Category: Annual Meeting 2021

Total active membership as of 01/01/20			154
Members moved in 2020
	By death	0
	Transfer to inactive	27
	Transfer from inactive to active	2
Total active membership 12/31/20			129
Average weekly attendance	~65

Another year has come to an end, one of unusual change due to Covid 19. As our traditional gatherings had to change, our floral design displays also had to change. I wish to thank all who have sponsored flowers to grace our sanctuary table early in the year and the smaller displays for the online service each Sunday. I have to thank you for giving me the freedom to use my talent and creativity in creating displays for our Sunday meetings online.

Lent and Easter is a special event for floral designs in our church and 2020 was a unique challenge. Although in-person gatherings did not take place in our sanctuary, I chose to continue creating a progressive Meditation Garden for the congregation to enjoy online. Trying to give as much of a sense of normalcy as possible for our Lent and Easter season. The display consisted of a meditation bench, green grass, and meditation fountain. Each Sunday of Lent copper towers with wood, moss, and succulents was added and graced with palms for Palm Sunday. For Easter morning the palms were replaced with fresh flowers.

Our Christmas display focused not on the sanctuary displays of garlands, ribbons, and cones but on a single Advent wreath ending with white roses, lilies, calla lilies, and red berries for Christmas Eve service.

In closing, it has been my pleasure serving you as the Minister of Liturgical Floral Design for the Waterbury Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, and I look forward to another exciting year in the art of Liturgical
Floral Design.

Respectfully submitted,
Ned Davis
Minister of Liturgical Floral Design

New occasions teach new duties;
Time makes ancient good uncouth;         
They must upward still, and onward,
who would keep abreast of Truth;     
Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires!
we ourselves must Pilgrims be,           
Launch our Mayflower,
and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, 
Nor attempt the Future’s portal
with the Past’s blood-rusted key.

James Russell Lowell

I am often asked what I like about doing what I do. Let me count the ways!  But I usually remark that I like being a pastor because the days are almost never the same.  There are new people to meet, new ideas to grapple with, new occasions that demand new duties.  But I never dreamed that one of the new learnings would be running church in the midst of a pandemic.  Together we have managed and I thank all the people who helped me through those first few Sundays.  I especially want to thank Mary Jane and Erik for their willingness to learn new duties too.  They have done so with good humor and their extraordinary level of professionalism and excellence. 

When I despair of our situation, I remind myself that pastors during our last pandemic resorted to publishing their weekly services in their local newspapers while parishioners resorted to meeting in “safe” groups of one or two others.  One thing has not changed though: like one hundred years ago, we have not forgotten to care for one another as we can and to serve those less fortunate.  I am grateful for the continued opportunity on your behalf to help our friends and neighbors who’ve been sick, laid off or outright lost their employment, to provide some financial support which I trust is also translated into a bit of moral support as well.

I know that we are itching to be back together again.  I thank you for your patience, however.  There are several churches in the Vermont Conference that have placed a tremendous amount of pressure on their leaders and on the conference ministers to authorize reopening for face-to-face worship.  And yet, every time that happens they seem to become spreading events.  The latest in Vermont, at a baptist church around Christmas, became a source for over 80 infections. 

And so we carry on. We will not attempt to predict the future, nor open its “portal with the Past’s blood-rusted key.”  The coronavirus, partly no doubt because of our collective indifference to the new duties it teaches, is likely now endemic.  What that will mean for us is still mostly unknown.  Instead of worrying, though, we will do what we are called to do — to be a light of hope and truth to the world, to be a community that delights in each other’s (virtual) presences, to be a community of comfort and solace as well as challenge and disturbance.  In the words of another of Lowell’s famous poems, set in the hymn, “Once to Every Man and Nation,” we acknowledge

The truth alone is strong;
Tho’ her portion be the scaffold,
And upon the throne be wrong:
Yet that scaffold sways the future,
And, behind the dim unknown,
Standeth God within the shadow,
Keeping watch above His own.

To look at my situation in the best light I can, I have occasionally thought of this past year as a jubilation year.  In the old Jewish histories, the priests spoke of a jubilation year occurring after a cycle of sabbatical years, ie., once every 49 years.  It was a period meant to restore the land and to live out of the abundance of our past.  A year of rest and renewal.

