Blog – College Hill Moravian Church

Watchword Insights for the Week of September 18

moravianpastorchris@gmail.com (Christine Johnson) — Mon, 19 Sep 2022 11:42:11 GMT

Between Sunrise and Sunset

From the rising of the sun to its setting the name of the Lord is to be praised. Psalm 113: 3

A watercolor wash of orange pink streaks the sky early in the east, late in the west. Astronomical parenthesis bracketing time, sunrise and sunset punctuate the natural span of wakefulness with beauty. Praise God!

And what of the intervening moments? What of morning? What of a good stretch, aromatic coffee, and the warm pulses of shower spray? Of minty toothpaste, and clean clothes? Of a fresh calendar page and the chance to write hope on it? Praise God!

What of the middle hours? What of encounters? What of being greeted by a neighbor, with or without a Golden Retriever? What of sharing life snippets with a co-worker? Of a giggle from a grandchild, or a catch-up conversation with a dear friend? Of a pat on the back from the boss? Of a smile shared with a hustling restaurant server? Of an embrace and the affection that lingers? Praise God!

What of things so easily taken for granted? What of water that flows from a faucet, both hot AND cold? What of the appliances that simply work? Of the car that runs, and the computer that boots, and the WiFi that connects? Praise God!

What of accomplishments? Of the report written, the meal prepared, the project launched, the chore completed? Praise God!

What of delights? What of the flavor and texture of a savory entre, and the sweet finish of dessert? What of hearing a favorite old song, or discovering a new one? What of a movie that brings belly laughs? Of a book that elicits cathartic tears? Praise God!

And what of day’s end? What of an inviting bed, a pillow of just the right squishability, and blankets of preferred weight? What of the chance to settle into a restful position, close the eyes, and review all that has transpired between sunrise and sunset? What of the luxury of dozing off while counting blessings? Praise God! Amen.

Watchword Insights for the Week of September 11

moravianpastorchris@gmail.com (Christine Johnson) — Mon, 12 Sep 2022 14:06:36 GMT

The Value of a Broken Heart

The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. Psalm 51:17

It’s not that God prefers it when we are broken.

It’s not that God prefers it when we are shattered.

It’s not that God prefers it when we are crushed, not only by the circumstances of life, but by the weight of our own guilt when we recognize we have culpability in having reached such a painful place.

It’s not that God prefers it when we are so pulverized that the only thing left to be done is to beg for mercy and hope for grace.

It’s not that God prefers it this way, but sometimes it is this way. And when it is this way, God has an entrance point into our hearts.

The weekly Watchword for September 11 is certainly a somber one, and that seems fitting on a somber anniversary. Psalm 51 in its entirety, though, cries out to God not for what has been done to the author, but shares the despair of the author who has caused pain and suffering in a despicable way. This is a psalm of repentance. So burdened is the author by the sin of his own making that he cannot live with himself. Only when he is so demolished will he be able to accept God’s help in reshaping and rebuilding him.

While the reason for the author’s heartbreak may be quite different from the September 11 heartbreak that still has the capacity to overwhelm us, it remains true that our sorrow provides an opening for God to comfort, reassure, and restore us. It’s not that God prefers it this way, but God can work with it.

Seeking Healing for Us All,

Pastor Chris

Watchword Insights for the Week of August 29

moravianpastorchris@gmail.com (Christine Johnson) — Mon, 29 Aug 2022 15:47:16 GMT

Choose Your Attitude

Choose life so that you and your descendants may live,

loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him.

Deuteronomy 30: 19,20

My friend Bob is a motivational speaker and life coach, although he has never held these positions professionally. It’s just who he is—a natural mentor who shares encouragement freely. A former school superintendent, principal, guidance counselor and sports coach, Bob can’t seem to help himself from being a cheerleader in his church and community. With a vigor for living that outpaces folks half his age, Bob also possesses the wisdom that comes from having been on this earth for nearly ninety years. Everyone should be so fortunate as to know such a fine human being.

One thing Bob is known for is his attitude about “ATTITUDE.” In words and actions, he conveys the message that, no matter the circumstances we may find ourselves in, the attitude we adopt will be a key factor in how we perceive the outcome. He stocks a supply of gold-toned lapel pins and generously distributes them to folks he encounters. The pins say, “ATTITUDE.” They serve as a reminder that we always have a choice to adopt a positive or a negative perspective. Of course, he would advocate for the positive!

The Watchword for this week comes from the mouth of Moses as he addresses his people just before entering The Promised Land. They have been in an arduous period of transition for a very long time, having escaped from bondage in Egypt, but also having been on a difficult journey toward a new home, a new normal. Moses reminds the people that they have it within themselves to choose what kind of a future they will create: one that focuses on God and God’s goodness, or one that does not. The people would have the capacity to experience life and blessing if they remained faithful to their covenant with God. CHOOSE LIFE, Moses recommends!

Before you start each day this week, consider your ATTITUDE. No matter the challenges you might be expecting to face, a recognition of God’s blessings thus far will be an encouragement. Name the attitude you plan to adopt, put on your imaginary lapel pin, and CHOOSE LIFE!

Celebrating New Awareness

Sat, 19 Jun 2021 14:01:00 GMT

A random memory just popped up in my mind’s rotation : I’m 10-years-old or so, and I’m on an adventure with my Girl Scout troop. We are with throngs of people in the Milwaukee Arena for the Holiday Folk Fair International. We’re passing through a makeshift marketplace on our way to a stage where we’re going to watch Hungarian or Polish or German folk dancing, but we are distracted by the food vendors peddling kringles and kolachi, lefse and lutefisk, schaum torte and schnitzel. One of the girls has been here before and recommends that we all try the French crepes because they are c’est magnifique! Snippets of clarinet music rise above the crowd noise and then disappear back beneath the hum. A troupe of young people in gloriously embroidered costumes heads for the stage to tell a choreographed origin story. I’m in the thick of all this jumble, a little dizzy from the smells, the sights, the sounds, but, nevertheless, a bit jazzed by all the eclectic energy. I’m learning about the world—people, culture, traditions—and it’s heady. Turning away from the food vendors to the other merchants, I become intrigued by the exotic smoothness and the clacking-potential of a set of Spanish castanets. They become my souvenir of choice, the take-home treasure to keep this moment alive for years to come.

I’ve never been to a Juneteenth celebration before, but I’m planning to join in the public festivities this weekend. I imagine that I will get caught up in the momentum of it all, just as I did at the Folk Fair long ago. I expect that I will be enticed, entertained, and educated, all at the same time, especially through the food arts and the fine arts. Some jazz. Some step dancing. Some storytelling. I hope to be moved by the experience because that’s the purpose of cultural exchanges and interactions. I hope to be delighted. I hope to grow in my humanity.

The significance of Juneteenth is as new to me as it is to most of the White people I know—especially the ones not from Texas where the news of emancipation from legalized slavery was finally delivered in Galveston on June 19, 1865. But my awareness of slavery’s horrors has long been stirred through the arts. As a young teenager I wept my way through reading Alex Haley’s novel, Roots: The Saga of an American Family , and later watching the televised mini-series based on the book. As a young adult I wept my way through a spectacular live performance of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater’s signature ballet, Revelations . In more recent years I have wept my way through the movies 12 Years a Slave and Harriet .

I will never know what it was like to have been an enslaved person. Likewise, I will never know what it is like to be Black in this country, and to have my very existence in the present be so shaped by all that has transpired since 1619. It seems that it is only decent of me to cultivate empathy for the people of God with whom I share life—my neighbors in this community and this nation. As I seek more to understand than to be understood (Prayer of St. Francis), I increase in my capacity to be a stronger ally and a better community partner. I become a more deeply engaged disciple of Christ, better fortified to think, speak, and act with love.

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Romans 12: 15 (NRSV)

With Humble Hopes and Hallelujahs,

Pastor Chris

Worship With Us

We gather for worship on Sunday mornings at 10 a.m., and all are welcomed. You may join us on our YouTube channel (search for College Hill Moravian Church), or from our parking lot where the live service is broadcast over your car radio (tune to 98.5), or in-person in our sanctuary (please wear a mask and practice distancing). Our physical location is 72 W. Laurel Street in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.

Dragonfly

Sat, 12 Jun 2021 18:21:00 GMT

It so happens that I was gifted a vintage, iridescent dragonfly broach recently by an old friend—a collector of fine art and jewelry. I hadn’t done a thing to deserve such an extravagant surprise, although my friend insists that it was merely repayment for my kindness. I told my friend there’s not a price for kindness, but they sent me the pin anyway. They told me that, in their experience, kindness is rare, and instances of it should be treasured. I cherish the gesture, even though I am so very sad that my friend has known more harshness than heart, more trauma than tenderness.

My friend has been unburdening from some events of the past, and in doing so, has been discovering bits of grace and goodness. Like a dragonfly, my friend is surfacing from an existence spent underwater and emerging, changed, into their true self—beautiful, colorful, fearless.

Dragonflies have remarkable eyes that allow them to see in almost all directions simultaneously. With such clarity, with such awareness of where they are relative to every other object around them, they dart through the atmosphere at high speeds with utter confidence. Even though they come from murky marshes where their worldview may be shaped by shadows, once they have come through metamorphosis, their wings give them flight, and their refocused vision gives them freedom.

Transformation is the very center of a life lived in faith. For those of us who pursue what Jesus Christ has to offer, the butterfly provides a vivid symbol of the process: life to death to New Life.

So then, if anyone is in Christ, that person is part of the new creation. The old things have gone away, and look, new things have arrived! 2 Corinthians 5:17 (CEB)

But we sometimes err on the side of understanding this to be only a matter of physical death resulting in heavenly residency. Transformation encompasses so much more! It has to do with growing and flourishing into our full selves, our authentic selves in this life. So often this means identifying and then leaving behind in the murky marsh those criticisms, judgements and hurts that stunt growth. It means being able to at least glimpse the wonder that comes with breaking free so that we can begin to maneuver confidently. It is a remarkable blessing to be assured that resurrection into fresh hopefulness is a daily celebration, not merely an end-of-life achievement.

I find myself wondering these days if it is possible for not only individual people, but for a whole society to undergo a metamorphosis that results in all of humanity knowing the marvels of kindness and inclusion and equality and graciousness. It is a fanciful flight of imagination to consider, and yet, it is possible for a 1 ½ -inch Globe Skimmer dragonfly to wing its way across an entire ocean. If that can happen, why could it not also happen that all people would find acceptance under the rainbow-tinted sky?

Whatever is lovely, think on these things.

Pastor Chris

Take a Dip

Sat, 05 Jun 2021 18:30:00 GMT

As the first heat wave of summer spreads over Bethlehem like a smothering Woolrich blanket, there’s an eagerness in knowing that the city’s public swimming pools will soon open for the season. This includes the newly renovated Memorial Pool on Illick’s Mill Road. When it debuts next week, Memorial Pool will no longer be just one big ol’ cement pond constructed in 1957, but rather an updated, contemporary, multi-pool complex. It sounds as though there will be something enjoyable for everyone: a beach-like entry pool with “water amusements,” another pool anchored by water slides, and a third pool featuring a diving board and lap lanes. Splish splash!

Springs of water will burst out in the wilderness,
streams flow in the desert.
Hot sands will become a cool oasis,
thirsty ground a splashing fountain. Isaiah 35: 6b-7a (The Message)

Spring. Stream. Oasis. Fountain. Do any of these refreshingly wet words appeal to your spiritual senses? Your response probably depends on how parched you might be, but even if you’re the slightest bit dehydrated in your soul, the idea of taking a dip in the water of life sounds rejuvenating. How do you do it? What is your preferred approach when you come to the edge of the reservoir of God’s replenishment?

Do you wade in gradually from zero depth, tentatively letting the water cover over your feet, your ankles, your shins? Do you adjust to the temperature with each step, not moving ahead until you’re comfortable at a particular level? Do you like to stay there where you are comfortable?

Are you playful about it? Do you find delight in the “water amusements?” Do you linger in the spray of the overhead sprinklers, letting liquid trickle over you? Do you giggle?

Maybe you’re enticed by colorful ladders and tubes and canopies. Maybe you like to climb up, then careen down the curvy slide, plunging into the drink. Maybe you like to gather yourself up and do it again, never getting enough of the wild ride.

Or perhaps you like to sit on the edge, feet dangling, readying yourself to slip in smoothly and begin oh-so-many steady laps. Perhaps you like the rhythmic predictability of the daily routine, and how the daily routine builds muscle and stamina for the long haul.

Then again, maybe you find yourself surprised, standing on the springboard, slightly terrified and yet eager to dive boldly and gracefully into the depths.

To play, to float, to dive, to stroke, to rest, to train, to replenish…for whatever reason you are drawn to the water of life, find yourself renewed in the overspray of God’s goodness.

Spashing Around,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

June 6, 2021– 10:00 AM

Indoor Worship in the Sanctuary

For the first time in a VERY long time, worshipers who would like to come into the sanctuary may do so. Out of consideration for the whole community, for now, it is expected that all will wear masks, practice distancing, and refrain from singing and speaking liturgical responses. Please enter throught the Laurel Street/front door or the ramp/office door.

Parking Lot Worship

If you would prefer to worship from the “safe bubble” of your vehicle, the service will continue to be broadcast to the parking lot. When weather permits, we’ll have outdoor speakers set up in the church parking lot. If you bring along a lawn chair, you’ll be able to sit outside your vehicle and listen to the worship service.

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m. (This will be the last meeting before taking a summer break.)

Everyone is welcome! Whether you’ve become a “regular” at these gatherings, or you’re thinking about dropping by for the very first time, please use the Zoom link below, or join by phone if you do not use a device with a screen.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m. (This will be the last meeting before taking a summer break.)

We offer Zoom Prayers on Sunday evenings at 6:30. We come together to share simply in intercessory prayer on behalf of our congregation, community, and world. We usually conclude by 7:00 p.m. All are welcome!

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Thoughts

Fri, 28 May 2021 15:59:00 GMT

Image by Kevin Graham from Pixabay

I can’t tell you how many Memorial Day parades I’ve been to, but it’s a lot. I remember being a little kid, sitting on the curb, watching police cars roll down the middle of the street, lights strobing, as a seemingly-ancient guard of World War I veterans shuffle-marched their way by. I remember being in the parade myself along with my Girl Scout troop, all of us wearing green uniform dresses, carrying miniature American flags-on-sticks, and me struggling to keep my knee socks pulled up as I hiked the route. I remember matching strides with the flag line fronting my junior high school marching band, with the flute line when I made it into the high school marching band, and even with the percussion line the one year I played the cymbals. I remember sitting on the curb as the parent of little kids—kids enthralled by noisy fire engines and rifle-tossing drill teams. And I remember walking parallel to the parade route a couple of different years in a couple of different towns, trying to time my arrival at the designated public park or cemetery, having been asked to attend a ceremony and provide the invocation, or perhaps, narrate “In Flanders Field.”

I have a lot of Memorial Day memories, to be sure. They’re part of my backstory. Truly, though, they are rather ordinary memories, not infused with poignancy. This is because I am beyond fortunate to have never experienced the loss of a close relative or friend serving in the military. Such particular weightiness has never settled upon me.

For the greatest love of all is a love that sacrifices all. And this great love is demonstrated when a person sacrifices his life for his friends. John 15: 13 (The Passion Translation)

My Memorial Day moments have not been personally gut-wrenching, but instead, they have been somewhat detached. From that distance, I have sometimes had the luxury of thinking about the nature of my patriotism. It occurs to me…

Maybe all of those parades and all of those ceremonies had a deeper affect on me than I was aware of.

Will you take a few moments to be reflective during this Memorial Day weekend? Who will you remember? What will you remember? How do the pieces fit together for you? What does it mean for the shape of the society we live?

God Bless Us,

Pastor Chris

Choices

Sat, 22 May 2021 20:19:00 GMT

As if there weren’t already enough choices to make from among the 42,200 items shelved, on average, at a supermarket, the newest Weis Market in my neighborhood added a feature I’ve never before seen in such a setting: a staffed candy counter. It’s tucked away in the bakery department between a glass case filled with cupcakes and a rack stacked with French bread. You can stand in front of the display, point to your selections, and the attendant will box them up for you.

The service is reminiscent of old school department stores. Many of you reading this page will remember Orr’s, a classic example that anchored downtown Bethlehem until 1993. Orr’s Candy Department took up the better part of the establishment’s basement (along with Housewares and Gift Wrap), and its display cases were arranged in a sort of corral. The employee would stand inside the square, surrounded by a veritable tonnage of Asher chocolates stacked daintily on doilies. Customers would lean in for a close-up glimpse of coconut haystacks or raspberry creams. Wanting to make good decisions from among so many options, they would get so close that their noses would touch the glass. Between shoppers, the employee would have to Windex-away the noseprints along with the accumulated fingerprints. (I happened to be one of those employees during the holiday shopping season of 1987!)

The beloved fictional character Forrest Gump observed, “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.“ Might be tasty. Might be nasty. There’s a randomness when it comes to snacking from a pre-packaged assortment. A Whitman’s Sampler, for example. Or a container of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. You take it as it comes and hope for the best! But control can be exercised at a candy counter. Your order can be customized to contain ¾ of a pound of peanut butter cups plus a handful of caramels and 1 dipped and sprinkled pretzel rod. If you despise maple cream filling, you can avoid it and get nonpareils instead. You are free to choose as you will, and there’s a sweet satisfaction in that.

After a lengthy period when so many of our individual choices were curtailed in favor of knocking out the pandemic that put the world on hold, it feels as though freedom has been restored. We can choose to go to restaurants. We can choose to go to gyms. We can choose to ride roller coasters at Dorney Park, or enter the New York City Marathon, or purchase festival concert tickets, or just drop by and linger at a favorite restaurant. Thanks be to God that the pestilence which has affected every populated nook and cranny is waning.

In choosing to exercise all of this newly-refreshed freedom, though, let us continue to be mindful of the people with whom we share the planet. Please be considerate in your choices and benevolent in your behavior, always remembering that the boundlessness of your freedom has the full potential to impact the boundlessness of someone else’s well-being. This isn’t a new thought, born as a response to any announcements from the CDC or pronouncements from the Governor. It is ancient and wise and holy. It remains at the core of who we are as Christ followers.

It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don’t use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that’s how freedom grows. For everything we know about God’s Word is summed up in a single sentence: Love others as you love yourself. That’s an act of true freedom. Galatians 5: 13-14 (The Message)

Press against the glass. Be amazed by the array of choices available to you—all the flavors your life can take on. Point to those moments you’d like to try next. Select some that will be substantial. Select a few that will offer pure joy. Select some just to share generously. You are free to make good choices.

Freely,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

May 23, 2021– 10:00 AM

OUTDOOR WORSHIP–an extension of Parking Lot Worship

Weather permitting, our entire worship service will take place outside with worship leaders coming to you from the makeshift stage of the building’s entrance ramp. Bring along a lawn chair to set up in the grassy space between the building and the parking lot. As an act of caring for those who have not yet been vaccinated, please wear a mask and be mindful of distancing. If you prefer, you may stay seated in your vehicle and hear the broadcast on the radio. (In case of bad weather, we will broadcast the service through car radios.)

As we celebrate Pentecost, we will take part in Holy Communion. Worshipers will recieve the elements when they arrive in the parking lot. Anyone worshiping via the YouTube livestream will want to bring a bit of bread and drink along to the screen.

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – On hiatus until June

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

What Will You Do with All Those Masks?

Sat, 15 May 2021 13:07:00 GMT

Did you give a whoop-whoop and a high-five as you unlooped your mask from your ears the other day, knowing it had been proclaimed safe by the CDC for vaccinated people to do so? Did your mood lighten considerably with the realization that many pandemic practices were being repealed? Did you feel wild and strangely free in letting your face go naked in public?

Did you drop down on your knees in sheer gratitude, whispering appreciation to God for a major shift in The Pandemic’s momentum? Did you thank God for the proven-sturdy armor of vaccine, a miraculous shield fending off disease and infection?

Did you give a thought to what you might do with your collection of amassed masks? The lovingly stitched cloth coverings handmade for your protection back in the dark days when elastic was hard to come by? The neck gaiters you ordered from Amazon? The plaid flannel ones you gifted as stocking stuffers last Christmas? The disposable paper ones you keep in your car’s glove compartment? The more elaborate creations ordered from Etsy to match your workday wardrobe or your special occasion formalwear?

I have a suggestion. Keep them for now. Wear them when you’re out and about in mixed company—that is, the community of the vaccinated and the unvaccinated. (As I write this, 64% of Northampton County’s population is NOT yet fully vaccinated.) Do so not because you must protect yourself, but because you still have concern for those around you. Do so not because it’s required of you, but because it’s not! Do so not because you’re compelled by legalities, but because you’re motivated to be a carrier of Jesussy LOVE.

It’s exhausting, I know, to be vigilant on behalf of someone else—someone vulnerable. But it is the very nature of our discipleship.

Let’s not get tired of doing good, because in time we’ll have a harvest if we don’t give up. So then, let’s work for the good of all whenever we have an opportunity, and especially for those in the household of faith. Galatians 6:9-10 (CEB)

You’ve probably heard stories about or maybe even been part of an effort to demonstrate solidarity in a visible way—as when a whole crew of friends or co-workers or teammates shave their heads bald in support of their dear one undergoing chemo treatments. It’s an unmistakable marker of empathy, a dramatic display of care. If it helps to think of mask-wearing as making that same kind of statement, please do!

With Care,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

May 16, 2021– 10:00 AM

Parking Lot Worship

When weather permits, we’ll have outdoor speakers set up in the church parking lot. If you bring along a lawn chair, you’ll be able to sit outside your vehicle and listen to the worship service. Please wear a mask and maintain a safe distance from those who live outside of your bubble.

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Atlantic Avenue Adventure

Sat, 08 May 2021 23:09:00 GMT

It was one of those kitschy shops you find in all beach towns—the kind stocked with souvenir t-shirts and boogie boards, flipflops and sunscreen. In need of a hat to shade my face from ceaseless vacation sunshine, my husband Darrell and I headed toward the place on our morning walk. We hadn’t yet had breakfast, so it was questionable whether the emporium would even be open at that hour. The sign in the window said “closed,” but the storefront’s sliding glass panes had been pushed aside. We could see a few people milling around while a hard-working woman staffed the register.

Calling from the outside of the building to the inside, Darrell inquired cheerfully, “Are you open already? Your sign says you’re not.”

She answered, “Customers come. I open. Sign no matter.” She waved us in.

Pretty quickly, I located what I had come for, and she rang up the purchase. Then she said, “You stay here. Watch shop for me.” And then she vanished!

Darrell and I looked at each other, perplexed. I asked him, “Did she just leave us in charge?”

He nodded. “I think so.”

Half a block away, the ocean surged upon the shore. Likewise, a wave of responsibility washed over us. In an unexpected moment, we had gone from being carefree passers-by to conscientious caretakers of someone else’s livelihood! I sort of positioned myself where I could keep an eye on the register, Darrell sort of positioned himself where he could keep an eye on the door, and both of us sort of began taking mental inventory of beach towels, pool toys, and boxed saltwater taffy.

For eleven minutes, we patrolled and protected, not knowing exactly what was going on. When the shop owner returned, she explained in heavily accented, non-standard English that when she had arrived at work, customers had already been waiting to get in. Not wanting to miss the opportunity for a sale, she had parked her vehicle in the loading zone while she unlocked the establishment. But then she had to move it.

Flabbergasted, we pointed out that we might have taken advantage of the situation. We might have helped ourselves to her wares. We might have cleaned her out. She answered back confidently, “You have good eyes. If you had bad eyes, I not let you in store. I say, ‘Go away.’”

So, there you have it. My husband and I are apparently trustworthy in the opinion of a total stranger. (I hope this bears out among the people who actually do know us!) What a curious episode. And what I find especially interesting is the depth of my accountability in this situation. I was not an employee, not a friend, not a concerned member of the neighborhood watch, and yet, I felt utterly obliged to do what I was asked to do. I felt compelled to be responsible. Why is that?

If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus… (Philippians 2: 1-5)

I hope that I might always be so influenced by the mind of Christ Jesus that I would look to the interests of others in the little things and the big ones. I hope I never tire of the surprises life puts in my path, and the opportunity to let goodness unfold.

Sometimes, as they say, life is a beach. Sometimes it’s a beach mercantile. Sometimes it’s a great anecdote. Sometimes it’s its own parable.

Your Temporary Purveyor of Boardwalk Mementos,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

May 9, 2021– 10:00 AM

Parking Lot Worship

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

10,000 Steps

Sat, 01 May 2021 22:06:00 GMT

I downloaded a new step-counting app a few weeks ago—a novelty to motivate me towards improved fitness. I can’t tell you how many Fitbits and clip-on pedometers I’ve misplaced over the years, as if losing each measuring device were a good excuse for not having to exercise! The new app isn’t much different from the last one I had on my phone except that it tells me when I’ve perambulated enough to be considered “slightly active” as opposed to “sedentary,” and that, apparently, is incentive enough to make me want to accumulate small triumphs.

Incremental improvements seem to be achievable, and they are said to be surprisingly beneficial. Some recent studies show that miniscule amounts of movement make a huge impact on health and well-being. Walking briskly or dancing around joyfully for just 11 minutes a day increases life span, according to research done by the Norwegian School of Sports Medicine in 2020. And by the way, for an upbeat playlist that lasts just over 11 minutes, string together “Happy” by Pharrell Williams, “Uptown Funk” by Bruno Mars,” and “Handclap” by Fitz and the Tantrums. Longevity will be yours! (So says mind-body coach Dana Santas in a piece for CNN.)

I find encouragement in knowing that positive change can come from taking small and steady steps. I doubt very much that I will ever, for example, run a marathon, but that doesn’t preclude me from striding toward other mile markers. Audacious goals can be inspiring, but they can also turn out to be debilitating. I’m grateful that most of life’s choices don’t have to be quite so unrelenting. On a continuum between ALL and NOTHING, there are infinite points!

When people’s steps follow the Lord,
God is pleased with their ways.
If they stumble, they will not fall,
because the Lord holds their hand. Psalm 37: 23-24 (NCV)

Step by step. Eleven minutes at a time. Perhaps that’s how we’ll make progress toward collective well-being in a society endangered by all-or-nothing-ness. Folks seem to easily fall into the fallacy of dualism—that there are only ever two choices in a matter, that there are only ever two sides to line up on, that there are only ever correct and incorrect answers. When we get caught up in that kind of thinking—that kind of being—we cannot avail ourselves of the infinite healthy possibilities located somewhere other than THIS or THAT, NOW or LATER. We forget that solutions can be THIS AND THAT, NOW AND LATER.

