Sunday at Grace and Vang

I returned to Grace Lutheran Church in Nerstrand this week. I had assisted there the first Sunday of my internship, and this time I preached. It was a treat to enjoy the "Now the Feast and Celebration" setting without having to lead it.

Grace, along with First, celebrates Holy Communion every week, whereas the rest of my congregations do so twice a month. It's nice when I end up at one of these two places on the Sundays (like today) when the other churches aren't including the sacrament.

After worship at Grace, I headed to Vang Lutheran Church in rural Dennison. It was the only church I hadn't worshiped at yet, so it was a delight to finally get there to preach and to meet more of the congregation.

Today was a special day at Vang, as we dedicated the new addition they just built. It provides them with a much-needed narthex (plus the space below it), as well as an elevator for accessibility. Just in time for the lutefisk dinner on Wednesday! Here are some pictures of Vang, just as beautiful as the rest of my churches!


Sanctuary




Chancel




Amazing window and organ




View from front...they have a cool wrap-around balcony with seating on all three sides (you can see one end of it in the picture above)

October 10 sermon

Text: Luke 17: 11-19
Preached October 10 at Grace Lutheran Church in Nerstrand, MN, and Vang Lutheran Church in rural Dennison, MN


So, Jesus is on the move again. He's now in the final stages of his journey to Jerusalem, but he never seems to get very far without someone asking for something. This time, it's not one person, but ten. And they all call out: "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!"

These ten men had leprosy. Not only were they afflicted with physical illness, but their disease would mean that they were also cast out of society, isolated from their loved ones, and left to fend for themselves. So it was quite obvious to Jesus what they wanted, specifically. They wanted physical healing. They wanted social and religious acceptance. They wanted the restoration of their place in their community.

Rather than touching them, like we often see him do, Jesus says, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” We haven’t heard that any healing has occurred yet, but they must have believed something would happen. The priests’ job was to examine them and declare them clean and acceptable to the community. There would be no reason to see the priests if there was no change in their condition.

But there was a change. In fact, Luke says, “as they went, they were made clean.” Completely cured on their way to see the priests! I’m sure they were ecstatic! And they probably couldn’t wait to get to the priests so they could officially end their suffering and isolation and rejoin their community.

But Luke says “one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back.” One of them interrupted his trip to the priests. As eager as he was, he postponed his acceptance back into society. And he turned back to Jesus.

Not only did he turn around, but he praised God loudly all the way back. As he approached, he got closer and closer, and he just kept coming, until finally, he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, thanking him all the while. This is an extravagant response! This one man clearly made the connection. He recognized Jesus’ healing as the work of God.

But there’s another piece to this story. This man—the one who turned back to praise God—this man has a secret. And Luke keeps it secret until we’ve seen the man’s extraordinary response. Then Luke springs it on us: the man is a Samaritan. He is not a Jew. He is not one of God’s chosen people. He is a foreigner, an outsider, looked down upon by those on the inside.

Who would have expected this outsider to be the one to figure it out? Who would have expected this outsider to recognize God’s activity? Who would have expected the outsider to turn back to Jesus? Who would have expected the outsider to offer the most extravagant thanks and praise?

I don’t think Luke’s readers would have expected it, and I know I wouldn’t have either.

Shouldn’t it be the Jews who turn back to Jesus? The Jews are the insiders in God’s story. They are the chosen ones. Shouldn’t it be the Jews who recognize that such a miracle could only be the work of God?

But this is not how it happens. The nine Jewish lepers do not return. For whatever reason, the Samaritan is the only one who returns to thank Jesus. The Samaritan—the outsider—recognized God at work in his healing and responded with gratitude and praise.

This outcome is not at all expected. But why is it so surprising? As Terry Fretheim says, “God does not run a ‘closed shop’ on who receives a word from God and who can engage it.” As we just saw, Jesus did heal and speak with the Samaritan in the first place. He didn’t refuse to engage with him because he was an outsider.

