Thanksgiving

Despite the gross weather that preceded the holiday, I made it to my grandma's on Thanksgiving day. We had our family meal on Friday, and only two cousins were missing. I think it was the closest we've come to "perfect attendance" at a holiday for several years, and it was a joyous time. My sweet grandma was just glowing!

Couple of pictures...here's about half the family. There was a bit of a battle for the "center of attention" honors, between my brother and sister-in-law's dog, Bixley, and my cousin's 14-month-old boy, Caden. They were both pretty stinkin' cute!





Next year, we'll have two more babies to enjoy. My sister-in-law (on the floor in the picture above) is due in early February, and my cousin (on the sofa wearing black) is due in early April.

Here's one more shot of Bixley, along with my brother and sister-in-law, Erik and Sarah. The poor puppy had some kind of sore on his foot, so his doting people wrapped it up and topped it off with a baby sock purchased especially for this occasion.





Caden just started walking, and he had a bit of a collision with Bixley. It totally freaked them both out, so we'll see how Bixley takes to the new baby he'll soon be living with. It'll be an adventure, as always!

Internship reflections

This Kenyon Area Internship program, with eight congregations, is very unique. Most Luther interns (I can't speak for other seminaries) work with one congregation, maybe two. A few serve five-point parishes. Like any situation, this site has its pros and cons, and I'm finding my way through them now that I've got three months under my belt. (Holy buckets, that went fast!)

On the plus side, as I've said many times, I feel outrageously blessed to work with seven marvelous pastors who have widely varied backgrounds and a wealth of ministry experience to share. I love our monthly roundtable discussions and all the other learning I get to do with them!

Other aspects of the variety are also very beneficial. I get to experience different styles of worship and sacramental practices, enjoy different congregational personalities, and work with different hospitals, care centers, and funeral homes. Even preaching or leading worship from eight different pulpits and chancels is helpful...it forces me to think carefully about my every move!

I have an incredible degree of independence, and I love the flexibility. But I work from home, for several reasons, and it has proven difficult to transition from student hours to grown-up working hours, and to separate work and personal time so that each is as effective as possible. I'm gradually figuring out how this works for me, and I have a feeling it might be one of the most important things I learn this year.

The major drawback, of course, is that it's more difficult to get to know people when I'm not at any one church frequently. I especially miss out on getting to know the kids in my congregations. On Sunday mornings, I miss the Sunday school time because I'm either worshiping elsewhere or involved with the adult class. Instead, I form relationships with smaller groups with whom I interact more frequently, like my internship committee, the WELCA circles whose Bible studies I lead, and people I visit regularly.

And, as delightful as the variety is, it can also be challenging to get in a groove for worship when I can't rely on any consistent framework. There is enough similarity between all my congregations' worship patterns that I'm not in any danger of liturgical whiplash, but sometimes the details get a little tricky. For example, I've had to sing three different versions of the kyrie so far, and singing by myself is not my strong suit in the first place!

Anyway, a few thoughts at this point in the journey. It has been an adventure thus far and I look forward to seeing how the next several months unfold!

November 28 sermon

Text: Matthew 24:36-44
Preached at Holden and Dale Lutheran Churches, rural Kenyon, MN


Grace and peace to you from God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Tough words from Jesus today, yes?

“Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”

Three times in these three sentences, Jesus tells us to keep awake or be ready—clearly there is an urgency to his message.

This urgency may seem odd or unnecessary to us; after all, it’s been nearly 2,000 years since Jesus said these words. The New Testament writers didn’t seem to think it would be this long before Jesus’ return.

Unfortunately, I can’t tell you why the wait has been so much longer than the early Christians expected. I think this is one of those things no one can answer.

There’s another thing I can’t tell you. I can’t predict when Jesus will return. “Keeping awake,” as Jesus urges, doesn’t mean speculating on specific timing. Jesus says that even he doesn’t know when he will return to establish God’s kingdom in its fullness. Only the Father knows, he says. How could human beings ever presume to know something Christ himself doesn’t know?

There seems to be a lot we can’t answer here. But there are a few things we can talk about. I’d like to talk about what we might do while we wait. What does it mean to “keep awake” for the Son of Man’s return?

Although it’s not about speculation, keeping awake does not mean idle waiting, either. It does not mean passively scanning the horizon for Jesus’ appearance while ignoring whatever is happening around us.

Instead, keeping awake means being about the business of God.

Keeping awake means proclaiming the hope of God’s future. We just heard that hope described in our first reading, in the prophet Isaiah’s vision of peace.

And keeping awake means loving our neighbors, “lay[ing] aside the works of darkness and put[ting] on the armor of light,” as Paul tells us in our second reading.

Let’s talk first about proclaiming hope.

Pastor Judy was telling us at text study about a little boy who was terrified of Jesus’ return. He knew Jesus had said, “Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” So he was afraid to go to sleep.

