Life can sometimes feel like it’s one transition after another. Whether big or small, these transitions can be both exciting and challenging. There’s no one right way to get through them, but often it’s helpful to share our experiences, learn from one another, and find support for the journey. Such was the case on Saturday, April 20th when these folks pictured below came together for prayer and meditation, sharing and discernment, faith formation and food fellowship. Rev. Matt Carriker, the retreat facilitator, taught the group how to use the Quaker practice of Clearness Committees to understand liminal spaces in our lives as well as Lectio Divina, a contemplative practice of reading Scripture for deeper, more personal meanings. Through conversation and spiritual practices, the retreat participants came away with various tools for navigating transitions in their lives as well as a few new friends for the road ahead.
I felt pretty strange describing my sabbatical before I left. I’ve always enjoyed nature but camping and environmentalism were hardly defining interests. These are just some of the things people said: “Why are you so interested in trees all of the sudden? And why Ireland? Didn’t you go there a few years ago? You say, you’re planning to do yard work during some of the time? That’s the last thing I would do during vacation time.”
I can understand why people responded this way. I didn’t know why I craved green things so much. I just did. My body and soul seemed to want green in an almost visceral way. It didn’t seem to matter whether I was gardening in my backyard, devouring books about the science of forests, or biking though the green hills of Ireland.
I’ve returned from my time away with a deep appreciation for green things; not just because of their physical beauty or usefulness, but because of what they teach us about the nature of life. I never realized that forests are comprised of complex networks of organisms which together have an essential role in the climate. For example, did you know that the size, shape and type of trees growing in a given area can determine the temperature and water level? And apparently, huge trees depend on the tiny threads of an underground network of fungi to send and receive information from one another. Different species of trees will actually warn each other about approaching pests and diseases! And some trees work together for years to keep their parent trees alive if they’re damaged. There’s so much more I could say about how incredible forests are. If you want to learn more, check out “The Hidden Life of Trees” by Peter Wohlleben or “To Speak For the Trees” by Diana Beresford-Kroeger.
You know the old saying: “You can’t see the forest for the trees?” It means not being able to see the big picture because of being overwhelmed by the immediate concerns that surround us and block our view. I’d say that’s a pretty good description of my mental state before the sabbatical. In our chaotic world, with its 24 hour news cycle, it’s been difficult to hold on to hope while tragedy after tragedy arises to demand our attention until we feel utterly surrounded by suffering. It has felt like unbridled self-interest, violence and bigotry have gained the upper hand, especially over the last several years.
Little did I know that the trees could help me find the forest and see the big picture again. Like Hildegard of Bingen, I heard God calling me recognize her in the greenness all around me regardless of what else was happening in the world and to notice that my soul was already returning to its green and life-filled state, like a plant greening up after long-delayed rain.
What inspires me so much about green things is that they clearly demonstrate the benefits of valuing diversity and interdependence over competition and artificial homogeneity. I don’t think it’s an accident that some of the oldest, most natural systems on earth resemble the spiritual values of most world religions: “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Deuteronomy 6:5, Leviticus 19:18, Mark 12:31, Matthew 7:21, 19:19, 22:39, Luke 10). “None of you truly believes until you wish for others what you wish for yourself” (Sahih Muslim, Book 1, Number 72). Sounds like a blueprint for diversity and interdependence to me.
Thanks to the Dennis Lin Fund, Sunday Fellowship was able to celebrate forty years of ministry in style. Gorgeous outfits, elaborate decorations (complete with a red carpet), enthusiastic dancing, a photo booth, karaoke and delicious food under a tent in the Garden made the SF Prom a day to remember. A toast to the members and friends of Sunday Fellowship throughout the years on whose shoulders we now stand. Dennis, we know you would have loved it!
Setting the sceneDrinks and Hors D’Oeuvres in the GardenTime to Party!Country Road, Take me Home!Lola Came!Time to Party!Million Dollar Smile!A toast to Sunday FellowshipTo Sunday Fellowship!To Sunday Fellowship!To Sunday Fellowship!To Sunday Fellowship!To Sunday Fellowship!To Sunday Fellowship!To Sunday Fellowship!To Sunday Fellowship!To Sunday Fellowship!To Sunday Fellowship!To forty years of Sunday Fellowship!
During this time you may not have given much thought to what’s happening in our church building. However, several folks have been busy improving things!
Susan Coppock has made our lower level bathrooms much more beautiful and functional. This involved changing plumbing and adding art, window treatments, and furniture. Then David Frink added new “touchless” features throughout the building to increase the safety of using the bathrooms at this time. Take a look!
In this season, we
remember how Jesus is baptized and begins his ministry, and how he invites
others into discipleship. We remember
how we were baptized, many of us, and how Jesus invites us into discipleship.
