Faith907

Hawaii: A few photos and thoughts

2012-01-25T14:19:00.023-09:00

From 75F and sunny to 4F and not-so-sunny, I'm back in Anchorage. It's good to be home and sleep in my comfy bed. I miss the warmth, though, and the daily yoga and fresh meals so amply laid before me.

I returned Monday the 23rd and enjoyed a couple of quiet days by myself, as Erik went to the slope for a short assignment while I was away. He returns tonight.

Reunited with my laptop, I thought I'd post a few pictures.

To the left is Pr. Dave Kieffer, of Christ Lutheran, Mililani (Oahu). He took the time to tell me the story of his call to Mililani, explaining how the doors just opened and things just worked out (the sign of a call!) I also appreciated his enthusiasm for the projector they use in worship. I'm excited to try this at Central.

On the Big Island of Hawaii, I met Pr. Larry Hand, Lutheran Church of the Holy Trinity, Kona. Larry was welcoming and helpful. I honored that he asked me to preach on Sunday, Jan. 15, since he's only been at this call for about six months. I had a long conversation with Larry about how a pastor gets to know a congregation and how to figure out personal and professional boundaries as a pastor. The people at LCHT were so very kind and welcoming; I was blessed to be among them.

Then, of course, the yoga retreat at Kalani Oceanside retreat center, outside of Pahoa on the Hilo side of the island. Folks told me that this is how all of Hawaii looked before the high-rises and over-developed beaches. The Pahoa area is full of windy roads, locally-owned restaurants, and of course, the beautiful grounds of Kalani retreat center. I did a lot of yoga, of course, but I also attended a hula dancing class at Kalani. I learned how to dance the "seaweed" dance, a beautiful hula that reminded me of the Eskimo dancing I've seen in Brevig Mission. The other hulas I saw told stories of nature, of the land and sea, similar to the Alaska Native dances.

I traveled some around the area, too, visiting Volcanoes National Park, a local state park with a lava rock shoreline and a local fruit farm, owned by a fellow yoga student. I saw and tasted fruits I've never tried before: jackfruit, starfruit, rambutans and passionfruit.

When the retreat was over, I felt like I slowed down, slept well, and took time to be with people without rushing. I lost about two pounds, which I'd previously gained during the stressful and junk-food rich season of Christmas.

At the yoga retreat, I was, perhaps, overly anxious about navigating the waters of getting to know people while having to deal with their issues of religion and the church. In the end, I remembered that whatever I do and wherever I go, my primary identity is a baptized child of God.

Back home, I'm resting and (surprisingly) working on another sermon. I'm traveling Jan. 30-Feb. 1 to Everett, WA, for the annual Byberg Preaching Conference. The theme this year is a sort of "preaching lab," where several of us preach and the others critique. More on the assigned text and this sermon in another post!

Light on the yoga sutras

2012-01-20T21:20:00.002-09:00

Here at the yoga retreat, we spend a fair amount of time standing on our heads and twisting into pretzels, but we also learn about yoga philosophy. This isn't new to me. I took a class that included a survey of Hinduism in seminary. I studied the Bhagavad Gita and the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali when I trained to become a yoga teacher in 2007. The principles are very interesting and, while originally rooted in the Hindu faith, contain some greater truths.

I remember that it was a bit threatening to me, at first. I wondered if it was okay to dive so deeply into the pantheon of Hindu gods and participate in chanting that included names of their deities. As I've moved through my yoga "career," though, I've found more similarities (and understood the differences) in the two faiths and I'm at peace with being a yoga practitioner and a Lutheran Christian.

Many of my colleagues here at this yoga retreat have no such qualms; as mentioned in the last blog post, many are agnostic or atheist. It hadn't occurred to me that there might be some Christians.

I was sitting at lunch today when a woman about my age sat down next to me. We'd exchanged pleasant conversations earlier in the week but I didn't know her well.

After saying hi, she asked if she could ask a personal question. I said yes. She asked me: "As a Christian, do you ever have a problem with the yoga philosophy and chanting?" I was curious and said, "Why do you ask?" Turns out she's an adult convert to Christianity and has been attending a Four Square church, which I'm guessing is more "conservative" than the average Lutheran church. She had some qualms about yoga philosophy and Christianity.