He would say, “Jesus is coming…now. Jesus is coming…now.” He would say it over and over, because he figured Jesus wouldn’t show up at a moment when someone was expecting him. This is how he fell asleep each night…trying to prevent Jesus’ return.

Fear is a fairly common reaction to descriptions of Jesus’ return, and there are many fictional books and films that increase the fear. But God’s future is a cause for hope, not fear. In our first reading, Isaiah paints a beautiful picture of the future, when God’s kingdom will be established in its fullness.

“The mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of mountains. Many peoples shall come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord…that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.”

So God’s kingdom will someday extend over all the earth, and it will reach peoples and nations beyond Israel.

“For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem….O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!”

So all people will learn from God, and God’s people will join the other nations in walking in God’s ways.

God’s people haven’t always done this, of course. The ancient Israelites to whom Isaiah was speaking often wandered from God’s ways. Our ways of life often do not reflect God’s will for his people or his creation. But that will all change someday, when God himself will give instruction that no one can ignore.

“They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.”

There will be peace. When the fullness of God’s kingdom is established, God will bring an end to war, and all of creation will live in peace.

This is a hopeful vision of the future. This future is something to look forward to with joy. And this vision of hope is vital in a world where there is often cause for anxiety and sorrow.

Without this vision of hope, Christ’s return might indeed be a fearful thing. Without this vision of hope, we might forget that God is good, and that we are safe in God’s hands. Without this vision of hope, the world would be nothing more than a broken top spinning wildly out of control.

It’s easy to lose sight of this hope. This is why we must come regularly to hear God’s word and to gather at the table, for this is where God gives us this vision of hope. This is where God reminds us of our future, so that our future can shape our lives in the present.

A vision is more than just a dream. It is more than just a fantasy or a wish. A vision is a new way of seeing what is real and true. When we claim the truth of this vision, it breaks into our reality even now. This kingdom of peace is clearly a vision for the future, but it most certainly has an impact on the present as well.

This vision of hope guides our actions as we await Christ’s return. When we live in this hope, instead of in fear, we can be about God’s work of loving those around us.

And this is what we do while we wait for the Lord. This is another part of “keeping awake.” We let the vision of hope move us to love our neighbors.

Martin Luther is credited with saying that if he knew the world were ending tomorrow, he would plant a tree. This is love flowing from hope for the future. This is the God’s kingdom breaking into the present.

God’s kingdom breaks into our present as well. Paul tells us in our second reading that “salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers,” and we should, therefore, “put on the Lord Jesus Christ.”

In our baptism, we do exactly that. In the waters of baptism, we are claimed by God and clothed with Christ. We are “sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” And the Holy Spirit works in us throughout our lives: shaping us into conformity with Christ; helping us live into the image we bear.

So what does this mean exactly? What does it mean to love and serve our neighbors in the way of Jesus Christ?

Loving our neighbor means looking out for our neighbor’s best interest, just as we instinctually look out for our own best interest.

In the Large Catechism, Martin Luther explains the fifth commandment, “you shall not kill.” He says, “this commandment is violated not only when we do evil, but also when we have the opportunity to do good to our neighbors…but fail to do so. If you send a naked person away when you could clothe him, you have let him freeze to death. If you see anyone who is suffering from hunger and do not feed her, you have let her starve.”

These words are challenging. Loving our neighbor clearly involves much more than simply following a checklist (no killing, no stealing, no adultery). Loving our neighbor clearly means that we cannot remain distant and unconcerned. Loving our neighbor requires us to get involved, to pay attention, to “keep awake,” even when it isn’t easy.

And it often isn’t easy. As one theologian says, our neighbor might not be the person we would choose. Our neighbor might not be the one who looks like us, or who asks very little from us. Instead, “the neighbor is always the other person given to us, the one who crosses our path whether we like it or not…! The neighbor is always an unexpected appearance in our midst, in the midst of our lives. The neighbor, understood in this way, is Christ” (Dirk Lange, WorkingPreacher.org).

Jesus says in Matthew 25 that when we care for the “least of these” who are hungry, thirsty, naked, or sick, we care for Christ himself. On the contrary, when we neglect those in need, we neglect Christ himself.

Of course, this love of neighbor is not about earning favor with God. Jesus Christ has done that for us. Instead, this love of neighbor is about “keeping awake” and “putting on Christ” as we joyfully anticipate the future. It is about trusting that God keeps his promises, and that Isaiah’s vision of peace is true for us. It is about knowing that Christ will return to establish God’s kingdom in its fullness.

Loving our neighbor is possible for us because God’s kingdom is already breaking into our reality. The Holy Spirit enables us to love our neighbor, and the presence of that Spirit is a sign of God’s kingdom, already a reality among us but not yet fully complete.

This is precisely the tension in which we live. We are a people of already and not yet. Christ has come already, but his kingdom is not yet fully realized. So we wait in the tension. We prepare for the “not yet”—the final coming of God’s kingdom—in hopeful anticipation.