If there were an app for counting the steps I take in following God, it would have to include a category for the times when I stumble and don’t quite get there, like when I give intolerance a pass or let injustice slide. But the app would also have to include a category to show where God reaches out a hand and helps me get back on track. Every step I take toward understanding my neighbor moves me from “apathy” toward “compassion,” and from “passivity” toward “empathy.” “LOVE” is the 10,000 step goal, and when I get there, animated confetti pours across the screen.

Step with Me,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

May 2, 2021– 10:00 AM

Parking Lot Worship

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Last Tuesday Afternoon

Sat, 24 Apr 2021 13:31:00 GMT

Last Tuesday afternoon, when I was going about the task of watering my houseplants, I was greeted with a surprise. Among the glossy dark leaves of one potted beauty, a subtle white bract had unfurled, flaglike, as though signaling for a truce. Never before had the greenery produced a blossom, and I was delighted by the development. I had been casually tending the plant for several years, watering it regularly, feeding it occasionally, and periodically shuffling it from window sill to window sill in an attempt to discover the spot where it could best thrive. And now, here it was, quietly doing just that, living its best life as a peace lily.

Last Tuesday afternoon, at nearly the same time I noticed the peace lily’s first-ever florescence, a development of a different kind was being revealed in a closely watched Minnesota courtroom. Eleven months after we collectively, disturbingly, tragically witnessed George Floyd’s life expire over the course of 9 minutes and 29 seconds, the person primarily responsible was held accountable by a jury of his peers.

Last Tuesday afternoon, when the verdict was pronounced, the crowd outside the courthouse cheered and smiled, displaying support for the decision. The celebration, though, was subdued. It was not the occasion for boisterous revelry, for the popping of champagne corks, for fireworks. The acclamations reflected relief more than rejoicing, encouragement more than exuberance. The moment was one of optimism tempered by solemnity, for just as surely as it time-stamped a new era of bright possibility for racial justice in our nation, that bright possibility has been born of sorrow and pain.

Last Tuesday afternoon, I thought about how extraordinary it was that the peace lily would mature just when it did, and this hopeful prophecy came to mind:

Then justice will reside in wild lands,
and righteousness will abide in farmlands.

The fruit of righteousness will be peace,
     and the outcome of righteousness,
     calm and security forever.
Then my people will live in a peaceful dwelling,
     in secure homes, in carefree resting places .

Isaiah 32: 16-18 (CEB)

Last Tuesday afternoon, I was reminded that peace flourishes when it is rooted in justice.

Know Justice, Know Peace,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

April 25, 2021– 10:00 AM

Collection Day for William Penn Elementary School (single-serving, non-perishable foods)

Parking Lot Worship

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

UFOs

Sat, 17 Apr 2021 19:02:00 GMT

My husband Darrell and I had a chance to get away last week to the far end of the Bay-Bridge Tunnel. We spent much of our vacation distancing from the rest of humanity by meandering outdoors, sometimes at a coastal state park on nearly-secret trails through a bald cypress swamp. On one of our hikes, we stepped off the wetland boardwalk and onto a mulched pathway hugging the edge of a Chesapeake Bay tributary. We watched a couple of geckos scramble for cover before noticing a shadowy pattern interrupting the sunlight. We looked up… and up… and up to a deluxe nest built at the tiptop of a scruffy, former tree. Two winged-creatures sailed by in the sky. By the time we could point-and-shoot our phones’ cameras, the birds had flown a distance from the nest and out over the water.

We were pretty sure they were not bald eagles. We had been fortunate to see a pair of them the day before. We took into consideration the clues at our disposal—our geography; the fact that the nest was in a dead tree as opposed to a living one; and that the name of the path we were hiking on was “Osprey Trail”—and concluded that the Unidentified Flying Objects were, indeed, ospreys. I guess that makes them IFOs—Identified Flying Objects.

In any case, they were large birds of prey, and to watch them soar on the air currents with more ease than the parasailers gliding nearby on the Atlantic side of the park was a thrill.

Speaking of what else can be seen when looking up, various news outlets have recently reported that UFO sightings rose sharply in 2020, with the greatest spike having come in upstate New York during March and April. As someone who finds TV shows like The X Files and Stranger Things to be immensely entertaining, my pulse quickened at such news. And then it slowed back down again when it was pointed out that, perhaps not-so-coincidentally, the period in which the number of sightings doubled happened to match the period in which New Yorkers (and the rest of us) were confined during The Pandemic’s early days. One explanation is that people simply had more time to pay attention to what was going on around them, and so they spent more time simply gazing up. Another explanation is that many city dwellers left NYC during that stretch and found themselves away from light pollution for the first time in their lives, and so they could suddenly visualize objects in the night sky in ways they never had before—birds, bats, satellites, planes, and drones. What a mundane resolution. And yet, it’s good to know that people can still be stirred to curiosity by that which is mysterious.

I like it when human beings get stumped. I like it when human beings don’t have ALL the answers, and I like it even more when human beings REALIZE we don’t have all the answers. I like it when human beings recognize that there is more to living than we often think there is. I like it when human beings feel a little bit small, a little bit off-kilter, a little bit uncertain of our own certitude, a little bit humbled.

Just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways,
and my plans than your plans. Isaiah 55: 9 (CEB)

Looking up,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

April 18, 2021– 10:00 AM

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Parking Lot Worship

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

In Between

Sat, 03 Apr 2021 23:35:00 GMT

Today is the Middle Day. The one between Good Friday and Easter. The one that’s halfway between grief and joy. Perhaps that’s why the sights I encountered on my drive around town this afternoon seemed especially appropriate.

It began with a short journey to a nearby funeral home where I offered support to a family who had lost not only one but two loved ones in a short span of time. There were tears, of course, and picture boards, and a video tribute, and strategically placed bowls of the beloveds’ favorite candies. Some of the other visitors mentioned how odd it was to have a memorial service on Easter weekend, as if nobody had ever before thought to put death and resurrection in close proximity!

Upon leaving the funeral home and heading toward home, as I came to a halt at a red traffic signal, I noticed a porch party going on near the intersection. All kinds of people had gathered, and though they wore masks and spread out per pandemic protocol, the gang seemed to be having an exceptionally good time as they gathered near their friend. A hand-lettered banner stretched from one end of the porch to the other. It read: HONK TO WISH TIM A HAPPY BIRTHDAY! So I did.

A little further on, I came upon another crew of people meandering around the front yard of another house. From a distance I could tell they were dressed up, and as I drew closer, I could see matching gray tuxedos on three or four fellows. And just as it was registering in my mind that this might be more than a casual, impromptu gathering, I caught a glimpse of white lace as the elegant bride emerged from the elegant home. I wished I were at another traffic light! But, no, I had to keep moving on Market Street.

That’s how it is on The Great Sabbath. Death is a reality, and living continues. Tomorrow we’ll be reminded that death is a disrupter, and eternal living is a reality!

Thanks Be to God!

Pastor Chris

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Easter Dawn Worship

Join with other Bethlehem Moravian Congregations at God’s Acre (behind Central Moravian Church) for a Sunrise Service beginning at 6:30 a.m. Please practice masking and distancing; or…

Livestream HERE:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LB4eNSH28Xs

Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

Easter: April 4 – 10:00 AM

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Parking Lot Worship

Virtual Fellowship and Zoom Prayers will resume on April 18.

Holy Week

Sat, 27 Mar 2021 15:30:00 GMT

I am mesmerized by the process of fluid abstract art. It’s not that I have attempted creating it myself, but watching videos of other people making it fascinate me. Also called “pour painting,” the dramatic results seem unlikely if not impossible. The technique involves sploshing generous amounts of acrylic paint into a Dixie cup, layering color upon color but not stirring or blending the hues—only stratifying them. When the mismatched pigments reach a depth of 3 or 4 inches, the cup gets tipped over onto a canvas, causing a color riot. The canvas gets tilted and rotated, causing the color riot to spread, wavelike, in all directions. Excess paint rolls off the edges, and what is left is a dynamic expression full of vibrancy and imagined movement.

If you were to type “fluid abstract art” into the YouTube search box, you would discover hundreds of astonishing examples. You could spend a holy week having your mind boggled by them as you watch and wonder how such chaos could ever culminate in such beauty.

Maybe that would be an evocative approach to Holy Week, a way to enter into the painful narrative that walks us through the unholy tragedy of Jesus’ last days—his egregious arrest, shambolic trial, outrageous death sentence, and brutal execution. To view such confusing and disturbing pandemonium straight on is too much to bear. To view it from a different perspective—to observe all the muddle as it sorts itself into something exquisite—makes it endurable. Even desirable.

It is only because of Easter that we would ever want to turn our attention to the mayhem of the week that precedes it. Without the perspective of resurrection, it would damage us to peer too closely at Jesus’ torment. Without the perspective of resurrection, though, there wouldn’t even be a reason to do so. But because we do know the splendid ending (that really isn’t an ending at all), we are compelled to at least glance sideways at how the glorious results came to be.

And so, I invite you, however best you can, to enter the spiritual chaos of the next seven days. Your discipline may be as simply profound as reading through the biblical accounts of the story as you’ll find them beginning in Matthew 21, Mark 11, Luke 19, and Matthew 12. To encounter all four of the biblical versions woven together into one literary tapestry, read through the traditional Moravian resource known as Readings for Holy Week. Many livestream and pre-recorded options for experiencing the Readings are available at https://www.moravian.org/2021/03/congregations-share-readings-for-holy-week-services/ . Our own congregation will be offering virtual experiences for Maundy Thursday and Good Friday via the College Hill Moravian Church YouTube channel (7:00 p.m. on both evenings and always available to be viewed later).

And please do consider either creating art, or observing the creation of art, as a way of discovering hope through chaos. I’ve added an example below, but feel free to explore on your own.

Exploring the Holy Week with You,

Pastor Chris

Photo by Dids from Pexels

Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

PALM SUNDAY< March 28, 2021– 10:00 AM

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Parking Lot Worship

This will be a collection day for food donations designated for William Penn Elementary School. Single-serving, kid-friendly items are most appreciated.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go tohttps://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Vernal Equinox

Sat, 20 Mar 2021 18:52:00 GMT

This is the day to throw open the windows and let the curtains flutter in the freshness of Spring, newly arrived and bursting with possibility! This is the day to catch yourself whistling absent-mindedly with cheerful abandon while stashing snow shovels in less conspicuous places. This is the day to cast off heavy gloom, the drapery of a physically and emotionally brutal winter, and pick up a lighter, brighter attitude.

This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it! Psalm 118: 24

Very much on purpose, I jumpstarted the season with an annual musical ritual: I listened—really listened—to a recording of Leonard Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic in a performance of Aaron Copeland’s Appalachian Spring. The ballet is a prominent selection on the soundtrack of my spiritual life, and hearing it becomes an inspiring, 24-minute-long prayer. Today, as always, it so touched my soul with beauty that I wept. Tears splashed on my cheeks as the lyrical melody evoked promise, gratitude, and joy.

Then I cleaned something.

I didn’t know that I would be establishing another spring ritual when I was at Walmart the other day and picked up a Swiffer duster with a telescoping handle. Earlier in the week I noticed some cobwebs dangling from the tall ceilings in our home’s stairwell, and the far-reaching Swiffer contraption was just the right tool to employ. Per the package instructions, I fluffed up the papery yellow “feathers” of the duster until they took on the appearance of an actual spring chick. I extended the arm and swept it along the joint where the wall meets the ceiling, and, presto!, the cobwebs were conquered. I continued, tracing the high line around the hallways, the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen, obliterating all the dirt strands I could see. I came back for a second round, this time sweeping across the tops of the milled woodwork and hitting the blind spots: the window frames and case openings and interior doors. I finished up by wiping away the overhead grime topside on the blades of the ceiling fan. In 20 minutes, the duster was black with all the dirt that had been escaping my awareness because it was unseen. It was a rather stunning revelation. But the thing that was even more remarkable was just how peculiarly satisfying it was to Swiffer it away!

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me . Psalm 51:10

It was also peculiarly satisfying to Swiffer away the obvious cobwebs clinging to my spirit while I worked my way around the house. It crossed my mind how long I had looked past some of the grungy threads dirtying my interior life—threads I left unattended because they didn’t seem to be in the way. They didn’t seem to be causing me any trouble. And yet, when I started wiping away at them, I discovered that the more apparent struggles were actually indicators pointing to other collections of gunk I couldn’t even see! The more I dusted around the framework of my spirit, the more debris I collected. My recognizable sins—thin strings of discouragement and cynicism—pointed me toward unseen hurts and resentments that needed to be cleaned away. So I dragged a spiritual Swiffer around my insides, confessing and repenting as I went. And in God’s goodness, God disposed of every last speck.

Spring stretches out before me, a pathway through beauty and forgiveness on the way to hopefulness. How have you welcomed the seasonal shift? If you haven’t yet embraced the equinox, let me recommend putting on the music that speaks to your spirit, and conducting a deep clean of your soul. You’ll be…

Refreshed,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

March 21, 2021– 10:00 AM

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Parking Lot Worship

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Time Change

Mon, 15 Mar 2021 14:18:00 GMT

We’ve just come through a time change weekend when we intentionally scissor away sunlight from the top of the morning, stitch it to the bottom of the evening, and tell ourselves we have lengthened the day. Of course, we do this with a wink. We all know we’re fooling ourselves. We may have collectively shifted our use of time, but there is no net gain or loss. We still and always have 24 hours to work with—1,440 minutes—even though we speak of losing or adding moments each spring and fall.

On this very day in 2020—525,600 minutes ago—it seemed not as though time skipped ahead an hour, but rather, stopped. It was on Sunday, March 15, that our College Hill congregation began the previously inconceivable suspension of Sunday worship and all other in-person gatherings until such a time that we could get a grip on the brewing public health crisis. Surely, we thought, it would only be for a few weeks. Surely, we miscalculated.

Even though we have spent a year discovering clever work-arounds in order to function, and even though life has taken on at least a sheen of normalcy in recent months, in some ways, it seems as though time is still stopped. A broken analog clock. With its hands frozen in place, it divides all of history into B.P.E. (Before the Pandemic Era) and A.V. (After Vaccination). We’re in the changeover right now, waiting for the clock to be repaired and restarted, hoping that it will operate dependably again soon, expecting that it will keep time predictably, the way it used to.

Recently I heard someone say, “I’m ready to just get on with it! We’ve already lost so much time that we’ll never get back.” It is sadly true that loss has been a strong theme in the past year, and not only loss of precious lives. Our dear ones. Some lost companionship, not to death, but to the circumstances of separation and isolation. Some lost out on celebrating milestones in the full-blown ways that may have been imagined: birthdays and weddings and retirements and graduations and such. Some lost employment and financial security, and even tangible things because of it. Some lost opportunities, and with them dreams.

It would be appropriate today to reflect on the losses. To name them. To list them. To light a candle and sit with them. Likewise, it could be fruitful to also reflect on what may have been gained. The silver linings. The blessings. The unexpected joys and goodness.

How we value time is key. When we go looking for what was meaningful even in our days of struggle, we discover that those days weren’t lost . They were actually quite powerful in forming our attitudes going forward. If we are not thoughtful about what has transpired, the time we may have counted as lost could shape us in unhelpful ways, leaving us bitter and resentful rather than appreciative and fulfilled. Who would want to so tarnish the shiny future? Rather than think of 525,600 minutes of time being lost, perhaps we are better off thinking of them as 525,600 minutes to be redeemed.

It is a universal desire to trade in tough times for better times. In a psalm traditionally attributed to Moses (and he goes way back ), the writer asks God to balance out the time ahead. He asks God to make the math work out favorably for the people and to conjure enough good days to at least equal the number of tumultuous days they have already come through. But he also expresses a desire to learn from God and learn from experience—to let wisdom be the takeaway.

Teach us to number our days so we can have a wise heart. Come back to us, Lord!
Please, quick!
Have some compassion for your servants!
Fill us full every morning with your faithful love
so we can rejoice and celebrate our whole life long.
Make us happy for the same amount of time that you afflicted us— for the same number of years that we saw only trouble.

Psalm 90: 12-15 (CEB)

We cannot scissor away the pandemic year we have come through and stitch it elsewhere to the fabric of our existence. We cannot erase the minutes, nor set them ahead. But we can recoup their value so we might find “strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.”*

Numbering the Days,

Pastor Chris

*This is one of my favorite lines from the hymn, ”Great Is Thy Faithfulness,” penned by Thomas O. Chisholm in 1923.

Photo by Nanzui Palomino from Pexels

Sittin’ Leather

Sat, 06 Mar 2021 14:52:00 GMT

How is your sittin’ leather holding up?

Sittin’ leather was an idiom used by an older generation in my family to talk about patience, as in: “That child will never catch a fish. She doesn’t have enough sittin’ leather .” This comment was generally directed at my younger sister, Cathy, who was known to be energetically daredevilish and averse to spending a long afternoon with our grandparents’ siblings dipping bamboo poles in the river behind Uncle Fritz’s farm.

The oldsters had a semi-permanent setup on the riverbank—an outpost born of Depression Era ingenuity. Old farm equipment had been repurposed into outdoor furniture: camp stools cobbled together from rusted plow parts and metal tractor seats. Viewed from a distance, it looked like an avant garde sculpture garden. Up close, it was all uncomfortably utilitarian. The oldsters would beckon the youngsters to accompany them on a walk from the farmhouse, through the cornfield, and to the water’s edge. They would plop straw hats upon our heads to protect us from the sun, bait our hooks with nightcrawlers because we were squeamish, and help us cast our lines. But after that first flurry of activity, we were then expected to settle in, quietly, and wait. Wait. Wait. Wait as the sun beat down. Wait as the improvised steel chairs heated up. Wait as iridescent green bottle flies whizzed around us.

I think it was the indeterminate length of the waiting that caused the greatest exasperation for us as elementary school-aged kiddos.

“How long do we have to sit still?”

“As long as it takes to catch supper.”

“How long will that be?”

“It will be as long as it will be.”

“Will it take as long as a Scooby-Doo cartoon? Or as long as Lawrence Welk ?”

“I don’t know, but if you keep scaring the fish away by talking, it will take longer.”

I don’t think that I am any more or less patient by nature than my sister is. Just more lethargic. This is probably why there’s a picture of me in a family album proudly displaying a 24” catfish, but not one of Cathy doing the same. No doubt, she ran out of sittin’ leather and sprinted off to turn cartwheels, chase butterflies, and find trees to climb.

The capacity of our sittin’ leather has been vigorously tested for a full year now as we arrive at the first anniversary of our world locking down against the forces of pandemic pestilence. Tedious all along, this entire 12- month period of quarantining and isolating and limiting and modifying has seemed interminable. And yet, here we are. We have made it this far, though not without struggle and worry and sorrow and distress. We have lasted this long, though not without boredom.

Patience, though, seems to be the exact thing we need to practice diligently for a little while longer. The end of the Covid-19 epoch is apparent! Hope is on the horizon, and the horizon isn’t as obscured as it once was! Still, because we are called to care deeply for one another—called to love our neighbor with at least the same intensity that we love ourselves—we need to find the fortitude to see this through to the end. To let loose of our good discipline now would be premature. Be encouraged, and keep up your mask-wearing, hand-washing, distance-keeping practices.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Galatians 6:9

The time for cartwheels and butterflies and fresh adventures will come soon, but for the indeterminate number of weeks ahead, we simply must not give up on catching supper, on staying seated and quiet until the creel is full and the mission is completed.

Enduringly,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

March 7, 2021– 10:00 AM

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Parking Lot Worship

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Hazmat

Sat, 27 Feb 2021 22:40:00 GMT

We had a little bit of excitement yesterday. A relic of an oil tank, long-since decommissioned from active use and catastrophically overcome by rust, spilled its remaining contents upon the basement floor of the church parsonage. A whiff of petroleum was the first sign that something was amiss. The second clue came when we opened the basement door and noticed iridescent liquid pools where there should have been concrete. Darrell remarked, “It looks like the Exxon Valdez ran ashore down there!” And so it came to pass that Bethlehem Fire Department Engines 6 and 9, HAZMAT 1, and a BPD squad car all came together at the corner of Lorain and Locust to render aid. It was quite a spectacle.

I won’t keep you in suspense: We are fine! The house is a little worse for wear, but it is habitable. (We did take advantage of hotel accommodations, I’ll admit, because the odor was a little too obnoxious to live with overnight.) An environmental restoration company brought its expertise and hauled away the wreckage. For the time being, darling little microbes are devouring the oil remnants, a temporary vent is allowing for the escape of unwholesome fumes, and a powerful Hydroxyl Generator is purifying the rest of the air in the house. Crisis managed.

All of life is a learning experience. Over the last 30 hours I’ve learned that the only differences between home heating fuel and diesel engine fuel are crimson dye and taxability; that “combustible” and “flammable” are not exactly synonymous; and that firefighters are fantastic human beings (but I actually knew that already). The harshest lesson, though, is that neglecting to solve a problem in the short term often leads to an even bigger problem in the long run.

The tank should have been taken out years ago, it’s easy to realize now. Removing it was, I suspect, just one onerous task on a long list, and it would not have been skipped over intentionally. Probably, it kept getting pushed to the bottom because other tasks were more urgent or more interesting. This is how it goes sometimes.

When the restoration specialists cut apart the disintegrating tank to remove it in pieces, they noted that the inside of the vessel was coated in a layer of sludge. Possibly, they told us, the sludge was what kept the liquid from escaping through the rusted-out container for who-knows-how-long. Eventually, the sludge plug itself succumbed to physics, and when it blew, that’s when the problem was no longer ignorable.

Wanting to find something of spiritual value in the situation, I wonder if any of the metaphors stirred up here might be useful, especially in this season of Lent–rescue vehicles…restoration specialists…air purification…? “Sludge plug” seems to be especially evocative. Perhaps it’s a new term for the collective mess that comes from sins of omission: the good that was meant to be done but was left undone; the love that was intended to be shared but was not; the guilt that goes with it all. Before it does more damage, it can be dismantled! It can be confessed! It can be turned around! It can be cleaned up!

[Christ Jesus] has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son,in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. (Colossians 1: 13-14, NRSV)

In our household we are grateful for the work of all the emergency services personnel, the fellows from Rapid Response, the encouragement of the Eastern District Executive Board who offered to cover hotel expenses, and the responsive College Hill Board of Trustees. Of course, we thank God for bringing everyone safely through a slightly harrowing experience!

Feeling Safe and Thankful,

Pastor Chris

Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

February 28, 2021– 10:00 AM

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Parking Lot Worship

We’ll be collecting single-serve food items to support children at William Penn Elementary School.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Soup

Sat, 20 Feb 2021 10:58:00 GMT

The very first meal prepared in the very first home Darrell and I shared after our wedding was “Chicken Broccoli Rice Soup for Two,” a recipe I followed verbatim from a cookbook now long gone. Over the years, the recipe evolved into “Chicken Broccoli Rice Soup for Three,” and “Chicken Broccoli Rice Soup for Four,” and eventually, it came to be known as “Chicken Broccoli Rice Soup Made in the Big Pot.” Just last evening, a batch simmered indoors on the stove while outdoors we cleared away yet another layer of winter precipitation before it hardened into passage-blocking icebergs. When we came back inside, the scent met us at the door. After a round of shoveling, a bowl of our family favorite offered restorative powers.

Soup is like that—warm and comforting and curative. It’s adaptable and expandable and accommodating. Just add in a few potatoes and a bit more broth.

Soup is a sacrament, almost, sometimes.

In a Covid-free world, the season of Lent would be ushered in not only with recognizable rituals like the imposition of ashes or the experience of Holy Communion, but also with the homey ladling of chowder or chili served up with good hunks of bread during Wednesday evening bouts of table fellowship. In church basements and halls across the land, there would likely be prayer services or study groups, but probably the most authentically significant rite would be the sharing and slurping of soup together. As we circle back to our second disrupted Lenten cycle in the Pandemic Era, we lament not being able to participate in the familiar practices that nourish our faith lives.

What to do? Perhaps there is significance to be found in the intentional act of making a pot of soup, not just for the sake of dinner, but for the sake of spiritual expression. Beginning from scratch or from the bounty of a can pulled from the pantry shelf, what might it be like to assemble the ingredients deliberately, heat the mix slowly, and stir it purposefully? What might it be like to be prayerful while it simmers gently, its aroma increasing and lifting heavenward in curls of steam? What might it be like to breathe in this incense, and to let it linger while fixating on this thought:

Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions . ~Matthew 6: 33 (The Message)

This is the heart of the Lenten discipline, to meld the flavors of faith by being steeped in Christ’s presence. As a slow simmer allows a soup’s savor to develop, what richness might come from a person of faith simmering in this very verse for a while? What might the Easter results be for someone who is seasoned throughout the season of Lent? How might such a recipe evolve?

Stirring Constantly,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

February 21, 2021– 10:00 AM

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Parking Lot Worship

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Ashes

Sat, 13 Feb 2021 16:52:00 GMT

In a tiny plastic packet looking ever so much like a miniature Ziplock sandwich bag are the burnt remains of something that had once been alive—green branches dried to brown and then incinerated. They are the cinders to be ceremonially smudged on foreheads: the ashes of Ash Wednesday notoriety. When purchased commercially, in case you were wondering, a pouch weighing a mere .6 ounces promises to provide up to 100 applications. The sachet’s contents are milled to such a fine consistency that they feel silky to the touch, like baby powder. When burned in a tin can set out on the driveway and run through an old coffee grinder, the results are less refined.

I’ve learned these things by trial and error over the years as I’ve fumbled around, when requested, to offer “imposition of ashes” as a way to literally mark the beginning of Lent. Although it has been a meaningful practice for countless Christians since the 6 ^th century, I’m not aware of it being widely observed in the Moravian churches I’ve been a part of until relatively recently. I don’t mind that there has been rising interest in the ancient custom, or that we draw inspiration from our ecumenical siblings. I’m just saying that making preparations for the ritual is not second nature to me. The meaning and purpose, not to mention the rubrics, are not something I know by heart like, say, the whole routine that goes with getting myself to a cemetery—God’s Acre—before dawn on Easter Morning. That I can manage on autopilot. Its message of resurrection hopefulness is woven into the fibers of my being.

But ashes? I have to think hard about what they represent.

Ashes are remnants—leftover dregs of something that used to be. To get to an ashen state, the thing itself has to be destroyed. The matchstick? The axe-split log in the fireplace? The whole forested hillside? To result in ash, the thing must be ruined to a point where it cannot be put back the way it was.

The idea behind Ash Wednesday is the notion that we carry within ourselves things that would best be given up as kindling to the flames—attitudes, thoughts, and recollections of actions that cause separation between ourselves and other human beings, and between ourselves and God. The shorthand word for this sort of stuff is “sin.” When we intentionally choose to reduce such stacked-up kindling to rubble and endeavor to stop collecting it, the short hand word for this is “repentance.” The soot of Ash Wednesday is a reminder of the process. The shape of the cross traced with the ashes is a reminder that, in Christ, the person who undergoes the process will never be the same again! And neither will that person ever be beyond the graceful love of Jesus Christ. Ever.

