comes out of his trust in Christ Jesus.  We know from Matthew’s Gospel that John is not always consistent in his trust.  Chapters later, as he sits in a jail cell, his trust in Jesus waivers.  But here today, at the banks of the River Jordan, John talks to Jesus about his misgivings, John articulates why he believes he knows what is best, and John takes into consideration the wisdom of another way from Jesus.  John chooses the boldness of the unknown path of Christ over the confidence of how things have always been.  John chooses the wisdom of the Spirit over his own long-accumulated wisdom.  John chooses to trust God is doing something new, and consents to going along for the ride.

The same is true for Hickory Neck.  Any of the boldness we are hoping to embrace this year is rooted in who we are:  a community anchored in deep, daily prayer, in meaningful, diverse worship, in varied forms of study and theological reflection, in life-giving, meaningful relationships with one another and the wider community, in the giving of care and support to those who need that care.  All of those activities, those things that shape who Hickory Neck is, create a foundation for us to have a deep enough relationship with Christ that when the Spirit invites us into something new, something seemingly out of our reach, something unlike the way we have done things, we have no problem looking into the eyes of Jesus, and consenting.  Now, being bold is not easy.  To be bold means we acknowledge we are leaving our comfort zones and a sense of security.  But when I look around our community – when I look at each of you and the gifts you bring to Hickory Neck and the ways God is working good through you, the idea of being bold with you isn’t so scary.  In fact, being bold is kind of exciting, invigorating, and fun.  I cannot wait to have more fun with you this coming year, and I am so grateful we have each other live into this new year of ministry.  God has great things in store for us, and I feel privileged to be able to stand with you as we consent to the movement of the Spirit together.  Amen.

Sermon – Isaiah 43.1-7, EP1, YC, January 13, 2019

16 Wednesday Jan 2019

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Today, as we celebrate another year of ministry in Jesus Christ through Hickory Neck, and as we host our Annual Meeting, we hear words of encouragement from Holy Scripture.  The reading from Isaiah says, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.  For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.  …you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you…”   God’s words spoken through the prophet tell God’s people they are cherished and loved, they will be protected, even through the waters and fires of life, and they are called for a purpose.

As I reflect back on this past year, we have seen evidence that we are precious in God’s sight, and honored, and loved.  We see that most readily in the pastoral care and fellowship of Hickory Neck.  Whether we have been visited by a priest or a Eucharistic Visitor, whether we have received a birthday, sympathy, or prayer card, or whether we have had our dreams heard and affirmed, we have felt precious, honored, and loved and Hickory.  We have felt that same sense of love in times of fellowship – whether laughing at coffee hour or brunch, finding spiritual renewal at the Women’s Retreat or a Quiet Day, connecting with longtime friends at summer merged services or our new Rector’s lunches, or whether we have met new friends at joint picnics with the Kensington School – we have felt God’s love through one another.  And as we have baptized many a child this past year, married and renewed the vows of parishioners, and lovingly buried old friends, we have felt that sense of being honored and precious in God’s eyes.  If ever we were uncertain that God loves us, that we are precious and honored, we find that affirmation in the ministries and witness of one another at Hickory Neck.

Life at Hickory Neck also testifies to God’s insistence that we not be afraid – that God is with us as we pass through the waters, through the rivers, or walk through the fires.  We entered 2018 with budget deficit, knowing we had trimmed as much as we could, and praying for generous hearts and frugal hands.  And just this week, our Treasurer tells us that we finished the year in the black!  I am so grateful for the ways in which God inspired your generosity to Hickory Neck, helping us serve Christ in the world!  Talk about walking through a fire (and literal waters, as Pete Devlin bailed out the Chapels too many times to count this year!).  But that was not the only trial this year.  This year we also passed through the waters of being a property that only hosted a church to a property that opened its doors and its hearts to a new school.  We labored through SUP permits, giant trailers and construction, the demolishing of an old playground and the creation of a new beautiful playground, and waiting for a Certificate of Occupancy.  But we emerged out of the waters into a new relationship – one that is bringing mutual blessing and joy, that is blessing our community, and is serving a need beyond our doors.  We have walked through waters, rivers, and fires, and yet God has been with us, inspiring us, encouraging us, and building us up to be stronger witnesses for Christ.

