St. John’s Episcopal Church
Tallahassee, FL
1 Corinthians 12:1-11
Philippians 2:1-11
This sermon was part of The Year of the Bible—a yearlong initiative in which all sermons, classes, and formation for all ages followed a parish-wide journey through the entire Bible. With the bishop’s permission, we used a custom lectionary: two readings drawn from that week’s section of Scripture, plus a psalm and the regularly appointed gospel of the day.
I need to begin today
with some important St. John’s family news.
Last Sunday,
you may have noticed that Mother Leslie was not feeling well.
On Monday morning, she went to her doctor,
who sent her to the hospital,
where she was admitted and has been
for the last seven days.
It’s been a week full of tests—
and those of you who’ve walked this road before
know how that goes.
What they’ve found
is that our beloved Mother Leslie
has some form of gynecologic cancer.
They’re still narrowing it down,
but that’s what we know so far.
Here is the good news:
Her doctors are optimistic,
and so is she.
There is a treatment plan in place.
She has already begun a nine-week course of chemotherapy,
which will be followed by surgery.
Her doctors say she can work while receiving chemo—
and knowing Mtr. Leslie, she’ll want to.
But knowing me,
you also know I’ll be nudging her not to overdo it.
We will adjust her schedule
to best support her healing.
I went by the hospital yesterday morning to see her.
She was sassy, in good spirits,
cutting up and cracking jokes—
and I think, honestly,
relieved to finally know what’s going on
and to have an optimistic plan.
As many of you know,
those first few days of a diagnosis like this
can be disorienting.
They require reorienting,
recalibrating.
So for now, please—
no visitors or calls.
Cards? Absolutely.
Send them directly to her home,
or drop them at the church office—
we’ll make sure she gets them.
Mother Leslie loves you,
and she knows you love her.
We will keep you updated
on needs and news as they arise.
And while people sometimes dismiss “thoughts and prayers,”
I will tell you—prayers matter.
They buoy us.
They carry us.
They open us to hope.
So please, keep her in your prayers,
along with all the other members of St. John’s
who have desired the prayers of this parish.
Because when we make these journeys,
we make them together.
That is what it means to be
the Church.
* * *
Which segues perfectly
into our readings today.
It is hard to believe,
but our year-long journey through the Bible
is almost at its end.
Just a couple more weeks to go,
and today we arrive at the letters of Paul.
If you look at the Bible in your hands,
you’ll see:
about 75% is the Old Testament.
(And we have felt every one of those 75 percentage points this year!)
Then come the Gospels and Acts—about 15%.
And the rest? The final sliver?
That’s the letters—
written by Paul and a few others
to the early churches.
They have names like Romans, Galatians, Philippians,
1 and 2 Corinthians.
They’re called that because those were the cities
where the churches were located,
and these are Paul’s letters back to them
in response to whatever challenges they were facing.
Now, I know it is hard to believe,
but sometimes churches have issues that arise.
(Not here, of course. But other churches.)
Modern folks often love to hate on Paul—
some of his writing strikes us in 2024
as misogynistic or unenlightened.
But here’s what I want you to know,
especially now that we’ve made it this far
through the entire arc of Scripture:
For whatever flaws Paul had as a product of his time,
Paul was way ahead of his time.
Paul was about grace.
Paul was about unity.
Paul was about love.
And who couldn’t use more of that in this day and age?
In 1 Corinthians today,
Paul says we are all different—
different gifts, different personalities,
different proclivities—
but all united by one Spirit
who pulls us together.
Grab your bulletin for a moment—
look at the second paragraph
of the First Corinthians reading.
He says,
“Now there are varieties of gifts,
but the same Spirit;
and there are varieties of services,
but the same Lord;
and there are varieties of activities,
but it is the same God
who activates all of them in everyone.
To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit
for the common good.”
Paul uses the word “same”
again and again and again—
for a reason.
Each of us brings something unique:
our talents,
our baggage,
our histories,
our personalities.
And yet the same Spirit of God
is poured out on each of us,
and what that Spirit does
is take what is unique in you
and makes it gift-worthy
to the body and the world.
There’s a saint, Cyril of Jerusalem,
who once compared the Spirit not to fire,
but to rain.
Rain falls everywhere—same rain.
But when the earth soaks it up,
different things bloom.
Camellias, azaleas, magnolias, hydrangeas—
each absorbs the same water,
but produces something beautiful,
something specific.
Same Spirit.
Different blooms.
That’s you.
That’s us.
That’s the Church.
We soak up that Spirit,
not just to survive—
but to thrive—
together.
Paul was saying all of this
long before the pandemic gave us the slogan
“We’re all in this together.”
But y’all—
the Church has always been in this together.
If the same God is in you that is in me,
who are we not to
work together,
be together,
and live together in love?
* * *
And then over in Philippians,
Paul says it even more plainly:
“Be of the same mind,
having the same love,
being in full accord and of one mind.
Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit,
but in humility regard others as better than yourselves.”
And then he paints the picture of Christ—
Christ who had all the power of the cosmos,
but gave it all up for the sake of others . . .
for the sake of us . . .
for the sake of love.
We do that here.
We try.
We get it wrong sometimes—of course we do.
We’re human.
But love lives here.
And we know the cost of division.
So we keep striving to be one—
working together in humility and grace—
because God is doing more through our collective body
than any one of us could ever do alone.
You see it when we worship.
You see it when we care for each other.
You see it when the love of this place
spills out into the streets of Tallahassee—
to Grace Mission,
to the Kearney Center,
to anywhere the Gospel is lived out.
This is a place where love lives.
Which leads me to the air conditioner. 😊
Yes, the air conditioner.
We’ve selected our contractor—Rippey Construction—
and work on the new chiller will begin in September.
That’s a little later than hoped,
but the delay actually reduces cost—
less demand for subcontractors.
This chiller is a beast.
It cools half a city block.
If you’ve never seen it,
Charlie Redding will give you the tour.
The campaign goal is $1.5 million.
And as of this past week—just a few weeks in—
we have raised $700,000.
That is astounding.
If you haven’t pledged—please pledge.
If you’ve pledged but not given—please do.
And if you’ve already given and feel moved to give again—
we are grateful.
If borrowing becomes necessary, we’ll do it—
but the less we borrow,
the more freely we can serve.
Let’s meet this moment together.
Talk to me, to Ramsay,
to Mary Bird Sims,
or to Charlie Redding
if you have questions.
* * *
While it may seem silly
to talk about air conditioning
in a sermon about being the Church,
the truth is—it all goes together.
The Greek word for Church—ekklesia—
does not mean building.
It means the people.
The body.
You and me.
The air conditioner is not the Church.
The building is not the Church.
They are tools.
Wonderful, helpful, necessary tools
that empower us to gather,
to worship,
to serve,
to be the body of Christ.
Whether we’re talking about this sacred campus,
or ministry in the streets of Tallahassee,
or our outreach in Cuba or Quito, Ecuador,
or what it means to care
for those who cannot be here in person—
all of it goes together.
This is what it means to be the Church.
So, as an old pro once said:
Let the same mind be in you
that was in Christ Jesus.
Because with this same God—
we really are all in it together.
Amen.