After a fire—after destruction–ashes contribute to a hospitable environment in which new growth can begin to flourish. In nature, ashes rebalance the soil and allow for healthy development of life going forward. Of course, this is what we desire from a life enriched by faith!

Now it’s time to change your ways! Turn to face God so he can wipe away your sins, pour out showers of blessing to refresh you, and send you the Messiah he prepared for you, namely, Jesus. ~Acts 3: 19-21 (The Message Bible)

If you would like to spend a moment in penitent prayer and receive a tangible daub of ashes upon your forehead, I will station myself in the church parking lot this coming Wednesday—Ash Wednesday—from 12:30 to 1:30 p.m., and again from 5:30 to 6:30 p.m., weather permitting. I will be located near the exit. Please pull up, remain in your vehicle, wear your mask, and lower your window. I’ll impose the ashes with a single-use cotton swab. If you would prefer to engage in prayer only, that will be fine, too.

Whether or not you stop by for a drive-through observance, I do hope you’ll set aside some time on Wednesday to be thoughtful, to list those particular things you’d like to surrender as kindling to fire, and to contemplate the nourishing possibilities Jesus has in store. It might just be through trial and error that we come to appreciate practices that deepen and develop us as people of faith.

Fanning Flames,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

February 14, 2021– 10:00 AM

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Parking Lot Worship

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

It Snowed

Sat, 06 Feb 2021 20:38:00 GMT

You may have noticed. It snowed this week. It snowed in a grandiose way, ambitiously accumulating in remarkable amounts. It snowed, innocently enough, on Sunday afternoon. Just a tease. It snowed on Sunday night, respectably so for the tail end of January. It snowed on Monday, falling in opaque curtains that obscured the view from one neighbor’s house to another. It snowed silently on Monday night, and still on Tuesday. And even on Wednesday, crystals still chased around in the air.

You may have noticed. It buried the roadways and shrouded parked cars, rendering transportation impossible for all but plow-equipped vehicles and monster trucks. It piled high on rooftops, burdening many and collapsing a few.

You may have noticed. It achieved celebrity status for its magnitude. It earned Allentown a live broadcast during the Today show, and Nazareth a shoutout on Good Morning America . It landed the No. 2 spot on the list of “Worst Winter Storms on Record in the Lehigh Valley.”

You may have noticed. It subsided, eventually. Clothed in parkas and boots, and Peruvian alpaca hats with earflaps, folks emerged from their quarters to break the winter hush with the industrious sounds of shovels and snowblowers, and the cheerful giggles of children let loose to play.

Did you notice? Were you stunned by the height of the snowfall when you measured it with a yardstick on your own patio table? Were you awed by the grandeur of your own backyard? Were you amazed by the intricate effect that looked like wedding cake frosting on bare tree branches? Were you charmed by the pop-up igloos and mogul runs and button-eyed snowpeople sculpted artistically around the block?

Did you notice? Were you aware of how little control you had over the power of nature? Were you mindful that, no matter how hard you willed it, you couldn’t make it snow any less or any more? There’s nothing quite like a Nor’easter to humble us.

This is the Watchword for the week of February 7:

Our Lord is great and so strong!
God’s knowledge can’t be grasped! Psalm 147:5 (CEB)

If you didn’t experience humility this past week, you’ll have another chance soon. You may have noticed: The next Winter Weather Advisories have already been posted.

Perpetually Humbled and Frequently Astonished,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

February 7, 2021– 10:00 AM

Livestream on YouTube by searching for College Hill Moravian Church

Parking Lot Worship

Because of the impending snowstorm, there will not be any staff available to greet you or hand you a bulletin if you come to the parking lot on Sunday. But the worship service will be available to listen to on your radio should you choose to be present.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Search

Sat, 23 Jan 2021 16:03:00 GMT

To search is part of my daily routine. I search for my glasses. I search for my purse, and my debit card, and that pen I had in my hand just a moment ago. I search for the umbrella I’m certain is at the bottom of my tote bag. I search for the scotch tape, the spare cell phone charger, the half-used box of birthday candles, the tall bottle of balsamic vinegar. With every successful recovery, there’s a small victory. A fist pump. A way to move forward. With every failure, there’s a chance I’m going to end up in a bad mood.

The most urgent search effort I ever found myself conducting happened on the upper level of the Lehigh Valley Mall when a certain toddler undid the strap of his stroller as I browsed a sale rack in the J.C. Penney store. It’s a cliché to say this, but nonetheless true: I turned my back for only a second, and suddenly, my bright blonde three-year-old was gone! I whirled in a circle, taking in a quick 360° view of the women’s clothing department. No kid in sight.

My heart raced as sheer panic set in. I looked about for assistance. The closest staffed counter seemed a mile behind me, while only 12 steps in front of me beckoned the proscenium opening between the relatively contained store and the vast mall concourse. He could be anywhere! With anyone! I needed help, now!

I drew in a breath, intending that it would power my voice to call out loudly. But just as I was about to shout, I heard a stifled giggle. It bubbled up sweetly from within a circular rack loaded with a rainbow selection of polo shirts. Pushing aside the clothing curtain, there he was.

“You found me, Mommy!” Apparently, we were playing hide-and-go-seek, but he hadn’t informed me! I sat down on the floor, he jumped into my lap, and he hugged me around the neck while my adrenaline gave way to tears.

Sometimes, the stakes are high.

As I mentioned in my previous essay, I’ve been contemplating my 2021 Watchword. It’s a quote from Jesus. Every day when I read it, I picture that Jesus and I are sitting together at a table in the Panera Bread on Center Street—the particular café with its large windows offering a view of the ducks on Monocacy Creek. In this pleasant setting, I imagine Jesus saying these words as part of a comfortably deep conversation:

“Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.” Matthew 7:7

Search. What is it, I wonder, that Jesus is inviting me to search for? Surely, it can’t be the mundane things, although this imagined get-together reminds me that all of life’s moments are lived in Christ’s presence. But I suspect there is something more urgent in need of my attention. In this moment, what is imperative? What is directly in front of me that would spur me on with the same intensity inspired by an empty stroller? What is missing right now that needs to be pursued?

“What is it?” I ask my companion across the imaginary table.

He looks at me calmly with his head slightly tilted and his eyebrows raised as if to say, “Keep going. You’ll come to it.”

My mind sweeps back over the events of recent days and weeks, the searchlight landing on scenes both tumultuous and majestic, terrifying and uplifting. The images that captivate me right now are not especially personal, but rather, collective. And what grips me most is the gap: the gap between those who are elated and those who are devastated; the gap between our best selves and our worst impulses; the gap where hardly anybody at all seems to stand anymore. The gap is where the searchlight settles.

“Really?” I ask him. “I’m looking at a ravine. What is there to examine here?”

My companion leans in toward me, waiting for me to see it.

It comes to me. “Common ground?”

He settles back into his chair.

There you have it. Common ground. Blessed ground. Sacred ground.

I think I’m meant to search for and illuminate the footing that leads, not necessarily from one side to the other, but toward an outcome Jesus has in mind. It’s an outcome that steps us away, urgently, from the fissures that have been exposed and that threaten to swallow us up. At the same time, it’s an outcome that can’t ignore the fissures or try to cover them cosmetically. The search for common ground means we must name those fissures—systemic racism, burgeoning classicism, materialism, garden variety greed, lackluster compassion. The search for common ground involves comprehending the depth of the fissures and being moved by the damage they’ve caused in the souls of all people. God’s people.

This search for common ground is urgent for our times. It should get our adrenaline going. And yet, maybe it should also be routine. Maybe it should be as commonplace as my everyday quest to find my car keys.

Search with me, will you?

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

January 24, 2021

Parking Lot Worship

72 W. Laurel Street, Bethelehem, Pennsylvania

10:00 AM

Livestream

Search YouTube for College Hill Moravian Church

10:00 AM

Ask

Sat, 16 Jan 2021 15:54:00 GMT

About once every four years for most of my life, my mom would tell me the story of January 20, 1961. She was 17-years-old, on the very cusp of turning 18, and a senior in high school. She and a few others cut class that day so they could gather at a friend’s house (where there was a decent TV) to watch the inauguration of President John F. Kennedy. The young women swooned over him because, well, you know—eye candy. But they were equally stirred by the vision he cast for a world at peace and free from tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself. They found themselves deeply inspired to ask not what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your country . They were breathless with all the possibilities of Camelot. Camelot, we know, did not survive its own idealism. Still, my mom always carried in her heart the hope for a beautiful future, if not for her generation, then for the next. And the next. And the next.

And so, at my mom’s urging, I cut class (or work) once every four years to pay attention to The Inauguration of whomever was being sworn in. Of course, I will be watching on Wednesday. I don’t imagine it will look much like Camelot, what with 9’ tall fencing topped off with razor wire and some 20,000 or so National Guard members scattered about the perimeter.

I might cry. If I do, it will not because of disappointment or elation at the results of an election, but because of the sheer solemnity of the moment. I will pray. When I do, it will be that we find our way forward—together—even as “we the people” are presently mired in conflict and animosity. And I will ask. I will ask the meaningful questions about how I might be part of the solution, not for my own sake, but for the sake of neighbors and community and, yes, country.

A few weeks ago, I practiced the beloved Moravian custom of selecting a Watchword for the New Year—a blindly-drawn verse of scripture through which to focus my attention. I’ve been contemplating it daily:

Jesus said, “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.” Matthew 7:7

The word that captures my attention today—the one that seems to be set off from the rest as if it were outlined in neon—is “ask.” Ask. Ask. Ask. It strikes me that in our deeply factionalized culture, there’s a lot of declaring and demanding going on, and not so much asking. From both sides of the divide, voices claim moral superiority and righteousness. There is persistent insistence that one side is right, the other is wrong, and that’s that.

But that isn’t that. Either/or is a false set of choices. Finding a mutually beneficial way through the muck, though, means being open to a fresh set of possibilities. Those can only be discovered, I suspect, when there is an openness to finding them. It’s when we are willing to stop making statements and start asking questions that we begin to uncover the stepping stones that have been obscured. If we can trade in certitude for curiosity, those stepping stones will become ever more visible.

Ask. Ask not that God would be on one side or another, but that we would be on God’s side! Ask not that God give us what we think is in our own best interest, but that God bless us with what God knows we need. Ask not that any nation would be above God, but that our nation would be humbled to honor God through pursuits that lead to peace and wholeness for all.

Keeping Hopeful,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

January 17, 2021

Parking Lot Worship

72 W. Laurel Street, Bethelehem, Pennsylvania

10:00 AM

Livestream

Search YouTube for College Hill Moravian Church

10:00 AM

Juxtaposition

Sat, 09 Jan 2021 16:26:00 GMT

I almost missed the insurrection.

Let me rephrase that. I did not see live TV coverage of the events that transpired outside and inside the U.S. Capitol on Wednesday. The ugly actions. The mayhem. During roughly the same timeframe in which the mob breached, swarmed, and desecrated the building and all that it stands for, I was mixing up a batch of Country Time Lemonade in the sacred kitchen of Bethlehem Emergency Sheltering.

It was my first time assisting with dinner prep for the 30 or so folks who would be seeking a hot meal and a safe bed at BES after having spent the day living on the streets. Four other seasoned volunteers showed me around the facility and taught me the drill. Mostly, I tried to stay out of their way as they turned ground beef and Tater Tots into an amazing feast.

At 5:00 p.m., the first seating got underway, with a second one set to begin at 6:30. In more ordinary times, all of the guests would crowd around tables together in the dining hall, but pandemic safety precautions call for the folks to spread out and keep distant these days. Those same precautions also prevent volunteers from circulating among the guests and eating with them, thus stifling some of the goodwill and comradery. Instead, the volunteers stay behind a Plexiglass shield that blocks most of the passthrough opening between kitchen and dining hall. Volunteers push disposable dinner trays through a narrow slot at the bottom of the shield and hope that kindness is conveyed through the food because all smiles go unseen behind masks. (Homemade, safely-bagged cookies do help.)

In spite of the equation in which barriers are added and human-to-human contact is subtracted, somehow the math works out in such a way that neighbors—guests and volunteers both—give and receive care, and no one goes to bed hungry.

By 8:00 p.m., the guests had filed out toward their sleeping quarters, the dishes had been washed, and the tables had been wiped down. I headed home just in time to turn on the TV and see congress resuming its agenda to certify results from the 2020 Presidential Election. In split-screen coverage, I saw footage of what had transpired while I had not been looking. I was horrified.

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Romans 12:21

At about this time a year ago, we practiced the beloved Moravian custom of selecting a congregational Watchword—a blindly-drawn slip of paper on which was printed a scripture verse meant to be a guiding focus for the year ahead. It was Romans 12:21. While I never had any trouble understanding the “do good” part of the text, I have been puzzling about the “overcome evil” portion for 12 months now. Until this very week, I felt a little bit twitchy about using the word “evil” as a descriptor for the mess that was 2020. The pandemic has been disruptive, unfortunate and deadly, but it is a virus. A virus is not evil. Societal upheaval has been distressing, calamitous, and gut-wrenching with its underlying causes fitting firmly into the category of sinful. But evil?

The juxtaposition of Wednesday’s events has struck me. As I pull back from the lone Watchword verse and widen the spotlight ever so slightly, I see this:

If your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Romans 12: 20-21

Wednesday’s attack does strike me as having been evil. I say this not so much because of the deplorable violence visible in scaled walls, smashed glass, and pooled blood beneath a dead body. I say this because of the chill that runs up my spine in seeing photos of the marauders’ faces as they stand on the dais in the House Chamber and put their feet up on the Speaker’s desk. Their expressions are not proud or victorious. They are malevolent.

And all of this happened while I was putting applesauce in disposable bowls and searching for the ice machine scoop.

Overcoming,

Pastor Chris

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Worship Opportunities at College Hill Moravian Church

January 10, 2021

Parking Lot Worship

72 W. Laurel Street, Bethelehem, Pennsylvania

10:00 AM

Livestream

https://youtu.be/L4sjHTUciJA or search on YouTube for College Hill Moravian Church

10:00 AM

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

This casual online gathering has taken root over the last few months and become a wonderful way to keep connected. Whether you’ve become a “regular” at these gatherings, or you’re thinking about dropping by for the very first time, please use the Zoom link and password provided below, or join by phone if you do not use a device with a screen.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

We are also continuing to offer Zoom Prayers on Sunday evenings at 6:30. We come together to share simply in intercessory prayer on behalf of our congregation, community, and world. We usually conclude by 7:00 p.m. All are welcome!

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Look Up!

Sat, 19 Dec 2020 14:28:00 GMT

Look up! A phenomenon is coming to a patch of sky near you! Saturn and Jupiter have been flirting, moving a little closer toward each other evening by evening. In the heavenly ballet, they’ll dance into each other’s arms on Monday once the sun clears the stage. When they do, the astronomical choreography will result in brilliance! The “great conjunction” of planets will inspire us from our earthly vantage point as the two will seem to shine as one: The Christmas Star.

Look up! The celestial configuration is rare, having last been visible in the year 1226. Remarkably, its last appearance was so long ago that it has never before been captured by a camera!

Look up! Let something so uncommon stir you. Let it capture your attention. Let it intrigue you to think about all of the other human beings on this planet who are looking up with similar amazement on the same night, and all of those who have gazed skyward through all of time. Let it remind you that you are small. And let it also remind you that you are part of something extraordinary: Creation.

Look up! Be drawn in. Be drawn into story. Be drawn into imagining what the experience might have been like for the ancients–people who knew nothing of flight, or Apollo missions, or Hubble telescope imagery, but who did seem to have an inkling that there was much to be learned by observing what takes place overhead.

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in the territory of Judea during the rule of King Herod, magi came from the east to Jerusalem. They asked, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We’ve seen his star in the east, and we’ve come to honor him…When they heard the king, they went; and look, the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stood over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were filled with joy. ~Matthew 2: 1-2, 9-10

Look up! Imagine that God is speaking through signs and wonders, just as God always has. Imagine that God is encouraging you to make new discoveries that will lead you ever toward more joy! Imagine that God is encouraging you to encounter Godself by encountering Jesus, the Christ!

Look up! Christmas is in the cosmos! Hope is in the air!

Always Looking Up,

Pastor Chris

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Livestream Worship

To join us for Sunday morning worship this week at 10 AM, please use this link: https://youtu.be/LHH1MxcaPNw

To join the Christmas Eve livestream service (prelude music at 4 PM, service at 4:30 PM), please use this link: https://youtu.be/TGuelkdqt8A

Still Happening: Parking Lot Worship

Sunday, December 20, Fourth Sunday of Advent

10:00 AM

God’s Love is Like a Blanket / Blanket Collection and Blessing

If you are able and would like to participate, please donate a NEW blanket, twin or full size. Blankets will be received as you enter the parking lot. They will be donated to New Bethany Ministries to be distributed.

Christmas Eve, December 24

4:00 PM, Live Music Begins

4:30 PM, Service Begins

Experience carol singing, a BYO Lovefeast, candlelight, and the Christmas story from the safe bubble of your own vehicle. Dress warmly and feel free to run your engine and heater as necessary. Remember to bring along seasonal treats for the folks in your vehicle for a BYO Lovefeast.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

In Silence

Sun, 13 Dec 2020 12:06:00 GMT

I had to give myself a timeout. I had to seat myself in a chair in the corner of the room and pipe down until my attitude could be readjusted. I had to quell the conniption. I had to settle myself from a psychic tantrum brought on by nothing more than a smidge of stress over the allotted limit. I had to be still. I had to be still and know that God is God. (Psalm 46:10)

What pushed me too far? I don’t think it was any one thing in particular, but rather cumulative concern for a weary world. In spite of the vibrant news that a vaccine designed to fend off the pestilence is imminent—a knight in shining armor charging to our defense on a speedy steed—the buildup of edginess had come to be one layer too many. One person too many struggling to breathe through an active case of Covid. One person too many fearing economic peril. One person too many flaunting disregard for another person’s well-being.

I had to withdraw. I had to turn down the dissonance, turn down the noise. I even had to turn down the ambient sounds of the season because they weren’t bringing me comfort or joy. They were causing annoyance.

I had to get quiet. I had to get silent.

For God alone my soul waits in silence,
for my hope is from him. Psalm 62:5

Silence is not something I typically crave. It is not my usual mode, as you probably realize. I’m perpetually full of clamorous thoughts chasing around in my mind, thoughts that are always on the verge of escaping as words. So many words. Words on paper. Words in song. Words in speech. Somebody once called me loquacious . I looked it up. I added it to my vocabulary. One more word about words.

It was unplanned, this retreat. It lasted for just an evening, this respite. It was restorative, this reclusion.

In the quiet, you might wonder, did anything profound happen? Did God whisper to me something I hadn’t been hearing through all the auditory clutter? Maybe just this: It is enough. Absorb the love. Accept the grace. Be at peace.

From my chair in the corner of the room—the one I had exiled myself to—I simply sat by the light of the Advent star glowing softly and found that peace. A prayer answered.

Quietly,

Pastor Chris

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Livestream Worship

Beginning today, December 13, worship services will be broadcast live from the sanctuary of College Hill Moravian Church. Sunday services begin at 10 AM.

Still Happening: Sunday Parking Lot Worship, 10:00 a.m.

December 13, Third Sunday of Advent

Join us in the parking lot of College Hill Moravian Church every Sunday morning where you may praise God from the safe bubble of your own vehicle. The service, broadcast from the church sanctuary and transmitted through your car’s radio, begins at 10:00 a.m. and lasts approximately 40 minutes. Attendants are on hand to make sure you have worship materials, receive your offerings, and help you find the best place to park. Smile and wave and worship!

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Fragile

Sat, 05 Dec 2020 17:30:00 GMT

Up from the basement and down from the attic we haul the curated cartons of Christmas–things to be unpacked, unfurled, and untangled on the way to creating seasonal splendor in the living room. The tree. The lights. (The extension cords. The timers. The 3M Command Adhesive Hooks.)

And then there are all of the precious things wrapped in crumpled tissue paper. The delicate things. The antique mercury glass orb handed down through several generations. The salt-dough-and-glitter candy cane ornament crafted by a beloved kindergartener in 1995. Every individual ceramic sheep, shepherd, Mary, Joseph, and mangerized baby Jesus from the heirloom nativity set. Every angel with fractured and repaired wings. Tenderly, the treasures get installed in their places of honor, the stories of why they’re so dear sometimes being recounted:

“Your great grandfather carved that figurine by hand from the old hickory tree out by the barn…”

“We put that one in your Christmas stocking the year you started playing the clarinet…”

“Oh! Look at that! We got it on our trip to New Mexico. Remember?”

We keep our keepsakes with great care because they are breakable. But even more so, we treat them gingerly because beautiful memories are fragile.

Maybe the reason for Christ Jesus coming to be with us—the whole incarnational thing of Christmas—is that people’s beautiful memories of God have always had a tendency to fade. They dissipate like wispy dreams when a dreamer awakes. As human beings, we seem to require something tangible to keep tabs on the intangible. The person of Jesus—and the baby person of Jesus at that—allows us to comprehend God in particular ways. The representation of Jesus in a putz or a creche or whatever it is you might call a nativity display gives us an annual opportunity to remember at least a snapshot of God—when all that Divine Love broke in on us.

God is not fragile. God’s people sometimes are. At any given moment, a person might be shattered or resilient, vulnerable or secure, burdened or intrepid. It strikes me that the balance shifts back and forth with a fair amount of fluidity. When we are the ones to offer care to anyone who needs it, or to receive care from someone who needs to give it, then we are participating in that whole incarnational thing.

Wouldn’t it be incredibly sad if, after putting up our beloved, splendid, fragile Christmas decorations, we were never moved to reach out to God’s beloved, splendid, fragile people? That would mean that we hadn’t really remembered God at all. That would be a travesty.

Of course, there are as many ways to share God’s love as there are lights on all of the trees in Bethlehem! But if you are looking for suggestions, our congregation has several projects currently underway. Details are outlined in our December newsletter, The Builder , available here: http://collegehillmoravian.org/the-builder/ You’ll see: opportunities to support orphaned children in Tanzania through the Adopt-A-Village program; ways to encourage children and teachers at the nearby elementary school by purchasing gifts from an Amazon Wish List; chances to help clients who make use of Bethlehem Emergency Sheltering with laundry needs; a way to give a “hug from God” through our new blanket drive on behalf of the transitional housing office of New Bethany Ministries…

Stoop down and reach out to those who are oppressed. Share their burdens, and so complete Christ’s law. ~Galatians 6:2, The Message

God Is With Us,

Pastor Chris

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Sunday Parking Lot Worship, 10:00 a.m.

December 6, 2nd Sunday of Advent

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Relight

Sat, 28 Nov 2020 04:02:00 GMT

In one of my earliest memories, my mama has pushed the couch out of the way so she can gain access to the front window. On the verge of ascending a stepstool upholstered in red vinyl, she holds a delicate Moravian star—manilla paper points connected with brass brads to a black cardboard armature. She and Grandpa had wrestled the kit into shape a few nights earlier, and Grandpa had cut and spliced the cord to a perfect length. Before stepping up to hang the 26-pointed orb, Mama tells me about the Star—that it represents the Light of God’s Love. She tells me it is so very special that it is only to be lit from the first night of Advent, through Christmas, and until the arrival of Epiphany. This is the way.

From that day, back when I was 4 years old or so, until March 2020, I abided by those instructions, enjoying the Light of God’s Love—but only ever seasonally. When the Covid Pandemic put a pall over all of our lives, I joined the movement to bring hope to a hurting world by lighting our household’s Moravian star in the middle of Lent. It seemed a little bit rebellious, breaking tradition so boldly; and yet, it seemed necessary. It seemed a way to exercise faith over fear, offering the glow of God’s countenance upon my neighborhood. It still does.

But on Saturday night, I will douse the light. For one evening, I will unplug. I will unlight the star, and then I will sit in quiet darkness, mindful of the light’s absence. And when I relight it on Sunday evening, I will stand contentedly in its glow, and I will pray…

Relighting the Light of God’s Love,

Pastor Chris

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Sunday Parking Lot Worship, 10:00 a.m.

November 29, 1st Sunday of Advent

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

All the Colorful Details

Sat, 21 Nov 2020 22:51:00 GMT

Thursday, as I’m sure you’re aware, will be Thanksgiving: Pandemic Edition. Most folks who occupy the middle third of our continent are making, breaking, and redesigning plans in order to celebrate the holiday somehow . Many have tossed aside travel itineraries, but will visit instead over Facetime or Zoom, each loved one bringing an individually plated pumpkin pie slice along to the screen. Some folks have been channeling their inner-Norwegians by learning to entertain safely in the chilly outdoors. Friluftsliv. These are the ones who have upgraded their garages with propane patio heaters, twinkle lights, spacious tables and piles of blankets, all in a bid to reduce the risk of re-breathing contaminated indoor air. Others have miniaturized their guest lists and, accordingly, have snapped up all of the available small turkeys. The holiday will go on, and it will be memorable if only because it is odd.

Besides being a holiday, though, thanksgiving is a practice, and one that far exceeds a single, measly day set aside for gratitude. Thanksgiving is about naming names. It’s about identifying all of the elements that add up to satisfaction and contentment, wonder and delight. It’s about discovering and appreciating all of life’s gifts. And it’s about crediting the One who hands out life’s gifts in the first place.

Everything comes from God;
Everything happens through God;
Everything ends up in God.
Always glory! Always praise! Yes. Yes. Yes. (Romans 11: 36, The Message)

Perhaps, at one time or another, you have participated in a Thanksgiving Day exercise in which all who are gathered around the table are asked to mention something for which they’re grateful. It’s meant to be a reflective pause. A precursor to prayer. Perhaps this has been a meaningful tradition for you. If it has been, please find ways to incorporate it even in a year of alterations. In my experience, however, even though well-intended, the ritual usually falls short of its potential. Those asked to speak their piece might feel self-conscious. Words fly right out of their heads and they are left to answer appropriately but unimaginatively, “Family.”

Everyone nods.

“That’s what I was going to say.”

“Me, too.”

And maybe the process gets rushed because the green bean casserole is getting cold.

If you are hoping to be more purposeful than that, I invite you to plunge deeper into the territory of your mind and heart. One method I enjoy when I’m trying to recall details and make connections is to “web” my thoughts. When I do this, one thing leads to another, which leads to another, which leads to another….

