We are a small Episcopal Church on the banks of the Rappahannock in Port Royal, Virginia. We acknowledge that we gather on the traditional land of the first people of Port Royal, the Nandtaughtacund, and we respect and honor with gratitude the land itself, the legacy of the ancestors, and the life of the Rappahannock Tribe. Our mission statement is to do God’s Will in all that we do.

Sermon, Season of Creation 1, Sept. 4, 2022

Sermon, Proper 18, Year C Season of Creation I 2022

We are no strangers to counting the cost of things. 

In these days of high food prices, I see people going through the grocery store, calculators in hand, counting the cost of items on the shelves before placing those things in their grocery carts. 

A person who is buying a car counts the cost of driving the  car under consideration over time, considering gas mileage, the inevitable upkeep and repair charges, the cost of new tires, and insurance costs. 

Many people count the costs of having children  before deciding to have children. 

Buying or building or renting a house—what will the cost be? 

I don’t know about you, but I get put off by what Jesus has to say in today’s gospel, when he tells the crowds who are traveling with him that if they expect to be his disciples, they must count the cost.

Jesus says that the costs of discipleship include our possessions, our families, and even life itself. 

These costs don’t make sense to rational, sensible people who work hard for what they have, love their families, and treasure their life here on this earth and, in addition, as followers of Jesus use all of what they have for good purposes.

But for dreamers, who often seem to lack sense and to be irrational, these demands of Jesus make perfect sense, 

because dreamers can see beyond what is to what might be. 

Dreamers are willing to pay any cost, no matter how high,  to realize the dream.   

Jesus himself was a dreamer.  He dreamed of bringing God’s kingdom of love to earth.  Jesus lived as if his dream were already a reality. 

Instead of working as a carpenter, gathering the possessions he would need to live a respectable life as a craftsman, instead of marrying and settling down, having children, being a respected, faithful, dependable man in his community—all of which would have been good, and would have made a positive difference in his immediate world, Jesus left all those dreams behind for a far bigger and better dream, the best dream– the  kingdom of God’s love spreading over the earth, restoring universal joy and justice and peace to all of creation. 

Ultimately, this dream cost Jesus his physical life on this earth, a price that even Jesus hesitated to pay as we know from his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before his death. 

Jesus knew that for those who followed him, this dream of God’s reign of love coming to earth must become their dream as well, and that they too, must be willing to pay any cost to live into the dream.   

So Jesus taught his disciples how to pray the prayer of dreamers, the Lord’s Prayer. 

Only dreamers, or at least people who are willing to try to dream, would pray the very first petition in this prayer, and I’m going to put it in the familiar language that we have up on the wall behind me,

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.” 

The New Zealand Prayer Book’s translation of “thy kingdom come”  fleshes out the dream of God’s reign on earth a little more.   

“The way of your justice be followed by the peoples of the world!
Your heavenly will be done by all created beings!  Your commonwealth of peace and freedom sustain our hope and come on earth.”

Jesus calls dreamers, or at least people who are willing to dream, to follow him, regardless of the cost. 

He tells them to carry the cross, and to follow, knowing the cost. 

That cross that Jesus asks the disciples to carry is the cross of obedience, obedience to God, for following God’s commandments also requires that we be dreamers, to be able to see beyond the dreams of immediate gratification to the bigger dream of God’s reign as a dawning reality in the process of being fully realized.

No wonder, then, that Moses, way back in Deuteronomy, asks the Israelites who are waiting to cross over the Jordan into the Promised Land to be dreamers as well. 

He asks them to choose life instead of death,  to dream of a life defined by loving God, obeying God and holding fast to God.  Obedience to God would lead to a dream realized –life in a land flowing with milk and honey, a place where the Israelites could at last put down their roots and grow into the people that God hoped that they would become—because you see, God is a dreamer too, to believe in people at all! 

