St. Luke Lutheran Church

The story is told of Timmy, a precocious five-year-old who told his father that he wanted a baby brother. He offered to help his father however he could. His father paused for a moment, thinking about his son’s request. He, then, said, “If you pray every day for two months, I’m sure that God will give you a baby brother.”

Timmy responded eagerly to his father’s challenge. That very night before going to bed, he prayed fervently for a baby brother. For a couple weeks, Timmy prayed with alacrity: sometimes he prayed three times a day. About the third week, however, Timmy had grown skeptical. He was convinced that his prayers were not working. He did some research around the neighborhood and found out that it never occurred in the history of the world that a boy prayed for a baby brother and then got it. So, Timmy quit praying.

About a month later, Timmy’s mother went to the hospital. When she returned home, Timmy’s parents called him into their bedroom. He walked cautiously into the bedroom not expecting to see anything. Then he saw a little bundle lying next to his mother. His father pulled back the blanket and there was not one baby brother, but two! His mother had twins!

Timmy’s father looked down at him and said, “Now aren’t you glad you prayed? Look what God gave you—two baby brothers!”

Timmy hesitated a little. He, then, looked up at his father and said, “Yes, but aren’t you glad I quit when I did.”

Indeed, prayer changes things. Chiefly, prayer changes us. How does prayer change us?

Prayer puts you in rhythm with Jesus. In John 17, we see Jesus in his role as the ascended Lord seated at the right hand of the Father. There, he has been granted the power to fulfill what he promises: Jesus promises to be present where two or three are gathered in his name; Jesus promises to be present in the Eucharist; Jesus promises to be your Good Shepherd at death.

At the right hand of the Father, moreover, Jesus is performing his high priestly role of praying. Priests pray. By virtue of Baptism, we have been ordained as priests, given such unction through the Holy Spirit. As priests, we pray together with our High Priest.

When we pray, we are in rhythm with Jesus. First, you experience rhythm with Christ when you let go and let God. You solve something without solving it by getting self out of the way. In prayer, you surrender your devices, your strategies to figure things out and entrust yourself and your petitions to Christ.

Second, you experience rhythm with Christ when you sit in silence. Christ is seated in the heavenlies at the right hand of his Father. Through faith, we have been seated with Christ in the heavenlies and experience all the spiritual blessings that Christ has to offer us as the exalted lord. Those blessings are best contemplated in silence. They are marvels that contemplation opens up to us. Prayer, then, is more than talking with God; it is also sitting in silence. “Be still and know that I am God.”

Third, we are in rhythm with Jesus, our High Priest, when we love. “God is love,” Jesus teaches. Those who love are born of God (1John 4:7).

Prayer is being in rhythm with Jesus. Caught up into the rhythm of Jesus, we change. Prayer, then, changes us. Laurel Rubalcava, the captain of the Prayer Chain, periodically texts the members of the chain inspirational thoughts about prayer. She texted one by Martin Luther that wonderfully bespeaks the rhythm of prayer. Luther said, “To be a Christian without prayer is no more possible than to be alive without breathing.”

The month of October is conducive to prayer, as it is the month of renewal. October’s orange, red and golden hues invite us to fundamentally change, so that we reflect the spiritual beauty that we are in Baptism. Getting in rhythm with Christ through prayer is key to that spiritual renewal. Moreover, significant saint days are celebrated in October: St. Luke, our namesake, St. Francis of Assisi, and St. Theresa D’Avila. And, on October 31, Martin Luther nailed his ninety five theses on the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg. They are all people who model prayer for us, prayer as being in rhythm with Jesus, our High Priest. As priests under his auspices, he follow Jesus. We do what Jesus is now doing—we pray.

The origin of the Serenity Prayer is not known. Some say that St. Francis of Assisi inspired it; others say it was St. Augustine. Still others say that it has its roots in ancient Mesopotamia. Whatever the origin, there is a truth in that prayer that can help us. What do we have power over? What do we not have power over? The things over which we have no power, can we give them to God? The things over which we do have power, can we face them with courage?

In Job 38:11, God gives Job a necessary perspective as he negotiates his pain. No matter how bedeviling his pain, in the grand scheme of things, both he and his pain are small—nothing. God shows Job a cosmos that is beyond his comprehension in how God manages it, chaos and all. As the cosmos is beyond his comprehension, so is Job’s life. Neither Job nor we can name all the factors in our lives that conspire to produce a given conscious moment. Job has no control over much of his life; yet, he and friends talk as though he does. His friends are convinced that he is in desperate straits because of something he did or failed to do. They try to sift through his secret sins that would produce the fortuitous death of his children. They are convinced that his secret sins are the reason for Job’s misfortune. Job, however, insists that he is innocent. He did nothing wrong.

The lesson here is that bad things do indeed happen to good people. Job is told to put his misfortune in the greater scheme of the cosmos, where God controls the chaos and makes it serve his purpose. Indeed, there are things that happen to us that are beyond our control. In such situations, all we can do is get out of our heads and look up to the heavens.

Jilma and I have a niece who experienced a profound tragedy in high school. She had a best friend whose family lived out their faith in helping people. Melody was a beautiful girl, inside and out. A boy in their high school ran into some trouble with his family. His father kicked him out of the house. He was homeless for a few weeks. Melody heard of the boy’s plight; she told her parents and asked what they could do to help. They decided to take the boy in. About a month later, the boy murdered both Melody and her mother. The tragedy struck deeply in us all who knew Melody: “How could such a tragic thing happen to such good, decent and kind people?” It makes no sense. Indeed, so much is beyond our control. Relative to the universe, we are mere talking particles.

Is it enough, though, to know that truth, to put ourselves and our pain in the larger context of the universe? Is that comforting enough? If that is the only truth we had, then we would be no better off than the ancient Stoics. God cares a lot about us talking particles: God became a man in Jesus to be with us in the things of life beyond our control.

Mark 4:35-41 illustrates this truth wonderfully. As the story goes, Jesus and his disciples are in a boat. A storm occurs out of nowhere—something beyond their control. But, note how they react: they are fearful and cry out. Note Jesus’ reaction: he is asleep on a pillow in the stern of the boat. Is it possible, then, to be more like Jesus in our reactions to the things in life beyond our control? This is the stuff of faith. In the midst of the chaos of life, in the midst of things over which you have no power, Jesus is with you. Instead of looking at the cosmos to denote how small you are, trust that Jesus is with you in the midst of the chaos. With his presence and word you will come to understand what to do with the things over which you have no power and the things over which you do have power.

In 2 Corinthians 6:1-13, St. Paul is keenly of the things over which he has no power. He had no power over how people would respond to the word of truth that he preached, evangelized and taught. He had no power over the beatings, imprisonments, riots, calamities, etc. In all such circumstances beyond his control, however, he does have the power to be patient, to be kind, to speak truthfully, to express genuine love. St. Paul does have power to use the weapons of righteousness, so that when his enemies go low, he always goes high.

Can we react like St. Paul? Can we give to God the circumstances beyond our control; and, yet, amid those circumstances think differently about them, act differently? Can we remain ever hopeful that God will work the good out the bad in his own time? Indeed, God controls the vast cosmos, but God in Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit also deigns to control the anxiety in our vast hearts. It is not enough to cast our pain and suffering in the horizon of the intelligent design of the cosmos. We have a God in Christ who suffers with us, rejoices with us all the way to heaven.

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

The story is told of a man named Truth and a man named Lie. They were standing next to a river. Lie challenged Truth to a race. He claimed that he could swim across the river faster than Truth. Lie laid down the rules of the race. Lie suggested that they had to remove all their clothes and at the count of three, dive into the river and swim to the other side and back. Truth agreed. They removed their clothes. Lie counted to three. Truth jumped in; Lie did not. As Truth swam across the river, Lie put on Truth’s clothes. Lie, then, walked back into town. Lie pretended to be Truth.

When Truth made it back to the place where the race started, he discovered that his clothes were gone. He was naked. Though Lie’s clothes were lying there, Truth refused to dress himself in Lie’s clothing. Truth walked back to town naked. People were startled by the sight of naked Truth. Truth tried to explain what happened, that in fact he was Truth; but, because he was naked, people were uncomfortable looking at Truth. They mocked naked Truth. They shunned naked Truth. Instead, the people of the town chose to believe Lie, because Lie was appropriately dressed.

The moral of the story: charmed by the lie, people would rather believe the lie than the naked truth.

After Pentecost Sunday a couple weeks ago, we have entered the church half of the Church Year. This is the long common season when the paraments on the altar are green, symbolizing growth in the Spirit. As we begin this season of growth, there are some things we need to know about the Spirit. In John 16:1-11, Jesus reveals the naked truth about the Spirit.

The naked truth about the Holy Spirit is that you need a helper. Jesus returned to heaven forty days after Easter, Ascension Thursday. Jesus went up; the Spirit came down. We need the helper, the Holy Spirit, as we cannot live the Christian life through your own power. You need the power residing in Word and Sacrament. There are too many forces arrayed against you, not the least of which is entropy. You are dying. Things fall apart. Life gives and life takes. Mortality has a unique way of reminding you that you came from nothing and are returning to it. That should frighten you. Entropy should convince you that you need a helper. You needed a savior from sin, death and the devil. Jesus is such a savior. Now, as you wend your way through this life, you need a helper. The Holy Spirit is your helper.

The second naked truth about the Holy Spirit is that the Spirit convicts the world of sin, righteousness and judgment. Who is the world? The world is not the people out there, the people who do not know Christ. The world is worldly Christians. Worldly Christians are the hyper spiritual who think they no longer need Christ or anything he has to offer in the way of atonement. They think they no longer sin; they have become perfect. They, however, must be convicted of sin, for all have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God as St. Paul says. Worldly Christians do not accept what Christ is offering. Jesus is the Great Physician who came to save the sick, the sinners, not the self-righteous; they have no need of a physician.

As a consequence of not taking their sin seriously, worldly Christians do not take holiness seriously, for they do not see themselves lacking in anything. They do not respond to the imperative to grow, because they see themselves as perfect, not having failed, not having sinned. Hence, they do not pray. They play games with the things of God, not taking seriously the Word and Sacrament, because they really do not need them. Years ago in Los Angeles, a “Christian” told me that he does not have to attend divine service because he had evolved beyond such “child’s play,” as he characterized it.

Worldly Christians, moreover, think God’s thoughts are their thoughts. They may be religious, but they are not spiritual in the sense of growing in the fruit of the Spirit: in peace, love, joy, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. They must be convicted of righteousness. In other words, God takes spirituality seriously. God takes growth seriously.  

Worldly Christians deemphasize judgment. They fail to realize that they have to give an account of how they have lived: how they have created divisions through their judgments. Because they have judged others, worldly Christians shall be judged. They have played God.

Not only are worldly Christians judged, so is the ruler of this world. The ruler of this world is the guru who informs worldly Christians. That guru could be a theologian, a politician, a philosopher, anyone who makes worldly Christians believe they are the center of world. There is the rub: we live in a narcissistic age. In a fascinating book titled, The Disappearance of Rituals, German Philosopher Byong-Chul Han says: “

The culture of authenticity goes hand in hand with the distrust of ritualized forms of interaction. Only spontaneous emotion, that is, a subjective state, is authentic. Behavior that is formed in some way is denigrated as inauthentic or superficial. In the society of authenticity, actions are guided internally, motivated psychologically, whereas in ritual societies actions are determined by externalized forms of interaction. Rituals make the world objective; they mediate our relation to the world. The compulsion of authenticity, by contrast, makes everything subjective, thereby intensifying narcissistic tendencies. Today, narcissistic tendencies are on the rise because we are increasingly losing the ability to conduct social interactions outside the boundaries of self.” (The Disappearance of Rituals, pg. 31)

Social media have created a culture of authenticity wherein everyone divulges everything about oneself to the point of the pornographic. We live in a world obsessed with the self. This obsession with the self has invaded the church. Little wonder that what goes on in many churches is flat-out narcissistic, an overly preoccupation with the subjective self. A preoccupation with the self, then, is weakening the Body of Christ.

The naked truth is that you will never outgrow your need for a savior in Jesus and a helper in the Holy Spirit. They remind us of our need for redemption in Christ in Word and Sacrament. They remind us of our need for power deriving from outside us in the person of the Holy Spirit in Word and Sacrament. Word and Sacrament are never about the self. They are about what God does outside and inside the self to grow it up into Christ Jesus.

The day I took the train from Berlin to Wittenberg, I felt ambivalent. I felt ambivalent, because there is nothing more anticlimactic than visiting historical sites. Built up over the years through books and documentaries, a historical site never lives up to your conception of it in your mind. Reality has nothing on imagination. The train ride from Berlin to Wittenberg was about an hour and a half. After exiting the train, I made my way to Lutherstadt. My first stop was the cathedral on whose door Martin Luther nailed his Ninety-five theses inviting a debate among scholars.

I was surprised that there were so few people mulling about the cathedral. Together with me, there were about five people in all. The other four had been there before me; so, they soon left. I was left all alone in the church.

It was a beautiful church. The altar was the kind you would see in many of the old midwestern, Lutheran churches where the forebears of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod settled after leaving Saxony, Germany in the mid 19th century. There was a life-size statue of Jesus in the center of the altar surrounded by a facade of white Gothic spires.

As I walked about the church, however, I did not feel any mystery. I did not have any of the feelings that Dr. Martin Luther King’s father had when he visited this cathedral just after Adolf Hitler became chancellor of Germany in 1933. The senior King had such a profound experience in this church that he changed his name upon returning to America. He also changed the name of his 8-year old son, Michael, who we know as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Then I saw it—I saw Martin Luther’s grave. Luther’s grave was what I longed to see.

I stood before it. I was caught in suspension, not knowing exactly what I should do. So, I touched it. I, then, sat down near it. I spent a few moments in contemplation, baffled by the distance between Luther and me. Then, I heard his voice in my head. His voice bridged the historical distance. I heard his joy and zeal. I heard his laughter and his earnest prayers. I heard his scholarly and pastoral brilliance. I had touched a part of the German soul. The German soul, moreover, is not beer and brats, the autobahn, or World War II. It is more than that. Luther played a role in birthing the German soul. He gave the Germans their voice, inasmuch as he gave them their language, Hochdeutsch, “standardized German.” In other European lands, kings and queens standardized the language of their realms; in Germany, however, a theologian standardized German with his translation of the Bible. Luther’s translation of the Bible into German was the hottest ticket to be had, for one held in one’s own hands the words of God. Previously, only priests—the selective elite—had access to the Bible. Luther gave it to everyone. In doing so, he gave the Germans their very soul.

It was the voice of Jesus that informed Luther’s voice. In heeding the voice of Jesus, all that Luther ever wanted was to recover his divine voice in the late medieval church. He wanted to recover Jesus’ voice of kindness, mercy, atonement—Luther wanted the voice of the Gospel to ring out as cathedral bells.

The voice of Jesus, then, transcends time and space, for it is a living voice by virtue of his resurrection from the dead, articulated in the living Spirit among us in Word and Sacrament. What does the voice of Jesus say to us today?

He is the Good Shepherd. He lays down his life for the sheep. Love for the sheep impels Jesus to protect his people from danger. The constant danger is Satan, the wolf, who attacks with temptation to sin, and despair in the face of death. Inasmuch as he continually haunts us as St. Peter says in his epistle, we are in constant need of a Good Shepherd. This divine shepherd demonstrates greater love than any one, as he lays down his life for his friends.

After Easter and Pentecost, the apostles were dependent on the voice of Jesus. After healing a crippled man in the name of Jesus, the voice of Jesus, St. Peter preached to the assembled crowd that had gathered. He and St. John proclaimed Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. 5,000 believed and joined the early church. Such is the power of the voice of Jesus. St. Peter confesses that it was not through any power of his own that the crippled man was healed; he was healed through the voice of Jesus residing in the ministry of believers gathered around Word and Sacrament.

Ultimately, moreover, the voice of Jesus empowers us to do what he did. 1 John 3:16 says, “We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—we ought to lay down our lives for one another.” We certainly know how Jesus laid down his life for us, taking up the cross and being crucified on it. How do we surrender our lives for others? We die to our false selves. In dying to our false selves, we open our hearts to hear the voices of others. We thereby love in deed and truth. The false self keeps us so busy with ourselves that we fail to hear other voices. If we are to be the priests we are called to be in Baptism, then we must be adept at hearing God’s voice and the voices of others. We cannot rightfully pray without hearing God’s voice in the Word and other people’s voices in their struggles.

The soul of the Germans got possessed by an evil man. He led Germany to profound destruction. I still felt the pain in Berlin.

As I walked the streets of Berlin, I thought about what Edith Portesi shared with the Living Way Bible Study that meets Wednesday morning. She was a child in post World War II Germany. She spoke of their deprivation, their constant hunger. For a long time Edith’s generation did not voice their pain.

I came across a book in the window of a bookstore in Berlin: Die Vergessene Generation: die Kriegskinder Brechen ihr Schweigen. “The Forgotten Generation: the Children of the War Break their Silence.”

For a long time, to the dismay of their children and grandchildren, the post World War II generation in Germany did not voice their pain. Now, however, they are beginning to raise their voice to new generations to be wary of ideologies that drive nations to war. Ideology can make anyone appear smart. Hitler and his cohorts were not smart men; in their case, ideology overcompensated for their natural lack. The harsh reality of war is an affront to the arrogance of ideology. As General William Tecumseh Sherman said during the American Civil War, “War is hell.” The children of war attest to that truth.

Following the voice of Jesus provides us with the critical discernment to see through ideology. By following the voice of Jesus, Dietrich Bonhoeffer saw through the veneer of Nazi ideology. In the cauldron of World War II, he heeded the voice of Jesus, even unto death; inasmuch as he did, he could not harken to the voice of the wolf bent on destruction.

There is a Peanut’s Cartoon which features Lucy and Linus. Lucy is Linus’ older sister; and, as older siblings are wont to do, she bosses her little brother around. One day, they were watching TV together when Lucy orders Linus, “Get me a glass of water!” Not to be bullied and intimidated, Linus responds, “Why should I do anything for you? You never do a thing for me!” “Fair enough,” responds Lucy. “On your 75th birthday, I promise to bake you a cake” At that, Linus smiled. He got up with alacrity and headed for the kitchen. On the way, he said to himself, “Life is more hopeful when you have something to look forward to.” Indeed, life is more hopeful when you have something to look forward to.

We look forward to an Easter experience with Jesus. Easter, therefore, makes us more hopeful. Without hope, we atrophy and die. We must have something that engenders hope, because life, relatively speaking, is a long journey. Walter Brueggemen, a noted theologian, said that we begin life in a place of orientation, where everything makes sense. Life is good and goes the way we expect. Then, one day life changes course. We, then, enter a place disorientation. Disorientation is when life does not fit our notions of reality any longer. But, to the extent that we are hopeful, keeping our heads up, we grow into a new orientation.

As we face our individual journeys, Easter gives us reason to always keep our heads up, to hope, for Easter ensures three things.

First, Easter ensures the forgiveness of sin. The ultimate benefit of the sacrifice of Christ is forgiveness. Easter means that the Father has accepted the sacrifice of Jesus. Because he was raised up from the dead, everything Jesus said and did is true; it can be believed with all your heart.

In Numbers 21, the people of God sin profoundly. Their sin was not complaint. We find complaint throughout the Old Testament. In the Book of Numbers specifically, the people complain constantly; Moses complains. Complaining is what humans do. Now, there is a better way to complain that does not create chaos among the people with whom we live and work:  Moses complained to God. It is better to complain to God who can over time do something. Ladies, nothing induces more stress in your husbands than complaint. Men like to fix things and be done with them. From the perspective of men, complaint is an amorphous, disjointed reality in which nothing is ever fixed or finalized. Rather than complain to your husbands, complain to God in prayer.

The real sin of the people of God is that they denigrated the manna. The manna was not just for physical sustenance. It was for spiritual sustenance as well. It was called “the bread from heaven.” The people denigrated God’s provision. The consequence: they made themselves vulnerable. They lost the protective covering of the manna. They made themselves vulnerable to the fiery snakes that were native to the desert. Insofar as they were fed by God and thereby drawn close to God, they were protected from the fiery snakes. When they distanced themselves from God through negative thinking that disconfirmed God’s activity in their lives, they were not protected. They sin profoundly; yet, God provides the means of

forgiveness—the snake on the pole. When we denigrate the things of God, we become vulnerable. You know it—you feel it. Yet, that vulnerability drives you to a forgiving God. So, we keep our heads up, ever hopeful, even amid sin. As Moses lifted up the snake in the desert for the forgiveness of sin and healing, so Jesus was lifted up and has drawn us to himself. We have forgiveness in him.

Second, Easter keeps us ever hopeful, because we have a loving God. John 3:16 says, “God so loved the world.” How did God love the world? He sent his only Son to draw us to himself, to draw us to the one who has life and light. The closer we are to Christ who is our life, we have more light to illuminate our way as we traverse this dark world. Easter invites us already now to remain in him who is the true temple. It is in union with Jesus in the temple that is body in Word and Sacrament that saves us from the darkness of sin to which we are so prone as we wend our way through life.

Through Word and Sacrament, moreover, we participate in Christ. Every good and spiritual gift flows from that participation in Christ. We do not participate in Christ with our good intentions, though lovely they may be. Everybody has good intentions and can rationalize any behavior. Humans are adept at rationalization, for is the mechanism through which we avoid pain, the pain of facing who we really are in the mirror of Word and Sacrament. Good intentions are nothing before God. At the center of any rationalization before God is: “God knows my heart.” Indeed God knows your heart and it is profoundly weak and misguided. It needs the objective guidance of Word and Sacrament, which is participation in Christ. Only those who participate in Christ are saved. Good intentions do not save. The psychopath easily points to the good intentions in his/her heart.

One final reason to keep our heads up, being ever hopeful, is that we are God’s work, God’s special craft. St. Paul says in Ephesians 2 that God is forever working on us through the Spirit. So, then, be careful in construction zones—especially tread lightly in other people’s construction zone. They are a work in progress— don’t judge. Life is hard for everyone, and God is ever working on them. Be patient with yourself and everyone else, for God is not finished with you nor them.

Are we that important to God? Of course! Because of the work of Christ, we have been seated in the heavenlies with Christ. We have a destiny beyond this life; we are already connected to that destiny in a profound, spiritual way that is beyond our brains, of which we only use fifteen percent on a daily basis. How can such a little brain ever figure God out?

Indeed, life is more hopeful when you have something to look forward to. We look forward to our Easter experience in Christ Jesus when we take our last breath on earth. In that Easter experience, death will lose its sting. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

Bethlehem was one of those places that pilgrims and tourists were encouraged not to visit. But, alas, I could not help myself. My trip to the Holy Land would have been incomplete had I not prayed silently at the spot where the manger stood over two thousand years ago. I decided to take a cab to Bethlehem. I was understandably on edge as we exited Israel into the Palestinian Authority. My cab driver was Muslim: he knew the area very well, as he gave ongoing commentaries on the region and Israeli/Palestinian politics. While he spoke, my imagination at times got the better of me when I heard odd noises: cars backfiring, the screams of children, and eerie gaps of silence. I breathed deeply as the cab meandered its way to the place where Mary gave birth to Jesus. Despite the putative dangers in Bethlehem, the Church of the Nativity was packed with people. It was apparent that many, like me, decided to ignore warnings of danger to follow their hearts to venerate the sacred site of Jesus’ birth. One of the advantages of taking a Muslim cab driver to a site like the Church of the Nativity is that the drivers are well connected. I did not have to stand in the line. 

I was escorted to the front of the line upon entering the Church of the Nativity. When I lowered my head to enter the room that housed the cave in which Jesus was born, the room had an aura of peace that was other worldly, despite bodies rubbing against each other in the narrow room. I wanted to stay in that peace, be suspended in that one moment. I knelt down and placed my hand into the silver, star-like piece that marks the spot where Jesus was born. As I touched the spot, all my anxiety was gone. I had no thought about what negative thing might take place next. I was fully in the Now, in the Moment.

On the way back to Israel, the driver took me through several neighborhoods that were under the jurisdiction of the Palestinian Authority. They were veritable ghettos. The contrast was stark between what I saw in the Palestinian Authority and what I experienced daily in Israel, in the Jewish quarter in which my hotel was located. There were hills of uncollected trash throughout the Westbank. It was all so troubling. As I rode, I thought. . .”Given this reality, what really is the significance of the birth of the Christ Child in Bethlehem, the Nativity of the Son of God from the womb of his virgin mother? So many present-day problems are still intractable. War is on the horizon. Strife will never cease here. The birth of the Son of God, however, causes wars in our hearts to cease. The wars in the heart are more intractable, for we live with ourselves 24/7. The peace that Jesus gives already now is a real possibility for our hearts.” 

The words of the angels announcing the birth of the Christ Child at Bethlehem ring especially relevant today: 

Gloria in altissimis Deo et in terra pax in hominibus bonae voluntatis!

Pastor's Page - November 2021

The story is told of a man who prayed the following way:

“Dear Lord, spare me from the stupid, who lack the sense you gave barnyard animals.

"Spare me from the wise, who are only too happy to tell me how the world works.

"Spare me from the indolent, who lecture me on my need to work on their behalf.

"Spare me from the elitists, who continually tell me how they are better than others.

"Spare me from the liberals, who spend my money with reckless abandon, not heeding the consequences.

"Spare me from the conservatives, who ignore change in the world and in themselves.

"Spare me from the moralizers, who continually intone the superiority of their views.

"And, dear Lord, if I missed anyone in this list, then spare me from them as well.”

Of course, this is not the right way to pray. The man prays to be disengaged from others, to be disengaged from life. This is the polar opposite of prayer. Prayer involves us in the lives of others. A most loving sacrifice is to pray for others.

In Jeremiah 31:7-9, we see the first type of prayer. The prophet Jeremiah says, “Sing aloud with gladness for Jacob! Proclaim, give praise, and say: ‘O, Lord, save your people, the remnant of Israel!’”

In what context does Jeremiah encourage his people to sing, proclaim and praise? Worship. Worship is the first form of prayer. The center of worship is praise and adoration. The people of God praise and adore God for keeping his promise in preserving a faithful remnant from which the messiah would come.

The prophet says, furthermore, God will bring his scattered people from the North and all counties. God will return them to their land and there God will be their father. No matter, then, what is happening outside the context of worship, there is great rejoicing and praise, for the Father is together with his children to comfort them, to empower them. At the center of our worship is praise thanksgiving because our sins are forgiven and the Father is with us. God inhabits the praises of his people.

In Mark 10:46-52, we see the second form of prayer at which we must become adept. It is the prayer of importunity. Blind Bartimaeus illustrates the prayer of importunity. It is the prayer that never gives up when God has placed something on your heart.

Jesus enters Jericho. Then the text says, “He left.” Just those terse comments in verse 46. That’s the Gospel of Mark. Jesus is always on the move; he’s taking care of business. One dare not interrupt the hero in his work.

