Second Congregational Church

Late Christmas Eve 2014-- "The Hopes & Fears..."

"The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee [Bethlehem] tonight." So wrote Philip Brooks and so we sang in the carol "O Little Town of Bethlehem" a little while ago. "The hopes and fears of all the years..."

"It’s been a punishing year in the news," David Green commented this morning on Morning Edition. That’s certainly one way to put it. You know the list–beheadings, school bombings, school shootings, police shootings, demonstrations, ISIS, Syria, Ebola, floods, fires, climate change, children at our borders without adults, and that’s just in national and international news. What punishing news has happened in your personal life? A job loss? A tough diagnosis of your health? The loss of a loved one? Divorce? "The hopes and fears of all the years..."

How about hopes? What are the hopes that you bring to this night? We have a wedding coming up this year, and so I am hoping for a stress-free, sunny day for that, but, more importantly, for a lifelong love for my daughter and son-in-law. How about you? Are you hoping for continued remission of cancer? A new job? A new relationship? Reconciliation with an estranged family member or friend? Retirement? A long-awaited vacation? Relief from depression and anxiety? Getting a handle on an addiction?

On a national and international level, we perhaps share many of the same hopes–hope for a deep healing of the racial divide in our country, relief for so many mothers and fathers of African-American boys and young men who fear for their lives, hope for the majority of poor and middle-class families and individuals who struggle daily to make ends meet, to put food on the table, to keep or get a decent roof over their heads, to get needed healthcare; hope for a narrowing of the gap between the 99 and the 1%; hope for a Congress that actually keeps the common, greater good in mind, rather than narrow, self-interests and partisan posturing; hope for an end to all wars, hope for an end to the poisoning of the atmosphere and waters and soil of the planet; so many hopes...

"The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee [o little town of Bethlehem] tonight." Phillips Brooks is said to have written this poem after having ridden on horseback from Jerusalem to Bethlehem across the "Field of the Shepherds" on Christmas Eve in 1865. Back then, and even more so back when Mary and Joseph approached it, it looked little and defenseless. Talk about your backwater town, your hiccup in a Roman army drinking song. Today, of course, it’s surrounded by a wall to keep the Palestinians in–or out–or wherever they’re not supposed to be. Just a little town, a point of nothingness...

Thomas Merton wrote that there is an untouchable place in each one of us–a pointe vierge, as he called it

"At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God... from which God disposes of our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will. This little point of nothingness... is so to speak His name written in us... It is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in everybody, and if we could see it we would see these billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely."

This is the open space, an empty manger, if you will, a virgin womb. It is there that God enters in. It is from there that the divine human in each of us grows. When our defenses are down, when our cynicism is checked for a moment, maybe when our weariness kicks in and we are utterly open, there is indeed the possibility that God will be born in us.

So we bring our hopes and fears for ourselves and our world tonight. Is it just childish naivete that lets us hope for something new to be born in us and in our world? The not naive or sentimental historian Howard Zinn once wrote this–

To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fat that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness. What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places–and there are so many–where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction. And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we thing human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory. (Source unknown–from newsletter)

Just this past Monday an article on Slate.com entitled, "The World Is Not Falling Apart," commented on the apparent ratcheting up of bad news and despair--

How can we get a less hyperbolic assessment of the state of the world? Certainly not from daily journalism. News is about things that happen, not things that don’t happen. We never see a reporter saying to the camera, "Here we are, live from a country where a war has not broken out"—or a city that has not been bombed, or a school that has not been shot up. As long as violence has not vanished from the world, there will always be enough incidents to fill the evening news. And since the human mind estimates probability by the ease with which it can recall examples, newsreaders will always perceive that they live in dangerous times. All the more so when billions of smartphones turn a fifth of the world’s population into crime reporters and war correspondents.

A careful, objective look at murder rates, rates of violence against women and children, wars between states, democratization, and number of civilians killed in mass killings or genocides since the 1940's shows a decline in every indicator. "Look at the trend lines," Bill Clinton said, "not the headlines." "The world is not falling apart," conclude these authors Steve Pinker and Andrew Mack.

"The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight." We come tonight with our hopes and fears and at this table, the God of the universe becomes embodied in our flesh. The God who is energy and light and love, justice and peace and hope, becomes a vulnerable child, a pointe vierge, and climbs up into our laps to love and be loved by us. This bread becomes God’s body and our body, the cup becomes God’s blood, our blood. The hopes and fears of all the years are met here tonight, so may our hopes empower us and our fears not paralyze us.

May this prayer of Thomas Merton, who saw his hopes and fears wrapped up in all the people he saw that day on the street corner in Louisville, be our prayer tonight–

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. [from Thoughts in Solitude]

Amen, and amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

front news 12/20

Sunday December 21st we lit the 4th candle, the Candle of Love, and children presented the Christmas pageant. After worship, a Birthday party for Jesus was celebrated with sandwiches and cake. Carolers left from the church at 1pm to serenade the homebound.

Christmas Eve Services:

Wed., Dec. 24, at 5 pm. Through lessons, carols, and candles, we hear and tell the story. Our Second Congo Brass will play Music of the Season, beginning at 4:30, and the Jubellaire Ringers and Chancel Choir will offer anthems of hope and joy.

Also on Christmas Eve at 10 pm. will be a more contemplative, simple service of carols, candles, and communion.

A free will offering for the Emergency Fuel and Food Fund will be taken at both Christmas Eve Services

If you are interested in being part of the Pickup Choir at the 10pm Christmas Eve service speak to Mary or Bruce Lee-Clark

If you would like to bring a poinsettia for the Christmas Eve service please have it here by 10 am on Wednesday. Please remember to label your flower with your name and given in memory/honor of.

Christmas Flowers are given by:

Jan & Dick Fabricius in memory of loved ones
Lara Frenzel-Clark for her grandparents Mr. & Mrs. Walt Clark & family. And for her brother, Jeremy Frenzel.
Marjorie LaRowe in memory of her mother, Marjorie LaRowe
Mary & Bruce Lee-Clark in memory of loved ones
Norma & Ted Thomas in memory of loved ones
Syd & Marilyn Russell in memory of Patricia Urban
Beth Wallace in memory of Mary F. Skidmore

Looking ahead:

On Sunday, December 28th, at our 10 o'clock Sunday worship, when we'll sing the story through carols of your choosing. No Godly Play this morning, though nursery care will be available, so children are invited to sing with us.

Sunday, December 28th, at 3pm join St. James Episcopal Church in the Messiah Sing-Along! Whether you sing along, hum, or simply listen you’ll be delighted with this 10th annual Messiah Program, directed by Scott Smidinghoff. The program includes the Advent and Christmas section of Handel’s choral masterpiece, as well as the Hallelujah Chorus. A chamber orchestra and a talented vocal soloist Katie Beck, Robyn Madison, Rev. Scott Neal and Mark Madison will accompany the chorus. Just show up and bring your voice, enthusiasm and holiday spirit!

Tuesday, January 6th, the Trustees meet at 7 pm in Room 6.

Tuesday, January 13th, will be the date of the next Administrative Council meeting at 7pm.

front announce 12/20

Come, Seek, Pray, Learn

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,” wrote the great poet and author Maya Angelou. At Second Congregational Church, on this last Sunday in June, 2 weeks after the killings in Charleston, SC, Rev. Mary Lee-Clark will reflect on our response to that tragedy and the long-standing wounds of our nation, in her sermon entitled, “The Caged Bird.” Worship begins at 10 a.m., and all people of faith or in search of faith are welcome. Scripture readings include King David’s lament over Saul and Jonathan in 2 Samuel and two healing stories from Mark’s gospel. New members will be received.
Second Congregational Church is an Open and Affirming congregation of the United Church of Christ. We welcome all to our work and worship, without regard to age, race, economic condition, disability, or sexual orientation. Our building is located at 115 Hillside St. and is wheelchair-accessible. Nursery care is provided. For further information, call the church office at 802-442-2559.

“Good News!?”-- Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11, Luke 1:46-55-- Dec. 14, 2014

Some have suggested that we not light the Candle of Joy today; that to light such a candle flies in the face of all the grief and suffering and rage in our nation and world--

How can we light a candle of joy when there is so little joy in far too many lives –writes our Associate Conference Minister, The Rev. Pam Lucas in an alternative candlelighting liturgy--
So little joy even in our Christmas story –
as Jesus’ life will be threatened by the world’s power –
as babies under the age of two will be slaughtered in the attempt to eliminate the child Jesus –
as Jesus and his family will be forced to flee as undocumented immigrants to Egypt -
As Jesus would grow up and be nailed to a cross as a political prisoner.

... when hope and [peace] are denied to any one of God’s children –
how dare we light a candle of JOY when there are still lives considered to be expendable - of lesser or of no value.
And so on this 3rd Sunday of Advent
(we will not light the candle of joy because) OR
(we light this candle of Joy even as we remember that…)
there is no joy in injustice –
there is no joy when there is no hope –
and there is no joy where there is hatred -
and there is no joy when we continue to weep for young lives ending too soon –

Yet we also remember God did not leave us on our own. Jesus is Emmanuel – God with us – now and always.

Obviously, we did light the Candle of Joy this morning, even as we lit the Candles of Hope and Peace, but the context in which we light them is essential to remember. Just as it is important to remember the context in which our readings from Isaiah and Luke were set.

Isaiah–now the third writer in this book using the name Isaiah –this Isaiah was addressing the exiles returned to their homeland, along with those who had been left behind in Babylon’s deportation of the elite of Judah.

“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,” this Isaiah cries, “for the Lord has anointed me and sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; ...They shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities; the devastations of many generations.”

Ruins were the context of this Isaiah. Depression. Mourning. Power struggles.
Devastation. When the Babylonian armies had left with their captives, the fires and smoldering ruins of the cities and countryside of Judah had been left behind, along with the “non-elites.” Solomon’s gloriousTemple was a pile of rubble. Not much had changed when the exiles returned, 2 generations later, and the people who had been left behind were just as tired and discouraged as the exiles. They weren’t overly thrilled to have these unknown exiles and family members back and assuming they would resume their leadership roles. “Joy” was not exactly abounding. “Good news” was hard to come by.

Yet here is Isaiah, singing a song of love and energy–
I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, he sings, my whole being shall exult in my God; for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. For as the earth brings forth its shoots, and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations.

