Author: The Rev. Dr. Agnes W. Norfleet

I have a special memory of working with one of our congregation’s Associate Pastor Nominating Committees. We had met almost weekly for nearly a year soliciting input for the position description, networking, reading seemingly countless applications, holding initial phone conversations, small group Zoom interviews, and full committee interviews to discern God’s leading us to the right candidate. Toward the end of that search that was leading us to our final candidate, one member of the APNC said, “There was a moment in which it seemed like the Holy Spirit just entered the room.”

That’s what every search committee prays for, hopes for, and anticipates – a moment of palpable clarity. A moment in which it seems like the choice is a God thing and not just human intuition, the melding of the mind and heart, the discernment of a call. For this reason, I am fond of reminding committees early in the process that, by their work together, they will become greater than the sum of their parts. In community with one another we open our circle of discernment to make room for the Spirit.

The Congregational Meeting to call our new Associate Pastor for Congregational Care this coming Sunday following the 10 am worship service is the joyful celebration of the Spirit’s work on our midst. The APNC that has been meeting together this last year to find the best candidate for BMPC represented the diversity of our congregation and the constituent ministries. Sometimes we did not fully agree on some aspect of the search process or the fit of a particular candidate. However, when we began to engage our finalist in conversation there was a clear and palpable unanimity of discernment.

At the candidate’s request, we are not posting her name in this column, which appears on our website, to help prevent word getting to her current church before Sunday, when her call is confirmed by us and she can freely share the news of her departure there.

However, by now you should have received the brochure in the mail which fills out the details of her sense of call to ministry, her love for God and the church, and her excitement about joining the pastoral staff at BMPC. Not only does she bring the level of experience and gifts for which we had been looking, but she carries a winsome presence that attracts others into easy conversation about life and faith.

The candidate had planned to be here in person for worship and the Congregational meeting, but unfortunately while on vacation this week she sprained her ankle which prevents her ability to travel to Bryn Mawr. Our Presbyterian polity does not require her to be present when we vote to call her, but I encourage you to read the mailing in anticipation of the meeting so that you can join the APNC and pastoral staff in our excitement that the Spirit has indeed entered the room.

The candidate will announce her departure from her current congregation on July 14, after BMPC acts to call her, so please hold any details in confidence until then.

While several folks extended their stay in France, most of us who joined the BMPC Choir Tour to France returned Tuesday evening, tired perhaps from travel but also exhilarated by the experience. There are stories to tell, pictures to share, videos of the choir singing in stunningly beautiful and historic cathedrals, from Aix-en-Provence to Paris, with stops in between for sightseeing, community building, and, of course, amazing meals. Larry and I were privileged to be among the guests who got to tag along with the choir and support them with our presence during their five concerts.

Among the memories, one of the most special was the first concert at Basilique-Sainte-Marie-Madeliene in Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume, about a 30-minute bus ride from Aix-en-Provence. The small village boasts a memory of Mary Magdalene crossing the Mediterranean on a boat with neither sail nor rudder and miraculously landing there, where she spent the rest of her life living and worshipping in a nearby grotto. The Basilica, dating back to the early 12^th century, treasures relics of her body in a lovely chapel there, a destination for the pious who adore Mary Magdalene as the Mother of Mercy and for her taking the Christian faith to Provence in the south of France.

The joy for us in that special place was having dinner with members of the Ukrainian community who had gathered in that region to escape the war, mostly young families with children, and to have their choir join ours for three special choral pieces sung together in their native language. During dinner, some of us heard their stories of how they had to flee their homeland after the Russian invasion, their fears that they may never return, the challenges of raising children in another country, and their hopes that someday peace will come.

It was especially poignant to have that experience at the beginning of a week that included reports of political violence at home, as well as increased devastation in Gaza, Israel, Iran, and Ukraine, a week that ended with the United States dropping massive bombs on Iran. And yet, there we were together in a full church listening to music offered in multiple languages to the glory of God. The concert was a fundraiser to purchase the ambulance you see in the picture for the front lines in Ukraine, providing emergency dental surgeries and care. Needless to say, we gave generously toward this crucial mission toward wellbeing and peace.

Presbyterian pastor and author Eugene Peterson suggested that song is the result of excess energy. He noted, “When we are normal, we talk. When we are dying, we whisper. But when there is more in us than we can contain, we sing.” In a world at war and mounting despair, that special evening of the BMPC choir tour was a beautiful demonstration of uncontainable hope, faith, and joy in being part of God’s beloved community.

