I am my favorite subject.

Last Sunday we spent the morning talking about ourselves.

Over coffee and bagels we told stories about the churches we’ve attended.  We talked  about the good things, bad things, right things, and wrong things they taught us.  With neither fear nor judgment, we delved into the past.

After all, how can we know where we’re going if we haven’t explored where we’ve been?

Stories were told.  We giggled and cringed, sighed and cried at the journey that has brought us each to CCfB.  But time was short and the janitor needed to put up the tables, so we packed our boxes and left before there was really time to finish.

But maybe this is a good forum to continue the discussion.  If you couldn’t be with us on Sunday – or even if you were at CCfB and would like to reflect a little further – share a few sentences of your story with us.  Choose one (or two… or three) of the sentences below and complete it by telling us how the church you were raised in formed your current views about God, yourself, and your world:

My church taught me that God is…

My church taught me that I am…

My church taught me that people are…

if you’d like 5 bonus points, reflect on your answers to the top three questions and use that info to answer: “Because of this, I now need my church to…”

-b

The Learning Curve of Community

Like the Island of Misfit Toys, we are quirky… but we are complete.

Last Sunday, Jen Thweatt-Bates challenged us that when God comes to us, He does not require that we negate who we are.  While there are images of rebirth, metaphors of the old man becoming new, and promises of a “new creation” throughout scripture, we must never mistake that Christ in any way seeks to change us because of a fatal flaw he’s recently found in his creation.

In fact, it’s probably even accurate to say that Christ doesn’t make us a “new” creation as much as he makes us a “complete” creation – a fuller, richer, more complete version of who we already were.

What does that mean for our community at CCfB?  It means that just as Christ loves us as we were created, so we love each other.  It means we understand that acceptance does not always mean agreement.  It means we welcome diversity because diversity breeds growth. It means we require no person to deny or negate their history, their identity, or their traditions in order to be a part of our community.

This Sunday Jennie will lead us in a discussion about where we’ve come from – both as individuals and as a church – and how that will/should guide where Christ’s Church for Brooklyn is headed in the year(s) to come.

Jennie is preparing for this Sunday, and you should be too.  Come to church ready to not only share some of your history, but also help define the future identity of Christ’s Church for Brooklyn.

-b

on God the Great Physician and Jesus the Healer

Hi everyone,

Last week I was moved to blog about the thoughts generated by our worship service at CCfB over at my personal blog, rudetruth (named thus as a paraphrase from an Emerson quote, in case anyone’s wondering).  As we’re keeping up the blog here (and, BTW, any CCfB person out there who’d like to contribute from time to time, just say the word) I thought I’d re-post it here.

Check in from time to time to see what’s happening, what’s coming up on our calendar, what just happened, and what we thought about it.

***

Yesterday [last week], one of CCfB’s longtime members spoke to us on the topic of vocation: specifically, the challenges of integrating his Christian faith and daily work. He is a physician, as is his wife. He spoke personally and candidly, and it was riveting. Stories of turning of machines; of saying the words, “I’m so sorry” to families in waiting room; of confronting the dilemmas of social injustice in treating the uninsured and the homeless; of struggling to resist the pressure to treat sick bodies rather than sick people.

As he spoke I thought of Jesus’ healing miracles, and how Jesus must have confronted these same challenges and pressures in his ministry. So many people pressing in, demanding help. So many unsolvable problems. So much to do, and only a finite opportunity and limited options. No wonder Jesus withdrew to mountains to pray, and climbed into boats to get away from the crowds. And yet, the stories of miraculous healings demonstrate above all that Jesus never neglected to deal with people holistically: body and soul and spirit. My own theological preoccupation with embodiment has led me to think of the healing stories as emphasizing the importance of the body–which is true–and yet, the testimony from this physician reminded me that in the profession of healing there is a danger of reductionism that many fall into, and the struggle is to keep oneself open to the reality that these material bodies are people, with emotions, families, goals, fears.

And never has the metaphor of God as the Great Physician been more meaningful to me. What was once a purely intellectualized theological grasp of that metaphor has been enriched with this glimpse into what being a physician really means.

Transition.

Hello everyone. This is Casey. I am a member of Christ’s Church for Brooklyn, and am also a part of the Transition and Leadership Teams that are now charged with the life of CCfB. We’ve decided to keep this blog going, but are not quite sure what that will look like. We may use it to keep people updated on the goings on at CCfB, and to bring to the blogosphere opportunities for service and worship. There might also be posting of sermon texts. And we invite you to follow us on our journey.

Joe’s new blog can be found at joehays.wordpress.com.