In my house, there’s a vining philodendron. I think it was a gift from my mom sometime around COVID.

That means it’s survived in our home for four or five years — no small feat! I tend to kill plants. I either water them too much or not at all. I put them where they look nice, not necessarily where they’ll actually live.

When I look at that plant, I think of my mom. I love my mom, but I can’t expound too much on that or we’d be here all day. She’s often on our livestream, as are many of you. It’s good to know we’re surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses — some in heaven, some right here on earth, some joining us from Medina or Bethlehem, PA, or wherever. However, you’re connecting, it’s good to know you’re part of this vine, too. Whether it’s on our livestream or podcast or live, wherever you are in space and time, you are welcome here.

That philodendron sits on an old upright piano that’s over a hundred years old now. It has a distinctive sound (and probably needs tuning again). It was a gift from Jack Wilcox, who loved music and sang in the choir. Each of his four children learned to play on that piano, and now both of mine have, too. Sam stuck with it, Eve focused on her French Horn. Jack passed in 2018, but I think of him each time Sam plays, and I wish we’d had more time together as he was a special guy.

Sam and Eve took lessons from Whitney Bixler, who served on my search team. I’ve baptized three of her kids and confirmed two. Big fan of her and her family. She now serves on my Pastoral Relations Board and plays in the bell choir, and I often thank her for helping bring me here.

Her daughter Maggie has gone on three mission trips: Biloxi, Appalachia, and this past summer to Oklahoma to learn from the Cherokee Nation. That’s the work of Pastor Meghan, who does three things here: youth, mission, and youth and mission. She also can preach and is golden on a podcast, among many other great things about her.

Meghan has a philodendron, too. It’s a wild one wrapping around her office window. Elise is watering it while Meghan is on maternity leave. We didn’t hire her because of her taste in plants, but because a few of you, when our last associate pastor took another call, quietly built up a fund to make the next hire possible. You believed in the future, in our teens; and I’m so thankful you did. That’s part of what it means to walk humbly with our God.

Meghan works hard with Stacie. Stacie and her Discipleship Education Leadership Team, also known as the DELTs. They have been hard at work. And it’s because I way overstepped. Let me explain.

When we started searching for the associate position that became Meghan’s, I made a three-year plan. In year three, which would be this year; I thought we’d hire a consultant to help us improve our faith formation. I suggested using Endowment funds to bring in a firm. The DELTs suddenly started acting like the good Congregationalists that they are. They balked and said no.

Now, Congregationalists are two things: thrifty (some might say cheap) but they rightly called me out about the cost: $20,000 to $50,000. The second thing to know is that the Congregationalists are the original DIYers — Do It Yourselfers. The DELTs said, “We’ll do this ourselves!”

And they did. A small team met for nine months and created a program tailor-made for our kids, our staff, and our style. One thing they asked for was a yearlong worship series so they could match curriculum to themes. That request set the Worship Team in motion.

We cooked up a yearlong calendar of worship series that, if I’m being honest, is a little tree-heavy. But so far, so good! We learned about our UCC Roots in September, explored Revelation with Dr. Greg Carey last month, and now we’re telling our own story during stewardship. In the spring, we’ll go back to the tree-theme talking about the Fruits of the Spirit. What do you expect from the church of Harold Thoburn, whose dream of Medina’s tree-lined streets has become a reality! And we’ve been named a Tree City since the mid-80s.

In a sense, I’m trying to “sell you” on this church; not out of pressure, but out of pride. We have a brilliant history: 200 years and counting. In my 8½ years here, I’ve seen this congregation live into its calling with generosity and grit.

We completed our building project and closed the mortgage with “Rev in the Rafters.” (Yes, I slept in the bell tower the night before Thanksgiving 2019 which was windy night, but the best sleep I’d had in years.) I could rest easy knowing this church was vibrant and vital: that we could rise to any challenge and stay connected in amazing ways.

We weathered the pandemic together. We stuck together through livestreams, Zoom studies, doorstep Bible deliveries, and online confirmations. We pulled together.

