Archive for the ‘Pastor’s Pen’ Category

 I’m going on a journey, and I’m starting today.

My head is wet, and I’m on my way.

Christ’s mark is on me, it’s on you, too;

It says he loves me, and he loves you, too.

– Kenneth Larkin, ELW #446

Beloved of God,

Our crew is heading south to Los Angeles this month, compelled by the wedding of our nephew Jacob and his fiancé Maryel.  It’ll be our first family road trip to California and an opportunity to visit friends and family along the way—as well as take in the sights like the Magic Kingdom.  On our return trip the four of us will camp in the Redwoods, swim in Northwestern California rivers, and spend time with people and places I first met 30 years ago in my first Call as Pastor Director of Lutheran Ministry with Native Americans.  Reconnecting with these places and people and introducing Kai and Naomi to them is something I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.

I’ll never forget the first week of my new job.  I was attending a conference hosted by Humboldt State University that gathered together local tribal leaders, US Forest Service executives, environmentalists, and forestry professors from the university.  The topic was natural resources—approaches to developing and using them—and the fault lines of cultural perspectives that emerged were profound.  As we broke for lunch on the first day, I ended up at the same table as a Karuk elder who would become a significant mentor for me during my years of ministry there.  Our encounter was the first of many Spirit-driven events that took place during my five years of service in Indian Country.  I am forever grateful for the teachers, mentors, and companions God sent my way—both from Native communities and the church community—who extended and deepened my “education” in ways no seminary training could.

In a “parish” spread over 10,000 square miles, I worked with tribal communities—the Karuk, Hupa, Yurok, Tolowa, Wiyotte in particular—and a dozen Lutheran congregations, in a ministry of word and witness, advocacy and service. Along the way I discovered that my most profound learning often emerged when I was forced to confront the assumptions and limitations behind my own ways of thinking.  Looking at reality through the eyes of others challenged my assumptions about how and where and what God was up to.  Along the way, I discovered a new vocabulary to fit the new experiences that I was having, and came to appreciate the myriad ways God’s presence was embodied among peoples and within landscapes that were different from those I had known.  It was a journey I hope never to forget.

And the journey continues.  The earliest name given to the disciple community which gathered around Jesus was “people of the Way.” Our sisters and brothers of Calvary Lutheran marked the end of their journey as a congregation in a final festive sendoff June 26th.  That service marked the end of their formal life as a congregation, and the end of Pastor Paul Winterstein’s active years of service.  But it did not mark the end of their journey with God!  They remain “people of the Way.”  Their journey, which began in the waters of baptism, continues—through this life and into the next.  Some Calvary folk have indicated their desire to make Peace their new home base.  What a joy it will be to welcome them into our life and mission!  Others will take more time to discern where God is leading them now.  One thing we can be sure of, Christ’s mark abides on them and he will be with them, wherever the next stages of the faith journey takes them.

Whatever paths you travel this summer, claim God’s love for the journey, remember Christ’s mark on you, and stay wet!

Pastor Erik

 

 

 

 “In his beautiful canticle, Saint Francis of Assisi reminds us that our common home is like a sister with whom we share our life and a beautiful mother who opens her arms to embrace us. This sister now cries out to us because of the harm we have inflicted on her by our irre­sponsible use and abuse of the goods with which God has endowed her.”

– Pope Francis, Laudato Si‘: On Care for Our Common Home

Beloved of God,

The record-breaking warmth we’ve experienced this spring has accelerated the growth and flowering of our region. Some of us have enjoyed the extra days of shorts and t-shirts, while others have pined for the cooler springtimes we remember.  Our experience here in the Northwest is by no means unique.  All over the globe temperatures are rising.  Climate change is upon us, and that’s no hoax.[1]  With it come consequences in every sector of life.  One simple example:  As prices for air conditioning drop and the demand in developing countries grows, a new estimate suggests that 700 million air conditioners are expected to be installed by 2030, and 1.6 billion by 2050. The average air conditioning unit in American homes releases about two tons of carbon dioxide each year.  Do the math. [2]  Seattleites start complaining when temperatures approach 80 degrees—imagine living in Phalodi, India, where a new record high of +123.8 degrees was recently set![3]  As temperatures rise, who can begrudge people who live in unbearable conditions the option of buying air conditioning?  (Understand, it’s only those who can afford to purchase their way to comfort who will benefit; for the vast numbers of people living in abject poverty around the world such choices remain elusive.)

It’s easy to get lost in the statistics. As people of faith we need a place to be grounded as, together, we face the truth about what human actions and choices have done to place our planet home in peril and build strategies to turn the boat around.  Those strategies have to be about more than buying stock in air conditioning companies.