But what does this mean, discipleship? How could we really do it? What does it
mean to follow Jesus, or to live a life faithful to God?
Our scriptures offer us two lovely answers today. Both of them are worth a longer examination, if you want to take home your bulletin and look them up. In the book of Isaiah, we find a God frustrated by their people. People pretend to care about me, God says, and they pretend to care about my ways. But at the same time, they are oppressing each other, and fighting with one another. (This may sound a bit familiar; you may have witnessed some of this in the news recently. Times haven’t changed so very much.)
God says, if these people who talk so much about me were really interested in my ways, they would be undoing injustice, and sharing their bounty with those who really need it, and recognizing everyone as kin. Only when they do these things will their light shine forth, and their healing spring up. Only then will they feel my presence, right there, alongside them.
In the gospel of Matthew, Jesus, preaching what is known as the Sermon on the Mount, offers a similar message. He knows that his audience has heard the law of Moses, and the wisdom of the prophets. You have probably heard at least the basics of it, too: love God, and your neighbor as yourself. But too often even those who know these guidelines do not follow them; or at least, we do not follow them with our whole hearts. Jesus tells us: you already have everything you need to follow me. You know what you need to know, you are who God created you to be. So, be who you really are. Salt seasons all it touches. Light brightens all it touches. You were blessed to bless others, so be salty, be bright, be yourself, and bless everyone who comes near you.
This church has taken
seriously our calling to love God and neighbor, to bless others – even those we
don’t know. As part of our response, we
give a portion of our budget —
recently, 11% — to organizations we
call Mission Partners. And along with
our wealth, we share other things with them, too: time, labor, prayer.
I give thanks to all the folks who are leaders in this work of connection, several here among us today. Two of them will now offer us a glimpse into why they do what they do…
Barbara: This church has a long history with Open Table. Gordon Fraser was its faithful champion along with others when we first came to WCUC 16 years ago. When Jesus says, “feed the hungry” there is not a lot of confusion or spin around what he means. Community suppers in Maynard and Concord offer weekly healthy meals and the chance to socialize. The food pantry, operating in what was formerly the Aubuchon Hardware building on Main Street in Maynard, serves upwards of 80-100 families on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Our monthly food donations are part of providing that need. Local farms, businesses, and the Boston Food Bank fill in the rest, and the team of volunteers to pull off this feat is awesome. There are so many pieces to a community resource like this.
We all know
about housing costs in this area. Many
people who work even full time have trouble managing rent/mortgage, utilities,
not to mention the possible need for child care or medical bills and paying
back student loans. Helping families
with food frees up money to meet some of these other bills. If you are like me, the emails, letters and
phone calls keep coming—so many worthy causes, so many needs. I get overwhelmed.
I have needed to find my place of radical solidarity. I think this is what Jesus calls us to, to partner with the hungry, the homeless, the displaced, the refugees, with those who are struggling. When I worked in community mental health that was my place of radical solidarity. In retirement Open Table connects me again with people who are struggling, with job loss, illness, family problems, low wages—all of which impact their ability to provide basic needs for their family. It is also a place to welcome people new to this country, working to get settled. For my own spiritual health I have needed to get out of my bubble.
I am
grateful to God for the presence of Open Table in our communities and for my opportunity
to partner with Open Table.
Constance: Why I support Habitat for Humanity
Habitat for Humanity is international, at one point present in more than 100 countries.
Habitat for Humanity is a binding national network—across social, political, monetary, and religious lines.
Habitat for Humanity is regional and local, sometimes at work in your own town.
Habitat for Humanity is cooperative—“each one, teach one” is an unspoken motto.
Habitat for Humanity is young people baking and selling their wares to raise money for a nearby project.
Habitat for Humanity is a team of women bonding over a wide variety of tasks during “Women Build” Week.
Habitat for Humanity is celebrating a 75th birthday in grand style, challenging friends and family to raise money at the time of the local affiliate’s annual gala.
Habitat for Humanity is an agnostic Jew and a proud atheist (nephew of two Lutheran pastors) bonding as they dig foundation trenches.
Habitat for Humanity is learning humility—being just one more team member when the team leader may be 1/3 of your age.
Habitat for Humanity is being amazed by Jimmy Carter’s steadfast dedication to a cause he did not found but has supported more visibly than anyone for decades.
Habitat for Humanity is climbing tall ladders to wash windows, getting up on a roof that turns out to be steeper (and higher) than it had seemed, wielding new tools.
Habitat for Humanity is humbling—patiently washing paint brushes, picking up trash, sorting screws.
Habitat for Humanity is moving 1000 concrete blocks across a London worksite because they had been delivered to the wrong spot and were in the way.
