Praying  (by Mary Oliver)

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

I don’t know about you, but I struggle with prayer. Always have, and I’m afraid, always will. Or maybe the struggle is to come to grips with what we’ve decided counts, qualifies, and what is effective in the end. I’ve always taken comfort in those disciples who begged Jesus, “Lord, teach us how to pray.” (Luke 11:1). In their imploring is both a confession of struggle and a longing for new strength and understanding.

Me too! Me too! Both the struggle and the longing. How about you?

Like so many of Mary Oliver’s poems, this one about praying invites me into a more hopeful space. Maybe she’s right – that the secret of a praying life is accepting the grace of what “it doesn’t have to be.” If you’re like me – and you don’t usually find the exquisite and profound words (that would be the blue iris!), and the truth is you often have no words at all; if your secret prayer closet habits, would they become public, cause you to shutter with fear; if doubt and questions haunt you into feeling that your faith is, after all, inadequate; then I say, welcome, welcome. Your struggles are mine.

But what if Mary is right? What if prayer’s invitation is an open door into a whole new world, or put bluntly – what if prayer is God’s primary way to speak, and for me to be quiet – simply to open the door of my life, and receive what God has to say, to give. What if the contest is about who can be quiet, and still, who can listen and wonder…these are hopeful and inviting words.

Read the poem again. Better yet, a few times. It’s short enough to memorize, and then you and I can pretend the Holy Spirit is speaking to us, again and again, reminding us that it’s not a contest, but an invitation, should we desire a shared life with the God of the Universe. Now that sounds hopeful!

Love From Here

Peter Hawkinson

On Pentecost Sunday, following our own worship service where the dove flew through the sanctuary, we sang of the Spirit of gentleness and of the living God, and reflected on how this Spirit that came at Pentecost helps us as Christians today live lives filled with the Spirit’s fruit, I attended the Pentecost service at Iglesia del Pacto Evangélico de Albany Park. I clapped along with an amazing worship band, followed a hand-out filled with passages about the Spirit’s presence, and was greeted in Spanish and through hugs by members of the community. Ninety-five percent of the service was in Spanish. I did my best to follow the sermon, sing along, and greet my neighbors in the language I grew up learning from elementary school to college. But, it’s been eight years or so since I took my last Spanish class, so I’m more than a little rusty. 

I went to college at Michigan State University. I was drawn there for their top-tier education program, and began college as an elementary education major and Spanish minor. I felt called to ministry the summer between my freshman and sophomore year, and so after 3 semesters as an education major I switched my major to sociology. The Spanish minor was one of the longest minors there was and so, to ensure I’d graduate on time, I dropped it. I miss it, and now that I’ve concluded my seminary studies, I hope to dedicate more time to practicing my Spanish again. 

I’m ruminating so much on the language here because, while at my second Pentecost celebration of the day, I realized how wonderful it was that I got to worship that day in both English and Spanish, with both hymns and a worship band, with dancing and clapping, and while watching Pastor Pete fly the dove over my head. All of these expressions represent the true spirit of Pentecost. 

In Acts chapter 2, when the Holy Spirit came and settled on the believers, everyone began speaking in languages other than their own. Every person and people group present that day heard their language spoken and witnessed their culture being expressed, all because of the Spirit’s presence and power. Many believe Pentecost to be the beautiful reversal of the story of the Tower of Babel, found in Genesis 11. In that story, the people ignored God’s command to be fruitful and multiply, to spread out over the whole earth, essentially, to become diverse and create different cultures. Instead, they spoke one language, and to avoid being spread out throughout the world, they built a tower and city for themselves. But God, not to punish them for disobedience per se, but to fulfill the intention that always was, mixed up their languages and spread the people across the land. See, God loves and intentionally created different languages, cultures, nations, and people. Every single one reflects a part of who God is and who God has created us to be. By expressing our own culture, we honor God. But solely prioritizing and witnessing only our own cultural expressions, limits God and we end up missing out. 