So perhaps we should expect this response. Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised when God works in unexpected ways, among unexpected people. Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised when those we see as outsiders recognize God’s work and respond to it with extravagant gratitude and praise. After all, this isn’t the first time we’ve seen it happen, and I’m sure it isn’t the last.

What about Naaman, the Syrian general we just heard about in our first reading today? He too, suffered from leprosy, which may have been surprising for someone described as a “mighty warrior.”

Naaman heard from his wife’s servant that there was a prophet in Israel who could cure his condition. So he went to Israel and saw Elisha. Like Jesus does in Luke’s account, Elisha kept his distance. In fact, Elisha didn’t even come out of his house. What an unexpected reception! Naaman fancied himself important enough that at least Elisha could have shown his face!

But instead, Elisha just sent a messenger to tell Naaman to go and wash seven times in the Jordan River. What an unexpected instruction! Naaman had expected something a bit more dramatic. He couldn’t see how a simple bath in the Jordan would cure his leprosy, especially when he thought there were better rivers back in Syria. So “he turned and went away in a rage.”

But Naaman’s servants convinced him to get over his anger and do as Elisha had instructed. So Naaman washed seven times in the Jordan, and “his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.”

Naaman returned to Elisha and said, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except Israel.” And Naaman declared that he would henceforth worship only the Lord. This Syrian general—this outsider—recognized God at work in his healing and responded with gratitude and praise.

And then there was a woman I’ll call Carol (which is not her real name). She was a patient on my unit of the hospital where I did CPE last summer. Carol was suffering withdrawal from nicotine, alcohol, and opiates. Her appearance during my first visit shocked and distressed me.

She was emaciated. Her hospital gown hung on her like a tent, and I could see the outlines of the bones in her shoulders and upper chest. She looked like a frail little bird, or maybe a twig that would snap in the slightest breeze.

Her eyes kept rolling back in her head. She was disoriented, and she was frustrated that she didn’t know what was going on with her treatment. She seemed to generally feel like a victim.

When she managed to speak coherently, she talked about how much she loved her grandchildren and how she didn’t want them to see her so “goofy,” as she put it. But I learned from the nursing staff that Carol had been through chemical dependency treatment over 30 times without success.

We didn’t have a chance to talk about God during that visit, but I expected her to express feelings of guilt or shame, or perhaps a sense of rejection. Imagining myself in her shoes, I thought I’d feel hopeless—like God had abandoned me into the grip of this awful addiction, and after trying so many times, there was just no way out. After all, she hadn’t experienced the healing that the Samaritan and Naaman experienced.

But when we got around to the big question I was so interested in—“How are you doing with God?”—I didn’t get the response I expected. She didn’t express feelings of guilt or shame. She didn’t express a sense of abandonment or despair.

She looked me straight in the eye and said, more clearly than anything she had said so far, “I know God is right here with me.” She told me she prays all the time, and she reads her Bible, and she knew that God would not desert her during her struggles. There was confidence and deep appreciation in her voice. Carol—who hadn’t yet been healed—saw God at work even in her suffering, and she responded with gratitude and praise.

The Samaritan threw himself at Jesus’ feet, thanking Jesus and praising God loudly. The Syrian general declared his faith in God and set out to worship him. And the addicted woman remained convinced of God’s presence and love.

A leprous Samaritan, a Syrian general, and a suffering addict. They seem like a motley crew, and they wouldn’t be the first place I would expect to find faith. But they all saw God at work in their lives, and they all responded with profound gratitude and worship.

And what about us? How do we respond to God’s work in our lives? We might think of ourselves as “insiders” in God’s story. We know of God’s work. We are in relationship with God through Jesus Christ. We are nourished and healed every time we hear God’s love and forgiveness proclaimed for us, and every time we receive Christ’s body and blood at this table. This is God’s work in our lives. And how do we respond?

I’ll tell you how I see you responding. I haven’t been around here very long, so I can’t speak to as many details as I would like, but I’ve seen a few things already.

