A Prayer for Boston

So I'm a few days late on posting this week, but I'm asking for your grace and understanding. This has been a difficult, emotional week for me. Allow me to egocentrically explain:

On Saturday, I was on Long Island for a dear friend's bridal shower. It was fantastic to see my best friends again--to celebrate the promise of things to come, to hear good news, and to belly laugh the way you do with people who have shared every aspect of your life for the past 7+ years. It was also incredibly painful for me to realize how temporary this was, and made me yearn for just a little more time with them. Another week seemed perfect. And so on Saturday, I was on the phone with Southwest Airlines, hoping that they might generously postpone my flight home until next Saturday, so I could go to Boston, visit more friends, cheer on the Marathon runners, and listen to my beloved gospel choir in their concert on Friday night. I was heartbroken when Southwest wanted to charge me another $300 in order for that to happen. Which wasn't going to happen. I'll be honest, I cried. It wouldn't be the last time this week, either. 

My heart is in anguish within me,

the terrors of death have fallen upon me. 

Fear and trembling come upon me,

and horror overwhelms me.

And I say, 'O that I had wings like a dove!'

Then...well, we've all heard the news. Pressure cooker bombs. Cell signals overrun. Three dead, hundreds injured--and how many more unreported with broken spirits, injuries unable to be cured in a hospital? Families separated. Complete chaos, utter fear of the unknown. Exceptional first-responders. Marathoners giving blood in the minutes after they finished the race. Students organizing to walk the final five miles for those who didn't get to finish. TV personalities expressing solidarity with the city in their own way. 

And then there's the rest of it. Factories exploding, even more school shootings, earthquakes around the world, controversial legislative votes. The Onion actually expressed my thoughts on the week well (warning: explicit language, if you're offended by that stuff). 

Confuse, O Lord, confound their speech;

for I see violence and strife in the city.

Day and night they go around it on its walls,

and iniquity and trouble are within it;

ruin is in its midst...

And then I woke up this morning and found out my beloved city was on lockdown. As David and I listened to Boston radio stations online (Thank God for the internet), I could barely keep it together. As we saw descriptions of neighborhoods we knew well, pictures of buildings in which I've worked or shopped or walked by, I was so scared for my city. My home. And I felt torn. I know my family is grateful that I didn't stay the extra week in Boston--and I am, too, to a certain extent--except that I'm not really. My heart, mind, and soul are stuck 1,157 miles east of here. It's isolating. Heart-wrenching. Like a mother who can't stand to watch her children suffer, I can't bear sitting so far away as I watch the place I love, the place where I grew up, where my friends still live, become a police state. 

But I call upon God,

and the Lord will save me.

Evening and morning and at noon

I utter my complaint and moan,

and [God] will hear my voice.

The Psalm I've been referencing is Psalm 55, a lament--a song of grief, loss, suffering--attributed to King David. In my own words, I like to imagine the composition of the psalm as something like this: "Hey, God, it's me. And you're going to listen to me right now. I know you're busy or whatever, but I need you right now. Things are really rough around here--like, really bad. Have you SEEN the news? Everyone's dying or suffering or being scammed. It's hard to deal. Even people I thought I knew well are saying things that don't make sense anymore. They're so calm when they talk about terrifying things, hateful things. And I want to ask you to destroy them, to enact revenge, but...well..instead, I'm asking you to be with me. I need you right now--we all need you right now. That's all I'm asking. Remind me that I'm not alone."

I will trust in you. 

We are not alone. GOD is with us.
Behind locked doors in an East-coast city, God IS with us.
Stranded 1,157 miles away from your heart's yearnings, God is WITH us.
As we wrestle with how we should react to the past week's events, God is with US.

Amen.

A Moment When Someone Has Blessed You

A highlight of my life was when I spent a summer during college with the Experiment in International Living in France. 

My French parents were lovely people who did everything they could to make me feel at home. Moussette was my “sister’s” nickname. Her married brother Claude and his wife Helene were among other special family members. 

One evening when I was staying with them Fridolin, my second cousin from Germany, came to see me. I easily sensed the family’s discomfort having a German in their home. After all, the Germans had occupied their town and maybe even their house about 20 years earlier. But Claude in his gregarious way invited me and my cousin for a drink in their apartment before Fridolin and I went out to dinner. He graciously accepted Fridolin regardless of the past. 

Norm and I visited my French family several times since then. The last time we were there I asked if we could see Claude. Helene told me that his memory was no longer reliable and that he might not remember me.  He and Helene met us outside as they came out of their house. I greeted him with a huge smile, which he returned, as he said, “Susie! Susie Boothroyd!”

The family all called me Susie, but my difficult last name was rarely mentioned. How could he have remembered it?? We gave each other a warm hug and went inside for a few minutes. Claude gave me such a blessing because he happily remembered me. Our friendship had lasted over 40 years of time, as well as through his decline of memory. I would like to think that my visit blessed him, too. He surely seemed happy to see me!

Can you think of a particular time when someone blessed your life in a special way, or you blessed another? 

~Sue

Congregational Responses| What Does Resurrection Mean to Me?

In the most recent issue of The Spire, the church's monthly newsletter, I asked the question, "What does the resurrection mean to you?" and I was delighted to receive several responses!  The meaning of the resurrection changes daily and contextually for me, but as I stated in The Spire, this year the resurrection in my own life seems to be about the weather.  This winter has really gotten me down emotionally, and my heart fills so full of joy when I realize that Spring is coming.