So I told her my story and told her that over the years I've learned to use the lens of Jesus Christ (hermeneutic!) when I try to apply yoga philosophy to my own life. For example, yoga philosophy speaks of the Ishvara within, which means that something of the divine is inside us. I believe that is true but I call it the Holy Spirit. Other parts of the yoga philosophy don't directly relate to God but how to live. The first yoga sutra speaks about calming the fluctuations of the mind (can't argue with that) as a way to get in touch with the divine within (again, can't argue with that).

I told her that when I hear stories of Shiva and Vishnu and the other deities, I treat them as good stories, like myths, that I might glean a lesson from but don't have to treat literally.

She confessed that she was thinking about going back to school to study biology but was concerned about creation and evolution. Thankfully we just did a study on this at Central last year, so I was prepared!

I told her that I believe in God and evolution. I believe God gave us minds to study science but that all scientists bump up against mystery, which many identify as God.

I talked about the worldview of the people who wrote the Bible (they thought earth was flat on sitting on four posts above a primordial sea) and explained that Lutherans don't believe in a literal interpretation of Scripture.

Here is where we diverged, for she believes in 6 day creation. I didn't talk her out of it; I just listened, though I did offer to get the name of the book we used in Central's study on the topic.

In the end, the conversation turned back to the fact that, as far as we knew, there weren't many Christians here. I told her it was okay, because we can be a witness that Christians are "normal people" and that we can live our faith just by being who we are. Then she thanked me and said, "Your light shines bright." It's a lovely compliment, Christian or not.

Faith stories

2012-01-19T09:55:00.002-09:00

It's day four of this yoga retreat in paradise here on the Big Island. There's lots of yoga, ocean views, fresh fruit and time at the pool. I'm doing some reading, too; I'm working on "The Pastor," a memoir by Eugene Peterson (who wrote The Message Bible paraphrase) where he talks about his life and sense of call. It fits in perfectly with my sabbatical theme and I'm enjoying it.

I got to thinking about what to write on this blog this week. I haven't had any more huge Holy Spirit insights, nor am I ready to write a review of Peterson's book (since I'm not finished).

I thought to myself last night: If only I had something new to say about faith stories. Then while I was walking on a garden path alone with sky full of stars overhead, I realized I do have something to say.

Ever since people found out I'm a pastor I've heard a bunch of faith stories. I didn't think to call them that at the time, but that's what people have been telling me all week. It just hadn't occurred to me that they were sacred. But they are, even the tough ones.

I won't give names to my stories and the people who told me them are from all over the nation. None of these stories was solicited by me. I just sat down at breakfast, lunch or dinner and when someone asked me what I did and I told them, this is what they said. They told me their faith stories.

One woman told me she was raised baptist. She even worked for awhile as a youth leader at her church. She gradually begin to question her faith and there was no room in her tradition for those questions. She left the church and no longer believes in God. In fact, she said, every time our yoga teacher mentions "God," she cringes.

A woman told me she was raised Jewish. Almost all of the people on her father's side died at the hands of Hitler. She's a secular Jew now, she says, though she celebrates all the holidays. "They tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat," she said, a phrase that apparently applies to any holiday. She holds an annual Hanukkah party and one year it got so big that she had to hold it in a nearby Lutheran church. The pastor welcomed her in. She said it meant so much to her and that it honored her family members who died, because it was a symbol of unity and respect.

Two other women also were raised Jewish but are secular now. One said her religion was yoga. Another said she liked going out for Chinese on Christmas Day because it was the only restaurant open.

A woman who grew up in a small non-denominational church asked me a number of questions about ministry. She said she thought it was interesting because as she was growing up she had always wanted to be a missionary, but life took a different turn.

There are a few others, but those are the ones that stick with me. Those are their faith stories, told to me with honesty and openness. It reminds me to stay open to the stories yet to come.

Fitting in

2012-01-16T22:52:00.002-09:00

After only a two-week hiatus from Lutheran worship, I was truly comforted by getting back to "my people" at the Lutheran Church of the Holy Trinity in Kona. I preached there and lead an adult education forum this past Sunday.