Yet, there is blind Bartimaeus, who, upon hearing Jesus was about to leave Jericho, shouts out: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” The crowd tells Bartimaeus to be silent. They know that Jesus has important work to do. Do not disturb the Messiah who is busy, least of all a blind beggar who symbolizes God’s disfavor. But, Bartimaeus shouts even louder: “Son of David, have mercy on me.” Jesus stops and tells Bartimaeus to come to him. He runs to Jesus and tells him everything. Jesus heals him.

We think that Jesus has bigger things to deal with than our issues. We think that running the universe is greater than our prayer for healing, our prayer for forgiveness, our prayer about the stressful times in which we live. We must never give up on our prayers. The prayer of importunity is the prayer that never gives up because it is buttressed by a loving relationship with Christ. His relationship with you is more important than the abstract, empty universe. Jesus responds to you because of the relationship. In Baptism, you are adopted into Jesus’ family. His Father becomes your Father; Jesus is made your brother.

What does it mean to have a big brother? I was the oldest of my siblings, but I wasn’t the protective big brother because I never had a fight. But, I had a younger brother who functioned as our big brother. I think I was spared many a fight because I was Carl’s brother. The amazing thing about Carl is that he never had a fight. But, he got the reputation not to be messed with. He was one of those alpha males. All he had to do was give someone the look and they ran away. Carl would eventually become a police officer. Likewise, our big brother Jesus protects us because we’re in the family. But, being in the family also means that we can pray in such a way that we never give up until we get an answer.

In Hebrews 7:23-28, we see the final form of prayer, the prayer of intercession. We see that Jesus has a different priesthood than the other priests of tribe of Levi. He is a permanent priest who does not have to make sacrifices for his own sins when ministering, for he has no sin. Therefore he is able to save those who draw near to God through him. He makes intercession for them. Also, he lives forever. Jesus intercedes for us forever. We have been made priests like Jesus. Our job is to intercede for others, to pray for them. The most loving thing we can do is pray for another by bringing that person into our thoughts and feelings, to open ourselves up to such people for whom we pray. Indeed prayer is a loving sacrifice.

The story is told of a farmer who had some puppies to sell. He painted a sign indicating his intention. He attached the sign to a post at the edge of his yard. As he was just about to finish, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the eyes of a little boy.

“Sir,” the boy said. “I want to buy one of the puppies.”

The farmer responded, “These puppies come from fine parents. They’re expensive.”

The boy dropped his head for a moment. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change. He held it up to the farmer. “I’ve got thirty-nine cents,” said the boy. “Is that enough?”

Having compassion on the boy, the farmer said, “OK.” He then whistled. Out of the doghouse ran the mother dog followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy pressed his face against the chain-link fence. His eyes danced with delight at the sight of the puppies. Then the boy noticed something stirring just inside the doghouse. Slowly, another little ball appeared. This one was noticeably smaller. In an awkward manner, he hobbled to catch up with his mother and siblings.

“I want that one,” the little boy said, pointing to the runt.

The farmer responded, “Son, you don’t want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like the other dogs.”

At that, the boy stepped back from the fence. He then rolled up one of the legs of his pants. He revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg ending in a orthopedic shoe. Looking up at the farmer, the boy said, “You see, sir, I don’t run too well myself. I need someone who understands.” With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down and picked up the little puppy.

We all need someone who understands. At the very least, we need someone who can sympathize with us. At the very most, we need someone who can empathize with us.

Sympathy and empathy are often used synonymously. As such, we miss the real impact of empathy. Sympathy is feeling pity for someone. The pity felt may not correspond with what the pitied person is feeling. Empathy is greater, however. Empathy is to share in the feelings of another; so, any expression deriving from such sharing is always appropriate.

Jesus did not come to sympathize with us from a distance. He came to empathize with us, to share in our feelings. Jesus did not come to take away pain and suffering. He did not even come to explain it or philosophize about it. As the reigning Son of God, he came to fill your pain and suffering with his presence. As he is in the middle of the storms of life, so he is in the middle of your grief, your depression, your denial, your anger, and then your resolution to move forward in hope. What a friend we have in Jesus!

In 2 Corinthians 8:1-9, 13-15, St. Paul says that though Jesus was rich, but for your sake he became poor. The Son of God set aside his divine prerogatives and impoverished himself in this physical world. He became what we are physically to make us what he is spiritually. To accomplish that, he became sin for us to make us righteous. We don’t have a God, then, who sits on high and pontificates about sin and redemption. We don’t have a God who philosophizes and theologizes about pain and suffering. We have a God who enters it! The cross is God’s entrance into our pain.  

Mark 5:21-43 shows that Jesus is a friend to everyone. He is a friend to Jairus, the ruler of the synagogue, whose daughter laid on her death bed. He is also a friend to the woman who had a health issue, who suffered much at the hands of doctors.

Jairus, moreover, approaches Jesus directly while he is ministering to the crowds. Jairus inserts himself into that moment, falling onto the ground and imploring Jesus for his daughter who is near death. The woman, however, came at Jesus indirectly. She did so surreptitiously, seeking just to touch the hem of his garment. Faith drove both expressions. Sometimes faith is bold like Jairus. Other times it is quiet like the physically compromised woman, working behind the scenes. Circumstances dictate how faith will operate, whether directly or indirectly. There is, then, no one way to God when hounded by pain and suffering.

The Old Testament book of Lamentations is about grief. The ancient Jews grieved over the loss of life as they knew it. Like the lament psalms, the book commends a relational process as a way to handle grief, pain and suffering. The prophet says to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. What empowers you to wait? The steadfast love of God empowers you to wait; and, God’s faithfulness also strengthens you while waiting on God. God’s steadfast love and faithfulness are at the foundation of our relationship with God. Those empower us to wait and be patient in the grieving process.

How you mourn and grieve is between you and Jesus. No one can vitiate your grief with demands of, “Move on! Get over your grief! Life goes on!” Jesus certainly wouldn’t talk that way to you. As a community, we have gone through a rough patch. Beloved people have transitioned from this life to the next; and, in our heart of hearts we are in the grieving process. As we grieve, we have a God in Christ Jesus who not only sympathizes with us, but who also empathizes with. Empathy is profoundly more healing that sympathy, for the Empathic Christ shares in our mourning. Our mourning and grief are his. What a friend we have in Jesus!

Pastor's Page - September 2021

The story is told of a man who, at the age of 43, made the decision to jump out a plane and parachute to earth. The idea of doing it scared him, but he felt compelled to do it so that he could feel like a real man. He boarded the plane. The door of the plane remained open through the duration of the flight. Soon it was time to jump. Trying not to gag in front of others, the man approached the door of the plane once it was above the clouds. “Don’t think, you coward! Just jump!” he heard a voice say in the back of his head. “What’s the worse that can happen? Living with a lifetime of regret or the parachute not opening?” Amid ambivalent thoughts, the man jumped. He fell to earth at 120 mph. After the initial rush of fear, he began to feel elation as he fell. Oddly, he felt peace and serenity. Frantic thoughts no longer passed through his mind. When he hit the ground, he stood up. Tears welled up in his eyes. He cried because he realized that he would never be a real man. That ship sailed long ago.

The real man is made in making a commitment to a higher purpose that focuses his life. The real man is made in committing himself to his family. The real man is made in taking responsibility for himself and his actions. The real man is made and molded in the process of living, not by doing symbolic actions celebrated in beer commercials. The real man values substance over symbolism. Symbols do not make the man; life does. With every successful facing of the challenges of life, the man is made; the woman is made.

What makes the real Christian? It is certainly not symbolic actions geared for the consumption of others. The challenges of life make the Christian as much as they make the man or woman. And, with each challenge you either grow or remain where you are. Life’s challenges arrive at the doorstep of us all. Life is difficult for everybody. There is no trouble-free life. Others certainly make life difficult; they make life a challenge. Yet, we need them. Life would have no soul without them.

Back to my question: what makes the real Christian? What makes the real Christian has not a whit to do with pious words and phrases that get discredited by how you treat people, what you say about people, how you use your tongue as an instrument of divisiveness. Too many Christians are quick to judge others; too many Christians are quick to rank sins; yet, in their ranking of sin, they fail to rank their own sins of the heart that are far more destructive to communities than the notorious sins of alcoholism and sex. What makes the real Christian? Of course, the Christian is one who believes in Jesus Christ as his/her savior from sin, death and the devil. Elementary, Watson! There is something else, however, that makes the real Christian: The Christian has the ability to see the signs and receive them as visitations from God. The real Christian sees the signs when others cannot. Even amid the challenges of life, the difficulties of life, the true believer can see the signs and appreciate their significance. When others see darkness, the real Christian sees light piercing the darkness. Others see death; the real Christian sees life. Others see a distant, angry God; the real Christian sees a kind, loving God in Christ Jesus who is our friend amid the various challenges of life and through those challenges we mature deeper into him, who is our life, our light, and our future.

In Exodus 16:2-15, God performs a powerful sign for his people in the wilderness. As they journeyed further away from slavery in Egypt, the challenges are ever present. There is no getting around the fundamental chaos that is life. The best laid plans can get frustrated by chaos. Though they are on their way to their own land, their own land they can call their own and where they can rest, there never really is perpetual rest in their life. Even in the Promised Land they will face one crisis after another. The issue is how they face such crises. Do they face them as powerless slaves yearning to return to a previous state of enslavement for the comforts they had? Do they sell their souls for security? Or, do they move forward in faith as men and woman who are not enslaved in their thinking? The present crisis that the people of God face is to wean them of any vestige of their former enslaved life in Egypt. The crisis is meant to reveal hidden attachments to Egypt. They must be free of those attachments if they are to grow into the people God meant them to be.

The crisis: no food, no water. How would you react? You would react like them: you would harken back to better times. That plate of spaghetti you threw away you would wish you had again. Nothing like deprivation lays open the designs of the heart. Much of the generational wealth we possess today comes from people who suffered through the Great Depression. Their deprivation taught them to save for tomorrow and make wise investments. The Great Depression was a crisis that we had to experience to become wise with money. The Civil War, moreover, was a crisis that we had to experience as Americans to see how the union that we cherish can easily disintegrate. The Civil War experience should make us wise about the present-day political conversation. A nation can indeed break up when it is not vigilant and wise in preserving its union. About a month ago, I saw the nearly four hours of Gone with the Wind. I came to the conclusion that Scarlet O’ Hara is a metaphor of the South. Like her, the South was beautiful and impetuous. The South was indeed impetuous to engage the North in war. Rhett Butler tried to convince a group of southern gentlemen that it was suicidal to go to war against the North given their industrial superiority. Self-deluded, the headstrong South ran headlong into disaster. The same is occurring today. America has never had it so well. So many of the economic, political and social problems that bedeviled former generations do not exist. In our prosperity and well-being, we are in the process of creating problems about which to fight among ourselves. I guess that reveals the condition of the human heart: it is ever restless; it sabotages itself. The human heart needs a divine savior.

What was the deprivation of the past year of crisis supposed to reveal to us, so that we might be open to God’s sign, God’s gracious visitation? Each of us has to answer that for himself/herself. For the ancient people of God on their way to the Promised Land, their deprivation occasioned God providing for them. God would certainly do that. The issue is whether they trust that God would give them all they need. The deprivation in the wilderness was a sign to learn something about themselves and God. God provided meat in the quail and bread in the morning. The crisis was meant to grow them up for the next phase of their life in the Promised Land.

In John 6:22-35, Jesus fed five thousand people. Experiencing the miracle, some track down Jesus to make him their king in whom they could place all their longings. Jesus responds that they sought him not because of the sign, but because they ate of the bread. They failed to see the spiritual significance of the sign. The sign had a human component: the satisfaction of hunger. But, the sign also had a divine component: satisfaction of spiritual hunger in Jesus who is the bread of life, the bread of heaven. The true believer in Jesus can see the full significance of the sign: he/she can see both the human and divine dimensions. It is not enough for us to be so heavenly minded that we are of no earthly good. And, it is not enough for us to be so earthly minded that we fail to see that heaven is our home. The Christian can see more. For the Christian, the worship service is the place to experience Christ in the signs. He/she can see beyond the typos in the bulletin. He/she does not grumble or complain in worship and thereby miss the full significance of the sign.

In worship, there is something we do and there is something only God can do. If we fixate on what we do or on what others are doing, then we miss what God is doing. The more we focus on ourselves, on the ego, the less we experience God. In my childhood church, Peace Lutheran, Pomona, my siblings and I used to watch people in the worship service. We spied how they worshipped, how they acted after worship. We knew the hypocrites and pretenders. We would talk about them. We could spot the fakes. We cringed at the man who picked his nose during worship. We mimicked how people sang, how they talked. We laughed at their expense. I recall my mother telling us on no few occasions: “Keep your mind on God!” She would tell us: “Don’t pay attention to what others are doing. It’s about what God is doing.” Despite her sage advice, I’ve heard my unchurched siblings give as their reason for the not attending worship: “The hypocrites in the church.” Indeed, there are hypocrites in the church as there are in any human organization. Such is life. God is also present among those hypocrites doing his work in the sign, making possible the experience of Christ Jesus in the forgiveness of sins and empowerment through the Spirit.

In the Sacraments, moreover, there is something we do and there is something that God does. At the Eucharist, it is our charge to do everything in remembrance of the life and death of Christ. Indeed, this is how we focus our minds. In the Eucharist there something God does alone, however. Only God can bring together the bread and the body of Jesus, being together the wine and the blood of Jesus so that they become for us spiritual food. The Christian sees the full significance of signs in worship. When you complain and gripe about what is happening in worship, then you are not centered on what God is doing. There is a better way. 4 (cont.) In Ephesians 4:1-16, St. Paul says, “Speak the truth in love.” There is a loving way to say things and there is an unloving way to say things. Complaining, griping and tearing down people behind their backs are not the loving ways to communicate. To speak the truth in love is to reach a maturity in Christ. Paul says that Christ descended to the depths and ascended. Because of his ascent and descent, he gifted the people of God with every spiritual blessing. Christ has established various ministries to build up the body of Christ so that we reach maturity. Maturity is characterized by two things:1) not being tossed to and fro by every wind of doctrine; and 2) speaking the truth in love. How you speak tells me your level of maturity. To gripe and complain is not speaking the truth in love. It may be true that we need to change a light bulb or two in the church, but to command that someone do it because you have given yourself an inflated sense of your importance is not speaking the truth in love. To tear down someone behind his/her back is not speaking the truth in love. To do such means that you have not matured no matter how pious your words may be. There is always a spirit that animates your words. The spirit in which you say something is just as much a part of communication as the words you use to communicate your idea’s feelings. The spirit provides emotional flavor to what you say. It is the source of our interrelatedness with each other. You must ask yourself in all your relationships: “What spirit animates my words? What are the words I say and what is the spirit that people feel?” Recall the adage: “The medium is the message.” How you say something communicates infinitely more than what you say. Strife in our marriages could be reduced significantly if we paid more attention to how we communicate. Maturity in Christ demands such. You can measure your own maturity in Christ: how are you communicating? Are you speaking the truth in love?

Rev. Gregory O. Rand

He wanted to learn to preach. And, indeed, Pr. Greg did become an outstanding preacher. Carrington Burch once told him: “You preach almost as well as Pr. Tim.” I shall never forget his first sermon. I can recall it as though he preached it yesterday. It remains my favorite sermon that he gave at St. Luke. He set the mood perfectly with his story about the honeymoon trip he and Jennifer took to Ireland. He spoke of the beautiful stain-glass windows of a medieval church they encountered. At the right time of the day, just before dawn or dusk, the stain-glass windows diffused a rainbow of subdued light throughout the church that carried one to the portals of a mystical experience. All he and Jennifer could do was bask silently in the joy of the light.

Preaching is an art. Preaching is also revelatory. It reveals the soul of the one who preaches. Pr. Greg’s sermons were a window into his soul. His sermons revealed to me what preoccupied his soul. The calling on Pr. Greg’s soul was to preach. He did it so seamlessly and creatively. His sermons, moreover, were the way in which he was working through his theology and spirituality. More than that, they were the fora in which he was working through his emotional issues. Martin Luther once said of pastors and theologians: oratio, tentatio et meditatio faciunt theologum, “Prayer, testing and meditation make a theologian.” The prayer, testing and meditation that make a pastor are experienced in the sermon.

Sermon preparation begins with prayer. In our many conversations about everything under the sun, I told Pr. Greg that he must bedraggle his sermon preparation with prayer. Sermon preparation begins with the simple prayer: “Lord, what is your word to your gathered people? What do you want me to communicate?” It only makes sense to ask for God’s input, as it is his word that a pastor speaks forth and the souls to whom he preaches belong to God. More than that, however, God is the creative one. God created the universe and continues to drive it through creativity. There are two essential qualities attributable to God: God is creative as Moses taught; and, God is love as Jesus taught. God’s creativity and love are essentially and mutually related. You cannot have one without the other. Creativity, in fact, is a function of love. God creates because God loves; God loves because God creates. The way, then, to tap into the creativity of God is to pray regularly, structurally and consistently. Prayer ought be the first and last thing a pastor does in a given day. A pastor dare not get so busy that he neglects to pray.

Indeed, the sermon begins with prayer and is ultimately preached in prayer, as the sermon is the place of profound testing. All hell breaks loose on a pastor Saturday night before the sermon. And, it breaks loose yet again after the sermon Monday morning. There is an emptiness that pastors feel on Monday morning that causes them to fill it up with too much of a good thing. Saturday evening and Monday morning are the times when a pastor is most vulnerable to the onslaught of the demonic. His doubts and fears about himself get exposed Saturday night. His inappropriate defense mechanisms come to the forefront Monday morning in processing the unkind and unwise things members might have said Sunday morning.

Anxiety, moreover, roils in us all: the stress of making a living; nurturing a family; caring for children; and life and death issues. The pastor has his personal anxiety to bear; yet, he shares partially in other people’s anxiety. The devil can poke at him from so many directions that at times it becomes unbearable. I recall a pastor in St. Louis who was late beginning the worship service. Everyone wondered where he was, as the 8:30am service was already a half hour late. The elders entered his office and found him under his desk in a fetal position. Pr. Greg and I spoke often about the testing phase. During this testing phase, I counseled a strong prayer life. It is the only way to handle such tests. This is what Jesus did regularly, for no pastor ever bore a heavier cross, actual or figurative, than Jesus, or St. Paul for that matter. Attacks are part and parcel of the calling. They are necessary; they grow us up. They hurt; nevertheless, they drive us to solace and healing in prayer. Such a refuge is not found among fickle people who always disappoint.

Finally, just as the pastor has to have a strong prayer life to deal with the assaults of the devil, so he must also meditate regularly and profoundly on the word of God. It was in this area that Pr. Greg and I were a blessing to each other. Our study and meditation on the word yielded so many delightful conversations. Since his translation to eternal life, my mind has been rehearsing those many conversations we had, some lasting three to four hours. A major theme of our discussions was, of course, Lutheranism. All pastors and theologians are trying to understand our tradition in this postmodern context.

Pr. Greg, moreover, loved to read systematic theology. He had a mind wired for synthesizing ideas. He could easily see the big picture presented in the many pieces. It was toward the end of his life that he came to appreciate even more what Lutheranism offered to the Body of Christ. He came to see that he could rest in the all sufficiency of Christ. He came to see that his cancer diagnosis was not punishment from God, but an entrée to the profound mystical experience that occurs when we are imbued with the light of the beatific vision of Christ after we take our last breath on earth. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, the Beautiful Shepherd, kept his promise to Pr. Greg: he snatched him from the clutches of death and ushered him to life eternal.

Pr. Greg, my dear brother:

 In paradisum deducant te angeli;

in tuo adventu suscipiant te martyres,

et perducant te in civitatem sanctam

Jerusalem

Chorus angelorum te suscipiat,

et cum Lazaro quondam paupere

aeternum habeas requiem.

May the angels lead you into

paradise;

May the martyrs receive you at your

arrival,

And may they lead you into the holy

city of Jerusalem.

May the choir of angels receive you,

And with Lazarus, that poor man,

May you have eternal rest.

Pastor's Page - June 2021

The story is told of a young man driving his car. He saw an elderly woman stranded by the side of the road. So, he slowed down. He parked his Pontiac behind her Mercedes. And, then, he got out of his car.

As the young man approached her, understandably the woman was anxious. So, he smiled at her to disarm any defensiveness and to quell her anxiety. But, it didn’t work, as the elderly woman continued to look at him with great suspicion because of his shabby dress and his overall poor appearance. The man could see that he wasn’t well received; so, he said as reassuringly as he could, “I’m here to help you. For future reference, my name is Bryan Anderson.”

The tire was flat. So, Bryan changed the tire. In the process, he got a little dirty. When he had finished, the woman asked him how much she owed him for his help. He said, “I don’t want anything. If you want to pay me back, then the next time you see someone in need, then help that person and think of me.”

That same evening, the elderly woman stopped by a small cafe. The place was dingy. Her waitress was a young woman. She was about eight months pregnant. Though she had been on feet all day, she greeted the elderly woman with a smile. Throughout her interaction with the waitress, the waitress had a kind and loving disposition. The elderly woman thought to herself, “She’s such a little thing. She must be tired. Yet, how can she be so kind to a stranger?” Then she remembered Bryan.

The elderly woman finished her meal and paid for it with a hundred dollar bill. The waitress went to get the change. When she returned, the lady was gone. She left a note on the napkin: “You don’t owe me anything. Somebody earlier helped me. I want to help you. If you want to pay me back, then help someone in need.” The waitress, then, found four more hundred dollar bills under the napkin.

When the waitress returned home that night, she thought of how the elderly woman helped her. She wondered how the woman could ever have known how much she and her husband needed that money. Her husband worried a lot about money with the baby on the way; so, she was glad to tell her him about the money. Then, she hugged him and said, “I love you, Bryan Anderson. Everything is going to be alright.”

The good you do to others returns to you. Jesus taught, “Give and it will be given to you.” If you want people to respect you, then respect them. If you want people to be patient with you, then be patient with them.

If we are to make better the micro worlds in which we live, then we have to understand our priestly role to serve both God and people. Martin Luther’s reform of the church gave to the Body of Christ an understanding of every Christian’s role as a priest who serves God and people. In fulfilling that role, we emulate Jesus, who did not come to be served but to serve and give his life as a ransom for many.

In Mark 10:35-45, James and John make a worldly request of Jesus. When Jesus brings about his kingdom, they ask him to place one of them on his right and the other on his left. They ask Jesus to put them in positions of power and prominence. They are looking out for their own interests and what they can garner from being in Jesus’ inner circle.

Jesus’ kingdom, however, is not like the worldly empires. He did not come to serve himself. His followers are expected to be like him in not serving themselves. Those who want to be first must serve. Hebrews 5:1-10 tells how Jesus served us as our high priest. According to the author, Jesus did not exalt himself. His Father appointed him at his Baptism when he said, “You are my Son.” As our high priest, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears. When? In the Garden of Gethsemane! It was there that the burden of the weight of the world’s sin broke tortured him psychologically. He was so plagued that he prayed, “Father, if it is possible, take this cup from. But, nevertheless, not my will but yours be done.” Jesus surrendered. He obeyed.

Because of Jesus’ obedience, moreover, he was designated the high priest. A high priest has priests working with and under him. Who are these other priests? You and I! We are made such at Baptism where God calls us “son” and “daughter.” As priests, we hear from God to instruct people. As priests, we hear from people to tell God. You are to pray. There is no such thing as a follower of Christ who does not pray. If you do not pray, then check your heart, for prayer reveals the condition of your heart as a priest.

As a priest, moreover, you must be mindful of what God is writing on your heart. Such writing informs your prayers. The prophet Jeremiah (Jeremiah 31:31-34) says that God would establish a new covenant with his people. It would be a covenant written on their hearts, not merely on a scroll. God would do a work on their hearts, opening up their hearts to be sensitive to his Spirit. God renews the heart through Christ Jesus, who came to defeat sin, death and the devil and thereby put his spirit in us. The Spirit is the vital connection to the heart of God. God’s heart is joined to our hearts through the Spirit. What, then, is God writing on your heart for which to pray? God is writing indeed; but, are you reading what God is writing on your heart? You may have to give God a blank sheet of paper on which to write. You make your heart a blank sheet of paper through repentance. Such repentance is an opening of your heart to God, so that he may write messages to you to give others.

On Trinity Sunday, we enter the church half of the Church Year. The Christ half of the Church Year (Advent to Pentecost Sunday) showed us how we have been made priests through the ministry of Jesus, the great high priest. Now, in the church half of the Church Year (Holy Trinity Sunday to Christ the King Sunday in November) we grow in our ministry as priests. Such growth is conditioned on being sensitive to God’s heart and the hearts of the people with whom you live, work and worship. Indeed our times demand hearts open to God to hope and hearts open to people to love. The love we give returns to us.

Pastor's Page - May 2021

The story is told of two men who were imprisoned in the same cell. Though they both were in the same miserable conditions, one was happy; the other, unhappy.

“Why are you always so sad,” the happy prisoner asked the unhappy one. “Why should I be happy?” responded the unhappy prisoner. “I have no luck. Recently, I was free. I had sport and leisure at a world class resort. I had everything at the snap of two fingers. At that resort, life was infinitely better than this dark, dank, dingy, dirty cell.”

After ruminating on his former life for a few more minutes, the unhappy prisoner then asked the happy prisoner, “Why are you so happy? Why are you so satisfied with this cell?”

“You see,” responded the happy prisoner. “Recently I was in another prison. The conditions there were worse. This cell is like a resort compared to what I had. In fact, many prisoners in my former prison want to serve their time here; so, I consider myself the lucky one. I’m happy.”

The moral of the story:  Everything is relative. We learn most by comparison. If you want to be happy, then compare your present situation not to what is better, but compare it to what is worse. When your mother taught you to eat your vegetables by saying that there were starving children in the world who would love to eat what you throw away, she was teaching you to compare your life to what is worse. Such a comparative lesson taught you humility. It also taught you gratitude. God would also teach you the same.

The prophet Isaiah says in the 52nd chapter of his book: “How beautiful are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness.” The prophet is speaking to people who are not happy. How could they be? They had lost everything to a Babylonian invasion and then carted off to exile in Babylonia. Their lives had been fundamentally altered. You understand that, as this year of the Pandemic has altered your life as well and has made you at times unhappy.

The temptation of the people to whom Isaiah spoke was to fixate on the life they once had and thereby compare it to their present deprivation and misery. Such a methodology cannot yield happiness, however. The Israelites in the wilderness on their way to the Promised Land compared their life in the wilderness to the life they had back in Egypt. They fantasized about the abundance of food in Egypt at their disposal. Returning to slavery in Egypt to have access once again to such enjoyment seemed to them a better option than the deprivation and want in the wilderness. Such rumination only made them more unhappy.