Around that same time, that philodendron came to live in my house. Funny thing, philodendrons are native to Costa Rica, where our church sends a mission team every February under the leadership of Tammy McGivern, Vicki Miller, and Judy and Kent Daugherty. We’ve built 23 homes there. I went in 2023; Meghan and Logan went last year. Life-changing experiences, everyone.

So why talk about a houseplant? Two reasons.

First: in today’s reading, Jesus says, “I am the vine, you are the branches.” God is the gardener — the one who prunes, tends, and gives life. This is the last of Jesus’ “I am” statements in John, and it’s a powerful image.

Paul, in 1 Corinthians 12, uses the body as a metaphor. In doing so, Paul builds a kind of hierarchy. Jesus doesn’t. In this image, there’s no distinction between branches. No higher or lower, better or worse. All that matters is connection.

The mark of a faithful community, Jesus says, is not in our spiritual gifts or individual talents or list of doctrines, but in how we love. How we stay connected.

And that’s where the philodendron comes back in. Vines aren’t neat plants. They twist, wind, and tangle everywhere. Sometimes you can’t tell one branch from another. It’s a holy mess and that’s exactly what Jesus envisions.

So be a holy, tangled mess. Take piano lessons. Invite someone for coffee, breakfast, or brunch, or Elevenzies, lunch, or happy hour… let’s not forget dinner or supper. I guess I’m on the Hobbit eating plan. Serve on a committee. Go bowling. Watch a movie. Come to Church Free Play on Friday, November 21, from 4–6 p.m. Head out to our upcoming Beer and Hymns night on December 8^th at 7 p.m.!

There’s choir, bells, and just singing. There’s something magic as voices entwine in harmony. That reminds me of Tracy, Cathy, and Jen on the music team. Cindy, our office manager who prints the music right in the bulletins and makes sure the Pilgrim Messenger is sent out with at least one misprint in it that’s my fault. Darlene and Marilyn Koelher coming each and every Thursday to mail those out to keep you informed.

We connect at coffee hour. Have you tried coffee hour? The. Best. We have cheese! You can meet people at the table. The table is my main symbol for Christianity. Jesus was on the cross once, but before and after, he was always at the table. It was at the table at the Last Supper where he shared today’s teaching, ending with a command: “Love one another as I have loved you.” That’s the same command we recall every Maundy Thursday — Maundy from the Latin mandatum, “command.” And that makes me think of my kids, who used to call it “Monday Thursday.” Which makes me think of you.

I’m so glad we found one another. You’ve helped us raise our kids in a community of love with non-toxic theology, without shame or fear. You’ve given them belonging, not privilege. You’ve modeled grace. Thank you. Keep doing that. For them, and for others.

Reach out. Make new connections. Need “grandparents”? I know some. Missing parents or siblings nearby? We can pair you up. I think of families like the Martys, Armbrusts, and Swanteks, whose lives are all beautifully entwined.

During out bicentennial, I remember Eve and Ruby Gabrielsen making a cabin with Pete Benson and Harry Buch. That time spent together is amazing. Intergenerational connection is found here. That’s the point. Our lives are meant to intertwine. Stay connected. That’s lesson number one.

Lesson number two: do you know what philodendron means? It comes from the Greek philo (love, affection) and dendron (tree). Love tree.

So there it is. Our love tree — right here on the square.

Talk about what you love here. You’ll make friends. Stay for coffee hour. We’ve got coffee, snacks, and cheese (have I mentioned the cheese?!)

Keep connected. Entwine yourself here. Reach out. For this thing we’re a part of. Here, no one’s better than another. We are the branches, connected to Christ the vine. God is the attentive gardener who gives us what we need, not always what we want, but always what we need.

Our branches reach out to all people, especially those the church has too often pushed away. Through our ONA, WISE, and A2A covenants, we declare that all who come in good faith are welcome here and fully capable of leadership, regardless of sexual orientation, gender identity, mental health, or ability.

And when we stay connected, look what grows:
families fed,
people visited,
inclusion practiced,
and love made visible.

Thanks be to God. Amen.