Category: Pastors’ Column

This past Monday, I watched the evening news and the fact that April 22 was Earth Day came to the fore in the last thirty seconds of the broadcast, almost an afterthought. The Supreme Court was taking up a state law cracking down on the homeless, the trial of the former President began in Manhattan, there was some big basketball news as I remember it, and major university campuses were in an uproar of protests, the likes of which the nation hasn’t seen since the Viet Nam War. Earth Day? There wasn’t much room amid the national and international coverage for Earth Day 2024.

However, the news from our delegation to Peru this week has been quite startling. Rebecca Kirkpatrick sent this photo and wrote to those who are subscribed to her mission trip reports:

After worship, they took us close by to see the impacts of dumping and pollution on the Chillón River. It is hard to describe how polluted the river is. A local factory had been dumping its waste directly into the river, and it is not unusual for folks all over the community to dump their trash directly into the river as it passes through the community. The activists from the church who took us along the river told us stories of their childhood when the river was clean enough to drink from. Some even recalled being baptized in that very river. Along the coast, it leads directly to the Pacific. As we walked along the river and eventually to the beach, we were overwhelmed by the pollution. Jed shared when we got there that it is considered the most contaminated beach in all of Latin America. It is hard to convey how much trash is on the beach, and photos don’t really capture it.

While we may seem far removed from that riverside in Peru, evidence is growing that microplastics are invading human organs and our bloodstream. We’re not so removed after all.

In this season of Eastertide, which we are observing in worship each week, the images John’s gospel uses to describe the presence of resurrection are from nature. The fields of God’s sheepfold last Sunday and Jesus’ lovely image, “I am the Vine, you are the branches,” upcoming. Martin Luther, the great 16th-century reformer and theologian, said of Easter, “Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.” We cannot separate the most basic promises of our faith from the natural world, from the glory and intended goodness of God’s creation.

Look at this picture from our church’s mission partner in Peru and join me in imagining that every day is Earth Day. Let’s make even deeper commitments to reduce our use of plastics and disposable waste. Together, let’s admit our complicity in polluting the earth. Together, let’s remember we cannot separate our faith from our practice, our mission from our mission partners in places like Peru. Together, let’s live more fully into our vocation as caretakers of God’s good earth.

Twenty-four years ago, I was in the midst of post-recording production with the recording engineer who recorded the Sanctuary Choir’s Christmas CD, “Welcome Yule.” Producing a CD is an immense amount of work. Each piece is recorded 3-5 times. One CD can easily take four long evenings to record. The production process takes even longer. About halfway through the editing, our producer, George Blood, asked me, “Jeff, what do you think the five greatest choral works are?” I quickly responded with, “J.S. Bach’s “Mass in B-minor,” Mozart’s “Requiem,” Mendelssohn’s “Elijah,” Beethoven’s “Missa Solemnis,” and Brahms’ “Requiem.” Over my long career, I have had the privilege of conducting all these works, in some cases, several times. Of all these works, Brahms’ “Requiem” holds the most special place in my heart. I am thrilled to be able to conduct this masterpiece on Sunday, April 28, at 4:00 p.m. with our sublime Sanctuary Choir.

For those of you who are familiar with the piece, you may know that it was originally conceived for a full orchestra and large chorus. However, what you might not know is that Brahms himself arranged the original orchestral accompaniment for a piano duet: four hands on one piano. This more intimate version, arranged in 1869, with the wonderful writing for two pianists supporting the voices, is deeply moving. Brahms was no stranger to writing for two pianists; his Liebeslieder Waltzes, composed for two pianists and choir, are among the finest works ever composed. For our performance on April 28, we will use two pianos, all the better to support our wonderful choir.

It appears to be generally agreed among scholars that by early 1865, Brahms had already formed a clear concept and structure of the Requiem, including the choice of texts and early drafts of the music. He wrote the finished form of the greater part of the work, five movements, during 1865 and the first half of 1866. After revisions and more work over the next 18 months, he conducted the first public performance in Bremen Cathedral on Good Friday of 1868 in a version with six movements. During the following year, he wrote a seventh movement, no. 5, and the first public performances of the Requiem in its final form with seven movements were given in Cologne on 16 February 1869 and in Leipzig two days later. It was well received and gained early popularity, though more so in Protestant northern Germany, England, and the United States than in Catholic countries such as France and Italy.

