“In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, 
and in between them, there are doors.”
(William Blake, late 18th/early 19th century poet)

Blake’s words are visceral, evoking muscle memory as well as emotional memory. We know what it is to move from one space to another, opening a door, crossing its threshold. We normally do not think anything of it in our everyday lives. But when we speak of the meaning of liminal, “of or pertaining to a threshold,” when we think of liminal space in our lives, in our souls, we receive Blake’s image with a powerful punch. The crossing from known to unknown (and perhaps, back again) may be exciting, quick, full of fiery imagination. It may be excruciatingly slow, inch by inch, from light into darkness, before there is the possibility of finding light again. Or something in between. 
 
Whatever it is, to be in liminal space is to stand on the threshold just before taking that next step into the next room. It is a place of grace that usually does not feel particularly grace-full, but often hard, dangerous. As Father Richard Rohr has written it is a place of such vulnerability and openness that there is room for something genuinely new to happen. “We are empty and receptive—erased tablets waiting for new words. Liminal space is where we are most teachable, often because we are most humbled.”
 
In this global pandemic, we are all currently in liminal space. We have been sheltering in place for two months or more. “Staying safer at home” has become known to us. It’s become our routine. And now there is talk of re-opening society. Finding, hopefully, safe ways to come together again in person. For some of us this is such welcome talk! For others it is terrifying. For others it just creates a low-level sense of dis-ease. And some of us are in the lonely place of knowing we will not re-enter society until there is a vaccine….and when will that be?! All of these reactions to moving into the unknown of what our new “normal” will look like as we continue to grapple with this pandemic leave us in liminal space. 
 
I want to reassure you that your pastors and church staff are considering ALL of the reactions above as we move from the “known” of sheltering in place, livestream worship, and Zoom meetings into the “unknown” of what is next. We do not yet have ready answers or safe formulas that can make the “unknown” of re-opening feel entirely comfortable or doable. We are using the scientific data and the health precautions from trusted Colorado and national institutions of health, as well as research and models from national church leaders in multiple mainline denominations, to fuel our vision for Plymouth’s re-opening. 
 
The bottom line is that “church” is going to look different from here on out. It will never look entirely the same as it did in February of this year. What has not changed is the Love of God that brings us together, calling us to worship, to care for one another, to deepen our spiritual lives in study and prayer, to minister beyond our walls to those who are in need. You all know that the church is not the building, as beloved as it may be with its memories of fellowship and worship. The church is You. It is US held in the creative container of God’s love. 
 
So, know that as your pastors and staff, we miss you all!! Know that we are here for one another by phone and Zoom and livestream. Know that the connection of our sacred bond as community is not broken and cannot be even by a global pandemic. Be patient with yourself, with your family, with your church leadership and community as we move from our current “known” across the threshold into the “unknown.” “Known” and “unknown” – it is all held in the heart of God.
 
With you on this journey,
Jane Anne

I was stunned to see that some Roman Catholic parishes in Colorado are opening for in-person worship…though with masks, social distancing, no communion, no one over 65. When I read about the Catholic parishes, I couldn’t help thinking about the Evangelical-Reformed Cathedral in Berlin, where 59 of 78 choir members were stricken with the coronavirus…or the United Church of Canada congregation in Calgary that gathered for a birthday party in March; 24 of 41 people were infected with coronavirus, and two died. Their minister said, “I would do anything for a do-over.”

Later this week, your ministers and program staff will start a discussion about what (not when) it might look like eventually to reopen. And it will be different from what we knew before, and various groups will have different types of gradual re-opening. It will be done with the utmost care…I don’t want to need a do-over. Please continue to be wise and safe!

The Leadership Council is in the process of forming a strategic planning team, something we had on the docket for 2020 anyway, but our planning this fall will be in a very different context for a church than it would have been without the pandemic. We will be consulting with John Wimberly of Congregational Consulting Group (alumni of the late Alban Institute), and we will really consider the future of the church in a new reality. It may seem crazy, but I am really excited about the possibilities of who Plymouth can become! One learning for most of us is that the church is the gathered body of members, not our building at 916 Prospect Road. We are still the church! We are still people at worship, in service, doing ministry together.

We won’t waste the opportunity of a crisis to make something beautiful happen with God and with each other!

