Blog: Random Thoughts on Sunday's Sermon

Below are some random thoughts on this coming Sunday's message.  We hope they create a little time in your day to reflect on the journey of faith and life.  If they spur any thoughts, quotes, or experiences, please share them.  God moves among us as we share with each other.

One of the most beautiful aspects of adoptive parenting is the gift of observation. Unlike a biological parent, I truly have no idea what gifts and talents my children may possess. My husband and I must observe and listen and make space to discover who our children are.

Will they have musical and literary talent like my husband and myself? Or will we find ourselves on the sidelines of a soccer field, trying to figure out what the whole sports thing is all about? Will I have to learn the intricacies of the visual art world or will we be raising future engineers? I have no idea. But it's fun to watch!

For example, our son is a junior cartographer. He is six years old and he has a subway map of New York in his head. If we have ridden a train, he knows it. He can tell you how to get from our apartment to the Bronx Zoo, Central Park, JFK airport, church, school, Brooklyn, and any other place he has been once. He didn't get that skill from me! And I would only know it by observing him every day.

On Sunday we looked at Psalm 150 and I brought a bunny up to the front to "praise the Lord" for us. The children noticed immediately that bunnies cannot speak. The idea is absurd. Yet the text commands every breathing thing to praise the Lord. How does a bunny praise the Lord? By being the best bunny he can be. By eating grass, hopping, and delivering Easter eggs. (Thanks to one of my lovely Sunday morning kids for that last one!)

How do we praise the Lord? Sometimes we look at ourselves and other brothers and sisters in Christ and we forget to observe. We assume that singing hymns and listening to sermons are what makes us all praise the Lord. But what if we all have unique ways of bringing glory to God? What if hymns aren't for everyone? What if we find our most spiritual experiences outside of the church building?

Well, my experience as an adoptive mother tells me that that is okay. We are all adopted into God's family through Christ. He asks us, "What do you love? What do you do out of pure joy?"

Perhaps this is our greatest act of worship.

Let everything that breathes praise the Lord. Psalm 150:6

Posted by Mandy Meisenheimer, Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Yesterday, as the front of the sanctuary overflowed with little ones during the children’s message, I chose to watch the adults rather than the children.

Mandy probed the theme “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord” (Psalm 150:6). She asked the question, with a cute bunny rabbit beside her, how could a bunny praise the Lord? As the children gave their answers (some of which were hilarious), there was a sparkle in every adult’s eye and a smile on everyone’s face. In that moment I recalled Dostoevsky’s line, “the soul is healed by children.” 

If anyone ever wonders why we incorporate children in our worship service, along with the attendant noise and chaos it sometimes brings, it is because we need them there as much as they need to be present. God uses them to bring a smile to our faces and heal our souls.

Posted by Rev Michael Bos, Monday, April 8, 2013

1? 3? 20? 50? If you answered 50 you are correct! In the church calendar the Easter season is 50 days, which takes us up to the Feast of the Ascension. During Easter we shed the dark purples from Lent, we tuck away the black from Good Friday and we decorate with white or gold. White and gold are symbols of the resurrection and represent our uplifted spirits. It reminds me of the resurrection stained glass window in the back of the sanctuary. Christ is in white cloth and there is an empty tomb in the background. Every Tuesday when I am ministering to our soup kitchen community I imagine the window whispering words of hope to our Tuesday congregation “Hope is still alive, new life is possible.”

Hope IS still alive and new life IS possible. For 50 days we get to remind ourselves this. Whatever you are going through in your life, consider waking up each morning and reminding yourself “Hope is alive, new life is possible.” Where you have lost hope, I pray God’s spirit whisper words of hope to you over the next 50 days. May you experience new life that the Easter season promises. 

Posted by Rev. Jes Kast-Keat, Thursday, April 4, 2013

In the wake of the joyous gathering we experienced on Easter Sunday, I am filled with peace and gratitude this week. We did the wave in church! We sang the Hallelujah chorus! We celebrated our risen savior together.

This prayer captures my feelings of elation this Easter week:

(from The Worship Sourcebook)

Brightness of God's glory and exact image of God's person,
Whom death could not conquer nor the tomb imprison,
As you have shared our frailty in human flesh,
Help us to share your immortality in the Spirit.
Let no shadow of the grave terrify us
And no fear of darkness turn our hearts from you.
Reveal yourself to us this day and all our days, 
As the first and the last, the living one,
Our immortal Savior and Lord. Amen.

