A Sermon by the Rev. Dr. Arthur M. Suggs, preached on the Eighth Sunday after Pentecost, July 15, 2018.
A New Graduate from Seminary Is Self-Assured Enough to Know the Problem in the World Is Sin.
Today’s sermon is actually a continuation of last Sunday’s preachment. On July 8, we had Margie Price in the pulpit. (She had also been a guest preacher here last summer.)
Last week, she decided to speak on sin, which I don’t do often, so I’m listening to Margie intently while sitting in the pew, with my mind going around in a dozen different directions.
That’s probably what you’re doing right now, but two things rattled around in my mind while I was paying attention to the sermon on sin, and one was a memory on the same subject.
I shared this with you before, but it’s one of those things that sticks in my memory:
This happened many years ago, when I was invited to dinner by a single mom who was a member of my church, and her only son had just graduated from seminary. Being immensely proud of her son, who was returning home to visit one weekend, she invited him and his wife for dinner to meet Tracy and me and a few other people as well for a meet and greet get-together.
The new graduate was, to put it bluntly, very ego-secure.
He had an ability that would probably serve him well in a church where he could command people’s attention. When he spoke, others stopped their small talk and listened to him. The conversation was going back and forth at the dinner table, and talk turned to some of the problems in the world. You’ve got problems in the Middle East, problems here, problems there.
Finally, the newbie barged in with a self-assured, overweening statement as though it were a question, “You know what the problem is in the world!”
You’ve heard the expression, a pregnant pause? Well, this pause was going to give birth to triplets. Emphatically, he repeated, “You know what the problem is in the world!” And he waited. All eyes were on him.
Then he announced, “It is sin!”
I am really glad I didn’t chuckle. Yes, the problem is sin, but it’s like the most worthless answer you can imagine.
One other thing that came to mind while Margie was preaching was that wonderful Greek word that’s translated as “sin” in the New Testament, ’amartia.
As some of you know, it’s an archery term, meaning “missing the mark.”
It has the sense that there’s the bull’s-eye and you didn’t hit it. The feeling of it is a mistake or an error. It has the sense of an imperfection but it doesn’t have the feeling of a deep, fatal flaw in our souls that’s driving us to hell. Rather, this is a notion of needing improvement; you can do better.
Tillich Reforms the Notion of Sin as an Existential State Characterized by the Estrangement of Humanity
Paul Tillich.
In her sermon, Margie referenced Paul Tillich (1886-1965) and the notion of sin as separation. I would like to expand on that idea a little.
Paul Tillich was an immigrant from Germany, by the way, and most of his time has been spent as a professor in the United States at Union Theological Seminary in New York City. He expanded the notion or revised it or reformed it as to the notions of both sin and of God. Let me go into both of those just a bit.
● First, sin. He says first and foremost that sin isn’t any given act like stealing or gossip, but it is rather an existential state in which we find ourselves, characterized by separation or estrangement. (Prescient — vis-à-vis Conversations With God and A Course in Miracles.)
It’s never “sins” in the plural, but rather the overarching state of being separate from God, separate from our fellow human beings, separate from our neighbors, and sometimes even separate from ourselves.
According to Tillich, our basic human condition is a “state of estrangement of man and his world from God.”
Isolation. PD Image courtesy of Pixabay.
It’s implied, he wrote, in many different places in the Biblical symbolic descriptions of humanity’s existential plight.
For example, the expulsion from the garden; the hostility between humans and nature; the hostility between brothers, going all the way back to Cain and Abel, like the very first brothers and all the brothers since and sisters too; the confusion and estrangement among the nations; ever since the Tower of Babel, one nation has been against another nation; and even the prophets complain against the kings, and they complain about the people over idolatry.
There is lots of separation, lots of estrangement. You don’t have to look hard to find examples.
Tillich also Reforms the Notion of God as Being – Itself in the Ground of Being as an Existential Idea.
● Second, Tillich also reformed our definition of God. This is probably the concept he is most famous for, in which he understood God as being-itself, and he used the phrase the ground of being.
This metaphor is of God as the ground of our being. There are three ways you can take this:
1. One is an analogy. What ground is to a plant is what God is to a human being. You can let your mind fertilize that thought.
