Lost... and found

 Luke 15

In Luke the story of the lost sheep is just the first of three stories in a row about something or someone who’s lost. These three stories are a response to grumbling at Jesus about who Jesus eats with… sinners, tax collectors… distasteful people of both the low and high class. And in response, Jesus tells stories about one sheep in a flock of 100 who goes missing. A wise shepherd, of course, goes and finds that sheep and celebrates the find (sheep are valuable)… The second story is about a woman who loses one of her ten precious coins. She sweeps every nook and cranny until she finds it and celebrates (coins are valuable). The third story is about a son who leaves home with his inheritance, spends it all, experiences famine and when all is lost, when he finally comes to himself and decides to return home, his father runs to him in celebration (children are valuable).

Lost stories

Some pastors gathered around a table Wednesday morning… to talk about lost things.

A lost sheep, a lost coin… a lost boy from Minnesota whose bones were finally found, after his disappearance and tragic death 27 years ago.

And at our table, there was deep grief for everything and everyone… lost.

We all have our “lost” stories.

On this fifteenth anniversary of September 11^th, 2001, we remember … some of us were there in New York, many others can remember where they were in the moments they heard the news and how it impacted them that day and in the days and weeks and months that followed. It’s a “lost” story—loss of lives, loss of a certain sense of security and invulnerability…

When we try to hold all those lost stories by ourselves, they become overwhelmingly heavy. But at that table of conversation and grief, here are some of the ways forward that we imagined together:

Yes, we all have “lost” stories, but we also have “found” stories… some we might even remember that were connected to that day, Sep. 11^th, neighbors who looked out for each other in new ways, an outpouring of support for firefighters and others who rush in to find when others are rushing out, people gathering together throughout this country and throughout the world for vigils out of their grief and love. There were some ways that we found one another again in the days after feeling so lost…

 

Found stories

What are your “found” stories? When have you known that someone, that God, sees you, knows you deeply, loves you even more deeply?

On Friday, I found myself at Luther Seminary to meet some of the 95 new students entering the Christian Public Leader program… at least one of whom plans to join us this year at Christ. I had no sooner announced that we still had openings for a seminarian when Rev. Bitrus Bamai, from Nigeria, said, “I will be your student. I will come to Christ.” As we chatted, we found we had children of similar ages… but Bitrus was also drawn to this context because he has never worked under a woman. So, immediately, we found both places of connection and places where we will have work to do as we learn one another’s cultures.

It is such an honor and privilege for us to have international seminary students each year at Christ. It gives us the opportunity to stretch and grow. It helps us to ask the question, “What are our patterns of sameness and what could we do differently?” Although we are a multicultural congregation already, these relationships can help us to grow from a place of de-emphasizing difference (a belief that we are really all the same essentially) to more deeply comprehending the beautiful diversity that God created and loves and somehow, miraculously brings together here… and as we do that, as we comprehend how different we really are, we start to really see and know each other, and potentially find that we are deeply known. This takes work, but it is good work, it is life-giving work, it is visionary “tree of life” work.

Where do you feel lost?

What are some of your own stories of being found?

This week, think about these stories… are there certain stories that you come back to again and again? I know there are for me… And what would it mean for us to release into God’s care some of those lost stories and shape our storytelling, shape our lives around the ways that we’ve been found?

Would re-telling our stories, and especially the stories of how God finds us, help us to have more energy to reach out, build community, act as the body of Christ?

I’ll never forget one of the storytelling events that Humble Walk hosted a few years back. My friend Nate Houge shared a story about the grief-filled process of giving up on a dream. He wanted to be a full-time professional musician, and he described in detail his last tour… a tour where few fans showed, and finally he decided to give it all up. He ended the story saying something like this, “So now, I’m baking bread... and on Wednesdays, that’s where I can be found.” The way he said that, “that’s where I can be found…” hit me very deeply, it was very deeply true, full of possibility, the Holy Spirit was there… after this vulnerable story of feeling like a failure, this ending had this little spark of life. It was hopeful.

Some of you know the rest of the story since then… Nate and Micah not only continued but expanded their bread-baking. They have their own bakery, and on Wednesdays, we have bread deliveries here from Brake Bread.

We don’t want to lose anyone or anything we care about… we don’t want to fail, we feel crushed, we can’t see the way forward, we get lost…

But Jesus challenges us and stretches us in this story because too often, our imagination is not as big as God’s imagination.

God is not only the Good Shepherd, but is Our Lady of the Broom. God is that Father that runs out to meet and welcome home the child that was lost. And we sometimes grumble about that because it’s hard to believe that God is that deeply compassionate… we would sometimes rather have God just be fair, particularly in the face of evil, we don’t know what to do.

We weep. We become angry. We resist. We despair.

But God invites us to another set of practices, another way of life so that we may know that we are truly known, that we are beloved, that we are free, that we are found… this is what God does and invites us to join in:
We hope. We forgive. We gather together. We receive communion. We sing. We pray. We serve. We advocate. We act. We seek. We find. We draw in. We belong. We look for the reign of God breaking in. We practice.

I’ll end with this blessing from Jan Richardson – Beloved is Where We Begin[1]

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[1] “Beloved is Where We Begin,” found in Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons by Jan Richardson

Like a tree planted by water

Deuteronomy 30, Psalm 1, and Luke 12  - Cosmos Sunday 

Who are you?

It’s Labor Day weekend, so we might answer the way so many North Americans answer… with our jobs. I’m a pastor. I’m a lawyer. I’m retired. I’m an artist, a musician, a writer. I clean houses. I work in a hospital. I work for 3M or Boston Scientific. Or maybe since it’s back-to-school time, we might answer, I’m a teacher. I’m a student. I’m a weary parent…

Who are you?

