by Jill Fandrich

​Jesus was a storyteller. Some of the most intriguing and provocative teachings in the New Testament are parables which Jesus shared with his listeners. Parables are short stories which illustrate a lesson.  They help people understand an idea without telling them directly what to believe.
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We share bible stories, including some very complex and challenging ones, with very young children in the Children’s Worship Center at Westminster, using figures to tell the stories visually as well as with words. Most stories are told with wooden figures stored in baskets. The parables, however, are always presented in gold boxes. We start each parable by holding the box and saying, “I wonder if this is a parable. Parables are very precious like gold.  This box looks like a present. Parables are like presents that have already been given to us. This box has a lid. Parables seem to have lids on them. When you lift the lid, there’s something precious inside. Let’s lift the lid and see if this is a parable.”

Then we tell the story, simply, without elaboration, just as Jesus did. When we are done telling the story, we sit back and ask what we call “wondering questions” which allow the children to consider what the story means or how the characters felt. There are no right or wrong answers.

How we share parables with children actually works for all ages, including the listeners in Jesus’ time and in our own. The beauty of parables is that the listener must interpret the meaning himself. Parables were a common literary technique in Jesus’ day, a time when most teaching was oral not written. Jesus did not invent parables, but he used them masterfully.   

Let’s look at one of Jesus’ most famous parables “The Prodigal Son.” In this story, a father has two sons. The younger son asks for his inheritance, which he takes and squanders on loose living. Broke and starving, he returns home to contritely ask his father if he can live with the pigs and eat the food they eat. Instead of berating the younger son, the father welcomes him with open arms and throws a huge party to celebrate his return. The older son who has dutifully worked alongside his father all along is angry at his brother’s joyful reception, grumbling that no one ever threw a party for him. The father tells the older son that his brother was lost and now is found, which is reason to rejoice and celebrate.

This story never fails to elicit strong reactions in people. Some sympathize with the older brother, some with the younger, some with the father. Some find it joyful; some think it isn’t fair. Jesus let the story sit with his listeners with no explanation. He could have said, “God’s love is freely given to everyone, regardless of whether or not they deserve it.”  But, the message is powerful when relayed in a story that every listener can identify with.

Jesus not only taught using parables; he used his stories to challenge his listeners and turn their assumptions upside down. Consider the Parable of the Good Samaritan, which is much more than a nice tale about being kind to others. The traveler who was robbed and wounded and left in a ditch was a good Jew. The ones who passed him by, ignoring him and refusing to help, were a rabbi and a priest, supposedly pillars of society. The one who stopped and helped was a Samaritan, a hated man from a culture long despised by Jews.  In the story, the Samaritan didn’t just stop for the wounded Jew. He bound his wounds, exposed himself to danger, took him to safety, and paid for his lodging and care. Hearing this story would have unsettled Jesus’ listeners about how their world was supposed to be. It still does for us today.

A modern-day storyteller, the Rev. Fred Rogers (aka “Mr Rogers”) said, “What a tough job to try to communicate the gift of Jesus Christ to anybody. It can’t be simply talked about, can it? Jesus himself used parables—so I guess that’s our directive: try to show the kingdom of God through stories as much as possible.”

Interested in learning more about Jesus’ parables? Rev. Patrick Heery will lead a Wednesday Noon Study series on the parables beginning September 12 in the church education building. Bring a bag lunch and engage in discussion about these challenging and life-changing teachings. 

Want to make a Presbyterian squirm? Just say the word “evangelism.”

Evangelism has some negative connotations, bringing to mind slick television preachers, street-corner pamphleteers, and door-to-door missionaries. And yet, evangelism is a perfectly good word. It comes from a Greek term meaning “bringing good news.” The earliest evangelists were Jesus’ friends and followers, who gladly told others about his life and teachings.

Evangelism is nothing more than telling how God is at work in our lives and in the world. Sharing that story can be done many ways, by lifestyle, words, attitudes, and actions. We share God’s love through our love for others by showing compassion, feeling empathy, putting others first, building relationships, and seeking justice.
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We also use words.  We tell our stories. 