2. A ground state also means fundamental, like the basis or foundation. So on a fundamental ba-sis, there’s the ground level and everything above it, and it’s foundational or fundamental.
3. The third way of understanding this phrase is linked to Genesis (Chapter 2, Verse 7). This is the second crea tion story: “Then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.”
For Tillich, “the concept of being as being, or being-itself, points to the power inherent in everything. . . . It is possible to say that [God] is the power of being in everything and above everything, the infinite power of beings.”
A rose (or question mark?) made of galaxies. Hubble Heritage Project.
Consistently, Tillich refers to God as an idea, an existential idea in which God is the foundation of existence and meaning.
As an aside, this is linked to the name of God, given to Moses, when he said, “Who is sending me?”
And God answers, “YHWH,” which means “being, existence.” It means “I am.”
So God isn’t a separate entity up in heaven but rather is existence itself. So if something exists, then it is rooted in God. If you exist, then of necessity you are rooted in God, as the ground of your being. If a plant exists, then of necessity it is rooted in God, the ground of its being.
Sin is not being aware of it, of feeling separated, estranged. Not true whatsoever, but that doesn’t stop us from feeling that way. And all of us have felt that way, plucked up, uprooted, alone in a meaningless universe, separated and estranged from God, our fellow humans and nature, and sometimes even ourselves. But there’s not a whit of truth to it.
The cure, the healing, the salvation, is the realization that we are loved, accepted, united all along, despite having felt or thought otherwise.
Sunset over Antarctica, by Dave Mobley, Jet Propulsion Laboratory, PD NOAA.
Tillich calls it “grace.”
He writes compassionately:
“And if that word [God] has no meaning for you, translate it, and speak of the depth of your life, of the source of your being, of your ultimate concern, of what you take seriously. . . . For if you know that God means depth, you know much about him. . . . (The one) who knows about depth knows about God.” For Tillich, that which gives meaning to and is of ultimate concern in life, actually is God.
This is a very compassionate observation from a sermon Tillich gave:
“You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything now; perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek for anything; do not perform anything; do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted!
If that happens to us, we experience grace.
After such an experience, we may not be better than before, and we may not believe more than before. But everything is transformed.
In that moment, grace conquers sin, and reconciliation bridges the gulf of estrangement. And nothing is demanded of this experience, no religious or moral intellectual presupposition, nothing but acceptance.”
Okay, now let’s get practical. Enough theory.
Sin Is Separation, Estrangement; the Reconciliation Is to Love Thy Neighbor; Church Is Safe to Do so.
God is the ground of our being. Grace is becoming aware of our connection, our rootedness, our being enfolded into the family of God.
At the Annual Meeting of the United Church of Christ of New York, in Syracuse about a month or so ago, the keynote speaker was Emily Heath, a New Hampshire minister.
She wrote a book called Glorify, and she talks about estrangement in one of the chapters. In it, she references a book called Bowling Alone by political scientist Robert Putnam, who writes about the fragmentation of our society. He uses “bowling alone” as both a fact and a metaphor.
“Between 1980 and 1993, the total number of bowlers in America increased by 10 percent, while league bowling decreased by 40 percent.”
Even as the sport grows, more and more are bowling alone.
But then he goes on. Between the 1960’s to the 1990’s:
Freemasons are down 71%,
American Legion is down 47%,
Red Cross Volunteers are off 61%,
PTA membership is off 60%, Rotary is down 25%.
You get the picture.
Between 1975 and 2000,when the book was published, family dinners dropped by 43 percent. Having friends over to the family house, regardless of why (dinner, wine and cheese, cards, watching the game), fell by 35 percent.
It is a deeper separation, a more profound estrangement. To state something every one of us knows intimately, we are also doing religion alone, and that is a problem.
It is our very interaction with others that our faith, our spirituality, our sense of interconnection and interdependence is deepened.
So now, let’s get very practical.
I’m going to ask you to hold two thoughts in your mind at the same time.
I want you in your imagination to envision somebody you don’t like. Somebody who ticks you off, somebody who votes another way.
Somebody who, every time you say something, says something contradictory. Imagine such a person.
2. And then, on this side, the commandment: Love your neighbor.
How do you reconcile that?
We all have this tension in our lives.
Love thy neighbor, one of the great commandments. Jesus was not fooling around when he said that. All of the law and the prophets depends upon it. Love your neighbor. Yet there are specific neighbors whom we can come up with.
