We are delighted to welcome our new Wilson Family Sacred Music Intern, Nicolas Kilhoffer! Born in 2002 in Saverne, eastern France, Nicolas Kilhoffer began studying piano at the age of seven before teaching himself the organ and serving as a church organist from the age of ten. He later studied organ performance and improvisation in Strasbourg with Daniel Maurer and Johann Vexo, who remains his principal teacher, and continued his training in Paris with Christophe Mantoux. He has also participated in masterclasses with Philippe Lefebvre, Vincent Dubois, Thierry Escaich, and Thomas Ospital. ​ Nicolas regularly performs in recitals in France and abroad, with appearances in Austria, Belgium, Canada, Greece, Italy, Kenya, Portugal, the United Kingdom, and the United States. Recent engagements have included performances at Grace Church in New York, Christ Church Cathedral in Victoria (British Columbia), Saint Paul’s Anglican Church in Athens, and All Saints’ Cathedral in Nairobi. He also regularly performs with the Trio du Levant, an ensemble for oboe, violin, and organ, touring throughout France, Belgium, Spain, and the United Kingdom. ​ Beginning in Fall 2026, he will pursue a Master of Music degree at the Yale Institute of Sacred Music, studying with James O’Donnell, Organist Emeritus of Westminster Abbey, London. Learn more at www.nicolaskilhoffer.com

Isaiah 6:1-10, John 17:1-11 ​Over 10 years ago, an eleven-year-old yodeled in a Walmart. A month later, Mason Ramsey had a record deal with Atlantic and is now worth over one million dollars. A Scottish church volunteer sang the most beautiful rendition of I Dreamed a Dream, and in 2009 Susan Boyle became a global phenomenon, now worth over $40 million. An Austrian skydiver decided to take the sport to the next level, and rather than diving from the sky, he leapt from space at 128,000 feet. At that moment, Felix Baumgartner became a legend—the first person to break the sound barrier simply by falling. Millions of people post hundreds of millions of videos doing fantastically crazy stunts in the hope of gaining viral fame, to feel that moment of glory from adoring crowds. But long before the internet, a man had a chance to perform a spectacular act that would have become the most viral stunt in history. The stunt was simple: climb atop the Temple, leap off, and the crowd’s shock would turn to awe when, out of thin air, angels would catch him, leading the people to bow down and worship him. But Jesus spurned this temptation to viral fame because he knew this was not the type of renown God had for him. He was on the path to glory—but not the human version. In the eleventh chapter of John, Jesus recounts the prophet Isaiah’s frustration with the people. He refers to a time in Israel immediately following Uzziah’s successful reign as king. During his reign there was political stability, virtually zero unemployment, and prosperity across the land. Upon his death, a power vacuum led the nation into a spiral. Inequality, unemployment, and poverty exploded, while spiritual corruption was rife throughout the land. Most tragically, this greatly weakened the nation, leaving them vulnerable to the Assyrian Empire’s evil intentions, which eventually utterly destroyed the kingdom. Isaiah called them to turn back to God and to justice. Tragically, they refused to listen. And this is the critical part: not because they didn’t believe, but because they were afraid—afraid that if they followed Isaiah they would be expelled from acceptable society. They would not risk their financial and social positions to do the right thing. Jesus observed, “They loved human glory more than the glory that comes from God.” Fast forward to the Last Supper and our passage this morning, when Jesus reveals the center of his character: “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you.” The shock of this remarkable point of view has been dimmed by familiarity. To see why, we must understand the Old Testament view of crucifixion. Deuteronomy 21:22–23a says: “When someone is convicted of a crime punishable by death and is executed and you hang him on a tree... [he] is under God’s curse.” This is as bad as it gets. Cursed by God. This was people’s view in Jesus’ time. Internet fame is understandable; it’s nice to be adored. It makes us feel important and special. In contrast, Jesus refers to this public revilement—not as personal shame, even knowing the people would see him as cursed by God—but as his glory. And it turns out, eventually, he was right. And though he knew that he would be rejected by people, he did not judge them for it. Though it frustrated him, he sympathized with human weakness. Back in chapter 11 he said as much: “I do not judge anyone who hears my words and does not keep them, for I came not to judge the world but to save the world.” And this is why we glorify him. He was willing to experience the exact opposite of viral fame out of love for us. And remember, he had that opportunity to jump off the Temple and have angels catch him. People would have believed who he was without having to go through all ofthese awful things. But that was a trap—fame and glory for the wrong reasons. Unlike the people in Isaiah’s time, because Jesus loved God’s glory more than human glory, he now has both. As in Isaiah’s time, as in our time, as in all times in human history, we prefer fame over glory. Fame is the quick-hitting rush of adoration. In and of itself, fame is not bad, but we know that we are called to something more. Thankfully, we are not all meant to climb up on a cross, but we do share the charge from Jesus to seek God’s glory. Joyce Kilmer (1886–1918) offered us a simple and profound illustration: I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in Summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. Her poem points not only to the beauty of poetry, not only to the wonder of a tree, but to the God who makes it all possible. And this is the point of Jesus’ mission. This is why he