Pastor Patrick Heery of Westminster Presbyterian Church says this, “That’s how the Christian church began—by telling a story on Pentecost. A story of a God whose heart ached so much for us that God became one of us, suffered with us, stood up for the hurting and the oppressed, showed us a different way to live, to love, and then conquered death for us, conquered everything that separates the divine and the human, till there is only God only love, only Christ resurrected. To be a witness is to tell this story. Not just as it is written in the Bible, but as we have experienced it.”

Patrick goes on to give examples of his own story, how a shy little boy with a speech impediment found his voice because church members believed in him when few others did, how the Westminster family rallied when he and his wife lost twin babies last year, how he experiences God in nature and leads monthly contemplative hikes with others who find God there as well.

Others are sharing their stories too. Westminster member Paul Dungey, speaking to the congregation last month about what evangelism means to him, quoted a paraphrase of Matthew 5:14-16 from The Message: “You are the light of the world. You’re here to be the light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on the hill… By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God.” Paul encouraged everyone to take the light of Christ out with them at the end of worship, and “Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!” as the children’s song says.

Member Rich Newman also spoke to the congregation about his understanding of evangelism. Rich remembered “learning religion” from his father, a depression-era farmer, who taught his son that it is important to help others, make the world a better place, and to be good stewards of the earth, plants, and animals. As Rich became involved with churches, he learned that they are not the end point, but rather the vehicle to make the world a better place. He spent over 20 years as a youth group leader, guiding teenagers into a life of service to others with Jesus as the model. Kids from other churches, other religions, even un-churched youth, joined the group because they saw it made a difference. This is how Rich sees evangelism.

What is my story? You might be surprised to know that even though I write this column, I find it hard to talk about my faith, probably because it is a work in progress. One of the reasons I love my church is that it encourages questions, doubt, different opinions, and struggling with hard questions. There are no pat answers to the difficult questions that arise on our individual spiritual journeys. At Westminster, I am allowed to use my head as well as my heart to experience God.
Evangelism should include an invitation, so here is mine: Give church a chance. Churches are full of people like you who wonder about the meaning of life, what happens after we die, who or what is God, and how they can make the world a better place. Visit several churches to find one where you feel welcome.  If you’d like to give Westminster a try, come any Sunday at 9:30am or visit us on “Rally Sunday” on September 9, when we kick off our program year with a special service and an all-church picnic.

There. That wasn’t so hard.
 
 
 

by Jill Fandrich
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Does the term “Sunday School” evoke images of children in musty church rooms memorizing Bible verses and learning catechisms in classes taught by kindly old ladies? If so, you may be surprised to learn of the radical history of Sunday School which began by offering free education to the poor-- a bold example of churches addressing societal needs and changing lives.

Sunday Schools date back to the late 1700s in Great Britain when poor children worked all week in factories. Education was a luxury for wealthy families who hired tutors or sent their children to private boarding schools.  Churches recognized the need for the industrial poor to be educated so they established Sunday Schools which taught reading and writing, using the Bible as the textbook. The American Sunday School system followed the same model, providing a combination of literacy and spiritual education for the working poor or rural families on the only day available for them to attend “school.”

As public education became available to all, churches became community centers for youth, still offering Sunday schools for religious education. My church, Westminster Presbyterian, built its 3-story education building in the 1930s. At the time, the entire building was used for youth programs, with the first floor dedicated to the “cradle roll” and primary children, the second floor to juniors, and the third floor to senior students. The building included a gymnasium-style Great Hall with a stage, kitchen, and classrooms, and was used not only for Sunday School, but also for scout troops, high school dances, basketball games, and midweek youth programs. In the 1950s, the women of the church started an innovative weekday nursery school for young children in the community.

Times change.  Families change. Communities change.  Today, many people do not attend church. Those who do tend to do so sporadically. Many children alternate weekends with different parents. Some are busy on Sundays with sports or camping. Many parents work weekends or nights. Others feel marginalized from faith communities, having been excluded or unwelcome in past experiences. And yet, the desire to know God is still there, maybe more than ever in these challenging times. How can churches continue to share God’s love in bold and innovative ways with today’s families? We are exploring that at Westminster.

