Church of Our Savior

A Community Church in the Anglican Tradition

A new church is born! Where once there were two churches there now is one. Calvary Church and Resurrection Church have come together as one new church for the sake of reaching our community with the love of Jesus Christ. As a new church we have a new name, Church of Our Savior, which communicates our desire to share the grace and mercy of our Savior Jesus Christ with the Beaches and Intracoastal communities.

While much is new, we remain committed to serving our community and celebrating our Anglican heritage. We believe that living out our faith in the world means serving other people. Our work with Neptune Beach Elementary School, Mission House, prison outreach and BEAM will continue, and we look forward to finding new and meaningful ways of reaching out to the Beaches and Intracoastal regions. We are an Anglican Church and as such we will continue to celebrate our Anglican heritage through our connection to the world wide Anglican Communion and our distinct style of worship.

Our Savior has declared, "Behold, I am making all things new," and our community of faith celebrates this new work that the Lord is doing in our midst. We invite all to come and share with us in the mercy and love of God as we begin worshiping together, Sunday, May 26, at the newly renovated "Beaches Museum Chapel," located on the campus of the Beaches Area Historical Society at 505 Beach Blvd in Jacksonville Beach. 

The Bare Branch

A year of grieving loss is about to close for our family. We sat beside two dying loved ones a year ago this summer. First was my husband's mother, and then my sister. Both times we wondered what each woman knew, or remembered, of spiritual realities.

Every death serves as a reminder of our own mortality. As we watched and waited, twice, I thought of the teasing request I had once made of my children. Among life's sweetest treasures to me are the rare occasions when they are together, making music. I once made them promise to sing me out if they got the chance. The memory prompted the following reassurance:

Know That I Know

When it's my turn

Like the flowers by her bed

To fade

To shrink

To leave just the stark and shriveled stalk

All the rich wonder of the colors gone

Know that I know

Know that I know

That fear lies

And the truth is in the trees

Though the branch is stripped

By winter gripped

Still death is a deceit

Radiant green will yet burst forth

And sing praise to the loving hand

Of its maker

Know that I know

Know that I know

That through the mercy of another tree

My sins and sorrows will fall like leaves in winter

Gone forever

Then all that was promised

All that was best

Will bud and never fall

Will celebrate

And wait for you

Know that I know

Know that I know

But even so

Sing me your gentle reminder

The Mexican migrant workers who work at a local seafood processing plant on the Mississippi Gulf coast have been on my mind and heart since the BP Oil Spill of April 2010. That incident had put the company and their jobs in jeopardy, as we learned through some discussions with them at the time because I am Hispanic and bilingual and was able to interpret.

This is a large seafood plant for oyster fishermen right here in our area. About 90% of its employees are migrants from Mexico. The migrants are 98% male. They come in two groups from Mexico. 

The men live and work here for 10 months and then return home to Mexico. They leave their families, wife and children for all of those months and do not return home for visits or have vacations. They are here for the duration of their contract. They live in a designated trailer park and stay to themselves. 

Over the past year, as I completed seminary, I prayed and discerned that I could take an action step in the mission field of the Hispanic community.

The week before Palm Sunday, I mustered up my courage and went to meet with the owners of the cannery and chatted with them about my going in and providing pastoral care.

As we talked, the owners also told me that a couple of years ago a priest would come by every so often and do things like impose ashes on Ash Wednesday. The priest was transferred and since then all of these migrant workers have not had any spiritual, worship, or pastoral care.

My heart jumped for joy at this great opportunity! With that in mind, we proposed to provide palms for Palm Sunday and God willing.... Holy Week services to them.

The question of location came up. After asking the men, they decided they'd prefer it if we came out to the trailer park where they live instead of doing church at the worksite.

I. Palm Sunday was like....a scene from the passage of the fishes and loaves on the hillside.

For our first worship service at the small, and very rural, trailer park, we used a folding table and made an altar in the middle of a field. We had palms in a basket for everyone.

As we set up the altar, about 5 men came and chatted. I asked for a volunteer to help me read the very long Passion Gospel and a young man volunteered. His name is Jose.

When we started the service, there were maybe 10 men. Everyone was standing because there were no chairs...just grass.

As Jose and I read through the Gospel, every time I'd look up...there were more men standing in the grass. First, about 10, then about 15, then more...and more and more..And then a few couples....and they just kept coming. They stood for the entire service.

We distributed palm crosses to the congregation and after Communion, I asked anyone who wanted me to pray for them to line up and to come up one by one. They stood in line, came up, told me their names and what I could pray for. (Most prayers were for their children still in Mexico, their ailing relatives, and for their jobs) Then I anointed each man and gave him a blessing.

 They just kept coming up...and coming up. When it was over, Fr. Warren said he counted 55 folks!!!!!

As the men came up, one man came up with his head shaved and wearing a t-shirt which designated a gang. He had his arms folded and a stern grimace. I asked his name and he said, "Hector". As soon as he did, I started crying and told him that was my dad's name. Then he started crying. We prayed and I blessed and anointed him.

Perhaps the real highlight for me was that they asked us to come back for Easter Sunday.

II. Easter Sunday turned out to be a challenge.

A massive storm front started moving through about the time we started Mass-in-the-grass; in fact, we never made it to Communion. So, with a distribution of some Easter gifts and a final benediction to the 20 or so assembled in the rain. I was very disheartened, but the men just stood in rain until finally we called it a day because there was no shelter whatsoever.

As we were packing up the car to leave, Jose [my reader from Palm Sunday] told me two interesting things: he had studied theology in Mexico and he thought many in their group would rather come to our church building for Mass than fight the weather in the trailer park. That was music to our ears because we were so disheartened by the rain and how to proceed.

III. On the Second Sunday of Easter, we held Mass for the workers in our church building in Long Beach, Mississippi.

We had the complete liturgy in Spanish printed for them in booklets. Jose agreed to read the Epistle reading; we said the General Confession and then Communion.

This (see photo) was our congregation after Mass. We thanked them for being with us and we told them they were a blessing to us. I told them that my hope was that we could continue to pray and worship together. Jose [far left] is also interested in starting some type of a bible study for the group.

Many of the men in the picture had worked all day on Sunday (7^th day in a row) before traveling all the way back to the trailer park, cleaning up and then coming to church. The rest of the men were still toiling away at the processing plant.

The passion to worship and to fellowship has been a powerful thing for us to witness.My heart is bursting as I find myself wondering just how all of this happened. But then I do know how....His name is Jesus....and ALL things are possible with God! Amen.