The first lines of this old poem by Winfred Ernest Garrison were given by Admiral Rickover to all his submarine Captains & to president John Fitzgerald Kennedy, who kept it on his oval office desk.
In times such as ours it is so easy to feel small & insignificant or even helpless. And yet, we have the history of the early church, the disciples huddled in the upper room following the crucifixion of Jesus. On Pentecost, though small in number, the eleven, perhaps, plus a few among them, & they were set on fire, tongues of fire resting on each one. Transformed & Enriched they became apostles, the sent-out pro-claimers of the gospel. We are their descendants!
So, our small boat-load of Christians at All Saints continue to follow in their footsteps. We gather as a community briefly on Sundays at 10:00am & then we re-enter our daily lives filled with the Holy Wind, filled with the Holy Spirit. With that Holy Spirit, we share the love of God & work so that our prayers may become reality, that God’s will may be done on earth as it is in heaven.