Pope Francis, in his encyclical Laudato Si‘: On Care for Our Common Home, gets at the heart of the matter. A group of us from Peace and Calvary, in addition to other friends, participated in a study of Pope Francis’ circular letter earlier this spring.  One of the outcomes of that study was an urgent desire to affirm what the Pope said and to place our own stake in the ground.  As a result, a letter to Pope Francis authored by study participants has been written.  (You can read an excerpt in the pages that follow.  To read the complete 3 page letter, follow this LINK).  A tree honoring the spirit behind his encyclical will be planted on Peace property on June 5th—the first of four Sundays in this year’s Season of Creation.

In his book, LENS TO THE NATURAL WORLD: Reflections on Dinosaurs, Galaxies, and God, Ken Olson, a retired ELCA pastor and paleontologist, uses analogies to help us comprehend how we human beings fit within the scope of Earth’s long history.

“One could represent [earth’s] 4.6 billion years with a line fifteen miles long. In that scheme, the last 6,000 years from ancient Mesopotamia to the present, which brackets what we usually call “civilization,” would be represented by just the last single inch.  In vertical scale, if the history of the earth were a cliff a mile high, all of historic time would occupy just the uppermost 10th of an inch, and a single lifetime less than the thickness of the finest hair.”

These analogies seek to help us grasp that is essentially ungraspable—the immense expanse of deep time that forms the backdrop to this universe in which we find ourselves, and the infinitesimal portion of time our species has been alive by comparison. Yet, in spite of our brief existence, we homo sapiens have had an outsized impact on the health of the planet’s natural systems.  There are many factors that have led to the reality now confronting us.  Myopic greed and runaway hubris are two of them.  In the words of Pope Francis:

“We have come to see ourselves as [Earth’s] lords and masters, entitled to plunder her at will. The violence present in our hearts, wounded by sin, is reflected in the symptoms of sickness evident in the soil, in the water, in the air and in all forms of life. The Earth herself, burdened and laid waste, is among the most abandoned and maltreated of our poor; she ‘groans in travail.’”

Many studies document the impacts of human choices on Earth’s health, but Pope Francis’ letter frames the impacts in ways we can both intellectually grasp and viscerally feel. I encourage you to read Laudato Si. (Follow this LINK to the Vatican website.)  More than that, I invite you to join the conversation taking place at Peace, and to come to worship during the month of June as we once again celebrate the Season of Creation.  Our worship themes this year revolve around the FOUR ELEMENTS: EARTH, AIR, FIRE, WATER, and will incorporate excerpts from Laudato Si’. When you come on June 5th, be prepared to get your hands dirty! After all, putting our hands in soil is a sacred activity! The sacred, fecund soil (Hebrew: adamah) from which God first fashioned the first Earth-people (Hebrew: adam) will be the focal point of our activity during worship, so dress casually.

It is in our worship life where God promises to meet us, re-grounding us in God’s intentions for us and for this world. In Christ’s Meal gifts of grain and grape become sacred emblems of Christ’s presence in our midst. Our eating and drinking unites us with Christ and reconnects us to the Earth from which these sacred gifts come.  In sharing this food we become what we eat: the body of Christ for the world.

The letter to Pope Francis includes a reference to the ELCA Social Statement “Caring for Creation: Vision, Hope, and Justice” (1993), which states:

Humans, in service to God, have special roles on behalf of the whole of creation. Made in the image of God, we are called to care for the earth as God cares for the earth.”

The letter to Francis goes on to conclude thus:

“Despite current differences in theology and politics, there is no excuse for waiting to cooperate. These environmental and social crises we face need immediate and frank discussion, cooperation, and action.  Let this now be a rock on which we can stand together as brothers and sisters in order to level the playing field between rich and poor, embrace the best scientific research, and work toward a cultural change of consciousness which can lead to renewed care for our common home.”

Faith is a verb. As people of faith we are called to practice what we preach, to live what we profess, trusting that the Triune God is with us in the midst of the muddle; breathing life into us at every turn, as God once breathed life into our first ancestors.

Pastor Erik

[1] Some prefer the term “climate breakdown” as a more accurate description of the realities at hand.

[2] http://www.wnyc.org/story/uptick-air-conditioners-impacts-climate-change

[3] http://www.cnn.com/2016/05/20/asia/india-record-temperature/index.html

Lord, send out your Spirit– and renew the face of the Earth! Psalm 104

Children of the Spirit,

May is packed with meaningful events within our life together – the blessing of the quilts (5/1); the photo shoot for our first pictorial directory in 7 years (5/3-5); the Peace/Calvary Women’s Retreat (5/6-7); the Rite of Confirmation on Pentecost Sunday (5/15); the annual NW WASH Synod Assembly (5/20-21); the baptisms of 3 little ones on Trinity Sunday (5/22); and—to top it off—Scholarship Sunday (5/29). Occasions for celebrating the Spirit’s living presence among and between us abound!  You can read about all these and more in the pages below.  But I hope you’ll do more than read—I hope you’ll choose to be part of many of them.  After all, our community is not the same without you.