At Pentecost, the Spirit came to all people and all were asked to speak another language and cross cultural barriers. In the ways that you can during this season of Pentecost, the longest of the entire church year, I invite you to learn about a different culture, speak a different language, break bread with those across cultural lines, and also, celebrate your own culture, but de-prioritize it too. One tangible way we can all do this this summer, is to attend a picnic on July 18 that our Becoming Neighbors group is hosting for Winnetka Covenant Church and Iglesia del Pacto Evangélico de Albany Park. We hope you can come, to have fellowship together, break bread, practice your Spanish, and become an even better neighbor. 

Con amor, 

Pastor Lynnea

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:22-23)

God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. How great is your faithfulness! (The Message)

This foundational scripture, a kind of stubborn and defiant declaration of faith, comes in the midst of lament, of self-reflection around life’s brokenness, pain, and sorrow. This is a reminder that our faith journey can be most deeply formed by moments, days, and even seasons of struggle. Can be….realizing of course that life’s struggle and pain can also deeply wound our trust and dependence on God. As always, God gives us freedom to journey on together or not, and reserves the right to stay with us whatever we decide!

When struggles come, I find myself latching on to Hymns of faith, and especially the comfort they lend often found in their great cadences. Throughout this summer, I’m going to blog about what some of these are for me, hoping you’ll consider your own “top ten”.

Waking up last night with nature calling, I noticed that before I even was aware I was humming the tune to Great is Thy Faithfulness (Covenant Hymnal 78), and finding that delicious and inviting phrase which is which describes so beautifully how I long to live, with a spirit that finds “Strength for today, and bright hope for tomorrow.” The wonderful thing here, “blessings all mine” as the writer describes it, is that in our present moment and unfolding future God is with us, holding onto us, blessing and keeping us, and will never let us go. If this be true, then all is well even in the midst of the sorrows and sufferings we know.

A bit of history here, regarding the hymn. The text was written in 1923 by Methodist pastor and poet Thomas Chisholm as he reflected on the text above. He had faced many challenges of poor health which had forced him to leave active pastoral ministry years ago, which he loved and deeply missed. He sent the text to his friend William Runyan, who was a music professor at Moody Bible Institute, who matched an uplifting and enduring melody to the text, and the rest is history.

As a church family these are days seeming to trend into a season of death, and it’s lingering grief. Columbarium committals and memorial services are lining up our summer Saturdays like the jet planes descending into O’hare airport. It’s hard to imagine life without so many of these dear friends who have been at the center of our life, ministry, and Church family for years and decades.

Yet still and importantly now we are invited to hum the tune and sing the song that grounds us in faith. Faith that God — our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer — will give us the strength we need for today. “Peace that passes our understanding” is the way St. Paul says it. In this Pentecost season we greet the news that the Holy Spirit fills us up and knits us together into the Body of Christ. And so we we experience the real presence of Jesus through each other, as we share and bear each other’s burdens. I and my family know that healing balm through these days because of you who are our Church community.

And then there is bright hope for tomorrow. “I have loved you with any everlasting love” is what God says to his people Israel through the prophet Jeremiah, and we hear the resurrected Christ say “because I live, you also shall live.” Bright hope indeed!

Together these things — God’s presence and promises — really can carry us along with a real and lasting hope. I’m reminded of my mom’s mantra, which became even more prevalent and pronounced through her journey with cancer….”One day at a time.” One day at a time God’s people live with strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.

And this indeed is a most blessed life.

Whatever the journey of today and tomorrow are holding for you just now, may the words and the tune go along with you.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth, thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide, strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow, blessings all mine with ten thousand beside. Great is thy faithfulness, great is thy faithfulness, morning by morning new mercies I see, all I have needed thy hand hath provided, great is thy faithfulness Lord unto me.

Love From Here

Peter Hawkinson

Hello WCC Friends, and happy summer!

I am very excited to begin our Memorial Garden Book Discussion — each Thursday 6:30 p.m. from June 4 to August 20. If the weather is too hot or rainy, we’ll meet in the narthex.

