You must want to go to Harkers Island to get there. There are no major highways running to the island. Instead, you exit US 70 near its eastern terminus, drive south through marsh and over a bridge to reach the island. To go further, you must take a boat or be an excellent swimmer. Once you’re on Harkers Island, you’re closer by boat than car to Beaufort or Morehead City.
Cape Lookout Lighthouse from Harkers Island (roughly five miles away)
People come to Harkers Island in order to get to Cape Lookout lighthouse or the old lifesaving station near the Cape Lookout shoals. Others come to walk the beach along Shackleford Banks where wild horses roam. In the fall of the year, most people come to fish for blues or trout in sight of the lighthouse or to hunt ducks and geese in the marsh along the Atlantic flyway. And if you come in December and hang around till dark, you’re treated to an incredible light show as the island decorates itself for Christmas.
Decoy ornaments
The people on Harkers Island are creative. Known for carving duck decoys, they also know how to put on a good Christmas light festival. Homes and utility poles on the island often sport anchors created by Andy Scott and Richard Gillikin. During the holidays, blue lights accent these anchors. Lights decorate old boats abandoned on empty lots. Lights decorate docks and homes. And outside the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center, flapping geese pull Santa’s sleigh. Behind the sleigh, porpoises jump. And you can’t miss the huge Christmas tree built out of stacked crab pots.
During December, dozens of crab pot trees are showcased inside the Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center. Local families, businesses, churches, schools, and community organizations sponsor and decorate the trees. Trees recall those who died from cancer and old ghost towns like Portsmouth, now a part of the National Seashore. One tree celebrates the dark skies around Cape Lookout. On a night with clear skies, the stars seem more brilliant without much light pollution. One tree celebrated the life of Alma, who baked hundreds of wedding cakes for the community over the year. Other trees celebrate those who worked on the waters around Harkers Island for a living, families who built boats, and the Jim Dandy’s family who stores is one of the oldest businesses in Carteret County.
The museum, located on the east end of the island, has more than Christmas trees to offer. The main floor contains an outstanding collection of duck decoys along with history of hunting along the Core Sound. The second-floor exhibits highlight the folks who made up the small “down east” communities such as Bettie, Cedar Island, Davis, Lola, Sealevel, Smyrna, Stacy, and Williston. And for those who are healthy, there is an observation deck two stories higher, providing views of the marsh around Harkers Island.
My father started to come up to Lookout to camp and fish back in the late1980s. At the time I was tramping around the country and either living in Nevada or Pittsburgh. But every few years I tried to get home during this time to enjoy a few days of fishing. As everyone aged, they stopped camping and instead rented a house on Harkers Island, which became a base for fishing.
This year, my time on the island began with a gale (my sister and I did some shopping in Morehead City and visited Fort Macon on Emerald Isle. It’s been at least 40 years since I was at Fort Macon. On Tuesday, the rains came and we along with my brother checked out Beaufort. Sadly, we found the Maritime museum closed but we could watch them work on such boats across the street and toured galleries and stories along the waterfront.
On Wednesday, we were up earl, running through Barden’s Inlet for a day of fishing around the jetty on the southside of Cape Lookout. We caught a few trout that were not of legal size and had to be thrown back, along with some blues. We talked a lot about my dad during the four days I was on the island. It was good to be back in familiar waters.
Jeff Garrison Mayberry & Bluemont Churches Matthew 3:1-12 December 7, 2025
At the beginning of worship:
Two preachers on their day off, fished at a river by a road. Before sitting on the bank, where they watched their corks with hope a fish would be soon tugging, they posted a sign by the road. It read, “The end is near! Turn yourself around before it’s too late.”
A few minutes later a car flew by. Seeing the sign and the preachers, the driver yelled out, “Keep your religion to yourselves, you fanatics.” He hit the gas, sending rocks flying and dust swirling as he rounded the curve.
A moment later, braking tires crunched over the gravel. Then came a big splash.
One of the preachers looked at the other and said, “Maybe we should have just written, ‘Bridge Out’?”
The lectionary, on the second and third Sundays of Advent, focus on John the Baptist. At a time, we’re getting excited about Christmas joy, we hear the rantings of a crazy prophet calling us to repentance.
Before reading the scripture:
Why do we only find the story of Jesus’ birth in two of the gospels, while the story of John the Baptist preparing the way for the Messiah shows up in all four of the gospels? And all four gospels link back to Isaiah, that voice howling out in the wilderness.[1]Scripture demands we contend with the story of John the Baptist, even more so than the birth stories of our Savior. What are we being told here? How does the fire and brimstone preaching of John the Baptist prepare us for the loving message of Jesus?
If we want to get to the good news, we must face the bad. Before we can accept a Savior, we must comprehend our own issues. We’re sinners. So, let’s listen to what John has to say to us.
Read Matthew 3:1-12
I wonder about John’s message. It’s so harsh, maybe he should have toned down his words, like the two fishing pastors I told you about at the beginning of worship. Repeatedly, John talks of fire, and not the warming flames of a campfire, but the ominous fire like those recently experienced in Hong Kong where numerous high rises burned.[2] John’s dangerous fire consumes and purifies.
“You brood of vipers,” John calls the religious leaders of the day. That doesn’t sound very loving, does it? Jesus would never say that, would he? Actually, Jesus’ does. Twice in Matthew’s gospel.[3] What does this phrase, which Matthew liked so much that he recalled it three times, mean? And how does this relate to a loving God?
Law and gospel must go together. In scripture, law came at Sinai during the Exodus and the gospel came roughly1400 years later with the exemplary life, atoning death and glorious resurrection of Jesus. John is the last in a series of prophets who show our failure of abiding by the law as he calls us to clean up our acts. God is doing something new and marvelous. We need to be ready! All this talk about fire and calling people snakes catches their attention. It also catches our attention. We’re forced to examine our own failings so that we might repent and follow Jesus.
Law and gospel, go together. To understand the story of scripture, we can’t just push off the “law” parts of the Bible and only focus on the gospel. The gospel makes no sense without the law. The gospel is about how God saves us from our failures, our sin. John provides those listening to his preaching with a choice. They can confess their sins and begin the process of repentance. Repentance means to turn around or to start in a new direction. They had to leave sin behind as they joyfully accept what new God activity within their midst.
So, why does John call the religious teachers and leaders of the day a brood of vipers? That’s a harsh term. It conjures up nightmares, a den full of snakes, a place for Indiana Jones but not the rest of us. In the desert, you must be careful trying to find shade under a rock overhang or in a grotto or cave. Snakes tend to gather in such places to avoid the heat of the day. You might not want to mess with them. By using snakes as an illustration, John implies their words are poisonous.
Consider this: both the leaders of the day and John took seriously the sins of the people. But the difference is that the leaders of the day taught that people must justify themselves before God through an elaborate system of sacrifices, whereas John twists the concern of sin around to where people confess their sins, so that they might be washed of them as symbolized in baptism.[4]
All this comes back to God doing something new. With John the Baptist, God paves the way for his Son to come on the scene and to teach people a new way to live and to be human. To prepare for something new, people must admit their own sinfulness and to realize they long for something better. Of course, if we don’t think we need to be better, there’s a warning here. Judgment for transgressing the law hangs over our heads. If we ignore our sinfulness, we die to the law? Or, we accept and confess our sinfulness and embrace the grace that Jesus’ offers? Those are our choices.
Advent is the time for us to prepare for the loving tenderness shown by Jesus. If God redeems this world, if God promises a new heaven and a new earth, we should want to be ready. But to receive God’s gift, we must leave the past behind. We must be willing to examine deep within our souls and to offer up all that’s not godly so that we might be both cleansed of our sin and have the room to accept Christ into our hearts. We must be willing to allow ourselves to be transformed into something new and better. For Advent is a time not only to remember that Christ came, but that he will come again. We must be ready.
Your assignment for this week (and every week) is to examine yourself, your words, your thoughts, your actions. What have you done that’s not been Christ-like? Have you harbored bitterness or showed unkindness or said things which twisted the truth or belittled another? We all do such things. But we need to bring our guilt to God. That’s what John encourages. Get rid of the darkness by bringing it to the light.