[GRACE] We had an intern committee meeting here this week, and I couldn’t even count the number of people who commented on how warm and cozy and inviting this space is. That ministry of hospitality is a response to the good news you have received here. That warm and welcoming atmosphere is you inviting others to share in the gift of community God has created here. It is a reflection of your gratitude for God’s work in your lives.

[VANG] Today we’re celebrating the major improvements you just made to this building so that people with limited mobility can comfortably join you in this place. That ministry of hospitality is a response to the good news you have received here. That welcoming improvement is you inviting others to share in the gift of community God has created here. It is a reflection of your gratitude for God’s work in your lives.

It is true that we often miss the boat. We often dismiss apparent “outsiders.” We often fail to recognize God at work in our own lives, or to respond with praise. We are often the nine who do not return to thank Jesus.

But there’s yet another unexpected twist to this story, and that is…sometimes we do get it. Sometimes we do see God at work in our lives, and sometimes we do respond with extravagant gratitude and praise.

Sometimes we find ourselves at Jesus’ feet with the no-longer-leprous Samaritan, praising God loudly. Sometimes we find ourselves with Naaman at Elisha’s door, confessing our faith in the one true God. Sometimes we find ourselves with the suffering addict, witnessing to a God who never abandons us in our suffering.

Sometimes we are the one who turns back to bless the Lord, and here we are this morning. And, like he did for the leper who returned to him, Jesus will send us on our way to share the good news of God’s work in our lives, and in the lives of all people. Thanks be to God!

Festival of Tables

I was graciously invited to attend the First Lutheran Church Women's Festival of Tables this afternoon. There were two seatings for coffee and dessert, with a presentation between by Pastor Julie Rogness of Christ Lutheran Church in Lake Elmo, Minnesota, and Mama Tesha, head of St. Margaret's School in Tanzania. Mama Tesha works with Friends of Africa Education.








I attended the second seating, so after the presentation I headed downstairs with the other ladies to admire the beautifully set tables and enjoy some delicious goodies. It was a great time...here are a few of the fun and lovely tables.


Twins table (This is where I was seated.)




Table of dishes commemorating various church milestones




Fiesta table

Weekly beauty: John August Swanson

I really like John August Swanson's artwork. There are several pieces on campus at Luther Seminary, and WorkingPreacher.org uses it in their backgrounds. The sort-of rolling shapes remind me of Grant Wood's trees, and the bright colors add a lot of vitality to the story each piece tells.

Here's a selection of biblically-themed pieces (we will conveniently ignore the circus-themed ones because circuses creep me out a little--sorry).


"Psalm 85" (artist's notes)




"Story of the Prodigal Son" (artist's notes)




"Take Away the Stone" based on the raising of Lazarus (artist's notes)




"Washing of the Feet" (artist's notes)




A note of coincidence...I wrote and saved this post yesterday, and today I saw the following announcement on the Luther Seminary intranet. So if you're in the area and want to see more of John August Swanson's work, here's your chance.

A reception honoring John August Swanson will be held in the Westminster Gallery, Westminster Presbyterian Church, Minneapolis, on Friday, Oct. 8 from 5 pm to 8 pm, with an artist's talk from 6 pm to 7 pm. The exhibition features early and current work, and significantly, works-in-progress that demonstrate technique.

The exhibition opened Sunday, September 12 and runs through Sunday, November 21, 2010. Westminster member and Luther Seminary archivist, Paul Daniels, and his archival assistant, Kari Bostrom are co-curators with Westminster on this joint venture. Luther Seminary holds the archive of John's work and papers and is sharing these holdings with the Westminster Gallery.

Lands Lutheran Church

Not to worry, I did not have a ninth church added to my already-full roster!

Lands Lutheran Church just outside Zumbrota is where I go for text study each Tuesday. More than 15 different pastors attend regularly, though rarely all at the same time. They're a lively group, and they offer a hearty dose of social and collegial support along with insightful theological reflection on the week's lectionary texts. I look forward to it every week, even as a newbie.