Believing that faith formation is a lifelong endeavor, we still offer Sunday School for children and for adults. However, unlike the classes of yesteryear which focused heavily on memorization and doctrine, our approach is to help students young and old experience the mystery of faith, struggle with the difficult questions, and discover how God is present in their lives. We connect faith to daily living, always exploring how to put faith in action.

Sunday School is still important, but it only reaches the families who come to church on Sundays, and our vision is larger than that. We want to take faith outside the walls of our church, and find God in nature and in our neighborhoods. We want kids to learn, and also to serve, care, and act. Seeing the needs in our community, we want to serve marginalized youth who have been rejected by churches because of their sexual and gender identity, children with special needs for whom traditional church experiences are difficult, and modern families completely new to church or whose schedules don’t allow for regular church attendance. We are growing a new youth and children’s ministry at Westminster called REACH (Relate, Explore, Act, Care, Help).

Westminster’s vision for REACH is:
· A place that welcomes all children and youth and empowers diversity
· A life journey in which all generations collaborate to nourish faith, raise up leaders, and meet the needs of the community
· A chance to wonder by asking big questions and exploring faith through  nature and the arts
· A modern spiritual practice involving the whole community.

We’ve already begun. We are partnering with the Q Center to offer support groups for LGBTQ+ youth. We are planning youth versions of our popular adult contemplative hikes. We are involving youth in identifying community needs and finding ways to address them. We are finding ways to stay connected throughout the week, using new technologies and social media. We are hiring a youth and children’s ministry coordinator to develop these efforts alongside the kids and families.

The world changes, but God’s love is constant. We are excited to share God’s transformative love with today’s youth, children, and families in new and exciting ways.

​by Jill Fandrich
I’ve been a Sunday School teacher off and on for most of my adult life. It’s a joy to watch children grow spiritually as we share bible stories, music, prayer, and a sense of wonder in worship and lessons. While I hope that I’ve played some role in the faith development of Westminster children, I know that the most important models of spirituality are their parents, grandparents, and family-- not “professional Christians.”

We often want experts to teach our children. Certainly, experts are needed when we want children to learn special skills like music, sports, or academics. But faith is not “taught.” It’s interwoven with our lives and a part of who we are, not a skill to be learned. But it does take some intentionality to share faith with children.

How to do this? It’s unrealistic to ask busy families to add more things to their already overscheduled lives. Family spirituality is not another thing to put on your To Do list. Instead, the goal is to see God’s presence in the sacred moments that are already part of our lives, and when you see these holy moments, acknowledge them, name them, and celebrate them.

Bedtime is a good place to start. This is often a time when families are winding down and sharing a few quiet moments before turning out the lights. Many parents develop bedtime rituals (songs, stories, and a goodnight kiss) to help children transition into sleep. This is a perfect time to recognize God’s presence. Traci Smith, in her book Faithful Families, suggests saying a brief blessing over a baby as he/she is laid in the crib each night. It takes seconds to say something like, “May God fill you with love, joy, and peace tonight, tomorrow, and all the days of your life. Amen” or even a very simple “God bless [child’s name]. Amen.” This habit, if said every night, becomes a regular practice for both parent and child, acknowledging God’s presence and power in their lives.

Bedtime is also a good time to share God’s stories. Almost all parents read to their children at night. Add a good bible storybook to your children’s bookshelves, and read from it on a regular basis. One of my favorites is Desmond Tutu’s Children of God Storybook Bible (the book we present to young families in our church). It emphasizes God’s will that people live together in peace, and features illustrations by artists from all over the world, making it inclusive and multi-cultural in portraying the people of God. An added benefit to reading bible stories to children is that parents learn these stories as well. Many adults are not familiar with the bible. A good bible storybook is a great way for parents to become familiar with the stories which shape our faith.

Look for other children’s books which portray God’s love too, and include them in your children’s libraries. Books like Global Babies (Global Fund for Children) or Whoever You Are(Mem Fox) show that all children are created in God’s image.  Love, compassion, and peace are themes of many children’s books.

Children love to look at pictures of their family. When looking through a scrapbook or walking by photos in your homes, point to a photo and say “God bless Grandma and Grandpa” or other family members. It’s a lovely way to remember the love of family and the love of God at the same time.