We’ll be reflecting on Wholehearted Faith by Rachel Held Evans (Harper One, 2022). Small, engaging chapters allow you to join when you can. I have a stack of the books available for $10. Here’s a taste from the prologue:

“For better or worse, there are seasons when we hold our faith, and then there are seasons when our faith holds us. In those latter instances, I am more thankful than ever for all the saints, past and present, who said yes and whose faith sustains mine. They believe for me when I’m not sure I believe. They hold on to hope for me when I’ve run out of hope. They are the old lady next to me in the pew and the little kid behind me who recite the entirety of the Apostle’s Creed on my behalf on those Sundays when I cannot bring myself to say all those ancient words wholeheartedly — is that what I really believe? They pray for me when the only words I have to say to God are words that I refuse to allow to be printed on this page, because they would make even my most foul-mouthed friend blush.

I’ve come to believe that wholehearted Faith isn’t just about coming to terms with the heart that beats inside me. It’s also about understanding how God has knit together my heart with the hearts of that old lady and that little kid. Wholeheartedness is about seeing and comprehending my place in a bigger family of faith, just as parenthood has transformed my understanding of my role in a biological and social unit. It is about risking hurt and confusion for the sake of the thing that so many of us seek: belonging...I join in the long, glorious, and sometimes painful chorus, that song sung over the millennia by the hopeful and the brokenhearted, by the downtrodden and the seemingly forsaken, by mothers and teachers, by survivors and activists, by saints and pastors, by disciples and friends. I say yes because they said yes.”

Please consider joining the circle of reflection on Thursday evenings — just come when you can! — and pick up a book on Sunday or stop by the Church office. I so look forward to being with you!

Peter Hawkinson

All over the gospels, there’s a common occurrence, when Jesus, who claims to be the Messiah, is eating and having fellowship with “sinners” – Grumbling. Grumbling. And Jesus is trying to get the religious folk to understand the grace of God, and that it’s only by grace that they can find life with God, and that by grace they CAN find life with God!

In our early Covenant Church days, there was a man in 1871 identified only as “L. Peterson from Princeton, IL”, who ruminated on this gospel moment that comes frequently in a letter to a friend, as they were considering grace together. The letter ends with this prayer:

May God,

from whom all grace comes,

fill our dead, cold, lukewarm,

empty, narrow, sluggish,

careless, false, hypocritical,

unfaithful, doubting, frivolous,

erring, godless, corrupted,

dispirited, depressed, sorrowful,

GLAD hearts.

I’m struck by that prayer, how it seems celebrative and hopeful, even though it contains an exhaustive and exhausting list of confessed sins. Guilty as charged! Honest to the hilt! Yet gladness remains, a glad heart, only because of grace, and the activity of the God from whom all grace comes. I have experienced it in others, and myself have struggled mightily with the nature of grace, that it can only be accepted, never earned, that it can only be received through an honest confession of utter underserving, and that it is precisely this honest confession that makes grace understood and thus gladden the heart.

I knew another old man a hundred years later in 1971. I’d watch Milton during the weekly time of congregational confession for an obvious reason, because the same thing happened every week: he’d lay his head down on the pew in front of him, hands folded above him, often with tears, as if in agony, and then raise himself up just in time to hear the pastor’s words of assurance – “In Jesus Christ, your sins are forgiven” – suddenly smiling broadly as if to someone up in the rafters, taking a deep, deep breath. Just like that, every week.

Honesty, I think, gets a bad rap, especially when it comes to being honest with God – God is, after all slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and more than anything else, filled with grace. As my maternal grandmother used to say, “Sometimes a good cry is the best thing!” So consider a brutal honesty before God as the way to a Glad heart.

All Thanks be to God!

Peter Hawkinson

What a fellowship, what a joy divine, leaning on the everlasting arms. What a blessedness, what a peace is mine, leaning on the everlasting arms. Leaning, leaning, safe and secure from all alarms; leaning, leaning, leaning on the everlasting arms. (Covenant Hymnal 83)

I remember it to be a favorite of pastor Bob’s that we would sing often, with his reminder that we sing as though we really mean it.

