by Jill Fandrich
​For churches that follow the Common Lectionary (a 3-year cycle of readings from the Bible), the Sunday after Easter (today!)  presents the same story every year. It tells of the disciple Thomas who refused to believe that Jesus was risen without physical proof. The other disciples told Thomas that Jesus had returned from the dead, but Thomas was a skeptic. It is from this story that we have the term “Doubting Thomas.”

The story of Thomas is found in John 20, and goes like this: After his crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus appeared to some of his disciples and friends. The other disciples told Thomas they had seen Jesus. He replied, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” Eight days later, Thomas was in a closed room with the other disciples when Jesus appeared and greeted them with “Peace be with you.” Jesus invited Thomas to touch his wounds, and Thomas immediately declared, “My Lord and my God!” (the first to call Jesus this). The passage ends with Jesus saying to Thomas, “You have seen me and so you believe, but blessed are they that have not seen and yet have believed.”

I can relate to Thomas, and I find it reassuring that this story is told every year the week after Easter. Easter is a wonderful holiday, celebrating the central belief of Christian faith that Christ’s resurrection means resurrection for all of us. It’s great to see our churches filled with spring flowers and with people celebrating new life, wearing their best clothes and singing “Hallelujah!” hymns. But Easter doesn’t stand alone. There’s a very dark story that leads up to it, and in the weeks that follow, it’s not very glorious either. Jesus’ closest friends are afraid and skeptical and wonder what all this means. In a short time, Jesus will leave again. Then what will his followers do? How can they go on without him?

Thomas’ incredulity is probably more common than most Christians admit. I was raised in a church that didn’t allow much room for questions or doubt. By high school, my personal doubts made me feel guilty, like I didn’t have enough faith to believe the way I thought I should. In college, I was exposed to a wonderful variety of other traditions through the freshman requirement of two semesters of Philosophy and Religion. I loved it! P&R 101/102 opened my mind to many ways people have tried to answer the Big Questions—Is there a God? Why are we here? What is beyond this life?

By the time I returned to church as a young adult, I sought one which would welcome questions, acknowledge the inconsistencies in the Bible, accept that everyone needs to find their own path, and encourage people to have hard conversations with each other. I was lucky to have found churches like this, including Westminster. My faith has changed over the years and continues to.

One of the things I like about the Thomas story is that Jesus doesn’t rebuke Thomas for his skepticism. In fact, he anticipates it. Jesus holds out his hands to show Thomas the scars and invites Thomas to touch his wounds. He meets Thomas where he is and acknowledges his doubts and incredulity. He understands that Thomas struggles to understand.

And yet Jesus also says, “Blessed are they that have not seen and have believed.” Two millennia later, Christians are asked to believe in the promise of the resurrection without physical evidence. One of my favorite writers, Madeliene L’Engle wrote, “Faith is for that which lies on the other side of reason. Faith is what makes life bearable, with all its tragedies and ambiguities and sudden, startling joys.” So faith means accepting the ambiguities, the inconsistencies, the doubts, and the questions, living in the tension of unknowing in order to try to know.

Because I’m active in my church, people sometimes say to me, “You have such strong faith!” I usually smile and accept what they mean as a compliment, but in my mind I think, “Oh if you only knew!” I can’t say I’m a person of strong faith, but I am a person of great hope. And that is good enough, as it was for Thomas.

by the Rev. Patrick Heery
(published in the Auburn Citizen March 19, 2023)

​When I arrived in Auburn seven years ago, I wrote my first article for The Citizen, saying, “This place is going to change me. It’s going to show me God.”

In that time, I have pastored my first congregation, Westminster Presbyterian Church. I have become a father to two beautiful children whom we adopted and to six others in heaven. I have learned the lakes, woods and waterfalls of this verdant country. I have enjoyed the hospitality of neighbors, movies in the park, and the fairs and festivals that so evoke Americana. I have walked in the footsteps of Harriet Tubman, William Seward and a history brimming with the ongoing fight for equal rights. I have witnessed the creation of LGBTQ Pride Week and the drop-in center for teens, Pride House. I have had the privilege of touching many hands — in sharing food at a soup kitchen, in praying over the dying, in officiating weddings and baptisms, in rehoming victims of domestic violence, in counseling the grieving, in kneeling for George Floyd and the insistence that Black Lives must matter.