Today’s letter to Philemon from the apostle Paul is about a dream that Paul has for a man named Onesimus.  Paul has met Onesimus in prison and Paul has a dream for the future of Onesimus, greater than just Onesimus getting out of prison and going back to his former life with Philemon, which is a pretty good dream. Paul dreams that Onesimus will go back to Philemon and that rather than continue on as slave and master, Onesimus and Philemon will be brothers as they would be in the reign of God come to earth.

So Paul writes to ask Philemon to be a dreamer too, to be obedient to who he is as a follower of Jesus, to forgive Onesimus and to take him back not as a slave, but as a brother, and in doing so, to bring into reality for Onesimus the dream of God’s reign of love and justice come to earth, and in doing so, to make that witness of love and justice visible to the world. 

How do we disciples of Jesus make God’s love and justice visible and active in the world today?  How is God calling us, here and now, to be obedient to God, regardless of the cost?

Here at St Peter’s, we have been dreaming the dreams of God’s reign of love and justice coming to this earth in our work on racial reconciliation.  The Sacred Ground scholarship which we established this year is the result of a dream of wanting to address the historic inequities in education for people of color in our nation dating back to slavery and continuing in decades of racist government policies that denied people of color the opportunities that white people had.  Our hope is that the people of color who receive the Sacred Ground scholarship in the years ahead will find justice, peace and freedom in having been able to pursue their educational goals a little more easily than they would have been able to otherwise.    

And here at St Peter’s, we also dream the dream of God’s reign of love and justice for all of creation, which is why we observe the Season of Creation each year, along with the wider church—our Catholic and Greek Orthodox brothers and sisters, and more and more, people throughout Christendom, taking the time to celebrate and consider what it means to care for creation intentionally as part of our obedient discipleship as followers of Jesus. 

As all of creation is suffering more and more greatly from the effects of climate change, this Season of Creation reminds us, as dreamers, to dream again the dream of God’s earth sustaining  the web of life and security for all living beings that God planned at the beginning of creation. 

Our temptation as rational, sensible people is to count the cost and to decide that we cannot wholeheartedly care for the earth as disciples because the cost is just too high—too inconvenient and too expensive.  Maybe the small, feel good stuff, but that’s enough.

For too long, we have settled for the small dreams of our own easy lives at the expense of dreaming God’s dream of ecological justice for the earth.  Our obedience gets compromised by putting our own wellbeing and ease ahead of obedience to God, who appointed human beings as the earth’s caretakers.

When we come to our choices regarding how we care for the earth,  we have literally reached the point  of choosing between life and prosperity or death and adversity as Moses said so long ago.  God sets before us life and death, blessings and curses in our relationships with creation. 

What we do, or choose not to do, for creation will literally mean life or death for our children and our children’s children. Consider plastic, which is such a ubiquitous part of our lives that we don’t think twice about buying and using it. Seemingly small decisions like choosing plastic containers over biodegradable containers because the plastic containers are cheaper and more convenient or choosing the convenience of a plastic water bottle over a refillable water bottle are ultimately death dealing decisions for the environment.

But wait, I recycle, you may tell yourself—I tell myself that all the time.    

But here’s the awful fact that we forget at our own peril—that plastic NEVER decomposes. 

Instead, over time plastic breaks into plastic fragments.  The plastic fragments eventually become micro fragments, and then the micro fragments become nanofragments, so small that they can barely be seen with the most advanced microscopes.  These nanofragments already swim throughout our water supply.  Even in the most remote regions on earth, the rain itself contains these nanofragments of plastic.  We are drinking in these nanofragments and because they are carried on the wind, breathing them in as well. 

In today’s world,  choosing material other than plastic for things we use  when possible is a choice for life rather than death.

So today, I challenge us all to dream again the dream of God’s earth sustaining the web of life and security for all living beings that God planned at the beginning of creation.   Let’s carry the cross of obedience and follow Jesus in the ways that we decide to care for creation, regardless of the cost. 

And I challenge us all to dream the dream that Jesus himself dreamed and lived and died for, the greatest dream we could ever dream, the dream that Jesus dreams that we, his disciples will dream—God’s kingdom come, God’s will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven.    