And since you didn't get pictures of Gol and Hegre this week, here are some of Lands to make up for it. It's a little hard to tell here, but it's set up in a semi-circle, which gives the sizable space a cozier feel. Yet another beautiful building!

Voyage up north

Last weekend I make a trek "up north" to visit my friends Phil and Rachel in Underwood, Minnesota, in lake country. Check out my GPS screen as I entered their area...seems like more lakes than land! Otter Tail County contains over 1,000 of Minnesota's famous "10,000 lakes."





Rachel met me in the nearby town of Battle Lake. Each town in the area has a statue to commemorate its history or character. This one is in honor of a man who led the successful effort to hold off an attacking tribe while his own tribe fled to safety.





On the way back to their house, we met Phil at Zion Lutheran Church of Amor, where he's doing his internship. I got to meet his supervising pastor and check out the lovely, updated building. (And they're putting together another building project!)





Friday night we just grilled some brats for supper and relaxed while we waited for our friends, Ben and Stephanie, to arrive from St. Paul. (Incidentally, the tomato-basil brats were amazing. They were from Amor Pork. We stopped there the next day and had a great conversation with Bob.)

It's not hard to relax when this is your back yard view. Or when you have a host like Rachel, who bought the wine and chips I like because she knows me so well and she's thoughtful like that!





The next morning we went out for breakfast at Betty's Pantry in Ottertail, where they were aggressively celebrating autumn. Here's a tiny corner of the bathroom. The entire restaurant looked like this. It was glorious. Fantastic food, too.





On our way back, we had to stop at the Ottertail statue. I told you all the towns around had their own statues.





Finally, we went for a walk in the neighbors' woods before I had to head back to prep for my busy Sunday. As Rachel wrote, we really enjoyed the crisp air and sound of leaves crunching under our feet. She took this picture, because she is the master of makeshift tripod photography!





All in all, a wonderful weekend with wonderful friends! It was great to seize the opportunity while the weather was still so beautiful, but hopefully the snow (and busy schedules) won't keep us apart all winter!

The ridiculous and the adorable

Ridiculous (and disturbing): Halloween/Christmas fusion on October 4.




Adorable: Southern sun + radiant in-floor heat = happy kitty.

Sunday at Gol and Hegre

Well, I survived my first Sunday worship at two different churches that use two different services from two different hymnals. Their two pastors were both on vacation, so I was on my own. The folks at both Gol Lutheran Church and Hegre Lutheran Church are welcoming and easygoing, so not only did I survive, everything went really well and I had a great time.

The timeframe is quite tight (9:00 at Gol, 10:30 at Hegre, about a 10-minute drive in between). I finished shaking hands at Gol at 9:15, dashed off to Hegre, drove a few minutes, and realized my sermon was sitting in the pulpit at Gol! So I turned around to get it. Had I been much further, I would have done without and tried to wing it, but I really don't think that would have been pretty. I still got to Hegre at maybe 10:33, so worship probably started about 10:40. Fortunately they're old pros at this and they're patient.

At Hegre (prounounced Hay-gree) a fabulous 11-year-old assisting minister did a couple parts of the service, and I told her she's welcome to do more whenever she'd like. I was thrilled at her participation, and I think she enjoyed it too.

Unfortunately, with the crazy schedule, I only got a couple pictures of Gol and none of Hegre, so I guess you'll have to wait until next time around for those. I have some other pictures coming up this week, though, of course!

October 3 sermon

Text: Luke 16:19-31
Preached October 3 at Gol and Hegre Lutheran Churches in rural Kenyon, MN


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

“Why do bad things happen to good people?”
“Why am I in so much pain?”
“Where is God? I feel like he’s left me.”

Have you ever found yourself asking questions like this? I know I have. And these are not new questions.