How do we reconcile them?
Comfort through a hug. PD image courtesy of Pixabay.
Let me suggest this: Church — a relatively safe place to practice loving God, self, and neighbor. And by practice what I mean is getting up again after we have fallen down, trying again after we have missed the mark, loving and forgiving, loving and forgiving, loving and forgiving some more until one day we actually find ourselves being Christlike. It happens.
Imagine every oppositional person as a gift from God to strengthen and expand your ability to love.
Actually, that graduate from seminary was right. The problem with the world is sin.
But to hell with the problem.
Let’s attend to the healing, to the reconciliation, by coming together, forgiving one another, forbearing with one another, extending grace to one another, practicing kindness and compassion to one another, over and over and over again, and the result is love conquering the world.
A Sermon by the Rev. Dr. Arthur M. Suggs Preached on the Third Sunday after Pentecost, June 10, 2018
The Lord’s Prayer Is the Best-Known Christian Scripture. It Goes Deep Inside.
Two Unitarian Universalists are arguing about religion.
The first one squares himself and mouths to the second that he is so ignorant about religion that he probably doesn’t even know the Lord’s Prayer. He puts $5 on the table and says, “I bet you $5 you don’t even know the Lord’s Prayer.”
The second Unitarian Universalist broadens his face with a grin, puffs himself up and retorts, “Oh yes, I do. ‘Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.’ ”
At which point, the first Unitarian Universalist drops his shoulders and admits, “Okay, darn it. Here’s your five bucks.”
About two years ago, believe it or not, I was asked to preach on the Lord’s Prayer. Better late than never, I suppose.
This prayer is, of course, by far the best-known piece of Christian scripture ever, recited perhaps billions of times around the globe every Sunday morning.
However, being extremely well-known, it is also very easy to say it and never once think about what is being said.
The Lord’s Prayer goes deep inside us, way deep.
Aramaic inscription on a funeral stele from the seventh century B.C. in the Louvre. PD Wikimedia.
I was once asked to visit a church member’s father, who was in a nursing home in Syracuse. The father’s time on this earth was drawing close, and he was profoundly wrapped in Alzheimer’s dementia.
During the time I visited him, conversation was completely impossible, but every once in a while, he would mumble something way underneath his breath.
Once I leaned over him and tried to understand what he was gibbering, what the man was muttering, and it dawned on me that he was trying to recite the 23rd Psalm.
“Wow!” I thought. I mentioned that to the nurse as I was leaving. “Do you realize this guy knows the 23rd Psalm?”
She answered quickly, “Oh yes! He knows the 23rd Psalm; he knows the Lord’s Prayer; and believe it or not, he also knows the Syracuse Fight Song.”
An Accident Brings the Doxology to the Lord’s Prayer — It’s not in Jesus’ Original.
Now let me tell you some facts about the Lord’s Prayer that you might not have known. Then I also want to look more closely at a few of the lines within it.
• The Lord’s Prayer is found twice within the Bible, albeit in reduced form as we know it now.
We read the Matthew 6: 9-13 version, and then there’s a slightly shorter version in Luke 11: 2-4. It is not found in Mark or in John.
• In Matthew, the context is the Sermon on the Mount, Chapters 5 through 7, in which Jesus in this particular form is talking about praying in non-hypocritical ways, so as not to seem ostentatious or wordy or pious by others.
In other words, don’t pray in the end zone right after you’ve scored a touchdown so that you’re seen by everybody, but rather pray in your closet off your bedroom.
• In Luke, the context is the disciples asking Jesus how to pray, and JC says, “Do it this way.”
The Lord’s Prayer is original with Jesus, but only up to a point. The theme or concept in every single line of the prayer can be found in the Hebrew scriptures, in his Jewish tradition.
There are only three things generally referred to as “the Lord’s,” which would be the Lord’s Prayer, the Lord’s Supper, and the Lord’s Day.
It is probably not a coincidence that those three occasions do more to unite the global church than probably anything else.
On that one day of the week, celebrating holy communion, praying the words that he taught us, Lord’s Day, Lord’s Supper, Lord’s Prayer.
You might have noticed when Deb Miller read the Matthew version of the Lord’s Prayer in the pre-Sermon scripture reading, it didn’t have the final sentence, “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.”
