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.
Have you noticed how quickly our vocabulary has expanded in just a matter of weeks? A couple of months ago, these words and their combination hardly passed our lips: COVID-19, coronavirus, social distancing, PPEs, self-isolation, flatten the curve, pandemic.
Since my usual ways of spending Sundays has changed with the arrival of COVID-19 and the need to close our church for a while, I am trying to find new ways to nurture my spiritual life with intention. A friend sent me this lovely poem, composed by Lynn Ungar, which has inspired me to use this odd and disconcerting season of isolation to rethink how I might practice Sabbath.
Dear Church Friends,
I miss seeing you, and I am keeping all of you in my daily prayers: all of us who are at risk as the COVID-19 coronavirus continues to spread in our community; those of you who have been struggling with other illnesses, declining health and isolation; church members in hospice care and those who love them dearly; healthcare providers and public servants on the frontline; families trying to care for aging relatives remotely, and parents trying to comfort, teach and entertain their children in this season of perplexity.
This coming Friday night, the BMPC Youth Ministry will be taking our middle schoolers to see the Disney Pixar movie Onward. With a Rotten Tomatoes score of 86 percent and 100 percent from audiences, the Middle School Movie Night is sure to be a delight!
After worship this Sunday there is a very special meeting at 11:15 a.m. in Congregational Hall. The Renovations Committee will give an update on the Education Building, and show the most recent design plans for the upcoming work on the Ministries Center, the Atrium which will connect the Ministries Center and Sanctuary, the Memorial Garden’s planned expansion and beautification, and the Sanctuary’s stained glass windows that need to be repaired. The meeting will be informative and exciting, and I encourage you to attend.
Five years ago this week I baptized our then six-week-old son, Charlie, into the one, holy, catholic and apostolic church in the congregation I served. Since he was the first PK (pastor’s kid) born to that congregation in nearly 20 years, parishioners piled into the pews like it was the Second Coming. Some showed up the day before to help me shovel snow from the church’s sidewalks. Our family came in from out of state. Charlie managed to not throw up on his christening gown. The reception following was bountiful. And the boiler in the sanctuary basement held steady. It was a glorious event for me as a pastor and as a new dad.
The ordering of our world means that every year ends with an extra one-quarter of a day, hours that eventually add up and result in Feb. 29 on our calendars. We are given this tiny bonus — like a fifth Sunday or a special assembly, we know it’s coming, but Leap Day remains an odd and wonderful gift. It is the extra day we always claim that we need.
