When I was young, I didn’t go to church much. I remember attending a few funerals,
and I remember getting gently scolded because I giggled at one of them - that nervous kind of
laugh that meant I just didn’t know what to do with the heaviness of the moment.
Even now I’m not sure what to do with the heaviness of the moments in which we find
ourselves as Americans. There is so much heaviness - in our land, and on our shoulders, as
we try to meet the demands of life, work, and family.
I spent some of my life a critic of all things church, and especially what passed for
Christianity from my vantage as an adolescent and young adult. Now that I am clearly a church
person, I have an eye for those who are not. I entered seminary in part to look under the hood,
to see how and why Scripture has been used as wedge, scold, buoy, or guide. How is it that
there are billions of Christians calling Jesus “Lord” and so seldom unity with regard to practice
and interpretation of the faith?
Now, twenty-one years after seminary, I’ve mingled with, cried with, ministered to,
depended on, argued with, and been forgiven by varying flavors of Christians. And, I’ve done
some forgiving myself! I’m glad I’m Presbyterian (USA), because we are “reformed, always
reforming.” But I’m also blessed by others who find meaning and guidance from other
traditions. No one has a monopoly on the truth; in fact, the truth as we know it came as a man,
humble yet feisty, leading us beyond our idolatries and attempts at other-ing. Some of that
following takes us through ambiguity and gray areas of uncertainty. Some of that following
takes us away from places we once called home. But in Christ, we are always home.
If you find yourself at Tabor on a Sunday morning, you will find a group of people eager
to learn and practice. It is place to be challenged within the bounds of acceptance; it is a
people in need of spiritual sustenance, which we find in Word, Sacrament, music and each
other. Our purpose is to receive, and in receiving, go back into our daily rhythms shaped by the
goodness, truth and beauty we experience in worship. Worship helps us remember who we
are, and in remembering, find meaning and hope in our daily lives. Our hope is quite literal -
that we will serve as the hands and feet of Christ; a tall order, no doubt, but a calling that
defines us and emboldens us, to be risk-takers, peacemakers, bridge-builders and life lovers.
So far during my tenure I have offered three different spiritual practices, each tailored to
the liturgical year. Right now, we are focused on a mantra of sorts - “All I Have is All I Need.”
We also aspire to pray the Lord’s Prayer at least daily. In the coming months I will explore
learning and fellowship opportunities for church people as well as people leery of religion.
If you’re looking for a church home, or just want to chat, we are here for you. Heaviness
weighs us all down. But just when we feel the weight is almost too great to bear, we remember
to share it, and in sharing, we mitigate it, and together, as the body of Christ, we find our way.
Yours in Christ,
Rev. Liz Hulme Adam