We must not just prepare ourselves; we should prepare the church, which, in the final event of history, becomes the bride of Christ.[5]That means the church must confront all we’ve done that’s not holy, and there’s been a lot. From the crusades to the inquisition and witch-hunts, from the support of slavery and conquest to our tendency to huddle into crowds of similar people and turn our backs on the world for which Christ came and gave his life. The earthly church has not always been holy.
We need to confess this! John’s call to the religious establishment of the day still holds. Are we willing to confess our shortcomings and to be open to what God is doing in the world? That means we must give up control, for this enterprise known as the church isn’t about us. It’s about God. It’s about us bringing glory to God as we serve as the hands and the feet of our Lord in the world.
Is there joy in this passage? Yes, but we must get beyond the call to prepare, which John focuses on, and realize God’s activities which occur in the background. We trust in a God of resurrection. Even if the world destroys itself, God won’t let that be the final word. God wants to remake us. John’s role is to prepare us. Our role is to respond to John’s call to repentance so we might be open to what God is doing in our lives and in our fellowship. Confession and repentance may not be in favor in today’s secular world, but in the church, it’s where we begin. All of us need to take a deep look at ourselves and then turn to God and fall on our knees… Amen.
[1] Isaiah 40:3-5. Frederick Dale Bruner, The Christbook, Matthew 1-12 (Grand Rapids: Eerdman, 2004), 88.
(Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2023), 231 pages including a subject and scripture index.
Cary provides a thorough overlook of the Nicene Creed, breaking it up into three articles (Father, Son, and Spirit). He then provides a short chapter on each phrase within the Creed. He also brings in the history behind the creed, the debate with Arianism during the 4th Century (was Jesus God or had he been created by God). At the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD, that was the main issue and is why the second article within the creed (God the Son) is the longest. In 325, the creed abruptly ended, “I believe in the Holy Spirit.” Later councils (especially Constantinople in 381) expanded the third article.
I found his discussion of the filoque clause in the third article very helpful. The West (Roman Catholic and Protestants) say the Spirit descends from the Father and the Son. In the East, they only say the Spirit descends from the Father. One can debate it both ways, but I was surprised to learn one of the main issue with the East not accepting the clause was that it decided at the Council of Toledo in the 5th Century. This was a regional council and didn’t involve the whole church. The clause came from the teachings of Augustine which found a receptive ear in Spain.
In September, I read a short book by Kevin DeYoung on the Nicene Creed in preparation for preaching a series of sermons on the Creed. DeYoung’s study was too brief and not nearly as helpful as Cary’s work. While titled “An Introduction,” Cary goes into much more detail than DeYoung and if you are interested in the Creed, I highly recommend his book.
Erin Wilson, Blue: Poems
(Richmond, VA: Circling Rivers, 2022), 114 pages, black and white photos included.
Erin Wilson used to blog, posting stark black-and-white photos with quotes and poetry. I picked up this book of poetry when it was published and then lost it. I’m glad it’s found. These poems center around the challenges of motherhood and raising a son who appears to love fried eggs yet struggles with depression. The stark words capture her struggles as well as providing glimpses of grace. She expresses her frustration with the situation such as when her former husband took her son shooting. The winters of Canada, where she lives, often provide a backdrop for her poems. And as one comes to the end of this collection, she’s writing on the cusp of the pandemic, expressing what many felt as we wondered about our future.
Are you kidding me, we got through those tough years, and now there’s going to be a pandemic? b
(from the poem, “Blue, Redux”)
As with her blog, mixed among the poems are black-and-white photographs. If you’re into modern poetry, I encourage you to check out this book.
But I knew nothing about Stalin. This was brought to my attention recently in Rebecca Solnit’s book, Orwell’s Roses, which I read back in the summer. Solnit saw Stalin as Orwell’s muse, providing the background for his greatest works (Animal Farm and 1984). While Stalin was the type of man Orwell feared, both enjoyed roses and gardens. Stalin also attempted to grow lemons, which didn’t grow well in Moscow’s winters. Stalin’s love of gardens stands in sharp contrast to his evil and brutality.
Simon Sebag Montefiore, Stalin: The Court of the Red Tsar
(New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2007), pages including Source Notes, Selected Bibliography, and Index. Audible, 27 hours and 50 minutes.
Montefiore begins with the evening of Nadya’s death in 1932. Nadya was Stalin’s second wife, (his first wife died, Kato, had died of natural causes 1907). There had been a party at the Kremlin that evening. Between Stalin’s flirting and picking on Nadya for not drinking, she left the party upset and returned to their apartment. Later, she was found by the housekeeper, dead from a gunshot. The gun, a pistol which had been a gift of her brother, was at her side. While it is assumed she died of suicide (and her death was reported as from an infection), some think she was murdered.
Nadya’s death occurred as Stalin was cementing his dictatorial control of the Soviet Union. Over the next few years, he became an absolute dictator. The last group with a chance to curtail his power was the military, which he handled by executing the top military leadership in the purges of the latter half of the 1930s. According to Montefiore, after Nadya’s death he no longer trusted the wives of those around him and during the purges had some wives killed while allowing their loyal husbands to live.
Stalin could be arbitrary as to who lived and who died. A mark on a sheet of paper was all it took. But Stalin never took part in the killings, allowing others to carry out the execution and then later having the executors killed, creating a culture of fear and mistrust.
Stalin was a late-night person. He often threw late dinner parties which involved drinking and then movies in the early morning hours. Then he wouldn’t come back into the office until mid-day, often to repeat the same cycle.
I found it interesting the Soviet leadership knew Germany’s plans to invade several years before the war began in June 1941. Oddly, as late as January 1941, long after the Nazis had blitzkrieg across Western Europe, those in the Kremlin were debating the merits of tanks over artillery pulled by horses.
Russia hoped Germany wouldn’t invade until 1943, giving them time to build a more modern army. Stalin felt he could trust Hitler even when his own intelligence knew the German plans. When Germany launched the invasion, at first Stalin froze and was almost immobile, seemingly overwhelmed and not sure what to do. Then he took command. He significantly reduced his alcohol consumption during the war. As Germany advanced, he stayed in Moscow even when others suggested he leave. This action encouraged his troops and helped stop the German advance. Early in the war, one of his sons was captured early in the war. After Stalingrad, when Russia captured a German Field Marshall, there was an offer to trade his son for the Field Marshall, but Stalin refused suggesting there were so many other families who had captured soldiers. Stalin had no respect for those who surrendered and felt honored when he learned of his son’s suicide by running into a German electric fence.
Stalin also had an interesting relationship with both Churchill and Roosevelt, preferring the later to the former even though his late-night lifestyle was probably closer aligned to Churchill. As a master of understanding humans and knowing how to create conflict between those around him, Stalin hoped to create a rift between the leaders of the United States and Great Britain.
Toward the end of the war, as the horrified reports of Germany’s treatment of the Jews became better known, there was some thought in the Kremlin offering the Crimea as a Jewish homeland. Russia was also supportive of Israel and became the first nation to offer the full legal recognition. But it upset Stalin as Israel became closer to the United States. After the war, Stalin’s policies became more anti-sematic. While Jews suffered during the purges of the late 1930 along with everyone else, Stalin’s policies shifted to more systemic persecution of the Jews after the war.
Once Stalin’s armies conquered Berlin, Stalin resumed heavy drinking and all-night parties. But as he aged, he spent more time away from governing, even reconnecting with friends from his youth. But he also became lonelier. Having killed or had so many people killed, including those who had once been close to him, people were afraid of becoming too close to him.
Through the book, Montefiore refers to Stalin unique background. Unlike most of the leaders of the Russian Revolution, Stalin came from a working-class background. And he was not Russian, but Georgian. I found this book very helpful for learning more about Stalin, a man who caused more suffering and pain in the 20thCentury except perhaps Hitler. At times, Montefiore humanizes Stalin. While he was a brutal man, he could also be kind to old friends and children. And he loved gardens.
While not its intention, this book provides insight into Russia today. While there was an attempt to wash Stalin out-of-history, his harsh legacy remains. We should understand our enemies. Stalin himself invested time in studying history and understanding the leadership of his enemies. Montefiore also provides the reader with many mini-biographies of those around Stalin, which was helpful. Montefiore mentions Stalin’s policies which lead to the widespread starvation in Ukraine in the early 30s (see Applebaum’s Red Famine, but throughout this time period, he shows that Ukraine’s desire for independence caused problems for the Soviet state. I would only recommend this book for those deeply interested in Russian history.