did everything. We think eternal life is heaven, but that’s a place. In verse three of our passage Jesus tells us, “This is eternal life, that they may know you.” To understand the true nature of glory is to understand God; to know more God—not just more about God, but more God. And in that moment we also know more about the glory of our own selves. I’m going to retell the story of Lynne Cox, who showed us courage, sacrifice, and a willingness to chase the wonders of creation. Every time I recount the story, I am left saying to myself, “God is so good.” This version is adapted from NPR’s This American Life. When Lynne Cox was 17 years old, she had already broken several world records for long-distance swimming. She had crossed the English Channel twice and was always training. One morning, she was swimming in the ocean off Seal Beach, California, before the sun was up. She loved swimming at this hour when no one and nothing was out there—just her, the darkness, and the water. But on this day, suddenly she sensed something beneath her. As she said: “I felt the water hollowing out around me and felt like something really big was swimming below. And so in my mind, I'm thinking, oh my gosh, is it a seal? And I'm like, no, it's too big for a seal. I was like, okay, is it a dolphin? No, it's not a dolphin. And then I thought, oh my God, could it be a shark?” She started swimming closer to shore, and this giant something continued to swim underneath her. “But there was an old man named Steve who worked in the bait shop on the pier, and he sort of watched over me and watched what was going on with the water. And I could see him standing under a light on the pier, waving toward me to come, to swim out to him. And at first I thought, ‘There's no way.’ And he yelled at me and said, ‘Lynne, come here. There's a baby whale swimming with you.’” In the midst of her shock, she was ready to go ashore. Lynne Cox explains: “But Steve told me that the baby whale would follow me and possibly run aground. And the weight of his lungs on the beach would kill him. But he also thought that maybe the baby whale would just swim off and be totally lost. So his idea was that you just need to stay with the baby whale.” In the thrill and privilege of the moment came a sense of responsibility for that whale. For the next five hours, Lynne Cox swam with the whale trying to find the baby’s mother. Truly risking her life, she swam farther from shore; and if she became too tired, she might not make it home. But she had been bonded to this whale’s fate with the belief and hope that only a seventeen-year-old can have. And fishermen were directing her, helping her find the mother. But the whale helped her too. Sensing she was not as strong, the whale swam right in front of her so that she was pulled forward in its wake. Finally, now at almost the seventh hour, they found the mother. “She came right next to me. And you know, when a mother whale comes next to you, it's like a bus pulling up beside you. And I backed away some because I was afraid. I mean, the animal's 40 feet long, 45 feet long. And to be in the water with something so huge is frightening. “So I saw them together, and it was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen in my life, to see the mother and baby reunited. “I thought, ‘I'm going to touch her, too. I'm just going to do it, because I feel like a part of this whole thing.’ And I touched her, and I could feel that she felt my hand on her. And it was amazing, because she was so big. And how does that whale express happiness? But I felt that she was happy. “And then a few minutes later, they swam off.” Jesus set the standard. He showed us the power of glory over fame, and Lynne Cox showed us how, as mortals, we can follow. She took a risk. It wasn’t about a viral stunt. It all began on a morning swim in the darkness when she was alone. She kept swimming. She kept listening to the people around her and to her care for that whale. Through her courage, she showed us how we can focus on doing for others—even a whale—and so, in no small way, she showed us the power of the glory of God. Amen.

Shared during Sunday Worship on June 14, 2026. God of peace and purpose, guard those in the midst of war, especially civilians, as we continue to pray and work for peace in the Middle East, hope in Haiti, and healing in the Congo from Ebola. Be with all countries in conflict and we pray that You will bring to fruition the plan of peace for Iran. Bestow Your proverb like wisdom on all leaders with the burden of authority. Give them eyes of justice, hearts of compassion, and a will after the manner of our Lord, especially our mayor, the governor, and the president. Hear us, Lord, as we pray for healing of this world and of this land. [[Silence] Lord, Your word tells us to weep with those who weep but also to rejoice with those who rejoice. We give thanks when rain breaks a long drought or when after 53 years game five brings the NBA championship back to New York! We celebrate those things that join us together as a city – the beauty of Central Park, the magnificence of the Brooklyn Bridge, the gardens of Brooklyn and the Bronx, the best bagels, pastrami, and pizza on the planet and the unparalleled arts through symphony and ballet, choirs and concerts, museums, theater and theatrics. You have made this city a cornucopia of all the best humanity has to offer in talent and the breadth of human culture. Lead us to live a life of thanksgiving, providing the privilege of access to these wonders to more and more people but most of all may we be grateful for the grace given by Jesus, the love of God, and the fellowship of Your spirit that binds us as one people. Hear us now, O God, as in silence we give You thanks for all that brings us joy. We give You thanks that You hear us, and we trust that You answer us. Through Christ, with Christ, in Christ, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor are Yours, almighty God, now and forever. Amen.

