Matthew 11:28-30   This week, a few hundred years ago, the U.S. achieved lasting political independence—something God’s people yearned for millennia. And yet, is there peace—true peace—even in the midst of this freedom? Political conquest has been humanity’s recipe for freedom for ages, and indeed there is good reason for this: self-determination and self-governance bring a tremendous amount of life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness. But the pursuit of happiness is not the same thing as happiness or even contentment. As spiritual infants, we believe freedom is the power to do as we please. And countless despots and dictators, having seized tremendous power, eventually find themselves empty and isolated. Take the death of Stalin—whose atrocities tallied, by some counts, 20 million. A stopped watch on the floor suggested that Stalin had fallen at 6:30 in the morning. He lingered until March 5. His daughter, Svetlana, wrote,  "At the last moment he suddenly opened his eyes. It was a horrible look — either mad, or angry and full of fear of death. … Suddenly he raised his left hand and sort of either pointed up somewhere, or shook his finger at us all. … The next moment his soul, after one last effort, broke away from his body."( source ) Clearly, no peace—nor freedom either. We can only surmise what raced through his mind. But as a person of faith, I believe he finally faced the truth: of his evil, the emptiness of his life, and the terror he faced next. This powerful description of his soul breaking away from his body gives the impression that his soul knew, once it left this mortal coil, it would no longer have the power to prevent justice. But one need not have been an atrocious person to find yourself enslaved by dashed hopes. King David, with all the power any man could want, was enslaved by his desire for Bathsheba. Despite the freedom to do as he pleased, he was not free from his own weakness. The great gap between freedom and peace is not bridged through improving outward circumstances, but by an inner tranquility. Rooting our freedom inward prevents us from being tossed about by every news cycle or personal failure. Eons ago, the people yearned for this same relief, and the prophet Isaiah offered the way, “ You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you .” — Isaiah 26:3 This is the path to freedom in any circumstance. The great spiritual mystic St. Teresa of Ávila reminds us, " Let nothing perturb you, nothing frighten you. All things pass. God does not change. Patience achieves everything .” Her patience showed in her commitment to prayer, which eventually became a “spiritual rain” that showered Christ’s presence within her. This is the paradoxical secret to true freedom. It comes not from victories of any sort—be they political, personal, or professional—it comes from yoking our lives to Christ through trusting His words, “ Take my yoke upon you and learn of me… for my yoke is easy and my burden is light .” Lasting freedom begins by giving it away—giving it to God. Yoke is mentioned over 50 times in the Bible, often with a negative, burdensome obligation—the yoke of the Pharaoh being the most onerous. Jesus was not a person concerned only with lofty abstract notions. Jesus understood the burden of an ailing body that can destroy the spirit, so he cleansed lepers, gave sight to the blind, made the lame walk. The response of the people showed how much the healing lifted their spirits, how free they felt! They rushed away exuberantly, telling everyone about the gift. They couldn’t help themselves—they were so light in the soul. Jesus also relieved people from the burden of the law. This is perhaps the clearest meaning behind His statement,  “my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  There are two types of religious people in the world: those who break you down and those who build you up. Jesus spent time with children, told jokes about camels going through needles, and turned water into wine. He was not a dour, down-in-the-mouth person. He had a reputation for being a glutton and a drunkard! After spending time with Him, people often went away with a brand-new outlook on life. Jesus explained that the law is not absolute but a guidepost for loving God and neighbor. If the law prevents us from loving, it must be disobeyed. Jesus broke the law to heal a man on the Sabbath in order to lift the burden of his ailment. But it is not simply religion of any sort that brings inner peace. This was the tragedy of the rich man who sought Jesus to find the secret to eternal life. He was a good man who kept the commandments of God, but tragically, he loved money more. So, when Jesus told him to sell all he owned and then follow him, the man left crestfallen. But it is not only money—we humans can love just about anything more than God. This is the trial for us all: to love God more than anything—and that takes discipline. St. Teresa of Ávila struggled for years to find satisfaction in her prayer life until she realized it wasn’t only the words, but the passion—the devotion—behind them. And it requires time and energy and work. Unlike the law, Jesus’ burden is light, but make no mistake—it is a burden, an obligation. But when we understand everything that Christ has done for us, it is a burden we gladly take on. Just like when our mother—or whomever raised us—asks us something, we want to do it out of thanksgiving. It is a burden that builds energy and hope and life; it is life-giving, not life-draining. This is by virtue of its nature.  Yoke  ultimately derives from the Proto-Indo-European word  yugom  (isn’t Wikipedia great!) meaning  to join or unite . Yoking ourselves to God in Jesus Christ means having a partner to carry the burdens of life. In cultured society and intellectual society and the business world—and oddly enough, even in the religious world—it can be somewhat passé to imagine that an immaterial God can somehow help us with every problem in our life. “ Oh, religion is the superstition of a less enlightened and ignorant age—and perhaps it’s acceptable that some people still pursue that; after all, people need their comforts .” And in its place, society—and even religious leaders—attempt to substitute a watered-down version of religion with a pedantic morality that boils down to this: “ Be nice and accepting of other s.” This approach is a counter reaction to another type of poisonous religious perspective—namely: “ If you don’t believe in Jesus the way  I  believe in Jesus, then you’re going straight to hell .” And so, it’s understandable that people pushed back from this. But that still leaves us with a  milquetoast  religion that understandably has no power to do anything for anyone—never mind fails to seek truth. So, we must choose. To risk something—and seeing what Jesus did do and is doing for people—means I am hitching my wagon, or rather yoking my life to His. I know this God in Jesus Christ is real. I remember the woman—who might be accused of having an overly simple faith—yoke her life after her husband of 70 years died, and she remained strong and vital because of her faith. I have known parents whose son was desperate to commit suicide because of the medication he was on. That father wrestled his son to the ground to prevent him from leaping off a bridge. No, God didn’t heal the son through some miracle—but they yoked their mental and spiritual survival to Jesus, and God finally directed them to the right doctor. It was their faith in God, the prayers they offered, and the support they sought that kept them from going mad during that time. And the stories go on. Freedom is a profound gift that we enjoy in this country. But freedom in and of itself does not bring peace. Let us yoke our lives to His, and then, as the Good Word says,  “we will be free indeed.”  Amen.

