Behold how good, how pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity!  It is like precious oil on Aaron’s head running down on his beard, running down to the collar of his robes.  It is like the dew of Mount Hermon, falling on the hills of Zion. For that is where GOD bestows the blessing—life that never ends.

– Psalm 133

Christ is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Beloved of God,

As the flora of the natural world comes to life around us these April days, we continue our celebration of the resurrection.  One of the greatest signs of the resurrection life to which we are called comes to us by way of the Scripture readings during this Easter season.  One of those, Psalm 133, is a favorite of mine.  One of the “psalms of ascent” or pilgrimage psalms, this psalm was sung and recited by folks who were making their way up to Jerusalem to celebrate the holy festivals.  When I think of this psalm I imagine groups of travelers walking—some for days—perhaps camping out a night or two enroute, with their eyes set on the goal of reaching the Holy City in time for the sacred celebration.  Along the trail I see them reconnecting with family members, renewing friendships, and, hopefully, experiencing the sweet nectar of a community in tune with each other and in tune with life.

My seminary advisor, Professor of Old Testament Jim Limberg, enjoyed teaching his Hebrew students a melody for singing Psalm 133.  After learning the tune, he’d lead us on a pilgrimage to other classrooms while the Hebrew words echoed through the halls: “Hine ma tov uma nahim – shevet achim gum yachad!” Behold how good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity!

On April 14^th this month our congregation will once again expand as we receive by Rite of Welcome a new group of people who have been called by the Spirit to make Peace Lutheran a spiritual home base.  Some of their names and faces will be familiar to you while others will be new.  If you haven’t yet met them, April 14 will be an excellent opportunity to do so!  Each of them—Christina, Jacob, Eugene, Raymond, Ann, Kristin, Patty, Shari, Pidge, Matthew, and Paul—have a story to tell about how they felt drawn into our community and what they are hoping to both receive and share in the life we share.  It’s been a joy to learn more of their stories during our Journey of Faith process.  As they become more deeply connected at Peace, I hope you will share in the joy of coming to know these new “kin.”

Then, on April 21^st the circle will expand wider still as we welcome Astrud Bernadette Gray to the body of Christ through Holy Baptism.  When Astrud is baptized we, the people of Peace, will be articulate our promise to support her and pray for her as her new life in Christ continues to root and grow.  We will call her “sister” for she will be one of our new siblings, one of our kin.  It makes me want to sing!

Living with resurrection joy!

Pastor Erik

“When the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching,

for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.”

– Mark 1:21-22

Beloved of God,

As we turn the calendar to 2024 (a “leap year”…which means we have one extra day to figure it all out, right?!), I’m reflecting on its inauspicious beginning for me personally.  COVID kept me sequestered in my bedroom for eight long days following Christmas.  On the one hand, it was an engraved invitation to catch up on my reading.  On the other hand, it was a blunt reminder of the mistaken notion that I have control over my life.  I need those reminders now and again.  And coming at the intersection of one year and the next seems oddly fitting .  But back to the reading…

A book on my Christmas list I was grateful to receive was Timothy Egan’s latest: Fever in the Heartland: The Ku Klux Klan’s Plot to Take Over America, and the Woman Who Stopped Them (Viking, 2023). To say I read the book would be a misnomer – I devoured it; due in no small part to Egan’s genius for turning historical non-fiction into page-turning drama.  Tracing the rise of the Ku Klux Klan’s white supremist movement in the post-WW1 American heartland (Indiana and Ohio particularly) makes for harrowing reading—heightened even more by that fact that this is history about which I knew absolutely nothing.  Yet, as Egan ably documents, the implications of where this movement could have ended up, how deeply it put at risk the foundational commitments of American democracy, are absolutely stunning.  Most remarkably, in the personalities, strategies, and political gamesmanship he uncovers from a century ago one finds immediate resonance within our current age.  Which is, no doubt, precisely as Egan intends.  I highly recommend the book.

