Winthrop Congregational Church, UCC
No matter who you are. No matter where you are on life's journey. You are welcome here!
December 16th, 2021
My wife has made me watch 25 Christmas movies this year. That’s right... 25. She keeps track of them on an app on her phone. There are definitely themes: people aren’t happy in their jobs, people don’t have enough Christmas spirit, a small business usually needs saving from unscrupulous real estate developers. Usually there’s a love story, too... most often romantic, sometimes a renewal of family bonds. A couple years ago there was even one where a cat helped a veterinarian and firefighter fall in love. Usually, the couples in these films don’t represent our particular family well. And the stories can be… predictable. But people, my wife Tasha included, love them.
I think the simplicity of the story is part of the charm. When the movie starts, you can tell who is going to fall in love over the course of the next two hours and which family-run Christmas tree farm the community will help save. While there will be conflict, it will be resolved—and relatively quickly. The worlds created in these stories are worlds where, by the end of the movie, everyone is able to do the work they love and are paid fairly; live in places they cherish; cultivate loving relationships; and make acres of gingerbread houses (and latkes in the rare Hanukkah movies). Also, everyone has really nice teeth.
In the real world where we are living, there was a school shooting last week in Michigan, and a hundred people were killed in terrible tornadoes that ravaged parts of four states. In our country, at least 800,000 people have died of Covid-19 (a number that is both appallingly large and may be an undercount). So many more are suffering from long-term effects, like loss of taste, damaged lungs, and neurological changes resulting from their Covid infections. As we see every day, the real world looks very little like the movies, even though Tasha married me, in part, because her cats liked me.
At our deacons meeting this past Sunday, we discussed one difficulty of this ongoing pandemic: that it can be easy to grow numb to the incomprehensibly vast scope of grief and pain. How do we even begin to wrap our heads around 800,000 deaths when a single death of someone we love is enough to completely change our lives? As I write this letter, we are in the midst of the week of Advent where we consider the joy offered by the coming of Christ into the world. How on earth do we hang on to the joy we need while also keeping our hearts open to the pain in this world?
I don’t think we’re going to find that answer in the Christmas movies, unfortunately, though they do provide a little respite in a hard world. In a letter I received from the Maine Conference this week, the Rev. Jonna Jensen, the interim Conference Minister, reminded us of these lyrics of one of Shirley Caesar’s hymns, “This Joy that I have/ the world didn’t give it to me.” The hymn goes on to say, “The world didn’t give it, the world can’t take it away.” I wonder if this might be part of the key to remaining open-hearted in grief-filled times. The joy that is the foundation of our faith isn’t the happiness of the Christmas movie endings. It is something deeper— soul-deep— that undergirds how we live and grieve and give and serve. This joy isn’t the opposite of mourning, but a counter-weight to it, helping to settle it across our shoulders, making it easier to carry the load.
During worship this past Sunday, we asked where people are finding joy these days. The answers ranged from family time to baking and cooking, from getting lost in music to gathering together as church (both physically and digitally). Where are you finding joy in this Advent season? Today, I’m finding some joy in a conversation I had with a woman who wasn’t sure how she was going to pay for emergency repairs to her home. Her town ended up sharing funds with her. Now she and her kids will be safer in their home. In my mind, this was an even happier ending than the one in that movie where a military vet choir director fell in love with a hotel pianist who ended up being a prince.
I pray that you can find the Joy of this Advent season while also leaving space to mourn what has been lost. It is our capacity to both mourn and celebrate that can carry us through these difficult times together.
To the movies with a little too much sparkle and to the neighbors who lift us up,
Pastor Chrissy
My wife has made me watch 25 Christmas movies this year. That’s right... 25. She keeps track of them on an app on her phone. There are definitely themes: people aren’t happy in their jobs, people don’t have enough Christmas spirit, a small business usually needs saving from unscrupulous real estate developers. Usually there’s a love story, too... most often romantic, sometimes a renewal of family bonds. A couple years ago there was even one where a cat helped a veterinarian and firefighter fall in love. Usually, the couples in these films don’t represent our particular family well. And the stories can be… predictable. But people, my wife Tasha included, love them.
I think the simplicity of the story is part of the charm. When the movie starts, you can tell who is going to fall in love over the course of the next two hours and which family-run Christmas tree farm the community will help save. While there will be conflict, it will be resolved—and relatively quickly. The worlds created in these stories are worlds where, by the end of the movie, everyone is able to do the work they love and are paid fairly; live in places they cherish; cultivate loving relationships; and make acres of gingerbread houses (and latkes in the rare Hanukkah movies). Also, everyone has really nice teeth.
