Submit by April 15th The Women's Association is collecting donations ($30 suggested), to purchase Easter Lilies for the Sanctuary. Make your donation to be included in the Order of Worship on Easter Sunday.

It's time to spring forward on Sunday, March 9th! Don't forget to set your clocks forward one hour before bedtime Saturday evening. Spring a head and arrive at Church fresh and renewed.

Matthew 11:18-19, 25-30 “Speak to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.” - Ephesians 5:19 NKJV Today’s sermon is more of a story. It is 100% true, and it shows the power of music that God has used to great effect—not so much at times to teach us something, but so that we might encounter the eternal. Not simply to talk about peace and harmony, but to be struck, as by a meteor. The word that most accurately describes the event is  shalom.  It is a Hebrew word easily translated as  peace,  but it has many more layers. It encapsulates a universal harmony, the web of mutuality that Dr. King spoke of, the peace of all life that Isaiah dreamed about, the joy of human love shared without boundaries, and ultimately, our perfect union with God. There is a song this week, but rather than analyze it, we will make a journey. There are times when a song transcends the meaning of the lyrics and its author. At this moment, you see not only the hand of the writer and singer but the hand of God. I want to share with you just such a moment. But first, let’s set the stage through today’s text, which makes clear that Jesus spent a great deal of time with the so-called “sinners and tax collectors.” And in today’s lesson, He invites us as well,  "Come to me, all that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." But Jesus doesn’t leave it at that. It is not only physical. He levels it up,  "…rest to your souls." Jesus recognized that whether we are rich or poor, this world at times offers more than we can handle. Youth can become particularly susceptible to this vortex of purposelessness, as they are often forced to spend all their time in school on their own future. They become bored with such a self-centered life. But the mission work they do from churches around the country relieves the burdens of others, making them Christ’s hands and feet, giving others His rest and comfort. They have: Packed endless meals for the hungry. Brought together endless supplies for the homeless. Raised millions for disadvantaged children. Hammered untold nails to fix houses. They get it! Such work helps us believe—believe in goodness, believe in God. It helps us to feel we are a part of something greater than our own immediate problems. John Polkinghorne devoted his life to thinking about the place where science and religion meet. He wrote: "Despite the strangeness, bitterness, and incompleteness of this present life, human beings do not give way to despair. In the human heart, there is something that responds to the conviction expressed so powerfully by Julian of Norwich, that in the end, 'all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.'” And 20 years ago, I felt the power of Julian of Norwich’s words more profoundly and clearly than I ever had before in my life. For a moment, the sense of God’s power and love and sovereignty was completely clear to me, without even a shadow of a doubt in my heart. New York City is such an enthralling place because it is such a juxtaposition of all of humanity—the most noble virtues, the worst vices. Some of the wealthiest and most famous, and some of the most impoverished, destitute, and disturbed. In 2003, I saw it all. Jesus’ mission always called for others to come alongside Him. And that week, He took me and a dozen youth on a mission trip from Buffalo to New York. For seven days, we had an absolutely clear purpose: to help Christ free the burdens of those on the streets, to give them rest. But our burden was lifted even higher. We stayed at the church of my childhood, Broadway Presbyterian Church. I had not been there for 25 years, but I remembered the fellowship hall that I raced my brothers in, the bell tower that I climbed to the top of (without my mother’s permission), and the pews I crawled under (while my mother was out of reach in the pulpit!). They had a shelter in the basement, and the youth sat down with these folk and just listened to their stories and endless opinions on politics. They willingly shared their deepest pain and sometimes shameful experiences with an honesty and openness rarely found in this world. As we were exiting the building, we ran into Jerry Seinfeld! "Cool shades,"  he said to two of our youth! They seized the opportunity and had their picture taken with him! It was a thrill, but ultimately, I think they were more captivated by Austin—a man formerly from the street. One night, we assisted in Midnight Run, a ministry that feeds the homeless. We were asked to make sandwiches to deliver on the streets and be ready at 10:30 p.m. to go out. After we assembled 130 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, we were picked up by Austin. Austin looked like he fell out of an overpacked suitcase and wielded an Irish shillelagh, which we mistakenly called a cane, but he spoke like a professor of American cultural idiosyncrasies. Now sleeping in a warm and cozy home, he devoted his life to helping those still on the streets. We drove by The Met just as a performance had ended and saw some of the most exquisite dresses ever made by human hands. Two blocks later, we opened the back of the vans and proceeded to hand out clothes and food to those hidden in the dark corners of that neighborhood. The juxtaposition of such wealth and such poverty right next door to each other was not lost on our youth, who were struck hard by it. Later, we stopped outside Central Park when, for a moment, we saw Christ’s dream come true. It was 1:30 in the morning, and it was by far the busiest stop of the night. In fact, one passerby called the police because he thought a fight had broken out from the rush of people. A score of police showed up on the scene in moments. But they quickly saw that nothing problematic was taking place. Rather than a fight, it was a conglomeration of my Buffalo youth and the homeless sharing a glass of lemonade, trading jokes, and enjoying the beauty of the night. But there was one woman who stood out. She hated the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and was dissatisfied with the selection of clothes—the only grumpy one in the bunch. But as we were getting ready to leave, she pulled us back and asked her friend on the street, John, to play us a song. He wore those round rainbow glasses, so he resembled John Lennon, and we expected a Beatles song. As he tuned his guitar, we began to wonder if he could really play, since he seemed to be using the tuning as a delay tactic. Soon, everyone nearby gathered to listen—there must have been about forty people. The pressure mounted, and it seemed his tuning wouldn’t stop. Then, he began to play. That’s when it happened. Suddenly, that woman was transformed. She wore an expression you mostly only see on the faces of children. It was the face of pure delight. I think she was crabby because she had been tired of always receiving, and she knew she could not give us anything material. But now, she smiled, knowing that they were giving us something special. As I recall the moment, it is the moon that I remember. It was dazzling, ancient, enthralling. Full and bright, it floated through the trees. A faint crispy rustling sound—leaves rubbing against each other as a gentle breeze billowed across branches. John treated us to a beautiful song with a beautiful message. Something happened to us, tied us together.  