Gratitude is a spiritual practice to be shared with children. Be mindful of those moments throughout your day when you are thankful. Some are obvious—food at mealtimes, for instance. Try making a simple mealtime blessing a practice. Expand the gratitude to talking about how the food got to your table, and say “thank you, God” for farmers, truck drivers, warehouse workers, store employees, and whoever prepared your meal. In other moments (car rides, bed time, doing chores together, taking walks) talk about things for which you are grateful. Be mindful of the daily blessings we take for granted—our homes, our family, our jobs, our health, our friends—and name them out loud.

And finally, take your children to church. Children learn God is important if God is important to you. Find a church at which you feel at home and become a part of it.
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Be mindful of the holy moments which are already in your lives. Once you make it a habit to see them, you and your children will find God everywhere.

by Jill Fandrich
Palm Sunday marks the beginning of Holy Week. For 40 days, Christians have observed the season of Lent, a time of preparation for the celebration of Easter. Holy Week recalls the story of Jesus’ last week on earth, his death and resurrection.
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I teach Sunday School at my church, and every year I struggle with how to share the powerful stories of Holy Week and Easter with elementary age kids. This isn’t Christmas, with a baby in a manger and animals and shepherds and angels all nicely wrapped in a story full of light and hope and promise. Holy Week tells a disturbing story of betrayal, suffering, pain, and loss. How do you explain a crucifixion to a child? Yes, the Easter message is one of hope and resurrection, but even Jesus’ victory over death is a challenging concept for kids. To be honest, it’s a tough one for adults too.

Adding to the challenge is that kids rarely get to hear all the Holy Week stories, so the build-up to Easter is often disjointed and incomplete. Attendees at Palm Sunday worship will hear about Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, where he is greeted with crowds waving palm branches and shouting “Hosanna!” (rough translation “Hurray!”). The next Sunday is Easter, and churches will be filled with flowers and light and brass musicians and crowds of worshipers proclaiming “Hallelujah!” (rough translation “Rejoice!”). What happened in between to make Easter so special?

Many churches, including mine, offer services during Holy Week which recall the events of Jesus’ final days, thereby telling the whole story. Jesus’ last supper with his friends and followers is remembered on Maundy Thursday, so-named because the English word Maundy is derived from a Latin word which means “commandment.” At Jesus’ last meal with his friends, he gave them a new commandment to “love one another as I have loved you.” At Westminster, our Maundy Thursday service is combined with a meal (a potluck, in our case); the worship and fellowship are intertwined, just as they were at the last supper. We share communion by eating a meal together and also sharing bread and juice, following Jesus’ instruction to “Do this, remembering me.”

On Good Friday, several Auburn churches gather for a Tenebrae service (this year at Saints Peter and John Episcopal Church) which tells the story of Jesus’ betrayal, arrest, and crucifixion through readings, music, and the extinguishing of lights, ending with worshipers leaving the church in silence and darkness to await the resurrection.

Only by experiencing the passion of Jesus’ final days does the joy of the Easter message make sense. Easter celebrates Jesus’ victory over death and therefore ours too. Attending mid-week Holy Week services helps children hear the whole story with others, in the love and security of their families and faith communities. Carolyn Brown, who has written several books about children and worship, advocates for children attending Holy Week services, saying, “Not only do they hear the whole story, but they hear it with the whole congregation. They sense the strong feelings around the stories and learn that these stories are very, very important to all the people gathered there.  So, they listen more intently and claim the stories as their own.” Being present on Maundy Thursday or Good Friday, children can imagine themselves seated at the table or standing at the cross.

But is the story too hard for children? Jesus’ last days were filled with betrayal, loneliness, doubt, pain and violence. It’s not appropriate, in my opinion, to focus on the whipping, nails, crown of thorns, or the details of a horrible death by crucifixion.

But, the story of Jesus' suffering and death is not as unfamiliar to children as we may like to believe. Children know pain. Some know death. They know what it's like to feel lonely, to feel afraid, to feel bullied, to feel hurt. We need to tell the story in an age-appropriate way, describing how people were mean to Jesus and eventually hurt him, and how Jesus could have run away but he didn't because he loved people too much to abandon them. This story connects with children’s own pain and lets them know that they need not experience it alone. It’s a story that also tells them it does get better, that there is hope beyond pain, and that God doesn't abandon them in the dark but leads them to the light. That's a story every child longs for. And I suspect, every adult too. 