Habitat for Humanity is replacing 1000 bolts in fencing because the wrong size had been delivered but everything had to be finished by the end of the Jimmy Carter Week in Vác, Hungary—and someone had to make the switch when the correct bolts arrived.
Habitat for Humanity is, in the words of founder Millard Fuller: “Love in the Mortar Joints,” “A Simple, Decent Place to Live,” “The Theology of the Hammer, “More than Houses.”
Habitat for Humanity speaks to me because it pulls me out of the isolating intellectual writer’s world where I spend too much time into physical partnership with people in need—and because Habitat for Humanity can use time and talent as well as dimes and dollars.
As Jesus begins his public ministry, he takes a stroll by the Sea of Galilea. While he is walking, he spots two brothers, Simon and Andrew, going about their daily work, casting a net into the sea. Jesus calls out: “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” Immediately, Simon and Andrew leave everything behind, to follow Jesus.
Jesus walks on, with his two brand-new disciples in tow. While they are walking, Jesus sees two other brothers, James and John, going about their daily work, mending their nets. Jesus calls out to them – this time, we don’t know what he said. What we do know is that these two brothers also leave their lives behind, to become disciples of Jesus. Now they’re a group of five.
Like many biblical stories, this one leaves a great deal unsaid. I have a lot of questions. Have Simon, Andrew, James, or John ever even met Jesus before? Did they have an initial discipleship interview, so that they could learn more about the position, and he could learn more about them? Are fisherfolk the only people available to be recruited for discipleship by the sea of Galilee, or does Jesus have a particular fondness for people in that profession? Is there a reason Jesus chooses two sets of brothers? What about Jesus compels these four to give up their livelihoods, and their families, to follow him?
There are a lot of holes in this story. There are a lot of spaces that require our imagination. Perhaps the most confusing part of this story, though, is Jesus’ invitation itself. “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” What’s that, now? Why would anyone want to be forced to catch other people in a net? We can give thanks that there seems to be only nets, not hooks, used in fishing in this story. Still, what a terrible way to describe the role of disciple, the work of ministry. What a terrible way to describe the wonderful tasks of showing forth God’s good news and inviting folks into God’s grace.
“Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” I’ve never really liked this invitation from Jesus. But this year I heard it differently. Maybe it’s because this fall we talked so much about being bound together in love, and binding the world together in love. What if Jesus saw Simon and Andrew casting a net into the sea, and he thought: that’s what God needs. Folks to cast out a web that others can catch onto, to save themselves from drowning in despair or loneliness or luxury or want. What if Jesus saw James and John, mending their nets, and he thought: that’s what God needs. Folks who are mending what binds us together, so that we can find one another and God again, so that we can be tied together in holy community.
The story of our ministry this year, and every year, is a story of webs and nets and ties. It’s a story of connections.
This year we have continued the work of connecting with one another across demographics and ministry areas and organizations, with programs like Sunday Fellowship Food & Fun, and interactive services like Maundy Thursday, with combined choirs, and with community partnerships.
This year we have connected through giving. Folks gave with extraordinary generosity to our annual appeal. We gave $43,000, 11% of our budget, to our mission partners, as well as in-kind gifts for Open Table, Prison Gift Bags, Minuteman Arc Holiday gifts, and Mitten Tree items.
This year we have continued to explore and expand our dedication to inclusion. We discussed White Fragility. We kept working on our worship resources. We added an automatic door opener to our main entrance. We tried more inclusive words for well-known hymns. Stick around for Annual Meeting, when we hope to expand our Open and Affirming Statement.
This year we have connected through acts of care. We supported one another through losses and memorial services and surgeries. We have delivered flowers and made visits and knit shawls and written cards and welcomed visitors. We have even baked pies. And each week, folks offer rides to church, prayers, a listening ear.
This year we have connected by through acts of service, small and large. Folks showed up to water and weed and prune the garden throughout the year. We worshipped in the garden all summer, thanks to a dedicated crew (especially Andrew). David Frink and others have fixed and installed countless items. All year, folks have showed up to move chairs, and platforms, and bell tables; to serve food and set the communion table. Each Sunday, there are people making coffee, handing out bulletins, singing, reading, helping with Sunday School, counting the offering. The Schummers even designed and installed a new name tag holder!
Maybe there have been days where there were too many items on your list of church to-dos, and you wondered: why am I doing this?
I suspect that for most of us, it was because one day, someone, or something, whispered in our ear: Come, and be part of it. There is a place in God’s great community for you. And not only that: you can be a caster of nets. You can be a mender of nets. You can be a bringer of good news. You can become part of the binding, part of the weave, part of the stretch, part of the strength, that reaches out into the world for others to grab onto.
Because all those acts of service combine through the power of the Holy Spirit into something amazing that none of us could have put together by ourselves, that looks something like all ages and abilities giant uno games; the wonder of a child; the joy of finding a place, a home, a friend.
