Sunday, November 24, 2024

Dear Friends, 

On Sunday, we will celebrate Commitment Sunday at the Talmadge Hill Church.  

Commitment is a deep word.  It points to other words like persistence, steadfastness, loyalty.  In my opinion, God doesn’t want us to be committed for commitment’s sake.  There isn’t much value in being miserably committed.  It’s not a badge of honor.    

In some cases, commitment can be reduced to doing the right thing.  Taking care of an aging parent seems to be the right thing to do whether you like it or not.  But in many other cases, commitment should be reserved for those relationships and causes where mutual satisfaction, growth and enjoyment take place.  Commitment helps to protect those relationships and causes.  Commitment holds the center when feelings are threatened by impulse.  

Commitment to a church is worthy of consideration.  It provokes questions.  Am I really committed to my spiritual journey?  Is it a priority in my life or something less important?  Does worship feed me?  Does the community meet a real need in my life?  Am I a better human being because of my faith and my relationship with church?  Before Sunday, I would encourage all of us to consider, and then answer, these questions.  Are you satisfied with your answers?  If so, awesome.  If not, what are you prepared to do to make the necessary changes.           

Obviously, my hope is that your relationship with the Talmadge Hill Community Church is deeply satisfying, nourishing, and at least some of the time enjoyable.  My hope is that you are receiving from us some measure of comfort, encouragement and grace.  And perhaps most importantly, I hope you are getting a perspective on life that you might not get anywhere else.

If so, please commit yourselves once again to this perfectly imperfect community of faith.  Your commitment holds the center.  Your commitment protects our legacy.  Your commitment begets the next chapter in our story.  

Blessings, 

Carter  

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Dear Friends,
 
We are under construction. We are building something at Talmadge Hill.  No, we aren’t planning any big renovations to our charming 150-year-old building any time soon.  But we are building our faith, we are building God’s kingdom and we are building the future for us, our community and generations that come after us. You are a vital part of that.
 
The future isn’t just some place “out there” that we are reaching for. As poet Emily Dickinson said, “forever is composed of nows.” What can you commit to now that will fuel the forever you envision?
 
As we ponder all the spiritual gifts of the Thanksgiving season and as we think about the “harvest” of our lives, it is a wonderful time to think of how we use these gifts. That is the essence of Stewardship. Think about how you demonstrate your commitment to God and your commitment to growing your faith. Think about your role in creating the possibilities that generate the hope that is woven into the fabric of your life and the fabric of the world. It is all connected. 
 
Our future as a church is one of possibility and hope and it reflects our commitment to God and each other.  As we build our future and as we watch it unfold together, I hope that our generosity will help us encounter new dimensions of our faith and new possibilities for our amazing church community. There is always something beyond the present.  Let’s demonstrate our bold hope by generously committing to all that you will be and all that we can build together.
 
Love,
Cheryl

Sunday, November 10, 2024

Dear Friends, 

My friend, Mary Zeman, shared a short piece this week from Nikita Gill.  It reads:

“Everything is on fire,
but everyone I love is doing beautiful things
and trying to make life worth living,
and I know I don’t have to believe in everything,
but I believe in that.”

For sure, this week has elicited intense feelings for lots of Americans.  Some are deeply disappointed and sad.  Some are disappointed and angry.  Some are disappointed, sad, angry and afraid.  Some are worried and hopeful.  Some are pleased, if not joyful.  Wow. That is quite a range of emotions.  

What if we decided in a conscious and intentional way NOT to judge (at least right now) how someone else is feeling?  What if we listened carefully to the pregnant woman who feels less safe because of Trump?  What if we imagined ourselves in the shoes of a Guatemalan farmworker who picks the fruit that comes to our grocery stores … but is at risk of being deported?  What if we listened to the young men in West Virginia, Tennessee, Oklahoma, South Dakota, Wyoming who are angry and convinced that the American Dream left them behind years ago?  Wherever you land with your sympathies, there is an opportunity here to practice more empathy than usual.  I believe it is the way of our faith.

Here is another opportunity.  Let’s get serious about redefining ‘safe space’.  Safe doesn’t mean everyone should be even-keeled.  It doesn’t mean that people do not get angry and say things they wish they had not.  It doesn’t mean that people don’t vehemently disagree.  What if safe means we practice apologizing, we offer forgiveness, we seek by whatever means to repair what is broken?  That is the kind of community that Jesus outlines for us in the New Testament.  I would feel safe enough in that kind of community, and that’s all any of us need – to feel safe enough.        

I do love the words of Nikita Gill.  In this season of turmoil and uncertainty, I am going to keep company with people who are doing beautiful things AND working hard to make life worth living.  I do not care if they are left-leaning or right-leaning.  

For all of us live by grace.

Carter

Sunday, November 3, 2024

Dear Friends,

As you crunch the leaves under your feet (and, perhaps, a leftover Kit-Kat bar from Halloween), take some time to notice the holiness of this season.  Yes, Holiness. Cultures around the world have celebrated this week on the calendar as a liminal time in the year where heaven and earth are closer than ever. How do we celebrate this holiness?
 
This weekend we join Christians all around the world as we celebrate All Saints Day.  Of course, we do it in the most wonderfully Talmadge Hill way, where we lift up the saints in our midst and our lives. Think of all the people who have sustained you and brought you to this moment. Some remain in our midst and others are only memories. Yet all of these saints have somehow blessed our earthly lives by helping us open up to God’s grace by their words, deeds and example.
 
Our church is a delightful historic church whose splendor is in its simplicity. We don’t have stained glass windows honoring the saints of old. Rather, our color and our magnificence come from the people and lives we celebrate inside. We look forward to lifting up all of our saints – living and dead – whose lives bring grace to ours every day. Your presence and your spirit will only add to this.  Please join us on Sunday.
 
Love,
Cheryl

Sunday, October 27, 2024

Dear Friends,
 
Sunday is poetry Sunday!  Why is that important? What does poetry do?
As a church is it important to us because roughly a third of our Bible is poetry. It’s amazing that the poetic verses in scripture written over 2000 years ago continue to evoke meaning and promise in our contemporary world. In addition, as one of my most memorable high school English teachers taught me, poetry does NO-THING. Yes, in other words, poetry does nothing. Think about that. Its vast mystery is revealed in unique ways to each person who encounters it. Herein lies its power and promise: in that space of wonder and personal discernment, poetry can lead us closer to God, who, as the mystics remind us, is also “no thing.” Most of all, good poetry has never quite lost its power to capture our deep longing to find sense in a bewildering universe. 
 
This resonates with me. When I read great poetry, I find myself moved beyond utilitarian conceptions of language. In poetry, language is not treated as if it exists to achieve some human consequence, to make me buy a product or even to make me feel or react in a particular way. It doesn’t exist to harry me into a specific political or emotional response. Rather, it will always be allusive, and it will always gesture toward mystery and something beyond the words that provide its scaffolding. As Rowan Williams, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, said, “If
poems do not change the outside world, they change the landscape of language so that space appears.” 
 
While poetry will always be too vast to reduce to any one angle, this Sunday we can celebrate what it means to us. For me, poetry puts me at the intersection of wisdom and wonder, a place that beckons the spirit, the psyche and the lived human experience.  Join us on Sunday where we open up this amazing space anew.  I look forward to seeing you – and don’t forget to bring your favorite poem.
 
Love,
Cheryl