"Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep." (Romans 12.15)

Alas, I cannot. On this night I cannot rejoice with those who are rejoicing. Some are friends, friends going on decades. Some are those who I still care about, even though "The Issue" has strained bonds of friendship, even broken some of those bonds perhaps past repairing. Some are those who I have come to respect for their tenacity, their struggle, their courage, their vulnerability, and even their (at times) wiliness. Some I pray for by name. Some I despair of ever understanding. Some I know will always be antagonists (and I that to them).

All, I believe, are brothers and sisters in Christ.

It is complicated. It is painful. The Church Council of the ELCA has taken action on matters given to it by the Churchwide Assembly from August 2009. I cannot accept those actions and stay in the ELCA. I must accept those actions if I am to stay in the ELCA. I don't know what accepting those actions might, will, must mean. I don't know how to accept those actions. I don't know what not accepting those actions and staying in the ELCA might mean. I don't know what it will look like. I don't know if I will be allowed to stay, not accepting those actions.

The revisions of the documents Vision and Expectations, Definitions for Guidelines and Discipline, and the Candidacy Manual have been adopted by the Church Council late in the afternoon of Saturday, April 10. And those who have worked so hard and long for this moment rejoice.

I do not wish to reject those who rejoice. I struggle with Romans 12. I struggle to understand what Paul's words say to this time, to me in this time. I am not exegeting; I am dwelling in those words. My conscience is not at peace.

May those who rejoice find the honor they have long sought in this church.

May those, like myself, who do not, may we find the way to do what is honorable among all.

But. I must be honest with what I believe. I cannot rejoice.

Jesus, meet us in the places of rupture and unraveling.

The Parable of the Lost Son -- A Reflection

"And Jesus said, 'There was a man who had two sons.'" (Luke 15.11)

That is the starting point for the story that is most commonly known as the Story of the Prodigal Son. The prodigal is the younger son, the one who brazenly asks for his share of the inheritance, leaves and squanders it, comes to disgrace and abject poverty and then, on the verge of starvation, dares to return home hoping to be taken back in as a servant. Instead, the father welcomes the younger son back, throwing a feast in honor of his return, rejoicing that the son who was dead was alive, the lost had been found.

And as has been famously preached on by so many, including by myself at times, the story does not end there. The second of the two sons, unmentioned until now, the elder brother, comes back, refuses to join the party, but stays outside rejecting the whole homecoming scene. The father comes out and entreats the son to come in, to accept that while the father loves him for his loyalty and faithfulness, that it is necessary to rejoice that this brother has been returned to life, that his presence in the family has been restored.

And there the parable ends.

Most preachers perceive, and rightly I believe, that the story is about the older brother. Probably the brother is symbolic of the Pharisees, the ones who at the beginning of the chapter are scandalized that Jesus welcomes notorious sinners and even eats with them. The sharing of table fellowship with those who were tax collectors and sinners was a powerful statement made by Jesus of whom he accepted as worthy to be in his company. To eat with these people meant that Jesus placed them on an equal social and ethical level with himself. He accepted them into fellowship with him, even though their occupations and lifestyles could be seen as evidence of rejection of the basic teachings of Judaism. One was to live as God's holy people by living in separation from and rejection of the lifestyles of the Gentiles, who were outside of the Law, the Torah, of Almighty God. Instead, these tax collectors and sinners entered into relationships with Gentiles, including those who worshipped idols and foreign gods, and compromised the purity of life under God's Law and in so doing endangered the continued existence of God's own people, the Jews. Jesus' acceptance of them was an affront, and must be opposed, or at least protested.

Jesus responds with three parables, each about a lost possession that, when found, is the source of wild rejoicing. And because of the rejoicing at the return of the younger brother, this parable is seen as matching the two previous, about the lost sheep and the lost coin. "There is more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance" the first parable concludes. And with the statement of the father at the end of the third parable, that this brother who was dead is now alive, was lost and now was found, the rejoicing and the party is seen to be on the same level as the rejoicing of the angels over the one who repents.

And there, I believe, I and indeed we all have gotten it wrong.

Because, simply, the third parable ends with no one repenting.

The younger son returns, as a careful reading of the text shows, not because he has repented (although he carefully rehearses his speech claiming that he knows he has sinned against the father) but because he is starving to death. At home, at least, he could work and be fed, since his father treats the slaves so well. He would be better off as a slave in disgrace at home than trusting to the "kindness" of strangers. He has to say the words admitting he was wrong, and so he is prepared to do, in order to get a job with meals provided; but has he really repented? At best, it is questionable; his motives are definitely mixed. In fact, this parable is a good argument that God (the Father in the story) forgives us as fallen sinners even though, as sinners, our repentance is often (always ?) flawed, incomplete, and filled with mixed motives. It isn't the sincerity or completeness of our repentance that saves us; it is instead the overwhelming, prodigal grace and mercy of our heavenly Father that loved us first and loves us even though we continue to sin and repent and then sin again.

As others have pointed out elsewhere, the true "lost son" in this parable is the older brother. This is the son who stayed, who always did what the father commanded, and whose complaint comes pouring out as he and the father stand outside, with the party going on within earshot. Many motives have been ascribed to the older son in these moments: jealousy, envy, anger, resentment. He has been accused of never really loving the father at all, but only acting out of duty; of working for the father because he believes that his works would earn certain rewards from the father; of being as covetous of money and position as the younger son, but being more devious and underhanded in how he would obtain it. Because the older son is identified with the Pharisees, it seems that he is fair game for being attacked in every way; after all, the Pharisees are the ones we all love to reject. They are seen as negative, stiff-necked, religious prudes who judge everyone else harshly and unfairly, unloving and unforgiving, and ultimately the ones who won't make it into the kingdom of heaven, or at least if they do get in it will only be as the very last ones, trailing in reluctantly behind the tax collectors, prostitutes and other sinners.

Let's face it, don't most of us think that the Pharisees (and all religious folks who get compared with them, down through the ages) will be the ones left outside of the great heavenly banquet, because they will reject sitting down and eating with a God who welcomes such sinners into the feast? It isn't so much that God will lock them out, as they will stubbornly and self-righteously refuse to come in.

All of which proves only that the lost son, the older brother, is still lost and rejected. He stands outside of all of our parties, hearing the songs and smelling the barbecue, unable to come in. Read the parable again. The older son is lost because he was forgotten. No message was sent to him where he was, out in the field. Unlike the shepherds in the story of Jesus' birth, no messanger was sent to him "with good tidings of great joy." Unlike the lost sheep and the lost coin, no one misses him or realizes that he is absent. He is left to discover the news by accident; oh by the way, your brother came home and your father invited everyone to come and rejoice. Everyone but you, that is. Speculation on why the older son was not sent for is just that, speculation. The only thing for certain is that he was not sent for, not given the good news, not invited to rejoice.

The father comes out and pleads, when he learns of the older son's anger, alone and outside in the cold. But does the father ever repent of not extending the invitation to the son earlier? The older son cannot get over what the younger son has done, and especially to what his brother did with the father's generosity. This could be envy and jealous resentment, it is true. But it could instead be anger at the younger son taking his birthright and treating it as only good for what it could buy, including buying sexual thrills that degrade both the son and the women his father's money paid for. Such anger, in another setting, could be identified with that of the prophets of old accusing Israel of "playing the harlot" with every false god of the nations surrounding her, of Isaiah or Jeremiah or Amos calling for justice to flow down like waters, and condemning the use of wealth only to buy one's own comfort and ease at the expense of the poor, the widow and the orphan. Such anger could even be compared to Jesus' own anger at the abuse of the temple, and his rejection of those who take the offerings of the poor while devouring the houses of widows.

