Sermon: Senior Reflections

Reflections - Graduating High School Seniors
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Congregational Church of Brookfield - UCC

1 Corinthians 12 (Selected Verses)

KATIE LUIS - 

For those of you who don't know me, my name is Katie Luis, and this year I am finally graduating from Brookfield High School!  I have been coming to this church for a long time, but started actually attending weekly in middle school.  During this time I was always shy and nervous about nearly everything, but a lot has changed as I have grown up in this place.  Over the years I have hopefully learned something in high school, but through this place I have truly learned the sense of community.  I can easily look around and find people who have been supporters, teachers, and friends.

I am most grateful for the missionary work I was able to accomplish because of CCB.  Living in a small town we really only know what people from Brookfield face, which I have learned is very different from what the world around us is trying to solve.  Because of this church I have been able to expand my horizons and meet people outside of our little town.  It has allowed me to travel to Camden, NY, Eagle Butte, SD, and this summer to Orland, ME.  Through these experiences I have found out what the meaning of church is.  It's about helping one another to grow in our faith.  To me, I learn from God best through helping someone else, and this place has allowed me to do that.  

In August I will be heading up to Springfield, MA to study Secondary Education and English at Western New England University.  My hopes of being a teacher have really come out of this community.  I want to make a difference in someone else's life through education because a summer mission week in South Dakota taught me that education is a structure of support for anyone and truly a luxury to most people.  

So I thank you for making my college choices easier and also for teaching me ways of life that will prepare me for my next four years at school.  I have learned to appreciated myself and know that I am not alone in anything I will do because of the support you have given me.

Ellen Degeneres famously said, "I don't live in fear.  I'm free.  I have no secrets.  I know I'll always be okay because no matter what, I know who I am."  And because of this environment and community I know who I am.  And furthermore I would like to thank all of you for providing a place where anyone can learn, grow, be supported, and be accepted.  Thank you.

JANE MORAN-

I was baptized in King Street Church in Danbury , or at least, my parents say I was, and I see no reason not to take their word for it. My family did not start attending church with any regularity, though, until I was six years old. Up until that time my experience with organized religion was confined to my Children’s Illustrated Bible and the stately churches I saw whenever my parents took me for a car ride. There were Trinity Church and the Meeting House in Newtown , which stand right across the street from each other. There was also the church where I had been baptized, which was by far my favorite church to drive past.

Pressing my face to the car window, I would say, “Mommy! Mommy! Look at all that play stuff!” The King Street Church’s preschool was blessed with a multitude of plastic jungle gyms and swings and play houses, all on display in front of the church as if to tantalize passing children. “Mommy, someday you should let me play there. I could play there, and you go in that building and…shop.” I had no idea what people actually did in a church, but I figured shopping was a fair guess. Most buildings adults frequented, in my experience, were dedicated to buying things of one sort or another.

By the time my parents announced, seemingly out of the blue, that on Sunday morning we were going to a church in Brookfield , I had a better idea of what churches were for. They were like the opposite of stores, in that you went to them to enhance your spirituality rather than to satisfy materialistic cravings. In other ways, though, my reaction to going to church for the first time was strangely similar to my reaction to driving past churches on the way to somewhere else entirely. Church was my parents’ thing, something they were taking me along for because they knew my sister and I would guilt them mercilessly if they left us with a baby sitter. If anyone had told me then that church would end up playing such a big role in my life, I wouldn’t have understood what they were talking about.

Over the last eleven years, though, I have developed a great appreciation for this church. I have had excellent Sunday School teachers, such as Mrs. Leniart, who let us bake scones, and Mr. McGovern, who always supplied me with a new Bible after I wore the old one out. It is from the church that I have learned values that, while not exclusive to Christians, should certainly be the values of all Christians. I have learned to love people not for what they can give me but for who they are; I have learned to show kindness to strangers. The evidence of these values is all around us in the church, but you can see it outside of the church if you look.

A couple weeks ago I was washing my hands at a sink in school and I looked up and saw a note taped to the mirror. “If you left a ring here, it’s in the office,” it said, and a big smiley face was drawn under the words. I smiled when I saw it, then turned the tap off and tore a handful of brown paper towels from the roll. For some reason, though, the memory of that note stuck with me—I wondered what I would have done if I had been the one to find the ring. I knew I would never have taken it, and I probably would have brought it to the office, too, but would I have written a note?

