October 22, 2014

"REFLECTIONS", Emma B. Cornelia Brihn 

I can still remember my first day in Sunday School. (c.1915) I had no idea, nor did anyone inform me, as to what Sunday School was about or what to expect. I was taken upstairs to a little upper room.  Outside the window was a large tall tree that grew close to the building so it seemed like we were in a tree house.

There were a couple of other children there and our teacher.  She was a small woman clad in a black dress which had a full skirt that almost reached the floor. She showed us a picture of two men; one seemed to be putting something in the other’s eyes.  She explained that one was blind and the other took mud and spat on it and put it in the other one’s eyes and could see.  I was astounded.  I have never heard anything since that could top that story.  I don’t know what the others thought.  I don’t know why it affected me so, all I know is that after so many years (some 78) I still believe in miracles and I have always been interested in healing.  

First published1993 Family Times, First Reformed Church, Cary, NC
 

August 25, 2014

“PORCHES”

Do you ever wonder what happened to the things that were an important part of the way of life when you were growing up? For an example, on a recent trip back home, (From NC to NJ) I noticed that on the homes that had porches, all the porch did was to cover the entryway. No one sat there rocking, watching the “world go by.” When did porch sitting stop? Why did it stop?

I guess two tings played a part in its demise, with the arrival of TV and air conditioned homes, people no longer felt the need to be entertained by each other or to “get a bit of cool fresh air.” With the onset of these two miracles of inventive genius, an entire way of people communicating and caring for one another was gone..

When I was growing up we didn’t need an organized crime watch in the neighborhood. From early morning till about midnight there was always someone watching from a porch somewhere.

In the early morning, anyone sitting out on the porch would be greeted by the early Mass goers. Then came greetings from those that would be either walking to work or to the train station to commute to work. Then the mothers would sit for a while as the children were off to school while the grandmothers or maiden aunts living in the household would make the beds or wash the breakfast dishes. Then it would be their turn to sit while the mothers did the shopping.

The porch chairs were not empty very long. The questions always began with “How come. . .?” “How come Mary didn’t go to work today?” “How come Mrs. Salarino doesn’t have her wash on the line yet?” “How come a strange, red-headed man driving a car with out-of-state plates is parked by the bank?” (This man was on the “Ten Most Wanted List:” and was in town to rob the bank, but he didn’t get far because some porch watcher reported him to the police.)

The porch watchers were also great healers. Whatever malady had overtaken you, they either had had the problem themselves or knew someone who had and could tell you what to do to invoke a quick cure. If you were down, feeling blue or lonely, they could cheer you up with one or more of their many tales.

At night, especially in the summer when the heat of the day was slowly dissipating, the porches would be filled with folk trying to cool off before going to bed. The children could be seen and heard playing games close by and the parents all new where their children were. As the darkness enveloped the neighborhood the children would be called home to get ready for bed. Now the men would occupy the porches and you could see an occasional march lit to light a pipe as they sat contemplating the day.

They say that porches are coming back, so maybe we will have a new generation of porch sitters. . . and possibly a safer, gentler nation with people who care for each other and look out for one another . . . I think that is the way God meant it to be.!

From Reflections by Emma Cornelia Berger Brihn. 1910 – 2003
 

August 8, 2014

Several years ago while attending a workshop for elders and deacons at the Warwick Conference Center, its director, the Rev. Kenneth Tenckinck, stated:

“People do not want to hear the Gospel, they want to see it.”

As you muse on his statement, I share this true story with you.

His name is Bill. He has wild hair, wears a T-shirt with holes in it, jeans, and no shoes. This was his wardrobe during four years of college. He is brilliant, though kind of esoteric.

He became a Christian while attending college. Across the street from the campus is a very elite, and very conservative church. They want to develop a ministry to the students but are not sure how to go about doing so.

One Sunday Bill decided to worship there. He walked in with no shoes, jeans, his “holey” T-shirt and wild hair. The service had already begun as Bill started down the aisle looking for a seat.

The church was completely packed and people were looking a bit uncomfortable but; no one said anything. Bill got closer and closer to the pulpit and when he could not find a seat, he just sat down on the carpet. By now the people were quite uptight, and the tension in the air thick.

About this time, the minister noticed that one of the Elders was slowly making his way down the aisle toward Bill. The man is in his eighties, has silver-gray hair, and is wearing a three-piece suit. He is a godly man – very elegant and dignified. He walks with a cane. As he approaches Bill, people are thinking, “We cannot blame him for what he is about to do. How can anyone expect a man of his age and his background to understand some college kid on the floor?”

It took a long time for the man to reach Bill. The church was completely silent, except for the tapping of the man’s cane. All eyes are focused on him. Even the minister is silent as all wait for the Elder to do what he has to do.

Finally standing next to Bill, the Elder, with great difficulty, lowered himself and sat down next to Bill so that he would not have to worship alone.

Everyone choked up with emotion as the minister said, “What I am about to preach, you will never remember. What you have just seen, you will never forget.

Be careful how you live. You may be the only Gospel some people will ever read.”
 

July 25, 2014

Beloved in the Lord Jesus Christ:

During our time together, I will be sharing with you under the title “From the Pastor’s Cluttered Desk” some of my thoughts about life, about our responsibilities as God’s children, some experiences which I’ve had during my years of ministry and some true stories which I’ve accumulated.

I will also be sharing with you some original writings by my mother, Emma Cornelia Berger Brihn 1910 – 2003. Her writings were first published in Family Times, the monthly news letter of the First Reformed Church of Cary, under the heading “Reflections” which I share with no editing on my part. I begin with my mother’s “Who’s In Charge”

In the past few weeks, confined indoors by the heat, I thought of Camelot . . . that magical place where the weather is perfect all year. It never rains till after sunset, the moon out each night at nine, snow that comes in December and leaves promptly in March. The second sounds great . . . But I think after awhile I’d be bored.

I look at the trees outside my window and think back to Spring and how I couldn’t wait for them to turn green. Now that green seems so tiresome . . . I need the excitement of seeing those first few hints of the red and yellow of Autumn.

Now, unlike the long days of summer, the days are getting shorter but things are getting more exciting and there seems to be more to do.

Everything is coming to life again. The children are returning to school, perhaps a little reluctantly, but once there with new clothes, old and new friends and thoughts of Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas on the horizon they are excited. (1)

The church is also buzzing with activity. The Jr. and Sr. choirs, the new hand-bell choir, the Sunday School and so much more. Even those who don’t participate in the various activities will have a part . . . what good would any performance be without an audience to appreciate it and applaud . . .

Of course, you can tell by my comments that we humans are very fickle and we expect a world where weather and seasons will happen just as they always have . . . however, a great wise and all knowing God lets us know that nothing should be too perfect so every Fall God usually sends in a hurricane or two for some added excitement and to make us think . . . just in case we forget. . . who’s really In Charge.

(1) In N.C. the new school year began on the third Monday in Aug. along with church activities.