Pastor Professes

FEBRUARY 2012

A new year brings transitions. A milestone birthday. Engagement. New partner. A job loss. Lowered expectations in a relationship. A friendship or relationship that shifts. Illness and recovery. Death. Divorce. Graduation. Moving. Retiring. Switching jobs. You can add to the list, I am sure! Along with the uncertainty that transitions bring, they also provide new insights and opportunities. Transitions include grief and celebration.

Our Psalmists seem to “get it.” In many Psalms considered to be Psalms of lament, the psalm ends with a declaration of faith, a statement of hope or trust. As if the psalmist knows there is relief or help around the corner. Check out Psalm 130 or Psalm 102 (especially the first two and last four verses); or Psalm 86:1-7, 17; or Psalm 22:1-2; 24-28.

A month into a new year, barely into a new liturgical season (Epiphany) which will soon transition into Lent, I was reminded of a book someone introduced to me in the mid 1990s. Transitions: Strategies for Coping with the Difficult, Painful and Confusing Times in Your Life, by William Bridges. Who knows if it is even still in print? Like many of the books I am drawn to, there is no magic formula for AVOIDING transitions and the accompanying stress – but there are ways to make sense of them and to move forward in hope and joy!

Bridges breaks a transition into three stages:

Endings. Losses. We might even mark them with a ritual. “Considering that we have to deal with endings all our lives, most of us handle them poorly. This is because we misunderstand them and take them either too seriously (confusing them with finality) or not seriously enough (we avoid, “Let bygones be bygones.”).  During this time we are challenged to disengage from previous realities, re-identify ourselves, and re-orient ourselves.

The Neutral Zone. A virtual “timeout,” fallow, seemingly unproductive time (like the seed that is buried but not yet sprouted). Feel empty and the ground seems unstable in life. A time for reflection and renewal that can include some alone time.

A new beginning. Going beyond tolerance and survival to launch new priorities and move into the future. This is more than perseverance, and this is not someone’s defensiveness toward an ending. A real new beginning includes taking things step by step and not being too invested in results.

As you live through your transitions, take your responses and prayers to God, who can handle ANY response! Trust that God is with you, loving you through it. Then hold on to your hat as you travel into the next stage – renewed and hopeful! Me? I will keep drawing summer flowers from my garden until I can finally transition into Springtime!

 Grace, peace, and love

JANUARY 2012

Great things come from small beginnings! A baby is our Savior, Jesus Christ. Ordinary shepherds are the first evangelists on behalf of our Savior – taking the news back to the hills. A common carpenter is our Savior’s adoptive father on earth. CLC started small and humbly. And even your current pastor was once a little girl wanting to do everything, “All my byedie self!” (All by myself). As CLC outgrew its original space, so I outgrew the urge to go it alone!

On the brink of a new year, I chose a new name for this column. PASTOR PROFESSES.

To profess is to affirm, declare; to take the vows of a religious order. (Webster’s II New Riverside University Dictionary) Long before we met (but not TOO long ago) on October 2, 2000, I publicly took vows and was ordained as a pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. I vowed that:

• The church’s call is God’s call to ministry.
• I will preach and teach according to Holy Scripture, the Lutheran Confessions, and the Creeds.
• I will be diligent in my study of Scripture and in my use of “the means of grace” (our sacra-ments – Baptism and Holy Communion).
• I will pray for you, God’s people; nourish you with the Word and Sacraments, and lead by example.
• I will give faithful witness in the world to God’s love.

Someone once told me that the minute we make a promise, we set ourselves up to fail; that is, to break the promise. I disagree! I think promises hold us to a higher standard, fallible though we are. Perhaps promises made publicly “stick” longer – hopefully forever! Baptismal promises; confirmation promises; promises of commitment and marriage, ordination. Each one celebrated, witnessed and professed in public. Each one includes elements of partnership, support, encouragement, faith, and love.

In the letter of call, issued to me by Christ’s Lutheran and attested by the Synod, council officers, on behalf of ALL of you, pledged to me prayers, love, esteem, and personal support. Wow! Alongside the promises I make, what a great way to enter a relationship! What a wonderful reminder of how we are connected. I can think of no better way to begin a new year than revisiting and renewing our promises!

On January 18, 1903, a few people joined Pastor J. Eugene Dietterich around a pot-bellied stove to talk about their hopes and dreams. In the year to come, Christ’s Lutheran would be born on Plymouth Avenue by 20 charter members, purchasing a former Methodist Church to be her first home. (On January 18, 2009, you voted to call me as your pastor. Thanks be to God!) On November 5, 1903, the Ambler Gazette reported, “The congregation has just bought the Methodist Chapel and will repair and dedicate it as a Lutheran Church. The membership is active and united and doing good service.” (From CLC 100 Years History by Sarah Klos). One hundred and nine years later, it is still true, only even far more reaching! You are active, united, and do-ing good service. Amen! Let it be so – in the new year, and for years to come!

Peace and appreciation

DECEMBER 2011

So what do a hymn from Tanzania and Martin Luther have in common? “Calling,” used as
noun AND verb!

“Listen! Listen God is calling, through the word inviting, offering forgiveness, comfort and
joy.” (Copyright 1968, Lutheran Theological College, Tanzania)

God IS calling, during the holiday season and always. Calling us back. Calling us closer. Inviting us to faith and fellowship. And, in turn, promising forgiveness, comfort and joy! This issue of LINK invites you to sing carols together, to make advent wreaths, to serve the homeless, to gather for worship and celebration. God is calling, and the call is inclusive and welcoming and sincere. How will you respond?

As we enter Advent and move each week closer to Bethlehem – while considering the promise that Christ who came as child will come again … Let us listen to what Martin Luther said in a  Christmas sermon about “calling.” Each of us is called by God. Called first to faith, and given salvation as a gift. Called to be God‟s hands and heart on earth, whatever our vocation. Luther's text was a verse from Luke‟s nativity account: “There were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field keeping watch over their flock by night.”

“Common sense calls it low-down work. But the evangelist lauds the angels because they proclaimed their message only to shepherds. These were real sheepherders. And what did they do? They stayed in their station and did the work of their calling. They were pure in heart and content with their work. Next to faith this is the highest art – to be content with the calling in which God has placed you.” (From Martin Luther‟s Christmas Book, edited by Roland Bainton)

Luther‟s understanding, which was radical at the time, was that no one calling is more important than another. The calling to be a parent is as important as the calling to be a CEO. The calling to be a soldier, a teacher, a student, a shepherd, is no less important than serving even as Pope.

After the angels had spoken, and the shepherds had seen the baby, “The shepherds returned, praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told to them.”