Brahms was brought up in the Protestant tradition of the German theologian and church reformer Martin Luther, and in his title for the work, Ein deutsches Requiem, he is saying two things: this work is not a setting of the liturgical Requiem Mass of the Roman Catholic Church, and its text is not in the Latin of the Roman liturgy, but in the German of his native tongue. Brahms wrote to his publisher that his Requiem “cannot be sung in place of a Requiem Mass in church,” and it was thus primarily for the concert platform. Scholars believe that Brahms may have been agnostic in his religious beliefs.

Nevertheless, Brahms’ choice of texts, from the Old and New Testaments and the Apocrypha in Luther’s translation, are a meditation on the rest, peace, and comfort that can be found in the Christian scriptures when contemplating the inevitable circumstance of death. They make no mention, as in the Catholic Mass, of the day of wrath and of final judgment, and they have no prayer to Christ for the rescue of the faithful from the pains of hell. They speak rather of comfort for those who mourn and of the transitory nature of this life, expressing a firm belief in life after death and the blessed state of those who ‘die in the Lord,’ a belief that after the trials and troubles of this mortal life, there comes a life of peace and joy where ‘sorrow and sighing shall flee away.’

Except for the short fourth and seventh movements, Brahms chose verses for the text of each movement from different books of the Bible and, despite this variety of sources, combined them to complement each other in their message and to set out his own vision and understanding of his Requiem. However, the varied musical color and structure of both the work as a whole and as reflected in each movement deepen and enhance the meaning of the text. As Brahms understood so clearly, music adds its own deeper dimension and fullness to the meaning of words.

We are thrilled that baritone Nicholas Provenzale and soprano Kara Goodrich will be the soloists for this performance. Those of you who attended our Good Friday Bonhoeffer production know how magnificent a singer Nicholas is. Kara, who grew up in BMPC (her mother was a staff singer in the Sanctuary Choir), is now beginning a career as a professional singer. Her role as Mimi in “La Boheme” with Opera Philadelphia last spring brought rave reviews. Accompanying them will be pianists Susan Rogel Ricci and Laura Ward, who will be at the two concert grand pianos.

A free-will offering will be received to benefit the Homeless Advocacy Project, a non-profit organization that provides legal assistance to Philadelphia’s large homeless population. https://www.haplegal.org/

We look forward to bringing this spectacular work into your life on April 28 at 4:00 p.m.

In just a week, five of us from BMPC will travel to Lima, Peru, to spend a week with our long-term partner, Joining Hands Peru.

We have been connected to the work of Joining Hands Peru, especially through our support of Presbyterian World Mission and our Mission Co-Workers there, Jed and Jenny Koball, for over ten years. But this year represents the start of a deepening commitment on our part to the Joining Hands global network, which describes their work as standing in solidarity, working for justice and the restoration of the Earth, and advocating for the rights of people to claim the life abundant promised by God.

A main component of this deeper partnership means intentional visits and time spent together in Peru (and eventually Bryn Mawr). This is how Joining Hands Peru describes the context in which they live and work:

Due to its vast territory and gold and silver production, Peru was historically considered one of Spain’s most important colonies. Declaring its independence from Spain in 1821, Peru continued to exploit the resources of the land for its own economic growth and development.

Today, the Andes continue to have great mining potential, and the Amazon basin has rich oil deposits. Increased exploitation of such resources, known as extractive activity, has led to major economic growth in recent decades, yet the gap between rich and poor in Peru is one of the highest in the Americas. Among the most impoverished peoples are indigenous populations whose livelihoods and way of life are gravely impacted by contamination of air, land, and water. Furthermore, Peru is one of the most vulnerable countries in the world to climate change.

I have had a few people ask me what “work” we will be doing when we are in Peru. The truth is that the work we are called to do in a modern mission partnership is the work to build relationships with one another. Gone are the days of us traveling around the world to offer our manual labor to others. Instead, we are traveling there to offer them one of the most valuable resources we have as a church – our focus and attention.