Seeing people gather together in a house of worship and genuinely enjoy their time here is something I find deeply fulfilling. My name is Christopher Allen, and I joined Brick Church in the spring of 1980 along with my parents, Pat and Lee Allen. Shortly thereafter, I left for boarding school and, except for holidays, was away from the church until the late 1980s. When I returned and began serving as an usher, my journey at Brick truly began. It is a journey that continues today, and one that I hope will continue for many years to come. A Call to Serve I first became a Deacon in 1994 while serving as Head Usher. During that time, I was involved in several ministries that delivered food to people experiencing homelessness and food insecurity. I found that work both meaningful and challenging, and it deepened my appreciation for the church's ministry beyond its walls. In the early years of this century, I was ordained as an Elder and served as Chair of the Joint Finance Committee. A few years later, I had the privilege of helping oversee the renovation of our sanctuary in 2004. It was an uplifting experience that remains one of my most treasured memories at Brick. My journey at Brick truly began when I returned as an usher, and it is a journey that continues today. The Beauty of Worship Sunday worship has always been central to my life. For nearly a decade, I have served as the Church Beadle, succeeding Ellsworth Stanton. I value the beauty and structure of our worship service—not because of the formality itself, but because it helps me order my thoughts, focus my heart, and center my attention on God's work in our lives and our calling to serve Him. I also take great pride in caring for the sanctuary and helping preserve the heritage of this sacred space so that we can put our best foot forward in worship. Order of St. Paul One ministry that is especially meaningful to me is the Order of St. Paul. I believe it is one of the unique treasures of Brick Church. It gives children the opportunity to participate actively and meaningfully in worship, helping them develop a lifelong connection to the church and to God. In a city where children have countless demands on their time and attention, the Order of St. Paul provides a reason to come to church and become invested in its life and ministry. It has been an important part of Brick Church for generations, long before my time, and I hope it continues for generations to come. The beauty and structure of worship help me order my thoughts, focus my heart, and center my attention on God's work in our lives. Hosting with Hospitality I have always loved cooking for friends and family. While I would never own a restaurant, I take great joy in preparing special meals for the people I care about. That love is what led me to cook for the Congregational Dinner, following in the footsteps of my mother, who did the same for many years before me. It is truly a labor of love. Seeing people gather together in a house of worship and genuinely enjoy their time here is something I find deeply fulfilling. A Seat in the Chancel From my seat in the chancel, I have the privilege of looking out over the congregation during worship. I see faces attentive to the service, engaged in prayer and praise. I especially enjoy watching the children gathered on the chancel steps during the children's message, completely captivated by what they are hearing. To me, that is the light of Christ shining every Sunday morning. I also see Christ's light shining through the many ministries we support as a congregation, particularly those focused on outreach. Whether it is feeding those who are hungry, delivering meals to those who are homebound, or caring for neighbors in need, I see Christ reflected in the faithful service of Brick Church members every day. I see Christ reflected in the faithful service of Brick Church members every day. My Spiritual Home What does Brick Church mean to me today? The simplest answer is that it is home. It is my spiritual home, my family home, and my community. It holds a special place in my heart-perhaps the biggest place of all. I truly enjoy walking through its doors each Sunday and every other day I am fortunate enough to be here. Brick Church has become an essential part of my life, and I cannot imagine life without it. The simplest answer is that it is home.

Psalms 51:14-17, Romans 3:21-24 ​Planned obsolescence—a wonderful phrase that encapsulates our extreme frustration with technology. One of my great joys twenty years ago was unboxing my very first iPhone. Suddenly, I had this device that could give me directions, pay my bills, text my friends, surf the internet, go shopping at virtually any store, and, by the way, I could even make phone calls with it! But there was something strange about this phone and all the ones that followed. Over time, the ease and the joy turned to frustration. There were no longer any updates to allow me to surf the web. The GPS no longer tracked properly. The battery ceased charging. Despite the fact that there was not a single thing broken on the phone, I couldn't do anything with it. Bit by bit, month by month, an object that had been something marvelous became completely useless. Contrast this with a human baby. Babies are born into the world completely helpless and utterly useless. They can't move on their own. They can't eat on their own. They can't talk. They can't even smile. But bit by bit, month after month, year after year, decade after decade, that infant becomes something marvelous. This does not happen all at once. And I don't just mean the baby's ability to speak and to walk and paint pictures. No, there is something else that is deficient in the human creature when we are born. We have built-in error codes, bugs, and glitches. This is evident most clearly when that infant becomes a toddler. We've all seen it at the grocery store. A child looks up to Mom or Dad with big eyes and a meek request: “Can I have some candy?” “No.” “Please.” “No!” “PPPPLLEEEEEEEASSSSEE!!!” The next thing you know, the child is writhing on the floor screaming in existential agony. And to them it's real—the pain. They're not faking. And the parent has no really good escape route except to snatch the child up off the floor and walk out! Over time, the child grows sufficient coping mechanisms to find other ways to get what they want. But in reality, there is still something broken inside each one of us. The Apostle Paul struggled with this reality. He said, “I do not do the things I know I ought to do, but the very thing that I know I shouldn't do, that's what I do.” It is that inherent weakness and brokenness that Christianity refers to as sin. And so, in our passage this morning, Paul says, “All have sinned and fallen short.” There's no distinction. We're all human. We're all broken. And we all need the exact same thing. With that brand-new iPhone, when you open it, it's perfect. But human beings are born with something missing, with a hole in our heart. And here is the good news: God has a plan for me and you that is the opposite of that for the iPhone. The iPhone is built to work when it comes out of the box, but purposefully to become less useful over the months and years until it's only ready to be thrown out. Human beings come broken, but the plan is that over the weeks, months, years, and decades we become something greater. Had we not been born with that hole—something more than we ever could have been without the struggle, without the pain, without the heartache. Let's call it reverse obsolescence. We start off useless, but over time we become perfected, or