I wonder at our willingness to judge the older son the way we do. Even when we as preachers claim (or admit) that most of us find ourselves represented by the older son, seeing some of his anger and resentment in ourselves, we are very quick to count ourselves as more sensitive than he. We, we hasten to say, we know we are too prone to judge others; we would accept the father's pleading and repent of our hardness of heart toward the younger, errant sibling. In fact, isn't our presence in the church, along with those others seeking grace and forgiveness, evidence that, indeed, we are pharisaic older brothers no longer? It is always those others, those self-righteous ones still waging fingers at us who have seen the light, who are the ones to be tsk-tsked over. How judgmental of them, we all agree, as we party on in judgment of those who cannot yet come in.

Perhaps the older son is outside because, indeed, he is not welcome. Being who he is, the onewho stayed and lived as the father said he wanted, would anyone be able to accept the presence of the proper, obedient older son in the midst of the party? Or would he be an accusing presence, in spite of himself?

And yet, of course, the father does come out. Regardless of the earlier slight and insult (and insult it indeed is), the father loves this son, this companion of his through thick and thin, and perhaps longs to put everything right and see reconciliation among all. The older son is not ready for that. Who knows if he ever will be? The parable ends before that point is reached. And all of us, prodigals and miscreants and properly behaved and offended as we may find ourselves, all of us are left to wonder if a point of real reconciliation can be found. Can this family be saved, after all of the blunders and deliberate offenses? God only knows.

Instead, the parable ends with the father outside in the dark with the beloved older son, the one who feels so rejected, the one outside the camp. Perhaps he can only be reached by yet another older son, the one who came to fulfill all the law, the one who was nonetheless rejected and driven out, the one who pleaded with his father to forgive those who rejected and tortured him. Perhaps it is that first born son who can speak to and for all those who believe that their love and obedience has been spurned and ridiculed, the one who must have loved the Pharisees so, since he kept talking to them in spite of their arguments against him. Perhaps those who stand, outside, on principle, will be welcomed in by the hospitality of those who know what it means to be forgiven when it wasn't deserved, or even desired.

The parable of the lost son ends, uncomfortably, with a question mark. Those of us who live now, uncomfortably, in the question marks of church decisions and church divisions, wait for what the outcome of the story may be. The door opens, the father comes out. And the curtain descends, with these words flashing across the scene:

"To Be Continued."

A Reading for Ash Wednesday

A reading from Isaiah 58:

Shout out, do not hold back!

Lift up your voice like a trumpet!

Announce to my people their rebellion, to the house of Jacob their sins.

Yet day after day they seek me and delight to know my ways,

as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness

and did not forsake the ordinance of their God;

they ask of me righteous judgment, they delight to draw near to God.

"Why do we fast, but you do not see?

Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?"

Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day, and oppress all your workers.

Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist.

Such fasting as you do today will not make your voice heard on high.

Is such the fast that I choose, a day to humble oneself?

Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush,

and to lie in sackcloth and ashes?

Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord?

Is not this the fast that I choose:

to loose the bonds of injustice,

to undo the thongs of the yoke,

to let the oppressed go free,

and to break every yoke?

Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,

and bring the homeless poor into your house;

when you see the naked, to cover them,

and not to hide yourself from your own kin?

Then your light will break forth like the dawn,

and your healing shall spring up quickly;

your vindicator shall go before you,

the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.

Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;

you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am.

If you remove the yoke from among you,

the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,

if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,

then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday.

The Lord will guide you continually,

and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong;

and you shall be like a watered garden,

like a spring of water, whose waters never fail.

Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;

you shall raise up foundations of many generations;

you shall be called "the repairer of the breech,"

the restorer of streets to live in.

If you refrain from trampling the sabbath,

from pursuing your own interests on my holy day;

if you call the sabbath a delight and the holy day of the Lord honorable;

if you honor it, not going your own ways,

serving your own interests, or pursuing your own affairs,

then you shall take delight in the Lord,

and I will make you ride upon the heights of the earth;

I will feed you with the heritage of your ancestor Jacob,

for the mouth of the Lord has spoken."

The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

"Now There Was a Famine in the Land": a sermon on Genesis 26

Now There Was a Famine in the Land

Share

“Now there was a famine in the land.”

The recurring reality of this sentence sets the stage for many of the stories in the Biblical narrative. Abraham and Isaac, Jacob and his sons, Naomi and Elimelech, and later the prophet Elijah -- the rains fail to come, the crops fail,
“the fig tree does not blossom and there is no herd in the stalls” (as Habakkuk writes)--
and there is famine in the land.

And famine meant then, as it has throughout history, even down to our own day, that people move. They move because they must. They move to where it is better. They move to where there is rain, to where there is family, where there are jobs. They move to where there is food. Where there is life. Where there is hope.

Often they move, intending to back someday -- when it is better, when it is safe again. Sometimes, though, they know they will never go back. The move will be permanent.

And sometimes, after moving, things are better, and even the pull of family, of land, of home, cannot overcome the prosperity that the new land has brought.

Until, that is, the new land betrays the immigrant, who finds he is still a stranger and an alien.

The news these days is full of stories much like the story of Isaac in chapter 26 of Genesis. I heard this story just this week, that the resident aliens in Greece are petitioning the government to do as was promised them: give them permanent resident status, and allow their children to become citizens. They have been living in Greece for 5 years, 10 years, or even longer, and they have prospered.

But the economy is a mess; the government is close to bankrupt; and there are massive rallies around the country, and in the capitol of Athens. The aliens are taking Greek jobs away from the native Greek citizens, and the cry is for them to leave. And such scenes are being repeated around Europe, and indeed around the world.

The wells of Contention and Enmity continue to be dug, and quarreled over. If Isaac prospers, he is taking away from the more deserving native citizens of the land. And if Isaac does not prosper, he is a leech feeding on the welfare state. Either way, Isaac the alien, the immigrant, the refugee, is a problem. What are we going to do with Isaac?

Now a promise of numerous descendants, as many as the stars in the sky, may not sound like much of a blessing when the only real estate you own is a cemetery plot, when you are trying to find a place to pitch your tent, and when you name your latest well “Room” when the neighbors don’t immediately show up to claim it. (Though you might notice that Isaac doesn’t stay in Rehoboth long before moving on again, this time to Beer-sheba. Room, it seems still isn’t room enough.)

But God’s presence in this story frames this refugee’s experience, as we might hope God’s presence frames the experience of everyone who undertakes the journey of an alien and stranger: “I will be with you. Do not be afraid. I will keep my promise to your father, the promise I make to you. You will have land again, and descendants, and blessing.”

The presence of God provides a vision beyond the current time of famine, and loss, and wandering; a vision that goes into the past to claim a heritage, and that goes into the future, a future of plenty and stability and belonging. The past and future are anchored in being God’s people, so that the present time with its uncertainties, false starts, and dead end wells can be endured without giving in to despair.

There are many ways in which such a story as Isaac’s can speak to situations in our world today. We are especially aware of this when in the midst of the people of Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services. Even Hollywood has noticed this: “Blame the Lutherans,” goes the now-famous line from the movie, “Gran Torino.”

But I think even for us, sitting here, many of us pretty rooted in this land, pretty much native, neither refugees nor immigrants, most of us: even we can relate to this story.

We also know times of famine, of loss, of drying up of hope and what seemed to be flourishing new growth. The wells we have dug, full of water, are not ours to keep. The structures we build, are lived in by others. We find ourselves on the road again, figuratively and literally.

How much Contention and Enmity will we have to work with before we come to that broad place where there is truly hospitality rather than only tolerance; where there is blessing, not just begrudging “room”?

It is a question for which there is no ready answer; I certainly have no easy answer, this day, this year. But like Isaac, like all the patriarchs and matriarchs, the great cloud of witnesses, we are hemmed in, behind and before, by a promise and a presence.