Simon Sebag Montefiore, Young Stalin
Version 1.0.0
(New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2007), 460 pages including Source Notes, Selected Bibliography, and Index.
After reading the first book, I turned to Montefiore’s book on Stalin’s young life which was published 3 years after his first book. I still have a gap to read, from 1917 to 1932.
Stalin’s mother wanted him to be educated and to become a priest. His father thought education a waste of time. He wanted his son to follow him into the cobbler business. The mother won out and his father became an alcoholic. And while Stalin attended to school and later seminary, he also was involved in Georgian gangs and street fighting, which played a role in his rise to the head of the Bolshevik party.
Stalin excelled at school. But as he began to become a Marxist, he became more of a rebel and was often punished for reading prohibited literature. Several of his fellow seminary students also became Marxists and would follow Stalin’s rise within the Bolshevik party. Early on, Stalin became a chief source of finance for the party, raising money through bank robberies and possibility even piracy. In much, it is hard to know how much he was involved as he had others doing the actual deeds. He also spent time in prison and in Siberia, but only his last exile to a northern village was extreme. Yet, there Stalin began to thrive, enjoying hunting and fishing and continuing to be involved in revolutionary activity.
While in exile, he and other exiled prisoners were sent West to serve in the army against Germany during the First World War. Russian armies were losing and they needed men (kind of like today as Russia emptied its prisons to send men to fight in Ukraine). Stalin ended up not being chosen for the army due to an injury to an arm. As he learned of Russia’s potential collapse, he headed back west for the revolution.
Montefiore notes many inconsistencies in Stalin’s story such as other possibilities as to Stalin’s father. Stalin even claimed on occasion that his father was a priest and there was at least one addition candidate for his faither, but the cobbler seems most likely.
I had never considered Stalin to be an intellectual. While he dropped out of school, he never lost his love for learning and continued to learn, using his knowledge as he began to siege power in Russia. Unlike other biographers, Montefiore emphasizes that Stalin rise to power came early, before the Revolution of 1917.
I found it odd that according to Montefiore, Stalin disliked Trosky from the first time they met. Yet the two of them were chosen for key positions in the government by Lenin, who like Stalin pitted leaders against each other.
One of the difficulties with this book was keeping all the names Stalin used straight. For much of this part of his life, Stalin worked underground. Helpfully, the back of the book listed all the aliases used by Stalin, which was not his real name. While Montefiore emphasizes Stalin’s interest in Marxism, it seems he was more interested in power and using it for his own benefit.
I’m currently on Harkers Island on a family fishing trip. This was a photo of Cape Lookout Lighthouse last night.
Jeff Garrison Mayberry and Bluemont Churches November 30, 2025 Matthew 24:36-44
A crisis looms. The days grow shorter. Time is of the essence. There’s only four more weeks till Christmas. Sometime on Christmas Eve, if you haven’t gotten all your presents, the stores lock their doors—which for some stores is the only time the doors will be locked all year—and it will be too late. You’ll be left empty handed.
A crisis looms. Sadly, for many people, Advent is about avoiding the crunch by shopping early. Of course, there are those of us who don’t shop early. We may be like Garrison Keillor’s family: “Sanctified Brethren” who didn’t shop early because they felt Christ’s return was imminent. It wouldn’t look right to have a bunch of presents around as if we weren’t expecting him to come so soon.
Others of us don’t shop early for a myriad of reasons, but mainly procrastination. We get to spend Advent worrying about how to procure this year’s hot gifts for loved ones.
Advent reminds us to be ready, but not for gifts. As Christmas focuses on Jesus’ first coming, we prepare ourselves for his return, whether in person or at the end of our lives.
Before reading the scripture:
For the next few months, I plan to preach from the Revised Common Lectionary. The gospel reading for today, the first Sunday of Advent, reminds us to be ready for Jesus’ coming. Four times in these verses from Matthew 24, we’re told that either the Son of Man or the Lord is coming. This passage warns us. Be prepared. But, this passage also reminds us of the futility of predicting his return. Instead, we’re to live with hope that while things may be rough, as Jesus outlined earlier in this chapter, it won’t last forever.[1]
Read Matthew 24:36-44
I love to be outside during the predawn hours of morning. All nature, at least all nature that’s not locked up in a house, anticipates dawn. In warmer months, birds sing while it’s still dark. If any of your neighbors have chickens, roosters crow. Deer and other animals make a last trip to their watering hole. Even in winter, when the air is the coldest in the predawn, you sense nature anticipating the dawning of a new day.
This is the end of the good fishing season along the coast of North Carolina. From early October through mid- December, fishing is at its best. Growing up there along the coast, we did a lot of camping on barrier islands during the fall. We’d fish late in the evening and then get up before sunrise. Crawling out of our sleeping bags, someone would light the lantern and stove. Soon, coffee perked as we pulled on clothes and waders. After quickly downing coffee and devouring a Little Debby’s oatmeal cookie or two, we gathered our rods and walked across the dunes to the edge of the surf.
At first, the darkness required you to bait your hooks with a flashlight. Unable even to see your line, you casted blindly into the surf, set your line, and waited for a strike. Generally, it’d start slow. We watched the eastern sky grow brighter. One by one the stars disappeared. Sirius was the last to go, followed shortly by the planets Jupiter and Venus, if they happened to be in the morning sky. Slowly the eastern horizon became lighter, while we shivered. But we kept fishing. We knew the best time to catch a mess of fish was in those moments between night and day which Francis Scott Key labeled the “dawn’s early light.” We had to remain diligent. On mornings when bluefish or trout were running, your line would suddenly squeal, often occurring in the minutes right before the sun’s rays raced across the ocean.
For some reason, the action slowed down as soon as the sun was fully up. Then it’d be all over and time to leisurely head back to camp for more coffee and to roast a fresh bluefish over the coals for breakfast.
The Apostle Paul said in his letter to Romans: “Salvation is nearer to us now than when we first became believers. The night is far-gone. Day is near. Let us lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.”[2] We need to be ready. When fishing, if you weren’t ready, you’d miss the chance to catch the big one. The same is true with Christ’s return. We don’t want to miss the opportunity to be reunited with our Lord.
There are two things Jesus makes abundantly clear in this text. No one knows where he will return. When he does returns, many people will be so immersed in their own lives they’ll not be ready.
Jesus says his return will be like the days of Noah. People eat and drink and marry and so forth. In other words, they won’t pay attention to what’s happening around them until it’s too late. We might imagine all kinds of bad and evil things people were doing in Noah’s day. But that may not be the case. It sounds as if they just lived their lives. These things are not necessarily bad, unless it kept them from paying attention to God.
Jesus doesn’t say the people in Noah’s day were any worse than they were during the first century or even today. Jesus isn’t referring to evil deeds here. The Bible doesn’t say we can’t or shouldn’t do these things. We must eat if we want to live. Scripture condemns gluttony but not eating. Drinking isn’t necessarily drunkenness, which is condemned. Marriage certainly isn’t adultery or lust, which is condemned.
In this verse, Jesus parallels eating and drinking, marriage and giving in marriage in a way like how we might say fishing and hunting, or dining and dancing. He’s not saying they’re wrong. The exception is when people became so preoccupied with performing these tasks they’re not aware of what’s going on around them. They’re preoccupied with themselves! They are concerned for their own needs, their own lives and the lives of their families that they neglect their spiritual needs. They don’t prepare themselves for eternity.
Starting in verse forty, we have an image of two people in a field. One is taken; another left behind. Two women grind grain. One is taken; another left behind. Put this passage together with one from First Thessalonians and you can come up with a best-selling work of fiction, the Left Behind Series.[3] But instead of running off in that direction, we need to consider what Jesus is talking about here.
The middle part of this passage, verses 40 to 42, is inserted between two short parables which serve as bookends. The first is about those in Noah’s day not being aware of what was happening. The second parable is about a homeowner who, if he knew when a thief was coming, would remain awake. Of course, you can’t stay awake all the time, so we prepare to stop the thief before he comes.