Shalom,

P.S. If you haven’t seen this pandemic-related story, please watch it and wonder…

by Rev. Carla Cain

I am a coffee drinker. Actually, one might say I am a coffee snob. I like it hot, black and smooth. I make my coffee first thing when I wake in the morning and it goes nicely with my morning devotional reading and my news intake.

Drinking coffee is part of my daily spiritual practice. And my cup symbolizes a connection or an emotion that it evokes. The cup I drink from has meaning. Each cup I drink from has a story. It is a holy part of my ritual.

When I moved to Colorado I downsized my coffee cups. I only brought with me those that fulfilled my more current spiritual path. Those I left behind at the local donation center had fulfilled their role in my sacred coffee journey. Besides this cup below, another favorite says: “Well behaved women rarely make history." It is my reminder to never be small.

The current cup I am drinking from says ‘Pastor’ and was a gift from some very dear friends for my ordination. This morning, after months and months of using this cup regularly, I actually read what it said (beyond ‘Pastor’). It’s funny how I had not read or spend any time reflecting on the nutritional facts as listed. Those facts listed for a pastor include: hard working, passion, determination, pride, mercy, love and faith.

And, of course I don’t take these things seriously but I began to wonder what the true nutritional facts would be, not only for me but for you. For instance, where is fun, creative, caring, contemplative, strategic or doubting as ‘nutritional facts’ for a pastor?

They are called nutritional facts on the coffee cup, but I think of them as things or attributes that keep me in connection with God and my service to this work. It is really important during these uncertain times that we all recognize that God is present and active in our lives. Regular spiritual practices, regular prayer or connecting with creation are ways to keep us awake.

And all of this is to say, what are the (nutritional) facts that connect you with God in your spiritual practice? What are those things that remind you of the existence of God no matter what is happening in your life?

As always, please feel free to let me know your answers or reach out for guidance along the journey. My prayer is that you feel that strong presence of God dwelling within you.

Hello Plymouth!

For this week’s staff reflection, I thought I’d change things up a bit and send you a video message instead of an essay.

This is a Spiritual Practice much like the ones that I share Mondays at 1pm on Facebook Live. You can watch the past videos on the youth Christian Formation page. 

I miss you! Stay safe!

Grace and Peace,
Mandy

Dear Plymouth,

How is your soul?

I have a dear, longtime friend, who often begins her conversations with this question, “How is your soul?" I always appreciate that someone cares about my soul, that someone draws my attention to it in the midst of life’s distractions. It is always a blessing to hear this question. So I ask you, friends, in these days of sheltering in place, of isolation, and even quarantine for some of you, how are your souls?

At times, my soul seems numb to all the pain and suffering in the world, to the discord and dysfunction of national leadership, to the extreme needs of those who do not have jobs they can work at home or those who do not have homes at this time. I cannot take it all in and I feel helpless.

At times, my soul is grateful for the greater abundance of silence and solitude I am having. More time to establish a deeper prayer and meditation routine. More time to read. More time to just BE. Time to watch the birds at the bird feeders. Time to walk and watch spring emerge.

At other times, my soul is impatient! Even impatient to the point of anger! Impatient with the lack of supplies for our medical workers in a country that sees itself as the most abundant in the world. Impatient with people who do not seem to be taking the seriousness of this pandemic to heart. Impatient with those who are not seeing how deeply we are all connected in the world.

This virus has revealed in a terrifyingly clear way that we are all connected in creation. No one is an island, no community is an island, no state or country is an island. The earth and all humanity and all living flora and fauna and the air we breathe and the land we live on and that sustains us with food and shelter – we are connected. My soul is eager, impatient to discover how we will take this to heart as a lesson hard learned from the pandemic.

At times my soul is very sad as it does take in the gravity and the immensity of the suffering emanating from the consequences of these times. At times my soul is worried and fearful for the health of loved ones, for the economic plight of so many friends who work in a gig economy. At times my soul is weeping from the pain.

At times my soul takes heart in a renewed sense of the presence of the Holy One who is still mysteriously holding all of creation in Love. These are the times I cherish. These are the times I have not said my prayers in haste, rushing off to the next meeting. I have taken the time to sink into the presence of the Holy, who I am sensing these days as Mother. I take time to pour my heart out to the Divine that is strong, powerful and compassionate, full of comfort. The time I spend with the Holy empowers me to move back into work, into relationship and into finding the seemingly small things that I can do to make a difference during these times of fear, uncertainty, and dis-ease.