Instead, Isaiah encouraged his audience to look at the wastelands of Jerusalem breaking forth into singing, because God was comforting his people. And, how beautiful are the feet of those who reveal that good news to them, the good news of happiness that God was comforting them and empowering them in the wastelands of their lives. Likewise, the message to you: Drop the idealized version of your life; God is in the process of comforting and empowering you in the wastelands of your life so that they sing. How can grief sing? How can depression sing? How can guilt sing? I have no idea. Only God knows how to work in the shadows of life to redeem, heal and uplift.

The disciples of Jesus certainly do not have beautiful feet. They are a sorry lot. Jesus upbraids them for not believing the testimony of the women that he had risen from the dead. What made them such an unhappy lot? Their expectations of Jesus were not met. They wanted a savior on the Roman throne of power, not a reigning monarch in their hearts. They compared their sorry lives to their idealized version of Jesus who would grant them political perks. They did not care about a resurrected savior over sin, death and the devil. They did not want a monarch over their hearts.

Jesus, nevertheless, would work with them through the Holy Spirit. Signs follow their proclamation. The signs were to bolster and strengthen their faith that Jesus had greater fish to fry than the Romans or the Jewish leaders. Jesus came to defeat sin, death and the devil.

Moreover, great signs certainly validated Paul’s ministry. He needed them because he didn’t have the best reputation among Christians. He persecuted them before Christ knocked him off his high horse on the way to Damascus. He killed Christians; so, the Christian community did not trust him. Yet, one of the great signs that confirmed Paul’s ministry was the community that surrounded him. Faithful ones, like Luke and Mark, were committed to his ministry. While others abandoned Paul, Luke remained faithful to him. Paul asked Timothy to send him Mark, because he was most useful. Indeed Mark was most useful. With the gospel he wrote, Mark unified in Antioch the followers of Peter and Paul and their traditions. While being committed to Paul, he used Peter as a source to write the Gospel Mark.

Paul, moreover, always compared himself to the worst case scenario of his own life. He readily recounted his former life as a sinner, calling himself the least of the apostles because he killed Christians. Yet, he knew forgiveness in Christ. Christ was active in the sinner man Paul to heal and forgive. So, he was satisfied with Christ. He was ready to die, to transition from this life to the next. He knew that Jesus, the Good Shepherd, would let him die. But, he knew that Jesus would come to him to raise from death and escort him to the next life.

I recall a pastor saying at a pastors’ conference that his responsibility was to get his people ready for death. I thought that was a strange way to put it; it seemed a morbid preoccupation. Life was hard enough. We need much wisdom to navigate life. Yet, what the pastor said is actually profound. We have no abiding place here. The denial of death is legendary in our society. Indeed can we, however, be like Paul who said to live was Christ, to die was gain? Len Meyers got to that point. Len Meyers told his beloved Margaret that he was ready to die. He was satisfied with the course of his life; he had lived a good life. He was ready to move on to the better life awaiting all who believe in Jesus. That is what Paul meant as well. Can you get to the point that you really believe that to live is Christ, to die is gain?

Indeed your life could be worse. Friday night, Mimi sent me an email asking me to pray for a relative. He is 57. He has two daughter ages 25 and 12. He suffered a stroke. Doctors did not expect him to survive. His prognosis was most pessimistic. I wrote a prayer which I emailed to her. In prayer, I found myself comparing my life to his. All of a sudden, I became grateful for the 7 years I have over Jay. I got grounded in the moment, in the Now. I compared my life to the worse and humility and gratitude burst from such a comparison.

God sometimes has to jerk us into greater awareness in the Now by impelling us to compare our lives to the worst case scenarios of life. Life, being tragic at its core, is replete with them. The awareness that comes from comparing your life to the worst case scenarios opens you to humility and gratitude. Happiness is the product of humility and gratitude.

Pastor's Page - April 2021

Many moons ago, when most Americans were poor, we drove great distances on family vacations to visit relatives. Californians would load up the family station wagon and drive to destinations east of California to visit their kinfolk whom they left behind in their home towns. That was an American ritual that President Dwight Eisenhower made easier with the construction of the Interstate Highway System in the late 1950s.

I recall one such road trip we took in the mid 1960s to Springfield, Louisiana. That was my father’s hometown. My father and his cousin, Jeff, drove the car. They drove straight through from California to Louisiana. In the 1960s, that was how African-Americans traveled in the South. They drove straight through from one destination to another, stopping long enough along the highway to take care of their physical needs. Even if they had the money to stay in a hotel along the Interstate Highway, racial discrimination barred them from doing such.

My younger brothers and I looked up to Jeff. To us, he seemed bigger than life, because he served in the military in Germany. He taught us Karate moves and told us stories of beautiful German women. My three brothers and I piled onto the back seat of Jeff’s 1963 Impala SS.

To take a long road trip in those days, you had to have plenty of provisions: food and drinks. My mother fried chicken. She made different types of sandwiches. There was an ice chest into which she placed sodas. Together with the suit cases in the trunk, we had room enough only for the essentials.

We took the Interstate 10. At outset of the trip, everyone was upbeat: we were going to visit Grandma in Louisiana. We were going to the country to be with our cousins. What an experience in the country awaited us city boys! On the anticipation alone, driving through California, Arizona and New Mexico was a breeze. The only entertainment we had was an am radio, whose stations we had to change often to find the R&B music we liked. More often than not, country western stations had the strongest signals; so, we got our fill of cowboy dirges. There was no air conditioner in the car; accordingly, we had to time our trip just right so that we would travel through the bulk of Texas at night.

Indeed traveling through Texas in the summer without an air conditioner was like walking through hell. Texas took a lot out of us. We lost the initial optimism with which we had begun the trip. It was hot and uncomfortable. We got on each other’s nerves. When we entered Texas, the mood changed. It was the official South. My father and Jeff, having been raised in the South, became more vigilant, often looking in the rear view mirror and side view mirror. They were more cautious. It was like driving through a rough neighborhood. In Texas, they had taken on a different persona. They feared getting stopped by a Texas Ranger, or worse: the Ku Klux Klan. Jeff told us stories about them. Jeff and my father had an uncle lynched by them. We felt vulnerable in the South, in the heat, in the anxiety that something could happen at a moment’s notice. . .

The Israelites certainly felt this way on their journey from Egypt to the Promised Land in Canaan. How gloriously they set off on that journey after experiencing liberation from Egypt. The way through the desert would not be easy, however. God, then, provided them with provisions: the leadership of Moses; food from heaven, angel food; and water. Understandably, they got weary. They went to the dark side. They attacked God. They attacked Moses. They denigrated God’s provision. God sent fiery snakes among them as a consequence of their choice of going to the dark side. The law says there are consequences to the choices that we make.

Yet, God, full of mercy and love, provides a way out. He tells Moses to construct a bronze snake and place it on a stake. Those who looked upon the posted snake in faith were healed. It took faith to look up at something that caused your demise. Yet, those who did so were healed.We have taken a long journey through the desert of this life. Our destination is eternal life with Christ and all the saints. Understandably along the way, we, too, get weary. Nobody ever said life would be easy. It is hard for everyone. Sometimes we go to the dark side and get bitten.

Yet, God has provided us with all the provisions for this journey in the Crucified One. We look to him for the bites of sin. In the Crucified One, we see our own death. Life is the seed that bursts forth from his death. Jesus, the Crucified One, is the seed that must fall to ground and eventually germinate and thereby produce a great harvest.

Paul says, moreover, we were dead in trespasses and sins, but we have been made alive through Christ. We have been raised up! We have been seated with Christ in the heavenly places: we reign with Christ. Sin, death and the devil do not reign over us. It’s all Easter for us. Easter is our destination; therefore, we do not lose hope.

. . . To get through Texas, we had to keep our hope on Grandma’s house. Wonderful things would happen there. Grandma’s house was worth the heat in the car; it was worth the anxiety of traveling in the South. It was worth it all. Grandma’s house was a place of many gifts, much rich food, and fun with our cousins. Stories and experiences that I still carry in my heart.

Something greater than Grandma’s house awaits us: Easter, our resurrection from the dead. So, do not lose hope. Don’t get weary. Don’t complain. Soon the journey will end. But, how do you want it to end? Already now, you can live with the Easter joy that Jesus gives through the power of the Holy Spirit. John says in Jesus is life. His life is the light of the world. The closer you get to Christ, who is your life, the more Easter light you have to handle the pandemic; the more Easter light you have to quell your fears and anxieties; the more Easter light you have to handle the political swings in contemporary American life. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

Pastor's Page - March 2021

The story is told of a boy who belonged to a very wealthy family. His father took him on a trip to the country. The purpose of the trip was to show his son how poor people lived. In relation to them, the father hoped his son would see how blessed he was and not to take his advantaged life for granted. They arrived at a farm of a very poor family where they stayed for several days. The father had arranged everything beforehand. During their stay, the family was very gracious and loving.

On the way home, the father asked his son, “How did you like the trip?” “It was great, dad,” the boy responded. “Did you noticed how poor people live?” asked the father. “Yes, I did,” his son responded enthusiastically. “What were your impressions?” queried the father. “Well” said the boy. “We have only one dog; they have four. At night, we have expensive lanterns around our house to light it; they have the stars above their heads. We have a small piece of land on which our house is built; they have endless fields all around their farm. We buy food; they grow their food. We have a high fence around our property for protection; they have no need for such a fence. Their friends protect them.” The father was stunned by his son’s impressions. He couldn’t say a word. Then, the boy said: “Thank you, dad, for showing me how poor we really are.”

During Lent, the preeminent penitential season of the Church Year, the Lord shows us how poor we are. We are poor, because we are without spiritual resources of our own. When Jesus said, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” He was talking about us, the poor ones. Our poverty is especially evident as we face temptation. Every follower of Christ undergoes temptation, testing. Such testing strengthens us by first exposing our weaknesses, vulnerabilities, and poverty and then showing us the way out of such testing through Christ. Every temptation is meant to teach us to always consider Jesus first as the way out, not our own psychological resources. Too often we make Jesus the last option.

Abraham got tested. He was the friend of God; nevertheless, God tested him. Why? If he is to be the father of faith, if by his seed the whole world would be blessed, if Abraham is to be the example of faith, then he must get tested. God must test him, so that Abraham’s way of faith and trust in God becomes normative for all people of faith, whose father is Abraham.

Look how God tested Abraham. His test was the opposite of faith. He was tempted to sacrifice his son, Isaac. Child sacrifice was the polar opposite of faith. Child sacrifice was an abomination to God. The word hell (Gehenna) derives from the place in ancient Israel where children were sacrificed. Ancient peoples sacrificed their children for favor from God: good fortune, good luck, or an abundant harvest. Children were sacrificed for the convenience of the living. Yet, God tested Abraham by telling him to sacrifice Isaac. When Abraham proved that he would follow God’s every word, God stopped him from sacrificing Isaac and then provided another sacrificial victim. God’s strange request was meant to teach that child sacrifice was not the way to curry favor with God. God himself will provide the sacrifice that redeems.

Abraham, moreover, was tested to determine whether his relationship with God was greater than any benefits deriving from that relationship. Is God his friend because of what he can get out of God? Or, is God his friend because he loves him? A theologian once prayed, “O God if I worship you for fear of hell, then burn me in hell. If I worship you in hope of heaven, then exclude me from heaven. But, if I worship you for your own sake, then let me see your everlasting beauty.”

Seeking God for what you can get from God is old, ancient religion. Following God for the perks and good life is not to embrace God as a friend. In your spiritual poverty, you need a friend. God wants to be your friend as you journey through life. God wants to be your companion along the way, your fellow sufferer along the way, your friend. God’s friendship enriches you beyond anything.

As Abraham got tested, so did Jesus. Jesus is the Son of God, the beloved Son of the Father. Yet, the Spirit sent him into the desert to be tested. Why? If Jesus is to be the savior of the world, if he is the one who defeats sin, death and the devil, then he must be tested. He must demonstrate his power over the demonic so that we follow him. If we are to trust Jesus, if we are to trust his word, then he must be tested to prove the authenticity of his word. Jesus’ word is the precious metal on which you can build your life.

In Mark’s version of the temptation of Jesus in the desert, angels minister to him. Though Jesus is the Son God, the beloved, yet angels care for him amid the temptation. If Jesus, having great spiritual wealth and power, has ministering angels, how much more do we need them in our spiritual poverty. As we face testing, we do not fall through the cracks because the angels sustain us. We pray in the Lord’s Prayer: “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” That is a petition asking for God’s angels to snatch us out of testing that would destroy our faith.

At death, moreover, we shall all be judged. How that judgment will unfold, we don’t know with any specificity. Just maybe there will be a review of your life to demonstrate how you have used the resources God has given you. There are allusions to that in scripture, as each steward has to give an account. The veil will be lifted, and you will see the many times angels stepped in to protect you. You will see the close calls. You will, then, praise God for his loving providence throughout your life. There has been a divine intelligence over your life that you cannot fathom. You will enter the gates of heaven having realized how valuable a gift your faith was; so valuable, in fact, that God protected it with his holy angels. James 1:12-18 makes it clear that you get tested. You get tested because you are an heir to eternal life with Christ and all the saints.

This life is one vast testing ground. After the Israelites were freed from slavery in Egypt, after they emerged from the waters of the Red Sea victorious, they underwent a testing period of 40 years. By the same token, you have been freed from the slavery of sin. You have emerged from the waters of Baptism victorious in Christ into whom you were baptized. Yet, you are undergoing a testing period until God ends it. Your life is framed by periods of testing. The Pandemic has been a test. Every stage of your life has been a test, an occasion to strengthen your faith and trust in God. In the end, your faith in God is what matters, for it is of eternal value.

Look at what James says as you face various temptations: “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”

We change constantly. With some changes we become impoverished. Life has a way of giving and taking. God, however, does not change. God in Christ Jesus in the power of the Spirit is the one constancy in our protean life. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” This Lent, we embrace our poverty, for it invites God to enrich us through Christ. St. Paul, moreover, had a big enough God to accompany him in prison. God’s accompaniment of Paul in prison enabled him to be joyous despite the negative circumstances of prison in the ancient world, which had no concept of prison reform or respect for the humanity of prisoners. If you had debt in the ancient world, you and your whole family could be thrown into prison. You lost everything in prison, especially your humanity. Yet, Paul remains joyous. His letter to the Philippians is replete with joy. You have to wonder how he kept such a joyous tone. If anyone had any reason to be anxious, it was him. He was in chains. Yet, he rejoices. He writes these powerful words: “Whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, think about such things.” These are God’s truth, splendor and glory with which God will swallow up death forever.

God’s truth, splendor and glory are Christ who defeats death for us. God’s truth, splendor and glory are forever; they have the power to give you peace now. Do you have a big enough God that enables you not to be consumed by anger? These trying days, we have many reasons to be angry. But, we should not let the sun go down on our anger, as the Bible would say. It’s understandable that you would be angry: life as you know and love it has been inextricably altered. It seems difficult to return to life before the Pandemic. Get angry, but don’t sin. Control your anger; don’t let it destroy the ones you love.

Do you have a big enough God for the crisis today, a God big enough to be your shepherd? A God big enough to swallow death forever with his truth, splendor and glory? A God big enough to wipe away your tears? A God big enough to befriend you, accompany you along the way, who can take into himself your experience of sin, death and evil and redeem them with his love and return to you possibilities for the abundant life in Christ Jesus? This is the God who gives you a transcendent purpose to moor your life in peace, love and joy. Psychologically, now more than ever we need this transcendent purpose.

I have no way to prove the following. But, I have a sneaking suspicion that St. Luke was one of few churches in the City of Claremont that held public worship on Christmas Eve. Before returning home after the service, I drove around the city. I drove by some of the major churches. There was no sign of life. The city was a ghost town. There was an eerie silence throughout the city. It looked ominous, almost apocalyptic. It brought to mind the silence in heaven after the 7th seal was opened in Revelation 8:1. The silence was the calm before the impending storm.

Indeed, throughout the media, some pundits are predicting a Great Depression in the next two years. Dr. Anthony Fauci says that the Pandemic numbers continue to be dramatic: the worst is yet to come after the holiday season. Other pundits are saying that the worst is behind us. Whom should we believe? What fuels our anxiety most is that we don’t know what expert to believe.

As on Christmas Eve in the City of Claremont, some churches in John’s day were silenced. They were not silenced by an invisible enemy like the Pandemic. They were silenced by an all too visible one. They were silenced by persecution. The persecution of Christian churches happened sporadically throughout the Roman Empire. John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, was silenced, banished to the island of Patmos for preaching the Gospel. The Romans could silence his mouth; but, they could not silence his spirit. “On the Lord’s Day John was in the Spirit.” In the Spirit, Jesus revealed to him what was to unfold for the Christians undergoing persecution. There are places where no empire can tread, however. And, one of those places is the human spirit that is open to the Holy Spirit. Such spirits do the heroic.

As we face the New Year, like John can we exist in such a spiritual place that the exigencies of life do not scare us to death? John’s spirit is symbolized by the eagle. The eagle transcends all other creatures. The eagle soars high; it is free. To whom should we pay attention in 2021? We should listen to our spirits as they are informed and led by the Holy Spirit. We must be like John. We must soar; we must transcend. What empowered John’s spirit to soar like an eagle?

First, the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross made John soar like an eagle. In Revelation 1:5, John says: “To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood and made us a kingdom of priests to his God.” The sacrifice of Jesus on the cross is where he spilled his blood. The spilling of his blood grants forgiveness. The Bible says, “There can be no forgiveness without the spilling of blood.” John needed forgiveness like all people. He was prone to sinning like us all. Yet, he experienced forgiveness through the shed blood of Jesus. Through forgiveness, he was as free as an eagle. Forgiveness made him soar. Forgiveness makes you soar above the sins of the past. Jesus says in the Gospel of John (8:36), “If the Son of Man makes you free, you are free indeed.” Based on this text, I can never understand some people’s understanding of purgatory as a place where souls have yet to pay for mortal sins committed in this life with so many years in purgatory in the next life. If the blood of Jesus makes you free now, you are free now.

The blood of Jesus, moreover, does something else. It creates a kingdom of priests. Having been made holy through the blood of Jesus, we can stand before God and pray. The priest stands between God and humans. The priest bears the concerns of people before God in prayer. The priest bears the concerns of God before people in good works.

Indeed the blood of Jesus made John soar like an eagle. One other thing made him soar, namely his relationship with Jesus. In 1 John 1:1-2:2, John notes that he and the other first century Christians experienced Jesus with their five senses. They heard him, saw him and touched him. After the resurrection of Jesus, John and other Christians in his generation had to forge a spiritual relationship with Jesus. It was hard to transition from a relationship based on the five senses to one centered in the heart. Recall after Jesus’ resurrection Mary Magdalene met him in the garden. Upon seeing him and being thereby overjoyed, 3 she wanted to hold onto Jesus as she had known him. Jesus said, “Don’t hold onto me, for I have not gone to my Father.” In other words, Mary, you’re going to have to know me in an altogether new mode.

It certainly was a challenge for the first generation of Christians to forge a relationship with the spiritual Christ after having known him through their five senses. But they had to, otherwise they could not do the greater works to which Jesus had called them. They could only do those greater works under the auspices of his power as the resurrected Lord in the light. The resurrected Lord in the light empowers us as it did them. As the resurrected Lord in the light, Jesus is more powerful than the darkness. When we fall into sin, Jesus overcomes the darkness of sin with light. Light, however, demands that we be truthful. We must walk in the light as he is in the light. Light is the energy that makes you soar.

If light is the energy that makes us soar, then so does love. Love is fundamental to the Gospel of John. John’s gospel is full of love, light and spirit. Pr. Greg informed me that he is doing deep reading of the Gospel of John during his battle with cancer and it has been a great source of comfort. The Gospel of John can be of profound comfort to you as well in the New Year. You can face anything in the strength and power of love.

An interesting dialogue unfolds in John 21. Jesus tells Peter to follow him. Peter looks over his shoulder and referring to John he asks, “What about him?” Jesus says, “If I want him to remain until I come, what is that to you. You follow me.” John’s remaining did not mean that he did not die as some in his community thought. I think Jesus is referring to two ministries that the church conducts. Peter follows; John remains. Peter does the work of leading the church like Jesus led it. Peter is to provide for the infrastructure of the church, the business of the church.

John does the work of the heart. The word “remain” occurs in key places throughout the Gospel of John. It first occurs when Jesus is baptized and the Holy Spirit remained on him. Later two of John the Baptist’s disciples heard John say about Jesus, “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” Those disciples followed Jesus, asking Jesus where he was remaining. Jesus invited them to come and see where he was remaining. Upon seeing it, they remained with him. Then John said, “It was the tenth hour.” In other words, all was perfect. Remaining is the place of spiritual work. It signifies the place where the mystic does the deep work of the heart in the context of love and unity. Peter, then, does the active work of leading the church. John does the equally important work of prayer and contemplation. Peter is the bishop. John is the mystic. The mystic writes of love and unity as is foundational to the Gospel of John. The mystic has visions such that you see in the Book of Revelation. The mystic is in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day. The mystic is one who deeply experiences Christ.

Inasmuch as John knows himself, inasmuch as he knows how he is gifted, he is able to soar. He is not Peter. He dare not pretend to be Peter. Peter has another set of gifts; John has his. Historically, the church has guilted people into being evangelists who may not be gifted for such a ministry. Churches have made introverts think that they have to be extroverts. Many churches have equated spiritually with talk, giving a testimony, sharing a testimony. All too often the deep work of spirituality has been neglected. This is the work to which John invites us in his gospel. If we do not do the deep work in the heart, how can we ever hear the Spirit?

We don’t know what 2021 has in store for us. These times, however, call on us to soar like an eagle, like John. Forgiveness frees you to soar; a relationship with Christ based on love and light makes you soar; and doing the work you are gifted to do also causes you to soar.

The story is told of a wealthy man who owned a large farm in India. He lived a contended life; he had everything he wanted. One day a wise man told him of the existence of diamonds.

Upon hearing such news, the wealthy man became obsessed with the idea of becoming even more wealthy. He sold his farm. He traveled the world in search of diamonds. He spent all he had on a search that proved elusive. Penniless and despondent, he drowned himself.

Meanwhile, back on the farm that the wealthy man had sold, the new owner took his camel to the garden brook to water it. While the camel was drinking, the man noticed a brightly-colored rock glinting in the water. He retrieved it from the water. He, then, took it home and placed it on the mantel. A few days later, the wise man returned to the property. Seeing the colorful rock on the mantel, he recognized it as the large diamond in the rough of which he had told the previous owner. Thus was discovered the diamond mine of Golconda. It is said that the Hope Diamond originates from this famous mine.

Rev. Russell Conwell told that story over 6,000 times in various sermons and speeches throughout America in the 19th century. He used the story to raise money to found Temple University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He challenged his audiences to seek opportunities in their present circumstances to make a difference in the world. There was no need to go on a long journey in search of opportunities to transform the world. Conwell would say dig in your own backyard.

God certainly digs in his own backyard to find diamonds in the rough. Who are the diamonds in the rough? We are. Throughout the Bible we see God working with diamonds in rough like us. Moses was certainly a diamond in the rough.

Think of the book of Deuteronomy as the last will and testament of Moses. It is beautifully written in Hebrew. It is poignant and full of feeling. Moses knows that his life is waning. He knows that it will not be him to lead his people into the Promised Land. His lieutenant, Joshua, will have that responsibility.

Yet, Moses loves his people. Like a loving father, he is concerned about their wellbeing after he is gone. As he reviews their history, Moses reminds his people that they are diamonds in the rough. Like a diamond in the earth, they experienced pressure and stress in the 40 years they traversed through the desert on the way to the Promised Land. In every pressure and stress, they experienced their God as who one loved them.

Moreover, God chose them. God sought them out to be a treasured possession. God did not choose them because they were more numerous and capable than others. God chose them because they were small and insignificant. This is a radical notion. This is how God still operates: it is the least that is the object of God’s attention and love. This signals that God never gives up on anyone, least of all sinners. God is faithful to the covenant God established with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. God is faithful to a thousand generations: a thousand means an infinite number of generations, including us engrafted into Abraham through the Messiah Jesus. We are in the rough of sin, the rough of fear and dread over death. Yet God in Christ Jesus, motivated by love, buys the field where we are diamonds in the rough. What is the price of the field? It is Christ! The life, death and resurrection is the all that the Father pays for us. Love does this. Do you see how valuable you are?

The witness of the word, furthermore, motivates the Father. The witness of the word comes through the mouths of the prophets, that God would establish a people in the promised land. God would live with that people, cry with them, shout with them, and commiserate with them. God would allow them to fall to great depths. In falling to great depths they would realize what really matters and thereby bless the world. That’s falling forward: To fall in such a way to leave open the possibility of healing and redemption. Ironically, their fall has accrued to our benefit.

On one occasion, Jesus asked disciples, “Do you understand the parables?” He would ask the same question of you. If the answer is yes, then you are like a scribe that is the master of the house who is able to bring out of the treasury of the word what is new and what is old. The scribe so knows the word that he or she can rightfully apply it to their lives. The scribe, then, is competent in the word that is a treasury of promises of things old and new. The scribe has the ability to preserve order amid change and change amid order. The old and the new are pearls of great value that enrich your life.

During this present crisis, then, what is the order in your life that you should preserve at all costs? What is the change to which you should be open? As the master of the treasury that is your soul and the word, what order does your soul need in your life? What change? You must master the word of God that you may apply it to your life in these uncertain times. The word of God is the repository of things old and new. It is the power to preserve you in Christ and drive you to change under the power of the Holy Spirit.

Pastor's Page - March 2020

Commenting on country music, Willie Nelson once said, “Country music has 3 chords and the truth.” Indeed the attraction of country music is that it tells authentic stories to which we instantaneously relate. Country music great Tim McGraw sang one such story:

He said,

“I was in my early 40s With a lot of life before me And a moment came that stopped me on a dime

I spent most of the next days Looking at the x-rays Talkin’ ‘bout sweet time.”

I asked him,

“When it sank in That this might really be the real end How’d it hit you

When you get that kind of news? Man, what’d you do?”

He said,

“I went skydiving

I went Rocky Mountain climbing

I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fumanchu

And I loved deeper

And I spoke sweeter

And I gave forgiveness I’d been denying”

And he said

“Someday I hope you get the chance

To live like you’re dying”

He said,

“I was finally the husband

That most of the time I wasn’t

And I became a friend I would like to have

And all of a sudden going fishin’

Wasn’t such an imposition

And I went three times that year I lost my dad

I finally read the Good Book, and I

Took a good, long, hard look

At what I’d do if I could do it all again

I went skydiving

I went Rocky Mountain climbing

I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fumanchu

And I loved deeper

And I spoke sweeter

And I gave forgiveness I’d been denying”

And he said

“Someday I hope you get the chance To live like you were dying.”