Over a week, we will travel and visit five different communities surrounding Lima, where local leaders are leading the work to recover their natural resources, change the industrial and commercial practices impacting their homes, and attempt to reverse the devastating health impacts experienced by the people in their community, especially their children. We will hear their stories, encourage them in their work, and consider ways we can influence some of the international forces at play as a congregation.

But mostly, we will illustrate to them that there is a group of faithful people who live thousands of miles away, who are paying attention to their work, praying for their success and health, and personally investing in their future. That is a precious thing.

I hope that you will keep the five of us in your prayers in the days to come, but more importantly, you will keep the people of Joining Hands Peru in your prayers at this moment and beyond. If you want to learn more about their work, you can check it out here: https://www.presbyterianmission.org/ministries/compassion-peace-justice/hunger/internationaldevelopment/joininghands/joining-hands-country-profiles/peru-jh/.

It was a joy to attend and participate in Easter services at Bryn Mawr this past Sunday. The outdoor early morning service had a totally different feel than the services in the sanctuary. Did you see the cross in the churchyard covered in flowers? Did the glorious ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ and Easter hymns ring in your mind for a while? But now, Easter Day is over. However, I hope the ramifications of it are not!

We live in a world where many storytellers don’t include the concept of resurrection in how they define life and death. Some of their stories assert that death ends life in hopeless finality and futility. Some of these stories are even filled with cynicism and disparagement of a life of faith and service.

As I think about what it must have been like for Jesus’ disciples soon after his death, I imagine they were ready to believe just that kind of storyteller. After all, the natural order of things certainly indicated that when someone gets killed, that person stays dead. The non-Easter storyteller told them that violence and death were the strongest powers, and nothing could change that, so they might as well accept it. They must have also felt that their dreams, their hopes, and their future were all dead because Jesus was dead. That had to be an extremely painful loss, which would make it unlikely that they would be ready to embrace the vulnerability of new hope anytime soon.

But the events of Easter beckoned them and us to listen to a different storyteller. Death would no longer define life, but rather, life could now define death. We are not called to follow a dead hero but a living Lord. Yes, things currently may look like they did prior to this past Sunday, but Jesus is risen, and we can dare to see new possibilities for transformation. We reach what we think is the tragic end of a defining story, but Jesus is risen, which opens the way to amazing new beginnings. There may appear to be no way to move forward, but Jesus is risen, and we are empowered to believe that God can make a way out of no way. Yes, the ways of death and despair seem to be most powerful in our world, but Jesus has risen, which points us toward the idea that life, peace, and hope can blossom.

Let’s dare to listen to and allow ourselves to be shaped by the resurrection storytellers, and we’ll discover a Lord who brings everlasting life, love, joy, and meaning to our hearts and our world. We, as part of humanity, do so much to discount the amazing story of God’s life-giving power, but Jesus is risen! With a resurrection story that redefines us and our world, the impact of Easter is far from being over! Alleluia!

Sometime in the latter half of the 3rd Century, the Christian church began to observe Holy Week. The gospels describe in considerable detail the final days of Jesus’ life as the intense scrutiny around him heightens to a fevered pitch. Those early church Holy Week observances were dedicated to reading the gospel narratives of Jesus’ betrayal, trial, crucifixion, death, and burial. Participants went to worship in sorrow, penance and fasting, and to linger at the foot of the cross, mindful of the suffering love of God revealed through the person Jesus. By experiencing the full depths of Jesus’ passion, the joy of Easter morning led believers to ecstatic praise.

This evening, you have opportunities to join us for Maundy Thursday communion and tomorrow’s noon and evening Good Friday worship. I encourage you to join in these rituals of discipleship that have formed the church’s Holy Week practice for more than two thousand years.

While biblical scholars and historians have debated aspects of the life of Jesus and of the early church, one thing they agree on is that a Christian is, by definition, someone who believed that the God of ancient Israel raised Jesus from the dead. The pagan world at that time thought this was ridiculous. What is dead stays dead, they postured, but the Christian communion believed something extraordinary, something unnatural, had happened. As the Apostle Paul said, without the resurrection, we really have nothing interesting to say. (1 Cor. 15:14).