We stay alert to the Son of Man’s return and we do not fear, like the poor little boy who couldn’t go to sleep. We do not fear because we belong to the Son of Man for whom we wait, and we know he cares for us.

Meanwhile, we cling to the vision of God’s peaceful kingdom, and we proclaim this hope we have received. We give thanks for the Holy Spirit, who is already equipping us to do God’s work while we wait. We put on Christ Jesus, who claimed us in our baptism, and we look for Christ already present among us: in the word, in the meal, in the neighbor who needs our love.

Thanks be to God! Amen.

Weekly beauty: Christmas cactus

It's not the most spectacular Christmas cactus in the world (I don't really do the whole forced-blooming regimen). But I think it's lovely, and it was a gift from my friend, Rachel Roushey, two years ago. Here's a picture from its recent bloom, and a couple from last year around this time (before I got the prettier pot).












P.S. You may have seen a blank post by this title appear in your reader on Tuesday. This time I can't blame Sami; it was just my own clumsiness in hitting return instead of tab from the title field. C'est la vie.

Worship and winter and Thanksgiving

I was all set to participate in a Thanksgiving Eve community worship service at Emmanuel Lutheran Church at Aspelund last night, but services all over this area were canceled due to yet another round of craptastic weather.

So now we've canceled a youth trip and a community worship service due to weather, and it's not even December yet! And we've had one or two other nasty days in between.

Farmer's Almanac 2011 says "cold and very snowy" for this winter. This does not bode well, and I'm anxious about having to drive more than ever before. If this every-other-day weather drama keeps up all winter, it's going to be a very long few months!

But I am thrilled to have a garage this year. I'm still optimistic about traveling today (or at least tomorrow), and deeply grateful to have a wonderful family I want to see. And I'm thankful to have a warm, safe home in which to hibernate if I can't make it to my grandma's for Thanksgiving.

I hope you have a chance to gather with loved ones this week, and safe travels if you're on the road or in the air. Happy Thanksgiving!

Confirmation

I recently taught two weeks of ninth-grade confirmation classes at First Lutheran, after four weeks with the eighth-graders earlier this fall. The two classes were like opposite ends of an energy spectrum: practically-hyperactive eighth-graders (also a larger class) vs. very quiet, low-key ninth-graders.

Confirmation is a challenge for me, though I enjoy it quite a bit. It can be difficult to harness the overabundance of energy in a class like these eighth-graders, and it was just as difficult to engage the ninth-graders, who had lost some of their enthusiasm.

I posted here about some curriculum options, but most pastors I know seem to design their own learning plans, pulling materials from many different resources. I found activities that involve movement to be helpful in bringing variety to the class. They also allow exuberant students to burn some excess energy, or lethargic students to wake up a little.

But it's not easy to come up with ideas for students this age. When I search through print or online resources I know of, I come up with a lot of activities for younger kids or for adults, without enough options in between.

As one of my pastors said, though, one of the biggest goals of confirmation is to communicate to the young people that the congregation cares for them. We want them to know and believe that they really matter to the community of faith of which they're a part.

That takes some of the focus off the curriculum and activities and shifts it to building relationships. We certainly want to lay a foundation of Christian teaching as well, but the students will be much more likely to build on that foundation throughout their lives if it's rooted in love.

If anyone has confirmation-related insight or resources to share, I'm all ears!

Sunday at Vang and Hegre

This morning I led worship at Vang, with Pastor Gary Wees as guest preacher in the absence of Pastor Terje Hausken. It was the first time I had been at Vang for a service that included communion, so it was great that we had competent, hospitable lay leaders to guide us.

The highlight for me was the children's sermon. I used the Spark Story Bible, which is always a hit with younger kids. But the kids themselves are the best part, of course. I heard all about their birthdays. When I said we were talking about kings, I was reminded that Ariel's dad was a king. And after we read about Jesus on the cross, a child who was probably 4 years old told me that Jesus died to forgive our sins, and he came back on Easter. "I know the whole story!" she said. Too flippin' cute!

I've been lamenting lately about my lack of interaction with children. After teaching the three- and four-year-old Sunday school class last year at Resurrection, I really miss that shot of energy every week. It was refreshing for my spirit to spend even those few minutes with the kids yesterday. I'm on the lookout for other opportunities. They aren't easy to come by with my worship and adult education commitments on Sunday mornings, but I'll figure something out.

From Vang I headed to Hegre, thanking God that the ice we were supposed to get stayed north and west of us (sorry for those who got it!). It was lovely to share worship with Pastor Dick Hegal, who was on vacation the last time I was at Hegre. And I showed up on the right day...there was a potluck after worship, followed by Christmas decorating. I didn't get to stay to decorate, but the meal was amazing, as always!