“I will be with you,” God says. “Do not be afraid. I will keep the promise I made to your fathers (and to your mothers), and I make the promise to you. You have a land, and a future, and a hope. You will be a blessing to all nations, and you will be a blessing.”

And as a sign of this, we have God present with us. Jesus is there, with us, outside the city gate, outside the camp, on the road, in our tents, the one who tabernacles with us. He is there in the barren times, the wilderness times, the times of wandering, of change, of obstacle and famine. He bears the rejection of the alien and the stranger, and his blood sanctifies even those who conspire in his rejection and death. Yes, even you and me.

We can even dare to learn hospitality from him, hospitality with all its risks, even when we fear losing what we have gained, even when we are in the process of leaving one homeland to venture out in search of the next. Sharing what we have with other strangers and aliens, we continue to receive. And God meets us again, and again, with this reassurance:
“I am with you and will bless you.
I am with you and will bless you.
I am with you and will bless you.”

And we come to his table, and he is, and we are. And it is enough.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

1 Corinthians 12: Our Unity in Jesus Christ is Real

Paul talks about what true Christian unity is in his letter to the congregation in Corinth. Just as the political commentators today, Paul talks about unity because it is sorely lacking. The Corinthian church, rich in spiritual gifts and physical blessings, is turned in on itself in dissension, bickering and jealousy. And so Paul gives this sermon in his letter, a sermon that tries to call them back to what all their gifts and blessings are for at the basic, foundational level.

And this is important for us, just as it was then for the Corinthian Christians, because we also need to reflect on what our place is in the whole picture, the whole body.

Our unity is in being made members of the one body of Jesus Christ.

Let me say that again. Our unity is in being made members of the one body of Jesus Christ.

We don’t make ourselves members of this body. That is God’s work, through being baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The Holy Spirit is the active agent of the Trinity in the sacrament of baptism, bringing us to faith in Jesus Christ so that we can receive him as the savior sent from the Father. The Holy Spirit is, as it were, the leading edge of the Holy Trinity, who always works in coordinated action for the salvation of the world, in each one of us. It is all of that Third Article of the Creed stuff, what Luther lays out so succinctly in the Small Catechism:

“But the Holy Spirit has called me by the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, sanctified and kept me in the true faith, even as he calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies the whole Christian Church on earth and keeps it in Jesus Christ in the one true faith.”

As Luther writes here, and as Paul reminds both the Corinthian Christians and us, this is not just about “me and Jesus getting saved.” Yes, it is personal, and individual, the Holy Spirit working in your life, and in yours, and in mine, so that each one can hear God calling by name as his beloved child. But it is also, always, by necessity, about us, about the whole Christian Church, about those who came before and who will come after, about the others in the pews along side us, and about those Christians who are in congregations and gatherings around the world. Some we know, some we don’t know, and occasionally some we wish we didn’t know!

And now, as in Corinth, there are differences. Disagreements. Oh, let’s be really honest: there are some real cat-fights in the church, feuds that would rival the Hatfields and the McCoys! Those are not things for us to be proud of, but they must be admitted, confessed to, before any kind of repentance, forgiveness, and reconciliation can take place. And sometimes that work of reconciliation takes a long time, even centuries. Fortunately, we are claimed by a God who takes the long view, and is willing to hang in there over the centuries.

In the midst of disagreements, disappointments, rivalries, and opposing claims to what is right and proper among Christians in the same congregation, church body, or tradition, Paul gives us a vision, a wake-up call, as to what is the purpose of all of this multitude of gifts and callings. It is to point to Christ. It is to build up his body so that the weaker members, whatever and whoever they might be, are clothed with greater honor; so that all members might have the same care for one another; so that we suffer together and rejoice together; so that the whole body together might be a witness to what Jesus Christ has done and how He has taken each one of us and at the cost of his own life, given his life away so that we might live.

Now, there are times when this unity seems, indeed is, pushed to the breaking point. There are situations, moments, even decades when it seems that Christians are better at snarling and biting at one another than at caring for one another; when emotions run so high that the mere idea of working together in one body is abhorrent. The difficulty of those times and situations are well known; and indeed, sometimes there are matters that are worth arguing and fighting about. Jesus himself at times seems to pick arguments with others; those situations emerge over the course of the Gospels.

But remember what I said at the beginning of this sermon. Our unity comes from being made members of the one body of Christ . It isn’t something we make happen, it is something that is done to us and for us. Our dissensions and even our separations are real, and sometimes get worse as we humanly struggle. Our prayers for Christian unity are sometimes more like whistling in the dark.

But our unity in Jesus Christ is real. He is the one who has brought us into his life, and while he stretches he doesn’t break. His unity exists beyond what we can see or know, in our limited human existence in this corner of the whole Church. His Holy Spirit binds us together in our baptism into his death, and we will rise together, to then know one another as we have been known by him. He brings us that good news, that being one isn’t up to us. He has accomplished it already, and gives it to us as his gift.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Support Haiti Relief: Give to the ELCA

I have been following the reporting on the aftermath of the earthquake in Haiti. Like many, if not most of you, I have been praying for those who are caught in this terrible situation, as well as for those who are scrambling to bring aid and relief to the hundreds of thousands of survivors. And like many, I am proud of the reputation of Lutheran relief agencies in responding to this kind of disaster. We have "boots on the ground," through the Lutheran World Federation, Lutheran World Relief, and the companion synod relationships of the ELCA with the Lutheran Church in Haiti. I am also learning about countless other ways in which members of the ELCA have been involved in mission work in Haiti, and will continue to be involved far into the future.

Lutherans are generous people, not as a work of the law but as a response to the generosity God has shown to us in his Gospel. We have been given much, and we give much, especially when the need is so great. Already the ELCA News is reporting that over a million dollars has been given by Lutherans for the earthquake response in Haiti. And that is why I am going to make a suggestion, request, perhaps plea is the best word for it, now.

Send an offering to the ELCA Vision for Mission Fund.

Why? Because the main reason the ELCA International Disaster Relief Fund can dedicate such a high percentage of the offerings it receives to those who are most in need is because the ELCA Churchwide budget covers the cost of offices, lights, office machines, and staffing expenses. That is part of the mission work of this denomination. The Disaster Relief folks don't have to pay for that stuff, so their money can go to places like Haiti. (And the flood victims in Iowa, and the hurricane victims on the Gulf Coast, and the tornado victims in Oklahoma, and you name the places where the ELCA has been in the past 10 years.)

I am going to go out on a limb and say that right now it is not about the current church disagreement, as important as that is to me and I know to you. Right now it is about supporting the work of those who know how to help, first and best and immediately and long-term. And the ELCA is a vital member of that response and that work. If the Churchwide office is weakened, then our response is weakened.

If you disagree with me, I do understand. This isn't meant to guilt anyone into contributing to the ELCA Churchwide level. But think about it. Pray about it. And please give to help Haiti, whether it is to the ELCA Disaster Relief folks or to Lutheran World Relief or to the Lutheran World Federation.

But if you want to send a message to Chicago, then send a check, by mail, and include a note that because of the emergency in Haiti, you want the ELCA to be able to support the work of those responding in mercy to the least of these. Here's the address:

Evangelical Lutheran Church in America

Vision for Mission Fund

P. O. Box 71764

Chicago, IL 60694-1764

And tell them Lutheran CORE sent you.

In peace,

Pastor Erma Wolf

Lutheran CORE steering committee (but acting on my own)

To Be Named "Not-Forsaken"

For those who don’t know me very well, I am a news junkie. I often listen to my I-Pod while exercising, but what I listen to most often isn't music, but recorded podcasts of news programs and commentaries on recent events. But at times these podcasts might stay on my I-Pod for several days, even a week, before I get around to listening to them. So yesterday, I listened to a podcast from a news program from earlier this month. And suddenly I realized that this story featured Haiti. But it was a very different place from what we are seeing now. It spoke of the new possibilities of hope that existed, as programs for education and job creation were being ramped up, and jobs were being provided for the young adults in Haiti. Some of Haiti’s factories were back in business, for the first time in over a decade, as foreign investment in Haiti was returning to the struggling country. The program stressed how this was a time of new hope, for Haiti and for its people. And perhaps this would be Haiti's last chance; as one Haitian reflected, "People are getting tired of trying to rescue Haiti."