Telling the truth is in short supply these days; lies and smoke screens flourish.  How to tell the difference?  The Season after Epiphany, which we’ll mark from now through February 11, focuses on the early ministry of Jesus as he gathers a community around himself and begins his ministry of teach and healing.  What stands out for those who have direct encounters with Jesus is his authority.  There’s no quibbling.  No hemming and hawing.  No saying one thing in front of the cameras and another thing in private.  His diagnosis and prescription are clear and direct:  Repent and believe the good news!

In an age where some swaths of the Christian-identifying public are falling in lock step behind leaders who are consummate charlatans, we need to raise up the clarion voice of Jesus.  For absent his voice we may become prey to all kinds of demagoguery.  The Seahawks have a tradition called TELL THE TRUTH MONDAY.  Watching the game film from the day before is a cure all for sidestepping missed assignments or blaming others.  The goal is simple: to own mistakes; to learn; to grow.

The Christian tradition has a similar tradition.  Let’s call it TELL THE TRUTH SUNDAY, the weekly occasion when we stand before God and one another with a mirror before us.  That mirror shows us things that we would rather not see, but when we have the courage to look into it we find in its reflective gaze that not only are we imperfect and flawed human beings, we are, at the same time, BELOVED. For in that gaze we see superimposed upon our image the image of the incarnate Christ.  And seeing him gives us hope and purpose:  there is a way forward; we can tell the truth about ourselves—for we know and trust that his love and forgiveness will be there for us, come what may.  For he told us so.

With you, on the Way,

Pastor Erik

“In late fall, in the world’s north, the sun glides low in the sky.

Light dims, the air cools, signaling every living thing.

Animals know what to do when the season of dark and cold spreads over the earth.

Every creature makes changes to its home, its body, its habits.

Every creature makes ready to wait until the earth wakes again into the light & warmth of spring.

Waiting in the cold dark will be hard but each creature knows…

The dark is not an end.  It’s a door.  It’s the way a new beginning comes.”

– Gayle Boss, All Creation Waits

To those who wait,

I saw them before they saw me, two Toklat grizzlies crossing the river near Polychrome Pass in Alaska’s Denali National park.  It was mid-August.  After riding the shuttle up the gravel road that bisects the park, I’d hiked up some hills to the north and was enjoying my lunch among some mountain goats when the bears’ blond coats came into view a quarter mile away, immediately commanding my attention.  I had planned to spend a couple nights hiking solo along the Toklat River, but seeing that pair of grizzlies had me quickly changing my mind.  Never mind that Toklats are 80% vegetarian.  Never mind that they paid me no heed whatsoever.  One quarter mile was as close as I wanted to get to that pair of apex predators within that vast wilderness.

Close encounters like that tend to embed themselves in one’s memory.  What stories might you share of encounters with wild creatures on their turf?  How did it feel? What did the encounter teach you about the wild?  About yourself?

“In sacred manner may we live among the wise and loving ones,

Sit humbly, as at sages’ feet, by four-legged, finned, and feathered ones.”

In Sacred Manner, Susan Palo Cherwien

Advent is upon us, surprising us with its swiftness.  While Thanksgiving leftovers are still taking up space in the refrigerator, we turn the page to December and there’s Advent staring us in the face.  Only this year, the features of that face (better, those faces) include members of the animal kingdom: Painted Turtle, Muskrat, Black Bear, Chickadee, Whitetail deer, Honey bee—all are waiting, with many more or their kin, (24 in total) to greet us.  They come to us by way of the beautifully written and illustrated book by Gayle Boss, All Creation Waits.  Through a special grant and the vision of the Creation Care and Worship Teams, these Advent devotionals are being made available to every Peace Household.  (A regular edition is illustrated with intricate woodcuts by David Klein and the Children’s Edition includes the colorful art of Sharon Spitz.)

This devotional comes with a question:  What might we two-leggeds learn from our four-legged, winged, and finned friends about entering into this season?  We look forward to exploring that and other questions throughout the coming weeks.  It all kicks off on Sunday, December 3^rd with our annual ADVENT FESTIVAL, which you can read all about on page 3 below.  Suffice it to say, you won’t want to miss this grand entry into Advent, which includes a conversation with the author herself – Gayle Boss!   Let’s tune in to the animal stories and swap some of our own.