How is your soul?

I invite you to ponder this question today and throughout your week, even as we hear the news of “re-opening” measures. What will you keep from your time of isolation? What will you let go from the time before pandemic that you have discovered you do not need? How is your soul in its divine relationship with the Holy directing you to move ahead as we continue to shelter one another in this completely connected world God has given us?

I leave you with words from Psalm 116 taken from the book, Psalms for Praying, by Nan Merrill.

Receive my love, O Beloved, You who hear my voice and my supplication.

You incline your ear to me, and I will call upon You with trust
for as long as I live.
When the snares of fear encompass me, when the pangs of loneliness envelop me,
I suffer distress and anguish.
Then I call upon you, my Rock: “O Beloved, I beseech you, come to my aid!”

Gracious are You and just; the Heart of all hearts is merciful and forgiving.
You preserve the simple; though I am humbled, You lift me up.
Return, O my soul, to your rest; for You, O Loving Companion Presence,
bestow grace upon grace, a balm for my soul.

You raise me up to new life; You dry my tears,
and guide my feet on straight paths.
Now, I walk hand in hand with Love in the land of the awakened ones.
I keep my faith, even in times of great turmoil;
I invite others to awaken to the joy of your Presence.

Blessings on the journey,

As Plymouth’s Treasurer I am so thankful for

• Plymouth’s ministers and staff who used their imagination and skills to ensure Sunday services continue and that the congregation can continue to learn, network, meet, and enjoy each other virtually during this time of social distancing.
• My Treasurer predecessors and former members of the Leadership Council who have ensured Plymouth has a healthy rainy-day fund to get us through the Coronavirus Pandemic.
• My Treasurer predecessors who implemented the Evergreen Partners contribution program.
• My Treasurer predecessors who implemented the Text Giving program.
• The members of Plymouth who made their 2020 contributions by early March.
• The members of Plymouth who prepaid their 2020 contributions in 2019.
• The members of Plymouth who make their contributions monthly through the Evergreen Partners program.
• The members of Plymouth who make their contributions by Text Giving.
• The members of Plymouth who mail their contributions to Plymouth.
• The members of Plymouth who have their financial institution mail their contributions to Plymouth.
• Plymouth’s Trustees who are keeping the facilities maintained during the closure
• Keith Schulz who is ensuring the income from the parking lot continues to flow to Plymouth.
• Plymouth’s Assistant Treasurer, George Theodore, who provides his insights into managing Plymouth’s finances.
• Plymouth’s Budget and Finance Committee which asks inquisitive questions and supports financial programs.
• Plymouth’s Leadership Council which provides the directions and priorities for Plymouth’s financial programs.
• Hal whose leadership takes Plymouth in creative directions and growth.

Recently I viewed a social distancing presentation of one of my favorite Beatles songs – "Let It Be." As the third verse says,

“And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me
Shine on ‘till tomorrow, let it be
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking Words of wisdom let it be”

I’m thankful to know that social distancing and the Coronavirus Pandemic will end and the light will shine on us tomorrow!

Jim Medlock, Treasurer

This may surprise you, but I LOVE CHURCH. I love Sundays when we gather as a community to read liturgy, pray, sing familiar songs, connect with each other and learn in our educational programs. As churches around the country close their doors and open up Facebook Live, YouTube, and Zoom to for their worship services, there is a lot of chatter that the church is not a building. And, there is a lot of talk that society will forever be changed by having experienced COVID-19, including the institution of the church. Being adaptable is key and that also brings with it challenges.

Your church is finding new ways to worship, connect and care for you. We have increased our online presence, we are reaching out more by phone and mail, and we have increased our care by providing supplies and financial assistance and so much more. Please let us know if you need anything.

So while the church is not the building, we have enjoyed reaching beyond our walls and our physical boundaries and hearing from folks afar. Yet, I know all of the staff at Plymouth looks forward to us all being together in the building again AND with those online. It’s too early to tell how this pandemic will impact the institution of the church, but I know the Plymouth will adapt to effective ways to be the living faith.