The program was dated Monday, January 11th, 2010. And all I could think of was how that hope had been shattered. How the factories, the schools, the programs, the lives, now lay in ruins. The earthquake of this week has changed everything.

What would it mean for Haiti to hear the words spoken by the prophet Isaiah in the Old Testament lesson for today? "The nations shall see your vindication, and all the kings your glory, and you shall be called by anew name that the mouth of the Lord will give. You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God. You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate, but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land Married; for the Lord delights in you." (Isaiah 62:2-4) You will no longer be known as forsaken or desolate; you will no longer be known as cursed or hopeless. Jerusalem was a place that had been cursed, abandoned, forsaken. Jerusalem was a pile of ruins, destroyed by the armies of the Babylonians, left as a warning to any who would think of defying the king of Babylon, and later of Persia. And when the exiles were allowed to return, they returned to a land that had been destroyed. Everything was in ruins. They had to begin over again, from nothing.

How does one rebuild an entire city? The destruction and despair of Port-au-Prince Haiti is not the first time this question has had to be asked. Countless cities and towns have had to ask that across the ages, as disaster, both natural and man-made, strikes, often with no warning. Often the response is guarded. Rebuild, yes, probably, but be practical, careful. Surely no one expects things to be like before.

But note what God says through his prophet. Jerusalem is to be rebuilt, restored, not only as good as before, but better. It will once again be the shining city on the hill. It will be the gorgeous crown of beauty in the hand of her Lord; the capitol city, the home of the throne of David. It will be as if all her sad, broken, ugly history had never happened, for that will be wiped out in what God will do for her now. No longer a broken, ugly, crime-ridden idol-pursuing harlot of a place, Jerusalem will be a beautiful bride for her husband, the Lord God of Israel.

Why does God promise this? Why is God so extravagant in what He will do for His chosen one, the people he is bringing back from exile? Because that is the kind of God he is. His love and grace is wider and deeper than Jerusalem and the exiles deserve or expect. It is as if Haiti were to hear: Your city will be restored, not to what it was before, but to what it was supposed to be: no more shanties and places of poverty and death, but the whole city a place of beauty and health and wholeness for all her people, a place that will be a shining light for the whole Western Hemisphere.

We hear this in all of the lessons this Sunday. From the promises God gives to the exiles returning to the ruins of Jerusalem, to the words of Paul to the congregation in Corinth arguing over which spiritual gift is really best, to the empty jars at the wedding where the wine has run out, we see how generous God is to his people, generosity that is overflowing, more and better than anyone expects, or even wants. “Why serve this good wine now?” the steward of the wedding asks. What Jesus has done is give better than was expected, a prime vintage to those whose palates have been dulled with inebriation. Do we really need all these spiritual gifts, the people of Corinth might ask, and we ask as well. Gifts of healing and prophecy: do we really want those, or are we embarrassed if they suddenly show up outside of where they are supposed to be. Healing is supposed to come from medicine, and by way of a doctor’s care, not from some spontaneous act of God. Wine is something one buys at the store, in carefully measured bottles, and drink modestly, soberly even. It isn’t supposed to suddenly show up, running out of the tap where the water should be, in such amounts and excellence that one is tempted to drink with abandon.

God’s generosity and extravagance embarrass us. We are much more comfortable with reasonable generosity; gifts that are appropriate, in good taste, and modest. We don't’ know how to handle a huge gift of overwhelming value and generosity. What are we supposed to do with that? What kind of obligation do we owe if we accept such a gift?

Each one of us has already been given such a gift, a gift of such beauty and priceless extravagance that it takes our breath away. That gift of Jesus Christ himself, our Lord, our Savior, revealed in all his beauty and glory and love as the one who comes to restore us as his Father’s favorite child. Each one of us is given this gift, and more as well: the gifts of the Holy Spirit, poured out on you and me so that we each can participate in the proclaiming to a world that is broken and forsaken that Jesus Christ is Lord. His kingdom will bring about the healing of the peoples, most profoundly those who are most abandoned, hopeless, and desperate in this world. Even places such as Haiti, the poorest, most afflicted country in our hemisphere, God is there proclaiming good news, healing, and hope.

Last week we heard in the story of Jesus’ baptism at the Jordan the words of the Father’s welcome to him: You are my Son, my beloved, in you I am well pleased. This week we hear that those words are for us as well. Not because we deserve it, or because we have worked hard and have earned the reward. Not, as Paul told the Corinthians, because they are wiser or more advanced in knowledge. And not, as we learn in the Gospel, because we are so much better prepared than others for any and every contingency. But we receive this gift because we have been clothed in the righteousness of Jesus, the beloved Son of God; because in baptism we have been immersed into his bloody death and raised in his resurrection, and our lives are no longer our own, but his.

God pours out his life blood, his riches, his forgiveness and grace upon the barren emptiness and dry places in our lives, and in our world. And then his Spirit moves us to witness to that gift by giving it away to those who are dying for lack of water, bread, shelter, and hope. The empty stone jars and the ruined city is not the end. God gives us more than we ever deserve, and blesses us in our giving away to others in trust that God will never let us run dry.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Augsburg Fortress Announcement on Pension Fund

If you haven't already heard the news, you can read about it on "Pretty Good Lutherans"

(http://www.prettygoodlutherans.com/): Augsburg Fortress Publishers has told its employees and retired workers that it is ending its pension fund. Seems it has been underfunded for the past nine years. And the ELCA leadership sees no qualms with deciding that there is no legal obligation to help AF provide for its retirees.

"Gift and Trust" anyone?

Please, keep the workers, current and retired, of the publishing ministry of the ELCA in your prayers. This winter blast just got a whole lot colder, and crueler, for them.

And how about letting someone know what you think about this? A bishop, Church Council member, or the folks in Chicago? There has to be a better way to deal with this. Someone, please, come up with a better way, and convince the folks in charge that we can take care of those who have worked for the mission and ministry of the ELCA in its publishing ministry.

Otherwise, don't ANYONE in the ELCA talk about "justice" or "social statement" ever again.

The Holy Innocents, and Us

Two years ago, the Gospel text was the story of the slaughter of the Holy Innocents by King Herod, the same as for the Feast day today. Here is my sermon for that text, offered as a possible help in your meditation on the meaning of this Feast, and that true text of terror. May all the holy innocents in our world, especially those waiting to be born, never be forgotten or abandoned by those who claim salvation in the name of the One truly innocent one who bore our sins upon the cross.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In an odd twist of the calendar, we are hearing the end of the story first this Sunday, and won’t get the first half of the story until next week. That’s because January 6th, the date of the Feast of the Epiphany, falls on a Sunday, next Sunday, and then you will hear the story of the Wise Men following the star to seek the newborn king. This week, we get the aftermath of that adventure, the part of the story when Herod uses his power to act out in rage, eliminating any and all who would threaten his right to rule in Judea.

In a week in which the assassination of Benazir Bhutto of pakistan has filled the headlines and news-blogs, we recognize the temptation to remove rivals to power by force and violence. Herod is enraged. When the Magi come to Jerusalem, they ask where is the King of the Jews. The answer should be obvious: Herod is the King of the Jews. When it becomes known that there is another claimant to Herod’s position, he has only one thought, one response: get rid of the threat. And if the threat is an infant, a helpless child? So much the better: eliminate him before he can grow up and cause real trouble.

