A SPECIAL ADVENT PENTECOST

The Holy Spirit works in many ways at Advent, but one Pentecost stands out in the memory of many members who were there to experience it.  Pastor Dick Little used to love to talk about how the Holy Spirit which came to the disciples as a rushing wind, was actually part of our life giving breath.  In talking about it one time he even eluded to balloons and how they could represent the breath of the Holy Spirit in church. To illustrate his point, at one Church Council Leadership Retreat he had our “distinguished church elders” blow up balloons and bat them around in a joyful game to illustrate the joy of the Holy Spirit.

Joey the clown (AKA Joe?) on Pentecost

That got Joe Palumbo and Keith Wassum thinking… and then plotting!  Pentecost was approaching and they thought it would be a great surprise to have a red balloon arch in the sanctuary to represent the Holy Spirit and to have balloons of every color in the Narthex for folks to take to represent the many tongues of the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit “inspired” them to take this initiative on completely by themselves and in secrecy, even to the pastor!  Knowing that they did not quite have enough “life-giving breath” on their own, they decided to let a helium tank help out the Holy Spirit, and they arrived on the morning of Pentecost (to quote Keith) at “dark thirty.”  They had just finished the red balloon arch that would span the entire Sanctuary and were blowing up balloons for the Narthex, when Pastor Little arrived to get ready for morning services.  The look on his face was priceless and worth all of their efforts.  Then as Joe and Keith were almost rolling on the floor laughing, Dick quickly sobered up and thought, “What will people think?  How will I incorporate this into my sermon and worship?”  But the joy of the Holy Spirit overcame any fears he may have had and spread throughout the congregation that day!

Here is the poem that inspired Pastor Little, Joe and Keith.

BALLOONS BELONG IN CHURCH

by Ann Weems

I took to church one morning a happy four-year-old boy

Holding a bright blue string to which was attached 

his much loved orange balloon with pink stripes...

Certainly a thing of beauty

And if not forever, at least a joy for a very important now.

When later he met me at the door

Clutching blue string, orange and pink bobbing behind him,

He didn't have to tell me something had gone wrong.

"What's the matter?"

He wouldn't tell me.

"I bet they loved your balloon..."

Out it came, then -- mocking the teacher's voice, "We don't bring balloons to church."

Then that little four-year old, his lip a little trembly, asked:

"Why aren't balloons allowed in church? I thought God would like balloons."

I celebrate balloons, parades and chocolate chip cookies.

I celebrate seashells and elephants and lions that roar.

I celebrate roasted marshmallows and chocolate cake and fresh fish.

I celebrate aromas: bread baking, mincemeat, lemons...

I celebrate seeing: bright colors, wheat in a field, tiny wild flowers...

I celebrate hearing: waves pounding, the rain's rhythm, soft voices...

I celebrate touching: toes in the sand, a kitten's soft fur, another person...

I celebrate the sun that shines slab dab in our faces...

I celebrate the crashing thunder and the brazen lightning...

And I celebrate the green of the world...the life-giving green...the hope-giving green...

I celebrate birth: the wonder...the miracle...of that tiny life already asserting its selfhood.

I celebrate children

who laugh out loud

who walk in the mud and dawdle in the puddles

who put chocolate fingers anywhere

who like to be tickled

who scribble in church

who whisperin loud voices

who sing in louder voices

who run...and laugh when they fall

who cry at the top of their lungs

who cover themselves with bandaids

who squeeze the toothpaste all over the bathroom

who slurp their soup

who chew coughdrops

who ask questions

who give us sticky, paste-covered creations

who want their picture taken

who won't use their napkins

who bury goldfish, sleep with the dog, scream at their best friend

who hug us in a hurry and rush outside without their hats.

I celebrate children

who are so busy living they don't have time for our hangups

And I celebrate adults who are as little children.

I celebrate the man who breaks up the meaningless routines of his life.

The man who stops to reflect, to question, to doubt.

-- The man who isn't afraid to feel....

The man who refuses to play the game.

I celebrate anger at injustice

I celebrate tears for the mistreated, the hurt, the lonely...

I celebrate the community that cares... the church...

I celebrate the church.

I celebrate the times when we in the church made it...

When we answered a cry

When we held to our warm and well-fed bodies a lonely world.

I celebrate the times when we let God get through to our hiding places

Through our maze of meetings

Our pleasant facade...deep down to our selfhood

Deep down to where we really are.