Isn't that beautiful?

May you find the brightness of God's glory in your life this week. As spring unfolds in the city, may you see new life and remember his "immortality in the Spirit."

Happy Easter!

Posted by Mandy Meisenheimer, Wednesday, April 3, 2013

I’m fascinated by Judas.

What was the relationship between Judas and Jesus like? How did Judas think it was going to play out? Was Judas disappointed in Jesus and did he feel like the revolution wasn’t going as expected? So many different questions come up for me as I read about the betrayal of Jesus today.

As I imaginatively engage the questions, I’ve been meditating on this poem and perhaps you will find it to be a helpful Holy Thursday meditation as well. It is written in the voice of Jesus to Judas.

Judas, if true love never ceases
how could you, my friend, have come to this:
To sell me for thirty silver pieces
and betray me with a kiss?
Judas, remember what I taught you,
do not despair while hanging on the rope.
It's because you sinned that I have sought you;
I came to give you hope.
Judas, let us pray and hang together,
you on your halter, I upon my hill.
Dear friend, even if you loved me never,
you know I love you still.

—Bishop Fulton J. Sheen

 

 

Posted by Rev. Jes Kast-Keat, Thursday, March 28, 2013

Take this short quiz to discover whether or not you’re suffering from the FOMO epidemic:

  • If someone calls while you are on the phone, do you take the other call?
  • When you receive an email or text notification on your phone, do you instantly read it?
  • While working, do you constantly check your email?
  • Are you perusing Facebook throughout the day?
  • As a general rule, do you know what’s trending on Twitter?

If you’ve answered “yes” to four or more of these questions, you probably have FOMO. FOMO is the “fear of missing out.” Today, most adolescents are suffering from it, and it’s spreading to other generations quite quickly.

Barely a waking minute goes by when we are not tethered to technology to make sure a comment, photo, or bit of news is not missed. Psychologists say this is driven by the fear that we may miss something that is more exciting than what we’re currently doing.

Commenting on this trend, in Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other, Sherry Turkle asks, “When is downtime, when is stillness? The text-driven world of rapid response does not make self-reflection impossible but does little to cultivate it.”

Holy Week is about self-reflection, but the growing epidemic of FOMO is crowding out space for any soul-searching. Without it, we live the same day over and over rather than learning, growing, and changing so we can live in new ways. Jesus said, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself” (Matthew 6:34). Today Jesus would probably say, “Do not worry about the text message, for the text message will worry about itself.” This week, why not “power down” and make space for some spiritual self-reflection.

Posted by Rev Michael Bos, Monday, March 25, 2013

The hymn, “Ride On! Ride On in Majesty!” that we will sing on Sunday morning was written when Henry Hart Milman was 30 years old and shortly before he became professor of poetry at Oxford in 1821. The original tune for this hymn was called “Winchester New” which is more popularly known as an Advent hymn: “On Jordan’s Bank the Baptist’s Cry”. The tune in our hymnal, however, is “The King’s Majesty” and was written by Graham George. It was first published in the Episcopal Hymnal of 1940. In reply to an inquiry about the origin of the tune, George wrote: “It originated as the result of a choir practice before Palm Sunday in – I suppose – 1939, during which I had been thinking, “Winchester New” is a fine tune, but it has nothing whatever to do with the ‘tragic trumpets,’ as one might theatrically call them, of Palm Sunday. At breakfast the following morning I was enjoying my toast and marmalade when the first two lines of this tune sang themselves unbidden in my mind. This seemed too good to miss, so I went to my study, allowed the half-tune to complete itself – which it did with very little trouble – and there it was.”

When you encounter this hymn as we close our Palm Sunday service, think of the ‘tragic trumpets’ of that day when Jesus rides into Jerusalem, on a humble donkey, knowing the outcome.

Posted by Cynthia Powell, Friday, March 22, 2013

I can feel it. Can you? My mind, my body, my spirit is beginning to gear up for Holy Week.