“Come, let us build a city…and make a name for ourselves.”

Genesis 11:4

As the Day of Pentecost approaches, the story of the Tower of Babel comes to the fore (Genesis 11:1-9).  One of the ancient legend stories of Genesis, the story tells how humankind sought to use the newest technology (brickmaking) to gain control of its destiny.  Underneath the text is a not so veiled desire for a homogeneous identity: we would rather stay with our kind, within the homogeneous tribe or national identity or lingual bond that we know, rather than venture beyond them. Juxtaposed with that story is the story of Acts 2, when the promised Spirit of God comes suddenly and powerfully upon the disciple community in Jerusalem.  Instead of scattering peoples and languages, this Spirit unites them.

In the contemporary film BABEL filmmakers Alejandro Iñárritu and Guillermo Arriaga trace the consequences of one impetuous act which sends shock waves through the lives of four different families on three different continents, linking them to each other in a chain of tragic events that changes their lives forever. When two Moroccan goat herding brothers, testing the limits of a new rifle, randomly hit a tourist bus, it quickly becomes an international incident with lasting ramifications for the brothers, for an American couple on board the bus and their Mexican nanny and children back home, and for a Japanese businessman and his deaf-mute daughter.  Events spiral out of control in “a whirlwind of rash judgments, linguistic barriers and sheer bad luck.” (Neil Smith)

In a world that grows smaller with each technological advance, and at a time in history when communication is—supposedly—easier than ever, the film portrays how isolated and apt to miscommunicate we truly are.  And how quickly our cultural biases and presuppositions become avenues for confusion, fear and violence.  Using the Tower of Babel parable as its starting point the film shows, on the one hand, how interconnected our lives have become, and on the other hand, how limited our ability remains for reaching across barriers to create and sustain human community.  If we need any further corroboration of this, we need look no further than this year’s election rhetoric!

Language can coerce or it can liberate.  It can deceive or it can reveal.  It can manipulate or it can illuminate.  Human hubris, says the story, forever desires to (1) make a name for itself, (2) maintain control, and (3) resist change. The human chorus rising up from the ancient plains of Shinar (quoted above) confirms these tendencies.

Amazed and astonished they asked,   “How is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native tongue?”

– Acts 2:7, 8

But for all of us who find communication challenging; for all who struggle to find the right words for the right time—words that bridge the gap, that build relationship instead of tearing it down—Pentecost, is a day of hope. God’s Spirit is unleashed, bringing not only a new energy to God’s people but a fresh capacity to listen and to understand. God opens ears, loosens tongues, and links people to each other in a chain of gracious events that changes lives forever.  On this day, people from different countries, races and cultures, speaking scores of different languages, find their ears and their hearts open to one another in a way that was never before possible.  On Pentecost the voice of the OTHER, whose thoughts and experiences had been beyond reach, comes in crystal clear through a miracle of the ear, and the tongue of fire becomes a flame that has kept burning in each generation since.

During a retreat last month, we asked our confirmands to articulate how they intend to live out the five baptismal promises/practices as they move forward with their lives of faith.  I was impressed with what they wrote.  Their vision of participation and servanthood reflects the lively, inclusive, and compassionate flame that ignited the Christian movement 20 centuries ago.  On Pentecost Sunday we will celebrate the Spirit’s work within the lives of these five young women as we gather to bless them and pray for the Spirit’s continuing accompaniment.

Then, on the Sunday following Confirmation, three infants will be brought to the waters of the Font by their parents, and the whole gracious chain of events will begin once more!  We all have a place and a role in that circle.  Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

Pastor Erik

 

 

 

Stay with us, till night has come: our praise to you this day be sung,

Bless our bread, open our eyes: Jesus be our great surprise

Walk with us, our spirits sigh: hear when our weary spirits cry,

feel again our loss, our pain: Jesus take us to your side.

Walk with us, the road will bend: make all our weeping, wailing end.

Wipe our tears, forgive our fears: Jesus lift the heavy cross.

Talk with us, till we behold, a joyful life you will unfold:

heal our eyes to see the prize: Jesus take us to the light!

Stay with us, till day is done: no tears nor dark shall dim the sun.

Cheer the heart, your grace impart: Jesus, bring eternal life.

Herbert Brokering, Stay With Us

Beloved of God,

Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!