Shalom  is the only word that can capture it. The kingdom of God happened right there, on that street corner in New York City, when we experienced that soul rest Jesus promised. But it was a song by another Beatle—George Harrison—that John from the streets made his own that day.   Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth) (George Harrison) Give me love. Give me love Give me peace on earth Give me light. Give me life Keep me free from birth Give me hope. Help me cope With this heavy load Trying to touch and reach you with Heart and soul O . . . my Lord . . . PLEASE take hold of my hand That I might understand you Won't you please? Oh, won't you…

Shared during Sunday Worship on February 16, 2024. God, our Mother and Father, through the newly baptised children we reaffirm Your sovereignty and acknowledge You as the source of the universe and everything in it. We extol You for the sound of children at Brick and for the families from which these children come. We also thank You, God, that through us all You are spreading Your love, a beacon of hope, in our midst and in the world outside. For deeming us worthy of Your good work, we praise today.  ​God of Love, using Brick’s children as a point of contact, we bring before You children in all places. Some of the world’s children live in hardship, deprivation, and instability, and for them, we seek Your delivering touch. You care for the sparrow and water the crops, hear our intercession and preserve the lives of children in want, pain, or peril.  ​All-powerful God, we acknowledge the role of good governance in protecting children and securing the peace of societies. So, we lift up governments across the globe before You, asking that You steer them towards godly and sustainable choices. Inspire them, God, to rule in absolute humility and with lives at heart. When they sidestep Your will, work through the world’s peoples to bring them back to the heart of Your purpose. Hear our prayer for Your rule on earth, O God.  ​Redeemer and Friend, we invite You to walk alongside all who are afraid, unwell, or lonely at this time. Help them remember that they, like all God’s children, are engraved in the palm of Your hand. As we thank You for today’s comforting word, we ask that You make us channels of comfort and healing for those despairing in our circles and communities today. In Christ’s name, we pray. Amen!

Jeremiah 31:31-34  “Speak to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.” - Ephesians 5:19 NKJV   A little over a year after the Beatles broke up, Lennon recorded “Imagine” in a single session at his and Ono’s country estate….l ines  such as,  “Imagine all the people/ sharing all the world,”  embodied a radical utopian vision as well as the desire of Lennon and many others for an end to the Vietnam War and a return to the optimistic humanism that had defined much of the previous decade. (History Channel) Listening to John Lennon’s "Imagine" can be profoundly therapeutic. His gentle voice and simple vocals allow the words to play a very prominent role in this song.  Every  time I listen to it and I hear that word "imagine," I feel yearning inside for the kind of world he describes. There are particular phrases that especially stand out: "All the people living for today…" "All the people sharing all the world…" "All the people living life in peace…" "I hope you join us, and the world will be as one…" Some of this can be found right here in the city. If you wander through Strawberry Fields , that memorial to John Lennon in Central Park, you’ll come across one word: "Imagine." And it’s easy to imagine the world Lennon is singing about as being something real, because when you’re there in Central Park, it’s all coming true. You can see what Lennon is singing about. People living for today. They are enjoying picnics, they’re doing karate lessons, they’re playing basketball, they’re having family gatherings, and children are being entertained in a circle by folk singers. And people are running. In Central Park, the folks running are world-class athletes clicking off multiple six-mile laps like it’s a stroll in the park, as well as schmucks like me huffing and puffing with every step. And it doesn’t matter—it’s not a competition. Central Park is a remarkable place because, unlike other places in the city, I rarely hear people yelling! The sense of sharing the world and being one that Lennon sang about is truly happening there. But, of course, we don’t live in Central Park, and when we step outside of it, we can see some of the devastating, debilitating, and depressing problems that the world faces. What spurred Lennon to imagine a certain kind of world was the reality that, most of the time, the one in which we live is anything but what he sings about. “On December 5, 1980, John Lennon gave his final interview. Looking back on his seminal song, he said: “We’re not the first to say ‘Imagine no countries’ or ‘Give peace a chance,’ but we’re carrying that torch, like the Olympic torch, passing it hand to hand, to each other, to each country, to each generation… We should be talking about violence in society.”” And he is right. We should be talking about violence in society, especially followers of Jesus, since we know it is utterly antithetical to His will. According to the United Nations, 52 lives are violently taken every hour of every day—that means almost 500,000 lives were stolen last year. This doesn’t even count those lost in war. But it is so commonplace that we are inured to the horrific reality of just how far this planet is from what God envisioned when it was created. It was an Eden, a paradise. It is hard to think about. It is hard to watch the news. It is hard to keep our hearts open to those feeling the excruciating pain of those whose loved ones’ lives have tragically been cut short. Lennon’s song offers one solution: Imagine there's no countries It isn't hard to do  Nothing to kill or die for  And no religion, too.   