With you, on the Way,

Pastor Erik

“Weave, weave, weave us together.  Weave us together in unity and love!”

– Rosemary Crow

Beloved of God,

There’s a picture that hangs in my study at home of a woman’s hands weaving together separate strands of what will one day become a basket.  The hands belong to Laura Somersal, a Pomo Elder.  They are old, these hands, brown and weathered.  Wrinkles cover every part of their surface—yet they are supple and strong.  When I look at the picture, I imagine her hands gathering lengths of willow from riverbanks; digging for pine root; harvesting young bear grass in the spring; stripping lengths of maidenhair fern, or peeling woodwardia and dying it with alder bark; gathering the strands together into bundles. Then, when they are ready, I see her hands weaving them together; twisting them to fit one over another, tightly, neatly, evenly, row upon row, to form a bowl, a hat, a baby basket.  Each with its own design.  Creating a tapestry from the gifts of the earth.  And this Weaver sings as she works, and her songs are woven into the basket; become part of it.  Her prayers and thoughts move from her heart, down through her fingers; move through the root, the fern, the quill, to become a part of the work, the whole.  The stuff that holds it together.  Out of the mixed gathering of gifts from the earth, her intention takes shape, a design is formed.  Yes, this Weaver knows what she is creating.  And so she weaves.  Patiently, steadily, rhythmically, her hands bring into being what already exists in her mind.

I invite you to imagine with me that God, like this Weaver, is weaving the Kingdom.  That God, like this woman, is at work gathering the separate and distant strands of people from every time and place and fashioning us into a community, a divine fellowship, a new and beloved creation which will one day be whole and complete.

“We are many textures, we are many colors, each one different from the other, but we are entwined with one another in one great tapestry. Weave, weave, weave us together.  Weave us together in unity and love!”

As November begins, we claim our status as beloved elements of the Kingdom basket God is creating while remembering the lives of other beloveds – saints from our community and from the long history of the church – whom God has called to his side.  This year there are six from the Peace congregation: Jeanne, Joyce, Ann, Peggy, Jack, and RaeAnn, whom we lifted up on All Saints Sunday.  During their time at Peace each of their lives intersected with our own, yet their stories and the patterns of their lives are much richer and complex than what we will ever know.  So we give thanks that God is forever at work incorporating their stories, along with our own, into the grand story of healing and redemption God has been working on since time began.

This November will also see the return of our Thanksgiving Eve Service on Wednesday, November 22^nd.  This will be a time of  coming together to remember with gratitude God’s gifts and presence in our lives and in the life of the world.  Finally, this month is also a time for considering how our gratitude and thanksgiving will be manifested in our continuing support for funding God’s mission through Peace.  To that end, keep your eyes peeled for a letter in the mail inviting you to once again participate in growing the Culture of Generosity here at Peace by filling out and returning a Statement of Intent.  What a joy that God is at work among us, with faithful hands, weaving us together in love!

Your partner in Christ,

Pastor Erik

For as the rain and snow come down from heaven and do not return there until they have watered the earth,

making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that

goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,

and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.”

– Isaiah 55:10-11

Beloved of God,

The return of rain as autumn begins is greening up dormant grass and dusting off leaves, making the colors of fall shine all the brighter.  As I write, storm clouds outside my study window have parted long enough for a peekaboo sun to light up glistening leaves.  After five months of below average precipitation, the return of significant rainfall is a welcome sight—and something within me sighs in relief – Hallelujah!

Rain—the gift that keeps on giving in a cycle that has sustained life on Earth for millennia beyond number—is easy to take for granted during wet winter days.  But the lack of it sets off alarms within my Northwest psyche.  Thankfully, those alarms are being tamped down now as each new storm wave rolls through.