I don’t think it ever would have occurred to me, and if it had, I wouldn’t have taken the extra time. Next time someone leaves something on a restroom sink, though, I will think of it, and I’ll do it. It’s a small thing to do, but doing small things like that is a part of what it means to be a good person. Anyone can remember to send money to feed the starving children; sometimes it’s harder to remember to carry groceries for old ladies in parking lots. CCB has opened my eyes to people’s goodness, and it has made me want to be a part of it. By nature, I’m a cynic, but over the course of the eleven years I’ve spent in this church I’ve come to believe that, working together, we really will make the world a better place.

I suppose it’s possible I could have reached those conclusions on my own, but I don’t believe it. If I hadn’t been raised to have faith in God, I don’t think I would have much faith in other people, either. Honestly, I don’t think I can say anything more complimentary about our church than that.

KATHRYN MARRON - 

JOHN MARKIEWICZ - 

I have been a Christian my whole life. Since I was little, I've attended almost every service of worship on Sunday mornings since I can remember. I've been to potluck dinners, youth groups, breakfasts, all that jazz. But up until the last few years, I never really understood what faith meant to me.

I grew up in Great Hill United Methodist Church, a church about half the size of Brookfield Congregational; so when I came here, I was very overwhelmed. My mom "suggested" we try the bell choir for a week, so we went for 7 more years. I also joined the youth group, which I participated in for 4 years, including a mission trip to Louisiana. Brookfield Congregational also showed me one of the most important places of my life. That was Silver Lake Conference Center.

After 3 years of attendance at Silver Lake as a camper, I decided to apply for Camp Family, a part of staff who does a lot of dishes, and cleans a lot of bathrooms. This may not sound like tons of fun, but I learned how a close-knit community works. All of us on Camp Family learned how to deal with 14 other tired, smelly, and whiny 16 and 17 year olds for 8 straight weeks. We learned about nature and its importance, and how to appreciate God.

This is where my faith journey begins. Up until Silver Lake, I had never thought twice about the presence of God. We all hear stories about being touched by God, and I was just waiting for my turn.

When I arrived at Silver Lake, plenty of the veteran staff members had found their niche, and it actually made me jealous. So after 4 or so weeks of running down a rain-soaked hill, pitch black, and screaming unnecessarily about who knows what, I began to question why I was working at the Lake. We all lived on 6 or less hours of sleep, worked for over 12 hours a day, and dealt with some awful kids. Most of all, our Camp Family members complained about everything, and we all felt like the guy next to us was trying to get away with working less than he should. I don't doubt that 10 out of 15 kids on my Camp Family thought about quitting; I know I did.
But on one early August morning, I woke up to a surprisingly bright sun. That past night, I had been careless and left the door slightly open, so all of the critters would join us in our beds. I was right next to the door, so I got a bed full of ants and spiders. I woke up screaming, but stopped as soon as the sun hit my face. I looked out at the lake, officially named Mudge Pond (you wonder why they call it Silver Lake), and stopped dead in my tracks. It was only 5:30 am, but the sun shined on the lake unlike I had ever seen it before. The birds chirping filled my tired ears. I was so amazed at the beauty that I was offered. I finally began to understand the magic of Silver Lake.

The rest of the summer breezed by fairly quickly, and I came home to parents expecting my room to be cleaned like it had never been before. I guess that happened eventually. But what changed in me was how I saw life. That summer taught me how to look at things, and gave me a lot of the confidence I needed for the rest of my life.

After coming home from Silver Lake, my church life had changed. I became a full time choir member and started to actually listen to and enjoy sermons. I've made many friends in this community, and it's more like a second home to me.

This church has has helped me through these years to find my calling. With bells, choir, and numerous talent shows, I've found ways to express my musical creativity. I've even decided on majoring in music at college at a place called Eastern Nazarene College in Quincy Massachusetts. Yes, it's a Christian college, but I've learned that they're not so scary. I doubt I would have chosen ENC if it didn't have my major, but a small Christian College looks a lot like the community-driven Silver Lake, if you ask me.

So thank you everybody who has helped me, because you know it means a lot to me.