As you can imagine, I take exception to these particular lines. Whereas Lennon expresses, poignantly and powerfully, a deep-seated hope, ultimately it is a naïve solution, perhaps one crafted by a child’s mind. Now, I don't believe that Lennon was naïve or childish, at least no more than the rest of us. He’s pointing out very real issues that arise from government and religion. They can become idols. And when they do, the results can be catastrophic. Over the course of history, sadly, there are far too many examples: the empire of Rome from so long ago and Nazi Germany just a few decades past. The ideal government is by the people and for the people. And the idea of religion is similar. Perhaps Jesus and Lennon would have agreed on some of the problems of religion. One of the primary reasons Jesus was crucified was because of His mission to rehabilitate the distortions that happened with the faithful people in His time. He fought back against the purity codes and the religious structures that enforced them. We see this most clearly when He healed somebody on the Sabbath, and He got in trouble from the religious authorities. His pointed retort is most illuminating:  “Was humanity made for the Sabbath or the Sabbath made for humanity?!” And the tragic truth is that both Jesus and Lennon were killed because of religion. Lennon’s hope for a world without religion made sense from his perspective.  His  killer, Mark Chapman, in part gunned him down in cold blood because he was  "angry at (Lennon) for saying (in the song 'God') that he didn't believe in God, that he just believed in him and Yoko, and that he didn't believe in the Beatles." (Source:  The Vibes ) On the next lyric,  “Nothing to kill or die for,”  Jesus would stand in greater opposition. At first, Lennon’s notion sounds appealing. It would mean no more murders, no more violent deaths. But it also means the abandonment of purpose. Certainly, Lennon’s tragic murder underscores his wisdom in wanting nothing to kill or die for, but for Jesus, it was his plan. It began with an utter commitment to achieving peace through peaceful means. Jesus, who not only preached peace but told Peter to put away the sword  at  His arrest.Jesus, who refused to return violence with violence.Jesus, who commanded us to turn the other cheek when struck. It is what sets Jesus apart. He didn’t simply imagine a better world; He gave his life for it. And it was His very willingness to die for this that has offered us all hope ever since. That ancient theologian Tertullian captured the power of Jesus’ sacrifice when he wrote, “ The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church. ” And ever since, people’s willingness to give everything has given people hope that true peace will someday come. There is a remarkable tribute to modern martyrs above the entrance to Westminster Abbey at the Great West Door. On a trip, my son Matthew and I were captivated by the façade, into which are carved ten statues of those who gave their lives for the cause of Christ. Listen to a few: Wang Zhiming, Christian pastor and martyr to the Cultural Revolution in China. Wang Zhiming was executed on December 29, 1973, at a mass rally of more than 10,000 people. Between 1966 and 1976, the Cultural Revolution brought an onslaught against all that was ancient or venerated in Chinese life. The young Red Guards who led the campaign sought to break free of the past and to create a revolutionary society that was utterly new.  Religion must be destroyed.  Churches were closed, and Christians were forced to meet secretly. (Source:  Westminster Abbey ) An eerie echo to Lennon’s plan, and it shows the  naïveté  of just such a hope.  Imagining no religion very quickly and violently becomes  “Religion must be destroyed.” “There has never been a time in Christian history when someone, somewhere, has not died rather than compromise with the powers of oppression, tyranny, and unbelief,”  the Rev. Dr. Anthony Harvey, sub-dean of Westminster. Because Lennon didn’t believe in God, he didn’t believe in religion. But it is precisely because we believe in God that we need religion. Religion serves to offer us structure, connects us to people of the past, and places us in a community that both supports and challenges us. The religious community helps us confront our own biases and self-rationalizations. Religion reminds us that we are not the center of the world, that we’re not the wisest people on the planet, and that we need others to help us understand the truth. But most of all, ultimately ,  religion enables us to experience the presence of God more powerfully through being connected to other people. This is what Lennon missed—the goal isn’t religion; it is a means to connect to the source of all things. It isn’t so much about belief and doctrines but about encountering the Holy . New York Times columnist David Brooks discovered just that. At a younger age, as an agnostic, he thought religion was all about belief and so sought to determine whether or not certain religious claims were true. But later, certain transcendent moments lit up his soul. He wrote: "When faith finally tiptoed into my life, it didn’t come through information or persuasion but, at least at first, through numinous experiences. These are the scattered moments of awe and wonder that wash over most of us unexpectedly from time to time. Looking back over the decades, I remember rare transcendent moments—at the foot of a mountain in New England at dawn, at Chartres Cathedral in France, looking at images of the distant universe or of a baby in the womb. In those moments, you have a sense that you are in the presence of something overwhelming, mysterious. Time is suspended, or at least blurs. One is enveloped by an enormous bliss." It is for this that Jesus and Wang Zhiming died. Not only for us to imagine such bliss but for it to be our destiny. So, though I don’t agree with Lennon on everything, I do think he had tapped into something core to the human experience. It is the closing lines of Lennon’s song that I think are the most compelling: You may say I'm a dreamer But I'm not the only one I hope someday you'll join us And the world will live as one. May we all dream, imagine, hope, and sacrifice when necessary to create a world of peace. Amen.     "Imagine: John Lennon Shot on His Doorstep 40 Years Ago."   The Vibes , December 8, 2020. Accessed February 5, 2025.  Westminster Abbey:  "Wang Zhiming."  Accessed February 5, 2025.