Robert Dvorak faithfully and with great joy pastored our Winnetka Covenant Church from 1987 to 1998. We remember his Great expansive gift of pastoral care, taking shape from early morning until late at night; for his love of church music, especially the old gospel hymns of the church, and his musical acumen which often found him leading from the piano or organ; for his habit of working while standing up, typewriter on top of the file cabinet in his office; for his exquisite penmanship, and his love of writing notes of care; for his impeccable attention to detail; for his love of worship in the church and forming its liturgy; and for his taste for Kolaches and his Czech heritage.

His ministry found him becoming my primary mentor, as I came to be youth pastor in the fall of 1989, and spent the next four years watching and learning from Bob, and Dottie too! Together their deep love for the congregation was so naturally evident. I remember Bob’s recurrent word that “ministry is about presence and relationship. Ministry is about presence and relationship.” Indeed, it was. Countless stories still are told about pastor Bob’s presence at a hospital bed, or with a knock at the door, almost as if he possessed some kind of spirit-led instinct to find us even before our own awareness of need for care and companionship. This was his primary gift — of companionship — with his broad smile, his deep focused eyes holding compassion, and his friendship and care which brought such comfort along life’s journey.

I will be traveling to New Hampshire for his memorial service which will take place this Friday at 10 a.m. cst. You can find the link to join the gathering here:

https://player.castr.com/live_072610a01ac511f0a8aad3bab9433cc3

Please join as we together we remember God’s faithful servant who blessed us so.

May Robert Dvorak’s memory be a blessing, and may he rest in peace and rise in glory.

Peter Hawkinson

Stories are one of the most powerful ways we share life, teach, and grow. Through them, we begin to see how the Holy Spirit is actively working in our lives—connecting moments, shaping us, and guiding us forward. As spring arrives, I find myself thinking about change: how we long for it, yet often fear what it might bring, especially when we feel unprepared.

The lectionary readings in this season are filled with stories of change. The disciples faced a profound shift after Jesus was gone. We might expect they would know exactly what to do—go out, spread the good news, and live into their calling. After all, Jesus had prepared them. And yet, they were afraid. They felt uncertain.

This feels familiar. We, too, can prepare for a change we know is coming, only to feel lost when it is time to step into it.

I remember feeling this deeply as I approached graduation from seminary—a springtime transition of my own. I had completed my coursework, internships, and ordination exams. I was certified and ready to receive a call. But the call had not yet come. And without a call, I could not be ordained.

There were opportunities to return to youth ministry, work I had done before seminary. But I felt drawn toward ordained ministry, and these positions were as a director, not a pastor. At the same time, my husband’s work limited where we could go, and I began to wonder if what I had been hearing was truly God’s call—or simply my own desire.

In that season of uncertainty, I came to an important realization: I had been setting aside the gifts God had already given me, believing I needed to become someone different for what was ahead. I thought I needed a new set of gifts, a new identity. But through deeper discernment, and with the guidance of wise spiritual friends, I began to see that I was called to use all my gifts—both the ones I had long known and the ones still unfolding.

God was not asking me to become someone entirely new, but to bring together all that I had been shaped to be. That understanding led me to a ministry that was not quite on the traditional path—Dinner Church. Drawing on my years in youth ministry and my seminary training, I found a way to create community and share faith in a different setting. It was there that I was called and ordained, not by

leaving my past behind, but by weaving it into something new.

So, as spring unfolds and we move into the days ahead, I invite you to reflect on your own story. Where has each chapter taken you? Who has journeyed alongside you in times of discernment? Do you feel like a caterpillar, expected to transform into something completely different to become a butterfly? Or is it possible that God is doing something else—something more like weaving?

Gathering the threads of your past and present, your old gifts and new ones, into a tapestry that is still unfinished, still becoming.

Peace,

Pastor Kristie

Connected to Life

I am the vine, you are the branches. 

Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit,

Because apart from me you can do nothing.

