A Language for Proclamation

(A sermon for the Feast of Pentecost)

The closest I have ever come to experiencing anything like what the people of Jerusalem experienced on that first Pentecost came at the death of the late Pope, John Paul II. Like many around the world, I tuned in through the televised broadcast to watch the huge crowds gather in Rome for the funeral in Vatican Square. It was with grateful surprise that I realized, “I understand the words!” My rudimentary high school Latin, augmented over the years with some church Latin in a rather hit-and-miss fashion, kicked into gear at hearing the words of the Mass.

“Dominus vobiscum.” “And with thy spirit,” I replied to the television set. Not exactly a miracle, and certainly not in the category of what happened on that early morning in Jerusalem; and yet I and countless thousands were joined as one through what is usually described as a dead language. Perhaps this is a needed reminder that, with God, what seems dead is improbably alive, and what is old and dusty in human terms can be made new in service to the eternal Word.

Whether it is the church speaking in one universally understood language, such as Latin, or the church attempting to speak in as many human languages as possible, the struggle to bring the Gospel of Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, to all nations and languages and peoples is at the heart of this day. I often tell my students in confirmation instruction that each time the Bible has been translated, the impetus has arisen out of the need to bring the story of Jesus to more people in yet another language. From Hebrew to Greek, Greek to Latin, and then Latin into countless languages, the Holy Spirit has unscrambled the confusion created at Babel for the purpose of witness and proclamation. But unlike the construction of the tower, this single purpose and voice is to proclaim not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord: crucified, dead, buried, and then risen from the dead, now living and reigning to all eternity.

This work of translation and proclamation to all peoples in all places has not been without controversy, opposition and even danger. The history of the translation of the Bible into German, English, French, Spanish, and other emerging languages in Europe in the time of the Renaissance is one of daring as well as scholarship. Earlier, missionary bishops who traveled into the Northern reaches of the known world spoke the story of Jesus Christ to those who had not yet heard, often struggling to learn the native tongues of various tribes and peoples who as yet had no written language. Other Christians, finding themselves among those who had never heard the Gospel, took upon themselves the task of preaching the good news, and of translating this Word into words understandable for generations, even centuries, to come. A few days before Pentecost this year, the Church remembers just such a missionary, John Eliot, a Puritan emigrant to the Massachusetts Colony in 1631 who took up preaching to the Indians of New England, learning their language and translating the entire Bible into Algonquian, the dialect of the native people in his area. In 1663 this became the first Bible in any language to be printed in North America. This came at a time when many good Christians argued whether the native peoples in the Americas even had souls, and could become Christians at all.

Recently, I and others in the ELCA have had the experience of hearing the Gospel preached back to me from those who only a few generations ago were the recipients of missionaries from this country. The Oromo people of Ethiopia, a number of whom have immigrated to the United States, have become partners with those of us here in the ELCA. I have heard some of their preachers, both ordained and lay, proclaim the strong message of the good news of Jesus Christ, that death cannot stop him or his Advocate who comes bearing witness to the truth. They have told me their stories of courage in the face of persecution, of witness in the face of prison and death. They have learned my language in order to bring back to me a reminder of what being a disciple of Jesus Christ is all about.

At times it seems that the Church, rather than being a place of clear proclamation spoken with one understandable voice, is instead Babel reborn. Different denominations speak in a confusion of tongues, emphasizing matters that seem to run contrary to one another. All point to the one Lord and one Scripture, but the differing interpretations seem to bring many to increased perplexity rather than enlightenment. The Church seems to be obsessed with an inner dialogue, even argument, with itself, splintering over and over again in quarrels great and small, over matters at times gravely important and at other times gravely non-essential. We appear to be so embroiled in disputes among ourselves that the work of bearing the Gospel to the nations and peoples at times falls to the wayside; and in fact, in many places modern Christians contend that this type of proclamation is misguided, oppressive and just plain wrong.

