Beloved of God,

“Geocaching.” Ever heard the term? If the answer is NO, there’s a good chance you don’t own a smart phone or spend much time on the internet. It’s a word that was coined twelve years ago this month when, on May 2, 2000, at approximately midnight, Eastern Time, the great blue switch* controlling selective signal availability was flipped. Twenty four satellites orbiting the globe processed their new orders, and instantly the accuracy of global positioning system (GPS) technology improved tenfold, and tens of thousands of GPS receivers around the world had an instant upgrade. By locking on to any three orbiting satellites the GPS could now triangulate your position to an exact location almost anywhere on the globe.

“Geocaching,” first coined on May 30th of that year, is the joining of two familiar words: the prefix GEO, for Earth, and CACHING, from the word CACHE. “Cache” has two different meanings: (1) The French word invented in 1797 refers to a hiding place one would use to temporarily store items (think voyageurs and pirates). (2) The contemporary, technological term refers to computer storage capacity used to quickly retrieve frequently used information. Simply put, geocaching is a real-world outdoor treasure hunting game in which players try to locate hidden containers, called geocaches, using GPS-enabled devices and then share their experiences online. [Want to learn more? Go to: http://www.geocaching.com]

I got my first taste of geocaching the last Saturday of April when I headed to Vashon Island with Nicole K and five confirmands for a day-long “roving” retreat. There the seven of us (Ike, K2, Kyle, Noah, Stuart, Nicole, and me) found ourselves staring at the screen on Nicole’s iPhone, with one blinking dot telling us YOU ARE HERE, and another one pinpointing the location of the secret cache we were seeking. During the course of our five geocaches quests we posed with Cool Gary, avoided (barely) confrontations with NRA zealots (the sign with the revolver read: “Nothing I own is worth your life”), searched for clues left in rusted out boat hulls, and traipsed through old forests and thickets of nettles—all the while searching for the hidden treasure.

Sometimes the treasure cache was simply a small waterproof container with a log sheet we could sign indicating, “we were here.” Other times, in addition to a log, the cache contained tokens left by folks who’d been there before us. One cache contained a geo-token that we were invited to transport to another cache location, and then register the token’s key on a website, so that the originator could map his/her token’s cross country journey over time. The possibilities are endless…what a gas!

Throughout the Easter season the Sunday readings from Acts address the questions: What does the Spirit of the risen Christ do, unleashed into the world? Where does it go? What effect does it have? Whom does it touch? Each story in these opening chapters bears witness to Christ’s living presence and the Spirit’s transforming work in the fledging church. Each chapter invites and enlists us as witnesses—(as opposed to bystanders!)—who share in God’s mission of bringing gospel treasure into the neighborhoods and communities in which we live.

Here in Acts, with heart and mind locked on the Spirit, we find ourselves traveling to the heart of Jerusalem as a multilingual crowd suddenly hears good news in language they can understand; we see the disciple community practicing care for each other in such a way that no one has need; we peer into the once-useful begging bowl of a once-crippled man whose life and future have been given a new lease in Jesus’ name; we witness the bold courage of Peter and John refusing to be cowed by the institutional powers-that-be; we ride with an Ethiopian emissary as Philip comes alongside him, becoming his tutor and baptizer. On and on the Spirit goes, gaining momentum through ever widening circles, crossing boundaries once considered unassailable, and carrying us along in her wake. No stone is left unturned (or unrolled), no stump unsearched, no place is too remote. The gospel’s trajectory is unstoppable!

All these stories testify to the existence of true treasure and, like geocaching, give us routes to follow. But there’s one big difference. When you’re geocaching, the treasure, the goal, is beyond you and it’s up to you to read the clues and follow the signal until you find it. But when it comes to this journey of faith, the treasure, it turns out, comes to us! The One Triune God—triangulating via the divine global positioning system—locks on to each and every one of us and tirelessly seeks us out, emptying heaven to make contact. From all indications, God isn’t done playing yet. In fact, I have it on good authority that God won’t stop until every last one of us blinking dots has been linked back to the Source of love and has found its way home.  What an adventure we share! Thanks be to God!