“Scripture says plainly that they returned and did exactly the same work as before,” Luther
writes. “They did not despise their service, but took it up again where they left off with all fidelity.”

During this holy season, may you hear God calling. May you consider how your vocation, and
your perspectives honor God. May God shower you with mercy as you remain faithful to your
calling – to be faithful in a faithless world, to serve God in whatever you do.

“Glory to God in the highest! And on earth, peace.”

NOVEMBER 2011

“For the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof.” (I Corinthians 10:26)

Even as my allergies change with the change of seasons, I am struck by how many metaphors for life and faith are gifted to us through nature. We are leaving summer behind – a time when we literally pack our baggage and travel. At the same time, we live a freer life – free to be casual, free to explore different schedules, free to do or read what we have been putting off. Also a season of surprises – we expect sunny dry days and experience floods. So too we may expect one thing from our faith and discover something entirely different.

“I saw old autumn in the misty morn stand shadowless like silence, listening to silence.” (Thomas Hood)

Autumn/Fall is not far behind. A gorgeous change of the season – fleeting one year and more prolonged in another year, reminding us that God the Creator is an inspiring artist, giving us colors we only see at one time during the year. The season is challenging, as schedules fill up and families go in a thousand directions and schedules change. Does faith get lost in the shuffle? The season can be a challenge for those who thrive on sunshine. It can be hard for those who are letting go. Sending the child to Kindergarten, watching the teen drive away alone, taking the oldest to college. It is a season of letting go, and we resist. To let go is to begin to embrace change.

Nature invites us to see letting go as a normal part of the life cycle. Can we let go of the past and embrace the present as we plan for the future? Can we let go and embrace new ideas, new tenets of faith? The river birch in my backyard – a gorgeous blend of colors one day, drops most of its leaves the next. There is no grief. No resistance. There is no sense of hopelessness in the letting go – it is part of a life cycle and we know even as the last tree is bear, we know springtime will bring new life, new colors, new possibilities. We cannot stop the “letting go” process any more than a tree can keep the same leaves from season to season.

“The poetry of earth is never dead.” (John Keats)

In the church year, we seem to go from fall to winter in the blink of an eye. It is a stark, bare season. But also the season to draw close around a fire. A season where the first snowfall brings a hush to the neighborhood and invites us to slow down. We can’t avoid winter, any more than we can avoid the stark, tough times when it is hard to hang on to faith, when warmth and growth seem distant. If we did not know better, we would think that nature had died and there was nothing better to come. It is a season of waiting. A season of supreme trust. As children are waiting for Christmas, we all are awaiting the coming of Christ. Though all looks dark, we trust that the light is coming in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it.

“The heavens declare the glory of God.” (Psalm 19:1)

There’s always that first warm day – when crocuses show their buds and we rush to find our shorts. But spring has its own surprises – an early heat wave, a late snow. Expecting all buds and bulbs to bloom, forgetting that some take time off! A season where nature reminds us that all things become new and fresh. That no matter how dark or dormant faith might seem, there is hope. Our greatest hope, of course, is in the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. It may culminate on Easter Sunday, but it is celebrated each and every week. Every time we gather in worship, we celebrate the resurrection. No matter where we are in life or faith – holding on, feeling cold or dormant, experiencing the energetic warmth of community, we light candles to remind us of God’s presence, we sing our praises, are challenged by scripture and fed by the very One who rose from the dead.

Join us on Sundays – or Mondays for Chosen 300 or Wednesdays for Wonderful Wednesday – or any of the other times we are invited to gather. Whatever life is handing you, at CLC it is always a celebration of life, hope and grace – a celebration of Easter!

Grace and peace,

OCTOBER 2011

Probably not surprising that my thoughts and attention have been drawn toward water. Perhaps you too have images, stories, and first-hand experiences with Hurricane Irene and the unexpected storm that followed.

Things floating in the basement. An inch of mud in the garage. Daily counting fish in the pond, just to be sure they are all there! Roads blocked. Emergency sirens going off. Power outages. School delays. Sounds of the sump pump working 24/7. Not to be taken lightly, Irene came with warnings, evacuations, stocking up, avoiding windows – but the next round of storms caught us totally off-guard.

Water has been, in my life, a source of fun, relaxation, and renewal. A dip in a friend’s pool, a day watching the tide at the shore, a cold drink of water after yardwork. But recent storms also show us the destructive force of water … overturned cars, flooded houses, and collapsed buildings. Trapped drivers, mudslides, and lives lost.

Maybe it’s the Lutheran in me that can’t think of water without thinking of Baptism – a sacrament that brings salvation – a joyous worship celebration no matter the age of the candidate. Yet even in our liturgy, we are reminded of destruction and renewal. Death and life. “By water and the word, God delivers us from sin and death and raises us to new life in Jesus Christ. We are united with all the baptized in the one body of Christ.” (ELW, p. 227) In the prayer of thanksgiving at the font, we are reminded that Noah and his family were delivered from flood waters (but countless more perished). We are reminded that the Israelites were led into freedom through the sea, where their enemies perished.

Martin Luther, in a 1540 sermon, said, “He (Jesus) accepted it (baptism) from John for the reason that he was entering into our stead, indeed our person, that is …taking upon himself the sins which he had not committed, and wiping them out, drowning them in his holy baptism.” (Luther’s Works Vol. 51 p. 315). Jesus, without sin, was baptized for us, declared to be God’s son, and commanded us also to baptize. To drown sin and to rise, dripping with salvation, to new life in God.

Luther admitted that we would still grow to have doubts and questions, but returning to our baptism, claiming the promises again, might give us assurance. ‘The devil says, ‘Behold you are weak, how do you know that God is gracious to you? Then the Christian must say, I am baptized, and by the sacrament I am incorporated into Christ.” (Luther’s Works Vol. 54 p. 86)

So even as we deal with destructive aftermath and sorrow following floods – we remember how God drowned our sin in baptism and gave us new life. And even my over-soaked yard reminds me that hope is found in new life. Since the rains, plants are blooming that did not last year and birds are drinking out of puddles.

When the next storm comes, literally or figuratively, remember the water. Remember you are baptized! You belong to God! You have been washed in the blood of Jesus and given life and salvation. And nothing, no tragedy or disaster, or even death, can take that precious gift away from you.

Thanks be to God, who daily showers blessings upon us!

SEPTEMBER 2011

Between the daily work, the personal processing, the hours of prayer for participants, my journaling time this summer was in fits and starts – Sometimes just words or phrases! Vacation followed soon after Guatemala and re-entry left me excitedly restless.  I share with you those words and phrases in the spirit of St. Augustine who said, “My heart is restless until it rests in Thee.”

