Farewell Sermon ~ St John’s Church 09-21-25 ~ the Rev’d Ron Keel
This, my friends … is a day of transitions! Can we make it a fun day? I want to make it a fun day. A proper day? Certainly. Appropriate? Always. Reverent? Yes! But … will you help me make it a fun day? OK … that’s a deal.
Let’s take Psalm 118, verse 24, as our theme:
“This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” Some of my golfing friends like to “misquote that verse,” saying: “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and play ‘a round’ in it.” BUT … we won’t do that! Today, we’ll stay here, rejoicing in worship … this farewell, this moment God has given us.
Now … how about a little church humor? Can’t go wrong with that, can we? There were four churches and a synagogue in a small town … a Presbyterian, a Baptist, a Methodist, an Episcopal church … and a Jewish synagogue. All had the same problem: Squirrels.
The Presbyterians decided the squirrels were predestined to be there, so best not to interfere with God’s will. At the Baptist church, the squirrels got into the baptistery. The deacons put in a water slide, hoping they would drown. Instead, the squirrels loved it … and more showed up the next week. The Methodists decided not to harm any of God’s creatures, so they humanely trapped their squirrels and released them … near the Baptist church. Two weeks later, they were back when the Baptists took down the water slide. The Episcopalians came up with a very clever strategy. They baptized the squirrels and confirmed them as new members. Now, they only show up at Christmas and Easter. Not much was heard from the Jewish synagogue … but it’s rumored that they circumcised one squirrel… and haven’t seen another since.
All right! This is the time in our beloved Prayer Book liturgy that calls for a homily or sermon … so, perhaps, we should get on with that.
What I have today may not be a sermon, in the usual sense … but, rather, a collection of thoughts, a reflection of the heart, perhaps. And, so … I’m going to invoke Interim Rector privilege and not speak on one of the appointed lessons. Shhh .., don’t tell the Bishop! (Oh … it’s OK, if you do … what’s she going to do? … fire me?). Instead, today … I turn to Paul’s words, offered to his most beloved congregation, the church in Philippi:
“I thank my God upon every remembrance of you, always praying with joy
because of your sharing in the Gospel from the first day until now. And this is my
prayer: that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full
insight, enabling you to learn by experience the things that really matter.”
Now … I am no Apostle Paul. God knows I have not suffered as did he. But in every other way, I can identify with his words as he writes to his beloved congregation. Some of you have asked, “Is this really your last Sunday, your last sermon?” That sounds rather fatal, doesn’t it? I don’t think of it that way. I expect I’ll preach again … maybe … even here, someday. But YES … this is a transition for you and for me. Life, after all, is a series of transitions. John Henry Newman once said, “To live is
to change … and to be perfect is to have changed often.” I think of the cartoon that shows Adam and Eve driven from the Garden by an angel with a flaming sword. As the gates close behind them, Adam says to Eve, “Eve, we are living in a time of transition.” Transitions can be unsettling, but they are, also, times of remembrance. Paul begins: “I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.”
And … that is what Vicki and I have been doing … remembering. Yes, there are regrets. Mostly the things undone … the times I could have been more helpful; more available; more present. For an older, slowing-down priest, your patience and forgiveness these past months have been a gift.
But more than regrets, there is gratitude. Incredible gratitude! We had no thought of ministry in Greene County, Missouri, just three years ago. We didn’t know anyone here. And yet, somehow, through our leaders and through God’s providence, here we are. Looking back, what once seemed accidental … now, looks like grace. And what memories we carry! So many conversations in the Parish Hall. So many friendships formed, laughter shared, tears shed, faith deepened. As St.
Thomas More said: “Fond memory brings the light of other days around me.” Like Paul, I thank God upon every remembrance of you. And I think of Jesus, who at a table of simple bread and wine said: “Do this in remembrance of me.” Remember that I am with you … in your families; in your friendships; in your service; in your joys; even in your sorrows. And, then … he gave thanks.
Remembrance leads to gratitude. Gratitude leads to joy. So, again, hear Paul: “I thank my God upon every remembrance of you … and my prayer is that your love may overflow … enabling you to discern the things that really matter.” If I am grateful for anything, it is the way you have shared in this ministry. Together we have served one another; cared for the vulnerable; and reached out
with compassion. And because of what God has done here, I am confident in your future. And, what is that future? It is the future of this unique, welcoming, inclusive family of faith. And in a few moments, at the table, you will taste that future. The bread and wine will remind you of the past that brought you here … and point you to a world where all are fed; all are welcomed; all are loved. Here, in this meal, we make church. And, maybe … children understand that best.
Let me end with a story. A woman was teaching Vacation Bible School. Midweek, a new student arrived … a little boy, missing one arm. She worried the other children might embarrass him, but the day went smoothly. At closing, she asked them to do the familiar rhyme: “Here is the church, here is the steeple, open the doors …” Then … she froze, realizing what she had just asked. She had done what she feared the children might do … excluded him. But the little girl sitting beside him reached out, joined her left hand with his right, and said, “Davey, let’s make church together.” My friends, that is what we have done here … made church together. So … I leave you with Paul’s prayer, which is mine for you: “That your love may overflow more and more, with knowledge and insight of every kind … so that you may learn by experience the things that really matter.” Welcome, dear hearts … to the feast which is our future.