Come Sunday, we will celebrate the resurrection in our customary ways at Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church, at sunrise and in the sanctuary, with the beauty of flowers and extraordinary music, with a full congregation of believers and skeptics, with great joy. I have come to believe that the joy is heightened for those who show up on Thursday and Friday and are willing to ponder the depths of God’s love for the sake of the world.

Join us for these last few days of Holy Week and Easter’s glorious proclamation and praise!

In January 2023, my neighbor, Rachelle Fleming, texted me, inviting me to her home to meet Hugh McElyea, a composer friend. Knowing Rachelle, I knew that we would have a lovely time, but I wasn’t expecting to encounter a composer who was absolutely fascinated by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. What ensued was a wonderful evening of three musicians engaging in all manner of conversation about all sorts of topics, including that of an oratorio that draws parallels between the crucifixion of Christ and Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s death at the hands of the Nazis. By evening’s end, I knew that BMPC would have to perform Hugh’s “Tenebrae: The Passion of Dietrich Bonhoeffer.”

Who is Dietrich Bonhoeffer?

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a German pastor and theologian who spoke out against the Nazi regime on the day Adolf Hitler came to power. His ties to the July 20, 1944, conspiracy to overthrow the Nazi regime led to his execution in 1945. His theological writings are regarded as classics throughout the Christian world.

What is Tenebrae?

“Tenebrae” means “Darkness.” In the early church, monks gathered on the eve of Good Friday to remember Jesus’s last days. This became a traditional 4th-century monastic service called “Tenebrae,” meaning “darkness.” During the service, thirteen candles are extinguished one by one as the gospel account of Jesus’s Passion is accompanied by Gregorian Chants. The church is left in total darkness as the service ends.

Who was Maria von Wedemeyer?

A few days before his arrest, Dietrich was engaged to Maria von Wedemeyer, a young woman he had taught as a student. He befriended several prison guards who smuggled letters to his family and fiancée, even arranging brief face-to-face meetings. Through his poems and letters, we gain a deeply personal glimpse into the life of the man. In this presentation, the mezzo-soprano also portrays Mary Magdalene.

While setting the ancient service of Tenebrae in wartime Berlin, the music reflects the tragedy of war and the sacrifice of one man who stood up and spoke truth to power. Having made the ultimate sacrifice, Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s martyrdom remains a source of inspiration and a warning in our own time.

As the Allied bombing of Berlin neared, Bonhoeffer realized that he might not survive and opened his Bible to read the Passion of Jesus for the last time. He was taken from Tegel Prison to the Buchenwald concentration camp and later transferred to the Flossenburg prison, where he was tried for treason and hanged on April 9, 1945, just days before the end of World War II. In the end, his final words to a fellow prisoner were, “For me, this is the end, but also the beginning. It is certain that our joy is hidden in our suffering and our life in death.”

“Tenebrae: The Passion of Dietrich Bonhoeffer” will take place on Friday, March 29, at 7:30 p.m. in the sanctuary. The production features Nicholas Provenzale as Bonhoeffer, Rachelle Fleming playing the dual roles of Maria von Wedemeyer and Mary Magdalene, and WRTI host Michael Bolton as the narrator. The Bryn Mawr Chamber Singers and a chamber orchestra round out the cast. You are invited to a pre-performance talk at 6:30 p.m. in the Fullerton room with the composer, Hugh McElyea, and Rev. Rob Schenck, the founder and president of “The Dietrich Bonhoeffer Institute.” The performance will be live-streamed.

In his celebrated work, Moral Man and Immoral Society, the 20th-century theologian and political philosopher Reinhold Niebuhr wrote, “Religion is always a citadel of hope, which is built on the edge of despair.” It came to mind a couple of weekends ago when I went to see Dune: Part Two on opening weekend.