Last Sunday, I was in Decorah, Iowa because a college friend had died and in trying to understand what had happened to her, I realized that other close friends were going through major life changes in that same congregation… the whole Decorah community reeling from horrible flooding, our friends packing up boxes after 15 fruitful years there, their pastor grieving the loss of her best friend. It was a kairos moment—the opportune time to be a friend, to be present, to share a meal, to pack some boxes… to reflect on who we have been over the years, crossing paths with them. And then at Monday’s funeral, I kept looking at the family of my friend who had died suddenly—her husband, her kids—and I kept thinking, “Who will they become in view of this deep loss?” True… people are often so much more resilient than we can imagine, life goes on, but I cried a lot looking over at Sarah’s 16-year-old daughter, Anna, and younger Maren and little Stefan… and I’ve been carrying her little leaflet around in my purse. She selflessly ministered to others… and now she’s dead.

Who are you?

It’s Cosmos Sunday, so maybe our imaginations get a little bigger, imagining who we are on this tiny but (as far as we know) uniquely life-giving planet. Who are we in view of the whole cosmos, all God’s handiwork? In one way, we could see ourselves as no more important than a speck of dust, but then… I think of Madeleine L’Engle, an American writer of young adult fiction who won a Newberry Medal for A Wrinkle in Time, whose writings reflected both her Christian faith and her strong interest in modern science. In some of her novels, the characters travel in time and space. In others, they travel to the most microscopic places of the human body. These books captured my imagination, noticing our God who is not only present in the widest parts of the cosmos but in the tiniest mitochondria.

 

It is with all this in mind, that I hear in these Bible readings for today questions about our identity, “Who are we?”

Who are we in view of the words from the prophet in Deuteronomy—

“I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, 20 loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days…” and what would that mean to choose life? Well, to this prophet it meant to follow the Torah, the instructive law, the way of God.

Who are we in view of Psalm 1, which is the Psalm for this Sunday and goes like this:

Psalm 1

Happy [“enviable”[1]] are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; 2 but their delight is in the law of the Lord, and on God’s law they meditate day and night. 3 They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper. 4 The wicked are not so, but are like chaff that the wind drives away. 5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous, 6 for the Lord watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.

What does wicked mean here? Judging life according to their own standards.

What does it mean to be in the company of the righteous? Being with those who rely on God…. until we get there, too.

And right in the middle of that 1^st Psalm—there is an image again (this image that we’ve been focusing on all year, this image that is repeated over and over again throughout the Bible) of the tree, a tree planted by water, roots drinking it in & being nourished, lush leaves, bearing fruit in season…

Who are we? Do we delight in God’s ways? Do we meditate on God’s word day and night?

A Danish Lutheran said, “To meditate on the psalms is … to be ourselves before God, to sing full-throated songs of praise when that is appropriate and to give honest articulation to our despair when we are sad. To present our very ordinary selves, our daily selves, to God, that is the advice of the Psalm.”[2]

Who are we in view of this challenge from Jesus in the words from Luke—

“Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”

Jesus invites followers to form their identity in full view of death and loss, the loss of everything… but this is not just counting the cost…

Caroline Lewis says this:

“When it’s all about cost, it’s all about what you give up. What you sacrifice. What you deny. When faith is cast as cost, we become rather ignorant of the fact that life itself is costly, not just faith. Life is full of choices, of counting the costs, weighing the costs. The cross is not unique but representative of what life is. To carry your cross is to carry the choices and burdens and realities of a life that has made a certain commitment -- a commitment to a way of life that is committed to bringing about the Kingdom of God here and now. That’s certainly what it meant for Jesus.”[3]

“So, carrying your cross is a choice and ironically, it is a choice for life and not death.”

Who are we today? Who will we be?

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[1] Rolf Jacobson, Sermon Brainwave, workingpreacher.org for September 4, 2016

[2] Paraphrasing Kierkegaard, Paul K.-K. Cho, Commentary on Psalm 1 from workingpreacher.org, accessed 9/2/2016

[3] Caroline Lewis, Dear Working Preacher, accessed 9/2/2016

Free to flow

 

River Sunday 

We are about 60% water, unless we are infants and in that case, it’s more like 75% water. So when people say, “Babies bounce,” I’m guessing that if there’s any truth to that, that must be why. Those are two of the little facts I learned this week as I thought about this day – River Sunday – and how intimately we are connected to our closest rivers.

If we live in Saint Paul and throughout whole metro area, our water sources are the Mississippi River and three main aquifers… so it’s at least partially accurate to say that the Mississippi River not only runs to the south of our church, but it is present right here (in us) – we are the Mississippi and it’s health and our health are intimately tied together.

August is a month that is sometimes so hot and dry… usually, I would think of this as a month in which the imagery of Isaiah, “I will….. in parched places...” would be such good imagery. We’re hot and thirsty. God will provide water to quench our thirst. But this August, although we’ve had many hot days, we have also experienced an abundance of rain. Not only here where our grass and plants are green and growing abundantly (did Minnesota suddenly turn into the tropics?) but basements have been flooded… and in other parts of the U.S., the over-abundance of water has been even more serious. In the Gulf Coast Synod of our church, these kinds of messages have been sent this week:

Dear Gulf Coast Synod Leaders,

This morning we began daily check-in calls with our Baton Rouge and Lafayette pastors on the ground and our Disaster Team. Here's what we know:

Twelve dead; fourteen arrested for looting. Thirty thousand rescued and 40,000 homes damaged or destroyed. Authorities have instituted a curfew from 10:00 pm to 6:00 am. There is still water in South Baton Rouge, which will remain there until it is pumped out.

Our congregations, Our Saviour and St. Paul in Baton Rouge and First in Lafayette, and their pastors are all high and dry. St. Paul has 7-8 families flooded. Our Saviour has 14 families who have lost everything. First has 12 families flooded. The congregations are helping their families and also looking to their neighborhoods.