Holy Week is upon us and Maundy Thursday is my favorite worship service of the entire church calendar. I even love Good Friday when there is darkness because we move to silence on Saturday, then finally the celebration of ‘He Is Risen’ on Easter Sunday. I wonder if we are ready for Easter. The pandemic news is dire for some and uncertainty surrounds us. I know I am ready for the Easter message that moves us from death to resurrection to new life.

I wonder what it is like for you to worship via Facebook Live? Let us know.

Carla

by the Rev. Dr. Mark Lee

Over these last two weeks, I’ve read many people say that this current situation is “apocalyptic.” This is one of those theological terms that has captured the popular imagination. I think people are right to use it, though not in quite the way they think.

Usually something is referred to as apocalyptic when there is extraordinary disaster or catastrophe. The first definition offered on Google is, “1. the complete final destruction of the world, as described in the biblical book of Revelation and 2. an event involving destruction or damage on an awesome or catastrophic scale." The older name for the last book of the Bible we usually call the Book of Revelation is “The Apocalypse.” Images of pestilence, ecological catastrophe, drought, earthquakes, floods, loosed demons, war in heaven and on earth, and finally, the complete end of the present age and the world it inhabits fill much of the book. For the apostle John who saw these visions, and for the community to whom he was writing, this was not an exercise in disaster porn. It wasn’t even the schadenfreude of seeing their oppressors judged and destroyed by God. Cinematic horror films terribly miss the point. It was a deep encouragement that despite their persecution unto martyrdom, God has not forgotten them, remembers their suffering and faithfulness, and will rescue and reward them in the End. That is the point of the book of Revelation; that is what is being revealed in this book.

Which is the core meaning of “apocalyptic”: revealing, unveiling, showing forth, exposing the reality of things. In the vision John saw, God lifted the veil off the everyday news of the tribulations his community was enduring and showed them the deep truth of God’s work in the universe on their behalf. It is this meaning that is more helpful as we consider our own situation to be “apocalyptic.”

What has this virus revealed? What has been exposed? Some may be things we already knew, but stand in sharper view, others may be things that have been hidden but are now clear. So we now see that our country’s medical system has enormous gaps in its organization, financing, and delivery. We see people’s resistance to change until a situation affects them directly. We see that focusing solely on profit to the exclusion of other stakeholders warps the actions of corporations. This crisis lays bare longstanding fissures of race and class we usually prefer to ignore but now cannot. We see the bankruptcy of ideologies that divide us from the rest of the world and from one another. We see how government can mobilize vast resources which no individual church, community or company can mobilize alone. We see the practical results of wise management versus corrupt management of those resources, seeing which lives are valued and which are lost. This apocalypse reveals things about our society we must deal with. You cannot unsee these things.

This also reveals things at a more personal level. Being yanked out of my normal routines and connections, I have had to face my own fears. Every scratchy throat or cough, and I wonder, “Is this IT?” Will the economy collapse so severely and for so long that my paycheck and my husband’s pension dry up? What about my 87-year-old father, what if he gets it and I can’t help? What if this lasts so long that we really, truly, completely run out of … toilet paper!? Will I have to install one of those nifty hand spray bidets that were everywhere in the Middle East? And learn to use it without spraying it all over everything in every direction? What if I get sick when the hospital is overwhelmed, and because of my age and medical history don’t make the triage cut? And what about…. I’ve been having weirder dreams than usual, and even some nightmares, subconscious alarm bells sounding. I remind myself that we have not landed in a “Mad Max” movie.

And then there is the anger. I don’t do anger well, so like to keep it well quashed (which my therapist keeps saying isn’t the right approach). I watch the news and see certain politician’s policies, and my blood boils. Yelling at the TV is only so satisfying. So I get snarky with my husband and grouchy with the animals. Or I go on Facebook, and see the same stories magnified time upon time. In a fit of pique, I write a massive screed, to REALLY tell off the Stupid Person who reposted the Dumb Thing. My anger combines with others who also have time hanging heavy on their hands, and normally placid chat rooms and email lists become hotbeds of misunderstanding, intrigue and drama. Better to channel my anger at this whole situation into constructive work, efforts that are pro-active instead of reactive, telling the world what I do believe rather than why someone else is wrong. Because the anger unmanaged makes my obviously correct and righteous views toxic to me -- and doesn’t convince whoever I’m writing at anyway. I would do far better to close the laptop and go work in the garden. Or cook. Or read a book. Or play with the dog. Or nap. Or what about praying!

