Greetings in this early and still changeable March! 

I’m looking forward to observing Lent with you.  Some of you will have seen the Pope’s recent statement on fasting and Lent.  Instead of worrying about not eating chocolate or some such treat, the Pope suggests that we fast from indifference towards others:

1. Fast from hurting words and say kind words.

2. Fast from sadness & be filled with gratitude.

3. Fast from anger & be filled with patience.

4. Fast from pessimism & be filled with hope.

5. Fast from worries & have trust with God.

6. Fast from complaints; contemplate simplicity.

7. Fast from pressures & be prayerful

8. Fast from bitterness; fill your heart with joy.

9. Fast from selfishness and be compassionate.

10. Fast from grudges and be reconciled.

11. Fast from words; be silent and listen.

While Pope Francis is not the only person making such statements, his list does help us to remember the real priority of Lent, which is not so much punishment as it is to remember who God is, as well as a right relationship with God—which then has an effect on how we live with each other. 

Here at the end of February, we’re into the lead-up into Lent now, and I’d like to give you a heads-up about what we’re up to this year.  We’ll be doing “Ashes to Go” for the preschool, and I’ll have an Ash Wednesday service at 7:00 that night.  I hope you’ll come, if you can—in some ways it’s a service about being human, and in some ways it’s about living with finite time.  Whatever our advances are medically and technologically, we are still finite human beings, and Lent has a way of framing our finite bodies in relationship to God that is both humble and loving. 

And we’ll be continuing this year with our popular Lenten Soup Supper series—we’ll meet each Wednesday at 6:00 in the Fellowship Hall.

Once again, I’d like to thank you for your participation in putting together love baskets for shut-ins and other people in or adjacent to the church—they were so well-received, and brought joy to both giver and receiver!  As our world seems to get ever more anxious and even hostile, love and direct human contact can do a great deal.  Thank you to all who gathered, donated, organized, and delivered the love baskets on behalf of the community!

One comment that I did hear back after the delivery of the baskets was that some people feel that the church worship service is too early.  I’m not a morning person, either, so I can understand that!  But it seemed to me a good time to explain why our service is earlier now than it was before I got here, and that is that I pastor both McKnight UMC and Epworth UMC (in Allison Park).  My pastoring both churches allows each to pay only a portion of my salary, instead of the full amount, which helps both churches to balance their budgets.  But in order for me to do both services, one service has to be early and one later.  As McKnight was already meeting at 10:00, moving the service up a half hour was a relatively easy change—especially as McKnight doesn’t have air conditioning—I’ve seen how drowsy people can get in the summer when the church is too warm!  I hope that explanation helps.

Finally, I went last night to a continuing education lecture at PTS, in which the Rev. Dr. Lovett Weems, a professor at Wesley Theological Seminary who studies church trends, spoke to us about the times in which we find ourselves—how we might think about them and how we might respond.  One key takeaway was the idea that Covid only accelerated a trend that was already happening in church populations—which I actually already knew.  But what I didn’t do with that knowledge is take it to the next step, as Dr. Weems did:  if Covid only accelerated what was already happening, and church populations were getting smaller, then what we were doing then already wasn’t a sufficient response to the world as it is now.

This does not mean that we should disrupt everything—church is clearly working as it is for a significant number of people, likely including many of you and also me.  But it does mean that we need to think in new and different ways if we want to offer this love and this grace that we have found to people who aren’t already churched.

Last night I attended a conversation between Rabbi Shai Held and the Rev. Dr. Jerome Creach at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, in which Rabbi Held’s new book, Judaism is About Love, was discussed.  It was such a good, productive conversation between the two speakers (and including the audience), and I thought that I could share here some of the insights from last night. 

First we had to define terms, so Rabbi Held spoke on how love, at least for this kind of discussion, isn’t so much a feeling or an emotion—although there are elements of emotion there.  Love is rather a “disposition,” a commitment to putting oneself into a kind of slow, steady work in a relationship.  There is a kind of habituation to the work of love—we are trained and we train ourselves into the habits of love. 

This kind of love isn’t just the love that we hold for God.  If we love God, then we must also love God’s beloved creation, and this love carries a variety of obligations as well as a way of viewing ourselves and the world.  Rabbi Held said, for instance, that there is a continuity between human rights and holding the door for the person behind you.  In either case, you are recognizing and honoring another person in the world as God’s beloved creation. 