Every year during the season of Eastertide, the Common Lectionary appoints scripture readings which lift up the image of God as the Good Shepherd. On the fourth Sunday of Easter, in each year of the lectionary’s three-year cycle, Psalm 23 and a selection from John 10 are offered to the ecumenical community as appropriate readings for the day. Some churches call it Good Shepherd Sunday, the annual reminder of the powerful biblical image of God’s love and care to protect and guide all people.

Today, while the world’s eyes were fixed on the chimney rising above the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican, awaiting the next plume of smoke to arise, we could already see in our mind’s eye a newly elected Pope walking down the aisle of St Peter’s Basilica carrying that familiar gilded shepherd’s crook. Even for urban people who rarely cross paths with a herd of sheep, the symbol is a powerful reminder of God as a strong and gentle guardian who encourages us to follow the example of Christ in love and service.

Peter Gomes, who was Professor of Christian Morals and Minister of the Memorial Church at Harvard, noted that the late 17th-century congregational churches in New England are never described as “founded.” Their signs will not say, Founded in 1690… or 1724… or 1802. Instead, they used this evocative nomenclature and said, Gathered in 1690. Gathered in 1724. Gathered in 1802. A church gets founded once with minutes reflecting the decision of a governing body and recording a finite list of the names of charter members. However, a church that is gathered marks its founding date but also carries a promise of the future. A gathered congregation describes a living community that will continue to grow while the Risen Christ blesses the church as a Good Shepherd, welcoming more diverse people into the unity of God’s fold.

This Sunday, the fold of BMPC will expand to welcome a large class of new members. Always a celebration of Christian hospitality, I am fond of saying that when we receive new members, God is making of our old congregation a new church. It’s true because of the unique gifts, commitments, and needs each new member brings. Our welcome of each one affirms God’s good intentions for everyone to be bound together under God’s guidance, protection, and care.

It’s a lovely coincidence that the reception of new members this spring falls on Good Shepherd Sunday as together we celebrate how our church gathering is welcoming, inclusive, dynamic, and growing. Join us on Sunday to hear beloved Good Shepherd passages of scripture and to welcome new friends into our fold.

There is a common countenance pastors fall into as we approach Easter, and I’m not talking about a thoughtful Lenten discipline of spiritual preparation. It’s the customary response to nearly any request that is not urgent. “Let’s get to that after Easter,” we say.

It’s how we talk about meeting up with a friend for a cup of coffee, planning an upcoming event, or getting to something that has already been on the to-do list for a while. On the one hand, it’s a pastoral way of saying, I am really focused on all the things that happen during our upcoming Holy Week. On the other hand, it can be simply a delay tactic without much holiness attached. When Easter comes in late April, many wonderful occasions get placed on the “Let’s get to that after Easter” list, with less time to fit them in before summer.

This year, the whole BMPC Eastertide calendar is packed with the celebrations of key transitions. Here’s the quick rundown of Sunday worship alone. This week’s Ordination and Installation of Elders and Deacons, followed by a May 4 Hymn Festival during the 10 am worship service, with the Step-Up celebration for fifth graders receiving their hymnals and prayers for high school seniors. On Mother’s Day, we’ll welcome a large class of new members, and the following Sunday, we’ll celebrate Confirmation.

Kate Bowler has described Eastertide as “a whole season meant to be a kind of slow unfolding. Not a sprint. Not a spiritual glow-up. Just the long, meandering walk toward whatever comes next.” What a joy it is to take that walk by marking these special moments: the Ordination of new lay leaders, children growing up into youth ministry, graduations, new members, and Confirmation.

Easter may have come and gone, but Eastertide leads us forward in celebration of all the good things that come next for us disciples of the Risen Christ.

This coming Sunday, we will begin our walk through Holy Week with Jesus toward the cross, and like the long-ago crowds in Jerusalem, our joyful procession will quickly turn toward his passion. The cheerful refrains of “All Glory, Laud, and Honor” will move into the more mournful tunes of “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded.” As Old Testament scholar Kathleen O’Connor has written of Holy Week services, they “somehow perform in word and deed, in song and in silence, in ways beyond mere thought, the most confounding mystery to which we Christians cling – that in the midst of death, God bestows life.”

Holy Week invites us to journey deeply into that mystery to which we cling: the truth of God’s incarnation. God is revealed to us in the person of Jesus, who joins us in everything that makes us human, including pain, loss, suffering, and death. To acknowledge the depth of God’s love, revealed on the cross, can raise our spirits to new heights at Easter’s dawn.