in Christian parlance, holy, righteous, noble. And there is a pathway to this journey. The first step on this path to reverse obsolescence is to admit this need. Whether you are Jew or Gentile, Sikh or Muslim, all need to recognize that only God can bring wholeness. The fact that we need God is not a unique concept to Christianity. And so Paul takes us deeper into his argument. We are now “justified” (that is, made right, made whole) by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. And it is here that Christianity has a unique answer. We become whole not through acts of penance. We become whole not through climbing some great mountain, pushing a boulder up a hill. We become whole not through screwing up our will and avoiding every possible sin we can imagine. Paul tells us this process happens apart from the law—that is, apart from works. This is the monumental shift that Christianity makes. And Paul ultimately is not simply referring to the laws of Judaism that had become unwieldy over time, but to the kind of law-based religion that Martin Luther excruciated over. He was in utter despair because he thought that he had to perfect himself through endless rituals, and he realized he couldn't do it. He could never be good enough. Sadly, it's the same kind of despair that leads people to do tragic and self-destructive things. The law, for Paul, represents that innate part of us that fools itself into believing that striving is what makes us worthy and valuable. And the solution that Paul provides can hardly be believed. He tells us it's free—that it is a gift. It costs us nothing because it is too valuable for us ever to be able to buy it. We know the saying: if something seems too good to be true, it is. When that Nigerian prince wanted to give me $1 million, I wanted to believe him! But it's not only the Nigerian prince who's trying to fool us. There are endless things in this world trying to lure us into believing that they are the solution for repairing what's broken inside of us. Whether it is an amazing new car, a perfect complexion, financial success, straight A's in school, getting into an elite college, landing that enviable job at the law firm—it doesn't come from correct political views. It doesn't come from genuflecting to the latest political fad, whether liberal or conservative. It doesn't even come from belonging to the right religion. No, the one offering you this gift is not a madman—or rather, an ad man—on Madison Avenue. Paul tells us the character of the gift-giver: Jesus of Nazareth. And we can trust him because he came not to be served but to serve; because he embodies forgiveness and love; because he gave everything for us—even his own life—to make us whole. It comes through accepting that there is nothing that we can do to make ourselves whole. Nothing that I can do. Nothing that Mother Teresa could do. Nothing that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. could do. Nothing that Gandhi could do. We are of infinite value simply because God declares it. Let me show you how. I think in New York City we should understand this better than anywhere else in the world. The current value of Bitcoin is about $60,000 per coin. Some might argue it is worthless because there is nothing backing it up. But there are people willing to give me real money for this ethereal thing. And in turn, I can take that $60,000 and buy food and clothing, and so there is tangible value in it. Where does that value come from? Belief. There are people who believe in it. It is all about what others believe about Bitcoin. And because they believe in it, they will take real risks on this ephemeral digital coin. It has made billionaires. Bitcoin has become fantastically valuable because people invest value into it. It is nothing more than that. Here's the crux of the argument: If a person on the street can turn something intangible into $60,000 simply because they believe in it, what value do you have when God attributes to you infinite value? God believes in you. God invests in you. God risks everything for you. The path to reverse obsolescence begins by admitting the need. And now we have our second step: accept the gift. Accept the gift because the giver is trustworthy. Believe it, for we have seen how belief in zeros and ones can create billionaires. Don't you think God can make something of you? Finally, we are called to embrace the path. This is the journey that never ends in this life, and it is the true joy of following God. Paul is less concerned—I believe this truly in my heart—that Paul, and especially Jesus, are less concerned with a person having the right religious affiliation and doctrine, less concerned with having the right head knowledge, and more concerned with knowing that kind of love in your heart. Paul tells us two chapters before this that God doesn't judge what's on the outside but what's on the inside. Embracing the path means accepting that we are going to make mistakes. That as we take two steps forward, we're going to take one step back. It is inevitable. So it takes courage. But there is a roadmap: Jesus' life. And as we embrace this path, unlike that Bitcoin, we actually become that thing of infinite value that God has declared us to be. Admit the need. Accept the gift. Embrace the path. The way to move from a rather hapless and helpless infant to a being of purpose, promise, and perfection. Amen.

Dear Members and Friends of Brick Church, As we gathered for our Annual Meeting, I was reminded of a phrase from Psalm 126 that appeared in a sermon preached by our founding pastor, John Rodgers, 250 years ago: "The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad." On this 250th anniversary year of our nation, those words feel especially fitting. As we celebrate all that God has done through Brick Church this past year, I invite you to read the 2025 Annual Report of the Congregation and Corporation, which provides a more detailed look at our ministries, finances, and shared life together. God continues to bless Brick Church in remarkable ways, and it is with gratitude and joy that I share a few highlights from this extraordinary season of ministry. We have experienced abundant blessings in worship and music. Mozart’s Requiem offered a profound opportunity to confront loss, pray together, and receive hope through the gift of sacred music. Under the leadership of our musicians and worship leaders, our music ministry continues to flourish. We are especially grateful for the ministry of our new Children’s Music Director, Liz Richter. Registration in our children’s music program is up 19%, and Sunday participation has doubled. We also celebrate the dedication of our staff and congregation during this season of transition. Visiting musicians consistently comment on the warmth, professionalism, and hospitality they encounter at Brick, as well as the exceptional care of our historic building. We are thankful for the many people whose faithful service makes this ministry possible. Our 2025 Stewardship Campaign surpassed $2 million, marking the third consecutive year of 3–4% growth in stewardship giving. Building on that momentum, the 2026 Stewardship Campaign exceeded $2.2 million—an increase of more than $235,000, or 10%, over the previous year's total. Most encouragingly, 25% of 2026 pledges came from households returning to stewardship after a period of absence or from households making a pledge for the first time. These commitments will enable Brick Church to strengthen its ministry by calling two Associate Pastors and a full-time Christian Educator. We are deeply grateful for your