Much has happened — more than I can name here. But, among it all, what remains with me the most is the love of the people. You. I’m talking about a people whose lives are busy and full of problems of their own, and yet who again and again show up for each other, to care for one another.

Oh I’ve seen plenty of the bad too. I am a Presbyterian minister (a Calvinist ... ooh) after all. I’m well aware of our sinful capacities for selfishness, hate and cynicism. I was there when they tried to ban the book "All Boys Aren’t Blue," when someone vandalized our Black Lives Matter banner, when we were collecting school supplies for children and people walked past us, refusing to donate, when more pews were empty than full on Sunday morning, and when more and more of our neighbors fell to poverty, homelessness, addiction and mental health challenges.

In each case, however, love refused to cease its song. For, I have also seen a school board meeting crowded with people defending free speech and the power of learning each other’s stories. I have seen, in the wake of one vandalized sign, hundreds more appear in the lawns and storefronts of Auburnians. I have seen the smiles of children as volunteers distribute more than 500 backpacks stuffed with school supplies. I have seen passionate worship and the curious, delightful wrestling with the questions of our faith. I have seen suffering people walk through the doors of our church, and volunteers greet them as if Jesus Christ himself had just entered.

In short, this place has changed me. It has shown me God. For, God is Love. And now that God of Love is taking me elsewhere. I will be concluding my time as Westminster’s pastor.

When my Mom died three years ago of a sudden heart attack at 69, it hit home to me the fragility of life. Though I rationally knew otherwise, I think I assumed that my family would always be there — or at least be there longer. I am reminded of the charge my pastor in Cincinnati would speak at the end of each service, based on the words of Henri Frédéric Amiel: “Friends, life is short, and we do not have much time to gladden the hearts of those who make the journey with us. So be swift to love, and make haste to be kind.”

This summer, my family and I will be moving in with my Dad, in Cincinnati, to care for him. We will be closer to family. Emerson and Josephine will get to know their grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles more deeply. Jenna will get to focus on her vocation and career, as she will be the one this time pursuing full time ministry. I’ll be focusing on being a father and being a son. This will be a time for growing closer to my Dad, helping him with the house and his health, and grieving together. I might do some writing, some volunteering. I am looking forward to worshiping as a family. And then, when the time is right, I’ll discern what ministry God is calling me to next. But for now, I am excited to dwell in the holiness of relationships, to be swift in the same love I have experienced here in Auburn.
​
I will miss you. A lot. I find hope, however, in the thought of all the people (yes, even the pastors) you will change and show God. I find hope in the God of Love who remains here, waiting for the next person to arrive.

by Jill Fandrich
I have been writing columns for Westminster Church for over ten years now, and I have often used them to write about events or new initiatives at my church. This column is different. This month, I’m going to tell you about what we’re NOT doing.
 
That’s right. We’re not doing a lot in March and April at Westminster. We are taking a Sabbath. We have made an intentional decision to slow down, take a breath, and use these months to concentrate on the essentials of worshiping God and finding God’s presence in our lives.
 
Like any organization (and yes, churches are organizations), Westminster’s default mode has always been to try to do more. How can we improve worship? Let’s get more people involved, add more diverse music, decorate the chancel creatively, create new worship services with different times and styles. How can we grow in our faith? Let’s have more classes, more workshops, more outreach for all ages and at different times. How do we serve our neighbors? Let’s participate in more mission initiatives and more service projects, let’s partner with other organizations, let’s always say yes when we’re asked to volunteer, and let’s send money to every worthy cause.
 
No matter how much we do, though, it’s never enough. Church leaders and church members often find themselves frustrated, tired, and burnt out, sometimes to the point of pulling away. We’ve all heard of the “nones”- people who claim no religious affiliation. There’s another group called the “dones.” They’re people who were highly engaged in church life, and who then left organized religion with no plans to return. Many of these folks maintain deep personal spiritual lives but they’re “done” with church.
 
