From the Northwest Corner of
517 9th Avenue West
May 2024
There was a sailor aboard an aircraft carrier, his rating, job classification, was PR3, Parachute Rigger 3rd class. Today they are called Aircrew Survival Equipmentman – rolls right off the tongue. His problem was narcolepsy, a neurological disorder brought on by many causes, among them stress. The poor guy was falling asleep during the day, during his watches, while he was maintaining and rigging parachutes, while he was eating; he was transferred off his carrier and ended up on our psychiatry ward at the Philadelphia Naval Hospital; after some treatment and medication, he was medically discharged. The Navy pilots didn’t want a sleepy chute rigger.
On the Interweb, parachutes can be bought for as little as $300 and easily run up to $1,500 and more. There were some that were being sold as used. Not sure I’d want to make that purchase. I looked to see how many owners and why was it for sale – no luck.
There are parachute jokes: For sale: parachute. Opens on impact. Huh? The other one is: if at first you don’t succeed – skydiving is not for you. There is the cliché, parachutes are like minds – they work best when open.
Sometimes we come at prayer as if it is a parachute. Whatever delusion, plan, occupation, relationship, sketchy undertaking, downright stupid idea we were flying in is losing altitude. And on fire. And pointed straight down. So we pray. A lot and fervently and rapidly and angrily and tearfully.
Psalm 54: Save me, O God, by your name, and vindicate me by your might.
Psalm 109: Help me, O Lord my God! Save me according to your steadfast love!
Psalm 7: O Lord my God, in you I take refuge; . . . deliver me,
Psalm 145 The Lord upholds all who are falling . . .
Psalm 71.2: In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me; incline your ear to me and save me.
At this point, prayer is not that different from the parachute that opens on impact. God is not a cosmic rabbit’s foot. Not that often, anyway. We should have been praying earlier. We should have been praying much earlier.
We should be thinking of prayer not as a parachute or brakes but as a steering wheel. Or.
Think of prayer as GPS – God’s Positioning System. It is always on, it is on our dashboard, it is in plain sight and we keep an eye on it. We listen to the voice that comes with it. And do what it says: “turn left, go right, STOP, back up, start over, exit the vehicle and go home. Without GPS we get lost.
The GPS may also say, You’re doing fine. Keep going. Have faith. Yes, it’s uphill, be strong.
Pray for everything. Pray about everything. There is nothing too trivial. Prayer doesn’t have to be eloquent – God is not an English major. God is busy, yes, but God is also infinite. God loves to hear from you. God also loves it when you listen too. Prayers of thanksgiving are also always welcome - it keeps the whining down. God does not get tired of you. At all. Ever.
From I Thessalonians 5: 16Rejoice always, 17pray without ceasing, 18give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 19Do not quench the Spirit. 20Do not despise the words of prophets,* 21but test everything; hold fast to what is good; 22abstain from every form of evil. 23 May the God of peace himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept sound* and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. 24The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do this. 25 Beloved, pray for us. . . . For everyone and everything everywhere every time.
Think of praying as breathing in the name of God. Or floating in the name of God.
Floating.
Like
in a
parachute.
From the Northwest Corner of
517 9th Avenue West
March 2024
We were using 2x4’s from a lumber yard where you can always save big money. Some were true, while others looked as if they’d escaped an archery range. The foreman said we had to use them. One of the 2x4’s we forced into alignment by pulling from the other side of the foundation with a chain and come-along. When we got it lined up, we drilled holes through it into the foundation and drove in big bolts. The foreman ran the chain through a tire so that if the chain snapped it would catch in the tire and not swing about wildly and fatally.
Prayer is like that come-along. It brings us into alignment, trues us up, with God and God’s will for us. It is drastically short-sighted to perceive prayer as only a wish list delivered to God. There is far more. And as the come-along analogy implies there is always a tension.
If we stop talking and instead listen we then here – from God – from the still small voice, from the Holy Spirit what we should be doing and where we should be and where we should be going. That’s how we get into alignment. We are the ones who move – not God. Yes, God answers prayer. God never doesn’t answer; God always hears.
But after presenting our list of petitions, wishes, (note the Oxford comma) and worries we must then wait, watch,(again the OC) and listen. For as long as it takes.
God does not do immediate, that would be Amazon. God asks for faith; Amazon asks for your credit card. There is a difference: one has grace, one doesn’t.
During what remains of this season of Lent try listening to yourself to hear any groaning and creaking as you are drawn into alignment. There may be some pain involved, some psychic discomfort, some emotional work. But that’s part of being a child of God. It’s in our Affirmation of Baptism vows somewhere. The Kingdom of God isn’t always Disney Land or being four and falling asleep in your Grandfather’s lap on Christmas morning.
But we always, always loved and heard and never, never forgotten unanswered.
That’s the tension. That’s the tug.
It calls us back to be true. Calls us into aLignmENT.
From the Northwest Corner
of 517 9th Avenue West
October 2023
Bridge builders build their bridges to stay in one place, especially the pier anchorages at either end, the Golden Gate Bridge used more than a million tons of cement in its pier anchorages. Piers are the structures that carry the weight of the bridge. They can’t be moving. Roads aren’t supposed to move, buildings are supposed to stay in one place. It’s just a good thing, a fact of life we count on: immovable objects.
What about a church building? Obviously, it has to be immovable. What about the congregation? Does it move? if so, where? Does it grow? Does it change over time? Sure, it does. Or it perishes.
A congregation is people – people of faith. People of faith change. We oxidize, get old, move, fail at some enterprises, succeed at others. We change jobs, calcify, have epiphanies, we get cranky, we get peaceful, wander off or wander in; we experience great crippling grief and also great shouting joy. By definition, congregations are dynamic, constantly changing, constantly active. The change and activity may be subtle or obvious or anything in between.
A congregation cannot spiritually stay in one place. It has to be flexible, it has to be movable. At high tide the Golden Gate Bridge withstands a flow of 2.3 billion ft.3 of water per second (Is Google fun or what?! How did pastors write before the internet? Thanks, Al Gore!) it cannot be movable. A congregation, on the other hand, does have to change with the ebb and flow of cultural tides.
But we also remember, in the midst of our human and cultural dynamism, that we belong to the divine God. We gather in the immovable building to worship a living God, offer our sacrifices, offer our praises, hear our call in God’s word and be reminded, in Holy Communion, that we are forgiven.
Psalm 77
I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, that he may hear me. In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night
my hand is stretched out without wearying;
my soul refuses to be comforted.
I think of God, and I moan;
I meditate, and my spirit faints.
You keep my eyelids from closing;
I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
I consider the days of old,
and remember the years of long ago.
I commune with my heart in the night; I meditate and search my spirit: ‘Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable?
Has his steadfast love ceased for ever? Are his promises at an end for all time?
Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in anger shut up his compassion?’
And I say, ‘It is my grief that the right hand of the Most High has changed.’
I will call to mind the deeds of the Lord;
I will remember your wonders of old.
I will meditate on all your work, and muse on your mighty deeds.
Your way, O God, is holy.
What god is so great as our God?
You are the God who works wonders;
I will remember who built this church. I will remember the people who first gathered in faith to find space and money and contractors and more faith and more money to build Saron. I will meditate on what they thought and prayed around someone’s kitchen table. Did they really have in mind that the Saron congregation would become a fixed quantity?
We don’t know. The rhetorical question above is manipulative; I want to inspire guilt. OK, kidding.
On the other hand, what did the Holy Spirit have in mind when it both prompted and answered those Saron-start-up kitchen table prayers all those years ago? A solid building? Sure. And a movable congregation? Yeah, probably. Probably.
Certainly our eyelids have been kept from closing by all the conflict these days. We cry aloud to God, we stretch out our hands, our souls could use some comfort, our spirits faint.
Remember who built this building, remember who started this congregation. We are part of their history, they are part of ours. Together we are all part of God’s history; we are all part of God’s present. We are all part of God’s future.
We belong to a God who works wonders.
Gonna Lay Down My Sword and Shield
Dear Saron Sisters and Brothers in Christ: June 16th of 2024 will be my last Sunday serving as your pastor. I will be retiring from active ELCA Ministry of Word and Sacrament.
I will be 71 years old. Although I still feel young at heart, I am relatively certain my Spring Chicken days are over; I haven’t been bullet proof for quite some time now. Unlike some members of Congress, I realize it is time to step down. It is time for The New, time for the Young. I started here New Years Day of 2009: 14 years in one call is plenty, retiring or not. Martin Luther’s First Law of Ecclesiology states: Pastors come and go; congregations remain. His Second Law of Ecclesiology states: Rotate your pastors before they and their congregations become too comfortable with each other. The Third Law states: Fire up the coffee pot. These are Ecclesial – churchly – laws.
However, it cannot go unspoken or unwritten that, Luther’s main Law of Faith was the Gospel Paradox: God loves you – regardless. This is delineated in John 3: 16, 17 and Romans 5: 8-10 and again in Ephesians 2: 8-10; and many, many other Biblical locations.
I have not kept this retirement a secret, but neither I have a made a formal declaration until now. Sunday, August 27th, at the beginning of worship, I announced before the congregation that I would be retiring June 16, 2024. I now do the same here in the Saron Newsletter for all to see everywhere.
I make this announcement this far in advance in hopes and prayer that there will be sufficient time for the Holy Spirit to work in meetings and conversations and negotiations, formal and otherwise, so that Saron and Good Shepherd can work their way into sharing a pastor. This is not a done deal but ground work is being laid. Pastor Sieja and I have been talking to each other; council presidents Cheryl Klobucher and Nancy Brede have also been talking. Over the coming months, the executive councils and councils of the whole, of both congregations, will be meeting in attempt to hammer out finance and logistics. I hasten to add this is not in any way a merger. Good Shepherd and Saron will remain separate entities but share a pastor.
