Welcome
Each week one of our pastors or staff members writes a column observing what is going on in our congregation, the Church and the world, and offering reflections on the Christian life and faith. Through this series of columns, we hope to connect your and our story to the enduring story of Christ; to offer pastoral reflections on our ongoing congregational life and mission; to report on news of the Presbyterian Church and Church universal; and to invite further reflection and deeper discipleship. We welcome your comments and suggestions. In other words, our words here are an invitation to continue the conversation.
Those who live at earth’s farthest bounds are awed by your signs; you make the gateways of the morning and the evening shout for joy. Psalm 65:8, NRSV
I recently came across a lovely contemporary translation of this verse from Eugene Peterson’s The Message, which reads, "Far and wide they’ll come to a stop, they’ll stare in awe, in wonder. Dawn and dusk take turns calling, 'Come and worship.'"
We are all likely aware that beloved Children’s television pioneer Fred Rogers was actually a Presbyterian pastor. Ordained to his television “ministry” in 1963, he was not just a national television personality but also a local celebrity in Presbyterian circles in Pittsburgh, where I grew up. What you may not be aware of is that today, March 20, is Mr. Rogers Day—or technically, “Won’t You Be My Neighbor” Day.
Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood was such a significant soundtrack in the background of my growing up in Pittsburgh that a childhood friend of mine (who himself also became a Presbyterian pastor) used to joke around with me long into our late teens by singing one of Fred’s many songs of affirmation when I was feeling low:
It’s you I like,
It’s not the things you wear,
It’s not the way you do your hair,
But it’s you I like.
The way you are right now,
The way down deep inside you.
Not the things that hide you,
Not your toys,
They’re just beside you.
But it’s you I like.
Every part of you.
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings
Whether old or new.
I hope that you’ll remember,
Even when you’re feeling blue.
That it’s you I like,
It’s you yourself
It’s you.
It’s you I like.
While it strikes all the right cords of nostalgic sentimentality in me to remember Fred Rogers each year in March, it is more important to recognize a day deeply rooted in his incredibly faithful ministry of welcoming and being a neighbor.
This Sunday, as we continue in our Lenten series in the parables, we will reflect on one of the most iconic in all of scripture – The Good Samaritan. It is essential when we read this ancient story of a man left alone and vulnerable, rescued and restored by an outsider, that Jesus told this story in response to a question that we are called to ask every day – Who is my neighbor?
In this particular moment in our community and nation, we need to be asking this question even more intentionally—asking it of ourselves and our local community, our national leaders, our faith leaders, and even the people with whom we disagree.
The most essential element of how we are called to live our Christian faith is not how we care for ourselves or our family but how we care for the most vulnerable in the world—our neighbor.
May we be compelled by Fred Roger’s consistent message of love, compassion, and generosity as we navigate these days.
Of the vast musical repertoire choirs are blessed to sing, sacred British choral works stand as among the most beloved. A quick glance at BMPC’s music library reveals dozens of titles by the likes of Parry, Bainton, Stanford, Britten, Howells, Bairstow, and others. It is worth noting that some of the most positive feedback I receive from the congregation is about this repertoire! For example, Herbert Howells’ “Like as the Hart,” Charles H.H. Parry’s “I Was Glad,” and Edgar Bainton’s “And I Saw a New Heaven” are works that are always praised and appreciated.
My first act as the Interim Pastor for Youth & Their Families at BMPC was riding the bus down to Montreat Camp & Conference Center for the 2024 summer youth conference. I knew that 15 of the 40 or so young people on the bus were from Bryn Mawr, but I didn’t know which ones. By the end of the week, I had a strong sense not just of which kids on the bus were in my care but of their idiosyncrasies, hopes, and visions for themselves and their world.
God created us without the ability to foresee what will happen in terms of our health in the future. If we did have that kind of foreknowledge, I don’t know whether it would produce more or less anxiety for us. Part of the process for making these kinds of plans involves separating helpful and unhelpful information (there is a lot more of the latter than the former).
The next two major events in our annual series of concerts will celebrate the gifts of British performers and composers. This Sunday, renowned British organist James O’Donnell will make his area debut, playing our magnificent Rieger organ, supported by the men of our Gregorian Chant ensemble.
Today, on the eve of Valentine’s Day, I am thinking about love. One of the hazards of professional ministry, I suppose, is that we pastors and preachers spend a lot of time pondering the origins of stories— Biblical, historical, and personal stories. Where did this account come from, and why do we commemorate it quite like we do? Tomorrow, many of us will exchange cards, chocolate, and flowers with those we love, and there’s nothing wrong with that! However, we’ve come a long way from the reason for the original Feast Day of Saint Valentine.
