Words of gratitude from Gary Jones

Grateful beyond words

We’ve been writing our own headlines By Gary D. Jones

Gary in South Africa with children of the Isibindi Project

During his final service as our rector, the Rev. Gary Jones made the following remarks. Many have asked to read them.

My dear friends, Heidi Schmidt and Monica Vega, are cherished spiritual counselors who have been like good shepherds to me through all sorts of trials and transitions, over many years. Recently, Heidi related a story that the Baptist clergyman Andy Stanley told in a time of personal frustration, and I found it helpful as I prepare for retirement.

“Sometimes I just want it all to stop,” Andy Stanley said. “The pandemic and mask debates, the looting, and daily violence and brutality. The division and ugliness in everyday life. I can’t watch or read the news anymore. I lose my way. I become convinced that this seeming ‘new normal’ is now our real life. “Then,” Stanley continues, “I met an 87-year-old who talked about living through polio, diphtheria, Vietnam protests, and all sorts of hardships, and yet he is still enchanted with life.

“The elderly man seemed surprised when I said that 2020 must have been especially challenging for him.

“‘No,’ he said slowly, looking me straight in the eyes. “I learned a long time ago not to see the world through the printed headlines. I see the world through the people who surround me. I see the world with the realization that actually, we love big. We love really big.

“‘So,’ the 87-year-old went on, ‘I just choose to write my own headlines: Husband loves wife today….Family drops everything to come to Grandma’s bedside….”

Old man makes new friend today.

Stanley concludes his story, “The old man’s words collided with my worries. I have been holding on so tightly to my upset and worry, but his words have the effect of prying open my hands and fingers, allowing my worries to float away. And I am left with a renewed spirit. I sense now that I have a new way of being in this beleaguered world. I am going to write my own headlines.”

This is how I feel about our time together at St. Stephen’s these past 16 years. So many births and deaths. We thought our hearts would burst for joy as we welcomed each tiny newborn. And there were times when we worried our hearts would be crushed and we would not be able to go on, as precious people whom we have loved moved on to the larger life.

Hundreds of baptisms, confirmations, marriages, ordinations, healings, spiritual rebirths, reconciliations, renewals of marriage vows, feeding the hungry, housing the homeless, caring for the sick, visiting prisoners, welcoming the stranger as if she were Christ, embracing the marginalized and strengthening the vulnerable throughout Richmond and beyond.

We have been writing our own headlines here at St. Stephen’s. We’ve noted the printed headlines, and we have responded to those by carefully, reverently, and enthusiastically writing our own.

Life is short, and we do not have much time to gladden one another’s hearts, so our message and way of life are urgent, and we deliver our message over and over again, day after day, week after week:

“Come here, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and we will refresh you.”

If you are feeling guilty or ashamed, or if you feel as if you have fallen short in some way (and who doesn’t from time to time?); if you feel as if something has been missing, and you are hungry for that ineffable More in your life, notice the two main pieces of furniture here: a large bowl of water, and a big table with bread and wine. That’s why we’re here: to offer everyone who wants it a bath and a meal. A new life, a fresh start, a “born-again” life. What we have been is past, what we shall be, through Christ, still awaits us. And in the spirit of St. Paul, we say, “Forgetting what lies behind, we are straining forward to the new life of unconditional love and forgiveness that we believe God is offering every human being every day.”

I think we have come to realize now the truth of what the spiritual teacher Ram Daas said so memorably, “We are all just walking each other home.” And although the printed headlines say one thing about this journey we are traveling together, headlines about church decline, political division, social discord, and disturbing contentiousness, we at St. Stephen’s have been busy writing our own headlines. We have been busy healing and “loving big,” as the 87-year-old put it.

And so, I close with this prayer:

O Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof. Yet, 16 years ago, you invited me to come here under yours. It has been one of the greatest honors and privileges of my life. And now, inspired by this sacred community, I enter my next chapter determined not to live my life by the printed headlines, but to use what I have learned among your faithful people here and seek to write my own.

There is a prayer in our marriage service that describes what I have experienced in this counter-cultural community of St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church. With the married couple standing before us all, we pray, “‘Make their life together a sign of Christ’s love to this sinful and broken world, that unity may overcome estrangement, forgiveness heal guilt, and joy conquer despair.” That prayer speaks of my experience in this community: these are people intent on being a sign of Christ’s love to a broken world, the world you love. And these have been just a few of the headlines your people have written while I have been among them: “Unity overcomes estrangement,” “Forgiveness heals guilt,” and “Joy conquers despair.” The printed headlines speak of a world in need of communities like this one who will write new ones.

And now as you send new leadership here, may this extraordinary church go from strength to strength in the life of service in your kingdom. I am not worthy to have you come under my roof, O Lord. But 16 years ago, you invited me to come here under yours. It has made all the difference in my life; it has been one of the greatest honors and privileges of my life; and to you and to your beloved people of St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, I will always be grateful beyond words. Amen. ✤