generosity, faithfulness, and commitment to God's work through Brick Church. This year’s 250th Anniversary celebrations have also been a source of inspiration. Through special events, historical exhibits, and reflections on John Rodgers’ Independence Day sermon, we have been reminded of Brick’s longstanding witness to religious freedom, hospitality to those seeking refuge, reconciliation, and care for those in need. These values continue to shape our ministry today. Across our church, faith formation ministries are thriving. Bible studies continue to grow in both depth and participation. The Children’s Ministry Committee has done exceptional work nurturing the faith of our youngest members, while programs such as the Day of Discipleship continue to strengthen our commitment to active Christian service. Our partnerships beyond Brick Church continue to expand as well. We are grateful for growing relationships with Park Avenue Synagogue, the Upper East Side Clergy Unity Initiative, Princeton Theological Seminary, and our historic partnership with The Church of the Living Hope. We look forward to Brick’s continued dedication to the Seminarian Program, bringing on two seminarians this coming year (Fiona Beattie and Chris Randall), as well as a full-time intern from a new ministry partnership program called PreachFor (Chad Scholtens). Thanks to careful stewardship and strong financial management, Brick Church concluded 2025 with a surplus of $207,000. Session has designated these funds to help offset prior deficits, restore grant funding to historic levels, and provide resources for future ministry opportunities as discerned by Session. One of the most encouraging signs of God’s work among us is the growth of our congregation. Over the past year, 95 people joined Brick Church, including 18 confirmands and 77 new members. Many of these new members are young families who tell us they came because Brick feels like home, because they want to raise their children in a loving Christian community, because of our thoughtful preaching and outstanding music, and because friends invited them to experience the life of this church. Our Day School continues to flourish, growing from 194 children this year to 215 children enrolled for next year. We are thrilled that Marie Fabian has agreed to continue her leadership for another three years beginning July 1, 2026. Our after-school theater and music programs remain strong, with nearly 80 students participating each session. This spring’s classes sold out in a single day. Likewise, our production of Mary Poppins brought together church members, school families, and neighbors in a remarkable display of community. While the production generated net income, its greatest success was the 1,500 lives touched through audiences, cast members, crew, volunteers, and families. Whether at the Strawberry Festival, in worship, through outreach ministries, in classrooms, or around dinner tables, I continue to witness the magnetic power of Christian fellowship at Brick Church. Recently, someone asked me, "Is all that stuff real on your social media feeds?" My answer was simple: Yes. What you see is a genuine reflection of the vibrant, welcoming, and Christ-centered community that God is building here. Thank you for your continued support, your prayers, your service, and your generosity. Together, we celebrate what God has done, and we look forward with hope to all that God will continue to do through The Brick Presbyterian Church. Peace, Rev. Tom Evans Senior Minister

Matthew 28:16-20, Psalm 8:1-9 The CEO and president of the board of directors issued a set of simple instructions. They reflected the mission of this organization, and it became the most effective, powerful initiative ever launched in the history of humanity. It makes Apple look like a flash in the pan and Tesla look like a brief experiment. If indeed the church were a business, it would be the most successful one ever! Jesus’ instructions were simple and clear in Matthew’s gospel: Go, teach, baptize, remember. First, “go.” This would not be a board of directors that sits in a conference room making decisions. No. The disciples are going to scatter to the four corners of the earth. Jesus did not simply send his disciples to their kinsmen but instructed them to go to all nations. That was the mission—simple, but impossible: go to the whole world and give them hope. Second, “teach them.” They will be like the door-to-door salesmen of times past, sharing the movement’s philosophy. They are not only meant to disseminate his teaching but to embody Jesus’ ethics and his ways of treating their clientele. But that is not quite right. The recipients won’t be clients or customers but recruits. Everyone is invited to be a part of the organization. That is what makes this a truly unique movement. Third, “baptize them.” This rite will mark them as part of the community. It not only conveys privileges of membership—a network of support that is worldwide, eternal life—but demands responsibility. Each person so baptized is meant to continue the work of the original twelve. Namely, seek to live a life that reflects the way Jesus lived his life. This responsibility will ask everything of us but will also give us all that we ever need. Fourth, remember. “Remember, I am with you always.” When the work gets hard; when you think you can’t go a step further; when you become lost, look within. Jesus has sent his Spirit to guide you, protect you, empower you, and comfort you. These twelve people of no particular pedigree set out to change this planet—and they did it. Listen to the ancient historian Eusebius relate their travels: Meanwhile the holy apostles and disciples of our Savior were dispersed throughout the world. Parthia, according to tradition, was allotted to Thomas as his field of labor, Scythia to Andrew, and Asia to John… Peter appears to have preached in Pontus, Galatia, Bithynia, Cappadocia, and Asia to the Jews of the dispersion. And at last, having come to Rome, he was crucified head-downward, for he had requested that he might suffer in this way. What do we need to say concerning Paul, who preached the Gospel of Christ from Jerusalem to Illyricum, and afterwards suffered martyrdom in Rome under Nero? Think about everything against this miraculous spread. First of all, the two thousand years of opportunity for inertia to simply kill the movement into oblivion. There was no reason to look back at that moment from a historical perspective and believe this was the beginning of a new world. Next, there was no internet, newspapers, or social media to spread its influence. It happened one community, one person at a time. There was something sticky about this message. It has made inroads in every society in the world. In the Asian world, Christianity for a couple of thousand years hardly made a dent, but now, in the past few decades, it has made a dramatic impact on the nation of South Korea and is being fostered in China. It made people’s lives better—empirically better. Their health improved, their education multiplied, their economics multiplied, murder and war decreased, and equality spread. Admittedly, this is a project that has seen its ups and downs and sometimes terrible failures, but overall the trajectory of the world is markedly better. In The Rise of Christianity, Rodney Stark convincingly demonstrates that Christianity replaced paganism because it improved people’s lives. As one commentator wrote: The Christian doctrine translated into real-world social and communal advantages—which made it appealing and sustainable. Some of the key areas where