The pandemic made things even harder. When all the regular ways of doing things were yanked out from under us, churches had to create new ways to hold worship, to offer educational opportunities, to engage in meetings, and to stay connected. We created (often on the fly) new ways of being church while people still expected the old ways to return. The pandemic brought on double the work, done by fewer people, and sometimes with only half the results.
 
Covid seems to be on the wane, but we still don’t know what the future holds. We know as we emerge from the pandemic that a “return to normal” will not happen. We’ve discovered that some of the new initiatives (online worship, especially) are here to stay, and some things we used to do we might not do again. We engaged in a congregational study to talk about how to move forward. We plan to experiment with a new planning model that will be more fluid and seasonal. We plan to streamline and perhaps eliminate some of our committees. We plan to encourage small groups to form organically when like-minded individuals want to gather over common interests or goals.
 
But like everyone, we are tired. And being tired is a terrible time to make major decisions or major changes. We need a rest.
 
So, we are taking one. We have declared March and April a time of Sabbath. We are cutting back on meetings, programs, events, and demands. We are concentrating on the essentials of worship, which will be simpler, less structured, and less labor intensive. We are encouraging people to say “no” without guilt. We are hoping that this will open time in our personal lives and in our lives together to find God in ways we find life-giving, rather than life-draining.
 
It's very possible that we might find we don’t miss some of the things we’ve given up. And if that’s the case, then we won’t resume them. We also might find that some things were more important than we realized, but maybe had become stale or repetitious. We can resume those things in fresh new ways. We hope that a time of Sabbath will refresh us for more enriching, life-giving relationships with God and with each other.
 
God rested on the seventh day of creation. Jesus retreated from the crowds when he was overwhelmed with his ministry. A time of Sabbath is a gift to ourselves, a gift that will help us realize who we are and to whom we belong.
 
 

I grew up in a church-going, Bible-reading family. From a very young age, I was expected to read 10 verses a night before going to bed. I attended Sunday School as a child and taught Sunday School as an adult. I know my Bible stories pretty well. In fact, the only time I excel at Jeopardy is when “Bible” is one of the categories.
 
There was a time when everyone knew the basic Bible stories. That’s not as common anymore. Although many people own a Bible, few have actually read it. The Bible has shaped our language, our culture, and our faith, but it’s a largely misunderstood book.
 
At my church, we have embarked on a year-long “Journey through the Bible,” to introduce the key stories and people in this fascinating book. It’s a challenging undertaking. The Bible is a complex and very long book. Our goal is to help people open up their Bibles and explore these fascinating stories on their own. We offer suggested reading guides and links to videos and other resources, and we meet once a month to discuss what we’re discovering.
 
We started at the beginning, with the stories in Genesis and Exodus. From the very first pages, we realized that there is so much more to these stories than what we learned as children. The biblical stories are so complex that one can discover something new no matter how many times they are read.
 
In Genesis and Exodus, we met Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, Noah and his family, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac, Jacob and Esau, Jacob’s twelve sons (especially Joseph), and Moses. In the very first pages, we discovered new things in these familiar stories. Did you know there are two very different accounts of creation, with completely different narratives? But in both, it is clear that it was God’s intention for humans to live in harmony with God and with all creation. By page 3, however, it all fell apart when Adam and Eve gave in to temptation. But God, although angry and disappointed, didn’t give up on them.
 
We read the Noah story, which is often depicted in picture books with cute animals on the ark, and found that it is actually a very dark, disturbing story of humans’ failures and of God’s attempt to start over. Noah, a good man whom God chose to save from the floods, followed God’s instructions up to a point, but then acted atrociously after the water receded. And yet God again gave humankind another chance.
 
We saw God choose Abraham and Sarah to be the forebears of a great nation, making a covenant with Abraham that his descendants would be God’s chosen people. God’s unusual choice of Abraham as “the father of nations” showed how God selected regular people to carry out his vision of a whole relationship with God and humankind.
 