This passage isn’t really about Jesus’ return. Hear me out. We’re given no foresight in these verses into how Jesus will show up. Instead, it’s a reminder of our need to prepare for his return. To put it in another context, we prepare to return home, for earth is not our true home. You know, we do a lot to prepare for the holidays. Baking, decorating, wrapping presents, and so forth. But what do we do to prepare ourselves for meeting our Creator? What do we do to prepare ourselves for eternity? This passage reminds us that God has a claim on us. When we fail to take this claim seriously, we act foolish. For we don’t know when we must give an account of our lives. Jesus may return this today, or he may hold off another thousand years, we don’t know. As individuals, we may live to be a hundred or we may walk in front of a truck this afternoon, we don’t know. Therefore, it’s foolish to put off making things right with God.
Now let me address an issue that may arise in some of your minds. Just as this passage is more about preparing ourselves for meeting Jesus, whether he returns or when we die, likewise the passage isn’t about the hereafter. Don’t become, as the cliché goes, “so heavenly minded that you’re of no earthly good.” This isn’t Jesus’ intention.
Such ideas run counter to the Sermon on the Mount recorded earlier in Matthew’s gospel. “Do not worry about your life, what you’ll drink or eat or wear… Consider the lilies of the field… Don’t worry about tomorrow… Today’s trouble is enough for today.”[4]Jesus encourages us not to worry about those things we can’t control. Since we can’t control when Jesus returns, we certainly shouldn’t worry about it. Instead, be prudent. Be prepared.
We should take inventory of our lives. Where are we not reflecting God’s glory. We’re to confess our sins, we’re to repent and change our ways. We’re to forgive one another and restore relationships with our brothers and sisters. And we’re to accept the love God shows us through Jesus and live as his disciple. If we live in such a manner, there is no reason to worry.
Don’t put off the important stuff. If you need to reconcile with God, do it now. Don’t let important things slide. That’s the message of Advent! Amen.
[1] See Matthew 24:1-28. Frederick Dale Bruner, The Churchbook: Matthew 13-28 (1990, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2004), 522.
[5] As referred to by M. Craig Barnes in Searching for Home: Spirituality for Restless Souls (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2003), 60. See Dietrich Bonhoeffer, John Doberstein translator, Life Together (New York: Harper & Row, 1954), 26.
Happy Thanksgiving. Today I am thankful for a wonderful childhood.
Sheba, our English Setter, barked incessantly in the drainage ditch behind our house. Investigating, I found her moving around a pocket in the clay wall of the ditch. Draining water created these small caves which were common along the ditch bank.
“What is it girl?” I asked. I rubbed the dog’s head and leaned down to peer inside the hole. A good-sized turtle appeared to be hiding inside. Its head barely stuck out of what seemed to be a black shell. “Good girl,” I said, grabbing a stick. I slid the stick underneath its shell and tried to drag the turtle out when all a sudden its head, fangs flashing, struck the stick just below my hand. Dropping the stick, I jumped back. The snake’s body recoiled. Sheba barked even more frantically. She knew danger lurked.
I was ten years old and had come inches from being bitten by a water moccasin. Leaving the dog to guard the snake, I ran inside and told dad who came out, grabbing a hoe, and killed the snake. It was too dangerous for something that poisonous to be at the edge of our yard. A year or so later, a snake bit Sheba. Her snout swelling twice it’s normal size. The vet drained the poison and she convalesce a few days. Thankfully, she was soon back to normal.
Longleaf Forest. This photo was taken in Carolina Beach State Forrest, about 8 miles from where my memoir is set. You can see wiregrass along with prickly pear cactus in bloom. I took this photo in May 2024.
We moved to into a neighborhood called Tanglewood in the Myrtle Grove Sound area when I was nine years old. This was before the big building boom in Wilmington, which started around 1970 and hasn’t yet let up. There were only seven houses on our street, each sitting on a half-acre. Ours was one of the few exceptions. My father brought two lots, not wanting to be “crowded in.” In addition to the woods behind the house, we could cross the street and ramble through more swamps and pine forest until we came to the headwaters of Whiskey Creek, which I thoroughly explored after I purchased my first canoe when I was sixteen.
The woods across the street were the first to go. They built houses up and down the road. By the time I entered Roland Grice Junior High, all the lots had been sold I don’t remember just when the woods behind my parents succumbed to the great urban sprawl of the Southeast. My last trip exploring the bays and pine forest was during a break from college. A few years later, when visiting, I discovered the ditch filled in and houses standing where woods and bays once existed.
The drainage ditch behind our house was a wonderful place to play as a kid. When we first moved here, there was always water flowing. I didn’t realize this being an ominous sign as they were draining the swampy areas to the south of our house. As kids, we played in the ditch, hunting salamanders and turtles, and caught a few small, red-finned pike.
Also exciting were the carnivorous plants, especially the Venus flytrap with trigger-hairs in its cupped hands which snapped shut, imprisoning an unlucky insect as it feasted on its decaying body. The ditch also served us as a trench for us to re-enact Civil War battles. Having moved here from Petersburg, Virginia, I knew trenches played a major role during the Civil War. We fought our battles with friends, unaware that just a mile or so away our ancestors skirmished with Union soldiers. This was early in 1865, in a last ditch effort to delay the fall of Wilmington. Lee’s troops, hunkered down in the trenches around Petersburg, needed the provisions blockade runners brought into the city. They held back the Union soldiers long enough for most of the stockpiles at the city’s wharfs to be transported north.
Behind the drainage ditch were several square miles of woods and swamps. These swamps, known as Carolina Bays, consisted of an oval shaped depression filled with peat moss. In all but extremely dry periods, water filled the mossy depressions. Ringing these oval depressions were thick undergrowth including live oaks bearded with Spanish moss, bay trees, and pond cypress. The rest of the land, which was only inches higher than the bays, consisted of white sandy soil in which grew long-leaf pines. Occasionally, one came upon a patch of winged sumac or blackjack oak. Wiregrass covered the ground.
In ages past, these pine forests of eastern North Carolina supported a thriving industry for naval stores and turpentine. Evidence remained of such industry. Slash marks on the trunks of mature trees indicated someone had drained sap from the tree. There were also mounds, which we at first thought were Indian burial grounds, only to later discover they had something to do with burning pines while extracting pitch. But that was all in the past. By the time I explored the woods and bay, they were waiting development. But for a few years, they made a great playground.
Jeff Garrison Mayberry and Bluemont Churches John 14:15-31 November 23, 2025
Sermon recorded at Bluemont Church on Thursday, November 20, 2025
At the beginning of worship:
Just before the battle of Palo Alto in the Mexican-American War, Captain Jack Hayes supposedly prayed:
O Lord, we are about to join battle with vastly superior numbers of the enemy, and Heavenly Father, we would mightily like you to be on our side and help us. But if you can’t do it, for Christ’s sake, don’t go over to the Mexicans, just lie low and keep in the dark, and you will see one the of the dangest fights you’ve ever seen on this earth. Amen.[1]
We should remember we’re called to be on God’s side, not to win God over to our side! And God is by our side (maybe not in the way Captain Hayes desired), but God is there as an advocate and friend. And God can remain on both sides.[2] The Almighty is larger than earthly conflicts.
Before reading the Scripture:
Today I’ll finish my series on the Nicene Creed. When the Council of Nicene broke up in 325 AD, the third article of the creed simply said, “We believe in the Holy Spirit.” As I have indicated, the primary conflict 1700 years ago centered around Jesus and if he was God. Future councils felt that just as Jesus Christ is God, so is the Spirit. They expanded the third article to indicate that the Spirit is also God.
God’s Spirit gives us life. We see this in the garden when Adam was created. The spirit gives us the breath of life. It also provides life to the church. In line with this, the third article of the Creed addresses the church as well as our hope in the future.
I have made a point through the sermons to highlight how the Creed serves as the unifying document of all Christianity: Protestants and Roman Catholics as well as Orthodox and Coptic Christians. However, there is one slight difference between those of us in the West (Protestant and Roman Catholics) and those in the East. It has to do with one line where we say that the Spirit descends from the Father and the Son. Eastern Churches say he only descends from the Father.