Thank you all, for what
you have given to West Concord Union Church. Through your ministry, we have
witnessed the glory of God here among us. Thanks be to God.
On January 12th, we heard three members reflect on why they do what they do at WCUC.
From Ellie Garvey:
My father used to tell me I had an affliction, like my mother. He called it “the rising arm syndrome.” It manifests itself when I hear the words, “Would anyone be willing to…?” or “Could someone…? And my volunteer arm rises up. I don’t consider this an affliction. Helping and volunteering are part of who I am, and I like it that way.
West Concord Union Church has no shortage of volunteer opportunities, and I have thrown myself into the community with abandon. In addition to singing and ringing in the senior and bell choirs, I hold an elected position on the Worship and Welcome Ministry. I have served on this ministry for 6 years, and that means my time is up. In accordance with the church’s constitution, I have to step down. While I am a bit sad about that, it does give me the opportunity to tell you about everything that I love about serving on this ministry.
Most of what you see up here in the sanctuary on Sunday mornings is under the auspices of the Worship and Welcome Ministry. We guide the ushers and greeters, we prepare and serve communion, we assist with Joys and Concerns, and we review Sunday worship services to improve on our dedication to making them welcoming and inclusive. In the summer, we coordinate the outdoor services, and we are in charge of hospitality and fellowship, from coffee hour to funeral receptions. And I love all of that. My favorite parts are serving communion and helping with fellowship events. And the best part of the Ministry is the team of leaders that I have had the privilege of working with.
The first time I set up the communion table was way back when I was on the board of Deacons, the precursor to Worship and Welcome. As I laid out the bread and juice, it occurred to me that I was setting Jesus’ table. And that was a pretty cool thing to be doing! For those of you who are wondering if you could serve on Worship and Welcome in the future, the answer is yes! Please speak to me after worship today and I will be happy to fill you in on the details of this vital service to the church.
It has been a privilege to serve WCUC in this capacity for six years, and I thank God for this community of volunteers. I’ll take a year off, and then we’ll see where my rising arm takes me next.
From John Fossett:
I joined WCUC in 1988, after being introduced by one Maynard Forbes. What I found here was a vibrant church, teeming with vitality and activity, and it has been, and surely will continue to be, a congregation that is a living affirmation of God’s call to service, providing innumerable opportunities for each of us to serve the church in some way. Some such roles require an ongoing commitment throughout the year, while others are those I call one-off or time limited commitments. Over the past several years, I have focused my efforts on the latter, serving as a member and Chair of the Investment Committee, as a greeter, usher, and coffee host, and helping with outside grounds cleanup and periodic setup for special events. One of my most favorite “roles” has been to provide rides to church for Annie and Fran, not easily able to get themselves here otherwise.
Over the years, service to church has given me pause to contemplate my formative days at the Wellesley Village Church, and how my late mother, Jane Fossett, taught me the power of individuals to help others through a helping hand or other simple acts of kindness. Her work was quite similar to what I see here: A quiet, yet abiding concern for the well-being of others, answering His call. Jane would be so pleased to know that I had re-established a faith connection with a place that shares her values and that pursues God’s call for us to serve others.
One of the major reasons I pursue volunteer activities at WCUC is the satisfaction I derive from the joy of strengthening personal connections with others, not only while greeting or ushering or hosting coffee hour, but also during the enjoyable rides to church with Annie and Fran. Any of these time-limited roles may be perfect for those of you unable to take on longer term or ongoing commitments, but wanting to serve the church in some way.
From Joanna Swain:
I’ve been participating in our Sunday Fellowship ministry for adults of all abilities since our family moved to Concord – more than 12 years now. In fact, the SF program is one of the key reasons we visited this church, and also why we never visited another! My involvement in Sunday Fellowship has ebbed and flowed through the years as my other commitments have come and gone. Sometimes I just go to a biweekly worship services and help with whatever job needs doing, like collating music sheets, writing down joys and concerns, or passing out name tags. Other times, I have helped to organize a specific event, like a dance complete with DJ and a photo booth. Recently, I’ve been sitting on the SF Team, along with several others from within our church and some from other faith communities. The SF team meets every couple of months to review past events, plan for new initiatives, and generally serve as a sounding board to Melissa Tustin, who is our paid and incredibly qualified SF Director.
Why is SF so important to me? To tell the truth, most of us here at WCUC are pretty good at presenting the best of ourselves on a Sunday morning. We are buttoned down and pretty self-contained, am I right?. But SF worship services are different. They are really “come as you are”. You can’t sing on key? Who cares! Did you have a fight with someone you live with? Who hasn’t! The services are rambunctious and sweet, with big emotions, and God’s love is palpable. I praise God for our Sunday Fellowship program, and the opportunity to participate and help make it happen.