After bopping around Oahu and the Big Island for 3 days by myself, it was like coming home. And it was church the way it speaks to me: liturgy, confession, lectionary, hymns I know, and, best of all, holy communion. My soul said "ahh."

The people of LCHT were gracious and supportive. I received a beautiful lei of orchids to wear and people hugged me like family and thanked me for coming. What's more, there were some Alaskans there! For you Central folks, I ran into Herbert and Kathryn Eckmann, Milf and Eleanor Knutson (well, former Alaskans) and Jonathan Ward. It was good fun to see my people.

So, awash in a Lutheran glow, I headed across the island into not-quite-as-familiar territory. I drove to the Hilo side of the island, dropped off the rental car and met up with fellow yogis taking the shuttle to the Kalani retreat center, about 45 minutes drive away.

The Hilo side is the rainy side and it down-poured along the way. When I arrived, I was surprised at the accomodations. I had expected a resort (based on the price charged and the glowing reviews from acquaintances). What I found instead (still nice, just not what I expected) was a more rustic camp which reminds me of a cross between the Bible camp I worked at in college (EWALU, Strawberry Point, Iowa) and what I imagine Holden Village to be.

The retreat center is a campus in a jungle. The accommodations are very simple, the buildings are older and the trails are muddy and rooted. The focus here is on organic food, sustainability, recycling and community (which I love). It's a spiritual community, which I love too, but I was missing my Lutheran connections already. There really is something special about gathering with fellow Christians. Still, I reminded myself about the spiritual practice of letting go and being open to the experience. One of my sabbatical goals is to allow myself to be surprised.

We are one of several retreat groups meeting here, doing yoga twice a day with plenty of free time in the afternoon to explore and relax. It is beautiful here and I feel myself slowing down.

I'm still a pastor, though, and most people don't know it. When I'm in situations like that, I have some anxiety about how I'll be outed.

So, I was sitting at dinner tonight with a fellow Alaskan who I'd just met. We were on our way to a yoga philosophy class that evening. He mentioned some "philosophy" that he discussed recently while he was "stoned," (his vocabulary). I smiled politely. There was a pause in the conversation and then he said, "So what do you do for a living?"

I smiled just as politely and said I was a Lutheran pastor. I always wonder if this will be a conversation stopper but it was a starter with this one. He was a former Catholic and asked me all kinds of questions about Lutherans, the Reformation and the like. I noticed more than one person at the table leaning in to listen.

It felt good, you know, to just be me.

The Aloha Spirit

2012-01-14T16:56:00.003-09:00

I've just returned from lunch and a drive with Larry Hand (pastor at Lutheran Church of the Holy Trinity, Kona) and his lovely wife Janine. This is the second day I've spent the afternoon among fellow preachers and it's good to be back with my people.

I'm in paradise here, of course, but I'm terribly homesick for my husband and I'm not keeping as much of a sabbath pace as I'd envisioned for myself.

I flew into Honolulu Thursday night, got a car, drove to a small motel on Waikiki and settled in for the night. The next day I hiked the Diamond Head Crater, strolled along Waikiki, had lunch near Pearl Harbor, drove to Mililani for an afternoon with Pastor Dave Keiffer at Christ Lutheran Mililani. Then I drove back to the airport, dropped off the car, flew to Kona, drove to the hotel and then had dinner at 10 pm at a lovely seaside restaurant. No wonder I'm tired.

So Pastor Dave was the first of my sabbatical pastor visits. He welcomed me warmly and told me the story of his congregation's partnership with a local pre-school and how he saw God's hand in his call there in Mililani.

We talked a bit about faith stories (Pastor Dave did them as part of stewardship once) and then talked at length about the projector they have mounted on their ceiling and the computer "command station" that runs it. Central people take note: this is slick, easy and professional-looking. I think I'm in love (with the projector). Can we get this done this year? Please?

We also talked some about the culture of Hawaii v. Alaska. There are the similarities I expected (feeling cut-off from the rest of the states, friends becoming family) but also differences. Pastor Dave told me (this was later echoed by Larry) that Hawaii has a fairly religious climate. People go to church and there's a culture of acceptance about it. I'm interested in these differences, especially since I read once that if you're a church-goer who moves to the Pacific Northwest you are likely to go to church less; if you're a non-church-goer who moves to Georgia, you're likely to attend worship more. Place matters.