Pastor Erik

Beloved of God,

How are you at entering a completely novel situation?  Are you a “go with the flow” kind of person? Or do you avoid new situations like the plague? Do you enter a new context spontaneously or do you try to prepare yourself as much as you can? Me, I like to get information in advance so I’ll feel more confident when I cross the threshold into a new place. We all have different ways of meeting up with something or someone new.  But sometimes, information is not available.  Sometimes, the context is so radically new that nothing can prepare us for what we face.

In each of the gospels, the disciples’ first reaction to the resurrection is one of fear. That’s not surprising, really.  Because in the face of things we don’t understand or can’t comprehend, in the face of questions that challenge our understanding of reality, fear and anxiety are almost always the first emotions to exert themselves.  That’s why nearly every time in the Scriptures that divine messengers and human beings meet the first words spoken are:  BE NOT AFRAID.  God knows how paralyzing fear can be.  God knows how fear diminishes our capacity to trust.

So it is no surprise that when Jesus speaks to his community as their risen Lord, he begins his greeting with the words, PEACE BE WITH YOU.   He begins with PEACE, and slowly, ever so slowly, fear unwinds and anxiety lessens, and then, new possibilities begin to emerge.  In back to back stories at the end of Luke’s gospel we can see how fear is finally overcome by faith and anxiety and despair are replaced by trust and confidence.  But this transformation doesn’t happen instantly!  It’s not a slam dunk!  When it comes to hearing the resurrection story and allowing the implications of that news to begin to register, once is not enough.  The first disciples needed it—and we need it—again and again.

During the 50 days of Easter we learn what it means to be Easter people.  We learn what it means to encounter the Risen Christ and to be sent by him into new territory as witnesses and servants of the Risen One.  But one Sunday, one worship experience, one trip to the Table, one Bible study, one conversation isn’t enough.  We need to be reminded of God’s grace and God’s call again and again.  We are Easter people, marked with the cross of Christ forever, and called to live our life in community in the context of a deep trust in our risen Savior.  Easter people who are learning to look at the world and their own experience through the lens of Christ’s resurrection. 

It took the disciples 50 days before they were ready to be witnesses, to bear good news in a form the world could recognize; to incarnate it; enflesh it; live it.  But whether it takes us 50 days or 50 years to grasp the transforming power that God makes available to us, we’ll keep on coming back here to this community, to this Word, to this Font and Table because this is where Christ promises he will meet us, and will calm our anxieties and banish our fears.

Not that fear and anxiety don’t try to creep back in.  But when we feel fear slinking into our thoughts and anxiety trying to take hold of our minds, we need to recall the words of Jesus:  PEACE BE WITH YOU.  And as his peace takes hold of us, fear is once more set aside and faith rises up to take its place, declaring: 

Ever with hope,

Pastor Erik

Beloved of God,

The griping happened without fail whenever we loaded the car for the hour-plus drive to our grandparents’ homes in Northfield: How long before we get there? So-and-so’s bothering me! I’m hungry!  I have to go to the bathroom! No sooner did we pull out of the driveway than the same old litany would begin. In response to this, a family rule was instituted in my family of origin: NO TALKING UNTIL WE REACH OWATONNA. Since Owatonna was 35 miles up the road, this rule guaranteed a half hour of relative quiet. No small feat in a station wagon with 10 people!

Of course, there were those times when an unresolved issue escalated to the point where traveling rules were violated, and it was at times like those we’d here Dad’s voice cut through the din: DO I NEED TO STOP THIS CAR?! Truth be told, I can’t remember Dad ever actually stopping the car; the mere threat of it was enough to make offenders repent—and quickly. The truth was, we didn’t know what would happen if Dad ever stopped the car, but we knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

So I can identify with the whole situation that unfolded for God’s people as they wandered in the wilderness year after year, losing heart and losing faith. How did they cope? They griped. WHY DID YOU BRING US OUT OF EGYPT IN THE FIRST PLACE? WE’RE GOING TO DIE HERE! THERE’S NO FOOD, NO WATER; THIS TRIP IS ALL ONE BIG MISERABLE MESS! (Deut 12:4f)

Of course, this was a case of selective amnesia. They had conveniently forgotten their experience as slaves in Egypt, and the fact that the food they loathed was the miraculous manna their lives had been sustained with.  Their lack of trust found them, once again, heading down a dead-end street. It was then that God stopped the car. Sure enough, the scene wasn’t a pretty one. Out came the snakes, and people start dying left and right.

