BMPC Pastor's Column

There is an evaluative tool called the Social Readjustment Rating Scale, which seeks to measure the impact of stressors in one’s life that might lead to resulting personal vulnerability. In using the tool, you can choose from a list of emotionally challenging events that you have encountered in the previous year. The list includes things like the death of a close friend, a change in living situation, and uncertainty about the future, among others. The ratings suggest that if you come up with a score over 300, you will be highly susceptible to stress-related illness. 1

It had been a harrowing time for Jesus’ disciples. Just over the previous seven weeks, they had gone through experiencing a death, terrible loss, chronic fear, certain fatigue, and significant anxiety about what the future would hold for them. It is a little hard to rate the stress level for the disciples – the test doesn’t have the option for the stress induced when one of your closest friends is resurrected. But I put in events that they had been through just over the previous seven weeks, and their stress score would have been well over 400, which means they were all fortunate not to have had a heart attack or stroke.

After Jesus’ resurrection, knowing what his followers had been through, he urged them to wait in Jerusalem for when God’s Spirit would be poured out upon them to enable them to carry out their calling. It was on Pentecost morning that the Spirit came in a powerful way. Jesus’ closest followers, the very people who had shown a significant lack of courage, unity, and common purpose when the confusing events of Jesus’ execution took place, were in a waiting room of sorts that Pentecost morning. Within themselves, they clearly did not have what was needed to hold together as a group, much less become a world-changing organization. They were in dire need. Their leader was gone. They showed no capacity to carry forward his ministry. They were dead in the water. But the same God who brought Jesus back from the dead brought those who loved Jesus back to life as well.

Mysteriously, wondrously, sounds of wind filled the room. Could it be the same as the wind of creation, the wind of God, which once again was bringing something to life? Something that can’t be seen, something that moves, something we feel, something whose effects we do see? Then there was fire, yet another symbol of God’s presence, going back to the story of the burning bush. Somehow, suddenly, they were on fire for God, filled with a desire to tell what had happened in Christ’s coming, filled with a God-given ability to communicate even across the normal bounds of languages. The disoriented, the tentative, the timid, and the orphaned were filled with the same Spirit that had enlivened Jesus. The Spirit of the resurrection suddenly took hold of them, and they were utterly transformed, from a wavering and fearful paralysis to a focused and passionate boldness. Peter, who so recently couldn’t bring himself to admit to one person in the middle of the night that he even knew Jesus, was now in the light of day publicly proclaiming that before thousands of people.

Could it be that the wind of God is blowing still? Was it only a brief spark of a holy flame that appeared a long time ago? Or are there, by the Spirit of God, new connections with God and others that move us out of our experiences of stress to stress that there is good news God has for all? This Sunday, May 19, is Pentecost Sunday. It is also when our confirmands will be joining the church. Something tells me the Spirit of God is still needed around here and that, by God’s grace, there is a wind that blows, a fire that burns in our midst, that can bring a new birth of God’s love, God’s presence, and God’s gifts!

1 https://www.simplypsychology.org/SRRS.html

This past Tuesday, alongside BMPC members, fellow Presbyterians, interfaith leaders, community members, and folks from all around Pennsylvania, I traveled to Harrisburg to participate in a CeaseFire PA event, advocating at the state house for the passage of common-sense gun legislation.

Each met with their local representatives and senators to discuss the particular bills in the process – bills that limit access to conversion devices that turn guns into automatic weapons, bills that more broadly apply background checks, bills that attempt to limit the use of ghost guns and someone’s ability to simply “print” their own gun at home.

We spent over an hour as a part of a rally on the steps of the capital where speaker after speaker shared the pleas for a culture and a world beyond too many senseless acts of violence. We heard from elected leaders, faith leaders, doctors and nurses, young people, and local law enforcement. But, of course, the most compelling speakers were the parents who had lost children to gun violence. Their stories of grief and frustration were incredibly persuasive. It is hard to believe anyone could not be moved by their stories.

But people are not. Two of the bills voted on yesterday afternoon—one to ban conversion devices and one to prevent gun trafficking—both failed in the House of Representatives despite the voices that filled the capital all day. This is discouraging and begs the question of what our work is when it comes to advocating for change.

I will confess that I am constantly trying to figure that out.

But while we all figure that out together, I will share the things that gave me hope yesterday.

We were part of a group of clergy who visited specific lawmakers who are extreme holdouts on these issues to deliver a collection of interfaith sermons on the topic of gun violence. In one visit, we were led by a nun connected to the Sisters of Mercy who shared that she keeps the lawmaker in her prayers every day.

During the rally, we heard from the newest board member of CeaseFire PA—a high school senior who lives in West Philadelphia. She talked about what it means for her to stand up for life and speak out for the safety of her community and fellow young people.

We sat together with our neighbors from Beth David Reform Temple in Gladwyne in a meeting with Representative Tim Briggs to discuss what our specific community can do to support him as he works to enact these laws.

I watched my good colleague and vocal leader in the City of Philadelphia, the Rev. Adan Mariena, address the gathered crowds to talk about why our particular brand of Christianity believes in the preciousness of life.

I could go on.

This is hard work, and as a church, we don’t take enough time to figure out our role in it. But it is also something that can only be learned by doing, by being in conversation, by opening our hearts to the pain of others.

I hope that the next time we have the opportunity to make our voices heard together, you will be able to join us. But even more importantly, we will each find ways to use our individual voices to advocate for change as well. To learn more about the important work of CeaseFire PA, check out their website and sign up to receive regular updates.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the children of God.

Each year, our Confirmation students go through a year of Sunday morning study, learning about who Jesus is, what it means to be a Christian, the purpose of the Christian Bible, church history, and more. They met monthly with a Confirmation Mentor, a congregation member who committed to be in spiritual friendship with the student, discussing questions about what we learn each Sunday. Confirmands also went on a Confirmation Retreat at Johnsonburg Camp in October this year. They also participated in a Casserole Blitz, where they experienced Christian service together with their mentors.

At the heart of our Confirmation program is the selection of a Spiritual Practice by each Confirmand. These practices, diverse and unique to each student, are undertaken for thirty days and serve to deepen their faith. From engaging in a daily Ignatian Examen to gratitude journals, the variety of practices is as diverse as our Confirmands. This year, we are excited to showcase the creative projects that our Confirmands have chosen, involving art, food, scripture, and more.

Two Sundays before Confirmation Sunday, our youth ministry hosts the annual Confirmation Expo! At this event, each Confirmand presents their Spiritual Practice and how it impacted their personal faith development. At 9:00 a.m., the Session meets with the students to examine their projects, voting on whether or not to welcome them into the full membership of Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church pending their public professions of faith on Confirmation Sunday on May 19. Then, at 11:00 a.m., the entire congregation is invited to hear about our Confirmation students’ projects. Your presence and support are encouraged and appreciated.

The Confirmation Expo consistently proves to be a vital day in the life of our church each year, as the whole congregation learns about the faith development of our 8th graders. We hope to see you there on Sunday at 11:00 a.m. in the gym!

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.