Call it heart, soul, naked self

It's where we hide

Deep down away from God

And away from each other.

I celebrate the times when the church is the Church

When we are Christians

When we are living, loving, contributing God's children...

I celebrate that He calls us His children even when we are in hiding.

I celebrate love...the moments when the You is more important than the I

I celebrate the perfect love...the cross...the Christ

loving in spite of...

giving without reward

I celebrate the music within a man that must be heard

I celebrate life...that we may live more abundantly...

Where did we get the idea that balloons don't belong in the church?

Where did we get the idea that God loves gray and Sh-h-h-h-h

And drab and anything will do?

I think it's blasphemy not to appreciate the joy in God's world.

I think it's blasphemy not to bring our joy into His church.

For God so loved the world

That He hung there

Loving the unlovable

What beautiful gift cannot be offered unto the Lord?

Whether it's a balloon or a song or some joy that sits within you waiting to

have the lid taken off.

The Scriptures say there's a time to laugh and a time to weep.

It's not hard to see the reasons for crying in a world where man's hatred for

man is so manifest.

So celebrate!

Bring your balloons and your butterflies, your bouquets of flowers...

Bring the torches and hold them high!

Dance your dances, paint your feelings, sing your songs, whistle, laugh.

Life is a celebration, an affirmation of God's love.

Life is distributing more balloons.

For God so loved the world...

Surely that's a cause for Joy.

Surely we should celebrate!

Good News! That He should love us that much.

Where did we ever get the idea that balloons don't belong in the church?

Refugee Resettlement and the American Dream

Welcoming Polish Refugees to Advent, 1984

Refugees. Immigrants. Asylum-seekers.  Lately these words have become hot-button and divisive issues politically in our country.  But in the 70's and 80's Advent embraced several refugee families, and politics never entered our thoughts.  We were just helping folks escape tyranny and come to America, just as our ancestors had.  I recently re-connected with one of the families and their story definitely  defines The American Dream.

I remember the first time I met Jan and Bozena Adamczuk my first thought was, "She's so young!  What courage it must take to leave everything and step into a country you barely know!"  When we talked about it over dinner a few days ago, she admitted to being both scared and excited.  "I missed my family terribly.  Especially my sisters.  But Jan said, 'I'm your family now.  We are a family.  We will be just fine.'  His strength and positive attitude carried us and we worked hard to join the American culture.  When you are as young as we were, you don't have a good sense of what you are leaving, but just think of the future."

The Adamczuk's and me on their first Sunday in America

The church was able to secure a small apartment for them on 36th Street before it was the trendy NoDa neighborhood.   Paul Johnson, an Advent member help set up both of the Polish couples we brought over with Thurston Motor Lines.  They began as mechanics and proved to be hard workers.  Jan was eager to learn all aspects of trucking from driving, mechanics and maintenance, and managing the business.  Bozena became pregnant with their first son and remembers fondly their sponsor, Jimmie Smith.  His mother Jean came and spent a week with her after Tristan was born, teaching her how to take care of the baby.  "Being away from my own mom, I needed a mother figure," she said.

Bozena and Jan Adamczuk with baby Tristan
during a visit by Bozena's Mom

Jan was always the positive one and kept repeating his mantra that "America is the land of opportunity and we will make our lives here."    They found several other young Polish families at St. Gabriel's Catholic Church and began creating their own extended circle of family and friends there.  Tristan, their son was born their first year here and Deanna, their daughter came along five years later.

During their first decade in America, they would frugally save so that they could afford visits back to Poland to visit family. They would alternate going with the children. Bozena remembers during her first visits, she would cry uncontrollably on the plane ride back as she left her family again back in Poland.  Then on her 3rd or 4th trip back from Poland, she remembers having the feeling of going back "home" to America.  North Carolina was her home now.  With Jan, Tristan and Deanna, this was home.

The Adamczuk Family today

They continued to save and over the years they began to sponsor Bozena's sisters and their husbands and bring them to America.  Finally after her youngest sister finished high school, they sponsored her and her mother, and brought them all to America.  Today they all live either in Charlotte or Atlanta.

As Jan learned the trucking business, he decided to go out on his own and start his own company.  At one time he managed 27 trucks, doing all of the maintenance himself, with Bozena managing the payroll and finances from home with her young growing family.  It was hard, but satifying work.  Today, Tristan manages the operations, and Deanna just recently joined the company to manage the financial end.  Both of their children graduated from UNCC.  Tristan is married and has two children and Deanna is engaged and lives around the corner from me!