Unexpectedly, I have found both of these things.  Obviously, there has been nothing jubilant about it, but the change of pace has been welcome.  As you can see from the list of the special services — I went from performing 13 – 15 such services a year (last year 14) to 3 funerals only this year.  My schedule at church has slowed to a crawl as well,  as very few people pop in and out.  Even my work as the manager of the Good Neighbor Fund has oddly slowed.  I have put in more miles on my road bike this year than in any year since I was in my twenties and it’s been since grad school I’ve read as much.

Like you, I trust, I am soooo ready to get back to worshipping again in person.  I am done with the awkward silences and pesky reminders to “unmute yourself” on Zoom.  I long for the sacred silence of a sanctuary filled with people, humming with a sense of connection and compassion.  I can’t wait to hear the harmonies of beloved voices singing hymns of praise and wonder.  I am ready to have a quiet one-on-one conversation in the back of the sanctuary and to entertain group meetings again in my study.  None of us really know when that will be.  I thank you for your willingness to follow the advice and counsel of the church council on this matter, as you have since our March 14 decision to cancel in-person worship, “at least until Easter(!)” But we will get there.

It would be an incomplete report for the record, if I did not note that despite the extraordinary difficulties of carrying on with collaborative, at-distance work, Polly Sabin, our administrator, Lori Morse our Christian Education director, Mary Jane Austin and Erik Kroncke, our musical leaders have been stalwart, patient, and persevering and oh-so important to our life together.  We would be in a poor state if it were not for you four. Thank you.

I am finish writing this on the evening of January 19, after watching President Elect Joseph Biden memorialize the 400,000 dead from covid this year and honor their families and honor the health-care workers who have tried to save their lives.  It was the first public expression, by the government to lead us in our collective grief. It was a simple, solemn moment.  It evoked tears from the commentators and those who watched.  And . . .and, it was a powerful expression of hope.  A new day will come, dear friends.  

Never doubt for a moment, that even though we are apart from one another — we are still the church and you are individually lights of hope and love to a world deeply wanting more hope, more love, more compassion.

Yours in the ministry of this gospel,
Peter

Following a year of steady growth and good fortune, financial indicators for 2020 held promise for more of the same. That is until the nouvelle coronavirus unleashed its worldwide devastation in late February. Historic daily declines among all major stock indices followed through March leaving many investments at half their in just two months time. This new ‘Bear Market’ period effectively ended the longest economic growth period in US history. However, as states scrambled to put emergency virus response plans into action and with financial assurances from the federal bank by late spring, investors grew more comfortable with the state of the world. This relative calm resulted in a steady, if not miraculous, recovery. Not just out of bear market territory but returning to a new bull market. So confident were investors that even the tumultuous November federal elections and their aftermath could not dissuade investor’s enthusiasm. They were further bolstered by the news of two Covid vaccines that would soon reach the population following their successful respective testing regimens. These world and national market trends have had a direct impact on the Church’s portfolio.

The Church’s investment value on January 1, 2020 stood at $1,102,655.00.  Despite falling by 25% during the Covid panic of March and April, the net of a year’s worth of growth, dividends, and expenses totaled a gain of $120,078.25 (10.8%) resulting in a year-end value of $1,222,733.25. Furthermore, in December, the Church was notified that the estate of Melva Gibson Gage (wife of the late Nathaniel Gage, jr.) had bequeathed to the church the very generous sum of $150,000. The gift came with the simple request that the Gage Family, who had strong ties to the Waterbury community in the early 20^th century, be remembered with the designation of a Gage Family Fund. With this donation the Church’s portfolio had a December 31, 2020 value of $1,372,733.26 (Table 1).

Fund	Prior Balance	Investment Gains plus Income less Expenses	New Balance with Gains
Endowment	$574,253.24	$62,986.24	$637,239.47
Housing	$194,733.04	$20,836.26	$215,569.31
Firm Foundation	$265,994.12	$29,014.63	$295,008.76
Enrichment	$67,674.60	$7,241.12	$74,915.72
Lena and Nathaniel Gage Family Fund		$150,000.00	$150,000.00
Total	$1,102,655.00	$270,078.25	$1,372,733.25