St. Paul and First Christian Church are partnering right now to house and feed Red Cross workers. First is offering gift cards. The Synod Disaster Fund will be available to help support gift cards and possibly a shower house for First, as they host work groups.

They are not ready for volunteers yet, but soon. The number one need will be volunteers to help muck out. We will be organizing some groups to participate in mucking out days. No firms plans yet, but soon. We are considering August 27 and Labor Day weekend.

Donations have been slow. Please consider giving to the Gulf Coast Synod Disaster Fund (http://gulfcoastsynod.org/about/donate/). Things are changing by the minute. Keep up-to-date through our website and Facebook disaster page (https://www.facebook.com/tlgcsdisasterrelief/?ref=hl).

Peace.

Bishop Michael Rinehart (Gulf Coast Synod, ELCA)

And so we might feel like “River Sunday… this week? Is this really the right time?” Or at least I’ve wondered about the timing… and isn’t that just like a religious leader, to wonder about the timing?!

The religious leaders surrounding Jesus’ healing of the bent-over-woman said that same fear aloud in the story we heard today. Sabbath—a day for rest, a day to remember that God’s work and activity are what sustains us (not our constant work and activities, however important they might be…), a day to “be” instead of “do”… this is the Sabbath. And so in one way, I can totally see why they would question people’s timing. Isn’t there another day we could tend to this in order that the Sabbath could really be God’s day? I get their fear, their sense of protection, their wanting to keep a sacred space for Sabbath…

But Jesus reminds these worried, fearful people… who wonder about the right timing, who are fearful about losing sacred times and spaces… that God’s timing is kairos (καιρός) time. For ancient Greek culture, there was chronos (χρόνος) time – that’s clock time, chronological, sequential, scheduled time – and kairos time –  a period or season, a moment of indeterminate time in which an event of significance happens, or we might say, “the opportune moment,” the “just-right” time. And kairos ongoing, eternal…

So, this argument is kind of a chronos/kairos argument. When should healing happen? Jesus reminds them that it is always the right time for God’s healing. It is always the right time for setting a “bent-over” woman free. True… the slippery slope fallacy might make us say (or think) “Don’t break our traditions… because if you make that small change, what will it lead to?… maybe a total erosion of the whole bank, the banks that hold this river to its course, the banks that control and direct the water when the waters get too high…” Maybe, God, we are in the fearful places we are today because You, in the person of Jesus, and in so many other ways… keep breaking all the rules!

Or maybe, it’s not actually our rule-breaking God who is the problem, but it’s our unfair rules for ourselves, for others… rules that keep us from being the people that Jesus and Isaiah imagined…

They imagined us as people who say “No” to some things—pointing the finger, speaking evil, etc., etc.

And we say “No” to those things in order to make space for other ways of being—

Removing heavy yokes, removing burdens that bend people over until they are unable to stand up straight…Feeding the hungry, comforting the afflicted. We’re invited into a life of being people who restore, people who mend, people who heal… and we’re invited to all that because God is the one who models it, so we’ll want to be a part of that work, too.

This week, ten youth and four adults went on an adventure called “Three Days of Awesomeness.” Let me tell you how the first evening of our trip went… One of our drivers happened to turn on the radio and heard the weather report when there was no obvious sign of bad weather. This was incredibly fortunate because he learned that there was a powerful storm on its way, traveling 55 mph, scheduled to arrive at our destination at the same time as us. We had to adjust our plan on the drive, skipping the stop at DQ (disappointing news to most participants…), but when we were 10 minutes from our destination, we could finally see why. A dark green, foreboding cloud was rising up in the west. We kept things light and cheerful but all three drivers were focused, racing this storm. In the last curves, we turned directly into it and the rain began. “Okay, girls, here’s what we’re going to do.” I told my vanload, “We’re going to leave all our stuff in the van, and we’re going to get in the cabin. We’ll get our stuff later.” That’s what we did. Not 15 minutes after our arrival, the wind was whipping and trees began falling. They fell all around us… across the path to the house, across the driveway, across the road. One hundred-year-old trees took down 20- and 50-year-old trees. Whoa! The power flickered once, twice, and then was out. We weren’t scared, actually there was a kind of calm excitement at the time, and we really didn’t know what was happening all around us… but after the storm had passed, after the power company employees had come and gone, restoring power in a fairly quick timeframe, when we walked around at dusk to see the first glimpses of the damage… and the next morning, as we saw the extent of the fallen trees and worked together to clear the driveway… it was only bit by bit that we became more and more in awe and grateful… for the series of what felt like small, insignificant, accidental choices and decisions and timing that allowed us to be completely safe rather than blocked out of the driveway in the storm or  still there, unable to come home, or a variety of other scenarios we wouldn’t even want to imagine…

The cabin was not crushed—only a nick on one small part of the roof. The vehicles were not crushed. Even the Tree Farm sign had trees down all around it, but stood.

In fact, although the one of the workers said, “Oh, you must be heart-broken…”  and indeed, it is heart-breaking to see strong, old, living trees taken down in a storm, as well as formidable to think about the hours and hours of work ahead, we felt like we witnessed so many miracles in a row… far more than we could have asked for or imagined. Neighbors in the area kept pulling up to the driveway and asking Sam, “Where did you get your work crew?” as they noticed our little team of 14 working together and clearing the driveway in record time.  How could we have known that this weekend was the kairos time, the “just right” weekend for us to be there, ready to serve?

It’s true that rivers both sustain us and they are powerful beyond measure… they give us life and they take it away. They are icy cold, refreshing, invigorating… and this is the image that we hold onto not only on this Season of Creation River Sunday, but it is an image that we’re diving deeper into as we imagine how God is calling us to Christ the Tree of Life, whose roots stretch across and deep into the river of the water of life.