Congregations sharing pastors is now far more common and no longer the exception; and not just in the ELCA. It makes little sense that small congregations try to manage the salary burden of a full-time pastor. Good Shepherd and Saron are small congregations.
By ourselves, our witness is fragmented. The two congregations partnered (yoked is another term) together can develop a stronger, more energetic, more vital witness and ministry for our children and for our communities.
Survival on our own is not necessarily an achievement.
Flourishing together is.
In Christ,
Pastor Paul Simmons
From the Northwest Corner of
517 9th Avenue West
October 2022
Rhythm: a strong, regular, repeated pattern of movement or sound. Rhythm can be detected or sensed in many situations in life. Music certainly, but over the course of the day there is a rhythm. Sports commentators talk about a quarterback and his offense or a pitcher getting into a rhythm and gaining momentum in completions and strikeouts. Kneading bread, vacuuming, sewing, rowing, mowing (lawn), correcting papers, preaching (when a good ol’ fashioned revivalist gets rolling – “Can I HUH get an Amen HUH! The word God, just three little letters, can have many syllables and lotsa rhythm.) Running, cycling all occur with less effort and more efficiency when there is a rhythm.
With rising and getting ready for the day there is a rhythm not just that morning but through the week. At work there is a rhythm to the day’s events and requirements over a single day and over a week. It’s called a schedule – but isn’t a schedule just a slow rhythm?
There is something in us that simply responds to a beat. Because we are beating: it’s our heart. Our lungs also have to be in a rhythm. Soldiers have gone to war and into battle marching to a drum, parade bands need a drum section. I catch myself tapping my foot to the grocery store music. There are hymns that cry out for a polka step! Rhythm drives us. It cannot not drive us.
Does God have a rhythm in your life? Does God drive your life with a beat no matter how fast or slow, no matter how loud or how soft?
As you go through your day, how many things are you sensing, feeling, hearing, seeing? Do they have a rhythm? Does your life have a beat? If so, is it God? And certainly you can say yes, I am fearfully and wonderfully made. My heart and lungs have a rhythm. The heart at between 60 – 80 bpm; the lungs in the 12 – 20 respirations per minute. I may not always be fully aware of them – but I will know when they stop.
Are there other rhythms driving you? Is God at work in them? Can God be at work in them? Should God be at work in them? Is your life mechanical or musical? Are you dancing, marching – or just . . . shambling . . . da doot da doo da doo . . . along?
The Kingdom of God and experiences in church during worship are meant, among other zillions of things, to be sensual. The incense, the music, wine, bread, flowers, anointing oil, ashes, chanting, even silence are all there to have an impact so that God is more than just in our head and heart. The sensation of God can be in our nostrils, on our tongue, in our gullet, on our skin, in our throats when we sing.
Take in all there is to take in of Jesus, of God’s word, of the Holy Spirit right when and where you are. Do you perceive a beat? Do you perceive a rhythm?
Granted there is the constant beat of disaster and doom in the media – a bass drum and a rattling snare. Ignore it. Don’t let it drive you.
Instead, listen for, feel for, the rhythm of the Spirit in your body, in the day, the week, the month, the year. In your life. Move your spiritual hips.
Read the Bible down by the lake shore, listen to the rhythm of the waves. Read the Bible outside as the sun sets – rhythm slows. Read the Bible outside as the sun rises, especially the Easter texts – rhythm picks up. Read the Bible, Genesis 1, in the trees on a windy day. Read the Bible in a thunderstorm. Read the Bible as a baby is crying; or asleep on your chest. Read the Bible in absolute silence; or in the stands during the chaos of a football game. Read the Bible in a hospital lobby; read the Nativity story in a barn. Try to pick up the beat.
It is God. Let yourself be driven.
You may have to let go of some things. You may have to dance.
OBLIGATORY YET NECESSARY STEWARDSHIP PARAGRAPH
If there is a rhythm to your giving it goes better than when it is sporadic.
$50 at Christmas and $50 at Easter feels big.
But $20 every Sunday is more and easier – it’s $1,040 – easy like ringin’ a bell.
It adds another steady beat to your relationship with God.
This rhythm is the beat of a life lived in worship and trust. Not a bad thing.
This rhythm does not go unnoticed by God.
Again, be ready to be taken out on the dance floor.
And remember: It is never to late to start. It is never too late to start over.
From the Northwest Corner
of 517 9th Avenue West
March 2022
The snow began ever so lightly on the afternoon of the 21st, a Monday. Then came the wind and more wind; along with more snow. And more snow. Tuesday the 22nd of February was a snow day for the upper third of Wisconsin and Minnesota. In the early morning of Wednesday, the 23rd, the snow ended and the stars came out. When daylight came, we all started shoveling, blowing, blading and plowing out. Get the snow out of the way and let’s get moving again.
The snow was in the way! We couldn’t drive, we couldn’t walk and we had appointments and things to buy at stores and breakfast and lunch dates. At the very least we had to get out of the house. Netflix can only do so much.
The beautiful white, silencing, purifying, peaceful, muffling, wind-sculpted, softening snow was nice. And beautiful. And poetic. But not now. Get it out of the way.
It is Lent. A season of contemplation and repention repenting, of self-examination and renewing spiritual disciplines. A season of getting stuff out of the way so you can move around in your life and get where you (and your family and those you love – and God) need to be emotionally and spiritually.
Getting stuff out of your way, just like snow removal, takes time and energy. The stuff in question is not so much sin, as it is plain and simple you. It is what you do without thinking (usually) that keeps you away from God. It is what you don’t do that stretches the distance between you and God.
The time and energy involved is the time it takes to sit and be silent; the time it takes to read and contemplate (chew on) a Biblical passage – say Psalm 51 or Psalm 139. The energy involved is spent in frank and honest self-examination. Did I really ___? Is that what happens when I ___? What was I thinking when ___? Why do I keep doing ___? Y’know a little self -control wouldn’t kill me. I could’ve asked God here___ and here ___ and should’ve really asked God here ___. Yikes! O God, have mercy on me, a sinner!
Lent is not about what you give up. It is about the subtle turns you make to change direction away from bad things – repentance; and towards good things – righteousness. It’s not what you give up – it’s what you leave behind because it is dead weight – because it is in your way, like 28” of snow which is no longer quaint and pretty.
For the next five or six Sundays you are invited to take the shovel of repentance and move the drifts and piles of sin out of your way so you can make a path and walk to (access) God and God’s free forgiveness, righteousness, call and vision and purpose, and joy.
Joy. And Peace
Wouldn’t some joy be nice? With a side of Peace?
Do the Lenty thing.
See you in worship! Bring the kids!
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
“… chart and compass come from thee …”
October 2021
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
“… chart and compass come from thee …”
September 2021
In her later years my mother broke her hip. She deeply resented this event not because of the pain or hospitalization, but because it was a threat to her mobility. She refused to be bound by a walker or cane; and do not even try to take her car keys. With a little bit of pride – and relief – she related how her orthopedist told her he’d found purchase in her femur for the screw he inserted to hold the two broken segments together. Purchase. The threads of the screw bit and held – found purchase – in her femur. Mom healed up rapidly and was quite mobile up until the last few months of her life. She was indeed blessed with determination and healing. And a solid femur. So the screw could find purchase. If screws, nails even, don’t find purchase hips - and everything else in the world - fall apart.
When the screw finds purchase it holds solid and secure. No doubt, many a DIYer has had to work with screws and holes and trying to fasten something to something else and not being able to gain purchase.
But in terms of people, in terms of relationships, how many people have found purchase in you? How solid are you? And with how many people have you found purchase? Are they solid enough for you? Sure – spouses, children; parents, grandparents, close friends.
Has God found purchase in you? Has the Holy Spirit screwed itself into you fastening you to God, tying you into God’s will? Have you found purchase in God? In your relationship with God, in your Christian fellowship, your conversations of faith, have you found purchase for your soul? Are there people and ideas, church groups, let alone a congregation, where you can get yourself screwed in? Are there places where you feel solid and secure – and safe – in widening and deepening your faith? Have you and your pastor found purchase with each other? Have you tried drilling a pilot hole or two? A pilot hole (this sentence is not a rhetorical question – what a relief!) is a hole smaller than the screw into which the screw is then driven to avoid splintering the wood. Avoiding getting the screw forever stuck, spraining your wrist and melting your drill.
More rhetorical questions designed NOT TO INSTILL GUILT but examination of the situation. Within the church are there people who don’t find purchase because they don’t fit the usual male female model? Are there people who don’t find purchase because they are indeed people of color? Are there people who bounce off instead of being welcomed – not finding purchase, not getting screwed in – because they just don’t look like us northern European types? Yeah; maybe; sure; I s’pose; probably; I dunno; what was the question?
Same questions again, in case you actually bought the not instilling guilt caps: are there people who just don’t find purchase in our country? Because they refuse to let us fit them into categories and stereotypes that keep us comfortable?
Is there a place? A calling? A holy duty for the church – for Christians – to be drilling pilot holes all over, anywhere and at random? From Deuteronomy 10:
17For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, … 18who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and who loves the strangers, providing them with food and clothing. 19You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.
It’s time for us to go get some drills and look for purchase. Or just be: a pilot hole.
After all, we were purchased when the nails found purchase.
The stone over the tomb, however, did not. Find purchase.
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
“… chart and compass come from thee …”
There is always the part in a movie, usually near the denouement, when one or both of the stars says, ”I never realized….” And it continues, “… never realized you were my daughter, loved me, were a man, were a woman (a favorite device of Shakespeare), never realized you were rich, dirt poor, a Vikings fan….” going on ad nauseam. The drama is centered around one or more people not knowing – realizing – some huge almost obvious fact central to the plot.
