BMPC Pastor's Column

As an introvert, I have always loved this time of year. I love autumn, with its bold, then fading colors and increasingly chilly evenings. I love the unique shades of blue the sky takes on in autumn. I love the warmth of community at Thanksgiving. And with each day growing shorter and the darkness longer, this introvert is even more inspired to find creativity and renewal in the solitude and personal reflection that come with these long nights and darkened days.

I love how music reflects the seasons. The music of harvest. The music of Thanksgiving. The music of Advent. Advent has a sound unlike any other season, filled as it is with minor-key music (“O Come, O Come Emmanuel”) and its language, filled with longing, hope, expectation, and wonder. For an introvert, all this inward-looking and longing feels like a deep balm. With the arrival of Christ comes our endless cries of Gloria in excelsis. The world explodes in joy, and all seems well.

In this holiest and most beloved of seasons, it is music that signals the arrival of something different and something profoundly holy. It includes music that fills us with joy and hope. It includes music that salves the brokenhearted and the ill with messages of goodwill, empathy, and love.

In the coming days, you will experience the full scope of this season. Its darkening days and minor keys. Its balm. Its joy. December 14th’s concert, “Prologue to Epilogue,” will trace the entire story of the season with anthems and carols. Singers, brass, organ, bells, and your voices will combine to remind us of our unique Christian heritage and our ever-hopeful nature. The “Longest Night Service” on Wednesday, December 17, will provide balm and solace in the magnificence of our candlelit church, familiar music, soaring solos, and prophetic preaching.

On December 24, the darkness of Advent turns to abundant joy with three incredible Christmas Eve services. The 4:30 p.m. Family Service (the largest service attended of the year) is an explosion of youthful energy and excitement as a cast of 100 children tell and sing the story. With the Bryn Mawr Brass, our staff of organists, our wonderful Choristers, and your voices, the walls of the church will soar with joy. At 8:30 p.m., we will gather around the table to hear the Christmas story said, sung, and preached, and celebrate the birth of our Savior. At 11:00 p.m., the much-beloved choir-led Christmas Lessons and Carols will return. Led by our renowned Sanctuary Choir and a cast of lay readers, the glorious story will be retold through scripture and song. From Adam to Mary to the Shepherds and the Wise Men, no characters will be excluded!

Where Advent music whispers promise, Christmas music proclaims fulfillment. Singing together, be it “Silent Night” or “Joy to the World,” or listening to the choir soar in its harmony, is a communal act that transforms us, individuals, into one people — one breath, one voice, one hope. Such is the power of music. Such is the power of community. Such is the power of this church. Such is the power of Christ.

It is a little surreal to sit in the Education Building and count angel wings. Going through the stack (yes, we have a stack of angel wings!), we were testing to see if they’re still in good repair, checking to see if we need to make a few more, and generally fluffing the feathers. Sitting in a box, they look a little silly, but in just a few weeks’ time, they will be transformed. As a pastor who has the privilege of working with children, my December is filled with the Christmas story. Every Sunday and most weekdays, the story is rehashed in incredible detail: Magi gifts are dusted off, Advent candles are lit, nativities of every size and shape are taken apart and put back together, and the stack of Christmas storybooks just seems to grow! A friend asked me if it ever gets boring, if the story ever grows old.

I had to think for a moment about the question. Does it get boring? Is the story growing stale? It didn’t take me long to answer. The story can’t grow old, because each year I have the privilege of seeing it through new eyes and hearing it told in new voices. Practicing in the Sanctuary with our scripture readers, I hear a new cadence or a new emphasis on words that I have memorized, and the scripture is alive again. Sitting with students, new questions are posed, and I have to look at the story in a new way. Watching our angels as they turn and shake their wings, I see the heavenly host descending again, bringing good news to all people.

I hope each of you finds opportunities to see, hear, and experience the story of God’s love poured out in Jesus Christ. It might be at the Live Nativity this Sunday as Mary and Joseph maneuver through the sheep and goats. It might be in the fellowship of singing together at Carols and Cocoa, it could be in the gift of joy at the Youth Reindeer Games, in the beauty of the choir singing at the Christmas Concert, or in the quiet of the Longest Night Service. It may also be found in a simple prayer, the lights shining through the night, or returning to that old story again and listening for God’s new word today.

Dear God, source of all things, seen and unseen, your people are gathering to celebrate and give thanks.

Some of us are gathering with family, and so we give thanks for parents, grandparents, children, grandchildren, aunts, uncles, siblings, and cousins. We give you thanks for our familial bonds, and for the way we learn to see and love ourselves in the love we find among family. Comfort those among us for whom time with family is painful. Heal the wounds of estrangement and empower processes of reconciliation through forgiveness and repentance.

Some of us are gathering with friends, and so we give thanks for the family we choose. We give you thanks for those bonds in which we are free to be ourselves and to keep only the best parts of the traditions. Strengthen the bonds of community among friends.