Snakes are symbolic creatures whose presence suggests double meanings. On the one hand, they are stealthy and have a bite that kills. On the other hand, they are symbols of healing and transformation. By the end of this story, the snakes’ death-dealing nature has been transformed by God into a life-giving nature; a source of healing for the people of Israel.

The gospel during these weeks of Lent is all about God’s core values. Jesus expresses them so powerfully and clearly:

“Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

Lent is about returning to core values…God’s. By God’s mercy, the serpent was transformed from a symbol of death into an instrument of healing. By God’s grace, Jesus, who suffered death for our sake, became the Way to eternal, resurrected life.

On this Lenten wilderness journey we gather beneath the cross of Jesus because we believe that there is something here for us and for our broken world that nothing and no one else can provide. Beneath this cross of Jesus we meet a God rich in mercy whose core values teach us that there is no obstacle too great for God to overcome. Oh! What good news!

God’s core values are clear. God transforms dead-ends into new beginnings, closed books into open subjects, contentious conflicts into opportunities for growth, cruel death into joyful resurrection. Our vocation as God’s people is to show and to share these core values with neighbors, family, friends, coworkers, and a world in desperate need of them.  This, my friends, is our privileged calling.

With you, on the Way,

Pastor Erik

Beloved of God,

The life of our congregation is like a dance.  On Sundays that dance gathers us around God’s Word and Sacraments, and then sends us out to be Christ’s body in the world…doing God’s work, with our hands (and feet!).  Within this larger whole, each small group/task force/committee and ministry team has its own series of steps, and moves to the beat of its own rhythm.  Fitting the choreography of each smaller group’s ministry into the larger whole in such a way that the rhythms and actions compliment each other instead of detracting from each other (or step on one another’s toes!), is an ongoing task.

At times we need to get off the dance floor and up to the balcony for a more comprehensive view of what’s happening in the life of our congregation.  That, in part, is what our annual meetings are about—the Bulletin of Reports provides an overarching view of our mission over the past year.  But if we flip to the green pages (financial summary) or pink pages (proposed budget) without reading the yellow pages (vision/mission plan), or white ones (small group/task force/committee reports) we’ll be missing something crucial.

A couple of paragraphs on paper won’t begin to tell the whole story, of course.  Our ministry is about flesh and blood people and relationships—the slideshow at our meeting helps remind us of that.  But the reports and figures do tell part of the story of how we, collectively, have lived out our calling as God’s dancing people during the year past.

This month marks the 7^th anniversary of my Call to serve as your pastor.  These seven years have been a rich and growing time for me personally, as well as our congregation.  Each year has brought unique challenges, some anticipated and some unanticipated.  The dance continues now in 2012 with a new Vision for Mission Plan embraced by our congregation on January 29.   So…slip on your shoes— it’s time to head back to the dance floor!  (You can read about the specifics in the summary of actions from the meeting, below.)

Funding our collective mission in 2012 will require us to step up and out in new ways.  In 2011 we scaled back our goal for funding our mission and, for the first time in seven years, our aggregate level of giving fell to less than it was the year before.  This year you have endorsed a spending plan that looks forward more boldly.  There is no reason why we can’t turn things back around in 2012.  In addition to our regular spending plan (budget), a newly authorized Capital Campaign Working Group will be begin work soon to set forth a process for raising the capital necessary to achieve the facilities goals we’ve now established as part of our Vision for Mission Plan.  Coupled with our plans for bringing a new Music Director on board, all this points to 2012 being another year of transition for us at Peace.

As we begin incorporating these new dance steps to our repertoire, we’ll be utilizing our God-given gifts and talents for ministry.  And with the Lord of the Dance beside us, guiding our steps along the way, we are wonderfully poised to turn opportunities into tangible emblems of God’s presence and power.  I’m game for that…how about you?

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Erik

Beloved of God,

What will this new year, 2012, hold?  When the calendar turns I begin imagining and hoping what the year will bring;  the places I’d like to go, the people to see, the goals to reach, the crises to avoid, the habits (healthy ones!) to cultivate.  How about you?  How far will you allow your imagination to carry you this year?