Something was unknown that should have been made known. Something was unknown, which if known or exposed or declared, would have made lives much better and freer. The end of the scene beginning with, ”I never realized,” usually ends with and incredulous, “Why didn’t you tell me?” or the excruciating, “If only I’d known!” Fade to black. Roll credits. Insert gag reel.
The word realize is not limited to simply knowing. It can have tangible dimensions to its definition. As in
an older use or definition “ . . . the investors realized a profit of nearly 30% on the their lint farm.” The actual definition is: give actual or physical form to. As in "the stage designs have been beautifully realized." Almost as if realizing means fulfilling. Yet another definition (don’t failed English majors just give you a royal pain!?) is to cause something desired or anticipated to happen. e.g. "his worst fears have been realized."
Or you can try it like this. Make a substitution: John 1: 1-5 1In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with realized God, and the Word was a realized God. 2He was in the beginning with God. 3All things came into being were realized through him, and without him not one thing came into being was realized. What has come into being been realized 4in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. Farther on down John 1 is verse 14: And the Word became flesh was realized and lived among us, and we have seen realized his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son realized full of grace and truth.
Dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ, dear Gentle Reader, it is our calling to realize Christ so Christ can be realized by the world. We, through Baptism, are called to do the realizing. We are called to make Christ realizable. Visible. Perceptible. In lives of servanthood, a generous spirit, and words. We are called to give actual physical form to Christ – as we are called, gathered and enlightened by the Holy Spirit. It’s fairly simple. All you have to do is submit. Piece of cake. Or communion bread.
So maybe that is the question or two for July. Has Jesus been realized for you at any time? Have you realized Jesus for anyone at some time? I’d bet maybe you have. Don’t feel guilty with these July questions. They are to make you wonder. To make you watch and listen. To yourselves and others. Don’t underestimate where God is and how God chooses to act and how subtle or obvious the act may be. Be ready to realize. Be ready to be realized – as part of the body of Christ - or as we church pros say, The BoC.
Realize: To see, to perceive; and then to give form to.
A life. A body. You. All of us.
Jesus.
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
“… chart and compass come from thee …”
April 2021
In the musical West Side Story, Tony (Richard Beymer), realizes he is head over heels stupid in love with Maria (Natalie Wood). He is so in love even her name sends him into paroxysms of singing. “The most beautiful word I’ll ever hear . . . Maria, Maria etc. etc.,” he sings his solo. Richard’s career didn’t quite take off; Natalie’s did. Irrelevant.
What are the most beautiful words in the Bible? In the Old Testament? New Testament? Certainly there is John 3: 16, 17 or Ephesians 2: 8 - 10. Maybe the beginning of Luke’s nativity story, ”In those days a decree went out . . .”
But when life starts coming at you fast and thick, whether it be personal or family tragedies or watching rioting on the news, what verses offer you strength and promise? On what passage can you hook your little finger and hang on?
How about the most beautiful words we’ll ever hear in Luke 24:5? “They were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, he is risen.’”
Why do you look for the living among the dead? Do we take it for granted that our savior rose from the dead? Do we just assume that it’s the usual Happy Ending, the dénouement, that comes after scary and fatal Rising Action on the Cross?
Back up a little, do we take for granted the love of God? God reveals himself to us and we say, “Well, sure! That’s Christmas! The reason for the season. D’you like eggnog?” We forget that Jesus was born to die on the Cross. It was God coming into our midst in human form. To be sacrificed for our sin. To reconcile the cosmic conflict between Creator and Created; between human and Divine; between pure and impure.
We take too lightly that Jesus was stone cold dead when Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus took him off the cross, then hauled him to the tomb. Think, for a moment, on getting a dead person down from a cross to which they have been nailed. Feet first; or arms first, then flop forward, still hanging by the feet? How difficult was it to get the nails – spikes probably – out? Using what tool? Maybe they took the cross down first; big, bulky and heavy. Entirely droppable. Maybe the guards helped – yeah, right. We read the words too easily. We consider the finality too lightly.
The man, Jesus, God incarnate, present at Creation, had no heartbeat, no brain activity, no warmth when he was laid to rest with seventy-five pounds of myrrh and aloes. Rigor mortis probably hadn’t set in yet.
For Joseph and Nicodemus it must have been utter and complete heartbreak and despair. For Mary Magdalene and Mary mother of Joses, the weeping was uncontrollable; no doubt, Joseph and Nicodemus wept also. Jesus was silent and still and cold. Hope was absent. Their world had come to an end. Dreaming a happy ending would be foolishness; an insult.
However. The story takes a 90ᵒ turn.
In Mark’s gospel, Mary Magdalene, Mary Mother of Joses, and Salome go to the tomb to anoint Jesus. They know he’s dead. They know they won’t be able to roll the stone away. But they can’t not go. Jesus was dead, they loved him, they can’t just sit. It’s been three days.
They arrive. In Mark, there’s an angel sitting there telling them Jesus is raised and gone.
In Luke, are the most beautiful words, the question, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”
Again, the words are too simple. Jesus has been raised. He’s not here. You are looking in the wrong place.
His heart started pumping again. Blood began carrying oxygen to his brain, muscles and organs. Jesus had been in hell, with the dead. The sights, sounds and smells: unimaginable. This visualization or imagining doesn’t even begin to do justice, to accurately portray what actually happened.
However.
God is what happened. Power over death, biochemical or otherwise. Probably the otherwise, probably the same breath of God that brought Adam and Eve to life brought Jesus back to life; called him back from death.
It wasn’t resuscitation. It was resurrection. Death rendered powerless – real but powerless.
This whole story in Mark or Luke or Matthew or John is about two things: Jesus dying – our forgiveness. And Jesus rising again – our promise of eternal life with our Creator who does indeed have power over death.
And by the grace of God who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, pause for emphasis, it is our story too.
Yours. Mine. The World’s. It is our Story to live out; it is our Story to tell again and again.
It is Easter. We are Easter people. Resurrection people. Die and rise again people. Feast and dance people.
We do not have to look for the living among the dead.
We listen for the rhythm of Joy, the rhythm of God, and we dance.
And There were no Easter Bunnies present. They are unclean.
Deuteronomy 14.7:
Yet of those that chew the cud or have the hoof cloven you shall not eat these: the camel, the hare, and the rock-badger, because they chew the cud but do not divide the hoof; they are unclean for you.
And they don’t lay eggs; they’re mammals.
Stop chasing bunnies. Come to the Feast.
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
“… chart and compass come from thee …”
March 2021
Once upon a time there was a man going on a cross-country trip. It had been a long trip so far with no end in sight; with the man were his wife and three daughters. And it was February. Why he had undertaken this journey with family was pretty much a mystery; it was part of a larger plan, a vision. His wife and daughters had serious doubts, but he was the Man of the House and he had Decided. So there they were. In Montana. In the Winter.
In Montana in the winter one must have a fully functional vehicle; especially if going from one end of the state to the other. Their vehicle was an AMC Pacer; 100,000 miles ago it was a fully functional vehicle; 75,000 miles ago the tires weren’t bald; 80,000 miles ago it started leaving a trail of blue oily smoke.
In the middle of nowhere the Pacer did indeed become fully non-functional. Steam was coming out in front, black smoke from underneath. They evacuated the vehicle, standing on the opposite side of the two-lane road. It was a bright, cold, windy day. Mother and daughters huddled together in coats that were too light under a blanket that was too old, too small. They were shivering with cold and desperation; any hope for anything good had long since disappeared. It was cold. It was looking more and more hopeless. It was so cold.
The Man was tinkering under the hood with he knew not what. They had not seen another vehicle for three hours; they hadn’t seen another anything for three hours. The smoke was getting blacker and starting to fill the interior.
Along came salvation. A big pickup towing a horse trailer pulled up, out dashed the driver, grabbing a fire extinguisher from the trailer. She sprayed with authority, the smoke stopped; the steam fizzled out on its own accord. The driver set down the extinguisher, put her arm around the four huddled females and ushered them into her pickup – a Ford F-350 crew cab, Diesel, 6.7 liters, duals, chrome, lots. The rattle of its idle mocked the silent Pacer. Inside, mother and daughters were overcome with warmth and rescue. They wept in relief, their noses ran; feeling began to return to their fingers and toes.
The pickup driver began transferring what little luggage there was from the Pacer to the horse trailer. The man continued to work under the hood because he didn’t know what else to do; he was studiously avoiding the driver’s activities. Finally he stood up and attempted eye contact, “Well, thank you so much, but I think we can handle it from here. I’ll get the car running here in a bit and my wife and daughters and I can get on to the next town. So, ah … thank you very much.” He walked to the trailer to retrieve the luggage.
The driver was incredulous, “You’ve got nothing to fix. It was on fire, for heaven’s sake. You’ll need parts and water and anti-freeze. Do you even have tools? Duct tape and a screw driver aren’t going to cut it. It’s getting colder and darker and you look frozen too. Don’t be a such a donkey! Let’s go. C’mon!”
Struck by the donkey epithet, he stepped back. “No, no. Really. You can go. Again, thank you. So much. We’ll get it into town …”
She cut him off, “The nearest town in 110 miles away, and it’s not open. You and your family will die. Because you’re proud or stupid or both. Now, let’s go.”
The Man hesitated; then went to the pickup to get his wife and daughters back with him. He beckoned to them.
The driver, a ranchwoman, stood between the man and his family thinking she could at least save them. His stubbornness was utterly, blindingly senseless.