And I finally got pictures! I adore the painted panel behind the altar, so here are increasingly close-up shots of the Hegre chancel, plus a view of the nave from the front.

Purple funeral

This week I assisted with my first funeral. It was for a beloved saint of Grace Lutheran Church. I mentioned before that we started planning it during the weekend when we should have been at the Church Youth Fest at Luther College. The visitation then took place in Faribault on Monday and the funeral at Grace on Tuesday.

I didn't have much opportunity to get to know Arlene well during the two and a half months I've been here. (This, of course, is the major drawback of dividing my time among eight churches.) But I did learn that her favorite color was purple, so I did my part in paying tribute:





I couldn't have guessed that I would ever wear purple tights to a funeral (nevermind the fairly large purple earrings), but it seemed like the right thing to do. Several family members and friends noticed and appreciated it, and many of them were sporting purple as well.*

It was one of the many ways we celebrated Arlene's beautiful and creative life. She was very artistic, mastering everything from quilting to woodworking to rosemaling. Pastor Judy wore a stole Arlene had made, and Arlene's husband gave me a bracelet she made:





It was a lovely service, full of both personal remembrances and the gospel of Christ. There is no better time than a funeral to proclaim the sure and certain hope that death will not have the final word, that Jesus Christ is the resurrection and the life, and that in Christ we have peace.

Also, the ladies of Grace really know how to host a luncheon! Complete with lefse and Norwegian flag napkins. Perfect.



* Side note: I have now received "best-dressed intern" or similar accolades at three of my churches. Some might find such compliments trivial or demeaning, but I have fun with my clothes, so I appreciate them. At another of my churches, an elderly woman expressed appreciation that I always wear skirts. I'm a little more ambivalent about that one, though I can take it in the spirit in which it was intended. There's so much to say about gender, ministry, and clothing. Others are already writing about it better than I could, but I still might give it a shot one of these days.

Weekly beauty: Stained glass

From Lands Lutheran Church, an unusual subject--a woman (Mary Magdalene, maybe?) at the cross:




From Dale Lutheran Church, a more contemporary rendering of the nativity:




From Vang Lutheran Church, an interesting configuration around the balcony.




From First Lutheran Church, another subject that struck me as unusual, but which I've seen depicted in a few different churches in the area--Peter's failed attempt to walk on water.

"Reclaiming YHWH"

A few weeks ago one of my professors, Mary Hess, posted a link to this piece on her blog, Tensegrities. "Reclaiming YHWH" talks about the ancient Jewish concept of YHWH (God) in comparison to the ancient Greek concept of Zeus.

The author, Ellie Roscher, argues that the early church's understanding of God was deeply influenced by the Greek view of Zeus, and therefore many of YHWH's characteristics were obscured or lost to Christians.

Here's an excerpt:

YHWH is humble, self-emptying, abundant love. Zeus is a self-contained, muscular, sexual, manipulative, controlling male. YHWH is relation with, Zeus is domination over. Zeus deals with creation like an appendage, YHWH is deeply in, with and through all of Creation. Our Church today is worshipping a very Greek influenced God. Zeus is winning....If we don’t start making the vulnerable, relational YHWH God accessible, we are going to keep losing young people.

Very provocative thoughts that I think have some merit. I encourage you to read the rest of the post for more on how and why this distinction impacts young people.

Unexpected worship

One of my pastors called me last Wednesday and told me he'd be presiding at a funeral the next morning. Consequently, he wondered if I could fill in for him at a "short devotional service" at the Twin Rivers Senior Campus (independent and assisted living apartments) in Cannon Falls. (When he started talking about scripture, hymns, a "meditation," and communion, I caught on to his verbal trickery and realized we were really talking about a full worship service.)

With confirmation Wednesday evening, I didn't have much time to prepare a service and sermon for Thursday morning, but I had some good resources in my toolbox, so I got it pulled together. Thankfully, my clinical pastoral education experience had included worship at Ebenezer Ridges Care Center, so at least I had some idea what to expect. I brought CDs for the hymns in case they didn't have an accompanist (they didn't), and I photocopied the hymns and parts of the service that included congregational responses in case they didn't have hymnals (they didn't).

About 15-20 people attended and it was lovely to share worship with such faithful saints. Here's the chapel space at Twin Rivers.





After worship, I opened the Veterans Day flag-raising observance with a prayer. Thankfully, I had been warned about that so I was prepared. Veterans Day is meaningful for me in an abstract way, but it was touching to share this holiday with people for whom it has much more personal meaning.





Twin Rivers is a very nice facility and the folks I talked to were quite happy there. I even got to chat with the gentleman I visited in the hospital my first weekend of internship, and I hope to visit again soon!

Birthday festivities

Last Monday was my friend Clint's birthday. I love when Clint has a birthday. During summer Greek two years ago, when I hardly knew him yet, Clint learned I was 28 and called me ancient, and he has yet to live it down. So every time he has a birthday, I can tell him he's inching closer to being ancient himself. Next year he will turn 28 and will officially cross over into ancient territory.

