SEPT. 15 - Brick Church

2 THE RECORD september 2012
fROm THE pasTOR
By Doug King
In September, many churches across the country have what is
called “Homecoming Sunday.” It is often the day that Sunday
School and a variety of church programs get started for the program
year. “Homecoming Sunday” is an acknowledgement that
during the summer months many people are away traveling and
thus not to be found in church.
Of course, the concept of home is a little difficult to pin
down. Some of us spend the summer visiting family where
we grew up, which is certainly a home for us. Some of us to
go to country houses, which are a home away from the hustle
and bustle of the city. Some of us travel to special places each
summer that feel very much like a home to us, although we have
never actually lived there.
So what is the nature of this homecoming? On one level it is
obviously the return to our homes here in New York City and
all that we love about living in this vibrant place. But it is also
a homecoming as the pews in our sanctuary fill up on a Sunday
morning.
The Brick Church is a home for us and an important one. It is
a place where we connect with old friends and make new ones.
It is a place where we find comfort and solace. It is a place where
we are challenged to think about new things. It is a place where
we give of ourselves to help others. It is a place where we seek to
love and accept each other more and more each day.
The Brick Church is home for us in a variety of ways, the most
important of which is that gathering together as a community
opens us up to recognizing the presence of God in our midst.
In some traditions, funerals are called homecomings because
people want to lift up the reality that when we die, we return to
be with the God who created us.
Of all the kinds of homes we have in our lives there is no
deeper and more real a home for each of us than the divine. It is
the God who fashioned us, who knows us better than we know
ourselves and who will always be our home no matter where we
lay our heads. It is in worshipping this God together, that we
know who we truly are and whose we truly are.
Welcome home everyone. I leave you with these words from
the first few verses of Psalm 84:
How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts! My soul
longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the Lord; My heart and
my flesh sing for joy to the living God. Even the sparrow finds
a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay
her young, at your alters, O Lord of hosts, my King and my
God. Happy are those who live in your house, ever singing
your praise.
Homecoming
pasTORs’ REaDINg CORNER
Each month, one of the ministers will note some of the books
that he or she has recently read. Inclusion on the list does not
imply indorsement; the hope is simply that you will find your
own reading informed by this column.
What Doug King has been reading:
A Little History of the World, by E. H.
Gombrich, is a charming and deceptively
thoughtful history of the world written for
younger readers. Deftly telling the story
all of human civilization into the 20th
century, it is an entertaining and provocative
read. In less than 300 pages,
Gombrich paints a full picture of the
nature of our humanity, encompassing
both our highest possibilities and
our deepest faults. This book may have
been written for younger readers, but it has something
to teach us all.
Living a Life That Matters is a wonderful
book by Harold S. Kushner that explores how
we seek to create meaning in our lives and
how we value what we accomplish. Using
simple language and stories, he eloquently
describes the struggles each of us face as
we learn what it means to live a life that
is satisfying and faithful. Sometimes
books such as these seem disconnected
from the reality of our imperfect lives,
but Kushner meets us right where we are and offers
us great insight into how we can mature in faithful living.
Sunset Park, by Paul Auster, tells the tale of an interesting
cast of characters who are brought together during the
economic collapse of 2008. Through the stories of a group
of squatters in a Brooklyn neighborhood, Auster continues
his exploration of existential themes. I especially
enjoyed the creation of a “Hospital for
Broken Things” in which one of the characters
seeks to repair what others have discarded
as useless. Having lived for a time
myself in Sunset Park, I enjoyed revisiting
the neighborhood through Auster’s
keen eyes.