This change occurred in a Council in Toledo in the 6th Century. Unlike the Council of Nicaea and Constantinople in the 4thCentury, this Council didn’t include all Christendom, which is why it’s not accepted by the Eastern Churches.[3]
Today, we’re following the passage from which I preached on two weeks ago, which if you remember took place around the table on the last night Jesus was with his disciples before the crucifixion. Here, Jesus builds on what he has already covered. Two weeks ago, we learned of Christ’s co-eternal existence with the Father. Last week, we focused on God’s incarnation in Jesus Christ. In this week’s text, we see that Jesus sweetens the deal with the promise that he’ll also be with us, here, on earth
This week, we’ll learn that the disciples (and this includes all of us) are to be incarnational witnesses to the world as we too are brought into this relationship. God, through the Spirit, comes from the Father at the request of the Son, and resides in believers. This incarnation—God being with us—allows us to be about the work of Christ.
Finally, this passage that I’m about to read provides the underpinnings for the doctrine of the Trinity, with the teachings of the Spirit which proceeds from the Father and the Son.[4] Within this passage, we’ll also hear the first two of five teachings from Jesus on the coming on the Spirit as told by John in his gospel.[5]This is an important promise, as John emphasizes by quoting Jesus in numerous places speaking about it. Without God’s Spirit, we’d be lost!
Read John 14:15-31
A true friend is one who sticks with us, regardless of our hair-brained ideas. Most of us, at best, have only a few such friends. But thankfully, when others fail us, Jesus promises us his presence. The promise expands Jesus implies this mystical union in which God is with us, by us, and in us. This presence we’re promised is the kind of friend who will never abandon us. It is also the kind of presence which offers us advice if we are willing to ask and listen, which will hopefully keep us from participating in hair-brained ideas.
“I will not leave you orphaned,” Jesus says. In the ancient world (and in many places today without government safety nets), to be orphaned is to be extremely vulnerable. Orphaned children in places like Southeast Asia often end up in horrific situations such as prostitution. To be orphaned is a scary proposition. This is why the Old Testament repeatedly demands the nation of Israel to care for the orphan, widow, and foreigner in their midst.[6] And when they don’t care for the orphan, they’re condemned.[7] To be orphan leaves you with no advocate.
God insists his people watch out for those who are vulnerable. It is scary to be alone. Being an orphan isn’t just something experienced by children whose parents have died. Middle aged men who have lost their jobs as factories close and are too old to be retrained in a new field are like orphans. Those abandoned by their spouse or lover and left with young children are like orphans. The elderly, when their spouse dies and their children all live on the other side of the country or globe are like orphans.[8]
We identify with the pain of each situation. Thankfully, Jesus promises his presence. At the same time, we should befriend the orphans around us because we know what God has done for us!
Now let’s go to the beginning of our text today. Jesus starts out with a promise that if we keep his commandments, he will send us a companion. What commandment is he referring to, we might wonder? Is it the commandment to love? Or is it the Ten Commandments. Elsewhere in Scripture, the term translated as “to keep” or “to fulfill the commandments” is used for the Ten Commandments and the word here for commandment is plural, indicating there are more than one of them.[9]
However, Jesus spent this evening encouraging the disciples to let themselves be loved by God. If you remember, before dinner, Jesus washed the disciples’ feet as a visual example of his devotion and love.[10] Because they are loved by God, they should love one another and to share that love with those who do not yet know the Father.[11] Jesus isn’t saying we must follow a bunch of rules. Instead, he invites us into a community of love.
If we love Jesus, he promises the Father will send us an Advocate, a companion, a friend, someone to always be with us. The Greek word here, translated as the Advocate, literally means “the One Called Alongside.” Other translations use “the Helper,” the Counselor” or “the Comforter,” all which capture a part of the meaning. This one who comes alongside is like a true friend, who will be there in an emergency, who will help us and vouch for our character.[12]
In verse 17, Jesus identifies this companion as the “Spirit of Truth.” Earlier in this chapter, in verse 6, Jesus referred to himself as the “Truth.” This is an example of how this passage is referring to the interworking of the Trinity. The Father, the Son and the Spirit, works together in a unity beyond our comprehension.
We see this line of thought continue in verse 18, which we’ve already looked at when I referred to us not being orphaned. Jesus promises to come back, but not in the way the disciples (and we) may desire. This isn’t a passage about the end times, but about the ongoing life of a Christ’s followers. Instead, Jesus continues in verse 19 to hint that the world may not see him, but those who love him and keep his commandments will. This will result in our knowing for sure that he and the Father exist in each other. In addition, and in an incarnational way, they also remain within the faithful.
This is way too much for the good Judas… I wonder if he changed his name after the bad Judas betrayed Jesus? John distinguished the good Judas from Judas Iscariot. The latter had already left the table to arrange Jesus’ betrayal.[13] Understandably, this Judas doesn’t understand Jesus. Attempting to explain in detail, Jesus speaks of how we, through love, are brought into an intimate working relationship with God. God loves us and we receive such love by obeying Jesus and sharing his love.
We’re to be true to our Savior, to follow him. But let me go off a bit from our text and remind us that although we’re to obey Christ and to do Christ’s work in the world, we need to remember we’re not in charge of the world. If we forget this, we take on too much of a burden and will quickly burn ourselves out. Yes, we love the world, but we’re not here to save it. We’re here to follow Jesus and to show his love and be grateful. Saving the world is God’s business.
In The World is not Ours to Save, the author, who worked for nuclear disarmament, speaks about the time he heard God speak to him. He attended a major disarmament conference at a hotel in San Francisco. There was a lot going on and he stepped into a stairwell to escape, to think, and to catch his breath. There he heard God’s calming voice: “The world is not yours, not to save or to damn. Only serve the one whose it is.”[14] We, too, have such a calling.
Jesus closes our passage anxious about what will happen soon. He’s going to meet the “ruler of this world. And it’ll look like Jesus lost on Friday afternoon, but come resurrection Sunday, we learn of God’s true love for the world. Jesus’ words given on the night of his betrayal continue to provide us hope and encouragement. But more importantly, it’s through the promised Spirit, we experience God’s presence. Amen.
[1] This was from a speech by Marjorie Thompson as the Montreat Spirituality Conference, as retold by John Salmon of Portland, OR.
[2] Abraham Lincoln made this point in his second inaugural address: “The prayers of both could not be answered. That of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has His own purposes.”
[3] There is more behind this “filioque” clause. See Phillip Cary, The Nicene Creed: An Introduction (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2023), 185f.
[4] Presbyterian Church (USA) Book of Confessions, “The Nicene Creed” 1.3
Jeff Garrison Mayberry and Bluemont Churches November 16, 2025 Philippians 2:1-11 Nicene Creed, Article 2, Part B
Recorded at Mayberry on Thursday, November 13, 2025
At the beginning of worship: As a Christian community, our faith is grounded in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Without Christ, little that we do here makes sense. Jesus Christ serves as the glue which holds the church together.
The membership requirements to be a part of the Presbyterian family, at least on the surface, are easily met. All you have to do is to realize your need of a Savior. In other words, admit your sinfulness. Then accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior.
That sounds simple until we dig into what it means and discover our primary allegiance belongs to Jesus alone: not to ourselves, our families, our bosses, a particular political party, our country, or even our favorite sports team. All those allegiances may have value, but they all take a seat behind Jesus. After all, earthly allegiances are fallible. In the end, only Jesus Christ is infallible and eternal.
Finally, to join the church, we agree to part of a new family. We’re to pray and support one another and the church as we commit yourself to follow Christ and to study God’s word as you strive to apply it to your life.
As I said, on paper, being a member of the church sounds easy, and I hope some of you who have not yet united with us in our faith journey will do so. But when we commit to join the church, it’s like joining the military. We sign our lives away. It no longer belongs to us, but to Jesus Christ.
Before reading the Scripture:
Today, as we continue our celebration of the 1700 anniversary of the Nicene Creed, we’re looking at the second part of the second article. Last week, we looked at the first half where we learned that Jesus is co-eternal with the Father. Once that’s established, the Creed shifts and for the first time deals with us. But even here, it’s not about what we’re to do, it’s still about what God is doing on our behalf. Here, the creed explains our salvation. Jesus comes to save a floundering world.
Martin Luther regarded the Creed “as a summary of the gospel, the saving word of God that gives us Christ—and in him gives us salvation—to be received by faith alone.”[1] Of course, once we receive salvation by faith, we’re to respond out of love.
Out text this morning comes from Paul’s letter to the Philippians. Much of this reading draws on a hymn which beautifully summarizes what we believe about our Savior, Jesus Christ.
