Becoming a Church That Sees

When neighbors ask me how things are going at church, the word that keeps surfacing is “alignment.” What a gift it has been to cast our eyes in the same direction and focus our attention on unity.

These days feel familiar. More than 20 years ago, after a sustained season of longing and discernment, we began to sense the Spirit preparing us for something new. It was in that season, as in this one, we found ourselves leaning into trust that God wasn’t finished with us yet.

The leap of faith we took together in the first decade of the 2000s was met by God’s abundant grace and brought about a tremendous season of vitality. The threshold we now stand upon in the mid-2020s feels familiar. It feels like God is drawing us, yet again, toward a future shaped by hope.

Life Together Over the Last Six Months

Over these last six months, we’ve experienced so much life together:

  • We’ve seen long-needed facilities improvements take shape throughout the building, thanks to the dedication and diligence of many behind the scenes.
  • We’ve also witnessed a deepening commitment to participatory worship, as more and more congregants have stepped forward to serve in worship leadership, enriching our shared experience of God’s presence.
  • We ordained Rev. April Kennedy into Gospel Ministry.
  • We celebrated baptisms with Brenda, Spencer, Adah, Luke, Ben, and Raquel.
  • We grieved the passing of Jean and Woody, everyday saints whose lives shaped us in lasting ways.
  • We’ve embraced new rhythms and responsibilities. One of the most tender transitions in our shared life was Judy Fiske’s retirement from the staff after 45 years of faithful ministry. Her move from a staff leadership role to “the pew” has been met with grace on every side, a testament to Judy, the congregation, and the steady presence of our staff team.
  • We celebrated ministries, honored quiet acts of faithfulness, deepened relationships, and tended to the daily rhythms of church life in ways too numerous to name.

Becoming a Church That Sees and Is Seen

For generations, we’ve been known as the church that feeds people, a reputation rooted in compassion and care. That calling remains strong, but we are also maturing into a church that sees people with deepening clarity and compassion.

This has long been true of who we are, but in this season, people are beginning to name it. More and more are saying they feel seen. And in being seen, they are helping us see more clearly who God is calling us to be.

This clarity is shaping how we serve, how we prepare, and how we receive the gifts God is bringing through our neighborhood.

We are also becoming a church that is being seen, seen by neighbors across our city, some for the first time in a long while.

Building for Hope

The Building for Hope initiative is a powerful expression of this transformation. It has become a prayerful invitation to reflect on who we are, to name what we cherish, and to faithfully imagine the kind of future God is calling us to pursue together.

We are also becoming a church that is increasingly visible to our neighbors across the city, many of whom are engaging with us in meaningful ways for the first time in a long while. The Building for Hope initiative is a powerful expression of this transformation. It has become a prayerful invitation to reflect on who we are, to name what we cherish, and to faithfully imagine the kind of future God is calling us to pursue together.

Gratitude and the Road Ahead

We’re not naïve about the challenges ahead. These are demanding days for churches everywhere. And they are also sacred days.

I am grateful for the renewed energy among us, the unity we’re experiencing, and the growing sense that we are pushing forward because we believe God is doing something new.

Thank you to our staff, who lead with deep care and conviction. Thank you to our lay leaders, who carry the weight of this work with faith and joy. And thank you to each of you, for continuing to show up with open hands and hearts.

These are good days. Let’s keep walking together.

Grace and Peace,

Rev. Sterling W. Severns, Pastor

Poinsettias

Thank you to all who have donated poinsettias in honor or memory of loved ones. Your gifts not only beautify our sanctuary, but also serve as a meaningful tribute to those who hold a special place in our hearts. We are grateful for your thoughtful generosity.

In Memory of

  • Corbitt Family, in memory of Mildred and Kenneth Inman.
  • Corbitt Family, in memory of Marion and Bill Fullerton.
  • The Crislips, in memory of K. June Mullins.
  • Janice Grant and Steve Slager, in memory of Janet M. Slager.
  • Penny Jenkins, in memory of Woody Jenkins.
  • Barbara Little, in memory of Dan Little.
  • The Melton and Honings families, in memory of Mary Melton.
  • The Melton and Honings families, in memory of Joe and Eunice Melton.
  • The Melton and Honings families, in memory of Ralph and Isabel Moughamian Andrews.
  • The Melton and Honings families, in memory of Charles and Marian Honings.
  • The family of Beverly and Charles Pflugrath, in memory of Charles Pflugrath.
  • Barb Satterwhite, in memory of Don Satterwhite.
  • Barb Satterwhite, in memory of Mary Melton.
  • Linda Southworth, in memory of Clyde and Annie Southworth.
  • Donna and Jim Soyars, in memory of Troy and Polly Forsyth.
  • Donna and Jim Soyars, in memory of Bill and Tom Soyars.
  • The Walters Family, in memory of Mr. and Mrs. Elgin Lowe, Sr.
  • The Walters Family, in memory of Mr. Chester Walters.
  • The Walters Family, in memory of Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Henderson, Sr.
  • The Walters Family, in memory of Mr. Alfred Henderson, Jr.
  • Bill Welstead, in memory of Woody Jenkins
  • Bill Welstead, in memory of Jean Finley

In Honor of

  • The Corbitt Family, in honor of Ron Simmons.
  • Anita McCarty, in honor of Maya in her senior year.
  • Marty Watkin and John Gass, in honor of Dr. Bill Welstead and Gail Welstead.
  • Marty Watkin and John Gass, in honor of Bill and Brenda Gradwell.
  • Bill Welstead, in honor of Penny Jenkins.
  • Bill Welstead, in honor of Bill Finley.
  • Bill Welstead, in honor of Judy Fiske.
  • Bill Welstead in honor of April Kennedy.