Thank God that fear and anger are not all that is being revealed. I see creativity, care and compassion as well.

Our situation has revealed an amazing outpouring of creativity. I’ve seen colleagues who never imagined live-streaming church come up with a huge variety of ways to keep people connected with God and one another. Some, like Plymouth, livestream their services, with either a skeleton crew at the building or with different people contributing parts of the service from their homes. Some have assembled prepared clips of musicians, preachers, readings and edit them together. I’ve seen an explosion of online devotionals, musical offerings, children’s stories, and even fellowship time. I’ve seen poems online from people I had no idea wrote poetry, and strings of uncaptioned beautiful landscape photos “so we can still travel in our hearts.” The best thing I’ve seen? A hilarious “blooper reel” of worship outtakes by some clergy friends, which let me know that their polished presentation (of which I was vaguely jealous) was definitely not the first cut!

This virus has revealed deep wells of caring and sharing. I’ve had friends who I’ve not seen in many years set up online Virtual Coffee with me. Nearly every phone call, email or text includes people asking, “Do you need anything? I can shop for you, since you can’t go out.” People have contacted the church with the same offer, to be “Gofers” for those who are isolated. Others have offered funds to cover for those in a bind. Medical masks have been pulled from back cupboards and donated to hospitals. Folk let others into the checkout line ahead of them, smile at the clerks, and give them compliments for holding up amid the rush of extra work. Owners of small businesses are finding ways to keep employees on their health insurance even while furloughed. Many 12-Step groups are connecting online, providing live-saving support for people who might otherwise relapse – and helping those who do relapse to start living One Day At A Time once again. The stories of care are unlimited. Look for them.

This is an apocalypse worth paying attention to. Where it reveals things in society or our own psyche that need healing and change, we have Sabbath time and space to do so. Where it unveils the wells of love and compassion that already there, we can nurture those virtues. John’s Apocalypse does not end with fire and brimstone, but with the ever-loving presence of God:

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,

“See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.”

And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.” …Then he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life. Those who conquer will inherit these things, and I will be their God and they will be my children.” (Revelation 21:3-7)

I pray that promise is among the things this apocalypse is revealing to you. Or as a beloved mentor would tell me, “Fear not! This too shall pass.”

Peace,
Mark

PS: If you, like me, have a compromised immune system, or the calendar says you are “older” despite what you tell yourself, we have volunteers who are willing to do shopping or other simple errands for you. Also, if you need financial help, we have members who are willing to help out by donating through our church assistance funds. Contact one of the ministers (Hal, Carla, Jane Anne) and they will work to connect you.

by Mark Heiskanen
Director of Music

Those who I have worked with in rehearsal will have heard me speak to the virtues of silence. In a musical score, these easily dismissed moments are notated as rests. There are many kinds of rests expressing varied durations, literal or approximate. Sometimes, the only indication of a rest from a choral composer is a breath mark. So, how long is that breath? This decision by a performer or conductor is crucial to the phrasing and musical satisfaction of the work for music maker and listener alike. What one is basically determining is the value and quality of the silence.

Another way silence is expressed in musical terms is through articulation and agogic accents. As an organist, these tools are essential for an instrument that does not offer much in the way of touch sensitivity. One solution is to impose a variation of touch. In Baroque music, the standard approach is through the concept of Ordinary Touch. An articulated legato technique named by Baroque writers, the performer leaves a slight space between each note while retaining the forward momentum of a phrase. These tiny spaces offer rhythmic clarity and definition to each note played. This is a helpful approach for a musical style that often embodies a dance-like character. The agogic accent is a manipulation of the timing between two musical moments. For example, by delaying the onset of a chord following a rest by just a microsecond, a sense of anticipation and drama can be achieved. The maligned pregnant pause can be repurposed for sound artistic ends.

Thirty years ago, the band Depeche Mode released a video for a fantastic tune of theirs called "Enjoy the Silence." In the video, singer Dave Gahan, attired in the garb of a wandering king, travels through a scenic landscape carrying a cheap fold up chair. Occasionally, he is inspired by the view to set it up, have a seat, and take in the wondrous panorama of mountains and forests. After this brief interlude, he folds up the chair and continues his journey seeking out another scenic vantage point to enjoy. His lonely journey through the wilderness is only a metaphoric representation of the song's lyrics. But I have found this song title freely entering my mind these days.