The film, an adaptation of Frank Herbert’s science fiction magnum opus of the same name, tells the story of a young aristocrat, Paul Atreides, whose father, Leto, has been given as a fiefdom the inhospitable desert planet Arrakis. There on its sandy surface is the spice melange, harvested like oil to power travel across the known universe. Its indigenous people survive the harsh conditions of the planet with a deep reverence for water and the massive worms that move through the sand like sharks in open water.

Paul’s mother belongs to a secretive group that plays universe-wide politics from the shadows. They have been at work on Arrakis for years, preparing the native population through a prophetic promise to expect a messiah that would come to save them. When Paul arrives, many see him as the fulfillment of the prophecy.

I won’t give away the ending, but suffice it to say that Paul decides to play the part. The story continues in subsequent novels, and Paul’s followers unleash their radical devotion in horrific ways across galaxies. Herbert’s message is clear: be careful following messiahs who promise to save you.

There are many messiahs who call for our allegiance. Even those of us who follow Jesus Christ are tempted by the voices of those in religion, politics, economics, and the like who entice us with their cry as the vehicle for salvation. But as a recent primer on Christian ethics notes, “The Bible assumes that all persons are moral agents.” Created in God’s image and recipients of God’s grace in Christ, we are all endowed participants in the restoring acts of God in creation. We have already been found by the Messiah, and our job now is to live like it.

I’m grateful for that on days when the world seems to spin with all its madness, wondering if we aren’t all just one step away from being swallowed by a giant sandworm. Together, we caution one another and quell our excesses. We temper our extremes and moderate our self-righteousness. We share in each other’s joys and bear each other’s burdens. We make of our inhospitable culture of individualism a new kind of community we call the church; a citadel of hope built on the edge of despair.

“Little Things with Great Love” is a song by Porter’s Gate—a group of musicians, pastors, and theologians who meet and write faithful, biblical, and beautiful worship music. This song is one of my favorites. I invite you to watch the video and/or read the lyrics, listening for the Spirit’s stirrings within you.

In the garden of our Savior, no flower grows unseen;

His kindness rains like water on every humble seed.

No simple act of mercy escapes His watchful eye —

for there is One who loves me: His hand is over mine.

In the kingdom of the heavens, no suff’ring is unknown;

each tear that falls is holy, each breaking heart a throne.

There is a song of beauty on ev’ry weeping eye —

for there is One who loves me: His heart, it breaks with mine.

Oh, the deeds forgotten; oh, the works unseen,

every drink of water flowing graciously,

every tender mercy, You’re making glorious.

This You have asked us: do little things with great love,

little things with great love.

At the table of our Savior, no mouth will go unfed;

His children in the shadows stream in and raise their heads.

Oh give us ears to hear them and give us eyes that see —

for there is One who loves them: I am His hands and feet.

I love this piece, the simplicity of guitar and vocals to begin, the slow addition of street sounds and strings, the softness at the lyric, “little things with great love,” and the final build-up in the last stanza with all the strings and guitar. The line “His heart, it breaks with mine” reminds me of the story of Jesus weeping with Mary and Martha after the death of their brother, Lazarus. I particularly love the last stanza, where we are reminded that at the Table of Jesus, all are fed, that God’s children who dwell in shadow are invited to that Table, “for there is one who loves them,” we are “his hands and feet.”

Sometimes, I think of music and art as something separate, something that doesn’t necessarily connect me to God or my faith life. But worship music like this, worship like the hymns we sing on Sundays, art like we see in the gallery, poetry that we read together and alone, recall me to the worship of our just and loving God. Art, I’ve learned, is a vehicle that brings us closer to ourselves, one another, and God.

This coming weekend, we’re taking a group of our youth to Johnsonburg Camp and Retreat Center for their annual all-youth retreat. This year, we’ll be led by Lady Z, the founder and director of Poets for Justice. When I think of poets for justice, I think of songs like “Little Things with Great Love” or the poetry of Langston Hughes, Maya Angelou, Wendell Berry, Mary Oliver, and more, poetry that inspires me to participate in God’s just and loving action in the world. I can’t wait to see what our youth learn from Lady Z about responding to injustice through creativity and art.

