This Sunday is a week of returning.

I am returning to Colonial, excited to be with you again. Looking forward to our time of prayer and reflection.

We will return this Sunday to our reading of the Gospel of John.

In John’s Gospel, Jesus has been out on the road, teaching and healing. On Sunday, he will return to the city of Cana, the place where, a month ago, we heard the story of him turning water into wine, at the urging of his mother. Now, back in Cana, we will hear of another miracle, the healing of a dying son, at the urging of his grieving father.

These miracle stories are stories we return to often in our faith, because they give us hope and inspiration. A wedding is saved! A child is healed! But they are also stories that can be troublesome. These are not the kind of events that happen repeatedly in our own lives. What kind of meaning can they possibly hold for us?

When we return to Church this Sunday, let’s let the stories of these miracles be proclaimed! Let’s let them inspire us! But let’s also dig a bit deeper and ask some questions. When we hear the Gospel of John, what might we understand about who Jesus is for us today and what he wants for our life? Can these ancient, sometimes difficult stories, offer us fresh ways of seeing and being in the world?

I look forward to our returning together this Sunday,

Pastor Heather

This Sunday in worship, we turn to the story of Nicodemus coming to Jesus. It’s a conversation shaped by honest questions, a bit of courage, and the longing to begin again. Jesus speaks of being born anew, of Spirit, breath, and of the mysterious movement of God that cannot be controlled or contained. At the heart of this passage is a powerful promise: God’s response to the world is not about condemnation, but about love, and an invitation to step into the light.

When I was a teenager, I wore one of those “WWJD” - What Would Jesus Do - bracelets on my wrist. It was a reminder to be mindful of how Jesus might respond to whatever circumstances I was facing in my daily life: frustration at school or at home, an argument with a friend or classmate, or a grumpy customer at the sandwich shop where I used to work. In challenging moments, I could stop and ask myself: if Jesus were here… how would he respond?

In many ways, we seem to be living through a cultural and societal inflection point. Every day, we are confronted with new moments that challenge not only our collective humanity, but our capacity to heal from the direction in which we are headed. This Sunday, as we hear the story of Jesus cleansing the Temple - overturning tables and confronting systems that had lost their moral center - we will pause to ask together: what would Jesus do if he were in this trying moment with us? Perhaps we will discover not only what we can do for others, but also what we need for ourselves.

In these days following Christmas, when all the decorations are put away, when the darkness of winter is slowly fading, but yet, it’s still cold and dark outside. These are the days that I like to sit down with a good, challenging book! Something I can really sink my teeth into, something that makes me think.

That’s what we’re doing these days at Colonial - we are cracking open a good, thought-provoking book! Join us this winter as we read through the Gospel of John. It’s a gospel full of miracles and signs that lead us to an understanding of who Jesus is as the Messiah, and the abundance of life that we are being led into as Christians.

This week we will read the first sign (there’s seven in John), the story of the Wedding at Cana. A joyful event that almost went very wrong, for a lack of wine! As we read, I hope it will cause us to wonder. What is Jesus telling us through this first sign? What might we understand about who he is and what he wants for our life? What new ways of seeing and being in the world might we be challenged to?

After the decorations are packed away, the calendar turns, and winter has settled in, Epiphany arrives. It can be tempting to stay home, especially when it’s cold and the holidays feel just behind us. And yet, Epiphany offers us something deeply meaningful: a moment to pause, reflect, and step into what comes next in our lives.

On Epiphany Sunday, we will close our Advent series, “What do you fear?” with a service centered on fearlessly letting go. As the Magi followed the star into unknown territory, they trusted that light would be enough to guide them forward. Epiphany invites us to do the same, to release what no longer serves us and to open ourselves to new possibilities as we move from 2025 into the unfolding promise of 2026.

During worship, we will share in the practice of Star Words. This is an ancient-inspired spiritual tradition, rooted in the story of the star that led the Magi to Christ and shaped by more recent Christian contemplative practice. Rather than making resolutions, you are invited to choose a single word, often surprising, sometimes challenging, that becomes a companion for the year ahead. Many people return to their word throughout the year and discover that it continues to unfold meaning in unexpected ways.