Bachalpsee, above Grindelwald

On one of my family’s favorite days last June, high above the Swiss town of Grindelwald, we were caught in a mountain squall at 7,100 feet.  As light showers morphed into a full-fledged downpour, the  mountain lodge we were visiting filled up with tourists seeking shelter.  We, on the other hand, smugly outfitted in raingear, remained outside under the building’s eaves, watching the heavy drops turn into hail.  A cup of hot chocolate later, it let up enough for us to begin our hike to Lake Bachalp, a 3.6 mile round trip.  But it wasn’t long before the rain resumed, leaving our boots, socks, and pants soaked to the bone.  Yet—and this was the best part—we treated it as high adventure; a thrilling experience to be savored rather than escaped from.

In the 55^th chapter of Isaiah (above), the lifegiving water cycle becomes a metaphor for God’s word; a testimony to God’s steadfast accompaniment and the long arc of God’s promises.  Depending on where rain or snow falls on a given landscape, its journey through the full water cycle may be measured in days, decades, or millennia.  So too, God’s voice finds purchase in our lives in varying ways on varying timelines.  When the Word became flesh in Jesus, that arc touched down as never before, uniting heaven and earth.  The arc of God’s word, like the falling rain, is still touching down, showering its blessing upon us as we gather each week to listen for God’s address to us and to respond with lives of faithful service.

As October begins we once again celebrate the life and legacy of St. Francis of Assisi.  Listening for the voice of God did not come naturally to Francis.  It only became possible after a series of experiences punctured a hole in his inflated aspirations, leaving him in a literal and spiritual prison as dry as dust.  Into that parched place God’s voice finally spoke to Francis in a way he was now able to receive it:  “FRANCIS,” the Voice said, “MY CHURCH IS FALLING INTO RUIN—REBUILD IT.”  This Voice of the Lord landed on Francis like a sudden squall, soaking him, refreshing him, and pointing him toward a new venture that brought renewal to the church of his time and still reverberates in our own.

When we gather for worship, when we come to Font and Table, we open ourselves to receive what is needed to sustain life. We enter into the Faith Cycle, which, like the Water Cycle, brings sustenance not only to ourselves but to all whose lives intersect with our own.  Let’s make this month a time for reconnecting with Living water!

With you on the Way,

Pastor Erik

Jesus spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the eyes of the man born blind, saying to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent).  Then we went and washed and came back able to see.

John 9:6-7

Beloved of God,

Our Lenten journey this month has us spend considerable time in the Gospel of John.  For four weeks running our gospel readings will explore stories of encounters between Jesus and various characters—Jesus and Nicodemus (March 5); Jesus and the Samaritan woman (March 12); Jesus and the man born blind (March 19); and Jesus and Mary, Martha, and Lazarus (March 26).  Each encounter gives us insight into who Jesus is and how God’s work in him brings new hope and possibilities to our skeptical, weary world.  Each story speaks to the process of transformation that attends our lives in Christ.  Together these stories have served as the church’s “core curriculum” for centuries for those preparing for baptism at Easter.

As the time for my Pastoral Renewal Sabbatical draws near – (it begins March 27) – I’ve been thinking a good deal about what I hope will transpire for me and within me during these four months away. There are many ways to think about that question.  One way is through the lens of the quote above: I want to be able to SEE.  It’s not that I feel I completely lack vision; it’s that I know from past experience how stepping away from the challenges and obligations of pastoral ministry will enable me to see things with a fresh perspective.  The word sabbatical has its roots in the biblical concept of Sabbath (“to rest” or “to cease), and this sabbatical will provide me with the opportunity to rest, disengage, restore, celebrate, travel, reflect, and—yes—SEE my life as a pastor, a husband, a father, a human being, from new vantage points. The goal is to return to ministry among you refreshed and renewed in body, mind, and spirit.