Sounds of Summer Travel

·   Police siren after we set off the church alarm the morning we left for Guatemala.

·   Random chatter and excitement of mission trip participants.

·   Rapid-fire but warm greetings in Spanish.

·   Feet stomping cob – cob hitting walls – quarter grinder cutting bottles – trash crinkling as it goes into walls – gravel being shoveled – cement being mixed.

·   Excited, babbling, dancing children at the school.

·   The click of cameras.  Random, soothing strums on the guitar.

·   Price negotiations at the Antigua market.

·   Welcome home! (from U.S. Customs)

·   “Aunt Katy Fred, Aunt Katy Fred” greeting me as I arrived in South Carolina.

·   Pelicans diving for lunch.

·   The babble over family meals with 13 people.

·   Story hour on the floor above me.

Sights of Summer Travel

·   Vertical farmland.

·   Volcanoes in the distance.

·   Curious young eyes peeking at us on the way to and from work.

·   Sudden, deluge of rain turning a street into a river.

·   The familiar worship rhythm of Catholic mass.

·   Lunch feasts – one better than the last.

·   Participants spilling over a hill for a photo.

·   A huge ravine – the dumping site.

·   Nieces’ and nephews’ new height.

·   Jumping and diving for balls in a pool.

·   Gates, landmarks, bustle of Charleston, SC where my grandmother was raised.

·   Recognizable landmarks from the plane window.

Coming home urges me to ponder the definition of home. Is it where the bills arrive? Is it where we sleep at night? Is it where our hearts are?  If all three are true, I can honestly say my home is Fort Washington, San Juan Comalapa, the Carolinas, and wherever our youth are! Scripture speaks of another home – “In my Father’s house there are many mansions…”  (from John 14). Each time we gather, on mission trips, on vacation, for worship – we experience just a tiny glimpse of home. Where all are welcome. Where all are loved. Where reconciliation and honest conversation trump silence. In the body and blood of Jesus Christ our Lord, we are united – we receive his forgiveness, strength, and salvation – we proclaim his identity and ours. No matter the location, native language, definition of home or definition of family, Christ is at the center.

We welcome this fall Julie Stumpf as our new seminarian. She is single mother of three, from Baltimore, with a former career in education. For the time she is here, Julie and her kids become part of the Christ’s Lutheran family. Welcome!

As we resume our program year, our family celebrates and grows (even as we mourn the loss of Louise Kershner and Neut Prath) – baptisms and weddings are planned. Neighbors are asking about our welcome to former Catholics. Letters are going to folks who just moved into the area – maybe even near you!

May those who come through our doors find a welcome and a home.

And you too. May you find peace and strength.

Welcome home!

JULYL/AUGUST 2011

It seems that in the blink of an eye, we are back in the months of summer. Summer, to me,
means: VBS, Mission Trip, Vacation, Planning for Fall, Finishing my Weeding (yes, I am behind n that!).

Summer, in the church, is part of a long non-festival liturgical season – the Season after Pentecost. It last 24 weeks (up until Christ the King Sunday) and is marked by the color green. Pastors often tease each other about not only the length of the season, but the number of green stoles we own for the season. (I have 6)!

Though often overlooked or underrated, this Season after Pentecost is a time of growth – in
nature and, I pray, in faith. The season highlights the work of the Holy Spirit in our daily lives.
More specifically, this year, the gospels we read during the season serve as a summary of Jesus’  earthly ministry. We will hear how to receive a prophet, parables, miracles, and we will
wrestle with the question of Jesus’ identity, through both Peter’s and Jesus’ eyes.

Just as the Spirit infused those gathered on Pentecost with new energy, new life, new creativity  may the Spirit do the same for each of you in this season that follows. The hymn of the day we sang on Pentecost Sunday will be my prayer this summer, for CLC and each of you!

Wherever your summer takes you, know that God goes with you. Worship wherever you are –
bring bulletins back to CLC – you never know where a new idea will come from! Continue to
send in your offerings – as our work and ministry at CLC continues even when you are away.
Who knows, the Spirit might send us visitors who are traveling on THEIR vacations!

In a blink of an eye it will be Advent again and we will move toward Christmas. Come join us
this summer as we live and grow in faith together.

Grace and peace,

Pastor Kay

JUNE 2011

By the time you read this, Pentecost will be just around the corner, and we will pray once more, ―Come, Holy Spirit!‖ Come among us to inspire, motivate, and advocate for us! Come among us and strengthen us to be a creative, relevant presence in the world. Come among us and intercede in prayer when words fail us.

But in the meantime, how wonderful that Easter is not just one day but a full, seven-week season in the church! We celebrate the Risen and Living Christ again and again. We celebrate as leaves fill the trees, sweaters are stored, and graduations are marked. We celebrate as we prepare for a mission trip or vacation or attend or hear news of Synod Assembly. We celebrate life all around us. We celebrate the gift of life given to us!

In this Easter season at CLC there is so much to celebrate! The baptisms of two children; the confirmations of Kelli Bray, Grace Lightcap, and Abby Uehling; the welcoming of new members. All by the grace of God through the work of the Holy Spirit in the season of Easter. If that is not enough to affirm life, to affirm God‘s presence among us, I don‘t know what is! The celebrations in our homes are reason to pray our thanks as well: graduations, pending weddings, Mother‘s Day, and Father‘s Day … Sandwiched between the church festivals
of Easter and Pentecost is the reality that every DAY is a celebration of life. Every Sunday is a celebration of the resurrection.
"Now all the vault of heaven resounds in praise of love that still abounds: Christ has triumphed! He is living!
Now still he comes to give us life and by his presence stills all strife. Christ has triumphed! He is living! Alleluia." (ELW #367, Now All the Vault of Heaven Resounds)

Life‘s challenges do not disappear, but are still with us, during Easter, Pentecost, and every time in between.We do not get a break from grieving deaths or rising flood waters or dealing with injuries or wondering about failure or finances. In our synod, a balanced budget was just approved – possible in part because of staff reductions and the reduction of grants to various agencies. Positive and negative in one action. Presenting that news, Bishop Claire Burkat told delegates, "The temptation is to look wistfully or regretfully back. The desire to predict
(or protect from) the future is compelling. Let us focus on the present. God works among us, with us, through us, and in spite of us!'

This LINK recalls the life and death of Pastor John Scherch, the faith statements of our confirmands, Dick Reimet‘s 32 years as Synod treasurer, and a look toward Vacation Bible School! It offers a summary of Synod Assembly and a celebration of the ministries that benefited from the sale of the parsonage. Death and life. Somber moments and celebrations. All shared by those with us on the faith journey … our family in Christ.