This Epiphany, I invite you to brave the cold, step out of the post-holiday haze, and join us for a service grounded in hope, courage, and trust. Come help us close one season and open another. Come let go of what you no longer need to car

Well, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...but not yet! At church this week we're in the Fourth Sunday of Advent, and we continue with our theme, “What do you fear?” by turning to the story of Joseph, the quiet, courageous figure who stepped forward as Jesus’ adopted father. Scripture tells us little about Joseph’s inner life, but we can imagine the fear, uncertainty, and questions he carried. And yet, when the moment came, Joseph chose presence over paralysis and love over fear. His story invites us to reflect on the fears we carry and what it might look like to step forward anyway.

This week we continue our Advent journey with Mary’s courageous “yes” in Luke 1:26–39, a yes spoken into a world that felt as fragile then as it does now. Mary’s response to God was not naïve or easy; it was an act of deep trust and brave hope. And it invites us to consider our own "yes": the one we’re longing to say, the one that feels costly, and the one that becomes possible only with our community around us. These days are tough, globally, nationally, personally, and yet Advent reminds us that God’s light still seeks to take flesh in ordinary people, just as it did in Mary. Join us as we reflect on how courage grows, how hope takes root, and how we can say yes to God’s unfolding love even when the world feels uncertain.

Then, come back at 4:00 p.m. for our Christmas Concert, featuring beautiful seasonal music to nourish your spirit and deepen your sense of wonder in this holy season. This is a wonderful opportunity to invite friends, family, and neighbors to experience the hope and joy of Advent with you.

Our theme throughout Advent asks the question, “Whom Do You Fear?” In Lamentations, the writer says:

I called on your name, Lord,

from the depths of the pit.

You heard my plea: “Do not close your ears

to my cry for relief.”

You came near when I called you,

and you said, “Do not fear.” (Lamentations 3:55-57, NIV)

Our scripture for today’s sermon comes from Luke, Chapter 1, verses 5-13:

During the rule of King Herod of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah who belonged to the priestly division of Abijah. His wife Elizabeth was a descendant of Aaron. They were both righteous before God, blameless in their observance of all the Lord’s commandments and regulations. They had no children because Elizabeth was unable to become pregnant and they both were very old. One day Zechariah was serving as a priest before God because his priestly division was on duty. Following the customs of priestly service, he was chosen by lottery to go into the Lord’s sanctuary and burn incense. All the people who gathered to worship were praying outside during this hour of incense offering. An angel from the Lord appeared to him, standing to the right of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw the angel, he was startled and overcome with fear.

The angel said, “Don’t be afraid, Zechariah. Your prayers have been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will give birth to your son and you must name him John.

This Sunday at Colonial Church we gather for a joyful and meaningful morning as we bring our pledge season to a close. Throughout these past weeks, we’ve reflected on how our giving makes meaning, and how each commitment helps shape the vibrant, compassionate community God is calling us to be. We’ll celebrate that spirit of generosity in worship as we offer our pledge cards and give thanks for all the ways this congregation continues to grow in faith and service.

After worship, we’ll gather for our annual Thanksgiving feast! It’s a chance to enjoy good food, good company, and the simple joy of being together. In a world where connection can be hard to find, the church is a place where we can show up as we are, find belonging, and share a little hope (and dessert) with each other.

We hope you’ll join us this Sunday as we worship, give thanks, and delight in being part of this church family.

When we hear “For unto us a child is born…” most of us immediately think of Christmas pageants, candlelight services, and holiday music. But these words from Isaiah were first spoken into a world that was far from peaceful. It was a word of hope given to people living through political turmoil, social upheaval, and deep uncertainty. It was not simply a promise about someday, it was a word of courage for their own weary hearts right then.

We know something about weary hearts ourselves. Our world, too, trembles with anxiety and division. We, too, long for light to break into the dark places.

This Sunday, we will listen to Isaiah’s ancient promise with fresh ears. What does it mean for us that “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light?” How does God speak peace in a world on edge? How do we carry hope that is more than wishful thinking?

Come join us for worship this week as we explore Isaiah 9 not as a Christmas memory, but as a living word for a world hungry for peace.