We are rooted into God, our source. From God’s living waters we drink… and maybe we can imagine that we become about 60% those waters. We are saint and sinner, we experience loving creativity and fearful brokenness. But it is God’s intention to set us free, free from fear, free to do good, free to flow with love like the river that flows through us.

Tourists Look, Hikers Walk, Pilgrims Search

 

Hebrews 12: 1-2 and Luke 12        

Pastor Joe Lees is a new member of our Bishop’s staff and just last week, he got back from doing an epic journey. 500 miles walking the traditional pilgrimage journey called Camino de Santiago de Compostela, a journey that begins in many places and ends on the west coast of Spain. He had been planning this journey for 3 years; he was invited by his niece… and on that walk he learned this phrase, “Tourists look, hikers walk, pilgrims search.” It’s a journey with no maps. Pilgrims simply follow the trail until they see another sign with a shell or an arrow. Pilgrims are not alone but surrounded by others making this journey… young adults, people turning 50, people at a moment of needing to reimagine their life with intentionality, people hoping to know God better through the challenges and benefits of the journey. Pastor Ralph Baumgartner, who is a member here at Christ (although you may not have seen him very often since he’s been serving as an Interim pastor at Hope this past year) is going to be traveling the Camino beginning in mid-September. On September 11, we will bless and send him… but today, I bring this up because of this Bible image from Hebrews of running in a great race.

It’s a marathon image, and specifically an ancient Greek marathon image. It imagines a huge stadium where all the runners who have finished are surrounding those who are still coming in, who have not yet completed the race, cheering them on…

Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, those who have gone before us, those who still join us around the table each time we share Communion… since there are onlookers, watching us, hoping for us, wishing good for us… let us lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely.

How do we practice that, laying aside the heavy weights, the brokenness, the problems, the barriers within and around us that threaten to bury us? In the gospel from Luke, Jesus says we’re divided. We’re divided in families and across generations, and this is just reality, despite our best efforts to connect.  A colleague shared a joke… “Do you know why grandparents and grandchildren get along so well? Well, because they have a common enemy.” And I thought… I think this will be more funny when I’m about 70 years old. We’re in conflict as church, despite our best efforts for unity. We are divided between those who want most deeply to hold on to our most cherished traditions and those who want most deeply to break new ground. We have many opinions about what are the most important tasks of church and how to best use our time and money. We are divided politically and we experience very different versions of life across our diverse community… we are pressed down, and sometimes, when we are longing for peace, when we are longing for Jesus to be our Prince of Peace, it is unnerving to come on a Sunday and hear Jesus’ words, “I have come not to bring peace but to make people choose sides…” or as it says in another translation, “I have come not to bring peace but with a sword.” What?

But the fact is, when Jesus calls people to follow, there are inevitably ways that we will be called to new life that will cut deep. We will no longer have just the same priorities, we will be called to a way of life that will sometimes be in contradiction with what it seems like “everybody else” is doing… and the fact is that it can be incredibly difficult to discern Jesus’ call, so sometimes, we’ll even disagree about what is going on right now and what in the world we out to be doing… or even praying for in response.

It reminds me of this week’s Olympic games in Rio… on one hand, what an amazing event, in which amazingly talented people from all the world are brought together for games. The stories of this year’s  Refugee team have been particularly moving…  and then on the other hand, there have been a few stories of the deep poverty of those who live around the Olympic sites, on the hillsides… children and adults whose lives are considered worthless and expendable… and a whole nation of citizens who have watched stadiums be built, roads and waterways be sanitized, and all the while, the country is in such a mess that they are working to indict and remove their president.

Easy enough to look at another country… more difficult to see the ways in which our daily life is build on injustices that we have trouble really seeing… ways that we are hypocritical and unable to see what is going on right now that Jesus would describe this way, “I am going to be put to a hard test, and what stress I am under until this work of changing the world is completed.” And if we really do imagine that we are the Body of Christ (which Jesus has said that we are…), this means we could say the same, “We are going to be put to a hard test, and what stress we are under until it is completed.”

What does this look like? Well, I don’t know for sure what it might look like in your life and in our shared life together… but maybe it is going to work each day with perseverance and being salt and light in an environment that is soul-crushing, or maybe it is taking steps to make a change so that your daily life and work is more in line with God’s vision, God’s reign… or maybe it is being faithful to the promises you made at baptism and renewing your commitment to taking up new practices that will help you treat family members, neighbors, and strangers as the beloved children of God that they are (however challenging their current behavior)... or maybe it is taking a risk to give money or time as an act of faith that God will provide… I don’t know but whatever it might be that God is calling each of us to take up or let go of… we do so, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who somehow had such a vision of God’s abundant love that he was even able to endure the cross.

For those of us who want to avoid pain and shame… or who seek it out… I wonder how it changes things that Jesus moved through pain and shame over to the other side? We don’t have to avoid it, or be stuck there, we don’t have to immerse ourselves in it… we move through pain and shame, noticing it, being honest about it, learning… and we follow Christ to a new place, looking to Jesus who the letter to the Hebrews describes “has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.” Like a beacon, like a mountain on an otherwise flat landscape, we look to Jesus who has made it through, and we follow… somehow, mysteriously, holding on to the promise that Christ walks with us as we search.

Life is difficult, filled with distractions, difficulties, divisions… and today we find Jesus wishing for a refining fire, something that would help God’s beloved and frustrating people (that’s us!) to be able to know and to see what is going on… inside and around us. We are called to attention, invited to watch the clouds not only for signs of how the weather is changing, but to recognize how we are not at all alone in our suffering, in our inability, in our challenges. No, others have suffered and are suffering, right next to us.

