Being Moravian

[The following is about being part of the protestant denomination of Moravians, and attending Central Moravian Church in Bethlehem, PA, which was founded by the Moravians in 1742, as many of you know. Central (the building, not the congregation) is celebrating its 200th anniversary this year.] There is a moment during today's crucifixion service that is very affecting. After about 45 minutes of reading the gospel story of the crucifixion and singing some hymn verses, we suddenly stand as the pastor reads out Christ's last words and the description of his death. This serves to heighten the drama, as it were, and to wake us up. But right after this, we kneel (or hunch over in our seats) and are silent while the church bell tolls out above us. It is at this moment that I feel connected to the history of this town in a way that doesn't often happen. As I listen to that bell ring out of a belfry that has loomed above Bethlehem for 200 years, I can picture it happening year after year, tolling to empty fields and houses (everyone's at church, after all) in 1806, tolling to the expanding city through the 19th Century, tolling to the iron works and its skeleton crew just across the river in 1900, tolling to the rapidly growing city on the south side with its many nationalities and religions and the steel mill beginning to dwarf the original Moravian city, tolling to the joined entities of north and south Bethlehem and its massive city-within-a-city of blast furnaces and rolling mills and machine shops, many of the executives of which are in the church as their workers manufacture a Navy fleet during WWII, tolling to the forest of other steeples and belfries now spread throughout a diverse and hardly pausing town, now with just the shell of the Steel sitting quiety along the river. Mostly, I admit, I think of the old German Moravians setting up the immediate surroundings of the church, and when I leave I can walk out of the northeast door and walk toward the cemetery and almost everything that falls into view is much as it was for those town fathers and mothers. And now, in spring, the trees on the church lawn are in bloom, the grass is greening, and the air is sweet. How does one return to work after that? I am not good about going to church regularly, but I am very good about going to Holy Week services, for the reasons described above (and others--I'm sinfully proud of our choir, and the music they make at this time of year is killer). Just before I went over to the churchhouse, I was reading about more current events in the region of Jerusalem, and it was hard not to reflect upon them as I listened to the Passion story. Especially when members of the House of Representatives describe meetings with the President about attacking Iran, saying, "The most worrisome thing is that this guy has a messianic vision [of his role in the history of the Middle East]." Encouraging, no? I'm sure Jesus would have used nuclear bunker-buster bombs, had he had the chance. PHILLIES NOTES (2006 edition): Well, they've won two in a row for the first time this season. The team looks pretty solid, but it is going to come down to how consistent the starting pitching is. Lots of potential, but the collective negative vibe that shimmers off of Philadelphia "fans" and the press may be enough to prevent any momentum from building up. Listen to WIP, the sports talk radio station down in Philly, and be amazed at the anger and sense of entitlement that comes through from the hosts and callers. Every fielding mistake, strikeout, poorly thrown pitch, is a personal affront to these people. They are convinced that they deserve better. I have trouble agreeing.

Phillies

The season is here, and so is my agony. The Phillies are 0-3. Good grief.