However your life is unfolding when you read this, God is present. Whatever you are celebrating or worrying about, it is all the more reason to join your brothers and sisters in the weekly celebration of the resurrection! To stand with others who also sing, "Christ has triumphed! He is living!"

Come, Holy Spirit!

Grace, peace, and praise

MAY 2011

Let the whole creation cry, “Glory to the Lord on high!” Heav’n and earth, awake and
sing, “Praise to our almighty king!” (ELW # 876, Let the Whole Creation Cry)

As I write this, rain is falling and the air is cool, just a day after it topped 80 degrees! With the
hint of summer, I enjoyed some time by my backyard pond. The fish were zooming around,
seemingly playing chase. The birds were a bit territorial about who got a turn when at the
feeder. Daffodils and hyacinths were in full bloom, and buds were beginning to show up on the trees. Molly was content to patrol and secure the perimeter, pausing occasionally to sniff the warm air, nose to the sun. A bunny even visited momentarily!

It was as if, truly, all of creation was joining to praise God! It might seem strange at first to consider ALL of creation praising God … trees, animals, fish, flowers. So much of what unfolds is instinct, and the natural change of the seasons. Yet I can imagine all of creation joining to thank the creator as days warm and nature blooms. Some of our Psalms proclaim the same thing as the hymn. “Let the whole creation cry, “Glory!”

I love this time of year! This season of resurrection and alleluias, which comes as a blessing on the heels of Good Friday. A season of “spring fever,” when students wear their shorts, proclaiming summer is around the corner, and they bargain with teachers for more outdoor time! A season when all of creation seems to praise The Creator! “Let the whole creation cry, “Glory to the Lord on high!” Heaven and earth, awake and sing, “Praise to our almighty king!” (ELW # 876, Let the Whole Creation Cry)

Thanks be to God for the gift of Jesus Christ, the gift of resurrection, the gift of new life.

Grace, peace, and praise,

Pastor Kay

APRIL 2011

Only one week into Lent I began to realize how strong our mixed feelings are this time of year. There is excitement about our soup suppers and the theme, "Way into the Word" a look at scripture through methods from other traditions. At the same time, I have heard, "I’m not an ashes person," and "Those hymns are too dark, Pastor. I don’t like them."

Welcome to the reality of Lent. A time when we ―put away‖ the alleluias, the hymn of praise, and the altar flowers, to represent a penitent, reflective season. A time when the ashes connect our baptism and God’s promise to be with us, to the frailty of life. A time when buds are on the trees but yes, hymns and scriptures are often dark and pensive. But, it’s also a time when we celebrate communion weekly – a tangible reminder that we are forgiven, strengthened, and belong to God.

It may feel strange … and it may feel uncomfortable because, truth be told, we are resurrection people who focus on the empty cross and empty tomb. But the empty cross and empty tomb have no meaning without Christ’s suffering and death. If we otherwise came upon an empty grave, we would just assume it had never been used. Our beliefs take us higher and deeper than that. Christ did really suffer. Christ did really die. He was really placed in a tomb. His death is what makes Easter, and alleluias and hymns of praise mean more during the rest of the year.

It is tempting to rush things. I find myself these days wanting to rush spring. Longing for the warmth and the flowers and the green leaves. Longing to sit by the pond on my day off (without my winter coat!) One morning coming into work I saw blooming daffodils beside the sidewalk. By late morning, as I headed out for a home communion visit, it was sleeting.

Nature itself seems in between seasons. Wait five minutes and the forecast changes! Buds are out on one tree and not another. And it seems to me an uncomfortable reminder, that, as much as I’d love to, as much as I long for spring, I cannot rush it. I cannot rush the season.

Neither can I skip Lent and rush to Easter. (Besides, truth be told, I like Lent!) I appreciate the lessons of Jesus’ temptations reminding me how powerful scripture is, and the lesson about the dry bones coming back to life through prayer. And even in those darker hymns, we can listen for hope and promise … the reminder again and again that we are never alone.

Join me in the Lenten season and go deeper in faith.

Join me at my pond … but you’d better bring your winter coat for awhile!

The seasons of nature – the seasons of the church – cannot be rushed.

Grace and peace,

MARCH 2011

Lent is a reflective, penitential season that begins with Ash Wednesday, March 9. Lent is 40 days that lead us to the cross, to Good Friday.  (The original Easter was a grand and glorious surprise!)

On Ash Wednesday, we are marked with the cross of Christ, as we were at Baptism. But on this day, the oil is mixed with ashes, and we remember that “we are dust, and to dust we shall return.” Life is fragile, and we remember that we can only depend on God.

Folks sometimes pick something to give up during Lent, to remember that Christ gave up his life for them. What if we picked something to ADD during Lent, in thanksgiving for God’s gifts of life, love and salvation to us?  A gift of time or money; a daily prayer time, weekly worship?

What about the intangibles?

Can we add support and give up suspicion?

Can we add transparency and give up doubletalk?

Can we add gratitude and give up attitude?

Can we add compassion and give up complaining?

Can we add creativity and give up stagnation?

Can we add more outreach and give up fear?

As we move through Lent, we will come to Palm Sunday/ Sunday of the Passion, where we cry “hosanna,” which in Hebrew means, “Save, we pray.” As Jesus comes into Jerusalem, people cried, “Hosanna, blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” (Psalm 118:26) So from that occasion, we have also come to associate the word with his triumphal entry into the city during Holy Week. What might you pray, Hosanna for this Lenten season?  Over what situation or person, would you cry to God, “Hosanna! Save, we pray!”  A sick loved one? A tenuous job situation? An estranged friend? Peace on earth? Wavering faith? Self-doubt?

We will continue through Holy Week, coming to Maundy Thursday. Maundy means “commandment,” and at that service we hear Jesus commanding us to love one another as he loves us, to wash each other’s feet, that is be willing to serve one another and be humble before each other.  And Good Friday. We go from a lit worship space to darkness, to remember the darkness that fell over the earth when Jesus died.

As we head into our Lenten journey, may we take advantage of the richness and variety the season offers:  Ash Wednesday and a return to God; Lenten Wednesdays to fellowship and consider the faith together; Maundy Thursday, Good Friday – that Easter might be, for us, the hope that breaks through despair, the AMEN declared after uncertainty, the bright light after a dark winter season.