“Oh Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen?”
Twenty-six hundred years ago, the prophet Habakkuk wrote these words from our first reading. This prophet knew suffering and wasn’t afraid to say so.

Habakkuk’s writing centers on how to make sense of suffering. It asks how God relates to us and our suffering. Habakkuk helps us see God’s promise that suffering and sorrow do not have the final word. This prophet has a lot to say about living by faith in a world that includes far too much evil and violence.

This is the only time Habakkuk pops up in our three-year lectionary cycle, so we can’t pass up this chance to take a look at this prophet’s message. We don’t know a lot about the prophet Habakkuk. He probably wrote this book around 600 BC.

At that time, the Israelites were divided into two kingdoms. The northern kingdom of Israel had already been conquered. The southern kingdom of Judah, which is where Habakkuk was writing, was about to be conquered as well. It wasn’t a good time for God’s people.

Habakkuk’s writing is divided into just three chapters, and I want to take a quick look at one important section from each chapter to see what it might tell us about faith and suffering.

We just heard the lament that opens the writing: “Oh Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen? Or cry to you ‘Violence!’ and you will not save? Why do you make me see wrongdoing and look at trouble? Destruction and violence are before me….justice never prevails.”

This is powerful lament. The prophet condemns God’s people for abandoning God’s ways. He names the brokenness of the world—life includes destruction, violence, and injustice. The righteous suffer. It’s not easy to accept, but it’s reality. And the prophet puts words to the shared experience of feeling abandoned by God.

Perhaps you’ve experienced times in your life when you felt like God was absent, or at least like he wasn’t paying attention. Many of us have been through individual or family situations like the death of a loved one, chronic pain, infertility or miscarriage, addiction, divorce, unemployment, abuse, mental illness.

We are all affected, either directly or indirectly, by community or global suffering as well. We deal with natural disasters like flooding and tornadoes. We deal with violence and injustice like bullying, poverty, and war.

When you face difficult situations like these, when you feel like God has abandoned you, what do you do? Do you feel comfortable confronting God as boldly as the prophet does? Some of us may have been discouraged from speaking to or about God in ways that might be considered negative, so we might be hesitant to complain so directly to God.

But Habakkuk’s cry to God here tells us that it’s okay to challenge God. It’s okay to ask hard questions, to lament, even to get angry. Habakkuk asks God, basically, “Why aren’t you showing up to fix this mess?!” God wants to hear from us, even when what we have to say isn’t pretty. Even when we are so angry or sad or scared that we can’t even find words to say what we’re feeling.

Even if all we can do is cry or scream, God wants us to turn to him with that pain. The apostle Paul tells us that this is when the Holy Spirit “helps us in our weakness” and prays on our behalf.

God wants to be in relationship with us. Relationships involve sharing of ourselves, and sometimes relationships involve conflict. Even when we have difficult things to say, God can handle it.

In fact, the first thing we should notice about God’s response to Habakkuk is the very fact that God does respond. God does not scold or punish Habakkuk for complaining. God does not ignore his children’s cries.

And how exactly does God respond to this prophet? We look at chapter 2: “Then the Lord answered me and said….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…. Look at the proud! Their spirit is not right within them, but the righteous live by their faith.”

“There is a vision.” God does have something to say to us. But, “if it seems to tarry, wait for it.” So God’s response may seem slow in coming. It may not conform to our preferred timeline. But, sooner or later, God will respond.

“The righteous live by their faith.” Does this response to Habakkuk sound like an easy answer to you? Does it neatly explain or resolve the suffering of the prophet and his community? I don’t think so. It seems God’s response won’t necessarily be the clear explanation we might want.

During times when you were suffering, have people tried to give you easy answers or neat explanations? “Everything happens for a reason.” Or, “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.” We have probably all heard such things, and we have probably all said such things. Sometimes they’re helpful and comforting.

But, many times, these answers just don’t satisfy us. They don’t recognize the intensity and contradiction of our emotions. They don’t leave room for our anger and questions. In times of intense sorrow and pain, there often are no easy answers. God’s response to Habakkuk is no exception.