We look to Jesus, like a mountain by which we can set our course, and we’re invited to continue the search, setting aside every weight, every sin; to walk, to run even… forward where Jesus calls us to go. We aren’t alone. We’re surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, waiting breathlessly to see where we’ll go, Body of Christ, looking to Jesus who is right there with all we need to keep moving until the race is done.

The Meaning of Life

Luke 12: 13-21 and Animal Sunday  

What is life really for? What is the meaning and purpose of life? Even if we weren’t gathering on a Sunday morning as people trying to discover who God is, what Jesus invites us to do with our lives, even if we don’t really grasp the Holy Spirit in our midst… even then, we might still have these deeper questions about what life is about from time to time.

And as we’re divided as a nation, as a globe, and as families about the answers to those persistent questions.  Is life about sharing? Well, sharing is good… but when someone in the crowd says to Jesus, “Hey Jesus, tell my older brother to divide the family inheritance with me!” Jesus doesn’t say anything except he’s not going to judge on that. That feels a little surprising, doesn’t it? Especially if we think that’s mostly what God and church is about… to help us be better people, more loving, more sharing… it seems weird that Jesus won’t weigh in on what seems like a pretty simple justice issue like that. Share with your brothers and sisters—a no-brainer, right?

But instead of giving a common sense kind of answer, Jesus tells a story that digs deeper. The parable is about a rich farmer who has such an enormous harvest that he can’t even fit all the crops in the barns he already has… in that way, he is rich. Finally, finally, he feels like he has enough to “relax, eat, drink, be merry.” He’s been waiting his whole life for this moment, putting off enjoyment until finally, finally, he has more than enough.

But in another way, this parable is about the poorest man we meet in scripture… until his encounter with God that night, there is not one other person in this parable, he is completely isolated. We don’t know if his pursuit of wealth got him to this place of being utterly alone, but we’ve certainly heard stories like that before.  He talks to himself in the third person. There is no apparent thought about who he might share this abundant harvest with… there’s just him. And when God shows up, the conversation is about how this poor guy’s priorities were just utterly messed up.

Hoarding stuff or dividing stuff in order to make up for the relationships that are broken will just never work. That’s the hard truth that rings out in this story. Life is short, too short to give power and meaning to things that are not lasting, but we are surrounded (and evidently, have always been surrounded) by so many voices that tell us something else.

One pastor at text study cited a study from some years back that whatever people’s income level, when polled, they consistently answered that if they just had 30% more than they have right now, they would be alright. Don’t you think that for everyone… from the poorest, the middle (or the new middle) class, to the wealthiest to be convinced that we need just this much more means that we must be drinking that message in constantly, almost like it’s pollution in the water we drink, the air we breathe.

So, how do we live a different story, given that very powerful dominant story of not quite enough, not ever quite enough?

Well, maybe one unexpected answer is in our practices each Sunday…

            We relax, eat, drink, and find reasons to be merry—wait, what?

We breathe in peace, we share a meal, we find reasons for joy… all along the way of life, struggling against isolation by coming together in imperfect community, before we’ve got life all figured out, before we have more than enough…

We share—not only a portion of our resources to do good in the word, but we share our highs and lows, our milestones with one another.

We read a Bible verse or story.

We talk about how the story we’ve read might relate to your highs and lows.

We pray for one another’s highs and lows.

And we bless one another—with a meal, with words and good touch, and words of peace.

Share, read, talk, pray, bless.[1]

It’s what we do on Sundays, but given that powerful counter-stories are in the air and water all around us, maybe Sunday isn’t enough… and so here’s the suggestion I hear this week. We need to do these 5 things—some call them the “Faith 5” every night, in every home. Maybe that means around the supper table or five minutes before bedtime… whenever you have 5 to 15 minutes to give to the others in your home. If you live alone, maybe that means calling up another person from church as a partner in ministry so that everyone that gathers here on Sunday would have the opportunity to listen and be listened to every day of the week. How might that change our lives?

Well, the Faith 5 website says this, “When done over time, the FAITH5™ carries the power to enrich communication, deepen understanding, aid sleep, and promote mental, physical and spiritual health.” Rich Melheim, who developed this resource, pointed out how important the last five minutes of our day is for our brain health. Whatever we are reflecting on during those last minutes, move through neuro-connections all through the night. Those last thoughts each day circle through our dreams; they are with us in wakeful moments throughout the night. So, what if the words and stories of the Bible, the highs and lows of our loved ones, the prayers and blessings we’ve shared were the bedrock of our brain’s work all night? Just that thought alone makes me want to try it…

Add to that, that praying for and blessing one another, holding one another’s hands is vitally important for physical health—and if that sounds weird to do, which it might, if we’re out of practice (or if we’ve never tried it), but physiologically, good words and good touch send positive endorphins throughout our bodies and help cortisol go out our bodies. I’m not sure exactly why or how… but turns out, there’s evidence for that as well. Why would we not want to do that for ourselves, and for those we love? Why wouldn’t we want to practice that, not just on Sundays but every day?

And then, one other detail… think of the time we give each day to other kinds of pursuits, to social media, to TV or news… yes, we’re busy, but are we really too busy for 5 to 15 minutes daily for these activities with the people we love the most? With the God who loves us more deeply than we can even comprehend?

Here’s what I know… my family has tried something like this practice during Advent, and it is powerful and good each year. Why not a daily practice? We’re not too busy to try… and if we try and some days we can’t do it, wouldn’t it be worth it to keep trying for any day we could?