Why does it take a bad prognosis from an oncologist to get us to live consciously? Why does it take a tragedy to get us to place a priority on the things that truly matter? I was at a pastors’ meeting where we discussed the grim future of the church. “The church will be very different in 25 to 50 years,” we all concluded. We were not feeling very hopeful. Then one pastor piped up and said, “I wish we had another 9-11.” That’s a sobering thought.

The Lenten Season is about living like you’re dying and the enlightenment and the wisdom that come with such clarity. To live like you’re dying puts everything in proper perspective. If you live like you’re dying, then certainly three things will become immensely important now.

If you lived like you’re dying, then your relationships become important. Jesus says we are to be lights as he is the Light. He notes that one does not a ignite a lamp to place it under a bed, but one places it on a stand, so that all in the house can be illuminated. Be a light to the people in your life, especially to your family. Too often our families are veritable battle grounds of unhinged emotions. It doesn’t have to be that way, however. Just as we restrain our emotions at work, we should do the same at home. Let your words be light and life. Say today to your loved ones what you would want say to them on your death bed. We procrastinate in doing this because of two false assumptions: we think we have time; and, we let life happen to us. We’re not proactive about our time. Jilma and I attended the funeral of a family friend. At the repast, his son spoke honestly about his deceased father. Never have I witnessed such an honest, heart-wrenching eulogy. I guess it wasn’t really a eulogy. He spoke about how mean and abusive his father was to him, his brother and his mother. They witnessed how their father was celebrated by others outside the family as being a nice guy; yet, to his family, he was a terror. That has to be the height of hypocrisy: one who is more concerned about what people think of him than actually being kind and generous to his own family, where it really counts.

When you live like you’re dying, then God’s Word becomes important. Heaven and earth will pass away, but not one word of Jesus will ever pass away. As the Son of God, he is the word of the Trinity. He is the power, for by his word the universe was spawned: “Let there be light.” Indeed on your deathbed you will cling to God’s Word. I have ministered to many people on their death beds. My practice is simply to read the Word of God. I read the Psalms. I read the birth of Jesus. I read the death of Jesus. And, I read the resurrection account of Jesus. As I read, in some I have seen a smile come over their faces. On one occasion, as I read to a bedridden woman, she began to writhe back and back. She screamed and tore at the wires that connected her to the various monitors. The nurse had to give her a sedative. It was a weary sight. If the Word of God may be something to which you might cling on your death bed, then maybe it’s a good thing to familiarize yourself with it now.

One final thing becomes important when you live like you’re dying: the Righteousness of Christ. Jesus says that our righteousness has to exceed that of the Pharisees. His righteousness certainly does. Rest in the righteousness of Christ. He is your joy and satisfaction. His righteousness is the garment that covers you perfectly from sin.

The Lenten Season of the Church Year challenges your to live like you’re dying. When you live like you’re dying, your relationships become important, as do the Word of God and the righteousness of Christ.

Pastor's Page - February 2020

The story is told of a man who was eager to meet his soon-to-be son-in-law. His daughter had gotten engaged unexpectedly. The eager man told all his friends at work that he had a whole list of questions to ask the young man. On Saturday morning after meeting for the first time, the man invited his daughter’s fiancé out for a cup of coffee. As they began to talk, the father asked questions that were weighing heavily on his mind. “Do you have a job? I know you just finished college and all, but how do plan to support yourself and my daughter?” The young man responded, “Well, God will provide.”

The father then asked his second question: “Where do you intend to live? Do you have a house or an apartment all lined up?” The young man said with much conviction, “God will provide.” The father waited a few moments before asking his third question. “Son, do you have any money? Any savings? Anything put aside?” The young man looked his future father-in-law right in the eyes and said, “God will provide.”

The following Monday at work, the man’s friends were eager to know how his meeting with his future son-in-law went. The man smiled and said, “I kinda like the kid. He thinks I’m God.”

Can we, like that young man, believe that God will provide for all our needs? Such a faith is an antidote to the worry that wreaks havoc in our bodies. Faith, moreover, is not directed toward what you can do. Money in the bank does not prove you have faith; it shows you have discipline and wisdom. There are a lot of people who don’t care a whit about God who have garnered great wealth through the application of discipline and wisdom. Bennie Hinn, a prosperity preacher who was big in the 90s, has decided no longer to equate the gospel with prosperity. He regrets the many years that he deceived people with the idea that God wants to make them rich when they give their tithes and offerings to his ministry. Through that deception he enriched himself. But, he has been convicted. He wants to preach a faith that is directed to the big things. Money and wealth are not the big things of life.

Faith must be directed to the impossible things that God challenges us to do. For such things, the appropriate prayer is: “Lord, increase our faith.” What are the big things that are the proper objects of faith for which we need an increase in faith? We need an increase in faith when God is silent. The prophet Habakkuk had a problem with the silence of God in the face of evil. He says in his book, “How long must I cry for help and you don’t hear? I cry violence, and you do not save.” Habakkuk witnessed the destruction of Jerusalem at the hands of the Babylonians. He saw unthinkable horror: the rape of women, the slaughter of children, the maiming of the innocent. It’s impossible to believe in God in such circumstances. No Sunday school faith will answer the painful question of the silence of God amid evil. Many surrender faith because they cannot square a loving, all-powerful God who allows evil to run rough shod over the weak. A member of our congregation had a conversation with his son about this very issue. His son said it is hard to believe in a God who is silent in the face of evil. “Look at all the evil!” He said. “How can I believe in God?” His father responded, “Look at all the good despite the evil.” The silence of God demands an increase in faith. Habakkuk has such an increase when he goes to stand in his fortress. There he will wait and hear what God tells him. His fortress is his prayer and reading of God’s word. He will engage those until his faith is increased to deal with the silence of God. Indeed, an abundance of good comes to those who wait and pray.

We need an increase of faith to drive out fear. Power comes from self mastery. This is the lesson that Paul teaches the young pastor Timothy. “God did not give us a spirit of fear but of power and self control,” he writes to Timothy. Self mastery needs an increase in faith, because the most difficult battle is with one’s self. Anyone who takes Christ seriously enough to pray on a regular basis knows this. When the self is not mastered, there is fear. When the self is mastered there is more freedom, the power to love. “I never knew there was so much power in telling myself ‘no’” a recovering addict told me. “I thought my power was doing my own thing without anyone’s constraints or restraints. I discovered there is no real power and freedom in that.” Why did Paul emphasize mastery over fear to Timothy? Unlike Paul, Timothy was not a man of the streets. He was not like the rough and tumble Paul who had to be knocked off his high horse on the road to Damascus. Timothy was quiet and unassuming. The quiet and unassuming, we think, are beset by fear and diffidence. They are wary about breaking the rules, violating traditions. Paul had no such concern. Fear had so beset Timothy that he had stomach problems. Paul, accordingly, recommends that Timothy drink a little wine to calm the anxiety. Most of us are like Timothy: we were nurtured in the faith. Fear is our constant companion. We are not bold like Paul; we are cautious like Timothy. But, in this postmodern world people prefer cautious and an easy hand. A bold Paul is not heard. It is the easy, pastoral approach of Timothy that speaks today. It is the loving, mystical John who speaks today. We, like Timothy, need an increase in faith to overcome our fear and realize that we are gifted for such a time as this. 

Finally, we need an increase in faith to forgive. Forgiveness must be a hard thing to do because many don’t forgive. In community, we hurt each other. That is inevitable. Hurt is going to happen, because temptations to sin are sure to come, as Jesus tells us. But, woe to the person through whom sin happens. It would be better if a millstone were hung around his neck. Jesus’ conclusion: “Pay attention to yourself.” Pay attention to how you treat people. Pay attention to how you talk to people, especially the people from whom you expect nothing. Yet, what keeps the community alive and vibrant is forgiveness. If your brother or sister sins against you and asks for forgiveness, forgive. That takes an increase in faith to do, which Jesus is glad to give you through Word and Sacrament.

It had to pain your heart to hear the tragic story of the Dallas, Texas police woman, Amber Guyger. Guyger entered a man’s apartment and killed him. Being overworked and tired, she thought she was in her own apartment. She was in the wrong apartment and killed the occupant of the apartment because she thought he was an intruder. This story is one of those complicated situations that needs the wisdom of Solomon. At the sentencing, the brother of the man shot dead said that he had forgiven the erstwhile police woman. He didn’t want her to get any jail time, in fact. As a sign of his peace and forgiveness, he asked to give her a hug. After handing down a 10-year sentence to Amber, following the example of the brother of the victim, the judge came down from the bench and hugged her as well. That’s the power of forgiveness. It calls forth our better angels.

We ask the Lord to increase our faith when God is silent. We ask the Lord to increase our faith in our battle with ourselves. We ask the Lord to increase our faith to forgive and move on. The Lenten Season of the Church Year, which begins on Ash Wednesday, is a most propitious time to ask for an increase in faith. Lent is an old Anglo Saxon word meaning “to increase, to lengthen.” With the coming of spring, there is an increase in warmth in longer days. During Lent, let us pray, “Lord, increase our faith.”

Pastor's Page - January 2020

The story is told of a woman who went to a psychiatrist complaining of anxiety. She said, “Every time I lay down on my bed I get this terrible fear that there is something underneath the bed.”

“Wow,” responded the psychiatrist. “I’ve never heard of such a phobia. But, like all phobias it can be treated. It will take 20 sessions.”

“OK,” responded the woman. “How much is each session?”

The doctor responded, “It’s just $150 dollars a session. Trust me: it is well worth it.”

When the woman didn’t return to the psychiatrist, he gave her a call. The doctor asked, “How come I didn’t hear from you. I thought you were willing and eager to tackle your anxiety?”

“Well,” responded the woman, “When I came home and told my husband about the cost of the therapy, he thought we could save money. He just cut the legs off the bed.”

Would to God that anxiety could be treated so easily. In our nation anxiety is out of control, especially among the youth. The New York Times recently reported on a Pew Research Poll that found that 70% of teenagers surveyed cited mental health concerns as their major challenge. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recently reported that the suicide rate is at the highest level since World War II. Hopelessness among the young is especially troubling. In an era of unprecedented prosperity and opportunity, people’s happiness and well-being are certainly not commensurate with that prosperity.

It is always risky to ferret out one factor of human behavior and make it the all-controlling factor over others. Anxiety, nevertheless, has always been a problem. We are born into it and we live in it. We enter another year, 2020, the year of clarity Pastor Greg said in his sermon on the First Sunday after Christmas. The clarity we seek is how to cope with anxiety. Here’s clarity: God is the antidote for anxiety.

Anxiety is a byproduct of being human. You sometimes have a gnawing feeling that you’re not right. You’re preoccupied. You’re not all there. If you have felt that way, then you’re in good company. That is how Moses felt. He had another vision of his life: it was life in the power center of Egypt, in the lap of luxury. Fleeing Egypt after killing an Egyptian who mistreated a Jewish slave, Moses landed in the desert of Media. There he tends sheep. That is a boring and monotonous job for a man with his skill set spawned in the high culture of Egypt. He is a fraction of the man he used to be. All that is left is his doubts and fears. Yet, amid his doubts and fears, the Lord reveals himself to Moses in the burning bush. The Lord tells him that he has heard the cries of his people in slavery. God is ready to do  something about it. God is ready to send Moses to stand before Pharaoh to release his people. Moses’ response reveals the profound doubt that he has about himself: “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh?” Later Moses proffers one excuse after another why he is not equipped to do what the Lord asks. God’s response to Moses: “I shall be with you.” And, “This is my name: I am who I am.” That response says it all: the antidote to the generalized, personal anxiety that plagues us all is that God is with us. His revelation is his power, for the revelation of his word is the vehicle of his presence among us. Moses was to take the name of God in his confrontation with Pharaoh. That name quelled his anxiety, enabling him to be stand boldly before the Egyptian king. We carry that same name with us when we cross ourselves. Before an anxiety-provoking meeting at work, cross yourself in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. When visiting a loved one in the hospital, cross yourself. The name invites the reality of God which quells the anxiety.

Anxiety, moreover, is not only the personal variety that gets generated as we face the challenges of life. Death is also a source of anxiety. We can accept the fact that we shall die. However, apropos to the anxiety produced by any discussion of death is how and when we die. We when I was a boy, I recall telling my mother I wanted to die before her because I couldn’t bear the thought of her dying before me and having to live without her. She corrected me on that. She said that nothing is more painful to a mother than having her children die before her. Dying out of order is painful. The ancients thought of it as a cursed circumstance. Like all humans, the Sadducees in Jesus’ day had anxiety about death. But, they refused to see the solution in the resurrection. They could not believe in a living God who was active in bringing life from death.

The resurrection life of which Jesus speaks is not like this life. If you understand the next life as an extension of this life, then there will be anxiety, for the conditions of this life conspire to produce anxiety. It is never comforting to me at a funeral to hear people extrapolate from what a deceased loved one enjoyed in this life and suggest that is what that deceased loved one is doing now: “He is playing golf in heaven.” The resurrected life is radically different. We really have no way to talk about it except to say that Jesus defeated sin, death and the devil and has thereby granted us entrance into the next life, where we shall be like the angels who cannot die. Who are considered worthy to attain the resurrected life? Those born of God. You have been born of God through water and Spirit; therefore, you are God’s child. Loving parents take care of their children. God cannot do any less than the most exemplary parent. Child of God, your spiritual birth in the waters of Baptism quells anxiety about death.

Finally, talk of the end of the world provokes anxiety. According to some politicians, there are 12 years left on earth if we don’t radically alter how we live, radically cut carbon emissions. Indeed the world is a finite quantity. It will end. The issue is when. Nobody knows, least of all pecuniary-compromised politicians. In Second Thessalonians, Paul speaks of the lawless one who exalts himself above God.

Paul’s image of the end is certainly anxiety-provoking. Yet, in another breath he speaks about always giving thanks for having been chosen the first fruits of those to be saved. Jesus saves us, comforts our hearts and establishes them. Jesus saves, comforts establishes us in the Eucharist, the viaticum for the anxious journey of life that we’re on. The Eucharist is the thanksgiving feast through which we thank God for Jesus’ victory over sin, death and the devil. When we partake of the Eucharist, we share in that victory. The only response is gratitude. Gratitude is a powerful thing. An article in the Harvard Medical Journal notes, “Gratitude is strongly and consistently associated with greater happiness. Gratitude helps people feel more positive emotions, relish good experiences, improve their health and deal with adversity.” Everything we do in worship is in gratitude to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The feast of thanksgiving culminates in the Eucharist, the tangible antidote to anxiety.

There is your clarity for 2020. There is the antidote to anxiety that is bound to come in 2020: 1) it is saying the name of God over yourself by crossing yourself (Word); 2) it is remembering your Baptism through which you have been born of God; and 3) it is partaking of the Eucharist, the feast of thanksgiving that makes you happy.

Pastor's Page - December 2019

A wise person once said, “If our greatest need had been information, then God would have sent us a teacher. If our greatest need had been technology, then God would have sent us a scientist. If our greatest need had been money, then God would have sent us an economist. If our greatest need had been pleasure, then God would have sent us an entertainer. But, our greatest need was forgiveness; so, God sent us a savior.”

The words of the angel Gabriel to Joseph concerning the Christ Child come to mind, “His name will be Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” That is the message of Christmas. And, that is a message for all people.

I have a friend who has gotten on a kick of referring to Jesus as Yeshua. He no longer refers to our Lord by his Greek name (Jesus), but his Hebrew name (Yeshua). He is convinced that everybody in Jesus’ day referred to him as Yeshua. He thinks that the name Jesus is the product of Greek imperialism and hatred toward Jewish people. The reality is that Jesus lived in a bilingual world, actually a multilingual one. In Jesus’ Palestine, Hebrew would have been used as a liturgical language in the context of worship. Aramaic would have been the everyday language and several folks would have had some facility in Greek and Latin. Jesus would have been comfortable with both his Greek name as well as his Hebrew one. Indeed one can refer to Jesus as Yeshua or “Joshua,” which is what both the Greek Jesus and the Hebrew Yeshua mean. The point is that Jesus is a savior for all people, for the Jew and the Greek, the Roman and the German, the African and the Persian. Indeed wherever the Gospel has gone into the world, people have transliterated Jesus’ name into their languages, tweaking it for their linguistic comfort. All this expresses the universality of the Gospel: Jesus is the Father’s gift of forgiveness of sins for all humanity. “He will save his people from their sins.”

Forgiveness is our greatest need. We tend to make other things our greatest need: finances, love, communication or professional enrichment. Those things are important in the pantheon of being human; there is, however, a hierarchy of needs, and forgiveness is at the top. And, if anything other than forgiveness becomes our greatest need that God addresses, then that changes the nature of theology, the church, and the nature of worship. More importantly, the need for forgiveness is a need that all humans share despite their varied circumstances, and that need has eternal ramifications, for through forgiveness we are brought into a loving relationship with God.

Today, we hear sermons about time management or some other modern and postmodern quandary perceived to be our most felt need. God the Father, however, knows best. God knows what trips us up in life, namely sin. It would be the height of absurdity for God to deal with anything other than sin, death and the devil, spiritual realities over which we have no power. Being incompetent in your career will not damn you. The mismanagement of time and money will not damn you. That being the case, the ultimate purpose of worship, then, is the context wherein to meet your savior from sin, death and the devil in Word and Sacrament. Worship is not free therapy. It is not a session on life enhancement. It is place where Jesus meets you to heal, forgive and empower you through the Holy Spirit in God’s chosen media of Word and Sacrament.

We are entering the season of worship with Advent and Christmas. Once again, we shall sing with the angels, Gloria Deo in Excelsis, “Glory to God in the highest.” Indeed glory to God in the highest, for God has done the unfathomable: God has become one of us. In the Christ Child we have a savior who has accomplished wonderful things for us. “For unto us is born this day in the city of David a savior, who is Christ the king.”

Pastor's page November 2019

War is hell!” General William Sherman said that during the American Civil War. In making that statement, General Sherman may have referred to war generally. Or, he may have referred to trench warfare specifically. Trench warfare is a military tactic traceable to the American Civil War. During World War I, moreover, trench warfare was common on the Western Front. The land between the trench lines was called “no man’s land.” In describing “no man’s land,” Wilfred Owen, an English poet and soldier during World War I, said: “No man’s land is like the face of the moon: chaotic, crater-ridden, awful, the abode of madness.”

The in-between spaces of life are like no man’s land. The in-between spaces of life are fraught with anxiety. What are the in-between spaces of life? It is one phase of your life ending and another beginning. In that transition, you have the feeling of being neither here nor there. The place from which you came is familiar; the place to which you are going is unfamiliar. Anxiety, fear and doubt accompany you along the way. Maybe your in-between space is an illness. Before the illness, you had health and vitality. Now, however, you are entering a phase of diminished physical capacity. You are uncertain. You are vulnerable in the in-between spaces of life.

Throughout the Bible, of course, there were many people in the in-between spaces of life, in the haunting place of no man’s land. What wisdom can they convey to us as we find ourselves in the in the in-between spaces of life?

When he wrote his first letter to the young pastor, Timothy, Paul was in the consummate in-between space: he was in prison. Yet, he writes his companion Timothy to encourage him in ministry. There is no self pity in him. Paul tells Timothy no soldier gets caught up in civilian matters. His focus is on the battle that he wages. In that battle, there are casualties. The demonic attacks. They use depression to discourage. Some get martyred. Some get thrown into jail.

Amid it all, moreover, Timothy is to remember Christ Jesus risen from the dead. Jesus is proof that that God is faithful. In the in-between spaces we prove to be all too human. We prove faithless. God, however, is faithful! In the in-between spaces know and trust that God is faithful. God sustains you. God will work the good even in the in-between spaces of life. In fact, the in-between spaces may invite you to reflect on where you have been and where you are going. As you reflect on where you have been, you can see that God has been faithful. If God is faithful in the past, then God will be faithful in the future, for Jesus Christ is the same today, yesterday and forever. Hence, the in-between spaces need not spook us. They invite us to be open to the new thing God is about to do in our lives.

Luke 17:11 notes that Jesus was walking between Samaria and Galilee. He was in no man’s land. The inhabitants of no man’s land were lepers. They were discarded to the periphery. However, in their darkness they ask Jesus to heal them: “Jesus, master, have mercy on us!” As lepers they were forced to live in the in-between space of darkness. It is in those very dark crevices of forgotten and neglected space that Jesus as light of the world deigns to enter. The priests never went there, as the story of the man who fell among robbers along the road to Jericho illustrates. Jesus tells them, “Go show yourself to the priests!” The word of Jesus is powerful. It penetrates the no man’s land of leprosy.

In-between spaces can be isolated. The healing word of Jesus penetrates those spaces. We get ourselves into in-between spaces of sin. We become impure in our isolation. We cry out in repentance: “Jesus, have mercy on me!” Blessed are those who mourn. Such a cry Jesus will not ignore. No in-between space is beyond the reach of Jesus. You are not by yourself in your in-between space.

One final person in an in-between space of life was Naomi. The book of Ruth relates her story. Naomi was in the in-between space of widowhood, poverty and migrancy. Her life was ripped from under her. First her husband died. Then her two sons married Moabite women. That was highly offensive, as offensive as blacks and whites marrying in the 50s and 60s. She had to be displeased with her sons’ choices of brides. Then they died. She is left alone with the Moabite wives of her sons. She tells them to return to their own people. But, one refused to abandon her. That was Ruth, who would become the grandmother of King David.

Ruth clung (Hebrew: davca) to Naomi. That is a rich word in Hebrew. Historically, Jewish mystics have used it to describe the mystic clinging to God at every moment of her and his life, so that they know that they know that they know that God is their refuge and strength. Like Ruth, in the in-between spaces we have to cling to God, for God is the faithful one who will never let us go.

In the in-between spaces, moreover, we need to cling to others in community. Ruth and Naomi formed an indissoluble community. Hence, they were of profound comfort to each other in their mutual crises. When in the in-between space of life, cling to others in the community of Christ. The church is not merely a social organization; it is the place of the mystical union of Christ with his body, the church. Christ promised to be present where two or more are gathered in his name. The church that signs itself with sign of the cross, hears Christ’s word and partakes of his body and blood in the Eucharist is a divine institution; it is a holy place. All the church’s faults are overwhelmed by the love of God in Christ Jesus, for the church has been bedraggled with the love of God in Christ Jesus. The love of God and the wisdom of God seep out from us all too flawed human members of the church. This love and wisdom are worth clinging to in your in-between spaces of life.

The story is told of a troubled man. He approached a wise man saying, “I’m distraught. I feel lost. I don’t know who I am. Can you please show me my true self?” But, the wise man looked away without responding. Then, the man began to plead, to beg even. Still, the wise man gave him no answer, once again turning his head away from the man. Finally, giving up in frustration, the desperate man turned to leave. As the man was leaving the wise man called out his name. “Yes,” responded the man.

The wise man said, “There it is. There’s your true self.”

The moral of the story: paradoxically, the true self is found by giving up the search for it. There is no perfect self waiting to be had if you would try hard enough to find it. Ironically, the search for the true self leads to the false self. I remember in high school a friend and I prepared to go to a party. We talked about how we would be at the party. We talked about the attitude we would have toward certain people, how we would act. “I’m just going to be me; I’m going to be cool, laid back,” he said. I agreed. It goes without saying that we didn’t enjoy the party because we were in our heads. Because we were in our heads, we missed out on what the occasion was offering.

The false self is the fictive world we create about ourselves. It is ego. The false self is our self-created devices to earn people’s Iove and admiration. We use this same modus operandi on God, attempting to earn God’s love and admiration. This is a futile attempt. We must die to ego. Jesus puts it in very stark terms when says we must hate our father, mother, brother, sister, even our own life. We must die to the fictive world of the ego. The real you is what finds you. It is Christ in you. When Christ finds you, your true self, then there are some things you learn.

First, you learn that “God is your life and length of days,” as Moses says in Deuteronomy 30:20. You become keenly aware that your life is dependent on God. You come to understand that your life is not merely your own. You come to understand that all possibilities for life come from God. On the contrary, the ego is self-centered; better yet, it thinks it is self-generated. If one’s life is self-generated, then there is no sense of connectivity to others, least of all to God, whom we cannot see.

Second, when your true self in Christ finds you, you learn to live consciously. You become keenly aware of every moment of your life. If you want to lengthen your sense of life, then become conscious and aware. In Luke 14:27, Jesus demands that we pick our cross and follow him. That is the cost of discipleship. Then our Lord goes on to explain what builder does not first weigh the cost and the supplies needed before building? Or, what general will not first sit down and strategize how to face an invading army? Accordingly, those who follow Jesus must be keenly aware and conscious of their discipleship. Bearing the cross is to be profoundly aware and conscious. Why? The cross brings pain. Pain makes you profoundly aware. What is the pain that makes us profoundly aware? It is the paradox of being both saint and sinner. It is the paradox of being flesh and spirit. Life under the cross is living with this paradox. The pain that this paradox produces never goes away in this life. It impels us to seek solace and rest in Christ. Pain hitches us to Christ. The devil’s play house is unconscious living. At the core of any addiction is unconscious living; it is the attempt to forget pain brought on by the anxiety of life.

Finally, when your true self in Christ finds you, you learn that appeals motivate you, not commands. Paul told Philemon he had the authority to command him that he give up his slave Onesimus to him. Instead, he appeals to him. He appeals to his heart, knowing that he will do the right thing because his heart is rightly motivated.

I remember a phrase in the 70s that went like this: half of Americans would fare better in the Soviet Union in tyranny because they don’t appreciate the freedom that they have. And, half of the subjects of the Soviet Union would fare better in America because under tyranny, they have come to appreciate freedom. That logic can be applied to Christians. Many Christians have no idea what freedom in Christ is. Some cynically know that pastors cannot command them to do anything. So, they don’t lift a finger to help the church; they constantly take, never considering that they ought to give back in thanksgiving what they have received. Your true self in Christ cannot live with that limited, cynical logic. The true self gives and receives. Indeed to always give and never receive is masochism. To always receive and never give is sadism. Your true self in Christ is not satisfied with that option.

At Crossroads Retreat Ministry, we have a banner that reads: “Lord, teach me to receive, because you teaching someone to give.” Give up the search for your true self! Christ, your true self, has found you. Will you now pick your cross and follow him to the abundant life that he so desires for you to experience?

Emily Dickinson, the great American 19th-century poet, paid an homage to the moon with the following words:

The moon is distant from the sea,

And yet, with amber hands,

She leads him, docile as a boy,

Along appointed sands.

He never misses a degree;

Obedient to her eye,

He comes just so far toward the town,

Just so far— goes away.

Oh, Signor, thine the amber hand,

And mine the distant sea,

Obedient to the least command

Thine eyes impose on me.

The moon has been a source of wonder ever since our ancestors first gazed at it. They crafted poetry and stories about the moon. They based calendars on the moon’s rotation. 50 years ago on July 20, the world held its collective breath at the vision of men in space suits walking on the surface of the moon. Occurring at the end of the turbulent 60’s, the walk on the moon could not have happened at a better time. The walk on the moon provided a telling metaphor. We were invited to look up from the chaotic 1960s to a transcendent hope. From the perspective of the moon, the political and social strife of the 60s seemed small.