In the real world where we are living, there was a school shooting last week in Michigan, and a hundred people were killed in terrible tornadoes that ravaged parts of four states. In our country, at least 800,000 people have died of Covid-19 (a number that is both appallingly large and may be an undercount). So many more are suffering from long-term effects, like loss of taste, damaged lungs, and neurological changes resulting from their Covid infections. As we see every day, the real world looks very little like the movies, even though Tasha married me, in part, because her cats liked me.
At our deacons meeting this past Sunday, we discussed one difficulty of this ongoing pandemic: that it can be easy to grow numb to the incomprehensibly vast scope of grief and pain. How do we even begin to wrap our heads around 800,000 deaths when a single death of someone we love is enough to completely change our lives? As I write this letter, we are in the midst of the week of Advent where we consider the joy offered by the coming of Christ into the world. How on earth do we hang on to the joy we need while also keeping our hearts open to the pain in this world?
I don’t think we’re going to find that answer in the Christmas movies, unfortunately, though they do provide a little respite in a hard world. In a letter I received from the Maine Conference this week, the Rev. Jonna Jensen, the interim Conference Minister, reminded us of these lyrics of one of Shirley Caesar’s hymns, “This Joy that I have/ the world didn’t give it to me.” The hymn goes on to say, “The world didn’t give it, the world can’t take it away.” I wonder if this might be part of the key to remaining open-hearted in grief-filled times. The joy that is the foundation of our faith isn’t the happiness of the Christmas movie endings. It is something deeper— soul-deep— that undergirds how we live and grieve and give and serve. This joy isn’t the opposite of mourning, but a counter-weight to it, helping to settle it across our shoulders, making it easier to carry the load.
During worship this past Sunday, we asked where people are finding joy these days. The answers ranged from family time to baking and cooking, from getting lost in music to gathering together as church (both physically and digitally). Where are you finding joy in this Advent season? Today, I’m finding some joy in a conversation I had with a woman who wasn’t sure how she was going to pay for emergency repairs to her home. Her town ended up sharing funds with her. Now she and her kids will be safer in their home. In my mind, this was an even happier ending than the one in that movie where a military vet choir director fell in love with a hotel pianist who ended up being a prince.
I pray that you can find the Joy of this Advent season while also leaving space to mourn what has been lost. It is our capacity to both mourn and celebrate that can carry us through these difficult times together.
To the movies with a little too much sparkle and to the neighbors who lift us up,
Pastor Chrissy
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Support Our Ministry! As we often say, no matter who you are or where you are on life's journey, you are welcome here. Since its founding in 1776, our Winthrop Church has borne witness to the belief that God's love is a gift for all people and for all times. In January of 2017, the church took a step of faith and committed to raise the funds to help us live into our next steps as a place of welcome for all people. With our neighbors' help and the commitment of our church members, we were able to fulfill the promises we made. |
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Our Capital Campaign Priorities
Here is what we needed to do to make sure our building was both safe and welcoming:
- Fix the iconic bell tower: This is the first part of the building people usually see. The bell tower had been leaking during heavy wind-driven rains resulting in some water damage in the sanctuary. We installed new windows and weather proofing to the bell tower to eliminate water intrusion.
- Fix our roof: The church roof shingles on the Main Street side had been loosening and blowing off. This resulted in roof leaks and some damage to the sanctuary ceiling. For a more permanent repair, we removed the shingles, installed plywood and installed new shingles.
- Repair the sanctuary ceiling: Once we eliminated sources of rain water intrusion through the roof and bell tower, we repaired the water damage to the sanctuary ceiling.
- Update our entryway: The wall paper, paint and carpet in the main entry way of the church are worn and needed replacing. We painted the walls and ceiling and replaced the carpet.
Our church community endeavors to accept and embrace all who enter here. We welcome individuals of every race, ethnicity, nationality, gender, gender identity, sexual orientation, family structure, marital standing, socio-economic status, age, physical and mental ability to join us in the ministry of our church. All are invited to participate in worship, fellowship, and leadership.
Even though those projects are complete, our Gospel Work is never truly done. If you value having us as a faith community and faith partner in our town, please donate today.
Even though those projects are complete, our Gospel Work is never truly done. If you value having us as a faith community and faith partner in our town, please donate today.