This part of the story of Jesus’ birth is usually presented as an add-on. In fact, people often react with anger when this story is brought up during the Christmas season. “Why do we have to listen to this? Don’t we get enough of this kind of blood and gore out there? Please don’t spoil Christmas with this awful story.” And I can understand that reaction, those feelings. Christmas is a time when we want to feel good, if only for a little while. Our nativity sets make such a pretty picture; can’t we be allowed to enjoy it without this ugly story crashing in and spoiling things?

But this story is not an add-on, a diversion. This is the center of the story of Jesus’ birth, of why he came and why it so important that we know that this child is Emmanuel, God with us. He is the sign that will be spoken and acted against. He is the stumbling block that convicts the world of sin. He is the one that strikes fear in the hearts of all those, Herod and us, that want to keep life safely under control and our situation one that is stable and supports our want s and our ambitions.

Herod is afraid of the baby in Bethlehem because this baby threatens Herod’s ability to go on being king. But don’t we all want to keep on being king too? We want to be king in our own little kingdoms: our lives, our plans, our futures. What wouldn’t we do to ensure that our plans will be carried out just the way we want, that our lifestyles will continue to develop in the way we are counting on? It isn’t that we can’t cope with changes that life brings, but we all know there is change, and then there is CHANGE. Our resistance, our deceptions, our manipulations in order to remain in charge and avoid changes that would take that away from us is the stuff of every television drama, of every book and movie plot.

I was reading recently the story of a family, a husband and wife and their two daughters, who had been driving home from a day spent together on a clear August evening in the Twin Cities, when their lives literally were turned upside down when the 35W bridge collapsed. The mother nearly died, all were injured. They are recovering physically, but their lives will never be the same. The plans they had, for that week, for the coming year, were all brushed away. I read of their feelings of being helpless in the face of events that they had never even imagined.

That family had no choice: the bridge collapse was an event they could not foresee or change. But sometimes we are given a choice on how we will handle an unexpected challenge. An pregnancy occurs: the time isn’t right, the situation isn’t right, maybe the marriage is rocky, maybe the expectant parents aren’t married, maybe they’re too young, maybe they’re too old. What to do: take responsibility, even in the face of a situation that isn’t what anyone wanted, or decide to sweep this inconvenient, threatening child away? Or we see a child, not our own, we don’t know this child very well, but the child shows signs of neglect, of not being cared for very well, or perhaps there are even signs that the child is being struck or abused. It is so much easier to not do anything, to figure someone else will react, that it is too complicated and inconvenient to make a fuss, and look what trouble we’ll get into, can’t we just leave things alone? Or we know a friend has been drinking too much, they really shouldn’t get behind the wheel when it is time to leave the party, but it will cause a scene to take the car keys away, and it will make real trouble if you call his parents, and so rather than run the risk of getting him mad you do nothing.

Like Herod, our fears can cause us to do nothing, or to do the wrong thing, that has real, permanent consequences on the life of another. Even the consequence of death. Can the presence of Jesus, God with us, in our lives, in our world, make a difference for us? Can he change us into people who will take risks to help and save others? Can he find a way to bring us forgiveness, even when we have let our fears lead us into hurting or neglecting someone else? I believe he can, and he does. He is our savior in all our distress, in his love and in his pity he redeems us. May his grace give us forgiveness in all our sins and failures; may his presence lead us in following him, and in choosing to care for others as he has taught us, casting our fears on him. Amen.

Asking Questions

Is a publicly accountable, lifelong, monogamous, same-gender relationship analagous to marriage?

What should be the criteria by which this question is answered?

Both of these questions are important ones in the ELCA at this time. (They are important outside of the ELCA as well, but I am not dealing with that aspect of the issue in this blog.) The new Social Statement of the ELCA, "Human Sexuality: Gift and Trust," does not answer these questions. It tries, to a certain extent, to lay out the positions of those who hold to contradictory views on the first question. But, in the end, the social statement does not redefine marriage for those of us in the ELCA. Marriage is still defined as being between male and female. (The statement may not do this as strongly as I and some others would like. But it does not change this understanding of marriage.)

Now the Church Council of the ELCA is and will be struggling with the issue of how to define a "publicly accountable, lifelong, monogamous, same-gender relationship" for the various entities of the ELCA. Can the Council make these relationships analagous to marriage? Well, in short, no. The newly passed social statement won't allow that. That does create a problem. If these same sex relationships aren't analagous to marriage, than just what are they?

Unfortunately, the tendency has been to answer that last question in a very snarky manner. That has not served to help the church in the discussion and debate on these issues at all. And at the worst, it has continued to fuel the accusation that those who oppose the ordination of those who are in such same gender relationships (sometimes referred to as PALMS for short) are prejudiced against those who are gay or lesbian.

I don't believe PALMS relationships are analagous to marriage. I don't believe they should be given the status of marriage, in either the churchly or civil realm. But PALMS relationships are not going to go away. Of the ones that I have personal knowledge of, I can attest that they are indeed capable of being loving, committed, faithful, monogamous, and life-long. I would even be able to agree that such a committed relationship has more to recommend it than a life of changing partners and short-term sexual relationships. (And that is a problem for heterosexuals as well; I am not unaware of the log in the eyes of the straight community.) Those of us in the straight community in the church, including in the ELCA, have to take seriously the real commitment that exists between same gender partners in the gay and lesbian community, especially the community that exists in the church. And even as I and others in the ELCA reject the decisions of the August churchwide assembly, and live in confessional resistence to those and other decisions made by the ELCA on a variety of matters, we must look for a better way to deal with these questions.

It is not about my rights to have my conscience respected. It is how I might serve my brothers and sisters in Christ, for the sake of Christ. Even as I disagree. Even as I say "No" to the deeply held beliefs of those who I believe are in error.

It isn't just the Church Council that is struggling with this. It has to be all of us. In some ways it is the essential Lutheran question. What does this mean?

A Sermon for the Feast of Christ the King, November 22, 2009

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My kingdom is not from this world.

The only way to get along in this world, whether you are a student in school, an employee in the business world, a politician, a member of the clergy, a taxpayer, a patient in a hospital, or even just a member of a family, is to learn where the power is in the system and then learn how to play the system to your advantage. We all do this, in overt and covert ways, every day. We do it to get ahead, to help others, to cover our rear, and just plain to survive. We hold our finger up in the air to see which way the wind is blowing, and we adjust our plans accordingly. We may hunker down and wait for the storm to pass; we may pick our battles carefully; we may call in our chips when we feel it is time to be repaid for what we have done for others. We know how to go along to get along, and we make it our business to know who has power and how to use that knowledge of power to our advantage.

That is the system Pilate knows. That is the system that Daniel knows. That is the system that the Roman Emperors know. That is the system that every earthly ruler knows, whether tyrant or democratically elected.

And that is the system that Jesus rejects. That is why Pilate cannot figure Jesus out.

Jesus says, My kingdom is not from this world. Jesus isn’t playing the system--he is outside the system, outside the kingdoms and nations and power structures and business models. And the powers that be in this world have no power, no authority, over him. Later in the Gospel, Pilate says to Jesus, “Don’t you know that I have power to release you, and power to crucify you?’ Jesus then answers, “You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above.” Pilate thinks he is calling the shots here, but he isn’t; the only one with any real power is Jesus, who has been given authority by His Father in heaven.

Jesus frightens Pilate, just as he has frightened the religious authorities of his day; and just as he has frightened every power and ruler since. Jesus and his followers are really quite subversive. We agree to submit to the authority of earthly rulers in order to maintain proper order and to show respect for God by showing respect for those people and institutions which He has set up to rule. But as followers of Jesus Christ, we have no king but Jesus. We are citizens of the Kingdom of God, of the Ancient of Days whose throne is fiery flames, who is the true bringer of peace, who is and was and is to come.