I start with a blank sheet of paper, a favorite pen, and a topic. In this case, “Thanksgiving.” I let myself free-associate everything and anything that floats through, and I rapidly jot down those fleeting bits: stories and scriptures and lyrics and quotes and inside jokes and serious notions and things that make me laugh and things that make me cry. It’s my habit to fill up a page with circled words and connection vectors, but plain old lists can work well, too. This is how I brainstorm with myself! I’ll do this for 10 or 15 or 20 minutes, or until the thoughts slow from a gusher to a trickle. When I’m done, I have a detailed, personalized, colorful collection of vivid memories and ideas! From there, I can launch into any project, any devotional essay, any sermon…

Or any prayer. This collection of colorful details is what I offer to God as my prayer of gratitude. This is the basis for my giving thanks. If it’s helpful to you, please give it a try. And if it’s helpful to the spirit of your Thanksgiving: Pandemic Edition, please encourage others in your dining room bubble, or your Zoom gathering, or your cold-but-cozy garage to give it a try as well. Share your responses and increase the connectedness of your pod.

The pandemic days can be harsh. It can be difficult to find the inspiration to want to be grateful. And yet, practicing gratitude is the way to uncover more peace, more perspective. Giving thanks generously is a way to knit together a closer relationship with God on Thanksgiving Day or every day.

Celebrating God’s Blessings,

Pastor Chris

Sunday Parking Lot Worship, 10:00 a.m.

November 22, Harvest Sunday and Non-Perishable Food Collection

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

BUG-EYED

Sat, 14 Nov 2020 17:00:00 GMT

If someone were to describe you as being “bug-eyed,” it would probably mean your face is reflecting surprise! Astonishment! Wonderment! It would mean your eyes are wide open with amazement, practically popping from your head as if you were an animated cartoon character, exuberantly impressed by what you’re seeing.

This past week I was bug-eyed, but in a more literal sort of way. My bug-eyed moment resulted in a trip to Express Care. It went down like this: When I awoke very early on Thursday morning, I could not open my left eye. In fact, the whole left side of my face was plump and puffy, rather like an oversized pink marshmallow. Alarmed, my good husband made a pre-dawn run to the store to snap up some Benadryl, but its effects were minimal, so we opted to seek out a professional opinion. I was quickly diagnosed with blepharitis , a condition which sounded instantly ominous. I began to mentally update my last will and testament as the physician assistant charted some notes.

She said, “I’ve been seeing a lot of this lately. Were you, by chance, recently spending time outdoors?” I had, in fact, been planting tulip bulbs in the parsonage yard the day before. “Did you notice if there were any gnats flying around?” Were there ever! Clouds and clouds of the tiny beasts. “There’s your problem,” she said. I had been bitten on the inside of my eyelid by a gnat!

Some more Benadryl, a few Zyrtec capsules and a couple of doses of steroids later, the swelling is gone and I can see again! Amen! (By the way, if you’re beefing up your medical vocabulary, blepharitis simply means “inflammation of the eyelid.”)

While I’m no longer bug-eyed in the literal sense, there are plenty of reasons to be figuratively bug-eyed, and to give thanks for all that is remarkable around me: people who care and are eager to help; health insurance provided by my employer and funded by the steady giving of my beloved congregation; access to excellent health care providers; easy availability of OTC and prescription medications; a car and devoted driver; a visiting adult child with the capacity to make me smile; cool running water and soft washcloths for compresses; Earl Grey tea and cinnamon toast for comfort…and the promise that this absurd episode will conclude with colorful spring blossoms!

What makes you bug-eyed? What astounds you, even if the lesson is born out of difficulty? With Thanksgiving approaching, perhaps you are being especially mindful about gratitude. But in a year that has been extraordinarily difficult for so many reasons, perhaps it is necessary to work a little harder at coming up with lists of blessings. Please be encouraged to see more than might be obvious, to look beyond what might be easily apparent. Be flabbergasted by the details and try to identify where God’s goodness shines through. Recognize what is ridiculous, and let the story play out. Laugh, if at all possible!

This is God’s work. We rub our eyes—we can hardly believe it ! Psalm 118:23 (The Message)

Perpetually Bug-Eyed,

Pastor Chris

+++++

Sunday Parking Lot Worship, 10:00 a.m.

November 15, Holy Communion

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Cluttered Prayers

Sat, 07 Nov 2020 17:12:00 GMT

Update: While I was beginning to upload this blog post, the pronouncement came that Joe Biden has been elected the 46 ^th President of our nation, and Kamala Harris, the Vice President. Thanks be to God for resolution. Let us continue to pray for our nation and its leaders, both current and transitioning. Let us pray for all who rejoice, and let us pray for all who feel despair. Especially, let us pray for restored unity and shared purpose.

Perhaps the words below are now moot, or perhaps they retain some relevancy, if not for today, maybe for a future period of waiting. Peace be with you, People of God. ~PC

+++++

I have started to write this post at least seven times. I sputter and stutter my way through a sentence or two before, ultimately, hitting the delete key. The contents of my mind seem to be strewn about like the contents of an overturned kitchen junk drawer, each item potentially useful but not linked in any meaningful way to any of the other items in the collection. I am scattered. Disconnected. I try to pray my way through, but I can’t seem to string words together.

I ask myself quite seriously, “Is this what it feels like to live with Attention Deficit Disorder?”—a condition which has never gripped me before.

“No. That’s not likely,” I tell myself. A snippet of an article surfaces, though. “Brain fog is a symptom of stress,” I recall. “It’s also a response to grief,” my memory whispers. Mentally, I step back and take a survey: the protracted election that hasn’t resolved easily; the sharp rise in Covid-19 cases all around us; the life shifts and personal losses I’ve experienced over the past year. Indeed! They do add up to stress and grief.

I suspect there are very few folks whose math works out differently. Stress and grief are as abundant as fallen leaves raked into piles on everyone’s tree lawns these days. If you find yourself resonating at all with what I’m describing, here is a bit of inspiration for you:

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good. Romans 8: 26-28

Let us be hopeful, even when it’s difficult to sort through the clutter of our thoughts and feelings.

Decluttering mind, body, and spirit,

Pastor Chris

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Sunday Parking Lot Worship, 10:00 a.m.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Restless Turtle

Sat, 31 Oct 2020 17:00:00 GMT

Snappy Johnson is our pet aquatic turtle, and she’s been especially restless in recent days. She’s usually a content creature, satisfied to make her home in an enclosure tucked into a little alcove just off the kitchen. Made from a modified plastic pond insert, her deluxe environment is a two-story setup featuring a swimming hole below and a patio above where she basks in the glow of a full-spectrum UV lamp. She sleeps, she swims, she eats—shrimp on a good day.

Once in a while, though, she has a bout of agitation that can’t be easily quelled. It seems to overcome her when there’s a shift in her environment—a seasonal change or a weather disturbance. A blue moon. In place of her typically calm demeanor, she’ll start a pattern of plunging madly off her dock and scrambling immediately back out of the water again. She’ll climb up on her back legs and try to toss herself over the side of the enclosure. If allowed outdoors, she’ll make a break for a flower bed and plow into the mulch, seemingly trying to nest comfortably–the reptile version of tossing and turning in bed, flipping the pillow over and pounding it into a shape that doesn’t quite relieve the sleeplessness. When she gets this way, I always feel that, if she had vocal cords, she’d let out a primal scream.

Lately, I’ve been feeling like a restless turtle. How about you?

The Pestilence is on the rise again, and not only in far off places. As I’m writing this, the city of Bethlehem lists 112 cases of Covid-19 within its boundaries. Looking at the interactive map on the website of Bethlehem’s health bureau, I see that every single neighborhood in this community has at least a few residents who currently have the virus and who are known to be capable of spreading it. Of course, we have no idea who is spreading virus asymptomatically. This makes me restless.

The tone of the presidential election is ugly, and questions about what will happen in the aftermath are unnerving. Will the process resolve the discord? Will we, as a nation, rediscover what we hold in common and rely upon our better impulses, or will we remain vehemently divided? This makes me restless.

Violence begetting violence in streets not far from here. A hurricane. An earthquake. A shaky stock market. These things make me restless, too.

And yet, like with Snappy Johnson who will soon settle down for a long winter’s brumation (the reptile version of mammal hibernation) because that is her nature, so too will human restlessness dissipate when we remember that the powers and principalities of this world do not hold final sway over God’s people. We put in the effort to shape this world in ways that are in keeping with God’s vision for humanity—a vision that reminds us to love God and love neighbor. But then there’s also this:

This world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come. Hebrews 13:14 (NLT)

When I put it in perspective, when I remember that God is bigger than a virus, an election, a natural disaster, or anything else this life can throw at me, it soothes my restlessness. It doesn’t absolve me from the responsibilities of discipleship, the work that goes along with trusting God’s goodness and following Jesus’ example. But it does pacify the turbulence.

In Pursuit of Tranquility,

Pastor Chris

++++++++++

Sunday Parking Lot Worship, 10:00 a.m.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

New Imaginings

Sat, 24 Oct 2020 20:34:00 GMT

How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity! Psalm 133:1

Beyond the Third of November

In the aftermath
we will need a new color scheme.
Shades of violet should suffice.
From the palette,
mingle the dab of blue, the smidge of red.
Blend.
Blend until agreeable.
Blend until insoluble.
Blend until indivisible.
Blend until beautiful.
Shade for solemnity.
Tint it for resilience.

In the aftermath
we will have to repair the canvas a bit
and reimagine the landscape:
neither red nor blue,
but streaked in the sunlight of promise—
the promise of a purple morning.

©Christine Sobania Johnson, 2020

++++++++++

Sunday Parking Lot Worship, 10:00 a.m.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Inspection Time

Sat, 17 Oct 2020 15:39:00 GMT

Dear Bethlehem Parking Authority,

Thank you kindly for the subtle reminder that, for the good of all, it is time to take my cute little Ford Fiesta in for an inspection. In fact, it’s ever so slightly past time to do so. Had it not been for your thoughtful note placed beneath my windshield wiper, I might have continued to tool along unwittingly, not even recognizing I had sped beyond the timeframe agreed upon a year ago when the certified mechanic put the safety and emissions stickers in place. Fining me a mere $20 is just the encouragement I needed to arrange an appointment and come back into compliance. (I must confess, though, that I did not receive the second ticket quite as enthusiastically as the first.)

Your irksome nudge has caused me to consider other areas of my life that could use a look under the hood. For example, I checked my credit card statement for automatic renewals on subscriptions I no longer need and cancelled a few. And I forced myself to schedule a couple of overdo medical screenings. So again, thank you.

Now that I have been attending to the temporal concerns of vehicles and finances, and the physical concerns of the body, it only makes sense that I would also see the need for a spiritual check-up. Just as the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania insists it is imperative to examine my car’s steering/suspension/brakes/horn and other automotive systems and to fix what isn’t passable, so too does scripture have a directive:

Test yourselves to make sure you are solid in the faith. Don’t drift along taking everything for granted. Give yourselves regular checkups. You need firsthand evidence, not mere hearsay, that Jesus Christ is in you. Test it out. If you fail the test, do something about it.

2 Corinthians 13: 5-7 (The Message)

And so, I’m assessing. I’m putting myself up on the lift and evaluating what it is I might be taking for granted. I’m putting those items on the diagnostic report and recommending a more diligent application of gratitude. And I’m surveying the ways Jesus lives in me, loves me, challenges me, works through me. In the areas where I sputter, where the engine just doesn’t purr, I’m tightening the connections with the adjustable wrenches of prayer and devotion. I’m repairing and maintaining and polishing up the fenders of my soul.

Once again, Bethlehem Parking Authority, thank you for bringing all of this to my attention. May it be well with you.

Most Sincerely,

Christine Johnson (a.k.a. Pastor Chris)

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Sunday Parking Lot Worship, 10:00 a.m.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

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Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

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To join by phone (no video), dial:

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Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Exhibit Fabrication Specialist

Sat, 10 Oct 2020 16:52:00 GMT

The Shedd Aquarium in Chicago has an intriguing job opening for an Exhibit Fabrication Specialist. Mind you, I do not possess even one qualification for such a position, and yet, the description has thoroughly captured my imagination. The gist of the job is to dream up and construct habitats where the facility’s creatures will live—habitats the public will view in order to learn about and appreciate the animals, their ecosystems, and their interconnectedness with all of LIFE. The EFS guides everything from design conception to color schemes, CAD drawings to model making, lighting choices to interpretive placards. The EFS gets to make the walrus comfortable and the jelly fish satisfied while at the same time keeping human visitors engaged and inspired.

In short, the Exhibit Fabrication Specialist gets to create an ideal world with every new project.

Wouldn’t that be a wonder, waking up every day and getting to conjure a copacetic existence for all? That would be sweet.

And yet, don’t we already have the capacity to do that? Don’t we have the choice every day, all day, to envision our own habitat in its ideal state? Don’t we have the option of trying to picture the world through God’s eyes, and then shaping and molding, coloring and contouring our actions to fit that ideal?

There is plenty about our habitat that is distressing; there is no need to further contribute to whatever is troubling or destructive. Maybe we ought to all think of ourselves as Exhibit Fabrication Specialists, working to refurbish God’s well-conceived schematics in the ways we care for Creation, the ways we work for justice, and the ways we love our neighbors.

Then justice will dwell in the wilderness,
    and righteousness abide in the fruitful field.
The effect of righteousness will be peace,
    and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever.
My people will abide in a peaceful habitation,
    in secure dwellings, and in quiet resting places.

(Isaiah 32: 16-18)

Fabricating A Godly World with You,

Pastor Chris

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Sunday Parking Lot Worship

Church Anniversary Sunday, October 11

BYO food and drink for our (modified for a pandemic) Lovefeast! Decorate your vehicles! Smile!

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

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Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Songbird Song

Sat, 03 Oct 2020 23:16:00 GMT

The noise is back. After a spell of quietude accompanying the early days of pandemic—the hush that came with planes, trains, and automobiles going nowhere because so many people remained homebound by rule—it’s hubbub as usual. The racket has ratcheted back up again, decibels being cranked like soundboard controls at a heavy metal concert. Healthy commerce means trucks on the roadways; schools in session mean busses rolling along.

And not all of the din can be attributed to the machinery of our environment. There are the recorded murmurs and cheers bringing to imaginary life the simulated “crowds” at televised, professional sporting events. There are fervent voices raised in demonstration and the antagonistic clamor of politics gone ugly.

I miss the quiet. Maybe the birds do, too.

According to a study published in Science and reported on CNN, birds in San Francisco behaved differently during the shutdown portion of the pandemic. They sang differently when the entire soundscape of the city piped down.

By analyzing traffic flow data from the Golden Gate Bridge, researchers found that vehicle crossings from April to May 2020 returned to levels not seen since 1954. While noise recordings are not available from the 1950s, researchers said this indicates that a brief but dramatic change in human behavior effectively erased more than a half-century of urban noise pollution.

Birds responded by producing higher performance songs at lower amplitudes, maximizing communication distance and salience. “We found that birds sang more softly when noise levels were lower and at shorter recording distances before and during the shutdown,” researchers said in the study. Even though the birds were singing more softly, the study found that communication distance nearly doubled, elevating species fitness and increasing mating potential. (https://www.cnn.com/2020/09/25/us/sf-birds-pandemic-singing-trnd/index.html)

I recall siting on the porch in late spring and remarking to my husband, Darrell, that the residential birds of Bethlehem seemed particularly sonorous, and he agreed. As it turns out, “The signal-to-noise ratio doubled in relative energy, which helps explain media reports suggesting that bird songs sounded louder during the shutdown,” the researchers said. It’s not that the sparrows and cardinals actually trilled with greater volume. It’s just that, because of reduced competition, we were better able to hear.

I suspect that something similar happens when we dampen the churning turbine sounds of our active minds long enough for a tranquil peace to take effect. It is in such an environment that we’re better suited to hearing what God has to say. It’s not that God necessarily communicates in a stronger voice, but rather that God’s voice has so much less interior babel to compete with.

Let me hear what God the Lord will speak,
for he will speak peace to his people,
to his faithful, to those who turn to him in their hearts. ~Psalm 85:8

Being Still and Knowing That God is God,

Pastor Chris

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Sunday Parking Lot Worship

World Communion Sunday, October 4

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Remodeling Job

Fri, 25 Sep 2020 19:42:00 GMT

I try to stay informed. I truly do. I try to stay informed about the edgy issues of climate collapse and racism and how the heck Carson Wentz is gonna pull it together and get the Eagles out of their slump. I try to stay informed about the candidates and about the status of my mail-in ballot for the upcoming election. I try to stay informed about the latest numbers posted on the Covid dashboards of Johns Hopkins University of Medicine, and the Pennsylvania Department of Health, and Moravian College, and the Bethlehem Area School District. I try to stay informed about how all of the people in my orbit are getting along—church family, family-family, extended church family, 1103 Facebook contacts, actual neighbors, and who-knows-how-many flesh-and-blood friends. I try to stay informed about controlling spotted lantern flies, questionable charges on my credit card summary, how to eat more plant-based foods, and which plastics I’m allowed to contribute to our current recycling program.

When my mind needs a respite from trying to stay informed, there’s HGTV. Similar to the way watching televised golf affects me, having HGTV on provides the background hum that allows my brain to shift into neutral for a while. It calms me down, chills me out, and cheers me up.

While there is something vicariously satisfying about seeing others swing sledgehammers into drywall, or cut tile with a wet saw, what soothes me greatly is the message of hopefulness inherent in every program. Whether it’s a show about house hunting in Houston or renovating a property in Providence, every episode progresses from confusion to clarity, from chaos to coherence. All of the jumbled mess gets sorted out, all of the challenges get resolved. Oh, to allow any of these celebrity designers or realtors the run of my household. The run of my existence. Aaaahhhh. It’s a lovely fantasy.

Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Colossians 3:16

Even more promising, though, is this recommendation offered in an ancient letter that still holds timeless: be generous in your square footage allowances for having Jesus’ intentions in your life. Have enough closet space for his teachings. Furnish the place with compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline, even-temperedness, forgiveness, and love. Organize around the priorities of peace and gratitude. Allow the life you inhabit to be a custom creation of the Creator. (See Colossians 3: 12-17).

The well-being that comes from having Christ inhabit heart and mind is what allows for all other chunks of information to be checked at the reclaimed, hand-stained, timber-framed front door. The news, the data, the anecdotes, the opinions, the statistics, the lore, the memories, the details—every bit of it should be allowed over the threshold only if it is in keeping with the one who has the run of the house.

Remembering to Wipe My Feet,

Pastor Chris

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Sunday Parking Lot Worship

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to:

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Pesto

Sat, 19 Sep 2020 12:21:00 GMT

One of the last kitchen rituals of summer in our household is to pulverize basil leaves, Parmesan, and walnuts, along with a generous pour of olive oil, into pesto. We spoon it into small containers, stash it in the freezer, and hope that the batch will see us through until we repeat the process next year. Tossed with pasta, green pesto is our family’s go-to sauce, so much so that the first time one of our kids was invited to eat dinner at a friend’s house, he was confused when he was served a plate of spaghetti. “Mom! It was so weird,” he reported. “The sauce on the noodles was red !” In his experience, marinara was unconventional.

I recalled this snippet of conversation and smiled as I counted out the 40 basil leaves required by my recipe. How many times had that same child been the one to do the counting? How many times had that same son been the one to water the herbs in the garden all summer long and tend them until harvest? The tasks themselves, the parent-child time invested over the years, the delicious meals shared at the joyful family table—all of these moments shaped his worldview, his baseline, his version of “normal.”

Dear friends, let’s love each other, because love is from God, and everyone who loves is born from God and knows God. The person who doesn’t love does not know God, because God is love. 1 John 4: 7-8 (CEB)

Recently, I was part of an engaging group discussion in which the question was posed: “Did you grow up knowing the ‘scary’ God or the ‘loving’ God?” While there is no doubt in my mind or heart that my worldview, my baseline, my version of normal has always been shaped by the understanding that God IS LOVE beyond human comprehension, I was touched by the stories of those for whom that has not always been so. Other folks in the group spoke of being raised with the notion that God seemed to always be poised to reprimand them, or at least God’s representatives here on earth were prepared to dole out punishment for any supposed infraction. In their experience, it seemed, Unconditional Love was unconventional. Fear was the prevailing force, the primary motivator. It’s a hard thing for me to imagine, and it saddens me that this would have ever been anyone’s introduction to God. I don’t find fear to be motivational.

Thankfully, I suspect all of these particular people would say that they have, subsequently, come around to the concept that to live in grace is a delight. I suspect that they have come to know a loving God as their version of normal. At least, I hope they have.

Which was your early experience of God? Scary? Loving? Something else? What adjective do you use currently to describe God? How do you react to the thoughts expressed in 1 John 4? Do you trust the statements? Do they resonate with you? Would you like them to?

I wonder sometimes—quite a lot, actually—how much each person’s formative experiences contribute to the animosity that has come to mark the times. As summer officially gives way to fall, it is not the only seasonal change we face. It is back-to-school season and election season and flu season, and each variation is wrapped with a layer of pandemic anxiety heightened by the likely escalation of a dreaded second wave of Covid-19. The attitudes we each carry, the behaviors we each exhibit, the values we each cling to, the beliefs we each hold fast—are they always influenced by how thoroughly each of us has marinated in one sauce or the other? In fear or in faith?

Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—
how good God is. Psalm 38: 4 (The Message)

Pesto or marinara? In matters of food preference, it doesn’t have to be an either/or proposition. It could be neither. It could be both. Until someone is introduced to both tasty dishes, though, how would they know that there is even a choice to be had? For anyone who has not known the flavor of Unconditional Love, I have enormous hope that they might have a taste. And a little more. And a little more. I have enormous hope that the remarkable flavor of Unconditional Love will overpower any other sensations and become the new version of normal.

Savoring Goodness

Pastor Chris

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Sunday Parking Lot Worship

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Seismology

Fri, 11 Sep 2020 13:25:00 GMT

God is a safe place to hide,
     ready to help when we need him.
We stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom,
     courageous in seastorm and earthquake,
before the rush and roar of oceans,
     the tremors that shift mountains.

Psalm 46: 1-2 (The Message)

Did you feel it? According to the U.S. Geological Survey, the Lehigh Valley rattled a little bit on Wednesday night when a 3.1 magnitude earthquake trembled beneath Freehold, New Jersey. It doesn’t seem to have caused much damage, but it was an unusual event in these parts. If it shook you awake at 2 a.m., I suspect it was disconcerting.

I have only one memory of experiencing an earthquake, albeit a mild one. At the time, my workspace was on the second floor of a commercial office building. I was sitting in my wheeled desk chair and tapping away on the computer keyboard when, stunningly, the chair rolled me from one side of the room to the other. The floor didn’t seem to shake so much as tilt for a couple of seconds. When it was over, I stepped into the hallway where I met my slightly dazed co-worker. Simultaneously we asked, “Was that an earthquake?” We were more incredulous than worried, more puzzled than frightened.

Of course, it was fortunate that the quake caused very little damage, and I had the luxury of viewing it as an interesting incident rather than a chronic concern (as it is for folks who live in, say, Southern California) or a life-shaping tragedy (as it has been for our brothers and sisters in, say, Nepal).

It’s been six months since most of us felt the initial jolt of Covid-19, six months of quaking instability, six months of wobbling insecurity. In that time we’ve grown accustomed to seeing daily versions of spikey charts used by public health officials to track coronavirus cases—charts that look a lot like seismograph printouts. As I review the graphics provided today on the Pennsylvania Covid-19 Dashboard, the lines look less violent. Our immediate region seems to have settled into a time of respite, a time of relative calm. There’s a sensation that the figurines have stopped vibrating on the shelves, that the windows have stopped shattering, that it’s safe enough to step on the street without fearing a chasm will open up.

We want it to be so. We want to trust that the ground beneath our feet is solid. We want to let our guard down. We want life to be normal. We want the crisis to be in the past.

A big problem with earthquakes, though, are the aftershocks, and aftershocks can also leave a population scrambling to brace itself in a doorway. It’s possible that an aftershock can be even more devastating than the initial quake.

Like geologists reading the earth’s rumbles in hope of providing early warnings to minimize the impact of a high-magnitude quake, epidemiologists and other knowledgeable medical professionals offer predictive warnings to the Covid-infected world. The warnings remind us that we are still living on the fault line of a vicious disease. An aftershock will undoubtedly come. But we are not helpless. We have the capacity to minimize the magnitude simply by choosing the course of our own actions. Human behavior, in most cases, has little power over earthquakes. But human behavior can wield a measure of control over this disease!

The psalm at the top of the page reminds us that we can “stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom” because God will provide our help. The fearlessness is about knowing that, no matter what, we are secure in being fully loved by the Creator. We can curl up in a ball and hide in that love! It is imperative to remember, though, that the help we are promised may well be delivered through the voices of gifted researchers, brilliant doctors, and dedicated public health administrators! Stand fearless, indeed, through all of the challenges that materialize, but use the information at your disposal to fend off the ones you can. Be diligent in the safety protocols that keep our households healthy and our neighbors safe. And be patient. This continues to be a most worthy spiritual discipline.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

Psalm 46: 1 (NRSV)

Unshaken Even in Shaky Times,

Pastor Chris

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Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Al Fresco Blessing

Sat, 05 Sep 2020 19:55:00 GMT

The Lord Bless you and keep you. ~ Numbers 6:24

Here’s a cheerful development in these unsettling times: Picnics are trending. Because fresh air is restorative, especially when compared to potentially virus-polluted indoor air, al fresco dining is the way to go. As with camping, golfing, biking, and other such outdoor activities, picnicking has seen a popularity surge during the Summer of 2020 that is expected to continue as long as the weather remains pleasant. In fact, interest in picnicking has led to such increased attention to picnic accessories that vintage picnic hampers from the original Longaberger Basket Company are once again selling at top dollar. (For anyone who ever collected such wares, take note!)

Just yesterday, my husband Darrell and I went on a mini-expedition and hiked a trail along the Bushkill Creek through Henry’s Woods at Jacobsburg State Park. Following the orange trail blazes deep into the forest, I was surprised to come across an historical marker describing the very spot where the Henry family enjoyed outdoor dining around the turn of the 20 ^th century. In the spring of each year, apparently, a wooden table and benches were transported by rowboat from the family home to the chosen location where the furniture stayed for the duration of the picnic season. In July and August of 1891 alone, the family hosted 27 intrepid ventures to the remote spot where they shared both nature and good eats with their guests. White linens, French enamelware dishes, silver cutlery, and all the other trappings of the Victorian age got packed in and out of the site with every visit.

My guess is that things will be a little less formal among the teachers and staff of William Penn Elementary School when they take their classroom breaks over the next few months, but they will picnic never-the-less. As schools everywhere have had to tweak, adjust, and reconfigure in order to accommodate having both kiddos and grown-ups back in the classroom safely, every building’s nooks and crannies are being fully exploited. Straining the boundaries of the faculty lounge in the era of social distancing, where else could a devoted school teacher eat lunch but outside of the building? To assist in resolving the problem of a too-small-space, our College Hill family will be lending two of the behemoth tables from our own picnic grove to our neighborhood school from now until the snow flies. We do so graciously, gleefully, and in partnership.

