Seeking Series 2023

On this Second Sunday in Lent, we continue our series, Seeking: honest questions for deeper faith. This week we consider the question – How do we begin again? In worship we hear from our Agape choir. Marc Middleton delivers a message for our young people. Pastor Kayla shares a bit of her own story with new beginnings. And, we share in Communion – during communion an impromptu choir sings a beautiful rendition of You Are the Bread. If you missed worship, rewatch below.

Scriptures: Genesis 12:1-4 and John 3:1-17

Artist Statement

renacimiento
by Carmelle Beaugelin
Inspired by John 3:1-17
Conté crayon, charcoal, acrylic, gold gild on paper

I was raised in a Spanish-speaking Pentecostal church in Miami called “Renacimiento.” A simple translation of renacimiento to English means “rebirth” or “renaissance.” For my small Pentecostal
church, renacimiento meant far more than the symbolism of being“ born-again” Christians. It was a perpetual reminder that each time the saints gather to encounter Jesus, the Spirit calls us to continuous transformation, calling dead things into new life and Holy Spirit-filled revival.

It is no wonder that Nicodemus seeks Jesus in the cover and darkness of night. It is in the quiet of night that our deepest fears startle us awake, that our anxieties of the day keep us from sound rest, and that
the fear of the death of our dreams and bodies looms. As rapper Nas wrote in his debut album, Illmatic, “sleep is the cousin of death.”

Yet Jesus challenges Nicodemus’ seeking in the night with a call to be born again, to renacimiento. Not just improvement, but transformation. Not simply resuscitation of what is and was, but a complete resurrection of what could and will be. In this image, a metaphorically disrobed, aging, and vulnerable Nicodemus, surrounded by the milky gray swirls of water and spirit, wonders: How can this be? Haven’t I reached past my benchmarks? How is it that you are calling me to begin again?

We may see ourselves in Nicodemus today, holding the same questions in the sleeplessness of our darkest nights. Yet, what if we chose to hold fast to the faith that responds to our seeking? Jesus promises us that the winds and waters of the Spirit will lead us toward our own new beginning. Each of us will experience renacimiento if we dare to seek it.
—Carmelle Beaugelin

On this First Sunday in Lent, we are blessed by our Agape Choir singing Stricken, Smitten & Afflicted and our Bethany Bell Choir performing Take Time to by Holy. If you are interested in singing or ringing, let us know in the comments!

Nonie Lemmon serves as our lay reader today and Marc Middleton is BACK! He shares with us a message for all about the pulpit.

Pastor Kayla preaches the 2nd sermon in our Seeking: honest questions for a deeper faith series. This week, we read the scriptures from Genesis and Matthew and then we ponder: Who will you listen to?

Scriptures: Genesis 2:15-17 and Genesis 3:1-7 and Matthew 4:1-11

Rewatch worship below:

Artist Statement on this week’s art piece

tune in
by Lisle Gwynn Garrity
Inspired by Matthew 4:1-11
Silk painting with digital drawing and collage
In this image, the words of the Tempter hover in the background. The Tempter’s voice lingers like a ringing in Jesus’ ears, saying: “Take charge. Hoard your power. Dominate. Control.” Somehow, Jesus has deciphered that these words are simply background noise. He closes his eyes and goes inward, wrapping
himself in a posture of self-embrace. From this introspective perspective, Jesus essentially says, “Get behind me, Satan.” The backdrop of this piece resembles the dust of the desert. Like sand washing along a beach, the sediment shifts into water in the top left, hinting at what bolsters Jesus in his ministry: his belonging to God. His belovedness washes over him, giving him the courage to defy the deception of the
Tempter and tune into his inner wisdom. In this way, he is given a new song to carry with him, a lullaby from God that goes, “You, my child, in you, I am well-pleased.” This is a melody for singing, a song for dancing. What are the voices that linger with you like a ringing in your ears? What are the messages that try to deceive or devour you? Let those voices buzz and fade into the background. Close your eyes, tune in, and embrace yourself. From your belovedness, what song will you sing?
—Rev. Lisle Gwynn Garrity

We had planned to gather in person for a service of Ashes & Communion, however, with our Michigan Weather we ended up in the midst of an ice storm and pivoted to worship online. If you missed Ash Wednesday, this kicked off our series for Lent – Seeking: Honest questions for a deeper faith.

We begin in this worship with the question – Is this the fast I choose?

Catch up on worship with the player below.

Artist Statement for this week’s Art Piece

don’t look up
by T. Denise Anderson
Inspired by Isaiah 58:1-12
Oil on canvas
I love portraiture because I believe there is something deeply profound about our faces and what they can communicate. Few things are more beautiful to me than the shapes and shadows created in our faces
by directional light. The pieces I have offered for this Lenten series attempt to show the drama that light and darkness create together on the human visage. Because I’m a person of color, I am careful to acknowledge how scripture’s preference for light over darkness has historically been used against darker-skinned peoples. Therefore, I do not subscribe to a light/dark dichotomy that suggests one is preferable
to the other. I believe light and dark work together to frame a specific part of the picture that needs our attention the most. In each of my pieces, light is coming from a specific direction and cooperates (not
competes) with darkness to spotlight something. The Isaiah text prophesies to a community preoccupied with religious observance that draws the gaze “upward” to God, but neglects the people and matters that are most important to God. God is not calling for fasts and religious rituals that only focus heavenward. As the community has focused on things above, they persist in injustice below. The people have exalted themselves above their kindred and wondered why God has not responded to them. Meanwhile, God is shining light on what they’ve neglected below—that is to say, their own community. The person depicted here is fixing their gaze upon a light source that is just below and to the side of them. This is an invitation to stop elevating one’s worship and oneself above one’s siblings and peers, for it is there that God may be found. —Rev. Denise Anderson