May God Bless You…

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and the exploitation of people so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.

*while the author of this beautiful prayer is unknown, I’m sure he/she wouldn’t mind you adding a few lines of your own…

Nobody Knows

If you showed up at PS261 on Sunday and wondered “why didn’t anybody tell me,” you weren’t alone.

Nobody knows why the gates were locked.*
Nobody knows why the janitor (and his key) weren’t on duty.*
Nobody knows why Stonehenge was built… but that’s another story.

Heartfelt apologies to anyone who was inconvenienced on Sunday by our unexpected cancellation of services.  We’ll be back on track next week.  We promise.

In other news, Ashley sent me this note last week and I thought I’d send it to you as well…

“There’s a really great group called Reverend Vince Anderson and the Love Choir (yes he’s a real reverend) that performs every Monday at Union Pool in Williamsburg.  The shows are free, but they do go on a little before 11pm.  It’s definitely something worth checking out if you don’t mind being a night owl.  You can check out their music on MySpace.  The Reverend has this great raspy New Orleans voice and he’s for so to get the crowd clapping their hands and giving praise.”

*retraction: we now know why the gate was locked and where the janitor was, but it’s not a very interesting story. It doesn’t involve dragons or industrial espionage. Still, we hope nobody went hungry for lack of free bagels last week!

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