June 25, 2017 Matthew 14:22-33

Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after Jesus had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. 

When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. And early in the morning Jesus came walking toward them on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. 

But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Jesus said, “Come.” 

So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. But when Peter noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” 

When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped Jesus, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

***

I don’t know how many times he, my father, took me out to the cul-de-sac, at the edge of the driveway, buttoning up my helmet, so tight as kid, that it either pinched my skin in it’s snap or chocked my nodding down, but it seemed his last bit of safety, in my learning to ride a bike. 

Sometimes, as I was crashing over, I wondered if he, like a strong wind on water, had given me an extra push of speed just seconds before, because in those moments, before I turned around and saw my father standing there - arms crossed and grinning, there would be this feeling of perfection, where after peddling hard and fast, the scraping of my training wheels would silence into the balance of rubber tires and I could even coast with the wind in my tiny ponytail stuffed below a white sticker-ed helmet.

But those moments were fleeting, I suppose I suspected him always to be there, always to be pushing the seat of my bicycle, always to be running alongside behind me. But that isn’t what riding a bicycle is all about. They say once you learn, you forever know, and we relate that to technique, but I think it’s about trusting, about trusting the one who takes you to the cul-de-sac, or says, “Come,” out on the water, and then with that trust, eventually finding you can do it yourself and perhaps teach another. 

That you walk up to them, skinned calves, and scrapped hands, or water thrashing, sinking and yelling, “Save me!” and you immediately reach out your hand and right them in the balance and then reassuring and encouraging, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” It’s about trust. It’s about wanting to share with one another the way that wind feels in the freedom of riding you bike, or walking on the water. 

On Wednesday night, at the Vacation Bible School Campfire, I saw this so beautifully and it had that same feel of parents and grandparents and extended family - teaching, loving, enjoying. Bob and Shannon buckled up our helmets by grilling and preparing a great meal, to which we sat around at summery decorated tables, kids and adults together learning about what the kids did that day, from swimming across a pool, to riding their bikes, to playing baseball. 

Then out in yard, in a circle of camp chairs, we listened to Mark Ferns tell about treasures, complete with old coins for the widow’s mite, and real gold that we got to touch, hold in our hands and pass around, learning that we too were treasurers. It was like the instructions to push off and peddle hard but that our parent would be there. 

Then we went downstairs and like a parent running at a good pace, Sharon Defrees was hunched over drilling and mixing concrete, and kids stood nicely in line to get a fresh batch, and then decorate a stepping stone. This was after Ginger Rembold’s craft of having the kids each make metal washer necklace that somehow shined like stained glass. People helped the kids and caught up, spouses and other congregants came after work, and then we all went outside for games Kyra organized and she and her kids helped set up. 

Hopscotch helped us take turns and encourage one another in the sun streaked later afternoon light. Then potato races were super fun as adults and kids laughed while hopping and three-legged racing, which is still fun even if it is a game each of us adults played as a kid. My favorite was when all the guys potato sac raced and Jason McClaughry lovingly teased Alex with little pushes to off balance him as they hopped together toward the finish line when Jason bear hugged Alex both of them falling down wrapped in their bags. It was like when a kid can ride themselves and you can show them how much they have improved by teasing them to wobble a little, because they can trust their own strength and balance. 

Then Zach Allen and I led silly camp songs, which included laughter and running around a totally letting go of all seriousness, even for the most stayed among us. It was when the parent can lead the kid over curbs and harder corners because the trust is implicitly there because the fun has taken over. 

Then Bob McKim brought grill he welded from the inside of a washing machine and we roasted marshmallows learning that Ginger Rembold makes them perfectly and loves to share and Melissa and Annie know how to assembly line chocolate and gram-cracker. And all were enjoying after a big big day!

Then as the kids were getting antsy on the play structure and the parents enjoying talking Mr. Zach Allen saw an opportunity and called the little ones over for a tag type game where Mr. Allen was called Potato Chip in a pirate voice and we had to cross his ship. I say we, because by the time the game ended the parents too were sprinting across the playground field trying not to get caught by barnacles of other players. We were walking on water, we were riding together, and I believe from the pictures and messages shared upon return home, those in the boat of Vacation Bible School worshiped Jesus, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

June 18, 2017 Matthew 14:13-21

Now when Jesus heard John had been killed, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. 

When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick. 

When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” 

Jesus said to them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” 

They replied, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.” 

And he said, “Bring them here to me.” 

Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.