By Patrick D. Heery
 
This year, I made a New Year’s resolution to go to the gym at least three times every week. It seemed like a positive, but still not overly ambitious, goal. Do you want to know how many times I have been to the gym since New Year’s Day? Zero. I haven’t stepped foot in a gym. I have, on the other hand, eaten an inordinate amount of ice cream.
 
Apparently, 80 percent of New Year’s resolutions fail by February.
 
It’s not that we don’t desire change. Most of us want to live more faithfully, more purposefully, more joyfully. Most of us want to spend more time with our families, community, and God. And yet, it always seems to be an aspiration for the future. We say we’ll change—when we’re not so busy, when we don’t need to worry about bosses or paychecks or the losses that come with living.
 
The problem is that these changes seem to belong to a different world that’s just not here yet.
 
You hear preachers like me ask you to be selfless, to volunteer, to love your enemies, to pray and worship, to advocate justice and read Scripture, to honor Sabbath each week, and you think: yeah, that all sounds good, but I live in the real world, where I don’t have time or energy for all that; and even if I tried, the rest of the world would still go on being its busy, selfish, hurtful place.
 
With so much suffering, the truth is that the world of the cross can seem impossibly distant from the world of the resurrection.
 
Yet, the apostle Paul, in 2 Corinthians 5:20-6:10, insists that the time for discipleship, for faith, for change, is now. “Now is the acceptable time,” says Paul. “Now is the day of salvation!” Not when things get better, but now.
 
This may seem like an odd message for Lent, when we spend 40 days waiting for Easter, waiting for the world to change.
 
But Lent isn’t about waiting for Easter. It’s about getting ready for Easter. It’s about living as if Easter is coming. It’s about cutting away the old world from our life—all the anxiety, all the busyness, all the materialism, all the ego and greed, all the divisions and hate, all the unbelief—and creating a life that looks like the kingdom of God. A unified life of peace, and love, and worship. A life devoted to caring for the least of these, to lifting up the orphan and the widow, the poor and the stranger. A life that recognizes in each moment the presence of God and proclaims that presence to the world.
 
Paul believes this is possible because, for Paul, the cross (that old world of death, of sin) and the resurrection (that new world of life, of salvation) are now linked. And the link is Jesus Christ. His sacrifice, his love, overcame the division. He climbed up on that cross and broke it—because he refused to live by its terms. He refused to condemn his enemies. He refused to hate. Refused the easy way out. Refused cynicism and despair. He choose to live like Easter was already upon him. And because he made that choice, he became the highway between this world and God’s.
 
If we wait till we feel different, till the world has changed, we will never become the people we want to be. The only way we get there is if we choose today to live like we belong to God’s kingdom now.
 
But here’s why this isn’t just another New Year’s resolution: regardless of what choice we make, Christ has already made that choice for us. We have already been claimed by God’s love, by this new and beautiful world we find so elusive. We’re not being asked to change our lives; we’re being asked to believe that God already has.
 
I hope that you believe, that you choose to live as if you are already a citizen of God’s new world. But the miracle is that, even if you don’t, even when the old world crowds in and claims dominion over you, God already sees you as the reconciled and beautiful child of God you want to be. God sees you this way, because God looks at you through Christ.
 
Lent is your chance to believe, and to know that even when you don’t believe, God still does.

by Jill Fandrich
The verse in Matthew says, “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” At Westminster, we’ve flipped that around to say, “Where your heart is, there will your treasure be.” In other words, we devote our time, energy, and resources toward the things about which we are passionate. If something is important to us, as a church or as individuals, we invest in it.
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There are mission and service projects which we as a church support. But as we look around at our members, we see that they are active in the community in a wide variety of ways as well. Some work with children; others with the elderly. Some can balance a budget, some can write, some can sing, some can cook or bake, some can teach, some can knit or sew. But they all are doing God’s work.