Rabbi Held said so much more, and I do encourage you to read his book and consider what he has to say. 

In the meantime, I also want to thank you for your excellent work on our Valentine’s “baskets,” which turned into Valentine’s bags. 

February greetings!  This week in my letter I’d like to bring your attention to a couple of upcoming events: 

There’s an upcoming conference retreat for the laity, to learn and grow about the sacraments of communion and of baptism.  It’s a 3-day retreat at Jumonville (beautiful!) on March 23-25th designed to help you learn more about the sacraments, which are one of what John Wesley calls our “means of grace.” 

Also upcoming is the rescheduled Martin Luther King, Jr Worship Service, which will take place on February 16th at 4:00 p.m. at the Monroeville United Methodist Church.  Speaking will be Dr. Joe Smith, director of spiritual formation at First UMC Pittsburgh, and our bishop, Sandra Steiner-Ball. 

Both of these events are posted on our bulletin board in the front hall.  Posted as well are two QR codes that you can scan, so that you can register for emails and/or Facebook connection with our Pittsburgh District.  We Methodists are connectional—we don’t exist in random isolated communities but always in connection with each other, supporting each other and extending our reach in ministry to the world.  Staying connected helps us to see the larger picture so that we can listening to each other and participate more easily. 

I was reflecting Monday night with the District Committee on Ministry about what we’ve been up to together in church in the past year, and among other things I was talking about the Vacation Bible School curriculum I selected, which is science-based.  There were various reasons for this selection:  for instance, I didn’t want to be doing the same curriculum all the other churches in the area were doing, and I also wanted to plant the seed early that church and science are not incompatible—a concern I still hear voiced in the community outside the church. 

 But I also wanted to do science as a religious community because I think so many lessons are comprehension based and very linear, and I think that in their rush to meet benchmarks, the people writing them forget about the wonder of science.  God’s creation is complex and amazing, and we should take a moment, sometimes, to allow ourselves to be surprised or even awed at the complexity and the interrelatedness. To wonder at this world and the many different forces at work, and at all of the many and varied lives it sustains.

Pastor Eugene Peterson, writing about Christmas, wrote that the church comes together at that time as a “community of wonder.”  We wonder together, coming together awed and amazed at the gift we’ve been given, this new life, come to show us how beloved we are.  Those candles we light that night aren’t simply pretty:  they start from the Christ Candle, symbolizing the new light that has been born into the world, and we “pass” that light not just out of efficiency but to show the light of Christ growing, the wonder “passed” or gifted from one person to another. 

Greetings on this cold January day! 

We’re starting to put more events on the calendar as we plan our year, and I’m looking forward to them!  Some of them are community-facing, such as an e-recycling day, and some are more about the church community, either in fellowship or hoping to meet some of the needs in the community.  If you can think of a need in our community, whether or not you know how to address it, please make it known to me or to the council members so that we can pray about it and talk about it together to see if that is something McKnight UMC can contribute towards. 

Unlike last year, this year we have a somewhat longer pause before Lent begins, we continue our Bible study, of course, and our various active groups and ministries, including the M&Ms, the quilting group, and our multiple collections.  Even as we support these ministries, I encourage you to stay safe and warm!  We have a Facebook link and a zoom link for our Sunday services, so if you’re not able to make it in person, you can join us electronically. 

Greetings on this snowy day!

I want to thank all of you for your gracious response when I had to leave town on short notice to help my aunt move into assisted living.  I felt buoyed by your love and prayers, and was supported as well by a person from this community (who typically prefers to be unnamed) who gathered supplies for me as well:  two dollies, some packing bins, and even rolls of tape.  Love and practical support are a powerful combination, and they absolutely smoothed our way as Wayne and I helped my aunt choose and pack and donate. 

It struck me this morning how much of Christian life is in fact precisely that combination: love and prayers and practical support.  I see that in this community, in the way that you care for each other, in the way that you keep me informed when someone is ill or has had to go to the hospital, and in the ways that you step up when you are informed of a need, whether it’s hats and gloves, or nonperishables for the food pantry, or funding for a project such as flood buckets. 