(John 15)

Things are beginning to come to life again. It’s interesting that weeds seem to come first. They are hearty! Creation’s miracle of spring reminds us again that even through bitter winter and under the frozen ground, life remains, waiting for just the right time to sprint up out of the ground, reaching for the blessed warmth of the Sun, alive again. What we see is only part of the story. Life comes from what’s underneath, down in the soil. Connection to the root is what matters. Without it, there is no beauty, no fruit, no life. 

And so this word from Jesus to his disciples is worth contemplating; it comes naturally in the springtime of life. There is both here an invitation to life and a warning about death. Abiding is a possibility, and from it a new season of life, but death is also a possibility if the roots of our lives somehow get cut off from our source. Wild life ensues…which way will things go?

Well, I’m struck by how much depends on my choices and decisions. Maybe rhythm is more like it. Just like the flowers power through the hard ground to breath in the sun and open up to the spring rains, there are obstacles aplenty for me and for you. The obstacles (time, space, energy, priorities) don’t leave, they don’t go away! No! Somehow it’s up to me to us to figure out how to abide with Christ in the stressed, chaotic, and often dark and stifling days of life we have. 

Abiding is about going, but it’s more about returning again and again, about staying with Jesus – lingering, living with the One who is life for us. And the only way this happens is by habit, and with intention.

Are you connected to Christ, your life-line?

What needs to go for you to find time and space to abide with Jesus?

How might this be a growing season ahead for you?

What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us? (Romans 8:31, NRSV)

What can we ever say to such wonderful things as these? If God is on our side, who can ever be against us? (Romans 8:31, Living Bible)

I woke up this morning with this grand question of Paul in my wondering. It seems on the one hand he just can’t find words to explain the mystery of God’s love acted out — and yet this question comes right in the middle of arguably the greatest description of the good news of the gospel that we have in all of scripture. Romans chapter 8 — just take it in at some point with with Easter day still fresh in your spirit.

Walking Bear this morning, I found my earbuds and an old favorite song, “Speechless”, by Steven Curtis Chapman, from the year 1999. His expression helps me find mine in Eastertide:

Words fall like drops of rain/my lips are like clouds/I say so many things trying to figure you out/But as mercy opens my eyes my words are stolen away/with this breathtaking view of your grace

And I am speechless/I’m astonished and amazed/I am silenced by your wondrous grace/you have saved me/you have raised me from the grave/and I am speechless in your presence now/I’m astounded as I consider how/you have shown us a love that leaves us speechless

So what kind of love could this be/that would trade Heaven’s throne for a cross/and to think you still celebrate/over finding just one who was lost/and to know you rejoice over us/the God of the whole universe/it’s a story that’s too great for words.

Bear kinda kept glancing back at me as if to see if I was ok as I sang/shouted my joy with Steven. The song continues, finding the scripture doxology:

Oh how great is the love the Father has lavished upon us/that we should be called the sons and the daughters of God

I guess I’m thinking about the wonder of this good news of our faith that comes to life forever in Jesus’ resurrection, and the challenge of putting words to it. Or maybe more it’s that words diminish the wonder of it all, that there are times — days, hopefully seasons of life — when the invitation is not to try and explain or make sense of such love, but just swim in it like the hymn says, a favorite line — “May the love of Jesus fill me as the waters fill the sea…” (Hymnal 366).

I am praying that resurrection’s news can just blow through my life and fill my spirit for awhile now, even though Easter day has come and gone. As I watch creation come bursting through the soil, as the sun starts to warm me up (hopefully!) after a long winter, and as I look into life’s challenges, always still around, with a deep and abiding hope.

I’m with St. Paul today. Just throwing my arms up in joy and wonder, with the only words I can find:

What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us?

Celebrating with you wherever you are!