Depression and hopelessness are good news for those in power, for they keep things the way they are. Energy and hope, on the other hand, are good news for those who do not benefit from the status quo, for only then are things likely to change. Demonstrations in cities across the country, the “die-ins” by black Congressional staffers on the steps of Capitol Hill, professional sports players raising their hands in solidarity, ...I believe these are all signs of the Spirit of the God of justice at work, stirring things up. God is at work in the ruins. God is calling us to be partners in this work of rebuilding, just as God called the people of Judah through the prophet Isaiah to be about planting new gardens, building bridges, restoring hope.

Just so Mary’s song, called Magnificat from its first word in Latin, sings of old, entrenched ways being turned upside down.

My soul magnifies the Lord, Mary sings, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant...He has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty...

If you’re familiar with Bach’s Magnificat, you know the energy and excitement Mary’s song embodies. Something is definitely afoot. “Somethin’s coming, something good,” as Leonard Bernstein’s West Side Story song says. But that “something good” wasn’t patently obvious to Mary. Here she was young and unmarried, “with child” in a most extraordinary way. The more usual outcome would be stoning as an adulteress or abandonment by Joseph and the life of an outcast.

“Your vocation,” your calling, writes Frederick Buechner, “is where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” (Wishful Thinking) Your deep gladness. I think that is how we need to think of “joy” on this Third Sunday in Advent. Not entertainment, not cheap thrills or substance-induced giddiness, not a surface phenomenon but deep gladness. What makes you feel glad to be alive? What music is the deepest, truest song of your heart? Have you ever stopped to listen for it?

If that song or that gladness is deep enough, of course, it won’t be just your song or your gladness. It will be fed from that even deeper Source that runs through all life. And so it will be directed to the world’s deep hunger, as Buechner says, from the spring that lies deep in your heart.

“Mary was able to magnify God,” writes Carl Gregg, “because she was humbly open to the unexpected new life God was birthing within her, inviting us to echo her prayer, Let it be, Let it be. Let it be.” [patheos, 12/1/11] “Whisper words of wisdom,” the Beatles said, “let it be.” May it be so, Mary said. Can we be still enough, quiet enough, open enough, to let the unexpected new life God is birthing within us emerge and join with others to bring about a new creation?

Nobel Prize winner Leymah Gbowee writes of a dream she had in the midst of the war that ravaged her homeland of Liberia from 1989-2003. “Gather the women to pray for peace!” the vision said. She told her dream to her Lutheran women’s prayer group, and the leader of the group prayed, “Thank you for supplying us with this vision. Give us your blessing, Lord, and offer us your protection and guidance in helping us to understand what it means.” It was the start of the Liberian women’s peace movement.

The women shared their stories. All of them had seen and suffered horrors, of husbands and sons hacked before their eyes, of cocaine-crazed child soldiers roaming the countryside. About 20 Lutheran women met every Tuesday at noon to pray. One meeting a Muslim woman introduced herself and said she wanted to join them. “Praise the Lord!” the Christian women cried and an alliance was formed. Training sessions and workshops followed. The women passed out brochures and marched to city hall. Three days a week for 6 months they visited mosques, the markets, and the churches of Monrovia. “Liberian Women,” they cried. “Awake for peace!”

The women finally forced Charles Taylor into peace talks. They barricaded the reluctant, do-nothing men inside the talks until they reached an agreement. Disarmament followed. Voters were registered, and Liberians elected Ellen Johnson Sirleaf as the first woman President of an African nation. “Who were these women?” ‘I will say,’ says Gbowee, ‘they are ordinary mothers, grandmothers, aunts, sisters. They sowed bitter tears. They went out weeping. And they acted on their dreams of peace, joy, and laughter for their beloved country.” (Cited by Dan Clendenin, Journey with Jesus, 12/5/11)

Ordinary people, humbly open to God, to their dreams and their deepest longings, fully aware of the deep hunger of the world. “The truth is,” wrote M. Scott Peck, “that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.” [cited by Kate Huey in Sermon Seeds, 12/14/14]

“This Advent, how is God calling you to sing new lyrics to Mary’s song?” another writer asks. [Carl Gregg, op cit.] How is the Spirit moving within you such that in the new year your soul may ever more fully magnify God?” All of us–prophets and those terrified of speaking in public, young women and men, children who see the world through innocent eyes and elders who see with new eyes, a second naivete, even, ordinary people, like shepherds on a hillside–all of us, are called to bear witness to the mighty love of God, which even now, in the midst of ruins, is dismantling injustice, lifting up the lowly, planting new gardens. That mighty Love is calling us to be partners in this new creation, using our gifts, our talents, our skills, our unique songs. So may our joy, our deep gladness, increase and burst into bloom, and along with Hope, Peace, and Love, be born anew in our world. May it be so.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

"In the wilderness..cry"-- Isaiah 40:1-11, Mark 1:1-8-- Dec. 7, 2014

There’s no punctuation in Hebrew or Greek, so know that all those verse numbers and chapter headings in your Bible are very late afterthoughts. "Never place a period where God has put a comma" is not only the UCC’s way of saying "God is still speaking," it’s also good Biblical translation practice.

Today’s readings from Isaiah and Mark are full of ambiguities–is it a voice in the wilderness crying out, "Prepare the way of the Lord"? Or is it "a voice cries, ‘In the wilderness prepare the way!’"? Does it matter? It matters if you’re trying to figure out what the voice is trying to tell you–go into the wilderness to prepare, or is it simply that the voice in the wilderness is calling you to prepare the way right where you are?

And then there’s Isaiah’s image of the God who is coming "with might, and his arm rules for him," and in the next sentence those mighty arms of God are gathering the lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and gently leading the mother sheep." Which is it? Might or gentleness? The answer, of course, is "yes."

Which people is God telling Isaiah to comfort? The exiles in Babylon, far from home, or the early Christians, longing to understand who Jesus was and what God was doing through him? Again, the answer is "yes." And what about us? Are we the afflicted needing to be comforted, or are we the comfortable needing to be afflicted? You guessed it: "yes."

And what about the Peace for which we lit the candle today. Can we honestly pray for peace, or do we need to hear the words of that other prophet, Jeremiah, who said, "They have treated the wound of my people carelessly, saying, ‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace." (Jer. 8:11) What wounds of our nation and world have we treated carelessly, and so have no right to declare "Peace, peace"?

And finally, what about that beginning of Mark’s gospel? What kind of sentence is that–

"The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God." Where’s the verb? It sounds more like a title than a first sentence. Where’s the baby? The shepherds? The magi? It starts with John in the wilderness? Yes.

These Advent texts seem as full of shadows and wildness and murkiness as the Christmas Eve texts seem to us so radiant and mild and familiar. As the daylight in our part of the world gets shorter and dimmer this time of year, so the darkness of these texts comes to be appropriate. In fact, I was reading Barbara Brown Taylor’s book, Learning to Walk in the Dark Tuesday evening when the power went out. Pitch blackness. I noticed that my response to being alone in the dark was much less panicky than it might have been, or has been at other times. OK, I thought, let’s see what I’ve learned about walking in the dark.

What lessons might there be for us in this dark season which stands in such stark contrast to the glitter and wattage and full-press busyness of our culture’s season? How might the voices of Isaiah and John instruct us out there in the wilderness...or is it here, right where we are?

Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God [through Isaiah]. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid... A voice cries out: ‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.

This Isaiah is in sharp contrast to the Isaiah of the first 39 chapters. That "First Isaiah," writing in the 8^th c. Before the Common Era, had lambasted the people of Judah for oppressing the poor, taking advantage of the widows and orphans, putting their trust in foreign armies, abandoning the way of God. The "Second Isaiah" whose voice we read beginning in chapter 40 is speaking to a people in exile, far from home and hope, settled into the inertia of the habits of their captors, accommodating to where they found themselves. "Get you up to a high mountain!" Isaiah cries to them. "Lift up your voice with strength!" Receive the energizing, renewing word of God and let your imagination fly with images of valleys being lifted up and mountains and hills made low, of highways being carved into the desert. The powers that be would have you drugged and drowsy, taking no risks, going through the motions. "Get thee up!..Behold your God!"

"I think we are in fact exiles from our homes and hope," writes Old Testament professor John Holbert.

Our home is in God, who calls us to love our neighbor, to care for the poor, to serve the very least of these; all that was and is the call of Judaism to its adherents long before it was a call to Christians. Our hope is in the call and presence of God, not in our Gross National Product, our stock portfolios, our well-accoutered selves. We are in exile in more ways than we can [count]. (Patheos, 12/2/14)

Can we imagine ways needing to be straightened through the streets of Ferguson, MO or New York City? How about through the halls of Congress or the White House? What inequalities need to be leveled out? What rough places made plain? How can we make a highway for our God in the neighborhoods of Africa where Ebola ravages? Or the villages and refugee camps where the people of Syria and Iraq flee from the brutality of ISIS? How about through our church, or our lives? Get up–lift up your voice with strength, cries God! How else do you think I’m going to act, let alone "come"?!

"All people are grass..." Isaiah says. Even nations are grass. "... The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever." God’s energy endures. "Get you up to a high mountain, herald of good tidings...." God is not only the source of order, but also the disturber, the bringer of change and unrest, who shakes things up, as Process Theologian John Cobb says. (Cited by Michael Joseph Brown, HuffPost, 12/5/14) That’s what "the law and the prophets" is about–order and change.

"The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God" Mark’s gospel begins, or is entitled. It’s the beginning of a movement, not just of Jesus’ followers, what we call the "Christian movement," but the larger movement of God’s work, having been in the works since Isaiah and Malachi, since The Beginning, really, when God’s Spirit moved over the face of the deep. Mark’s gospel begins on the road, in the middle of nowhere, not in the center of power, which tends to become a black hole of inertia.

"Prepare the way of the Lord," John cries. "Make his paths straight.""John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins." This baptism is more like "being drowned and brought back to life" than being cleaned up or sprinkled, one writer observes (Peter Lockhart, A Different Heresy," 12/2/14) We prefer the dabbing to the drowning, of course. We’d like to think that all is needed is a little course correction, but John would adjust our spiritual GPS so that we are headed in the direction of God’s new age." (Bruce Epperly, The Adventurous Lectionary, 12/7/14) Get rid of your excess baggage, he says, which we’ve done this week in the Serendipity Sale! But more than that–focus on the essential. You’ll rediscover your life, the life God intends for you, of wholeness, of joy, of connection.

