Let us pray.       O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were being cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

On the day I was ordained a priest, my Bishop prayed the above prayer, the Collect for Ordination, and placed me in a role I had been preparing for all my life, but in honesty a role that I could at that time hardly understand.  He said: "You are to love and serve the people among whom you work, caring alike for young and old, strong and weak, rich and poor. You are to preach, to declare God's forgiveness to penitent sinners, to pronounce God's blessing, to share in the administration of Holy Baptism and in the celebration of the mysteries of Christ's Body and Blood ..." Then, the Bishop laid his hands on my head and said: "Make her a faithful pastor, a patient teacher, and a wise councilor."  With a loud "Amen" from the congregation, I had become a priest.

It's that gathering that I think of each time I hear the words that begin the 12th chapter of the Book of Hebrews, saying "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, ... let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us ..." And it was that "great cloud of witnesses" that came to mind again in writing my fourth Rector's Annual Report since coming to St. Thomas' Parish on All Saints' Day 2004.

 When I think of the "great cloud of witnesses" this year, I think of Peter Bocock and Ron Brazier, and before them Sister Mariah and Jim Brandon, and Dick Johnson and Rachel Keynton, whose prayers and presence in our past still frame us and make us who we are.  There are others we miss this morning, too, who have moved hundreds of miles away from DC or just across town. In the missing of them, I am as thankful for their gifts to St. Thomas' in the past as I am for yours in the present.

Every Rector's Annual Report is an act of humility, for the time has passed so quickly since our founding as The Church of the Messiah, when Church Street was still called Madison Avenue.   As a parish we've survived a depression, social and civil unrest, riots, times of prosperity, arson, financial and membership decline and renewal. And seven other rectors before me have said to their Bishops who ordained them that they would be a "faithful pastor, a patient teacher, and a wise councilor" - and I have no doubt that is what they lived to be.  And now as your eighth rector I realize that none of us could have imagined when we first became your Rector how hard it would be, and yet how satisfying, to try to "love and serve the people among whom we were to work, caring alike for young and old, strong and weak, rich and poor - preaching, declaring God's forgiveness, pronouncing God's blessing, sharing in Baptizing and celebrating the mysteries of Christ's Body and Blood."

I also believe that the "great cloud of witnesses" that bore me to this place runs at least all the way back 3800 years to Abraham and Sarah, Isaac, Rebecca and Jacob. When you read their stories in the Hebrew scriptures, you find they consistently had their eyes on the future, never concerned just with the present but also with generations yet unborn.  These future saints are the ones that George Herbert, the great 16^th century Anglican pastor, had in mind when he wrote of wanting "a mark to aim at: which also I will set as high as I can, since someone shoots higher that threatens the moon, than someone who aims at a tree."

 These last three years and four months as your Rector seem at times to have been a long, long time, and at other times to have just begun.  There is a story about a catastrophic accident, when a turtle ran over a snail; and when the turtle stood before the judge, she said, "Tell me what happened"...and the turtle said, "It happened so fast I don't even remember."

It happened so fast I don't even remember how we have gotten to the unprecedented point in 2007 of an average Sunday worship attendance of 139. After all, our fire code limit is 150, and we can seat just 126 people in the congregation, the other seats being for the choir.