It was not in the Luke version, either.
This is a Peshitta (NT Syriac translation) from Iraq dating to the ninth century AD.
What happened is that the phrase, called a doxology, was added to the prayer in the Byzantine liturgy going way back to the Fourth and the Fifth Centuries.
A whole millennium later, in the early 1600’s in England, at the time when the King James Bible was being prepared for publication, the oldest manuscripts accessible to the translators of the period were from the Byzantine liturgy.
With some reason, they thought the phrase was original from Jesus himself. That’s why the scribes at the time put the doxology into the original editions of the Book of Common Prayer.
Three centuries later, translators had much earlier exegeses of the Lord’s Prayer at their disposal, and they realized that their predecessors had jumped to a conclusion and had been wrong. But by that time, the form of the prayer had been set, and it had caught on permanently. It’s a nice ending anyway.
• The 1611 insertion of the doxology in the Lord’s Prayer in England’s Book of Common Prayer occurred first.
That version was used by the Anglicans and the Episcopalians and eventually the Protestants, but not the Catholics.
The Roman Catholic Church did not add the doxology to their prayer until well past the middle of the Twentieth Century, which of course made it interesting when Protestants and Catholics worshipped together.
Toward the end of that prayer, the Catholics would look up and wonder why the Protestants were still praying even after the prayer was over. And the Protestants looked up and wondered why the Catholics stopped early and didn’t finish the prayer.
In 1969, however, the Catholics blinked first and added the doxology to their Roman Rite Mass.
Deciding the difference between using the word “debts” or “trespasses” is definitely amusing, no matter which word you choose.
You might like to try that when you’re worshipping away from your home church. Try using the wrong word on purpose. It’s always a lot of fun.
For English speakers, the word “debts” comes from a translation by John Wycliffe going back to 1395.
But then, well over a century later, William Tyndale did a translation in 1526 and decided to use the word “trespasses.”
The word in Greek, and actually in each of those two different English words as they were understood at the time, didn’t mean just financial debt or trespassing on somebody’s property.
The words mean more generally what we might call sins or offenses. There are so many ecumenical versions of the prayer that now in modern times, many churches just use the word “sins.”
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread Winds up in a Long String of Words
Let’s look at some portions of the Lord’s Prayer, a few of the phrases in it, but I would remind you that Jesus spoke in Aramaic.
The Lord’s Prayer in Aramaic, based on Neil Douglas-Klotz’s work. Abwoon Resource Network.
The Aramaic version was translated into the Greek, and then the Greek was used for the English version that we’re used to.
However, I will be referencing some erudition by the Aramaic scholar, Neil Douglas-Klotz. He has at least four books out, examining the Aramaic words of Jesus. In particular, I’ll be quoting and using his book, called Prayers of the Cosmos, which looks at the Lord’s Prayer and the Beatitudes.
What I have come to learn from his research and from studying it is that this prayer is not merely practical.
It’s not just that people will need to be forgiven or will want something to eat today and every day, but rather, the Lord’s Prayer has a powerful mystical side to it, a very deep spiritual side to it, which I hope you will understand.”
Here are some examples …
Want to know just how powerful a prayer The Lord’s Prayer is intended to be … and can be? The Aramaic version holds clues.
A Sermon by the Rev. Dr. Arthur M. Suggs Preached on the Second Sunday after Pentecost, June 3, 2018
A Gothic Cathedral Spurs Psalm, “Better Is a Day in Your Courts Than a Thousand Elsewhere”
There is an official Congregational Meeting after church today.
Is it appropriate to spend $100,000 of the church’s money, which by the way is actually your money, to redo the entrance off the parking lot?
Well, I might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but there is no way I’m going to answer that question.
However, I do want to talk about church buildings, at least a little. As a matter of fact, it was a sanctuary that was my first clue that I was destined to be a religious person. It was at my parents’ church, and I was of kindergarten-age.
Prior to the worship service there was an adult discussion group that met fifty minutes or so for the previous hour, and my parents would plant me in the sanctuary — no baby sitter, no supervision necessary. I would just sit there in the pew and look around, sort of soak it all in. I remember it to this day, and I loved it.
Nowadays, whenever visiting a new city, I have an urge to go to one of the local churches to check it out.