Traveling can be a great route toward self-understanding, and my sabbatical will include a significant amount of traveling.  But before that phase begins I will spend the first two weeks of sabbatical, including Holy Week and Easter, with two monastic communities in Oregon, and in the realm of nature.  During this time Chris, Kai, and Naomi will continue to participate in congregational life at Peace.  Following those two weeks, the three of them will join me as we visit National Parks in Utah and the Grand Canyon.  Then, the first week of May, we will leave for Germany and adjacent countries.  Planned destinations include: Munich and environs; Prague and Budapest (Rick Steves Tour); Luther historical sites (including Pentecost Sunday at the Castle Church in Wittenberg); museums and concert venues; time in Berlin with the Boeckh family as well as visits to WW2 sites including the Bonhoeffer House and the Holocaust Museum; hiking in the Swiss Alps and the Italian Dolomites; and visits to new as well as previously visited locations in Italy.  Each of these places has attracted our interest for different  reasons.  Some, such as the Lutheran historical sites, are obvious.  Others, less so.  The connections we will make and the “seeing” it will afford each one of us will be priceless, and we owe the Peace congregation a debt of gratitude for your robust support of this venture!  Thank you ever so much.  Chris’s mom, Nancy, will continue at home while we are away, participating in the life of Peace and supported by a cadre of Peace friends and neighbors who will make certain she has what she needs in our absence.  We are deeply grateful for all of you who will provide accompaniment to Nancy while we are gone.

My final service before departing will be March 26.  I hope you will join the Peace community in worship that day so you can be part of the “launching” of this venture.  None of it could have happened without your support.

With you, on the Way,

Pastor Erik

According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building on it.  Each builder must choose with care how to build on it.  For no one can lay any foundation other than the one that has been laid, that foundation is Jesus Christ. 

–  St. Paul, 1 Corinthians 3:10-11

Beloved of God,

When you’re framing up a house, before you lift a stick of lumber you check the foundation to make certain its walls are plumb, level and square.  If the foundation is out of PLUMB it means the walls are leaning, and the weight of the force pressing down could cause them to collapse.  If the foundation is not LEVEL neither will the floors be, and everything that’s added on top will contribute to the home’s instability.  If the foundation is out of SQUARE then everything on top of it will be out of square; and problems originating with the foundation will be translated through the entire structure to the roof.  In other words, if a home’s foundation isn’t plumb, level, and square, everything built on it will be put at risk, everything built on it will be in danger of failing.

Back in the day when I was framing houses in Minnesota, our crew once arrived at the job site to discover that the foundation, instead of measuring up square as it should, measured like a parallelogram!  There was nothing we could do to build that house from that foundation and have it end up square.  The only option was starting over from the ground up.  So our foreman called the cement contractor, and, after a few choice words were exchanged, the cement contractor sent a backhoe to pull the walls down and pull the footings up and start the building process all over again.

The testimony of the New Testament is that there is only one solid foundation on which the mission of the church can be built.  In the words of the Samuel Stone’s great hymn text: “The church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ her Lord.”

Everyone who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock…and everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand.  –  Jesus, Matthew 7: 24, 26

In some ways, our annual meeting each year is an opportunity to evaluate whether the structure we’ve been building upon befits the church’s one foundation.  I came away from this year’s annual meeting convinced that we are not only on the right track—we are poised to engage our collective calling with creativity and renewed energy!  As we continue to emerge from the pandemic, I am excited to see how the energy and experience of our new council can help us recalibrate our mission moving forward.  There is much to look forward to in 2023!

Jesus was a craftsman who worked with wood and stone.  He knew how to put a building up right.  He transferred those skills into his work with people.  Jesus doesn’t expect us to build upon his foundation with skills we alone can muster.  Instead, he invites us to become apprenticed to him and sends us the Holy Spirit, so we can learn all we need to know to build a home—a community, a mission, a way of life—that will endure.

When the life we share is founded on the cornerstone of Jesus Christ instead of the shifting sands of the priorities and practices the world offers, our lives remain secure no matter what circumstances we face.  The house that faith builds is a fit habitation and a firm launching platform for our mission.

With you on the Way,

Pastor Erik

Baptism of Christ, David Zelenka, 2005

As rivers flow from a distant spring to quench our thirst and feed the earth,

so let our lives flow from you, our Source, to counter death and nurture birth.

– As Rivers Flow from a Distant Spring, All Creation Sings, #1046, David Bjorland

Beloved of God,

The shift to a NEW YEAR gives us an opportunity to catch our breath, and I’ve always found something refreshing and hopeful as the calendar turns to January.  The year past—whatever its combination of successes and failures—is over, and the new year—like the buds formed on dormant trees—is full of potential and ready to blossom.