She was going to give it one last try, “Come with me,” she pleaded, “I’ve got a great big movie-money ranch. I will put you up in my guesthouse – it has many rooms. You can stay there for as long as you need, as long as you want. No charge. I’ll give you one of the ranch vehicles. You can come and go as you please. You can eat at the main lodge or by yourselves. Groceries and gas on me. And you’ll owe me nothing. You don’t have any money and I’ve got more than I know what do with. I’m between movies now. I fly to Hollywood and get paid obscene amounts of money because they make me beautiful and witty. Let me do this for you! Let me … save … you.” She didn’t want to beg, didn’t want to preach, was almost in tears, almost ready to kick him in the backside.
Silence, a lame conciliatory smile and a head shake. “No. I can’t let you do that. We’ll be OK; we’ll get by. Again, I want to thank you.” Over her shoulder he beckoned again to his family. They did not move; the daughters were asleep on each others’ shoulders.
His wife got out and came to him. She wiped her nose and hissed, “What is wrong with you? Get in the pickup with us and leave this stupid dead car behind. You can’t fix it and you know it. You’re too proud to accept help? This woman is offering us everything. Everything! And you can’t let someone save you? Rescue us?” She paused, biting her lip. “We’re leaving with her. Whether you come along is up to you. And, if you stay here,” her nostrils flared, her eye’s hardened, “that’s fine with me. Just fine. We’ve had enough.” She didn’t blink.
He said nothing. He knew somehow he could make the car go and he didn’t want to be beholden to someone. She tried to take his hand, he didn’t respond. She turned on her heel and got back in the pickup in front. The ranchwoman was waiting behind the wheel; the man’s wife closed the door and said go. The driver did not hesitate. They departed.
The man, whose name was Tom, stood there, then walked around to the other side of the car. The windshield was all sooty on the inside. Tom’s wife watched him shrink and disappear in the Ford’s big passenger side mirror. Her eyes grew heavy and her sight grew dim. She slept.
There was man stuck in sin; afraid to repent. His sin was all he knew. Even as grace stared him in the face and called out with salvation he couldn’t move; couldn’t leave his wreck behind. He could not repent. Could not change his mind. He died figuratively and maybe even literally.
Lent is underway. It is forty days of hearing, learning and digesting the fact that repentance is possible and necessary. We all sense, in some way, that it is necessary, and we keep that thought comfortably at arm’s length.
But do we think it’s possible? Can we think of it as a possibility? Do we see it as a desirable measurable goal to be achieved with cogent strategies employing simple steps?
It takes a bit of meditation. Serious meditation. A life or two may well hang in the balance. For real. You may not die. But part of you might. And what about those you love?
The prophet Joel wrote:
Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful; Slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love;
Return to the Lord.
You can’t fix it. Leave it.
He is gracious and merciful.
Get in and thaw out.
Slow to anger.
You stay outside, you freeze to death.
And abounding in steadfast love.
Everything she has is yours.
Pride never saved anyone.
Let God do that.
Get in.
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
“… chart and compass come from thee …”
On a mission trip in Minneapolis my group of kids and I ended up playing with a large group of children. Their parents were out looking for jobs or working – or missing. We were the activity crew for a large day-care. It was great fun; demanding; rewarding. At one point a young girl came up to me and told me I had to sit down. She took me by the hand – firmly – led me to a chair. With a bit of a shove sat me down. “OK, I’ll play along,” I thought. She then crawled up in my lap and sat down, got herself situated and said, “You have to hold me.” I put my arms around her as questions of appropriateness danced in my head like fevered sugar plums. Several times early on I tried, “OK, now. Gotta go.” She wouldn’t have it, ”No. Stay;” she held my arms tight around her. It finally dawned on me that holding her outweighed my anxieties about how proper this was and the perception of it all. We sat like that, oblivious to all the others, for probably two hours or so. Hardly a word was spoken between us. At lunch time she crawled down and went with the other kids to the cafeteria. She just needed to be held.
In this time of Pandemic and Quarantine and safe distancing and hand sanitizing and surface sanitizing and being locked up and locked down and being scared to death of COVID or dismissing it as a hoax and just the flu and wearing a mask and fogging up your glasses (LASIK surgery is up 30% during pandemic) and ZOOM meetings and daily doses of drama and heightened hysteria . . . we are desperately missing human contact. We have relatives and friends, people we love and enjoy being with, who need to be held. And we long to hold them.
We all need to be held; taken by the arm and pushed into a chair. We need to crawl into a lap. We need to have our lap crawled into. It is as natural and necessary as breathing and eating. Intimate physical touch is a need. Without touch brains and hearts grow stunted and crooked; they dry up and crack, pieces fall off.
So now, as 2020 draws to a merciful, well-deserved, long-overdue close; it is painfully obvious and we understand now more than ever why Jesus came to us. To touch and be touched. To hold and be held. To be intimate.
God revealed God’s self – herself, himself, itself – as an act of intimacy, in an act of intimacy. When you truly love someone one and want to love them well and fully you make yourself available. You give your self, because it somehow feels natural, because you don’t know what else to do; because anything else would not be enough. In so doing you make yourself vulnerable; vulnerable to heartbreak and joy; vulnerable to sorrow and ecstacy – and everything in between
This is what God did. This is what God does. This is what God is. Love. Intimately.
Letting Moses see his backside wasn’t enough. Administering the Law wasn’t enough. A much more intimate relationship was desired – is desired. He was born of a human woman – that’s intimate – her name was Mary. She carried him in her body for nine months, nursed him – that’s intimate. Presumably, at some point, Joseph got to hold him – intimate; all kinds of touching and holding those first years of his life. Jesus loved, like any human child, to be held, needed to be held. Jesus, like any infinitely and only marginally comprehendible loving savior of Creation, has to hold, loves to hold, longs to hold us. You.
Find a chair. Sit down. Let the arms of Jesus enfold you. You need it. So does God.
From the start of John’s Gospel:
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2He was in the beginning with God . . . And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth . . . .16From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. 17The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. 18No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.
Jesus, in the flesh and living among us, was and still is an act of love. He is grace. He is truth. He is ours.
We are his. We are in each other’s arms. Hold on tight.
A blessed New Year to you all!!
From our Presiding Bishop, Elizabeth Eaton:
The room was spare and dimly lit. We sat on folding chairs in a circle—young Honduran women and some of us from the ELCA. We had come to Honduras to observe the work of AMMPARO (Accompanying Migrant Minors with Protection, Advocacy, Representation and
Opportunities). This is the ELCA’s strategy to help youth who have been forced to flee their home countries because of violence, abuse, extortion by gangs and extreme poverty. Amparo is the Spanish word for shelter or refuge.
In this case, AMMPARO partnered with the Lutheran World Federation and the Mennonites to resettle returned migrants—
those who had tried to seek asylum in the United States but had failed or had been denied and deported back to Honduras.
One by one they told us their stories of fear and desperation. Not a one undertook the long and dangerous trek north on
a whim. They told us about the abuse they had suffered, about family members who had been killed by gangs, about the
inability to make a living because of the extortion by organized crime. They talked about the bitter sadness of leaving
home and family, and the uncertainty of the future.
I remember one young woman in particular. She was pregnant when she tried to migrate to the United States. She had the
baby somewhere along the way. She was far from home, mostly alone and desperately wanted her mother to be with her.
None of this is what she had hoped for when she was growing up. Circumstances beyond her control had forced her into
this new and strange existence. She and her baby were now back in Honduras—but not at home. Home was too dangerous.
Remember last Christmas? Remember all of the preparations, the travel to be with family? Remember the holy beauty of
the Christmas Eve liturgy and receiving Christ’s grace and forgiveness at his table? The shopping and Christmas caroling?
The in-person gatherings? All that has changed.
The pandemic hasn’t forced us from our homes but into our homes, sheltering in place, isolated. Not together, but
physically distanced. Not gathered with family and friends, but forced apart because of the threat of infection. Forced by
circumstances beyond our control into this strange existence. Oh, there will be Christmas carols piped into grocery stores
and other essential services, but they will be painful reminders of how life used to be.
We are reminded of the experience of the exiles in Babylon: “By the rivers of Babylon—there we sat down and there we
wept when we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our harps. For there our captives asked us for songs,
and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying, ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’ How could we sing the Lord’s song in a
foreign land” (Psalm 137)?
I told the young Honduran woman about another young woman who was forced to leave home because of a government
decree. She, too, was pregnant and made a long and difficult journey. She, too, was far from home and without her mother
when the baby came. She had to find shelter wherever she could. This wasn’t what she had hoped for when she was
growing up. Circumstances beyond her control had forced her into this new existence.
That young woman was Mary and the child was Jesus. Precisely in our distress, in our dislocation, the Lord shows up.
Emmanuel—God with us—makes his home in the very places we find foreign or isolating. The young Honduran woman,
and all of us, can find hope because of the birth of Mary’s child. There is no God-forsaken place and we are never alone—
not in hospital rooms, or sheltering in place, or Zoom calls or on dangerous roads.
Many of us will not be physically home for Christmas, but we are truly home in Christ.
We come into this world naked and that is pretty much also how we leave. In between is our life – all the people, all the places, all the possessions, the emotions, the dreams, promises kept or forgotten, wounds inflicted, wounds received, the list goes on indefinitely.
In our Lutheran liturgical worship, we confess sins and hear our forgiveness. We confess them generically from the order of worship in the hymnal after a few seconds of contemplating specifics. We then hear our forgiveness proclaimed. All good and wonderful – as it should be.
But there isn’t really a place where we give thanks for all the blessings – people, things, events, successes – we receive over the course of a day, a week or a life. Which is … unfortunate. As we confess our sins, the temptation, borne of guilt, is to try remember Every. Little. (or BIG) Thing. With varying degrees of success and truth.