Sharron Blezard suggests that John the Baptist has at least 5 lessons for us. You may not want to follow John’s tips for fashion or diet, but these lessons are worth wrestling with–1. Get out of your comfort zone; 2. Be yourself and be true to your calling; 3. Know and live the message you’re trying to convey. "Marinate yourself in the gospel," Michael Frost says. "Steep yourself in God reality" is the way Eugene Peterson puts it. 4. Know Whose you are and why you do what you do; and 5. Be bold. [Sharron Blezard, Stewardship of the Gospel, 12/2/14)

"Comfort, O comfort my people," God says to us in this dark time, this time of repentance, of pondering, of pausing. Know that God’s comfort has little or nothing to do with consuming or self-sufficiency. (Mark Ryan, ekklesia project, 12/4/14) But know also that God can be found in the darkness as well as in the light, despite what our Christian tradition has too often taught: light is good, dark is bad. After all, God created the light AND the darkness and named each one. It is at night that the stars appear, nighttime when the heavenly host appeared to the shepherds, nighttime when Jesus was born, nighttime when Jesus was raised from the dead.

We can learn to walk in the darkness–the darkness of sorrow or sickness, the darkness of turmoil or upset, the dark night of the soul, the darkness of our national unrest and festering racism, the darkness of planetary warming and climate change. God does not abandon us in the darkness or in the wilderness. In fact, it is there that we are called to make a way. Hear the voice crying in the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord!"

It was at night when Jesus sat at table with his friends, when he broke bread and drank wine, telling them, Take and eat, take and drink, this is my body and blood which are for you and for everyone, for the forgiveness of sins, for the taking away of the separation between you and God. So let us set the table. Prepare the way. May it be so.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

News 12/0/14

This week at Second Congregational Church

Sunday, December 7th
5 pm Sunday Supper
7 pm Bible Conversation at the Lee-Clarks’

Tuesday, December 9th - Trustees Meeting at 7pm in room 6.
Tuesday, December 9th - Deacons meeting in the Clayton Room 7pm - 8pm
Wednesday, December 10th - Next Level Task Force meet at 7:30pm.
Thursday, December 11th - Relay for Life in the Webster Hall from 5pm - 8pm.

Looking ahead:

Sunday December 14th - The Giving Tree gifts should be returned to the church, in Christmas wrapping, on Sundays14th. The gifts will then be distributed to the agencies during the following week, so that their recipients have them prior to Christmas Day.

We want to hear from you. Sunday December 14th is the Open Door article submission deadline. Please have your articles submitted to the office. You can submit by email office@bennscc.org or drop a hard copy on my desk.

If you wish to have a poinsettia on the altar for Christmas please have it in the sanctuary by Saturday, December 20th at 11am. (Or in the kitchen on the counter by the door) Please let the flower committee or the office how you with it noted in the bulletin and Open Door. (Given by, In memory of, etc.) If you will be away or prefer the flower committee to purchase a plant for you please let Jan Fabricius, Grace Sohn or Mary Johnson know.

Our Christmas Pageant will be held Sunday, December 21st during the 10am service. Join us after the service to celebrate Jesus’ birthday in the Webster Hall. Then join us for Caroling at 1pm.

Mary's Piece 12/0/14

“Second Congregational Church, UCC celebrates the Second Sunday in Advent this week, beginning with worship at 10 o’clock on Sunday morning. We light the Second Advent candle—the candle of Peace—as we share signs of hope observed throughout the week. Following this Time for the Children in All of Us, children up through grade 5 are dismissed for Godly Play and the Middle- and High-school Class gathers. Nursery care is provided throughout worship. Rev. Mary Lee-Clark’s sermon, based on the readings from Isaiah and Mark, is entitled, “In the Wilderness…Cry.” All are then invited to participate in the Sacrament of Holy Communion.

A time of fellowship and refreshment for the whole church family follows in Webster Hall. Opportunities for Alternative Gift-giving from Heifer Project International and Lucy Lights are available, and Giving Tree Gifts are welcome.

Second Congregational Church welcomes all people of faith or in search of faith, without regard to age, race, sex, economic condition, disability, or sexual orientation. Our building is located on Hillside St. and is wheelchair accessible. For further information, contact the church office at 442-2559 or see our website at www.bennscc.org

"Hope...and Dread"-- Isaiah 64:1-9, Mark 13:24-37-- Nov. 30, 2014

When I was growing up, I had an Advent calendar, which I would open one window at a time in anticipation of Christmas Eve, but that’s about all I remember of Advent. We may have sung "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" at the beginning of December, but then we sang Christmas carols. Maybe we didn’t need the season of Advent 50 years ago, though the wisdom of our tradition has known better than that for centuries. Today, with the Christmas Machine growing more powerful, more ravenous, more ruthless by the year, Advent is like David and his slingshot standing up to Goliath and his massive armor. "Hold on a minute–or a month," Advent demands. "Yes, our economy depends on these 4, 5, 8 weeks of consumer spending, but is our economy the god we really want to worship? What’s it done for the majority of us lately?"

Debie Thomas writes that four weeks ago a 16-year-old boy in her town walked to the railroad tracks on the edge of town shortly after midnight, waited for the train, and stepped in front of it. Since 2009, she says, 7 teenagers have done the same thing. Fearing a cluster of copycats, the town has stationed police officers on the spot. "I pass those officers several times in the course of a day," Thomas writes, "and each time I glimpse their faces, I wonder: when they signed up to become cops, did they ever dream they’d spend their days like this? Keeping watch so our children won’t die of despair?" (D. Thomas, journeywithjesus, 11/24/14)

"O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!" Isaiah cries to God, "so that the mountains would quake at your presence–as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil...When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect, you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence." What we need is a Big God to do Big Things, Israel cried in the face of the Babylonian armies, as the elite were marched off to Babylon and the rest of the population were left behind in a devastated landscape. "O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!"

The residents of Ferguson, MO–and Afrrican Americans all over the country-- are crying out too for a Big God to do Big Things. "Black Lives Matter!" they cry, whether or not the specific case of Michael Brown’s death warrants an indictment, for the pain and prejudice go far deeper than any one incident. "O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!"

"Black Friday" sales begin before Thanksgiving is over. "It’s the most wonderful time of the year" is heard on our tv’s well before that. Nora Gallagher writes that she is "hungry for the ‘counterweight of liturgical time,’" [cited by Thomas, op cit.] the weight of a season of pausing, of praying, of repenting, of discerning, set against that other time of rushing, of partying, of indulging, of mindlessness that our culture demands.

And so our altar and pulpit and lectern are draped in purple and blue, the colors of remorse, penitence, and pre- dawn, "a ritual warning us not to greet God prematurely or presumptuously," as James Brenneman puts it. [cited by Kate Huey, weeklyseeds, 11/30/14] Most of the hymns we will sing this month are Advent hymns and many are in a minor key. We may want Christmas to feel the way it used to feel, and so would prefer to skip directly to Christmas carols and red and green streamers, but we need this time, if we are ever to come to genuine hope, which must be "aligned to reality, not to our own deadly self-delusions," as Kate Huey puts it so wisely. (Ibid.)

"O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!" Isaiah begged. "But in those days," Jesus warned, "after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken." These are images of a world utterly in need of a new beginning, of a total "do-over." As much as we may want to cling to the God of love whose mercy is boundless and who is able to clean up all our messes, that is not the full portrait of the God whom Isaiah and Jesus addressed. "The biblical God refuses to do nothing," OT professor Matthew Schlimm writes.

"Our God opposes all who harm other human beings or creation. Our God grows angry when children suffer, when people live in mansions while others are homeless, when corporations pollute God’s beautiful world. A god who responds to evil with nothing more than calm I-love-you’s: that’s the very definition of an evil deity. If our theology is going to work amid the rubble of Gaza, the beheadings in Iraq, and those gunned down by racism, then it needs a God capable of growing angry." [Christian Century, Nov. 26, 2014, p. 20]

Slow down. Take a minute–or a month–to prepare. Don’t let your preoccupation with Christmas gifts prevent you from receiving the gifts that Advent has to offer. Debie Thomas suggests there are at least three such gifts–

The first is "permission to tell the truth." The world is not okay. Yes, there are still good people doing good things, the earth is filled with amazing beauty, but my friends, all is not right with the world. Grief is a far more honest and ultimately helpful response than denial. The color purple that calls us to repentance is justified. "Confession" means telling the truth. Advent gives us permission to tell the truth, so take some time to look deeply at your own life and the life that we have all bought in to. Go deep, instead of wide, this month.

A second gift of Advent is the "gift–and discipline–of waiting." We now have at our fingers instant information. Our technology makes buying, doing, communicating, knowing mind-bogglingly fast. For just a few extra dollars, you can get what you want delivered to your door overnight. And all those lists that we make during December–lists of things to do, things to buy, ...–just beg for us to cross items off them. Get Christmas tree–check. Order fruit for Aunt Martha–check. Find the cookie cutters–check. Wrap presents–check. Advent reminds us that there are some things that are still unfinished, unformed, and there are lessons for us in the "powerlessness of waiting." (Sam Wells, Faith and Leadership, 11/27/11) Eugene Peterson des- cribes the Christian life as "a long obedience in the same direction"–talk about counter-cultural! Advent reminds us that things worth waiting for happen in the dark...

Thirdly, Thomas says, "Advent prepares us for the God who is coming, who may be very different from the one we expect or even hope for." Isaiah prayed for a Big God to come and do Big Things. Who would have noticed a baby being born to a peasant couple? A healer living among the poor? A man hung on a Roman cross?

"We enter this season," Walter Brueggemann says, "in a spirit of yearning for that which would be too good to be true: some new and unique expression of God’s intention to save a world gone wrong." (Cited in Kate Huey, op cit.) Are we hopeful enough, alert enough, to perceive it?

"But about that day or hour no one knows," Jesus said, "Neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert. For you do not know when the time will come...And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake."