I'm delighted that Liz Richter will be Brick Church's next Director of Children's Music Ministries , alongside her existing role as music teacher at The Brick Church School. Her dedication to nurturing children’s love for music—and for worship—will be a tremendous gift to our community. - Dr. Raymond Nagem, Minister of Music Liz is a musician and music educator who graduated with a Bachelor or Music from Westminster Choir College. She is the music teacher at the Brick Church School. She previously worked as the music teacher at multiple preschools on the Upper East Side. She is also the owner and director of Eastside Westside Music Together which is an early childhood music program on the Upper West Side. Liz grew up singing in church choir from an early age where her mother was the Music Director in Garrison, NY. She has sung professionally in choirs at Alice Tully Hall, Carnegie Hall, The Kimmel Center with Orchestras such as the Vienna Philharmonic, Philadelphia Orchestra and The Berlin Philharmonic.  Once moving to NYC in 2016, she joined the professional choir at Christ Church NYC where she sang under Steve Pilkington for several years. She also was the assistant director of the children's choir at Christ Church under Amanda Smith. She is very excited to be the Director of Children's Music Ministries and to start making music with the wonderful children of the Brick Church.

Luke 9:51-62 Jerusalem was Jesus’ end game. Everything depended upon Jerusalem.  Certainly, before the final week there would be moments of compassion for the sick, challenges for would-be followers. He would castigate the religious leaders for their failure to embody the Spirit of God, and He would teach crowds the nature of the Kingdom of God. Yet all this work was a precursor to the reason God had put Him on this earth and that could only be found in Jerusalem. So, every step He took was a step closer to the final task. It's clearly on His mind as He speaks about His impending death. You get a sense of the human Jesus’ frustration with this task because of the failure of the religious leaders, the failure of the Roman government, and even the failure of His own disciples to grasp the true nature of power. The Sadducees, Pharisees and the temple priests we're so invested in the cultic practices that they neglected a central tenet – the Sabbath was made for humans, as Jesus said, not man made for Sabbath. For them power meant controlling people through the fear of God's laws which sadly was excluding more from the community, be they lepers, tax collectors, or those who didn’t rigidly observe the law. The Roman government, centered in the emperor, saw military might conquest and expansion as the central purpose of power, for the glory of Rome and the glory of the empire – never mind what it meant for individuals. But even His disciples had it profoundly wrong. In this very same chapter, the disciples argued with each other about who is the greatest. Though I imagine in their hearts they wanted to do the right thing, they hadn't reflected on what that actually meant. The power that Jesus was giving them was not for their own glory, not even for their own good, but for the glory of God and the needs of the people. At this point it became clear to Jesus that teaching, healing, reprimanding, praying was not going to be enough. And so, He set His face toward Jerusalem.  Jerusalem would require courageous sacrifice, unwavering integrity, a crystal-clear purpose and a heart that would not, could not allow itself to be changed by the resistance it would meet both within the movement and without. It would be terribly hard. Especially considering what He had to give up. The first 30 years of His life He was a carpenter; living a profession and a daily rhythm, perhaps, not terribly unlike your typical days. Carpentry is a wonderful vocation. It requires physical effort that keeps you strong, an artistic vision that allows you to see possibility in a piece of wood, and when the finished product finds its way in the hands of a buyer, it provides decades of utility that later becomes a treasured keepsake, that kitchen table passed down for generations.  But the time for that simple life had passed. No longer would He spend His time with friends and family and no longer would He have His familiar pillow. Yes, even Jesus wanted His own pillow. Jesus had to leave behind that life that so many of us treasure.  Perhaps then Jesus is simply venting His frustration. He wanted to make sure that anybody who wanted to follow Him understood; there was no point in leading them on.  “Foxes have holes and birds have nests the son of man has no place to rest his head.”  There is a clear sense of painful frustration that Jesus is feeling for having to leave that good life behind. It wouldn’t only mean long weeks on the road. It wouldn't only mean confronting the authorities of Rome or the religious authorities. He would even have to alienate His own family and His hometown. They too would reject Him and so when the man not knowing what was in Jesus’ heart asked to go bury his father, Jesus’ retort, “ Let the dead bury their own dead”  is clearly born of the death of the previous life, for Jesus had set His face towards Jerusalem. Courageous Sacrifice  He had a choice: pay $10 or spend 14 days in jail. He knew that there were good people in Alabama who wanted to support him and for a time he had taken a gentler path. But that time was gone. And like Jesus, he too had set his face towards his purpose and so he gave up his pillow, he gave up his good night kiss, and soon, through a letter, he would alienate critical allies in his fight for civil rights for African Americans. Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. knew it would be easier to pay the $10, but like Jesus, a mantle of leadership had been placed upon him. And he would not only be fighting opponents of desegregation, arguably the easier fight, but he would be fighting those in his own group who wanted a more aggressive stance and Dr. King also had to call to account his white clergy colleagues in his letter from the Birmingham Jail, “ We still creep at horse-and-buggy pace toward the gaining of a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. ”…and you ask us to wait. But King did not write that letter out of hatred or self-righteous indignation but respect even for them and out of belief in them. He would not resort to name calling or tirades, all that he said and did was done with the love of Jesus in his heart.  Unwavering Integrity  Though Jesus had an utter clarity of purpose, He would not compromise the integrity of the path for the importance of the goal. Jesus also would not give in to hatred and name calling. This is the great failure of many movements today, the demonization and the attempt to not only defeat opponents but to erase them. When the Samaritans rejected Jesus, His disciples asked, “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them.”  (misuse of power!) That is the approach in our world today, to reign the fire of opinion, power, and influence to destroy opposition.   But Jesus refused and instead castigated His disciples for even suggesting such a thing. The disciples needed to clearly see that Jesus meant the words He taught them – do unto others, pray for your enemies, forgive as you have been forgiven. If He allowed even a little bit,a little measure of revenge or aggression toward the opposition, the disciples would see it as permission to go even further. More importantly, Jesus knew that even harder than trying to sleep without your pillow is trying to sleep without your integrity. If He treated His opponents as His opponents treated others He would fail before He even arrived at the cross. For Jesus, His face set towards Jerusalem and the purpose was the healing of the world and nothing would stop Him. As hard as Jerusalem would be He knew in the end what His sacrifice would mean for His family, for His disciples, for His fellow Jews, for the gentiles, and even for His Roman enemies. We have a challenge. To stand up for those in our time living in fear, feeling unwanted, and second class. But there is a way forward. And Jesus’ path and way of living in the world and dealing with difference while standing for the truth works. I have seen it. As I have shared before, decades after that famous letter,  my family joined one of those churches who received it. And Dr. King’s plain spoken, Spirit-filled letter to the white pastor of that church struck home. And he sacrificed his own career to integrate that church. First Presbyterian in Birmingham, Alabama. The church split. But by the time we joined God had healed that church and it was one of the most beautifully diverse churches I have ever been a part of. Dr. King’s letter worked! Because it was written out of love. Dr. King, like Jesus, sacrificed his pillow, and more because he too had his eyes set on Jerusalem. Where is your Jerusalem? Where is mine? I pray we all have the courage to set our face, if God calls our name, but there will be the temptation to pay the $10. So, remember our Lord’s example. Jesus set His face toward Jerusalem. He gave up His pillow, He gave up His hometown,He gave up His family and He did it all to show us the way to give us the truth and to bring life. Amen.

Join us for Reformation Sunday and celebrate Kirkin’ O’ the Tartan at Brick Church on October 26, 2025! New participants can order and pay for a banner, pole, and stand via credit card. Place orders by July 10th to be ready for the event. The set costs $170 and can be reused for future Kirkin' O' the Tartans. To view the swatches for your Tartan, email sales@greatscotintl.com and reference Brick Church. You can also reach The Scottish Weaver at (704) 535-8955 (ask for Jackie or Peter) to help you research your family tartan or assist with finding a universal one. The more people we have participating, the better! FOR RETURNING PARTICIPANTS Past participants of Brick Church’s Kirkin’ O' the Tartan do not need to repurchase. Sophie Carnegie will contact you about participating again. Please return your Tartan to the church if it's not stored onsite. VOLUNTEERING For questions, to volunteer, or participate, contact the Brick Church Committee for Kirkin’ O’ the Tartans by emailing info@brickchurch.org by August 22, 2025. FAQs You might ask, what is Kirkin’?  'Kirk' is Scottish for church. Kirkin' means 'churching' or the presentation of tartans in church.   You might also ask what is Tartan? It is a colorful fabric representing different Scottish families. A Tartan is a fabric woven in a specific design to represent a group with a mission we revere. 'Kirkin' O' The Tartan" is the presentation of those tartans at church for blessing. Why are we planning this on Reformation Sunday? So we can remember and celebrate our Presbyterian heritage and the reformed churches worldwide.    Do you have to be Scottish to participate?  Absolutely not! Anyone and everyone is invited to participate in this joyful celebration of our Presbyterian heritage. There are many tartans that are universal and not specific to any one family or Scotland.  Check this list for different options. Tradition matters as it provides a link to our important past. We have much for which we can be grateful from Martin Luther, John Knox and John Calvin and the foundation they laid down for us in our reformed faith. At our Kirkin’ service, we will celebrate our Presbyterian denomination and remember ancient times, as well as past and present kith and kin, while asking God’s help and blessings in the future through special music and a procession of bagpipes and tartans.    As Scotland is the birthplace of the Presbyterian Church, we host a special Scottish celebration that welcomes everyone to take part. Banners are brought into the sanctuary by church members and led by Scottish bagpipes. Even if you do not have Scottish family roots, as members of the Brick Church, you can celebrate our shared heritage. Click below for more information on understanding the Kirkin'.