***

I don’t know if you’ve heard the term, “h-angry,” when a person’s hunger makes them angry, but I get h-angry sometimes, when with low blood sugar and lack of awareness, I snip at the next person to talk. And if I were a disciple, I would be awfully worried about a whole field of 5,000 families of h-angry people. Food, water, shelter, and temperature are some of our most basic needs, and this group was about to be without many of them as night was beginning to fall in that deserted place. My own stomach would be rumbling and I would totally be the one asking, “Jesus, um, there’s a lot of people here, and they are going to get hungry,” in my head I would have already taken it to the ‘enth degree. They are going to get hungry, and thirsty, and then tired, and we don’t have anything. AKA I am hungry, and thirsty, and tired, and the disciples themselves don’t have enough to share amongst them. So when Jesus says, “You give them something to eat,” I would’ve gotten h-angry at him. “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.” Fix that Jesus. So I probably would have had to be the one to go get the loaves and the fish, one so I could look directly at my need, hungry and carrying five loaves and two fish, my mouth salivating and secondly, I would have had to carry them so I could be sure of  their transformation. Because that's what happens, what I would have forgot all about in my h-anger, is to ask to God what God wants me to do. I would have skipped right past the trust that God is bigger than dinner, or my lack of it, at that second. That God is thinking not just in terms of my belly, but 5,000 families bellies. That there is an answer, maybe many, and I just have to stop being afraid long enough to hear it. I have to stop thinking of fear and worst case scenarios long enough to let creativity seep in. And this is the way we function and Jesus knows it.

A few months ago, the Mission Committee leadership of Backpack and Open Door were wondering about how they might need to limit their programs which feeds children. There neither seemed to be the financial backing nor volunteer effort enough to run the programs. It was a sad and scary place to be, and those who lead knew how precarious was the spot between having enough and having not. They were looking at Jesus saying, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” And Jesus asked them not to look the hunger, but to look for where there was bread and fish. They brought and gathered together what they had, Larry Cassidy, who did a fabulous job previously running the Open Door Program felt his health was improved enough to return, other names came up as people to ask to write grants and be the Backpack Coordinator. Financial support also began to come through. In this time, the Mission Committee remains astonished and thankful as they watched Jesus look up to heaven, give thanks, bless the bread and break it. I look forward to next school year, when they find 5,000 days of children’s bellies full, and assessing their program they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. This year backpack counted the food they hauled to schools by the ton, and Open Door was figuring out how to give away the extra bread to the Bread of Life Food Bank. 

I was likewise talking to a friend in the car the other day, she had been listening to a parenting book which talked about how our fears for our children are so often our own fears manifested. My friend explained that instead of parenting as, “You have to get this grade at school, because I said so,” that what really was going on was the parent’s own fear. Instead to understand what is really going on is, “When my kid slacks off at school, I worry that he or she will not be self-sufficient as an adult, and being self-sufficient ourselves is a constant concern for their dad and I.” To recognize the fear is our own and often a projection of our own worries, our own h-angry. So how might that parent be reminded to go get and look at the bread and the fish that were already there. What if they were able to be reassured that their kid was really good at the creative arts, and well beyond their peers socially. And that they and their spouse had a supportive family close by and though their kids didn’t have as much as other kids, they had enough to fill them belly full. I can imagine the parent bringing these skills and sustenance back to Jesus, and Jesus ordered them to sit down on the grass. Then, taking the five loaves and the two fish, looking up to heaven, and blessing and breaking the loaves, and giving them to the disciples of parents, and the parent-disciples witnessing their family’s small gifts and substance feeding the crowds.