The lyrics and melody of certain songs touch me to the quick. Herb Brokering’s hymn Stay With Us (With One Voice #743) is one of them. His poem is a meditation on the road to Emmaus journey (Luke 24) that two disciples of Jesus take on the evening of the Resurrection.  As they walk together, struggling to come to terms with the reality of Jesus’ death, a stranger comes and begins to walk beside them; a stranger who not only becomes their companion on the way but their teacher and, as they finally discover during their shared meal, is none other than their Risen Lord!  Brokering takes the experience of their longing, grieving, and joyous hearts and makes them our own, with marvelous result.

Luke is the only gospel writer to share the story of this resurrection walk with Jesus. Walking with Jesus, the Emmaus story tells us, is a journey full us surprises and unexpected grace! What does your walk with our risen Lord Jesus look like in these post-Easter days?  How is the surprise and deep joy of the proclamation, HE IS RISEN, animating your daily existence?  How can you share that joy transparently with those with whom you share your Monday through Saturday life?

The truth is, every day is a day spent in the presence of our Risen Lord.  Therefore, we can talk about every day as a day in which we walk with Jesus.  Of course, on some days we feel Jesus’ presence powerfully, while on others the pressures of life leave us feeling quite a distance from him.  The Good News is, regardless of what we may feel on any given day, the spirit of the risen Jesus is here.  Jesus walks with us every day, just as he promised he would. His accompaniment is something we can always count on, no matter what the circumstances of our lives may be.

As the month of April unfolds, we will experience Christ’s accompaniment in our Sunday worship when we, like those Emmaus travelers, gather around bread and wine.  But we will also experience it on numerous other occasions: when we join with the people of Our Lady Guadalupe for a joint service day on Saturday April 16; when we work in yards and gardens preparing the soil and seeds for another year of growth; and when we share a smile or listen to another’s troubles; or make a meal for someone in need; when we stand up for someone who’s being taken advantage of; pray for someone who has offended us; bless our loved ones before bed.  For we who are people of the Empty Tomb, Easter isn’t a once a year event but a way of life.

Talk with us, till we behold, a joyful life you will unfold: heal our eyes to see the prize: Jesus take us to the light

Much of the news that dominates the air waves works to pull us toward the dark, drag us back toward the tomb.  But we are Easter people – and we won’t allow that to happen!  We have glimpsed the end of the story, the prize, and we accept with gratitude the joyful life that our risen Lord unfolds before us, day by day.  Thanks be to God!

With Easter joy,

Pastor Erik

 

Marvelous Truth, confront us at every turn, in every guise…

dwell in our crowded hearts, our steaming bathrooms,

kitchens full of things to be done, the ordinary streets. Thrust close your smile that we know you, terrible joy.

– Denise Levertov, Matins

Beloved of God,

The table is set for the final weeks of Lent, for the Three Days, and our celebration of Christ’s resurrection.  A team of planners and dreamers has been working behind the scenes to shape these worship services of the coming weeks in meaningful and engaging ways.  The Spirit has promised to be present and all that’s needed now is you. So come—and not alone!—as we complete the journey that culminates at the foot of the cross and in the light of the empty tomb.  A Marvelous Truth awaits us there, a truth that longs to transform the mundane spaces of our lives into arenas of resurrection.  Let’s make the journey together!

The Vision Catcher which hangs above the Altar/Table is changing bit by bit, week by week (have you noticed?) as we envision new ways to live out the five fundamental promises and practices of baptism within our community life:

Living among God’s faithful people;

Hearing the word of God and sharing in the Lord’s Supper;

Proclaiming the good news of God in Christ through word and deed;

Serving all people, following the example of Jesus;

Striving for justice and peace in all the earth

St. Paul speaks of baptism as dying with Christ in order that we might also be raised with him, and—truth be told—there is something in each of these promises/practices that demands a kind of death.  “Living among God’s people”   requires showing up; letting loose of the weekend “have to do” list long enough for our feet to find their way on to the path toward community.  “Hearing the word” requires turning off the babble of other voices and sounds—whether our own or others, whether alarms or invitations—so God’s still small voice can penetrate to our souls.   You catch the drift.  There’s what we might call a “little death” involved in each of these practices.  Amy Plantinga Pauw writes:

“As followers of Jesus, we are not to save death and dying for the end of our lives. Life in Christ requires dying now.  Those who hope in God as the redeemer from death must enter into the vulnerable, suffering love that leads to the cross.  The entire Christian life draws us into an ongoing ‘death,’ in which we die to everything that thwarts God’s intentions for life, peace, and joy.” (from Practicing our Faith)

In coming weeks we’ll follow the drama of Jesus: his anointing, his final meal, his betrayal and arrest, his abandonment by friends, his suffering and death; his being raised from the tomb.  This drama all gets packed into a few days.  But in reality, we live most of our lives between Good Friday and Easter, between the cross and the open tomb.  We live with pain in its many forms, we enter relationships, we leave them; we embrace, we let go.  We yearn for something beyond ourselves, outside of our grasp, that we can count on.  We long for a word, a sign, a promise, a person whom we can trust, who will know us intimately and love us unconditionally.  That person is Jesus.