As I stepped out among the picnic tables in the church yard to snap the picture posted above, it occurred to me to offer a blessing over them before they are put in to service at William Penn: Gracious God, as these tables have served up nourishment of body, mind, and spirit every time the church family has come together in laughter, joy, and love, let the same be true for their use elsewhere in our neighborhood. Keep the kiddos and the grown-ups of our elementary school safe, healthy, and resilient as they teach, learn, and grow. We thank you for all good gifts, including picnics conducted among friend colleagues and set in the open air of your creation. Amen.

Be safe. Be well. Be blessed.

Pastor Chris

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Happening This Weekend…

Parking Lot Worship

Sunday Mornings, 10:00 a.m.

From the church parking lot and the safe bubble of your own vehicle, tune to 98.5 FM and listen to live worship being broadcast from inside the College Hill sanctuary! If you’d like to participate, please arrive in the parking lot no earlier than 9:30 a.m. for the 10:00 a.m. service. Follow the instructions from your Parking Attendants, and praise God from the safe bubble of your car.

Following worship, if this is of interest to you, stick around to purchase Grocery Gift Cards and support the church’s fundraising efforts. To do so, please remain in your car at the end of the service and Joe & Caroline will come to you with Giant, Weis, and Valley Farm cards. Please have your cash or checks ready.

Parking Lot Worship Services are recorded and made available for viewing on YouTube.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Collision Course

Sat, 15 Aug 2020 16:11:00 GMT

It was a year ago this week that I found myself stranded in the intersection of Elizabeth Avenue and Linden Street, my car’s front bumper having clattered to the ground when clipped by a navy blue, quad-cab, jacked up, pickup truck that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. “Nowhere,” it turned out, was the Dunkin’ Donuts across the street from Liberty High School where the teenage driver had chosen to grab an iced coffee on her way to work, even though she was already late for her shift. In a hurry and piloting her father’s indestructible rig, she chose to turn left out of the DD in an attempt to cross three lanes of traffic in order to turn right. She did not take into account that I was already occupying the space.

My initial response, I confess, was unkind.

The police arrived, determined no one was injured, moved us all out of the intersection, and started in on an hour’s worth of investigation and documentation. In the meantime, several passersby stopped to check on my welfare. Their actions were quite kind and served to soften my heart. In the time it took to complete the paperwork and issue a ticket, I got my groove back. I wandered over to where the teenager was sitting alone on the curb in front of the high school. Although the fender bender had clearly come about as the result of her bad judgement, it truly had been an accident. She was as upset as me. And so I offered an apology for my knee-jerk reaction. Having been affected by the kindness of others, I remembered there was no need to perpetuate my frustration on this young woman who was already fretting what her father and her boss would have to say.

As I mentioned at the top, this all took place a year ago, well before I knew it would become my joy to be called as the pastor of College Hill Moravian Church. The passersby, it turned out, were folks on their way home from Sunday morning worship at College Hill. Bringing the parable of the Good Samaritan to life, it was Kim Derby and Nena Asquith who came to my aid, who hung around in the aftermath, who helped soothe my rattled nerves and settle the disorientation that comes with such events. I was grateful that day, and I still am!

I know it is disappointing to many folks that we do not get to be in church during these pandemic days. But that doesn’t stop us from being the Church out on the street. Or even in the street, as the case may be. In his translation of The Letter to the Hebrews, Eugene Peterson is expansive and expressive in reminding us that Christian discipleship is not attached to the interior of any building–church or otherwise. The Gospel message of self-giving love isn’t contained indoors on an altar.

So let’s go outside, where Jesus is, where the action is—not trying to be privileged insiders, but taking our share in the abuse of Jesus. This “insider world” is not our home. ..

Make sure you don’t take things for granted and go slack in working for the common good; share what you have with others. God takes particular pleasure in acts of worship—a different kind of “sacrifice”—that take place in kitchen and workplace and on the streets.

Hebrews 13:13-16 The Message

Some days it feels as though we’ve been in a car collision! This pandemic has left us feeling disoriented, spun around, and dazed. As we process news and rumors and information and opinions, there is tension. As we are forced to halt in our tracks and pull over to the side of the road when we would prefer to continue on our way toward another destination, we feel discouragement. Sometimes our reactions can be unkind. Let this be a reminder that we are called to something better. We are called to be more Jesus-y than that.

A year from now, I hope it turns out that we will all carry with us a story about how we may have offered encouragement, empathy, and assistance to someone who had crashed in the intersection of Life Avenue and Stress Street. And I also hope it turns out that we will carry stories about how we may have received measures of the same. I hope it turns out that we will be grateful for the goodness that comes from our street encounters, and that when we experience goodness, we recognize God’s presence.

With God’s Bumper-to-Bumper Protection,

Pastor Chris

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Happening This Weekend…

Parking Lot Worship

Sunday Mornings, 10:00 a.m.

Parking Lot Worship Services are recorded and made available for viewing on YouTube.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

This casual online gathering has taken root over the last few months and become a wonderful way to keep connected. Whether you’ve become a “regular” at these gatherings, or you’re thinking about dropping by for the very first time, please take note that the Zoom link has changed and a Password is now required. Please find the new information below. I expect to use the same link each week. (I’ve learned not to make too many promises during the pandemic, though!)

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Moravian Church Without Walls

Moravian Church Without Walls (MCWW) will return to offering a virtual service open to all at 11:00 am ET on Sunday, August 16. MCWW has hosted a Zoom webinar service featuring a different Moravian congregation each Sunday since early March. Following a two-week hiatus, MCWW will feature the worship of Dover First Moravian Church in Dover, Ohio, led by pastor John Wallace.

The webinar begins at 11:00 a.m.; click this link: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/310492867 to join the service. We encourage you to log in early. We are using the Zoom videoconference service, which allows those with a computer, smartphone or tablet to participate. You may need to install a program on your device to access the Zoom stream. For information on what you need to make Zoom work on your system, visit www.zoom.us.

Storage Needs

Sat, 08 Aug 2020 13:26:00 GMT

I cleared out some drawer space the other day, not because organizing professionals suggested it would bring me joy to uncover the minimalist buried deep inside my soul, but because I needed a place to store masks.

It’s absurd, isn’t it, that this would have become a need? In five months, I have moved from using a makeshift bandana, to wearing a lovingly handcrafted face covering made of cotton and hard-to-obtain elastic, to placing an Etsy order for a “special occasion accessory” made of Czech lace, to amazoning multi-packs cut from comfy t-shirt material. I prefer the ear-loop style, while my husband has been trying out neck gaiters. And isn’t that an absurdity, too? To have already grown so accustomed to wearing masks that we have come to settle on a favorite type?

Masks aren’t the only items accumulating in many houses. There are the added totes and bins where folks who are still working from home have learned to stash their office files and equipment. And as school is about to ramp back up again, either with a hybrid design or an all-virtual one, families will be back to haggling over who gets to set up at which end of the kitchen table and needing to slide homeschooling supplies into laundry baskets when its time to clear off the table for dinner.

With all of the cabinets and closets and dressers being filled up with the stuff of our pandemic reality, here’s a quandary: where is all the baggage being stored? I mean, of course, emotional baggage. Who has room to stash all the apprehension brought on by having to make consequential decisions all day, every day? Who has room for the swelling anxiety that comes with choosing safety over education, or education over safety. Who has room for the worry, the tension, the foreboding? Short of renting a climate-controlled storage unit to contain all the restlessness, what’s a person to do?

Pray?

It might seem like a simplistic suggestion at first. It might seem like the sort of platitude a minister is expected to offer. You might be surprised to learn, though, that it’s not always the first solution I turn to. I am capable of stuffing my heavy concerns and deep fears in the nightstand by the side of my bed until its shelves burgeon with burdens. When I can no longer overlook the problems, it eventually occurs to me that I can declutter. Finally, I pray. When I do, I am whole lot better for it. I almost always wish I would have done so sooner!

Cast all your anxiety on God because God cares for you!

1 Peter 5:7

The disciplines of faith and science are not in disagreement that prayer is a particularly good way to offload stress and reclaim peace. Jesus has said, “Come to me, all you who are struggling hard and carrying heavy loads, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) How does this happen? Visualizing the brain via MRI has made it clear to researchers that, “Praying involves the deeper parts of the brain: the medial prefrontal cortex and the posterior cingulate cortex…These parts of the brain are involved in self-reflection and self-soothing.” (Dr. David Spiegel, Center for Integrative Medicine at Stanford University School of Medicine)

Prayer and meditation can lower our reactivity to traumatic and negative events. They are powerful practices because they focus our thoughts on something outside of ourselves. “During times of stress, our limbic system becomes hyper-activated, which does two things: it thrusts us into survival mode where we freeze, fight, or flee the situation…and it shuts down our executive function, preventing us from thinking clearly. This is why, when we’re stressed out, we can make poor decisions and act in self-destructive ways…When we sit down and engage in prayer or meditation, we are able to shift away from this frightened and stressed survival mode into an intentional state, and ultimately reengage our prefrontal cortex.” (Dr. Paul Hokemeyer, Marriage, Family, and Addictions Therapist)

Whether starting from a faith perspective or a scientific one, we end up at the same conclusion: prayer is helpful in trying times. I encourage us all to release the unwanted, piled high, emotional baggage through prayer so that we can make more drawer space for storing useful gifts like resilience and hope.

Prayerfully,

Pastor Chris

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Happening This Weekend…

Parking Lot Worship

Sunday Mornings, 10:00 a.m.

Celebrating Holy Communion on August 9

Parking Lot Worship Services are recorded and made available for viewing on YouTube.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

This casual online gathering has taken root over the last few months and become a wonderful way to keep connected. Whether you’ve become a “regular” at these gatherings, or you’re thinking about dropping by for the very first time, please take note that the Zoom link has changed and a Password is now required. Please find the new information below. I expect to use the same link each week. (I’ve learned not to make too many promises during the pandemic, though!)

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Moravian Church Without Walls

Moravian Church Without Walls (MCWW) is observing a 2-week summer break.

Companion Planting

Fri, 31 Jul 2020 16:23:00 GMT

On the cusp of August, vegetable gardens are flourishing all over town. Tomatoes plump up and redden, green beans hang heavy, their tendrils curling fancifully. Peppers dangle like ornaments beneath pretty leaves, and zucchini, well, they just go wild. It brings tremendous satisfaction to carry an empty basket to the backyard, load it up with produce of every color, and rinse the haul off in the kitchen sink.

Or so I seem to remember. It’s been quite a few years since I planted an all-out, full-scale, season-spanning array of edibles from spring peas to autumn pumpkins. And while I’m in awe of the miraculous nature of how seeds sprout, grow, and eventually become dinner, I also know that effort coaxes along and sustains such miracles.

Take, for example, “companion planting.” Some plants like to grow with other plants. Some, not so much. Taking the time to understand which properties make which plants tick can lead to an abundantly diverse outcome. For example, tomatoes and basil grow harmoniously side-by-side, as do radishes and spinach, cucumbers and peas, carrots and leeks, broccoli and onions, and beets and garlic. Indigenous Americans have seemingly always known full well the potency of the “Three Sisters” and increased the value of ancient gardens by always planting corn, beans and squash together. Personally, I like to hem in my vegies with a brilliant border of orange nasturtiums and golden marigolds not only because it’s a beautiful addition, but because the flowers stave off the destructive forces of aphids and beetles.

Being attentive to diversity in the garden leads not only to healthier individual plants, but to the collective prosperity of the whole ecosystem.

If human society is an ecosystem, it feels like one that is combatant these days. It’s like what happens when cucumbers are planted close to potatoes—they bring out the worst in each other. Each plant creates pH levels that the other finds inhospitable. They fight each other for what sustains them, and they both end up withering. I don’t know that the cucumber blames the potato, or visa versa, but the result is devastating to both. A society that succumbs to its own Culture Wars will find itself equally devastated, I’m afraid.

The Watchword for the coming week from The Moravian Daily Texts says:

The Lord is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made. Psalm 145:9

This reminds me that it is never God’s doing to pit cucumbers against potatoes. Neither is it God’s doing to pit Democrats against Republicans, or U.S. citizens against citizens of other nations, or light-skinned persons against dark-skinned persons, or anybody against anybody. God is good to ALL. God’s compassion is over ALL. God’s intention is that the whole garden should flourish. Anything short of that is not of God.

To be on God’s side is to be in favor of companion planting—discovering qualities in one another, nurturing those qualities along in positive ways, shooing away what eats at the chance for growth, encouraging effective partnerships, fostering beauty.

The reason I haven’t done a lot of intense gardening in recent years is because it’s easier not to. But, inevitably, I’m disappointed when there’s nothing delicious to harvest. Likewise, it’s easier to skip all the effort it takes to co-create a kinder, more just, more gracious and God-blessed world. It takes not only more effort, but more ingenuity, more creativity. More investment of self.

One summer, when I was a stay-at-home mom, I wanted to cultivate a garden and introduce our pre-schooler, Daniel, to all of its wonders. We had a beautiful back yard with enough space to accommodate a small plot, but it was graced by the shade of large maple trees and only spots of light that moved around the yard as the sun moved across the sky. How could we make this work? We sowed our cucumbers and green peppers in containers that we placed in a Little Tikes wagon. Then, every single day of the entire growing season, we would roll the wagon across the lawn every 2 or 3 hours, chasing down the sunbeams.

Favorite. Garden. Ever.

Cultivating Goodness and Chasing Down the Light of World,

Pastor Chris

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Happening This Weekend…

Parking Lot Worship

Sunday Mornings, 10:00 a.m.

Virtual Activities

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

This casual online gathering has taken root over the last few months and become a wonderful way to keep connected. Whether you’ve become a “regular” at these gatherings, or you’re thinking about dropping by for the very first time, please take note that the Zoom link has changed and a Password is now required. Please find the new information below. I expect to use the same link each week. (I’ve learned not to make too many promises during the pandemic, though!)

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Moravian Church Without Walls

Moravian Church Without Walls (MCWW) is observing a 2-week summer break.

Exact Change

Fri, 24 Jul 2020 15:03:00 GMT

Yesterday, the U.S. Mint made an appeal to the public: If possible, please use exact change when making in-store purchases. For months now, because of the pandemic, people haven’t been sticking to typical shopping patterns. Reduced shopping and online shopping have slowed the usual exchange of currency, and it’s causing trouble. The Mint says there’s plenty of loose change residing in people’s pockets and coin purses and vehicle consoles and under couch cushions. It just needs to start circulating again! So if you’re able, help fulfill your civic duty and work to resolve the problem of retailers’ empty cash drawers by shopping with coins.

This plea reminded me of an encounter I had a few years back. I wrote an essay about it then, and I’ll share it with you below.

Handfuls of Jangly Blessings to You,

Pastor Chris

The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love .
Psalm 145:8

I had an opportunity to be gracious today. The transaction went down in the Soft Drink and Snack Food aisle of the grocery store. As I loaded up the cart with three 12-packs for $9.99, a friendly young woman approached me. “Hey, how’re you doin’?” she asked in a croaky voice.

“I’m doing well, thanks. How are you?” I answered back politely.

“I’m great!” the stranger explained exuberantly. “I just got back from my sister’s house. I was there a whole week.” She stood stalwartly on pudgy legs, and although she efficiently blocked me from making forward progress, she was without malice. She smiled broadly. Happiness registered not only in the curve of her mouth, but in the twinkle of her up-slanted eyes.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” I said. “It’s nice to get away on vacation.”

“Can I have a nickel?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Can I have a nickel?” She lifted up a small package wrapped in white deli paper and pointed to the price sticker. $1.05. “I have a dollar in my pocket. Can I have a nickel?”

Her unashamed persistence melted my heart. I began fishing in my purse for change. While I hunted, she waited, patiently expectant. I located a quarter and handed it over, but she shook her very round head. “No. A nickel.”

I stifled a laugh and searched further. Eventually, I came up with the correct coin. I placed it in her open palm. She curled her stubby fingers—characteristic of Down syndrome—close around it. She thanked me loudly and moved on. As I continued to stock my cart, I heard her making conversation in the next lane over. “I just got back from my sister’s house. I was there a whole week….”

This real time, live action parable provided an episode of delight along with a measure of insight. I found joy in being able to meet the woman’s immediate need (all for the bargain price of 5 cents). In this life, it’s not often that a problem can be solved so simply and perfectly. To be able to respond to a request with kindness and completeness flooded me with the pleasing sensation of goodwill.

Is this the sort of payoff God gets for being gracious with us, I wonder?

And what if, as with the woman who refused the quarter because she was set on getting a nickel, God has even greater blessings in store for us than we are primed to receive? Are we foolish for expecting God to dole out mercy, patience and love in Dixie Cups when, indeed, God is poised to pour from an unrestricted garden hose? Maybe God stifles a laugh (or holds back a tear) when we are stingy about what we are willing to receive.

~Originally published July 6, 2014 online at dailytextsdevotions.blogspot.com.

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Parking Lot Worship Begins on Sunday, July 26

We will be trying a new thing this weekend! Over the radio in your very own vehicle, listen to live worship being broadcast from inside the College Hill sanctuary! If you’d like to participate, please arrive in the parking lot no earlier than 9:30 a.m. for the 10:00 a.m. service. Follow the instructions from your Parking Attendants, and praise God from the safe bubble of your car.

Virtual Activities Continue

Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom – Sundays at 11:30 a.m.

As we re-introduce live worship back into our Sunday schedule, we are moving Virtual Fellowship Time on Zoom to 11:30 a.m. This casual online gathering has taken root over the last few months and become a wonderful way to keep connected. Whether you’ve become a “regular” at these gatherings, or you’re thinking about dropping by for the very first time, please take note that the Zoom link has changed and a Password is now required. Please find the new information below. I expect to use the same link each week. (I’ve learned not to make too many promises during the pandemic, though!)

And if Zoom is new to you and you’d like to be coached on how to get started, please email me at moravianpastorchris@gmail.com or call me at 484-894-9077.

To join by computer, tablet or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/99831347702?pwd=Vk1VWDk0RkdlUXJacWtCRGEvNFpnZz09

Passcode: 789162

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 998 3134 7702

Zoom Prayers–Sundays at 6:30 p.m.

To join by computer, tablet, or smart phone, please go to:

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=S3FYVG1NSFBrb1BoaTl0dnV5ZmNFUT09

Passcode: 073131

To join by phone (no video), dial:

+1 301 715 8592 US (Germantown)

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Moravian Church Without Walls

Moravian Church Without Walls (MCWW) will offer a virtual service open to all at 11:00 am ET on Sunday, July 26. This Sunday, we return live with a service presented by the Board of World Mission, featuring worship from around the globe.

Filters

Sat, 18 Jul 2020 03:12:00 GMT

I was recently reminiscing with our son, Dan, about a summer job from a few years back. When he was in college, he worked at a State Park campground. One of the available, on-site, family-friendly activities in the park is “gem mining.” It was Dan’s daily responsibility to stock a zigzagging series of water troughs with pebbles, stones, rocks, and “gems.” Using rented gold prospecting equipment, kids would dip their screens into the troughs, pull them up, let the water drip out, and look for shiny things left in the pans. Sifted, filtered, treasures. Eureka!

Isn’t that a wonderful task? To seed the imaginations and feed the dreams of everyone who comes expecting an afternoon of winsome adventure? To allow for the silt of the ordinary to escape down the drain while allowing for the captivating to be captured?

As I poured myself a cup of coffee this morning, I noticed that the paper filter had slipped a bit, and some of the grounds had dripped directly into the carafe along with the water. It made for a slightly chewy beverage, and I made a mental note to be more diligent the next time I brewed a pot.

In “gem mining,” you filter out what is valuable and let what is less valuable wash through. In coffee making, you filter out the dregs to let the more valuable liquid wash through. In either case, the filter is important to the outcome. Without a filter, the desirable stuff is lost, the undesirable stuff is retained, and nobody wants that.

These days, we give considerable consideration to filtering out what is most worrisome and dangerous. Masks and face shields and acrylic barriers separate humanity, we hope, from disease. But other concerns vex us as well—especially the societal animosity that seems almost as aerosolized as the virus that plagues us. Some days I wish we could trap all the toxins kicked up by cultural conflicts in an enormous HEPA Cyclonic Vacuum and sweep away all the discord.

Unfortunately, that’s not an available technology, and so we’re going to have to use the filters that are already at our disposal, beginning with discernment. We have a say in sorts of things we expose our minds to—the tone, the quality, the spin, the content. We have a say in what will occupy the very center of our thoughts. When we concentrate and contemplate on God’s agenda, this is where we begin to filter out the sediment and the sludge. Whatever is deceptive, or trivial, or corrupt, or bogus, or tedious, or despicable—this is what runs out the bottom of the sieve and washes clean away. Left behind in the sifter are the valuables: all that is true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, and gracious. (Philippians 4: 8-9) Polish up these gems and hang onto them.

Panning for What Is Wondrous,

Pastor Chris

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Moravian Church Without Walls (MCWW) will offer a virtual service open to all at 11:00 am ET on Sundays. On July 19, we join Rev. John Jackman from Trinity Moravian Church in Winston-Salem, N.C.

The webinar begins at 11:00 a.m.; click this link: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/310492867 to join the service.

Virtual Fellowship will meet via Zoom at 10:15 a.m. Click on https://zoom.us/j/91671628972 to connect.

Zoom Prayers will meet at 6:30 p.m. Click on https://zoom.us/j/91961743369 to join.

Scaffolding

Sat, 11 Jul 2020 18:42:00 GMT

I always thought of scaffolding as merely a temporary system of ladders and platforms that allowed a painter to safely scale the heights like Michelangelo did to make a curated treasure of the Sistine Chapel ceiling, or like the good workers from Stirling Painting and Renovations did in maintaining the windows of our church building last month. But then I came upon a fascinating article that greatly expanded my notion of what other things a scaffold can be good for, like serving as a framework on which healing can happen.

As I understand it, biomedical engineers have developed a technique for 3-D printing structures which may be placed between the splintered ends of badly broken bones. The scaffold, made of a biodegradable polymer known as PLLA, gives new bone growth a lattice to cling to while it repairs itself. But in addition to providing stability, the PLLA scaffold is able to conduct a mild electrical current that stimulates and speeds up bone growth. And eventually, once the bone has knit itself back together, the scaffold dissolves and dissipates. Very cool.

I’ve also learned that scaffolding is a key component in coral reef restoration projects. As climate change has contributed to the collapse of oceanic coral ecosystems around the globe, saving those delicate reefs has become a specialty for marine biologists. They have learned how to carefully coax and cultivate coral to grow on metal scaffolds they sink and anchor to the sandy bottom of Caribbean shallows. And like with human bone growth, coral growth can also be stimulated and sped up with the application of mild electrical charges. Intriguing.

To see the definitive evidence of a fractured femur, there will have to be an x-ray. To see the evidence of a depleted atoll, there will have to be a scuba diver shooting footage with an underwater camera. But to see evidence that there is brokenness all around us, the naked eye will do just fine these days. But what else do we see? Do we see the dismantling of a framework that doesn’t serve all people justly? Do we see the need for healing? For a better framework? For a scaffold that can be infused with some kind of power to generate revved up mending? An accelerated cure?

Thinking about this, a Bible story has drifted into my mind. Do you remember the one about when Jesus went out among an enormous crowd? He was phenomenally busy that day, according to Luke’s recounting in Chapter 8 of his Gospel. In a sliver of a break between resolving the many issues of a possessed man and restoring a little girl who everyone believed to be dead, Jesus squeezed in another event, and not even on purpose. Approached by a woman exhausted and desperate after more than a decade dealing with non-stop bleeding, she got close enough to Jesus to touch his clothing. She didn’t even try to speak with him, perhaps not even wanting to bother him. But when she brushed up against him, the story goes, he sensed it. He whirled around, saying he knew that power had gone out of him. It seems to have been almost automatic, the way Jesus changed her life, the way he healed her with a bit of a zap and gave her a whole new scaffold upon which to build a repaired life.

It strikes me that in order to repair the wounds in our world, we are in need of a scaffold. We are in need of Jesus. But the scaffold cannot be manipulated to suggest that Jesus cares for some people more than others. Some people might be in need of more compassion from him at one time or another. In such need, someone might be bold enough to trust in his goodness and sneak a pinch of his power. Like in the story, if Jesus were smack dab in the middle of a demonstrative crowd this very day, he might wheel around and ask, “Who touched me?” But it wouldn’t because he felt the action was invasive or that the person was thieving and trying to get away with something. No. Jesus would want to know who needed him so seriously in order that he may fully encounter the one in deepest pain.

Like the biomedical engineers on the side of patients, like the marine biologists on the side of the environment, Jesus is on the side of all who need him to be. As we look around and make ourselves aware of how we can be on Jesus’ side, let us be purposeful about how that new scaffolding gets built, how the lattice gets covered over, and what beauty will result when all is healed and flourishing.

Pastor Chris

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Moravian Church Without Walls (MCWW) will offer a virtual service open to all at 11:00 am ET on Sundays. On July 12, we join Waconia Moravian Church in Waconia, Minn.

The webinar begins at 11:00 a.m.; click this link: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/310492867 to join the service.

Virtual Fellowship will meet via Zoom at 10:15 a.m. Click on https://zoom.us/j/91671628972 to connect.

Zoom Prayers will meet at 6:30 p.m. Click on https://zoom.us/j/91961743369 to join.

Hydration

Sat, 27 Jun 2020 14:48:00 GMT

Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won’t lose out on a thing. (Matthew 10: 42, The Message)

I have a beautiful New Guinea Impatiens plant on my front porch that blooms and blooms, cheerfully and gloriously, with bright pink flowers. That is, unless I forget to water her. Just once. When that happens, the very next day when I step out onto the porch, I see her drooped into a sad heap, stems sagging, blossoms fading. She looks lifeless. Hopeless. I think, “There’s no chance for survival. I have done it. I have killed her.” But just on the off chance…I pour from the slender tip of the watering can and cross my fingers. I go inside the house to give my attention elsewhere, and when I step back onto the porch in an hour or two, resurrection has occurred! The stems are plump now, and they have righted themselves. I pluck off the formerly pink flowers that have withered to sad bits of brown tissue paper, and to my delight, new buds are already swelling into replacement blossoms. To see the plant spring back to life in such a dramatic way reminds me that plain old H ₂ O is the stuff of miracles.

Then I remember to sip from my own water bottle. The dull headache I didn’t even realize I had dissipates. A wiltedness I hadn’t even recognized is replaced by a sense of well-being I didn’t even know had been missing. Hydration.

