We want to celebrate with April as she was ordained on Saturday, September 13, 2025 at Tabernacle Baptist Church as a 11:00 AM Worship Service.
If you were unable to make it in person, watch it live on the livestream, here is the recording of the Ordination Service.
Congratulations to the Reverend April Kennedy!
What do you do when the door won’t open—when you’ve prayed, pushed, and persisted, only to find yourself still stuck? This week, Pastor Sterling Severns reflects on Luke 11:1–13, where Jesus responds to his disciples’ request: “Teach us to pray.” With insight from theologian Robert Farrar Capon, this homily explores prayer not as a formula for success but as a deep practice of surrender and connection.
Sterling walks us through the mystery of persistence in prayer—not to wear God down, but to wear down our own illusions of control. Sometimes the door doesn’t open right away. Sometimes it’s not the door that moves, but us. And sometimes, in the weariness and surrender, we discover that God has been with us all along, even before the door creaked open.
Whether you’re questioning, clinging, or simply tired, this episode offers a spacious, compassionate reminder: prayer doesn’t always change the circumstances, but it opens us to the God who is unshakably present in the midst of them.
July 13, 2025 Luke 11:1–13 Rev. Sterling Severns, Pastor
The disciples of Jesus have been following him for a while now. They notice that there’s something different about him beyond just his ability to perform miracles and the wisdom teaching and all the things it’s about. The way that he prays, they notice that when he goes off to spend time with God, he comes back kind of with a reset button having been hit or a renewed resolve. They become aware the more time that they spend with him, that there’s something about the quality, or whatever is that’s happening there in his connection with God that helps him in the moments that he finds himself being criticized. On the other side of the criticism, something that sustains him when he’s clearly getting weary. There is something about the quality of the nature of the way that he prays that sustains him. And so they ask the innocent question, hey, how do we pray like that? Teach us to pray now the cross thing at the beginning of our spiritual journeys, when we first start out, one of the great gifts of the initial period of time that we find ourselves just open and aware to the grace of God is that doors just kind of open for us as we go through them, we have a keen awareness early in our faith, In our childlike faith.
It seems that when we approach an obstacle, a wall, or, in today’s context, a door, we just kind of assume, maybe, I don’t know how to say it, we assume the door is going to open, and it does. Can you remember a time in your life when things felt pretty easy for a lot of you, that was a long time ago? Anybody? Yeah, for most all of us, if not all of us, it’s been so long since life felt that way that we don’t even remember that moment in our lives. Because the longer that we walk in faith, the more we discover as we do life, that more doors are on the way, right? So whereas at first we may just walk through the door or we just assume God’s going to open it and God opens the door, we’re good, but then the longer that we move along, we find that we have to work at it a little bit more. Here’s the great truth that I’d like to share with you in this brief little homily today, the perception of this passage of Scripture is that if we can just nag it, God enough, God will finally be so sick of hearing us that we’ll get what we ask for.
Robert Farrar Capon, one of my favorites, the quintessential go to for all things. Parables says that so many of us approach God as if prayer is a vending machine. You know, some of you are so young you haven’t used a lot of vending machines where you understand the frustration of putting all the quarters in and then watching your candy bar get stuck as it slowly is swiveling and it gets stuck, and you find yourself doing what, shaking the living daylights out of it, kicking it. And now you’ve gone and hurt yourself, and now you need to feed your feelings. So you’re going to need two candy bars, not one. And before you know it, and finally, it pops out, and Farrar Capon and says, No, that’s not prayer. That’s not what this author is saying, if you walk away from a parable and it tells you what you went into it, assuming that you knew what it was going to say, you’ve probably missed it. It’s not about wearing God out.
When I was a teenager, I knew that if I needed to get. Way with something I should approach my mom, not my dad. My dad was the hard liner in our house. I so desperately wanted to go snow skiing, which is such a joke, because in central Tennessee, you don’t have a whole lot of skiing options. You might as well be in Dubai, where you have skiing but like, come on. But sure enough, in Crossville, there was this tiny, little one hill ski resort, and I couldn’t wait to get to it, and my mom said, I am not giving you permission. If your dad says you can go, you can go. And I remember begging my dad at first, and then it was very clear that wasn’t going to happen. And finally, I knew my dad’s buttons enough that I knew if I pushed hard enough at this point with where he was in life, he may very well relent, and he did. The weather forecast was terrible. They were calling for ice, and I actually wore my dad out to the point that he said, Fine, just go. And sure enough, halfway there, we got hit on the interstate, and we ended up spinning out of control and almost hit a tree off of the interstate. A tow truck had to be called pull us back on the interstate. We ended up still the vehicle was operational. We were able to go and we skied our little one hill ski trip, and I came home, and to this day, I don’t know that my dad knows that I was in a car accident on the way there.
