News

Dear Siblings, 

I’m sure you know that we are blessed to have a truly remarkable church campus. There are not many places that so carefully and intentionally engage the built environment with the goodness of God’s creation. One of my deepest prayers with our congregation is that we don’t ever take this space for granted. 

Recently, I’ve followed Rev. Liz’s lead and now sit in the pews during the sermon. It changes things for me. Listening to a meditation on our sacred texts, while looking at the world that God made, offers a different way of engaging with my faith. I’m sure many of you know this well. 

Recognizing the value of our place in the world, I’m glad for all the chances we have to care for creation. This Sunday, we’ll welcome Hannah Schultz, MDiv., the Program Director at Georgia Interfaith Power and Light. Hannah has a deep interest in the intersections of justice, theology, and the environment. After earning her MDiv at the Candler School of Theology, Hannah worked in college chaplaincy, before joining the team at GIPL. At GIPL, she leads an array of programs including Solar Wise, Power Wise, Water Wise, Zero-Waste, and Rewilding programs. 

Rev. Liz and I are so excited that she’ll bring us the Good News on Sunday, and lead a workshop after worship in the Fellowship Hall. 

See you Sunday,

Thomas

Dear Siblings, 

Every now and then, I don’t quite know what to write for the week. And that’s mostly because so much has happened over the past few days. I won’t recall all of those things in this note. But I will say that I am in a sort of mourning. Mourning for the world as it is, because I know how different it could all be. I am thinking most urgent about the rapid changes in the political representation of Black Americans. Yesterday afternoon, Tennessee split the city of Memphis, where I lived for college, into three separate congressional districts. Regardless of partisan positions, the result is a diluted voice for Black Tennesseans.

Unfortunately, this same scene is being played out in South Carolina, Alabama, and Louisiana too. Yes, I am mourning the reality that it seems this reconstructed country is turning away from the fulfillment of one its most grand ideas and still incomplete experiments: that in this new world, out of the ashes of the peculiar institution that was race-based slavery and civil war, a multi-racial democracy could rise and thrive. Yes, I am in mourning over our shrinking away from the possibility of such a vision. 

These words, shared by Dr. Terrence Johnson, the new Dean of Candler School of Theology, have sat in my head:

Mighty causes are calling us– the freeing of women, the training of children, the putting down of hate and murder and poverty– all these and more. But they call with voices that mean work and sacrifices and death. Mercifully grant us, O God, the spirit of Esther, that we say: I will go unt0 the King and I perish, I perish. Amen. – Prayers for Dark People (1980)

In a rather abrupt turn from the above, this Sunday is also Mother’s Day. This is a day that is filled with joy and for many people also sadness. And so, my prayer for you this weekend is that you receive what you need for this occasion. If you need the joy and celebration, the breakfast in bed, and handmade cards or phone calls, I pray you get all of that and more. But if what you need is a moment to visit a graveside, or to look at an old picture, or play an old voicemail, then I hope that you can make time for that too. If you’re someone who doesn’t quite know how to define your relationship to the person who birthed you, and would like for this day to simply not exist, then I hope that Sunday is simply Sunday. I pray that you receive what you need to receive on Mother’s Day. 

On Sunday, we’ll be open to an encounter with the Holy Spirit and sit with John’s Gospel. I hope to see you in worship, on-site or online! 

Thomas

Dear Members, Friends, Siblings, All,

Last week, a friend asked, “What’s the first thing you will do when you are no longer at Central?” Oh. Well. “Um, I will take piano lessons,” was my reply. This morning, however, it became clear piano lessons will more likely be the second, third or even fourth thing I do when I am no longer at Central.

The very first thing I will do is miss you. I will miss the people I work with every day. Miss gathering for worship and fellowship, even zoomies. Miss the conversations by (endless) email and the shared interest and purpose of this congregation. Miss the children. Miss the belonging to this living body of followers of Jesus. Sigh.

And, oh, yes, I will grieve. I must grieve.

Of course, I am anticipating the grief in the same way I anticipate other and all anxieties. Getting ready for it? Perhaps. But mostly not looking forward to it or, more precisely, practicing what I know so well how to do.

Don’t you think the Disciples might have been in a similar emotional soup in our Gospel reading for Sunday is John 14:1-14? Jesus is preparing them for the time when he is no longer present with them in the body. (Not comparing my own, humble self to Jesus, to be sure.) Their “congregation” would be without him and he without them. There had to be some grief there. That’s probably why I have so often preached funerals from this passage, a moment when sadness and fear of what is not known are ambient. That’s also why the resurrection accounts so often include, “Fear not.”

“In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places…” (14:2) There is an invitation here that has not occurred to me before:

In that future place where there is so much mystery, there are oh, so many possibilities. Just use your imaginations and all that we’ve practiced together.

Ok, I will try my best. You mean, like improv?