It’s a basic kindness to offer someone a drink of water—an act of hospitality that is not at all elaborate, and yet, so rejuvenating. Jesus sometimes speaks about doing so as a simple act in support of God’s realm. As usual, Jesus’ message works on more than one level. The physical endeavor of handing a thirsty person a beverage IS a beautiful deed in itself. At the same time, such welcomed refreshment wets not only the whistle. A cup of cool water offered in Jesus’ name hydrates body, mind, and spirit.

I’ve been touched to read about the work of the organization Humane Borders, founded in 2000 by the Rev. Dr. Robin Hoover. “Motivated by faith and the universal need for kindness,” Humane Borders maintains a system of water stations in Arizona’s Sonoran Desert on routes used by migrants journeying to the U.S. The focus of Humane Borders is strictly humanitarian assistance. Humane Borders does not engage in the immigration debate, per se. The organization’s primary mission “is to save desperate people from a horrible death by dehydration and exposure and to create a just and humane environment in the borderlands” ( https://humaneborders.org/ ) where, on average, 150 people perish annually. Volunteers here literally give a cup of water to human beings dying of dehydration. No more. No less.

To give a cool cup of water to someone, or even to receive one graciously—these are actions that make us accomplices of Jesus! These are actions of mercy and compassion, tenderness and justice. These are actions that bring lush hydration to a parched people.

In the name of Jesus, who soaks us and seeps into our hearts so that we might perk up, green up, and flourish, who will you, in turn, water today?

Thirstily,

Pastor Chris

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Sunday Opportunities

Here’s how to find our online events for Sunday, June 21.

1 0:15 a.m. Virtual Fellowship Time

If you’ll be joining via computer, tablet, or smart phone, please use the link:
https://zoom.us/j/91671628972

To join by phone only, please dial +1 646 558 8656 US (New York) and use the meeting ID: 916 7162 8972

11:00 a.m. Moravian Church Without Walls Worship

Zoom Link: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/310492867

Tip 1: If you are a Facebook user, many of your friends are likely to be hosting “Watch Parties.” (Pastor Chris tries to do this when she can from her page: Christine Sobania Johnson.) This is an alternative way to wander into the same MCWW worship service and does not require the Zoom link.

Tip 2: To discover even further Moravian worship opportunities, please consult the updated list at https://www.moravian.org/2020/04/online-worship-opportunities/ .

6:30 p.m. Zoom Prayers — Praying together for one another, our community, our nation, and our world.

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone only, dial +1 646 558 8656 US (New York) and use Meeting ID 919 6174 3369

15 Hours, 4 Minutes, 54 Seconds

Sat, 20 Jun 2020 02:54:00 GMT

What will you do with all the luxurious amounts of daylight afforded by these, the longest days of the new season? Will you go, go, go from the rising of the sun until the setting of the same? Will you take advantage of the light and heat to accomplish a task? Will you put a fresh coat of paint on the shutters, or install pavers to make a walkway near your rose bushes, or clean out and hose down the garage? Will you make the most of those 15 hours, 4 minutes, and 54 seconds? Will you make the most of the solstice?

Astronomically speaking, solstice means that the sun has reached the northernmost point on our celestial sphere. Astronomically speaking, solstice ushers in summer, bringing with it sultry temperatures and increased cravings for iced tea and Popsicles.

Lexically, though, solstice has another interesting meaning altogether: turning point .

Since the end of May and continuing through June, with all of the tumultuous events touched off by the death of George Floyd, we can hardly have helped but to have grown in awareness of inequities and injustices practically hardwired into the culture. We can hardly have helped but to have noticed the calls to disassemble what is broken and to rebuild with intentionality a society that better meets the needs of all its citizens. It seems to me that we are at a turning point. We are at a solstice. It is time.

There’s an opportune time to do things, a right time for everything on the earth:

A right time for birth and another for death,
A right time to plant and another to reap,
A right time to kill and another to heal,
A right time to destroy and another to construct,
A right time to cry and another to laugh,
A right time to lament and another to cheer,
A right time to make love and another to abstain,
A right time to embrace and another to part,
A right time to search and another to count your losses,
A right time to hold on and another to let go,
A right time to rip out and another to mend,
A right time to shut up and another to speak up,
A right time to love and another to hate,
A right time to wage war and another to make peace.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8 ( The Message Bible)

If it is true that we are on the cusp of something extraordinary, we may want to ask ourselves how we might make the most of this particular solstice. If we had a full, sun-shiny day to concentrate on listening or learning or growing or serving or doing some beautiful thing for God in the scheme of dismantling racism, how could we make the most of that time? If we had 15 hours, 4 minutes, and 54 seconds in which to focus attention on a new vision for an improved existence, who would delve in wholeheartedly?

We could read a book like Waking Up White by Debby Irving, or listen to a podcast from the list at https://bellocollective.com/16-podcasts-that-confront-racism-in-america-f8f69baf529d . We could watch Just Mercy , or Selma , or 12 Years a Slave , or any other title that increases understanding of the backstory and cultivates empathy for anyone ever diminished by it. With interest and respect, we could search out conversations with people whose skin tones are different from our own. We could truly try to see the world through the eyes of someone whose situation is very different from our own. We could remind ourselves with every fiber of our being that every human being is beloved by God.

And for a surprisingly good collection of information on the associated issues, we could visit (of all places!) the Ben & Jerry’s website, www.benjerry.com . Since it is the summer solstice, after all, we might all have an ice cream cone now that we’re thinking about it.

Purposefully,

Pastor Chris

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Sunday Opportunities

Here’s how to find our online events for Sunday, June 21.

1 0:15 a.m. Virtual Fellowship Time

If you’ll be joining via computer, tablet, or smart phone, please use the link:
https://zoom.us/j/91671628972

To join by phone only, please dial +1 646 558 8656 US (New York) and use the meeting ID: 916 7162 8972

11:00 a.m. Moravian Church Without Walls Worship

Zoom Link: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/310492867

Tip 2: To discover even further Moravian worship opportunities, please consult the updated list at https://www.moravian.org/2020/04/online-worship-opportunities/ .

6:30 p.m. Zoom Prayers — Praying together for one another, our community, our nation, and our world.

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone only, dial +1 646 558 8656 US (New York) and use Meeting ID 919 6174 3369

A New Old Quote for the Season

Sat, 13 Jun 2020 20:17:00 GMT

The dude in the picture is one of my nearby neighbors. I’m quite proud of him and the message he’s currently conveying to all passersby on the Moravian College section of Main Street, Bethlehem: “We are all citizens of one world, indeed…we are all equally human.” Amen to that!

The statement seems as current as a freshly scrawled protest sign—Sharpie on cardboard. But this can’t be the case since the person attached to the quote has not been alive since 1670! Who said it? Who could have been so far ahead of his time? J. A. C.

Looking a little bit like Darth Vader in this photo, but only because he is wearing an enormous mask and practicing social distancing, John Amos Comenius spoke these timeless words into a different existence, a different set of oppressions. An influential figure in the fabric of Moravian history, Comenius’ legacy of egalitarianism is woven into our church’s worldview. He did not address American racial injustice because the injustice he spoke out against festered in 17 ^th century Europe. But after knowing poverty, surviving war, undergoing exile, and experiencing persecution, Comenius’ resistance work in response to world ugliness was to lay the foundation for a better society.

He worked with renown in the field of education, and he worked with devotion as a Bishop in the Moravian Church, and along the way he sought to ensure that marginalized people—and especially women and girls—had access to opportunity. To learning. To growing and stretching and becoming. Comenius innovated tirelessly to create systems of learning that would allow all people to find fulfillment using their God given minds and all their senses. He removed inequality by removing barriers.

As I mentioned, the times were different. The context was different. But the motivation might have been similar. I wonder if J.A.C. might have been inspired by the very concept that has been replaying in my mind over these past few weeks:

God created humanity in God’s own image,
in the divine image God created them,
male and female God created them.

Genesis 1:27 (CEB)

It is not that some lives matter more or less to God. God’s fingerprints are all over all of us. As we are all inextricably linked to God the Creator, we are inextricably linked one to another. And so, when we become aware that the roots of racism in our country sink down to the bedrock; and when we become aware that the framework of our society is inherently unjust to People of Color; and when we become aware that those of us who are White are needed to reset the system, this is when we step up, like J.A.C., to shake out the inequality and work creatively toward something better.

Tomorrow, so I have heard, The Rev. Mark Breland will preach the message “My Life Matters: One Black Man’s Perspective.” Mark is on the pastoral staff of Lititz Moravian Church, and the worship service from Lititz will be broadcast via Moravian Church without Walls. The link is provided in the information section below.

Working for Justice that All May Live in Peace,

Pastor Chris

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Sunday Opportunities

Here’s how to find our online events for Sunday, June 14.

1 0:15 a.m. Virtual Fellowship Time

If you’ll be joining via computer, tablet, or smart phone, please use the link:
https://zoom.us/j/91671628972

To join by phone only, please dial +1 646 558 8656 US (New York) and use the meeting ID: 916 7162 8972

11:00 a.m. Moravian Church Without Walls Worship

Zoom Link: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/310492867

Tip 2: To discover even further Moravian worship opportunities, please consult the updated list at https://www.moravian.org/2020/04/online-worship-opportunities/ .

6:30 p.m. Zoom Prayers — Praying together for one another, our community, our nation, and our world.

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone only, dial +1 646 558 8656 US (New York) and use Meeting ID 919 6174 3369

New This Week!

The Creative Worship Team from our own congregation is preparing to debut an online Summer Worship Series this coming Wednesday, June 17! Stay tuned for a midweek email to discover how you can connect with this exciting new venture!

A Season of Yellow

Sat, 06 Jun 2020 18:34:00 GMT

“I really just want to be warm yellow light that pours over everyone I love.” ~Conor Oberst

We are in the season of yellow. That is, after almost 12 weeks of adhering closely to shelter-at-home rules in order to contain The Virus, our region has been allowed to loosen restrictions. In the terminology of the Pennsylvania Governor’s office, we have moved out of the red phase and are heading toward the green phase. But right now, we are paused in the yellow phase. It is the shade of caution, like the middle light on a traffic signal that reminds us to keep alert when we venture into the intersection. It is the hue of prudence, like the background of a highway sign posted to remind us that if we take the bend too quickly, surely the vehicle will tip over. It’s that kind of yellow.

And yet, yellow is also the color associated with optimism and energy. It is the color of splendid sunshine. It is the most visible color in the spectrum, and the color we can most easily perceive with our peripheral vision. It is so reflective that it creates its own secondary light source. It brings illumination.

Yellow is the color of 25’ tall letters recently painted on a famous Washington, D.C. street. Perhaps that makes it the color of long-overdue change.

If I were a painter, I might load my palette up with canary and lemon and school bus and mustard and honey and butter, and I might mix all of the pigments together into a shade combining elements of hope and exuberance with respect and goodwill, and I would name it the Color of Care-Fulness. My new shade of yellow would call us all to the task of being full of care .

The call to be care-full is clear and powerful in these words from Philippians 2. As you read them over, let me invite you to insert your own name and hear them as if the writer, Paul, were talking directly to you…

If you, (insert name here), have gotten anything at all out of following Christ, if his love has made any difference in your life, if being in a community of the Spirit means anything to you, if you have a heart, if you care— then do me a favor: Agree with each other, love each other, be deep-spirited friends. Don’t push your way to the front; don’t sweet-talk your way to the top. Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead. Don’t be obsessed with getting your own advantage. Forget yourselves long enough to lend a helping hand.

^5-8 Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death—and the worst kind of death at that—a crucifixion. (Philippians 2: 1-8, The Message)

The Philippians passage is peppered with phrases that pop in the ears of anyone who is paying attention to current events and circumstances: privilege, equal status, advantage …but also, put yourself aside, forget yourself, help others.

To grasp the truth of Jesus’ life and teachings means to not only hold them awkwardly in hand, but to hold them genuinely in heart. Anyone who opens the Bible’s pages is met with a call to humility and selflessness. Anyone who is attentive to Jesus values empathy and cultivates concern for justice.

We are in the season of yellow, and it is imperative that we all be care-full, not only in matters related to the infectious disease, but also in matters related to the infectious despair that has been uncovered and noticed in our society: the embedded calamity of systemic racism. To be care-full is to listen and learn, always trying to understand. To be care-full is to put aside defensiveness and be willing to recognize brokenness when it is right before our eyes. To be care-full is to hold onto a piece of that brokenness and absorb some of its sorrow. To be care-full is to give up me-first thinking. To be care-full is to be willing to change.

One day we will move to another phase—forward or backward. In all matters, it would be favorable to progress rather than regress. It will take all the yellow paint our imaginations can conjure to get us there together. Let’s go.

Care-Fully,

Pastor Chris

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Food Pantry Curbside Drop-Off

Help restock the Food Pantry shelves at Central Moravian Church with much needed items for our next food distribution. Please be aware that a peaceful protest is being planned for 3 p.m. on Sunday at Payrow Plaza. If traffice is blocked on Center Street, please go to Market Street, turn south on Heckwelder Place and then turn right onto Church Street. You will be right in front of the church office building. Whether you drive down Church Street or arrive by way of Heckewelder, pull in front of the church office building at 73 W. Church Street between 1 – 3 p.m. on Sunday, June 7 (Rain date June 10) . Drop your grocery bags off in the wagons by the curb, give us a wave, and be on your way.

We especially need the following items: coffee, tea, family sized evaporated, powdered or boxed milk that does not need refrigeration, jelly and jam, peanut butter, tuna and canned chicken and 1-2 lb bags of rice.
We thank everyone for the tremendous support in May. Together, Lehigh Valley Moravians and friends donated 2,219 pounds of non-perishable food items! We might not be in the same room together, but we can still serve others together!

Sunday Opportunities

Here’s how to find our online events for Sunday, June 7.

1 0:15 a.m. Virtual Fellowship Time

If you’ll be joining via computer, tablet, or smart phone, please use the link:
https://zoom.us/j/91671628972

To join by phone only, please dial +1 646 558 8656 US (New York) and use the meeting ID: 916 7162 8972

11:00 a.m. Moravian Church Without Walls Worship

Moravian Music Sunday (featuring our own dear church musician, Gwyn Michel) will be celebrated. (You might recall there was a worldwide technical glitch back in May. This is the re-scheduled service.)Through a joint effort of the Moravian Church in both the Northern and Southern Provinces, virtual worship has been offered weekly throughout the pandemic.

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link:

https://zoom.us/j/310492867

Tip 2: To discover even further Moravian worship opportunities, please consult the updated list at https://www.moravian.org/2020/04/online-worship-opportunities/ . Quite a few Moravian congregations offer livestreamed or pre-recorded worship opportunities.

6:30 p.m. Zoom Prayers — Praying together for one another, our community, our nation, and our world.

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link: https://zoom.us/j/91961743369

To join by phone only, dial +1 646 558 8656 US (New York) and use Meeting ID 919 6174 3369

Breathe

Sat, 30 May 2020 21:05:00 GMT

Before you read any further, please try something:

Breathe deeply.

Inhale…two…three…four…

Exhale…two…three…four…

And hold.

Hold until you can hold no longer…

Hold until you are uncomfortable…until you are worried…until you are desperate.

Then gasp.

Allow air to rush in,

revive,

resuscitate,

restore,

replenish,

renew.

Breath. It’s all the rage these days.

It’s all the rage when it is stolen away from a human being. Before our eyes. On camera.

It’s all the rage when it is in short supply and being delivered via ventilator to a Covid-19 patient in the ICU.

Breath—at the crux of twin crises.

Breath—difficult to regulate while distraught.

Breath—critical.

Breath—sacred.

In the cycle of the church year, Pentecost is what we are observing this very weekend. A dramatic version of the story is told in Acts 2. The author, Luke, tries to capture the precise moment when there is a change in the wind, a shift in the collective understanding about how God is present in the world. There is a new and sudden recognition that God will not be contained in a building (the Temple), nor will God be contained in a body—not even the person of Jesus. God’s Spirit blows in like a gale, dances around like a flame, and unites everyone in a remarkable moment of clarity.

A different version of the story appears in John’s Gospel: The resurrected Jesus takes a deep breath and breathes into his disciples. “Receive the Holy Spirit,” he says. (John 20:22)

Breath is integral to faith life as much as it is integral to life life! God’s Spirit is in us just as breath is in us. This, friends, is the literal meaning of “inspiration.”

God’s Spirit activates…

Motivates…

Instigates… for good.

As is especially noticeable these days, breath is inestimable. How do we breathe a thing so valuable back into the broken world? Do we expend precious breath singing songs of sorrow as we pass by threshold numbers—like 100,000? Do we expel priceless breath to pray for justice and work for peace? Do we release treasured breath to speak out when another can’t breathe ?

Breath. It’s nothing new. It has always and forever been a requirement of life. Our acute, shared awareness of it is what’s new. That seems to have been true on the Day of Pentecost as well. God’s Spirit—the Holy Spirit—had always and forever been present. But society seemed to have noticed her that day, and everything changed. Her wildness gave rise to the Church! As we grow in mutual awareness of breath, are we being transformed? Will we breathe together, all makes and models of humanity? All skin tones and origins, ages and accents, abilities and opportunities?

Breathe on us, Breath of God.

Oxygenated,

Pastor Chris

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Sunday Opportunities

Here’s how to find our online events for Sunday, May 31.

1 0:15 a.m. Virtual Fellowship Time

Bring your own coffee, juice, and doughnuts to the screen with you and join in catching up casually with your church family! To get the chatter started, we’ll have a lighthearted mixer or question. Children are welcomed to pop in with a giggle and pop backout again, just as they might if we were physically together in Fellowship Hall. We’ll take about a half hour for all of this, allowing anyone who would like to transition to worship to do so.

If you’ll be joining via computer, tablet, or smart phone, please use the link: https://zoom.us/j/91671628972?pwd=bFcwRXJqQUhVRmJpZXJGNGdUUVpSdz09

11:00 a.m. Moravian Church Without Walls Worship

Through a joint effort of the Moravian Church in both the Northern and Southern Provinces, virtual worship has been offered weekly throughout the pandemic. Lots of College Hill folks have joined in already, but there’s always room for more! (Well, unless there’s a technical glitch. But USUALLY there’s room for more.)

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link:

https://zoom.us/j/310492867 (no password required).

6:30 p.m. Holy Communion in Recognition of Pentecost / Zoom Prayers

In a simple service, we’ll celebrate Holy Communion together. Please gather your own elements–bread and drink–and bring them with you to the Zoom meeting. (Note: This is the same link we use for our usual Sunday evening Zoom Prayers.)

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link:

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=ZzVuWTdlMGszZTBYVm04Y282M3h4Zz09

Open Hearts, Closed Building

Sat, 23 May 2020 20:39:00 GMT

Please do not come to our church building to worship this weekend. In spite of what you might have heard about houses of worship having permission to throw open the doors, out of deep care for one another, we prefer to throw open our hearts and keep the doors closed for now.

You’ll be hearing more about this in the days to come, but I want you to be aware that College Hill Moravian Church leaders have been thoughtfully deliberating how to respond to all things Covid-19. We have named an advisory team to sift through information and think through all eventualities in order to provide a framework for solid, safe decision-making. We are developing new opportunities to meet the congregation’s need and desire to worship God. We use the postal mail, the telephone, the church website, and email to stay in touch with one another as we always have, and we continue to offer programs and meetings over Zoom as we have recently learned.

To quote my respected colleague and College Hill’s former student pastor, the Rev. James Heroux, “We never closed. We adapted. So instead of ‘reopening,’ we’ll decide to meet in person when it’s safe to do so.”

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Everything is permitted, but everything isn’t beneficial. Everything is permitted, but everything doesn’t build others up.

1 Corinthians 10: 23 (CEB)

Just because something is allowable doesn’t necessarily make it a good idea. I mean, just because there’s a slight outcrop jutting from a sheer rockface 80 feet above a bay in Acupulco doesn’t mean that cliff diving is for everyone. Just because a clever person can rationalize eating banana splits and chocolate eclairs for lunch doesn’t mean the nutritional plan is a sound choice. Just because there’s no speed limit on the Autobahn doesn’t mean a person should fill the tank with rocket fuel.

For my own sake, just because I can doesn’t always mean I should . For Christ-followers, this is doubly so when an action might put someone in our company at risk. It is our calling, remember, to love our neighbors at least as much as we love ourselves. And so we adjust our choices based not only what seems good for ourselves, but what is also constructive for the community.

In the 1 ^st century, when Paul, the founding pastor of a church in Corinth, wrote instructive letters to his parishioners, navigating his people safely through the unknown scourge of a global pandemic was not the thing that kept him awake at night. But this doesn’t mean there was a shortage of other hot button topics to occupy his mind. It’s difficult for us to grasp the intensity of the particular concern Paul addresses in the verse above, but it was the cultural flash point of the day: whether or not it was spiritually okay to eat meat that had been used in a religious sacrifice to an idol, and then, sort of, repackaged and sold to consumers for dinner.

This was a big deal. Observing dietary restrictions would have been a significant method people used to honor God before Jesus offered a different way—a way of Love over Law. Helping people to get over the old prohibitions was how Paul sought to teach people about the new Way. Paul himself seems to have no longer been bothered by rules that forbade him to eat this type of meat that had been used as an offering to someone else’s gods. The act had no power over him, and it seems as though he would have been perfectly content to grill up some juicy chops for himself.

However, he recognized that this was confusing, perhaps even upsetting, to new followers of Jesus. If the action was off-putting to those who were fragile in faith, then that was a strong reason to not do it. Paul may have considered chowing down on burgers to be allowable , but if it got in the way of anyone experiencing a relationship with Christ, then it was not beneficial . If it did not build up people, then it wasn’t worth pursuing, even if it was legal.

The details have changed over time, but the core of the matter remains the same: as people of faith, we look beyond self-interest to the best interest of others, most especially the fragile. And we are all fragile.

With Care,

Pastor Chris

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Here’s how to find our online events for Sunday, May 23.

1 0:15 a.m. Virtual Fellowship Time

If you’ll be joining via computer, tablet, or smart phone, please use the link: https://zoom.us/j/91671628972?pwd=bFcwRXJqQUhVRmJpZXJGNGdUUVpSdz09

11:00 a.m. Moravian Church Without Walls Worship

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link:

https://zoom.us/j/310492867 (no password required).

6:30 p.m. Zoom Prayers

If you’re looking to quiet your spirit with a devotional and prayer focus to round out your Sabbath Day, stop by this session. Bring the concerns and the joys that are on your heart so we might pray for one another, for our congregation, and for our world.

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link:

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=ZzVuWTdlMGszZTBYVm04Y282M3h4Zz09

Join us for 1, 2, or all 3 gatherings on any or all Sundays. As with all things during the pandemic, things are subject to change. Keep an eye on emails or collegehillmoravian.org for updates.

Too Many Eggs for One Basket

Sat, 16 May 2020 18:28:00 GMT

I was surprised by a question posed to me by the highest ranking ecclesiastical leader in my corner of the Moravian Church world. The Rev. Dr. Elizabeth D. Miller, President of the Provincial Elders Conference of the Moravian Church, Northern Province called my cell phone one recent day to ask, of all things, “Do you have any egg cartons?”

Egg cartons? Wait. What?

Betsy went on to explain the conundrum. As she was volunteering with the food pantry of Central Moravian Church, she learned of a donation that would be arriving the next day: 70 dozen fresh eggs! It would be a windfall for the pantry and its customers! The donation would be coming from a commercial egg farmer whose 1,700 laying hens continued to do their jobs in spite of the pandemic, but whose buyers had dried up when so many restaurant kitchens shut down. The only trouble, from the pantry’s perspective, was that the eggs would be arriving on palleted trays. How could they be distributed? There’s no way to simply toss them, unprotected, into grocery bags.

Here is where College Hill Moravian Church enters the scene. Our beloved friend-member Gloria Reisinger is the administrative guru to the PEC President. She told Betsy that our congregation often collects egg cartons for our other beloved friend-member * Bill Boehm, who then passes them on for re-use to a different farmer. But that farmer had gotten rid of his chickens and was not currently in need of the cartons that were stacked up and stored on the corner of the stage in Fellowship Hall.

And so it came to pass that, after a few other phone calls and a little more arranging, the egg cartons made it to the food pantry and the eggs made it to the homes of hungering neighbors. Networking can be a beautiful thing.

All of this talk of eggs and cartons has gotten me thinking—thinking about fragility. Throughout 9 weeks (thus far) of a global pandemic, we have been reminded daily, if not hourly, of the fragile nature of life . From the first terrifying days when we learned of an invisible killer called coronavirus that could sneak in, latch on, and infect not just a person but a population, to our current scenario in which the economy teeters insecurely, it is clear that we are breakable. Our bodies. Our livelihoods. Our social order. This recognition could be the motivating factor that leads us all to treat one another tenderly. We are all like eggs in need of a carton when the world is providing such a bumpy ride!

In a letter he wrote to one of his churches, Paul noted that people are a lot like clay containers—brittle and susceptible to shattering. But inside of this terra cotta shell, there’s something of tremendous value. Paul talks about it as being the light that shines out of darkness, or the knowledge we carry with us of who Jesus is. I’m putting words in Paul’s mouth now, but it seems to me he’s describing the spark of God. God’s Spirit. This is what powers us on towards resilience in spite of our fragility.

Resilience is the quality that allows us to get back to living after experiencing brokenness. It comes from having hope. At a time when so many are challenged on so many fronts, though, I urge us all to be egg cartons for one another! I urge us to be humbly protective however we can, exhibiting concern for one another’s health and well-being. Be gentle with one another, and generous, too. Cushion the shock. Lower the impact. Reduce the wallop. Cradle the fractured world.

With Care,

Pastor Chris

* I spoke with Bill yesterday, and he tells me that his farming buddy is back in the chicken business. Feel free to start saving those egg cartons again.

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Here’s how to find our online events for Sunday, May 17. You’ll want to know that the worship service from Moravian Church Without Walls will celebrate Moravian Music Sunday and will feature leadership from The Moravian Music Foundation. Our own church musician, Gwyn Michel, will be “instrumental” in the service.

1 0:15 a.m. Virtual Fellowship Time

If you’ll be joining via computer, tablet, or smart phone, please use the link: https://zoom.us/j/91671628972?pwd=bFcwRXJqQUhVRmJpZXJGNGdUUVpSdz09

Meeting ID: 916 7162 8972

Password: 176048

11:00 a.m. Moravian Church Without Walls Worship

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link:

https://zoom.us/j/310492867 (no password required).

6:30 p.m. Zoom Prayers

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link:

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=ZzVuWTdlMGszZTBYVm04Y282M3h4Zz09

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Password: 216385

Join us for 1, 2, or all 3 gatherings on any or all Sundays. As with all things during the pandemic, things are subject to change. Keep an eye on emails or collegehillmoravian.org for updates.