Join us in making a difference! As part of our Annual Day of Discipleship, we are hosting a toiletry drive for the New York Common Pantry. Help us meet the needs of our community by donating travel-size antiperspirant/deodorant, hair combs, toothpaste, toothbrushes, and adult socks. Please note that if you prefer, you can also contribute non-perishable food items (no glass packaging, please). Donations can be dropped off at the church until the morning of the Day of Discipleship. Together, let's extend a helping hand to those in need!

Matthew 8:18-22 and I Corinthians 4:8-13   “Speak to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.” - Ephesians 5:19 NKJV   Last week, we explored the powerful song from Aretha Franklin about respect. We found that people could simply command respect by being who God created them to be. But this week, we realize that such action inevitably leads to detractors. Perhaps for no one is this more clear than Jesus himself. He went from town to town preaching and healing, doing the work that God had called him to do. But he seemed to have constant problems with those who knew him as a young child, believing him to be impudent and overstepping his place. Several times, he is quite frustrated with others’ opinions. In fact, when his family is trying to call him away from preaching, perhaps embarrassed by his actions, Jesus refuses simply to acknowledge them. He motions to the crowd, telling them,  “Here are my mother and my brothers!” In today’s text, because of his family’s embarrassment and his hometown’s judgments, he feels out of place:  “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”  And then, a few sentences later, he utters that confusing line to the person who asked to bury his father before following Jesus:  “Let the dead bury their own dead." Countless tomes have been written trying to interpret these words from a theological point of view. However, in my mind, it’s clear: Jesus is simply frustrated and taking it out on this would-be follower. But feeling out of place did not end with Jesus. Some decades ago, Bob Dylan sang these provocative words: How does it feel? To be without a home, Like a complete unknown, Like a rolling stone. I must be honest. For decades upon decades, I never liked Bob Dylan’s music. In fact, whenever it came on the radio, I was aghast that somebody with such a grating voice had become so popular. But recently, something changed, and I don’t know how to account for it. I’ve come to truly treasure his music and be powerfully moved by his voice and his vocal interpretation.  The Times They Are a-Changin’ ,  Tangled Up in Blue , and  Hurricane  are masterpieces of music with a message. But one stands above the rest for me. In his raspy, nasally voice, when he croons out those words  “How does it feel?” , it wakes you up and leads you to consider your own sense of place in this world. The lyrics are powerful and confusing at the same time, which enables us each to consider the song from our perspective. At one point, he sings about those who have fallen on hard times: Once upon a time you dressed so fine Threw the bums a dime in your prime,  didn’t you? … Now you don’t talk so loud Now you don’t seem so proud About having to be scrounging your next meal. These words force us to powerfully consider that any success that we have can very quickly turn around on us. Our sense of pride and place based on accomplishments, possessions, or others’ opinions of us is an utter house of cards. How  does  it feel? First, hopefully, thinking about it makes us look differently at the person scrounging for their next meal or at the person who has suffered career or personal shame. It can be too easy to look on them with scorn and blame. In large part, this was the hands-on ministry of Jesus. Many people he cared for were the complete unknowns, without a home, that Dylan sang about. The lepers, the lame, the religious and social outcasts—all of them were cut off from the life of the community. Dylan forces us to confront that part of ourselves that feels superior, and Jesus shows us how to treat those having to scrounge for a scrap of respect. The song is not only about a sense of homelessness but about Dylan’s utter frustration with his sense that so many people in his world are simply fake. It is when he sings these incomprehensible lines that, at the same time, capture his anger: You used to ride on a chrome horse with your diplomat Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat. Ain’t it hard when you discovered that He really wasn’t where it’s at, After he took from you everything he could steal. Paul the apostle felt like everything had been stolen from him as well, and as a result, he felt he had no home in this world. Once he became a follower of Jesus, the people of Damascus sought to kill him. Determined he would not leave the town alive, they posted guards; he miraculously escaped by being let down the city wall in a basket at night. But Paul would not only have to avoid his fellow Jews. Many of the Christian converts, both Gentile and Jew, questioned his status as an apostle, and he constantly had to re-establish his authority as an emissary of God. Listen to his pain once again from our Corinthian text: For I think that God has exhibited us apostles as last of all, as though sentenced to death, because we have become a spectacle to the world, to angels and to mortals. We are fools for the sake of Christ, but you are wise in Christ. We are weak, but you are strong. You are held in honor, but we in disrepute. To the present hour we are hungry and thirsty, we are poorly clothed and beaten and homeless, and we grow weary from the work of our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we speak kindly. We have become like the rubbish of the world, the dregs of all things, to this very day. Rarely have so few words captured such complete despair, despondency, and desperation. This is why he yearns to go to heaven to be with God; in fact, he begs to go to heaven, to no longer be judged and reviled by people from every facet of his life. He wants to be home—not a rolling stone. Like Dylan, Paul, and Jesus, there is a sense within each one of us that we are not truly at home. And, surprisingly, at times, this can be precisely the right feeling. As Dylan wrote: When you ain’t got nothing,  you got nothing to lose. You're invisible now,  you’ve got no secrets to conceal. It is in moments at the bottom—when you’ve lost everything, feel that no one is on your side, and believe you’ve failed at life— that finally perhaps we are open to realizing the truth. This world is not our true home. We have been made for something more sublime, more complete, more authentic, more honest, more open, and more beautiful. It is a place not found on this earth; Paul knew this. Like all of us at times, he spewed his frustration, but at other times, he voiced the truth with rapturous hope, no matter what would come. Such as when he’s able to say,  “To live is Christ; to die is gain.” Once we discover our authentic self—the person that God made us to be—that’s when we are free. Truly free from the expectations of others; truly free from our own self-doubt and self-loathing; truly free to be just who you are. And then you feel at home. When Dylan first performed  Like a Rolling Stone , according to one account, his former fans were booing and yelling,  “Get rid of the electric guitar!”  