Revelation 21:10, 22:1-5 In the first few chapters of the Bible, we discover part of God’s plan for humanity. Abel keeps flocks, Cain works the soil and builds a city. A few generations later, Jabal becomes the father of herders and Jubal the first musician. The rich cultures on this wonderful planet are one of the most delightful and enthralling aspects of humanity. Quickly these cultures became nations, and the grand story of the proliferation of peoples has also inevitably led to war. We don't want to fight but by Jingo if we do We've got the ships, we've got the men,  we've got the money too We've fought the Bear before,  and while we're Britons true The Russians shall not have Constantinople! Sung in the pubs of Britain during the Russo-Turkish war in the late 1800s, this song contained a minced oath, “By jingo.” A minced oath replaces a taboo phrase with another—something like saying “heck” instead of “hell.” This song gave birth to the phrase  jingoism , which refers to excessive nationalism with a propensity to use violence and other extreme measures of coercion in order to favor the more powerful nation. It is also noted by a disproportionate positive view of everything that represents one’s country. In our country, this took the form of Manifest Destiny, believing any means necessary was acceptable to extend from sea to shining sea. Perhaps today North Korea is the clearest example—who has turned their propaganda machine into an art form. In fact, the bulk of the Bible in certain ways is a historic account of nations and empires using their deep-seated beliefs of superiority to subjugate Israel based on the will of the deity they happened to worship. There are also clear accounts of holding Israel responsible. This is true of Christians as well. It turns out “by jingo” is a minced oath for “by Jesus.” Christians many times in history have validated aggressive wars in tragic irony by the name of the one known as the Prince of Peace. “Why do the nations rage and the peoples plot in vain? ” Psalm 2 It is a source of severe frustratio n and anger for God to see the divine intentions twisted into protectionism and a warped sense of superiority. Tragically, according to the Geneva Academy, there are 110 armed conflicts around the planet today. With the distortion of the gift of nations, it see ms that God’s plan would be to eliminate any such thing in heaven. I must admit the thought saddens me. My love for nations and their cultures was passed on by my parents from the very beginning. In fact, I just discovered the full depths of my father’s passion to meet new peoples. Last week after my sermon, my mother called and told me, “ Your father met the Guarani people .” Long before De Niro did it in the movie  The Mission , in 1960 my father scaled the Iguacu Falls by himself and convinced one of the Guarani people to take him on a boat so he could get a perfect view of the falls from above! Whether he was doing Irish step dance, listening to the Pakistani Qawwali singer Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, or reading  One Hundred Years of Solitude  by the Colombian author Gabriel García Márquez, he found tremendous joy in different languages, different geographies, and different peoples. From my mother it comes through in her decorating and her cooking. In fact, for Wendy and my rehearsal dinner, we had a progressive meal of sorts through the different rooms of her house. In the Brazil room, a black bean dish known as  feijoada ; cheese fondue in the European library; various Asian cuisines in the Indonesian living room; and clotted cream, scones, and tea cakes in the Westminster dining room. Because of this wonderful country of ours, right here we have a cornucopia of cultures! As Wendy and I have forged a life together, exploring the local cuisine and culture has been our passion. Whether it was loaded baked potato soup in Idaho, BBQ in Alabama, Low Country Boil in South Carolina, or homemade pastrami here in New York, these dishes literally gave us a taste. The regional accents, dress, and local idioms make every town special. It has been thrilling to see how all God’s people create a unique and wonderful life in this country. And then, of course, the historic spots around this planet—Petra in Jordan, Bodleian Library in Oxford, Tulum in Mexico, Ipanema Beach, the Pão de Açúcar, and the Corcovado in Rio—have given me a glimpse of the gift of nations which has immeasurably enriched this planet. But unity and healing, Revelation tells us, requires God making all things new. Which may mean leaving behind the wonderful cultures humanity has created, perhaps for a greater good. And yet this final vision of history has a surprising message. For the Christian view of the afterlife has a particular character not shared by other world religions, for example, Buddhism. The Buddhist strives for an absolute release from want and desire leading to  Nirvana , in which the individual becomes something like a drop of water finding its home back in the ocean. Certain attachments—even the attachment to your own personhood—are part of the process of escaping  Samsara , the wheel of woe. In the Christian vision, rather than returning to a collective of sorts, the uniqueness and personhood of the individual continues. But it’s not only people that continue. An intriguing phrase, seemingly without much consequence, caught my attention in our reading: “ …and the leaves of the tree [of life] are for the healing of the nations.” The end of history is not the obliteration of distinct identities, but their perfection. This makes heaven a much more interesting place. This was promised in the Old Testament, “ All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord, and all the families of the nations shall worship before you. ” Psalm 22:27–28 The promise to make all things new does not mean what it appears. Rather than the Greek word  neos , the author uses  kainos .  Kainos  is not newness from nothing, but renewal and perfection. This comes through the Tree of Life. John tells us it produces twelve different types of fruit, one each month—the celestial version of the fruit-of-the-month club. With perpetual variety and nourishment, the nations will “turn over a new leaf.” Isaiah’s prophecy so many thousands of years before is fulfilled, “ …and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.”  Isaiah 2 But continue they shall, at least in the form of their distinctive cultures and gifts to humanity. They will no longer compete for resources, will no longer see one another as the enemy or inferior; they will celebrate and rejoice in their own uniqueness while being enriched by others. I’ve begun to make my list of what I would love to perfect during my time, God willing, in heaven: the pleasure of reading lovely Chinese calligraphy, listening to transcendent European music, speaking the exquisite language of Portuguese while feasting on spicy Ethiopian cuisine. The more I learn of the history and traditions of other peoples, the more I am amazed at God and deeply saddened at how tragically we have turned this gift into war. Yet I am confident, and I trust and believe in these words of Revelation, that the leaves of the Tree of Life will heal the nations. Amen.

Shared during Sunday Worship on May 25, 2025. Heavenly Father we thank you for all that is good in our lives: for our daily food and drink, our homes and families, and for our friends. For minds to think, hearts to love, and hands to serve, we give you thanks.  For health and strength to work, for leisure to rest and play.  Hear us now, Almighty God, as we pray silently our individual prayers of Thanksgiving:   God of peace, on this Memorial Day Weekend, we pray for those who have served our nation, and especially for those who have laid down their lives to protect and defend our freedom.  And we pray for those they have left behind.  We pray for those who have fought, whose spirits, bodies, and minds have been scarred by war.  We pray for those who serve us now, especially for those in harm's way.  Shield them from danger and bring them home.  Lord, hear now our silent prayers of intercession:   We pray to you, the Maker of Heaven and Earth, for this congregation, for those who are present, and for those who are absent.  Wherever we wander in your spacious world, teach us that we may never journey beyond your loving care.  To you, the Healer and Head of the Church, we pray for ourselves; for the forgiveness of our sins, and for the grace of the Holy Spirit to amend our lives.  We pray for our families, friends, and neighbors; that, being freed from anxiety, we may live in love, joy, peace, and health.  Lord, hear our silent prayers of petition:   Oh Lord, may the peace you left us, the peace you gave us, be the peace that sustains us and the peace that saves us.  Amen.