At Font and Table Jesus calls us into a community; meeting us there he anoints us to be his presence here and now for each other and for the world.  We bear his treasure in the clay jars of our lives.  And because he remains faithful, we discover him still “in our crowded hearts, our steaming bathrooms, kitchens full of things to be done, the ordinary streets,” and all is well! This is the journey we’re on together.

Living in Resurrection Hope.

Pastor Erik

The LORD brought Abram outside and said,

“Look at the heavens and count the stars, if you are able to count them.

So shall your descendants be.”

– Genesis 15:5

People of the Covenant,

As we begin the season of Lent this month, we prepare ourselves for a journey once more; a journey with Christ that takes us from the source waters of baptism to the foot of the cross.  What will we steer by along the way?  Who will be our guide during these 40 days?  Our Wednesday evening gatherings with sisters and brothers from Calvary (our final time for sharing, since Calvary will be completing its ministry in June of this year) will focus on the five baptismal promises/practices that we make at the baptismal font.  In response to God’s adoption of us as beloved children, we commit ourselves to: Living among God’s faithful people; Hearing the word of God and share in the Lord’s supper; Proclaiming the good news of god in Christ through word & deed; Serving all people, following the example of Jesus; Striving for justice and peace in all the earth.  Baptism is the wellspring for our lifelong relationship with Christ.  I hope you will participate in the simple rhythm of Meal and Worship and the conversation we look forward to together.

What else can guide us as we take up the Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving?  Brother Martin once addressed this question in response to a query posed by his barber Peter.  “How should an ordinary person like me pray?” Peter asked.  In response, Luther wrote A SIMPLE WAY TO PRAY, encouraging Christians to pray in their own words rather than reciting prayers they had memorized, and to trust the Holy Spirit to guide them.  Though Christians nowadays have more experience with personal prayer than the men and women of Luther’s day, we can still sometimes feel uncomfortable or inadequate in our praying.  Luther offered to his barber Peter, and offers us, a simple way forward.

Start with a scripture text or hymn, wrote Luther, and read it four ways.

  • Read it as a schoolbook, reflecting upon what God is teaching you.
  • Read it as a song or praise book, giving thanks to God for the gifts God give or bring to your awareness.
  • Read it as a penitential book, confessing your sins, your needs, and your weaknesses as they are reveled to you.
  • Turn the words into a short prayer you may speak to God.

There are no “right” or “wrong” prayers in this approach. Luther’s core conviction was that the Scriptures are not intended to fill our heads with interesting ideas, but to bring the active power of God’s Word into our lives.[1] Perhaps this is where we can begin our own Lenten journey.

Whatever other practices might guide our feet, we can also take our cue from the Genesis 15 above. Years have passed since Abram first heard God’s word of promise—“you will have an heir”—yet he and Sarai remain childless. In a vision God visits Abram to reassure him, but Abram wants something more. So God invites Abram out of his tent and tells him to look up at the stars. COUNT THEM, IF YOU CAN MANAGE, God says. SO SHALL YOUR DESCENDANTS BE. Beholding those stars, Abram is struck by the enormity and sweep of God’s promise with is for him and beyond him. And trust finds a nesting place in his heart once more. On this Lenten journey we do not place our trust in our ability to successfully follow disciplines or acquire good habits—though are helpful things to do. Our invitation is always and forever to trust that what God promises, God will deliver. Those stars are a confirmation of that promise, so keep your head up!

Pastor Erik

 

[1] Luther’s response “For Peter, the Master Barber” is summarized in Kathryn Kleinhans, Lenten Journey: Seven Wonders of the Word. (Augsburg Fortress, 2010)

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

1 Corinthians 13:1

Beloved of God,

What a gift these days of light at the beginning of 2016 have been!  After December’s record rains and weeks on end of gray skies the return of the Sun’s brilliant light has lifted my soul upwards.  Our family spend much of January 1st at Lincoln Park as Kai and Naomi tried out inline skates—gifts from the grandparents who know how important it is for young bodies to be in motion.  The sun’s light is a fitting accompaniment to this Season of Light, when we mark how the Starchild Jesus, now grown, begins in his public ministry to shine the light and love of God on our dark and weary world. The plea of a favorite hymn springs to mind:

Christ, be our light! Shine in our hearts!  Shine through the darkness.