As one critic wrote, many folk fans saw this as a betrayal, calling him a Judas. But for Dylan, it set him free. Dylan is not truly singing about other people. Perhaps, more than anything, the song is about himself. Biographer of Dylan, Robert Shelton, wrote:  “‘Rolling Stone’ is about the loss of innocence and the harshness of experience. Myths, props, and old beliefs fall away to reveal a very taxing reality.”  The phony people in his world frustrated him, but perhaps most troubling was his own feeling that he was not being his true self. This is what he said about the time of the song: Last spring, I guess I was going to quit singing. I was very drained, and the way things were going, it was a very draggy situation ... But Like a Rolling Stone changed it all. I mean, it was something that I myself could dig. It’s very tiring having other people tell you how much they dig you if you yourself don’t dig you. Because of his popularity with acoustic music fans, Dylan had been channeled into a particular style that he didn’t feel was authentic. Combined with the phony crowd, like Jesus, he felt like a man without a home. But this song changed all that. In fact, the words didn’t begin as a song; it was just a journal of sorts that he had started. Listen to what he had to say about them: This long piece of vomit, 20 pages long, and out of it I took Like a Rolling Stone and made it as a single. And I’d never written anything like that before, and it suddenly came to me that was what I should do ... When you realize why God has put you on this earth, you will feel a sense of place, a sense of purpose, and when the arrows of scorn fly, they cannot penetrate. There is a sense of self and confidence because you know that whatever happens on this earth and in this place, it’s not your true ultimate destiny. One day, you will feel complete, perfect, and whole. How does it feel to be on this earth? It feels frustrating, confusing … hard, beautiful, wonderful, glorious; it feels like home. Amen.

John 2:1-15  “Speak to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord” - Ephesians 5:19 NKJV Chutzpah is a Hebrew word that has been adopted into Yiddish and then English. Chutzpah has been defined as audacity, insolence, impudence, gall, brazen nerve, effrontery, incredible guts, presumption, and arrogance. Yet something essential about chutzpah is missing from all these words. Chutzpah can be destructive and ugly or vital and fantastic, but never in-between.  ( www.Chabad.org ) It is an amazing word, especially with its dual implication of being ugly or fantastic. But it’s often a matter of perspective whether the actions are viewed as holy or otherwise. For centuries, warped notions of propriety might have made the determination. Still, in parts of India, a  Dalit  (untouchable) shopping in the “wrong” store would be considered an affront. In America, a few decades ago, a Black person sitting at the front of the bus would provoke scorn, or a woman standing in a pulpit would be seen as blasphemous. But thankfully, through the holy chutzpah of many, norms have evolved. In fact, the great story of Scripture is that of many women not sitting on their hands, allowing their fate to be dictated to them or their people. It was their very impudence and audacity that helped God’s work of salvation continue—their holy chutzpah. “ Well-behaved women seldom make history ” is certainly true for the Bible. Rahab, the Canaanite prostitute, spied for the Israelites, helping them defeat Jericho while saving her family. Ruth connived to create a match for her daughter-in-law, Naomi, by threatening the reputation of a very important man (who is actually Rahab’s son!). They eventually became the great-grandparents of King David. Esther risked her life by appearing before the king unannounced. Her gumption worked, and she outwitted the evil Haman by exposing his devious plans to exterminate the Jews. And Mary simply orders Jesus, the young man she knows to be God, to turn water into wine, rather than asking, setting the stage for his first miracle. All of these women just as easily could have been labeled as insolent and arrogant. But their chutzpah was born not just of temerity but of a demand for our RESPECT! Another woman with chutzpah took the song of an adored, famous colleague, Otis Redding. He sang about a man wanting respect in his own home, and she completely reversed the meaning, adding the now-famous spelling out, “R-E-S-P-E-C-T.” Aretha Franklin took the ballad, jazzed it up with backup singers and energy. Redding commented on it in 1967 at the Monterey Pop Festival by saying, “ This next song is a song that a girl took away from me. A good friend of mine, this girl, she just took the song, but I’m still going to do it anyway. ” Later, he stated he liked what Aretha did with the song. As I listened to the song again in contrast with Otis Redding’s (an admittedly excellent version), I am simply in awe not only of her vocal chops but her confident, powerful presence. I realized she exemplified the difference between someone who demands respect as opposed to someone who commands it. If somebody shouts long enough, “ You must respect me! You must respect me! ” it’s clear that they don’t feel that respect and perhaps don’t truly respect themselves. Ms. Franklin’s personal presence, the way in which she sings, the way in which she interprets the words, commands respect. You simply give it to her by virtue of her charisma, confidence, and message. Ms. Franklin received tremendous respect for her music. In fact, one year Rolling Stone Magazine voted her version of "Respect" as number one on a list of the 500 greatest songs of all time. They explained their choice: “ [It] catalyzed rock & roll, gospel, and blues to create the model for soul music that artists still look to today. ” I remember when I first heard Aretha Franklin’s version. I realize now that she did not so much demand respect from others but commanded it, which is true of all these women. The way Ms. Franklin performed it, brimming with vitality, confidence, and truth, I am convinced spurred many to discover that respect is something God gives by