Finally, when God tells the people of Israel they are called by name, and they are God’s, we hear echoes of that same sense of calling at Hickory Neck.  God has called many of us to new ministries this year – from new Task Forces, to covering duties once held by a volunteer sexton, to new chairs of committees and participants in ministries, to a new deacon.  God has also called Hickory Neck out into our community. From hosting the Winter Shelter, to providing backpacks to neighbors in need, to raising funds for local charities, and supporting the work the Discretionary Fund does to help neighbors in financial crisis.  And when one of our new member’s family was devastated by fires in California, Hickory Neck claimed them as their own, helping support their recovery.  As members of Hickory Neck, we are called by named, known by God, and are serving as witnesses of Christ in the world.

Unfortunately, we do not get to close 2018, dust off our hands, and say, “Good work, Hickory Neck!  You’re all done!”  As we look toward 2019, with yet another budget deficit, we realize a few things.  This year holds yet another river we will need to cross – a river that the Lord promises will not overwhelm us.  This year, I, with the help of Personnel and our Vestry, will be reimagining the staffing of Hickory Neck as we face yet another transition.  As Charlie’s tenure as our curate comes to end and we celebrate his time with us, we know that Hickory Neck will need to envision a new way to staff our parish for the future.  I do not know the end result of that discernment, but I do know that God has powerful things in store for us.  As much as mentoring a curate into a new ministry has been a blessing for us, I suspect the other side of this river has blessings for us too.  We have hints of that blessing as we see the generosity of many in our parish, a majority of whose pledges increased, and whose average pledge is higher than many Episcopal parishes.

As we look ahead to 2019, we hear echoes of God’s words through Isaiah, “you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you.”  Upon the completion of our Church Safety Task Force’s work, the Vestry will be making some decision and implementing new practices to ensure each parishioner’s safety while on our campus because each member and visitor’s life is precious to us.  Likewise, our Pastoral Care team will be implementing the new Circle Ministry to help parishioners stay connected through prayer every week.  Meanwhile, the staff and leadership of Hickory Neck has committed itself to honoring one another through increased opportunities for fellowship and pastoral care, for formation of children and adults, and for the tending of our newcomers.

Finally, as we enter into 2019, we do not forget God’s words to the people of Israel, “I have called you by name, you are mine.”  One of the primary reasons we and the Bishop called Deacon Bob to serve Hickory Neck was so he could help each of us assess how God is calling us this year, reminding us to whom we belong, and how we can serve this God who loves us so much.  We answer God’s call later this winter as we host Winter Shelter on our own for the first time since we started co-hosting Winter Shelter weeks.  This year we also commit to Hickory Neck’s calling to be a home the multigenerational care of our neighbors.  We expect our relationship with the Kensington School to deepen, as we offer Godly Play classes to students, increase pastoral care efforts to students, teachers, and families, and as we add opportunities for fellowship and formation.  We will also continue our discernment around elder respite care, determining how to address the growing need in our community and how we can utilize our resources for our neighbors in need.  God has called us to powerful ministries in 2019, and Hickory Neck is poised to respond, “Here I am, Lord.”

When I read this passage from Isaiah in preparation for today, I felt an overwhelming sense of affirmation, encouragement, and emboldening.  When I looked back at 2018 with Hickory Neck and looked forward at 2019 with Hickory Neck, I felt a similarly overwhelming sense of affirmation, encouragement, and emboldening.  God is doing great things for, in, and through us.  God celebrates with us this day, and also throws us back in the saddle as we take on the mantle of being called to seek and serve Christ, and strengthen this community into a community of belonging, believing, and becoming.  I am confident in what God is doing through us, and I encouraged by the witness of each person in this room, and I am emboldened by the activity of the Holy Spirit working in us to witness Christ’s love and light.  “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.  For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.  …you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you…”   Amen.

Sermon – Luke 3.1-6, A2, YC, December 9, 2012

12 Wednesday Dec 2012

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I have been thinking about this sermon for weeks – the sermon to lead us into our Annual Meeting – the sermon to lead us into a time of celebration and inspiration.  But then I remembered that we are in Advent, stuck once again with John’s crazy witness of repentance.  Repentance is not quite the sexy message I was looking for to promote what has been a great year.  Who wants to tarry in the wilderness when we have good news to celebrate?

But the more I have thought about the wilderness this week, the more the wilderness seems to be the perfect place for us today.  The wilderness is a holy place in our scriptures.  The wilderness is the sacred place where our ancestors journeyed toward the Promised Land.  Many a scriptural figure has ended up in the wilderness with only God for company.  For the gospel of Luke, the wilderness is a key place of activity – where testing, prayer, withdrawal, and miracles happen.[i]  Many a spiritual Christian has fled to the wilderness over the centuries – a place where the quiet is deafening, and where one goes to strip away the distractions of life.