It’s not how it works. Here’s how it works. You didn’t get the life that you thought you would or for the religious types, we didn’t get the life that we thought we should have gotten. It didn’t pan out how we thought it would. And when we approach the doors as they come, one after the other, you know, sometimes in crisis, sometimes in deep pain, and other times, we just get worn out from doing the right thing over and over again, and somehow we just lose the ability to see that God is walking with us, that God is with us. In my own experience, I have had this experience multiple times now in adulthood, where I find myself looking at a proverbial door, and thinking to myself, I know how to get this door open. I’ve seen doors just like this door. I know how to do this. And I even assume that God expects me to be the one that opens it, and I end up beating on that door and turning that handle a million times and kicking on that door to the point that I have no energy left in my body, only to slunk down against that very door, and with what little energy I can muster, throw my hands up in the air and say, God, this is the end. I can’t do it. And sure enough, it’s the moment that I say I can’t, that I find that that door that I’m now leaning against, slunk down, just falls open, and I fall forward with this deep awareness that God just did something that I know I can’t.
It’s Not about God as Santa Claus giving us what we wish for. It’s not about the vending machine. It’s about our persistence and the necessary knocking. That is more about us wearing our own selves out, our egos out, so that we know that ultimately, prayer is not about getting what we ask for but so much more getting a constant awareness that we are not alone.
Jesus doesn’t say pray, and let’s see if you earn it. He just says it over and over again. Come to Me and, prayer….. intimacy…. is how God does that best.
Teach us to pray like you do Jesus, Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Your kingdom come not mine. Your will be done, not mine. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive us, Lord, the way that we forgive other people by your example and please enough doors already lead us, not into temptation, but no matter what, just try to deliver us from ourselves and the evil in us. Amen.
Amen.
On Sunday mornings, I have the privilege of sitting up front in the blue fabric chair just behind the pulpit before worship really gets going.
For over 20 years, I’ve settled into that chair nearly every week, watching the congregation arrive for worship. Some of you walk in quietly, take a bulletin, and slip into a pew for quiet reflection, while others of you move through the room greeting one another. And then there are those of you in the Virtual Acre doing something similar in your own way—settling in with coffee, saying good morning in the chat, making space for worship wherever you are.
One of the things I’ve come to love about sitting in that seat is that it gives me such a clear view of what happens next. I get to see the slow, quiet convergence as you arrive from all over, carrying the week behind you, your burdens and joys in tow, and gradually our voices begin to join together.
There’s something beautiful about those first notes of the gathering song. It’s one of those sacred moments when our gathered bodies become The Gathered Body—when the many individual parts begin coming together as one.
As worship continues, that sense of shared space only deepens. When some of you stand to share your testimonies—each one unique, rooted in your own lived experience—there’s this mystery where your stories begin to resonate with all of us. When others of you lead us in song, guide us in prayer, or serve in so many other ways, your offerings invite us deeper into this shared experience of worship.
We start to hear our own questions, struggles, and hopes echoed back.
It’s in that sharing, both spoken and silent, that we remember we’re not just a collection of individuals, but brought together by the Spirit of God, learning again and again to share our lives, lift our voices, and find grace in the faces around us.
It’s one of those times when our scattered lives find a shared voice, drawn together by the Spirit, ready to sing grace into the world.
Rev. Sterling Severns, Pastor
Sterling Severns
“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”
– Annie Dillard
There’s something unflinching about Jesus here.
Luke says he “set his face toward Jerusalem.”
It’s the moment he stops wandering and starts going.
Not drifting. Not hedging.
But choosing the road ahead—come what may.
He’s honest about it.
Bracingly so.
He says following will cost you.
He says you’ll have to let go of “but first.”
He says you can’t plow straight if you keep looking back.
And it’s not cruelty that makes him speak this way.
It’s love that refuses to lie.
He knows the road leads through suffering.
But he also knows it’s the only road that leads to life.
I think there’s mercy in that clarity.