But today, in my own language, I hear a different word. I hear it from the Oromo churches in Minneapolis and Saint Paul; I hear it from the Rosebud Reservation, and from the Woyotan Worshipping Community in Rapid City; I hear it from Pastor Natanael Lizarazo, ELCA pastor from Colombia; I hear it from Bishop Victoria Cortez of the Nicaraguan Lutheran Church of Faith and Hope; I hear it from Pastor Constanza Hagmaier, an ELCA pastor from Germany. I hear that the Word became flesh and dwells among us, and that his light shines in the darkness and nothing can extinguish it. I hear that the Advocate comes to bear witness to the truth that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead, and that, in the words of Peter, “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Acts 2.21)

The Advocate continues to blow the Word of God into and through the Church, sometimes in spite of the Church as an earthly institution, always calling the Church back to its true vocation as witness and proclaimer. Without his presence, we are still in the upper room, talking amongst ourselves. But Pentecost morning dawns once again, and a rumbling and a rushing sound of a mighty wind is coming: to us, through us, lifting us up and out into the streets and highways. The Word speaks again, using our voices, and we hear the voice of the Lord coming out of us, and out of you, and out of those whose languages we did not know. And with one voice we begin to speak: “In the name of the Father, and of the +Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

For the Record

Arresting people because they are gay or lesbian is wrong.

Sentencing anyone to serve time in prison, especially fourteen years at hard labor, because he or she is in or wishes to be in a relationship with someone of the same gender, is cruel and inhuman punishment.

Not speaking out against such miscarriages of justice is wicked.

Here is the story, reported by the BBC, as it has unfolded in Malawi:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/world/africa/10130240.stm

Pray for these two men.

Write the U. S. State Department and encourage Secretary Clinton to use the influence of the United States to free these men.

Support the work of Amnesty International.

Don't just say you love the sinner, even though you hate the sin.

Do something.

What I Said

Since the name of this gathering this morning is "Steadfast in the Word: Toward a Renewed Lutheran Church," I thought I would begin with the Word. I will start my presentation with two brief readings from the New Testament.

From the 15th chapter of St. John: "I am the true vine and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing."

And from the 12th chapter of 1st Corinthians: "For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. . . . The eye cannot say to the hand, "I have no need of you," nor again the head to the feet, "I have no need of you." On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensible, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor. . . . But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it."

Renewal in the Church begins with Jesus Christ. Renewal in the Church is always the work of Jesus Christ. Renewal in the Church is the gift given by Jesus Christ to those whom he has chosen to be members of his body, by grace, through his precious death and resurrection.

Renewal is not something we choose to do or choose not to do, as the fancy strikes us or as the moment may seem more or less opportune. Jesus Christ is always at work renewing his Church. Did we not hear in the reading from Revelation last Sunday the words from the One seated on the throne: "See, I am making all things new?" He will be renewing his Church without asking our permission to do so, without checking first with us to see if the moment is practically or politically expedient. He is Lord of the Church, and this is what the Lord of the Church does. He brings renewal so that the Church, his body, can be about the mission of living in the Great Commission. Insofar as the ELCA is part of the earthly, visible Church that confesses that Jesus Christ is Lord, the Lord of the Church is working for the renewal of the ELCA.

So if you have come here today ready to wash your hands of the ELCA, ready to write off those who have made decisions that you believe are in error and go against Scripture, ready to give up and move on and away from a church body that you believe is sinful and unclean -- well, you are going to be disappointed.

What the Word tells us is that Jesus is about bringing renewal and new life, even when we are convinced that the body is dead and gone to dust. Jesus is about renewal and resurrection of those dead in their trespasses and sins.

Now, as a Lutheran, I must listen to that Word. And I am convinced that Lutheran CORE can serve that Word by continuing to be about renewal and reformation within the Lutheran expression of the Christian Church. And yes, that includes being about renewal and reformation within the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.

However. However, that renewal and reformation will need to take a different form, different tactics, than was the way of working for renewal and reformation prior to the Churchwide Assembly in August of 2009.

This where a lot of people are getting the wrong idea. What Lutheran CORE needs to turn away from is the idea that political reform, centered in the political structure of ELCA synod assemblies and churchwide assemblies and conference meetings and elections by quota and careful looking at the changing demographics and social structure of the secular culture to meet the emerging needs of the emergent church -- that all of that will somehow bring about the Kingdom of God.

Political work was tried. We did the best we knew how to do, and we tried to do that work honorably. And the votes last August went against us. Returning to assemblies over and over again, year after year, throwing more resolutions into the political constitutional system of the ELCA, only for them to get ground up and re-written and either defeated or passed in a form that none of us can recognize, and expect a different outcome from that process, is the definition of insanity. We now know that that kind of activity will not accomplish the reformation and renewal of the part of the Church of Jesus Christ that is known as the ELCA.

