Fellowship of Believers

I hope you've been enjoying our readings from Bread and Wine as much as I have.

As we get closer to the events of Holy Week - in particular, the darkness of Good Friday - I want to share with you these words from Morton T. Kelsey, a 20th century Episcopal minister and professor at Notre Dame. He writes about the people gathered around the crucifixion of Christ:

Then there was the nameless carpenter who made the cross. He was a skilled workman. He knew full well what the purpose of that cross was. If you questioned him he probably would have said: "But I am a poor man who must make a living. If other men use it for ill, is it my fault?" So say all of us who pursue jobs which add nothing to human welfare or which hurt some people. Does the work I do aid or hinder human beings? Are we crossmakers for our modern world?

See you Sunday,
Tracy

Please make note of the many events that will be happening in the coming days. Dates are posted in the sidebar on the left of this page.

"Ripples of Faith" is an Easter Emphasis of worship services that we will share together the Sundays between Easter and Pentecost. The ideas for this worship series began in my studies at school, but the flavor of the worship will feel very much life Fellowship of Believers. There are important ways for people to be involved in this series of worship experiences - let me know if you want to help.

Summer events include Youth Camp, Mission Trip to El Paso, Vacation Bible School, and Children's Camp. These events aren't just for our young people, but for those who are young at heart. More information will be shared as the events draw closer.

In a week Rob and I are taking a trip to El Paso to work out the details of our Mission Trip this summer. I hope several of you are planning to go. Just as there is important work to be done in Hereford, there is important work that can be done in other parts of the world. There's something life-changing that happens when you give your time and energy in a focused and significant time like a mission trip. I promise you, if you go with us to El Paso, you will come home a different person.

God calls us to serve,
Tracy

Anna and I made one of our trips to Lubbock today to see her specialist - all good news to report.

As we passed through Springlake I noticed a building off to the side of the road. I'm sure I've seen it before, though I can't seem to remember. By its shape it is easy to tell that it was once a church. For all I know, it may still be a church . . . but I don't think so. You see, on the side of the building, in big letters, are the words "Odd Assortments."

My first inclination is that this former church is now a thrift-shop of some kind - you know, like someone's permanent garage sale. I imagine inside are out-of-date clothes, discarded nick-knacks, a few old tools, perhaps a pink flamingo lawn ornament - the sorts of things that might gather and collect dust in a rummage shop named "Odd Assortments."

But as I drive by, I also like to imagine that "Odd Assortments" is still a church - perhaps the best named church in the world. After all, isn't that what we are - an odd assortment of fallen creatures who gather now and then to seek encouragement? Aren't we nothing less than odd, dysfunctional children who bear little resemblance to one another - even less to our parent - and yet here we are, shelved together each Sunday, somehow belonging?

Milk glass belongs next to old National Geographic magazines.
The well-worn egg beater belongs next to the thin baby dress with the hand-smocked bodice.
The sturdy plow belongs next to the six pack of empty coca-cola bottles.

And you belong next to me.

That's what church is all about.
tyd

Mother Teresa gives us these words from Jesus, found in Bread and Wine, the book we're discussing Sundays in Forum. But they also speak to our sermon for tomorrow:

No matter how far you may wander, no matter how often you forget me, no matter how many crosses you bear in this life, there is one thing I want you to remember always, one thing that will never change: I thirst for you - just as you are. You don't need to change to believe in my love, for it will be your belief in my love that will change you. You forget me, and yet I am seeking you every moment of the day - standing at the door of your heart, and knocking.

Come see the one who seeks you this Sunday.
Tracy

This Sunday in Forum we will continue our discussion of the book Bread and Wine with readings from the section titled "Temptation."

Author Fleming Rutledge gives us this thought to ponder as we head toward Sunday:

How do we measure the size of a fire? By the number of firefighters and fire engines sent to fight against it. How do we measure the seriousness of a medical condition? By the amount of risk the doctors take in prescribing dangerous antibotics or surgical procedures. How do we measure the gravity of sin and the incomparable vastness of God's love for us? By looking at the magnitude of what God has done for us in Jesus, who became like a common criminial for our sake and in our place.

I'll see you at church,
Tracy

The readings for Forum this week come from the "Invitation" section of our book Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter. Copies of the book are still available at the church - I encourage you to pick one up.

I offer you an exerpt from one of this week's essays for your consideration:

Forgiveness of sins is what the gospel is all about. Forgiveness of sins is what Christ's death upon the cross is all about. The purpose of Lent is to arouse. To arouse the sense of sin. To arouse a sense of guilt of sin. To arouse the humble contrition for the guilt of sin that makes forgiveness possible. To arouse the sense of gratitude for the forgiveness of sins. To arouse or to motivate the works of love and the work for justice that one does out of gratitude for the forgiveness of one's sins.

To say it again - this time, backward: There is no motivation for works of love without a sense of gratitude, no sense of gratitude without forgiveness, no forgiveness without contrition, no contrition without a sense of guilt, no sense of guilt without a sense of sin.
-Edna Hong

I'll see you Sunday,
Tracy