Christ, be our light! Shine in your church gathered today!

This month a series of special worship services help to focus that light for us: The Baptism of our Lord (1/10); the annual commemoration of the life and witness of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (1/17); Reconciling in Christ (RIC) Sunday (1/23); and our Annual Meeting Sunday (1/31). Each occasion focuses the light of Christ in specific ways, and we’ll be hearing some new voices as well as familiar ones.  (Read more about them under OUR WORSHIP LIFE below.)

In this season after Epiphany we’ll be hearing a series of readings from Paul’s first letter to the Christians at Corinth.  In his first letter to this troubled community—so gifted and yet so competitive that they’ve forgotten what their gifts are for—Paul moves point by point through each conflict they face, calling them to unity of purpose and commitment. By the time he reaches the 12th chapter, he’s ready to propose a powerful new analogy for who the people of God are—diverse members of the one body of Christ.  “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.” (1 Cor. 12:12-13)

The whole letter leads up to chapter 13—the love chapter.  When couples choose a reading from chapter 13 for their wedding, I often remind them that while Paul says much about love in this chapter, never does he say “love is blind.”  God does not turn a blind eye to our faults and thus is able to love us.  No.  In Christ God sees us clearly—through and through—and in spite of all our faults and failings, loves us nonetheless. This is the heart of the gospel—unmerited grace!  We can’t do a single thing to earn it—it simply IS.  And because we are claimed by this love that “will not let us go” this assurance frees us to stop counting up points (it’s not a competition!) and instead to focus our response on practicing love. For no matter how gifted we are—as individuals or as a community—those gifts won’t mean anything if we fail to communicate the unconditional love of God.

Perhaps you know someone who is particularly gifted at loving.  Have you ever wondered how they do it?  How they show it?  What you can learn from them?  This is a season for turning our thoughts toward the light and toward those whom we recognize as light-bringers.  I’m reading a book right now that follows a family in Warsaw during World War 2.  The book, The Zookeeper’s Wife, by Diane Ackerman, is based on the journals of Antonina Zabinski who, with her husband Jan, was a caretaker of the world class Warsaw Zoo when the war began.  It follows their harrowing journey through the loss of the zoo’s rare animals during the initial German blitzkrieg, their care for surviving animals of the two-legged as well as four-legged kind, their efforts to feed and harbor friends and strangers, Jew and non-Jew alike, and their connection to the Polish Underground resistance—all while raising their young son Rys and bearing a second child, daughter Teresa.  It’s a remarkable story, and one in which, time and time again, I have been struck by how big Antonina’s heart is—how ripe to take risks for others in spite of her fear—how large her capacity to love.  In the end, around 300 people survived the Nazi occupation of Warsaw due to the Zabinski’s advocacy and provision of safe haven.

As we begin a new year, there’s plenty of evidence in the world that hate is alive and well.  But Paul’s testimony is that the love with which God loves us, “bearing all things, believing all things, hoping all things, enduring all things,” will never end.  As we see such love bursting forth and refracting in Jesus’s life and ministry, how can we resist following?

Pastor Erik

 

 

 

 

“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel!”

To all who await God’s visitation,

We’re here once more crossing the threshold into Advent—the season of longing, waiting, and watching for signs of God’s presence among us.  It’s a favorite season in our household for a number of reasons; special sights, sounds, and smells, the candle ritual with devotions at the dinner table, and the built in countdown to Christmas, to name a few. This year a new marker was added—the Advent Service of Lessons and Carols hosted by St. Mark’s Cathedral.

We arrived with our friend early enough to procure front row seats for the packed service and we were not disappointed. Attending a worship service with my family where someone else is in charge is always special. We had many opportunities to do so during my sabbatical and the experience at St. Mark’s on November 29th reminded me of this. As the choir intoned the first notes of the liturgy, their voices rising with incense to envelop the cavernous space, I felt emotion rise within me. I was being transported to St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, where we had found refuge one sodden afternoon, arriving in time for the 5pm Eucharist.  Many times throughout our travels we found it was liturgies such as this—and evensong in particular—that anchored us, providing us with the sense that by touching the Sacred we were touching Home. Now that feeling, too rich and subtle for words, came over me once more.

The core of St. Mark’s Advent Service was built upon the O Antiphons, those ancient stanzas by which the church has invoked the Divine Presence for centuries in the weeks leading up to the Feast of the Incarnation.  Each of the seven stanzas addresses the Messiah by one of his titles; each praises the coming of the Savior by a different name:

O Wisdom, you came forth from the mouth of the Most High, and reach from one end of the Earth to the other,

mightily and sweetly ordering all things: Come teach us the way of prudence!