This parable of Jesus about a man who had everything but was about to lose it all, a person who had no one else to share life’s questions with reminds us that there is an urgency to the good news of Jesus Christ… of God’s steadfast love…

We don’t want to be stuck thinking that the meaning of life is about gathering and heaping up a lot of stuff or experiences or whatever else is less important than the body of Christ and the work of Christ… and we need practices that can help us know God and practice faith and community in our lives every day.  Relax, eat, drink, and be merry… that might be one surprising way to think about what we do each week together. The Faith 5 – another possibility for practicing our faith together, with intentionality in a culture that often teaches us to prioritize the wrong things…

In Jesus Christ, we have been set free—to be in relationships where we share, read, talk, pray, bless—and through the power of the Holy Spirit, God invites us discover the meaning in this kind of life.

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[1] The Faith 5 – www.faith5.org and www.faithink.com

God holds the future

Ordination of Wayne Van Kauwenbergh 

Present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God… Be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God… and use the faith and gifts that God has given, gifts that differ from person to person to build up the whole body.

As Paul wrote to the early followers of Christ gathered in Rome, he was not necessarily thinking about this day of your ordination, Wayne, but it certainly seems like a wonderful word for today. As you journeyed to seminary, you brought your whole self. You made dramatic changes to your life, moving across country. You diligently studied in a theology program that is certainly about testing and stretching, renewing and expanding minds, and you have brought your heart, faith, and gifts to the practical side of ministry as well. Although I’m sure that your internship congregation experienced this much more deeply, we’ve had a taste of you sharing your gifts here at Christ as you’ve preached and taught; as you’ve used your truck to bring people to and from worship, carted canned foods to the food pantry, and brought ample baked goods to the CLC Women’s bake sales. You’ve cleaned the nursery; you’ve given generously; you’ve sung in the choir. At least once or twice, you’ve given of yourself and your time with such abundance that along with my gratitude, I’ve wondered how things will be for you as you move into congregations as their pastor. Will you work yourself too hard? Will you be disappointed if people don’t pitch in with the same gusto? Will people drop their tasks into Pastor Wayne’s capable hands and leave you bearing a responsibility too big for any mere mortal to carry? These are the concerns of an overly protective colleague in ministry…

This week with Bishop Narum and 400 church leaders, I have been attending a conference at Luther Seminary called Rethinking Sunday Morning. Church is no longer the church of the 1950s, 60s, 70s, or 80s. The role of pastor is ever-evolving. Here’s what I’ve been re-thinking over these days in this gathered learning community: in view of very quickly changing contexts of ministry, how do we learn and re-learn what our job is as pastors and as the whole people of God… not working harder and harder to try to save those things which are no longer serving Christ’s mission as they once did, but listening in this Spirit-filled moment for how God is calling us to use our diverse, God-given gifts in ancient and new ways.

It seems like no mistake, then, that in the gospel reading you chose for this day, Jesus is sending laborers to every place where he himself intends to go. Jesus invites followers to travel light, an act of dependence on God. Jesus invites us to share peace and accept hospitality of the new communities we enter. Jesus invites us to be healers in their midst. Jesus even says there are consequences for those who don’t welcome God’s disciples, and gives disciples authority to do powerful things, but with this caution…

“Don’t rejoice when you have power over the enemy, over principalities and powers… rejoice that you are claimed by and beloved of God, that your future with God is secure.”

This is for both pastors and all of us, called by God from the moment of baptism. No matter whether we are feeling victorious or dejected, whether we think we are succeeding or failing, no matter whether our work seems fruitful or in vain, we are still claimed by and beloved of God, our future is secure.

Wayne, just as you have entered this community in Saint Paul, and specifically Christ on Capitol Hill, as a student and servant, generously sharing yourself, your time and your skills with this community of faith, now… Christ sends you. You don’t go alone. You don’t go just to fill a gap where a pastor is needed, but you go to re-imagine with the people of the Grenora-Zahl parish of the Western North Dakota Synod how to share peace and hospitality, how to be healers in the midst of a community that is growing and changing. As a newcomer and stranger, for a short window of time, you will have an eye for how newcomers experience the congregations… during this time, you’ll be able to wonder together how long-timers and newcomers can come together and be transformed through Christ who lives in us.

Then, as you get settled in and cultivate trust through sharing in Christ’s ministry of love and service in the world, as you are entrusted with the office of word and sacrament… over time, you will see transformation and you will be transformed. In many small ways, and sometimes in ways that seem very significant, you’ll see God operating in just the ways that Paul describes for the Romans. You’ll see prophecy—the person who had a great vision but had to wait until it was the kairos moment for it to happen (but then it does)! Or you’ll see great teaching—in formal and informal ways. Or you’ll overhear an exhortation—“Pastor, you take that well-deserved vacation!” Or you’ll become aware of an exceptionally generous gift of time or money, a gift that makes you cry. Or, the Council will work through an important decision with incredible respect for the differing views at the table; or the people will surround a family with a newly adopted child or the loss of a spouse with love-in-a-dish, every night of the week. Who knows what wonders lie ahead? And I don’t mean to sugar-coat what can sometimes be a hard and lonely calling… after all, Jesus does also say, “I’m sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves.” There will be times like that, too. There are ways in which pastors, who are by definition temporary (however devoted, however loved)…they are always strangers, travelers, reminders to the gathered community that God shows up in many, not just one.

But… as I have gotten to know you, and resiliency and humbleness that you already show, I imagine that gratitude will be one of the best gifts you share with your congregations over the years you serve with them. Gratitude for these moments of the body of Christ being the body of Christ, gratitude for God’s leading and guiding you to places where Jesus intends to show up (and is already), gratitude that your name (and the names of the people you will serve—including those who are not there yet) are written in heaven.

That is good news as we move into a future that is unknown—that God holds the future—and that just as God has been faithful through each twist and turn of the past, just as God is faithful today, God will be faithful into the future. Do not fear.