The world as it is right now–comfortable for many of us, absolutely deadly for so many others–the world as it is cannot stand. We cannot go on ignoring the God of justice or the laws built into the fabric of the web of life on our planet forever. Our nation cannot continue on its greedy, voracious path which benefits the few at the expense of the many. One modern day prophet writes:

If allowed to continue, this process will turn the Untied States into a declining, unfair society with an impoverished, angry, uneducated population under the control of a small, ultrawealthy elite. Such a society would be not only immoral, but eventually unstable, dangerously ripe for religious and political extremism. (Charles Ferguson, cited in W. Brueggemann, Reality, Grief, Hope, pp. 35-6)

The world is already ending for many of our brothers and sisters–the world that they have known, as they grieve the death of loved ones or relationships, or the world as it is. Our hope, if we are to have any, must be deeper. Our imagination must be richer than Christmas commercials. Let your imagination roam in this blessing by Jan Richardson, who marks the one-year anniversary of her husband’s death–

Blessing When the World is Ending

Look, the world

is always ending

somewhere.

Somewhere

the sun has come

crashing down.

Somewhere

it has gone

completely dark.

Somewhere

it has ended

with the gun

the knife

the fist.

Somewhere

it has ended

with the slammed door

the shattered hope.

Somewhere

it has ended

with the utter quiet

that follows the news

from the phone

the television

the hospital room.

Somewhere

it has ended

with a tenderness

that will break

your heart.

But, listen,

this blessing means

to be anything

but morose.

It has not come

to cause despair.

It is simply here

because there is nothing

a blessing

is better suited for

than an ending,

nothing that cries out more

for a blessing

than when a world

is falling apart.

This blessing

will not fix you

will not mend you

will not give you

false comfort;

it will not talk to you

about one door opening

when another one closes.

It will simply

sit itself beside you

among the shards

and gently turn your face

toward the direction

from which the light

will come,

gathering itself

about you

as the world begins

again.

– Jan Richardson ( http://adventdoor.com/2014/11/23)

So this Advent, "Be patient. Be still. Hope fiercely. Deep in the gathering dark, something tender is forming. Something beautiful–something for the world’s saving–waits to be born." (Debie Thomas, op cit.) May we keep alert–and wait. Amen, and amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

"The Fullness in Everything"-- Ephesians 1:15-23, Matthew 25:31-46-- Nov. 23, 2014

This is an odd day. Though, of course, "this is the day which God has made, so we are to rejoice and be glad in it," as the old call to worship says. But it is an "odd" day in the sense that it is a day when the Church’s calendar seems to have nothing to do with the culture’s calendar, or even nature’s calendar. Here on the 4^th Sunday in November, the church celebrates the culmination of its year, pointing to the culmination of history, when Christ is Sovereign or King over everything, "seated at the right hand of God, from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead," as the creed proclaims. There is so much here to make us squirm.

The United Church of Christ has dealt with its discomfort over the male, hierarchical image of "Christ the King" by re-naming today "Reign of Christ Sunday." I don’t know about you, but that falls a little flat on my ear, probably because the image of "king" is so vivid, so bright, so glittering in my mind, from so many paintings and movies, and "the reign of Christ" is so much more diffuse, abstract, and, well, dull.

But I get it–the image of the once earthly and very human Jesus, born to a peasant family, who lived and taught and healed among the poor and rejected of Palestine, and who was nailed to a cross of the Empire, now a distant king on a throne, using the nations as a footstool and con-demning a good portion of them to eternal punishment just doesn’t make sense to me. It’s the same old, same old story of absolute, dominating power. There are way too many examples of that in our world, and none of them are bringing about a new creation.

So, there’s that. And then there’s the implication, if not outright statement, that it’s only those who profess their "belief" in Christ–those who "bend the knee" to Christ-- who will be saved. Is that what Jesus was about? Is that what he taught about God? That the billions of people who experience the Divine through the teachings of Hebrew scripture, or Mohammed, or the Buddha, or Hinduism, or Bahalluah are condemned to eternal punishment?

We may not all claim this label, but we have used the term "progressive Christian" to describe our church on our website and other publications. There is actually an organization, a self-identifying group of Christian churches who call themselves "progressive Christians," and the first two of 8 points describing this informal grouping say: By calling ourselves Progressive Christians, we mean we are Christians who: 1. Believe that following the path and teachings of Jesus can lead to an awareness and experience of the Sacred and the Oneness and Unity of all life; (and) 2. Affirm that the teachings of Jesus provide but one of many ways to experience the Sacredness and Oneness of life, and that we can draw from diverse sources of wisdom in our spiritual journey. [progressivechristianity.org, The 8 Points] What can we mean, then, when we celebrate the "Reign of Christ"?

In her book, The Signature of All Things, author Elizabeth Gilbert has created the character of Ambrose Pike, a young botanical illustrator of the mid-1800's. Ambrose discovered the writings of Jacob Boehme, a 16^th c. cobbler from Germany who had mystical visions about plants. "The old cobbler had believed in something he called ‘the signature of all things’–namely, that God had hidden clues for humanity’s betterment inside the design of every flower, leaf, fruit, and tree on earth. All the natural world was a divine code, Boehme claimed, containing proof of our Creator’s love." (P. 229)

Ambrose Pike himself had had a mystical experience of his own, he tells his friend Alma, who was anything but mystical. When she asked him to describe what happened, Pike replied: "I met the divine," he said, eyes bright. "Or, I believed I did. I had the most magnificent thoughts. I could read the language hidden inside trees. I saw angels living inside orchids. I saw a new religion, spoken in a new botanical language. I heard its hymns. I cannot remember the music now, but it was exquisite. Also, there was a full fortnight when I could hear people’s thoughts. I wished they could hear mine, but they did not appear to. I was kept joyous by exalted feeling, by rapture. I felt that I could never be injured again, never touched. I was no harm to anyone, but I did lose my desire for this world. I was...unparticled." (P. 231) Now, you may consider this little more than an artistic description of insanity, and mystics have been called that and more.

But what this 16^th century cobbler called "the signature of all things" has also been put into more modern terms by the very contemporary theologian Cynthia Bourgeault, whom I’ve mentioned before. Bourgeault too has discovered the writings of Jacob Boehme, and talks about this "signature" as a hologram [Bourgeault, The Holy Trinity and the Law of Three, p. 101], that is, the full imprint of divinity put into all things, "the fullness of the One who is all in all." If, as the Church has affirmed, Jesus was both fully human and fully divine, then in Christ, the "signature" or fullness of God was made known completely in a human being. That same fullness fills all in all, whether we recognize it or not, and whether we choose to live in alignment with that fullness, "obey it," if you will, that Divine Signature is the sovereign, the essential rule, of all creation.

Images of kings and monarchs, in fact, may distract us from recognizing the Signature of all things. When we think of God only in terms of power and might and glory, we miss the face of the Divine standing before us asking for a cup of water, or a place to sleep, or something to eat; or the Signature present in the blossom of an orchid, or the antenna of a beetle, or the moss on a mountainside. It has less to do with "confessing" the name of Christ and so much more to do with acts of service and mercy to those who bear the Signature of the creator of all things. We can choose to participate in partnership with God in bringing about the new creation, or do nothing. That is what the goats in the story did–not that they committed evil acts, but they did nothing in the face of suffering. And so they were judged–they put themselves apart from the saving grace of God.

If God has pressed the fullness of divinity into all things and all people, then it is our freedom and responsibility to recognize that and act in accordance with it. To say that Christ is sovereign, that the fullness of God is all in all, then the other authorities to which our lives appear to give allegiance–the authority of consuming, the authority of the status quo, the authority of perfectionism, even the authority of government when it does not serve the common good–all these allegiances are exposed and become secondary–that is the judgment. And the grace is, as one writer puts it, that we are given "the gift of a fresh spirit of wisdom and revelation." [C. Clifton Black, workingpreacher.org, 11/20/11] "If Christ is king," he says, or, as we have been thinking of it, if Christ is the signature of all things, "then Christians are not helpless victims. They are conduits of Christ’s immeasurably redemptive power: the church is the very body of his fullness that fills all things with loving goodness..." If we bear God’s imprint, then "nothing–unemploy-ment, poverty, cancer, war, terrorism [or death]–nothing can break God’s self-bonding to us through Christ." (Black, ibid.) If god’s signature is in everyone, then no one is truly a stranger, an alien, which might inform our discussion on immigration.

In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus tells this last story of the sheep and the goats just before he tells his disciples, "You know that after 2 days the Passover is coming and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified." The One by whom we are judged is the One who took on human suffering. And who was not destroyed by death, even death on a cross, but rather was raised into new life, the life in which we can all take part.

So, at the end of this year, we pray for a new beginning, we pray for the coming of the kingdom in which God’s signature will be recognized in all things and all people. We pray to the Author of our days, even as Jesus prayed to his abba– O God, you love us like a good parent, and are present in every aspect of our existence May your nature become known and respected by all May your joy, peace, wholeness and justice be the reality for everyone as we live by the Jesus Way Give us all that we really need to live every day for you And forgive us our failures as we forgive others for their failures Keep us from doing those things which are not of you, and cause us always to be centred on your love For you are the true reality in this our now, and in all our future. In the Jesus Way we pray. 　Amen. [ D. Sorrill, cited by Rev. Re A.E. Hunt, Liturgies for the Celebration of Life, 11/23/14]

Christ is the fullness in everything. Thanks be to God! Amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

Announcements for week of Oct 26

Today at Second Congregational:

11:30 am SCC Adventures in Reading first meeting to discuss books in the Clayton Room

11:30 am Ministries Council Meeting in the sanctuary

5 pm Sunday Supper

7 pm Bible Conversation at the Lee-Clarks’

This week:

Monday, November 24^th - Bob Seale’s funeral will be held at Mahar and Son Funeral Home at 12 pm.

Thursday, November 27^th – Thanksgiving Day-- May everyone have a full belly and lots of laughter!

Looking ahead:

Next Sunday, Nov. 30^th - First Sunday in Advent. Alternative Gift Giving opportunities will be available during Sunday Social.

Friday, December 5^th & Saturday, December 6^th - Be sure to put the 66^th annual, fabulous, unique, and fun SNOWBALL BAZAAR on your calendars for, Friday, December 5^th 6:00-8:30 and Saturday, December 6^th, 9:30-3:00 !!!!

**Please note: There will be no meetings or groups held in our building from December 1^st - December 6^th in preparation for the annual Snowball Bazaar!