Chapel at Duke University Cathedral. Photo courtesy of Duke University Cathedral.
Once when I went to visit our kids in the Raleigh-Durham area, I went to Duke University to visit the chapel there, a gothic cathedral, huge, gorgeous, impressive, and I had to see it in person. That little line from Psalm 84 came to mind. “Better is a day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.”
I’ve always felt that way, with one exception — a day in the courts is roughly equal to a day in nature, sitting by a stream. But then those days in nature might be God’s courts as well.
Why Are Sanctuaries so Beloved? Why Are They Built so Magnificently?
Look at them: the huge spaces, the stained glass, the woodwork.
Why do we spend so much effort and money to erect places of worship?
Churches, temples, cathedrals, synagogues, mosques, ashrams — all of them, I would suggest, do something symbolic for the soul. That is, they connect heaven and earth because you can walk right in at ground level.
You can feel the functional foundation, built ever so securely, often out of stone. And the way they are built, with spire and vaulted ceiling, draws your eye upward. You can’t help it. They’re rooted in the earth, but with spire and ceiling, you feel the connection between heaven and earth.
On the communion table, you will see a bronze candlestick there with a white taper in it. It comes from my personal altar in my living room, and it’s something I’m fond of, not only because it’s old but also because of its symbolism.
Pair of antique Japanese bronze candlesticks, cranes on tortoises & lotus flowers, circa 1870. Image courtesy of Carter’s Antiquities Guide.
Even though my candlestick is only about a hundred years old, it is modeled after a pair of candlesticks of the same style and appearance from a Zen monastery in Japan from the Fourteenth Century. It has two turtles on the bottom, a mother and a tiny turtle right beside it, and on the back of the larger turtle is a crane and in the beak of the crane is a lotus flower.
The symbolism of the candlestick is exactly the same as the symbolism of a sanctuary, which connects heaven and earth. The turtle has its feet in the mud and its head in the air. The crane has its feet in the mud and its head in the air. The lotus flower has its roots in the mud and the flower up in the air. In each case, putting them together is designed to remind the viewer there’s a connection, they’re linked.
Two Core Symbolisms of a Ladder: Connections Between High/Low, Incremental Rungs for Ascension.
This brings us finally to the scripture for today — the story of Jacob’s Ladder.
Jacob’s Dream by William Blake (c. 1805, British Museum, London). PD Wikimedia.
(As an aside, I will be glad when we can move on to a different scripture passage at some point. “We . . . . are . . . . climbing . . . . Jacob’s . . . Ladder” is an unbelievably slow song because he had a long dream.)
Rather than applying exegetical techniques to this passage, I would actually like to apply dream symbolism to it. So Jacob fell asleep, and he had a dream about this ladder with angels ascending and descending on it.
For dream symbolism, you never want to get fancy because you don’t want to get nuanced, you don’t want to get complex about it. It’s straightforward; here’s what it means.
What is the symbolism of a ladder?
It connects something high up, out of reach from where you are, planted on the ground. You’ve got a leaky roof, and there you are, standing on the ground, looking up at it. It’s the ladder that is the connection between the high and the low, between the out-of-reach and what’s at hand.
But ladders actually have two core symbolisms: One is the connection between the high and the low; the other one is that there are rungs on the ladder to ascend. There are increments, one at a time as you rise.
There’s a phrase, “He’s climbing the corporate ladder,” meaning he’s got a job. What’s the next job? And when he gets that one, what’s the next job after that?
Take one or both of those symbolisms — connecting the high and the low, or the rungs for the incremental steps. Take those and look at life from the point of view of Jacob, or better yet, look at it from your point of view, your life.
Here you are, sitting in a church pew, inside a sanctuary, and in the back of your mind are your problems, the things that are always there, cooking around in your mind as well as in your heart.
Then, because your issues overpower the sermon, you nod off and fall asleep for a while. But then you wake up with a sense of assurance, a sense of joy that heaven and earth are connected, that all your worries are understood by the divine, and you have access to the power that heaven and earth are connected. And as if that weren’t enough, you realize that the actual place where you’re sitting is the connection between heaven and earth. You’re back to a spot where they’re connected, and you knew it not!
An Archetype for Everyone: Build a Memorial to the House of God and the Gate of Heaven.