In these volatile days of change, uncertainty, instability, and fear, the liturgical movement through Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday is a poignant reminder of God’s presence in the valley of the shadow of death. It is an invitation to remember that God’s love for the world in Jesus Christ is never just about us and our individual lives but about how we live together in community and in the world.

English theologian and writer Janet Morley captures the invitation of moving through Holy Week to the joy of Easter’s dawn in this prayer:

When we are all despairing. When the world is full of grief.

When we see no way ahead and hope has gone away:

roll back the stone.

Although we fear change, although we are not ready,

although we’d rather weep and run away:

roll back the stone.

Because we are coming with the women.

Because we hope where hope is vain.

Because you call us from the grave and show the way:

roll back the stone.

I hope that you will heed the invitation of BMPC’s Holy Week services to worship before the depths of God’s suffering love for the world as you prepare to stand in awe before the joyful hope of resurrection.

Those who live at earth’s farthest bounds are awed by your signs; you make the gateways of the morning and the evening shout for joy. Psalm 65:8, NRSV

I recently came across a lovely contemporary translation of this verse from Eugene Peterson’s The Message, which reads, “Far and wide they’ll come to a stop, they’ll stare in awe, in wonder. Dawn and dusk take turns calling, ‘Come and worship.'”

I love that! These early spring mornings, I am often outside with the dog at dawn and overwhelmed by the chorus of birds in the trees overhead making such a sound that now I have words to describe it, “Come and worship.” What a glorious way to begin the day in awe and wonder at their joyful praise.

From beginning to end, we cannot separate the revelation of God in holy scripture from the natural world around us. The drama of salvation has a special focus on God’s covenant relationship with humankind, but the scripture adorns that drama with flowers, buds and fruits; with birds and nests and shade trees; with rivers, streams and flowing fountains. Our human spirituality cannot be separated from the natural world around us.

As people of faith, we are called to be faithful stewards of God’s good earth, and we are privileged to have a leading environmental scientist to help us think about that calling in new ways. I am very excited that on Monday, April 7, at 7:00 pm in the Sanctuary, we will welcome Michael Mann as our Community Forum speaker. Dr. Mann is Professor and Director of the Center for Science, Sustainability, and Media at the University of Pennsylvania. Not only is he a local expert on the challenges of environmental science and climate change, but he is also a leading international voice whose work offers practical wisdom on how to care for the natural world around us.

Dr. Mann’s message carries a proactive urgency that I hope will draw many of us to this timely Community Forum. Join with your church family and friends from the wider community to welcome his scientific expertise on this critical topic. Our environmental stewardship resonates deeply with our biblical understanding of God’s good purposes for all creation. Our care of the good earth, after all, begins in awe and wonder.

Today, on the eve of Valentine’s Day, I am thinking about love. One of the hazards of professional ministry, I suppose, is that we pastors and preachers spend a lot of time pondering the origins of stories— Biblical, historical, and personal stories. Where did this account come from, and why do we commemorate it quite like we do? Tomorrow, many of us will exchange cards, chocolate, and flowers with those we love, and there’s nothing wrong with that! However, we’ve come a long way from the reason for the original Feast Day of Saint Valentine.

Valentine was a third-century Roman clergyman, likely a priest or bishop, who ministered among Christians persecuted by the Roman empire. For his good work and charity, he was executed on February 14 in the year 269 and buried in Umbria in what is now central Italy. The association of Valentine with romantic love is largely due to the 14th-century work of English writer Geoffrey Chaucer. Over time, he became the patron saint of love, people with epilepsy, and beekeepers. His name, Valentine, was popular in late antiquity and is derived from the Latin word, valens, which means worthy, strong, and powerful.

There are countless reasons to celebrate romantic love, no doubt, but as people of faith at this moment in time, I hope we will also remember the sacrificial, charitable love of the original Saint Valentine and his association with worthy, strong, and powerful love. In a time of trouble, he sought to share the love of Christ among those who were suffering.

Kate Bowler, professor at Duke Divinity School and author, has written a blessing that resonates with the call to faith, which expands our notion of love beyond feelings of deep affection to faithful action:

Lord, the shadowed world is full of troubles.

So give me the good, inconvenient work of love.

Link my life to others so that their worries become my own.

Give me errands I don’t want which ease the burdens of others.

Divert me from the plans I’ve made

to zip from A to B when you have better ideas.

Put my hands to work with a less-grumbling heart

and let their dreams drift into my own.