As our youth learn this weekend what it means to seek and experience justice through poetry, I invite you to encounter God through art in some small way this week. Seek out the God who calls for “justice to roll down like rivers” (Amos 5:24), taught in stories and parables, and knew the poetry of the psalms by heart, and who daily calls us to lives of holiness, justice, and peace.

On Monday, March 4, at 7:00 pm in the Sanctuary, we will host Matthew Desmond as our Community Forum Speaker.

Matthew Desmond, Professor of Sociology at Princeton University, is one of the leading voices in our country on issues of poverty in America, city life, housing insecurity, public policy, and racial inequality. His range of expertise is precisely the kind of subject matter for which these forums are intended to address.

Desmond promises to be a compelling and engaging speaker. His book Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for nonfiction, and he is the recipient of the MacArthur Genius Fellowship and the American Bar Association’s Silver Gavel Award.

His Monday evening lecture will be based on research and insight from his most recent book, Poverty, By America, which many of our congregation, including the Outreach Committee, have read as we seek better to understand the issues BMPC seeks to address through our witness and mission. Desmond writes that we are “the richest country on earth, with more poverty than any other advanced democracy.” His book is praised for describing the complex realities of poverty and giving practical ways that individuals and institutions can address it and alleviate it.

One of the strong convictions that emerged from our church-wide discernment process that created the 150th Vision was the call to “Partner in local mission (Lower Merion Township and Montgomery County) by enlisting volunteers to help address affordable housing and access to resources, services, and support.” Because recognizing issues of poverty and finding ways to address them as a congregation has become a priority, Desmond’s presentation is both timely and urgent. I hope many of our congregation and community will attend.

Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church is blessed to have a fund that enables us to host free public forums “to explore issues of significance for the vitality and well-being of the larger community.” The Community Forum was established by a gift from Herbert Middleton, Jr., in honor of his parents, Anna and Herbert Middleton, Sr. This living legacy is a blessing to our congregation and community. I hope you will join us on Monday night to hear Matthew Desmond, whose work and research critically informs our call to discipleship.

n anticipation of Lisa Hancock’s “Natural Mothers” photo exhibit that will be on display in BMPC’s Gallery beginning on March 3, I felt it might be nice to explain how this particular exhibit came together, as it has an incredibly personal connection to my work as a church musician and the path my husband and I took to fatherhood.

I attended the St. Thomas Choir School in New York City as a young boy. Daily rehearsals and services were a major part of my life, as well as rigorous academics, instrumental lessons, and living in one of the most wonderful cities in the world. Gerre Hancock was the Director of Music at St. Thomas Church and a household name in the world of church music and organ improvisation. His wife, Judith Hancock, was the Associate Director of Music and an equally fabulous organist and musician in her own right. These wonderful people helped me find my path and calling to become a church musician. I kept in touch with the Hancocks after my years at the Choir School. After Gerre died in 2012, I forged an even closer and special relationship with Judy as she maintained an interest in my growing repertoire, church work, and personal life.

I knew the Hancocks had two wonderful daughters, Lisa and Debbie. Still, I never connected with them until this past year when they helped arrange for me to visit their mom in a memory care facility in Connecticut, where she now resides. Seeing someone who was such a force and inspiration to me struggling with Alzheimer’s is tragic, but her bright eyes, warm smile, and memories of me as a young boy were a special part of our visit this past April. Since then, I’ve kept in touch with Lisa and feel so pleased to have found a way to support and showcase her stunning photography in BMPC’s Gallery.

“Natural Mothers” is particularly poignant in my home life as the birth mother of my adopted children recently passed away in a tragic house fire. Their mother was the one person who was not actively involved in our open adoption and blended family, but she is the person who brought the twins into this world and, therefore, someone we talk about regularly. The world of foster care is messy, and while there are situations that turn out beautifully, they are not without heartbreak for others involved (so often the birth parents). Seeing these foster care moments caught in still photography is a wonderful way to pause and think about the good things in your life you take for granted and situations you will never find yourself in.

Lisa Hancock will be in the Gallery before and after the 10 a.m. worship service on March 3 to meet anyone who passes through the exhibit.

Photo with Judy Hancock (age 88) in April of 2023. One of the many mothers in my life.