Sometimes we lean into one aspect of this life more than another, particularly if a problem is far away.  We pray for Ukraine, and for Southern California, and we donate to causes we know and trust that can help them.  If it’s closer, we step up and bring someone soup, or pick up groceries, or pack some flood buckets or some hygiene kits—and we still pray and love and interact. 

I am often asked why I would move from Southern California to Pittsburgh, and while the simplest answer is that my husband’s job was transferred, I usually find myself responding to the implied idea that Southern California must be so much better than Pittsburgh.  Southern California has its gifts, but so does Pittsburgh:  we have all kinds of arts and events, good restaurants, and an excellent medical system—none of which require hours in traffic for access.  We are also not far from beautiful hikes, and we have some really great parks.  We typically have plenty of water:  no one I know here has ever been told to reduce their water consumption or limited on which days they could water.  After so many years of drought shortly before we moved, I found all of the water here a wonder. 

As many of you know, there are currently wildfires in Southern California.  Even in non-drought years, the rain is seasonal (usually in winter), so usually wildfires happen in autumn, and are driven by seasonal winds, but evidently there’s plenty still to burn right now.  I ask you to pray for all of those affected by wildfires in Southern California right now.  Entire small cities have been evacuated, and I know people who are housing evacuated family members until it is safe for them to return home.

Happy New Year’s Eve! 

It has been a great year at McKnight, with new studies and times together (Lenten Soup Suppers and Advent Dinners with Dr. Tuell!), lots of new and continued mission work, including a very successful fund drive for Flood Buckets and a work trip out to the Mission Barn.  We have continued worship together, and while no-one can predict a single week’s attendance, our overall average has been steady and good, and more than when I started here. 

We have also continued our work to connect more with the preschool in our facility, such as holiday goodies and treats like Nativity stickers and WikiSticks, among other things.  Council continues its work of thoughtful and prayerful direction and management of our time and our work together, and found a way to repave some of the more worn parts of our parking lot.  Various individuals have contributed much personal time for such things as working on our signs, painting the doors, and improving our parking lot lighting. 

The M&Ms continue their time of study and fellowship, and supports and guides the church with different mission projects throughout the year.  Our Quilters’ Fellowship continues its loving and beautiful work as well, including sending quilts to children and families whose homes were devastated by the hurricane in North Carolina.  Our food pantry and feeding program donations continue, as do our donations of medical equipment. And even all of that does not sum up the work that we do together. 

But most of all, I treasure our time in worship, when we come together as the Body of Christ to pray and to think and to worship together.  Thank you for your grace and your hospitality and your love, for each other and for the first-timers who come to our services. 

As we get closer and closer to Christmas, following along the strange twists and turns in the Lectionary, we build more and more expectation.  Truly, it is a story worth telling every single year:  God choosing to become human, not only redeeming us, but also standing with us, experiencing a life of family and labor and persecution.  And that wonder of the God of the infinite universe in the form of a small, needy, fragile baby. 

In this season of big emotions and big plans, I hope you’ll be able to join us for one more Wednesday evening fellowship and study with Dr. Tuell.  We’ll have chicken and rice soup (perfect for cold weather!) and then our Scripture study, and then time for questions—whether or not they apply to the study material. 

And this Saturday, we’ll have our Longest Night service at 7:00 p.m.—a pause in the hustle of the season, in order to be quiet and contemplative, or to grieve a loved one, or simply to remember that our world isn’t yet all that it should be.  We’ll be joined by Andrew Giordano, a gifted professional violinist.  Join us if you can for some quiet time with God along with music and candlelight. 

And finally, this Sunday we’ll have a cookie exchange—and you can take cookies even if you can’t bring any.  Just a little touch of love and community during the busy holiday season.

Thank you for a lovely and gracious Hanging of the Greens last Sunday!  I love the fellowship, I love the layers of tradition, and I love all of the sensory pleasures of light and color and greenery that are part of this annual tradition!  It was a new experience for me to include the hanging of the greens in our liturgy, and that seemed to go very well, too. 

We started our Old Testament Advent scripture series last week with Dr. Tuell, who is a gifted teacher and a kind and faithful man.  I know of none better for bringing together context and theology, what we know and what we don’t.  He’s coming again tonight, and we’ll have a simple supper of ham and potato casserole and some fellowship together before we start.  I hope you can join us!