So what are we going to do? I believe we have three choices before us. One, do more of the same. (Some of that is happening this year in the synod assemblies.) Two, leave the ELCA. (And for some that is the right decision.) Or three, stay differently. Stay as a community of confessing Lutherans.

Lutheran CORE needs to focus on living the mission of the Great Commission, and on supporting and connecting those Lutherans who are committed to that mission of Jesus Christ in his Church, for the sake of the Word. Lutheran CORE will be that support, that connection, for those remaining in the ELCA, those who trust that the Lord of the Church is still at work renewing and reforming his Church, even if right now we can't see it.

But Lutheran CORE is also committed to coloring outside the lines of all of the Lutheran denominations going forward. Where in the first five years of its existence Lutheran CORE worked exclusively within the ELCA, to work with those traditional orthodox ELCA Lutherans working to defeat proposed policy and constitutional changes, now Lutheran CORE is committed to connect those traditional orthodox Lutherans regardless of which church body they find themselves in. Those within the ELCA will still, through Lutheran CORE, be able to maintain a connection with those who have left the ELCA for other Lutheran bodies, and also with those who may have never been in the ELCA but who see in the issues and struggle here a mirror of what is happening in other Lutheran bodies around the globe.

Lutheran CORE is not becoming a new denomination. But it intends to work with those in a number of Lutheran church bodies who find that what they confess together in this time of challenge (from those claiming that the Spirit is doing a "new thing") gives them a unity in Christ that cuts through the old denominational barriers. It is that community of support, of prayer, of mission, and of communication that will commit itself to learning from one another in order to be about the main thing, the mission of confessing Jesus Christ is Lord to the four corners of the globe.

Now I want to say something that we all need to attend to. One of the main temptations that all of us face right now is the temptation to make the decisions of last August, and to make the ELCA itself, the scapegoat for our own failure to live out that mission of confessing Jesus Christ is Lord to those who are outside of the Christian faith. Even in those instances where the news of the Churchwide Assembly has been received badly in one's own local community, it is too easy to say, "Well, we have to leave the ELCA or else we will cease to grow as a congregation; or we'll lose all our young people; or we'll lose all our good givers; or we'll lose the families that are the backbone of the congregation."

Each of us needs to be honest about our own short-comings. How many of us are tithers to the congregations in which we are members? How many of us have asked one person in the last year to come to church? How many of us have prayed with another person outside the walls of the church building, or have daily devotions in our own family, or told someone else of the hope that is in us because Jesus is risen from the dead?

If you aren't doing any of those things now, what makes you think that leaving the ELCA for another church body is going to make a difference for you? Even if that other church body is one that you are sure is closer to what the Bible teaches, how do you know that you will personally be changed? So don't blame the ELCA for your own failure to live as witnesses that Jesus Christ is Lord, risen from the dead, in your own community.

Now, things have changed. There is no going back to what things were like before last August. The ELCA has been changed, and we also are changed. We cannot go forward as if nothing has changed, or as if the changes don't and won't affect us.

Remember the reading from 1st Corinthians? We are part of the one Body, and we are inter-connected and inter-dependent on each other. That's a word we are hearing repeated a lot right now in the ELCA. Inter-dependent. The different expressions of the ELCA are inter-dependent, we are hearing said over and over. The constitution of this church is set up that way, so that congregations and synods and the churchwide level are all inter-dependent upon each other.

But it isn't the ELCA constitution that makes us inter-dependent. The constitution is the law, and the law (or Law) doesn't make us one. That's the work of the Gospel. It is Jesus Christ who has brought us into his body in an inter-dependent relationship with him, as he is in an inter-dependent relationship within the Holy Trinity, the Son with the Father and the Holy Spirit. And this Triune God, who needs to depend on no one, especially a creature, has chosen to become dependent on sinful human flesh. That's the Incarnation, as God chooses to depend on human beings for everything to sustain life, even to giving to human beings the responsibility of bearing the Gospel to the world.

What is the main thing about being inter-dependent? It is that what happens in South Dakota matters and affects what happens in the body of Christ, whether in St. Paul, Minnesota or Chicago, Illinois, or in Florida or California or New York. And what happens in those places matters to us here. So what happens in a congregation in Atlanta, Georgia matters to us because we are all part of the one body, interdependent on one another. And so we must continue to express that concern for one another, even if on the surface it would seem that what a congregation in the Metro New York Synod does and who it might call to be a pastor would have nothing to do with what happens in a congregation in Huron, or Highmore, or Mitchell, or Sioux Falls.

