Transcript
We always give thanks to God for all of you and mention you in our prayers. Please be seated.
Have you ever been to a rainforest or really any super dense forest? It’s truly amazing what you can witness and all the secret or hidden things that happen in a forest. And by forest, I don’t mean that copse of trees hanging out in the back corner of your yard. I mean, El Yunque National Forest in Puerto Rico or Ubud, a rainforest in Bali or if tropical isn’t quite your thing, Shenandoah National Park in the Blue Ridge Parkway. A true dense, solid forest as you approach. It’s often easy to think of that cliché about seeing the forest and not the trees or however it goes. But as you get closer and you actually step into the forest. Wow. A truly natural forest is so filled with life you can feel the air change.
The smell changes too. One of the weird things I like about forests is how much the light changes because it gets dark. And also not really because I feel like trees when they’re that thick and that abundant and thriving that much, they almost put off their own kind of light, their own kind of glow. And then think of all the things that grow and live and thrive underneath the trees. In a rainforest in Panama, I watched a long trail of ants carrying pieces of leaves across the path and up a tree, and I mean a long trail of ants. In coastal Maine, where I was last month, there were mushrooms growing under all the trees, soaking up the dampness from the ocean nearby. In Costa Rica, the ferns beneath the tropical trees grow so big it’s very easy to imagine dinosaurs tromping through the forest, pausing to munch on a snack.
And none of these things exist without the forest. All of the animals that hide in the trees or nest under the leaves, all of the other plants, flowers, and greenery that thrive in the shade of a big tree and off the nutrients that those trees put off. Even us humans, who often in our modern world of grocery stores and Walgreens, forget that so much of what we consume comes from forests, basic comforts like chocolate and coffee, and also a number of more exotic ingredients, things that help treat cancer and malaria, and even the simple fact that willow bark is the source or inspiration for aspirin.
And like I said, these things don’t just happen. These plants and flowers and important ingredients don’t just poof, ta-da!
Instead, they need to be part of a forest. They need other trees, other life, rich soil with nutrients that inspire growth, and the kind of pure air that we experience when we dare enter the deepest part of a forest. And perhaps that’s what absolutely fascinates me about forests, rain and otherwise. A forest isn’t just a bunch of trees who grow more leaves and deeper roots.
A forest is also all the other things. The fruits and the flowers, the ants and the monkeys. Even the mountain lions and bears. The shade? Yes. And the sun. And the soil. Interestingly, I think that’s true about church as well. Come on, you knew I was going to go there eventually. If our church is like a forest, then we can start to compare all the pieces and parts of Saint John’s Church, Elizabeth City Parish, to a big natural forest.
I mean, think about it. We have our roots: 416 years of roots, to be exact. In living memory, that includes the preschool classroom that now happens to be where my desk sits in the parish house, and the children’s choir, who’s captured in a photo in our museum, includes people raising grandchildren in this church today. It includes the silver that we’re using today for communion from 1621, and all of the hands who have reached out to hold it, to sip from it, to receive Jesus from it.
Our roots include all the 48 rectors who have been called to lead this congregation, and the hundreds of thousands of church members and community members who came to this church to pray, to cry, to celebrate. Those are the deep foundations of a forest that continues to grow, continues to increase its roots as the years and generations go on.
And then we are the leaves. Like we talked about last week, we are the ones who do the work now. It is our wisdom, our experience and our knowledge and our hopes and dreams and imaginings that create the beautiful canopy of leaves offering dappled light. And that glow that I mentioned is often noticed. And then there are the fruits and flowers and all the other things that grow and thrive inside a forest.
The people who grew up here and have gone on to change the world, or even just change a little part of their community in little ways because of their faith formed here. After all, today, how many of us were shaped? How many of our values and ethics were shaped by the time we spent here in a pew, in a vestry meeting, in a Bible study, serving a meal to the hungry, helping guests who need a place to be seen for exactly who they are.
A beloved child of God. And how many of those with whom we interact have felt that love, have felt the honor of being seen, have felt the warmth of a congregation who truly understands what it means when we say all are welcome.
Did you know so far in 2026, Saint John’s Church, through its various ministries including Outreach and charitable trust, has given almost $160,000 to the poor, the needy, the hungry and the unhoused. And that’s just dollars. I cannot begin to count the amount of hours we have given. And did you know? On average, I spend about 20% of my time caring for those who need caring, being present for those who need presence, sitting with those who have questions and no answers.
In other words, if a work week is 40 hours, I spend one entire solid day of work doing what we call pastoral care. And that’s just my personal time. I can only begin to imagine how many hours each of you spend thinking about and praying for your friends and fellow church members. I want to keep going. I know you are getting the idea. How many people’s lives are changed because of our music program.
From our music academy and music camp to our choir and summer concerts. How many people’s lives are changed because our history inspires them to make their own history? How many people’s lives are changed because our cemetery holds the past and present and future? These things, all of these and more are the fruits of our ministry. They are the flowers and the ferns and the mushrooms glowing, growing close to the trunk of our tree that is Saint John’s Church, Elizabeth City Parish.
They are the animals who have made homes near or in our branches. They are the people who seek shelter from the sun, or the rain or the wind, under our canopy, under our hard work, under our love. We are like the Thessalonians to whom Paul writes, we are chosen to be for God, to spread God’s love through our faith and our love and our steadfast hope.
We are examples to all believers and otherwise, of what it means to know that God gives us everything we have and everything we are, and we give it back to God by giving it to everyone around us. The love of being seen, welcomed, cared for, supported, cheered for, prayed over, and encouraged. If Saint John’s Church, Elizabeth City Parish is a forest or even just a single tree, think of all the fruit that we produce as we spread the love of God to everyone we meet in the past, in the present, and in the future.
We are Saint John’s Church, and it is the gifts God has given to us that we give back to the church and the world through our own acts of faith, giving hope and love. Everything we do, have done, do now and will do in the future creates change even if we don’t see it, even if we don’t feel it.
We have been changed as have all the people who have interacted with us in some way or another. And that is why we continue to do what we do. That is why we want and need to continue doing what we do: the hard work, the time, the ideas, the ministries and yes, the money. We cannot do what we do, create change in the world around us without investing in this community.
If we belong to God, then we are called to give ourselves, all we have and all we are, to God so that God can create more fruit, more love and hope and faith in the world around us. Amen. Amen.