As we gather around you today to pray for the Holy Spirit to rest on you, Wayne; and then as we share a meal around the table where you will share with us the body and blood of Christ; we rejoice that God has called you to offer your whole self, your life, your faith and gifts and has called you to do that with the people of Grenora-Zahl. God with good courage, knowing that God’s hand is holding you and God’s love supporting you through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Teach us to pray

Wilderness Sunday

Here’s the story—in a certain place, Jesus was praying. Midway through Jesus’ ministry, midway through the disciples’ journey with this amazing teacher, they notice… Jesus prays, and amazing things happen. And suddenly, they’re filled with curiosity. Huh! I wonder… I wonder if we could do that?

You know, John taught his disciples to pray… why not us?

It reminds me of a story that I heard this summer about the great musician and teacher Shinichi Suzuki. He had an adult student whose 3-year-old son came to listen to his violin lesson and soon, this tiny child was begging to play the violin, so much so that his father asked Dr. Suzuki if he could teach him. At first, Dr. Suzuki was skeptical. How could a 3-year-old play the violin? It’s a very complicated instrument. But as he thought about it, he realized that 3-year-olds could speak Japanese, a very complicated language. How did they do it? They watched, they imitated, they learned bit by bit. And so he began to break down the tasks of playing violin into parts so small that with practice, even a 3-year-old could begin. This week, set your feet. Got that? Now this next week, we'll move the bow up like a rocket, down like the rain… later we’ll hold a box under the chin. My mother-in-law, a violinist an violin teacher herself, describes how she was skeptical about tiny children playing until in 1985 she met Dr. Suzuki, and heard him teach, and suddenly, she saw the Suzuki method in a whole new light, realizing how it used the gifts that children already bring to help them do amazing things.

I imagine this is what it must have felt like when Jesus taught the disciples to pray. It’s not that these ideas didn’t exist before this moment. The prayer that Jesus taught is actually a beautiful compilation and distillation of ideas that are all throughout the Jewish scriptures and would have been present in Jewish life… but Jesus gathers them together, and teaches them in a way that opens up an accessible relationship with God in a beautiful, fresh way.

From the waters of Baptism, from the moment we receive the bread, from the first moment of prayer (whether musical, spoken, or danced) God invites us into a new, fresh relationship, with God… and then with all of humanity and all creation. Lutherans are fond of saying, this is God’s call to people from birth, from baptism, this is God’s lifelong call to each of us. Whether we feel qualified and capable or not, God calls people and makes us capable. Each one of us, as we go out from worship, might be the only gospel that a neighbor or stranger hears… so the call to us all is vitally important.

God’s call, God’s love, God’s abundance can be difficult to believe when we’re in the wilderness.  Some of us have felt deeply in the wilderness this week… through the extreme heat of summer, through the words being thrown around in our political life, through personal struggles, deep grief that goes on and on, through painful recovery from injury or accident…. Through poverty and hard work for little money… through worries about lay-offs and trying to find new work… through anticipation of life-changing events that are ahead… our lists go on and on… it is easy to get in touch with the metaphorical, mental and emotional wildernesses of our days.

And… some of us can also bring to mind easily the beautiful wilderness that we also celebrate today… being outside, way outside, where all those difficulties that I just mentioned fade to the back burner because frankly, when you’re way out in the wilderness, in a canoe or hiking a mountain pass… some things are simpler, more basic. Do we have food, shelter, safety through the night? And it can be a gift, when those things are in place, and things are just… simplified.

Whether you’re moving through a difficult wilderness time or a stunningly stark and beautiful wilderness time, there will almost certainly be days and weeks and months when you will breathe deep and wonder about God in all this?

As Jesus teaches followers about prayer, Jesus promises that God is fully and actively present with you right where you are, even when it’s deep in the wilderness. Jesus says this about prayer.

Knock, and the door will be opened to you.

Seek, and you will find.

Ask, and it will be given to you.

And there will most certainly be times when you’ll think in sadness and doubt, “I just wish I could believe that!”

Jesus is making an amazing claim about God—that God is right here waiting to open, to reveal, to give not only we really need but even the desires of our hearts.

Even though we keep forgetting about God, worrying about God, imagining God shaking a finger at us, or laughing at our mistakes… Even if we say the false mantra “be careful what you pray for!” (as if God is ready to fool or punish or give us a poisonous snake or a stinging scorpion)… Jesus claims that God is not like that at all.

In sharp contrast to our experiences of betrayal in life, God gives good gifts. A fish, not a snake. An egg, not a scorpion. Bread enough for today, forgiveness of our debts, and opportunities to practice forgiveness. God persistently gives good gifts, when we’re right at home, and when we’re going off to adventures unknown.

So, what can we pray for you today? What wilderness are you in or are you facing—a hard wilderness journey? An exciting wilderness trip ahead? We practice praying Jesus’ prayer nearly every Sunday (and we will today, too) but we also need opportunities to pray for specific things together. What are your unmet needs? What door are you knocking on? What are you seeking? What are you asking today? Turn to a neighbor and tell them one short response to any of those questions where a response came to your mind…

What did you learn? Take a minute to commit to your mind the one prayer that you’ll pray for the neighbor you spoke with each day this week.

It’s a gift to have the opportunity to get together here with a beautiful variety of people and hear a different story here than the ones that dominate the rest of our week… here, we learn a counter-story and that good news centers around a giving and thoroughly loving God, a God who bows to us and teaches us to honor one another.

We give thanks to Christ who has taught us to pray so simply and so completely… so that we can grow to embody and preach and teach that good news. We give thanks to God who will provide open spaces, questions, answers, and gifts in new and fresh ways. We give thanks to the Holy Spirit who calls us to go out each day with good courage, knowing that God’s hand is leading and God’s love is supporting us through Christ our Lord. Thanks be to God.

