Did any of you see any foxes this morning?
I was hoping, being out here in the country, we might catch a glimpse of a fox or two.
The reason for that is that your rector has asked me to offer a kind of memoir this morning and my first memory of Zion Church is that of foxes.
My parents and I usually sat in a pew just out from under the gallery on the Gospel side of the nave and in front of us regularly sat three elderly women, each with her shoulders draped in a fox stole—you know, the kind where the fox is biting its own tail. I remember looking long and hard into the eyes of those foxes as Mr. Hauser preached what were no doubt marvelous sermons.
Thinking back on those years in Zion, I can share with you this morning on this historic occasion an unusual perspective for a sermon, my own personal reflections, a little something of what Zion was like 50-60 years ago through the eyes of one young boy.
At the Ruins of St. George’s Chapel (Norborne Parish, 1771)
On the Occasion of the Bicentennial Celebration of the Founding of Zion Episcopal Church (St. Andrew’s Parish, 1815)