Throughout the Bible, amid trying circumstances, the people of faith looked up to God. The psalmist prays: “I look up to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord.” In Psalm 3, the psalmist calls God a shield, “the lifted of my head.” John says in the book of Revelation, “I looked up. Behold a door was standing open in heaven.” Like the psalmist and John, keep your head up. From the perspective of a raised head to heaven, to God, problems seem to diminish.

Abraham did something risky in his day. Following the revelation of God, he left his tribe in Mesopotamia. He left what was familiar to him and Sarah. People in those days did not do what Abraham did: they did not leave home and family. But, faith compelled him to leave. He believed that God would make him and descendants into a great nation. He packed up his possessions and followed God’s lead. Can you imagine the conversation between him and Sarah as he proposed to her that they would leave? “You heard God say what? You want to take us away from our friends and family to go where? Are you crazy?!”

They left. Many years came and went. They were still roaming. They had not found a permanent land. They had no child. You better know that Sarah reminded Abraham of his so-called vision that was yet unfulfilled in their old age. All the productive years of their youth were slain at the altar of this vision. The vision placed them in stressful situations from which they had to lie to escape. The vision was paid for by Sarah’s fertility. When women are stressed, they become less fertile. How did God encourage Abraham amid the delays? On one occasion God took Abraham outside in the night and invited him to look up at the night sky. “As numerous as the stars, so shall your descendants be.” On another occasion Abraham was at the Oaks of Mamre. The Oaks of Mamre were a sacred place. Abraham was in prayer in a sacred place. He was constantly in prayer given the precipice along which he walked. During prayer, Abraham looked up. . . He looked up. . .He looked up. He looked up and saw three men. They were God. In the presence of God, he wants to serve God. Abraham shows hospitality to God. He cares for the three men. He sets water before them to wash their feet. He sets food before them. The point of story: God says next year Sarah would have a baby.

Keep your head up? Like Abraham, go the sacred place to meet God. Where is the sacred place? It is the Eucharist. The Eucharist , in fact, begins with a dialogue. The celebrant says, “The Lord be with you.” The congregation responds, “And also with you.” The celebrant says, “Lift up your hearts.” The congregation responds, “We lift them up to the Lord.” You are lifting your heart to the Lord who is present in the Eucharist. All troubling circumstances of your life diminish in the presence of Christ at the Eucharist. From the perspective of Christ the King, all problems seem small. That is a lesson Martha, the sister of Mary and Lazarus, had to learn.

Recall that Jesus attended a dinner at his good friends’ home. Their home was his place of rest. As Martha labored in the kitchen, Mary sat the feet of Jesus, soaking up the wisdom that fell from his holy, mellifluous mouth. Martha was troubled by the fact she was left alone to do the work. She complains to Jesus. Jesus responds, “Martha, Martha, you are troubled about many things.” It wasn’t being alone in the kitchen that troubled her. She was already anxious and troubled about many things. Being anxious and troubled was her disposition. Martha, then, lived life with her head down. The circumstances of life controlled her. She chose to do things complaining. She did everything that way. She was one of those who lost sight of the forest because the trees. She was spooked about everything. She forgot whom she was serving. The details of dinner so swamped her that she was not mindful of whom she was serving. That was how she approached everything. She was the consummate drama queen.

Keep your head up! It makes you mindful. The key to more joy in life is to be fully present to what you are doing; yet, you are not fixated on it, attached to it, defining yourself by a single experience.

Paul had an amazing ability to keep his head up. Through his many toils for the sake of the gospel, he never lost sight of the big picture: to promulgate the word of Christ among Gentiles so that they become mature in Christ. Paul suffered imprisonment, beatings and sufferings to mature the body of Christ. He understood that his sufferings were of redemptive value. That is what hope works. What’s big picture of hope in your life? You will live. Through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, you will experience grace to grace, glory to glory. Your life will end well and continue beyond its terminal point on earth.

When I was a little boy, I had the idea that the crescent moon was the tip of finger nail of God. I thought that it was always pointing in the right direction. I figured that if I followed the fingernail of God, I would always go in the right direction. A child’s fancy became a lifelong reminder. To this day, I look up at the moon. When it is a crescent moon, I think, “The finger nail of God.” But, now I know it is a metaphor. It is a symbol. Because now I know that God’s finger is in my heart. It is not out there. It is in me. I am invited to lift up my heart to where Christ Jesus is seated in power. When I do so, I shall go in the right direction. Keep your head up!

There is an African parable about an eagle who thought he was a chicken. As the story goes, when the eagle was an eaglet, he fell from the safety of his nest. A chicken farmer found the eaglet. He brought him to his farm. He raised him in a chicken coop among other chickens. The eaglet grew up doing what chickens do: he pecked about on the ground. The eagle became renowned in those parts: he was an eagle who acted like a chicken.

A scientist, an ornithologist to be exact, came to the chicken farm to see for himself what he had heard about the eagle who acted like a chicken. As an expert on birds, the ornithologist knew that the eagle was the king of the sky. Yet, when he saw the eagle strutting around the chicken coop pecking at the ground, he was amused. The farmer explained to the scientist that the eagle was no longer an eagle. He was a chicken. “He has lived among chickens and has been raised to believe he is a chicken,” said the farmer.

The ornithologist knew there was more to this great bird than the possibilities inherent in the chicken coop. He was born an eagle; therefore, he had the heart of an eagle. The ornithologist took the great bird and set him on the fence surrounding the chicken coop. He said: “Eagle, you are an eagle! Stretch forth your wings and fly!” The eagle moved slightly. He looked at the man. He, then, glanced down at his home among the chickens. It was there he was comfortable, as it was familiar. He jumped off the fence and pecked at the ground like the other chickens. The farmer responded, “I told you he was a chicken.”

The next day the ornithologist took the eagle atop the farm house. Once again he said, “You are not a chicken. You belong to the sky, not the earth! Stretch forth your wings and fly!” Again the giant bird looked at the man. He then looked down at the chicken coop. He, then, jumped from the man’s arm to the chicken coop below. The farmer smiled contentedly.

The next day the ornithologist took the eagle and the farmer to the foot of the mountain. They could not see the farm or the chicken coop. The ornithologist held the eagle on his arm. He pointed high into the sky where the bright sun was beckoning. The scientist shouted: “You belong to the sky, not the earth. Stretch forth your wings and fly!” The eagle stared upward. He straightened his large body. He stretched out his massive wings. With the mighty screech of an eagle, he flew.

That parable was told in colonial Africa to inspire Africans to decolonize their minds, to cleanse their minds of the negative images of themselves that the European colonizers foisted onto them as a justification to take their land. African indigenous, Christians had to hear that they were more than what their colonizers defined them to be. Christianity, in fact, is spreading like a wild fire all across Africa as Africans discover their true image of God in Christ. The largest Christian churches are now in Africa. The largest Lutheran churches are not in Germany or America; they are in Africa. As the West gives up on its faith, Africa has taken it up and is thriving. As they come into who they really are in Christ, African Christians are full of joy. Their material circumstances are meager, but their joy is full. Their joy is their power. There is no greater joy than coming into who you really are in Christ. Why peck like a Chicken when you can soar like an Eagle?

Jesus is the joymaker. As the joymaker, Jesus empowers you to be who you really are. There is no greater joy than being who you really are. Jesus takes you out of chicken circumstances and empowers you to soar to great spiritual heights. How?

Jesus says in the Gospel of John that his disciples had not asked anything in his name. Why? They did not know the power in Jesus’ name. In order to come to know the power in Jesus’ name, they had to get into circumstances where they would learn the power of Jesus’ name for themselves. As long they have Jesus in their midst, they would rely on him. To the extent that they did, they did not grow. Their life circumstances would expose their nature. Their life circumstances exposed fear and trembling, doubt. Their circumstances exposed the fundamental anxiety that we all struggle with. Amid those circumstances would they run and hide, cowered by fear? Or, would the circumstances impel them to pray in Jesus’ name. At the beginning of

each worship service, we cross ourselves in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy. That name of God invites the reality of God. The reality of God comes with the name. Sometimes, you have no words in given circumstance. It is best to cross yourself inviting God to give you wisdom, lucidity, enlightenment. Luther commented what imminent dangers he avoided by crossing himself. The disciples would be cast into darkness. They would learn to pray in Jesus’ name. That is joy.

Jesus answers prayer in his name. He answers such prayer to give us joy, not just joy, but complete joy. Complete joy is joy for the moment. My Ph.D. graduation last month was festive, colorful, very moving. Everyone was given a program that shared the biographies about the speakers. They shared information about the graduates: their previous degrees, etc. Instead of being in the moment, I found myself reading the bio of the speakers while they spoke. Throughout the ceremony, my colleague in Hebrew Bible also gave his full attention to the program. He had his head down, engrossed in the program. When I glanced at him, I said to myself, “Enough of this madness! Enjoy the moment!”

The complete joy that Jesus is talking about is full joy for the moment, not joy for tomorrow, not joy from yesterday, but joy for the moment. It was like the manna with which God fed the Israelites. It was food for the moment. The manna was not to be stored; when they did store it, it spoiled. God is a God of the moment, right now. There is no such thing as getting enough grace to sustain you for some amount of time that you designate. You cannot store up grace to such an extent that you can forego Word and Sacrament for a stipulated amount of time. You constantly need grace when it offered. “Give us this day, our daily bread.” Amid the anxiety of life there is a complete joy, a full joy.

Jesus, the joymaker, would enable the disciples to know the Father for themselves. Jesus derives great joy when we come to know his Father as he knows him. Jesus’ purpose was to introduce us to his Father. The Father loves he told Nicodemus. The Father is Spirit he told the Samaritan woman at the well. We are born of the Father; we become spirits like him. What does that mean? We have a future. We shall live. There are pockets of spiritual light in us that darkness cannot comprehend. If we have a secure future, then we can die with confidence. We can surrender ourselves to God in life and in death. We can get to the place where we are above it all, soaring with eagles. John’s Gospel is symbolized by the eagle. We spiritually soar.

Are you in chicken circumstances? Are you pecking at the ground seeking a mere pittance of food? If you do not pray in the name of Jesus, then you are in chicken circumstances. If you do not know your spiritual nature that enables you to soar above sin, death and the devil, then you are in chicken circumstances. If you are ignorant of power of prayer, the power in the name of Jesus, then you are in chicken circumstances. There is no joy in being in chicken circumstances because you are more. You are to soar like an eagle. Jesus, the joymaker, empowers you to soar. With Christ soar above sin; soar above the death; soar about the devil. You are an eagle. There is your joy.

Will Rogers, the American actor and humorist, once said: “If you ever injected truth into politics you would have no politics.” The political landscape is rife with promises made but not kept. In 1916, two years after Europe was engulfed in World War I, President Woodrow Wilson ran for re-election promising he would keep America out of Europe’s war with itself. 34 days into his second term, Wilson signed a declaration of war against Germany.

While campaigning in 1964, President Lyndon Johnson promised: “We are not about to send American boys 10,000 miles away from home to do what Asian boys should do for themselves.” Two months after Johnson was sworn into his second term, 3,500 troops landed in Danang, Vietnam. Three years later over half a million troops were stationed in Vietnam.

Little wonder we are cynical about politicians and the whole business of politics. Too often promises are made only to be broken. Broken promises, however, have proven very costly.

Recently, I met with four Lutheran pastors from another denomination. We got into a conversation about how to inject politics into sermons. We discussed whether pastors should shy away from being political and taking political stances in sermons. They wanted to take a political stance about the immigration issue because their colleague, a Lutheran pastor was arrested and detained by ICE, Immigration and Customs Enforcement. They were troubled by the ignominious way she was taken out of her home in pajamas before her screaming children. Apparently, she was brought to America as a child. She got educated, eventually attended seminary and got ordained. They were troubled by their colleague’s treatment. Yet, they felt taking a political stance would cause divisions in their congregations, but they felt impelled to say something nevertheless.

Though politics can feel like a cynical game, politics has real-life consequences. People get hurt; people lose their livelihoods and lives. Politics indeed is a matter of life and death; therefore, it should be taken seriously. Truth is at the center of whatever we take seriously.

We take the promises of God seriously because they are grounded in truth and they are of eternal validity. You can trust the promises of God, because God cannot lie or deceive. The truth of God is grounded in the life, death and resurrection of Christ. The resurrection of Christ is the clarion call that whatever he promises, he fulfills. A promise from the mouth of a politician is untrustworthy. A promise from the mouth of Jesus is most trustworthy. What is the promise Jesus gives? It is the Holy Spirit.

As a congregation gathered around Word and Sacrament, we need the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is the continuing voice of Jesus.

Jesus told his disciples that he had many things to tell them, but they could not bear what he had to say. Accordingly, like any good teacher his teaching method was process oriented. He dispenses wisdom and insight when his disciples are ready. When they prove themselves faithful in the smaller things, Jesus gives them bigger things. The Spirit would lead them and guide them to the bigger things, the greater things of enlightenment. Their office, a divine office, is blessed and empowered by the Spirit. As they engaged their work, they had access to power through the Holy Spirit. I recall a church that interviewed pastoral candidates. They asked about the quality of the prayer life of the pastors they wanted to call. They wanted to know how much time they spent in the word for their own spiritual edification. They wanted to know the amount of time they spent in prayer. Some of pastors they interviewed were taken aback by such an intimate question. But, the church wanted to know how they cared for themselves, how did they get power to do the job, how they got enlightenment. They knew that the pastoral office was a divine office imbued with power from the Spirit. And, for that reason, it was attacked, at the frontline of spiritual warfare. They wanted to know whether the pastor they called was getting access to the power to pastor. It was a totally legitimate investigation on the part of the congregation.

Not only pastors, but you also have a need for the continuing voice of the Holy Spirit, to which you have access through the word and prayer. When the word is confirmed by your heart through the unction of the Spirit it has real power. When you hear something down in the heart, you move; your total being gets enlisted to move. Just because you can play the notes does mean you can make music. You make music when your skill is so developed that you feel the notes and then interpret them with your total being. My brother’s cello playing used to fascinate me. I knew he was making music when he moved his hands vigorously and moved his body to the music. The music had so captivated him that he moved his body to and fro. Watching his physicality while playing was as compelling as the music he played; actually, it added to the experience. The movement was a joy to watch. So the continuing voice of the Spirit gets us to move.

The Spirit is not only the continuing voice of Jesus in the church and in your life, the Spirit is also the Paraclete, your constant companion called to stand along side you. As our constant companion, the Spirit reminds us to breathe: to breathe in the power and life the Spirit bestows through Word and Sacrament. The power and life produce the joy that transcends your circumstances. I accompanied Jilma during the birth of our sons. We did the Lamaze method. My role was to deflect her fixation on the pain of the contractions by getting her to focus on her breath. She was to breathe in deeply and watch her breath. That is essentially what the Holy Spirit does. The Spirit standing along us, reminds us to breathe in the life and power. To the extent that do, we have joy.. This Pentecost, we pray with church universal anew: “Come, Holy Spirit!” The Holy Spirit in our lives is the promise kept by Jesus.

 Pastor's page - April 2019

An unknown author tells the story of a man who fell into a pit and couldn’t get himself out.

A subjective person came along and said, “I feel for you down there.”

An objective person walked by and said, “It’s logical that someone would fall down there.”

A Pharisee said, “Only bad people fall into pits.”

A mathematician calculated how deep the pit was.

A news reporter wanted the exclusive story on the pit.

A self-pitying person said, “You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen my pit.”

A fire-and-brimstone preacher said, “You deserve your pit!”

A psychologist noted, “Your mother and father are to blame for that pit.”

A self-esteem therapist said, “Believe in yourself and you can get out of the pit.”

An optimist said, “Things could be worse.”

A pessimist claimed, “Things will get worse.”

Jesus, seeing the man, took him by the hand and lifted him out of the pit.

Jesus demonstrates what we need: we need someone to save us. We need someone who saves us not with words, philosophies and creative perspectives that enable us to justify ourselves. We need someone who can save us from realities from which we cannot save ourselves. Relative to that, we need real action, not another “ism.” Mercy is grace in action. As grace in action, Jesus is the epitome of mercy. He has mercy on us who have fallen into a pit from which we cannot save ourselves. Jesus saves us from the pit of sin, death and the devil by his life, death, resurrection and session at the right hand of God the Father.

We have spent the Lenten Season confronting our sin. We know it is an inherited baggage for which we must nevertheless take responsibility. The other day, the vicar and I got into a conversation about inherited, familial features. He told me he was spending the Lenten Season reflecting on the inherited traits of his family that trip him up. He noted that every family has inherited issues that linger for generations. He called them generational curses. That got me to thinking about the vestige that I carry from my own family. I looked at my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings and cousins. I looked at the things at which they are gifted and the things that are the source of constant, emotional conundrums. I looked at their successes and their failures. I looked at their coping skills and how they handle the stresses of life. Indeed some of the things they struggle with I, too, struggle with. We inherit the good and the bad from our families. Because we inherit traits from our families, however, does not absolve us of the responsibility of taking ownership of our inherited baggage.

God does not care, moreover, what station of life into which we are born. God cares whether we grow where we are. God desires that we live our lives, not someone else’s. Repentance catalyzes us to grow. At the last women’s retreat at which I worked, a woman spoke to me about feeling guilty about not being extroverted enough to witness boldly to the people into whom she came into contact. She was the consummate introvert. I told her extroverts have their way of expressing their faith and introverts have theirs. “You need to discover what is the spiritual expression commensurate with how you are gifted. Jesus had an extroverted Peter and introverted John.” Repentance produces growth that leads to self awareness and actualization. Repentance is grounded in the resurrection of our Lord, for it unlocks the benefit of the resurrection as an invitation to live a radically new life of peace, love and joy.

Pastor's page - March 2019

“Is your husband home?” they asked. “No,” the woman responded. The men said, “Then we cannot come in.”

In the evening when her husband was home, she told him about the men. Her husband then said, “Invite them in.” The woman went outside and invited the three old men into their home. “We don’t enter a house together,” the old men said. “Why is that?” she asked.

One of the old men explained. “His name is Wealth,” as he pointed to one of his friends. “This is Success and I am Love. Go and discuss with your husband which one of us you want in your home.”

The woman entered her house. She told her husband what Love had said. Her husband was overjoyed. He said, “Let’s invite Wealth into our home.” His wife disagreed and insisted that they invite Success. Their young daughter heard her parents debating which of the three old men to invite into their home. She said, “Wouldn’t it be better to invite Love into our home? Our home would be filled with love. Don’t you want our home to be filled with love?”

Her parents agreed. They both went outside and asked, “Which of you is Love? Come, be our guest.” Love got up and starting walking toward the house. Then the other two, Wealth and Success, followed love. Surprised, the woman said, “I only invited Love into our home. Why are you all coming in?”

The old men replied together, “If you had invited only Wealth or Success, the other two us would have stayed out. Since you invited Love, wherever he goes, we follow. Where there is love, there is also Wealth and Success.”

Indeed, great things follow love. Love is foundational to us as humans. Without love, we atrophy and die. Love is not only foundational to us, it is foundational to God. “God is love,” says the Bible. We are connected to our loving God through faith in Christ Jesus, who is love incarnate. Faith and love go hand in hand. There is an essential mutuality between love and faith.

Ash Wednesday begins the Lenten Season of the Church Year. It is our intent throughout the 40 days of Lent to lengthen the love of God in in our hearts. Lent derives from the Old English word Lencten, meaning “springtime.” The word also has derivation from the West Germanic word Langitinaz, meaning “long days.” It is during spring that days get longer. Longer days with more sun are welcomed in the colder climates, as the sun unveils the earth’s bounty of new life.

Accordingly, more of the Son of God in our hearts produces a rich spiritual bounty. We lengthen the light of Christ through fasting. We put away something to replace it with more contemplation on the word, more prayer, more alms, more of Christ in the Eucharist—indeed more love—so that the loving light of Christ warm our hearts from the coldness of sin. Indeed, many wonderful things follow love.

 Pastor's page - February 2019

For all his objectively-measurable accomplishments in office, James Polk is not the beloved president. Abraham Lincoln is the beloved president. James Polk grew the territory of the United States. Abraham Lincoln saved the United States from self-destruction. The war against self is the greater war to wage and win. Granted, Lincoln’s martyrdom cast him into a special class in the pantheon of American presidents. Yet, the war with oneself can be vicious and ugly, leading to many martyrs. Internecine fighting is the worse; rarely is there a negotiated peace. An Internecine fight is a war of attrition. So was the American Civil War. The war-weary face of Abraham Lincoln was illustrative of America at war with herself, the fight deep in her soul. It was America fighting against herself, fighting over how to implement her foundational value of freedom. Does freedom grant people the right to use their freedom to hurt others? Lincoln responded with a resounding no. We love and admire Lincoln because he challenged us to face the demons inside the soul of America, not merely the demons that we perceive in others as a rationalization to take their land. The war inside is the greater war. Emir Abd el-Kader, the Muslim Algerian leader in the fight against French colonization in Africa in the 19th century, whom Abraham Lincoln admired, understood that the internal war in the human soul is greater than the external war against other people. The Sufi mystic gave up fighting against the French to wage the war in the human soul.

Paul says something similar when he says in Ephesians that our fight is not against flesh and blood, but principalities and powers in high places. The mentors and leaders who enlighten us in how to successfully wage war with ourselves are the ones that we love and admire most. They challenge us to define success in such a way that it includes mastery of self. Sadly, I do not see enough self mastery in the public square. What occurs in the public square is symptomatic of what is happening in the American soul. Self mastery has a unique language: speaking the truth in love. During this month when we commemorate our national heroes, the people who master themselves are the true heroes whom we should emulate.

The story is told of an eight-year old boy who approached an old man in front of a wishing well. The boy looked up into his eyes and said, “I hear you are a very wise man. I would like to know the secret of life.”

The old man replied, “I’ve thought about that all my life. The secret can be summed up in four words.

First, think. Think about the values you wish to live by.

Second, believe. Believe in yourself to live by the values you think about.

Third, dream. Dream about the things you can accomplish based on the values you think about that you believe in yourself to live by.

Fourth, dare. Dare to make a reality the things you dream about based on the values that you think about that you believe in yourself to live by.”

Summing up, Walt Disney said to the little boy: “Think, believe, dream and dare.”

What a gift from a wise man! We need more wisdom. We have great intelligence. We have great knowledge. We know more about more things than ever before. We lack wisdom, however. Our politics today proves that we lack wisdom. To provide a commonwealth for all Americans, we seem unable to put the best interests of the country ahead of political partisanship. We need more wisdom in the public square.

We also need more wisdom in our everyday lives. December 25 was like Disneyland: full of idealism, sights, sounds and wonders, heaven kissing earth. January 6, the Epiphany of our Lord, is a subdued Christmas, full of the realism of everyday life where wisdom is so needed to negotiate the grays of life. Our soul needs both. It needs the brilliant, idealistic Christmas. It also needs the subdued realistic Christmas. Christ is at the center of both Christmases. Our souls need the wonder of Christ. Our souls need the wisdom of Christ.

On Epiphany, the magi bring to the Christ Child gifts symbolic of the offices of Jesus as prophet (frankincense) priest (myrrh) and king (gold). Jesus is a prophet who speaks with wisdom. Jesus speaks with wisdom when he tells you not to worry. Let tomorrow take care of itself. Seek first the kingdom now. Live in the moment now. How? God’s kingdom is a reign of grace and peace, love and joy in your hearts through faith in Christ. Peace, love and joy are always possibilities for you at any given moment. Christ our prophet dispenses wisdom that is mellifluous as incense.

Christ is a priest who reconciles with wisdom. The wise one is able to bring together parties at enmity with each other. Christ our priest brings God and humans together through his sacrificed body. He tears down the wall between God and humans in his body; he who knew no sin became sin for us to fulfill the just requirements of the law. In his body, Christ our priest breaks down of enmity between Jews and Gentiles, making of them one people in his body.

Jesus is a king who rules with wisdom. Compare Christ’s rule with that of Herod. Herod rules with anxiety. He was anxious about his ethnicity as an Idumean; he was not an authentic Jew. He was anxious about the Romans, though he was their sycophantic client. He was anxious about their power. Like people in power, he is anxious about competition. The news of the birth of a potential rival troubled him and all Jerusalem with him. He responds to his anxiety with murder. Murder was the way he dealt with people who troubled him, murdering even those in his own family. For potentates like Herod, they utilize power to exert power over people.

Jesus, however, is a different kind of ruler, king. He shares power with people. In the Sacrament of Baptism, our king gives us power in the Holy Spirit. The Spirit couples power with wisdom, wisdom that is so needed in a dark world. There is no getting around the fact that that you face a lot of gray situations in life. In your heart you face many gray situations, as you battle to defeat the remaining influences of sin in your life. To do that, you need wisdom. Wisdom negotiates the grays of life better than an absolute, black-and-white knowledge.

In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul encourages us to seek the spiritual gifts; it is most appropriate to desire them. He couples the gift of knowledge with the gift of wisdom. You need both. Knowledge is a special light, a great wonder; yet, knowledge must be applied in such a way that it pays attention to the whole context. Wisdom makes knowledge pay attention to the whole context of a person’s life in the application of knowledge. The wonder of knowledge can puff up, however. Wisdom puts knowledge in its place.

The magi (sages) had a tremendous amount of knowledge. They mastered every intellectual subject from mathematics to medicine. Long before the Enlightenment Age in the 18th century AD made the scientific method the basis of knowledge, the ancient sages were paying attention to the cosmos, studying it and exulting in wonder. The true sages saw the cosmos as revealing the glory of God; consequently, they knew they were small in comparison. You don’t get that impression from Enlightenment thinkers: they studied the cosmos to aggrandize themselves, exploiting nature and the cosmos like a machine.

For the ancient sages, however, study of the cosmos revealed to them their place in it. With all their knowledge, the sages still listened to the voice of God that led them to the Christ Child. The voice of God also led them out of danger. The voice of God was the wisdom of God. The sages exemplify to us that we need both knowledge and wisdom. We need both wonder and wisdom. Knowledge produces great wonders. How could your heart not exult in wonder as you surf the internet? Yet, your knowledge will never outpace your need for wisdom, for wisdom addresses the issues of your heart that your head will never understand.

“Darkness was cheap and Scrooge liked it.”

That is a line from Charles Dickens’s classic work, A Christmas Carol. Ebenezer Scrooge, the protagonist in the story, was a miserly man who refused to open his heart to the joy of the Christmas season. In his pursuit of profits, he made life difficult for himself and others associated with him. He refused to provide for the proper work environment, so that his sole employee could be productive. He shuns a Christmas dinner invitation. He shouts at charity workers in the street outside his place of business. Scrooge only values business and profits.

