From the Pastor
I want to begin by thanking each and every one of you, my brothers and sisters in Christ, for your caring, your support, your love and your prayers following my mother’s death. Actually, I want to thank you for your caring, support, love and prayers during her long illness preceding her death. It has been a long, rough journey. But during all the trips to Phoenix, the worry, the uncertainty, the inevitable disruptions of both my schedule and the church’s schedule, you have been there with me. More times than you know, your love and care stood as living reminders of God’s love and care in my life and the life of my family. Again, thank you.
As I walked this path with my mother, I was also intensely aware that it was a path already walked by many of you. We have shared so much joy over the years, but we have also shared so many losses, so much grief. And while the old spiritual is right – finally we must walk that “lonesome valley” by ourselves – it is also true that the walk is a little easier, a little less lonely, when it is walked in the midst of a community of faith and love. How comforting it is to know that in those moments when my faith wavers, your faith is there to lift me up. Together we find that light does shine in the darkness, and once again the stone is rolled away from the tomb.
Soon we will begin a listening process in our church – an opportunity for each of you to reflect on our church life and share your ideas about what priorities should shape our life in the months ahead. I invite you to take part in the process so that your voice will be heard. But my recent experience of loss tells me that in the midst of our discussions and reflections on our church - program, budget, music, worship, outreach, etc. – let us not forget that what remains at the foundation of our life together are our caring connections with each other and with the God who holds us tenderly in both life and death. Building on such a solid foundation, how can we go wrong?
Gene
