Welcome
Each week one of our pastors or staff members writes a column observing what is going on in our congregation, the Church and the world, and offering reflections on the Christian life and faith. Through this series of columns, we hope to connect your and our story to the enduring story of Christ; to offer pastoral reflections on our ongoing congregational life and mission; to report on news of the Presbyterian Church and Church universal; and to invite further reflection and deeper discipleship. We welcome your comments and suggestions. In other words, our words here are an invitation to continue the conversation.
How do you teach baptism?
When teaching children about baptism, we often review the symbols and the stories of baptism. We talk about John the Baptist in his camel skin clothes and the dove descending from on high. We talk about water, and how the water in our font is ordinary water that we set aside for a holy purpose.
This coming Sunday, January 6, is the Feast of the Epiphany when the church celebrates the arrival of the Magi from the east. The word epiphany means manifestation, appearing or showing.
After I graduated from seminary, I took part in an international program called the “Global Institute of Theology” at Kirchliche Hochschule Wuppertal/Bethel, Germany.
If you ask me what Hell might be like, I’ll take you to the King of Prussia Mall in the days leading up to Christmas. The people. The sales. The gimmicks. The merchandise. The long lines. The traffic. The false sense that “stuff” wrapped up with a bow will somehow bring happiness. That’s hell on earth, as far as I’m concerned.
On Thursday, December 20 at 7:00 p.m., we will be offering our annual Service of the Longest Night in the Sanctuary.
Sometimes called “Blue Christmas,” the Service of the Longest Night is so named because of its proximity to the Winter Solstice - the longest night of the year. But the name is also fitting because - despite the trappings of gifts, holiday meals and celebrations, bright lights, and Christmas carols - the season can be darker than other times of the year for those who have experienced the trauma of loss. The stresses and strains of trying to offer a time of celebration take their toll.
This coming Sunday, December 9, is the joyful culmination of a long and exciting visioning process. During worship we will dedicate our pledges to This Time, This Place: The Campaign for Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church. Each family unit or individual will be invited to complete a commitment card and place it in the offering plates as they are passed. Even if you have already made your campaign pledge, we ask that you complete the card so that together all of our gifts can be lifted in prayer and dedicated to the glory of God.
My brother was home from college and I was a busy high school student. Neither of us felt any guilt when we refused to help our parents decorate for Christmas. We didn’t have the time or the patience to haul boxes from the basement, test bundles of tree lights, unwrap ornaments, or help move furniture. Maneuvering around the boxes stacked in the living room, we escaped for the afternoon. I remember coming home, happy to see the lights flickering in the windows, the large evergreen wreath on the door, and a sense that the season had truly arrived. Entering the house, I realized my parents had made a unique choice in decorating that year. In years past, my brother and I had intentionally ignored the childhood art projects and old family ornaments that had been carefully preserved in pieces of old newspaper.