Mulch on the Way

Fri, 08 May 2020 19:54:00 GMT

In spite of the polar vortex that will be sweeping across the Northeast this May weekend, the weather earlier in the week was perfect for yard work. As Darrell and I stood on the parsonage deck and wondered how to go about obtaining enough woodchips to spread on the flower beds, low and behold, Larry McNamee arrived in his loaded pickup truck, and Ron Penrose joined him with a wheelbarrow and shovel. Before I could even say, “thanks for the free mulch delivery,” the fellows had let down the tailgate and emptied out the vehicle. Amazing!

Because I’m spoiled, the guys did the heavy lifting, but I joined in with a rake and pushed some of the mulch around, evening it out to a three-inch depth. As I did so, up from my memory popped the recollection of a day spent at Mt. Morris, the Moravian Camp and Conference Center located in central Wisconsin. Darrell and I were on the premises along with a dozen or so young teens—students in the confirmation class we were leading that year. We were practicing discipleship through service, and the task at hand required chipping and shredding vast amounts of pine branches and using the mulch to line the camp’s footpaths. The camp had only recently added a new cluster of cabins, and the trampled ground between buildings had become a bit treacherous.

Working together on the project turned out to be a great bonding experience, and the visible progress we were able to make left us feeling satisfied. At some point—after all, this was a confirmation class—we used the experience to discuss what Jesus might have meant when he talked about being the way, the road, the path to that comfortable place where God welcomes us eternally. “ How is Jesus like a pathway,” I asked them.

Out there in the deep pine forest, the kids had plenty of answers. One offered, “The ground here is really puddly when it rains. The mulch on the trail keeps us above the mess. Maybe Jesus is like that—keeping us above the mess.” Another said, “Last summer when I was here for church camp, it was hard to tell the deer trails from the people trails and I got confused coming back from the lodge one night. I feel like when there’s a clearer trail, it’s not so easy to get lost. So, I guess that means Jesus, like, helps us to not get lost when things are confusing.” Such wisdom!

Back to the present, this pandemic period we’re living in is both puddly and confusing! If only there were a clearly marked, freshly mulched trail we could follow that would lead us out of the woods.

Maybe there is.

Christ Jesus has known the experience of dark days and confounding times. Overpowering that, though, Christ Jesus has known how to rise above it. He doesn’t keep the solution a secret. He shares it freely. The key is to step closely in his footsteps for his footsteps ARE the path that whisks us not only from the camp lodge to the camp cabin, but from ultimate fear to ultimate hope. From certain death to certain resurrection. From being shut out of life to being welcomed into eternity. To step in his footsteps is to have confidence.

When this is our starting point, this knowledge that we are eternally connected to God no matter the parameters of this earth-bound life, then we can be bold enough to step where Jesus shows us to step, be as Jesus shows us to be. Crisis or not, we know where to put our feet.

Besides the Masked Mulchers, some other College Hill folks followed in Christ Jesus’ footsteps this week and carried out other volunteer ministries as well. (I just don’t have any photos to post!) In small teams, gloved and masked and distanced and all that, some took the path to William Penn Elementary School to drop off packed bags of food to be distributed to the K-5 kids who struggle with food insecurity, perhaps even more so now that the school building is closed. Some took the path to East Hills to cook for the Freezer Ministry of the Bethlehem Area Moravians—food that will also be distributed to hungry people across our community. Though adjustments have been made to how we carry out the work, the path really hasn’t changed much. It’s just been re-mulched!

People of God—stay on the path. No matter how puddly or confusing, we know how to navigate.

Step by step,

Pastor Chris

The Golden Mask Rule

Sun, 03 May 2020 20:44:00 GMT

When all is said and done, the mask will go down in history as the Official Accessory of The Pandemic. I don’t mean just the protective gear vital to heroic healthcare workers—the crucial PPE that has been too often hard to come by. I’m talking about the cloth face masks the rest of us are encouraged or required to wear when we step foot out of our homes and into the virus-laced world. I’m talking about the coverings that have been stitched together by kind-hearted couturiers on Singer and Bernina machines positioned on a million dining room tables. I’m talking about the fabric buffers made from scratch even through the trials of an elastic shortage. These are our armor.

As the need for such armor grows, it doesn’t surprise me at all that artists and entrepreneurs alike are being inspired to new heights. My sister mentioned to me yesterday that she had purchased some masks through Etsy, the premiere website for unique, handcrafted items. Curious, I visited the site to see for myself what was being offered. When I typed in “face masks,” I was met with 402,384 results! I found masks to match every sports franchise known to humankind; masks embroidered with cat faces; masks that come with matching hair bows; masks made from camo; masks cut from printed cloth patterned with unicorns and flamingos and polka dots and paisley.

And for special occasions, I came across 952 results when I searched for “face masks blingy.” That’s a lot of sequins.

Some of those blingy masks are gold, and that got me thinking about a little thing known as The Golden Rule. I have heard it said that every branch of religion and, really, every culture, subscribes to a version of The Golden Rule. It is, at least in theory, a globally held value. For Christ-followers, we like to quote from Jesus’ words found in Matthew 7:12. You might have memorized the verse: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Treat others as you want to be treated. Right? Looking at The Message version of the Bible…

Every day, the Secretary of Health for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania gives a Covid-19 press briefing. She always concludes with a list of best practices for keeping safe—words she has offered so many times now that I can recite them myself, almost liturgically. One phrase Dr. Levine echoes daily has come to sound almost sacred to my ears. It resonates like a slice of scripture: My mask protects you and your mask protects me. I have come to call it The Golden Mask Rule of The Pandemic. It matches in tone the message I hear from Jesus. The one that calls us to have at least the same amount of compassion for our neighbor as we do for ourselves. And, more than incidentally, we might remember that this is exactly how we express love for God, too.

I have been disturbed by images of maskless protestors assembling in various public places. They gather to assert that their states should repeal societal safety measures and “open” to unfettered commerce and recreation. Some would say that hastily assembled coronavirus policies have been oppressive to individual’s rights in favor of societal protections. While I empathize with the desire to “get back to normal,” and while I appreciate a good demonstration for a laudable cause, I have found the protestors’ methods and message to be at odds with the principle of The Golden Rule, no matter which version of it is being stated. Letters, phone calls, emails, bumper stickers, yard signs… there are myriad ways to effectively communicate dissent without bringing harm. It is possible to express views and offer opinions in ways that do not endanger the vulnerable. And we are all vulnerable these days.

It can be tiresome to keep up goodwill at all times, especially under the conditions of crisis management. And yet, let’s encourage one another to manage the struggle with wisdom, thoughtfulness, and creativity. We do NOT know how long the current troubles will be around. Regardless, we are ALWAYS called to be thoughtful and caring. What is good for our neighbors IS good for us too, in the short term and in the long run.

Enacting the Golden Mask Rule Daily,

Pastor Chris

One Person’s Weeds Are Another Person’s Salad

Thu, 30 Apr 2020 20:44:00 GMT

When it comes to dandelions, I guess you could say I maintain a moderate position. I know some people who think of dandelions as nuisances to be eradicated. And I know some people who appreciate them as a delicacy to be harvested and munched on. Me? I think they’re kind of pretty and I just let them be.

These are the thoughts that rambled around in my mind as I spent time in the parsonage yard one recent day. The sun was beaming, the birds were singing, and being outdoors felt like an adventurous vacation. Having moved to the corner of Lorrain and Locust around Thanksgiving last year, this is our first spring here. It’s a sweet surprise to walk the grounds and see what comes to life, from the early-blooming forsythia to the azaleas, to the pair of dogwood trees—one yellow and one pink. On this particular day, though, it was the dandelions that really caught my attention and got me thinking about plants that pop up versus plants that are cultivated, about what is unwelcomed versus what is valued, about weeds versus salad. About perspective.

What perspective do you bring to the current situation of pandemic lockdown? We’ve been at it for something like 50 days now (I’ve lost count). Like all regular days, some are tougher, some are easier. But this unbidden sequestration wears on, and the layer of hardship gets thicker as we go. I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s time to readjust my attitude and look for the beauty, and maybe even the nutritious goodness, found in the uninvited quarantine crop. It’s not really within our garden tools to eradicate the circumstances, but maybe we can remind ourselves of the positive take aways.

I guess this is as good as any moment to count blessings and be thankful. Even when we are disheartened, gratitude is the things that pulls us from the quicksand of negativity. What’s on your list? On mine would be time to, indeed, watch nature flourish from the grand front porch and the wide back deck; time to talk for uninterrupted stretches with family and friends; time to cook favorite food and treats from scratch; time to read, read, read; time to actually order and install window coverings; time to think and pray; time to… be.

Every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good . (Romans 8:28, The Message) When our lives don’t look like we ever expected, when the details are stranger than the strangest movie plot, it’s a telling time to look for what might be attractive, or even tasty. Forage for the good. It’s there.

All Goodness Be Yours,

Pastor Chris

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Some Reminders…

Food Pantry Collection

Central Moravian Church is restocking its Food Pantry shelves and invites your participation. Pastor Lynnette Delbridge writes:

Pull in front of our church office building at 73 West Church Street between 1 and 3 p.m. on May 3, 2020 (rain date May 17th). Drop your grocery bags off in the wagons by the curb, give us a wave, and be on your way. We especially need the following items: coffee, tea, rice, dried and canned beans (black, red, garbanzo, kidney, baked), evaporated or boxed milk that does not need refrigeration, peanut butter, jelly, tuna, macaroni and cheese, canned meats, soap, and toilet paper. Other canned foods, candy and food items kids would enjoy are also appreciated. We might not be in the same room together, but we can still serve others together!

Sunday Virtual Gatherings in May

10:15 a.m. Virtual Fellowship Time

If you’ll be joining via computer, tablet, or smart phone, please use the link: https://zoom.us/j/91671628972?pwd=bFcwRXJqQUhVRmJpZXJGNGdUUVpSdz09

Meeting ID: 916 7162 8972

Password: 176048

11:00 a.m. Moravian Church Without Walls Worship

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link:

https://zoom.us/j/310492867 (no password required).

6:30 p.m. Zoom Prayers

If you’ll be joining via computer, table, or laptop, use this link:

https://zoom.us/j/91961743369?pwd=ZzVuWTdlMGszZTBYVm04Y282M3h4Zz09

Meeting ID: 919 6174 3369

Password: 216385

Join us for 1, 2, or all 3 gatherings on any or all Sundays. As with all things during the pandemic, things are subject to change. Keep an eye on emails or collegehillmoravian.org for updates.

Recognizing Jesus

Sun, 26 Apr 2020 13:45:00 GMT

I headed out to the grocery store last week. I covered my face and made my way toward the entrance to take a distanced stance in line behind 40 other masked shoppers, all of who seemed forlorn at the prospect of the daunting errand on a hopelessly gray day. I swept my eyes around the properly-spaced queue but didn’t recognize another despondent soul. The Wegman’s crowd moved forward efficiently, and it wasn’t long before a serious attendant squirted cleaning solution on the next available cart. I snapped it up and began the chores of hunting and gathering. No one greeted anyone. No one waved or chatted or grooved to the overhead music. Come to think of it, there wasn’t any overhead music. As soon as I had filled my cart, I made my way to the check-out line that extended halfway into a canned goods aisle. The whole experience was so somber that I nearly burst into tears.

Progressing nearer to the cash register but still several places back, I glanced around the separated crowd once more. This time, a tug of recognition grabbed me. Up ahead and to the right in the next aisle stood a friend. I called out his name and he responded, “How did you recognize me behind the mask?” Now, my friend has distinctively curly blonde hair which makes it difficult for him to navigate life with anonymity. Cheerfully, I reminded him of that. We chatted back and forth with a semblance of normalcy until it was time for each of us to unload our items onto our respective conveyor belts and wave goodbye.

I cannot tell you how it brightened my spirit just to encounter this familiar human being. Immediately, I felt rejuvenated. The realization warmed my troubled heart.

Fear and grief must have been the particles tainting the air in Jerusalem on those devastating days following Jesus’ execution. Disappointment must have clung to Jesus’ followers like a contaminate altering moods and attitudes. Some tried to shake it off with a walk and a change of scenery. A couple of them set out on foot for the next village down the road—Emmaus. Maybe a hike would shift their perspective and help them shed a layer of sorrow.

They were joined by a third hiker on the trail–no one they recognized. Why didn’t they recognize him when he caught up to them and matched his stride to theirs? Why didn’t they recognize him as he listened intently while they revisited the ugly events that had transpired to bring them to this time and place and demeanor? Why didn’t they recognize him when he chided them about not recognizing him? That’s what they wondered later in the evening, after they had spent 7 miles with him, not having any idea who their companion was. Shouldn’t they have sensed it in their bones? Shouldn’t they have felt a tingle up their spines? Shouldn’t they have just known, at the core, that the fellow on the path with them was Jesus ? Huh.

The story goes (Luke 24: 13-35) that, at the end of the day when it was time to peel off the trail to locate dinner and overnight accommodations, the hikers urged their new companion to stay with them. The third fellow agreed. Eventually, the three of them found themselves settled down for supper, and when he was at table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. And as soon as they did, he vanished from their sight. Did they even finish their meal before they hightailed it back to Jerusalem to spread the news? Who knows. But in recognizing Jesus, they were renewed in body, mind, and spirit. Recharged, they skedaddled!

We might wonder the same thing they asked themselves: Why did it take so long for them to recognize Jesus? The most obvious reason is that they simply had not been expecting him. As far as they knew it, he was D-E-A-D. End of story. His death was the catalyst that had cast everyone into despair in the first place. His death brought the suffocating sensation of hopelessness. His death ushered in a new era of extraordinary uncertainty.

But while the uncertainty may have been extraordinary, the resolution was so very ordinary. Jesus came to be recognized when these fellows caught a glimpse of the familiar. There Jesus was, just being Jesus. Present. Breaking bread. Simply.

Jesus is recognizable when we squint to see the familiar even as we exist under a thick layer of pandemic abnormality. Resurrection is recognizable in every glimmer of hopefulness, whether that happens on the outskirts of Emmaus or the interior of Wegman’s. Easter continues.

With Resurrection Hopefulness,

Pastor Chris

For the Earth

Wed, 22 Apr 2020 21:39:00 GMT

When The Virus came to disrupt everyone’s life, I went rummaging through storage totes in search of a shiny glass ornament I knew had stashed away somewhere. It occurred to me that the world and all her inhabitants needed intercessions, and so I displayed the small globe in a place I would see it often and be provoked to pray. It has been a meaningful practice. Today, though, it strikes me that making requests and supplications on behalf of the world is not exactly the same thing as petitioning on behalf of the Earth. On this 50 ^th Anniversary of the first Earth Day, I shift my focus. As I look upon the planetary orb, I direct my thoughts to the spectacle of Creation and give God my wonder, gratitude, and respect for such a magnificent place to call home.

It has not escaped my attention that, while most of humanity has been quarantining indoors, outdoors the air is clean and the waterways are clear. This is worthy of celebrating with a deep breath and a tall glass of water! It’s a shame that it has taken a multi-national grounding of humanity in order for nature to be refreshed, but maybe that is one of the silver linings of this pandemic’s storm cloud. When life and activities pick up speed again, let’s remember the lesson. We do have the capacity to tread lightly, and the Earth does have the capacity to heal. We are in partnership with Creation!

Let me invite you to an activity you can do from wherever you are sheltering this evening. Ideally, you’ll create a quiet moment and get in a comfortable position. Close your eyes, and allow your thoughts to drift to a place of natural beauty. Perhaps it’s a place that’s part of your daily existence, or maybe it’s someplace you’ve been to only once, but the scene sticks with you. A beach sunrise…a plunging waterfall…a pine grove…a wildflower field…a backyard pond…a mountaintop vista…. In your imagination, put yourself directly into the setting. Take it in. Look all around you. Observe not only what it looks like, but what it feels like, smells like. Stay in that place, marveling, as long as you’d like. And when you’re ready to come back, be sure to thank God for the opportunity to remember something so inspiring.

The psalmist was inspired by the natural world. If, after reading the psalm offered below, you feel likewise inspired to generate a poem or a song, please do! Share them with me if you’d like! Or sing/speak them aloud as a gift to the Earth herself.

With Praises and Thanksgiving,

Pastor Chris

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Psalm 104, various verses (CEB)

¹ Let my whole being bless the Lord!
    Lord my God, how fantastic you are!..
⁵ You established the earth on its foundations
    so that it will never ever fall…
¹⁰ You put gushing springs into dry riverbeds.
    They flow between the mountains,
¹¹         providing water for every wild animal—
        the wild donkeys quench their thirst.
¹² Overhead, the birds in the sky make their home,
    chirping loudly in the trees.
¹³ From your lofty house, you water the mountains.
    The earth is filled full by the fruit of what you’ve done.
¹⁴ You make grass grow for cattle;
    you make plants for human farming
        in order to get food from the ground,
¹⁵         and wine, which cheers people’s hearts,
        along with oil, which makes the face shine,
        and bread, which sustains the human heart.
¹⁶ The Lord’s trees are well watered—
    the cedars of Lebanon, which God planted,
¹⁷     where the birds make their nests,
    where the stork has a home in the cypresses.
¹⁸ The high mountains belong to the mountain goats;
    the ridges are the refuge of badgers.
¹⁹ God made the moon for the seasons,
    and the sun too, which knows when to set.
²⁰ You bring on the darkness and it is night,
    when every forest animal prowls.
²¹ The young lions roar for their prey,
    seeking their food from God.
²² When the sun rises, they gather together
    and lie down in their dens.
²³ Then people go off to their work,
    to do their work until evening.
²⁴ Lord, you have done so many things!
    You made them all so wisely!
The earth is full of your creations!
²⁵ And then there’s the sea, wide and deep,
    with its countless creatures—
    living things both small and large.
²⁶ There go the ships on it,
    and Leviathan, which you made, plays in it!
²⁷ All your creations wait for you
    to give them their food on time.
²⁸ When you give it to them, they gather it up;
    when you open your hand, they are filled completely full!
²⁹ But when you hide your face, they are terrified;
    when you take away their breath,
    they die and return to dust.
³⁰ When you let loose your breath, they are created,
    and you make the surface of the ground brand-new again.
³¹ Let the Lord’s glory last forever!
    Let the Lord rejoice in all he has made!

How Long?

Sat, 18 Apr 2020 17:15:00 GMT

How long, we wonder, is it going to be like this?

How long will this blockade be in place—the one that keeps us grounded in our rooms like so many punished teenagers. How long will the walls of our apartments and houses keep us safe from one enemy, but separated from the social interactions that foster our sanity? How long will our dining room tables substitute for classrooms and offices? How long will it be before a gentle touch, a tender kiss, a comforting hug will be free from lethal potential? How long?

How long will a simple errand to pick up a gallon of milk and a jar of spaghetti sauce feel more like mounting a treacherous expedition? How long will we need to arm ourselves with Handiwipes and scrub down the grocery cart before passing through a check-point into the fruits and vegetables department? How long will we tread tentatively through the wild aisles, hunting for elusive cans of tuna, wary the whole while that we’ll come within six feet of another shopper who might be reaching for the same item? How long will it feel threatening to wait near the magazines and candy bar racks until a cash register comes open? How long?

How long will we be masked, recognizable only from the bridge of the nose upwards? How long must be rely on face coverings stitched by thoughtful crafters, or carefully folded handkerchiefs secured with rubber bands, or desperately fashioned tube socks cut strategically and stuffed with coffee filters? How long will tightly woven cotton fabric be the flimsy barrier between health and illness? How long?

How long will financial calamity loom large, hovering on the air, invisibly, like The Virus itself? How long will the last paycheck or the current stimulus check or the maybe-we’ll-qualify unemployment check need to stretch? How long can the home mortgage go unpaid when home is the only place we’re allowed to be? How long can the causes and institutions and not-for-profits we are inclined to support carry on without that support? How long can our church? How long?

How long will we feel restless, caught somewhere daily between terror and boredom? How long will we be coated in a persistent layer of anxiety? How long will we numb our negative feelings with brownies and potato chips and way too much screen time?

How long will our angst leak out, unrecognized, as anger or despair or frustration or despondency? How long?

+++++

We speak about the unprecedented nature of these days living under the cloud of Covid-19, but the human reaction to stress and trauma is not unprecedented. If we contact trace our way back 3,000 years or so, give or take a couple of generations, we hear the psalmist voicing similar reactions.

As long as human beings have known pain and suffering, we have asked, “How long?” How long must we wrestle with this? How long must we endure this? How long must we be shaped by this? How long must we struggle with this?

And, oh, by the way, God—Where are you in this? Where did you go? How come I can’t see you? When are you going to check back in? Ever?

This is an ancient set of questions that might seem remarkable contemporary. Maybe there’s some solace in knowing that solidarity and empathy are not bound by the constructs of time. But if that is the case—that the sensation of human suffering hasn’t changed all that much over the centuries—then it should also hold true that it does not have to be a permanent posture. The author of Psalm 13 does not stay in the mind frame of abandonment for very long. By the end of the song, the psalmist comes around to noticing and naming God’s continued presence even in the midst of a devastating struggle. The psalmist ends up saying:

It’s not really possible to take a shortcut through the discomfort that results from being human. We feel what we feel. But it’s important to acknowledge these feelings, name them, sort them out. And it’s okay to shout these questions at God. The psalmist does! It’s part of the prayer process to ask, “How long? How long? How long will this go on?” Listening attentively for the unknowable answer, though, may be just what’s needed to notice that God’s presence hasn’t gone anywhere. God’s presence comes in the form of love and goodness. Even in the midst of The Virus, love and goodness surround us.

Easter is not just one day, but rather an ongoing season. Perhaps Easter is also an attitude. Perhaps Easter is the encouragement we need to reframe some things once we’re done soaking in them: How long…how long… how long will Christ be willing to be present with us? How long will Christ love us unconditionally? How long will Christ remain compassionate? How long will Christ be a force for healing?

How long? For the sake of this epoch, let’s say: Far beyond the scope and span and reach of The Virus.

Waiting, Yet Hopeful,

Pastor Chris

Improvisational Easter

Sun, 12 Apr 2020 21:28:00 GMT

It’s nearing the end of Easter Day 2020. No matter how many plans were altered, observances modified, or traditions re-imagined, the Good News of Jesus’ Resurrection holds true: The Lord is risen indeed!

Still, it has been odd, this celebration by substitution. As with pretty much everything in the era of The Virus, we have learned how to make do with what we have on hand. Just as we have figured out how to attend work and school without showing up in person, how to cook using whatever ingredients are in the pantry without stopping unnecessarily at the store, and how to get exercise without going to the gym, so too have we determined it is possible to experience a meaningful Easter even without many of the trappings we associate with a sensational celebration.

Though our temporary arrangements may not have been our preferred options, we now know that the tomb will always be empty whether there are live trombone players there to stir souls or not. New Life will always burst through whether someone is standing in the graveyard or not. Love will always win over death whether there are potted lilies to take home after the service or not.

At College Hill we sought to elevate this day above ordinary in a couple of ways. Draped in white fabric as a reminder that Jesus fled the grave and abandoned his burial cloth, the cross that is usually displayed indoors was moved outdoors to stand visibly as a sign of our faith to all who passed by. Though we could not gather, we still expressed our presence in the neighborhood with the ringing of a bell—a cheerful tone riding on the wind, announcing our unflappable joy. Many of us viewed recorded and live Easter services via the internet and, perhaps, spent even more time worshiping God than we might have had we not been sheltering at home.

We made do with what was available. And what is ALWAYS available to us is HOPE. Hope comes not only with the Easter sunrise, but with EVERY sunrise. Even on a weirdly improvisational High Holy Day, our hope has been refreshed.

Alleluia!

Pastor Chris

Pausing on the Way to Easter

Sat, 11 Apr 2020 11:47:00 GMT

Today is that awkward space between Good Friday and Easter Sunday when, if we’re paying attention at all to the rhythm of Holy Week, we remain sorrowful and pensive because Jesus has just died, and yet, we anticipate the joy that will come with tomorrow’s sunrise. It is called Great Sabbath, this commemoration of the timeframe when Jesus rested in the grave. When observed, the tone of the day is subdued. Reflective.

To be honest, though, I have typically used this day for making frantic preparations: assembling goodies in Easter baskets; baking a cake or a batch of cheesy potatoes for the impending family Easter gathering; arranging cascades of potted Easter flowers in the church sanctuary; obsessing about the settings on my alarm clock so as to not oversleep and be late for the Easter Dawn service… In the era of The Virus, though, these usual tasks have evaporated from my to do list. With far fewer distractions, contemplation becomes a simpler goal.

In Luke’s description of what happened immediately following Jesus’ death by crucifixion we learn that Joseph of Arimathea went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then he took it down, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and laid it in a rock-hewn tomb where no one had ever been laid. It was the day of Preparation, and the sabbath was beginning. The women who had come with him from Galilee followed, and they saw the tomb and how his body was laid. Then they returned, and prepared spices and ointments.

On the sabbath they rested according to the commandment. (Luke 23: 52-56, NRSV)

In the early hours of this morning, a remarkable line was crossed. A half-million people in our country have been proven to be infected with Covid-19. The most recent tally says 18,777 have died. It is appropriate on this Holy Saturday to be fazed by the numbers. It is appropriate to pause and pray for those who grieve. And it is appropriate to pause and pray for all who live in fear.

In the early hours of tomorrow morning, we will be reminded that hope is never lost! We will be reminded that Christ lives, and that New Life is abundant in beautiful ways we may never have recognized had we not been so very aware of Death.

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Sunday’s sunrise will take place at 6:27 a.m. I encourage you to wake up to watch it from your porch or your patio. (You can go back to sleep afterwards if you’d like!) To accompany the sunrise, the pastors of the Moravian Churches in Bethlehem have prepared a brief video message for you. Please use this youtube link to play it:

https://youtu.be/mPX_t-ZNugY .

Beginning at 6:00 a.m., Home Moravian Church in Winston-Salem, NC will offer a webcast you might be interested in. All sunrise worship info is posted here:

http://moraviansunrise.org/?fbclid=IwAR0O3X2BnXSz-ObscmGJFd-2-8xQ2MFPNxjzWBhzIw6aVelM2-k43K05oqM

At 8:00 a.m., the Moravian Churches in Bethlehem will ring bells to celebrate the Resurrection.

At 11:00 a.m., the Moravian Church Without Walls will broadcast its Zoom worship gathering:

https://zoom.us/j/310492867

From wherever you will be celebrating Easter, let it be joyful! Maybe I’ll “see” you virtually. That would be special!

Waiting,

Pastor Chris

Bleeding Heart

Fri, 10 Apr 2020 21:40:00 GMT

On graceful, arching stems, the pink blossoms shake in the stiff breeze and draw my attention. The perennial has sprung inconspicuously from dormancy into full bloom while the church building has moved from being a bustling place to dormancy. Had the Sacristans* not carried the old, rugged cross outdoors to set it up as a sorrowful marker of Good Friday, I may never have noticed the waving shrub. But there it is, growing and thriving. Lifeless to vibrant. A bleeding heart plant.