On Sunday—can this be May already?—we will come together for a Service of Word and Table, as is our custom on first Sundays. Streamers, be prepared with your bread and cup in whatever form that takes chez vous. (Milk and s’mores has been suggested by a young friend.) Those of us who can get to the face-to-face will gather around the table of welcome and belonging with grape juice and gluten free bread. We will all be doing what Jesus did. Practicing. Again.

Here’s hoping to see or be seen in your company, one more time.

Love and hugs,

Rev. Liz

Dear Siblings, 

I spent much of the past week in Philadelphia with the UCC’s Next Generation Leadership Initiative, as part of our Congregational Vitality trek. We visited three unique congregations. One is a multiracial Reconstructionist synagogue, Kol Tezdek, in West Philly, operating out of a commercial space in a mixed-use residential building. We also visited Old First UCC, a historic Congregationalist church in the Old City, which has adapted a significant portion of its property to support a new housing-first initiative. On Sunday, we worshipped with Salt & Light, a nearly 1000 member UCC/PCUSA church merger that has two campuses, a thriving ministry for children and teens, and is celebrating exponential growth in membership.

All three of these faith communities turn the current narrative about organized religion upside down. People are seeking these places out, in large part because they see these communities putting their hearts, minds, mouths, and money where they know their faith calls them to be— with each other in the struggle for a world made new. 

Aside from those campus visits, it was a wonderful time spent with the other folks in my cohort + the two other cohorts on this trip! A lot of idea cross-pollination happens on coffee runs, at lunch, or in between learning sessions. 

Our own congregation was the recipient of similar cross-pollination last week with Rev. Andrew Warner of the Wisconsin Conference. We’ll sit with the same text from last week, Acts 2:42-47. We’ll focus less on stewardship and more on our common lot and life together, as we discern our journey in ministry. 

Please be sure to stay after worship this Sunday for our Called Congregational Meeting. 

See you Sunday, 

Thomas

We will welcome Rev. Andrew B. Warner as our preacher for 11:00 am worship on Sunday, April 19, 2026. He will also offer a presentation after worship on generosity and giving for all who are able to attend. I trust that includes your own dear self.

Our own Bill Harrison has led Central’s efforts to establish a planned giving program and invited sister UCC congregations in the area and the Southeast Conference to join and learn along with us. At a stage in life where we begin to think of such things, Bill was moved to consider Central Church in his estate planning and, specifically, a legacy gift—the gift that keeps on giving long after we have departed this life. Why? This is giving that comes from the same depth of love and commitment we have to our family. That kind of love.

The late Channing and Carol Jeschke left that kind of gift to Central last year. That kind of love.

On Sunday, Rev. Andrew has chosen the lectionary readings for the following week, April 26, the Fourth Sunday of Easter, because these texts seemed more suited to his theme: a spirituality of generosity. His focus passages are Acts 2:42-47 and Psalm 23. 

More about Rev. Andrew: He serves as President of the Wisconsin Foundation UCC, a philanthropic arm of the Wisconsin Conference UCC and is a Certified Fund-Raising Executive (CFRE). For many years, he served as a Generosity Outreach Coordinator for the national church, as well as 22 years as a local church pastor. He leads the fundraising efforts of the Wisconsin Conference, supports the planned giving and effective philanthropy in many congregations. The has organized the Wisconsin Foundation based on a community foundation model for the endowments of the conference and congregations. 

My favorite part of his bio is this: Andrew lives with his husband and two children outside of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He loves to cook and entertain, a practice he calls his “gastro-evangelism.” I’m in.

I am looking forward to worship on Sunday and to seeing you there. Or maybe you are seeing us from where you are. Either way, it will be good to gather once again and to welcome our guest preacher. Don’t forget to make plans to stay after for the session with Rev. Andrew Warner. There’s lots going on at Central. Set you GPS.

Love and hugs,

Rev. Liz

What’s the deal with taxes anyways? Nobody really wants to pay them. It is increasingly more difficult to understand what tax dollars actually go toward.  And many Americans’ thoughts on taxes oscillate based on which party is in power. And yet! We pay. Taxes are simply an obligation that we owe to the state. It won’t surprise that Jesus has some thoughts on that. I’m sure you do too.

The title of this Sunday’s sermon, “Unfinished,” is not a reflection of its current state! Rather, it’s my understanding of our work in the world. This Sunday, we will sit the reality of power and the church; and of power and our faith. And we might trouble the waters and dare to imagine a world where the church as an institution says “actually, we don’t need power… at least not like this.”

What do we owe to Caesar? What do we owe to God? Where do we belong in the world? Think about those questions. 

We live in a world that works awfully hard to make us believe that our value comes through our relationship to power and authority. The Good News rejects that and invites us to embrace our value as bearers of the Image of God. An important lesson to remember as we move closer to Palm Sunday, Holy Week, and the Resurrection.

Come on Sunday, and we’ll chat more about this together. 

See you soon, 

Thomas

P.S. Great things are happening before and after worship. Check em’ out below!