Read Philippians 2:1-11
This passage is poetic and beautiful. The chapter begins with Paul making a personal plea for those in Philippi to live out their lives in the way of Christ. This would please Paul, who personally invested in establishing the church there. In a way, Paul has a personal stake in their wellbeing.
Paul calls on his readers to live with agape love, a love which looks out for the wellbeing of others. It’s a life of humility and as Paul suggests, our example is Christ.
There have been debate among scholars over the deeper meaning of these words beginning in the sixth verse. It’s widely accepted by scholars, at least going back to the 19th Century, this is an ancient Christian hymn on the incarnation.[2] When we speak of Jesus’ incarnation, we refer to how God embodied himself in a human life. In Jesus Christ, God became a person, just like you and me. It’s a mystery, yet an essential tenet of the Christian faith.
Now, it’s not important whether Paul wrote this hymn or someone else wrote it. Perhaps Paul just incorporated into his letter like I might allude to a hymn or a popular song in one of my sermons. What’s important is the unique relationship of God through Jesus Christ to us. This is what the second article of the Nicene Creed emphasizes.
However, unlike the Creed, Paul’s main emphasis isn’t theology, its ethics. The Creed shows what God has done for us, not what is expected of us. I think Paul would agree with the Creed. After all, our salvation isn’t about what we do, but what God has done for us. Knowing this, Paul wants us to consider how we live as Christ-followers. “Let the same mind be in you as was in Christ Jesus,” Paul writes. Or as the Message translates begins this passage, “Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself.” Paul presents Christ as the ultimate model for moral action.”[3]
Christ, who is equal to God in that mysterious union of the Trinity, did not exploit his position of power, but became a servant, a slave, to reach and lift us up. If we are Christ-like, we, too, will be so humble.
Pride is a dangerous thing, and we see from this ancient hymn, Jesus shuns pride for obedience. He takes on the human condition yet remains without sin. But he doesn’t brag about his accomplishments, instead he’s crucified for them. Because of his obedience, God lifts him up, restores him back to his divine and glorious state so that at the end of history, all will bow before him in worship and in doing so we will be bringing glory to the Father.
Although this passage shows one of the keys tenets of our theology—that God became a man and lived among us—it also illustrates the truth Jesus taught throughout his ministry: the last shall be first[4] and those who want to be great must first become a slave or a servant of all.[5]
We worship an awesome God who encourages us to strive to be “Christ-like” which means we must serve others… And as important as theology is to get right, it is more important that we live by what we believe. Do we believe what Paul emphasizes in this letter to the Philippians? But a more important question is this. Do we live like we believe it?
The late preacher Fred Craddock, commenting on this passage, summarizes these verses this way: “The hymn stands in the church’s Scripture not only to define lordship and discipleship, but also, as a judgment upon the kind of triumphalism that abandons the path of service and obedience.”[6] Humility should be a result of our faith, for we know what God has done for us.
As we see in this passage from Paul, Jesus Christ chose to come in the flesh. He could have stayed in heaven and avoided a lot of heartache, but then he couldn’t have shown us the way back to the Father.[7] So we worship a sovereign God who freely came to us. God now calls us through a Son to accept his forgiveness of our sins and then, with the help of the Holy Spirit, encourages us to live a godly life which honors the triune God and furthers God’s kingdom in the world. That, in a nutshell, is the core of the Christian life. It’s all about God and what God has done and can do in our lives.
This passage, as well as the Creed, lays out what God has done for us. We should celebrate this grace. The question now remains in our hand. Will we accept this grace and follow the path set forth by Jesus? Amen.
[1] Phillip Cary, The Nicene Creed: An Introduction (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2023), 103-104.
[2] Gerald F. Hawthorne, Philippians: Word Biblical Commentary #43 (Waco: Word, 1983), 76.
It may surprise some that I had lived in Virginia once before. I spent my first three years of school in Petersburg, Virginia. Between the third and fourth grade, I moved with my family to Wilmington, North Carolina, where I would live until I was 24. This memoir piece draws on my recollection of that first move. Most of these pictures I found last fall as my sister and I cleaned out my parent’s house.
The phone of the kitchen wall in the house on Doubs Chapel rang. Mom answered. She sounded excited.
“We’re moving to Virginia,” she said with her hand over the mouthpiece. “Do you want to talk to your dad?“
It may have been my first long distant phone call. In my five years, I hadn’t met anyone outside the local calling district. I placed the receiver to my ear and asked Dad if Virginia was another country.
Mom and us kids at the house on Doubs Chapel (between Pinehurst and Carthage, NC) .
Dad had started a new job that summer. He spent six months in Baltimore, wherever that was, in training. He occasionally came home for a weekend. We picked him up at the train station in Southern Pines. When he returned, he took an overnight sleeper on Sunday evening, arriving back in Baltimore early on Monday morning.
Once, when Mom wrote him a letter, which she often did, I decided to write one, too. The only words I knew how to write were the names of gas stations. We called them “filling stations,” back then. On a piece of paper, I wrote Esso, Shell, Sinclair, Gulf and Texaco. I even drew a dinosaur beside Sinclair. As the time to move got closer, Mom went up to Virginia with Dad and the three of us “youngins,” as we were called, stayed with my grandparents. I turned six then and my grandma threw a party for me and my older cousin Marie, who shared my birthday. Her dining room was cramped with cousins and friends from church.
That’s me at 6 years of age
We moved to Petersburg in late January 1963, just a week after my sixth birthday. I don’t remember much about the move, except for a long drive. Uncle Frank helped and all our stuff was loaded onto one of his farm trucks. I assume, since Dad had just started to work for the company for whom he’d work for the next 45 years, they didn’t provide expenses for the first move. When we’d move to Wilmington, North Carolina in 1966, we’d use professional movers.
It was after dark when we arrived at the rented cracker-box house on Montibello Street, overlooking toll booths along the Petersburg-Richmond Turnpike. A row of houses on the south side of the street, with our backyards dropping down to a small creek. Across the street was a chain-link fence which kept us from running out into all the traffic the moved between the Northeast and Southeast. Just south of town, I-85 and I-95 (although neither one was completed at this time) merged. If you headed north from New Orleans, Atlanta or Miami, you drove right by our house.
Being close to the freeway didn’t seem such a problem that January night as we moved in. But come spring, when we opened the windows, as there was no air conditioning, we heard a constant roar of trucks and cars. Those heading north braked for the toll booth while heading south accelerated as they continued their journeys into the night. That night, as we moved in, we heard the sound of music coming down the street. It was the ice cream man who also sold milk. We didn’t get any ice cream night, but would, in warmer months, look forward to his visits.
I have only snippets of memory about the house on Montibello Street. A gas floor heater in the hallway warmed the house. When heating, you could stand on the grate and watch the fire through a small window in the metal heater below. Shortly after moving in, it snowed. My sister placed her wet shoes on the heater and turned it up. When my mother discovered this, her shoes were well-done and curled.
Out back, the yard slopped down and there, my father taught me how to ride a bike. He had installed training wheels on the bike and blocks of wood on the paddles so my feet could reach them. After I got to where I could keep it upright, he took the training wheels off and I’d ride it down the hill and then turn and try to make it back up but generally gave up and walked the steep hill back to the house.
My grandma gave me some seeds. Corn and peas if I remember correctly. That spring before I started school, I planted a small garden on the hillside. I was proud of the handful of peas that I harvested. I don’t remember if we got any corn.
Our next-door neighbors, to the west, were the O’Neils. Mom was always telling us to be quiet when we were outside and they were home. I didn’t understand. They seemed stuck-up as they never talked or waved. I assumed that was because they were Yankees from New York. I knew they had a boy a few years older than me, but I only saw him in the backyard once, laying in a lounge chair, sunning. Mom wouldn’t let us go out and meet him.
Then, to my surprise, he died. We had to be especially quiet. Mom made pecan pies and took them over and afterwards they became good friends. About a year later, after we moved to Bishop Street, my brother and I was surprised to have a second Christmas several months after the holiday. There were all kinds of army stuff and an electric train in the living room one morning. The O’Neils had cleaned out his toys and given them to us. Years later, I learned he died of cancer.
On the other side of the O’Neil’s, at the last house on the street, lived a kid my age. His name was Robert and we became friends. His dad was in the Army and worked at Fort Lee. About the time school started, his family had a big party and Robert invited me, but my mother wouldn’t let me go because the adults were going to be drinking beer.