As we caught up over dinner recently, it was obvious that their hard work has paid off.  Jan and Bozena now live near South Park and have been able to travel extensively in Europe, especially Italy and Poland.  We shared stories of travel and launching our children through college to careers and houses of their own.

Before we became members, Advent also sponsored two Hmong families.  Pastor Hess remembers  when their first son was born, they said they wanted to name him "A".  Bernie told him that American names were usually longer, so they settled on Andy.   We had a similar experience with a Vietnamese family in Greensboro.  They named their son Cain.  When our pastor said that was the son of Adam who killed his brother, he said, "Yes, I know.  He was the one who survived."   We all got chills, and a completely new perspective of that Bible story!

I assume that the baby is Andy

After a few months the two Advent families decided to move to Wisconsin where other Hmong families had settled. They put the wives and baby on a Greyhound bus and rented a U-Haul to drive to Wisconsin.  Bernie was worried that they would have trouble finding their way that far.  Sa Vang said, "Bernie Hess I swam across the Mekong River at night to get to safety,  I think I can find my way to Wisconsin."

As I relived our refugee resettlement efforts, I realized that our efforts were just one example of how we live out our motto to "Love God, Serve Neighbors", for in Christ we are all neighbors no matter where we started.


.

FROM RUBBLE TO RESURRECTION

The Charlotte Observer September 17, 1988

Bertie Billups, our church secretary was finishing up her Friday tasks when she heard the glass break.  Through her window she saw a man break into the church from Mark Twain Rd. with a double sided fire ax.  She hit the floor and reached for the phone to call 911.  She told the police she could hear him chopping up the altar in the Sanctuary.  "Are you safe? Can you get out of the building?" the operator asked.  She jumped out of her window as the police were arriving.  A mentally ill neighbor, whose family had helped build the church, was in a psychotic rage.  

Word spread fast without cell phones or social media.  Soon Pastor Little and several church members stood behind the police barricade.  A SWAT team took over our parking lot.  Students gathered across the street to watch a real live police drama unfold.  The police scanner had announced a hostage situation, but thankfully Bertie was now among the spectators along the police line.  Pastor Little talked with the police and encouraged them not to use force.  He knew this man, and recognized his mental illness.  His life was more precious than any of our things.

For two and a half hours he wielded his ax against every religious symbol he could find.  Our altar was kindling.  Our organ and piano were chopped into pieces so small they fit into the closet at the back of the church until the insurance adjuster came.  Every chair, hymnal and Bible had an ax chop.  He ended in the Pastor's office, crashing computers, framed photos and books.  Pictures on the news showed him prone on the sidewalk outside the church office in cuffs.  He had finally burned out his rage and we knew he was tired.  Our work was just beginning.

The altar and altar rail were unrecognizable

It was Friday night and our church was in shambles.  David Park is quoted in the paper as saying, "We should have church here on Sunday."  David was voicing what we all felt.  Somehow we must come together in this place, hold each other, grieve, and give thanks for sparing Bertie from the rage.  We prayed for Bertie and we prayed for our neighbor.  The task of rebuilding must begin.  The night before a planning session had been held to begin planning for a new Sanctuary, but that would be two years in the making.  Tonight we needed to organize the clean up and figure out how the congregation could survive.  

We quickly realized that we would need to document the destruction for our insurance claim before and during the clean up.  David Park brought in a new monitor and hard drive for the computer and set up a data base to create the inventory of our destruction.  That night the inventory began. Word was sent out to gather at 10 am on Saturday to begin the clean up.  

Members of the congregation look shocked as they organize the clean up.

As we wielded our brooms against the broken glass and damaged items, we realized that we did not always know some of the folks who showed up to help.  One or two would arrive quietly, pick up a broom and work for an hour to be replaced by other quiet workers.  We learned that the local chapter of AMI (Alliance for the Mentally Ill) was sending folks to help us clean up. Each of these workers had mentally ill family members and knew that "it could have been one of them."  Our ministry suddenly included these kind folks as we reached out to each other to help heal.