When depicting the value of the musical rest in rehearsals, I have often offered the directive, "enjoy the silence!" It has value. And not just one beat, or two, or three...the value is in the quality of silence. The silence affects our perception of a musical phrase. The quality of the release of one note prepares for the onset of the next. We can perceive these subtleties of space whether consciously or not.

Here's to hoping we can all, in this time, appreciate the space in between. Enjoy.

Christ with me, Christ before me,
Christ behind me, Christ within me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ at my right, Christ at my left,
Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks to me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.
                                    From St. Patrick’s Breastplate
 
I write to you today sitting at my kitchen island as we all hunker down further into this time of self-isolation and quarantine. I just heard that my gym was closed for 30 days and my acupuncturist for 1-2 weeks. We will hold staff meeting today by Zoom conference calling. It seems there is another confirmed case of Covid-19 in Loveland. (Please pray for those involved! You can read about it here at the Larimer County website.) These are different, interesting, anxiety-producing times. 
 
Yet life goes on...And good things happen! Today we will celebrate Christopher Chorpenning’s 19th birthday with pizza and Guinness and Torte della Nona, our favorite Italian dessert! (Hal is making it as I write....wish I could insert the wonderful smells of custard and toasted pine nuts into this reflection!) Yesterday I walked in the sunshine and took pizza to a friend who had just moved and broken her hand in the process. Today we are receiving moisture that we always need in Colorado. What are you celebrating today?  
 
The quotation above from St. Patrick’s Breastplate, an ancient Irish loricaor hymn, reminds me that God in Christ is always with us, protecting, accompanying, healing. I have prayed with it often. The Breastplate is a very long 5th century hymn in the style of Druidic poetry that is attributed to St. Patrick. Each verse begins with the phrase, “I arise today” or “I bind to myself today” and calls for the divine protection of God in the Trinity, God as Creator, God as Christ, God as Spirit. (You can read the whole of it at this link.) 
 
Legend has it that St. Patrick sang this when an ambush was laid against him and his followers by the High King Learyto prevent him from going Tara to share the faith at the High King’s seat of power. A miracle happened and it appeared  to those lying in ambush that St. Patrick and his monks were wild deer with a fawn following them. (Thus, the hymn is also called, The Deer’s Cry.) They were protected because know that Patrick and his followers shared the faith all across Ireland. 
 
I invite you today to and in the coming days to use the portion of St. Patrick’s hymn quoted above as a prayer of protection when you are anxious You can also sing it! Below are words from a hymn in our hymnal that uses another portion of the Breastplate. And there is a link in the first line to an American choir singing the same tune in our hymnal. 

I sing as I arise today! 
I call on my Creator’s might: 
The will of God to be my guide, 
The eye of God to be my sight,
The word of God to be my speech, 
The hand of God to be my stay, 
The shield of God to be my strength, 
The path of God to be my way.
Alleluia, alleluia,
Alleluia, alleluia,
Alleluia, alleluia,
Alleluia, alleluia.

I leave you with a final link on the very Irish morning here in Colorado...our weather fits what they call “a soft day” in Ireland....I arise today. This is a beautiful contemplative rendition of St. Patrick’s hymn with prayerful pictures of Ireland and people celebrating the joy of God’s love. 
 
Beannacht! Blessings in Gaelic!

With you on this wilderness journey,

PS....Don’t forget our livestreaming worship coming to you Sundays at 11 am on our Facebook page!

It is great to have your Congressman visit your church, and it is even better when he comments, “You are the most active church in the area, if not in the state of Colorado.” That is what Rep. Joe Neguse told an overflow crowd in Plymouth’s Forum Room last Sunday morning. Neguse was with us as part of the Adult Ed. Forum series on Ending Gun Violence, and he is sponsoring several bills in the House of Representatives aimed as sensible gun legislation, including national background checks. (Special thanks to Anne Thompson and Mark Lee for arranging this extraordinary visit!)