improvements occurred: The value of women. Christianity rejected infanticide, which was especially high for newborn females. Women were also included early on in worship leadership. This led to more stable households and higher fertility. Christians supported one another through mutual aid. In many parts of Roman society, social welfare was significantly weaker; the communal strength stabilized the communities while attracting new converts. In the midst of plagues devastating populations, Christian hope offered a purpose beyond this life; it was a compelling alternative to despair. Early Christians, rather than engaging in wars with their opponents, took the path of peace and martyrdom, which was a compelling new way of dealing with conflict and a powerful witness. Christian theology also taught a deep equality amongst all people—that everyone was made in the image of God—and eradicated barriers between ethnic groups, social class, and economics, giving the everyday person a measure of dignity in this life. We are here today to continue that mission. We are Jesus’ disciples now. A few months ago the congregation took a survey, and you set this mission as a primary priority: to reach new people. In other words, to continue the Great Commission from Matthew’s gospel! The formula is the same. It follows the same strategy that Jesus used whenever he took his message beyond the immediate environs. Believe it or not, he didn’t start by telling them, “I’m the Savior of the world, I’m God! You better listen to me!” He didn’t begin by telling them what was wrong with them. He didn’t begin by preaching to them what they ought to be doing. He began by listening to them—what pain was in their heart, what illness was besetting their body and soul. He began by healing them, respecting them, listening to them, and feeding them. This is the same strategy we strive to emulate, though surely we fail at times. And this is how we have stated it: “to be a spiritual home for all people”—a respite, a break from the pressures of life, whatever your faith is, whether you’re Christian, Hindu, an atheist, a Buddhist, or a Muslim. It doesn’t matter. If this community can help you on the road to life, we want to be there for you. We are not here to convert you; that is not our job, because we seek to respect people’s God-given conscience. “God alone is Lord of the conscience.” What you believe is between you and God. But what we do, we do in the name of Jesus. And we do it with grateful joy. Here at Brick Church we don’t gather as strangers. We come as friends to celebrate! A few weeks ago at the Strawberry Festival, we did that in spades, and people from the neighborhood were coming by and asking, “What is happening here?” They could see the excitement, your servant joy, they could see the love. Which leads us to our second goal. Even as we hope to gather people into Brick Church, we also want to send them out—to be “a beacon of hope” for the Upper East Side, the City of New York, and whatever corner of the world may need what we have to offer. And this is why at the last Session meeting we made two decisions with the blessed surplus we had in 2025 because of your generosity. First, we’re going to pay back the endowment from the past few years’ deficits. Second, and more importantly, we are restoring $50,000 in grants to bring that hope, especially in these days when so many nonprofits’ funding has been cut. This is possible only because of your generosity. Thank you! But we are leaving some of that surplus as seed money, wanting to listen to the Holy Spirit’s prompting, sensing that God is on the precipice of doing something new with us. Jesus commands you and commands me: go, teach, baptize, and remember. And shall we add today: give thanks for all the Lord has done for us. Amen.

Dear Brick Community, As many of you know, Stanley Seocharan is retiring after 30 years of faithful service to Brick Church. Over the years, Stanley has been an important part of the Brick Church community and has played an essential role in the life of both the Church and School. Stanley came to New York from Guyana many years ago, and eventually Brick became his new home. Through the decades, he has been a faithful and consistent presence in this community, quietly serving with dedication, care, and steadfast commitment. We are deeply grateful for the many ways Stanley has cared for this Church and for the countless people whose lives he has touched along the way. Many members of the congregation have expressed a desire to recognize Stanley’s years of service and thank him for the many ways he has supported this community over the years. In response, Brick Church has established a fund in recognition of Stanley’s service to the church. If you would like to contribute as we celebrate Stanley’s retirement, you may do so by clicking here. We give thanks for Stanley’s 30 years of service and invite you to join us in celebrating his retirement and wishing him every blessing in this next chapter. Peace, Rev. Dr. Thomas E. Evans

Shared during Sunday Worship on May 17, 2026. When the apostle Paul tells us the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed to us, we admit, dear Lord, this is hard for us to imagine. When we see war and violence devastating the people of this earth, we ache with the same anguish we know our dear Lord Jesus does. So, we ask Your Spirit’s power to bring that endless peace promised so long ago to the peoples of Sudan, Myanmar, Israel, Palestine, Ukraine, Russia, the Congo, Mali, and Haiti. But there are other conflicts being waged in people's minds and souls, especially in our young people. We ask that you show us how, as a city and a land, we might recreate what it means to grow into adulthood so that each person might know they are infinitely treasured by You, and You have given them a purpose in this place. Let them know that their worth is not measured by grades or success, by looks or athletic prowess. You look at the heart, dear Lord, and cleanse them and grant them a sense of joy and the innocence of youth once again. And yet we see signs of strength and resilience, of purpose and presence in our youth and in our people. We are grateful for the programs of this church, for Sunday school, for youth group, for children's choirs and after school classes, and all of the people that devote a portion of themselves to fulfill the vows the congregation made at baptism. On this brilliant sunny day, we look forward with exceeding joy to step outside these doors and to gather at the strawberry festival, where the church and school and the community all celebrate not only the bright sunshine but the brightness of fellowship of the people of God. Many hands have brought us to this moment, all for the purpose of glorifying Your name through the gift of each other. We know that such a grand celebration and feast is indeed what you have in store for us when we move into glory, when You reveal Your glory. So we are reminded that the apostle Paul wrote these words in the midst of his own deep struggles, ostracized by his people, betrayed by his new communities, shipwrecked, imprisoned, and beaten. And yet Paul not only survives, he rejoices, not only does he forgive, but he loves, not only does he receive, but he gives everything. So yes, dear Lord, we do seize this promise that the gift of Your son Jesus and the abundant life he offers us all is beyond comparison. Let us seize it with courageous faith, live it with such passion that others are infected by Your love. We pray all this in great thanksgiving to Jesus Christ your Son, our Lord. Amen.

