When I was asked to speak during this stewardship season — and specifically asked to talk about what St. John's means to me — I immediately knew what I wanted to share. If you'll grant me a few moments, I'd like to recite my favorite passage from the Book of Common Prayer. We don't hear it often here at St. John's, but it is the lens through which I see this place. It's from Rite II, Prayer C:
God of all power, Ruler of the Universe...at your command all things came to be: the vast expanse of interstellar space, galaxies, suns, the planets in their courses, and this fragile earth, our island home...From the primal elements you brought forth the human race, and blessed us with memory, reason, and skill. You made us rulers of creation. But we turned against you, and betrayed your trust; and we turned against one another...Again and again you called us to return...Open our eyes to see your hand at work in the world about us. Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal.
Prayer C speaks directly to the analytical, logical, empirical side of me. It situates us within the heavenly scope of all creation — from galaxies and suns to this planet, here. It reminds us of our humble beginnings in primal elements and our privileged endowments of memory, reason, and skill. These are listed as facts of our existence — clear, almost scientific, even if poetically expressed. Facts that ring true to my ears and to my mind.
But where, then, is emotion — the messy business of the human heart? As with so many places in scripture, I think it's tucked in the quiet part. So let me say that quiet part out loud:
When memory, reason, and skill get us into trouble, come here not just for solace but also for strength.
When memory, reason, and skill fail to protect creation, come here not just for pardon but also for renewal.
Solace and pardon feed a mind humbled by its limits.
Strength and renewal nourish a heart restored by love.
When we return to God, He wants us to return in love — for Him, for ourselves, for one another.
When I think of St. John's, I think of a wellspring of love, compassion, and acceptance. I think of a community with overflowing hearts — ready to share and to give, to strengthen others and to renew others. The times we live in can make it incredibly hard for anyone with memory, reason, and skill to find the power to love. But at St. John's, we have that power in abundance. Every time I have gathered here in communion, I have felt it.
So what does St. John's mean to me?
This is where I come when I need to refuel.
This is where I come when that analytical, logical, empirical side of me isn't enough.
St. John's is where my heart comes when it needs sustenance.
St. John's is where my heart leads me when I have more to give.
St. John's is where my heart is.
On this Commitment Sunday, I return here to pledge my support for St. John's. God blessed us with memory, reason, and skill. We give back with time, talent, and treasure. All of these gifts are born from love, offered with love, and yield more love. Let us step into God's future together.
Amen.
REFERENCES
Episcopal Church. The Book of Common Prayer and Administration of the Sacraments and Other Rites and Ceremonies of the Church : Together with the Psalter or Psalms of David According to the Use of the Episcopal Church. [Place of publication not identified] :Seabury Press, 1979.
Words: 2025 Keith E. Freeman, Madison Heights, MI, USA. All Rights Reserved.