Peter Hawkinson

HOLY SATURDAY
April 4, 2026
Year A, Revised Common Lectionary

Job 14:1-14

“A mortal, born of woman, few of days and full of trouble,
comes up like a flower and withers, flees like a shadow and does not last.
Do you fix your eyes on such a one? Do you bring me into judgment with
you? Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? No one can. Since
their days are determined, and the number of their months is known to you,
and you have appointed the bounds that they cannot pass, look away from
them and desist, that they may enjoy, like laborers, their days. “For there is
hope for a tree, if it is cut down, that it will sprout again and that its shoots
will not cease. Though its root grows old in the earth and its stump dies in
the ground, yet at the scent of water it will bud and put forth branches like a
young plant. But mortals die and are laid low; humans expire, and where are
they? As waters fail from a lake and a river wastes away and dries up, so
mortals lie down and do not rise again; until the heavens are no more, they
will not awake or be roused out of their sleep. O that you would hide me in
Sheol, that you would conceal me until your wrath is past, that you would
appoint me a set time and remember me! If mortals die, will they live again?
All the days of my service I would wait until my release should come.

Lamentations 3:1-9, 19-24

I am one who has seen affliction under the
rod of God’s wrath; he has driven and brought me into darkness without
any light; against me alone he turns his hand, again and again, all day long.
He has made my flesh and my skin waste away; he has broken my bones;
he has besieged and enveloped me with bitterness and tribulation; he has
made me sit in darkness like the dead of long ago. He has walled me about
so that I cannot escape; he has put heavy chains on me; though I call and
cry for help, he shuts out my prayer; he has blocked my ways with hewn
stones; he has made my paths crooked. The thought of my affliction and my
homelessness is wormwood and gall! My soul continually thinks of it and is
bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an
end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The LORD is
my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”

Psalm 31:1-4, 15-16

In you, O LORD, I seek refuge; do not let me ever
be put to shame; in your righteousness deliver me. Incline your ear to me;
rescue me speedily. Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save
me. You are indeed my rock and my fortress; for your name’s sake lead me
and guide me; take me out of the net that is hidden for me, for you are my
refuge. My times are in your hand; deliver me from the hand of my enemies
and persecutors. Let your face shine upon your servant; save me in your
steadfast love.

1 Peter 4:1-8

Since, therefore, Christ suffered in the flesh, arm
yourselves also with the same intention (for whoever has suffered in the
flesh has finished with sin), so as to live for the rest of your time in the flesh
no longer by human desires but by the will of God. You have already spent
enough time in doing what the gentiles like to do, living in debauchery,
passions, drunkenness, revels, carousing, and lawless idolatry. They are
surprised that you no longer join them in the same excesses of dissipation,
and so they blaspheme. But they will have to give an accounting to him who
stands ready to judge the living and the dead. For this is the reason the
gospel was proclaimed even to the dead, so that, though they had been
judged in the flesh as everyone is judged, they might live in the spirit as God
does. The end of all things is near; therefore be serious and discipline
yourselves for the sake of your prayers. Above all, maintain constant love for
one another, for love covers a multitude of sins.

Matthew 27:57-66

When it was evening, there came a rich man from
Arimathea named Joseph, who also was himself a disciple of Jesus. He went
to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus; then Pilate ordered it to be given
to him. So Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth and
laid it in his new tomb, which he had hewn in the rock. He then rolled a
great stone to the door of the tomb and went away. Mary Magdalene and
the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb. The next day, that is,
after the day of Preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered
before Pilate and said, “Sir, we remember what that impostor said while he
was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise again.’ Therefore command the
tomb to be made secure until the third day; otherwise, his disciples may go
and steal him away and tell the people, ‘He has been raised from the dead,’
and the last deception would be worse than the first.” Pilate said to them,
“You have a guard of soldiers; go, make it as secure as you can.” So they
went with the guard and made the tomb secure by sealing the stone.
John 19:38-42 After these things, Joseph of Arimathea, who was a
disciple of Jesus, though a secret one because of his fear of the Jews,
asked Pilate to let him take away the body of Jesus. Pilate gave him
permission, so he came and removed his body. Nicodemus, who had at first
come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes,
weighing about a hundred pounds. They took the body of Jesus and
wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of
the Jews. Now there was a garden in the place where he was crucified, and
in the garden there was a new tomb in which no one had ever been laid.
And so, because it was the Jewish day of Preparation and the tomb was
nearby, they laid Jesus there.