Daniel and John know this truth. The real action is not with the rulers of the earth, even though the visions of their lies and wicked deeds are terrifying and have real consequences for the earth and her peoples. In spite of all that, however, the real action lies not with the beasts and the disasters and the plagues and the tyrants, but in fact it lies with God and with his kingdom. In spite of all of the terrible things that are unleashed upon the people of God, Daniel and John assure us that it is God who reigns with supreme authority and power. Especially in Revelation, over and over we are shown the real command center: the throne of God and the thousands upon thousands of angels and creatures and martyrs and witnesses who continually praise and worship and serve the Ancient of Days, and the one who has been given dominion over everything that exists.

This has real consequences for us here. There is only one kingdom that matters, to which we owe all of our loyalty, our allegiance, and our very life. And that is the Kingdom of Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the beginning and the end. And the Kingdom of God cannot and must not be confused with any earthly kingdom, nation or government. Nor can the Kingdom of God be identified with any particular political system, much less any political party.

Does this mean that there are no political consequences for following Jesus? On the contrary, it means that we are free to “do politics”: that is, to discuss and study and debate who is really our king, and what kind of a king he is. If we believe that the Kingdom of God is real, that it exists now in all its glory, even though we cannot yet see it, and that the Kingdom of God and of the Lamb is our true home and country, then every decision we make is made under the rules of that kingdom. And if you want to know the rules of the Kingdom of God, read the 19th chapter of Leviticus (in fact, I wish I could forbid anyone from reading the 20th chapter until they had not only read the 19th, but had become perfect in following its commands), or read Psalm 50, or the 58th chapter of Isaiah, or the 6th chapter of Micah, or the 25th chapter of Matthew, or the 14th -16th chapters of Luke.

But the biggest consequence is knowing that we are citizens of the Kingdom of God not by what we have done, but by what has been done for us by God. In all of these readings today, the real actor is God. For the love of us, and of all people in this world, Jesus has freed us from our sins by his blood, he has covered up our failures with his righteousness, and has made us to be a kingdom, priests serving the Father. It will take us the rest of our lives to learn how to live as servants of such a King: but by the grace of God, we have the rest of our lives, and then more. Until that time when we join those standing around the throne, Jesus will not fail to speak the truth into our hearts, and into our world; and we can practice our songs of allegiance even as we pray the oldest prayer of the church: Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus! Amen.

A Few Brief Reflections on Current Events in the ELCA

A few brief reflections on the recent flurry of press releases from the ELCA:

1. I think we hit a nerve.

2. There is no such thing as too much publicity.

3. Pastor Bouman obviously does not approve of Lutheran CORE's definition of the word "Mission." That's ok. We don't agree with his definition of that word either. That gives us a place to begin debate. But he needs to give up the "I care about the downtrodden immigrant more than you do" line of attack. If, that is, he is truly interested in discussion and not attack.

4. This is exactly the way those of us on the steering committee expected the churchwide office to act toward Lutheran CORE. And I find it sad that churchwide has lived down to our expectations.

5. See number 1.

I do want to say one thing more. I was and am very glad that Pastor Bouman attended the Lutheran CORE convocation at Fishers. He was there for most of the event. That could not have been easy. Strong words were used, even a few harsh words, about the ELCA. In spite of his letter, I hope he continues to reflect on what he heard there, in the same way as I continue to reflect on what I heard at the Churchwide Assembly and at the GoodSoil worship service at Central Lutheran. It is easy to be offended. What is difficult is to ask, seriously and sincerely, "Lord, is it I who is in the wrong?"

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us all.

Why I'm Staying in the ELCA

I have been giving this a lot of thought and prayer over the past few weeks. And I am ready to give you the two reasons I have decided to stay in the ELCA. And I want to say this before leaving for the Lutheran CORE gathering in Indiana this weekend.

1. This is where God is calling me to be.

That pretty much says it. I have been asked how I can be so certain it is God calling me to this, or how I know God is calling me to really stay in the ELCA. My answer is very unsatisfactory to just about everyone except me. It is that if it isn't from God, then it won't work. And God will let me know. It may take awhile for it to sink in (after all, I am a stubborn German/Scot-Irish Lutheran from Tennessee). But that's ok. And if it is from God, then I will continue to know.

I see myself as a pastor, not a hired hand. I'm not supposed to run when the flock is under attack. And as a pastor, I am to preach repentance and warning, and the promise of forgiveness and renewal of life to all who turn to God in Christ Jesus. I don't see anything that happened at the 2009 Churchwide Assembly that makes that less imperative for the foreseeable future.

2. I love the ELCA.

I know, I'm not supposed to do that. The ELCA is "only" a denomination, a pretty flawed one at that (perhaps, yes, fatally so). I shouldn't make an idol out of a church body, which is after all a corporation. And I don't really have any realistic notion that the ELCA can be "reformed," "taken back," "renewed," or "reborn." And who do I think I am, that one pastor can really make any difference in the ELCA under the present circumstances? Especially, given the progress of original sin is ever ongoing, those circumstances will almost assuredly get worse going into the future?

Like above, this makes no sense. But to quote the old song (sung so wonderfully by Barbra Streisand in "Funny Girl"): "I'd rather be blue over you (ELCA) than happy with somebody else."

And with God, nothing is impossible. Even resurrection from the dead.

Now, this is not any kind of judgment on those who believe they must leave and build outside of the ELCA, either a new denomination or in another, different, Lutheran denomination. I can accept that they/you? are doing what God is calling to be done. Just by someone else.

Now, if this changes, I'll post it here. But don't hold your breath. This is feeling pretty set.

Here I stand. In the ELCA.

God, help me.

September 2nd is the day the church commemorates Nikolai F. S. Grundtvig, Danish Lutheran bishop, pastor, and writer of the 19th century. He stood for a Christian faith deeply rooted in the Bible and in the Sacraments of Baptism and Holy Communion, the ones given to the church by Jesus Christ. For English-speaking Lutherans he is best known for his hymn texts, from "Cradling Children in His Arms" to "Built on a Rock the Church Shall Stand." Here are a few of those hymns that are given to us as many of us still struggle with how we are to go forward following the ELCA Churchwide Assembly.

"God's Word is our great heritage, and shall be ours forever.

To spread its light from age to age shall be our chief endeavor.

Through life it guides our way; in death it is our stay.

Lord, grant while time shall last your Church may hold it fast

Throughout all generations."

"Built on a rock the Church shall stand, even when steeples are falling.

Crumbled have spires in every land, bells still are chiming and calling--

Calling the young and old to rest, calling the souls of those distressed,

Longing for life everlasting.

We are God's house of living stones built for his own habitation;

He fills our hearts, his humble thrones, granting us life and salvation.

Were two or three to seek his face He in their midst would show His grace,

Blessings upon them bestowing.

Through all the passing years, O Lord, grant that, when church bells are ringing,

Many may come to hear God's Word where he this promise is bringing:

"I know my own, my own know me; You, not the world, my face shall see;

My peace I leave with you. Amen."

"The Spirit of the Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, which proceeds from the Father. . . reflects the glory of God, so that the church feels the real presence of our Lord Jesus Christ, although the world does not see him. He reveals himself spiritually for all those who hold fast his word with proof as plain as when he revealed himself to his friends after the resurrection and spoke to them about matters that pertain to the kingdom of God. He tells us that he can and will dwell in his church and walk in it as the only-begotten Son from eternity in all the regenerated sons and daughters whom the heavenly Father and the Son embrace, sharing his glory.

"Then, and only then, God's kingdom comes to us, not so that one can point to it and say: look here or look there, as one points to the great nations, but in such a way that the whole church lives in it, saying and singing: Now we know that God's kingdom is truly righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. It comes as the Spirit proclaims in deeds and truth what is to come through that which is now worked and created in us. Then we cannot for a moment doubt that what now lives in us, a real and joyful power, though concealed, shall be revealed when he who is our life comes again even as he ascended. Thus it follows that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us, just as surely as this glory has descended and rests upon us.