Revelation 21:1-8 Revelation is the culmination of the entire Bible. So, its message is critical for understanding what happens when we die. Does it depend upon good works, faith, or some arcane formula combining the two? Is it heaven or hell?  Certainly, there are many passages that indicate an eternity of suffering: “And they [devil, beast, false prophet] will be tormented day and night forever.” - Revelation 20:10 “And anyone whose name was not found written in the book of life was thrown into the lake of fire.”  - Revelation 20:15 “But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”  - Revelation 21:8 It’s this last one that’s the hardest to hear. As far as I can tell, I am not the devil, the beast, or the false prophet—nor is anyone I know. But surely all of us at times have been cowardly, faithless, and liars. Furthermore, Revelation isn’t the only book that speaks of the horrors of hell: “They will be punished with everlasting destruction and shut out from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of his might.”  - 2 Thessalonians 1:9 “They will throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”  - Matthew 13:42 “And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”  - Matthew 25:46 Don’t let the last one fool you. Yes, it says the righteous go into eternal life, but clearly in many other places the Bible tells us nobody is righteous—not even one! It would be a critical mistake to take any of these images literally. As we shall see, they are incompatible with other portions of scripture that indicate a generous and merciful God: “After this there was a great multitude no one could count…”  - Revelation 7:9 “As all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ.”  - 1 Corinthians 15:22 “…we have our hope set on the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of those who believe.”  - 1 Timothy 4:10 “I did not come to judge the world but to save the world.”  - John 12:47 “God our Savior… desires all to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.”  - 1 Timothy 2:3–6 We have these diametrically opposed passages of scripture. One that seems very clear: everybody goes to heaven. Another set seems very clear: there are people who will suffer for eternity. To reconcile these opposing texts, we first need to admit that the Bible uses a considerable amount of poetic license to make a point. To try to simply take them at face value will lead us into problematic conclusions that simply make no rational sense. The Bible employs literary techniques such as hyperbole to drive home its message. Last week, when we addressed Revelation, we concluded its summation is “ all are welcome in God’s kingdom .” Granted, that feels like a soft-pedaling of the gospel—after all, Jesus told us we have to take up our cross daily and follow. So today we will refine the concept. The insight comes from Jesus in the parable of the wedding banquet. Jesus tells the story of a king who prepares a grand feast, sends his servant to invite scores of guests to fill the table. But they make excuses and refuse to come, so the king commands the servant to gather people from the street corners—and this is critical— the good and the bad,  and so the table is filled. Jesus began the parable by saying, “ The kingdom of heaven is like… ” In this metaphor of heaven, all indeed are welcome, but that doesn’t mean everyone is wise enough to show up. It is the same in the parable of the prodigal son. The prodigal son, who wasted his father’s money and squandered it in dissolute living, comes to his senses, and upon returning home receives a grand feast. But the elder son was so incensed he stayed outside. That was his conscious choice.  Jesus’ parable suggests the hell is not a place that we are sent to, but it is the place we occupy when we refuse to enter into heaven. C.S. Lewis drew on this concept in his work  The Great Divorce.  In this fantasy book, Lewis imagines that hell is a place in which the residents are wispy apparitions—ghosts who become more and more translucent and immaterial as they draw further and further away from God. On occasion they might find themselves drawn to heaven enough that they embark on a bus ride and land next to a beautiful valley representing heaven. But sadly,many of them refuse to go in, for they refuse to give up their pride, their petty thoughts, and their grudges they have developed in life. In this way hell is not a place that God sends you to; it is a self-imposed exile from the presence of God. But on occasion there is a ghostly apparition that finally manages to let go and at that point they are transformed into a spirit of light and enter the beauty of the glorious valley of heaven. Lewis’ vision of hell and heaven reflects the vision of the heavenly city. It tells us the gates of the heavenly city are never shut, implying that it is never too late to enter heaven.  But it is important to note that going from hell to heaven is not easy. Submitting to God as Lord of our lives means giving up a lot of personal freedom. This is where today’s sermon becomes a faith lesson for each of us that will impact our life right now. The Mission,  starring Robert De Niro, is a powerful movie in which his character Rodrigo Mendoza, a slave trader, murders his brother out of jealousy and finds himself in prison. Filled with depression and self-loathing, a Jesuit Priest played by Jeremy Irons offers him a path of penance and repentance—drag a bundle of armor and weapons up the Iguacu Falls to the Guarani people—the very people he had enslaved. They cut away his burden, symbolic of forgiveness, which transforms his soul from one of agony and shame to release a sense of self-acceptance and purpose. Eventually he sacrifices his own life to seek to protect the very people he had enslaved years before. Normally we think of repentance as only possible in this life. C.S.Lewis’ works seems to suggest the opportunity is always before us. People often wonder if those who have committed horrific acts in this life and never hinted at any repentance can possibly enter into heaven.  The answer is a clear yes. Jesus tells us with God all things are possible. But the hardest part of moving from hell to heaven is the need to face the truth about ourselves. In heaven truth is perfectly clear. In the presence of God self-deception is no longer possible.  Thus, the question for those who have committed horrific acts is not, “ Can they enter into heaven? ” but “ Will they? ” Will they ever have the courage, like Robert Mendoza—to truly face what they have done. Because to do so, for Hitler or Pol Pot, would suddenly be to know the agony, the torture of every person they harmed. And it will require realizing how much they harmed God’s heart. There will be no getting around the full force of this harm. Through seeing the truth in full force, in some ways it means they will experience everything they have done to others to the same measure.   It is hard for us to imagine wanting to be in a place—even if it is heaven—in which people who have committed such awful acts reside. And yet, Lewis’ insight into this matter is convincing,  “ That is what mortals misunderstand. They say of some temporal suffering, "No future bliss can make up for it" not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory .” ―C.S. Lewis,  The Great Divorce And 2 Peter tells us that this is God’s hope for everyone: “ The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.” - 2 Peter 3:8-9 Heaven and hell are not places that God sends us to, they are places we can choose to enter in, and thanks be to God for eternity is an awful long time to resist God. Amen.