It seems that, at times, those trying to hold the ELCA together are encouraging us to abandon the idea that we are one body in Christ, and that what happens to another part of the body is my concern, my business. Unity cannot be based on that kind of divorce of one member of the body from another. That is as schismatic and devisive as any action of any congregation to leave the ELCA for another denomination. In fact, I would argue that is more schismatic, because it is based on a false unity, a unity that is only on the surface, that urges us to ignore the disagreements that leave too many unable to support the work of their synods and their national church ministries.

Lutheran CORE, however, is living and promoting that inter-dependence that is spoken of by both Jesus and Paul. We need each other, in order to help each other keep the main thing the main thing. We need each other in order to not be consumed with focusing on the negative things that we see happening or that we believe are happening. We need each other in order to support and encourage one another to live in forgiveness and love for one another, abiding by Martin Luther's explanation of the 8th Commandment to defend and speak well of others in the ELCA, and to put the best construction on what others say and do.

Living as a confessional movement in the Church, being the change that we want to see happen in the ELCA; refusing to undermine the ELCA while at the same time resisting what we cannot agree to support as our consciences are bound to the Word of God; confessing our own sins and failure to be "little Christs" to others and to love our neighbor as ourselves: that is what we are called to in this moment in the Church's story.

It is not easy. But don't kid yourselves. It is NEVER easy. We are being challenged, not by the ELCA nor by those who have worked for the policy changes of this past year, but by the Holy Spirit witnessing to the presence of the Risen Lord Jesus among us, to live as witnesses to those for whom Christ died. We are not being called to re-shuffle the alphabet soup of denominational names, or to trade members among our various congregations and church bodies (some sort of "I'll send my liberal members over there and you send your conservative members over here" action). Rather, we are being called to travel the road of discipleship, telling others the story of Jesus and baptizing in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, and teaching others to observe all those things that Jesus has taught us. (Even as we confess that we have failed to observe all those things ourselves: Lord, have mercy.)

And we are being called to do this because Jesus gives salvation to us, and to the world, as a free gift of grace, undeserved by any of us.

This is the adventure that we are being called to live. Lutheran CORE is striving to enter into the renewal and reformation that Jesus Christ is bringing about in his Church. As you live in your own communities and congregations, the first question is not, "How can I leave the ELCA?" Nor is it "How can I change the ELCA?" It is instead, "How can I live in faithful obedience to Jesus Christ, and witness to his power in my life and in this community? How can the congregation that I am a member of be a place of mission and evangelism, calling those who do not believe to rejoice in the gift God gives us through the call to repentance and new life in Jesus Christ?"

Here are some practical ideas for living as a confessional movement in association with others concerned for the witness and teaching of their church:

Pray with and for others. Pray for your pastor, and for your bishop.

Don't repeat rumors. Don't have secret meetings. Don't believe the worst, or ascribe the worst motives to others. Check out what is going on before you leap to conclusions.

Spend less time on the internet and in chat-rooms and on-line communities. Be with those flesh-and-blood brothers and sisters involved in mission.

Stay connected to others who support you, and support others who are struggling in all of this. Resist the temptation to demonize and speak ill of those who are being reinstated onto the roster of the ELCA. Pray for them instead.

Volunteer to teach Sunday School, or to be a visitor to those who have come to your congregation for the first or second time. Ask God to send to you and the congregation you are in people who have never been baptized. Ask God to teach you how to speak to those who have never been to church.

And read either Romans 12 or 1st Corinthians 13 every day. In closing, I leave all of you with some of that chapter right now. Remember, that ultimately this love being spoken of is the love of Christ that he shows to us; without that, we cannot hope to have this kind of love in us.

"Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. . . For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love."

To Witness Through Love

Acts 11: 1-18

Revelation 21: 1-6

John 13: 31-35

There are five little words at the beginning of the Gospel text that are very important to understanding what Jesus is saying. "When he had gone out. . . ." Just who is this "he"? Well, it is Judas. Judas the betrayer. Judas the traitor. In the verses just before, Jesus dipped his bread in the bowl and handed it to Judas, saying, "Do quickly what you are going to do." Judas then leaves the meal with Jesus and the other disciples, and goes out to lead the soldiers and others to the Garden of Gethsemene, where Jesus will be betrayed. Judas goes out, and the Passion of our Lord begins.