If you still haven’t filled out your “Estimate of Giving for 2015” please get them in so the Trustees can prepare the 2015 Budget with as much accuracy as possible.

Thanksgiving Bags – Update: 32 shopping bags were signed out and amazingly 41 bags of food for Thanksgiving and beyond were returned. They contained a total of 647 non-perishable items. Thank you – David Durfee

Needs a home – 2 adult cats both 1 year old. One female & one male. Both spayed and neutered and have shots. Could be together or not please call Jonathan at (802) 779-2870 Thank you – Ada Sue Diamond

This Sunday, November 23rd

“The church year comes to a close this Sunday, so come gather the year in thanksgiving and hope at Second Congregational Church. Worship begins at 10 a.m. and includes a Time for the Children in All of Us. Children up through grade 5 are then dismissed for Godly Play and the Middle- and High-school Class meets. Nursery care is provided throughout worship. The Chancel Choir sings Our Song of Thanks, and Rev. Mary Lee-Clark’s sermon is entitled, “The Fullness in Everything,” based on the readings for Reign of Christ Sunday. We will light candles in memory of loved ones who have died in our annual Service of Memory and Hope.

A time of fellowship and refreshment for the whole church family follows in Webster Hall. Giving Tree assignments will be available. The Adult Reading Group meets in the Clayton Room, and the Ministries Council meets in the sanctuary at 11:35.

Second Congregational Church is an Open and Affirming Congregation of the United Church of Christ and welcomes all people of faith or in search of faith, without regard to age, race, sex, economic condition, disability, or sexual orientation. Our building is wheelchair-accessible. For more information, call the church office at 442-2559 or stop in and see us.

"Going from Strength to Strength"-- Matthew 25:14-30-- Nov. 16, 2014

As promised, another parable from Matthew today that ends with someone being thrown out into the outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. Today’s parable may be a familiar one, especially for those of us who have been through a few stewardship seasons in church–that time of year when we try to gather estimates of what folks plan to give to the church in the following year so we can build a budget. It’s familiarly called, "The Parable of the Talents," but the more familiar we are with it, the less likely we are to be able to hear anything new from it. Parables are multi-layered and come with a warning, as one writer says: "If you believe you know ‘the’ meaning of a parable, you know you’re mistaken." (Kate Huey, weeklyseeds, 11/16/14)

A talent was an amount of money equivalent to about 15 years wages–an unthinkably large amount of money for a servant. We who are steeped in capitalism easily read this parable as an endorsement of the investment and dividend system–the more you invest, the more you’re likely to get, though, of course, not without risk. Stan Duncan, a UCC pastor and blogger who also happened to go on the CWS trip to Honduras with me and Sue Wiskoski and Vic Callirgos a few years back, gives us one possible layer of this parable. He writes that it was dishonorable for the elite of Jesus’ time to openly try to expand or increase their wealth, so they gave the dirty work of investing to their servants. The first two servants went along with the system, Stan points out, not for their own financial gain but for the power and prestige that would come their way. The third servant, interestingly enough, actually followed Torah, which forbids lending with interest, and so buried the money, keeping it safe until his master’s return. He knew the master was evil, and he ends up being "crucified," as Stan puts it. The traditional readings of this parable, Stan says, equate Jesus or God with the master, but then you have decide what you want to do with the image of a harsh and punishing God. What if Jesus is the third servant, refusing to go along with the domination system? Or what if this is simply a description of what happens when you stand up to an unjust system?

That’s one possible layer or meaning of this parable. AND–it doesn’t have to be just one meaning– AND we could also look at this parable as part of the group of the other parables here at the end of Matthew’s gospel which all have to do with waiting, about living in the meantime until Jesus returns. Last week’s illustration with the five wise and 5 foolish virgins used oil for a lamp. This week’s uses money. We get our English word "talent" meaning gift or ability from this same word, and so we often hear the parable in terms of using our gifts and talents. As it is, research in positive psychology has shown that using our strengths actually does have a ripple effect on our sense of well-being–instead of always focusing on our weaknesses and expending all our energy trying to make up for them, it is far more productive to exercise our strengths. To allow a gift or strength to lie unused until some other, more desireable ability is acquired, too often leaves a child feeling like they’re in the outer darkness. A little girl who was brilliant in math but not so great in verbal skills was assigned to all sorts of remedial English and reading work, to the exclusion of math. She eventually became so disheartened and discouraged about her abilities and worth that she also lost all her passion for math. What a waste! Similarly, a young boy who had not been at all successful academically felt a sense of shame and embarassment, until one day his teacher discovered that he was actually an amazing juggler. She asked him to demonstrate his juggling for his classmates, who were mightily impressed and asked him to teach them. He devised a series of lessons from basic to more advanced juggling, and his self-esteem and even his other classwork improved. Had that teacher not perceived and cultivated his talent, he too might have ended up in that proverbial "outer darkness."

One meaning of this parable is certainly that the gifts or resources that we have are not to be hoarded or buried, but rather are to be put into circulation for the greater use and blessing of others. John Wesley wrote of the third servant, "...so mere harmlessness, on which many build their hope of salvation, was the cause of his damnation." Mere harmlessness, not rocking any boat, keeping on keeping on, not risking anything, may have just the opposite effect than we intend.

For me this Next Level process we are engaged in with the Center for Progressive Renewal has reinforced that truth. For us as a church to merely keep on doing business as usual will not preserve or save us, but will rather guarantee our demise. We may continue our worship and ways that are comfortable and meaningful to those of us who are here until we are no longer here–nor will anyone else. We have everything to gain and nothing to lose by trying new ways of reaching out to those who have never been here or part of any faith community. We will have only a building and an endowment left if we don’t risk investing in new programs, new ministries, new outreach. We have been entrusted with incredible resources–not only of this accessible, open building and assets on our balance sheet, but also of an amazing variety of talents, experience, passion, generosity, and compassion. We need to invest them in growth [which is apparently now called "the G word" in the UCC] and in creating a welcome and a message that will literally be life-changing, even life-saving, to others.

In this parable, the third servant thought of the master as a harsh man, and so acted accordingly. The response he got from the master was what he expected, and he was thrown out into the outer darkness. This challenges us to consider how we imagine the One whose return we await. Is the motivation for our response to God one of fear or of awe-filled expectation? Do we imagine God as having thrown down the gauntlet, or the challenge, to use what we’ve got ...or else? Do we imagine ourselves as our Puritan forebear Jonathan Edwards put it in a sermon–"Sinners in the hands of an angry God"? As one writer says, "Fear distracts us from living with expectant hearts...it keeps us from investing our lives in the work of God." [Robert Cornwall, Ponderings on a Faith Journey, 11/11/14]

Or do we trust that God is in the midst of our ministries and our initiatives, creating alongside us, working with us to bring new life and new meaning to individuals, to a community, and to a world starving for that meaning and joy? Nancy Rockwell writes that there is "power that comes from the joy of receiving life as a gift and from the confidence of being loved by God. This hope opens us readily to share with others the bounty we have–our bounty of ideas, welcome, the riches in the day itself, and our riches." (Rockwell, biteintheapple, 11/9/14)

For Matthew’s community, the issue was less about investing money and all about spreading the gospel. That was risky business. While we don’t face Roman soldiers knocking down our doors to throw us into the arena with lions, we do seem to shrink from advertising or even talking about the meaning and message we find here in this community of faith. After all, this is New England. We don’t talk about this stuff! But, maybe we’re withholding life-giving experiences from our spiritually-starving neighbors just as surely as shutting down our Sunday Supper or the Emergency Food and Fuel or the Kitchen Cupboard would withhold physical food.

A memorable story like this parable uses hyperbole–exaggeration–like the image of thousands of dollars, 15 years’ wages. What would it take to impress us who are used to hearing billions and trillions of dollars thrown around in national or international monetary terms? What image would convey to us what’s at stake as we wait in this time that God has given us, to be the Body of Christ, to heal and lift up, to bring joy and meaning and abundant life and dignity for all God’s children? What would get our attention before God–or we-- bring this experiment in Earth-living to a close? The number of children who die of hunger each day? That statistic is already available. The number of species that are disappearing each week? We can look that up. The number of feet in the rise of sea level and degrees of warming? Already done. It doesn’t seem to raise our blood pressure or change our habits. What about the extent of depression and addiction? What about the weeping and gnashing of teeth that so many of our sisters and brothers already live with and that we ourselves experience from time to time?

In this time of waiting, the tension in these parables and in our lives today is between preservation and preparation–holding on to what we’ve got, making security our priority, seeing the world through a scarcity mindset, on the one hand, and on the other, risking everything for the possibility of a whole new creation, loosening our grip on the tried and true and opening our hands to receive gifts we’ve never imagined, seeing the world through an abundance mindset.

The great humorist Erma Bombeck, wrote in a column back in 1987–

I always had a dream that when I’m asked to give an accounting of my life to a high court, it will go like this: ‘So, empty your pockets. What have you got left of your life? Any dreams that were unfulfilled? Any unused talent that we gave you when you were born that you still have left? Any unsaid compliments or bits of love that you haven’t spread around?’ And I will answer, ‘I’ve got nothing to return. I spent everything you gave me. I’m as naked as the day I was born.’ (Cited by Steve Goodier, Lifesupportsystem, 11/16/14)

I know I’m not there yet. What would you answer?

There is a story from the Desert Fathers in which one of the brothers came to Abba Joseph and said to him, "I’ve been doing some fasting, some praying, some basket-weaving, but what more can I do?" Abba Joseph raised his hands and flames shot out of his fingers. "Why not become all flame?"

Can you imagine? Can we imagine? What would it be like to become totally flame? What have we got to lose? Let’s see what we–with God–can set on fire!

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

"Wedding Panic"-- Joshua 24:1-3a, 14-25, Matthew 25:1-13--Nov. 9, 2014

I’ll admit that there is just a smidge of the autobiographical in today’s sermon title. Both Bruce and I have helped to plan countless wedding ceremonies, but it’s been a long time– over 36 years–since we had to plan a whole wedding day, our own. We sat down with Meredith and Chris last night to map out responsibilities and expenses for their wedding, and I have renewed sympathy for the couples who approach me about getting married. The one area where Bruce and I are moderately "expert" at–the ceremony itself–is being taken care of by Meredith’s godmother, an ordained United Methodist minister–so we just get to be the parents of the bride, which is wonderful and, as I said, a little overwhelming.