One of the things that will start coming into flower this year is our collective commitment to carbon neutrality.  (To learn more about this proposed plan by the Creation Care Team, which will be under consideration at our January 29^th Annual Congregational Meeting, see the January Edition of Peace Notes.) The diligent work of the CCT invites us to deeper engagement in Earthcare and strengthens our ongoing effort to connect the dots between our lives of faith and our interdependent partnership with the natural world.

The “confluence” of these concerns will be evident as we celebrate the sacred gift of water and our baptismal vocation on January 8th – the Baptism of Our Lord.

Several years ago I used this column to reflect on the question: Where does the water in our baptismal font comes from?  Rising environmental threats due to global temperature rise, drought-diminished water supplies, tainted ground water sources across the U.S., increase in hazardous waste risks due to flooding—such as what is transpiring in South Park neighborhoods right now—all these realities point to the  continuing relevance of this question, which I reprise, updated, below.

Where does the water in your font come from?

Where does the water in your font come from?  It was a deceptively simple question, but the more I reflected on it the deeper and further the question took me.  One moment I was climbing glaciers on Mt. Tahoma with cramponed feet and ice axe in hand; next I was beating the heat soaking my feet at 10 Mile Creek near Holden Village; finally, I was paddling a kayak around Stuart Island in the San Juans of Puget Sound.  Millisecond memories of journeys in and through water flooded my brain, all of them evoked by that one, simple question:  Where does the water in your font come from?

Here in Seattle we enjoy some of the finest and purest water of any city anywhere in the world. It’s the water from the Cedar River and South Fork Tolt River watersheds that runs through our pipes, powers our industries, cleanses our bodies, cooks our food, quenches our thirst, and fills our fonts.  Each day  140 million gallons of potable water is distributed through the Seattle Public Utilities network. And at a cost of less than 1 cent per gallon, it’s the best deal in town. In fact, the city runs an ongoing campaign to convince those who have access to this fine water to embrace it, drink it, use it, instead of buying the bottled water alternatives that flood the market.

The commodification of water is one of the big economic/environmental stories of recent two decades. Consumption of bottled water continues to rise, and across the world, one million plastic bottles are purchased every minute.  In the last 30 years, bottling factories have popped up all over the country, and a whole industry has risen up where a generation ago none existed.  That industry has succeeded in convincing American consumers that bottled water is better and better for you than water from the tap.  Have you ever wondered why anyone would put out money for bottled water that costs thousands of times as much as tap water—even before the environmental costs of single-use plastic are factored in?  Yes, there are places in the world where tap water isn’t drinkable, but Western Washington isn’t one of them.

Many water experts believe that the wars being fought today over oil are nothing compared to what we will see in the future as the population trends exacerbate the water shortages that already exist in many parts of the world—including in the desert Southwest of the United States.  See what I mean about “deceptively simple question”?

But why does any of this matter?  It matters because the water in the baptismal font follows us wherever we go.  The liturgy of worship follows us into the rhythms of our home lives and into the ethics of our social-political-economic lives.  In other words, because our lives as human beings are shaped by the new identity we receive as we are washed in the waters of baptism, that new identity follows us into all the circles and spheres of our lives, accompanied by a value for the water in which we received our new birth.

Third century church father Tertullian put it this way:

“But we, little fishes, after the example of our IXTHUS [i.e. “big fish”/ Savior] Jesus Christ, are born in water, nor have we safety in any other way than by permanently abiding in water.”

Not only do we abide in water, we are water—at least the majority of the human body is (55-78%, depending on age, body fat content, etc.), and the way we use water matters to those of us whose lives are shaped by the promises of the Triune God we received in baptism.  When we believe this to be true, then tracing the water in the font back to its source becomes a meditation on our commitment to care for the physical watersheds  in which our lives are lived.

On January 8^th, as we begin worship with thanksgiving for baptism, water from three local sources will flow into our font, and we will have the opportunity once more to renew our commitment to the covenant God initiated with us in baptism while we renew our commitment to the sacred gift of water.

Pastor Erik