St. John’s Episcopal Church
Tallahassee, FL

2 Corinthians 5:16-21

A shared sermon with parishioner Beth Sylvester.

Let me begin today
by reminding you
who you are.

You are a missionary.

Whether you’ve crossed an ocean
or just the pew behind you,
you, dear friends, are missionaries.

Why?

Because you are baptized.

And the mission of the Church—
as our Prayer Book says—
is “to restore all people to unity
with God and each other in Christ.”

That’s it.
That’s the job.

And as Paul reminds us
in 2 Corinthians today,
that mission
is the ministry of reconciliation.

You may not have realized
that you signed up for that at baptism.
But you did.

God has reconciled us through Christ,
and now sends us
to be reconcilers, too.

And how do we do that?
Not with clever arguments.
Not with conquest.
But with love.

For that’s exactly what Jesus did. 
He is the original Missionary 
who crossed the greatest border—
the one between heaven and earth—
to reconcile us to God. 
And he did so 
not with the power of force 
but with the power of love.

That is why I always say 
mission is
the sharing of the love of Christ
across any significant border.

Sometimes that border is the ocean.
Sometimes it’s Monroe Street.
Sometimes it’s just the next pew over.

Wherever there’s a divide,
there’s a mission field.
And God calls us
to go.

Now, most Sundays
I’d dig deeper into the scriptures.
But today,
I want you to hear from someone
who has lived it.

Several weeks ago,
a small team from St. John’s
traveled to Zorrilla, Cuba,
to visit our companion church of San Apóstol—
a relationship we’ve nurtured for many years.

It was part of our call
to the ministry of reconciliation.

And today,
Beth Sylvester
is here to share a glimpse
of what they saw,
what they learned,
and how they were changed.

Beth, thank you for going—
and thank you for sharing.

* * *

This mission
was a truly beautiful,
eye-opening
and heart-opening experience.

I had an image in my mind—
from the movies—
of what Havana might be like:
a place trapped in time,
with beautiful buildings
and cars from another era.

But I had no idea
what life would be like in the countryside,
in the small communities we were going to visit.

I think I was picturing something
pastoral and idyllic.
That is not what I found.

Life is very difficult in Cuba right now.
Havana is crumbling.

Some of the beautiful old buildings
have had the facades restored,
but the vast majority
are in disrepair
or in ruins.

I don’t fully understand their system—
how they handle housing and electricity—
but I know this:
they all work,
and they have very little money.

Our translator, Maykel, for example,
has a Master’s degree in English
and 20 years of experience teaching at the university.
He makes the equivalent of about $20 a month.

They have ration cards
where they can get staples like rice, beans, and cooking oil—
if those things are even available.

I asked Maykel,
“What is it like to live in Cuba?”
And he said:
“We do not LIVE in Cuba.
In fact, we SURVIVE in Cuba.”

That statement
hit me hard.

When we went to the countryside,
to our companion church in Zorrilla,
I understood even more
what Maykel meant.

The living conditions are rough.
Transportation is extremely limited—
mostly hitchhiking
or horse and cart.

We were without power on and off
the whole time we were there—
and almost completely
for the last two days.

They told us
this has been the situation
for the past two years.
The infrastructure is failing.

Recently, our friends there
were without power for 12 days.
It came back on for 3 hours—
and then went out again.

The need is great.
You see it in their homes,
and in the too-thin bodies
of some of the people.

We’ll share more about this
at our upcoming presentation,
and I hope you’ll come.

But I can tell you now:
the clean water systems
we support—through Advent, Christ Church,
and the Living Waters for the World program—
are life-changing.

They serve Zorrilla, Los Arrabos, and Quatras Esquinas.

We all know water is life.
We all need it, every day.

And in these areas,
the only safe water
comes from boiling
or from the church.

This water—
provided freely to anyone—
is not only a source of health and life.
It is a source of community.

It has brought people to the church.
And these churches
are growing and thriving
because of the resources they offer.

The clean water we enable
in our companion churches
is faith in action.

Just like Fr. Lonnie said in his sermon:
We are sharing the love of Christ
across real borders—
not just geographic ones,
but the kind that separate survival from joy,
isolation from belonging.

The over-the-counter medical supplies we bring
are also critical.

You cannot just go buy these things in Cuba.

We walked by the pharmacy in Zorrilla,
and the young woman giving us a tour
explained that it’s only open at limited times.

They post a handwritten sign on the door
listing what medicines they have that week—
and the list is very short.

This week,
we recognized insulin
and one antibiotic on the list.

But they don’t always have what people need.

So yes, the need is great.
But the people—
the people are not defeated.

They are Spirit-filled.

Their love and generosity shine.
They show their love
through acts of service and prayer.
They care for each other
and their community.

Someone told me,
“In Cuba,
if you need something,
and someone else has it or can do it—
they will give it to you.”

The church is the center of that spirit—
a place where the community gathers
and gives of what they have.

When life is that hard,
you turn to God.
And God lifts you up,
encourages you,
helps you through.

The people at our companion churches
have turned to God.

They are kind, generous, and loving.
They don’t have much.
But they give what they can.

In his sermon on Sunday,
Father Juan Carlos said to the people,
“We all have something to give.”

He was speaking to the people of Cuba.
But that message is for us, too.

We all have something to give.

For example:

– Come to our presentation
and hear more about our time in Cuba
and how we support our companion church.

– Not everyone can go on Mission—
but if you can,
I encourage you to consider it.

– If you know someone from Advent
or Christ Church in Monticello,
talk to them about Living Waters for the World.
Tell them how much the people in their companion churches
appreciate what they’re doing.
Encourage them to keep going.

– Maybe you can give financially
or donate supplies from what you have.

– The Episcopal Church has called
for an end to the U.S. embargo on Cuba
because it hurts the people,
not the government.
You can read more on the Church’s website.

– And we can all PRAY.
Pray for Cuba
and for the Cuban people—
because they are surely praying for us.

This isn’t just a good thing to do, my friends—
it’s Gospel work.

It’s what Paul calls
the ministry of reconciliation.

And somehow,
in crossing borders with love,
we discover
that Christ is already there,
drawing us all together.

Thank you for your support.

Amen.