There are some voices out there that have identified 2012 as the year in which humankind will see “the end of the world as we know it.”  Despite the many examples of false “end time” predictions through the centuries, some interpreters of the so-called “Mayan calendar” suggest the end of the world will take place on or near the winter solstice of 2012.  Hollywood is already cashing in on the theme.  This is not a new phenomenon but an old, familiar one.  Only time will tell.

In the meantime, we as a congregation have some work to do!  There are significant decisions ahead for us this month as we consider the shape our VISION and MISSION PLAN will take in the next 5-10 years, and as we decide what level of commitment we will bring to the table as we prioritize and fund our congregational ministries.  There’s a lot to be excited about, and I hope each of you will be full participants in the process.  These decisions belong to all of us acting together—not just a few.

In his gospel, Matthew packs a whole bunch of short, pithy parables of Jesus into the 13th chapter.  Jesus is at his best as a teacher here—using common images from everyday life as new metaphors for understanding what God is up to in the world:  “The kingdom of heaven is like… a mustard seed…yeast in a batch of dough…treasure hidden in a field… a merchant searching for fine pearls.” Who would ever have thought that the reign of God would be so accessible and at the same time so subtly hidden in ordinary things?  Jesus invites us inside each image and gives us permission to activate our own imaginations to consider how and where God is at work in our everyday lives turning sorrow to joy, dead ends to new beginnings, and small gestures to grand movements of grace.  When we can see God anew in ordinary places of our lives there’s no end to the myriad ways we can experience “God-with-us.”

This week I presided at a memorial service for a woman I never met, but who has touched the lives of students and colleagues over a period of decades.  Her name is Marcelyn Shadow, and she once was a member at Peace.  By all accounts, Marcy left a deep and powerful legacy of learning and caring in the lives of hundreds of her middle school students.  Her zeal for teaching and her unorthodox classroom style ignited a desire for learning that led a number of her former students into teaching careers of their own.  When it came to working with these kids, Marcy was “all in.” Teaching was her true vocation, the place where “the world’s deep hunger” and her “deep gladness” converged.^[1] Where is that place for you?  That’s a question worth asking as the rhythm of the new year begins.

Blessings on the Way,

Pastor Erik

[1] Frederick Buechner

Beloved of God,

We had (we thought) no other choice. So when the bell signaling the end of lunch period rang at Brookside Junior High School in Albert Lea, Minnesota, the twenty or so of us who were so compelled did not return to class; we stayed outside. Walking en masse to the corner of the school property we turned and waited for whatever was next.

The whole thing had started that morning during a schoolwide assembly. A fellow student in the bleachers had challenged a teacher’s admonition. The teacher, angered, responded by laying hands on the boy and manhandling him off the bleachers and out of the gym, making enough racket in the process that the whole assembled lot of us became witness. As soon as they exited the gym, however, the assembly went on as planned. Afterward, the treatment our fellow student received was the subject of much conversation. During lunch his friends spoke about the injustice of what had happened. A line had been crossed. I agreed. What could be done about it? A walk-out seemed the best option. So with adrenaline pumping, that’s what we did. Now, as minutes ticked away, we looked at the building for a sign of what would happen next. How would the administration respond? What would our fellow students think of us and what we’d done? Would our parents be called? Would we be expelled?

After what seemed like a supremely long interval, Mr. Xavier, our principal, (who happened to be a member of the congregation my father served at the time) emerged from school and walked over to us. He asked and we told him why we were there. He promised to meet with a delegation of us to talk about the incident if we would return to the building. His offer seemed sincere and we obliged.

Most of the kids who participated in the walk out were friends of the boy who’d been mistreated. They were a tough crew, from the “other side of the tracks.” “Kindem,” they told me, “you’re a goody-goody; you need to be part of the delegation.” I agreed. A half dozen others were chosen, including the fiery, dark haired girl who’d been the instigator of it all. We walked back into school and convened around a large table in a conference room adjacent to Mr. Xavier’s office. Though some of our number had surely visited his office before, none of us had ever sat at this table!