Carla's sermon on putting John 3.16 into context was a winner, and the choir’s a cappella rendition of Ola Gjeilo’s setting of “Ubi Caritas” was deeply moving.

And then a crowd of Plymouth folks gathered along Prospect Road to show signs of support for the full inclusion of LGBTQ+ people in every aspect of the life of the church and society. Again, kudos to Mark Lee for helping organize the event across several congregations…I designed the signs. : )

The event was planned by a group of progressive clergy in Fort Collins as a positive response to several local evangelical congregations that sponsored workshops on what to me seems like a “kinder, gentler” form of homophobia. Rather than dwell of condemning others or arguing with them, we chose the path of trying to present a response that affirms who we are as Christians and sends a message of inclusion and welcome to all LGBTQ+ folks.

I was heartened to see so many of you literally out in front! We had members in their teens through their 80s waving colorful placards and rainbow flags I counted three flag variations!) to passing motorists, many of whom honked or waved in support. (We know what Plymouth stands for — the same thing Jesus stood for — love.) It was a beautiful and affirming time for Plymouth last Sunday!

I also want to acknowledge that for many of us news about the coronavirus is getting overwhelming and maybe even scary. Please be assured that we are keeping abreast of the news and CDC recommendations and will do everything we can to keep you safe while you’re at Plymouth. (And we are working on a live stream of one of our services, which is likely to come out via Facebook, so if you haven’t “liked” Plymouth's Facebook Page, it’s a good time to do so!) I’ve just heard that we have the first coronavirus diagnosis in Larimer County, so stay tuned for further information about how we will continue to respond.

In the meantime, here is a prayer:

God of all things, we ask for your presence
with all those affected by the corona virus.
We ask for your strength
to be with all those who are working for treatment and prevention.
As we continue our pilgrimage this Lent,
help us to trust in you and your desire for our wholeness.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage. Amen.

We asked you to go to the Wilderness for Lent, and I wonder how it is going for each of you.

I wonder because this is a time of deep spiritual questioning.

The wilderness is a metaphor that encourages us to let go of what our expectations of those things that prevent us from fully experiencing God. What are those questions you are wrestling with?

Questions rarely come with an easy answer, which is why letting go of what keeps us separate from God and living into our fullest self is a faith journey. Faith can live in the darkness of the wilderness and it can also bring into light the unknown of what we are searching for.

To wonder in the wilderness and to wander with our faith, we may struggle to trust God enough to live without absolute certainty about who God is. This is how we slowly begin to understand the nature of God in our lives.

I pray that in your wondering, answers to your deepest questions are providing a sense of surprise and awe.

Blessings,
Carla

The season of Lent has two faces: one that is a lead-in to Holy Week, the crucifixion, and Easter; and another that reflects the 40-day journey of Jesus in the wilderness. There are conflicting theories about the origins of Lent, but a 40-day period of daytime fasting (as our Muslim sisters and brothers do during Ramadan) was discussed at the Council of Nicea in 325. In the Reformed Christian traditions (of which we are a part), Lent was abandoned as non-biblical…but we have been trying to reclaim some of the baby that was tossed out with the Reformation bathwater.

This year we are working with a Wilderness theme. Wilderness for Jesus was a place of testing and clarifying and preparation for his ministry. Wilderness for us may be a metaphor for wild-ness and the glories (and the threats) of Creation. Wilderness can also be a metaphor for chaos and the unknown.
Come and join us this Lent as we worship using Wilderness themes now through April 5 (Palm Sunday).…I guarantee that you’ll hear some new perspectives that will cause some new growth on the branches of your faith.

Tomorrow evening, you are invited to a simple soup supper (generously provided by a ministry team under the Deacons) and to a service at 7:00 p.m. If you have never been to an Ash Wednesday service, I’d encourage you to come and give it a try! You might be surprised at how meaningful it is.

Also, there are Lenten devotional booklets using the Wilderness theme available in the Fellowship Hall at Plymouth, containing poetry, visual art, reading suggestions from your Bible, and space for your own reflections.

May our journey together through the Wilderness bear the fruit of faith.
Shalom!