"Therefore, Christian friends, we will not be fearful or despondent in the great transition period from darkness to light, from death to life, and from clarity to clarity, for it holds true throughout the lives of all God's children in this world, and not only during their last days, that they shall not fear evil as they walk through the valley of the shadow of death. We who walked in darkness have seen a great light, and he who is the light of the world is with us. . . ."

(The Fourth Sunday after Easter, 1855, in N.F.S. Grundtvig: Selected Writings, ed. Joahnnes Knudsen (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1976), 115-16. As reprinted in New Book of Festivals & Commemorations: A Proposed Common Calendar of Saints, Philip H. Pfatteicher (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2008), 426.)

CORE's + Spring: We Have Clarity

Tip of the hat to Pr. Zip for providing this on his blog:

In the following letter Bishop Paull Spring, Chair of the Lutheran COREsteering committee, addresses the ELCA Churchwide Assembly's decisions.

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

"We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh" (2 Corinthians 4:8-11).

With these eloquent words the Apostle Paul describes his ministry and apostleship. He has experienced distress, pain, suffering, and rejection. He bears the marks of the crucified Jesus. But Paul also is lifted up and sustained by his hope and confidence. The life, and especially the resurrection of Jesus, is the source of Paul’s hope and confidence: "the life of Jesus made visible in our bodies."

The words of Paul describe my feelings as I reflect on the decisions of the recent Churchwide Assembly. Yes, I am distressed that the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America has now endorsed blessings and ordinations for active gays and lesbians in spite of the clear teaching of Scripture on marriage and homosexual behavior.

But I am not crushed down nor in despair.

For one thing, we now have clarity. We now know where the ELCA is going, and we have a strong sense of where God is leading us. Then, too, we know that we are not alone. We have each other. The tireless efforts of our faithful supporters at the Churchwide Assembly, too many to name, underscore how we are "surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses."

Most of all, I am buoyed up by the confident words of the Apostle Paul. I am not crushed, driven to despair. I am neither forsaken nor destroyed. I place myself where the Church at its best has always placed herself — in the arms of the crucified Jesus, whom God raised from the dead. Jesus’ own resurrection and the promise of my own resurrection on the last day sustain me and give me hope for today. "Death is at work in us," but, much more, the life of Jesus.

Many of us are now asking ourselves, what we should do now?

As faithful Christians, all of us will want to be intentional in our prayer life. We will pray for those who disagree with us. We will pray for one another. We will pray for God’s guidance and leading as we seek to move forward in our Christian life and discipleship.

We will want to give ourselves time for patient and careful reflection. Now is not the time to make rash, hasty decisions. Most people make serious mistakes when they make decisions under pressure. We do not want to make this mistake now. Our relationship with the ELCA is a serious matter for us. I ask that we all take time to reflect patiently with ourselves and with others and not to make rash decisions now. We all have the time for God to disclose his will for us. Lutheran CORE and our supporters have consistently urged us to maintain at least a formal relationship with the ELCA. The question now before us is the level of our participation within the ELCA.

I encourage you to write to your synodical bishop and let him/her know how you feel about the decisions of the churchwide assembly. I also encourage you to be in touch with other orthodox supporters in your congregation or community. We need to support and encourage one another now.

You may also feel drawn to redirect your personal (and congregational) giving outside the framework of the regular budget of the ELCA. My wife and I have already done so ourselves. Both synods and the ELCA have ministries -- camps, nursing homes and relief agencies -- that merit our financial support. There are other ministries within and beyond the ELCA. You may well consider whether your offerings to these other ministries are to be preferred over the regular mission support of the ELCA.

I note in passing that contributions for Lutheran CORE will be greatly appreciated at this time. If we are to re-form ourselves as a confessional movement, Lutheran CORE will need a significant increase in ongoing financial support for our work.

On September 25 and 26 Lutheran CORE will assemble as a convocation at Christ the Savior Lutheran Church, Fishers, Indiana (suburban Indianapolis). Registration forms are available on our website. At this convocation we will consider the future direction for Lutheran CORE and adopt a constitution for a re-formed and re-newed Lutheran CORE. Our goal is to become more intentional about our ministry. We will become a confessional and confessing movement and will carry out many functions that characterize a synod. We anticipate a large attendance at Fishers, and you are invited to attend.

I invite you to visit Lutheran CORE's website,www.lutherancore.org, for more information about our ministry.

I join my prayers with those of other Christians throughout the world. I especially remember in my prayers those of us who have been hurt and are scandalized by the actions of the churchwide assembly. Please join with me in prayer for our work and ministry.

In Christ's Name,
Paull E. Spring
Lutheran CORE Chair

Don't You Love Farce?

"To flirt with rescue, when one has no intention of being saved. . . please forgive me."

I have never seen the musical, "A Little Night Music," and so had never heard that particular line of dialogue that comes in the middle of the song, "Send in the Clowns." But in browsing around on YouTube a couple of nights ago, I stumbled upon a clip of Dame Judy Dench performing that song. At the time (mid 1990's) she had been playing the role of Desiree in a production in London. During an interview on a British talk show, she explained the role of that song. "It is a very angry song."

I was used to the version done by Judy Collins, who has a lovely singing voice. What I had forgotten is that Sondheim wrote "Send in the Clowns" for an actress who was not a singer; oh one who could carry a tune, but not a beautiful lyrical voice like Collins, or others who have recorded this song. Watching Dench's dramatic, controlled, angry rendition of "Send in the Clowns" transformed this song for me. It is a song of regrets, of accusation, of remorse, and of grief at the missed opportunities and bad timing in a relationship.

Hence the line I quote at the beginning of this post. It is spoken by the man who is Desiree's husband, and it represents his confession. He never intended to be saved, even though he came and acted as if, given enough talk, dialogue, and time he and she could repair the damage done and come to a full understanding and a renewed relationship. Finally, he confesses his part in the farce.

Why does this song speak to me now? Well, it isn't a perfect analogy to recent events at the ELCA churchwide assembly, but there is just enough to jar me into recognizing the anger and the regret of this most recent stage in this denominational drama. "Send in the clowns! -- Don't bother. They're here."

But don't take my word for it. Listen to it yourself.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yE3dLzIYKs8&feature=related

And, yes: maybe, next year.

Finding Consensus?

Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?"

And they answered him, "Well, it appears that there isn't a consensus yet among the crowds. Herod seems to think that you are John the Baptist come back from the dead; so I would stay out of Galilee for the foreseeable future if I were you. Others say Elijah; but you don't really look the part, and your diet is too rich for that to be a good description. And still others say one of the prophets. Jeremiah seems to be the prophet that gets mentioned most often, especially after that rant in the Temple; but we've also heard Amos. Thomas heard you compared to Micah; Simon even heard someone think you were Zephaniah, but I think that is a dark horse. So there really isn't agreement on this as of yet."

John piped in, "We've been concerned about this, actually, because your image is becoming diffuse and confusing to the crowds. Your public personna needs sharpening. "

James said, "Now don't get testy with us. We went ahead and hired a PR firm, one that is known for creating simple but effective public images that stick with the common man and woman. Now, they've been doing some polling, and think that you would be best served by choosing between the identities of either Moses or Elijah. Both of these have an overall positive reaction in the polling data, Moses because of the whole manna thing, Elijah because he opposed the alien influence from the Tyrian royal house, and would probably play well with the anti-Roman faction. But you need to choose one soon, today if possible, and then just stay on-message and be consistent with your public pronouncements and deeds of power."

Then Jesus turned to Peter, who had been uncharacteristically silent up to now. "But you, who do you say that I am?"

Peter looked straight at Jesus and said, "Um, the Annointed One of the LORD?"