How often do we try to remember Every. Little. (or BIG) Thing for which we can give thanks? Sharp intellect? Straight teeth? Good home? Nice in-Laws? Good job? Wonderful spouse? Good car in a nice garage? Happy healthy children/grandchildren? Good health? Nice retirement nest egg? Full refrigerator? Nice nostrils?
Make a list. Check it twice. For the mental and spiritual exercise of it all make a list of every single solitary person, place or thing – past, present, future – that makes your life better, bearable or possible. Can you think of at least …. fifty … one hundred? 200? No blessing too small or insignificant. Make a list.
Make a list. Don’t assume anything. Don’t take anything for granted. Make it a daylong event. Save it.
Now, all of those things – where do they come from? From whom do they come? It is a mistake, a trap, to think we have manufactured any of the blessings in our lives. It is a mistake to think that we are self-sustaining. A moralist, or a good Lutheran (take your pick), would say it is a sin to think thusly. Everything comes from God. It is in Luther’s Explanations. Think back . . . baaaack “. . . he has given me and still . . .”
The answer is God. Directly or indirectly all we have and all we are is from God. It is good to arrive at this recognition. Daily. This is where it comes to us that God loves us and wants to bless us. Daily. This exercise in thanksgiving – blessing recognition - is not to instill guilt. It is so we can recognize how blessed we are, and in the process, find some joy, recognize some joy. Daily. Maybe even find cause for some celebration. Hey! WOW! JOY! Daily.
A thankful person, a thankful life, a thankful heart lives a life of joy, a life in The Light. A thankful person should have a feast. In November. A thankful person should thank God. Should sing a hymn.
Now thank we all our God, with hearts and voices
Who wondrous things has done, in whom this world rejoices
Who, from our mothers’ arms has blest us on our way
With countless gifts of love, and still is ours today
Martin Rinkhart, 1586-1649, who was once a deacon in Eisleben, Germany, Luther’s home town, wrote this hymn, “Now Thank We All Our God.” In these current times, it is worth noting that Rinkhart served during The Thirty Years War. Close to 60% of the population of German died of starvation or disease during the Thirty Years War. And then he survived a plague in 1637. How did he manage to write this hymn? Here’s verse two:
Oh, may this bounteous God through all our life be near us
With ever joyful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us,
and keep us all in grace and guide us when perplexed
and free us from all harm in this world and the next
Feast in thanksgiving. Feast in faith. Feast in joy. Feast in God. Pass the potatoes.
God is good and knows all of our names. Save room for pie.
“… chart and compass come from thee …”
As ELCA Advocacy’s program director for environment and corporate social responsibility, Ivory-Moore helps lead the church’s efforts to make caring for creation a priority among God’s people. The creation care movement has deep roots in the church but has gained urgency as global environmental problems have worsened. Increased frequency of extreme weather events, floods, droughts, wildfires, species extinctions and melting glaciers are symptoms of a huge problem humanity must confront.
“We don’t have a choice,” Ivory-Moore said. “Climate change is real.”
Scientists say time is running out for people to act before it’s too late.
“All kinds of tipping points are looming very dangerously,” said Barbara Rossing, an ELCA pastor, author, environmental advocate and professor at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago (LSTC). “But we can walk back from the cliff.”
Lutherans are rising to the challenge. Across the church, congregations, synods, the churchwide organization and ELCA-affiliated ministries are working with ecumenical partners to educate people about creation care, and to inspire and organize them to take action.
“I see tremendous hope,” Ivory-Moore said, “because people know that we need to care for creation.”
The Bible reveals humanity’s responsibility to care for creation. Jesus commands people to love their neighbors as themselves, including neighbors halfway around the globe and the generations of neighbors who will follow. And God entrusted God’s good creation to humanity, beginning with the instruction in Genesis 1:28 to “subdue” and “have dominion” on earth—a common point of misunderstanding.
“What does it mean?” asked Larry Jorgenson, referring to the word “dominion.” Jorgenson was a lead author of the 1993 ELCA social statement “Caring for Creation: Vision, Hope and Justice.” Often cited as a license to exploit the earth for profit, “dominion” is better interpreted as caretaking for creation with love, modeled after the way God cares. Jorgenson said a faithful question is: “How do you have ‘dominion’ in the way the Christ has ‘dominion’?”
Passed at an ELCA churchwide assembly just five years after the denomination was formed, “Caring for Creation” shows the priority that Lutherans place on environmental issues. This document also provided a foundation for a related social statement on economic life that was adopted in 1999: “Sufficient, Sustainable Livelihood for All.”
When the two statements were formulated in the 1990s, climate change was just emerging as a concern, but pollution of air and water, such as the massive 1989 oil spill from the Exxon Valdez tanker into Alaska’s pristine Prince William Sound, galvanized public attention.
“The Exxon Valdez oil spill crushed my spirit and grieved me in and out,” said Kim Winchell, an Alaska-born ELCA deacon for whom the spill was both a wake-up call and a call to action. She was motivated to help start recycling programs in her workplace and community, and that was just the start. “Out of that disaster I took a step and then another step and then another step,” she said.
Becoming increasingly more involved in the church’s environmental movement, Winchell eventually authored Awakening to God’s Call to Earthkeeping, the ELCA’s 2006 curriculum for congregations and individuals. She likes the term “awakening” to describe how God nudged her and nudges all people into environmental consciousness.
“It takes a spiritual epiphany,” she said. Conversation, deep sharing and education can get things moving, but God steps in. “It’s got to come from your heart, but it takes the Holy Spirit to help affect that too,” she added.
Lutheran theologians, pastors and advocates are finding renewed voices and creative ways to engage God’s people in addressing the environmental crisis.
“We need what (Old Testament scholar) Walter Brueggemann called prophetic imagination,” said Leah Schade, an ELCA pastor who writes and teaches on environmental issues at Lexington (Ky.) Theological Seminary. “We need a holy imagination to cast a vision for what God intended and what God wants for this world and for our bodies.”
Prominent prophetic voices are emerging, such as Greta Thunberg, the 17-year-old Swedish activist whose words “How dare you!” shamed world leaders for their inaction on climate change. Another is Pope Francis, whose 2015 encyclical Laudato Si (“Praise Be”) critiques the economic model that has caused environmental degradation, climate change and human suffering. Laudato Si calls for humanity to act collectively to end “the spiral of self-destruction which currently engulfs us.”
Thunberg and Pope Francis are inspiring and emboldening Christians to speak, and that makes a big difference on the local level, Schade said.
“All studies have shown that when clergy talk about the environment, and they’re preaching and they’re teaching, their congregants are more likely to take it seriously, and they’re more likely to want to learn more and want to take action,” she said.
“We’d like to see the environmental ethos be infused in churches, just like prayer is.”
Throughout the Bible, writers and prophets have given people hope by revealing God’s deepest intention not just to save the world but also to heal it, Rossing said. In fact, “healing” and “saving” are both meanings contained in the Greek word sozo that appears dozens of times in original New Testament manuscripts but is usually translated as only “save.” With both meanings of sozo in mind, the familiar passage of John 3:16-17 reveals that God sent Jesus to both save and heal, she said.
“We don’t seem to realize how closely tied up salvation is with healing in the Christian tradition,” Rossing said. Applied to the current environmental crisis, “healing” provides a faithful framework to understand God’s intention toward creation and our role in healing creation. “The more we can recalibrate our relationship with the natural world, the more this can be a moment for healing too,” she said.
From the 1993 “Caring for Creation” statement to the current deepening crisis, Lutherans have been moving steadily in the direction of environmental action through several diverse programs and outreach ministries. The efforts may now be reaching a critical mass as Lutherans find common cause in creation care with one another and with other faith communities.
“Over the last two-plus years, we’ve been aware of an increasing amount of interest in caring for creation and environmental related issues,” said Keith Mundy, ELCA program director for stewardship. Much of the surge comes from young adults who seem to have a broader and deeper interest than their older counterparts.
Schade said, “I’m seeing young people who are galvanized and speaking out on this issue and organizing these protests and the marches, and so eloquently and so prophetically bringing this issue to the fore.”
Rossing agreed: “The younger generation just seems to be getting it, saying we’re not going to put up with this.”
Church leaders also experienced a growing awareness that environmental issues impact problems of concern to a wide range of ministries. That’s certainly true for ELCA Advocacy, which works on a portfolio of policy issues, all of which are exacerbated by environmental issues.
“It’s a common thread that runs through every other policy that we have,” Ivory-Moore said. For instance, air and water quality directly affect health and housing issues. Similarly, climate change affects Lutheran Disaster Response, as it works with communities devastated by tornadoes and storms linked to global warming. And climate-related heat, drought and floods disrupt agriculture, impacting the work of ELCA World Hunger.
Recognizing that a spectrum of specialized ministries is concerned, directly or indirectly, with environmental issues, Mundy and Ivory-Moore led the work of creating the ELCA Sustainability Table, which brings together representatives from about two dozen ministries for conversation and coordination.
“We just feel we’ll be much more productive if we’re able to bring these ministries together,” Ivory-Moore said. The ministries represent a diversity of interests, viewpoints and places. Getting underway in 2020, the Sustainability Table has formed five working groups to help bring the church into conversations that will lead to concrete steps.
“That’s the whole goal of the Sustainability Table,” Ivory-Moore said, “to make sure that we move the church forward with actionable items.”
Mundy said, “It’s about awareness; it’s about education; it’s about advocacy; it’s about finding ways that we can help.”
The ELCA has also entered a collaborative relationship with Blessed Tomorrow—an interreligious environmental advocacy group that is part of ecoAmerica—to raise up a corps of Lutheran speakers and advocates called Creation Care Ambassadors. The volunteer ambassadors are trained to speak about environmental issues from a faith perspective, to give presentations, and to engage in civil and constructive conversations with people across the political and ideological spectrum.