I should say something about church in Petersburg. Coming from Scottish Presbyterian stock, albeit over two hundred years since leaving the motherland, we first attended Second Presbyterian Church. Maybe we tried First Presbyterian, but I only remember the second one. There, in the sanctuary, someone took pleasure in showing us where a Yankee cannon ball crashed through the roof a mere 98 years earlier. The church had a big bell tower, but no steeple, the story being that the Yankees shot off the steeple during the Civil War. Afterwards, they rebuilt it only to be blown off by a tornado. They again rebuilt the steeple, but nine years earlier, in 1954, the winds of Hurricane Hazel once again removed it. I’ve always thought the church played by baseball rules and decided three strikes must mean God didn’t intend them to have a steeple.
It surprised me in 2004, when I was in a meeting in Richmond and drove down for an afternoon to see the church had a steeple,. Looking up the church history, it appears they added the steeple in 1984. And the only part I remembered correctly of the steeple story was that Hazel blew one off. The first steeple fell during construction which was early in the Civil War, a few years before the siege of Petersburg.
That September, I entered the first grade at Walnut Hill’s Elementary School. As there was a shortage of teachers and classrooms, so I was told, first graders only attended school half day. I pulled the morning shift and came home at lunch, passing by those going for the afternoon shift. Mostly, my parents took me to school and picked me up when it was time to come home. Once, I rode the city bus with Ellen. Mom had given me what she thought was the correct change, but I was a nickel short. I volunteered the nickel I had for milk, but the bus driver said I could pay him later. I never rode a bus again while we were in Petersburg. Well into adulthood I carried guilt with me for having cheated the bus company out of a nickel. I was in my 20s, when I told my mother about it and she assured me that she sent Ellen with the money I owed the next day. I’m not so sure, but it was a nice attempt to alleviate my guilt.
Once we moved to Bishop Street, we began attending St. Mark’s United Methodist Church. While my parents didn’t join, they did help out teaching Sunday School. The next church they joined was a Presbyterian one but that was after we moved. I assumed they knew we would not be longterm residents of Petersburg. The Methodist Church also had a Cub Scout program which I joined when I turned eight. I would earn my wolf and bear badges while being in a den where the den mother was a former Miss Virginia.
Ellen
We and the O’Neils moved about the same time. The next summer, when I was between the first and second grade, Ellen invited me to go with her to the city pool. She introduced me as her “boyfriend,” which made me a pretty proud kid having a girlfriend twice my age.
That fall, my parents brought a house on Bishop Street in Walnut Hills. At the time, it seemed large, but looking at photos, it wasn’t. Before moving in, Mom and Dad painted and fixed the house up. We were still in the process of moving the day my father picked me up at school. When we got home, Mom had the TV on, which had already been moved to the house, and was very upset. The President had just been shot. I will always associate our new house with Kennedy’s assassination.
My dad with the three of us at the Bishop Street house, maybe Easter Sunday, 1964
Jeff Garrison Mayberry & Bluemont Church November 9, 2025 John 14:8-17
Sermon recorded on Thursday, November 6, 2025 at Bluemont Church
Before the beginning of worship: At the end of the summer, billboards started appearing around our area. They read: “Jesus is not God: Jesus did not preexist in heaven.” One was on Highway 52, just outside of Fancy Gap.
This set off a firestorm, and many people became upset. Some complained to the county supervisors to have the signs removed. But the free speech amendment in the Constitution tied the \supervisors’ hands. A few became angry and resorted to vandalism. Some of the signs they spray painted out the “NOT,” so that the sign read, “Jesus is God,” with a black space in the middle.
While I disagree with the sign, I don’t think we should resort to vandalism of those with whom we disagree. Instead, we should consider this as a challenge. Sometimes, being challenged by ideas with which we disagree helps us sharpen our own faith and understanding. This can be a time for us to dig a bit deeper into our own theology, which is what I hope to do as we continue our exploration of the Nicene Creed this morning.
Before reading the Scriptures: Today, in our tour through the Nicene Creek, we’ll begin our exploration of what Jesus the Son means. As I stated two weeks ago, the crisis which led to the Nicene Creed came from a movement within the church known as Arianism. Those who followed this path, led by Bishop Arius of Alexander in Egypt, held that Jesus had been created by God the Father before the foundations of the earth. This clearly put a hierarchy within the godhead.
Those who disagreed with Arius, pointed out that as a creature, Jesus wouldn’t be very different from us. The Council of Nicaea was called to work out this dispute, which led to this great creed of the church which established two mysteries, the Trinity and the Incarnation of God in Jesus Christ.
As I pointed out last week, you can divide the creed nto three articles based on the Trinity. The short first article focused on God the Father, a topic which didn’t require much space as there was no controversy around the topic at this point in history. But the second article, which focuses on God the Son is longer because of the conflict over the nature of Christ. The Council insists that Jesus and God are the same. The Arian position was condemned as a heresy.
For my text today, I am going to the Gospel of John. We already heard the opening of the Gospel in our call to worship. There, in John’s prologue, we learn that the Word, another name for Jesus who is God’s revelation, has been with God all along, from the very beginning. In the 14th Chapter of John’s gospel, Jesus claims to be eternal with the Father.
It’s the night of the Last Supper. Jesus and his disciples gather for the final time before his crucifixion. Almost a quarter of John’s gospel focuses on this one night. Jesus begins by telling the disciples he’s leaving and will prepare a place for him. Thomas gets the first question concerning where Jesus is going and how can they go there if they don’t know where he’s going.
Next, Philip picks up the questioning in relation to the Father which we’ll see in our reading.
Read John 14:8-17 Over a period of several weeks, a minister listened to a parishioner tell the same fish story many times. Each time, the fisherman told the story, the fish took on a different dimension. Somethings he made the fish out to be a whale. Other times, the fish sounds like just a lively bass. Finally, the reverend felt he needed to confront this fisherman about his habitual lying. That next Sunday, after worship, he called the man aside. He told him about hearing the same story told in a variety of ways to different listeners. He encouraged him to be truthful.
“Well, you see,” the fisherman explained. “I must be realistic. I never tell someone more than I think they’ll believe.”[1]
You know, we can only understand and comprehend so much. In our passage this morning from John’s gospel, we must wonder if Jesus overloaded his disciples. He attempts to teach them about the unique relationship between him and God the Father along with our relationship to the Holy Spirit. This is enough to cause our heads to spin. This morning, I want us to concentrate on Jesus’ relationship to the Father. From this passage we learn our knowledge of God comes from our knowledge of Jesus Christ, which is why it’s important to study and know him. From Jesus’ life, we can understand God.
Our passage begins with Philp begging to see God the Father. “Jesus, that’s all we need. Then we’ll be satisfied.” “Show me,” Philip demands. Sounds like Philip’s descendants may have ended up as residents of Missouri, the “Show Me” state.
You know, in the first chapter of John’s gospel, Philip easily answers God’s call.[2] Perhaps now, after having been with Jesus for three years, Philip begun to wonder just what he got himself into. He desires a grand demonstration, perhaps an encounter like Moses experienced at the burning but not burning bush. Such presentations are rare and would not be forthcoming.
But let us think about Philip’s question. “Show us the Father, and we’ll believe.” We all would like a bit more evidence. I mean, wouldn’t it be great to see God and that be all it took. Then everyone would believe, right? But it doesn’t work like that. Earlier in this chapter, in his questions and answers with Thomas, Jesus said “I am the way, the truth, and the life, that no one comes to the Father except through me.”[3] Faith involves trust and mystery, which is what the Creed is about as it teaches us about Jesus’ incarnation and the mystery of the Trinity.
It sounds strange but after living with the Master for three years, the disciples still don’t understand the unique relationship between Jesus, the man, and God the Father. And we should be honest. It’s hard to grasp the idea that God and a man are one in the same, which is the mystery of the incarnation which is at the heart of the Creed.
I think Jesus emphasizes this relationship on his last night with the disciples to prepare them for what’s ahead. They’re not to be abandoned, but God’s through the Spirit will be with them, guiding them and helping them to do even greater things that what Jesus did during his earthly ministry. Jesus stuck with them for three years, and through the Spirit, in that unique relationship known as the Trinity, he’ll still be with them and us.
