The Gift of Shared Ministry

A Sermon for the Celebration of a New Ministry
Holy Nativity Episcopal Church
Panama City, Florida
Wednesday, August 20, 2025

Texts: Psalm 100 and John 15:9-11

Now, O Lord, take my lips, and speak through them. Take our minds, and think through them. Take our hearts, and set them on fire. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Good evening! My name is Eric Mancil, and I serve as rector of St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Andalusia, Alabama. I bring you greetings tonight from the people of St. Mary’s and from the northern half of our diocese.

It is a joy and a blessing to be with you on this special occasion.

And let me begin by saying thank you.

Thank you, Forbes, for inviting me to preach tonight, and thank you all for allowing me to be part of this celebration.

It’s always a joy to gather for moments like this—moments that remind us that God is still moving in the life of our Church. The Spirit is still calling, still sending, still shaping us into something new.

When Forbes called me a few weeks ago to invite me to preach tonight, I was truly honored.

And one of the first questions I asked him was, “Which lessons are you planning to use for the service?”

He said he’d need a couple of days to decide, but he already knew one for sure, and that was Psalm 100.

Now, Psalm 100 isn’t one we usually hear at the Celebration of a New Ministry, so I asked him why he chose it.

He told me it’s been deeply meaningful in his own prayer life—and it’s the same scripture he shared with you in his letter when he accepted your call as rector.

And I have to say, I think it’s a beautiful choice.

Psalm 100 is a song of joy and thanksgiving, a reminder that God is faithful and good.

It opens with those familiar words:

“Be joyful in the LORD, all you lands; serve the LORD with gladness and come before his presence with a song.”

What better way to begin a new season of ministry together than with that invitation—to be people of joy, gratitude, and praise?

And that same spirit of joy and gratitude flows directly into our Gospel reading for tonight.

In John’s Gospel, Jesus is gathered with his disciples in the Upper Room on the night before his crucifixion.

He has just washed their feet, shared bread and wine, and is preparing them for what is about to happen.

These are his final words to the friends he has walked with for the past three years—his last chance to teach them what matters most.

And what does he say?

“As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.”

Notice the connection between these two passages.

Psalm 100 invites us to be joyful—to enter God’s presence with gladness and thanksgiving.

In the Gospel, Jesus invites us to abide in his love so that our joy may be complete.

Together, these lessons remind us that true joy doesn’t depend on what’s happening around us.

It doesn’t depend on our circumstances.

True joy comes from knowing that God is with us and that we are held in his love.

It comes from knowing that we are following the way of Jesus, which is the way of love.

The joy we hear in tonight’s readings is deeply connected to the work of ministry—which makes it especially fitting for this night, as we celebrate the beginning of something new here at Holy Nativity.

And I don’t just mean Forbes’s ministry. I mean your ministry—the ministry you’re called to share with him, and with one another

Ministry isn’t something we do alone.

It’s a journey we walk together.

I was reminded of this early on in my vocation as a priest.

Several years ago, when I was still a “baby priest” and shortly before I accepted my first call in the Diocese of Alabama, I was invited to visit with Bishop Kee Sloan in his office in downtown Birmingham.

You see, in our church, the bishop has the final say in whether a candidate for rector may serve at a parish.

So this visit was part conversation, part discernment, and—I suspect—to make sure I wasn’t going to do anything too crazy!

Early in our conversation, Bishop Kee said something that has stayed with me ever since and has guided me in my life as a priest and pastor.

In his quiet, gentle way—the way he speaks that makes every word feel important—Bishop Kee said, “We are a relational diocese.”

What he meant was that this diocese values relationships and practices genuine hospitality.

Whoever you are, wherever you come from, you are welcomed—and you are called to walk alongside others in ministry, not alone.

Hearing that then, I thought to myself, “Yes, this is exactly why I want to be here!”

This is the diocese that welcomed me into the Episcopal Church, that supported campus ministry and young adult ministry—ministries that shaped my life profoundly and led me to discern a call to the priesthood.

And in that moment with Bishop Kee, I realized something important: ministry is more than just friendship.

It is companionship—it’s walking together, growing together, supporting each other, and sharing the work and the joys of God’s call.

I was reminded of this again last summer, when Forbes and I traveled to Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, New Mexico, for a preaching conference—a place that feels like it’s literally in the middle of nowhere.

During periods of free time, we had the opportunity to explore the area, and one afternoon we decided to visit the Monastery of Christ in the Desert—a Benedictine monastery just a few miles from the ranch.

The funny thing is, even though the monastery was only a few miles away, it took us almost an hour to get there because we had to drive so slowly.

The road twisted and turned, and parts of it were only wide enough for one vehicle to pass through.

The monastery itself was stunning, set against the red desert mountains and wide, open sky.

But, what I remember most about that trip wasn’t the chapel or the grounds or the gift shop (you know every monastery has to have a gift shop).

It was our journey there—driving through the desert, stopping to take in the beautiful landscapes, sharing stories about our hopes and struggles in ministry.

Those hours in the car gave me the chance to really get to know Forbes—his heart for ministry, his insights, and his care for people—and to share my own experience with him.

Visiting the monastery was certainly worth the time, but what made the trip memorable was the companionship—the laughter, the conversation, the shared stories along the way.

That’s what ministry is all about.

It’s never a solo act.

It’s a shared journey, and the road becomes joyful when we walk it together.

Which brings me to something important I want to share with you tonight.

You know…as a guest preacher, I have a little bit of a special privilege. I get to come in, speak what’s on my heart, and then drive back home.

That also means I get to say some things that your priest might not feel comfortable sharing, especially when he’s only been here a few months.

So here’s the truth I want you to hear—and I want you to let it sink in for a moment: Forbes cannot do this ministry alone.

He’s a talented priest, and he’ll serve you well.

But, he’s going to need your help—your prayers, your gifts, your time, your presence, and—most importantly—your love.

It can be tempting, especially when a new priest arrives, to think: “Father is finally here! Hallelujah! Now he can take over everything. He’ll fix all the problems, lead all the programs, carry the load we’ve been carrying.”

But friends, trust me when I say this. That is a heavy burden for any priest to carry. I say that from personal experience.

No one can carry the full weight of a parish alone without growing weary, discouraged, or even burned out.

So, I’ll say it again:

Ministry is meant to be shared.

When you walk alongside Forbes, sharing both the work and the joys of this parish, you’re not just supporting him—you’re stepping into the joy Jesus promises, the deep joy that comes from living, serving, and growing together in God’s love.

If you remember nothing else, remember this: the life of a parish does not rest on the shoulders of one person.

It flourishes when the whole community comes together, each offering what God has given, each supporting one another in love and faithfulness.

You’ve called a wonderful priest in Forbes, and my prayer for you is that this relationship will last for many years to come.

So, in the words of Bishop Kee, who once preached at my Celebration of a New Ministry, “Don’t mess it up.”

Forbes is faithful and devoted, but he will need your partnership—not just your applause, your gratitude, or your presence in worship—but your active involvement in the life of this parish.

Ministry is not just his work—it’s yours too.

And as you walk this road together—Forbes with you, and you with him—may you experience the joy that both the psalmist and Jesus speak of: the joy of belonging to God, the joy of abiding in Christ’s love, and the joy of walking together as companions along the way.

Amen.