I was in the Cities already for the fall theological conference, as was my friend Mat, and we happened to have a free evening Monday. So we headed over to Clint's place, where we were joined by some other friends for dinner and games.





We played Mexican Train Dominoes, which I had never played before. It was fun. The best part was Clint and Mat's propensity for angles in their train. Check out the utter mess they made compared to the rest of our neat, normal right angles. Craziness.





Never a dull moment.

Fall theological conference

The Southeast Minnesota Synod recently held its annual fall theological conference for pastors and other church leaders.

We gathered in Bloomington and attended four presentations on theological topics ranging from how we relate to scripture to how ministry is changing from decades past. We worshiped each day, with evening prayer on Sunday, remembrance of saints on Monday, and Holy Communion on Tuesday. Here is Bishop Harold Usgaard leading worship on Tuesday morning.





We had time just to socialize, which is always a delight. It was nice to see familiar faces from text study and conference meetings, and to meet new people from around the synod. And it's always great to spend time with fellow interns. We (the interns, that is) even enjoyed breakfast with the bishop one morning.

As a result of that breakfast with the bishop, we interns all got to opening worship just before it started that day, so there wasn't much seating left. We ended up clustered in the front corner. It was like a kiddie table at Thanksgiving but at least we were in good company. Here's my friend and fellow intern, Mat, and the rest of the room from our vantage point.





It was a great chance to gather, and the worship was especially refreshing. As the bishop said at our breakfast, it can be difficult to really worship when you're the one up front having to pay attention to what comes next and where you need to be. So worship opportunities like this are a nice change of pace.

First snow and canceled plans

It snowed. Friday night, all day today (Saturday). It's supposed to keep it up tomorrow too. Wet, heavy, gross snow. More like slush once it's on the ground. And ridiculously slippery.

My supervisor, Judy, and I were planning to take five high school students to Luther College in Decorah, Iowa, for the Church Youth Fest this weekend. We gathered at Grace in Nerstrand this morning. I almost slid into the ditch on the way there, going only 30 mph. It took Judy more than twice as long as usual to make her commute. It was ugly.

Here's my driveway earlier this evening, after quite a bit of melting. Still snowing, as you can see.








So Judy finally arrived about a half-hour after our appointed gathering time, and we probably spent another 20 minutes trying to decide whether or not to go. Painful deliberations! The roads were awful, but we knew they'd probably get better south of Rochester, but it's an hour to Rochester in good weather. We would have missed the first few hours of the retreat.

The kids were so excited that we really hated to let them down, but we finally decided it just wasn't worth taking the chance with other people's children. We're hoping to plan something else fun to try to make it up to them. Those cancellation decisions are agonizing!

As it turned out, we still had to do a little bit of driving that day, as we went to Faribault to help a family begin planning a funeral, which will take place this week. It was a slippery and unpleasant trip, and I was quite relieved Judy was driving!

We had to stop on the way to clear the car a little, so we pulled into St. John's United Church of Christ outside Nerstrand.





The trip back from Faribault wasn't quite as treacherous, so we kept wondering whether we had done the right thing in canceling. Who knows? Agonizing decisions, I tell ya.

Meanwhile, I now find myself unexpectedly without Sunday responsibilities! I imagine I'll end up at Grace for worship, simply because Grace and Vang are closest to me, and I'll be at Vang next weekend. I'll hardly know how to function on such a carefree Sunday morning, but I think it'll come back to me.

Weekly beauty: Prayer space

Here's my little space for prayer, tucked in a corner of my bedroom. I adore it.








You can see better photos of my icons here. The space also includes candles (obviously), a Bible, a hymnal, several other devotional books, and prayer beads. The binder contains several printed copies of Macha Chmakoff's paintings, which I posted about here.

Setting apart a space like this makes it much easier for me to put aside other concerns, shut out distractions, and engage more fully in prayer. We are, after all, embodied people, so surroundings and senses make a difference in our prayer and worship.

I absolutely believe and affirm that we can pray anytime and anywhere, and I often do just that. But I also like to carve out intentional time to pray in a more focused way than I can usually manage with my "anytime/anywhere" prayers, and this space helps me do that.

Taking charge

The seven pastors I work with have well over 200 years of combined ministry experience, and once a month we gather to discuss a topic of my choosing. They pass along their extensive wisdom--experiences, reflection, tips and tricks. It's magnificent.

Last week we got together and discussed weddings. We talked a lot about pre-marital preparation and other issues, but also about managing the rehearsal and ceremony. Specifically, it can sometimes (not always, by any means!) be challenging to work with photographers, outside wedding coordinators, and over-zealous family members.

