Dear Old South Church,
I am sorry we have not been in touch. First and foremost: are you okay? Please, please let us hear from you. We have members who were injured in the blast as well as some traumatized by what they saw and heard.
We remember in prayer the three whose lives were so suddenly and cruelly taken, those who are injured and healing, injured and fighting for their lives, those who grieve and, with great thanksgiving, countless responders.
It’s a given that before you can take a second step you must first take the first one. It’s certainly true in the development of our children’s bodies and minds. It’s true in learning any skill or in understanding an idea or concept. Learning the scales precedes playing a piano concerto.
At Old South Church in Boston we have built an entire worship service around the baptismal font. While we feast at Christ’s table at least twice a week (at First Worship on Sunday mornings and Jazz Worship on Thursday evenings), our newest service, Evening Worship, is centered on the font ... on baptism, on what it means and what it takes to live as a marked person.
At a meeting of this church in April of 1731, the members voted to erect a “decent” canopy over the pew used by His Excellency, the Governor. Why? To keep up with the neighbors of course!
Bethlehem. It’s the place on which we set our sights as we work our way through these days of Advent. We already know the story: it’s the place of destination for Mary and Joseph. It’s where the Child will be born. Bethlehem.
On Sunday, December 2, 2012, over three hundred members of Old South Church in Boston gathered to wrestle together with questions that go to the core of our work: What is the heart of our mission? Where is our treasure? What does God demand of us?
Dear Old South Church,
Happy Thanksgiving, Old South Church!
Dear Old South, as you gather around tables on Thanksgiving—or, even if you find yourself alone—here is a prayer you might send up to the Author of the Universe, Master of the whirling planets, source of life and love.
A Prayer of Thanksgiving by Howard Thurman
In Your presence, O God, we make our Sacrament of Thanksgiving.
The time is fast upon us. The air is crisp; the leaves crunch under feet; the sun hangs low in the sky. Scarfs and gloves, in hiding since last winter, are found. Apples for pies are at the ready; a large squash awaits preparation. Cooks consult their recipes while fall flowers add vibrant color to the table.
Friends,
The events of the last week have been challenging ones for Old South. Although Boston was spared the worst effects of Hurricane Sandy, our building was damaged by high winds and our magnificent multi-colored roof lost some of its slate. Thankfully, no one was hurt, and the damage can be measured in mere dollars.