I also want to put our upcoming Longest Night service on your radar.  A Longest Night service, traditionally held on the night of the winter solstice—the night when we have the least daylight in the year, but also the night when we know that the light will start increasing again the next day—is often depicted as only for those who are grieving, and it truly is a good space for those persons.  But it is also a service for anyone who might struggle sometimes with the constant mandate to be happy and merry during the holiday, or who might want a space to remember someone that perhaps they lost long ago, but that they still miss during the holidays. 

December comes inevitably, and yet it always seems like a surprise.  I’ve been planning, at home and at church, for a rich season of Advent leading into Christmas, and I’ve fleshed out those plans with different people, and yet I still feel a little anxious as the days approach.  Part of it, I suspect, is because even though it happens every year, Advent is always new, always different.  There are all kinds of expectations and traditions around it, but we also always need a little shift in perspective, so that we see all of the things that we think we know in a new way, reminding us that God is always bigger than our understanding. 

With that in mind, I’ve asked the Rev. Dr. Steven Tuell, newly retired professor of Old Testament at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, to join us for our Advent series, so that we can talk about some of our Old Testament scriptures for the month.  We’re meeting tonight and for two more Wednesdays in the fellowship hall. 

As I write this, most of us are in the middle of some kind of anticipation or preparation for Thanksgiving.  Although it can get lost in the to-do list and sometimes (unfortunately) in the family tension, it’s a good practice every year to pause and remember to give thanks.  God is with us, and every gift we have has come from God’s own storehouse.  Even our ability to earn and to do and to create comes from God, so even when we see results from our labor, it is still always appropriate to pause and give thanks.  I hope that the holiday is a happy one for you, and that even if you’re missing someone, you’ll know that you are God’s own beloved. 

Next, we are very much looking forward to Advent, that time of preparation and anticipation for Christmas.  Historically advent is a penitential season, like Lent, but that can be difficult to practice with the world around us concentrating on being merry, so let’s just call it a time to remember what we anticipate:  the coming of the Christ child, showing us that our God so wanted to be with us that God chose to be born into a human body and live a human life.  Even before Jesus addressed what theologians call “the sin problem,” Jesus came to the world in a way that demonstrated his love for us. 

This Advent we will have the Rev. Dr. Steven Tuell, professor emeritus of Old Testament from Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, joining us for three Wednesday evenings. 

I have had the privilege these past two days of taking part in a clergy retreat, during which pastors from a variety of traditions talked about the Advent scriptures for this year, and about different Advent practices (and I’m very grateful for the Lilly grant that paid for my trip!). The retreat center is run by clergy of yet another tradition, and yet we’ve all come together in this place of peace, knowing that whatever our differences, we worship the same God, and we all care deeply about pastoring God’s people.

As we come into the beginning of harvest season, let us give thanks for the current health of our budget, as well as for well-maintained buildings!  We are blessed to have a facility in good repair, to be debt-free, knowing that our bills are paid out of our income, and to be able to come together for worship each week in financial security.  This is the traditional time of year for stewardship season, and stewardship is a part of harvest season for a reason:  we see actual, literal fruits of someone’s labor, time and energy and likely prayer come to ripeness, and it is a time of thanksgiving.  As you give thanks for your blessings, I invite you to remember from Whom they come. 

 And we process election results, whether or not we are happy with the way things turned out, I also invite you to remember Whose you are.  As the people of God, we need to let our faith influence our behavior, not only because our faith teaches us how to live in relation to other people, but also because our behavior is our witness.  And finally, our faith also calls us to humility—we know that we have all fallen, and that in that we are no different from our neighbors.  As C.S. Lewis wrote, “There are three images in my mind I must continually forsake and replace by better ones:  the false image of God, the false image of my neighbors, and the false image of myself.”  Let us keep this in mind as we think about elections, and let us be reminded that Jesus came for all of us, even the annoying neighbor whose political opinions are so different from our own, and who does not seem to see the things that we see. 

On another note, I am happy to report that the Mark study has steady attendance.