Shared during Sunday Worship on May 11, 2025. God, Giver of all good things, we thank You for creating our world and everything in it. We stand in awe of You for the sun that shines, the river that flows, the sea that billows, the birds, the bees, the flowers, and for us, humans. Forgive us, God, that we seldom pause to acknowledge the beauty and blessedness that surround us. Help people everywhere to pursue peace with humans and non-humans alike, honoring the sacredness of the universe and all the things You have made.  God of our households, thank You for our families, friends, and neighbours and for the ways in which they pour into our lives. On this day, we thank You for mothers, biological and non-biological – for their giving hearts, hearty smiles, and nurturing spirits. Thank You for being their sufficiency, even when they feel inadequate or come up short. Show us, God, how we may give back to them today, so that they may be all You made them to be.  God of our ancestors, we thank You for the ministry and mission of the Brick Church through the centuries and for how its faithful witness continues today. Open our eyes to fully see the legacy of our forebears and the ways You have called us to build upon it. Receive our highest praise for all generations in our community and the gifts they bring. Almighty God, we specially ask that You remember our youth and young adults and bless them with yearnings and ministries that will resound across this city and our world. You are doing a new thing, God, and we trust You to fully fulfil it. We pray these in Jesus’ name, with gratitude for Your continued presence with all who need You today.  Amen.

Revelation 7:4, 9-17 I want to share what is weighing on my heart. I am worried—worried about the fracturing of our global sense of common humanity. That whoever we are, whatever our beliefs, whatever our background—we are all one people. That fundamental truth has eroded over the past few decades, and it is leading people to huddle together out of a sense of self-protection. But tragically, it will create an even greater sense of mistrust and fear. It might be overly dramatic, but it seems to me the lectionary has once again landed us in the place in the Bible precisely where we need to be: the book of Revelation. Not because I believe we are at the end of the world—I don’t—but because it too dealt with a moment of profound historical significance. And I think, in ways that we’re not always aware, it exposed the raw pain of God. Consider the violence this world has wrought across history, and how painful that must be for a God of love. The most tragic and powerful description of this evil is found in Elie Wiesel’s book  Night . It is a memoir written by the Holocaust survivor about his family’s journey from Transylvania to the concentration camps. The forces he faced were so malevolent that they obliterated his faith. He wrote that the fires of those concentration camps had consumed his belief in God. I don’t think God was angered by Wiesel’s words. On the contrary, I think God felt the pain of this man’s agony. One cannot answer Wiesel’s broken spirit with simple aphorisms and talk of rainbows. But in the introduction to the book, there is an extremely powerful encounter between Wiesel and a renowned journalist. François Mauriac, a devout Christian, recounted his first meeting with Wiesel. At the time, Mauriac was old, respected, and famous. Wiesel was a young twenty-something being interviewed by this Nobel Laureate. Mauriac spoke of his respect for Jewish people—especially Jesus of Nazareth. At this point, the conversation turned. Wiesel became upset with Mauriac—understandably—for Christianity’s historic complicity in fostering hatred of the Jews. Wiesel walked out, but Mauriac followed him—not to scold him, but to plead with him to tell his story, to tell the story of the Holocaust. Mauriac couldn’t find words of comfort to offer (are there any such words?). Mauriac wrote, “ I could only embrace him, weeping .” Wiesel, too, wept—and then went on to revise and complete this most powerful book that recounted his unending night. I believe Mauriac chose the right path: not to speak, but to embrace. It was the most authentic reflection of God’s love in the moment. It was a similar historic moment of profound evil that Christians, Jews, and many others faced through the Roman Empire. And since John was not only telling the story—disguised though it was—of the evil of the Roman Empire, but of the kind of evil perpetrated by the Nazis, and the enslavement of African peoples, and the obliteration of those in Pol Pot’s killing fields… What kind of story, what type of literature, would be equal to this task? A grandiloquent, operatic, mystical, mythical epic. The characters, creatures, and setting would need to be of a sufficient size and scope to be equal to the adversaries to be vanquished. Anything less would do a severe disservice to the climax of history—just as Mauriac would have done a disservice to Wiesel to dismiss his pain with an, albeit truthful but facile, Christian response, “ Jesus will fix it all .” The book of Revelation is John’s version of a Picasso, Salvador Dalí, or some other surrealist, cubist, allegorical artist—and his way of addressing, with integrity, the defeat of evil. It must convey the deep anguish and struggle within the heart of God for how profoundly awry His most glorious creation has turned. And so, in the book of Revelation, we have the scenes of terror: in which the stars are falling from the heavens, in which the Red Dragon looms over the woman with a golden sun, in which the Beast and Babylon rear their heads of domination and power. None of this is literal. It is a Picasso-type interpretation—not of the future—but of the evil that John’s world knew all too well. But just like the story of Holy Week, which includes heartbreak and fearful moments yet is a story of Good News—so is Revelation. For it is the story of the triumph of God. That is the precise story that our scripture reading gives to us this morning. Throughout Revelation, John inserts glimpses of the closing credits of the Bible into the earlier chapters. To give his readers sufficient hope, John gives his readers a glimpse not simply of heaven—but the throne room of God. And his messages are extremely pertinent to the times in which we find ourselves. First, he tells of the salvation of the Jewish people, “ And there were sealed an hundred and forty and four thousand of all the tribes of the children of Israel .” He proceeds to name every tribe, telling us 12,000 will come in from each one of them. 12 x 12,000 = 144,000. Like the whole rest of the book, these are not literal numbers. Twelve symbolized completeness in Jewish thought. 