FROM THE PASTOR'S PEN

The season of Advent is upon us. The word Advent comes from the Latin advenire —“to come.” Something is coming. If you remember West Side Story , Tony sings with anticipation: “ Something’s coming, don’t know when, but it’s soon… ” That longing captures the spirit of Advent—expectation mixed with impatience, hope mingled with restlessness. Waiting is not something we do well. We live in a culture of immediacy: instant downloads, next‑day shipping, quick fixes. Yet the church dares to begin its year not with celebration, but with anticipation. Scripture speaks into this waiting: Isaiah envisions peace among nations. Paul urges us to wake from sleep. Matthew warns us to be ready. But here’s the challenge: we don’t like waiting, and we don’t like preparing for what we cannot control. When life feels heavy, “just wait” sounds hollow. We grasp for relief, numb ourselves with distractions, chase shortcuts, and settle for substitutes. Paul’s words sting: “Put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh.” Advent confronts our tendency toward impatience and instant gratification. It calls us instead to patient hope. When we rely on numbing agents or distractions, we mask the deeper struggles—powerlessness, despair, the life that should have been. Yet into this restless longing Paul reminds us: “Salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near.” Something’s coming. Peace is not a fantasy—it is God’s promise. And we are witnesses that this promise has already begun. The Christ child is the sign, the beginning of fulfillment. God’s peace arrives not through force or immediacy, but through vulnerability, incarnation, and love made flesh. This is the joy of Advent: we are not waiting in vain. The candles we light are not mere symbols but declarations of hope. Each flame whispers: “Something’s coming.” In Christ, God has already begun the work of peace. The manger leads to the cross, and the cross to resurrection. We live in the “already and not yet”—already redeemed, not yet fully restored. That is good news worth celebrating. So how do we prepare? Not by grasping at quick fixes, but by embodying Christ’s light and love in daily life. Advent is not passive waiting—it is active hope. Like preparing for a child’s birth or readying a home for guests, the anticipation itself shapes our welcome. Friends, let us live as people who trust the promise: The night is far gone. The day is near. Come, Lord Jesus. With faith and anticipation, Pastor Russ

Dear Saints of God, Grace and peace to you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. After a season of deep prayer, reflection, and discernment, I write to share that I will be concluding my pastoral ministry with you on January 31, 2026. I believe I have fulfilled the ministry to which God called me in this place, and I now feel a gentle but persistent pull toward new settings where I may continue to serve and grow in faith. This decision has not come lightly. It is rooted in a sense of completion and trust that the Spirit continues to guide both me and this congregation toward new horizons. I am grateful beyond words for the sacred journey we have shared—the joys, the challenges, the transformations, and the grace that has met us in every season. As with any relationship, we have experienced moments of misstep and misunderstanding. These are not signs of failure, but of humanity. They remind us that covenantal life is not about perfection, but about perseverance, forgiveness, and love. Change, too, often brings resistance—not because we lack faith, but because we care deeply. I honor that resistance and invite us all to hold it gently, as part of the sacred work of transition. The Apostle Paul writes in Romans 12:10–12: “Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” These words speak to the heart of covenantal living—resilient, loving, and rooted in God’s enduring presence. In the coming weeks, I will work with leadership to ensure a thoughtful and faithful transition. I also invite you to a meeting on Nov 19, 2025 at 6:00 pm where we can gather to reflect, share, and bless one another as we prepare for what comes next. With deep affection and abiding hope, Pastor Russ

Dear Saints of God, As we stand at the threshold of change, I want to acknowledge what many of us feel but may hesitate to say aloud: change is uncomfortable. It stirs up uncertainty, challenges our routines, and often brings with it a quiet anxiety that whispers, "I want things to be just as they were" and “What if I’m not ready?” These feelings are not signs of weakness—they are signs of growth. They remind us that we are stepping into something new, something sacred, something that requires courage. In this season, we are being called to reimagine how we serve, how we lead, and how we love. The goal is not simply to do more, but to do what matters most. We are seeking the intersection of our passion, our skills, and our energy—where our God-given gifts meet the real needs of our church and our wider community. This is not a solo journey. It is a collective movement, one that asks each of us to listen deeply to the Spirit and to one another. Jesus, in His infinite wisdom and compassion, knew the weight of change. Before His ascension, He promised us the Holy Spirit—not as a distant force, but as a present guide, a comforter, and a source of divine assurance. “But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit… will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you” (John 14:26). We are not navigating this transition alone. The Spirit walks with us, nudging us forward, whispering peace into our fears, and illuminating the path when it feels unclear. Let us not be paralyzed by the discomfort of change but propelled by the hope it carries. Let us trust that God is already at work in the spaces we are being called to enter. And let us remember that transformation—both personal and communal—rarely feels easy, but it always bears fruit.  Starting Wednesday, October 1 at 7:00 PM, and for five consecutive Wednesdays, we will gather in Fellowship Hall to discuss Paul Nixon's I Refuse to Lead a Dying Church . The title is intentionally provocative with the goal of stirring conversation. Many have read the book; some are excited, and some are anxious. I encourage all who can, join as many discussions as you are able. Lean into the discomfort. Embrace the questions. And above all, listen for the Spirit’s voice. Together, we will discover new ways to be the hands and feet of Christ in a world that desperately needs His love. With faith and anticipation, Pastor Russ

Seasons

Finding Strength and Healing Amid Change

Pentacost

We are an “Easter People!”

We are in a season of transformation.

Dear Saints of God,