You’ve given me tools to use and ideas to fashion

that will bring me neither recognition, nor money, nor praise.

You’ve made love such a sneaky thing.

The more we love as you do,

the less we are keeping track of it at all.

While we celebrate the lovely exchanges that have become our Valentine’s Day traditions, let’s also be mindful of the ways Christ calls us to worthy, strong, and powerful love evident in the inconvenient works of love that ease the burdens of others.

Jessica Grose describes herself as a “secular, mildly observant Jew” who covers issues of religion, family, education, and culture as an opinion writer for the New York Times. Despite her almost apologetic religious self-description, her journalistic reporting of American religious life is significant. Anyone who loves the church should know she’s a writer with her finger on the pulse of changing religious trends.

Yesterday, under the banner of “Even Religious People Don’t Trust Religious Institutions,” she wrote about how when their leaders act inappropriately, or even criminally, both secular and religious sometimes try to uphold their public image rather than protecting or seeking justice for those who are harmed. The result is prevailing cynicism about all institutions in American life, particularly among young people. We should take this cynicism seriously, she writes, because it is “contributing to a more disconnected, careless and cruel society.”

More than 500 years ago, the leaders of the Protestant Reformation began to establish a church polity to guard against institutional corruption. Recognizing that individuals are sinful and often guided by self-interest, the Reformers established a form of government in which lay leaders are elected to govern local churches and represent them at regional and denominational governing bodies. In the Presbyterian Church (USA) Ruling Elders have the same authority as Teaching Elders (clergy) in exercising leadership over church governance and spiritual discernment for the whole church.

Our routine Congregational Meetings to elect church officers may seem like simple routine business on the surface. However, what these meetings represent is holding the church accountable to the kind of institutional norms missing in much of our society these days. This is part of our answer to a pervasive cynicism in our culture. Elders are elected to oversee the worship and work of the church with the same authority as pastors in church governance. Deacons are elected as emissaries of compassion to reach out and care for our members and neighbors in need. Trustees are elected to manage the church’s property and finances.

Finally, members of the Nominating Committee are charged with soliciting nominees for next year’s election and assuring they are active members who contribute time, talent, and treasure to the work of the church. There is no set amount of giving that counts as “treasure,” just a demonstrated financial commitment to stewardship. Our elected leaders must also have criminal background checks and undergo training for our Child and Youth Protection and Anti-Harassment Policies.

Our elections at Congregational Meetings, you see, are anything but routine. Our form of church government is a battle against cynicism, the assurance that we hold one another accountable and that we engage our increasingly “disconnected, careless, and cruel society” by electing leaders committed to further the justice, righteousness, peace, mercy, and love of God in the community and world.

I look forward to seeing you in worship and at the Congregational Meeting on Sunday. .

I’ve had more than a few people tell me that Advent has flown by fast, and they can hardly believe it’s almost Christmas. It is true that this year the calendar gave us the shortest Advent season possible, but it always feels a bit rushed in this last week before Christmas, doesn’t it?

Company’s coming, there’s baking to do, gifts to purchase and wrap, the house to decorate, and all the rest can add up to a frenetic feeling. At the church, we’ve been proofreading and printing a seemingly countless number of bulletins for multiple services. Deacons are delivering poinsettias, and the Care Team is following up on urgent pastoral concerns. The musicians and pastors are making special preparations, and behind-the-scenes volunteers are beautifying, baking, and serving alongside many mission partners.

When this joyful season begins to feel more full than joyous, and I feel the need to stop and breathe deeply and find some respite from the hasty preparations, I turn to this favorite Gaelic Blessing.

Deep peace of the running wave to you.

Deep peace of the flowing air to you.

Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.

Deep peace of the shining stars to you.

Deep peace of the gentle night to you.

Moon and stars pour their healing light on you.

Deep peace of Christ the light of the world to you.

Deep peace of Christ to you.

These words, their rhythmic repetition, and their lovely images from the natural beauty of God’s creation, have the power to center and refocus me on what matters most as we prepare for the rebirth of Christ in our hearts. When the outer world seems to spin in far too much chaos, violence and fear, this Gaelic Blessing reminds me to heed the invitation from the Letter to the Colossians to “let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts.”

In her introduction to poet David Whyte’s book entitled Consolations, author Maria Popova says, “Words possess us more than we possess them. They feed on us more than we feed on them.” In this culminating countdown to Christmas, may we be possessed by formative words of deep peace, which seems a fitting way to welcome anew the Word made flesh, whom we have come to call the Prince of Peace.