12,000 × 12 is meant to convey that every single one of God’s chosen people will be ushered into heaven. This is one of the most easily identifiable facts teased out of the images found in this book. And then he continues, “ After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb .” John is affirming what we read in the twelfth chapter of Genesis—that through Abraham and Sarah’s descendant, all the world will be blessed. Their descendant, Jesus of Nazareth—His death and resurrection—fulfilled this promise. John makes a point that this is not a narrow group of people, but—as he said—a great multitude that nobody could count. And furthermore, it’s not just a lot of people from one group or another, but he tells us: every nation, every language, every people are there before the throne. The center of the Christian hope is the belief that God reaches out to every group of people. And I think therein lies the answer to the fundamental problem of our time. And the problem is not of recent creation; we cannot blame it all on this administration or the one before it. It is something that has been building and festering for years. Last week at communion, I shared something of my visit to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. My great-grandfather went through Ellis Island, and I imagine many of your relatives did as well. And I continue to think about that—what it must’ve been like to ride on those steamer ships, crammed in like sardines, with just a suitcase. Some of the stories we heard at the Ellis Island tour were very, very difficult—just as the times that John’s readers were facing were very, very difficult. But to finally see the statue in the harbor—a symbol of freedom and hope—must have been a moment of exceeding joy. That is what I think we all want our country to stand for. The heavenly throne room which John portrays is meant to convey the same sense of hope—but not just a hope for a particular person, at a particular point in time, in a particular country. Revelation is the cosmic-size, operatic drama describing not just the defeat of Rome—or any other empire—but the defeat of evil itself. The defeat of everything that defies the will of God. Last week in my office, about twenty clergy from the Upper East Side gathered together. There were Catholics, Jews, and Protestants; men and women; Latinos, African Americans, and Anglos. We met because we believed that now is the time to gather with people of faith and to let our voices be heard—that we want the Upper East Side, that we want our city, that we want our country, that we want our planet to be one that has a heart for the dispossessed, the hungry, and the fearful. And from my Christian perspective, we want them to know that Jesus loves them. That the message of Revelation is: yes, there is real evil and hardship on this earth—but that ultimately, the gates of heaven are open wide. This is a rather complex and complicated message to get across. What, then, is the message of Brick Church in this moment that we can glean from John’s Revelation? I struggled with this, and then—oh, bless the Lord—the message was hand-delivered to me last week by Ms. Fabian, Director of the Brick Church School. It came from one of the school classes, addressed to her. She wanted me to read it, and I’m going to read it to you now:  (see message on page 4) It was the center of Jesus’ message. This is what He gave His life for. All are welcome. All are welcome. That is the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Hull strawberries on May 16th, bake shortcakes on May 17th, and help with hot dogs, setup, serving, and kids' activities on May 18th 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!

Want to brighten someone's day? Lend a hand at Search & Care, a vital neighborhood organization dedicated to helping older adults live at home. S&C seeks volunteers to answer phones and greet visitors for 2-4 hours weekly – a commitment that brings immense joy and support to S&C’s community. Please contact Robin Strashun at  strashun@searchandcare.org   or call 212-289-5300.

Psalm 19:1-6 “The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows forth his handiwork.” Psalm 19:1 ​Today Jesus entered into Jerusalem to the accolade, “ Hosanna to the Son of David .” It was a momentous event, a day that will always be remembered for its joy and clarity in which people saw God. But we don’t have to see Jesus riding on a donkey to see God. That is the message of Psalm 19. God can be seen and known in the heavens. Furthermore, we should have the same exultant adulation that the crowd had upon visibly seeing God in the flesh each and every day of our lives. As the Apostle Paul has told us in Romans, “ Ever since the creation of the world His eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things He has made .” In his letter to the Romans, Paul isn’t arguing that everybody should immediately understand Christian theology. He is acknowledging that through nature humans throughout history have had access to understanding something of the grandeur, the holiness, and the morality of the Divine. Rather than relying on theologians or poets, today we will turn to those who understand nature the best—the greatest scientists the world has ever known. We will see that throughout history, but mostly focused on the modern times, how it was these scientists saw the divine handprints in their discoveries. Far from an inherent conflict between science and religion, both have mutually edified the other. Certainly, there have been episodic conflicts between the two. But the thoughts that we will hear from these scientists leave no doubt in my mind of the truth of our theme verse that “ the heavens declare the glory of God !” In fact, even the term "scientist" is of recent origin, coined in 1834. People like Sir Francis Bacon and Sir Isaac Newton were never referred to as scientists but actually naturalphilosophers—because it was precisely thought that they weren’t simply discovering facts and laws about how nature behaved, but they were discovering deep truths with profound implications about the nature of the Creator. Perhaps the most ancient account of natural philosophy comes from Plato’s work  Timaeus . One scholar observed: The text argues for the necessity of a divine craftsman, who rationally constructed the cosmos out of pre-existing chaos (Timaeus 27d–30c). In the Laws, in answer to the question as to what arguments justify faith in the gods, Plato affirms: ‘One is our dogma about the soul... the other is our dogma concerning the ordering of the motion of the stars.’ In ancient times especially, the wonder and power of God were seen in the motions of the planets and the stability of the stars. It is hard to overestimate the extent to which gazing at the heavens and discerning its movements brought faith to those of ancient scientific bent. We know that ancient mathematician Pythagoras had something of a religious cult that revolved around the wonders of numbers. While we may take issue with his theology, he clearly used analytical exploration to discover God. “ Number is the ruler of forms and ideas, and the cause of gods and demons .” —Pythagoras Pythagoras recognized common mathematical principles present not only in the movement of the planets but in the harmonies of music. For Pythagoras, these connections were a sign of the work of the Divine. He said, “ There is geometry in the humming of the strings, there is music in the spacing of the spheres .” It was the purity and perfection of numbers that were present in music and the movement of the planets that for him could only come from something as pure and perfect as God. Fast forward to the 17th century into a Judeo-Christian world when modern science gained its footing and the great advances in technology began. John Ray, an English naturalist, explained his motivation for his scientific exploration, which matched that of many of the natural philosophers of his time, “ To illustrate the glory of God in the knowledge of the works of nature or creation .” In the early years of the 1600s, modern science was essentially created by Sir Francis Bacon—or at least the scientific method, which is still relied upon today; the very approach which makes scientific inquiry so fantastically successful. Bacon did acknowledge that science can lead one to doubt, but he didn’t stop there, “ A little philosophy inclineth man's mind to atheism, but depth in philosophy bringeth men's minds about to religion… Science, when it has been properly understood, does not oppose religion, but rather confirms and supports it .” As we can see, in Bacon’s time there was already some struggle between science and religion, but the inventor of modern science is edified by his investigations. Since we have seen that there is no essential or necessary conflict between science and religion, we will now dig deeper into precisely how it is that the heavens disclose the glory of God—by listening to these greatest scientists ever. Isaac Newton, depending upon your ranking, is either the first or second greatest scientist to have ever lived. He discovered gravity and invented calculus so that he could properly understand the movement of the stars and the orbits of the planets. I was a math major and I can barely understand calculus. I can’t imagine having the kind of mind that could invent it! It was that very mind, in the depths of the greatest scientific discoveries up to his time, who wrote, “ This most beautiful system of the sun, planets, and comets could only proceed from the counsel and dominion of an intelligent and powerful Being .” Scientists have an innate love of simplicity and orderliness; they find great beauty in such systems, and it creates a feeling of awe and even reverence. This is why Newton, in discovering more than any other human ever the connection between nature and mathematics, realized God’s power and profound intelligence. Newton, as did others, sees in nature’s mathematical laws, orderliness, and predictability the imprints of God’s character. If you were to enter somebody’s house and find clothes lying around, dishes in the sink, and bills piled up (in other words, if you had ever seen my college dorm room), you would rightly conclude that a slob lived there— inattentive to details and at the time uncaring. If you were to visit the church manse, you would find an orderly place not only with mathematical precision but with elegance; the paintings and the pictures are hung just so; the colors of the walls enhance the space… even the light fixtures lend to it being a home. You would then clearly conclude that there was somebody—who is definitely not me—who is behind it. Wendy! In the same way, when Isaac Newton and others entered into the laws of nature with her orderliness, simplicity, and complexity, they could not help but see the beauty of God in it—an unmatchable mind, aesthetic sense unparalleled, and a Creator who loves and adores their creation. Despite Newton’s titanic prowess, even he realized the limits of scientific knowledge, “ Gravity explains the motions of the planets, but it cannot explain who sets the planets in motion. ” Nature is so confounding because it’s both very comprehensible—its mathematical precision demonstrates to us that God is rational because creation is rational—but at the same time, nature can never be wholly grasped, never completely understood; there is always more to know, just like there is always more to know about God. These truths show us that God is both immanent (that is, close by) and transcendent (that is, utterly, infinitely greater than us). The life-giving power of the Earth shows God’s goodness and generosity in that the Earth provides for all of our needs. The predictability of the rising of the sun, of the seasons, and all the laws of nature demonstrate the steadfast faithfulness of God. It is not as if one day gravity works and the next day it’s broken—like the elevator or the subway! The wonderful creatures show us that God finds joy in the dazzling array of diversity. The process of evolution, with its unfolding and revealing new species and new adaptations, shows us that God appreciates discovery and newness. The DNA molecule shows us that all life is connected to each other, that we all have a common source. There is a remarkable oneness to all life, so that we might be at one with each other even as God wants us to be at one with Him. For these scientists, the mathematical beauty, the orderliness, the simplicity and complexity could not help but point to a divine origin. Listen to these quotes: “ The more I study science, the more I believe in God… I want to know God’s thoughts; the rest are details .” —Albert Einstein “ The first gulp from the glass of natural sciences will make you an atheist, but at the bottom of the glass God is waiting for you .”—Werner Heisenberg, Uncertainty Principle “ The great and wonderful power of God in nature is seen in His works and the harmony of the universe… The first cause of all motion, is the power of God, which moves all things. ”—Robert Boyle, founder of modern chemistry “ I have looked into most philosophical systems and I have seen that none will work without the foundation of God .” —James Clerk Maxwell (voted third greatest physicist of all time, and Presbyterian elder) In the mathematical precision of the universe, in the stunning beauty of a sunset, in the playful joy of a puppy, and the dazzling colors of the flowers—we can see God. May all of our days be filled with  hosannas —joyous shouts of thanksgiving to our God. Amen.