Authors /
Susan M. Reisert
Susan M. Reisert is pastor of Old South Congregational Church UCC in Hallowell, Maine. She blogs at Hope in the Wilderness, part of the CCblogs network.
Believing survivors without physical evidence
I wish the risen Christ hadn’t shown Thomas proof. Women had already testified to the resurrection.
Do politics belong in church?
11 pastors and theologians weigh in
Can I ban "remember when"?
Questions that begin this way rarely have to do with the mission.
I can't throw and catch at the same time
What kind of church doesn't have Sunday school? An honest one.
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During my annual visit to the doctor’s office not long ago, I was asked if I had any interest in getting connected with their new online patient portal. Sure, I told them.
When I finally went to check it out, I noticed that under my name and a few other pieces of personal information, there was a box that somehow seemed to summarize the practice’s view of me and my current status.
The unexpected consequences of new life
It was the summer of 1991. I was 27 and doing my best to get through an intense unit of Clinical Pastoral Education at a large Boston teaching hospital....
What is worship?
“If there’s no music, people won’t come.” That was the declaration. The conversation was about worship and, more precisely, what we are going to do about music next summer....
The concern on the other end
I ran into an older friend of mine at the gym the other day. I hadn’t seen him in a little while. He recently had some significant health problems, but is now well on his way to recovery....
When the message is not enough
When I arrived at Old South Church about a decade ago, I was fortunate to have found a church home that, though it had never had a female pastor, was well-acquainted with the leadership of women. The organist–music director was a woman and women held posts in the board of deacons and trustees.
There were a few women that I was drawn to almost immediately.
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The reality of the tide
A few years ago, during a vacation on the Outer Banks of North Carolina (a place where my family and I go every couple of years), my children were playing with their cousins on the beach. I was taking photos as they frolicked in the gentle surf along the wide expanse of seemingly endless ocean. There were sea and beach creatures, along with colorful shells, that also caught my photo snapping attention.
Somewhere in the midst of my attempts at capturing as many “Kodak moments” as I could, I lost my footing and fell.
The lasts
My daughter is a senior in high school. Now that she’s officially got herself into college (Vassar) and she, her father, her brother, and I know that she’ll be going away, we’ve begun the parade of lasts—her last home high school swim meet, her last YMCA state swim meet, her last “biggest/shortest” concert (a concert that involves all of the strings students in the Waterville school system), etc.
The rest of the school year leading up to graduation will be full of lasts, some more significant than others.
The builders
This month, we at Old South, the congregation I serve, are celebrating the 225th anniversary of the gathering of Congregationalists in Hallowell, Maine. As we contend with another very snowy Maine winter, and the piles of snow that have just about completely covered the primary entry door of our sanctuary building (when we are able to have worship this winter, we are meeting in the parish house across the street), it’s almost overwhelming to think about the difficulties of starting a church in the midst of winter in Maine.
At a recent Sunday worship service, someone quipped, “If there’s one time of year when you really need God, this is it.”
What are we worshiping?
A church not too far from where I live and work has closed. Its last worship service was held at the end of December. Everyone worried that the large, stately building in the middle of town would be left to languish, perhaps even torn down. But, then, rescuers showed up, purchasing the building with the intent of repurposing it, for weddings and events.
The few members that were left are happy that the church “will be preserved,” according to the local newspaper. But, I’m wondering: What’s being preserved, exactly?
The Church of the Reluctant Evangelists
Visitors to worship at the congregation I serve, Old South, will generally find a warm and friendly group. Most Old South folk are eager to greet new people, to invite them to coffee, and to talk to them about the church. There are a few people in the congregation who are attentive to newcomers during worship as well, making sure they have a bulletin, know which hymnal is which, and to deliver children’s materials to any kids. It’s nice to see.
If you manage to get into the building, you’ll find a nice welcome.
Advent lessons from the pregnant women
Although it’s a crazy, busy time of year, I love Advent. I love it for all of its wondrous, yet not quite realized, images of anticipation, waiting, pregnancy, and birth....