Some of us are not gathering with anyone. We give you thanks that you are found chiefly among the widow and widower, the friendless, the outcast, and the lonely. Empower us to enfold all your people. Enrich our communities through the reintegration of those who have been cast out.

Some of us are gathering but find little to celebrate. We are mindful of the complicated origins of this holiday – empower us in our convictions to find reasons for gratitude. We are mindful of those who celebrate without loved ones who have died or who have been disappeared – empower us in our grief and heartbrokenness to heal your world. We are mindful of retail, service, travel, and hospitality workers working on the holiday – empower us in our solidarity to be kind… and to leave big tips!

We ask you, the one who became incarnate in the midst of all these things, to give us a spirit of gratitude and thanksgiving. Amen.

Many, many thanks to you, BMPC, for all the ways that you have so warmly welcomed me into the life and ministry of this congregation. Since arriving on October 5, it has been an absolute delight to meet so many of you at worship on Sunday mornings as well as other spaces in the life of the church. I am grateful for every interaction and connection made so far. Thank you.

In addition to the joy of getting to know you, I feel I have stepped into life at BMPC at a very rich time. Even though we are in the midst of some transition (which always means the Holy Spirit is breathing new life among us), the church is in a strong position in many ways. And while we do not yet know what the future holds, we trust in God to see us through.

As we are reminded in Isaiah 41 and 43
​​”Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand…

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?”

Personally, I feel excited and energized about this new chapter of ministry, not only for myself, as your new Associate Pastor for Congregational Care, but for what God through the Holy Spirit will yet do in our midst as all of us work together toward God’s promised new day. In this season of gratitude for which we have so much to be thankful, I give thanks that God saw fit to call me here, in this time and place, to live and serve among you. Thanks be to God.

Our annual Theologian in Residence program, created in honor of David and Ruth Watermulder, is always a highlight of BMPC’s Adult Education programs. Over the past ten years, we have welcomed a wide range of remarkable scholars, and when one looks at the full list of every scholar who has been a part of this endowed lecture series since its inception, it is packed with some of the most influential thinkers, writers, and preachers of this generation. But, I think I can say with confidence and joy that our upcoming weekend with the Rev. Dr. Anna Carter Florence, Professor of Preaching at Columbia Theological Seminary, is going to be the most fun.

Anna brings a quality of imagination and creativity to her teaching and preaching that is both deeply faithful to the spirit of the Bible, while also breaking open new and innovative ways for us to step into and experience the story of scripture.

In her book Rehearsing Scripture: Discovering God’s Word in Community, she describes the wildness of reading the Bible together:

The biblical text is a wild thing, and it takes us to where the wild things are. When we read scripture and community, we have no idea what will happen or where it will take us, except that wherever it is won’t look like anything we know – it is the wild and free vision of God’s reign, breaking its way in. It is the mother of all waves, carrying us over the known horizon. Maurice Sendak may not have realized he was writing the perfect description of our biblical interpretive task when he wrote his classic children’s book, Where the Wild Things Are, but he was. Maybe, every time we open our Bibles, we should open our mouths too with a collective roar: “Let the wild rumpus start!”

I hope that you will join us for what might not be a wild weekend of exploring scripture together in community, but what will surely be a weekend of thoughtful and creative interpretations of scripture, joy found in community with one another, and surely a hopeful message of the ways that God’s word still speaks to us today.

Here is the full schedule for the weekend – we hope you see you there!

LIGHT BRUNCH
Saturday, November 8, 9:30 a.m.
Congregational Hall, Ministries Center

LECTURE ONE: ANOTHER LOOK AT SOME (NOTORIOUS) WOMEN:
VASHTI, TAMAR, AND LOT’S WIFE
Saturday, November 8, 10:00 a.m.
Congregational Hall, Ministries Center

PREACHING
Sunday, November 9, 8:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m.
Chapel and Sanctuary

LECTURE TWO: ANOTHER LOOK AT JESUS:GROWING UP, TELLING STORIES, AND WALKING ON WATER
Sunday, November 9, 11:15 a.m.
Congregational Hall, Ministries Center

 

 

 

What is your ideal image of Heaven? A place of beauty, grandeur, or calm? A space free of suffering, pain, strife, and division? An opportunity to see those we love who have entered the Church Triumphant before us? Can we even imagine what a glimpse of Heaven looks like here on Earth? Not knowing can be incredibly challenging, but equally beautiful. 

Though we might all imagine the place and space differently, I am convinced we all embrace the opportunity to see those we have loved and lost. Whether seven days, weeks, months, years, or decades have passed, those who have gone before us occupy a very special place in our hearts and minds. 

This Sunday, we remember and honor all those who have left this mortal plane, reading aloud the necrology of those members of BMPC who have passed away since the last All Saints’ Sunday. A number of profound anthems will be offered by the Sanctuary Choir, helping to frame this special service. Music has the transformative power to take us to another place – another reality. How? I’m honestly not quite sure. Whether it’s a particular marriage of text and music, or a piece you’re hearing for the first time, or even perhaps the 100th time, there’s a timeless quality to being in this space, hearing voices soaring from above the pews. Perhaps the somewhat intangible nature of music adds to its transformative quality. Where are we transported to? Who do we see when we close our eyes?  