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. ... a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him! Matthew 17.1-2, 5

We’ve been at this historical site before, but not in any
history we remember.
The present has been cloaked in cloud before, and not on
any holy mountaintop.”
From “Interesting Times”by Mark Jarman

This coming Sunday is the last Sunday in the season of Epiphany. It is Transfiguration Sunday when we celebrate the mysterious story of Jesus’ mountaintop experience of God’s blessing and his disciples’ experience of Jesus illuminated by God’s presence with him and within him. It is a story of revelation. As readers of the gospel we are prompted to consider, “who is this One that shines with Divinity?“

We are also prompted to consider, “What happens to disciples when they see the face of God on the mountain? How are they changed?” As readers we are the disciples experiencing this mystery. Transfiguration is akin to transformation but not quite the same. It has something to do with seeing the “real” or the “true” or the “holy” within the everyday or the familiar. Transfiguration is being in the present moment “cloaked in cloud” whether or not we are on a mountaintop. It has something to do with being transformed by seeing transformation, seeing the transfigured.

On the mountaintop Jesus is revealed as at his baptism as God’s beloved, God’s revelation of God’s self. We know Peter, John and James were changed by this experience in some dramatic way. Maybe like us who are puzzling over the story to this very day, they puzzled over it all their lives. Maybe not since they were eye witnesses to the resurrection which the transfiguration of Jesus foreshadows. Still the story of the transfiguration of Jesus is mysterious, one to be pondered. Like metaphor it asks to be looked at sideways and talked about indirectly. Perhaps this is also, the only way the disciples could take in Jesus’ shining appearance. I do know that the story must be held in balance with the stories of preaching, teaching, and healing that we encounter after Jesus and his companions descend from the mountaintop. In these stories, Jesus shines with true humanity steeped in God’s ways. Perhaps the Transfiguration is really understood best in tension with shininess of everyday life.

As we head toward Transfiguration Sunday, Ash Wednesday and Lent, I invite you to consider this question, “Who is this One that shines with Divinity and with true Humanity?” Do the stories of this One change your present moment? Will you let the presence of the Holy One shine through the stories to transfigure your soul?

Blessings on the journey,

One of the things you may have noticed on the front page of each Placard issue is the emergency contact numbers for your clergy. Carla, Jane Anne, and I all care deeply for you and want to be available when you need us for spiritual support.

Sometimes we learn that a congregant has had surgery or a hospital stay that we weren’t aware of. (It is perfectly okay if you don’t wish to share that information, but in order for us to provide spiritual care, we need to know if you’ve been hospitalized.) In the old days, Poudre Valley Hospital kept a binder on the visitors’ desk with all patients listed by religion and denomination, and there were times when I dropped in for a visit with a UCC patient from outside Fort Collins, because I saw them listed that way. But with full implementation of HIPAA regulations, hospitals are no longer allowed to share that information. And the upshot is that you need to tell us if you plan to be hospitalized or when you are there unexpectedly…otherwise we have no way of knowing. With all of the option in northern Colorado, we also need to know where: PVH and Med Center of the Rockies, Banner and McKee, the Orthopedic Center and other surgery centers provide lots of options, so please help us know how to find you.

What is it like to receive a hospital visit? Before surgery, with your consent, ministers are allowed to come into pre-op with you to have a prayer. We often pray not just for a positive outcome of your procedure, but also for the people who care for you. Recently, Carla got the enviable task of visiting Ruby Louise Cronk, the newborn daughter of Cara and Owen, who are new to Plymouth…but not as new as Ruby Louise!

There are times, too, when we are present with members when they breathe their last. We don’t have “last rites” like Roman Catholics do, but it can be a comfort to have one of us there to offer a prayer and a blessing after the moment of death. The transition from this life into the next is a sacred time, just as a birth is, and we it is a privilege to accompany you in this journey.

You can also schedule a pastoral counseling appointment with your pastors. We are happy to listen and try to help you through the rocky times that all of us encounter. If you are experiencing depression or anxiety or another serious concern, we can also help refer you to a counselor or psychologist here in town. You don’t need to go it alone!

If you are home-bound, even temporarily, we also can arrange visits. Unlike most other professionals, we still make house calls. Carla is handling most home-bound visits, along with lay caregivers from our Calling/Caring Ministry. (Several of our deacons are also trained to bring communion, as well.)
Please be in touch and let us know how we can be of help. Again, you can find those numbers on the front page of the Placard. Read this month's Placard here.

Thank you for trusting us to care for you!
Deep peace,