One night, Scrooge has a ghostly visitation. His former partner, Jacob Marley, dead for seven years, visits him. Since his death, Marley’s spirit has been roaming the earth as a punishment for his parsimonious ways when alive. Like Scrooge, he put business before people, thereby missing out on life. He has come to warn Scrooge and maybe save him from his ways. He tells his colleague that three spirits will visit him over the course of three nights: the ghost of Christmas past, the ghost of Christmas present, and the ghost of Christmas future. Each encounter has special significance for Scrooge as he sees himself from a different perspective. The encounter with the three spirits actually happens in one night. Nevertheless, Scrooge awakens a new man. He opens his heart to life. He comes to understand that darkness is not cheap; it has a cost: one’s soul.

In the Victorian Age, the 19th century English-speaking world, ghost stories abounded at Christmas time, of which A Christmas Carol is the epitome. “O tell us a tale of ghosts! Now do! It’s a capital time, for the fire burns blue.” Historians have long busied themselves with theories as to why ghost stories proliferated in Queen Victoria’s world. Some have noted that the popularity of ghost stories came on the heels of economic changes afoot. The Industrial Revolution drove people out of rural areas into cities, where they competed for jobs and taxed the resources of cities. A byproduct of the Industrial Revolution was urban blight and the sense of anomie that people felt in cities, being disconnected from familiar surroundings. They were in a state of real mourning over the loss of a world they had known. They were on edge: every creak in the floors and walls spooked them in their new, unfamiliar environs.

Victorian cities, moreover, were lit by gas lamps. The carbon monoxide emitted from them could provoke hallucinations of shadowy figures lurking about in crowded apartments, castles and churches. Ironically, technological advances caused ghost stories to abound. The telegraph allowed people to communicate at great distances. The tapping of the telegraph receiver became the warrant of ghosts communicating through tapping noises. The Fox sisters in New York alleged to communicate with ghosts through tapping noises. They were later proven to be a hoax, however. Spirit photography grew out of technological advances in photography. William Mumler’s picture of Mary Todd Lincoln with the ghostly hands of Abraham Lincoln on her shoulders was all the rage. Technological advances in the Victorian Age did not diminish ghost stories. They aided and abetted them.

The proliferation of ghost stories in the Victorian Age demonstrates what humans in all ages have long struggled with: that is how do we grieve, how do we cope with loss, with change? How do we especially deal with the loss of loved ones during the most joyous time of the year? Christmas and Christmastide are nostalgic times. The music, the food, and the atmosphere cause you to think of Christmases past. There is real pain at this time of the year.

In the closing weeks of the year, our state has suffered twin tragedies in the mass shooting in Thousand Oaks and the recent wildfires. The wildfires are slated to become the worst in our state’s history. The town of Paradise was wiped out: a loss of 7,100 structures, mainly homes. As last count, 88 people lost their lives. The death toll could still rise, as there are people still missing. However you weigh it, this Christmas will be a Blue Christmas for many. How, then, should we celebrate Christmas given the corporate pain that we all feel as we commiserate with those who have lost everything? “There but for the grace of God go I.” That statement invites humility and repentance.

At its core, moreover, every Christmas is a blue Christmas, as we contemplate the reason for the birth of the Christ Child. He was born to undergo tragedy with us and ultimately die for the tragedy of sin and death. Christmas, however, empowers us to handle pain and tragedy not like those who have no hope. We are never free of the possibility of tragedy in this life. But, Christmas empowers us to transcend it, knowing that nothing can separate us from the love in Christ Jesus. “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the King.”

Pastor's Page - November 2018

The story is told of a man who was distraught by all the pain and suffering in the world. One day he got so angry about the negative condition of the world that he pounded his fist on the ground. Then, he turned his head towards the heavens and exclaimed to God, "Look at this mess on this planet! Look at the pain and suffering! Look at all the killing and hate! God, why don't you do something about it?!" Surprisingly, God spoke back to him and said, "I did. I sent you."

On November 1, All Saints' Day, we commemorate all the saints, known and unknown, who had a keen sense of their calling in Christ and through that calling did something to better the world. In the process of living their lives they heeded the moral imperative and tried to do something to address the pain and suffering in this world. We emulate them. We thank the Lord for them.

The author of Hebrews says, "We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses." (Hebrews 12:1) We, the church militant--the church that still wages battle against sin, death and the devil, the church that still lives in this mess of a world--are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses who comprise the church triumphant. The church triumphant is a collection of people who did something in their own unique way to better the world. It may have been the grandmother who taught her grandchild how to pray. It may have been the faithful pastor who gave of himself tirelessly to his ministry, never seeking accolades from members, knowing that his meat and drink was to perform the will of God in his calling. He knew that the work was its own reward.

The church triumphant, then, is comprised of the unknown saints who have had an impact on the micro world of your life and the well-known saints who have pushed the macro world of human history along the curbed arc toward justice and righteousness, where God will be all in all after Christ has subdued every enemy under his feet. The resurrected and ascended Christ is presently fighting to vanquish all his enemies. To the extent that we are in Him through the waters of Baptism, we, too, are engaged in that fight. That is why we are called the church militant: we fight and suffer with Christ.

It is because we still fight, moreover, that we need a great cloud of witnesses. The great cloud of witnesses is one of the many spiritual resources that we have to engage this world for the better. In the Old Testament, clouds are symbolic of the presence of God, which is God's glory. The presence of God is God's glory. Think about that for a moment. . . .The ancient church sang, Ubi caritas est, Deus ibi est.. "Wherever there is love, God is there." The presence of God is the glory of God. The glory of God is love. A great cloud (love) accompanied the Israelites along the way through the desert from slavery to freedom. Mount Sinai was suffused with clouds (love) when Moses received the law from the mouth of God. The tabernacle, the movable worship center of the Israelites, was the holy place where God met Moses and the priests in clouds (love) of smoke to guide them along the treacherous path to the Holy Land. The cloud (love) is a theophany of God; it is the presence of God. The cloud (love) was symbolic of the nearness of God and the transcendence of God. Along the treacherous way to the Holy Land the Israelites needed a close God; yet, they needed a God big enough to control history. When the author of Hebrews speaks of saints being in the cloud (love), he means that they are in God. The church triumphant is in God. They die into God and they now live in God. We are surrounded by them inasmuch as God surrounds us. This is a great comfort to us as we traverse a difficult way to eternal life.

The tragic killings of our Jewish friends in Pittsburgh is another vivid reminder that evil has not yet been vanquished. The fight continues. As we fight, let us not forget that love is greater than hate. Love is greater than evil. We overcome all evil with love. Hence, we must remain close to the sources of love, for they are our power. They are our support systems as we live in a world where there is so much pain and suffering.

Armies, moreover, need support systems to maintain a position of battle readiness. An army that outflanks its support system will be made vulnerable to attack and eventual defeat. This was the mistake that Napoleon made when he attacked Russia in June of 1812. His army got stuck in the Russian winter. Oddly enough, Adolf Hitler made the same mistake in World War II 129 years later. Might there be a truth about evil in those two illustrations? Evil narrows the possibilities of life. Evil is prone to being stuck in what it obsesses about. Such obsessions produce a narrowing of the possibilities of life, which leads to death. Evil does not have the freedom that love has. Love expands life; evil contracts life.

The church triumphant is part of our support system. We dare not outflank them by engaging this world without their loving support and prayers. They are the cloud (love) of witnesses that signal that we are not alone. We need their support in prayers, in wisdom and abiding fellowship produced by unbreakable bond of love in Christ Jesus.

Pastor's Page - September 2018

"Tame Your Inner Critic"

Pastor's Page - July 2018

As we celebrate the 242nd birthday of our nation, a seeming infinitesimal amount of years compared to those of the Chinese, Indian and European nations, let us consider that our nation was spawned amid the fierce competition of nations with imperial designs: Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, French and English. By the 18th century, the competition for the North American continent was especially fierce between the English and French. The Native American peoples and people of African descent played off this competition to gain favorable treatment, though such treatment was all too temporary.

America, moreover, has been described as the first postcolonial nation to break away from the clutches of a colonizing empire, namely the British Empire. America would provide the template, the template of freedom, for other subjugated peoples desiring to throw off the chains of empire. As a case in point, the Vietnamese people in 1954 faced off with their French colonial masters. They used our Declaration of Independence to inform their own statement of independence from French hegemony.

From whence cometh this template of freedom? America has two parents. She is the child of the Enlightenment. Most of the founding fathers and mothers of our nation were influenced by the Enlightenment and the philosophy that derived from it. Two major themes came from Enlightenment thinking. First, reason was a unique light leading people out of the darkness of superstition, bigotry and ignorance. In the 17th century, it was the absolutism of faith, the very Archimedian point of superstition, bigotry and ignorance, which led to the 30 Years War on the continent in the aftermath of the 16th century Reformation. The Enlightenment was a necessary correction to the bloodshed and mayhem caused by the Catholics and Protestants. Many people lost their lives over whose version of the pacifist Jesus was true. Reason became foundational to Enlightenment thinking.

Another important theme of the Enlightenment was the idea that all humans share the same rights by virtue of being human. They are all beholden to a creator who has given them "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." Thomas Jefferson expressed these rights as coming from God, not an endowment of government. These rights are universal, available to all humans.

If the Enlightenment is the father of America, then Christianity is her mother. The Bible informs the American consciousness of being a unique nation endowed with the purpose to lead other nations. The story of the liberation of the Jews from Egypt became an attractive analogy that bespoke American liberation from the British imperial power. The Ten Commandments became a source of morality. And, the religious experience of freedom from sin, death and the devil through Christ's substitutionary work also contributed to America's fundamental value of freedom.

Freedom, then, is the meeting place of the Enlightenment and the Christian Faith. America is a continual experiment in the articulation of freedom for all. No other country has changed itself more in ensuring that freedom be extended to its inhabitants. Freedom, then, is uniquely America. Freedom is primary to diversity, economic prosperity or even equality for that matter. However, any cursory view of the political scene today would reveal that freedom is being trampled upon, namely people's individual freedom of expression, belief and freedom to engage in commerce in a way that brings them happiness. People are afraid to express their political leanings for fear of being attacked. As we pray for our nation on its birthday, this present political context must inform our prayers. Let us pray that the political persecution stop. This shaming of Americans for their views is profoundly un-American.

Let us pray for civility, asking that people learn to speak the truth in love.

Pastor's Page - June 2018

This June, the National Basketball Association (NBA) Finals featured for the fourth consecutive year the Cleveland Cavaliers and the Golden State Warriors. In this latest NBA rivalry, the Warriors, who play in Oakland, California have won twice and Cavaliers, once. Some are elated about these same two teams playing in the finals, as it is in the spirit of other historic rivalries like the Los Angeles Lakers and the Boston Celtics; others, however, are tired of the same act.

Rivalries are the stuff that sports history, tradition and mythology are made of. Inevitably, we identify with the same cast of characters. Their personal stories become a source of inspiration when we learn of their struggles, their setbacks, and their triumphs in defiance of those setbacks. Indeed, sports imitate life. The commitment, dedication and focus in sports are translatable to other aspects of life, like excellence in music, academics and wealth building. The internal struggles with self, the doubts and fears, the triumphs and failures, are present in any endeavor in life.

And, it is instructive how athletes overcome their battles with self-sabotage and achieve excellence.

For instance, LeBron James, star of the Cleveland Cavaliers, had a nagging thought that left him crestfallen. At several points this season he doubted whether his team would make it to the playoffs, let alone the finals. "We'll never make it," thought the perennial All Pro. "The team's in disarray, going through a transition." LeBron's sentiments were borne out by several blowout losses to weak teams in the months of December and January. He felt the team giving up, settling on mediocrity. "And I was like, 'OK, I am not settling for that conversation. Now that is ridiculous. Now I have got to get into the playoffs.'"

That sequence of thoughts is what we admire in the great people like LeBron James, no matter their field of excellence: the refusal to give up and settle for mediocrity. The biggest battle is the battle with the internal self, the battle with thoughts. Once negative, debilitating thoughts are called out within oneself, the heroes that we admire achieve great things.

We may not be gifted to achieve greatness with a basketball or a guitar, but we, certainly like any accomplished person, must face our thoughts and call out the thoughts that lead to self sabotage, thoughts that keep us from living the abundant life in Christ informed by peace, love and joy. St. Paul, who loved sports and used sports analogies to illustrate spiritual truths ("running the race"; "boxing in the air," to name a couple), challenges us to take every thought to Christ Jesus (2 Corinthians 10:5). Our thought life is the frontline of spiritual warfare. It is incumbent on us to develop discernment about the thoughts that barge in on us. Also, we must learn to ignore thoughts, preferring to go about our day with a quiet mind. That is possible if we decide to take every thought captive to Christ and choose instead to think about whatever is lovely, true, honorable, just, commendable, excellent, worthy of praise, so that the peace of God in Christ would inundate our every moment (Philippians 4:8,9). Such mental hygiene is the key to excellence in all life's endeavors.

He had a premonition that he would die young. Death was his close companion, as he thought about it often. He was never afraid of being physically hurt; therefore, his father's corporal punishment did not work on him. When at eight years of age he heard that his beloved grandmother had died, he jumped from the second story of the family home intending to join her in death. He did not want her to be alone in death.

As a young man, he and his fellow clergy used gallows humor to quell the stress of their divinely-appointed work. They would practice preaching at each other's funeral. Long before he gave his inspiring mountain top speech on April 3, 1968, for years Dr. Martin Luther King had rehearsed in his mind the content of that speech. Indeed Dr. Martin Luther King's life-long premonition would come true. He was assassinated at the tender age 39, at 6:01pm on April 4, 1968, in the city of Memphis, Tennessee. This April 4th is the 50th Anniversary of his death.

Like King, death is our constant companion. Some of us are well aware of this haunting darkness. Others of us are in denial of its reality, pretending that, if we do not think about it, then we can keep it away at arm's length. Nothing could be further from the truth.

On Good Friday, we looked our mortality in the face. We accepted the reality that we shall die. But, we did not stop at the specter of death. Inherent in the acceptance of the reality death is the challenge: how then, shall we live? In the horizon of the Good Friday is the Easter Sunday empty tomb. It determines how we should live in the face of an imminent death.

Sacramentally, we stand at the cross together with Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary, the wife of Clopas, Mary Magdalene, and John. We stand with them peering at Jesus. As we look at Jesus, we look at our humanity, our own mortality. Jesus' history is our history. All that he went through, we go through. The waters of Baptism have made our close identification with Jesus.

Jesus on the cross is the Crucified God. Wherever God is there is hope, hope that God will do something about sin, death and the devil. God must do something about them, otherwise God is not just and loving. God has done something: the death of Jesus is the death of death. The resurrection of Jesus is the life of life. Christus Victor has vanquished hell.

Because of the death of death and the life of life, like Dr. King you can be so bold as to rehearse your funeral. More than that, because of the death of death and the life of life, you can really live. What does it mean to really live? Dr. King felt that after finishing his Ph.D. he would petition for a pastorate in a college town, where he could perform both his passions: preaching and teaching. For Dr. King that would have been really living. That was what he really wanted for himself. Coretta, his wife, wanted that for him as well.

But, that was not the calling on his soul. The calling on his soul would reveal itself in time and in various circumstances. Though his calling impoverished him, though it tortured him psychologically, nevertheless if he had the chance to do it all over again, he would have followed the calling on his soul, which, of course, was to lead the Civil Rights Movement in the late 50s and 60s. Like King, if you can say that you would do it all again if given the chance to relive your life, then you are living by the calling on your soul. Dr. King knew that death was not the worst thing that could happen to him; not following the calling on his soul was worse. The calling on your soul is found when you face your other. The other you face is death. You face it with resurrection confidence and courage, forging an abundant life of peace, love and joy in the face of the chaos of this present darkness. People who live that way are people of resurrection hope and power.

Pastor's page - March 2018

The story is told of a young woman who went to her grandmother and told her about her life. She explained to her how things were so hard and that she did not know how she was going to make it. She wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed to her that as soon as one problem was solved a new one would pop up.

Her grandmother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each under a high fire. Soon, the pots came to a boil. Into the first pot she placed carrots. Into the second pot she placed an egg. And, into the third pot she placed some ground coffee beans. She let the pots continue to boil. She never said a word. Twenty minutes later, she turned off all the burners. She took the carrots out of the pot and placed them in a bowl. She took the egg out of the pot and placed it also in a bowl. Finally, she ladled the coffee beans out of the pot and placed them in a bowl.

Turning to her granddaughter, she said, “Tell me what you see.”

“Carrots, an egg and coffee,” she replied. Her grandmother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did. She noticed that they were soft. Her grandmother asked her to take the egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally, the grandmother asked her granddaughter to sip the coffee. She smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. She asked, “What does it all mean?”

Her grandmother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrots went into the water strong, hard and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, they softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile before going into the boiling water. Its thin, outer shell had protected its liquid interior; but, after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were placed in the boiling water, they changed the water. The granddaughter’s eyes brightened.

Which are you?” the wise grandmother asked her granddaughter.

Indeed before hitting the boiling water of adversity, some are like the carrots. They are hardened in their worldview, which sometimes has no room for God. They are firmly ensconced in their intellectual and emotional systems, thinking that they will give them security and wellbeing. Along the way, life happens. Adversity, ever inherent in life, softens them and makes them flimsy. Others are like the egg. The adversity of life has the opposite effect on them: they get hardened. They may have at one time faced life with optimism and broadmindedness. They got hardened, however. They became jaded. I believe that God must have a special mercy for the jaded, frustrated idealist, people who really wanted the best for the world but got shut down. Who are people like the coffee beans? Who are the people whom the adversity of life did not bitter, but better? You do not have to go very far to find them. They are right in our midst at St. Luke Lutheran Church. In my mind’s eye, I can see several people who are like ground coffee beans. There is no whining in them. At one time, there may have been appropriate lament about their circumstances, but they did not stay there. They got back up. A sweet, powerful aroma follows them. They have become signs of hope for us who have fallen on hard times, heralding to us that difficult situations and circumstances need not harden us against life’s beauty or soften our moral fiber in acting forthrightly on behalf of Christ’s kingdom of peace, love and joy. It is love that gives the ground coffee beans among us their sweet aroma. They are wounded healers having been ground down by the circumstances of life. Yet, whenever adversity touches them, they explode with the most pleasant aroma, blessing instead of cursing; loving instead of hating; listening deeply and compassionately instead of standing on a soapbox of absolutism and dualism. Both Jesus and Paul teach us not to be overcome by evil; instead, we are to overcome evil with the good.

The ultimate good is love. That is a clarion call not to let life’s circumstances change us. The cross of Jesus overcame evil with the good. During this season of Lent, let us reflect on the power of God’s love in Christ Jesus as we continue our commitment of making loving disciples who are not overcome by their circumstances, but who overcome all such circumstances with the good, namely the love of God in Christ Jesus.

Parts 2 and 3 of Handel’s “Messiah” will be presented at Bridges Hall of Music, Pomona College, 150 E. Fourth Street in Claremont, from 3-5 p.m. on Saturday, March 10. These beautiful sections share “the rest of the story,” apart from the familiar Christmas portion. Professional soloists Coril Prochnow, soprano, Suzanna Guzman, mezzo-soprano, Matthew Miles, tenor and Wayne Shepperd, bass and chamber orchestra join the Claremont Chorale share the most beloved work in this timeless choral repertoire. Pre-sale tickets are available from Chorale members or at Rio de Ojas, 250 N. Harvard Ave. in Claremont. Tickets may be purchased online at claremontchorale.org. Tickets are $20.00 each at the door.

Pastor’s Page - February 2018

"The Chatter of Chaos"

A Sermon Based on Mark 1:21-28

The story is told of a group of frogs. They were traveling through the forest when two of them fell into a deep pit. When the other frogs saw how deep the pit was, they told the two frogs who had fallen into the pit that there was no hope left for them. However, the two frogs ignored their comrades. They proceeded to try to jump out of the pit. Despite their efforts, the frogs at the top of the pit were encouraging them to give up. They would never make it out. Eventually, one of the frogs took heed to what the others were saying. He gave up, jumping even deeper to his death. The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. The other frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and just die. He ignored them. He jumped even harder. Finally, he made it out. The other frogs said, "Did you not hear us?" The frog explained to them that he was deaf. He thought that they were encouraging him the entire time.

Words are powerful. They have a huge effect on others. It is incumbent on us to think about what we say before we say it. It might be the difference between life and death. But, there is some thing else in that story of the frogs to which we should pay attention. We have to develop the ability to turn off the chatter of others, to be deaf to it. Indeed in our families we hurt those whom we love with our words. The childhood adage that sticks and stones can break bones but words can never hurt is not true.

You know the power of words. It is for this reason that the Son of God became the word of God. Jesus is the perfect word about the Father. He is a most powerful articulation of the Father. Words are important to existence. They can make us or break us. It should not surprise you that our enemies have a special currency in words. The demonic knows the importance of words to our existence as humans. So, they distort reality with words, lie with them, dispirit with them, confuse and create chaos with words. At issue this morning is whether we can be deaf to the chatter of chaos.

In the Gospel reading, we see that the crowds are amazed that Jesus teaches with authority. The teaching task of Jesus is his most important during the Epiphany Season, for his words bring enlightenment. Enlightenment is necessary in a dark world. Wherever Jesus is, there in that place is enlightenment. John 1:4 says it best when it says that in Jesus is life. That life is the light of the world. As the Son of God through whom the universe comes into existence, Jesus is an abundance of life. Jesus came to give us life and to give it abundantly. God in Christ lavishes us with spiritual life, physical life, intellectual life, emotional life. Jesus is life. That is his authority. He teaches with authority because he is the source of all life. His teaching and life are commensurate with each other. His teaching and life cannot fail to be commensurate because the whole universe is dependent on his faithfulness. His authority is grounded in his faithfulness. He accomplishes what he promises. As the faithful one, we can draw close to the abundant life in Christ and receive light. We receive a light that steers us through the darkness of chaos. Every response to an intensification of chaos is to draw closer to Jesus, who, alone, can enlighten the way along the dark path of chaos.

In the Gospel reading, we see how chaos sneaks up on us. The people were gathered around Jesus. They are in a holy place. A holy place is any place where Jesus is holding forth, for in that place he is dispensing peace, love and joy. Chaos in the form of the possessed man ironically screams out the truth. Jesus is the Son of God who came to destroy Satan and his minions. At issue is how and when the man screams out. He screams out to intimidate, to invalidate the truth. If the messenger is somehow compromised, then the message becomes invalidated. You don't want to associate with it.

That reminds me of something that happened when I was at UCLA. A new ministry wanted to join the University Religious Conference, a collection mainline denominations. They called themselves the Truth Ministry. We struggled over a year whether to let this new ministry join the historic churches committed to ecumenism and interfaith. We finally relented and let the group join. Then the trouble began. Their commitment to their "truth" gave them permission to speak in ugly, unflattering and demeaning ways about people, especially non Christians. If they were the truth ministry sponsored by the University Religious Conference, then they besmirched our name and reputation. We were profoundly chagrined by the Truth Ministry. They had the words of Jesus, but not his spirit, his authority informed by love. That is the chatter of chaos we must be deaf to. Note how Jesus deals with that chatter of chaos. He commands the man to be quiet. He drives the demons out of the man.

We can do the same thing following Jesus, our epiphany light. We can hear the chatter of chaos in our own hearts. We can hear the disorder. In the name of Jesus, we silence it. We drive it out.  

I have made the point many times that the frontline of spiritual warfare is our thought life. We are to take every thought captive through the name and authority of Jesus. This battle you must take seriously. Some of you give your mind free reign. You let it go to ungodly places because you think that the thoughts that your mind generates are valuable. Most of them are rubbish. The focused mind is the beautiful mind. Look at the culture in the West that the focused mind has developed. It is the unfocused mind that is trouble. It is the unfocused mind that is vulnerable to the chatter of chaos.

The unfocused mind in worship is prone to the chatter of chaos. If your mind is focused on the purpose you are here, you won't fall prey to the chatter of chaos. You are here to be meet God in the word and sacrament. You are here to experience the peace, love and joy in Christ. After your sins are forgiven and the Spirit shows you the face of Jesus, you become more and more deaf to the chatter of chaos.

I have respect for anyone with the letters Ph.D. at the end of her/his name. I know the blood, sweat and tears that go into that degree. I know the profound focus. My adviser told me that the qualifying exams are the hardest exams that I will ever take in my life. Some of you told me the same thing. That was not a comforting thought. As I studied I heard the chatter of chaos: "Who do you think you are? You can't do this. Give up! You should have done this in your 30s, you old fool." I heard those thoughts. There were times that I felt like giving up. I got the thought; I got the feeling of anxiety roiling in me. But, I didn't stay in that thought. I surrendered it to Jesus and kept going.

Be deaf to the chatter of chaos and keep on focusing on Christ. He is your life and your light. By the authority of his word you loose the grip of the chatter of chaos. By the authority of his word you experience true freedom. Amen.

Pastor’s Page - January 2018

The story is told of two cats walking on a narrow path toward each other. When they came near each other, neither of the two was willing to let the other pass. They stood facing each other and began aggressively hissing at each other.

"You let me by first!" screamed one cat. "No! I was here first," responded the other. "No, I must be first because I am bigger." "No, I must be first because I am more beautiful." "No, I am wiser than you; you must, therefore, respect me." "I am stronger."

The screams turned into a fight. The cats scratched, clawed and bit each other. As they rolled around, a wiser cat arrived on the scene. He looked at them and began to laugh. The cats stopped fighting and looked at the wiser cat in bewilderment.

"Why are you laughing?" The embattled cats asked. "I'm laughing at you and your behavior. You are wasting your time; you are hurting each other just because you won't let the other pass. The path is wide enough for each of you to pass. Why are you fighting?"

"It's a matter of honor and power," the cats responded. The wise cat was amused. He said, "Someone who is strong and self-confident doesn't feel the need to show such strength to others. That person feels good about herself/himself. Others feel their strength and respect them. Life is beautiful: there is good food; there are wonderful things to do and enjoy. Yet, you are scratching and fighting over perceived slights. Is it really important who passes first? Are the scratches and cuts worth it? Is your fighting practical? Is it rational? Open your eyes and grow up. Look at all the other animals laughing at your irrational behavior."

The two cats were dumbfounded. They had nothing to say. The words of the wise cat made sense, but their subconscious, programmed behaviors and habits were too strong. It was not easy for them to change. Question . . . Did the two cats stop fighting?

Programmed behavior, habits and the subconscious are powerful. They cause wars among nations, tribes, families and clans. We especially reckon with their power at the beginning of the New Year when we purpose to change our lives. We make New Year's resolutions to alter our programmed behavior and habits that trouble us. The New Year emboldens us to change. That is indeed a good thing. People driven by change show they're self aware. Self awareness is fundamental to growth in faith. Repentance drives us to be more self aware. Nevertheless, the subconscious, habits and programmed behavior prove to be resistant. We bemoan with St. Paul that the good that we desire to do we find ourselves incapable of doing. We number ourselves among those hungering and thirsting for righteousness, the ones whom Jesus blessed. So, have at it: resolve to limit yourself to one cookie. That is admirable. But, if you fail on that resolution, then get back up. To fall is all too human; to get back up is divine.