Sermon, July 24, 2022 Pentecost 7

Sermon, Proper 12, Year C, 2022

Luke 11:1-13

“Ask and it shall be given you; search and you will find; knock and the door will be opened for you.  For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.” 

These two familiar sentences make up one of the great promises of Jesus to us, that when we ask we will receive, when we seek, we will find, and when we knock, the door will open. 

But how many times in your life have you found that these promises don’t hold water, that what you asked for you didn’t receive, that what you sought you didn’t find, and that when you knocked, the door remained not only shut, but locked up tight?

That your prayers weren’t answered. 

So did God let you down?  Sometimes life feels that way—that God didn’t hear and  didn’t answer and that our prayers are in vain. 

But as Oswald Chambers says in his classic book of devotions, My Utmost for his Highest, “God answers prayer in the best way, not sometimes, but every time.” 

And somewhere deep down inside we believe that God does answer even our seemingly unanswered prayers, because we are here today, and I bet that you, like me, keep praying even when prayer seems hopeless. 

So let’s take a few minutes to knock on the door of today’s gospel and ask some questions of these words, and search for what God wants us to find today in these words of Jesus. 

The disciples ask Jesus to teach them to pray and so Jesus gives them the words that we know as the Lord’s prayer. 

This line, “Give us each day our daily bread,”  is an obvious and sensible request.    Every day, we ask God to give us what we need for the day, the necessities of life.  In Biblical times, bread was essential to life.  Even when there was nothing else, people had bread and eating only bread sustained them.    

In the Old Testament, then the Israelites were wandering around in the wilderness and complained that they had nothing to eat, God provided bread for them in the form of manna that they found fresh on the ground each morning, and they gathered what they needed for the day. 

And then there’s the story of the prophet Elijah, suffering like everyone else in a famine, and God sends Elijah to the brook called Cherith.  Elijah goes there,  and God sends the ravens to bring him crumbs of bread each day.   

But I think that Jesus is telling us to pray for something more than bread when he asks us to pray for daily bread. 

In John’s gospel, Jesus says that he is the bread of life, one of the great I AM sayings. 

So we can think of this petition, “God, give us this day our daily bread” as asking for Jesus to be with us today, to be all that we need, to sustain us as bread sustains a hungry person. 

When Jesus is with me, sustaining me, the other needs I have get put into the proper perspective.  When I receive Jesus every day, I can see that my needs have already been met, often in unexpected and unusual ways, just as the raven fed Elijah. 

Give us this day our daily bread.  Give us Jesus, the bread of life.  Asking for this daily bread, Jesus, every day, keeps Jesus with us each day. 

I think the person who wrote the words of the old spiritual that Larry sang got the meaning of “Give us this day our daily bread.” Before asking for anything else, the writer asked for Jesus.   

“In the morning when I rise, in the morning when I rise, in the morning when I rise, give me Jesus.” 

After Jesus teaches the disciples the Lord’s prayer, he tells the them a  story about someone going to a friend at midnight and asking for bread, and that due to the person’s persistence the person finally gets up and gives the person the bread he needs. 

Sometimes, no matter how hard we pray, it’s hard to feel that Jesus is there with us, so Jesus reminds us to be persistent in praying for daily bread—to be persistent in praying to know the deeper presence of Jesus with us  in our lives. 

Prayer is not about magically making things happen if you pray hard enough, or pray the right way, but prayer is about helping us to learn ever more deeply what is already true, that is, as Oswald Chambers says, that we pray “to get perfect understanding of God.” 

Prayer isn’t some mystical act to make  Jesus appear, but we pray to realize ever more and more deeply what is already true, that Jesus is already with us, our daily bread. 

Another way to think of this is to remember the teaching of Jesus in John’s gospel.  “Abide in me, as I abide in you.”  That abiding in Jesus grows our understanding of God over time.  And when we abide in Jesus, we have all that we need—our daily bread. 

The more we pray, the more we realize that God is with us, providing for us and sustaining us.  So Jesus reminds us to be persistent in prayer. 

Now we come to the “ask and it will be given you” part of the gospel. 