So this is what I wrote in The Spire: 

"I am someone emotionally affected by the weather (we all are to some extent, right?), so I always love that Easter coincides with the start of Spring.  I love this idea that the flowers come out of the ground as Christ comes out of the grave.  When the snow melts, it is as if the stone is rolled away from the grave, and that first little bud will pop out pretty soon.  It sure seems to be taking a while this year!  But just as the disciples didn’t know when Christ would rise again, so we anxiously await the arrival of those little buds."

And I received the following responses.  Please feel free to add more in the comments!  

"Easter Sunday, the resurrection, the spring flowers in the sanctuary, the hymns all give me joy in knowing that the people who I have loved and cherished over my lifetime who have died are truly in heaven, life everlasting, and that gives me joy and peace as I cherish the memories of my parents, grandparents, dear friends, Jill, Pat, Winnie, as well as others who touched my life." -- Julie M.

"When I think of Resurrection the first thing that comes to my mind is that Christ died and then he rose again to have eternal life. The obvious meaning, I guess. It reminds us that all of us will die some day, and then we will have life with him. Volunteering with Hospice patients tells me what awaits them. What a promise!" -- Sue L.

"My first thought: Christ is showing the world the beginning of a never-ending story. And the beat goes on. Next thought is: Love can survive death. And then there is the odd idea that this was a contest from the moment Jesus began His ministry. Could/would he be tempted to defy his Father? The 40 wilderness days were just a brief skirmish, the contest lasted until it was completed at the cross. Jesus won our freedom by willingly becoming the sacrificial lamb, the scapegoat that dies for the sins of all the people, the ceremony well understood by his followers. He freed us from the fear of death, by coming back to tell us death is not the end. If I don't fear death, then I can do many things to express my love. Those are my thoughts now, but wait ten minutes." -- Janis E.

"First, thank you for challenging me to live my faith every week of the year, not just holy week. Like most, my faith has had to mature over the years. Although faith has been very important to me since I was a high school student, it wasn't until my 40's that I put it into practice. About 15 years ago I made a point to attend Good Friday service instead of enjoying a day off from work. The light bulb went on. I finally considered the whole Christian calendar and come to realize it's not about Christmas, it's about Easter. From that point on Easter became the season that I focus on. I made it a point to commit to intense focus of my faith during holy week. That's why I was so upset when I forgot to attend Maundy Thursday service. JESUS DIED ON THE CROSS TO SAVE ME!!! I can't go to church on Good Friday without sobbing. When I get home I spend the rest of the afternoon in reflection. Then, there's Easter Sunday.  WOW." -- Dale B. 

"Christ's resurrection for me is a cornerstone of my faith because it is the ultimate, most radical defiance of our human, 'earthly' existence. It dramatically demonstrates that we, too, can rise above our worldly selves if we follow the path that Jesus has given us through his example and his very life." -- Tim L.

Stress!

Though Spring break has only been over for three days, already I feel like I'm being eaten alive by my academic work. I find myself forcing my brain into a daily marathon with very limited time to recover. While, I try to frequently remind myself of the extreme privilege of a college education, it is all too easy to grumble about the stress I place upon myself daily in college.

My hope for this blog post is to remind myself (and hopefully others) that God is an active presence in our lives. When my brain is being pulled in 100 directions during the week, I have go to remember that God hasn't forgotten about me. Some of my biggest stresses right now are whether I'll receive a summer job I've applied for and whether I'll one day be accepted to a medical school. What I often forget is that, though these two goals seem vitally important right now, God has an entire world of possibilities for my and your future. If I don't reach these goals, it will only mean that God is planning to take me down another, equally as fulfilling path. With this thought, I can let go of much of the stress and can fully consume myself in God's love and care. This does not mean that I have to stop working hard, but rather, I can go through each week knowing that God is pushing me to be my best.

I hope that during any week when we feel like busyness will drive us to insanity, we can have renewed energy knowing that God is with us.

Sermon Reflection | Easter Sunday

Hi Friends!

We had a beautiful Holy Week at the First Congregational Church of Ripon!  Of course, in all the hubbub, I took zero photos.  No photos of the Last Supper table set at the front of worship with candles for a Tenebrae service.  No photos of the altar completely stripped at the end of the service.  No photos of the Ripon Area Ministerial Association leading the community through the seven words from the cross on Good Friday.  No photos of the Easter Lilies and bright flowers arranged by our talented florist and decorator, Sallie, on Easter morning.  No photos of the Easter breakfast put on by our CE committee and Sunday school class.  

Oh, actually, I took this photo of the Maundy Thursday bulletin, the content of which is adapted from a liturgy by the Rev. David Bahr.  Is that a weird thing to take a photo of?  Oh well, here it is

But afterall, even if this is the only photo I have, the proof is in the pudding.  What does that even mean?  Okay, well I'll say this instead: the proof is in the members of the First Congregational Church.  In the events of the last week, we've been transformed!  I hope that's good enough! 

Oh, also, I'll share this photo that I saw on Facebook that made me laugh out loud.  I don't know if you have the same sense of humor as me.  So if you don't think it's funny, just think about how it's true.  Jesus was killed, but then he rose again.  Great news!  Hallelujah!  

Which leads us, with no further ado, to my Easter Sermon.  

Read: Luke 24:1-12

Listen: Jesus Way of Life Works!

Dig a Little Deeper: 
I must say, it is very difficult to write a sermon about the events of Sunday while going through the events of Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.  Maybe it will get easier the more times I have to do it?

I want to dig deeper with this, but I must admit I'm on my way out the door to attend Eden Seminary's Convocation and Herbster lectures.  All three of us will be making the 6.5 hour drive down to St. Louis to see friends and attend the lectures.  I am delighted!  But that means my blog-writing time is coming to an end.

Keep the conversation going!

--Pastor Joanna