I think of this a lot in our secular and spiritual-non-religious context of Alaska. Apparently, Hawaii is a different situation. I'm not quite sure how this impacts ministry here but I'm curious.

So, today after a more relaxing morning (slept in, run along a paved trail overlooking the beach, farmers market shopping), I met Pastor Larry and Janine for lunch. They, too, were warm and inviting. I felt particularly grateful that they took so much time to talk with me, drive me around the area a bit and show me around the church. On our drive we saw several ancient Hawaiian religious sites as well as beautiful ocean vistas. We also saw the best places to surf, Larry's past time.

When I asked Larry about my sabbatical themes, faith in daily life, vocation, role of church in modern world, I appreciated how he took the conversation in the direction of discipleship. We talked about Kierkegaard's comment that many admire Christ but not so many wish to follow What does it mean to follow Christ? Leaders in churches must model this for others. This would be a good thing to discuss as a congregation.

Larry had spent 12 years doing interim ministry in one of the Pennsylvania synods. He said that when he went into a new parish, he spent time with them reviewing their history, their stories. They made time lines together that showed the significant events in the life of the congregation and then people added their own experiences with the church and other notable events in the community. By taking the long look, people were able to see how their story fit into the congregation's story, he said, and gave folks a way forward. I also appreciated his comments about how during Bible study we can see how our story fits into God's story. This takes practice!

I'm trying to wind down now, and will look for a place for dinner shortly. I was, in part, so grateful for Larry and Janine's presence today at lunch because I'm weary of eating alone. I've never liked it and I've done it much more on this sabbatical than since I was married.

Tomorrow I preach and lead adult education at the church here in Kona, then it's off to Hilo and the yoga retreat, where I expect the real relaxation to begin.

Lessons learned (so far)

2012-01-12T11:39:00.003-09:00

I'm leaving for Hawaii in a few hours, the first of three big travels on sabbatical. The snow falling outside reminds me how starved for sunshine and warmth we all are this time of year (though the skiing has been great).

As I get ready to go, I've been reflecting on what I've learned or thought about so far, in a sabbatical only 11 days old.

1.) I'm nicer. You might think a pastor is always nice. Hardly. In my normal life, I rush around a lot and often don't make time to listen or talk to people, especially when I'm not at church. I noticed in the gym this week that I'm moving slower, holding doors open, asking people how they are doing and actually listening. Last week I spent about 5 minutes answering a woman who asked how to pick out the right running shoe. I'm nicer when I'm moving slower.

2.) I was tired. I don't mean physically, though I have been getting a lot more sleep. I mean I'm emotionally-mentally-spiritually-professionally tired. This is how I know: I was surfing Trinity Presbyterian's website last week before I worshipped there Sunday. It's a great website and I was really excited about some of their wording, ideas and themes. I thought: "Hey, we could incorporate some of their ideas and programming at Central, it would be awesome!" Then I thought about all the work it would take and I promptly wanted to go back to bed and sleep.

3). Don't work. Really. While working on the sermon for the folks at Kona this weekend was energizing, I made another choice this week that wasn't. I attended the AFACT action (public meeting) on Denali KidCare on Monday. I had worked very, very hard on the prep for this meeting but I didn't get to see the Promised Land of actually carrying out it. I wanted to watch the other leaders succeed, though. They did a great job. However, I left feeling frustrated, angry and hopeless. Not at the AFACT folks but at many who testified on the issue and at a state government that (in my opinion) ignores the needs of the working poor and justifies it with a "thin veneer of moral argument," to quote a friend who shall remain nameless. I'm mad and I got hooked and it feels like I had to start over again with the sabbatical rest.

4). I'm a better wife. I've had more time with my husband and I love it. I've been able to take on a few more domestic duties and I've made dinner for him several times. It's nice to be able to give more of myself to our relationship. I'm also nicer, see point one.

It's a good start. I look forward to what I'll learn in Hawaii. I'm not taking a laptop, so I'll only post here when I have access to a public computer. Time to slow down.

A pastor walks into a church...

