Tim

Fried Chicken, potato salad, lima beans, black-eyed peas, green beans, sliced ham, homemade biscuits, banana pudding, and tables full of special dishes and desserts on a warm spring afternoon would sometimes greet us after service at First Baptist Church where I grew up. At least once a year we would have a pot luck to gather and enjoy a cup of sweet iced tea and community. To break the bread and come to the table in a different way. These are the memories I have with a church family. To be a part of something bigger than myself and be comfortable in my own skin.

St Martin in the Fields provided that church community for me when I joined in 1998. This is a place where a hug and a firm handshake is the norm and people are genuine and truly care about one another. Worship is more personal and less vulnerable. It allowed me to have the courage to ask the hard questions about faith and be receptive to fresh and contrary ideas. My first experience of getting involved here was a Sunday morning when I had just gotten to church and we were short of ushers. Fr. Remer walked in, saw the problem, looked right at me and said, “You’re ushering today”. From my ushering days, to singing in the choir, teaching Sunday School Classes, being a Vestry member, participating and organizing the Chili Cookoff, Shrove Tuesday pancake flipping, and leading the infamous Turkey Fry, this place has fed my soul. It is my church home where I treasure being a family member and offering others a seat at the table.