I can’t recall exactly what words were exchanged that afternoon, or even what the ultimate outcome of our protest was, but I know we felt heard. It seemed that our protest had accomplished something. The situation was defused. We all moved on. I will be forever grateful to Mr. Xavier for engaging us the way he did. It was a teachable moment, and he gave us a lesson in civility. He treated us and our concerns with respect. The forbearance he showed us left a deep impression on me, and allowed me to look him in the eye when I saw him later that week in church.

As we move through Advent toward the celebration of the Incarnation, the Scriptures offer up words of comfort, hope, and challenge along the way. One of these words to us comes from Paul’s letter to the congregation in Thessalonica. In the closing sentences he uses short, pithy phrases, to sum up the attitude and faith practices he is commending to them as they await the Lord’s return. (Above) Are his words applicable to our day and time? I hope so.

The use of pepper spray as a tool for crowd control here in Seattle, on the UC Davis campus, and at other places around the country has ignited a lively debate about the civil rights and responsibilities of police officers, citizens, and the elected officials who represent us all. Where is the line between civil and uncivil protest? Between appropriate and inappropriate use of force? When basic constitutional rights are at stake, robust public conversation—including public acts of protest—are essential. So is civility.

When a Black Friday shopper used pepper spray to achieve a competitive edge over other bargain hunters, and when security guards used Tasers to deal with a suspected shoplifter, they became stark reminders of a growing incivility in our culture. Placed alongside the revived unrest in democratically emergent Egypt and the violent storming of the British Embassy in Iran, they illustrate how high the stakes are. We could use Mr. Xavier right now. 

Waiting is an essential component of this season. But what should the character of our waiting be? According to St. Paul, it is an active, alert, joyful waiting: “Rejoice…pray…give thanks. Do not quench; do not despise; test everything, holding fast to the good and abstaining from evil.” As those who bear the name of Christ, we are called to practice these virtues not only as individual citizens but as a community of faith. As Henri Nouwen so aptly puts it: “As we await Christ’s coming, we remember him for whom we are waiting, and as we remember him we create a community ready to welcome him when he comes.” Do I hear an Amen?

Joyful waiting!

Pastor Erik

Then the LORD answered me and said:
Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so that a runner may read it.
For there is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end, and does not lie.
If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay.
– Habakkuk 2:2-3

Beloved of God,

November is a bridge month. Beginning with the feast of All Saints, it moves us through the final weeks of the church year to our Thanksgiving Day observance, and then deposits us in the arms of Advent—the season of hope, longing, and renewed expectation.  A richly embroidered worship life awaits our congregation this month…come & see! One of the most joyful occasions takes place on November 20th as new members join our fellowship and our mission; one—baby Luna—through the Sacrament of Baptism.  You can read about this and much more in the pages below.

Another important occasion comes on November 13th when the ReVision Task Force hosts an open forum on the draft Mission Plan.  The prophet Habakkuk learned the importance of a clear vision.  “MAKE IT PLAIN,” God told him; plain enough that a runner can grasp its meaning in the time it takes him to race on past.  I’m not sure our draft plan will pass that test, but I do hope it will lead us toward a bold and clear embrace of the gifts, skills, and resources we put to use for the sake of God’s reign.

God told Habakkuk to translate what he saw into words; words which spoke of endings. Our new Mission Plan calls us to do the reverse: to translate words on paper into action by bringing some long established capital goals to completion and ushering in new beginnings in several areas of our common ministry.  Look it over carefully when it arrives in the mail.  Pray about it.  Talk about it at home.  Then come on November 13th to join the conversation.

Stir up our hearts, O Lord, to prepare the way of your only son…

ADVENT OPPORTUNITY! As we look toward the season of Advent (November 27), I would like your help in identifying themes for building a four part worship series for the season.   Here’s the invitation:  Spend some focused time between now and November 13th thinking on the way(s) you long for God to “take on flesh,” to become incarnate, in this world.  Your reflection might be specific, or it might be general; it may encompass all humanity, or it may come from a very personal desire; it might reference the mission we’re about together or a personal call to be or do.  You are then invited to take the “fruit” of your reflection and to share it with me via email, letter, conversation, or phone call by November 13th.  My intention is that your input will serve as a catalyst for a sermon series this Advent.  Please take me seriously!  Let’s see where God might take us.