2012-01-09T16:46:00.005-09:00

After spending most Sundays of the past six years standing in front of the church (which doesn't terrify me), I finally had a chance to walk in from the back (which apparently does terrify me).

I chose to attend Trinity Presbyterian in Anchorage on my first Sunday off on sabbatical. I chose Trinity because I'd heard great things about their creativity in worship and music. Also, a friend recommended it (he wasn't there on Sunday, though!) I checked out their website, which was terrific, and got excited to worship with these folks.

But then I had to walk in the door. I went alone and I didn't know anyone and I was intimidated. Though I was welcomed warmly at the door, I sprinted to the bathroom. Why was this so hard?

I didn't see anyone I knew and felt dumb just standing there by myself, so I got a bulletin (another friendly usher) and sat down about halfway on the left. I was early. As people slowly flocked it, I became more terrified that I was going to be in the front, because everyone sat behind me. I felt a palpable relief when a family of three finally sat down a few pews in front.

Now feeling better, I turned my attention away from my self-consciousness and to the place. I haven't been in many Presbyterian churches so I can't say what's normal. But I noticed that there was a cross at the back of the chancel area with a few small stained-glass windows. I also noticed a very small altar along front/right side with purple banners. Purple? The star of the stage was the band, front and center, with keyboard, guitar, drums and two vocalists. There were also three screens up front, which showed song lyrics and images throughout the service.

As I looked around me, the people were mostly white, apparently middle-class. There were elders, middle-aged folks, young families and quite a few children. Many people were in jeans; I might have been overdressed in my business casual clothes.

The band was good, but I didn't know most of the songs. Apparently I wasn't alone because many people didn't sing the first two songs. I didn't either, because though the words were up front, I struggled with the tune. Now I see why many folks at Central insist that the opening hymn be familiar. I felt dumb just standing there!

After the opening songs, we sat down for a children's sermon. The theme for the day was "Freedom," and the woman giving the children's sermon (not the pastor) talked to the kids about self-control. Then the kids went off to "Kid's Church."

Then Pastor Tom Letts appeared, dressed in a purple shirt and tan pants, no vestments or stole. (By the way, most of the leaders were in purple. What lectionary calendar is this? Lutherans are in the green season).

Pastor Tom led us in silent prayer and we sang another song. Then he preached on "Freedom," which is the first in a sermon series called "The Magnificent Seven." He used Galatians 5:1-14 as a primary text. Images and words appeared on the screen as he preached and the deliver was extemporaneous. He made a great deal of eye contact and moved around.

The main theme was, of course, freedom. He talked about finding freedom from guilt, self and fear. We saw a clip of "Braveheart," where William Wallace takes a stand against the British. He finished the sermon with two "absolute truths," which were: make a stand (don' t run away from fear, pain and guilt) and never make a stand alone. To emphasize this point, he asked everyone to stand and move into a tight group in the center where we stayed for the rest of the service. Again, I felt a bit uncomfortable but I think I wasn't the only one. We stayed there for another song (I'll Fly Away-- well done), offering, announcements and a closing blessing.

After worship, I went to the banner in the narthex that said: "7 minute party," where I learned from the bulletin that new people were supposed to go to meet a member and get a goody-bag. I received a small bag with chocolates and brochures about Trinity. See photo to the left.

Then I ran into the mother of a good friend and visited with her. Finally, I met Pastor Tom and "outed" myself as a fellow clergy (and a fellow Lilly Endowment recipient - Tom leaves for sabbatical in April). I felt much more comfortable after the service, though I think it was because I was able to find people to talk with.

As for the service itself, I found the theology very consistent with a Lutheran understanding of God's grace that comes undeserved. A seminary professor once said, "Did Jesus have to die for you to preach this sermon?" Jesus did have to die for Tom's sermon and it had a good take-home message.

As a good Lutheran, though, I missed the liturgy. I also missed having a more complete reading of scripture. There was only one scripture reading instead of the slate of lectionary texts I've come to appreciate. There was also no mention of the Baptism of Jesus (the festival for Jan. 8) or the liturgical season of Epiphany. And while the praise band did a good job, it isn't my favorite music. I had the sense that this style of worship is a bit "performance-based" rather than participatory.

I also really missed the Eucharist. I asked someone after the service about it and learned communion is distributed the first Sunday of every month. I felt incomplete as I left worship.