We met Jacob and Esau, and questioned why God would approve of the second son’s deception of his older brother to steal his birthright. We pondered why Joseph, the youngest son of Jacob, would be raised up to power over his brothers. We explored the story of Moses leading the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, only for the people to grumble, complain, and defy God.
 
We moved into the history books and saw over and over how God’s people disappointed God and how over and over God forgave them and gave them more chances. We saw a theme develop as God never gave up on his people. Time and again, God showed them a way to restore the perfect relationship that was present at creation. Time and again, the people messed up. And time and again, God corrected them, forgave them, and gave them more chances.
 
The stories in the Bible turn the expected norms upside down, with God patiently loving obstinate, flawed, and imperfect individuals in the hopes of restoring the relationship between God and humankind. As we enter the season of Advent, we will see the story continue as God chooses a carpenter and an unwed pregnant teenager to give birth to the Messiah who will bring God’s kingdom to earth in a new way.
 
As we continue our journey through the Bible, we meet a God who loves imperfect people and who continues to hold out the vision of a better world. We meet a God who doesn’t give up on love. What makes the Bible so compelling is that the story continues to this day.

NOTE: 
Would you like to join the journey? You can find suggested readings and videos at www.westminsterauburn.org/journey-through-the-bible or follow Westminster’s Facebook page at facebook.com/westminsterauburn. The church can provide a Bible to anyone who’d like one.
 

by Jill Fandrich

​For Christians, love is an action verb. Being a Christian is not just about believing certain things. It is about putting God’s love into action by serving others, righting wrongs, and making the world a better place.
 
What does it mean to put your faith into action? It can be small acts of kindness every day. It can be working with others to make our community cleaner and beautiful. It can be sharing food with others. It can be helping build a home for someone without one. There are many opportunities in our community for putting your faith into action. Auburn is a caring community, and many organizations would love your help Saturday, May 22 in the 2021 Day of Service.  
 
On Saturday morning, May 22, you are invited to work alongside others (masked and/or at safe distances, of course) to make our community better. Afterwards, share in a free picnic lunch downtown with live music by Perform 4 Purpose, hosted by Westminster Church and Saints Peter and John.
 
Here are some of the options for community service:
 
BID Downtown “Flower Power” Spring Planting Day
9am until done, starting at Exchange Street for instructions
 
Downtown Auburn is brightened by colorful flowers throughout the summer growing in huge self-watering planters on city sidewalks. Help is needed to plant flowers. Bring gardening gloves and any gardening tools you like to work with. Contact Stephanie DeVito at Stephanie@auburndowntown.org or 315-252-7874 for more information.
 
Cayuga County Habitat for Humanity Work Day
8am-12pm at 144 Wall Street
 
Habitat for Humanity puts God’s love into action by bringing people together to build homes, communities, and hope. The Cayuga County chapter is rehabilitating a home at 144 Wall Street for a new family, and welcomes volunteers ages 18 and up. Wear work clothes and close-toed shoes. Numbers are limited due to COVID, and pre-registration is required; email kip.coerper@cayugahabitat.org.
 
Westminster Church Property Work Day
9am-12pm at 17 William Street
 
Our own church has a variety of tasks and chores for all ages and skills, both inside and outside the building. We welcome volunteers of all skill levels to keep our downtown church safe, clean, and in good repair. Wear work clothes and close-toed shoes; bring garden gloves for landscaping. We will also need volunteers to help prepare and serve the lunch which will be offered this day.
 
Auburn Beautification Park Pick Up at Veterans Memorial Park
9am-12pm at Veterans Memorial Park on Genesee St
 
Volunteers are needed to clean and detail the Veteran's Memorial Park/Pomeroy Park next to the Cayuga County Office Building on Genesee Street. They will be picking up trash, raking and planting flowers to get the park ready for Memorial Day. Volunteers are asked to check-in on the Genesee Street side of Veteran's Park. If you or your group would like to adopt another park to pick-up on this day, please email info@beautifulauburn.org and they will assist you in the effort.
 