O Adonai, ruler of the house of Israel, you appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush,

on Mount Sinai you gave him your law: with outstretched arm, come and redeem us!

O Root of Jesse, you stand as an ensign to the people; before you kings shall keep silence,

all nations bow in worship: Come and save us , and do not delay!

O Key of David, and scepter of the house of Israel; you open and no one closes; you close and no one opens:

come and deliver us from the chains of prison, we who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death!

O Rising Dawn, brightness of the light eternal, sun of righteousness:

come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death!

O King of Nations, and their desire, you are the cornerstone that binds two into one:

come and save the creature whom you have fashioned from clay!

O Emmanuel, our King and Lawgiver, the Desire of all nations and their Salvation:

come and save us, O Lord our God!

These antiphons date back at least to the reign of Charlemagne (771-814), and one source suggests they were in use in some form as early as the 6th century.  Through the wondrous and complex choral setting written by Peter Hallock and beautifully executed by the choirs of St. Marks, the Antiphons soared, carrying our spirits with them.

These antiphons of Advent remind me where I need to keep my attention focused this season.  The health, healing, safety, and wholeness I seek—the Bible’s word is salvation—cannot be ordered from Amazon or procured from any source but God alone.  The wonder of the season is that, when it finally does come, it’s in a form that neither I nor the world can recognize by the packaging.  Yet, it—or rather he— still comes, as a babe in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

Homeless families seek shelter where they can remain together; communities of color struggle for equal treatment under the law; refugees long for new places to call home; world leaders discuss scenarios for limiting climate breakdown; another enraged shooter claims the lives of innocent victims.  This is the world we live in; a world where shattered lives raise their voices in hope of deliverance.  We need a Savior!  The miracle of Christmas is that he is already “God with us.”  God grant us the eyes to recognize Emmanuel and the hearts to embrace him however, whenever, and wherever he comes among us.

Living in hope,

Pastor Erik

 

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us…run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat the right hand of the throne of God.”

– Hebrews 12:1-2

Beloved of God,

Recognize any of these names—Gladys Peterson, Neale Nelson, Larry Carlson, Doris Cory, Carl Hjortsvang, Luther Anderson?  All these people played leading roles in the first years of our congregation’s unfolding life and mission.  70+ years after the fact, many of them have joined the Saints in glory, but this congregation they helped to found remains a vibrant, living community of faith thanks to the contributions each of them made as part of the founding generation.

As we mark All Saints Sunday this month, we call to mind all the dear ones through the generations—those we know and those known only to God—who have helped to give shape to our lives of faith.  November 2015 is the 71st anniversary month of Peace’s founding.  That means that our 75th Diamond Jubilee Anniversary is a mere four years away.  In the coming months, we’ll begin the process of thinking together about how we want to prepare together for that 75th celebration.  I, for one, am looking forward to seeing where our vision takes us!  I hope you are too.

November is one of the pivot months in the church year.  Beginning with All Saints, our recognition of sisters and brothers who have finished their life journey reminds us that we stand on the shoulders of those who came before us.  Later, on the final Sunday of the Pentecost Season, we welcome new people into our fellowship—this time two young ones through the sacrament of Baptism.  Thanksgiving Day follows closely after, reminding us that gratitude is the only fitting response to the God “from whom all blessings flow.”  Finally, as November ends, a new Advent season begins, reminding us how God is present in all the seasons of our lives, coming among us in Jesus to make all things new.

For all these reasons, and many more, November is a fitting month for talking about our stewardship of what God has given us.   I hope you’ll make a special effort to be in worship these first three weeks of November as we celebrate the SPIRIT OF COMMUNITY here at Peace through the themes of LOVE, GIVING, and PROMISE.  Something that Parker Palmer wrote about the nature of ABUNDANCE left a deep impression on me recently and I want to share it with you.

“Abundance does not happen automatically. It is created when we have the sense to choose community, to come together to celebrate and share our common store. Whether the scarce resource is money or love or power or words, the true law of life is that we generate more of whatever seems scarce by trusting its supply and passing it around. Authentic abundance does not lie in secured stockpiles of food or cash or influence or affection but in belonging to a community where we can give those goods to others who need them—and receive them from others when we are in need.” – Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak

God has richly blessed this community of which we are part. The Spirit of Community lives at Peace, and is still unfolding.  In a world that sees fear and mayhem around every corner, we proclaim and embody an alternative vision.  The God of grace and generosity abides with us, and because this is true, we can sing:

“O God of blessings all praise to you! Your love surround us our whole life through. You are the freedom of those oppressed, you are the comfort of all distress. Come now, O holy and welcome guest: Soli Deo Gloria!” [1]

Pastor Erik

[1] Text by Marty Haugen, Soli Deo Gloria (To God alone be the glory), from hymn number 878 in Evangelical Lutheran Worship.