I'm not sure if the differences I noted are Presbyterian or Trinity specific. Even though some parts of the service came up short (for me), I appreciate what Trinity is doing. The people were friendly and welcoming (not scary as I'd feared) and the theology is mainline and gospel-centered. We need more of this kind of Christian voice in Anchorage!

We come bearing gifts

2012-01-06T17:55:00.002-09:00

Today is Epiphany, the end of the Christmas season and a date that commemorates the Magi's visit to the Christ child. In honor of the day, I took down our small Christmas tree, put away the Christmas cards and then cleaned the house for good measure.

I really like this season in the church year, since the texts are ones that celebrate the light of Christ and the way Christ is revealed (made manifest!) in our world. Of course I won't actually be in church all of the time, but part of my sabbatical is on how we see Christ in our world.

I also like this season because in Alaska, a little more light each week makes a big difference. I've already noticed that it's not pitch dark anymore at 5 pm and the light creeps in a little earlier each morning.

I saw my spiritual director yesterday. She's a lovely woman who listens well and offers well-timed insights. She asked me what I took away from yesterday's session. I told her it was all about gifts.

I've spent so much time thinking about and being amazed by what a gift this sabbatical is to me. I feel so thankful, so blessed, so fortunate, so gifted. She reminded me that as I travel, I will be a gift to others. In fact, that's really the entire point of being gifted in the first place. It may sound funny, but that had not occurred to me in connection with the sabbatical.

On this Epiphany day, that's my meditation. I have received so many gifts. I will (somehow, God-willing) be a gift to others.

It's your call

2012-01-05T15:18:00.005-09:00

After a long lunch with a dear friend, I'm spending Day 4 of my sabbatical working on a sermon.

This sounds wrong, of course. And I thought at first it would be but things have a way of working out.

I'm preaching Sunday, Jan. 15 at Trinity Lutheran in Kona, Hawaii. My intention was merely to worship with this congregation, since I'll be on the Big Island for a week for a yoga retreat and they are the only ELCA congregation on the whole island.

When I emailed the pastor to invite him to lunch and give him a heads up on my visit, he immediately invited me to preach. I hesitated. This is supposed to be my sabbatical, people! But I said yes because it's my default value.

Then this week I started working on the sermon. And wouldn't you know it? The text invites me deeper into some of the very questions I took this sabbatical to ponder.

The text is from John 1:43-51, where Jesus calls Phillip and Nathanael to be disciples. Phillip, apparently, was an easy sell, but Nathanael not so much. Nathanael asks a skeptics question, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" Instead of chiding him for his doubts, Phillip simply response, "Come and see."

Then, Nathanael meets Jesus and is impressed that Jesus recognized him from before. Nathanael responds by praising Jesus and following him. Later in John's gospel, this same disciple will witness the resurrected Jesus on the beach.

This story is part of Nathanael's faith journey (we can only guess at the rest) and is his call story. That's exactly what I'm reflecting on during sabbatical: faith stories and call stories. Phillip became a way that God's grace was revealed to Nathanael on his faith journey.

My premise is that getting in touch with our faith story can equip us to share our faith others and to invite them to "come and see," whether we use words or not. For believers, we are such because someone told us. How else could we know?

What do you think? Who shared their faith with you? How did they do it?

PS: Thanks to http://freechristimages.org/biblestories/jesus_calls_his_first_disciples.htm for the beautiful painting above.

Today is the first day...

2012-01-03T09:51:00.003-09:00

Today is the first day of the rest of my sabbatical.

It was supposed to be yesterday but I went into the office (no one else was there!) to clean out my email and clean up my desk. It's a tedious task but it sure felt better. My husband made me promise that if I did go in yesterday that I would not go back until April. He's right, of course, but it feel strange to be sitting here at home typing instead of in my office. Perhaps I'll get used to it.

For those who missed it, the sabbatical sending and blessing happened at the end of worship Sunday, Jan. 1. The service was led by the college students and young adults at Central, but I presided at the communion table.

The college youth shared a skit about Simeon and Anna visiting the infant Jesus in the temple (from Luke 2) and Youth and Family Minister Luis Ochoa shared a faith story. Luis talked about how he felt God's presence this past summer when his sister-in-law died suddenly and his wife struggled with a difficult pregnancy.