 In a war-torn and grief-filled world, hearing beautiful choral music and reading aloud the names of those who have dearly departed, maybe, amid a world in strife, we’re witnessing a glimpse and a snapshot of Heaven. 

 If you could see the journey whole,
you might never undertake it,
might never dare the first step
that propels you from
the place you have known
toward the place you know not.
                                 ~Jan Richardson

Through my own experience with the churches I have been privileged to serve, and in the process of calling pastoral colleagues to join the staff of Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church, I have learned a couple of things about what becomes, as we say in church lingo, a sense of call.

First, search committees that get elected by a congregation are made up of a diverse group of people who undergo a process of discernment to articulate a vision, draft a position description, and search for and converse with candidates. Together, they pray, dream in abstractions, argue, laugh, debate, and, over time, they become more than the sum of their parts. It’s a Holy Spirit thing.

Likewise, pastoral candidates begin with companion emotions of reluctance and readiness to leave one place of ministry and journey into a new venture. This too is a Holy Spirit thing – hard to pin down, complicated to explain, a mixture of risk, fear of the unknown, excitement for the journey. As Jan Richardson’s poem suggests, we can never see the journey whole when we take that first step.

What a joy it is for me now to look back and recognize that our mutual sense of call, between BMPC and me, feels whole. Thirteen years ago, I could not see the contours of the journey, but today I can say with confidence that the work to which I was called feels complete. The church is healthy, well-staffed, and poised for a bold new chapter with fresh leadership. Last Sunday’s reception of 30 new members, bringing with them 12 new children, is a clear sign of continuing growth and vitality for this congregation!

I am so grateful for the journey here and for your partnership along the way, and now feel ready to step forward into a new season. In Presbyterian polity, a departing pastor, the Clerk of Session, and the presbytery sign a Covenant of Closure, in which I have promised that I will refrain from any pastoral involvement with BMPC going forward. This, too, is a sign of trust that our mutual relationship is complete. Thank you for all your expressions of love and appreciation, and know that while I step forward into the new season of retirement, I do so with much love and affection for you and the corporate ministry of this great church. From a distance, I will continue to give thanks for our journey together.

“Film music is like a small flame put under the screen to help warm it.” — Aaron Copland

Silent Film is one of the greatest cultural legacies of the United States. Sadly, more than 80% of the more than 11,000 silent films produced have been lost. With the introduction of “Talkies” in 1928 (The Lights of New York), the era of silent film quickly ended. During a short, furious period of silent movie palace architecture, America saw a campaign of theatre construction that made gold leaf, ponderous chandeliers, and the Mighty Wurlitzer Organ the rule and not the exception. Thousands of movie houses depended on live musical accompaniment for their silent movies, and while some smaller houses merely had pianos, the vast majority had theatre pipe organs. While these wonderful instruments were not inexpensive, even back then, it was far more affordable to have a “Mighty Wurlitzer” with a few house organists on staff than to pay for a full orchestra or even a modest band to perform in the orchestra pit every day.

These organs became wildly popular, and several manufacturers jumped on the bandwagon to join the Wurlitzer company to have an organ in every movie house in the land. In Philadelphia alone, there were more than 157 theater organs (now only a handful remain in the Delaware Valley).

When the “talkies” became mainstream movie entertainment right around 1930, the production of theatre pipe organs came to a screeching halt. While some organs were used on special occasions for a few short years, many took over the namesake of their chief reason for being – they became “silent.” Some were destroyed when old theaters were torn down decades later, some were ruined and/or vandalized, and a modest number of them found their way into churches and private home installations starting around the 1950s.

While there were originally several thousand theatre pipe organs around the U.S. and U.K., today only a few hundred remain.

One of the greatest films of that era was “The Hunchback of Notre Dame.” Filmed in 1923 and starring Lon Chaney as the Hunchback, it was Universal Studios’ greatest silent film success. Based on Victor Hugo’s 1831 novel (which led to the restoration of Notre Dame Cathedral), it is a masterpiece of stagecraft, makeup, and special effects. It premiered in New York City at the Astor Theater, which installed a large Morton theater organ for the occasion.

It is our pleasure to offer this film on October 31 at 8:00 p.m. in the chapel. The film will be accompanied by our organ scholar, Daniel Carroll, who will improvise the entire 1-hour, 40-minute soundtrack. The chapel organ has a kaleidoscope of colorful sounds that work perfectly in the genre of silent film accompaniment. Daniel is one of my most talented improvisation students. The Hunchback, accompanied by Daniel Carroll, will provide an incredibly enjoyable evening for all ages!

The film is free; concessions will be available! You are welcome to make a contribution toward the expenses of the evening at the door.