It was a delight to start this year’s stewardship season with the excellent news that we have a surplus in our budget—thanks be to God!  We are still being careful, of course, but it is worth noting that we have that surplus even as we continue to hold our giving commitments to several local organizations, such as the Millville Food Pantry.  It is always appropriate to have an emphasis on stewardship as we lead up to Thanksgiving, because one of the core ideas of our faith is that all that we have comes from God, and this year we have an “extra” thanksgiving to offer for a renewed sense of congregational health and resiliency. 

I leave the financial part of this season to the very capable hands of our laypeople, and want instead to remember here that stewardship is never only about money:  we have many gifts and resources to manage, including time, skills and service, the witness of our lives, and our ability to pray and imagine, to venture into new possibilities, asking always for the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  Our care for our families is one kind of stewardship.  Volunteering at the Food Pantry is another kind.  Caring for the environment in which we live is yet another kind of stewardship—and the possibilities continue.  Because stewardship is about how we live our lives, and how we manage the gifts that we have been given, whether inside the church or outside of it. 

Writer Mary Sue Drier states that “Rethinking stewardship is not for the sake of bringing money into the church, but for the sake of the very mission of the church to participate faithfully in God's mission in the world.” 

Sometimes in my reading I find a passage that really makes me stop and think.  This was one recent gem:  Bryan Stone writes that evangelism “is a matter of being present in the world in a distinctive way such that the alluring and ‘useless’ beauty of holiness can be touched, tasted, and tried.”  Everyone is afraid of evangelism, picturing high pressure talks that attempt to persuade an unwilling person to join the church.  That kind of evangelism scares me too, and I don’t think it’s usually effective. 

Evangelism, as Stone tells us, can actually be much simpler.  Evangelism can be simply being who we are.  I was in a social group once where it took quite a while to gain people’s trust, because none of them were then Christian and some of them had been hurt by the church, and they knew that I was willingly a member.  I gained trust in some cases simply by agreeing that some things were wrong, such as racism, by having “normal” political opinions, by simply being “normal.”  People who aren’t part of the church can often have a skewed idea of what church people look like. 

But while it’s true that we are “normal,” it’s also true that we Christians are different.  People need to see that too—that we care as we are called to do, and that we have trust in a love that will (and has!) done everything to save us. 

One of my favorite seminary professors just published a new book:  Jesus and His Promised Second Coming: Jewish Eschatology and Christian Origins.  While it’s pretty much a tome, and likely similarly dense in material, I’m very much looking forward to reading it, because Dr. Ferda has a gift for considering a wide range of evidence and coming to good, clear conclusions, while still acknowledge that there is much left to discuss or to answer.  He teaches his class in the same way:  "Taking Bible classes at Pittsburgh Seminary isn’t about getting the answer key to the Bible . . . it's about starting a process that hopefully goes on.”

That process that goes on—that’s what we do in church, and in our personal study—myself included.  We come together for worship, or for Bible study, and we look again at the Scriptures, looking for both the familiar and the new.

Good morning (or evening, depending on when you read this) on a beautiful October day!  We are lucky to have some beautiful clear days after all of that rain.  Savor the gift—because it is a gift—and also keep in prayer all of the people in Florida as Milton hits, and those still recovering from flooding in North Carolina.  It’s a weather version of our time of prayer each Sunday:  we celebrate and give thanks for the gifts, and we raise our concerns to God as well. 

I’ve been reading a book on grief, evidently a classic:  A Grace Disguised:  How the Soul Grows Through Loss, by Jerry Sitter.  The title worried me—it sounded entirely too “look for the bright side,” but it was recommended by someone I trust, so I decided to read it.  Sitter is a professor of theology who lost people from three generations of his family in a single car accident:  his mother, his wife, and one of their daughters.  He knows viscerally what real loss is, then, and he still carries the pain of the loss with him—he doesn’t minimize any of that.  His book is an exploration of what it means—to him—to be a person of faith and hope who also grieves a painful reality. 

Sitter writes of being in this “between” or “both”:  “We are already redeemed through his [Jesus’] work on the cross and in the resurrection, and we are in the process of being redeemed by the Holy Spirit’s ongoing work in our lives.  Both are true—the being and the becoming, the position and the process, the already and the not yet.”  This is very like our conversation on Sunday:  we also spoke about this reality—the already and the not yet—when we talked about the gift of sustenance for the journey. 

So we Christians know something about being between, or being both:  being already saved, and yet still on a sometimes very difficult journey to the Father’s kingdom.