Martin Luther once prayed, “Look, Lord, an empty vessel that needs to be filled. My Lord, fill it. I am weak in the faith, strengthen me. I am cold in love, warm me and make me fervent, that my love may go out to my neighbor. I do not have a strong and firm faith. At times I doubt and am unable to trust you completely. O Lord, help me. Strengthen my faith and trust in you. I have insured all my treasure to your name. I am poor; you are rich and you did come to be merciful to the poor. I am a sinner; you are upright. With me there is an abundance of sin; with you a fullness of righteousness. Therefore, I will remain with you. Amen.”  (From Luther’s Prayers, edited by Herbert Brokering)  AMEN!  “Yes, Lord, let it be so!”

Grace and peace,

FEBRUARY 2011

So here is it, a new year, and I breathlessly wonder where the last one went! The skies are grey, a wintery mix is falling. The beauty of the Christmas lights and decorations is past, as everything is put away. (Well, except for the two things I forgot this year!) The more I think about it, the more hibernation in the animal kingdom makes perfect sense to me. Grab some comforters, tea, books to get through the winter and let‘s just hibernate until warmth and sunshine and flowers show up again! Problem is, we would miss the beauty and blessings of NOW.

The poinsettia that hangs on, still communicating beauty.

The sights and squeals of thrilled kids, sledding down the CLC hill.

About 120 energetic, enthusiastic folks busy working on projects for others on MLK Day.

The card that arrives, just after Epiphany, from an almost-forgotten friend.

Positive medical news.

A child‘s drawing, reminding me of why I went into the ministry.

A movie with a friend … getting out and escaping in the world of the big screen.

A pet who serves as nightly foot-warmer.

Neat gospel lessons – including the call of the disciples and the Sermon on the Mount.

We began the year hearing from the Gospel of John, first chapter … "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it." So maybe this dark season allows us to more clearly see the light. Is there any streetlight brighter than the one that illuminates the snow? Maybe the wintry mix can remind us of our baptism, or of the psalmist‘s prayer, "wash me and I will be whiter than snow."

During this dark season, remember to look for the Light and beauty and blessings in your midst. And who knows, you might be that for someone else! Albert Schweitzer once said, "Sometimes our light goes out but is blown into flame by another human being. Each of us owes deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this light."

Grace and peace,

JANUARY 2011

As we turn the page on the calendar, I am reminded of the Psalmist’s words … ‘Sing to the Lord a new song, for God has done marvelous things!” My prayer is that God graces us with new and marvelous blessings in 2011, and gives us eyes to see them and the grace to share them.

I tend to resist making New Year’s resolutions. They have been, for me, invitations for failure. This year, though, as I head toward one of those “zero” birthdays, I am making a resolution to better care for my spiritual, physical, and mental health.

Thoughts of resolutions have me wondering what if …

What if we complain less and compliment more?

What if we worry less and pray more?

What if we speak less and listen more?

What if we blame less and forgive more?

What if we assume less and say thank you more?

Not as resolutions, but what if we tried making those actions and choices a habit? How might it change our attitude toward the world, the church, and each other?

This is a year of change. We begin the year with a “more retired” Pastor Hy. Words cannot express enough thanks for her pastoral care, her humor, her studies and calls. She will continue to assist in worship, lead the Tuesday study, and make birthday calls, as one of our favorite volunteers. We will continue to be blessed by her presence at CLC.

Council will soon re-form. Some Council members may change jobs, and we will welcome a new member. Perhaps the way we approach the future will shift.

I am grateful and thankful for all we accomplished, especially all the lives we touched in 2010. And I, for one, am looking forward to the new year. Let us sing a new song, in anticipation of God doing incredible things among and through us!

Grace and peace,

DECEMBER 2010

The Holidays

As I write this, it is not yet Halloween, which means Christmas carols have probably already started, before we even buy the pumpkin pie ingredients for Thanksgiving! One carol that we will no doubt hear daily is Perry Como’s “There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays.”

Oh there's no place like home for the holidays,

‘Cause no matter how far away you roam,

If you want to be happy in a million ways,

For the holidays,

You can’t beat home, sweet home.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes Christmas Carols have the opposite effect on me. Instead of boosting my spirits, they can remind me of realities in my life, and in yours that can make the holidays a struggle.

Your family is scattered.

You live alone.

Your loved one is overseas serving our country.

A significant loved one died this year, and a chair is empty.

Your adult children have chosen to be with the in-laws.

Your visitors include the pet you are allergic to or the relative with a drinking problem.

Your finances will not allow the celebration you have enjoyed in recent years.

There is one home where you ARE always welcome, and where you don’t have to pretend.

Tears, struggles, doubt, and conflicted feelings are welcome, as well as the smiles and joy – and that is at CLC – your church home. Doesn’t matter how long you have been away, or what your reality might be as you find your way back, God is already present, ready to welcome you home.

No, there’s no guarantee that the holidays will bring a million happy moments – and maybe, for you, worship won’t either. Maybe it is in the pew or the choir chair where you will most feel melancholy. That’s okay. You are not alone. Not only does God surround you with comfort and mercy, but you may also find a bit of it in the welcoming smile, the passing of the peace. And without a doubt, God will pour out love, strength, and forgiveness to you through Holy Communion. There is no place like God’s presence for the holidays, no matter how far away you roam.

So come on home, if you can. But know you are loved, even if you are miles away. God be with you as you travel.

Grace and peace,

NOVEMBER 2010

Fall worship includes two of my favorite Sundays: Reformation (October 31) and All Saints (November 7). The one recognizes our roots, but more profoundly reminds us and encourages us that the Church is ALWAYS in reform, always changing. The second is a celebration that reminds us we are part of a cosmic church; as Bishop Burkat likes to say, those gathered on earth and those gathered in heaven. This year, our All Saints’ celebration will include a dedication of the Columbarium.

My first concept of Church was formed by a little rhyme, accompanied by hand motions:

“Here is the church, here is the steeple. Open the doors and see all the people.” (If you are not familiar, many of us can probably demonstrate!) It was a neat little thing to learn as a toddler: church is where people gather. But by the time I entered seminary in 2000, I realized that the rhyme had led me to a distorted understanding of Church.

Our Lutheran Confessions, found in the Book of Concord (and from which, second to scripture, I promise to preach and teach), defines church like this: “the assembly of believers, among whom the Gospel is preached and the sacraments are administered.” (p.32, Tappert edition) Church is not a building or a steeple, after all. YOU are the church; WE are the church: living, changing, dynamic believers who gather for word and sacraments.

This understanding gives me reassurance when I doubt, and offers me support when faith falters. None of us alone are Church – it is the gathering, the assembly that makes us church. You never know when your passing the peace or your “amen” might strengthen the faith of one nearby – even your pastor!