The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would spout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle because the harvest has come. – Mark 4:26-29

Dearly Beloved,

As October begins I’m struck by the number of events and engagements that come with it. When it comes to our life of worship, education, and service October is chock-full! While trees in the northern hemisphere give up their fruit and leaves, grains are harvested, and fields turn fallow, we gear up for opportunities to learn, participate, celebrate and serve. There are reasons for this. The good news that God is with us for good in Jesus compels us to plumb this truth, and to faithfully embody it in lives of service. Events this month like WEAVING OUR STRENGTHS, the hosting of MARY’S PLACE FAMILIES, BLESSING QUILTS, WRITING LETTERS, FOOD BANK AUCTIONS, and RAINGARDEN projects provide specific opportunities for us to love neighbors (and Earth) in tangible ways. Educational opportunities bring us closer to God’s word and the application of this word to the contexts in which we live.

All this is important—all this is good! And yet, Jesus says, God is afoot via mystery. God’s work through the Spirit happens without our knowledge or consent; indeed, it is the nature of the kingdom to grow and flourish, we know not how. This seems to be another way of saying, we’re not in charge of the growth, but we get to participate in it; we’re not responsible for the kingdom, but we are included in it. Sometimes, we experience our “not-in-charge-ness” in ways that challenge and reshape our understanding.

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you are sharing Christ’s sufferings, so that you may also be glad and shout for joy when his glory is revealed. – 1 Peter 4:12-13

The wildland fires that dominated the news here in Washington, quickening our prayers during recent months, have slid to the back pages. But even though the largest fires are now mostly contained, the consequences of these fires will exert themselves for years to come. Some of you had family near one or more of these blazes or other attachments to these areas that burned out of control for weeks on end. Many of us were glued to news about the Wolverine Fire that surrounded Holden Village. Thankfully, the Village came through the fire largely unscathed. In a recent blogpost, Holden co-directors Peg and Chuck Carpenter wrote:

The Forest Service is concerned about surrounding risks, mostly involving the road—they speak of “hazards known and unknown.” Some immediate risks will be abated by the removal of burned trees and rocks that could (and sometimes do) fall from the slopes above. That constitutes “the hazards known.” What remains to be seen are “the hazards unknown,” which will only be revealed by the autumn winds and rains, the winter snows, and the spring runoff. In the coming months, the forest will reveal its strengths and its weaknesses. It will speak to us in new ways, in new growth, soil movement, and avalanches. It will tell us what it needs and show us how to best deal with its new form.

For millions of years nature has practiced the way of renewing forests we call the forest fire. This path of renewal is not without risk. Hazards, known and unknown, and human heartache accompany this process of renewal. But there is a tenacity of spirit built into the natural cycle of life in forest and grasslands which allows new life to emerge from ground that looks for all the world to be burned out and barren. Some seed cones, in fact, germinate only after fire has released the growth potential they harbor within.

There is a tenacity of spirit built into the people of God, too, that enables us to keep on rebuilding, to keep on trying new forms of engagement, new ways of scattering seed, so that the Good News can take root. This, too, is mystery. Yet we’re not called to be casual observers; we’re called to participate in it.

One of my favorite authors died recently—Phyllis Tickle.[1] Tickle had a long career as a scholar in the publishing business, focusing on religion in America. Her pithy observations, the books she authored and the talks she gave made her one of our nation’s leading public intellectuals on all things religious.  Her book THE GREAT EMERGENCE sets our rapidly evolving Christian faith into a larger frame, allowing us to get a balcony view of where this river of faith might be running.[2]

“Christianity isn’t going to die!” she exclaimed recently, “It just birthed out a new tributary to the river.  Christianity is reconfiguring, it’s almost going through another adolescence. And it’s going to come out a better, more mature adult. There’s no question about that.”[3]

When we next visit Holden, what may stand out is what the Wolverine fire took away, we must keep our eyes peeled for what the fire gave as well—both to the human community which inhabits Railroad Creek Valley and the natural community there. God is ever at work within, among, and between us. It’s risky business—but business that God was willing to enter into without reservation in Jesus. And work God continues, through the Spirit, to be about today. And we are participants. Thanks be to God!

Pastor Erik

[1] You can read more about Phyllis Tickle in a wonderful article by David Gibson written four months before her death: http://www.religionnews.com/2015/09/22/author-phyllis-tickle-faces-death-just-enjoyed-life-dying-next-career/ Some of the material here comes from this article.

[2] Phyllis Tickle, The Great Emergence. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2008.)

[3] Ibid. David Gibson article.