But what does God’s response say about where God is in our suffering? God is right there with us, continuing in relationship with us. God is present to hear our cries and respond to our anger, confusion, and pain.

This verse speaks of salvation: “The righteous live by their faith.” Paul picks up on this verse in Romans 1 and Galatians 3 when he explains that it is Jesus Christ who makes us righteous. We are reconciled to God by our faith in Christ, not by our own work. So we become the righteous, and we live eternally by our faith.

This verse also speaks of a way of living: “The righteous live by their faith.” We live by faith when we trust that God is present, that God will respond to our cries, and that God’s response will be true. Faith is trusting that God is faithful to his people and his promises. And we see again that faith is about relationship, because trust can only occur within a relationship. So the righteous live each day by their faith.

Habakkuk’s message concludes with a summary of the situation the community is facing. This passage was not in our reading today. It’s at the end of chapter 3: “Though the fig tree does not blossom, and no fruit is on the vines; though the produce of the olive fails, and the fields yield no food; though the flock is cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights.”

As the prophet describes this situation, how good are things looking? “The fig tree does not blossom…no fruit is on the vines…the fields yield no food…there is no herd in the stalls.” So there are no crops and no livestock. No food. This is a description of despair. There is nothing left to hope for and things are bleak. What now?

How does the prophet respond? “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength.”

“Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.” That “yet” is a tiny but important word. Habakkuk doesn’t say “in the future I will rejoice,” or “when things get better I will rejoice.” Habakkuk rejoices in the Lord even now, in the midst of this dire situation.

What does this tell us about faith? Once again, faith is trust in God—trust that God will keep his promises and provide for his people’s needs. This trust can give us hope, and that hope can sustain us in the midst of despair.

Habakkuk shows us what it means that the righteous live by their faith. Rolf Jacobson writes that “the righteous have hearts that love God, rather than merely the blessings God gives.” This doesn’t mean the righteous never have doubts. Habakkuk showed us that by with his very direct questions for God.

But faith keeps trusting in spite of those doubts. Faith brings those doubts to God and waits for God’s response, as Habakkuk did. Faith enables us to live with these difficult questions, even when God’s response doesn’t really answer them. Faith enables us to endure suffering we don’t understand, and even to rejoice in the midst of it.

Now, we need to be clear that there is a difference between happiness and joy. We certainly cannot expect to be happy in the midst of suffering, but we can still have the deep sense of joy and peace that comes from faith.

Yes, faith enables us to lament and rejoice at the same time. Faith tells us that God is still with us even as we suffer, and God’s presence is our strength. Faith lets us trust in God’s promise that despair will not have the final word, and in that promise we find life and hope in the midst of hopelessness.

Let us pray.

God of hope, we are all too aware that life includes much suffering, and we give thanks for your constant presence in both joy and sorrow. Empower us to follow the prophets’ example by bringing our pain and our questions to you. When clear answers are not forthcoming, help us cling to your promise that suffering and death will not have the final word. All this we pray in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, who makes us righteous and who is our strength. Amen.

Weekly beauty: Taizé music

Since I've already been thinking about music this week, I'm sticking with the theme for your weekly glimpse of beauty. The Taizé Community of France is an ecumenical, international monastic community that has become well-known for its music. Here's part of their own description of their songs:

Using just a few words they express a basic reality of faith, quickly grasped by the mind. As the words are sung over many times, this reality gradually penetrates the whole being. Meditative singing thus becomes a way of listening to God.

I love the meditative nature of Taizé music. I have this album, plus a few other individual songs, and I turn to them often in my personal devotions. Here are YouTube clips of a couple of my favorites.


"Magnificat" canon

The Latin words, "Magnificat anima mea Dominum," are the first line of Mary's song (Luke 1), "My soul magnifies the Lord."




"Wait for the Lord" is from Psalm 27:14.