So why is it that Jesus then says, after Judas has left, that "Now the Son of Man has been glorified"? Haven't you ever wondered about that?

Jesus is proclaiming he is now glorified because his work on the cross has begun. In the Gospel of St. John it is made clear that Jesus' glory doesn't come only at the time of his resurrection, as wonderful as that is. Instead, his time of glory comes when he is crucified. It is on the cross that John 3:16 is fulfilled, that God sends his only beloved Son to save the world. It is the cross that makes salvation possible; the cross that re-unites all of us fallen, sinful human beings with the perfection and holiness of the Father. Jesus isn't defeated on the cross! Instead, he rules from the cross, as he carries out the plan of salvation, the light that shines brightest in the darkness of the cross and the grave.

Now the rest of what Jesus is saying to his disciples, and later to us as his followers through the church, can be clear. None of us can do the work that Jesus has been sent to do. We can't save anyone, not those we hold most dear, not even ourselves. We can't take on the work of salvation, neither through the good things we do, nor by the suffering we may face. Only Jesus can do that. So we can't go where Jesus is going: to the cross, to the grave, into death for others. Jesus does that alone, and he does it accomplishing all that needed to be done. His final words from the cross are "It is finished," meaning that the work of salvation has been completed, accomplished, finished once and for all in him.

But now, having been saved by what Jesus did on the cross, we are called by Jesus to live as witnesses to others of what he has done. And what does Jesus say is the way we are to bear witness to him? To live in love for one another. "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."

This love is both breathtakingly simple, and horribly complicated. Sometimes showing love means curbing one's tongue, swallowing one's anger, refusing to bear grudges and refusing to insist on getting one's own way. At other times showing love means standing one's ground, calling others (and one's self!) to repentance, citing the Law of God, and holding to standards and hard teachings.

Sometimes showing love means treating one another with gentleness and forbearance. Other times showing love means letting others experience the hard consequences of their actions, even rejecting the actions and decisions of others.

How is anyone supposed to know what is the proper way to show the love of Jesus to others in the church, in any particular situation? What does showing love to one another, to fellow disciples in Christ, supposed to be like?

And what if we disagree over this? What if we get it wrong?

Well, we will disagree! And we will get it wrong. That's a fact of sinful human life, whether inside the church or outside of it. Some will recommend the spirit of gentleness at the same time as others will recommend the Spirit of strength and reprimand. And sometimes it might be possible that both are right at the same time. Jesus asks for us to witness to him, and even he recognizes that he himself is a stone that others will at times stumble over. Jesus causes us to stop, and think, and question, in order to be led by the Holy Spirit sent from the Father to keep us in the way of the truth and the life. But Jesus is also the light, revealing always that it is not our love, or our faithfulness, or our getting this love right, that saves. Jesus saves. We follow and point to him in witness.

So Peter, a faithful Jew following the Law that God gave to Moses and his people at Mount Sinai, Peter is told to break that holy law and eat with Gentiles, eat their food, even eat unclean animals, in order to witness to the living Jesus among the Gentiles. Peter is called on the carpet for this, and has to explain that now showing love to those saved by Jesus will mean finding ways to welcome the Gentiles who have received the gift of the Holy Spirit. And at the end of the Bible, God comes to make his home among human beings, and the holy City of the New Jerusalem comes down to earth. God lives among us! God shows his love finally by dwelling among us forever!

In this time of Easter, in this time of synod assemblies, in this time of congregations looking for ways to live as faithful witnesses to the message of the living Word of God, Jesus Christ, we go back to Jesus' words in the Gospel. He is glorified when the time of his betrayal and crucifixion had come. He is glorified when we live trying to show his love to one another, because Jesus has asked us to do so. We try to witness to that love so that others can see that, even when we disagree with one another over matters great or small, we continue to live and act and speak out of that love that Jesus showed to the world, and continues to show to us. His love was willing to go to the cross for the sake of a world that even betrayed and denied and killed him.

In our love for one another, are we willing to go so far? Having been saved by Jesus, even though we do not deserve either his love or his salvation, can we live with one another, showing the love of Jesus to one another? What will our witness be to the world outside of the church, outside of the walls, outside of our circles of agreement and support? What will others see and know from how we treat one another, and them? Will they know we are Christians by our love?