Dangling beneath thin branches, each delicate flower bears the shape of a heart, and each exquisite heart appears to drip one precious drop of blood.

This is my blood…shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sin…

One day last week, my husband Darrell and I spent a meaningful hour at the Miller-Keystone Blood Center to donate a couple of precious pints. To roll up a sleeve and allow a phlebotomist to wind a tourniquet around my arm before puncturing my skin always strikes me as a peculiar act of faith. But once the anxiety subsides and the vital fluid starts flowing through coiled tubing, it becomes a sacred moment. I can’t watch, I’ll admit, or I’ll faint. But I can feel the flow, and I can contemplate in the smallest of ways what it may have meant for Jesus to allow himself to be emptied out as the ultimate act of selflessness.

This is my blood…shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sin…

To call someone a “bleeding heart” is a slam. It’s used disparagingly to accuse someone of being extravagantly sympathetic (Miriam-Webster) or too concerned about people in need (Cambridge), or overdramatic in how much they care for and worry about other people (writingexplained.org).

This is my blood…shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sin…

Was Jesus too compassionate? Was Jesus too caring? Was Jesus too loving? Was Jesus too much? From the top of the church’s front steps I look out at that black-draped cross and that spectacle of a landscape plant and ponder Jesus—the original bleeding heart.

In Solemn Beauty,

Pastor Chris

*Thank you to our volunteers who prepared today’s display: Ron and Nancy Penrose with assistance from Nahum Pradhan.

Holy Origami

Wed, 08 Apr 2020 13:48:00 GMT

It’s a new daily ritual: pleating the bandanna in a particular way so as to align the fabric in protective layers, slipping rubber bands around the cloth sandwich, stretching the elastic loops over my ears but under the bows of my glasses.

This folding of the facemask is holy origami, a prayer for salvation in every tuck.

And this donning of the facemask is another step in the lengthening Litany of Covid—the practices we’ve quickly adopted and learned by heart, the steps we’ve memorized and can recite with as much accuracy as the 23 ^rd Psalm or the Lord’s Prayer. You know this gospel, chapter and verse: ¹ Wash your hands for 20 seconds (the time it takes to sing “Happy Birthday” twice); ² if soap and water are not available, use hand sanitizer; ³ avoid touching your face; ⁴ cover your cough or sneeze with your elbow; ⁵ practice social distancing; ⁶ stay home; ⁷ and now, wear masks.

This is the Holiness Code of our current situation. For anyone who has ever wondered how the rules of, say, for example, the Book of Leviticus came to be, pay attention to the times we’re living in. I suspect the evolution of regulations we’re experiencing right now—for the good of the community—is similar to how those ancient laws were born. Along the way they were solidified and codified into ceremonial shapes that may or may not have continued to serve the community in meaningful ways. (It would not serve us well if, when the pandemic is over, we continued to wear face coverings for the next thousands of years in order to commemorate the experience. But it would serve us well to continue some of the good habits we’ve been reinforcing.)

Holy Week itself is a ritual. We participate to remind ourselves of Jesus and the extraordinary actions he took to move a broken world closer to mercy, closer to grace, closer to God. Jesus himself used existing rituals as his starting point and infused them with refreshed purpose. Jesus did not erase the importance of Passover, a ritual that calls to mind God’s protection in the midst of tragedy. How beautiful! How timely! But Jesus enlarged that message when he offered the bread and cup as symbols of sacrificial LOVE that would come to be the defining ritual of our faith tradition.

The Last Supper. The Lord’s Supper. The Eucharist. The Holy Communion. It is the centerpiece of Maundy Thursday. And, like so many other things right now, the ritual will be different than we’re used to. But it will be no less significant. As a devotional practice, at the very least, I invite you to read Jesus’ story for yourselves in your personal Bibles or online at www.biblegateway.com . Choose from Matthew, Mark, Luke or John. Or read through them all. If you have your own copy of The Readings for Holy Week , a mashup of all the Gospel accounts, you might prefer to read through that.

And also, I will offer a freshly-shaped approach to Maundy Thursday through a Zoom gathering at 7:00 p.m. in which our College Hill congregation can come together through the power of the digital screen, unmasked face to unmasked face. Instructions for how to join us will come to you later today in an email, so please be on the lookout.

Be mindful as you move through your day. With every new survival practice comes an opportunity to thrive as people of faith. With every wipe-down, every scrubbing, every tentative step outside the front door comes a chance to offer a prayer, a hope, an act of devotion.

Masked for Good,

Pastor Chris

A PALM SUNDAY REALIGNMENT

Sat, 04 Apr 2020 15:24:00 GMT

Hosanna!

It’s the Word of the Day on any given Palm Sunday. It’s the word we usually offer up as a cheer, an enthusiastic burst of praise to Jesus as we recall him parading down the street on a donkey. In our Moravian Christian tradition, we even have a beloved (though complicated) song we sing back and forth, antiphonally, smiling the whole time because it is such a delightful moment. And even though we usually have an awareness that our hosannas initiate Holy Week–a somber time of remembering Jesus’ persecution and execution–we do so knowing what the outcome will be: Resurrection!

But our hosannas sound different this year. They are contaminated, like everything else, with worry. With insecurity. With unknowing.

Hosanna.

If we do the linguistical somersaults that take us from English back to Greek, and from Greek back to Hebrew, we discover the original definition of hosanna :

Save us! Save us now! Save us, please! Just save us!

This is the meaning that suits the crisis. This is the meaning that matches the moment.

This is the prayer that wells up—unbidden—the first moment you slip a bandana-and-hair-tie-mask over your face when you step out to walk the dog. This is the prayer that springs up—spontaneously—when a loved one awakens with a fever. This is the prayer that surges—instinctively—when you can’t bring yourself to turn off the news. This is the authentic prayer that might not ever be spoken from the lips because it lives in the gut.

Hosanna.

+++ ++

As hosanna is the Word of the Day, palm fronds are the Symbol of the Day. This is because, in some of the biblical descriptions of the event, the people who cheered for Jesus as he processed through the streets of Jerusalem cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road as a sign of recognition and respect–much like “rolling out the red carpet” for celebrities and royals. To capture that sense, it’s typical for churches to distribute palms.

But even more than displaying an intentionally severed branch that will decay, I like to commemorate the start of Holy Week by tending a living, potted palm. I will trim back the boughs that have cycled through the seasons but are now spent because, it’s true, death is a part of life. But I will also appreciate the new growth that first shoots straight up like a blade and then fans out magnificently. And I will remember that, it’s also true, NEW LIFE is irrepressible.

This is the very reason why hosanna means more than “save us” to anyone who has ever been moved by the wonder of Easter. It is why hosanna also means “rejoice!” This is the year, more than any other, that we will try to hold both meanings in our hearts at the same time.

Hosanna!

Expectantly,

Pastor Chris

April Thoughts

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 15:58:00 GMT

It’s not quite Easter yet. For anyone who is struggling to keep track in these time-warpy days of quarantine, on the calendar, Easter comes in 11 days. It’s not quite Palm Sunday yet, either. On the calendar, that comes in 4 days.

Before we get to Easter, it’s typical for church people to contemplate Holy Week—to reconstruct and even simulate the dark days Jesus experienced during the last week of his life on earth. The glorious celebration of Easter doesn’t make much sense until we’ve gained some measure of understanding about sacrifice, or suffering, or pain, or abandonment, or longing, or fear, or upheaval, or death, or profound sorrow. This is why our Moravian Christian tradition immerses us in the most graphic, most difficult chapters of Jesus’ story in the time between Palm Sunday and Easter.

How ironic that the predicted worst days of The Virus Crisis will coincide with our observance of Holy Week. The somber episodes we often try to replicate when we focus on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday have suddenly become authentic experiences in real time. This is a tremendously harsh truth.

But another bit of truth is that, perhaps, we have come to know an urgent craving for Life and New Life. The depth of our collective heartache leaves us eager for Resurrection.

It’s not quite Easter yet. It may not yet feel like Easter when we arrive at April 12. But as with all the daffodils blooming right now that came from homely, nearly lifeless, oniony brown bulbs, there will be brightness again one day. There will be joy. This is what it means for us to find reassurance in Christ’s Resurrection. It will see us through to the other side of a difficult Holy Week that might not subside exactly according to schedule.

Thinking of schedules, in the next day or two, I’ll let you know about ways to participate in online options for Holy Week Readings, Easter observances, and such.

It’s not quite Easter yet. But here is a poem that formed itself in my head a few days ago…

Good Health and Good Hope, Pastor Chris

Prayer Time

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:59:00 GMT

Dear Ones–I have no doubt that you’ve been engaging in prayer in your homes and in your hearts. Who hasn’t been looking to God for protection and solace in these troubled days? While we haven’t been able to be in the same space together, united in one purpose, I know our individual prayers have been honest and heartfelt and powerful. Imagine, then, what might happen if we were able to join together and lift up prayers for ourselves, for one another, and for the world!

Would you be willing to join me for a prayer experiment? I have set up two opportunities for us to meet (sort of) face to face for a time of prayer through the virtual connector called Zoom. This is new to me, and maybe it is to you, too. But if we are eager to come together for prayer, and if we are patient with each other, this could be just the thing we need. This could be just the thing the world needs!

Especially if this is your first time using Zoom, you’ll want to arrive early enough to follow the installation instructions to download the Zoom app.

Thursday, April 2 at 1:00 p.m.

If you would like to participate, please use this link from your computer, tablet, or smart phone: https://zoom.us/j/346399468

To call in (no video), call 1-646-558-8656 Meeting ID: 346 399 468

Thursday, April 2 at 7:00 p.m.

If you would like to participate, please use this link from your computer, tablet or smart phone: https://zoom.us/j/355240390

To call in (no video), call 1-646-558-8656 Meeting ID: 355 240 390

Let’s give this a try. In doing so, we might put an end to some of the unraveling.

Prayerfully yours, Pastor Chris

PPE

Sun, 29 Mar 2020 03:10:00 GMT

Personal Protective Equipment.

Only a week ago, PPE was a new acronym to my ears. Now it is part of our conversational vocabulary—a standard expression in the language of Covid. We can tick off the components: gowns, face shields, gloves, and masks. We know these items are crucial to the safety of patients and treatment-givers both. And we know that they are in short supply.

But, sequestered in their own houses, whole battalions of crafters have taken up their sewing machines and stitched together masks to rival anything you might see coming from designer fashion houses: masks of denim; masks of flannel; masks of canvas; masks of calico quilting scraps; masks trimmed in elastic for ease; masks trimmed in ribbon once the elastic has all been used up.

Masks of love.

What a beautiful effort, this drive to drape our community caregivers in colorful, protective layers of fabric—grown-up, wearable, wrap-around security blankets.

People like Marie Keim (whose sewing project is pictured above), Diana Worley, and no doubt many other members and friends of our congregation have been participating as sewists in this campaign. They want to do something meaningful to counter this macabre pandemic. In their goodness, their inclination is to protect and shield the vulnerable.

With The Virus nearby, it may not be long before we begin to be effected by its invasion. People we know and love may get sick. Death might touch our hearts. Grief may sweep in on the heels of The Virus. Hardship may be ahead. These are difficult things to think about, and yet, these things are beginning to cross our minds. Maybe part of the reason sewing masks is such a popular activity is that it allows for concentrating on something positive while pushing fear off into the closet where the ironing board is stored.

Not everyone is handy with a needle and thread, but everyone can pray that God would protect and shield the vulnerable. At this point, we are ALL vulnerable, so let us pray for one another. Let us pray that God cover us like PPE, warding off physical danger the way a hazmat suit does. And let us pray, too, that God would guard us from emotional and spiritual peril, hugging us close like so many pieces of handstitched PPE.

Fierce and gentle are the protections God brings. We hope to find ourselves shielded by both kinds.

Faithfully,

Pastor Chris

Naming Favorite Things

Thu, 26 Mar 2020 13:17:00 GMT

First thing this morning, as I sat down to my laptop and habitually flipped on the Channel 69 website to check on local news of The Pestilence, I found the most surprising headline: “Sunrise over Allentown.” From atop the PPL building, our region’s skyscraper, a stationary camera was livestreaming the event. The sight filled me with gladness–a commodity that is almost as hard to come by these days as antibacterial wipes. I was grateful for the reminder that the sun does come up without fail, and its light covers us all indiscriminately. Hope dawns with the arrival of every new day.

We have a joke in my family. My husband and sons know that I avoid watching movies about war. They tease me about The Sound of Music being my favorite “war movie” because its tension is built around the VonTrapp family’s actions to stay out of the grip of evil—the Nazis.

Spoiler alert: If you haven’t seen the story on film or on stage, skip the next paragraph.

At the end of The Sound of Music , as the VonTrapp family flees their homeland with the Nazis close behind, they hide behind tombstones in the graveyard of the abbey. (The scene still sends chills up my spine even though I’ve seen the show at least 30 times.) At the height of the suspense, the youngest daughter in the family whispers, “Would it help if we sang about our favorite things?” Of course, in that particular situation, bursting into song was not a workable solution! But as she had learned earlier in the movie, in a moment of great anxiety (a thunder storm), an effective coping mechanism is naming the things that evoke joy. Raindrops on roses. Whiskers on kittens. Bright copper kettles. Warm woolen mittens. Brown paper packages tied up with string….

Today, when the weight of the shuttered world is just too much, let’s name the things for which we are grateful. Let’s make lists. Mine would include: the daffodils I can see blooming in the yard; the chocolate-chip-coconut-banana-bread I had time to bake; opportunities to talk by phone with my loved ones; a comfortable home with a repaired roof and an efficiently working furnace; a loving husband and a supportive community; a comfy sweatshirt; and, of course, the sunrise. What’s on your list?

These favorite things you’re listing? These become the prayers of gratitude we lift to God. Even in times that bring out fretfulness and apprehension, we remain blessed in countless ways. Naming our blessings helps to put our worries in better perspective, and couldn’t we all use that right now?

Always Hopeful,

Pastor Chris

Taking Shelter

Tue, 24 Mar 2020 11:41:00 GMT

I grew up in the Midwest where tornado preparedness training was as much an annual spring ritual as the arrival of the first robin or the start of baseball season. When I was in elementary school, one full week out of every academic year was devoted to Tornado Awareness Education. At the beginning of that week, all K-4 students would assemble in the small gymnasium, sit cross-legged on the wooden floor, and view a 16mm film about what to do when a rotating funnel cloud bears down on your small town. Once properly motivated by terror, we would spend the remainder of the week learning about the differences between a tornado watch and a tornado warning, and between a tornado alarm and a fire alarm. There were worksheets.

And then, after all this preparation, the week would culminate in a tornado drill. The alarm would sound in short, sharp blasts, and we’d rise up from our little desks to file from the room to a designated shelter area, either in the school basement or in a windowless hallway. We would crouch down low and cover our heads with our arms to stave off any impending roof collapse. Afterwards, our bloodstreams flooded with residual adrenaline, we’d go outside for recess.

God will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble. Psalm 27: 5a

We are hunkered down these days in varying degrees based on varying decrees as novel coronavirus spreads across the land. It comes not so much like a quick-strike tornado but rather a monstrous, developing wave we never knew we needed to prepare for. The protections we require to guard ourselves and others from illness are found within the confines and comforts of our own homes, and in the cleansing properties of soap and water.

But as the day of trouble stretches into weeks and, likely, months, what else do we need to be sheltered from? I might pray that God shelter us from impatience so that we do not damage our significant relationships as we share close quarters. I might pray that God shelter us from boredom so that we remain willing to stick to our quarantine routines. I might pray that God shelter us from indifference so that we keep up our concern for vulnerable neighbors and not give up too soon on the practices that will keep them safe.

At the end of our elementary school tornado drills, the principal would signal the “all clear,” and anyone who was anxious would feel an immediate surge of relief. We look forward to the day when we experience that kind of collective relief for our community. As we exhale, we might recognize that God has protected us in ways we never knew we would need.

Sheltering,

Pastor Chris

Discipleship Always

Mon, 23 Mar 2020 01:51:00 GMT

On this Sabbath day, it has been so strange not to be with you, gathered in our beautiful sanctuary, praising God together. To gather is a core value of discipleship, and so I miss the rhythm of my typical Sunday morning: warming up with the choir; hearing one of the Elders welcome everyone to worship; announcing all of the lively activities planned for the week ahead; greeting one another with a bow or a sign of peace; singing hymns and reciting affirmations of faith; spending a few improvisational moments with kids who say the darndest things; praying for one another; listening for God’s voice through scripture and proclaiming Good News; smiling at the ushers as they carry the collected offerings up the center aisle to be dedicated to God.

Our ushers are on hiatus for the time being, as are we all, while we perfect our social distancing skills. But even though we may not physically gather , that should not curtail the other ways we practice discipleship. At any and every moment we may be called upon to connect or to serve . When we do these things authentically, it becomes clear that we are not afraid to live , and that’s what is attractive to many who are fearful. When, as Christ-followers, we are bold yet kind, brave yet compassionate, folks notice. That’s how we multiply .

One other core value of discipleship is to give. Regular, thoughtful financial support is what allows the church to carry out all the other aspects of discipleship. As you might suspect if you were to think about it, sometimes give is linked to gather . When there is no gathering, giving has a tendency to drop off. It’s understandable, but it doesn’t have to be this way.

Last Wednesday I stopped by the church office to check on things in our closed building. The mail had recently been delivered through the slot in the office door. I stooped down to pick up the three pieces laying on the floor. Each envelope bore a return address label from the household of a retired clergyperson. I fanned the envelopes out on the desk and felt an immediate flood or warmth and gratitude for the folks who kept up their regular patterns of giving even in these irregular times. And I thought, “Who would better understand the importance of an uninterrupted income stream than someone who has already led a congregation through a bout of crisis?”

The photo at the top is a testimony to their stalwart commitment to discipleship. When I asked permission to share this observation with you as an encouragement to continue or perhaps even increase your own giving habits at this crucial time, some exercised true humility, noting, “We don’t do this for notoriety.” It took some gentle arm-twisting for some of them to concede. But I assured them that you would be inspired, so I hope you are! Thank you so very much, Doug and Rosemary Kleintop, Will and Nancy Harstine, and David and Nancy Danneberger.

And God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work. 2 Corinthians 9:8.

Faithfully,

Pastor Chris

Information & Updates

Sat, 21 Mar 2020 14:39:00 GMT

Greetings, God’s People! As is so often the case, the Moravian Daily Texts for this day seem remarkably fitting for our lives at this exact moment in time even though they were selected for publication several years ago. In case you haven’t read them yet…

The Lord said, “I will grant peace in the land, and you shall lie down, and no one shall make you afraid.” Leviticus 26:6

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:7

Prayer for the Day : Prince of peace, fill our hearts and souls with your heavenly peace. May it lead to comfort, healing, and reconciliation as your peace permeates our lives, our relationships, and our communities. Amen.

++++++

Just because we are physically distant from one another doesn’t mean we should be out of touch. Here are some things you might be wondering about…

WORSHIP

CONGREGATIONAL CARE

BEING SUPPORTIVE

Faithfully Yours,
Pastor Chris

How Are You Feeling?

Sat, 21 Mar 2020 01:12:00 GMT

Cast all your anxiety on God because God cares for you. 2 Peter 5:7

On this day in 1928, Fred Rogers was born. This seems a fitting thing to mention because—until The Pestilence turned life upside down—our congregation had been engaged in a Lenten series inspired by the movie, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood . The feature film is about a real-life journalist’s encounter and subsequent friendship with the Presbyterian minister who created the simply profound children’s television show, Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood . When asked in an interview what he was trying to accomplish through his TV show, Fred Rogers said, “We are trying to give children positive ways to deal with their feelings.”

During the course of the movie, it becomes clear that adults also need positive ways to deal with their feelings. And are there ever a lot of feelings to feel these days! On the negative side, they run the gamut from restless to apprehensive to jittery to annoyed to angry to frightened.

Have you paused for a moment to figure out exactly what it is you’re feeling? It would probably be good for your mental health to do so. Naming what is going on within us helps us to get a handle on our emotions and allows us to choose our responses. In the movie, we discovered that Fred Rogers had several preferred methods for working through his negative feelings. He would pound on the lowest notes of his piano, or swim laps, or write letters, or pray for people—lots of people—by name.

Practicing kindness through empathy and compassion also aids in overcoming negative feelings. In helping others, we help ourselves step into a brighter day. There are lots of things that can be done even under the strange dome of sheltering in place. You can make phone calls to spread cheer, pull the weeds from a neighbor’s spring flower bed, send encouraging notes to old friends, open the windows and play the violin or the banjo or the harp for the world to hear, or just SMILE while walking around YOUR beautiful neighborhood…

When we were meeting in person on Wednesday nights, part of our ritual was to proclaim a “Kindness Declaration,” a sort of faith statement penned to go with our Lenten study. In honor of Fred Rogers’ birthday, and as a positive response to a situation that could easily sap our spirits if we allowed it, I share these words. You might want to speak them out loud:

Kindness Declaration

We believe in kindness.

We believe that small actions

can have a large impact,

that kindness is contagious.

We believe in being neighborly.

We believe that gratitude

restores the soul,

That taking time to say “thank you”

is always worth the effort.

We believe we are missionaries

in our neighborhoods–

that being salt and light in the world means loving and living like Christ.

We believe in the life-changing

power of friendship.

We believe that beautiful days

are not made by what we have,

but by who we love.

We believe in cultivating

the Fruit of the Spirit:

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness,

and self-control.

We thank God for this beautiful day.

Lighting Up the Darkness

Fri, 20 Mar 2020 03:12:00 GMT

For awhile now, the expression “going viral” has meant that something has really taken off and spread rapidly through social media. It might be a cat video or a news clip, a sports blooper or a comical meme. The more clicks a post receives, the faster it climbs in popularity. To “go viral” is a phenomenon so embedded in our culture that we’ve probably long since forgotten the origin of the expression.

In this time of global crisis, we’ve been reminded. As coronavirus replicates and devastates, “going viral” suddenly becomes an expression of dis-ease. Anxiety. Fear.

I find myself wondering about the antidote to these conditions. What might it be? Perhaps the treatment lies in whatever brings comfort, familiarity, and hope.

For me, all of these characteristics are captured in the beautifully beloved symbol of the Moravian Star. With its warm glow gently bathing space with light, I recall that Christ Jesus illuminates in a similar, inviting way. Gazing at it, my blood pressure decreases.

Normally, a Moravian Star is displayed from Advent to Epiphany, and then it gets packed away for most of the rest of the year. But there’s nothing normal about our situation. Earlier today, I learned that some folks in North Carolina had begun to take their stars out of storage and hang them as a sign of hope to a weary world. I don’t think it will take much convincing to encourage folks everywhere to do the same. In this way, we overspread something destructive with goodness!

This is OUR viral moment, people of God! This is OUR opportunity to light the darkness, and to give fresh hope to those whose hope is dimming.

What came into being through the Word was life,
and the life was the light for all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness doesn’t extinguish the light. John 1: 4-5 (CEB)

Shining in Faith,

Pastor Chris

Information & Updates

Wed, 18 Mar 2020 21:03:00 GMT

Greetings, God’s People! Especially during this time of social distancing and separation, I’ve been looking for ways to keep our church family and friends connected. This blog will serve as our primary hub for sharing both INFORMATION and INSPIRATION. I’ll try to always clearly label and tag each post so you know which type you’ll be getting. The posts will all be collected on the website under the BLOG tab. That way, when you say to yourself, “Now, where did I see that blurb about the whatchamacallit,” you can go to collegehillmoravian.org and easily find it. (Or, at least, that’s the plan.)

In case you haven’t gotten the message, please understand that we will NOT be gathering in our church building for our usual activities or worship during the public health crisis. Here are some things you should know:

Of course, I urge you to do what you can to keep yourself and others safe and healthy. Follow all the protocols of hand washing, disinfecting surfaces you touch, social distancing, and all the things we’re reminded about regularly. This is how we show love to our neighbors!

Be safe. Be well. Be blessed,

Pastor Chris

Inspiration: A Prayer for Protection

Tue, 17 Mar 2020 20:17:00 GMT

On this 17 ^th day of March, a day which is usually uproariously festive, many of us are not feeling light-hearted enough to dance a jig. Weighed down with concerns, we need more than luck and leprechauns to see us through. The prayer attributed to St. Patrick seems to be quite fitting. (I am especially partial to the third stanza.)

Known as “St. Patrick’s Breastplate,” it is a request for God’s protection during a battle. It is a requisition of a Kevlar vest. It is a plea to be shielded at the core, at the very center of one’s vitality. For all who are wary of exposure to the invisible forces of a microscopic virus, for all who are imperiled by its economic destruction, and for all who feel cutoff and vulnerable, let God’s care be your reinforcement:

I bind this day to me forever

By power of faith, Christ’s incarnation;

His baptism in Jordan river;

His death on cross for my salvation;

His bursting up from the spiced tomb;

His riding up the heavenly way;

His coming at the day of doom;

I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself today .

The power of God to hold and lead,

His eye to watch, his might to stay,

His ear to hearken to my need,

The wisdom of my God to teach,

His hand to guide, his shield to ward;

The word of God to give me speech,

His heavenly host to be my guard.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,

Christ behind me, Christ before me,

Christ beside me, Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort and restore me,

Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,

Christ in hearts of all that love me,

Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the name,

The strong name of the Trinity,

By invocation of the same,

The three in one, and one in three.

Of whom all nature has creation,

Eternal Father, Spirit, Word,

Praise to the Lord of my salvation;

Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

In Faith,

Encouragement for the Days Ahead

Tue, 17 Mar 2020 00:22:00 GMT

God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7 (NKJV)

Such times we’re living in! Was it only a week ago that we were looking forward to the NCAA basketball tournament? Or to stopping by a favorite restaurant for a long, slow meal with a group of friends? Or to choir practice? Or to dartball? Or to a simple, quick trip to the well-stocked grocery store for perfectly ordinary, everyday items? I’m nostalgic for the good ol’ days of early March!

Surreal as it seems, a spiky virus has overtaken whatever we once thought of as normal. Uncertainty abounds, and we certainly don’t like uncertainty!

Some things are certain, though:

To paraphrase the verse at the top of the page, when we remember the power of love—of empathy and compassion and good will—and when we remember to use our sound minds—our intelligence and problem-solving skills and rational thoughts—then fear is not our M.O.

+++

Welcome to the inaugural post of a new blog. Here I hope to provide current information about what is happening at College Hill Moravian Church during this trying season of pandemic. I also hope to provide encouragement to souls weary with worry. Check back often. This will be one of the primary ways we keep in touch while being kept apart by circumstances.

Be safe. Be well. Be blessed.

Pastor Chris