I came to faith much later in my life, and I came to faith by studying Scripture. I came to faith much later in my life, and I came to faith by studying Scripture, not by going to church. When I had really made a commitment to start following Christ in my life, I knew I needed a church community that could come alongside me on my spiritual journey. So I started church shopping, and I came to Brick Church, and I felt that this was the right place. This was the community that was embarking on their spiritual journeys that could come alongside me on mine—and I’ve not left since. My First Sunday What I remember about my first Sunday at Brick Church was just the beauty of everything—the sanctuary, the people, the music, the way the Word was read and proclaimed. It just felt so right. I was seeking spiritually, looking for a place where I could feel the presence of the Holy Spirit. I wanted a place where I could keep learning, where my faith could keep maturing, and where I could work alongside other committed Christians and do the work I felt God was calling me to do. Discovering My Calling At first, I wasn’t exactly sure what that work was. But as I became involved in different activities, fellowship opportunities, and got to know the congregation and the community, I felt that I was on the path to finding what I needed to deepen and grow my faith. Over time, I began to feel that I was meant to be involved in teaching God’s Word to others. Coming into that calling and discovering it has been such a blessing for me. Faith Through Challenges My faith has definitely been tested over the years, as we all experience through personal challenges and difficult circumstances. There have been seasons when I felt I didn’t know how I would get through something. What has helped me is returning to Scripture—opening the Bible, studying it, spending time in prayer, and sitting in quiet with God. I’ve learned that I cannot do life on my own strength. I need to walk with God through every circumstance. Looking back, I can see how God’s grace carried me through those difficult times. I’m not sure I could have navigated the past 20-plus years without this community. A Place Called Home The Brick Church community has meant so much to me over the years. It’s been home. I have the home where I live, and I have this home as well. This is Jesus’ church. It’s about the light of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit. It’s about all of us coming together—working, studying, singing, worshiping, crying, and celebrating together. That has been such a foundation and support in my life. I’m not sure I could have navigated the past 20-plus years without this community. It’s exactly what I was looking for when I first began this journey—a community to walk with me and strengthen me along the way. The Power of Studying Scripture The ministry that has been most meaningful to me at Brick Church has been in the education space. I’m a firm believer that you have to open the Bible, read the story, and understand it. When I first started studying Scripture almost 30 years ago, I didn’t even understand what the chapter and verse numbers meant. But you just have to dive in, make yourself vulnerable, and ask the Holy Spirit to guide your understanding. Through women’s Bible studies, summer studies, and adult education classes, I’ve experienced what it means to learn in community. These are safe spaces where we can ask questions, grow together, and support one another, no matter where we are in our faith. I want everyone to experience that—to unlock the transforming power that already lives within them through the Holy Spirit. Witnessing Transformation For the past three years, I’ve had the privilege of leading the Women’s Bible Study at Brick Church. It’s one of the greatest privileges of my life. I’ve seen women come in with no understanding of Scripture and grow into people who speak with incredible spiritual maturity. Watching that transformation has been amazing. This is the work of the Holy Spirit. I want everyone to experience that—to unlock the transforming power that already lives within them through the Holy Spirit. Why Church Matters The church matters today because God is still sovereign, and God is still relevant. We need to be in community, walking alongside one another, growing in faith, and supporting each other. For me, that also includes daily prayer and quiet time—asking God how He can use me and how I can be a light in the world. A Word to Those Just Beginning If I could say one thing to someone just getting involved at Brick Church, it would be this: just do it. Get involved in as many things as you can until you find what really speaks to you. Each step leads to something else. You begin to see where your gifts fit, and how God is calling you to serve. This is a community where we all bring our gifts together for God’s purpose. A Guiding Scripture The Scripture that has guided my faith and leadership comes from Proverbs 3:5–6: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Do not rely on your own understanding. In everything, acknowledge God, and he will set your path straight.” I say this to myself every day. It grounds me and reminds me that God is faithful. He gives us the wisdom and strength we need—but we have to call on Him and walk with Him. This has been my journey—one of seeking, growing, and being transformed through Scripture, community, and the power of the Holy Spirit.

Hull strawberries on May 15th, bake shortcakes on May 16th, and help with hot dogs, setup, serving, and kids' activities on May 17th for the All-Church Picnic and Strawberry Festival on 92nd Street! Join us for music, food, and community fun after worship. Save the date and join the excitement! Email info@brickchurch.org to volunteer!