The wilderness is where we find John the Baptist today.  There is a stark contrast in where we find John and where the powerful men of the time are.  Luke details the leaders of the day:  Emperor Tiberius, Pontius Pilate in Judea, Herod in Galilee, Philip in Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias in Abilene.  These names are not just in the text to trip up the priest on Sunday.  Luke mentions these rulers and the towns that they rule so that we can understand the significance of where John the Baptist is.  The towns of the rulers are places of wealth and comfort.  Each of those leaders is treated with dignity and respect, lives in lavish homes, and is worshiped like a god.  But the word of God does not come from these posh places.  The word is spoken in the wilderness.  In the Greek, “wilderness” is translated as “solitary, lonely, desolate, and uninhabited.”  Here in the middle of nowhere – a place where people feel utterly alone and desolate is where the word of God is proclaimed.

So how could I possibly be excited about a journey into a stark, barren place on such a celebratory day as this?  Because St. Margaret’s went through its own wilderness journey not so long ago.  As a relationship with a priest was dissolved, tensions rose among parishioners, and many left our family, St. Margaret’s journeyed through what felt like a time of desolate wilderness.  Although I was not part of the St. Margaret’s family at that time, working through the healing process with you this past year has taught me a lot about what that wilderness time was like.  Many of you wondered if we would survive.  Some of you sat in the parking lot before Church, not sure if you could walk through those beautiful red doors one more time.  For many of you, the wounds from that desolate wilderness are tucked away in a box on the back shelf of your hearts, but the box seems to keep slipping off the shelf when you least expect.

The truth is, I am not sure if we are out of the wilderness time.  We still have some work to do here at St. Margaret’s and there are going to be times when we are not happy with each other (I know, that is hard to believe!).  But just because the wilderness is a place of solitude and desolation does not necessarily make the wilderness all bad.  The wilderness is where the people of God encounter God.  Abraham’s journey into the wilderness brought about a blessed covenantal relationship with God – with the gift of descendants as numerous as the stars.  The people of Israel’s journey through the wilderness brought them to the Promised Land.  And even when they were in the wilderness, they felt God with them – helping them find water from rocks, food in the form of manna and birds, and leadership to comfort and guide them.  Even John the Baptist, preaching repentance today from the wilderness, finds that his message in the wilderness is the herald of the Messiah, the one who finally brings about redemption.  The wilderness is not necessarily a bad place.  The wilderness is an intense place – an intense place of encounter with God, but not a bad place.

That is the tricky part about wildernesses.  When we are in the wilderness, we can feel lonely and despondent.  Jesus himself is thrown into the darkness of temptation when he goes into the wilderness for forty days.  But being in the wilderness does not cut us off from God.  Being in the wilderness cuts us off from the padding we use to cushion ourselves from pain; that same padding that can be a barrier between us and God.  When we are in the wilderness, there is no avoiding God.  The wilderness is like an empty locked room with only you and God.  In some ways, I think this is why we are encouraged to go on silent retreats at monasteries.  The few times I have been, the first day is always awkward.  I am such an extrovert, that the first day of silence kills me.  I want to talk, I want to engage others, and I want to keep my busy, active pace.  But when all you have is a cell, the worship space, and perhaps somewhere to walk quietly with your thoughts and prayers, things get clear much more quickly.  That padding is gone immediately and you are left with God to reconnect.

So unfortunately, John the Baptist is going to leave us in the wilderness for just a couple of more weeks of Advent.  But that is good news for us.  We have been through a time of experiencing the desolation of the wilderness.  That time was dark and painful for many of us and will never fully leave our consciousness.  But having come through that dark time, we can stay in the wilderness by choice.  Like Abraham who chose to take his small family into the wilderness for the promise of good things, we too choose to tarry in the wilderness this Advent.  We tarry here because we want to be closer to God.  We choose to journey through the wilderness because we need the guidance from the intimacy that only the wilderness can provide.  We claim the wilderness this Advent, and especially this day of our Annual Meeting because we want to be in a place where we can clearly hear God’s guidance for our future.

This year has already given us a taste of how wonderful the journey with God can be.  Although we have had some adjustments, joy has been the overwhelming experience of this past year.  From joyful liturgies, to the joy of new ministries, to the joy that each new parishioner has brought to our lives, we have much to celebrate.  If we have already seen this much joy this year, imagine what a little more intensive time with God can do for our spiritual journey in the year to come.  The promise is clear from John about what the time in the wilderness will bring:  Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.  So stay with me in the wilderness for a couple more weeks.  We may find that our time here leads to even more blessing and joy in the year to come.  Amen.

[i] Miriam J. Kamell, “Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. C, Vol. 1 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009),47.