One final word. Chris and I have deeply appreciated the words, prayers, and other expressions of caring we’ve received from you in the wake of our sister in law Diane’s sudden death.  The way we care for each other in times like this speaks powerfully about how love becomes incarnate in our community life.  It’s a privilege to be part of such a congregation.

With gratitude,

Pastor Erik

 – Ray Makeever, Holy One, In You Alone. © 1993.

Beloved of God,

There are times in our lives when events or threads come together in such a way that we discern a shared meaning behind them.  (I say “we” because I know I’m not alone in this experience.)  At such times, elements that at first seemed separate become intertwined in a way which is beyond coincidence.  It was Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung who first put a word to this experience: synchronicity.  One of the features of this felt experience is that it can be crystal clear and at the same time fiendishly difficult to put into words.  There is a sense that an array of events/connections/ideas—some conscious and some below the surface—are engaging each other in such a way that the sum is greater than the parts. For people of faith through the ages a much older word may often apply – “providence” – the guidance, care and wisdom for our lives provided by God.

Four personal experiences over recent weeks have gathered themselves into a critical mass within me:  our communal marking of the Season of Creation; UW Professor Paul Johnson’s address on global climate change at the Greening Your Congregation workshop; my attendance at PLU’s Water Conference; and my encounter with songwriter Ray Makeever and his eloquent hymn Holy One, In You Alone at Holden Village. 

As I write to you, four facts on global climate change stand out for me.  (1) Carbon dioxide concentrations in earth’s atmosphere today are higher than they’ve been in 50 million years.  Decisions that human beings and human governments make over the next decade will determine whether the global temperature 100 years from now is 4 degrees higher than currently, or 12 degrees higher.*  (2) Climate change on planet Earth during our era is taking place at a pace 10 times faster than at any other period in the history of the planet.  (3) As the global average temperature rises, raising the freezing level in winter and reducing mountain snowpack, the average water flow in the Columbia River is projected to be 43% less than current levels by the year 2030.  (4) Less than 0.08% of the earth’s water is available for human use, yet over the next decade, human use will increase by at least 40%. 

The facts are numbing—and depressing.  And there are plenty more.  On such a scale, what difference can one person possibly make?

Throughout our Season of Creation we have sought to connect our faith life with the fate of Earth and all its inhabitants; to take God’s enfleshment in Jesus seriously enough to see how this whole garden planet has, from the beginning, been the sacred sphere for God’s unfolding plan of healing and restoration.  God’s deep incarnation in Christ leads us to deep affirmations of our purpose and mission as stewards of this world.  As we commit ourselves purposefully to this task by joining with congregations and faith communities around the world in the Green Faith movement, we will move from hand-wringing paralysis to crucial and purposeful action.  There’s the “we” again.  It’s about community, and the power of common minds and wills bent on making changes—personal, local, and global— that will leave this pale blue dot of a planet, this unparalleled gift from the Creator, habitable for future generations. 

This mission is daunting; and humbling, too; a road we can only travel together.  Information is an important ally.  Good science is essential.  That’s where efforts like the CLIMATE REALITY PROJECT come in.  But information is not by itself enough. A deeper process of conversion is called for.  And that’s where Ray Makeever’s poignant and powerful song Holy One, In You Alone comes in. 

When I encountered Ray at Holden during the Theological Symposium last month, I found myself recalling the impact of his music on my life and ministry over the course of 30+ years.  At the closing Eucharist service, Ray on his guitar, with wife Linda and daughter Sophie on their violins, introduced us to his hymn HOLY ONE, IN YOU ALONE.  I can’t speak for anyone else, but the effect the song had on me was immediate and has endured.  I am so struck by the simple, reflective melody, the way it moves and rests within its own rhythm, the hymn’s humble frame, and the sense both of relinquishment and hope it embodies.  Here—take in the words:

It’s that final verse which speaks in a particular way to the call we share as earthkeepers, and to the hope we share in the presence of the risen Christ!  This month, as we participate in the CROP WALK, as we write letters to Congress in Bread for the World’s Offering of Letters campaign; as we launch our Confirmation program and our Journey of Faith process; as we remember once more the young German monk who had the gumption to confront the powers-that-be and so begin a reforming movement that shook the world, we do it all with hopeful expectation.  For the risen Christ is with us still.