When we talked about this passage in Bible study this past week, we wondered, what is “it?” “It” could be the specific thing I’m praying for—for instance, healing John Whitfield or Roger Key or any number of the people we pray for each day. But now, I’m thinking that “it” is something more. 

What if “it” is Jesus himself? 

“Ask, and Jesus will be given you.”  We already know that having Jesus in our lives is the foundation for everything else we need in our lives. 

Imagine what would happen if we ask for Jesus every time we pray, asking for Jesus first, before any of the other things that we need to ask God for—and those prayers are important as well.  Asking for Jesus first, before the rest of what we need, is the idea.   

Ask, and Jesus will come to you.  And then everything else we think we need will work out because we have come to know that Jesus is with us. 

Search, and you will find.   What if we searched for Jesus before anything else?  Jesus is the deepest and most wonderful mystery that we could ever search, and the more deeply we enter into the mystery of Jesus the more we will find the truth of our own lives, and the gracious presence of God with us.

Remember, the Bible is full of references for searching for God.  Not too long ago we had this passage from Psalm 63, written by David, “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you.”  I love that—David knows that God is with him, but he is still seeking out God.  He says that his soul thirsts for God, and that his flesh faints for God.  Would that we would all be so diligent in our searching and finding God with us in our lives. 

And then “Knock, and the door will be opened to you.” 

In John’s gospel, in another of Jesus’ I AM sayings, Jesus says that he himself is the door or the gate through which the sheep enter into his fold, where they will be safe. 

In our lifetimes, we knock on so many doors.  Some open and some don’t.  But when we knock on his door, Jesus will always open and let us in, and then we  become content with both the open and shut doors that we’ve knocked on, for the most important door, the door into the fold of God, has opened and we are abiding in Jesus.   

At the end of today’s reading, Jesus says “How much more will the heavenly Father will give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him.” 

That’s Jesus’ big, big hint for the disciples to understand the deeper meaning of what Jesus has been getting at in his teaching about prayer.  Oswald Chambers says that “the Holy Spirit is the one who makes real in you all that Jesus did for you.”  The Holy Spirit is the one who reminds us that we need to ask for Jesus as starving people would ask for bread. 

So here’s what I’d like to remember from this sermon, and what I hope you’ll remember too, when we pray. 

Give us this day our daily bread—give us Jesus. 

When we ask for Jesus, we will receive Jesus.

When we search for Jesus, we will find Jesus. 

And when we knock, we will see that Jesus is the open door through which Jesus invites us to enter,  so that we can abide in him and he can abide in us.

And then, the first thing we pray for in the Lord’s prayer will be granted in our lives.  

The Kingdom of God will become more and more a reality on this earth in our lives together as it is in heaven, for Jesus is with us, living in us,  and all of the rest will be well.    

Sermon, July 9, 2023 – Pentecost 6, Proper 9

Sermon, Proper 9, Year A 2023

Zechariah 9:9-12; Psalm 145:8-15; Romans 7:15-25a; Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

Before the jail in Caroline County closed several years ago, several of us led a Bible study there once a month.   As part of our training, we took a tour of the jail and got to see how the prisoners lived.  We were allowed to go into a part of the jail that wasn’t being used, so that we could see how the prisoners lived.    

Each cell clustered around the large common area holds four people.  The bunks are metal.  There is a clearly visible toilet in each cell, offering no privacy.  The prisoners spend a great deal of time in their cells.  At certain times of the day, they can come out into the common room, unless there has been some disturbance and they are locked down.  Getting outside means going into an area with a high fence topped with barbed wire, where there is room to walk, but not room for anything else. 

And for prisoners who cause trouble, the solitary cell to which they are confined is separated from everyone else, completely silent and windowless, completely isolated from the outside world.

Periodically, throughout our lives, we find that we are maybe not in an actual jail cell, but in some circumstance in which feel that we are being held captive. 

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Sermon, Pentecost 3, Proper 6, June 18, 2023

Exodus 19:2-8a; Psalm 110; Romans 5:1-8; Matthew 9:35-10:8

First, I’d like to thank Ben for preaching the sermon I had planned to share with you last week before I unexpectedly had to be absent. 