As we saw last week, the idea of God the Almighty Creator wasn’t in debate at Nicaea. But they did debate the relationship of Jesus to God and to us. The first half of the 2nd Article of the Creed deals with the relationship between God and Jesus. Next week, we’ll look at the second half of the second article, which deals with Jesus’ relationship with us and our salvation. But before we get there, the Creed establishes Jesus as God. This is my argument against that billboard which appeared on roads around western Virginia back in the late summer.
We’re told in the Creed that the Lord Jesus Christ is the only Son of God. But the Creed doesn’t end there. The Creed continues by stating Jesus is eternally begotten. The two may seem similar but by insisting on “eternally begotten,” they imply Christ’s eternal nature with God. This was against the Arians who taught that Jesus was created by God, which would then mean that Jesus is a creature. And we’re not to worship creatures or Creation. We can appreciate creation, as it’s the work of God’s hands, but we only worship God, the Creator.
Next, the Creed provides a list of parallel traits which may make us wonder. Jesus Christ is God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God… each of these emphasize further the eternal nature of Christ.
Next, we return to the beginning, where we are again reminded that Jesus Christ is begotten not made. Again, this implies Jesus is not a part of God’s creation. This line continues with Christ being of one being with the Father.
This part of the creed used a Greek word, homoousious, which combines the Greek “Homo” meaning “the same” with the word “ousia,” which stems from the word for means “to be.” The Creed emphasizes Jesus as the very essence of God.[4]
It seems those who wrote the Creed went a little overboard in their linking Jesus Christ and God. But this, like the doctrine of the Trinity, is a mystery. While we may not always understand, we accept by faith that Jesus came to show us the way to the Father and by seeing him, the disciples and first witnesses saw the Father. For this reason, Jesus is to be worshipped and adored.
One of the great hymns of the church, which we’ll sing in a minute, begins, “Crown Him with Many Crowns, the Lamb upon his throne.”[5] This hymn draws upon the vision John has in the fifth chapter of Revelation. There, John glimpses the eternal glory of Christ, a passage I preached on in the summer.[6] But it also reminds us that Christ does more than teach us about how to live. Christ is to be worshipped. And we can do that because we only worship God. And Christ, in some mysterious way we can’t fully grasp, is God. Amen.
[1]Snappy Steeple Stories, compiled by Oren Arnold, page 43.
Candice Millard, River of the Gods: Genius, Courage, and Betrayal in the Search of the Nile
(New York: Doubleday, 2022), 349 pages including notes, bibliography, and an index. In addition are 16 pages of prints.
It’s amazing that in the middle of the 19th Century, vast areas in places like Africa remained unknown, including the source of the Nile. . In comes Richard Burton, the English explorer, who put together a team to find the source. While he didn’t succeed, one of his assistants and nemesis, John Hanning Speke did discover and document the source of the Nile in a later trip. To put this in context of what was occurring in the world at the time, the first trip was when the Indian Mutiny occurred. Speke’s later expedition was during the American Civil War.
This book is filled with excitement and misadventures. One such event involved an attack attacked in what is now Somalia, which was just as dangerous then as now. In the attack, a spear pierced Burton’s cheeks, leaving him with a lifelong scar.
I have had this book has been on my radar for several years, but I found myself questioning if it was worthy to read. the time in to read it. But having read the other three books by Candice Millard (The River of Doubt, Destiny of the Republic, and Hero of the Empire), all of which I enjoyed, I finally decided to give this book a try. I’m glad I did.
Millard provides biographical information not only of Speke and Burton, but also several others involved in the expedition. One of these, Sidi Mubarak Bombay, was most interesting. An African, his village was attacked when he was a child. Taken to India as a slave, upon the death of his master, he came back to Africa and helped with all the expeditions.
Burton and Speke’s relationship was always tense. At the end of the expedition, Burton fell ill which delayed his returni to England. Speke, who went ahead of him, claimed credit for the expedition’s finding. The story of Burton and Speke ends tragically. The two were to have a debate, but hours beforehand, Speke died from a gunshot. Was it an accident (as he was a skilled and safe hunter) or did he do it on purpose?
I found myself interested in Burton and may have to read more about his life. Burton mastered languages. As a non-Muslin (he was mostly agnostic), but with a master of Arabic and having studied the Koran, he traveled to Mecca and participated in the Hajj. Dressing the part, he passed himself off as Shaykh Abdullah. He lived to tell of his adventures which he published in a book.
Unlike Speke and most Britains, Burton preferred native dress. He also didn’t see himself as superior just because he was British but respected the people and their customs. However, some things he abhorred such as the Arab slave trade through Africa, which was still going on in the middle of the 19th Century. However, his interest repulsed many in Victorian England such as translating the Karma Sutra into English.
A side story in this book is the relationship between Burton and his young wife, Isabel Arundell. To the horror of her mother, Isabel fell for Burton when she was vyoung. They had a long relationship, but because of Burton’s travels and her family’s disapproval, they didn’t marry for some time. Not only was Burton not affluent, the Arundells were Catholic. Isabel had even considered becoming a nun if she couldn’t gain Burton’s interest. She was willing to travel with her husband on his journeys, but Burton was beginning to slow down by the time they married. She remained devoted to him and helped him with his writings.
This is an exciting book and, somewhat like the first book I read by Millard, River of Doubt. In River of Doubt, she explores a 1914 expedition by Teddy Roosevelt down one of the uncharted rivers in South America. Both books are good stories with lots of insight into the time and what those involved in the expeditions endured.
James M. Dixon, Things I’ll Never Forget: Memories of a Marine in Viet Nam,
Malcolm Hillgarter, narrator (2018, Brilliance Audio),9 hours and 36 minutes.
Graduating from high school in 1965, and not sure what he wants out of life, Dixon joins the Marines. Describing the dinner where he broke the news to his parents is well told. His mother drops her coffee cup and leaves crying. His father congratulated him, but then you learn the family are Quakers, even though his father had served in World War 2. Dixon had initially wanted to join the Army rangers with a friend. But they discovered he was slightly colorblindness and the Army refused to take him. Leaving, he and his friend talked to the Marine Corp recruiter, who promised all kinds of things which turned out not to be true. Unaware of the lies, the two signed up.
The first part of the book tells of his experiences in boot camp at Parris Island. I didn’t realize they had shortened basic training and advance infantry training as the war begin to heat up. Humor fills training experience.. After completing these two courses, he heads to school in Camp Pendleton, California, to be trained as a MP (military police). From there, he travels by ship to Vietnam, with stops in Hawaii and Japan. This was certainly no cruise with the overcrowded ship swaying in the high seas they first experienced leaving the West Coast.
Dixon’s first half of his Vietnam tour was as an MP, mostly guarding the Danang airbase. Then, as happened to many Marines MPs, the Corp transferred him to the grunts. This was much more dangerous as they ran missions into enemy held positions where they set ambushes (and at times found themselves ambushed). He tells the stories straightforward, without glamorizing or glorifying them. Some things he did and saw are hard to stomach. In one battle, he saw a VC dressed figure duck. He shot and then realized it was a boy without a weapon.
On another occasion, they dropped charges into a tunnel, thinking it was a VC hideout only to learn it contained a mother and children. Once, on an extended mission, they captured two VCs. The Lieutenant had the interpreter to ask one about enemy position. He refused to say anything, so the Lieutenant pulled his pistol and shot the man in the head. The other captured soldier began to tell them everything. When they felt they had learned what they could, they let him go, only to shot him in the back as he fled.
Dixon later became a radio operator. This was even more dangerous as radio operators were one of the three most likely positions to be shot by snipers (officers and corpsmen or medics were the other two). He didn’t like this position but when his platoon’s radio operator when down, he was nearby and ordered to pick up the radio.
During his time in Vietnam, he lost a lot of friends and several of their deaths stick with him. One of the saddest involved two buddies who had spent their time together. One was killed and then booby trapped by the VC, so when the other found his deceased friend, he rolled his body over only to take the bast of a grenade that had been planted under the body.
I am still not sure about this book. I can’t understand a Quaker who tells such stories without judgment. However, the book is well written. The author, after Vietnam, taught school for over 30 years.
After a period of dryness, the end of October turned cool and rainy. And, with watching an incredible World Series, it was time to pull out a puzzle. This is “The World of Jane Austen,” and is the third such puzzle we’d done, the other two focusing on Charles Dickens and William Shakespeare.
