When Church Lets You Down

A year ago, I embarked on the voyage of being a deacon in our church. At the time, I had only been a member of the church for three years and had only been involved with the UCC for four. But this was the church we had chosen to raise our children in; this was the church where we had made many wonderful connections and friendships since arriving in Wellesley as new parents in pursuit of new paths.

The church welcomed us, embraced us, incorporated us and celebrated us. Both DH and I were invited to join committees, speak before the congregation and help guide and mold the new directions of the church.

When we started attending, the church’s senior minister, Matt Fitzgerald, was also new. Two months before we discovered the Hills Church, Matt arrived from Chicago with his wife and their two young children, a third on the way. In many regards, Matt was the pivotal reason we started attending. Not only was he a contemporary but his views were contemporary and his sermons were incredibly relevant to us.

Over the next few years, my family got to know his family bit-by-bit. Our children became friends and his wife, Kelli, and I got involved in a film club together. We have long felt—perhaps for professional More

Heeding the Call

A few weeks ago, our very hip, highly educated and really down-to-earth minister called me on my cell phone. Granted, we no longer have a land-line so my cell phone is my only phone but still, it was a calling.

He called because, though we’ve only belonged to his robust and growing church for a few short years, he wanted me to consider being on the Board of Deacons. I was simultaneously flattered and  flummoxed. Immediately, I riddled myself with questions: More

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