Exodus 3:7-10, Galatians 5:1, 13-14  "What does the Lord require of you but to do justice and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God?" —  Micah 6:8b    "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." — Galatians 5:1 In his letter to the Galatians, the Apostle Paul proclaims the gift of freedom that comes through Jesus Christ—a freedom hard won and not to be taken lightly. And throughout history, freedom has been a powerful force. Two hundred and fifty years ago, it became a defining idea that shaped our nation and continues to shape us today. Throughout the season of Lent, we explored how the concept of freedom took shape in the colonies 250 years ago. But freedom is not just an American concern—it is a human longing, a central hope across every time and place. This morning, I’d like to explore how that longing for freedom took shape in the Latin American context in the late 20th century, especially in Brazil. By understanding how freedom takes shape in different contexts, we gain a fuller vision of what God intends for all of humanity. As some of you may know, I was born in Brazil, where my parents were serving as missionaries. So, this story is not just history to me—it is personal. And perhaps one of the clearest cultural expressions of freedom in Brazil takes place each year during Carnaval. It is, in many ways, the equivalent of our Mardi Gras. But with its month-long, nationwide celebration, it makes Mardi Gras look more like afternoon tea than a raucous festival. The freedom of Carnaval is expressed in the beautiful, elaborate costumes—bright colors, intricate designs, and boundless creativity. It drew my father back to Brazil again and again. After he retired, each year he would go to Brazil for this month-long party, and he would always return filled with vitality and joy. If you’ve never seen it, I encourage you to look it up and witness the life and joy that pour out of it. At its heart is dance—a free expression of the human soul reveling in the joy of life. There is a deep and resilient joy in Brazilian culture—a love for celebrating life. But that is not the whole story. Beneath that joy, there are deep struggles—especially the suffocating effects of poverty. It was in response to this reality that a movement began to emerge in the 1950s and 60s, led by Catholic priests and theologians who saw the suffering of their people and asked what the Gospel demanded in the face of such injustice. This movement came to be known as Liberation Theology. And it resonated with Jesus’ own mission—to proclaim good news to the poor and freedom for the oppressed. It drew deeply from God’s paradigmatic act of freedom in the Old Testament: the Exodus. God looked upon the oppression of the Israelites and promised not only freedom from slavery, but a life of abundance—a land flowing with milk and honey, a land of promise. God acted powerfully in history, as Exodus tells us, with a  “mighty hand and an outstretched arm.” These theologians believed that to be faithful to the Word of God, the Church must not ignore the suffering of the poor. They challenged a Church they believed had become too focused on spiritual freedom while overlooking the realities of poverty and oppression. I began to hear this critique at a very young age. My parents shared with me stories of poverty, hunger, and injustice in Brazil. And my father fed me, in small but steady doses, not only the work of the Swiss theologian Karl Barth, but also the voices of liberation theologians such as José Miranda, Leonardo Boff, and Paulo Freire. José Miranda argued that God’s choice of Abraham and Sarah was not an isolated act, but the beginning of a larger purpose—one that would culminate in the liberation of the Israelites from their bondage in Egypt. But something surprising happened. A powerful photograph taken at the airport in Managua captures the moment. Father Ernesto Cardenal knelt before Pope John Paul II to kiss the papal ring. But instead of a blessing, the Pope wagged his finger and said, “ You must regularize your situation.” Later that year, Cardenal was suspended from the priesthood. Here we see two different understandings of freedom. The Pope, along with many theologians around the world, believed that liberation theology risked reducing the Gospel to an earthly vision of freedom alone. But Paul, when he tells us not to be burdened again by a yoke of slavery, points us to something deeper—not just external chains, but the internal bondage of sin. The Gospel’s power is at work no matter our circumstances. No earthly chains can bind a spirit rooted in the love of God in Jesus Christ. Paul demonstrated this in prison. Though confined behind iron bars, his spirit remained free. His hymns echoed through the prison, and even a guard, hearing them, experienced a kind of liberation of his own and in turn helped bring an earthly liberation for Paul. And even liberation theologians came to recognize that while poverty can oppress, it does not define the human person. One recalled a woman in deep poverty who, when told,  “It must be so hard to be so poor,”  replied, “ I am not poor, for I have hope.” Jesus died and was raised by the power of God’s mercy, forgiveness, and love. In that salvific act, we are set free—from every bondage and every fear. It is a freedom that transcends time and space, culture and language, race and ethnicity. One need only look at the global Church—its growth in Africa and Asia—to see that freedom alive and at work. So where does this leave us between earthly and spiritual liberation? My parents showed me the way. They served as missionaries in Chapecó, a town deep in the jungles of Brazil. When they arrived it was like the Wild West, complete with gun fights on the town square. As a man you couldn’t wear a hat because that meant you were looking for a fight. The main thrust of their ministry was to build a church, and what made this church unique in its setting was putting the Bible in the hands of the people so that they could see for themselves the free grace that God offers us in Jesus Christ. There is no need for any earthly mediator; you can go directly to God to find salvation. But at the same time they learned from the people the power of generosity. "Faça a conta que a casa é sua,"  a saying the people taught my parents. As my mother told me,  "’Make believe that the house is yours’" is often said when a visitor comes to stay overnight or longer at your home. It captures the essence of what it means to be a Brazilian. This meant in Chapecó, when the life expectancy was 50 years of age in the 1960s, and the poorest were eating out of garbage cans. No matter how humble the house, if there was one bed for 6 people, when you came to visit, the bed was yours. There was always a cafezinho offered, and even if you knew the water was full of parasites, you drank it anyway. As a result they generously shared what they had. In fact, for the rest of their lives they devoted themselves to giving others in deepest need a hand up. The people of Chapecó treated them with love and welcome—but not everyone. When the third child, the first daughter, Rachel, was born she was in immediate distress and she needed an incubator. The other local church had the only one and they said no—eventually a friend helped them procure it, but by then it was too late. So alas, being the fifth-born, I have never met my sister. It is not anything either of them have said about that instance that has shaped my life but rather what they haven’t said. I never heard my mother or my father voice a single moment of bitterness toward that church. I know that I would not have been so forgiving. In fact, I have only heard them speak about these brothers and sisters with affection, love, and respect, and I have learned that same appreciation for their spiritual strength. The effusion of earthly and spiritual liberation is most powerfully articulated by Paul in Galatians. “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.”  And at the end, he tells us how that freedom is to be lived:  “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.” The Pope was right. There is more to freedom in Christ than earthly liberation. But so, too, were the liberation theologians. They remind us that God’s heart is with the poor, and that faith must be lived with courage. Some lost their positions. Some even lost their lives. Yet they stood firm for those dearest to the heart of Jesus. So let us stand firm in the freedom Christ has given us and embrace the joy, make it to Carnaval and dance, dance, dance with the power of hope and the power of love. Amen.