In what is unarguably one of the most historic and influential towns in America (a nod to St. Augustine, and note that Philly’s a city!), the craft of narrating our history is daily work. We took a run at that ourselves three years ago, in fact - when WUMC chronicled the inception of the people called Methodist here in Williamsburg. We commemorated the 250th anniversary of our movement’s official arrival, when a lay missionary named Joseph Pilmore, sent by John Wesley from England, landed at Jamestown and made his way down Jamestown Road to preach on the Capitol green.
Since that time, the people of Williamsburg United Methodist Church (called by different names at different times, but always Methodist!) have dedicated themselves to the proclamation of the coming Kingdom of God, by word and deed. We’ve been adaptive in serving that mission: We first gathered in a horse barn, then a building that also served as a coffin shop, and then two brick buildings that have since been razed by Colonial Williamsburg. Then in 1962, the congregation of about 200 active members made a decision that seemed preposterously bold: to trade their building and spot of land for a new campus - “way down Jamestown Road.”
The steeple was purported to be the highest point in all Williamsburg at the time. The new sanctuary, opened for Easter 1963, sat 660 people – and was the very first air-conditioned house of worship in town.
The building’s been expanded, repaired, adapted, and repaired again since then. But the real story has been the redemptive web of relationships that has blessed tens of thousands. People within these walls have wept for joy and for grief, worked for justice, and hoped to see God. We’ve weathered wars, storms, seasons of political tumult and (several) pandemics. I cannot even conceive the millions of hours lavished by our disciples on the care and nurture of children, the feeding of neighbors, the sheltering of the vulnerable, and the worship of God.
But I sure do know what these look like. As we pass the midpoint of our third century as a church family, I give thanks for all that sacrifice, all those shared dreams and hopes that turned a group of hardworking people into a community, and for the Spirit of God Who made us a people of one Lord, one faith, one Baptism (Eph. 4:5).
Now it is our time to make a sacrifice, an investment in the future ministries of our faith community in Williamsburg. Yes, it is on a very different scale than buying that horse barn, but the courage and the hope we can sure recognize. To God be the glory.
~ Dave Rochford