During the sabbatical blessing, members of my mutual ministry committee and the incoming/outgoing church council presidents led the liturgy. There was also a call and response reading with the congregation. We promised to pray for one another. I gave Central a candle to light during services when I am gone and I took an identical (smaller) one and it's sitting in our house.

After worship and many hugs as people left the sanctuary, we gathered in the narthex for brunch.

It's hard to describe my feelings. I'm so overwhelmed with gratitude for the support Central has shown me. I miss people already! Yet this feels like the right thing to do at the right time, a sort of "kairos" moment, to borrow a theological phrase.

One of the books I read to prepare for sabbatical said that pastors should expect to be surprised by what happens on sabbatical. The point is that you can't prepare for the experiences and insights you might gain. So, on this first day of the rest of my sabbatical, I'm starting to slow down and wonder how and where God might surprise me.

Sabbatical!

2011-12-30T15:27:00.002-09:00

It's almost time. I've been given an incredible gift: a three-month sabbatical from my work at Central Lutheran. My last Sunday is this one, January 1. I return in time for Passion/Palm Sunday, April 1 (no fooling).

Though I know Sabbath is biblical (a commandment, even!) it goes against my Midwest farm work ethic. My great-grandfather had a saying, "Boys, while you're resting, why don't you chop some wood?" This sentiment prevailed in my growing up years.

Yet I feel a deep desire to change gears, to reflect and study, to slow down and to reconnect with my other vocations of wife, daughter, sister and friend. And so it is time.

Over the coming months I'll be posting about my adventures, thoughts and experiences on the sabbatical. My theme for the sabbatical is faith stories, faith in daily life and vocation. I want to learn more about the stories of the faithful men and women in my own family. I will talk with other pastors about how congregations can be places that encourage members in their vocations and seeing God in daily life.

I'll also do things that "make my heart sing," which was the theme of the Lilly Endowment Clergy Renewal Grant, which Central was awarded (thanks be to God!) I'll travel to Hawaii for a yoga retreat with a beloved teacher, spend time hiking and playing in New Zealand with my husband and travel to Iowa to visit family and friends. I will also spend weekends cross-country skiing here in Alaska, reading, writing, praying, running and catching up on projects at home.

I'm thankful to the people of Central Lutheran who have supported me along the way and thankful to YOU who read this blog.

To your good (mental) health

2010-02-08T12:17:00.002-09:00

This happens to me all too frequently. I hear something interesting on the radio while driving (usually on public radio) and I can't remember who said it on what program on which day.

Still, a snapshot heard this weekend has stuck with me.

The reporter was interviewing an expert on mental health after traumatic events. The context was the trauma suffered by those in Haiti. The grief, of course, is overwhelming. The people of Haiti have lost loved ones, friends, limbs, property, homes and so much more. One is left to wonder, asked the reporter, how these people can survive with thier mental health intact.

The person being interviewed, suggested three ways. First, spirituality and/or a connection to something beyond and greater than the self. Second, doing productive work. Third, helping others. He went on to say the biggest mistake rescue teams make is to do all the work and not allow those in country to serve as they can. The human need to help others is basic, deep and necessary to our own ability to survive and thrive.

As I listened to this, I thought about these three things as a foundation for the mental health of everyone, not just those suffering an acute trauma. After all, grief and loss touch us all. We may not be actively grieving but to deny our grief and loss is to deny our humanity. We all need a spiritual connection, productive work and the opportunity to help others. In this way, we too not only survive but thrive.

On Christmas Eve Day

2009-12-24T10:41:00.002-09:00

The good thing about having two pastors on staff is that I only preach every other Sunday...and every other Christmas Eve. It's Glenn's turn this year.

Still, I find myself pondering (like Mary, but not really) all these things in my heart.

The other day, while driving about on Christmas shopping and grocery errands, I caught a segment of a public radio story about rebuilding schools in New Orleans. The reporter reminded us that many schools still are not rebuilt after Hurricane Katrina, more than 4 years ago. The story featured (and celebrated) one newly built.