Pastor Little's office

As we swept and inventoried damaged items, the phone began to ring off the hook.  The religious community from many surrounding counties began to offer help.  One brought us an organ to use, another an altar,  hymn books arrived and a piano.  We were grateful for the metal folding chairs and would use them for two years until the new sanctuary provided us with comfortable pews.  By mid-afternoon, we knew that we would not only survive, but with community support, would thrive. 

Each chair had 1 or 2 ax cuts. Our paraments, banners, crosses, and candlestick were strewn among the rubble.

The next week we met with our insurance company, and they were bowled over by our pictures and detailed inventory from the hastily composed data base.  We expected to negotiate.  They wrote us a generous check on the spot.  And the  community continued to respond with contributions large and small, often matched by Lutheran Brotherhood (now Thrivent).  We used the money to begin our recovery and as seed money to begin our new Sanctuary.

Just 1 page of a multipage document
thanking folks for their contributions.

We felt as if we had experienced a Resurrection that Sunday morning.  Instead of being the helpers, we had learned to receive help. Each of those uncomfortable metal folding chairs were gratefully filled and the organ praised God mightily.  We even had a congregational picnic afterward in the park to support Habitat.  In three days we had gone from utter destruction within our walls to gathering together to receiving Grace through Christ and community.

HOLIDAY TRADITIONS

With the Advent and Christmas seasons upon us, I've been thinking about traditions lately.  As my own family grows and changes, our family traditions evolve.  Some are "cast in stone" and others drop off, and new ones emerge.  That is true of Advent, too. In 50 years we have always had a Christmas Pageant, but do you know about the Valentine's Dinner and Fashion Show, Progressive Dinner, or Palm Sunday Walk?


ADVENT, CHRISTMAS AND EPIPHANY

It is impossible to write about all of the traditions associated with Advent and Christmas. Of course the Christmas Pageant is one of those "cast in stone." But even it has evolved. The wonderful Appalachian Christmas that we experienced this year is great example. When Advent was young, the Christmas Pageant consisted of the retelling of the basic Christmas story by the children, usually with either an older youth or adult narrator. Last Sunday and in recent years, we have incorporated all ages of the congregation, incorporated the choir, and retold the story as a full fledged play set in contemporary times. This is a wonderful evolution that involves more of the congregation and helps us contemplate how the never-changing story of Christ coming among us can be lived out today.

Joyce Fox and I produced a memorable pageant in the late 80's.  While we weren't quite plagued with the foibles of The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, we felt there was too much competition over choosing Mary and Joseph.  So one year we cooked up the idea to let each of the children choose whomever they wanted to be, and designed a program so that we could have multiple Marys, Josephs, shepherds, angels, animals, etc.  We coached the kids to come dressed as their favorite character in the narrative or to come early and choose or make a costume before the pageant. We got out all of the costumes and had materials for extras. As we prepared to tell the story, we had adults in the major roles and as the story was told, the adult Mary would gather all of the young Marys and talk to them about what it might have been like for her on that special night.  We planned to do this for Joseph, the angels, shepherds, even the animals! What we didn't count on was  several of the boys wanting to be the Inn Keeper.  At the last minute we added this part and recruited June Porter in the adult role.  June did a great job explaining the census and how his inn was full. He was even having to put people up in the barn!  Then one of the little darlings (I think it was Matthew Fox or Ernie Eich), brought the house down with his probing question:  "I've always wondered, was there a pool in that Holiday Inn?"  June truly "lost it" and luckily Ellen Eich, our choir director, helped us gather our composure by inserting a few Christmas Carols.

During those times, we were a very young congregation.  Most of us had young children and needed a few fellowship opportunities that were "just for the adults."  This produced the Progressive Dinner, a tradition that lived at least 10 years or more.  We would begin at the church with appetizers and then go to folk's homes in groups of 6-10 for the main meal, then gather back at the church for dessert.  As the event evolved, we would sometimes end at one of the member's houses. I remember several years we ended at Kirby and Cherie Strickland's home. As the event neared, we eagerly awaited the list to be published of who was coming to whose home!  I think the organizers of this event  saw this as both a logistical nightmare and opportunity to put folks together that would generate "interesting" conversations!  It definitely let us see the adult side of our fellow parishioners!  