A grace in being told the truth about what matters most.
Because when you know the cost, you get to choose freely.
And love that’s chosen freely is the only kind that lasts.
I imagine us standing there together in that moment.
Hearing his voice.
Not with shame. Not with fear.
But with a holy honesty that says:
“Yes. Even this. I’ll follow.”
I wonder:
I wonder what “but first” you’re holding onto these days.
I wonder what you’d have to lay down to follow more freely.
I wonder what you might gain on the other side of that choice.
As we prepare for worship next Sunday, I hope you’ll take time to read ahead in the Gospel—Luke 10:1–11, 16–20.
Jesus sends seventy others on ahead of him.
He doesn’t weigh them down with baggage.
He sends them lightly, with trust and purpose, to bring peace and healing wherever they go.
He tells them to say: “The kingdom of God has come near.”
If this week is about choosing the road,
Next week is about walking it—together.
And there’s hope in that.
We don’t walk alone.
I wonder:
As you read and pray this week,
I wonder what it would mean for you to go lightly.
I wonder how you might speak peace into someone’s life.
I wonder where you might notice God’s kingdom drawing near.
May God grant us the grace to see clearly,
the courage to choose freely,
and the love to walk this road with one another.
Yours in Christ,
Rev. Sterling W. Severns
Pastor
Last Sunday in worship I shared a small piece by Frederick Buechner called Sacrament. It begins with these sentences: “A sacrament is when something holy happens. It is transparent time – time when you can see through to something deep inside time.” Something sacramental began on Sunday as we celebrated our shared ministry of over 45 years. We celebrated connection to God and to one another and we stood on the edge of time looking backward and fearfully beginning to peek forward.
I cannot thank you enough for 45+ years of shared ministry. We have walked together and sung together through joy and sorrow always looking to God for the way through. As I step away from “professional” ministry and the congregation steps into a time of change and discernment we can both walk boldly into sacramental time when our awareness of the Holy that surrounds us will guide us on the road forward. Last Sunday was an amazing experience of celebration and remembrance. Let it be a sacramental beginning for both of us
Thank you for sharing life and music in the service of God with me. The road does indeed lead on with God’s guidance. I can’t wait to see what is around the next turn.
Grateful,
Judy
“A sacrament,” Frederick Buechner once wrote, “is when something holy happens. It is transparent time—time when you can see through to something deep inside time.”
A Moment Worth Holding
And wouldn’t you know it, last Sunday felt like that.
Not holy in a big, dramatic sort of way.
Nothing flashy. Nothing staged.
But holy in a way that you could feel in your chest.
In the quiet that settled before a hymn.
In the steady presence of people who knew this moment mattered.
In the kind of moment you know you’ll carry with you.
Judy stood there—humble, clear-eyed, and fully herself—and guided us, as she always has, with the kind of wisdom that doesn’t need to raise its voice. She reminded us that Baptists don’t really “do” sacraments. But that doesn’t mean we don’t know when we’re standing on sacred ground.
“This is a transition,” she told us. “But more than that—it’s a glimpse. A thin place. Transparent time.”
She was teaching us to notice the holy humming beneath the familiar. To pay attention.
Last Sunday felt like one of those moments where the everyday and the sacred sit side by side, and you can sense something deeper just beneath the surface.
Music lifted us, stories grounded us, and a spirit of celebration reminded us who we are together. We honored Judy Fiske, Organist Emerita, for her years of ministry—decades spent faithfully stitching together worship and community in ways that have shaped us more than words can express.
We hold Judy, Eric, and their entire family in prayer as they step into this new season—a time to rest, reconnect, try new things, and enjoy being together in a different rhythm of life. We also anticipate seeing Judy in worship again in September—not in a staff role, but as a fellow worshiper. We’ll be eager to see her at the organ bench with some regularity, though we’re still discerning what that rhythm will be.
We’re deeply grateful for the many hands and hearts that planned and facilitated such a meaningful day—thank you for helping us mark this transition with so much love and care.
The beauty of that moment continues to echo in the life of our church.
This Sunday’s Gospel: Luke 8:26–39
This Sunday, Jesus steps off a boat and into the chaos of a man’s life. The man’s name is Legion. That alone tells you plenty. He’s a walking crowd of pain.
But Jesus doesn’t flinch. He sees through to the deep inside.
And in that seeing, there’s healing.