Hubris and bravado, which seem in some quarters to be in plenteous supply, will get us nowhere.  Ideological skirmishes will accomplish nothing.  Denying the realities that we face as our climate changes is worth about as much as sticking our heads in the sand.  Maybe even less. Leaders who can’t or won’t see the bigger picture won’t get my time, my dime, or my vote.  People like us who have stood at the cross and seen the empty tomb know better and we expect better.  We, with “hopeful hands,” put our trust in the one who says I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE.  We make no claims for ourselves or for our project—but we stake everything on our belief that the Word who became flesh, the one we call Immanuel, is with us still, and still cares about this world and everyone and everything in it.

The words of Ray’s song Holy One, In You Alone have settled in a place deeply within me, a providential response to some harsh challenges these recent weeks have brought.  When we sing this song on October 2nd, perhaps you’ll agree.  I hope so.   But more than that, I hope you will join me in committing our congregation to a Green movement that calls us further on this journey of renewal “In You (God) Alone.”

Your companion on the Way,

Pastor Erik

*Figures are in Fahrenheit.

Beloved of God,

September has arrived—and what a full September it promises to be!  Our RE/vision process is in full swing with smaller focus groups meeting in earnest (look for a progress report before the month is out).  Our worship life shifts into a new gear beginning September 11thas we mark the beginning of the program year by observing the four week long Season of Creation (note the invitations that come with that season elsewhere in this edition).  Unique and important seminars on the stewardship of creation are on the calendar this month (details below) as is the 25th Anniversary AIDS Walk and the marking of PLU Sunday.  

John Gulhaugen, who served faithfully and admirably as Peace’s choir director for the past eleven years, tendered his resignation over the summer and Chris Kindem has been appointed as Interim Choir Director; a search team for a new Director of Music is being formed under the leadership of Council Vice President Dustin Smith.  We will miss John, and his partner James, as they move on to new ventures.  On October 16th we’ll take the opportunity to recognize and thank John for his contributions to our worship and community life.  Stay tuned for more on that as the month unfolds.

Combined with the start of the school year, the long litany of new activities, responsibilities, and commitments can leave me feeling, at times, breathless.  Where to find the balance?  That’s a question we all struggle with.  This month, perhaps especially, I mean to take the advice Mary Oliver offers in her poem The Trees: to think “quietly and deeply” of our firmly rooted forest kin who have found a way to remain amply rooted and flexible (rather than rigid), as they lift their branches toward their Creator, “holding on to the old, holy ways.”

God tend your roots and branches! 

Pastor Erik

Beloved of God,

What do the words graced, affirmed, humbled, overwhelmed, blessed, moved, challenged, and wowed all have in common?  Each expresses a portion of what I experienced during the observance of my 25th Ordination Anniversary on June 26th.

I am so deeply grateful for what we shared on that day: for the many individuals who labored behind the scenes to bring the event to fruition; for the family members, friends and colleagues who joined the people of Peace in worship; for the delectable menu; for participants—young and old— in the luncheon program; for the letters, cards and acknowledgments from people and places where I have served; for the variety of skills, talents, and late night vigils that all added up to a truly incredible day.  Every element was there—I just can’t imagine how it could have been any more meaningful!  “Thank you” suddenly seems too paltry a word, but here it is nonetheless—THANK YOU! – from the bottom of my heart.

A song written by Laura B for the occasion says it so well…

As summer beckons, many of us will find ourselves sojourning away from home for a spell.  For our part, we will be spending time in Montana and Oregon, pushing back routines that tend to set the agenda of our family life for so much of the year.  We’ll go to places and people who will give us new eyes for seeing ourselves and the world and new experiences to share.  Wherever the summer finds you, whatever the particular geography of your journey, the “One for All” goes beside, showing us God’s face, moving within, around, and through us to bring healing and renewal.  What joy!

On the Way,

Pastor Erik

* If you want to listen to this song or hear more of Laura Bermes’ incredible music, check out the website she shares with her husband Joe: http://seahavenstudios.wordpress.com/music/