Teach us to pray (A)

 

Ordination of Carol Seilhymer

Good afternoon, let me begin with a few words of thanks. I am so grateful to Carol and Steve for this invitation to preach on this milestone day in your life, and I’m so grateful to Pastor Mark (Ziemann) for welcoming me to have this role today. It was a joy to serve LCP as your interim pastor a few years back, and to work with Carol here at that time; and now, it’s a joy to be your neighbor… a close enough neighbor to run into you from time to time and get to celebrate days of celebration with you. So, thank you.

Here’s the story of Jesus that Carol has chosen for this day—in a certain place, Jesus was praying. Midway through Jesus’ ministry, midway through the disciples’ journey with this amazing teacher, they notice… Jesus prays, and amazing things happen. And suddenly, they’re filled with curiosity. Huh! I wonder… I wonder if we could do that?
You know, John taught his disciples to pray… why not us?

It reminds me of a story that I heard this summer about the great musician and teacher Shinichi Suzuki. He had an adult student whose 3-year-old son came to listen to his violin lesson and soon, this tiny child was begging to play the violin, so much so that his father asked Dr. Suzuki if he could teach him. At first, Dr. Suzuki was skeptical. How could a 3-year-old play the violin? It’s a very complicated instrument. But as he thought about it, he realized that 3-year-olds could speak Japanese, a very complicated language. How did they do it? They watched, they imitated, they learned bit by bit. And so he began to break down the tasks of playing violin into parts so small that with practice, even a 3-year-old could begin. This week, set your feet. Got that? Now this next week, we'll move the bow up like a rocket, down like the rain… later we’ll hold a box under the chin. My mother-in-law, a violinist an violin teacher herself, describes how she was skeptical about tiny children playing until in 1985 she met Dr. Suzuki, and heard him teach, and suddenly, she saw the Suzuki method in a whole new light, realizing how it used the gifts that children already bring to help them do amazing things.

I imagine this is what it must have felt like when Jesus taught the disciples to pray. It’s not that these ideas didn’t exist before this moment. The prayer that Jesus taught is actually a beautiful compilation and distillation of ideas that are all throughout the Jewish scriptures and would have been present in Jewish life… but Jesus gathers them together, and teaches them in a way that opens up an accessible relationship with God in a beautiful, fresh way.

This is what you, Carol, will be asked to do… to teach and preach, to administer the sacraments, to help open up an accessible relationship with God in a beautiful, fresh way, and you are and will be wonderful at it.

But this is not only Carol’s task as she becomes pastor. You know this because you’ve walked with Carol on the days up to this day… she’s been practicing this for quite awhile, and she’s been doing it in communities where many are called to do this… not just those ordained to the ministry of word and sacrament.

From the waters of Baptism, from the moment we receive the bread, from the first moment of prayer (whether musical, spoken, or danced) God invites us into a new, fresh relationship, with God… and then with all of humanity and all creation. Lutherans are fond of saying, this is God’s call from birth, from baptism, this is God’s lifelong call to each of us. Whether we feel qualified and capable or not, God calls people and makes us capable. And that’s not to minimize at all the reason we’re gathered here today, to celebrate this intentional Word and Sacrament ordained ministry that Carol has prepared to do and will do in Montana, but it’s just to say that God calls pastors and God calls us all. Carol is called to preach the gospel, using words when necessary,[1] and each one of us, as we go out from worship, might be the only gospel that a neighbor or stranger hears… so the call to us all is vitally important.

God’s call, God’s love, God’s abundance can be difficult to believe when we’re in the wilderness. As someone embarking on a great adventure to the west…Montana’s northwestern parts with mountain ranges in view… leaving to serve congregations that are most certainly different than here, where you have been loved and nurtured… As someone going as a stranger into the wilderness of ministry…. There will almost certainly be days and weeks and months when you will breathe deep and wonder where is God in all this?

In those moments, you may think back to times at Lutheran Church of Peace, Prairie Star ministries, and Redeemer Lutheran Church in White Bear Lake, and you’ll remember them as havens of goodness and abundance… sometimes, if we aren’t sucked into nostalgia or escapism, the memory of God’s faithfulness in the past can ground us as new challenges emerge.

But what will really sustain you is not only the memory of God’s faithfulness in these beloved places of your past, but the promise that God is fully and actively present with you right where you are, even when it’s deep in the wilderness. Jesus says this about prayer.

Knock, and the door will be opened to you.

Seek, and you will find.

Ask, and it will be given to you.

And there will most certainly be times when you’ll think in sadness and doubt, ”I just wish I could believe that!”

Jesus is making an amazing claim about God—that God is there waiting to open, to reveal, to give not only we really need but even the desires of our hearts.

Even though we keep worrying about God, imagining God shaking a finger at us, or laughing at our mistakes… Even if we say the false mantra “be careful what you pray for!” (as if God is ready to fool or punish or give us a poisonous snake or a stinging scorpion)… God is not like that at all. In sharp contrast to our experiences of betrayal in life, God gives good gifts. A fish, not a snake. An egg, not a scorpion. Bread for today, forgiveness of our debts, and opportunities to practice forgiveness. God persistently gives good gifts, when we’re right at home, but maybe especially when we’re going off to adventures unknown. Carol, as you are ordained today and become officially a pastor in our midst… as you head to Montana to offer your gifts with the people of First Lutheran in Plains and Our Saviour’s In Thompson Falls, we give thanks to Christ who has taught you to pray so that you can embody and preach and teach that good news. We give thanks to God who will provide open spaces, questions, answers, and gifts in new and fresh ways. We give thanks to the Holy Spirit who calls you to go out with good courage, knowing that God’s hand is leading and God’s love is supporting you. Thanks be to God.

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[1] Words from St. Francis