On June 29, 2025, the people of St. Peter’s in Bainbridge gathered to celebrate 200 years of love and service! Bishop DeDe Duncan-Probe gave the sermon honoring the commitment of the people of St. Peter’s. Here is a recording of her sermon and full transcript.
Come, Holy Spirit, and speak to us. Give us ears to hear you and courageous hearts to respond. Amen.
Please be seated
What a joyous occasion. 200 years! People have come here to worship and to seek Jesus, to be inspired and to be challenged, to work together—committee meetings, parish meetings, dinners, service, reaching out, helping feed people, clothe people, walk with people, bury people, marry people, baptize people. That’s a lot—and it’s wonderful, isn’t it?
To think of the legacy that we have here of 200 years. I was struck—Becky and I were chatting about the history. I was very taken by the fact that the Lenape were here in the 1600s and 1700s, then displaced in 1720. The Haudenosaunee were here. And then the Vermont Sufferers came in.
Europeans took over, as we know. And so this land, and then with slavery—there’s been so much taking over and moving out. In the midst of the faithfulness of the church, there are also these histories of people being challenged and harmed. Our legacy isn’t easy—and it is joyous at the same time. There are things in years past where people needed to repent or change their minds. And here we are today in the same space—failed, imperfect people trying to seek Jesus and fulfill God’s promise and hope for our world. Holding before God our own brokenness, our own challenge, and our hope for the future.
I would be remiss not to bring into this legacy the sense of people who are yet to come.
Throughout the last 200 years, there have been many times when people wondered if this church would survive. Buildings burning. People moving. Downturns. All the things that happen in the vicissitudes of life. But this is an opportunity to recognize what George Santayana said in The Life of Reason (1905): “Those who do not learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.”
So today, as we receive the legacy of the past and think of all the people who have called this place home—as we think of Commodore, and all the people who lent their names to your town and to the streets—this place called Bainbridge, once Jericho—we too have come to this space to follow Jesus, to feed people, marry people, and walk with people in their lives.
As we look at this gospel today and these readings, we are invited to see our lives as an offering, much like those who have gone before. An offering in which we hold before God our days and our time. With our time, we are building a legacy that will live on.
When we become disheartened and wonder about the future, we remember that the church is about following God’s Spirit—not about being perfect. The church is about repenting—literally changing our minds—not about doing everything flawlessly.
In this time, our world is struggling. Wars rage. Dehumanization is rampant. Our LGBTQ+ siblings need our care, concern, activism, and prayers. Refugees in our diocese are struggling. And we, as the Diocese of Central New York, have a calling to walk with, help, and nurture people. That is part of the legacy we’ve inherited and part of the legacy we hope to leave behind.
There will be people in the future—at the 250th, 300th, or 400th anniversary—who talk about your ministries, your service in this space, and how you added to this building. Maybe we don’t know what the future holds, but our offering today is to hold it before God’s care and do our part.
This is our turn.
In the same way that faithful people of the past overcame fires and hardship to come together in community—to pray, to worship, to know that God is alive in our midst—we do the same today.
Whenever I think of a 200th anniversary, I think of Eucharistic theology. Specifically, anamnesis—a sacred Jewish understanding of remembrance. It teaches us that when we remember, we join with those of the past, and they join with us. All together, time collapses, like in one of those movies where generations flash forward and backward through the same space.
We are part of a sacred remembering. We become part of God’s never-ending hymnody of love, mercy, and grace.
Our calling is to proclaim Jesus.
And how do we do that?
By being who we are and offering ourselves to God.
By using our gifts and talents to serve our community of faith.
Sometimes, people come up to me and say, “You know what you need to do? You need to do such and such.” And I’ll respond—sometimes not so popularly—“I think that’s your calling. Because I wasn’t even aware that need existed.”
If something is nagging at you—if you’ve thought, “I wish our church did this…”—talk with Becky, the wardens, the leadership. Maybe God is calling us to something we’ve never dreamed of, and it’s exactly what this area needs.
We can get so caught up in the issues of the world (and we should care about those), but sometimes we miss what we could do right here in our own backyard. To bring help, healing, hope, and resurrection to this community.
A legacy is a cherished thing. People before us made it possible through sacrificial giving—of time, talent, treasure, generosity, kindness, and sometimes shrewdness.
What are God’s dreams for this place?
How is God calling us to be church now?
I read your website and was struck by your mission: to proclaim the good news of the kingdom.
That means you, tomorrow and the next day—wherever you find yourself—being that person who speaks a word of encouragement.
Being that person who refuses to dwell in hatred.
Who forgives.
Who humanizes, rather than dehumanizes.
To teach, baptize, and nurture believers means we’ll have to talk about our faith.
When’s the last time you told someone, “Here’s why I go to church…”?
It’s not because you had nothing better to do.
It’s because the Holy Spirit moved in your life.
For those online, the same Spirit has moved in your life too.
The Holy Spirit has moved among us with an invitation to something greater than we can know. To a legacy that is timeless—with no beginning and no end. An eternal hymn of love that creates community. A kindom of God that calls all of us to be part of it and to believe.
And if you’ve thought, “I should really read scripture more,” then take today’s readings and sit with them tomorrow, Tuesday, Wednesday. Let them be a first step. Let the Word of God—Jesus himself—penetrate your life.
Believing means doing.
So we go out these doors to serve.
To offer.
To listen.
To give.
To seek.
To transform unjust structures of society.
To challenge violence of every kind.
To pursue peace and reconciliation.
We’re good at fighting.
We’re not so great at forgiving.
We’re good at taking sides.
Not so great at finding common ground.
It’s not about left or right.
It’s about Jesus in the center.
To strive to safeguard creation and renew the life of the earth—some will say, “I don’t believe in climate change.” Fine.
But we believe in a Creator God.
So we act responsibly, love our neighbor, and care for the world entrusted to us—because we love Jesus.
On this day of looking back with gratitude, let us also look forward with purpose.
What are we offering to those who will come after us?
How will our legacy allow someone else to know the love of Jesus?
Happy 200th Anniversary.
And I look forward to the next.
Amen.