Lastly, I think about our church. After summer, upon summer of preaching to pews with numbers in the twenties, thirties and on a good day forties, when they seat a hundred and twenty, it always makes summer feel like a strain. Preaching to so few, so spread out feels like trying to hold up the injured from seven rows in front. Singing hymns also feels like an unrehearsed solo for those of us willing to put ourselves out there louder than we would prefer, and those who prefer not, just add to the void of silent space. Likewise, our number in worship during the school year is down from an average of about 65 to now about 45,  so I imagine there will be summer days in the teens and twenties on the regular. They are statistics I’ve been watching, and also been researching. Did you know summer Sundays are when most visitors come to your church? Forget Easter and Christmas, that multitude is probably going to come just twice a year, those who come in summer, are more often looking for a church, but it is when we are not at our best. So I and other suggested taking out some pews for the season. There are statistics that say that when a sanctuary is about 70 percent full visitors believe that the church is alive and that there is a place for them. If it is 80 percent, visitors feel there will be no way to plug in. Conversely, a sanctuary that is only 60 percent full looks empty and dying. Statistically to a visitor, we have looked empty and dying most Sundays this year. Moreover, I recently read that while roping off the pews helps the worship to feel and be more participatory, that the act of roping them off does not change the empty and dying feeling for those who visit and may in fact increase that feeling. Essentially, we were also saying to our visitors, this is a deserted place, we do not have food, go elsewhere. But when it was suggested to move pews out and downstairs for a season, I watched all the fears come up. This church that is usually so good at change, that is usually so good at, “hey, try it, we can see for a few months and if it works it works if it doesn’t it doesn’t,” stopped at fear. Stopped at h-anger. Stopped at scarcity. Who will move them, what about people with mobility issues, what about funerals, what about, what about. And what I saw was fear. Does this mean our church is dying? What I saw was h-anger. I am mad my church is not what it was in the fifties. What I saw is people scared of change. “When I have been having a hard time I liked sitting alone in the back pew.” What I saw was a congregation that needed to be asked to carry the bread and the fish because you see, when we are so spread out what we don’t realize is that we are not injured at all, just too spread out to carry each other in presence and in song, when we are so spread out we are missing our bounty of watching and playing with kids in front us in pews or welcoming the new summer visitors behind us all alone in the back pew. When we are so spread out it is like 5,000 h-angry people and Jesus is asking us to bring the bread and fish.

We are a congregation who has bread and fish. In Worship alone we have bread and fish of Ginger Rembold playing piano and others who share their musical gifts, we have people who can sing, we have Linda Moxon’s Irises, we have lists to choose from for liturgists and ushers and greeters, and nursery care providers, we have a group who helps discuss the sermon scripture and critique the sermon during Lectionary Bible Study, we have an adult Sunday School which meets during the summer, and Vacation Bible School next week, we have people who bake bread for communion and others who set it up, we usually have so many toddlers and early elementary kids that it is hard to corral them, and we consider that a good thing. Likewise, in more sparse days like today, we know them closely enough to know that today their families are rafting, watching them play in their all-star-baseball tournament, spending time with grandparents in Pendleton, or in Sumpter, our youth are working in the fields with their families, and spending time with their dad’s for Father’s Day. That knowing support is a blessing, it is bread and fish. And this is just one area of the church, our worship, which we fear will somehow become less if we take out a few back pews. This bounty is not going to be negatively affected by a summer sitting closer together. It could in fact be increased! 

Jesus is reminding us that instead of staring only at our fears, and coming up with other excuses, that we are to gather our bounty and bring it forth, then to look up, and watch our fear turn to blessing and that blessing be multiplied into abundant bounty. To have trust that God has not left this place, nor each of us. That no matter if it is me as a h-angry disciple, you as a parent-disciple, or we as a church of disciples, that God is bigger than our rumbling bellies of fear, God has multitudes of abundant blessing. Alleluia, Amen.

June 11, 2017 Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

Jesus put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” 

He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.” 

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. 

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. 

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad. 

So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 

“Have you understood all this?” They answered, “Yes.” 

And Jesus said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.” 

***

I am really good at finding a bargain. I am one of those people who can look at an old jacket and notice the mustard seeds of distinctive well cut tailoring. I can drive by a cast off door, and like treasurer in a field, know that propped against a wall - it’s faded coloring and peeling paint would look pristine and clean with a simple wreath. Likewise, I have often been a collector of people, such that in a small community, I seem to end up walking around and saying hi to acquaintances rather than sitting down with one good friend. This collecting is a fun game, this finding of strings of pearls, but I’ve stopped playing. I realized that I was loosing at a bigger one, the kingdom of God. 

About a year or two ago, I went through my closet like fish in a net, and tried everything on, and donated a truckload as if throwing, too small, too large, ill-fitting fish back to the sea. Likewise, I have been going through my home and asking myself is this object or the next worth the clutter. Furthermore, as a extrovert having collected a lot of acquaintances and called them friends, I asked myself which relationships fill me, or help me grow, and which were to starve off being alone. I realized that in my gluttony of things and people, I was missing out on the more meaningful relationships with myself, my God, and others for which I longed. I realized that the kingdom of God isn’t cluttered, it is in the empty space left behind. The space that allows something small to start to grow. The space for a mustard seed, a pearl, yeast, a net, and treasure. 