To support and empower members to live out their faith in creative ways, my church established a mini-grant program called “Where Your Heart Is” grants. Members can apply for financial support for ministries which do God’s work in the community.

A great example of this new initiative is the revival of the children’s musical “The March of the Big-Eared Nasties.” Bob and Beverly Miller are long-time members of Westminster who, in addition to full-time careers, have been active in community theater. Bob is a singer and actor who has appeared in Auburn Players and Merry-Go-Round productions, and Bev is a writer who authored and produced the “Palpitations” fundraisers for Auburn Hospital. Together they wrote a number of children’s productions, including “The March of the Big-Eared Nasties.”

“Nasties” was written in 1994 in response to a planned neo-Nazi rally in downtown Auburn. As word spread of the rally, Auburnians planned how to respond, holding assemblies and vigils to celebrate diversity. On the day of the rally, 25 out-of-town neo-Nazis arrived to find they were vastly out-numbered by a large crowd of counter-demonstrators, and the neo-Nazis made a hasty retreat without holding their march. The Millers wrote "Nasties" to help Auburn’s families remember the lessons that were learned from this event, that love is stronger than hate. 

Their play takes place in the mythical village of Friendlytown, where big-eared and small-eared people live together in peace. Some “big-eared nasties,” who believe in Big-Ear Supremacy, plan a march in Friendlytown. The main character of the play is Earnest, a boy with one small ear and one big ear. He and the Friendlytown villagers bring the conflict to peaceful resolution by holding a Parade of Love, inviting the Nasties to join them. 
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A poem by Edwin Markham inspired Beverly to include this imagery in the play: "He drew a circle that shut me out- Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But love and I had the wit to win: We drew a circle and took him in!" 
 
The challenge for Bob and Bev was to write a children’s show about a serious topic in a way that was not frightening to children. By making the conflict between big-eared people and small-eared people, they could show the absurdity of bigotry in a non-scary way. “Can you imagine anything as silly as judging someone by the size of their ears?” Bev said, and included this line in the play by the town Wise Woman Minerva Lou:  "Next thing you know, they'll be judging people by the shape of their eyes, or the color of their skin!"
 
The Millers decided to revive the play as they watched last fall’s news of the violent neo-Nazi march in Charlottesville, VA.  Bev said, “The attempt by neo-Nazis to spread a hate-filled message in a peaceful college community was uncannily similar to the abortive Nazi march in Auburn in 1993. Sadly, it seems that lessons learned in the past need to be re-learned in today’s world.”
 
That’s where Westminster came in. Bev and Bob recruited some other church members, and asked the church to sponsor the production. Because its message fits so perfectly with Westminster’s inclusive Welcome Statement, it was enthusiastically approved. A “Where Your Heart Is” grant underwrote the financial costs, and rehearsals took place at the church. In order to take the play out into the community, the actual performances are January 28 at Euterpe Hall in Auburn and February 3 at the Morgan Opera House in Aurora.

God’s work takes many forms, including teaching children, through musical theater, how to love others.