“Blessed Tomorrow has a great training that helps people figure out how to talk about climate change without talking politics,” said Phoebe Morad, executive director of Lutherans Restoring Creation (LRC), a grassroots organization that is working with the ELCA to coordinate the Creation Care Ambassador program.
It’s vital to bring everybody together on creation care in order to move ahead together, and from the experience in her congregation, Morad knows it can be difficult to put people of different political persuasions on the same page. She said it can be done by creating a safe space, listening, respecting differences and finding common ground even while acknowledging that differences of outlook and opinion remain.
“Not everybody has to agree on everything to move forward,” Morad said. For instance, a congregation may enjoy unanimous support for installing solar panels—but for different reasons. Half the congregation might want to help the environment by reducing fossil-fuel use, while the other half might want the panels because they will cut energy costs and free up money for mission.
“We’ve realized that you really have to let go of everyone agreeing on everything and move together in faith with grace,” Morad said.
Overseeing the Creation Care Ambassador program fits well with LRC’s mission and body of work to date. LRC has focused on educating, equipping and mobilizing individuals, pastors, congregations and synods to understand the issues of creation care and make them an integral part of their ministry contexts.
“We’d like to see the environmental ethos be infused in churches, just like prayer is,” Morad said. “You don’t have to see it as another burden or something to tackle. It’s an asset.”
Similar to establishing the Sustainability Table, the ELCA’s work with an interreligious group such as ecoAmerica recognizes both the enormity of the challenges facing the world and that more can get done by working with others, Ivory-Moore said.
The church is also in conversation with businesses and other organizations that are not necessarily faith-based. “We need to have everybody at the table, particularly if you’re addressing climate change,” she said.
In so many different ways, the church is gaining strength as a leader in creation care. In so doing, the ELCA may at last be realizing the vision of the “Caring for Creation” social statement—that the church would be a place where conversations could take place, people could explore together, and find solutions and hope, Jorgenson said.
“We’re called to live in hope,” he added. “There’s something mysterious about hope.”
Even as the environmental crises deepen and scientists sound the alarm, across the church hope is rising in the hearts and minds of those who are passionate about climate change.
Rossing sees humanity reaching a tipping point where, with God’s help, people will turn from environmental destruction and embrace a new way of being that leads to healing.
For inspiration, she remembers the lines from the hymn “Canticle of the Turning” (Evangelical Lutheran Worship, 723) that are full of hope and expectancy.
My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near,
and the world is about to turn.
“It’s not that the world is going to end; the world is about to turn,” Rossing said. “It’s an imperative that we turn, and the world is turning, has to turn, before it’s too late.”
Robert C. Blezard is an assistant to the bishop of the Lower Susquehanna Synod and editor of Living Lutheran's study guides.
Behold, I make all things new
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
January 2020
It all started with Adam and Eve; and fire and rocks and some favorite sticks. Then a wheel or two came along, drawing on cave walls, light bulbs, then electricity, then IBM Selectrics, then Al Gore’s Internet, Atari and Pong and phones that virtually run your life. Life seems to be one big acceleration; we go bigger, better, faster, shinier because. Because we can and we convince ourselves it is better. Who can argue with self-driving cars? With AI? Faster medical care, faster news, faster learning are all better. Better than? Better because? Ask Alexa or Siri. Large segments of our culture are being influenced by people who live large segments of their life in front of a screen and keyboard. They speak and think in blips and contractions and neologisms. And, yes, they make our lives better and easier with stuff that we take for granted.
Now, I am not a Luddite: I’m writing this on a PC, looked up the origin of Luddite on the InterWeb (a member of any of the bands of English workers who destroyed machinery, especially in cotton and woolen mills, that they believed was threatening their jobs (1811–16)) and will publish this electronically on two or three platforms. I have both the Old and New Testament on my smart phone, including the Hebrew and Greek texts. Technology is not bad. But technology is not life.
Despite every bit of evidence to the contrary, technology is not life. God is life. Jesus is life. The first words of the Gospel of John:
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2He was in the beginning with God. 3All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. 6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. 8He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. 9The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.
Jesus is not an app. Jesus is not the result of human coding. Jesus is God made flesh, made human. This is not news. It is not an earth-shattering revelation. But it gets forgotten. It goes by the wayside. It gets ignored. It gets avoided.
Maybe because believing seems too easy. Maybe because we have to stop or slow down to take it in. Maybe because in this faster and faster results-oriented world it seems quaint or antique. Or in an era of self-absorption, Jesus seems just, simply irrelevant.
I have no argument to convince you to believe in Jesus. Stories work better than arguments. Arguments are for app users. Stories are for people who have stopped to listen.
So let this be your New Year’s Resolution: Stop to listen.
Every so often turn off all your devices, let Alexa and Siri rest, stop streaming whatever. And just listen. Listen for God talking to you. Listen to someone’s story. Listen to the breeze in the trees, listen for susurrations. Listen to absolute silence, to the snow settling, the snow plow going by. Listen to a snowflake land on your nose or tongue. A heavy snowfall is audible. Listen for people on the other side of the world.
Listen and rest. Take your foot off the gas. Take your thumb off the phone. Remove your earbuds. Read a Psalm.
Listen and rest. Read Psalm 90
9 For all our days pass away under your wrath; our years come to an end like a sigh.
10 The days of our life are seventy years, or perhaps eighty, if we are strong; even then their span is only toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away. 11 Who considers the power of your anger? Your wrath is as great as the fear that is due to you.
12 So teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom.
The wrath has been taken care of. Jesus.
The numbering of your days? Wisdom? That’s you.
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
Christmas 2019
Do you remember when you were a little child, sleeping in your own room, maybe you had a brother or sister or two or three with you? Do you remember that feeling when your parents turned out the light and closed the door? It was black. It was dark. You couldn’t tell if your eyes were open or shut. Did your siblings not see what was lurking? How could they sleep so well when you knew you were all about to be eaten? Maybe you were teased for your fear of the dark. Maybe you negotiated a deal with Mom or Dad to leave the hall light on and the door open a crack. You finally fell asleep – concentrating on that crack of light. The light coming in that bit of an opening saved your life every night.
Eventually, theoretically, we overcome our fear of the dark. Turn out the lights and we are asleep in seconds.
But maybe we never really lose our fear of the dark. One way or another in one form or another we have a fear of, not the dark, but darkness. We fill the darkness with anything that will distract or delude us – noise, things, toys, bright moving images, sports, drugs and alcohol, political parties, celebrity worship, physical perfection. We hide from the harsh realities of the world lurking in the closet or under the bed. We hide from differing opinions, skin color and religions. We hide from people starving as we feast. We hide from compassion because it makes us feel guilty and powerless. We delude ourselves with certainty, we clutch it tight, in a death-grip, deep under the covers.
On Christmas day, or at least what we mark as Christmas day, over 2000 years ago, a child was born to a young Jewish couple in a manger in Bethlehem. The child, named Jesus, was born not just to the couple, Mary and Joseph, but to the world. The World. To you. To the person in front of you at the checkout line. To the folks who sneak in the back of church after worship starts. To the folks who summer at the Shore and winter in Vail. To the people who just cannot catch a break. Jesus was born to the people of Ireland, Burundi, Macao, and Fargo and Mellen and North Korea. He was born to all of us who are torn between fear of darkness – where we will be eaten; and fear of the light – where we are doing the eating. From the Gospel of John, chapter 1:
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2He was in the beginning with God. 3All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. … 9The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. … 14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.
The God of Creation became flesh, became real – human, eating, breathing – with that nice young Jewish couple. There is supposed to be Light in the world. Not Darkness. Not Victims and Victimizers. Not sin. Not guilt.
There is supposed to be Hope in the world – Light. Not survival of the fittest, not the scramble to be King of the Hill of the American Dream.
On that first Christmas Day in Bethlehem (whenever it actually was) God opened the World’s bedroom door all the way. Light flooded in and still burns bright today. It is there for refuge, for promise, for call, for direction. For Salvation. For you. For your spouse. For the neighbor and in-laws who drive you crazy. For gazillions of people you’ll never know in places you’ve never heard of. For your children.
It is not merely light either.
It is actually Love. Transforming, Redeeming, Resurrecting, Relentless Love.
We are loved.
We are lit.
We are joyful.
We are merry.
We will not be overcome.
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
December 2019
Once upon a time there was a doctor, a very good doctor. She could diagnose accurately, quickly; treat correctly. She was a technical expert, an intuitive genius. The doctor had at her disposal the latest diagnostic technology and dedicated, well-trained nurses and technicians. Moreover, she was gentle and caring, patient and warm. Always with a smile, never forgetting a name or a family member, she cured as much with bedside manner as he did with medication and surgery.
The problem was she never left her hospital. There were many people in her country who could not make it to her clinic. The only people the good doctor treated were in the immediate vicinity of the clinic – a day’s walk or shorter – those folks who could walk in. In the far regions of the country people were dying too soon simply because no one came to their aid. The doctor conducted all her healing within the confines of a well-equipped, well-staffed building.
One day someone, later identified as a health care delivery fairy, asked what if she left the building. What if the doctor and all the equipment and all the technicians and all the nurses went out into the country? What if? is a question that is the birth of creativity.
Soon enough the good doctor went out into the outer regions of the country. All the diagnostic equipment and staff would have to come later. She made do with who and what she could fit into an ATV. Sometimes facilities and working conditions were less than optimal, perhaps even dangerous. And it certainly was nothing like what she had at her disposal in the hospital. But it all worked, one way or the other – miraculously. It all held together, one way or another– miraculously.