These that the scripture mentions, are all tiny things, and so too is the beginning of the Kingdom of God. It doesn’t start with the giant shrub with the nest holding the birds. It doesn’t start with 100 loaves of bread. It doesn’t start with a net full. It doesn’t start with a field of treasure all your own. It doesn’t start with the most valuable pearl. It doesn’t start feeling like everything is great and God is walking beside you constantly and you have no need for earthy bounty. That is the promise of someday. Jesus is promising this someday, but promises are also for now. Promises are the beginnings of someday, promises are things which keep you going back and checking. 

The kingdom of heaven begins that you plant a mustard seed, and you wait and you try not to plant other things that shadow it’s sun. I notice the mustard sprout that has grown in my closet when I don’t care that I wear the same clothes twice a week because it’s my favorite. The promise is that God loves and welcomes us in our well worn favorite so much that we don’t need so many distractions of superfluous decisions. 

The kingdom of heaven begins that you mix in the yeast and you wait and you try not to get your fill on things which will not ultimately satisfy your hunger. I notice when I allow myself a quiet evening where yeast can rise, instead of time with acquaintances, I see the promise of peace in how much I enjoy getting things done, or reading a book, or falling asleep on the early side.

The Kingdom of heaven begins that you search for pearls and you wait, and you try not to adorn yourself with the jewelry of this life trading it in for the glories of the next. Yes, I am one who sees what could be done to make a space beautiful, and maybe you have your own lists of projects and priorities, but I have the promise as I've gotten more at ease with allowing things to be unfinished, and for the vulnerable honesty and comfort of imperfection to be championed. The promise that we are enough just as we are.

The kingdom of heaven begins, when you walk through a field and notice treasure and you wait until you can buy it full, instead of squandering what will be your inheritance on the frivolousness of now. I have tried not to buy new things, or things I don’t need, and because it has allowed me to be in a more comfortable spot financially I have found the promise that lies in the joy of giving.

The kingdom of heaven begins when you cast the net and you wait trying to appreciate the smell of the sea and glitter of waves, so that I don’t pull it in too early with too little to feed you. I have been trying to focus on the promise that things as small as the smell of the sea, and the glitter of the waves, and spots of rain on my back as I run on a cloudy day, can fill my belly full as much as bounty. The promise that the kingdom of God is not only in someday, but that the kingdom of God is in the smallest of every day. 

It is a hard thing to trust, but like any promise, the more we lean in, the more we check back to watch it grow, the more God will sustain us. Therefore, as Jesus said to the disciples, he also says to you, “Every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.” Go and go likewise, let us prepare for the kingdom of God, someday and everyday. 

June 4, 2017 Matthew 13.24-30, 36-43

He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep,

an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. 

So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. 

And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, 

‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? 

Where, then, did these weeds come from?’ 

He answered, ‘An enemy has done this.’

 The slaves said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’ 

But he replied, ‘No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned,  but gather the wheat into my barn.’” 

Then he left the crowds and went into the house. And his disciples approached him, saying, “Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field.” 

He answered, “The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man; the field is the world, 

and the good seed are the children of the kingdom; the weeds are the children of the evil one, and the enemy who sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels. Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!

****

  

This is not a fun scripture, and one I have been intimidated by for the last couple weeks in preparation for preaching. It seems to say that the evil one is constantly at work and if you are bad you are going to be swept into the fire, and includes that there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Meanwhile, if you are good you will shine like the sun. My first thought is how simplistic, and my second is, “yikes!” Yikes because, I neither think people are this one sided (good or bad), nor do I believe God is this harshly judgmental, and so I have to look at this scripture with a less literal eye, while still respecting what the scripture says and Jesus explains. And one thing Jesus is talking about is the harvest at the end of the age. And in some sense, this is what happens to our church in late May. 