The Christmas season ends with Epiphany.  In the 80's we were not within the city limits of Charlotte but "out in the county".  We would end Christmas and celebrate the light of Epiphany with the "burning of the greens."  Using our real Chrismon tree and several contributed from the neighborhood we would greet the stars of Epiphany with a bonfire, a last round of Christmas carols, roasted marshmallows, and inevitably a few fireworks.  The year that we became incorporated into the city, our celebration was interrupted with the sound of fire sirens.  They came closer and closer and suddenly we realized they were coming for us! We were no longer under the jurisdiction of the volunteer firehouse who was accustomed to our celebration!  While we could of perhaps applied for a religious exemption, we decided that this was one tradition who's end had come.  We also had to purchase an artificial Christmas tree the next year.  It was either that, or forego the lights.  And with a newly paved parking lot, we had lost our temporary fire pit. Urbanization has its price! 

VALENTINES:
DINNERS, DANCES, AND FASHION SHOWS!




In this same vein, the men of the church had a tradition that lasted several decades of sponsoring a Valentines Day dinner, often including dancing, just for the adults of the church. One of the sweetest things I remember about this event was how an extra effort was made to include the single adult women of the congregation with or without a "date". Old pictures record that a few of these dinners were held at the church and the women contributed "themed" fashion shows! These are some of my favorite photos from the archive!!

I love this picture for it shows the old Sunday School/Gathering space that is now the Campus Ministry space and June Porter at a table of all women including  Miss Ruth Blackwelder!
(Mabel's seat is empty - I'm sure she was "fixin' something" in the kitchen!)

Diane Wassum as a World Traveler,
dressed in maps and a Polaroid camera!!
(You may have to explain a polaroid to younger members of the Advent family!)

Ann Hess - What was she selling? 

As the event evolved, the men moved it to various restaurants, of which there weren't many back then in the University Area.  The Amber House and a long-gone Chinese restaurant which used to be on North Tryon near the Old Concord Rd. train stop hosted us.  And for several years we drove out to Cabarrus County to Lake Lynn Lodge.  This added dancing to the festivities.  When UNCC added space available to the community in the Cone Center, we moved across the street.  Whether it was dinner, dancing, or a fashion show, I remember the men always gave each woman a rose!

EASTER








Like Christmas, Palm Sunday and Easter hold many traditions. One that has survived 50 years is the making of Palm Crosses. On our very first Palm Sunday, Pastor McKay's parents were living in Savannah, and they sent us palm fronds to make our first crosses.





For many years we joined with St. Thomas Aquinas and other neighborhood churches for a palm walk through the College Downs neighborhood, joyfully singing common Easter hymns. This provided us an opportunity to witness in the community and with other Christian neighbors.











For several years we held a Seder meal complete with lamb and bitter herbs (much to the distress of my son, the picky eater, who now as an adult loves these things!)


Tenebrae Services on Maundy Thursday have had several forms. One of the first I remember included a chillingly beautiful a cappella solo of Were You There by Kuniko Barber as the church went to complete darkness.




Back to school has had several traditions, some new and some evolving. For many years we had a Campus Ministry Committee and we would grill hamburgers and hot dogs on campus to welcome the students back. As with many traditions this one has evolved. Diane Large remembers a recent year when Popsicle and frozen treats were greatly appreciated as students moved in on a hot day, and chocolates have been a big hit too!


Rally Day is also a day when we traditionally kick off our Sunday School year. For many years we would traditionally reserve a shelter at either Frank Liske or Reedy Creek Park. After a congregational picnic, the adults would take on the children in a game of soft ball or volley ball.


A newer tradition that shows our growth in social ministry is the backpack ministry we launch in the summer as Christmas in July.






Fall Festival and Halloween

A few years ago a tradition was added to the Men's Fall BBQ. They joined with Sharon Thrower and Adventure Preschool to add a Fall Festival and Trunk or Treat Event. This has become very successful in celebrating the outreach that the preschool has in the neighborhood and community at large!





WHAT IS A TRADITION?


It has been fun to think about the various holiday traditions at Advent. I looked up tradition in dictionary.com and it said, "the handing down of statements, beliefs, legends, customs, information, etc., from generation to generation". I also "googled" How many times do you have to do a thing for it to become a tradition? The answer varied from 3 to 20 depending who responded to the query. I'm sure I've left out much more than I've written about. It would be fun for you to add your memories of Advent Holiday traditions in the comment section. While our traditions may come and go, evolve, or be "cast in stone", one thread seems to run through them: a sense of spiritual community and a desire to live in a Christian community that "loves God and serves our neighbor". Tradition dictates that we pass this along.