Many, many lives were saved; many, many lives were turned around. The brilliant doctor not only saved lives but inspired others to become doctors and health care professionals, thus saving even more lives. All because the health care delivery fairy was heard and good gifted people dared to leave the building and go out.
What if we good and gifted Christians dared to leave behind our comfortable buildings and expectations, our optimal conditions and venture forth? We’d be listening not for the health care delivery fairy, but the Holy Spirit. What would happen? Obviously, we would not be practicing medicine as the doctor was (medical missionaries notwithstanding), we would instead be listening to peoples’ life stories, seeing life situations and telling/showing/living out how God is present and fits into those stories and folks’ lives to strengthen, turn around, sustain and heal.
People have died and do die for lack of medical attention – the presence of someone with medical expertise. People have died and do die for lack of Christian attention – someone who can be God’s presence, not with expertise but with faith and a loving, persistent heart.
All of us, whether we know it or not, have saved a life. We have been the Christian attention. We have been God’s presence whether for a minute or two or a lifetime or anything in between.
It is time to take our expertise, our faith, our fears, our daring, our mistakes, our discomfort, our defeats, our victories, our miracles, our hopes and promises of resurrections out into places where they are so desperately needed. These places won’t be far away. They will be sooner and closer than we think.
In a Sunday or two, the four Sundays of Advent begin. They are to recognize, remind and celebrate God coming to the world once upon a time AND God coming again. To the World.
What if the season of Advent was about our coming, our imminent arrival? What if the season of Advent was about someone waiting for and anticipating not only Christ, but us, the body of Christ?
Here’s the deal with our baptisms: we are called to be on the way – on the way to someone somewhere to be Christian attention. You could be someone’s salvation.
Are we on the way?
We have to be.
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
November 2019
Why do we come to church on, for the most part, Sunday mornings? Why are we there sitting on a pew in the nave on a Sunday morning having cleaned up and put on reasonably nice clean clothes?
We are there to . . . find peace, find inspiration, confess the week’s sins, receive forgiveness, sing a favorite hymn of two, hear or perform a great anthem, hear the magnificent organ, hear the sermon, receive Holy Communion, make social contacts, have fellowship after worship, find respite from our chaos, sense God’s presence. Any one of these or any combination would be an answer; including because someone makes me. And they are all about what we receive, what we get out of worship.
However. However, in the oremus Bible Browser (oremus is Latin for “let us pray.” www.oremus.org is a pretty nifty website btw) there are 294 matches when “worship” is the search criterion. They begin with Genesis 22.5: Then Abraham said to his young men, ‘Stay here with the donkey; the boy and I will go over there; we will worship, and then we will come back to you.’ and end with Revelation 22.8, 9: I, John, am the one who heard and saw these things. And when I heard and saw them, I fell down to worship at the feet of the angel who showed them to me;Top of Form
but he said to me, ‘You must not do that! I am a fellow-servant with you and your comrades the prophets, and with those who keep the words of this book. Worship God!’ Depending on who is doing the counting, there are 1,189 chapters in the Bible and 31,173 verses; some are very short, some are very long. Out of all those, 294 passages tell of worshiping God.
Now, think of all the blessings we receive from God over the course of a week. Let’s pause and reflect . . . . . . . . .doo be . . . . .doo be doo . . . . exchanging glances. . . .wondering if at all . . . . da da dum . . . . son of God . . . . Son of . . . . . . .man . . . . . . .. . .I’d serve . . . . . . . truly . . . . .. . .. .. . now and forever . . . . OK, Times up.
Blessings. Be real about it, now. Are there any that are not from God? Of course not.
So then, since everything is from God, what do we do in return? How do we repay the favor? Is it possible for us to even begin to repay the blessings that God showers upon us? Do you catch yourself in the pew as the plate approaches, “God, I know your Son died for us, but right now all I’ve got is a fifty . . and . .oh jeepers . . . . aww, mannn . . . well, there it goes. Maybe I can get a receipt. Maybe the pastor saw it.” ? We can’t repay. We CAN worship.
We go to church, we assemble, in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit or Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier on Sunday morning, Saturday night or Wednesdays in the summer to worship God. The boat, golf course, deer stand, deck, bleachers or recliner do not count. Do not count. At all. Key word: assemble.
We go to church to worship God.
It is God’s command. It is our duty. For an hour, an hour and a quarter if the sermon gets out of hand, it is our duty and command and joy to come before God and worship with thanksgiving and praise. One hour, two if you want to include prep and travel time, out of 168 hours in the week is what God wants – at least that’s the current theological wisdom and ecclesial practice. Technically, Biblically, our entire life should be an act of worship, a lifetime of glorifying God. Currently it is 1 out of 168; 0.00595th of the week.
God wanting to be worshiped and glorified – doesn’t that seem a bit needy? According to pop psychology of the day? Well …. we worship the Packers, Vikings, Bears, Brewers, Twins, Badgers, Oredockers, our children’s achievements, our careers, our national leaders, our political parties all at the drop of a hat. We live and die, curse and cry, boast and hide with their glorious victories and ignominious defeats. Why not worship a living God who actually knows our name, created us, recreates us, gives us purpose, provides for us, sustains us, grants us courage, loves us and – promises us eternal life – if we but believe in God’s Son?
We can meet this God – at the very least, the very least – every Sunday morning in worship. It’s God’s will and it is our duty. We can meet God. Because God loves us and wants to keep in touch.
What a deal!?! – when the Creator of the Universe and All That Is and All That Will Ever Be just wants us to stop in and tell him “You are wonderful and great! Glory Hallelujah! Praises to you!”
Just like we do for a walk-off homer or a winning field goal as time expires. Only with God it’s holy.
Worship God. On a Sunday morning find a building with a bunch of people, look for the cross up front, can you smell coffee? do you hear music? are you welcomed?
That’s the place. Worship God.
October 2019
Then Amalek came and fought with Israel at Rephidim. Moses said to Joshua, "Choose some men for us and go out, fight with Amalek. Tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill with the staff of God in my hand." So Joshua did as Moses told him, and fought with Amalek, while Moses, Aaron, and Hur went up to the top of the hill. Whenever Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed; and whenever he lowered his hand, Amalek prevailed. But Moses' hands grew weary; so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side; so his hands were steady until the sun set. And Joshua defeated Amalek and his people with the sword. Exodus 17: 8 – 13
As long as Moses held his arms up Israel was winning the battle against Amalek. The presence of Moses tells you that this is taking place as Israel is wandering in the Wilderness after escaping the Pharaoh and his soldiers at the Red Sea. They are headed for the Promised Land but here in the way is Amalek, a grandson of Esau, and his band of not-so-merry Amalekites. Amalekites and Israelites didn’t get along, obviously. But that is not the point.
The point is not really Moses at all. The point is Aaron and Hur. They were in the background of Israel’s history and survival while Moses was in the foreground. Yet they were just as necessary to Israel’s survival and history as was Moses. Had they not been there to hold up Moses’ arms the battle would’ve been lost to the Amalekites.
It seems that great things need something small somewhere in their natural history. A massive oak starts with an acorn. A 16 ton piece of machinery stands idle for lack of a roll pin or cotter key. A superduper computerized $4,000 sewing machine waits for a $3.59 needle. A $75 a seat rock concert can’t go on for lack of a 30 amp fuse.
Why should it be any less so in the Kingdom of God? Why should it be any less so, now in 2019, with us, than it was with Aaron and Hur having to hold up Moses’ arms 5 or 10 thousand years ago?
The hanger for a garage door is two or three 2x12’s, nice big pieces of lumber, but to get them trued up – to get them level - requires a shim, a piece of “lumber” no larger than half a playing card. If the 2x12’s aren’t true the garage door won’t be true and there will be no seal – rain, snow and bugs come in. Which is a bad thing.
Never underestimate (or overestimate) what you are to the kingdom of God. Ministry – God working through us to serve God’s Creation human and otherwise – comes in infinite shapes and sizes. You are one of those shapes and sizes. Don’t think for a minute that God doesn’t want you, can’t use you, won’t use you in ministry. Be still for a bit and act.
Don’t think for a minute that God doesn’t call you, can’t call you, won’t call you to ministry. Be still for a bit and listen.
Don’t think for a minute that God doesn’t love you, can’t love you, won’t love you. Be still for a bit and enjoy it. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a life filled with delight? God’s delight and yours – all rolled into one.
8/2/2019 12:35:00 PM
CHICAGO — The Rev. Elizabeth A. Eaton, presiding bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), has joined Christian leaders in a statement against Christian nationalism.
"Whether we worship at a church, mosque, synagogue, or temple, America has no second-class faiths," their statement reads. "All are equal under the U.S. Constitution."
The full statement follows:
As Christians, our faith teaches us everyone is created in God's image and commands us to love one another. As Americans, we value our system of government and the good that can be accomplished in our constitutional democracy. Today, we are concerned about a persistent threat to both our religious communities and our democracy — Christian nationalism.
Christian nationalism seeks to merge Christian and American identities, distorting both the Christian faith and America's constitutional democracy. Christian nationalism demands Christianity be privileged by the State and implies that to be a good American, one must be Christian. It often overlaps with and provides cover for white supremacy and racial subjugation. We reject this damaging political ideology and invite our Christian brothers and sisters to join us in opposing this threat to our faith and to our nation.
As Christians, we are bound to Christ, not by citizenship, but by faith. We believe that:
People of all faiths and none have the right and responsibility to engage constructively in the public square.
Patriotism does not require us to minimize our religious convictions.
One's religious affiliation, or lack thereof, should be irrelevant to one's standing in the civic community.
Government should not prefer one religion over another or religion over nonreligion.
Religious instruction is best left to our houses of worship, other religious institutions and families.