 

 Since September we have been planting, and sowing and watching things grow and now is harvest time. We have written and applied for a sabbatical grant for the church and myself your pastor and we will hear in August. We have decorated the church for it’s seasons and it has been beautiful and inspiring. So many, especially the Buildings and Grounds Committee have prepared the church during its crazy winter season and helped us survive through all the sewer, plumbing, roofing issues etc. we had and continue to have.  These people and their efforts are the wheat. We transitioned beautifully from having LaVonne be an amazing treasurer, to working smoothly with Guyer and Associates. We have watched new leaders thrive in the Backpack Program, and we have successfully navigated supporting a more challenging group of seventh graders at Open Door, it was not easy wheat to grow, but it taught us how valued the wheat we create down in the basement is. Lectionary Bible Study has been invigorating with new faces meeting long term participants and engaging discussions. We have seen some of our little ones begin to grow up - from being baptized, to participating more in worship, and wowing us with their Christmas Program. Likewise, we have watched Kourtney Lehman prepare to graduate and so many of you were there yesterday and on Graduate Sunday to recognize her and wish her well, as she has given so much wheat to the church. So too, do we see the harvest in people like Sharon Defrees and Deb Trapp as the prepare to retire after years of dedication and service to students and their community. Or we watch people like Molly Smith be awarded a math teaching award and then be offered the position of Principal at North Powder! This is the harvest, these are signs of the wheat. 

 

But there are also the weeds we have burned, and it isn’t a particularly bad thing. We have stepped back from doing two little kids Sunday School classes all the time to having one. This has created a really fun atmosphere with tons of great projects shared between the McClaughry's and Linda Moxon. We also scaled back Youth Group to twice a month, so that with fewer kids, having graduated so many in the past couple years, we could all focus on those couple times a month together, rather than spreading everyone thin each week. I don’t know if anyone noticed, but we have not even opened the Kid’s Closet, which would hand out things for Christmas and other holidays, and instead Women’s Support Group, and others, have realized with aging members and therefore dwindling numbers, that they are going to focus on that special time together, and the things they can do, and do so well, like caring during funerals, helping with folding the newsletter with systematic, skilled, proficiency, and not doing so, so many little things. It was a hard realization that took years to come to, but because they collected the weeds, there is more room for naming what really makes them flourish. I see a new energy in Women’s Support Group these days. Mission Committee also has named their focus as Open Door and Backpack which are huge undertakings themselves, and could each be nonprofits with boards and volunteers and even staff. Therefore, because so much wheat is flourishing in those places, things like Turkey Bucks have been passed on to Safeway where more people than our own membership can donate while still allowing us the opportunity to give there. Meanwhile, each volunteer at the Backpack Program has hauled literally a ton of food, with I think what was seventeen total. For Vacation Bible School this year we Melissa and Annie are leading us in trying something different and the excitement is growing for instead of four days as we have always done it, to have one evening full of campfire songs, and food, and crafts and music, and scripture! What fun. This is the wheat that has been harvested because we didn’t get lost in the weeds. 

 

Now I know, some of these things might make you sad, what about Sunday School, what about Youth Group, what about the Women’s Support Group Auction, we have done these things for years and now there isn’t enough energy or people for them. We need more people, I hear often, yet, when I served a church of 1,500, it was even harder to find youth group volunteers (when you have 100 youth, you need more than Annalea and Zach - a 1 to 50 ratio isn’t good and here we have like 2 to five! So, it isn’t about more people, its about trust and focus. And I think this is part of what this scripture is saying to us, especially at Pentecost, especially at this birthday of the church. 

 

On birthdays we look over the past year, or years and see how far we have come, and likewise, we rejoice for all the wonderful things that are happening and the character of the person we love. Well, Pentecost, it is the church’s birthday, and the church has been alive since Jesus, and these stories are still being told, and the Holy Spirit is still separating out the weeds from the wheat, so that there is a bountiful harvest. It’s laughable to think of Jesus insisting on two Sunday School classes because his focus was bigger, he said let the children come to me, and just because it looks different today then it did then, and today then it did three years ago, doesn’t mean that we or the Holy Spirit have fallen down. In fact, I would say the opposite, it means we are focusing on where Jesus is calling us, we are listening to what are the weeds and what is the wheat. For our own local church, we have been around since 1884, this town was a gold rush town and four women got together and wanted to create a Presbyterian Church, and so they did, do we do it the same as they did, no, but likewise, we have some of the most committed and wise group of elders working together than I have ever witnessed. Do we look like the church of the fifties and sixties with families like the Johnsons and the Cassidy’s taking up whole pews, no (unless its Christmas, or the Christmas Program and we do have the whole Johnson clan back in town). But does that make our humble showing on a Memorial Day Sunday any less, No! God is still present, the Holy Spirit is still at work, we are still very much alive and flourishing, but instead of having a field of weeds and wheat, we are really focusing on having a field of wheat. I think this is a pretty happy birthday for the church! I think we have a lot to be proud of. I think the Holy Spirit is so alive in this place. The righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen! It is our Birthday, the Birth of the church, lets Celebrate!