virtue of our birth and cannot be taken or given by mere mortals. In 1972, a few years after Ms. Franklin sang “Respect,” a tiny young blond thing, mini-skirt and all, commanded respect at a staid Presbyterian Church on the Upper West Side, Broadway Presbyterian. Known as the mini-skirted Jesus freak, Abigail Rian Evans was the first installed woman pastor in New York City Presbytery. At only 35 years old, she brokered peace during the Columbia protests between the students and administration. (Would that she had been available these past couple of years!) She commanded rather than demanded respect in the same fashion as Ms. Franklin. She didn’t try to convince people that she deserved to be a minister; she simply did ministry. Mary did not have to tell Jesus to listen to his mother—she spoke with authority, and he listened. Without a means to survive or a husband to take care of her, Ruth refused to sit on the sidelines and await her fate. She moved forward in bold trust that God would work with her to bring about a good future. All these women demonstrate that when you believe in what God has given you, who God has made you to be, and what God has challenged you to do with it, you will simply command respect by virtue of the passion and purpose with which you act. From the Detroit Free Press, critic Brian McCollum wrote: “ Franklin's song has been dissected in books and academic papers, held up as a groundbreaking feminist and civil rights statement in an era when such declarations weren't always easy to make.” When asked about her audacious stance amidst the feminist and Civil Rights Movement, Franklin told the Detroit Free Press, “I don't think it's bold at all. I think it's quite natural that we all want respect—and should get it. ” (July 13, 2017, Detroit Free Press, as quoted from Wikipedia) If we live our lives according to the morals and principles that God has taught us, then respect belongs to us all. But not all commands for respect deserve the same attention. Chutzpah means having the gumption to flout conventions to achieve our ends, but whether it’s holy or not depends on the person. The type of respect that the biblical women commanded was different than the ways in which we see power exercised in the world today. All too often, those who demand rather than command respect are using leverage to create fear in those to whom they relate. This happens with those who have official power, elected officials, or bosses. It’s the type of boss that everyone is too anxious to tell the truth to. That person demands a certain fealty that gives the aura of respect, but in fact, it is most often contempt coupled with fear. But this tactic is not only used by those in authority. We see it exercised by those with the power of a microphone, a keyboard, or a social media following that attempt to demand respect for their opinions by threatening the livelihood of those with whom they disagree. Both of these approaches are the ugly and destructive type of chutzpah. In contrast, there is another aspect of respect that comes out in Ms. Franklin’s version. If someone truly respects us, they should respect us enough to be forthright and open with us. Ms.Franklin and her co-creators inserted this notion in her version of the song. The repeated “ sock it to me ” line, sung by Franklin’s sisters, was an idea that Carolyn and Aretha had worked out together. Aretha said, “ Some of the girls were saying that to the fellas, like ‘sock it to me’ in this way or ‘sock it to me’ in that way. It’s not sexual. It was nonsexual, just a cliché line .” (Wikipedia) It can simply mean something like “ tell me ” or “ give it to me straight. ” If we fear someone rather than respect them, we will never give it to them straight. But if we truly see another as a person of value, as a person made by God, then not only will we be willing to speak the truth, but we will want to speak it, to be open with them. It was the type of truth that Jesus told. He didn’t sugarcoat his message, and he was especially open with the disciples. At the Last Supper, He told them difficult truths about themselves, about how they would betray Him. Upon hearing this, Peter insisted he would never! Jesus did not shy away from the tense moment and gave the hardest news to Peter: “ Before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times. ” And granted, there is a certain willingness in today’s world to speak hard truths. Unfortunately, too often, we’re only willing to do so because we’ve written someone off, and we just want to inflict pain. Jesus respected the disciples enough to tell them the hard truths, but He did not end with it. “ I no longer call you servants but friends… and there is no greater love than this: a friend lays down his life for others. ” He continues to promise them that He will bring them to a heavenly kingdom eventually. Jesus certainly “ socked it to ” the disciples. He respected them enough to allow them to see the truth about themselves, but it was only out of love. True respect—authentic respect—can only be born from love. May we have holy chutzpah to flout those norms which degrade and diminish ourselves and others, and may we be open enough to want others to “ sock it to me ” out of love.and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Shared during Sunday Worship on January 26, 2024. Heavenly Father as we thank you for food, we remember the hungry.  As we thank you for our health, we remember the sick.  Lord, we thank you for our friends, and so we remember those who are friendless.  Lord, we thank you for our freedoms and therefore remember those who are enslaved.  Hear us, Lord, as we pray to you silently for the little things and for the big things that we are grateful for in our lives: Lord, may those who lead the nations of the world be given wisdom and insight, caring hearts, kind words and actions.  We pray for all people living in places where there is war or famine, where there is flooding or there are fires or any other tragedy.   Bring them peace, comfort them, and strengthen them.  We pray for all who mourn this day, as we whisper their names in the silence, asking you that they may feel your care for them.     Almighty God, we pray for our families and friends.  May we be able to help each other just as you love and help us.  We pray for ourselves – for all that we will do this day and this week, and for all those who we will meet.  Loving God, we give this day and this week into your hands.  Be with us in all that we will do and say.  May we enjoy this week and learn and grow in it.  Hear us, God, as we prayer our silent prayers of petition:   O God, give us grace to work for those things that we have prayed for, and in the purpose of your love, answer our prayers and fulfill our hopes, for Jesus' sake. Amen.