Start 2018 in the grace and love of God that are yours in Christ Jesus. He is the power to change the subconscious and the programmed behavior, for he can penetrate the stacks of defenses and rationalizations cluttering the heart.

All that God would ever expect of us in 2018 is not to beat ourselves up. Life is hard enough. Keep on fighting, getting back up in the love and grace of Christ Jesus. Victory will come. If not in 2018, then certainly another time. We are a people that is hopeful, never giving up. Happy New Year!

Pastor's Page - December 2017

In his classic work "The Chronicles of Narnia," C.S. Lewis says that winter without Christmas would be unbearable. Indeed Christmas and winter belong together, especially in those parts of the country where they wish for a white Christmas. There's something incongruous about longing for a white Christmas in subtropical Southern California; yet, the lengths we go through to replicate in this climate that ideal pairing of Christmas and winter as experienced in the colder climates of our country and Europe. The other day I saw a house decked out with long, fake icicles along the front of the house and fake snow on the bushes and lawn. The house looked as if it was taken out of a winter wonderland postcard from Aspen, Colorado. Hovering in the background of the house was a 75⁰ sun catalyzing a brilliant, blue sky. The house looked out of place; it was the epitome of incongruence. But, I must concede that it wasn't as bad as Christmas lights on palm trees.

Fake icicles and snow in Southern California and even Christmas lights on palm trees bespeak something significant about us humans: the culture we create and pass onto succeeding generations is hybrid. Culture is a mixture of many things. Christmas is the mixture of many traditions. If ever there were a multicultural phenomenon, it would be Christmas. Throughout history, the story of Christmas has impacted people from ethnicities too many to number. Each gave something unique to the phenomenon of Christmas.

At the foundation of our celebration of Christmas, moreover, there really is a winter experience, a winter experience for all humans, be they in Southern California or Northern Minnesota. There is a common experience of an existential winter that makes appropriate the coupling of that winter with Christmas. Winter is the season when nature lies dormant. The deciduous trees lose their leaves and hyperactive animals hibernate. Winter can be harsh. Winter is the death of nature. Metaphorically and actually, we experience the death of nature on several levels:  in nature, in ourselves and in those whom we love. How could we ever bear this harsh winter of life without Christmas? This winter without Christmas would indeed be unbearable. Christmas in the winter, however, holds out the reality that God is with us in the winter experiences of life. God became a child in Christ Jesus to save us from the harsh reality that causes death, namely sin. The angel Gabriel told Joseph to name Mary's child Jesus, for he would save his people from their sin. Sin is the source of the winter of our discontent. In the waters of Baptism, the Holy Spirit brings us into close proximity with the Christ Child, who in his birth at Christmas, opens up the reality of our bring birthed into eternity after the winter of this life is over. Until such time, in the meantime winter is cold; it is lonely; nevertheless, Jesus accompanies us through this life, giving us the spiritual viaticum that we need as we travel through this dark winter. Indeed winter without Christmas makes this life unbearable. Winter with Christmas makes this life a winter wonderland.

Pastor’s Page - November 2017

The great American poet, Maya Angelou, once said: "If you don't like something, then change it. If you can't change it, then change your attitude." Reformations and revolutions were spawned by people who changed their attitudes long before they made an impact on the world. Sometimes, such people would signal their attitudinal change by changing their names. Through such a name change, they would turn their back on whatever legacy that they might have inherited in their given names.

In 1934, racism in America was an intractable, ubiquitous monster. Many had died trying to change it. Amid such futility, some sought to change themselves. One such person was Rev. Michael King. In 1934, the 35-year-old King took a trip to all the significant, historical sites of Christianity. For all intents and purposes, his trip was a religious pilgrimage. His trip took him to key sites in the Holy Land and Europe. It was, however, his pilgrimage to the various sites associated with the life and legacy of Martin Luther in Germany that changed his life. He saw himself in Martin Luther. In fact, he so identified with Martin Luther that after returning home from his pilgrimage, he changed his name from Michael King, Sr. to Martin Luther King, Sr. He also changed the name of his five-year-old son from Michael King, Jr. to Martin Luther King, Jr. He would go on to have a dream.

Indeed throughout the Bible, there is precedent for people changing their names or having their names changed. God changed Jacob's name to Israel. Jesus changed Simon's name to Peter. Saul jettisoned his Jewish name and called himself Paul. When Michael King changed his name, he was declaring that there was more to him than being African-American. When God changed Jacob's name, he was declaring that there was more to Jacob than his sinful life of deception and deceiving. When Jesus changed Simon's name, he signaled that he was more than his impetuous personality. When Saul changed his name, he signaled that he was more than a murderer of Christians.

Today we celebrate the 500th Anniversary of the Reformation of the Church. It is "500 Years and Counting." It is 500 years and counting because the name and legacy that spawned the Reformation are still relevant. What are the name and legacy that produced the Reformation?

It is the name Jesus. His name is the only name under heaven through which people are saved. Jesus' legacy comes with the name. The angel Gabriel told Joseph to call the baby in Mary's womb "Jesus," for he will save his people from their sins. Indeed Jesus liberates people from sin. We are enslaved to sin not only because we commit sin; we are manacled to sin because we are born into its clutches. Sin is a negative spiritual reality from which no one can save oneself. How do we know that? The Bible tells us so, specifically the law. The law condemns us; the law tells us that we are in slavery. In slavery, you have no identity. You belong to your owners, sin, death and the devil. Your personhood belongs to them. The products of your personhood belong to them. In slavery, you have no legacy; you have no family; you have no story, no history, no language. You have no life, for it can be snuffed out of you at the whim of the owner.

Jesus is our emancipation proclamation. He who knew no sin became sin for us. By his life, death and resurrection, the Son has made us free. As a consequence, we have the name and legacy of Jesus. There is power in Jesus' name. It is the power to forgive us of our sin and grant us eternal life with him and all the saints. Jesus imbued his name with power when he said, "Ask anything in my name and I shall do it." As it is bundled with the name of Jesus, we also have the legacy of Jesus. The legacy of Jesus is the abundant life with his loving Father tucked in the security of the Holy Spirit.

It is the name and legacy of Jesus to which Martin Luther was committed. They freed him from his own entanglements with sin. God used him to reconnect the Church to the name and legacy of Jesus. In Luther's day, other people's names and legacies became more important than Jesus. As the people in Jesus' day prided themselves in being the children of Abraham, obfuscating the God who gave their ancestors the true bread from heaven, so in Luther's day people prided themselves in being Franciscans, Augustinians, Dominicans and Benedictines. Jesus was a victim in the fight over their traditions. For Luther, there is only one name and one legacy that matter: Jesus! It's still about Jesus.

For Martin Luther King, Sr., exposure to Martin Luther changed his life. Martin Luther so opened up King's life that he could see more in himself than the color of his skin. What did the elder King see in Luther? He saw the courage of Luther in facing the Goliath of an all-powerful, tyrannical church which proffered its traditions as the media to get right with God. But, once Martin Luther discovered the truth of faith in the atoning work of Christ Jesus, there was no returning to the rags of works righteousness.

King, moreover, faced the Goliath of racism. The evil of racism, any "ism" for that matter, is that it makes people one-dimensional. Luther occasioned King to discover that he was multi-dimensional. King, in fact, had become so multi-dimensional that race no longer mattered. He went all the way to Germany to find a mentor in Martin Luther. Through Luther, he could see more in himself. God uses people like Luther to lead people to deepen their relationship with Christ. We need mentors to grow us up in Christ. If King could find in Luther a mentor, so can you. Is there a Goliath in your life that seeks to make you one-dimensional? Luther's life and legacy is a clarion call that you need not limit yourself, especially to sin, death and the devil.

I became Lutheran in the mid-sixties. The relationship between blacks and whites was not good back then. There was strife everywhere. After moving from riot-torn Los Angeles, my parents moved to the safe haven of Pomona. We joined the appropriately-named Peace Lutheran Church in Pomona. My family was the only African-American family in a congregation of about 150 people. My siblings and I used to be embarrassed about being members of our church. We were shy about telling our friends that we belonged to an all-white church in those days of racial unease. But, my Lutheran church, bearing the name and legacy of Martin Luther, changed me. The common, communion chalice did it. We all drank from the same common chalice in those days. It was a visible sign of our unity in Christ. Whatever issues that we struggled with personally, whatever fears and sins that we brought to the altar, whatever the idiosyncrasies we possessed or possessed us, whatever ethnicity, the common, communion chalice from which we all drank made all those things shrink in size relative to the presence of body and blood of Christ in, with, and the bread and wine.

Indeed I am indebted to my Lutheran church for making me multi-dimensional. But, I had to go to seminary to learn that our Lutheran Church had long done outstanding work among African-Americans. Martin Luther King, Sr., did not have to go the Germany to be inspired by the name and legacy of Martin Luther. In the opening decades of the 20th century, right there in Alabama he could have discovered Luther's name and legacy in Rosa Young. She believed in education for African-Americans. She believed that it was the best way for her people to thrive a generation or so after slavery. She enlisted the aid of Booker T. Washington, who also believed in education for the oppressed people of African descent. Booker T. Washington connected Rosa Young with our church, the forebearer of Lutheran Church--Missouri Synod. Under the auspices of the Lutheran Church, Rosa Young founded Lutheran schools and churches throughout Alabama and Louisiana. In our church, we have given the Lutheran Rosa Young the title: "The First Rosa." The name and legacy of Martin Luther inspired Rosa Young as it would inspire Michael King, Sr. several years later to change his name to Martin Luther King, Sr. Martin Luther's name and legacy gave Rosa Young, you and me a greater appreciation for the name and legacy of Jesus Christ. As long as the Lutheran Church continue to connect people to the name and legacy of Christ, it will indeed be "500 Years and Counting."

Through humor, Garrison Keillor has brought to light Lutherans and their culture:

 Praise heaven, I believe. Praise heaven, I believe.

I'm a Lutheran, a Lutheran guy; it is my belief, I'm a Lutheran guy.

We may have merged with another church, but I'm a Lutheran 'til I die.

We are a modest people, and we never make a fuss.

And it sure would be a better world, If they were all as modest as us.

We do not go in for whooping it up, Or a lot of yikkety-yak.

When we say hello, we avert our eyes, And we always sit in the back.

We sit in the pew where we always sit, And we do not shout Amen.

And if anyone yells or waves their hands, They're not invited back again.

Episcopalians are proud of their faith; You ought to hear them talk.

Who they got? They got Henry the 8th, And we got J.S. Bach.

Henry the 8th, he had six wives Trying to make a son.

J.S. had 23 children, And wives? he had just one.

Henry the 8th'd marry a woman And then her head would drop.

J. S. Bach had all those kids, Cause his organ had no stop.

Praise heaven, I believe. Praise heaven, I believe.

I'm a Lutheran, a Lutheran; it is my belief, I'm a Lutheran guy.

Episcopalians I don't mind, But I'm a Lutheran til I die.

Martin Luther would have loved that little ditty by Garrison Keillor, especially the double entendre referencing the fecundity of Bach, who, among other things, was a great organist and composer. I was tempted to delete that double entrendre, but out of deference to the earthy humor of Luther, I left it in. I know that Luther would have gotten a laugh out of it--perhaps even Bach himself.

Speaking of Luther and Bach, as we celebrate the 500th Anniversary of the Lutheran Reformation, and as we reflect on the legacy of Martin Luther, it is good, right and salutary that we consider the relationship between Luther and Bach, who, arguably, is the greatest manifestation of Luther's legacy. No Luther, no Bach; no Bach, no Mozart, no Beethoven.

Johann Sebastian Bach, the father of Western music, lived in 17th century Germany. Though 200 years apart, Luther and Bach attended the same Latin school (elementary) in Eisenach. During his school days there, Bach could see Wartburg Castle; it was a vivid reminder to him of the year-long residence of the hero of Germany. The castle belonged to the Elector Frederick the Wise who, after Luther's bold stand in the city of Worms in not recanting his teachings, secretly carted Luther away to his castle for safekeeping. Bach adored Luther. His adoration for the reformer is best expressed in his music. I recall a professor in seminary saying that Bach's music is Luther's theology put to music. Luther, the brilliant theologian, was a good musician. He had a great appreciation for music. He said, in fact, that next to the word, music deserves our highest praise. Bach, the brilliant musician, was a good theologian. He immortalized Luther's theology in music.

Inspired by Luther's hymns, moreover, Bach wrote over 200 cantatas. He penned a cantata for just about every Sunday of the Christ half of the Church Year, which includes all the major festivals of the Church Year. So, there's a cantata for every major festival. Following Luther's example, Bach wanted music to be the centerpiece of Lutheran worship. At the top of his cantatas, Bach wrote the letters J.J., which mean Jesu juva, Latin for "Jesus help me!" He ended his cantatas with the letters S.D.G., Latin for "To God alone be the Glory." Indeed we live our lives asking constantly that Jesus help us. Both Luther and Bach were consummate prayer warriors, calling on Jesus to help them in their anxieties. At the end of our lives, we pray that like Luther on his death bed, we, too, may be empowered to confess: "To God alone be glory." Indeed God is the glory into which we die.

The greatest legacy of both Luther and Bach is the singing church, the musical church. Every time we sing with joy the appointed hymns and pray the appointed psalms, we keep their legacy alive, though it is not actually theirs. 500 years later, they would gladly say with us: "It's still about Jesus."

On October 31, Lutherans around the world will commemorate the 500th Anniversary of the Lutheran Reformation, an occasion that will mark Martin Luther nailing his 95 theses on the door of the Wittenberg Church on October 31, 1517, inviting debate among theologians over various theological issues. Little did Luther know that his academic ritual would catapult into the reformation of the Western Church. Indeed once the figurative Pandora's box was opened, there was no controlling where the reformation would go. Once they are spawned, revolutions take on a life of their own. Andreas Carlstadt, for instance, took the reformation in a radical direction where Luther refused to go.

Andreas Carlstsdt was a colleague of Luther on the faculty at Wittenberg University. He was bookish and learned. He lacked, however, Luther's charisma, creative genius and certainly his pastoral gifts. Like Luther and the rest of the faculty at the Wittenberg University, Carlstsdt was committed to the reformation of the Church. After Luther's courageous confession at Worms in 1521, where before Emperor Charles the Fifth he refused to recant his teachings, he was surreptitiously carted away. He remained in hiding for over a year at the Wartburg Castle. It was during Luther's absence away from Wittenberg that Carlstadt's radicalism revealed it had no boundaries. He removed his priestly and professorial clothing and donned the raiment of peasants. He performed the first "reformed" mass. He tossed out of the church the candles, the sacred statuary, the altar and paraments; he removed all vestiges of Catholicism. Carlstadt wanted a pure church. In promoting that pure church, he started from scratch, as if 1500 years of history had not happened. He wanted to sever people's emotional connection to that history and start afresh. In his pursuit of a purified, utopian church, Carlstadt was not led by wisdom. Indeed in his enthusiasm, he trampled on many toes, not caring whose feelings he hurt. Utopian revolutions are whimsical children.

Luther heard at Wartburg what Carlstadt had done at Wittenberg. He was troubled. He made plans to return to Wittenberg to restore order and establish a semblance of balance. Luther refused to engage a war on history. He had no problem with the church universal over its 1500 years of history, for throughout that history Christ came into sharper focus. The Holy Spirit was active in that history bearing witness to Christ. Being the incarnational and sacramental theologian that he was, Luther valued history, especially those times and places where God met humans. The whole 1500 years of the Church's history bore witness to God's epiphanies in history in Word and Sacrament, even amid the ugly episodes of history. History, then, is not merely a boundary where we stop. It is a boundary that invites us to go beyond it to meet Christ, as we learn wisdom from history in its divers manifestations.

In the American public square, we see the spirit of Carlstadt is very much alive. In America today, we see a war on history, displayed in the removal of the monuments dedicated to that history. From whence comes this war on history? I believe that we live in a Godless society. In a Godless society, everything gets politicized, even history. In a Godless society, this life gets absolutized to utopian dimensions, as this life takes the place of God. As the thinking goes, it is important to get this life right through various human techniques, for it is the only life that we have. After death, there is nothing: no forgiveness, no redemption, no eternal life. Hence, there is an impatience fueled by anxiety that this life is all there is; so, the West is hellbent on getting it right. There is no room for the mistakes of history. There is no room for disagreement, no patience for the slow process of political debate in the context of free speech.

Moreover, in a hyper-politicized world spawned by the absence of God, everything becomes debatable, especially history; nothing is left to the chance that it might contradict the utopian narrative, for that narrative, as flimsy as the fig leaves with which Adam and Eve tried to cover themselves, is what unifies the Godless society. Not buying into the utopian narrative, the politically incorrect is surrendered to the grand inquisitor of political correctness. In a Godless society, then, perfection is sought in the political process to fill the void of an eternal God. Perfectionism, unfortunately, is tyranny's child. The spirit of Carlstadt is indeed ever with us.  

The only way to deal with the Carlstadts of the world is to prick a hole in their utopian bubbles, their utopian narratives. We must insist that life is a mixed bag: life is beautiful; life is flawed. We agree with the wisdom of Paul: all people are sinners in need of the redemption of Christ Jesus. This life cannot be perfected either by religion or by politics. We must insist that there is wisdom in history and it must be ever before us, not as a boundary at which to stop, as though they were all evil back then and we are now the enlightened ones. Such thinking neglects that enlightenment is built up over many lifetimes of people who refused to see society's history or their own personal histories as boundaries at which to give pause. Instead, we must see history as a boundary at which something new can begin as we learn from both its exhilarating and painful lessons. We are never free of history and the past that it represents, for the possibilities for the present evolve from that past. Standing at the beginning and end of history is Christ; he is the light amid the darkness. He is the resurrection and the life. He is the culmination of our corporate and private histories.

Pastor’s Page - April 2016

The apocryphal story is told of Jesus’ appearance to a certain fisherman.

“I am Jesus. I died and now I am alive, raised by my Father.”

“No, you’re not Jesus. Please leave – you’re scaring the fish,” said the old crotchety fisherman.

“I see that you’re full of doubts like my disciple Thomas. What would you have me do to prove to you that I’m Jesus?”

“Walk across this river,” said the angler.

 So Jesus starts walking across the river. After a few steps, he begins to sink and soon disappears under water. Later, he swims back to shore. “Ha, there you are,” said the fisherman. You’re not Jesus, the savior of the world. Jesus can walk on water.”

Jesus responds, “Well, I used to be able to walk on water until I got these holes in my feet.”

A little Easter humor to remind us of a few truths about Easter. First, Jesus was raised by the Father. It was his body that he showed to his disciples and especially to Thomas, whom he invites to place his hand in his pierced side. His resurrected body became the source of peace for Thomas and the other disciples and to the many others, including Paul, to whom Jesus appeared.

Some speak of the resurrection in spiritual terms, as though Jesus’ appearance to his disciples was an inward, psychological experience, not in any way objective. The evidence of the empty tomb and his appearances to hundreds of people whose lives were radically changed prove that his resurrection was indeed objective and real. He showed them his body:  his hands and feet injured by the nails that the Roman soldiers drove through them. Nothing other than this Easter miracle can explain the miraculous change in the apostles, enabling them to emerge from their hiding places of fear to preach the gospel that has changed the world.

Also, Christ’s injuries assure us that in connection with Jesus through Baptism, we shall live. Death is not our final word. Christ’s resurrection is our promise that no bodily injury, no mortal wound will separate us from the love of Christ. As he was raised, we shall be raised. According to St. Paul in 1 Corinthians 15, because of Christ’s resurrection we shall be given a spiritual body. If ever there was an oxymoron, then spiritual body is certainly one. That makes no sense. What it means is this:  as we have a body in this life to relate to the people and conditions of this live, so we shall be given a spiritual body to relate to the conditions of the next life. Paul cannot conceive of existence without a body, because a body is a sign of dependency on God and interdependency with others. The resurrection of Jesus – the actual raising of his body – assures us of this promise. God is moving history in such a way in Christ Jesus that his resurrection continues to influence human history and the whole universe, so that God will be all in all.

Pastor’s Page  - March 2016

There is a Peanuts cartoon in which Lucy and Linus are walking along to school, having a conversation. Linus confides to Lucy that he wants to be a doctor when he grows up.

Lucy:  “You, a doctor! Ha! That’s a big laugh! You could never be a doctor and you know why! You don’t love mankind!”

Linus: “Oh, but I do love mankind. It’s people that I can’t stand.”

Indeed there are many who like the idea of doing something more than the reality of doing it. A wise pundit once counseled Americans not to elect as president the candidate who had a childhood dream of being president. Such a person may have a romanticized view of the office, enamored more so with the idea of being president than the reality of performing the office.

Like anything else in life, the presidency has its many moments where the reality of the job does not square with one’s ideal conceptions of it. So much of church work is especially susceptible to that. We can wax brilliant about our vision and mission. We can articulate Jesus’ passion for humanity and how we as a church continue to share in that passion. But, when it comes to putting that passion into practical garb, the reality always seems to fall short of the ideal. Disappointment is par for the course in the life of the church.

Disappointment is what the first disciples of Jesus experienced on that first Good Friday. The crucified Jesus shattered whatever hopes they might have garnered in their three years with Jesus. Each had his own hope, which he began to articulate more boldly the closer that Jesus approached Jerusalem to meet his fate. James and John had the temerity to allow their mother to ask Jesus to seat them at his left and right when he came into his kingdom.

All the disciples harbored hopes like that. Jesus taught that the one who was to be great among them had to be the others’ servant as he was a servant. His teachings, however, often went over their heads.

Yet, never did they want to see their Lord on a cross, which was a cursed thing for Jewish people. The Jews and the Romans crucified upstart political leaders to give a clear statement to the populace that their movements landed in abject failure. Jesus on the cross was a great failure, a great disappointment.

Nevertheless, it was here in the disappointment of the cross that our faith would have its beginning, for it was here that God negated the negative and thereby produced a positive that launched Peter, James and John beyond their Good Friday tears. Good Friday proved to be an inadequate horizon for hope. Good Friday was a horizon of despair. If Good Friday were the final chapter, then we would be a people most to be pitied.

There is, however, a lovelier horizon in which Good Friday makes sense. Before we get to that lovelier horizon, we have to traverse the 40 days of Lent.

What to do when reality does not square with the ideal? What to do with disappointment? Does the Lenten Season have any answers to those questions?

Lent returns us to the cross, the biggest disappointment in history. For the people who taunted Jesus on the cross, he was a disappointment, for he never came down from the cross. However, for the Father of Jesus, God was in Christ Jesus reconciling the world to himself. God worked a good for all of humanity from the cross of Christ.

Lent disciplines you to traverse your journey with hope that in the horizon of any cross in your life there is an empty tomb. Lent does this by inviting you to die to yourself and open you up to God’s infinite possibilities. With such a God living with us, how could we not feel hopeful in all circumstances of life?

Pastor's Page - February 2016

The month of February is the month of love. Romantic love is celebrated on Valentine’s Day. Patriotism, or love of country, is celebrated on Lincoln and Washington’s birthdays. And, on Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, we experience divine love in the cross of Jesus. Throughout the month of February, we bask in love. “Love makes the world go round.” “What the world needs is love.”

Ironically, the month with the fewest days is the month that occasions us to celebrate and practice the value that goes the longest in bettering our lives. Love is at the center of our mission statement, of which, we should remind ourselves: “The Mission of St. Luke Lutheran Church is to Make Loving Disciples.” That is our corporate mission. Each of us, how-ever, has to embrace that as an individual mission as well. It is futile to make loving disciples at church and not do so at home with our spouses and children. First and foremost, we must strive to make our relationships more loving. Every so often, I listen to Dr. Laura and Dr. Phil; and, over the years, I have culled information from them that might be of benefit to us in creating loving relationships at home. The following list offers some tangible, self-evident ways to be more loving to your significant other. In the parentheses, I illustrate how Jesus practiced that principle in his relationships.

 1)    Great relationships require time investments. (Jesus spent three years with his disciples.)

 2)    Practice surrender. Find out what your partner wants and needs and offer it. (Jesus asked some whom he healed what they wanted. He gave it to them. He offers his life for us.)

 3)    Own your thoughts and behavior—the importance of the will and choosing to do the right thing based on values (Jesus said of himself, “I lay down my life of my own will.”)

 4)    Talk is important. (Jesus had a private conversation with Nicodemus.)

 5)    Sometimes a loving intimate touch is more important than talk. (Jesus touched those whom he healed.)

 6)    Sexuality lives in your inner child—play and laugh. (This does not apply, though you can imagine Jesus being playful in the appropriate context and with the appropriate people.)

 7)    Instead of arguing, reflect your partner’s feelings back to him or her. (Jesus did not argue with the Jewish leaders who caught the woman in adultery.)

Pastor's Page - January 2016

Psalm 90:1-12, attributed to Moses, is a sober way to begin the New Year. It puts life into perspective. The great liberator prays:

Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations. Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God. You turn men back to dust, saying, “Return to dust, O sons of men.” For a thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night. You sweep men in the sleep of death; they are like the new grass of the morning—though in the morning it springs up new, by evening it is dry and withered. We are consumed by your anger and terrified by your indignation. You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence. All our days pass away under your wrath; we finish our years with a moan. The length of our days is seventy years - or eighty, if we have the strength; yet their span is but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass away. Who knows the power of your anger? For your wrath is as great as the fear that is due you. Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. (New International Version)

Pastor Robert Wolff, former pastor of Immanuel Lutheran Church, Chino has apparently taken verse 12 of Psalm 90 literally. At a pastors’ circuit meeting several years ago, he said to me, “Happy 5th Anniversary, Tim. Today is your 5th Anniversary as pastor of St. Luke.”

“How did you know that, Bob?” I said.

“Right here in my book. I write down all the significant dates that I experience. When I attend a pastor’s installation or any special day in the life of the church, I write it down in my little book.”

Pastor Wolff’s “little book” is rather strange. Indeed he has a record of all the significant worship services that he has attended over his professional career. More than that, he has marked the number of days that he has lived. He can give you the exact number of days that he has been on God’s planet. “How many days have you lived?” On that day back in July, it was over 23,000. Every morning when he arises, he marks that day as another that the Lord has given him as a gift. He numbers it. And, at the end of the day, he writes down the highlights and lowlights of that day.

“How long have you been numbering the days of your life?”

“Ever since confirmation,” Pastor Bob said.

“Why have you done this?” I asked.

“The Bible tells me so.”

Would to God that we all would get to that place where our actions are informed by the word of God. When Pastor Bob told me, “The Bible tells me so,” I thought of that song that we all sang as children: “Jesus loves me; this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” The heart that is open to the wisdom of God is the heart that is open to hear the word and to obey it in simple, childlike trust.