But this parable about a wedding which is the assigned reading for this morning? What is it about weddings that brings out the ruthless and vengeful in Matthew’s Jesus?! Remember the other wedding parable we read a few weeks ago where the invited guests all gave excuses why they couldn’t come, so the master had his servants go out and bring people in off the streets. And then when he sees one of these guests not in proper wedding attire, has him tied up and thrown out into the outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth! It kind of makes you dread weddings, or at least to begin to advocate that all couples elope and get married privately.

This parable isn’t in any of the other gospels. And Matthew seems to have a fondness for finishing off Jesus’ parables with somebody getting thrown or banished into the outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth–there are at least 6 instances in this gospel, whereas it only appears once or twice in the others. While it’s not in today’s reading, it appears in the parable just before this one and the one immediately after (stay tuned for next week!). Here toward the end of Matthew’s gospel, set in the last week of Jesus’ life, we can either read Messianic stress and strain in Jesus’ words and mood, as someone has suggested, or, more likely, read the stress and strain of Matthew’s community–under extreme duress from Rome and bitterly estranged from their own Jewish community who didn’t recognize Jesus as the Messiah. Human nature doesn’t seem to have changed all that much in 2000 years, as fear, humiliation, and estrangement still drives otherwise faithful people to entertain images of revenge, violence, and ruthlessness.

One woman asked a friend of hers who is relatively "unchurched" to read this parable of the 10 "Bridesmaids,"-- as the NRSV translates, "the 10 Virgins" is really more accurate-- with her, and when they had finished, he said, "Is that in the Bible? Well, it’s not right." (Rev. Dr. Anna Carter Florence, DayOne.org, 11/4,07) It certainly seems to contradict what Jesus teaches elsewhere–the "wise" virgins won’t share their oil with their sisters, but send them out into the darkness to buy more for themselves [and what gas station is open at midnight?]. It sounds like the beginning of an end-of-fossil-fuel dystopia. If taking care of yourself and being prepared with enough supplies is a priority for Jesus, then what about the feeding of the 5000? Jesus didn’t tell the crowds there, "All right, those of you who planned ahead and brought a picnic supper, we’ll take a dinner break now. The rest of you are out of luck." Or how about when the five young women finally return and knock on the door to be let into the feast, and the bridegroom says he doesn’t know them and the door remains shut. What happened to, "Knock, and the door shall be opened unto you"? What about that "extravagant welcome" that we in the UCC talk about? Do we want to tell our children this story? This is what it means to be wise?

So what are we left with, besides "wedding panic"? First of all, it’s ok to critique a passage in the Bible based on what we know from other parts of the Bible, the overwhelming biblical values of sharing and compassion and hospitality, for example. It’s ok to say, "That’s in the bible? Well, it’s not right."

But is there any wisdom to be gleaned in this troubling parable put on Jesus’ lips by Matthew? The Rev. Dr. Anna Carter Florence points out that "the parable doesn’t say whether the bridesmaids had any oil at home.

It doesn't say a word about motives or extenuating circumstances or reasons why five women might conceivably have left their oil flasks at home. And that's significant, I think. Maybe this is not a story about how much oil you have. Maybe this is a story about the oil you carry with you. And the parable is very clear: all ten bridesmaids had lamps, but five of them were foolish and five of them were wise. The wise ones brought flasks of oil with their lamps when it was time to wait for the bridegroom. The foolish ones showed up with lamps and nothing to keep them going. And when your lamp goes out, you may have gallons of oil sitting at home; but it's not going to do you any good there. (Carter Florence, op cit.)

"Maybe this is a story about the oil you carry with you." There are some things, aren’t there? that you have to carry with you, that you can’t borrow from somebody else. You can’t borrow someone else’s story or self-esteem, for instance, even though our celebrity-worshipping and sports fan culture would try to tell us otherwise. You have to be prepared to stand in your own true self when you lose your job or your health or a loved one, let alone when your team loses or your favorite celebrity falls from grace. "Keep awake," Jesus says, and don’t get lulled into the illusion that you can live off someone else’s life.

Maybe this is a story about the oil you carry with you. You can’t borrow someone else’s faith or trust in God. You’ve got to carry that with you. You’ve got to nurture it yourself, with practices like prayer and meditation, worship and sacred reading, acts of service and standing for justice. First we form our habits, and then our habits form us, a wise man once said. We can’t prepare for every situation, but if we’ve practiced affirming God’s presence at all times, we are more likely to experience that presence when the rest of our world seems to be crumbling. If we’ve practiced acts of service and advocated for justice, we’re more likely to find the courage to stand up on behalf of another in the midst of an injustice. "Keep awake," Jesus says, and don’t get seduced into all kinds of other busyness that crowd out the practices and disciplines of faith.

Maybe this is a story about the oil you carry with you. I read somewhere that most people think they’ve got at least another 5 years to live. If you’ve got another 5 years to live, you’ve still got time to make a will and to fill out an advanced healthcare directive. If you’ve got another 5 years to live, you’ve got time to clear things up with your parent or your child or that estranged friend. If you’ve got another 5 years to live, you’ve got time to do some thinking about what’s really important to you and what you’d like to do with your time, your resources, your energy.

But what if time, let alone 5 years, isn’t the oil you can carry with you? What if "the bridegroom" arrives during our Sunday Social today? What if tomorrow life happens to you when you’ve made other plans [which is the definition of life]? What if you or your loved one don’t have 5 years to live? What oil are you carrying with you ? "Keep awake," Jesus says, "for you know neither the day nor the hour."

This isn’t a parable that we need to use to scare people–to put up on a billboard like the one just before you come into Vermont on Rt. 7 that says something like, "What if you were to meet God tonight?" and has flames in the background. Or, frankly, like the movie that’s being shown in one our sister churches next weekend about heaven and hell and where you’re likely to go if you’re not "right with God and accept the Lord Jesus into your heart." I don’t find fear to be a sustainable motivator. It is meant to give us the energy to run away from lions–not to keep us going day by day. "Keep awake," Jesus says, but all of us will fall asleep at some point. We have to. Our bodies require it.

But we can practice being awake to the signs and presence of God that are all around us. We can keep filling our oil resources from the Source that never runs dry, through practices and disciplines that increase our capacity and strengthen us for carrying. We can "look to Jesus, the pioneer and perfector of our faith," as it says in the book of Hebrews, not so that we can become "like Jesus," but so that, like him, we can become all that God intends us to be. The Bridegroom that we await in another coming has not undergone a horrible transformation since his first coming, so that his compassion, his wisdom, his grace, his healing have all morphed into vengefulness, ruthlessness, score-keeping, and destruction. Rather his coming is more likely in every moment, all around us, in the face of the poor, in the cries of creation, in the pain of those who grieve and suffer. How sad, how tragic even, that we should be so dulled by the glitter and glitz and distractions of the world, or so paralyzed by fear, that we miss his coming in our midst.

The Bridegroom is the beloved, after all, who came to live among us to tell us that we too are beloved. God intends for us joy. God intends for us wholeness and beauty. God intends for us a wedding whose union creates blessing and new life. Thanks be to God! Amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

Liturgical Colors

Consideration of liturgical colors in the web site home page

http://www.ucc.org/worship/liturgies/liturgical-colors.html

The use of colors to differentiate liturgical seasons became a common practice in the Western church in about the fourth century. At first, usages varied considerably but by the 12th century Pope Innocent III systematized the use of five colors: Violet, White, Black, Red and Green. The Lutheran and Anglican churches that emerged from the Reformation retained the traditional colors but they disappeared entirely (along with most other ritual) from the worship of the Reformed churches. During the 20th century, the ecumenical Liturgical Movement prompted the rediscovery of ancient Christian ritual—including the traditional colors of the Western church. To these have been added Blue and Gold—colors that were used in some Western rites before the 12th century.

Briefly, the colors express emotions and ideas that are associated with each of the seasons of the liturgical year. Violet is the ancient royal color and therefore a symbol of the sovereignty of Christ. Violet is also associated with repentance from sin. White and Gold symbolize the brightness of day. Black is the traditional color of mourning in some cultures. Red evokes the color of blood, and therefore is the color of martyrs and of Christ's death on the Cross. Red also symbolizes fire, and therefore is the color of the Holy Spirit. Green is the color of growth. Blue is the color of the sky and in some rites honors Mary.

Congregations in the United Church of Christ have the freedom to use any combination of colors (or no particular colors) as seems best to them. The use of traditional colors, however, connects us to the wider Body of Christ and provides worship planners with visual aids that mark the transition from one season to another. Colors can be used in altar and pulpit decorations, vestments, banners and tapestries.

Advent

[colored_box bgColor="#bc369a" textColor="#000000"]Advent is a season of spiritual preparation for the celebration of the birth of Christ (Christmas) and looks forward to the future reign of Christ. Eschatological expectation rather than personal penitence is the central theme of the season. Advent is a preparation for rather than a celebration of Christmas, so Advent hymns should be sung instead of Christmas carols. The first Sunday of Advent is not the beginning of the Christmas season. The Christmas celebration begins on Christmas Eve and continues for the next "twelve days of Christmas."

Purple is normally Advent's liturgical color, associated both with the sovereignty of Christ and with penitence. Deep Blue is also sometimes used to distinguish the season from Lent. As the color of the night sky, Blue symbolizes Christ who in one ancient Advent song is called the "Dayspring" or source of day. As the color associated with Mary, Blue also reminds us that during Advent the church waits with Mary for the birth of Jesus.[/colored_box]

Christmas and Christmas Season

The Lectionary readings for Christmas and the following twelve days (culminating in the feast of the Epiphany) invite the church to reflect on the Incarnation (or embodiment) of God as a human being: "The Word became a human being and lived among us, and we have seen his glory...." (John 1:14). In Christ, God enters human history and identifies fully with the human condition.

The traditional colors of the season are White or Gold, symbolizing joy in the light of day.

Season after Epiphany

The season following Epiphany continues the theme established on Epiphany Day: the spread of the Good News of Christ from its source in the Jewish community to all nations on earth. The Lectionary therefore explores the mission of the church in the world. The theme of this season (along with the sequence of readings from the Gospel) continues in the season after Pentecost, so both seasons together can be called the "Time of the Church." The traditional liturgical color for both seasons, Green, is the color of growth.