CNY Tomatofest Canned Food Drive
10am to 2pm at BOCES
Donations of canned food are being collected at the Cayuga-Onondaga BOCES campus to benefit local food pantries. This drive is co-sponsored by the Auburn Police Department, the Cayuga County Sheriff’s Department, and CIAO.
 
Free Lunch at Westminster Church
11:30am-12:30pm at 17 William Street
 
Westminster Church and the soup kitchen at Saints Peter and John invite everyone to take a break from their hard work to share a free picnic lunch of hot dogs, sides, drinks, and dessert (with some vegetarian options too) on the church’s front lawn. Meals will be bagged “to go,” but outdoor seating will also be provided. Perform 4 Purpose will be providing live music from 11:30am to 12pm.
 
There’s a popular hymn from the 1960s called “They’ll know we are Christians by our love.” It includes the verse,
“We will work with each other, we will work side by side,
We will work with each other, we will work side by side,
And we’ll guard each man’s dignity and save each man’s pride,
And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.”
 
We hope to see many people out in full force next Saturday working side by side to make our community a better place.
 
See you at the 2021 Day of Service! 

by Jill Fandrich

Ashes. Dirt. Bread. Crumbs. Stones. Water. Oil. Coins. Wind.

We can find God in these ordinary things.

We often think our faith develops in mountaintop moments of great glory and revelation. Or we associate God with the beauty of magnificent cathedrals, sun drenched stained glass, and silver chalices. We think we have to be in a holy place to find God. But God is with us in the every day, and this Lent we are discovering how.

Every year, Westminster Church offers a Lenten Soup & Study series, gathering for a simple meal on Wednesday evenings and reflecting on how we find God in our lives. Past years have explored finding God in music, service, traditions, art, meditation, science, and prayer. Because we cannot gather in person, we are holding this year’s Soup & Study on Zoom, and our discussions are based on a beautiful book by Jill Duffield called Lent in Plain Sight.  It’s a perfect book for this Lenten season, as we have spent the past 12 months confined to our homes and isolated from friends and family, which has forced us to find God in new ways. There’s been a lot of “ordinary” in this extraordinary year, and we are finding God is there with us.

Take ashes and dust, for instance. The season of Lent begins with Ash Wednesday, at which we hear the words “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” It is a stark reminder of our mortality, but also one of hope, as the pastor marks our foreheads with the sign of the cross in ashes. This year, we distributed “drive-through ashes” in the church parking lot. 

We’ve all had plenty of reminders of mortality in this pandemic year. Every day, we have watched the death tolls on the news, and we have experienced loss on more personal levels. Death has been all around us. Our small congregation of 175 members said painful goodbyes to 15 of our beloved members this past year. Yet we find God in the ashes of grief, remembering the joys and love that was shared, and finding faith in the promise of resurrection. We see God in ashes.

Bread is another ordinary object in which we can find God. Like many people, I have taken up bread baking this past year, both as a diversion and as a way to avoid going to the store. Watching the yeast foam is like watching something come alive. Kneading dough is comforting. Watching it rise feels triumphant. Baking bread takes patience and effort, but it produces a simple, delicious food that nourishes and fills us. Bread is nothing short of a miracle-- a simple, everyday miracle, like breathing and growing and living.

Bread is one of the elements of communion, one of the two sacraments in the Presbyterian Church.  In communion, we break bread and eat it, remembering Jesus’ words to his disciples at his last supper with them to “Do this and remember me.” Traditionally, when we shared communion in church, we would pass a silver tray with little cubes of bread and tiny cups of grape juice. This past year, in online worship, we gathered up bread (or crackers or cookies) and juice (or coffee or water) from our own kitchens, and shared communion together in front of our computer screens. Strangely, I found that communion took on a deeper meaning for me this way. We were sharing real food—simple items which nourish and comfort us-- to remember Jesus. It seemed closer to what Jesus did with his disciples, taking the bread from the table in front of him and saying “This is my body.” An ordinary thing becomes sacred. We see God in bread.  