Southern U.S. Hit Hard: How You Can Help

The Southeastern Synod of the ELCA sent out an email alert this afternoon regarding the recent trio of disasters to hit in the past few days. From the ongoing oil spill along the Gulf Coast, to tornados in Mississippi last weekend, to the current flooding situation in Tennessee, especially in Nashville, the South is being hit hard. But Lutheran Disaster Relief is there. Here is information on how to contribute to LDR, as well as the other information contained in this news release. Please keep all those affected by these events in your prayers, and give of your treasure if you are able. Because of my own connection to this area, growing up in Tennessee and with many friends and family members still in this region, I plan to be doing both for some time to come.

Southeastern Synod Disaster News

Photo by John Partipilo (The Tennesean) View from above looking out over First Avenue in downtown Nashville, TN as flood waters continue to rise on Monday morning, May 3, 2010. NASHVILLE FLOODING On Saturday and Sunday, May 1 - 2, middle and west Tennessee areas were inundated with water, 10-15 inches of rain in two days. Interstates 24 and 40 were underwater at places both east and west of the city; Opryland Convention Center and the Second Ave area in downtown Nashville were flooded as the Cumberland River escaped its banks. The Bellevue area in West Nashville was particularly hard hit with many people evacuated from their homes in boats. Area Lutheran churches are all secure but most received some minor water damage. Many church members had to be evacuated from their homes. Holy Trinity is in the Bellevue area. Pastor Gretchen Person was unable to get there yesterday and we have no word yet today. Further west at Rauwood, a Middle Tennessee Lutheran Camp and Retreat Center, major damage was suffered with their log cabin washed away and much damage to other structures. For up to the minute news, go to http://www.tennessean.com/ or http://www.wsmv.com/index.html. Donations may be sent to the Synod Office or to Lutheran Services of Tennessee. ELCA-Southeastern Synod 100 Edgewood Ave., Suite 1600 Atlanta, GA 30303 note "Tennessee Flood" on memo line OR Lutheran Services in Tennessee P.O. Box, 60597, Nashville, TN, 37206-0597.

Tornadoes in Mississippi The path of destruction left by severe storms in the southern United States begins in Yazoo City, MS, where a massive tornado touched down last week and traveled for more than 100 miles. Hundreds of homes have been destroyed or heavily damaged, and at least 12 people were killed. Affected communities are now beginning the process of recovery, and Lutheran Episcopal Services in Mississippi (LESM) and Lutheran Disaster Response (LDR) are both playing vital roles in that work. Sandra Braasch, Lutheran Disaster Response coordinator with Lutheran Episcopal Services in Mississippi, serves as president of the Mississippi Voluntary Organizations Active in Disaster (VOAD), and in that role, she works closely with partners in various faith-based, secular and governmental disaster response organizations. In coordination with local emergency response personnel, LESM has been involved in assesments on the ground and debris removal, and is currently working to help set up an on-site volunteer camp. Lutheran Disaster Response has issued an emergency grant of $10,000 to Lutheran Episcopal Services for use in these early days of response. Additional funding, and non-financial resources, may be available as the full scale of need becomes more clear. A press release from the ELCA News Service, which details this grant and shares additional information about the unfolding response in Mississippi, can be found here. For information on how to make a gift to support the recovery efforts click here

Oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico As oil from the sunken Deepwater Horizon platform continues to spread across the Gulf of Mexico, we lift up in prayer those whose communities and livelihoods may be impacted. Volunteers are needed to help with oil cleanup should it come ashore, but those volunteers need to be trained. Interested persons should go towww.oceansprings-ms.gov, to find a link to sign up for training. Lutheran Episcopal Services in Mississippi (LESM) has offered 2 camps in the area--Mission on the Bay, Bay St. Louis, MS, and Camp Victor, Ocean Springs, MS--as locations to house and train volunteers. More information will be forthcoming. For the latest information on the containment of the oil spill, visit the Deepwater Horizion Incident Unified Command Website,www.deepwaterhorizonresponse.com .

Further information about these and other emergency situations in our synod will be sent out as it becomes available. Go to http://www.ldr.org/ for the latest Disaster Response. Dear Lord, We lift up in prayer the many people affected by these emergencies, especially those who lost loved ones, and we ask God to comfort and protect them in the long process of recovery that lies before them. Amen

"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

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“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.