The longer I am ordained, the more I gravitate to the sanctuary and chapel on non-Sundays, at odd times. A contemporary worship song, Sanctuary, resonates for me throughout the week. “Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary: pure and holy, tried and true; with thanksgiving I’ll be a living sanctuary for You.” The dictionary defines sanctuary in two primary ways:  a sacred place; a place giving refuge.” (Webster’s II Riverside Univ. Dictionary) I believe two things make a space a sanctuary: God and us. We believe, with the Hebrews, that sanctuary is holy, where God is present. (Harper’s Bible Dictionary)

So what does it mean to sing, “Lord prepare ME to be a sanctuary”? Lord, prepare me to be in your presence. Prepare me to welcome you, to house you in my life and my heart. Make of me a safe place where others can turn and find you.

What if? What if the rhyme went, “Here is the church, here is the steeple. Open the doors and where are the people?” What if the church were empty … not because of weekend sleep-ins or sports or gardening … but because the people were out in the community being a sanctuary for others? Providing the safety and security of food, clothing, hope and faith. I don’t advocate skipping church for the sake of it! In our assembly we find strength and inspiration, and are reminded that God loves us. But when worship ends, our roles as sanctuaries continue.

May we gather as God’s Church, and scatter to serve as sanctuaries.

Grace and peace,

SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 2010

LOST AND FOUND

The written directions had confused us. No one had brought their GPS (global positioning system) along. We had been driving for 45 minutes, occasionally passing landmarks a second time. Four adults and 15 youth – lost in West Virginia.  Perhaps my best contribution on the trip (after being the first of three adults trying to find our way from the airport) was stopping to seek (and purchase) four West Virginia road maps!

Being lost is bad enough when I am alone. That sinking feeling that I missed a turn somewhere or took the wrong exit. Stopping to call on my cell; admitting I am late because I am lost. Seeking new directions.  Being lost is even worse when I am out of town, and worse still when I am driving CLC youth through the roads of West Virginia!  Little did I know, my feeling of “lost-ness” was just beginning.

 Our home for a week was the firehouse in West Hamlin, PA. We ate at parish-hall type tables. Three rows, 5-6 tables deep. We showered across the street at the community school. Each time I walked into a new space, I felt lost. Then came the sleep area! A (narthex-size?) room with 43 Army cots, most of which were spoken for. I could feel my heart rate increase immediately. “Really?” I thought. “This room? And I am so private? No way!” Yes way. I chose a cot by the door, near a fan, under a mural of Pegasus.

Our first day at Kids Camp, (think VBS) we had a plan.  I was given a driving route to pick up local children and set off, following chaperone Rob, from Ohio. We ended up with almost as many volunteers as kids. I felt lost. Was I really needed? Did I have a role?

 But there were also moments when I knew I was found, or at least had found a comfort level. Writing locker letters to our youth. Daily devotions and worship, with no expectation to lead. Chopping green peppers for 70 people. Sharing youth memories of my ARP church camp with leaders from the ARP church in Statesville, NC. A local youth sharing of her aunt’s death, and asking for a hug. Picking up and dropping off  those on my route at home by week’s end. Being pulled back in the raft on the New River after falling out in the rapids.

 Jesus tells more than one parable in Luke 15 with a lost and found theme. The shepherd who leaves 99 sheep to look for the one that is lost. The woman who sweeps the entire house until she finds the lost coin. The son who realizes his recklessness and returns home, to the embrace and celebration of his father.  In each case the creature or the thing that was lost was found … the sheep and coin did nothing but be lost – they were found without trying harder or planning better. The son did not need to compensate or repay or live out back. He realized his lost-ness, turned around and went home.

 God is looking. God is always looking, for the one who is lost, alone, out of sorts; looking for you. God finds you in your times of lost-ness, pulls you close, carries you home and reclaims you; God even celebrates your homecoming. What a wonderful image! Thanks be to God for finding and claiming me. And may God bless all the folks of Hamlin and West Hamlin, West Virginia, my brothers and sisters in Christ, who ministered to me, even as I traveled to minister to them.

Grace and peace,

JULY/AUGUST 2010

THE MISSING

If I were to write a modern-day parable, I’d probably title it, “The Parable of the Missing.” In the last few months, I have been captivated by Jesus’ parables of the lost, The Lost Sheep, The Lost Coin. I always knew, but never completely understood, the motivation to leave the whole flock behind and look for ONE lost sheep. To drop all other activities and look for ONE lost coin.

But since the last LINK, Tom and I have spent much time together in emergency rooms, doctor’s offices, and home. The end of his school year went missing. His health and balance and smile went missing. Portions of my days, my energy, my focus, went missing. In the midst of it all, my favorite fish in the pond out back went missing for five days. I think I understand the parables a bit better now.

Five days, Crusty (named for the clown in The Simpsons show) was missing. Long enough that I was convinced he had died, never to be seen again. A small thing really; fish can easily be replaced. But it did not feel like a small thing. Our pond is my refuge and retreat, a place to just breathe and recoup and listen to the waterfall and the birds, to watch the fish, playfully zoom or casually swim without a care in the world. Every day for four days I would go to the pond – with flashlights and sunglasses – checking under rocks and in the skimmer. Every day, Crusty was missing. So I gave up. I quit looking, resigning myself to that minor loss.

The day after I stopped looking, I saw a flash of color -  Crusty was back! Moving slower, but there—in all his multi-colored, spotted, clownish splendor. I’m not sure where he went or why. He can’t say. But the glimmer of joy in the midst of life’s burdens and stress was amazing. I’m not sure why he showed up again right when I quit looking, but I experienced it as a small gift of grace.

The scary, painful weeks of Tom’s recovery are behind us. As he returns to baseball, I see glimmers of the joyful Tom again. As we move closer to summer, I find myself by the pond more and more, hoping and praying that as Crusty showed up again, so will normalcy and peace. Like Crusty, Tom and I can’t quite say what the missing weeks and events were like, but I felt your prayers, your grace. And I rejoice – Tom’s health was missing, and is back. His smile was missing, and has returned. And for Mother’s Day, Tom gave me a fish to match Crusty, I call him Smoky – his colors are more muted than Crusty’s.

God’s grace. Seen and experienced in my children, reflected in my pond.

Grace and peace,

MAY/JUNE 2010

It’s a word that has been crossing my mind a lot lately – miracle. The dictionary defines miracle as “an event that seems impossible to explain by natural laws and so is regarded as supernatural in origin or as an act of God.”¹ My Bible dictionary defines it this way, “Special interventions by God on behalf of his people. Miracles are closely associated with the creative and salvific deeds of God throughout Old Testament tradition. These powerful, mighty or miraculous deeds of salvation and creation take place through the action of God’s Spirit and power.”² Biblically, the word miracle reminds me of the Israelites who follow a cloud by day and fire by night, and who safely cross the Red Sea; Jesus feeding thousands with a few loaves and fish; Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead; the resurrection, etc.