America's historic commitment to religious pluralism enables faith communities to live in civic harmony with one another without sacrificing our theological convictions.
Conflating religious authority with political authority is idolatrous and often leads to oppression of minority and other marginalized groups as well as the spiritual impoverishment of religion.
We must stand up to and speak out against Christian nationalism, especially when it inspires acts of violence and intimidation—including vandalism, bomb threats, arson, hate crimes, and attacks on houses of worship—against religious communities at home and abroad.
Whether we worship at a church, mosque, synagogue, or temple, America has no second-class faiths. All are equal under the U.S. Constitution. As Christians, we must speak in one voice condemning Christian nationalism as a distortion of the gospel of Jesus and a threat to American democracy.
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
In the first week of July I had an arthroscopic procedure on my right knee. It’s 5:50 a. m., IV needles go in, I’m wheeled off to somewhere, the anesthesia person says, “Hi there,” I repeat my name, date of birth and procedure for the 30th time that morning, wake up two minutes later, it’s about noon, my whole leg is wrapped up, I’m told there are two holes in my knee, keep it dry, don’t pick at it and home we go.
Ice packs and pain medication. Crutches for a day or so. “Ambulate as tolerated.”
And then. Find a comfortable position. Ain’t that just the story of life – marriage, faith, church, job, friends, golfing, back-up quarterback, retirement, politics? Find a comfortable position.
And Leg up. Leg down. Sitting. Reclining or semi-reclining. For a night or two I slept on the couch simply because I was too comfortable to move. Faced with the discomfort of moving and then re-establishing a position of comfort, I took the lazy way out and stayed on the couch. I finally had to move to go to the bathroom . . . to take more medication.
I am drawing from my inconvenience and discomfort and theoretically making a point. On the other hand, there are people with serious chronic pain from any number of ongoing disease processes. I cannot begin to hold a candle to them (and their spouses) for how they gracefully endure and bear their constant pain, fight to get through their day and try to understand why them and why no end in sight. I don’t want to trivialize their experience. At all. In eight weeks or so I’ll be pretty good; for the others it’s another eight weeks of the same old thing. Followed by – for the rest of their lives – the same old thing.
“Position of comfort” doesn’t apply only to physical pain. It applies to psychic pain, spiritual pain and simply the daily effort to understand a crazy threatening world as it floods over us from the media. Where do we go for comfort? Where do we go for refuge? What are we using for pain medication? Is there somewhere we can go where it doesn’t hurt? Can we find a position of comfort (POC) for our heads, hearts and souls?
A POC isn’t a bad thing. Healing can take place, needs to take place, tissues need time to knit and recover from the trauma of the procedure. But only up to a point. If we stay with the POC too long it becomes a trap. We become too comfortable and can’t move at all – we don’t dare or simply can’t. Joints and tissues heal and knit, scar tissue forms and we tighten up. We lose range of motion (ROM), we become crippled. Because we fell in love with our POC.
The next step in post-op recovery is physical therapy. Stretching and rebuilding muscles that stabilize the joint and make the whole limb actually work. The goal is a full ROM for the joint in question and as normal a gait as possible.
Physical therapy is work, there will be perspiration. Physical therapy brings discomfort, there will be utterances. It is absolutely necessary to regain full use of the limb and ultimately the whole body. When a good session of PT is finished there is relief, there are ice packs and here are OTC (over the counter) pain relievers. The discomfort is temporary, the strength grows, the joint becomes trustworthy, we move towards wholeness.
So then, Dear Reader, do you come to the worship experience, sermon, hymns, communion, confession, silence, etc. to be comforted? To find (in a pew?!) your POC ? Or do you come to worship to be stretched and limbered up theologically, to be challenged and then go out into the world and kick some financial and missional butt? Maybe a bit of both?
From the Northwest Corner of 517 9th Avenue West
In theory, Summer is upon us, if for no other reason than it is June. Technically, the Summer Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere occurs when the Sun reaches both its highest and northernmost points in the sky.
So during this period of long days and warm temperatures it is incumbent on us who have survived the short, dark, cold, bitter, leaden, glum, disheartening, gray, miserable days of winter to do Summer things. We owe it to ourselves and the universe to get as much out of every Summer day as possible. Using pallet boards, duct tape and sheet rock screws, board up your TV’s and Gaming Screens until the first snowfall. Then ….
Sleep under the stars every night. Go swimming every day; right after your hike. Go to all the parades within a 120 mile radius. Go to all the summer festivals within a 240 mile radius. Go to the Rutabaga festival in Cumberland, National Mustard Day in Middleton, Burger Fest in Seymour, the Wisconsin State Cow Chip Throw in Prairie du Sac, the Cheese festival in Little Chute, the Butter festival in Reedsburg or the Sputnik Fest in Manitowoc. Bring back T-Shirts and mugs.
Go to softball games in the evenings, baseball games on Sundays. Go down and see the Brewers or the Twins. Eat as much fresh fruit and as many fresh vegetables as you can stand. Eat those carrots, peas and tomatoes while you’re standing right there in the garden; onions and carrots too. That little bit of dirt is good for you. Get every last juicy, sticky drop of juice across your palate as possible. Eat sweet, sweet watermelon and spit out the seeds. Go to the ABC Raceway and any other stock car races in the area. Don’t prepare any meals indoors. Grill everything.
Drink out of the garden hose - water so cold it makes your throat ache - after mowing the lawn. Have an ice-cold (so cold it makes your throat ache) barley-based hop-flavored beverage after weeding the garden. Have a bonfire every night. Go boating. Go fishing. Drive all over the Upper United States visiting friends and family. Catch every sunrise and sunset. Go golfing and bike riding – at the same time if they let you. Have a water balloon fight. Plant trees and flowers. Drift from Sand Island over to Two Harbors on an air mattress (have someone in a boat follow just in case. Alert the Coast Guard probably also. Some flares too).
Catch all the fireworks displays; especially, obviously, the ones on the 4th of July. Lay on your back and let all the exploding colors and noise wash over you. Get every last bit of juice and pulp, stars and light, enjoyment, entertainment, life, goodness, fellowship, enrichment, joy and peace you can out of being alive this Summer. Go to State and County fairs; eat anything deep fried. Wash it down with Cotton Candy.
Now …
Do you ever think of approaching your relationship with God in the same way? Do you ever find yourself wanting more from God. Not more stuff but a deeper more – visions, realizations, understandings, and again with stars and light, enjoyment, entertainment, life, goodness, fellowship, enrichment, joy and peace”. Maybe even power. Maybe even purpose. Maybe even a life changed for the better, by a little or by a lot. Which you can then share with spouse and children, friends. Or even the world. There are no festivals but every Sunday morning somewhere there is worship. Go.
Juice and pulp. Bread and wine. Life and Death. Resurrection and Transformation. Gift and Call.
Not a nanosecond is impossible. In Christ all things are possible. I think that’s in the Bible.
Pastor’s Report 2018
Greetings in the name of the Father who created us, the Son who forgives us and the Holy Spirit who recreates and calls us every day.
As of this reading I am entering the 27th day of my eleventh year here at Saron; my 23rd year of ordained ministry. It is a privilege and honor to be your pastor. It is my prayer that I live up to the challenge and call of ministering to this congregation and to the larger community of Ashland and its surrounding communities.
1. Saron is not merging with Good Shepherd as Pastor Chesley retires. Period. It is just not realistic at this time, if ever. I may end up serving as pastor to both congregations, but I don’t see that happening any time soon. Good Shepherd has only just begun their discernment process to deal with Pastor Chesley’s absence and how they will go forward. He’s been their pastor for 25 years plus – their transition will undoubtedly be adventurous. Whatever happens between our two congregations, if anything, won’t become clear for quite some time. Do not hold your breath. We are Saron, I am the pastor, you are the ministers, we will go about our usual business while keeping an eye out for the work of the Holy Spirit. Whatever happens will happen.
2. Our future awaits us. We are not a dying church; we’re not flourishing either. But we are, give or take, holding our own and doing it well. I feel more positivity in the air these days, a better energy. This sounds like so much pastoral malarkey or HappyTalk or New Age weirdness but God is at work here, Saron and her call have not been forsaken by God. The Holy Spirit is at work. It is indeed perceptible.
3. However …..
a. Our debt and the servicing thereof is holding us back like an anchor dragging along the bottom and we cannot cut the chain. We must be aggressive in paying it off (it is waay, forecloseable past due) and should consider a capital fund drive. This would involve sacrificial giving, pledging over and above your usual giving plan.
b. Maintenance costs are only going to increase as our beautiful 50+ year old building and grounds age. Brace yourself and be ready to open both heart and checkbook. Maintenance deferred is disaster expedited. No one comes to something falling apart. No one gives to something falling apart. Falling apart is not God’s will for us.
c. We need more members to participate in something, anything, a new thing. The age-old ecclesial rule of thumb is: 10% of a congregation give 90% of the budget; 10% know and care what’s going on, 90% are along for the ride. Saron needs to bring those numbers closer together. We’re not big enough to survive on the 10:90 rule. We need much higher participation in anything, something, everything. Yes, including your Giving Plan. (a Giving Plan is giving X% of your income – off the top – on a weekly or monthly basis without stopping for the summer. A Giving Plan involves not trusting just your penny pinching but trusting God’s Providence as well.
d. This is doable. When we pray. When we dare. When we act. That’s how Saron got started; it’s how many churches got started. And continue. And flourish.
4. Thank you. Thank you to Emma Meyer, Tim Gruper and Mary Gruper, President Mary Maderich, Treasurer Sherri Mettler and the rest of the Church Council. Sue Kolek and Don Kolek. Thank you.
In Christ,
Pastor Paul Simmons