How do we see God in ordinary things? We slow down and pay attention. We name the object and think about what it does and what it represents.  Jill Duffield suggests asking yourself the question “What do you take for granted?” and then taking a moment to see common objects as gifts from God and saying a prayer of thanks. Take water, for instance. Plain ordinary water is the substance that makes up 60% of our bodies (and the planet), that refreshes us, cleans us, makes plants grow, and keeps us alive. Thank God for water!
​
This Lent, look around you. God is in the simple, common, ordinary things which surround you. God is in plain sight every day.
 

by Rev. Patrick Heery

​Two weeks ago, Westminster Presbyterian Church celebrated Scout Sunday, in honor of the 12th point of the Scout Law, which declares that a Scout is reverent. It’s a day for thanking our Scouts, leaders, and families for their service to the community. While different this year because of COVID, this is always a fun and special service. We raise money to combat hunger and to support our Scouts, many of whom come from neighboring low-income families who work really hard and give in many ways and yet can’t afford the ever-increasing fees and cost of equipment. As an Eagle Scout myself, I especially love this service.

I remember, as a Scout, hiking in the woods, a compass in my hand, camping in the snow, s’mores on the fire. I remember service projects of mapping new trails, building footbridges, and cleaning up streets. I remember the sound of the bugle at dawn, swimming in the lake, leading my troop in prayer, making great pots of stew and chili and scrambled eggs. I remember learning to orient myself in the pitch dark of night and playing capture the flag beneath the stars. I remember all of this with love.

But this year, we felt compelled in our Scout Sunday service to be mindful that there are some whose memories of Scouting are not so loving. There were the Scouts and leaders who were excluded on the basis of their sexuality or gender identity. There were those who never internalized the moral responsibilities of Scouting, who thought it was all guns and arrows and power, the Scouts (and yes, I remember this too) who while at camp threw rocks at animals and laughed. Then, last year, the BSA filed for bankruptcy due to lawsuits, accusing leaders of the most heinous evil (many of those accusations of abuse tragically true). It makes you wonder: Is Scouting really worth saving?

I say, Yes. It is worth saving. But it is also worth changing. It is worth saving only if it is willing to be held accountable for past wrongs and become something better. Here are four reasons.

First, Scouting is one of the few opportunities new generations have to experience nature. There are in nature truths of God and of self that cannot be discerned elsewhere. There is a plethora of research revealing that free, unscripted play in nature is vital to the formation of imagination, critical thinking, compassion, and independence. Moreover, as humanity faces its greatest threat in climate change, Scouting is equipping our children with the love and the knowledge necessary to fight this threat.

Second, Scouting is about character. It’s there in the Scout Law: trustworthiness, kindness, bravery, reverence. So much emphasis is made these days on the accumulation of information, skills, power, and wealth, that we have forgotten the need to shape our children—and indeed ourselves—in morality. Here, in this age of relativism and hate, are children learning to serve principles higher than themselves, more important than their pleasure or their privilege.

Third, Scouting tells every child: you matter. When I became a Scout I was a shy, bullied kid with a speech impediment. And it’s not that Scouting suddenly made all that better. But Scouting gave me people who believed in me, challenged me. When we look at the ills of the world, how many of them come down to people who are hurting and use that to hurt others? If we really want to save the world, we should build up people’s internal sense of worth.

Fourth, Scouting is about teamwork. Scouting teaches collaboration, provides community, reveals that there are some things, often the best things, that can only be achieved together. Almost all of the points of the Scout Law are about how you treat others: with honesty, with loyalty, with kindness. In a world of me-me-me, we need more of the servant’s heart.

Look, I don’t care if the organizations survive—BSA, Girl Scouts, whatever—anymore than I care whether the Presbyterian Church survives. These are but fallible institutions, and they must be held accountable. Abuse and discrimination must never be tolerated. What I think we cannot afford to lose is Scouting itself.

We must save it, and we must change it. Already, Scouting is becoming more inclusive and implementing safeguards and protocols to ensure the accountability of our leaders and the safety of our children. Already, Scouting is changing. It looks different. Good! It should. Only then is it worth saving.