Their comments reminded me of this blog post from Beauty Tips for Ministers, one of my favorite blogs. The blog's author is a Unitarian Universalist minister in Massachusetts, and she writes thoughtfully and humorously about many different aspects of ministry as a woman. She recently wrote about the importance of establishing oneself as the authority within the context of a wedding, and not allowing the spectacle to overshadow the sacred. Here's an excerpt:

My first rule is, ask nicely. The moment that your reasonable and polite request gets ANY pushback, become all business and be assertive. If you STILL get pushback, morph immediately into Rev. Do-Not-Mess-With-Me. Perfect your steely death gaze....I’m sorry, darlings, YOU must be the Alpha at any wedding or funeral. Not the sound guy, not the wedding planner, not the florist or the caterer. If bringing on an In Charge persona isn’t your thing, fake one until it comes naturally. We’re not out to win Miss Popularity or to be warm and sweet and get walked all over.

It was a good reminder that pastoral office carries with it an authority that I have to claim if I'm to serve effectively. Much of the time, it's helpful and appropriate for a pastor to tread lightly and walk alongside those she's serving. Other times, it's necessary to take a more assertive stance in defense of the gospel and its proclamation in a particular context.

It's something I've been living and growing with throughout my seminary study. So perhaps my progress needs to be tested. Is anyone willing to cross me so I can practice being "Rev. Do-Not-Mess-With-Me"?

Fall Bazaar

Grace Lutheran Church held their annual Fall Bazaar last Saturday. They put me to work clearing tables, but there were enough helpers that I got to do more chatting than working. It was great.

It was another very successful event, as far as I could tell. Fabulous chili and all sorts of other good stuff for lunch, plus a pie selection that impressed me with its inclusion of chocolate options. Check out how cute the tables were:




Amazing array of baked goods for sale (in addition to the pie):




Along with the lunch and bake sale, the Sunday school rooms were set up like a giant garage sale.




I found a fun little red throw pillow for $1...




And several brooches for $.50 each. I've been wanting to experiment with brooches, so here was a perfect opportunity!




All in all, a great time at the Fall Bazaar. And I still have a few more annual festivals and dinners to look forward to!

Reconnecting

One of the most joyous discoveries I've made since starting internship is that I some members of my extended family, with whom I had lost touch, attend one of my churches. I knew they lived in the area, but I didn't know they were Lutheran (that branch of my family is historically Methodist), so it was a delight to learn that they're involved at Holden.

After a few attempts that didn't work out for one reason or another, I finally made it to their home for dinner last week and it was wonderful for many reasons. It was a pleasure to find some grounding and connection to my past and my broader family, and it was also terrific to spend some time with the kids.

There are two boys in this family (ages 12 and 7) and they were extraordinarily hospitable. They enthusiastically welcomed me, showed me around the house, and shared their art projects, hobbies, and pets with me.

I taught the pre-school Sunday school class at my teaching congregation last year, and I have really (really!) missed that interaction with kids. Their exuberance is so life-giving that it was like a shot of energy for me to spend time with these boys. Check out all the fun we had!


The 12-year-old is both an artist and a horticulturalist. He has a talent for drawing, mainly with colored pencils, and he is an expert about plants. I couldn't believe how many different plants he was tending just in his home! Here's a project that combines both interests.




The 7-year-old had fun playing with the pets--three cats and a dog. This particular cat, Katie, might be the most easygoing cat I've seen. Here she is stuffed into his stocking hat and perfectly content.




And here are both boys (plus Katie again) with the marble machine...a highly entertaining contraption much like the game Mouse Trap.

Sunday at Gol

I celebrated All Saints Sunday at Gol Lutheran Church. Worship was a lovely experience, as always, and it was great to share it with Pastor Marv Kormann, who was on vacation the last time I was at Gol. I didn't have to rush off to another service this time, so I got to sit and chat with the folks of Gol while we worked on writing thank you notes to international missionaries.


Since I didn't have pictures for you last time, here is the interior of this beautiful building.




Closer view of the table.




The panel behind the altar (actually called a reredos, which I learned in confirmation many moons ago). The inscription appears to be a Bible verse, in what I can only assume is Norwegian, but I forgot to ask someone what it says. Guess I have a reason to go back!




View from the pulpit. Check out the stunning light fixtures.

November 7 sermon

Text: Ephesians 1:11-23
Preached November 7, 2010 at Gol Lutheran Church in rural Kenyon, MN


Grace and peace to you from God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

What do you think of when people talk about “saints”? Chances are, you think of people like Saint Paul, who proclaimed God’s promises to us so beautifully in the words from Ephesians that we just heard. Or Mother Teresa, who tirelessly served some of the poorest people in the world—people no one else wanted to touch.

Or maybe you think of someone who is still living. I sometimes refer to my grandmother as a saint. She is one of the kindest, most caring people I have ever met and she never seems to have a bad word to say about anyone.