by Audrey McNally

​I have always been a singer, and my earliest memories of singing are connected with the church. When I was a preschooler, my mother taught me to belt out popular 1950s songs such as “A: You’re Adorable,” which I would unabashedly perform for everyone at church suppers.
Growing up as a member of “old” Westminster Presbyterian Church on Delevan Street and later the “new” Westminster at its present location, I graduated from children’s choir to junior choir and eventually to “senior” choir (which, ironically, was open for anyone who was at least in the seventh grade). I have had more choral directors than I can easily name, but each and every one has contributed to my understanding and appreciation of the choral experience, as well as to my faith development.
Choral singing provides many benefits to the individual, both physically and psychologically. Various medical studies have shown that choral singing can strengthen feelings of togetherness, regulate heart rate, reduce stress levels and depression, improve symptoms of Parkinson’s and lung disease, enhance feelings of social well-being and even increase life expectancy. Stacy Horn, author of the singer’s memoir “Imperfect Harmony: Finding Happiness Singing With Others,” stated: “As long as I’m singing, it’s as if I’m inhabiting another reality. I become temporarily suspended in a world where everything bad is bearable, and everything good feels possible."
Many experts acknowledge the existence of an even more spiritual element. Robert Shaw, a renowned choral conductor, wrote: “The basic premise of music-making is unity — and unanimity — and, in its nonliturgical sense, communion.” Most of the music I perform (or, in church-speak, we prefer the phrase “offer to the glory of God” rather than “perform”) is of the sacred, as opposed to the secular, variety. This genre includes hymns, anthems, gospel tunes, choral introits and responses, and Latin Masses (including requiems).
Sacred music is an important part of every church service, and members of the choir are worship leaders as they proclaim the gospel of Christ through song. At Westminster Church, our very talented organist/music director, Lori Rhodes-Pettit, chooses every choral selection with great care in accordance with the lectionary readings of the day. Therefore, singing music related to the theme of the day helps one to internalize it, often with profound feeling, and to share God’s message of hope and salvation.
Through my membership in the MasterWorks Chorale of Central New York, I am afforded the opportunity to sing great choral masterpieces such as Handel’s "Messiah," Mozart’s "Requiem" or Mendelssohn’s "Elijah." There is great satisfaction in singing these often challenging works, as well as a feeling of awe for the sheer power of the music to inspire both singers and listeners. Although I enjoy singing secular music, such as Broadway tunes or movie soundtrack hits, it is the sacred music that touches my heart and feeds my soul. Ephesians 5:18-19 tells us to “be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts."
Regardless of your religion or belief system, singing with others can elevate your spirit, boost your confidence and widen your circle of friends. If you are considering joining a choral group, the new year is an opportune time to take on a new, self-enhancing activity. Westminster Church (and most churches) welcomes new choir members almost anytime, and MasterWorks Chorale holds two “open rehearsals” for prospective singers in January (this year on Jan. 2 and 9). For more information regarding these choral groups, visit westminsterauburn.org or masterworkscny.org.
Audrey McNally is a lifelong member and current ruling elder of Westminster Presbyterian Church in Auburn, where she moderates the worship committee. She sings in the Westminster Choir and MasterWorks Chorale.

by Patrick David Heery
This Christmas Eve, members of Westminster Presbyterian Church will gather at the Salvation Army Miracle Kitchen to host a special dinner for more than 100 of our neighbors. Together, we will enjoy a warm meal, share gifts and laughter, make new friendships, and sing carols. We will gather in the conviction that we are one community, one family—and that no brother or sister should have to go hungry.

Westminster, like many of the area churches, volunteers regularly at the Salvation Army. I admit, however, that when we first learned that we were scheduled to prepare and serve a meal on Christmas Eve, some of us were skeptical. Christmas Eve? Really? As if we didn’t have enough to do on that day already!

But honestly, where else should we be on Christmas Eve but a soup kitchen?

As a pastor, I of course hope that we will take time to go to church and worship God (Westminster will still have its regular services). But if we go there on Christmas Eve, looking for Christ, we may be in the wrong place. If we want to hear the angels sing—just as they did to the shepherds so many years ago—we’ll need to find the places where people have lost hope and have gathered in the dark.

If Christ chose to be born in such a politically conflicted, impoverished, and alienated space as the rural hills of ancient Palestine, then he would likely look far beyond the walls of the church for his birthplace today. Oh, Christ would eventually show up to church, just as he was later found there as a boy, talking with the teachers, in what he called his “father’s house.” But maybe, we should stop going to church to find God, and start going to church to worship the God whom we have already found in the hurting places of the world.

Janet Wolf, director of the Children’s Defense Fund Haley Farm, says that’s what her brought church in 1976 to a maximum-security prison for its Christmas Eve service. She admits she wasn’t much excited about the idea either.

Suddenly divorced, a single parent, raising two kids and holding down three part-time jobs, she had found that she wasn’t welcome at her former, large, suburban church. The pastor had told her that she could no longer teach Sunday school or hold a leadership position because she was not “an acceptable role model.” She had been devastated until she found a new church, located in the inner-city, where people mostly wore jeans and T-shirts and happily and lovingly welcomed her and her sons.