Genesis 9: 8-17 Popular songs throughout the decades have had an incredible ability to capture the mood of America: our fears, our dreams, our loves, and our failings. Over the next several weeks, we will explore a few of these iconic songs, such as Lennon’s  Imagine , Aretha’s  R-E-S-P-E-C-T , and Dylan’s  Like a Rolling Stone. These songs powerfully captured the times from which they came but also express an ageless depth that transcends time and place. Like biblical literature, they address themes that will forever be a part of the human experience, but unlike the Bible, their solutions are ultimately unsatisfying. Lennon wants us to imagine there’s no heaven above or hell below. It challenges us to conceive a world that is void of doctrines or beliefs that split humanity into the haves and the have-nots. Aretha’s  R-E-S-P-E-C-T  was an anthem of women, specifically Black women, commanding respect and expressing the essence of that movement in a way legislation could not. Dylan asked us, “How does it feel?... To be without a home, like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone?” It was the buildup of his own frustration with the expectations placed upon him that didn’t match his own sense of self, as well as his increasing sense of displacement in a world whose values didn’t align with his own. Each one of these songs powerfully expresses our deepest yearnings: a world in which our cultures don’t divide us, a world in which everybody is given respect, a world in which we can be fully ourselves—not having to conform to the artificial expectations that make us feel like aliens in our own skin. Today, we will examine what was voted as the most influential song of the 20th century: a song filled with sweet innocence, lofty dreams, and a simple but powerful notion that a better world can be found—but only in dreams— Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Dorothy’s frustrations mount early in  The Wizard of Oz . Finding herself in a dry, dusty, featureless landscape, the town spinster Miss Gulch threatens her dog, Toto, striking fear into this simple girl’s heart. Frustrated, Aunt Em suggests, “Find yourself a place where you won't get into any trouble.” Despite her young age, Dorothy already realizes this isn’t possible. She walks off by herself saying, "Someplace where there isn't any trouble. Do you suppose there is such a place, Toto? There must be. It's not a place you can get to by a boat, or a train. It's far, far away. Behind the moon, beyond the rain." And then begins the immortal classic,  Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Thousands upon thousands of years ago, the people of God had a similar dream for a better world, and they too looked to the rainbow. Back then, it was a hope that floods would no longer destroy the Earth. Even today, despite our incredible technology, water’s power to level towns and even civilizations is a growing threat. Just imagine what it must’ve been like for people so long ago. In fact, they could only imagine that such incredible destructive forces were born of the power of God’s wrath. But in many ways, the story of the flood—while it begins with familiar interpretations of the times in which it was written (that the destructive forces of nature were a result of the wrath of the gods)—ends offering an entirely different understanding. One that is not fully understood until the person of Jesus. At the end of the story, God places a rainbow in the sky. It is a sign of promise—in fact, an everlasting covenant from God—that never again will the Earth be destroyed by the waters of the flood. But there is much more to this covenant than initially meets the eye. For the rainbow is shaped like that instrument of war: a “bow.” In fact, that’s the word the Bible uses—not “rainbow” but “bow.” Essentially, God is putting away weapons of war. This is the hidden promise in the story that the Israelites first conceived. All too often in ancient times (in fact, Plato was one of the first people to observe this), people’s conceptions of the gods were often actually all the worst traits found in humans: greed, lust, jealousy, violence, rage, betrayal, and indifference. In this story, the Israelites share a radical new understanding: God’s ways are not our ways. And then finally, in the person of Jesus, we see just how far God will go to avoid using violence as a means. Eventually, the Israelites’ hope expanded beyond that of floods to imagine an age when swords would be so unnecessary that they would be beaten into plowshares. They dreamed about a time when crops would be plentiful and there would be perfect justice. People are filled with dreams today; it’s why they come to New York City. Dorothy sang about her lofty dreams, and children today still dream of a better world—but some of these dreams are more heartbreaking than others. A teacher in New York asks her class on Martin Luther King Jr. Day to write about their dreams. These are the 1995 "dreams": Michael dreams that the leukemia will go away. Brandon dreams that someday he will have a dad, "for real." Amber dreams that someday she and her mom can be "safe." Marcia dreams that she can stay in this house and the judge won't make her go back to "the one where you are always scared." Cheri dreams of food—"a lot" and "a lot of it." Monica dreams that Daddy really wasn’t killed so Mom can buy something that isn’t food. Jane dreams that "no one kills me before 16 so I can drive away." Chris dreams that he gets a new heart before this one stops. Tim dreams that someday he can be an artist and not have to fight. Perry dreams that people will stop selling drugs so the cops will stay away. Ashley