So are miracles limited, then, to biblical times? Certainly conception and birth can be explained. But we refer to birth as the “miracle of life.” Is a safe birth not also an act of God?

To push even further, might there be miracles all around us – acts of God, things or events that point us to God? Perhaps we dismiss some of them as coincidence or luck? Or maybe because we can see what causes it, it does not seem to be a miracle? Are the following, from my real-life list, miracles?

The paper white, planted in advent, that lay dormant for months, grew like wildfire right before Easter. (Stop by my office for before and after pictures.)

A weed illuminated in a spotlight by our pond casts a beautiful cross-shaped shadow, only on Good Friday. (Ask me to see the picture on my cell phone.)

A good Samaritan with a fire extinguisher happens upon a flipped burning car and pulls a synod candidate for ministry to safety.

A tree falls away from a house, sparing all occupants.

A mother, without seeing or hearing anything, pushes her child out of the way of a speeding car.

A woman dies within seconds of the pastor saying, “It is okay. Do not be afraid.”

A friend goes in for surgery to remove a tumor and the surgeon finds nothing.

With extra work and tutoring, a failing grade comes up.

The first crocus lifts my spirits after a torrential rain does NOT flood my basement!

Easter worship may be only for a day, and yet we celebrate the resurrection all year. May God continue to remind us, through minor and major miracles alike, that we are loved and God is present.

Grace and peace,

¹ Webster’s II New Riverside University Dictionary, 1984.

² Harper’s Bible Dictionary, 1985.

MARCH/APRIL 2010

 “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.”

Recent images of peace from my visit with parents:

Coaches and players slapping hands after a Duke basketball game.

My twin niece and nephew together on my mom’s lap as Mom brokers the end of an argument.

Service men and women eating lunch and telling jokes at the Atlanta airport.

Late flight attendants, who delayed a departure: “Hope your day gets better,” I say. “If you have no complaint, it already is,” they reply.

A ride home, lunch included.

Do you stop and recognize the signs of peace around you? Or do you miss them in the rush of your daily routine? The child’s “I love you,” the spouse’s cooked meal, the message, e-mail, or note from a long-time friend.

After much prayer and thought, I suspended the passing of the peace during flu and cold season. On Palm Sunday, as we journey through Holy Week, it will be reintroduced. I wonder, as we bring the liturgical moment back, if we might dare to pause and embrace what it really is, and savor the moment together.

Passing the peace is a moment of prayer and reconciliation. The early church leaders saw it as a way for folks to reconcile with one another before sharing the sacrament. In Hebrew, the word for peace, “shalom,” means so much more. It is a prayer for well-being, mind, body, and soul. It means wholeness. The wish for shalom is much deeper than a simple greeting or cursory ritual. It goes beyond whatever is happening on the surface and reaches deeper, to wish and pray for the other person that no matter what is happening in their heart or life, you pray wholeness for them, you pray mental, emotional, spiritual well-being for them.

In the 1990s, the African country of Rwanda was home to one of the worst genocides in history. There is, in their language, the word, “amahoro,” which means peace. The custom of greeting someone in or with amahoro is this: you take their hand, gaze into their eyes, and say the word again and again until you sense that peace is truly flowing between you.

Rwandans have taught me that even though we have awful capacity for evil, that deep in the human heart there is a core - that everybody has - of truth, of dignity, of love, and the ability to reach out and create a bridge with even our worst enemies."

(John Steward, contributing author, After Genocide: Transitional Justice, Post-Conflict Reconstruction and Reconciliation in Rwanda and Beyond)

As we share the peace again in worship, may we pray “shalom,” and may we experience “amahoro,” that is, reconciliation, a prayer for well-being, a flow of peace between us that is tangible and makes a difference beyond a passing moment.

Grace and amahoro,

FEBRUARY 2010

Back in December, I had a hard time picturing an ugly bulb in a cup of pebbles as a symbol of hope. I completely understood the metaphor; but the Paper White Narcissus bulb just looked so, well, so hopeless. Four of us came home with similar looking metaphors. Sure enough, on Epiphany, two had sprouted, grown and were beginning to bloom! The other two were still looking a bit sad. So I rearranged the pebbles, repositioned the bulbs and waited. A third is sprouting and growing, to bloom probably by mid-month. But not much is happening with the fourth plant, which sports about a half-an inch of green and has not improved since December.

Against the backdrop of a barren garden, I appreciate the pretty white blossoms of the two thriving flowers. But I can’t help but wonder about the other two. Why was one so slow? Will the fourth grow at all? Is there any chance for a bloom?

The bulbs, which entered my house as a metaphor for hope, now represent a larger metaphor in my life – the opportunity, challenge and uncertainty of a new year. This is going to be a challenging year for us at CLC. We are coming off our first deficit-budget year. Cuts were made in proposing a new budget, and then addition cuts were made. (Still more adjustments will be made if things are not turning around by Easter.)

As we move through the year, some things will change and look different. We are going without flowers in Lent, appropriate in a season of sacrifice and change. The LINK will be published every other month beginning in March. Reports and schedules that were once mailed will now largely be e-mailed. You will likely get more info via CLC News. Additional volunteer teams will be formed for various tasks for which we have been paying. These and other challenges will give us all a chance to look at things from different angles and perhaps think of new, creative approaches.

Our year together will be much like the Paper Whites. Some things that we try, some things that we reprise, will grow and blossom. Others might get a slower start. Other ideas may not get off the ground. Whatever happens, all ideas and all attempts are a reflection of God’s diverse and surprising creation, reflected in the diversity of faces, talents and approaches.

The bleak mid-winter will pass. Before I know it, spring will return and I will rediscover the beauty of my garden. So too with our lives together at CLC. Seasons of challenge will give way to times of hope which will grow into beautiful new ideas and ministries.

May we dig in and plant the seeds, trusting God to grow our faith. I am looking forward to 2010 with you!

Grace and peace,

JANUARY 2010

When’s the last time you felt like a child standing on tiptoe, stretching as far as you could to see the incredible, mysterious surprise that’s just beyond your sight-line? Maybe you were stretching and reaching for the magical ornament on the tree. Maybe you were stretching and reaching to see over the fence. Or maybe you were just mentally stretching and reaching, excited to see what would come next in life.

That is the best way I can describe 2009, even as I stand on tiptoe wondering about 2010.