Memorial Service: Woody Jenkins

Lynwood “Woody” Bruce Jenkins died peacefully after a day surrounded by family and friends in his home in Powhatan, Virginia on October 11th following a 10-month battle with cancer. He leaves behind his loving wife of 44 years, Virginia “Penny”.

Woody embarked on a life of service working as a house parent to underprivileged youth in Baltimore, MD. He went on to work as integration coordinator for Morgan State University, afterwards serving as a Human Resources director in life care facilities in the Baltimore and Philadelphia areas. When he returned to Virginia, he became a real estate broker at Lake Anna. After a near-fatal automobile accident, Woody responded to his original calling to become a pastor, entering seminary at age 56 and earning Master of Divinity and Doctor of Ministry degrees. He served at Southampton Baptist Church in South Richmond and Elk Creek Baptist Church in Mineral, VA until he retired. In between pastorates, he worked in the development office at Baptist Theological Seminary of Richmond.

When not at work, he was involved in helping family, friends, and community with whatever needed fixing. He helped coach his sons’ baseball teams and cheered loudly at his grandsons’ various games. He was the first President of Chesapeake Habitat for Humanity in Baltimore and Executive Director of the Greater Philadelphia Habitat for Humanity and finally served Habitat with his wife as volunteer Mid-Atlantic Regional Directors approving new projects in five states, including Richmond HFH as well. He went on mission trips to Slovakia, Panama, and Brazil. He helped to establish the Rural Institute for Theological Education in the Goshen Baptist Association to provide undergraduate studies for adults in rural counties with many students going on to pursue seminary degrees. He joined the Goochland County Fire and Rescue Department in 2002, primarily driving an ambulance for many years. Woody soon saw the need for chaplaincy services for patients, families, and even the FEMS staff themselves, and that came to fruition for FEMS and the Sheriff’s department.

Woody was predeceased by his parents, Hugh E. and Hattie C. Jenkins, his half-brother, Harold Stoneburger, and his brother, Robert. In addition to Penny, he also leaves his sister, Mary Kathryn Richardson, and brother, James Jenkins (Joyce), his first wife, Nancy Jenkins, and also his son, David, and step-children, Laurel Nelson (Brooks), Ronald Mattson (Pamela), and Michael Mattson (Rebecca), and his grandchildren, Syd (Katie), Matthew, James, Simon, and Reid. He also leaves Hung Pham, Brian Roskow, and Brian Giesler who each lived in his and Penny’s home as young men.

Among his many joys were hunting, fishing, traveling the open road in his RV, and loving on his many dogs over the years, so we add Bodie and Kylie, the last of the pack.

A celebration of life is planned for Monday, November 24 at 11 a.m. at Tabernacle Baptist Church, 1925 Grove Ave., Richmond, VA 23220 followed by a time of fellowship with the family. The service will be available on Live-stream. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in his memory to Tabernacle Baptist Church Endowment Fund or Richmond SPCA.

The Gift of Participatory Worship

This past weekend was a gift.

On Saturday, we gathered for April’s ordination. It was a beautiful, Spirit-filled celebration, with a rich mix of people from our church family, our neighborhood, and others who have walked with April in different seasons of her life. The same was true on Sunday, as we gathered to celebrate Adah’s baptism, her public profession of faith. In both services, the presence of many voices leading us in worship reflected the kind of community we are becoming, one where worship is shared, personal, and rooted in the movement of God among us.

One of our core values as a church is worship.

“WORSHIP: We strive to be a congregation rooted in the participatory worship of God, where personal relationships are nurtured and all persons are encouraged to creatively and meaningfully express their unique gifts and stories in the worship experience”

This has been true of Tabernacle for many seasons, and we give thanks for all the ways that value has been faithfully lived out across the years.

What makes this particular season distinct is the way we are now structuring worship services around those who have already said yes to leading. Rather than designing a service and then inviting individuals to fill specific roles, we are beginning with the people and gifts God has already stirred. This approach allows us to invest our time in walking closely with those who step forward, helping them feel prepared and supported. Our hope is that every person who participates in leading worship will come away feeling grateful they said yes.

