FAPC Mid-Week Service

As usual, I violated the "one trip to Manhattan" rule and went home before returning for the mid-week service at FAPC. But today I also violated the lesser-known "one trip to midtown" rule.

Morning in Bryant Park:

Reflections on a neighboring building:

Distorted view of the Chrysler Building:

Light fixture at Grand Central:

I liked the corridor as well:

The light shines in the not-so-darkness:

As the afternoon waned and I made my way back again from Brooklyn to midtown for the FAPC service, I liked the light on this building. It made me think of spring:

Rev. Rock delivered a good message, sort of a new Beatitude along the lines of "Blessed are those who completely screw up, for they shall be emptied of ego and rendered suitable for God's use."

We sang several of my favorite worship songs. I love "God of Wonders" because for me that's one of the strongest reasons for belief: the universe exists in all its unfathomable majesty. Where did it come from? How did space, time and matter come into existence? How did the first atom arrive? What started the Big Bang - and what started the thing that started it? There's some beginning of all beginnings, whatever it is, something not subject to the rules that govern everything we know, something beyond our (or at least my) ability to understand. I can't prove it's God, but I don't know anyone who can disprove it. And I have to wonder why is nature so incredibly beautiful to us - even as we seek mastery over it for our own ends? (Plus I like the song because always reminds me of a Eurythmics song I've quoted before in this blog.)

I find "Blessed Be Your Name" incredibly moving. I can hardly sing it without wiping tears from my eyes. I know why, but it's hard for me to express my reasons in words. I'll try here. First, I'm moved by the faith of those who have remained true to God in desperate circumstances - despite the worst pain and suffering anyone can imagine. Those whose faith is so strong that they can call out praise to God when they have lost everything else that meant something to them. (The faith of those individuals is another reason for my belief - feeble though mine is.) Second, I feel such horror and compassion that those who love God so faithfully must still suffer in this life. There is no guarantee that the faithful will be successful in any endeavor, or spared the deepest pain or agony. For Christians, this should not be too surprising - we are called to follow Christ, and look what happened to him. But it is horrible to know that we live in such a world. Third, to me there is always the heartbreaking possibility that the atheists are right, and that all who believe and suffer and die in their faith have been sadly deluded. I think and hope not - but again, I cannot prove it, and I don't think anyone alive can prove it (though if one or more of the mainstream religions are right, we'll all find out after death). This frisson of doubt, which I think everyone must have in their weakest moments, makes the decision to bless God's name in the midst of suffering and loss all the more moving and powerful. Fourth, "the desert place" of bleak despair is familiar territory to me, so I feel also a surge of empathy - some for myself at those times, and even more for others who have suffered real losses and privations far worse than I can even imagine.

People shared stories of their failures (nothing too serious), we prayed for each other, and then I went to dinner with some friends.

En route to Goodburger, I liked this dragon, especially the shadow of the tail:


The night shot of the Chrysler building came out a bit better than I expected:


This post has been oddly cathartic for me. Time to sleep.