2009 was a year of firsts for me; a year of new beginnings. A new home and address. A new school year, as my youngest began high school. A new family experience, bringing my oldest back into the house. A new call, as your senior pastor, which brings with it a new church family, new sermons, new classes, new hospitals to visit, new folks to work with, new baptisms, new members, and new routines. At a recent “Around Town” visit, I commented that come March 1, when I mark a year at CLC, I will probably breathe a bit easier. The year of firsts will be over and some things will begin to seem familiar. But, in the meantime, I am still experiencing firsts. But I wonder, over time, how much do things change and how much do they remain the same?

In 1943, the CLC newsletter was called “News Sheet.” Rev. Huston was pastor and the two-page publication had a somewhat scolding tone. Evidently, church envelopes were not being used and attendance was down. The newsletter read, “Every time you absent yourself from the services of God’s house, you deprive your soul of much-needed food.” Might someone, all these years later, read those words and venture back to feed their souls?

In January 1960, a mere 50 years ago, paraments were brand-new to the church, a weekday church school for grades 4 and up was running, and the drama club was struggling. A couples club was being formed for those “in a rut.” Members were being scolded because visitors had to serve as ushers. And Pastor Zimmerman’s comments ended with, “I have a wish that comes from the bottom of my heart. That is, that every member will take seriously his Christian responsibility to Almighty God and to His church. Let us show a united witness of our faith and belief in a God who loves us and gave Himself for us.”

All these years later, a woman is senior pastor, there is no drama club, and attendance is down slightly again. Wonderful Wednesdays are open to all (not just couples) and the newsletter runs many more pages, giving testimony to our activities and outreach. Even more noticeable, our newsletter is full of references to service and outreach opportunities. Some things stay the same, other things change. So what now lies on the other side of the fence? What might we be standing on tiptoe, trying to reach or begin in 2010? The ultimate answers will be determined by your votes, by council, committees, teachers, volunteers, and staff. But the possibilities are endless.

What new perspectives, ideas, and outreach projects might our new council members spark? What new families will come to us through the nursery school? Which agencies will we help through Service Saturdays or offerings? Will someone have adequate food, water, or support because of us? Who could be served if we expand our end-of-life ministry and build a columbarium? Maybe there are even others who, like me, have other end-of-life arrangements but believe it is a valid ministry that could touch lives. What lives will be touched, which visitors might return because of anthems sung, scriptures, and messages shared? What needs will we meet for the people in Oreland and nearby communities?

You have the answer. I look forward to standing on tiptoe with you, reaching and stretching for what is to come. I wish you and yours a blessed New Year.

Grace and Peace,

DECEMBER 2009

The Challenge of Waiting

The longest day of the year? If you ask a child, it is Christmas Eve. Waiting is tough, and actually, it can be tough for any age. Are you waiting for an answer about a job? Waiting to see if you qualify for the loan, or are accepted into school or passed the recent exam? Waiting for the birth of a child, for medical test results, for a loved one to recover, or to die?

I dare say that if you ask a member of a liturgical church, many will admit that Advent feels like the longest season of the church year. I mean really, if your favorite stores have had Christmas merchandise out since November 1^st, how can you wait? Who wants to hear John the Baptist calling folks broods of vipers in church when Frosty the Snowman is playing on sound systems at the mall?

There is challenge in waiting. There is also value in waiting. There is a reason for Advent, a meaning in the season. The dictionary definition of advent is, “the arrival of something momentous.”¹ For Christians, we do await the arrival of something momentous – or actually a momentous someone – Jesus Christ. But for which momentous arrival do we wait? His first coming, the nativity? His second coming, to reign over all? His regularly-scheduled coming; that is, His coming again and again in the word and supper?²

Throughout all of scripture there is a sense of things already occurred, and things that have not yet been fulfilled. So too in Advent. Jesus has already come, is already with us. Born of human flesh, Immanuel, “God with us.” But Jesus has not yet returned, to reign, to claim and gather us as his own. Jesus has already come, already given us his supper, Holy Communion, yet he comes again and again, each time we receive his body and blood. And still we wait for the heavenly banquet feast, not yet fulfilled.

Meanwhile, we feast around holiday tables, and as we feast, we notice the empty chair. We feel the loss of loved ones as an empty place in our heart. How can we enjoy the waiting, the celebration in the midst of grief that bubbles up during this season? The difference, for a faithful Christian, is Jesus. For we do not “grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have died.” (I Thess. 4:13-14)

So we wait. We grieve and celebrate all at the same time, but we do not grieve as those with no hope. In Advent, it is a joyful hopeful waiting; and while we wait, we celebrate. We celebrate Christ’s resurrection every week. We celebrate Christ’s saving power in the Eucharist on a regular basis. We celebrate, with hopeful anticipation that Christ will return, defeating evil and drawing us to himself.

May there be joy and hope in your waiting.

Grace and Peace,

NOVEMBER 2009

Upheaval and Uplift

Dear Members and Friends,

It has been a time of upheaval. In nature, we have witnessed earthquakes, mudslides, and Tsunamis, claiming many lives. In society, unemployment is nearing 10%, the economy is still sluggish, and our household budgets are being stretched. In our national church, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, individuals and congregations are adjusting, if not reeling, from recent actions (outlined in a recent issue of The Link).

In a study of family systems, we learn that there are many possible reactions during tough times. Among them: withdraw from the family, react in anger, become defensive, and act as peacemaker. But the variety of responses during natural disasters or church decisions does not make us any less of a family in Christ.

In a recent worship service, we read Psalm 8, and were reminded that humanity was created a “little lower than the divine,” or, in another translation, a “little lower than the angels.” The psalm also praises the diversity of creation – fish, birds, creeping things. In the midst of chaotic creation, we praise. In the midst of upheaval, may worship and song be your uplift. Creation is unified by the Creator who breathed life into us. But unity does not mean uniformity.

Just look up and down the pews. We are young and old. We are blond and brunette and bald and gray. We are married and single and divorced and straight and gay. Our families include other denominations, atheists, other races, and every political leaning imaginable. As pastor, it is not my place to change anyone’s mind or convictions (any more than I would try to change your family). The issues debated rest not in Biblical wording but in Biblical interpretation. Instead, it is my call to love, care for, and support you, no matter your opinion or politics.

I am praying. For our denomination, for our synod, and for our congregation. My primary prayer is that we can live together in love, despite differences. Our country takes actions we strongly object to, but would we ever leave the country and become a citizen elsewhere? In the same spirit, I pray we can remain a strong family in Christ where all are welcome, where we are free to disagree, and where all voices are heard.

“If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation.” I Cor. 5:17-18

I pray for reconciliation and uplift in the midst of upheaval. I pray for each of you.

Grace and Peace,

OCTOBER 2009