Since June, it has been beautiful to see people of all ages and backgrounds come forward to read scripture, lead prayers, serve Communion, and share their gifts. Of course, the rhythm is still uneven. Some Sundays are full, others more sparse. That is to be expected as we learn and grow. We are leaning on one another. We are leaning on you. Leaders in the life of the church are reaching out within their small groups, classes, and teams to encourage others to participate. And many are going one step further by inviting someone personally.

Adults are inviting youth and children to lead alongside them. Adults are inviting other adults. That kind of shared experience is not just helpful for worship planning. It is a form of discipleship. It strengthens our relationships and deepens our faith. When we lead together, we grow together.

We give thanks for April and for Adah. We give thanks for the God who is shaping all of us in and through worship. And we give thanks for the many people who are saying yes to helping lead us week after week.

If you are drawn to our shared value of participatory worship and feel ready to step in, we invite you to sign up here: https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/3Q2Z5Z9

If you are still discerning, we honor that too. Together, we are learning how to follow Christ more faithfully by showing up, stepping in, and offering our gifts in the ways God is calling us!

Gratefully Yours,

Rev. Sterling W. Severns

Pastor

When the Door Doesn’t Budge

When the Door Doesn’t Budge
By Rev. Sterling Severns, Pastor

Life has a way of surprising us with change. One day everything feels familiar, and the next we’re in territory that’s suddenly unrecognizable. It might be a diagnosis we never expected, the loss of a job we thought was secure, or a shift in a relationship we counted on. Or it might be more subtle—realizing that something which once made perfect sense no longer feels like it fits. Moments like these can freeze us in place. We don’t know how to move forward, and we can’t go back. So we wait. And wonder. And wrestle with the weight of it all.

In my own experience, there have been more than a few seasons like this—times when the path ahead felt uncertain, and the world around me felt both familiar and foreign. Everything on the outside may have looked the same, but something inside had shifted. And without exception, each time, it’s taken its toll. The waiting. The weariness. The wondering if anything is actually changing at all. There’s a deep vulnerability in those moments, especially when we’ve asked God for help, when we’ve prayed for direction, healing, peace. We show up to our lives the best we can. Still trying. Still hoping. Still doing our thing. But the silence lingers, and the door we’ve been knocking on stays shut.

The longer we walk in faith, the more we come to see the real change comes not when the door swings open, but when something inside us opens instead. Not suddenly, not dramatically, but slowly, quietly, over time. God doesn’t always remove the stuckness, but God meets us in it, reshaping our hearts, softening the places that have grown hard with fear or frustration. Sometimes, when the exhaustion finally gives way to surrender, we discover that the door was never locked after all. We were just too weary to see how close we already were to grace. We lean against it for support, and somehow, we find ourselves on the other side.

God doesn’t wait for us beyond the threshold. God is with us in the hallway, in the waiting, in the ache. In the quiet work of transformation that begins long before the breakthrough. That is the mystery and mercy of the God who answers, not always by changing our circumstances, but by being unshakably present within them.

So wherever you find yourself this week, whether you’re waiting for the door to open, or wondering if it ever will, may you know you are not alone. May you be reminded that presence itself is a gift, that transformation often begins before we even recognize it, and that grace has a way of meeting us right where we are.

When We Gather

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

Pastoral Reflection: Grace at the Start


Rev. Sterling W. Severns, Pastor

This past Sunday, we chose to begin worship at the table. Before prayers or offerings, before much else was said or sung, we paused to share Communion—passing trays from one to another, serving and being served, bread and cup in our hands.

It wasn’t about earning anything, or proving ourselves ready. It was about acknowledging something true before anything else: that grace is given. That God provides. That all of us come hungry in one way or another.

In these tender and challenging days, when so many questions swirl about what comes next, there is something quietly powerful about starting there. To recognize that whatever happens begins not with our certainty or our planning, but with God’s own generosity. That nothing we’re about to do—our singing, our praying, our listening, our giving—creates grace. It simply responds to it.

Passing the bread and cup among us reminded us of our shared dependence. It was a small act of trust: receiving what someone else handed us, offering it in turn. A way of saying we cannot provide for ourselves alone. That God is always the one who moves first, offering what we cannot make ourselves.

For those who would like to reflect more on why this small shift in the order of worship can matter so much, I want to share this thoughtful piece that speaks to it beautifully: Grace at the Start: How Moving Communion Changes Everything.

I keep thinking of these words from Rachel Held Evans that many of us have carried with us:

“This is what God’s kingdom is like: a bunch of outcasts and oddballs gathered at a table, not because they are rich or good, but because they are hungry, because they said yes.”

Rachel Held Evans, Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church

It’s an image worth holding onto.

Because whatever questions we’re asking about the future, whatever uncertainties wait for us beyond the doors of this sanctuary, we begin by acknowledging the grace already given.

And in serving and being served, we remember who we are.

People who are hungry. People who say yes.

People who find, again and again, that God meets us at the table.

Pastoral Reflection: No Turning Back

Sterling Severns

“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

– Annie Dillard

No Turning Back

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.

Looking Ahead

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

Thank you!


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

Pastoral Reflection: A Moment Worth Holding

“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.

Honoring Judy

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.

A Request for Prayer

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