None of us has any idea what 2016 will bring us. All that we can do is number our days and reflect on what that day has brought us in God’s grace and love. To properly number our days in 2016 is to begin each day with thanksgiving and to end it therewith. Such an approach to numbering our days opens us to receive the wisdom that we need for the days ahead. God bless your 2016 .

Pastor’s Page - November 2015

The story is told of two men walking through a field, when, all of a sudden, an enraged bull spotted them. They darted to the nearest fence. The angry bull chased them in hot pursuit. It was soon apparent that they would not make it. Terrified, one said to the other, “Pray, Man! We’re in for it!”

The other answered, “I can’t! I’ve never prayed in public!”

“But you must! The bull is gaining on us!”

“All right,” said the other huffing and puffing. “I’ll say the only prayer that I know, the one that my father used to pray at the dinner table. ‘O Lord, for what we are about to receive, make us thankful.’”

There are many things for which to be thankful. Being chased by an enraged bull is certainly not one of them. The epistle reading on Thanksgiving Day is Philippians 4:4-7. Paul says in that classic text, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”

As Christians, we are a people of thanksgiving. Thanksgiving informs our prayers. To pray with thanksgiving is to pray with confidence as we are empowered by the Holy Spirit, whose fundamental ministry is to infuse us with joy. Our core ritual — Holy Communion — is also informed by thanksgiving.

In fact, another name for Holy Communion is Eucharist. Eucharist is a Greek word meaning thanksgiving. As we remember all that Christ has done for us, we do so in a spirit of thanksgiving, ever confident that Jesus carried his cross to Calvary for us. Greater love has no than to lay his life for his friends. The only response to such a selfless act is thanksgiving. Indeed we are a people of thanksgiving.

Inasmuch as we are such a people, does that make the observance of a national day of thanksgiving superfluous, which is what some quasi Christians? Of course not! There is indeed a place for thanking God for our country, for it is the place wherein we are free to actualize our gifts for the good of ourselves and others. Our country makes it possible for us to be fruitful; and, for that, we are most thankful. There are many things for which to be thankful and our nation is certainly one of those.

Another question: do we thank God for everything? First of all, Paul is not telling us what to pray for, but how to pray. How you pray demonstrates the focus of your mind.

Jesus teaches, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Who are the pure in heart? They are the ones who have the right focus; they focus on God. Because they do, they see God in everything. Let me amplify further. Latter in Matthew, Jesus says that the eye is the lamp of the body. If is darkened and ineffective, then the whole body is made vulnerable. If the eye, the lamp, is fully functional, then there will be a source of light for the whole body.

The spiritual eye has light if it suffused with the light of Christ. The light of Christ comes to you in Word and Sacrament. To seek first the kingdom is to seek Christ in Word and Sacrament. You know that your seeking has yielded great fruit when there is an abundance of love, peace and joy in your life. Prayerful words spawned by love, peace and joy is how we should pray. Love, peace and joy in the kingdom are ever present in all the circumstances of life.

Indeed we are not thankful for the tragedies that occur in life. I heard a counselor say that for a woman to be healed of the trauma of rape she has to get to the place where she is thankful to God even for the rape. Of course, that is pure foolishness. That is masochistic.

So much falsehood gets passed off in the cloak of pious language. We must be critical of platitudes masquerading as truth. Amid life’s tragedies, nevertheless, Christ is present to bless and empower you and that is a process between you and God in Christ Jesus. Over time as you engage the mourning process, God will speak the perfect word to you in your affliction. Amid a tragedy, it is futile to ask why. The question why never yields satisfactory answers. It leads to bitterness and anger.

In the face of tragedy, we should ask how God will get us through the tragedy. God, ever faithful, will be present, right next to you as friend, to aid, comfort, heal and over time to give enlightenment. “Yea though I walk through valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me.” Wherever God is, there is always peace love and joy.

Pastor's Page - April 2015

On April 14, Abraham Lincoln awoke in a good mood. Several days before at Appomattox, General Robert E. Lee, commander of the South, surrendered to General Ulysses Grant, commander of the North.

For the first time in five years, Lincoln had some breathing room, breathing room in which to think and plan. But, before any serious thinking on the future course of the nation and its reconstruction, Lincoln wanted to laugh. He wanted to try to put behind him the tragedy of a war whose outcome was always in doubt.

He thought a night out at Ford’s Theatre would provide the appropriate venue for some needed diversion. Lincoln, however, received strong indications that he should not go out that night together with his wife, Mary. The Grants were supposed to accompany them to the theatre, but they cancelled. Just after a meeting earlier in the day, Lincoln’s secretary of war, Edwin Stanton, begged him not to attend the play. He was afraid of rebel retaliation.

Later that afternoon, as Lincoln and his wife took a carriage ride through Washington, Mary told him that she was not feeling well and thought that they should not attend the play in the evening. Lincoln responded that he, too, was tired and queried whether they should go out. William Crook, Lincoln’s private bodyguard, pleaded with the president not to go to Ford’s Theatre.

As fate would have it, the president and his wife attended the play, “Our American Cousin.” During the third act, Lincoln held Mary’s hand. They drew close to each other, which they rarely did during those tragic five years of civil war and the death of their beloved son, Willie, who was most like Lincoln in wit and intelligence. They relaxed. They laughed.

“Sic semper tyrannis!” shouted John Wilkes, the lead actor, as he stood behind Lincoln and shot the fatal bullet behind the president’s right ear. The next morning, President Abraham Lincoln died.

I have often wondered why in magazine advertisements for wristwatches invariably the hands are pointed at 10:10. The reason for that could be as simple as 10:10 am/pm is the least stressful part of the day. I would like to think that watches in magazine advertisements are pointed at 10:10 out of deference to Abraham Lincoln. It was at 10:10pm that Lincoln was shot on April 14. Perhaps that is a way to commemorate America’s favorite president.

Also, I have often pondered whose idea it was to make the dreaded tax day April 15, the day on which Lincoln died. How cynical! In any case, on April 2015 America will commemorate the 150th Anniversary of the death of Lincoln. Just after Lincoln died, Edwin Stanton, the same man who warned him not to go out on that fateful April 14, said in earshot of friends and colleagues standing at Lincoln’s death bed, “He now belongs to the ages.”

As a martyred president, Lincoln became influential in death, as his martyred status became currency in political debates. Lincoln’s martyred image was evoked for everything from civic responsibility to paying taxes. And, for those who study his life, he is a most fascinating person that still intrigues us.

If Lincoln belongs to the ages, then Jesus belongs to the eternal ages. Like Lincoln, he was martyred in April; in fact, Jesus died on April 3, 33 according to some scholars. Unlike Lincoln, he got up from death. After three days Jesus arose from the dead. As the living and reigning Lord, seated at the right hand of the Father, he continues to influence the universe. As Paul says, he must subject all enemies under his feet. Then he will hand the kingdom over the Father, so that God may be all in all.

Every Sunday we commemorate Christ’s death and resurrection. His memory and his virtue as a force field continues among God’s people gathered around Word and Sacrament. Every Sunday is Easter Sunday. Nevertheless, it is most apropos to set aside a day to fully celebrate what God has accomplished for us in Christ Jesus. On Easter Sunday, we greet each other: “Christ is Risen!” The response: “He is risen indeed!”

Pastor’s Page - March 2015

The story is told of a farmer who wanted to dig a well to water his farm. After digging for some time in a place recommended to him by water diviners, he found no water. He was frustrated. He had dug only 15 feet.

Along came another man who laughed at the farmer for digging there. He pointed to another place and said, “Over there is where you ought to be digging.” The farmer went to that spot and dug and dug. In fact, he dug for 30 feet. Still, he found no water. Very tired, he took the advice of an old neighbor who assured him that there was water at yet another location.

After being frustrated by his neighbor’s advice, finding no water, the farmer sat forlorn on the porch. His wife came out of the house. Seeing his crestfallen face, she said, “Where are your brains?! Does anyone sink a well that way? Stay in one place and go deeper and deeper there.” The next day, refreshed and renewed, the farmer spent all day on one hole. He found abundant water.

We live in a world of religious seekers. Seekers hear of a phenomenal outpouring of the Spirit up in Canada. They swarm up there and learn to howl like animals. They hear an Orange County preacher pronounce, “Live a purpose-driven life.” They flock to his church, giving him 15 minutes of fame. After a month of purposeful living, they return to their helter/skelter ways of living. They hear the pecuniary-minded televangelist taunt a 100% return on the money (10% tithe) that they give to his ministry. Lured by such returns, they “sow seeds” into the televangelist’s ministry expecting a financial windfall. Soon, it dawns on them that the only one realizing such a wind-fall is the televangelist exploiting his/her vast audience. As the Bell Curve suggests and every televangelist knows, there is always 10% of an audience that still believes that Elvis is alive.

Indeed we live in a nation of seekers. Church growth experts encourage congregations to make their worship “seeker friendly.” “Tone down the theological talk,” they say. “Get rid of the vestments and candles. You may even consider jettisoning all religious symbols, especially the cross at the front of the church.”

Many, however, in our Christian community need to hear the frank talk of the farmer’s wife, “Stay in one place and go deeper and deeper.” We need to hear that as well.

That is what we hope to accomplish during Lent. We intentionally slow the pace and dig deeper and deeper into God’s word where we are. I commend a tool to you that can help you with going deeper and deeper. It is a spiritual practice called Lectio Divina, “Divine Reading.” It is an ancient way of praying from the 4th century A.D. Martin Luther knew of it and may have used it in his prayer practice. Add it to your Lenten journey.

Before you sit down to pray, choose a verse from the Bible on which you may want to pray. Set the Bible next to you within arm’s reach. Lectio Divina has five phases. You can do it for as long as you want:

Phase One (Relaxation): Sit with both feet on the floor and your hands in your lap. Inhale and exhale measured breaths. That’s it, breathe slowly and deeply without hyperventilating. What you inhale, you exhale. Mentally tell your body to relax. Where you sense stress in your body, tell that part of your body to relax.

Phase Two (Reading): Staying in one place, pick up the Bible and read aloud and slowly the verse that you chose. Read it 7 times. Pause between each reading to let the words sink into your heart.

Phase Three (Meditation): During the reading you were drawn to a word, a phrase or maybe an image. As you resume taking measured breaths with your feet on the floor and your hands in your lap, try not to move. Mentally say that word to yourself. As you inhale, mentally say the word to yourself. In the case of an image that you might have seen during the reading, concentrate on that as you breathe.

Phase Four (Prayer): Now mentally ask God why you were drawn to that word, phrase or image. What’s going on in your life that may have prompted a focus on on word? Ask questions of God, and wait for answers. God will answer in your voice. Have a dialogue with God.

Phase Five (Contemplation): After you have sufficiently prayed, now rest in God’s grace and love. Enjoy being in the moment: take in the sounds about you. Be fully present in the moment.

Her grandmother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each under a high fire. Soon, the pots came to a boil. Into the first pot she placed carrots. Into the second pot she placed an egg. And, into the third pot she placed some ground coffee beans. She let the pots continue to boil. She never said a word. Twenty minutes later, she turned off all the burners. She took the carrots out of the pot and placed them in a bowl. She took the egg out of the pot and placed it also in a bowl. Finally, she ladled the coffee beans out of the pot and placed them in a bowl.

Turning to her granddaughter, she said, “Tell me what you see.”

“Carrots, an egg and coffee,” she replied. Her grandmother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did. She noticed that they were soft. Her grandmother asked her to take the egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally, the grandmother asked her granddaughter to sip the coffee. She smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. She asked, “What does it all mean?”

Her grandmother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrots went into the water strong, hard and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, they softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile before going into the boiling water. Its thin, outer shell had protected its liquid interior; but, after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were placed in the boiling water, they changed the water. The granddaughter’s eyes brightened.

“Which are you?” the wise grandmother asked her granddaughter.

Indeed before hitting the boiling water of adversity, some are like the carrots. They are hardened in their world-view, which sometimes has no room for God. They are firmly ensconced in their intellectual and emotional systems, thinking that such systems will give them security and wellbeing. Along the way, life happens. Adversity, ever inherent in life, softens them and makes them flimsy.

Others are like the egg. The adversity of life has the opposite effect on them: they get hardened. They may have at one time faced life with optimism and broadmindedness. They got hardened, however. I believe that God must have a special mercy for the jaded, frustrated idealist, people who really wanted the best for the world but got shut down.

Who are people like the coffee beans? Who are the people whom the adversity of life does not embitter, but better?

You do not have to go very far to find them. They are right in our midst at St. Luke Lutheran Church. In my mind’s eye, I can see several people who are like ground coffee beans. There is no whining in them. At one time, there may have been appropriate lament about their circumstances, but they did not stay there. They got back up. A sweet, powerful aroma follows them. They have become signs of hope for us who have fallen on hard times, heralding to us that difficult situations and circumstances need not harden us against life’s beauty or soften our moral fiber in acting forthrightly on behalf of Christ’s kingdom of peace, love and joy.

It is love that gives the ground coffee beans among us their sweet aroma. They are wounded healers having been ground down by the circumstances of life. Yet, whenever adversity touches them, they explode with the most pleasant aroma, blessing instead of cursing; loving instead of hating; listening deeply and compassionately instead of standing on a soapbox of absolutism and dualism.

Both Jesus and Paul teach us not to be overcome by evil; instead, we are to overcome evil with the good. The ultimate good is love. That is a clarion call not to let life’s circumstances change our core.

The cross of Jesus overcame evil with the good. During this month of love, let us reflect on the power of God’s love in Christ Jesus as we continue our commitment of making loving disciples who are not overcome by their circumstances, but who overcome all such circumstances with a good and loving disposition. Life really is in how you see it: how you see it informed by this loving disposition.

• Resolved never to lose one moment of time, but to improve in the most profitable way I possibly can.
• Resolved to live with all my might while I do live.
• Resolved never to do anything, which I should be afraid to do if were the last hour of my life.
• Resolved never to do anything out of revenge.
• Resolved never to speak evil of anyone.
• Resolved to study scriptures.
• Resolved to ask myself at the end of the day, week, month and year wherein I could possibly have done better.

• He refused to provide for the proper work environment, so that his sole employee could be productive.
  
• He shuns a Christmas dinner invitation.
  
• He shouts at charity workers in the street outside his place of business. 

•  during worship you hold your hymnal open but never look at it.
•  you don’t make eye contact with someone in the hallway because you think it’s impolite.
•  you can say your meal prayer in one breath.
•  Bach is your favorite composer because he also was a Lutheran.
•  your house is a mess because you’re saved by grace, not works.
•  you think an ELCA bride and a LCMS groom make for a mixed marriage.
•  you feel guilty about not feeling guilty.
•  you celebrate Halloween.

Humans in most cultures have made this association since time immemorial.  This fear has produced universal symbols of the dark side, places we dare not darken with our presence.  Halloween gives permission to people to go where they would not otherwise go 364 days out of the year. 

Humans need this.  Halloween serves as a safe place where people in our death-denying culture can face their biggest fears and play with them, taunt them, thereby showing that they have power over them.  Halloween represents our culture’s walk on the dark side.  Every culture has a way to reckon with the dark side. 

Jesus, however, gives the assurance that no psychologically-derived holiday can give.  Jesus is the light of the world.  In his presence, the darkness recedes.  Indeed life haunts us.  Halloween uncovers our deepest fears; Christ reveals our deepest comfort in his life, death and resurrection—his victory over the disintegrating powers of darkness.  Jesus is: Christus Victor. 

There are still dark corners of the soul where science in all its enlightenment cannot reach.  Christ, however, can go there.  His cross means that he is willing to enter any darkness, to fall to great depths with us to lift us to the heights of new life in him. 

• The 8th best way to a healthy brain:  Smile. According to Newberg, the mere act of smiling helps to interrupt mood disorders and strengthens the brain’s neural ability to maintain a positive outlook on life. Cynicism shortens your life. According to a 30-year study by the Mayo Clinic, pessimism was associated with a shorter life span and poorer mental health. So, smile!

• The 7th best way to a healthy brain:  Stay Intellectually Active. Intellectual and cognitive stimulation strengthens the neural connections throughout the frontal lobe and improves your ability to communicate, solve problems and make rational decisions concerning your behavior. Nearly every age-related, cognitive disability is related to the functioning of the frontal lobe. Exercise the cortex through memory and mnemonic exercises, strategy-based games (chess and checkers), and imagination; read books (fiction or non-fiction) or listen to recorded books, and watch education and sci-ence channels. As long as learning is fun and meaningful, it will improve your brain.

• The 6th best way to a healthy brain:  Consciously Relax. At some point in your day, mentally scan your body while taking a few deep breaths. Where in your body you feel tension, mentally tell those places to relax. As you do this, use music. Music (especially classical) sharpens your cognitive skills.

• The 5th best way to a healthy brain:  Yawn. According Newberg, several recent brain-scan studies have shown that yawning evokes a unique neural activity in the area of the brain that is directly involved in generating social awareness and creating feelings of empathy. Yawning also brings you into a heightened state of cognitive awareness. That gives me a whole new take on you who yawn during my sermons.

• The 4th best way to a healthy brain:  Meditate. 20 minutes of meditation or contemplation affect your nervous system in ways that enhance physical and emotional health. Antistress hormones and neurochemicals are released during meditation, as well as pleasure-enhancing and depression-decreasing neurotransmitters like dopamine and serotonin.

• The 3rd best way to a healthy brain:  Aerobic Exercise. Walking, yoga and Zumba strengthen every part of the brain.

• The 2nd best way to a healthy brain:  Dialogue With Others. Dialogue requires social interaction. The more social ties you have, the less your cognitive abilities will decline. The proper content of brain-enhancing dialogue is abstract things like God, religion, spirituality, theology, physics, or art. Bible study fits this bill.

• The best way to a healthy brain:  Faith. An optimistic attitude, which faith helps to produce, reduces stress-eliciting cortisol levels in your body. Viktor Frankl, a survivor of a Nazi concentration camp during World War II, notes that those who were not defeated and lost their humanity during Nazi atrocities were those who maintained faith and hope. Faith is a powerful force that we too often take for granted when things are going well.

Pastor's Page for July 2014

Humorist Garrison Keillor, our present-day Mark Twain, says the following about the summer doldrums: “When it comes to the summer doldrums, a person’s brain shrinks to pea-size and one forgets about the lofty, moral values and takes the short view; so, I turn on the air conditioning and burn up precious non-renewable resources for my own comfort and pleasure even if it means that glaciers shrink and the Artic tern is threatened; I just want cool air to blow on me as I sip a cool drink.”

Indeed summer is most conducive to doing nothing; where a tall glass of lemonade and daydreams are in order. There are certain places in the country where you may not want to be during the summer doldrums. Standing in a long line at Disney World is certainly one of those places. If ever there were a foretaste of hell, it would be Florida’s heat and humidity.

Summer, though hot and unbearable at times, is supposed to be the time of the year when we focus on very little, so that we can enjoy the fruit of a good year. It is the time when, unapologetically, we go at a slower pace. Indeed the brain seems to shrink, as we cannot focus too deeply for too long on anything that the media deem important.

Living in a climate like ours in Southern California, Jesus would have understood our summer doldrums and the need for rest during such times. After his disciples returned from doing kingdom work, Jesus encouraged them to step aside from the crowd and rest.

We can imagine Jesus having prepared food for them to aid their rest. In the Old Testament, there is precedent for God serving people: God fed the Israelites as they crossed the desert; God also fed some of the prophets when they found themselves in desperate straits.

It is God who commands us to rest, making it the third most important commandment. We dare not spiritualize this commandment. Under Martin Luther’s influence, we have limited rest to spiritual rest. God, however, is concerned that your total being rest:  mind, body and soul. We have to rest our bodies. God, then, has given us the summer doldrums, the time of year when we slow down the frenetic pace of the rest of the year and rest.

In Ephesians, Paul lauds the breath, the height, the length and the depth of God’s love. Indeed in God we live, move and have our being, for in all the seasons of our lives we experience the love of God in Christ Jesus — even when we are doing nothing but throwing back a few glasses of lemonade during the summer doldrums.

It was June 19, 1865 that Union soldiers, led by Major General Gordon Granger, landed at Galveston, Texas with the news that the war had ended and that the enslaved were now free. This was two and a half years after President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863. The Emancipation Proclamation had little impact on slaves in Texas and the deep South because of the paucity of union soldiers to enforce the executive order. It is one thing to promulgate laws; it quite another to enforce them. So, in theory the slaves were free; in reality, however, they were not. With the surrender of General Robert E. Lee at Appomattox, Virginia in April 1865, and the arrival of Granger’s regiment, national forces were finally strong enough to enforce the Emancipation Proclamation throughout the South.

 At the end of slavery, black Texans posited several theories to explain the two-and-half-year delay. It was said that the messenger with the news of their freedom was murdered on his way down to Texas. Others proffered the theory that the news was deliberately withheld by enslavers to maintain their labor force. And, the federal troops actually waited for the slave owners to reap the benefits of one, last, cotton harvest before going onto to Texas to enforce the Emancipation Proclamation. Of course, the best explanation was that President Lincoln’s authority over the rebellious states was always in question. It took, in fact, the death of over 600,000 men to change the political climate that would ensure the efficacy of his Emancipation Proclamation throughout the whole country. 

As you can imagine, the reaction of the enslaved to the news of their freedom ranged from shock to outright jubilation. The newly freed traveled north to rejoin family members in Oklahoma, Arkansas and points further north. Some traveled west to forge a new life as cowboys. Wherever the newly freed went, they rehearsed the story of how freedom came to them, how God moved with a mighty hand to intervene in the affairs of humanity to right a horrible wrong. 

Juneteenth occasions a range of activities for African-Americans who celebrate it: rodeos, fishing, barbecuing and baseball. It continues to be highly revered in Texas. The day, moreover, invites focus on prayer, self-improvement, and family, as many family reunions occur on or near Juneteenth.

 Some Christians are like the slaves in Texas. For one reason or another, they have not got-ten the news that in Christ Jesus they are free, free from sin, death and the devil. In theory they are free; in the reality of their lives, however, they are still enslaved: enslaved to guilt, to anxiety and worry, caught up in bad habits that surrender their self-control and freedom. 

Enter the Holy Spirit. It is the Holy Spirit’s role to convict us of sin, to challenge us to live as free people in Christ Jesus, to empower us through Word and Sacrament to bear tangible fruit of love in all that we do. The Holy Spirit is like Major Gordon Granger who proclaimed to the people of Texas: “In accordance with the Emancipation Proclamation, all slaves are free!” The Holy Spirit: “In accordance with the cross of Christ Jesus, all slaves to sin, death and the devil are free!” 

The long season of Pentecost commences on Pentecost Sunday. It is indeed a necessarily long season wherein the Holy Spirit wins back the territory of your soul and frees it up for Christ. The Holy Spirit ensures that you get the message to live free in Christ.

Pastor's Page for May 2014

The story is told of a man on a long flight home.  The first sign of imminent danger occurred when the seat belt light lit and pinged.  Soon thereafter, a voice came over the intercom, “We shall not be serving beverages now, as there are strong turbulences up ahead.  Please remain in your seats.”  The anticipated turbulences hit the plane with fury, whipping it from side to side. 

 The man looked about the cabin, seeing that his fellow passengers were visibly agitated.  A little later, the voice came over the intercom again, “We shall not be serving the meal at this time, as there are still strong turbulences up ahead.”  The man dared to look out the window.  In the dark night, lightening flashed.  It looked ominous.  The plane jolted about as though it were a bottle riding on the powerful waves of an ocean.  Powerful wind currents lifted the plane up and then dropped it.  It felt like the plane was crashing.  Some passengers were visibly sick; some screamed; others prayed.  The future looked bleak. 

Then the man spied a little girl who sat with her feet beneath her in her seat.  She was calmly reading a book.  She was oblivious to what was happening in the cabin.  She would close her eyes, savoring what she had just read.  Then she would smile and hum with delight.  Then she would open her eyes again and read.  The man could hardly believe his eyes.  When the plane got out of the turbulences and landed, understandably all the passengers hurried to disembark the plane.  The man, however, lingered, hoping to get a chance to speak with the little girl.  He approached her and commented on the rough flight.  He asked how it was that she seemed so calm and collected during the violent turbulences.  The sweet, little girl said, “Sir, my dad is the pilot and he is taking me home.”

Would to God that we could handle life’s storms like that little girl, namely with a sense of equanimity and confidence!  Would to God that we could sit calm and trust that God will do right by us!  The little girl knew what the others in the plane did not know.  She knew and trusted the pilot.  That knowledge gave her security.  Can we live with such security?  How do we move from fear to faith?

Knowledge is indeed power.  Knowledge is especially powerful over fears and anxieties.  As we live out our calling as an Easter people, what is it that we know?  Of course, we know that we shall die.  It is appointed to us all once to die.  We are brilliant flowers that bloom in the daylight; yet, we only have a moment in the sun.  Then we wither and die.  Of course, God never intended death to be determinative.  Death came into the world through sin.  Sin, death and the devil are chaos monsters over which we have no power.  God alone has to wage battle against these enemies of humanity, which God does in Christ Jesus.  He who knew no sin became sin for us to save us from the law’s condemnation.  Indeed, we know that we shall die.  But, we also know that we shall live.  Being baptized and having received Christ Jesus as our savior, we share in his victory over sin, death and the devil.  He is the first fruit of many who shall rise from the dead victorious like him.  We know those two facts unequivocally.

If we know the above, then from whence comes fear?  It comes packaged with this life. Mark Twain said it best, “All say, ‘How hard it is that we have to die’—a strange complaint coming from the mouths of people who have had to live.”  This life inspires fear and it shrouds us all.  We can never be free of its tentacles.  Not only is fear part and parcel of this life, so is the resurrected Christ.  The perfect love of Christ casts out all fear.  Mary Magdalene and another Mary went to Jesus’ tomb because of love and devotion to him.  When they got there, they saw that the tomb was empty.  An angel descended from heaven and sat at the entrance of the tomb.  He tells them not to be afraid.  Instead, they are to go and tell Jesus’ disciples that he is risen from the dead and that he will see them in Galilee.  The Marys make haste to do just that.  Along the way, however, Jesus meets them in a most serendipitous way. 

That story is a metaphor for the journey from fear to faith.  We are on our way to Galilee, where we shall see Jesus and all the saints.  We do not have an abiding place here on earth.  Along the way to Galilee, Jesus has a way of surreptitiously meeting us in Word and Sacrament.  We are to be ready to meet him, as he promised where two or more are gathered in his name he is there.  Wherever Jesus is, his perfect love casts out all fear.  The way to deal with life’s endemic fear is the perfect love of the resurrected Christ.  In that love we must learn to rest and be so empowered by such resting that we become like that little girl who trusted the pilot of the plane, her father.  God is the pilot of your life.  He will pilot you through the turbulences of life and land you beyond your doubts and fears to life eternal. 

 Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  This we know.