In his book Crazy Talk, Rolf Jacobson (and his team of writers) say this: “So you think you already know what a saint is? Let’s guess: someone who is…so admirable that if you died you’d want them to take care of your puppy…but with whom you wouldn’t want to go to an R-rated movie. And you certainly wouldn’t want to be one! As a t-shirt we saw on a little kid said, ‘I tried being good, but I got bored.’”

We tend to think of “real saints” as not at all like us. We want to see them as somehow super-spiritual, extra-holy, and elevated above the rest of us ordinary human beings with all of our flaws.

But when New Testament writers like Paul use the word “saints,” they aren’t just referring to people who live exemplary lives. In the New Testament, the word “saints” always refers to all Christians. This letter to the Ephesians, for example, is addressed “to the saints in Ephesus.” And Paul is not writing only to a select few, but to the entire community.

That’s why this festival called “All Saints” commemorates more than just people like Mother Theresa, Saint Paul, and the people we know who are particularly kind. This festival commemorates all those who have lived and died in Christ.

After all, if we understand saints only as those who have lived exemplary lives, how does God fit into the picture? If we define saints solely by their own good works, we leave no room for God’s grace.

Saints are not saints because of their own good works. In fact, being a saint is dependent solely on God’s work. Saints are saints because of what God has done for them in Christ. Saints are simply sinners claimed by Christ. All Christians are saints. We are saints.

In our baptism, we are forgiven and united with Christ. We are, as Paul says in our second reading, “marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit.” He goes on to say that this is “the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people.” A pledge, in this sense, is like a down payment. The presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives is a down payment on the promises of God which are our future.

Now, this designation as “saints” shouldn’t go to our heads! Let me say again that our sainthood is all about what Christ has done for us, not about anything we do ourselves. I know, and you know, that we all continue to sin. All of us.

In fact, Nadia Bolz-Weber points out that “the journals of Mother Teresa…portrayed her as a doubting and cranky person, maybe a little like us.” And Saint Paul persecuted the church before he became Christian. Even after his conversion, he understood his own sinfulness better than anyone. He wrote in Romans, “For I know that nothing good dwells within me.…For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.”

One of the mysterious realities of life in Christ is that we are, at the same time, fully saints and fully sinners. We are not half-saint and half-sinner. We are fully sinful, and yet, God makes us fully saints by forgiving our sin and claiming us as his own through Christ.¬¬¬

So what does it mean to be saints? It means that we live, as Paul says, in “the hope to which [God] has called us.”

The first reading from Daniel depicts a vision that initially leaves us with very little hope. “I, Daniel, saw in my vision by night the four winds of heaven stirring up the great sea, and four great beasts came up out of the sea, different from one another.” The verses omitted in our lectionary tell us these beasts were devouring whatever was in their path.

When Daniel asks about this vision, he is told that “four kings shall arise out of the earth.” So, for Daniel, these beasts represent four hostile and powerful kingdoms. What do they represent for us? What are the beasts we face?

I have friends battling the beast of cancer. I know you do too. I have friends facing many other health problems, beasts of all varieties. I know you do too. I have friends fighting beasts like depression, anxiety, isolation, addiction, and despair. I know you do too. All over the world, God’s people are being crushed by the beasts of poverty, hunger, violence, and injustice.

This is the reality of our broken world. Pain, despair, death.

But these beasts, though they are very real, do not have the final word. Daniel’s vision continues: “the holy ones of the Most High shall receive the kingdom and possess the kingdom forever—forever and ever.”

This is the truth that has been passed down to us through the church. Paul calls it “the Word of truth, the gospel of our salvation,” and we have heard it from the prophets and apostles and faithful witnesses in every age. We know the end of the story. We who live in Christ live in “the hope to which [God] has called us.”

And what is this hope?

This hope is described in our gospel reading: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you…on account of the Son of Man…for surely your reward is great in heaven.”

The hope to which God calls us is a kingdom where the ways of the world are turned upside-down, where justice prevails, and where everything is set right. This is a kingdom breaking into our world even now, when we know God is present in the brokenness, and the hopeless are blessed. And this is a kingdom which, someday, “the holy ones of the Most High shall…possess…forever and ever.”

This hope is also described in our second reading: “God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead….And he has put all things under his feet….” What God has put under Christ’s feet are the beasts we face in our brokenness—suffering, despair, and death.

Death will not have the final word, for it has been put under Christ’s feet. Listen to the words of John from Revelation: “See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them…he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more….‘See, I am making all things new.’”

Death and pain will be no more. In Christ, these beasts are defeated. This is God’s great promise. This is the hope to which God has called us. This is the rest of the story which is our future. All things will be made new.

So how do we live as saints? How do we live as those who have been claimed by Christ, and who know the final outcome of our future?

We come to worship to hear these promises over and over again, lest we forget them. It’s easy to do, you know, since they are almost unbelievable.

We gather at the Lord’s table, where we both receive and enact this future God has promised us.