Lent

The traditions of Lent are derived from the season's origin as a time when the church prepared candidates, or "catechumens," for their baptism into the Body of Christ. It eventually became a season of preparation not only for catechumens but also for the whole congregation. Self-examination, study, fasting, prayer and works of love are disciplines historically associated with Lent. Conversion—literally, the "turning around" or reorientation of our lives towards God—is the theme of Lent. Both as individuals and as a community, we look inward and reflect on our readiness to follow Jesus in his journey towards the cross. The forty days of Lent correspond to the forty-day temptation of Jesus in the wilderness and the forty-year journey of Israel from slavery to a new community.

On Ash Wednesday, ashes are placed on the foreheads of the congregation as a symbol that we have come from dust and one day will return to dust. It is one of many Lenten and Easter customs that remind us of our historical connection with Jewish tradition. With this sobering reminder of life's fragility, we begin a spiritual quest that continues until the Easter Vigil, when new members of the church are often baptised and the entire congregation joins in a reaffirmation of baptismal vows. Most of this time of preparation is symbolized by the color Violet, though the season is bracketed by the mourning Black of Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. As an alternative to Violet, some churches have begun to use brown, beige or gray (the colors of rough unbleached cloth like burlap) to reflect the season's mood of penitence and simplicity. The somber colors are a reminder of the unbleached "sackcloth" worn by mourners and penitents in the Jewish tradition.

Holy Week

During Holy Week, the congregation follows the footsteps of Jesus from his entry into Jerusalem (Palm/Passion Sunday) through the Last Supper (Maundy Thursday) to his death on the Cross (Good Friday). Red, the color of blood and therefore of martyrs, is the traditional color for Palm/Passion Sunday and the next three days of Holy Week. On Maundy Thursday, White or Gold symbolizes the church's rejoicing in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. But at the end of the Maundy Thursday celebration, the mood changes abruptly: all decorations are removed and the Holy Table is stripped bare. The church becomes as empty as a tomb. On Good Friday, either Black or Red is customary—although the use of no color at all is also appropriate. The Red of Holy Week is sometimes a deeper red than the brighter scarlet color associated with Pentecost.

Easter and Pentecost

Instead of finding a sealed tomb, the women who had come at dawn on Sunday are surprised by an angel who announces astonishing news: "Jesus has been raised from the dead" (Matt. 28:7). The heavenly messenger invites the mourners to see the empty tomb and then go and tell the disciples that the Crucified One is alive!

The season from Easter to Pentecost is also called the Great Fifty Days, a tradition inspired by the Jewish season of fifty days between Passover and Shavuot—the feast celebrating the giving of the Torah to Moses.

The liturgical color for this season is celebratory White or Gold. When the season ends on Pentecost Sunday, White is replaced with Red. This color reminds the congregation of fire—the symbol of the Holy Spirit. On Pentecost the Holy Spirit overpowered the barriers of culture and race. The first Sunday after Pentecost celebrates the Trinity, and the color again is White or Gold.

Season after Pentecost

This longest season of the liturgical year is a continuation of the "Time of the Church" that began on the Sunday after Epiphany. It explores the mission of the church and uses the color of Green, symbolizing growth. During this season, the Lectionary offers two options for readings from Hebrew Scripture: the first, topical option selects readings thematically related to the Epistle or Gospel texts. The second, sequential option reads through an entire book of Hebrew Scripture in sequence.

Other Holy Days and observances

Pentecostal Red is also the traditional color for Reformation Day on October 31. White or Gold is the color for All Saints Day on November 1 and is also an alternative to Green on the last Sunday after Pentecost—the feast of the Reign of Christ.

During other observances, the tradition is to use Red on commemorations of martyrs and other saints. As the color of the Holy Spirit, it is appropriate for ordinations. The colors of Christmas, White or Gold, are also customary on other feast days that celebrate the Incarnation or Resurrection of Christ (Holy Name, Baptism, Presentation, Annunciation, Visitation, Ascension and Transfiguration). Black for centuries was the traditional color for funerals, but in the past fifty years many liturgical churches have preferred to use White or Gold—the colors of Easter and therefore of Resurrection hope.

Looking Ahead

Sunday at Second Congregational Church:

Pre-Advent book sale 11:30 am - 12:30 pm in Webster Hall

5 pm Sunday Supper

7 pm Bible Conversation at the Lee-Clarks’

This week:

Monday, Nov. 10^th – Articles for this month’s Open Door are due!

Tuesday, Nov. 11^th - Trustees meeting at 7 pm in Room 6.

Tuesday, Nov. 11^th - Deacons meeting on the Clayton Room at 7 pm.

Thurs., Nov. 13^th - Special meeting of the Administrative Council, Clayton Room at 5:45 pm.

Friday, Nov. 14^th - A five week session of gentle Yoga will begin at 9:30 am. There will be $60 per person fee. Call Teresa King at (802) 733-5729 or email her at teresaking1@live.com.

Looking ahead:

Sunday, Nov. 16^th - Pre-Advent Book Sale, before & after worship

Sunday, Nov. 23^rd - Service of Memory & Hope. If you would like a candle lit in memory of a loved one, get names to Rebekah in the office by Nov. 20.

Friday, December 5^th & Saturday, December 6^th - Be sure to put the 66^th annual, fabulous, unique, and fun SNOWBALL BAZAAR on your calendars for, Friday, December 5^th 6:00-8:30 and Saturday, December 6^th, 9:30-3:00 !!!!

Please note: There will be no meetings or groups held in our building from December 1^st - December 6 ^th in preparation for the annual Snowball Bazaar!

Sample Videos

Vision Plan

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ouKSfH2PIR0

Uniquely UCC

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8rzSYvWH8A

"So Much Letting Go..."-- Revelation 7:9-17, Matthew 5:1-12-- November 2, 2104

My heart goes out to the Rev. Becky Withington, who is pastor of Everett United Church of Christ, about 6 miles south of Marysville, WA. Marysville-Pilchuck High School was the scene of yet another school shooting a couple weeks ago, where 4 young people, including the shooter, died. Everett UCC celebrated All Saints Sunday last Sunday with the reading of names and lighting of candles for those who have died, as we do during our Service of Memory and Hope; but Rev. Withington says, "When we observe All Saints/All Souls Sunday, usually our grief is tempered by time and by rich memories of long lives faithfully lived out. This time our anguish is fresh and raw." (ucc.org)

While Everett UCC has a few Marysville residents, none of them had students in the high school. Still groups of students and former students attended the service at Everett last Sunday morning. The Rev. Mimi Lane, the chaplain at the hospital where the wounded students were brought, preached the sermon. "The prayers were prayers for dealing with what seems unreal in this tragedy [she said] and for those injured, killed, and their families and community. The choir sang ‘Carry the Light,’ which was so profoundly right that morning: ‘...in this world of darkness we are given light, hope for all the dying. How will they know that Jesus loves them? Carry the light. Go and tell the children they are precious in His sight. Carry the light.’ So perfect for the morning, [Rev. Lane said]...Lots of tears. So perfect [for] when we just don’t understand."

So, at least 4 more souls–even the shooter, eventually, I believe-- added to the Light. And all those who died of ebola this week...and all those who died of hunger...and all those beaten or stoned to death ...those killed by bombs or bullets or in plane crashes...those who succumbed to cancer or other diseases...those who had simply lived the length of their days and went Home.

"They will hunger no more, [John says in the Book of Revelation] and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes." Words of comfort from a book in the Bible more widely known for its uncomforting words of destruction and damnation. "God himself will be with them," it says toward the end of the book. "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more..." We read these words of comfort at funerals.

But we know, as one writer points out, that all loss that deserves notice and demands comfort comes not only from death, but from many places. "It comes in leave-takings, [he writes]as we depart for a new job and home and leave beloved friends and colleagues behind. It comes as you slowly lose a loved one to Alzheimer’s. It comes in the loss of employment or dignity. It comes from struggles with illness both of body and mind. It comes from the exhaustion of caring for a special needs child [or an elderly parent] and the occasional recognition of all the things given up in order to offer that care. It comes from disappointment at home or work or school, of dreams deferred or hopes dashed." (David Lose, inthemeantime, 10/27/14)

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled....Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

Jesus says to those who are not usually thought of as blessed, "You are blessed." Not "you will be blessed in some future time," but now, you are blessed. The blessing doesn’t immunize them from suffering or grief–that is part of every life–but it plants a seed of blessing that will indeed blossom in response to love. Like the promise of God’s wiping away every tear, so these blessings create a new reality. A faithful promise can do that. One dad tells of his promise to his children that after dinner they will play board games. When he arrives home from work, the board is laid out, the pieces are at the ready. The promise creates the reality. Or the promise to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in want, until death shall part us. It is a promise that creates a new reality, a promise to be remembered every day of a marriage, though we know and acknowledge with deep sadness that those human promises cannot always be kept. But it is different from just "living together," without those solemn promises.

It’s hard in the midst of grief or loss to imagine anything different, any newness; and so the promises of God –to wipe away every tear, to bless those who mourn, those who are persecuted–those promises are important to be reminded of because they create future possibili-ties not defined by the past. (David Lose, op cit.) Those promises are that God sees and knows and accompanies us, no matter how deep our grief or pain or loss or disorientation; and, by the way, it’s alright to struggle with this, to doubt in the midst of your loss. Martin Luther, the reformer, listed "struggle" as one of the marks of the church, alongside preaching, sacraments, and others. Doubt is testament to the depth of the struggle to take God seriously.

Last Sunday at Everett UCC in Washington, one of the hymns they sang was ‘Now Thank We All Our God,’ [which we also will sing at the end our service today]. The words to that hymn were "written by Pastor Martin Rinkart in 1647," Everett’s preacher of the day said. "In the midst of the Thirty Years War, when everyone in his walled city was dying of hunger and illness (even his wife died) and he was performing up to 40 funerals a day because one of the other clergy left the town and the two others died, he wrote this lovely poem for his children to remember God’s love for them. We dedicated this song to MPHS (Marysville Pilchuck High School) with hopes for healing and comfort."

"Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices, who wondrous things has done, in whom this world rejoices. Who, from our mothers’ arms, has blessed us on our way with countless gifts of love, and still is ours today." No wonder there were lots of tears.