and Ralph "don't have time to dream 'cause living's hard work." By the way, these are 6-, 7-, and 8-year-olds. ( New York Times ) As we reflect on Judy Garland’s life, we see that, in many ways, her life, like these children’s, was lived on this side of the rainbow. It was a song that both blessed her and haunted her. “It’s like being a grandmother in pigtails,” she once said. And of course, her tragic early death might tempt us to dismiss fanciful, optimistic dreaming. But in this song, there is more than just fanciful dreams. There's a land that I heard of Once in a lullaby Somewhere over the rainbow Skies are blue And the dreams that you dare to dream Really do come true This is why we are here in church: because we believe dreams like Dorothy’s are not simply naïve, overly optimistic wishes, but that they really do come true. Over the Rainbow  is filled with optimism. As outrageous and naïve as our hopes can be, we should never stop singing about them or writing about them; we should never stop working toward them. We need to dream because these dreams help us to see the world God meant for us. Dreaming is the world’s way of expressing hope. At Brick Church, we have embraced a challenge: to be a beacon of hope. But to be a beacon of hope, first, we have to have hope. And hope is different from a dream or a wish. A dream is born of a fantasy that, somehow magically, the world will simply be better because we wished upon a star. But hope is born of faith—faith in God. The same God that loved us enough to come down and sacrifice Himself for us is the God that has promised us a mending of the world. All those lofty dreams of our most popular songs ultimately find their fulfillment through God in Jesus Christ. But Christian hope does not mean sitting on our hands, waiting for God to do all the hard work. Christian hope is a call to action. For Brick, that call means listening to the lofty dreams of every child and every person in the city—for a life filled with peace, not violence; for a life filled with plenty, not want; for a life of fulfillment and meaning, not drudgery and distress. And it is our job to bring the other side of the rainbow to this side of reality and make these dreams come true, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Please bring some extra cash to Sunday Worship on February 9th to donate and support our Confirmands' annual Souper Bowl Sunday. During this event, Confirmands research organizations that serve people in need and then have a debate on which organization(s) should receive the funds. Thank You!

“Speak to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord” - Ephesians 5:19 (NKJV) Popular songs are popular for a reason: they strike a chord within humanity by expressing our greatest hopes, deepest fears, and most fervent longings for our personal lives and for a better world. They are both uniquely powerful in the time in which they were written and performed, and speak to current circumstances, possessing a timeless quality that transcends any particular time and place. In this way, popular songs are similar to many Biblical stories. Biblical stories have captured the imagination across thousands of years, languages, continents, religions, and peoples. Even today, they address themes that resonate with our lives. By examining the similarities and differences between popular music and Biblical themes, we find a place of intersection between our sacred and secular lives. We also discover the language the non-religious, non-Christian world uses to express its own hopes and dreams. Some of the popular songs we’re going to explore, like John Lennon’s "Imagine," ask us to envision a world with no heaven or hell. In a sense, he expresses a desire for a world free of belief systems or structures that create the haves and have-nots. But ultimately, the world he envisions isn’t one empty of meaning and purpose—it is unsatisfied. Learn more about "Imagine" by John Lennon here. Aretha Franklin’s re-envisioning of Otis Redding’s "Respect" served as a powerful anthem for women, particularly Black women, in its time. Her interpretation transcended the legislative moment, commanding a solidarity of hope for all people. In this way, her music reflects an ancient desire: that all people receive the dignity with which God created them, a dignity inherent in our divine nature. Learn more about "Respect" sung by Aretha Franklin here. Bob Dylan, in his song "Like a Rolling Stone," asks us, “How does it feel?” “How does it feel to be without a home , like a complete unknown?” While expressing his personal frustrations with the public’s expectations of his music, he reflects the desire of many Americans who increasingly feel out of place in their own country. Learn more about "Like a Rolling Stone" by Bob Dylan here. Ultimately, Dylan expresses a shared feeling, even with that of Jesus, who at one point felt so rejected by His hometown that He said, “Birds have nests and foxes have holes, but the Son of Man has no place to rest His head.” (Matthew 8:20) Each one of us feels like a rolling stone because our ultimate home is not in this world but in our heavenly one. That subliminal feeling—feeling out of place and out of time—reflects a truth: our hearts are restless until they find their rest in God. Prayer of Confession Lord, You have made us to be in community with each other and with You. But too often we listen to the beat of our own drum while failing to appreciate the song You have given others. Open our spirits to the creative passions and wisdom You have placed in others that we might harmonize our voices with people of different faith and insight all to Your glory. Amen.