The theme of that sermon was “Press on to know the Lord.” 

As God’s people, we are to press on throughout our lives to grow in our knowledge and love of God,

for that knowledge and love of God brings us peace

and God’s peace brings us into a deeper knowledge and deeper love of God, a never ending circular exchange,

an eternal turning toward love that is essential to our spiritual growth. 

As we receive God’s peace, as we come to know God’s love more and more personally, we also find that our hearts fill with joy. 

And that is the theme of today’s sermon!  Rejoice! 

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Sermon, Proper 5, Pentecost 2, June 11, 2023

Sermon, Proper 5, Year A 2023
Hosea 5:15-6:6, Romans 4:13-25, Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

Please look at your bulletin cover.  The device in the photograph shows a person in a wheelchair, and underneath the image is this statement.

“Press to operate door.” 

I usually don’t use these devices, even when they are available, because I believe that I am self-sufficient enough to open the door myself. 

But think about it.  On some level, every one of us here today is that person who stands in front of a door and can’t get it open.  The door isn’t stuck, we are!  All of us need God’s help in some way or another.  Maybe your belief system has you stuck, or you are devastated by grief and can’t get up, or you are physically sick and can’t stand.  All of these ways of being stuck keep us from pushing open the door into the glorious freedom of life in God.

Give it some thought! 

What keeps you stuck?    

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Sermon, Pentecost Year A May 28, 2023

Come, Holy Spirit! 

From the beginning, the breath of the Holy Spirit pours out, bringing life.   The Holy Spirit gives life to smallest microscopic organisms that can be seen only with the help of a microscope, and yet are essential to the world’s food chain.  And the Holy Spirit works in and through the sweeping grandeur of this earth’s magnificent and ever changing landscapes, covered in life, that the earth sustains.

All of this life exists and thrives through the power of the Holy Spirit, uncontrollable, wild, and free.  As Jesus told Nicodemus, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” 

We Christians have been given the knowledge that the Holy Spirit is at work in our lives.  I guarantee you that even  when we don’t acknowledge or recognize the Spirit, the Holy Spirit is always at work in those born of the Spirit, and that’s us. 

So today, I’d like to talk about how the Holy Spirit works in our lives so that we can more easily recognize the Spirit’s presence in each of us and among us. 

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Sermon, Easter 6, May 14, 2023 – Praying for God to fill our imaginations

Have you ever wondered about what is going to happen to church as we know it?  What is going to happen to St Peter’s after we are gone? 

Like many churches, we now have fewer people here at St Peter’s.   Even the huge denomination of Southern Baptists has declined by over three million members since 2006, losing almost half a million members in just this past year. 

The signs of the decline of what we can broadly term Christendom are everywhere. 

We ask ourselves how many people we can lose and keep going.    Maybe we ought to spend our money differently.    Do we need to change our worship services?  We are puzzled, clueless and troubled when we think about these things.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t want St Peter’s, after a long slow decline, to someday be deconsecrated so that it can be sold and turned into yet another Port Royal antique shop! 

The disciples had some of the same questions we do.  They wondered what would happen to them when Jesus was gone.  They were worried about how they’d continue without him.   

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Sermon, 4th Sunday of Easter, April 30, 2023 – “Abundant Life”

John 10:1-10

Today’s gospel about abundant life offers so many things to think about—Jesus as the Good Shepherd; we sheep who follow the voice of our shepherd; the strangers, thieves and bandits who try to call us away from Jesus; and then, finding that Jesus himself is the gate through which we pass to enter into God’s everlasting security and abundant life.    

Jesus used these images because shepherds and the sheep pens that dotted the landscape were a familiar sight to those who were listening to him.    According to a meditation on The Our Daily Bread website,  the sheep pens were probably made of stone, or possibly wood, about three feet high.  Toward evening, the shepherd would lead the sheep into the sheep pen to protect them from predators.  Some of these enclosures were large enough for several flocks, so a watchman stood guard and allowed only certain shepherds and sheep to enter through the one gate into the sheep pen.  In smaller pens that held only one flock, the shepherd himself would serve as the gate.  Once the sheep were inside the pen, the shepherd would lie down at the entrance to the pen to serve as protection to the sheep through the night, and to keep out anyone or anything who might try to harm the flock. 