It was this little church that took her to a nearby prison on Christmas Eve. But when they got there, they discovered that it was on lock-down and they would not be able to enter. So there they were, a small group huddling together, standing in the sleet and snow, in a prison parking lot, bound to wake up sick the next morning, and all she could think of were her old church’s warm Christmas services with candles, trumpets, and carols.

The group tried lighting the Christ candle, but the wind kept blowing it out. Janet then read from Isaiah: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light… on them, light has shined.” Suddenly, one of her sons tugged on her coat and said, “Mama, look!” As she turned and looked up, she saw rows and rows of flickering lights in the prison. In window after window, in cell after cell, she saw the glow of matches and lighters, their light spilling through the bars. Together, with the men in the prison, they all began to sing “Silent Night.”

Janet says, “This was where I realized that I had missed what the gospel was about and what it meant to be a church.”

We too can trust that, on Christmas Eve, Christ will be born once again into the world. But it probably won’t be in a church.

Christ will be born in the prison down the street, in Chapel House among the homeless, in Auburn Community Hospital, and I suspect at the Salvation Army Miracle Kitchen. Christ will be born in the hearts of those who didn’t think they’d be welcome at church. Christ will be born in every poor and unloved part of our lives and world.

I hope we will run there with glee, just as those smelly, rough-mannered, beautiful shepherds did 2,000 years ago.

by Jill Fandrich
           
 “Sending thoughts and prayers to [fill in the blank]”.
            I see these words all the time lately. Following every natural disaster or unnatural tragedy, my Facebook and Twitter feeds are full of posts like these.
            I admit to a certain amount of cynicism about these posts. They remind me of a cartoon which depicts a drowning man yelling “Help!” and a man on the dock calling back “My thoughts and prayers are with you.”
            You’re probably wondering why someone writing a church column would be anti-prayer. I’m not. Prayer is an important part of a life of faith. It is perfectly appropriate to turn to God when one is overwhelmed or in despair or grieving. We pray in times of joy or awe as well. Ann Lamott in her book Help, Thanks, Wowsays that all prayers fall into three categories—supplication (help), gratitude (thanks), and awe (wow). When faced with tragedies like hurricanes, fires, shootings, and hatred, sometimes all one can say is “God, please help.”
            As a kid, I knelt by my bed and prayed every night, starting with the Lord’s Prayer, followed by a long list of asking God to bless family, friends, pets, and others. I learned to pray by bowing my head and closing my eyes. As I matured, my prayers changed, becoming more a sense of awareness of God’s presence as I went about my day. Now I pray with my eyes open and my feet on the ground. I believe that prayer is transformative, but it is more about changing me than it is about changing others or the situation around me.
            “Thoughts and prayers,” then, are how we focus our awareness on a person or a problem or a situation. But it doesn’t stop there. Awareness leads to empathy and compassion. Prayers help us see God’s presence in our lives and in the lives of others.
            From compassion, the next step is action. What does God call us to do in response to our prayers? Are we asking God for action, or asking God for help in knowing how to act ourselves? 
            We are exploring this at my church. Every year, we focus on a theme to help us grow in our faith and to discern where God is calling us as individuals and as a faith community. Last year, we explored “Where your heart is.” We shared those things about which we are most passionate, the things which touch our hearts. We found that as a community, we are concerned  about social justice, God’s good earth (especially our lakes), arts and music, children and youth, education, refugee resettlement, and the full inclusion and embrace of all people.
            This year, we move from caring to doing. How can we actually make a difference for the people and things about which we feel most strongly? After listening to our hearts, how do we put our hands to work?  
          This year’s theme is “You are Christ’s hands.” It is based on a quote from Theresa of Avila: “Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which he blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.” 
           Some respond in big ways. I have friends who are already planning trips to Texas or Florida to work on recovery efforts. Others might not be able to rebuild a house in another state but they work on Habitat for Humanity homes here in Auburn. We can give money to recovery efforts or donate clothes, furniture or household items to local homeless programs. We can visit the sick, deliver meals, write cards. We can start with small steps, and keep taking them.           
           The quote by Theresa of Avila inspires me to move personally from “thoughts and prayers” to putting my hands to work. Prayer is transformational. It is a start. It starts with caring, and moves to doing.  It changes me, so that I can bring change for others.