Dear Members, Friends, Siblings, All,

Well, the Search Committee for Central’s next ministerial leader has formed and met. Central has taken the next step in embracing the challenges and opportunities that the future God has in mind in hand. A courageous group and formidable undertaking. We must pray for them and for their work. That will be important. 

And this comes as we approach the fourth Sunday in Lent and a focus on the  text in John 10:1-18, in which we are invited to reflect on accountable leadership. (Isn’t it wonderful when these ancient texts somehow know exactly where we are and what’s going on right here, right now? I love it, but it’s also kinda spooky.)

The invitation in this passage is to consider “the kind of leader Jesus is and what it means to follow someone who stays and protects,” as the good folk at Illustrated Ministry put it. Of course, we’re not searching for Jesus–well we are, of course, always, but that’s not the Search Committee’s job–but we are looking carefully at pastoral leadership. So, why not look here?

This (long) reading puts the shepherd in contrast with the hired hand. Clearly, while they both tend the sheep, they are not the same thing. The relationship is different. The commitments are different. 

The good shepherd is prepared to lay her own life on the line. It’s not about duties and responsibilities, the tasks of the job. The shepherd and the sheep have given themselves to one another, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, through many dangers, toils and snares, going along together, in season and out of season.

I always say, metaphors are a way of looking at one thing to gain new insight into something completely different. When Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd,” the hearers get to think of him, their new leader, in terms of something they already know well. They know about sheep and shepherds, everybody does.

We, on other hand, may have trouble relating to sheep. And to following…like sheep? Americans don’t do sheep. Highly educated, privileged, well resourced, justice-loving, progressive Christians–can we relate to sheep? Hmm?

What is your metaphor for good, pastoral leadership? What’s the image or story that comes to you in your own experience of–your appreciation of--leaders in ministry? 

Yes, I believe I did ask us to reflect on these things and, while I’ve not heard much yet, I hope we are going back through our memories. And we will gather next Sunday, on March 22, after morning worship, to share. We’re all getting ready. Right? Hint: sometimes the best way to see what you appreciate is to recognize what you don’t, then flip that experience to reveal what you longed for and found missing. 

You know my metaphor for leadership already: Creating and holding space for a long conversation among friends, going along together, making sense of life as it happens, acting for good, between meals (Sacraments). Yes, it’s very low tech and slow (like gardening), with lots of inputs and outputs, and short on deliverables and outcomes that are quickly and easily seen. But it is the relationship to which the shepherd and the sheep are called, the social field we are part of. 

Well, expect me to be finding a way to make these musings a Sermon for All Ages on Sunday. In the meantime, I trust you are making plans to join us for worship, online or in person (live, not a moving picture), if you can. It’s always good to see you among the far-flung flock. (Beg pardon. I know we don’t do sheep.)

Love and hugs,

Rev. Liz

As a friend and I traveled in Europe last fall, we did what any former divinity school students would do, we visited (just a few) churches. One thing that really bothered me was the number of them that required a paid ticket for entry. Yes, maintenance is a huge consideration, but it just felt icky thinking about paying for the opportunity to dance and delight in a house made to honor and glorify God. To me, it’s putting up a barrier where one doesn’t really need to be. 

I share this story because it’s what I thought about as I read our texts earlier this month. The Canaanite woman, marked by her exclusion of the nation, is deemed unworthy of approaching Jesus. In one of his less than prophetic moments, even Jesus calls her a dog! Nevertheless, she persisted. She demanded to be seen, heard, and treated like any other person seeking mercy and healing. In doing so, she not only challenged assumptions about inclusion and belonging, but she also illustrated a kind of collaborative ministry that we should all look more closely at. Seriously. She wasn’t arrogant, or rude, or disrespectful. She simply looked at Jesus and dared him to imagine that maybe he and his disciples were wrong. And Jesus was transformed by that. 

I wasn’t there, so I don’t really know what that moment looked or felt like to those who witnessed it. But a part of me feels rather confident that Jesus’ ministry was forever changed by this encounter, this holy confrontation. I think that because this story is an illustration of the inclusive dimensions of Jesus’ ministry. And it’s an invitation for us to consider what exclusionary ideas or practices we hold, perhaps unwittingly, that make it difficult for everyone, everyone, everyone to flourish. 

On Sunday, we’ll consider that and more during our time together. We’re springing forward this weekend, and I have to remind myself to be positive about that. We’re exchanging one hour of sleep for a season of more sunlight. 

If you haven’t been to church in a while, our Sundays are bustling with activity. Read below to check out our Sunday School hour groups before worship and opportunities for connection that follow worship. 

Finally, there is a secret to entering those old churches for free:  tell them you’re there to receive communion. And that’s the beginning of the story of how I ended up on my knees in Westminster Abbey, drinking from a common cup that was brought to each of our lips… 

See you Sunday,

Thomas

P.S. 

Now, a few weeks ago, I mentioned that the church has a “power problem” that we need to deal with. And then I promptly said “nobody wants to talk about this!! And I’m not going to today either.” I saw a few frowns and watched a few faces express disappointment. Fear not… we will get there by Easter.