Stairs to the top of the tower, Duke University Cathedral. Image courtesy Duke University Chapel.
So you build a memorial, and you name the place Bethel — House of God. And you exclaim to everyone that this is none other than the House of God and the Gate of Heaven.
Do you perceive the way this story is an archetype for everyone’s story? The way it applies to each and every one of you in your individual circumstances — feet on the ground, soul linked to God, and you knew it not.
Churches are our memorial. Churches are our Bethel, the House of God and the Gate of Heaven. And sometimes we just don’t know it. Sometimes we forget.
(Read the full sermon for excluded text. Link below.)
Putting on the Mind of Christ Awakens Us to God & Humanity, Spirit & Flesh Already Connected.
Embracing Christ-consciousness, putting on the mind of Christ wakes us up aware of what already is. And what already is, is that heaven and earth, God and humanity, Spirit and flesh are already connected, already linked, Spirit infusing all materiality existing within spirit.
Stained glass window, historic sanctuary at First Congregational Church, Binghamton, N.Y. Photo by J. Walters.
Until the day we awaken to the fact; until the day we incorporate that gospel truth into our souls; until that day, we will read Jacob’s story and try to incorporate the symbolism into our lives, let it sink in; until that day, we will place candlesticks with turtles and cranes and lotus flowers upon our altars.
And until that day, we will build churches and cathedrals with towering spires and vaulted ceilings to remind us because for now, we need reminders. As a rule, we know it not, but we are waking up.
“We tend not to think that way, and yet there it is: the power, presence, guidance, and love of God found physically everywhere in the cosmos, as well infusing and surrounding you.”
Pastor’s Perspective
By the time you read this, we will be at the very end of the church year. It begins with the first Sunday of Advent back in December, and concludes with two of the lesser Christian festivals, Pentecost and then Trinity Sunday, which this year coincides with Memorial Day Weekend.
The “pente” in Pentecost stands for five, in this case being fifty days after the Resurrection.
Pentecost was the time when the Holy Spirit, promised by Jesus at the Ascension, was poured out upon the people. it therefore is considered the birthday of the church.
I mentioned above that it is one of the lesser festivals. It in no way compares with Christmas or Easter. There are probably multiple reasons why, but one of them has to do with our general non-understanding or misunderstanding of the Spirit.
Throughout twenty centuries of Christian experience, only a tiny fraction of all those sermons, articles, and books have been about the Spirit. Really, only in the 20th Century did this begin to change, notably with a book on the Holy Spirit by Billy Graham (1978).
Perhaps also it is a different and difficult way of thinking to realize that divinity is literally everywhere, yet invisible.
We tend not to think that way, and yet there it is: the power, presence, guidance, and love of God found physically everywhere in the cosmos, as well infusing and surrounding you.
The Psalmist wrote, “Where can I flee from your presence?” and mentions both heaven and hell, but no, God is there as well. Jesus said at his Ascension, “Behold, I am with you always, even to those close of the age.”
The Pentecost depicted in a 14th-century Missal, National Library of Wales. PD-CC Wikimedia.
Several symbols have been used over the centuries to help us apprehend such thoughts. The Spirit has been likened to a dove (bringing peace and newness as in the story of Noah) which is why the uppermost stained glass on the rear wall is of a dove.
The color for Pentecost is red, symbolizing the flame of fire as at the day of Pentecost recounted in the Book of Acts. Clergy wear red stoles at an ordination, as a prayer that this new minister would be guided and filled by the Spirit throughout his or her ministry.
But the best symbol is our very breath. God breathed upon Adam and Eve and they became more than clay, but living beings. Jesus breathed upon his disciples and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Even the very word in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin for spirit also means breathe, or wind.
But thinking of the Spirit as infinitely present, yet invisible, yet also the very manifestation of God’s power and love, is just plain difficult.
We tend not to think about our breathing. It is automatic, and our mind is elsewhere. But when you do find yourself thinking about your breath, perhaps in meditation, or perhaps you’re trying to swim the length of the pool without surfacing, think also of the presence of God. Our creator, redeemer, and sustainer is inescapable, with us to the close of the age.
The June Forecaster also includes news of the Trustees presenting an initial design to create an access ramp from the parking lot into the facility through new doors placed where the current library windows are located.