In that moment—terrifying and tender and beautifully human—there is mercy.
Not the kind that says “I’ll pray for you” and keeps walking. The kind that stops, listens, lingers. The kind that stays.
Jesus sends the man home, not just well, but whole. With a story to tell.
Like him, we too are walking forward with a story to tell—grateful for healing, grounded by mercy, and reminded that our calling is not just to look back with thanks, but to look ahead with hope.
That’s where we are, church. On the edge of something new.
Listening to the Spirit who whispers, “Now go tell what God has done for you.”
We invite you to be in prayer for our pastoral and music staff, and for our congregation, as we take up the shared work of worship planning and leadership. These next few weeks will be a time of transition—filled with both memory and discovery. Let’s ask God’s Spirit to guide us gently and clearly through each step.
And together, we will keep walking—grateful for what has been and expectant for what is still to come.
Grace and Peace,
Rev. Sterling W. Severns
Senior Pastor
We will celebrate Judy’s 45 + years of ministry at TBC on Sunday, June 15th. The celebration luncheon will take place in the Fellowship Hall. If you are unable to make it in person, we will have a zoom link so you may participate in the program portion of the luncheon. The link will be posted as we get closer to the date. For the worship service you may join us via Livestream.
You may access the livestream for Sunday Worship by clicking here.
After thoughtful consideration, key representatives of Church leadership have made a unanimous decision that no church programming will take place on our physical premises this Sunday. This decision was made due to safety concerns related to the current condition of the exterior of our buildings, entrances and exits, combined with recent and anticipated weather events.
We understand this change may come as a surprise, especially since we’ve been accustomed to using our livestream in similar situations. However, this Sunday will look a little different as we gather on Zoom for a more personal and interactive experience.
Here’s what to expect:
11 am – 11:10 am: A brief formal gathering to center us for the morning.
11:15 am – 12:00 pm Breakout Rooms: After the formal gathering, you’ll have the opportunity to join one of three breakout rooms
Rooms 1 & 2: Guided Conversation on Baptism: Judy Fiske and Sterling Severns will invite reflection and discussion on the significance of baptism in our lives.
Room 3: Epiphany Star Words Led by April Kennedy, this room is for those who didn’t receive an Epiphany Star Word last week or would like to reflect on their word more deeply. You’re welcome to linger and join in a conversation about the significance of these words and how they’ve offered guidance and meaning in the past.
We appreciate your understanding, flexibility, and grace as we prioritize the safety and well-being of our community. We look forward to seeing your faces on Zoom this Sunday as we gather in a new and meaningful way.
Grace and peace,
Sterling, Judy, April, and Vincent (Staff), Jessica C. (Administrative Board Chair), John G. (Deacon Representative), Donna S. (Chair of Building and Grounds)
Zoom info:
Meeting ID: 837 5539 7125
Passcode: 123807
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Greeting Tabernacle Family!This week is the 19th Sunday after Pentecost and Sunday number 4 of Romans.
This Sunday our scripture passage is Romans 3:1-20. I will again encourage you to read this passage in as many different translations as you can find. This passage reminds me of a time in my life when I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to get to the end of a sin chain that began with something good—–like I sacrificially gave a gift to someone who needed it which meant I had done something good, but then I was proud of myself for doing something good for someone which meant I had done something bad (Matt.6:3) —–so then I “repented” for being proud and ended up being proud of myself for regretting being proud in the first place and this process just kept going—-a never ending sin cycle which began with a good action.
Such is life under the law and it seemingly does you no good to be a religious insider in this situation, it just causes you to ask more questions. During this time period I also spent a lot of time with an old gospel song that goes like this “I am satisfied with Jesus, He has done so much for me, He has suffered to redeem me, He has died to set me free. I am satisfied, I am satisfied, but the question comes to me as I think of Calvary, is the Master satisfied with me.” (B. B.McKinney, 1926)
This song served both to remind me that I had responsibility to keeping thinking about that “sin cycle” so I did not get stuck in one of the “proud” cycles and that in spite of the “sin cycle” I had Jesus on my side. This seems to me to be a bit of what Paul is trying to express in these verses in Romans. So much sin and so much of God loves you!
Come Sunday and explore this chapter of Romans with us and discover what it means in your life. The following Sunday, Oct. 6, will be World Communion Sunday.
Judy
Dr. Judy Fiske
Minister of Worship/Music