Whatever loss you’re experiencing today, whatever saint’s face is in your heart’s eye today, know that God’s promises are to be trusted. God is not far away, disinterested in your pain and sorrow; God is right here in our midst, even inviting us to take and drink of God’s very self, to carry the Light and Love and Word made flesh in our flesh. Take and eat. Take and drink. This is for you and for the whole world. Thanks be to God! Amen, and amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

"The Next Reformation"-- Exodus 34:1-12, Matthew 22:34-46-- Oct. 26, 2014

One can only imagine the racket it made–a mighty pounding on the great door of the Church of All Saints in Wittenberg, Saxony. The Castle Church, as it was also called, held one of the greatest collections of holy relics-- purportedly "including vials of the milk of the Virgin Mary, straws from the manger [of Jesus], and the body of one of the innocents massacred by King Herod." [wikipedia] It was said that if a penitent believer came to the church and paid a fee called an indulgence, it would guarantee relief of their souls from purgatory.

It was in protest of this and many other practices that on All Hallows Eve, Oct. 31, 1517, Martin Luther dramatically nailed his 95 Theses on the Wittenberg church door and then followed up with a letter to the bishops. Just a couple years shy of 500 years ago this Friday.

Of course, the Protestant Reformation didn’t begin on Oct. 31, 1517, nor did it end the next year nor was Martin Luther the only one protesting and calling for reform. The Reformation had quietly yet relentlessly been building in various parts of Europe, and it took on a life of its own beyond Luther and John Calvin and Ulrich Zwingli. And not only did "Protestant churches" then take shape, but the Roman Catholic Church itself underwent great reforms.

"About every 500 years," the retired Anglican Bishop Mark Dyer observed, "the Church feels compelled to hold a giant rummage sale...[when] the empowered structures of institutionalized Christianity, whatever they may be at that time, become an intolerable [hard casing] that must be shattered in order that renewal and new growth may occur." [Phyllis Tickle, The Great Emergence, p. 16] "We are living in and through one of those five-hundred-year sales," the bishop concludes.

Historian Phyllis Tickle calls this period that we are going through The Great Emergence, and the reformation of the church is only one aspect of a much larger "re-formation" of society and the globe. You’ve probably noticed it. The rise of global militant Islam, reaching the peaceful streets of Ottawa, Canada this week. The rise of sea waters, threatening the very existence of island nations and re-drawing coastal maps, super-storms, record-breaking droughts, all part of the massive climate change. The growing, gaping disparity between the ultra-wealthy few and the increasingly restless majority poor and middle-class. The technological revolution that has literally changed the nature of global community, let alone how you communicate with your children and grandchildren. So, of course, the church–Second Congregational Church–is not and certainly won’t be your parents’ or grandparents’ church any more.

Mike Piazza, our coach from the Center for Progressive Renewal, told us about a young man in his church in Atlanta. Todd’s grandmother–his mother’s mother-- died, and so he traveled to Philadelphia to join his family in mourning her death and celebrating her life. While there, he learned that his other grandmother–his father’s mother–had also just died. He e-mailed Mike, who was away from home on one of his consulting jobs, with the news, and Mike e-mailed back his condolences and support. I think he may also have tried to talk with him on the phone, but in the midst of both of their crazy circumstances, they were never able to speak more than briefly. So Mike then posted on the church’s Facebook page his concerns for Todd and asking his church community to keep him in their thoughts and prayers. Instantly, support and connection surrounded Todd, so that when he finally returned home to Atlanta, he posted on his Facebook page his thanks and appreciation that he had felt so loved and supported by his church family in his family’s time of loss. Up until that time, Todd had not seen his pastor or other members of his church family face to face, and yet he was overwhelmed by the love and support he felt from them. The church is re-forming.

And yet, what must be at the heart of the church, the church that is worth re-forming and revitalizing, are those two "great relationships," as Marcus Borg calls them–love of God and love of neighbor. "‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ one of the Pharisees, a lawyer, asked Jesus. He said to him, "‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets."

Jesus knew that the law was not about rules but about love. The reformation of the church is less about technique and technology but essentially about love, and biblical love is less about warm, fuzzy feelings but rather, as Douglas Hare puts it, "stubborn, unwavering commitment." [cited by Kate Huey in weeklyseeds, 10/26/14] What is the setting, the orientation, of our hearts, what do we choose to do, to convey the love of God? Nadia Bolz-Weber, a Lutheran pastor of the Emergent Church movement, says that we are to love our enemies, but we don’t have to mean it. What she means is that we don’t have to "feel loving" toward our enemies, we just have to treat them lovingly. [onbeing interview with Krista Tippett] Kate Huey writes about the witness and testimony of two older women in her church who tithed to their church. Inspired by them, but a little nervous about making such a financial commitment, Kate decided to give it a try–to commit to giving a tenth of her income to the church. She found that while she did have to make some adjustments, instead of resenting her church, what she found was that her love for her church grew.

"Love God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength; and your neighbor as yourself–on these two hang all the law and the prophets," Jesus said. "Justice is love made public," Cornell West said. Out of the Protestant Reformation came reformers and the re-formation of the church, but scholar of church history and current trends Diana Butler Bass urges us that "it’s time to put the protest back in Protestantism." ["A Great Awakening," Patheos, 2011] While we in the Protestant church have enjoyed our status as a majority, that is no longer the case, and Bass urges us to "rediscover the courageous part of [our] identity too long hidden under a veneer of cultural success." What if we were to "start a church-based movement to challenge two things[she wonders]–bad government and cruel capitalism?" The size of government isn’t the issue she says; it’s whether it’s good government or bad government. Does it work for the common good, or does it simply serve the elite? Is our capitalism based on share-holder profits alone, or might we develop a nurturing capitalism that "recognizes the diversity of our environmental, spiritual, social, communal capital as part of a universal economy of human flourishing...where financial capital is only a small part of interconnected web of capital that nurtures life for all instead of amassing resources for the few." What if the Protestant church took on that challenge, coming out of our love of God and love of neighbor? "On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets," Jesus said.

Just as the Protestant Reformation didn’t start and end on Oct. 31, 1517, so too has this current upheaval and necessary re-formation of the church been coming for a long time, and it is further along than we may be aware. Did you know that Second Congregational Church is one of 5 churches left in the Southwest Association, one of 23 in the whole Vermont Conference,* that can currently afford a full-time pastor? Mike Piazza noted that last year our average weekly attendance was the lowest it’s been in several years. It might just be a one-time thing, he said, but two years in a row is definitely to be taken seriously. Since people don’t attend Sunday worship with the same frequency they once did, nor do they support it at the same level they once did, the number of people who consider our church "their church" must increase if we are to continue to maintain a vital and significant ministry in our community. We must commit ourselves to communicating the love of God to people in a way that they have a chance to receive it–not just in the language and music and customs that we on the "inside" find meaningful. First-time visitors must be treated as VIPs, for we not only want them but need them to help us re-form our church to better carry out God’s ministry of love and justice in the world in the 21^st century. In her address at Andover Newton Theological School’s spring convocation last May, Diana Butler Bass urged the ministers and other religious leaders to "be active seekers of new connections and not to [just] wait for people to show up, especially young adults... If you keep dawdling, [she said], you die." [News from the Hill, Annual Report 2014, p. 12] Being a disciple, after all, means being open to serious re-formation. You might even say that re-formation is at the essence of being human [Karoline Lewis, op cit.]–our bodies re-form every 7 years, we re-form when we take on a new relationship or a new job. We re-form after we lose a job or our health or a loved one.

As I talked with and listened to Mike Piazza last week and with our small group of folks who also met with him, I found my excitement and energy level rising. He was affirming of much of what we’re already doing and thinking about, but he was able to ask us questions like, "Is there a First Congregational Church in Bennington?" And when we told him there was, but that we were the only United Church of Christ in Bennington, he said, "then I was wondering why you’re holding on to the name ‘Second’. Why not, First United Church of Christ of Bennington, or something more descriptive, like Hope United Church of Christ?" Wow. Why not? What if we were Hope United Church of Christ? How might we live into that name?

"Reformation can be exciting!" writes one Lutheran minister. "It can also be exhausting. It’s exciting when you find yourself witnessing change and newness and hope...And something extraordinary comes out on the other side. But it’s exhausting when you find yourself observing, even experiencing in your own self, resistance and suspicion and rejection." [Karoline Lewis, Dear Working Preacher, 10/26/14] I would also add to exhausting a certain level of grieving... a grieving of a necessary letting go of customs and language and music that have been so nourishing for so long. Mike Piazza says, "you can always have your way if you have enough ways." If you’re open to a number of ways, you can always have your way.

"Love God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength; and your neighbor as yourself." It does all come back to love. How do we reach out in love to a neighborhood and a world desperately in need of it? "Reformation is a state of being," that Lutheran pastor says.

*[I mis-spoke on Sunday, saying we were one of 5 full-time ministries in the Conference.]

"Reformation cannot just be a looking back–by its very definition it demands a vision for the future." [Lewis, op cit.]

As our reading from Hebrew Scripture this morning told us, the story of Moses comes to an ending on a mountaintop. After "40 years," that is, as long as it took, a rag-tag band of slaves was at last re-formed into something like one people, and up on top of a mountain overlooking what had become for them "the Promised Land," Moses their leader rests his eyes upon their final destination and then goes to his final rest in an unmarked and unknown grave. It is the passing of the generations. Moses led the people up until this point, but it was for a new generation to take them into the Promised Land.

We heard the story last week of the Jewish sage Choni who found a man planting a carob tree that would take 70 years to bear fruit, but he was doing it because he knew that the fruitful land he came into had been planted by his forebears. Similarly, Martin Luther was asked, if the world were to end tomorrow, what would he do? "I would plant a tree," he replied. All of us are planting the seeds of tomorrow by what we do today. Many of us will not cross over into that Promised Land – that "new form" of the church --ourselves, but we can trust in God’s vision for the people and for the next generation to walk on, as we plant the seeds of love and hope and justice and mercy that will eventually blossom and bear fruit in a new day and time. In the company of all the saints who have gone before us, and all those who will come after us, let us go forward, rejoicing. Amen, and amen.

Rev. Mary H. Lee-Clark

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