We go in peace to love and serve those around us, working toward glimpses of God’s kingdom, where the hungry are filled and those who weep can laugh instead.

And we claim and proclaim God’s great promise that death, as final as it seems now, will not have the last word, and that, at the end of the story, all things will be made new.

This is the hope to which we are called. And in Christ, this hope is certain. Thanks be to God! Amen.

Trashing the dress (on purpose)

My friend Kristina got married this summer. Last weekend, at her request, we trashed her wedding dress and had a blast doing it. (This is a big new trend for brides. Google "trash the dress" and you'll find some crazy pictures.)

I know some of you will be bothered by the unnecessary destruction of such an expensive garment. I'm on the fence about it myself. On one hand, perhaps it would have been better stewardship to donate it and bring some joy to another bride.

On the other hand, this afternoon together brought a lot of joy to five women who couldn't have made memories like these just sitting around chatting like usual. That's no small matter, either, considering that, in less than two years, we'll all be scattered across the country and chances to get together will be few and far-between.

(So, actually, one could argue that this approach was more life-giving than adding this dress to the thousands of other dresses taking up closet space across this great land, rarely even being looked at, while awaiting that minuscule chance that someone else in the family might actually want to wear it someday. Hmm.)

Anyway, there are lots of ways to look at it but, ultimately, it was her dress and her decision. While I couldn't quite bring myself to do any direct damage, I did have tons of fun participating in less actively-destructive ways.

Hope you enjoy the pictures, even if they make you cringe! All except the last one were taken in downtown St. Paul.


Cone hat. Notice the "Do Not Enter" sign, which we proceeded to ignore. We're such rebels.




Sitting in a big ol' digging machine. [What the heck are those things called? Is there a more technical name than digger trucks? Whatever, you get the idea.]




Rolling down a hill in the grass (hoping everyone has picked up after their dogs).




Highlight of the day...Naomi convinced the kind gentlemen hanging Christmas lights to give Kristina a ride in the bucket. It was awesome.




Here we all are in the same park. Photo by the fabulous Rachel Roushey. There's another photo on her blog, and more to come (she took hundreds).




And the grand finale: Cupcakes and hot chocolate at Cupcake on University, our favorite coffee shop. Those of you who know me well undoubtedly realize that, even if I hadn't already been squeamish about the destruction, I would never have sacrificed my perfectly delicious minty-chocolate frosting for the cause. But Naomi and Stephanie were much better sports about it, and Kristina herself also contributed.

Weekly beauty: "For All the Saints"

I told you All Saints Day is one of my favorite church festivals...here we go again with one of my favorite hymns. It's pretty epic, with seven verses in our latest hymnal. Here's a selection:

Thou wast their rock, their fortress, and their might;
thou, Lord, their captain in the well-fought fight;
thou, in the darkness drear, their one true light.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

Oh, blest communion, fellowship divine,
we feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
yet all are one in thee, for all are thine.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
steals on the ear the distant triumph song;
and hearts are brave again and arms are strong.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast,
through gates of pearl, streams in the countless host,
singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost:
Alleluia! Alleluia!

And a slightly different version in video.

Hanging at Skye's

Skye Advent was born September 27, 2010, to my friends Mathew and Lane. I've been lucky enough to visit her a couple times recently, once with other friends. Here she is...the beautiful little girl (with me in the first pic and her mama in the second).








Two of our other friends, Michael and Naomi, welcomed their little Willem Edward in July. (Michael actually missed his chance to be a groomsman in the wedding of our friends Chase and Kristina because Willem was born about the time the ceremony ended. That was one joyous day for all of us!)

Here are the two babies together. Naomi is holding Willem and I'm holding Skye (photo credit to Michael, I believe). We couldn't get over how big Will looked next to Skye, when otherwise he seems so little!





It is such a delight to live close enough to both Rochester (where Mat and Lane are on internship) and St. Paul (where several other friends are doing internship or classes). I love the wonderful people surrounding me on internship, but the additional support and goofiness of good friends like these is invaluable as well!

Voting and more

Random experiences from Election Day...

I got to vote in the cutest little township hall ever. My last polling place was the Lauderdale City Hall. It was just fine as polling places go, but the Warsaw Township Hall (which is nestled amongst some cornfields) was much more charming.








There's a big grain elevator in Dennison. Yesterday it was raining flakes of some kind of agricultural commodity. (Looked to me like little corncob bits but I'm pretty clueless about such things. Do they actually grind up corncobs?) Whatever it was, it looked pretty cool swirling around the curbs.








I got to ride in my first Serious Farm Pickup, complete with broken mirror, brake light that never went off, and an apparent inability to exceed 40 mph. My supervisor (here she is driving) borrowed it to transport some stuff, and I got roped in because we did a pastoral care visit together in conjunction with the transporting. Good thing I didn't chop off my foot with that knife that I didn't see until now!








Just another day in the life, eh?