For us Christians, Jesus is gate through which we find God. Jesus is also the shepherd, the one who leads and guides us once we hear his voice, the one who leads us in and out and helps us to find the pasture in which we have all we need. 

This gospel reminds us, though, that often we hear the voices of the “thieves and bandits” of this world instead of the voice of Jesus, and so we choose not to enter the sheep pen, even when Jesus calls us, because other things seem more inviting, or more necessary.     

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Sermon, Good Friday, April 7, 2023

Can you imagine being Mary, the mother of Jesus, that day? 

Mary stood there with her sister, with Mary the wife of Clopas, with Mary Magdalene and with the beloved disciple on that dusty, horrid hill, Golgotha, the Place of the Skull.  The most sordid of deaths, Roman crucifixions, took place there.  Criminals hung on crosses and gasped out the last hours of their lives, and finally, agonizingly, suffocated and died.

Now, Mary is watching her own son hang on the cross.  This is the man that she had carried in her body for nine months, and given birth to,  loved and cared for as a child.  She loved him as he grew up into the man in whom she had complete confidence.  She is watching him die an ignominious death on a Roman cross. 

What must she have been feeling? 

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Sermon, 3rd Sunday in Lent, March 12, 2023

Today’s passages invite us to consider for ourselves who Jesus is and what Jesus offers to each of us, if only we take the time to be in conversation with him and to spend time with him.  Jesus welcomes us into a closer and more loving relationship with God through both his living and his dying.       

In today’s passage from Romans, Paul says that “But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.  Much more surely then, now that we have been justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath of God.”

Is God really waiting to deal wrathfully with us, miserable sinners that we are? 

In his commentary on Romans, William Barclay, a Scottish theologian, explains “the wrath of God” in this way.

Think about the law. 

We all know that none of us can keep the law perfectly.  That doesn’t stop us from trying to keep the law, but sooner or later, we mess up.  When we mess up, we suffer the consequences.  And if we think of God only in terms of the law, then we can assume that God is going to be angry with us when we break God’s laws.  Barclay points out that if we think of ourselves in terms of the law, then we are all headed for God’s condemnation. 

Paul wants  the Romans to know that trying to be in a right relationship with God through our own efforts will never work, because we will never be perfect. 

Thanks be to God, then, that we have another way to be in right relationship with God, and that way is when we enter by faith into a relationship with God.  We learn God is not waiting to condemn us and wrathfully punish us.  Instead, God loves us and is waiting for us to draw more ever more closely into God’s presence. 

Jesus is the one who leads us into a deeper relationship with God.  As we come to know Jesus more and more, then we find ourselves growing closer to God.  Jesus would do anything for us. He doesn’t wait for us to be good, or to have our act together—in fact, while we were sinners, Christ died for us.    

When Jesus died, he showed us the way to God by showing us the way of God—God is always breaking love wide open so that it can be shared more fully.  When Jesus was broken open in his death on the cross, God’s love flowed from the cross out into the world like a stream of living water that gushes up to eternal life.

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One more look at Nicodemus – from a sermon in 2011

“Nic was a big guy in many ways.  He was tall, and even though he had put on a little weight in middle age, he still had a certain youthfulness and confidence that other men envied.  Nic was a big guy at work too, having successfully risen to the top of his profession, known as a leader, not only in the local company, but also at the corporate level.  People listened when Nic spoke.  They paid attention, sought his guidance.

Black Escalde“Nic drove a large black Escalade. He loved the way the Escalade roared to life when he turned the key in the ignition, the way he sat up high above the rest of the traffic, barely having to press the accelerator to gun past anyone in his way and to get to his destination in record time.The Escalade suited Nic, summed up who he was, really.Big, bold, in charge.”

Read more of the 2011 sermon