Holy Week is filled with dynamic emotions. We begin the week with Palm Sunday (this Sunday) waving our Palm branches and placing our expectations on Jesus. When we cry “Hosanna” we are saying “save us!” That is what the crowd was exclaiming as Jesus humbly rode into Jerusalem on a donkey.

After the crowds, Jesus sits with his disciples and breaks bread with them. Among his friends he is betrayed with a kiss. The betrayal leads to his crucifixion on Friday, a dark day, perhaps the hardest day of the entire liturgical calendar.

Perhaps even more difficult, though, is Holy Saturday where we, along with the first disciples, wait without a word. In hindsight we know Easter is coming but imagine what it was like to be one of the first disciples, waiting in silence, wondering what to do next.

And then Easter; it is our most glorious day when we celebrate resurrection and the reality of new life.

Holy week is filled with emotions. I encourage you to participate in this story by coming to a variety of services offered at West End:

Palm Sunday – 10:15 AM Palm Walk
                         11 AM Worship

Holy Thursday – 7 PM Worship

Good Friday (Seven Last Phrases of Jesus) – Noon Worship

Easter Morning - 11 AM

Posted by Rev. Jes Kast-Keat, Thursday, March 21, 2013

How can I show grace to my children without being too permissive? What does grace look like within a framework of strong discipline?

Last week I wrote about the importance of not teaching our children to be perfect, but teaching them how to fail.

It is the only sure thing we know about our lives as humans: we will fail. We will sin. It is a reality we must confront as children and as adults. No amount of extracurricular activities, tutoring, Sunday school, or academics can forestall this inevitable truth.

But as parents, we feel irresponsible if we do not correct, redirect, address, or give consequences for every infraction. We don't want to raise spoiled, awful kids! We don't want to be that parent who permits so much behavior that the child never grows up. We don’t want our 30-year-olds coming home to live with us. So we count to three, and we send them to timeout, we take things away, and we demand apologies.

How do we infuse these systems with grace? How do we cocoon our parenting styles in unconditional love? How do we teach our children how to make mistakes while demanding appropriate behavior?

As an adoptive mom, I have learned what is known as therapeutic parenting. Children who have experienced trauma in their lives—whether they were cognitively aware of the traumatic event or not—respond innately out of that experience of loss. One theme that occurs time and again with children who have experienced trauma is the inability to accept unconditional love. Somehow, their little brains never received the message that they are worthy of love. One overwhelming characteristic of our children from hard places is that they feel incredible amounts of shame.

They cannot fathom grace.

They don't see how they could possibly deserve it.

From this framework, we begin our parenting journey. Therapeutic parents focus on one message: you are loved and safe. Yes, we want our children to know right from wrong, but you know what? They do. What they don't know is whether we will love them after the wrong.

For a bit of my therapeutic parenting journey, read this post from my personal blog:  http://mandymeisenheimer.com/posts/super-bad/

(Please note, I use a pseudonym for my son to protect his anonymity.)

For a taste of this radical way of helping a child to heal, check out this incredible blogpost from therapeutic parenting guru, Christine Moers:

http://www.welcometomybrain.net/2009/04/ill-just-out-crazy-your-crazy.html

Perhaps your children have never experienced life-altering trauma. Perhaps they are secure in your love for them and in their freedom to fail. Then I encourage you to lean into that trust and grace a little bit more. What would it look like if your first comment was, "I forgive you"? Or if your first instinct was to smile with understanding?

Would your connection be strengthened? Is there anything more important than that?

 

Posted by Mandy Meisenheimer, Wednesday, March 20, 2013

You probably haven’t heard of the “Vulnerability Prayer,” which is simple little prayer that says, “God, give me the courage to show up and let myself be seen.” I discovered this prayer in Brene Brown’s book, Daring Greatly. These simple words ask God to help us summon the courage to put ourselves out there and take a few risks, which isn’t always easy to do.

If you’re feeling fearful of “showing up and letting yourself be seen,” take some time this week to ponder an excerpt from Teddy Roosevelt’s speech, “Citizenship in a Republic.” (Roosevelt was a member of our denomination, the Reformed Church in America.) These are the words that gave Brown the courage to pray the Vulnerability Prayer and to “dare greatly.”

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

Posted by Rev Michael Bos, Tuesday, March 19, 2013