The rest of the disciples broke out unanimously: "No, no, no! That one never even got mentioned in the polling! There will be no support for that image, not at all!"

Then Jesus said, quietly, "You know that the Son of Man will be arrested by the chief priests, and be beaten and ridiculed, and he will be crucified."

The disciples stared at Jesus in shocked silence. Then the PR guru spoke up. "Crucified, huh? Would be original; would have the advantage of never being done before. Let me try to picture that. . . no. No. That will never garner a following. Too negative, too violent. The rating on that image would never be family friendly. No, I can't see building a consensus on that idea. I really think the Moses revived would serve you best. Let's put some drawings together, present it to a couple of focus groups, and see how it plays. But I really think you can build a consensus on that. By the way, start carrying a staff. You might as well get comfortable with it now. I'll give you a call in a couple of days. But please -- no more talk about crucifixion! It is a real turn-off. You'll go nowhere with that, not if you want to have any influence on the under-30 multi-ethnic contingent. And let's face it, with an all-Jewish following, you could stand to build in something that will appeal to a wider constituency. Let's start thinking big-tent, shall we? I'll get back with something solid by the end of the week."

And thus the modern church was launched.

Keep Your Hand on the Plow

I ran across this video on YouTube, and what a gift! This young man has a tremendous voice, and this spiritual never sounded better, or more inspiring. Here is encouragement for this week during the Churchwide Assembly, and indeed for much more.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZpEHEJ9sNos&feature=related

Monday Morning at CWA

On this morning, before all the "stuff" begins, I am updating my Facebook page, including my group "Prayers for the ELCA." This has been a good discipline for me over these past few months, just to have to keep in the rhythm of posting a prayer every morning for this part of the Church known to us and to God as the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. In a couple of hours I will be registering at the Assembly desk, getting my credentials, logging in for internet access, and helping to make the Lutheran CORE room a hospitable place for those looking for the orthodox "center" at this assembly. Pastor Paull Spring reminded us last night that we are not some right-wing fringe group in the ELCA. We are centrists, orthodox, confessional, holding the faith and the interpretation of Scripture that has been confessed by Lutherans since the time of the 16th century. We are trying to hold the ELCA to the words of its confession in the constitution:

2.02 This church confesses Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior and the Gospel as the power of God for the salvation of all who believe.

2.03 This church accepts the canonical Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments as the inspired Word of God and the authoritative source and norm of its proclamation, faith, and life.

2.04 This church accepts the Apostles', Nicene, and Athanasian Creeds as true declarations of the faith of this church.

2.05 This church accepts the Unaltered Augsburg Confession as a true witness to the Gospel. . . .

2.06 This church accepts the other confessional writings in the Book of Concord, namely the Apology of the Augsburg Confession, the Smalcald Articles and the Treatise, the Small Catechism, the Large Catechism, and the Formula of Concord, as further valid interpretations of the faith of the church.

For this day, and throughout this week, a portion of my morning devotions will be Romans 12: 9-21. Here are the verses I will concentrate on today:

"Let love be genuine, hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with brotherly affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Never flag in zeal, be aglow with the Spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in your hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints, practice hospitality."

Finally, let this prayer encourage us all in this week:

"This week we may be given

challenges instead of ease,

courage instead of contentment,

opportunities instead of rest.

But we have a Savior who brings

strength out of service,

faith out of struggle,

and victory out of defeat.

Go then, fearful of nothing,

sure that in everything

we are held secure

in the Master's steadfast love. Amen.

(E. Lee Phillips)

Preparing for Churchwide

How should one prepare for this Churchwide Assembly? I have been asking myself this question over and over for the past few months, and increasingly so in this last week. There are several temptations involved here. Yours may be different; but I will share three of mine.

The First: Despair. There's a reason that despair is in the list of the Seven Deadly Sins: it is deadly. Despair immobilizes you; because you are certain that failure is certain, you stop trying. You give up, and thus make failure more probable. Also, despair is part of the incurvatus se that Luther speaks of, being curved in on oneself as a result of sin. This sounds harsh and condemning; someone who is in despair surely is deserving of sympathy and kindness, right? Please note: I am speaking about myself, taking a good, strong, honest (even harsh) look at my own demon of despair. Curved in on myself, self-focused, self-absorbed, self-pitying: yep, that sounds about right! Indulging this is indulging the Old Adam in myself, and denying the power of the Holy Spirit to bring change to me. In fact, denying the power of the Holy Spirit, period. Which leads to the biggest reason despair is one of the Seven Deadlies: idolatry. Despair is denial that God is indeed God, and that the future is in God's care and keeping. Despair leads me to think that I know the future, and that God cannot turn it around, cannot use me even if my worst fears come true, cannot be in control if things happen differently from what I want. Instead, my despair is in control, which is a way of saying I am in control. And I have just put myself in the place of God.

The Second: Procrastination. I'm really good at this one. I can put anything off, until it is too late and it doesn't matter anymore. This is the sin I bring to God more than any other. When there is that pause for reflection right before the prayer of confession in the Brief Order, usually I am confessing something I have procrastinated about in the past week. In the case of the Churchwide Assembly, it is procrastinating on preparations. Yes, I've been busy. Yes, there have been some unexpected things pop up, especially in the last six weeks. Yes, it has been difficult to keep focused with some of the information that has been revealed recently. But I have procrastinated on some things that I needed to get done. And now I am scrambling. And some things won't get done, or won't get done right. And they could have. Once again, I will come to God with my faults on full view. And the procrastination feeds right in to the despair I talked about above. And it also works well with number three, coming up now:

The Third: Not Praying. I can pick some really bad times to get distracted from prayer. These last two weeks coming up on the Churchwide Assembly is probably the worst time to not be faithful in prayer. But I haven't been. Oh, I haven't given up praying altogether. But it is the kind of "prayer in a hurry" that doesn't really satisfy. Now, I know that God isn't keeping a tally sheet of how many minutes I spend in prayer per day; nor is He docking me "points" for giving him short shrift most days out the past few weeks. But that's just it: I'm not hurting God when I do this. I am just hurting myself. I am cutting myself off from the one thing that I know brings me strength and peace, even in the midst of things that I cannot control. Why? The Old Adam part of me, the one that has a weak spot for procrastination and despair.

So. Now that the Assembly is almost here, how do I prepare for it? Even though the past two weeks are full of missed opportunities, it is not too late. Jesus met me this morning in worship, in the Word read to me and by me, in the sermon that I preached about Jesus being present for us in the bread and wine of the Eucharist, and then in the meal itself. Jesus fed me himself, and he is part of my body as I come into the city of Minneapolis, as I come into this week. My prayer book is next to my computer, and it will not be far from my hands throughout this week. I have heard from many who are praying for the ELCA in this week, and some who are praying for me. That is strength for the journey, and also impetus to make the time for my own prayers, for reading of the Psalms, and being attentive to the daily Scripture lessons. I have a bookmark list of music videos, courtesy of Youtube, that I will be going to in order to combat the despair that may come; and I will share some of those here. And I know the schedule of this week will keep me too busy to have time to procrastinate!

And Jesus is here, and will be here at the Assembly this whole week. I will see Him, both in the places I expect to find Him and in those unexpected surprising encounters where I wasn't looking for Him at all. I believe I will find Him present in and with those who are working for the same things I am working for; but I also think I will find Him in and with those wearing the rainbow stoles and the rainbow shawls, those working and praying for what I oppose. For all of us gathered in the Convention Center this week, with all of our contradictory and opposing agendas and prayers and hopes, I bring this prayer of St. Patrick:

"Christ be with me, Christ within me,

Christ behind me, Christ before me.

Christ beside me, Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort and restore me,

Christ beneath me, Christ above me,

Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,

Christ in hearts of all who love me,

Christ in mouth of friend and stranger."