I was thinking how I hear things differently once I've been to a place. I spent a week in New Orleans with high school youth this summer. We did Bible study and church and all that, but we also took a tour of the Lower 9th Ward and other ravaged places. We spent more than four hours pulling weeds and re-setting fallen gravestones in the mostly African-American Holt cemetary.

So, I've been there. And now I hear about that place differently.

Have you noticed this? It's not like, as people of faith, we don't care when we hear news stories, good or bad, about places like Honduras, Gaza, Bagram or Detroit. But if you've been there, everything is different. There's a level of knowing not attained by reading or hearing stories alone.

There's something, then, to Christ coming to Earth in human flesh. It's not so much that God needed to know what it was like to be human. Since God's knowing surpassed our own, I think God could have understood the human experience just fine from a distance. But perhaps God knew that we needed to know that God knows. Because he's been here.

And now, we can hear differently.

The Visitor

2009-11-09T15:31:00.002-09:00

Well, I sure hate to pat ourselves on the back too much. I am a Mid-west raised Lutheran, after all. But the review of Central by church visitor Chris Thompson in an Anchorage Daily news blog is too good not to share. Bottom line: Lutherans can be warm and fuzzy. Who knew?

Read here:
http://community.adn.com/adn/node/145236

Suffering, if one dares to speak of it

2009-10-13T16:42:00.002-08:00

I'm slightly shocked to find myself writing, blogging and musing on the texts for this coming Sunday...especially since it's only Tuesday. Truly, I'm more of a write-the-sermon-during-Garrison-Keillor kind of girl, but somehow this week I'm early.

And, as is the case lately, another tough, challenging passage from Mark (10:35-45) that reminds me that, like those early disciples, sometimes I just don't get it.

Or maybe I DO get it and that's the hard part. The last few weeks have included heart-warming texts like "poke out your eye if it causes you to sin" and "sell all you have, give the money to the poor" and don't forget "those who would be great must be servant of all." Let me tell you, this stuff does not sell.

This week's text from Mark is the one where James and John argue, with no little irony, about who would sit at Jesus' right and left hand in his glory. I guess they missed the point that Jesus glory was his cross and those spots ended up in the hands of thieves. It reminds me of a joke I heard where a sick priest in DC asked to see two prominent politicians on his death bed (insert politicians of your choice here). When they arrive and held his hands, one asked why those two were summoned. The priest responded he wanted to emulate his Lord Jesus Christ in every way, even dying between two lying theives.

Anyway, turns out what I'm really thinking about isn't theives or the cross or even the Mark text. I'm actually thinking about the Hebrews reading for this week, Hebrews 5:1-10.

This is the one about Jesus being a super-great high priest, even better than Melchizdek (whoever he was) and that Jesus, as high priest, suffered and became our eternal salvation.

Verse 8 has caught my attenion: "Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered."

A Bible commentator I read somewhere said there's a Greek word play here that's lost in translation. Learned is "emathen" and suffered is "epathen" and in the Greek they're closer together in the sentence.

It made me wonder what is learned through suffering. For Jesus, obedience, but what of us? We may learn submission to God, but I'd suggest we also learn. A lot. And then our suffering becomes available for empathy (from epathen), literally, "suffer with." I've noticed I'm often better suited to accompany a hurting person if I've actually been through a similar situation.

What do we learn from suffering?

Is all suffering redemptive?

If not, is it just pointless, empty, meaningless pain? (And why would God permit that anyway?)

And, to carry it further, do those who live as middle class residents of this country even understand what it means to suffer? Suffering is not a plunge in your 401 (k) or noticing that your cable TV line has gone out.

Well, this might be beyond the scope of this post. Others have written volumes on these sorts of theodicy questions.

And I'm still working on my sermon.

So for now, I'll note that at least Jesus' suffering was redemptive. He did learn something. Maybe it was obedience (another loaded word in our time) or maybe it was about the freedom that comes when there's no where else to turn and we are welcomed into the arms of mystery.

Diplomacy

2009-10-08T13:39:00.002-08:00

I heard a public radio story about Madeleine Albright, former SU Secretary of State, the other day. NPR fans may have heard it, too. The inteview highlighted her new book, Read My Pins and discussed how Albright used pins to suggest her mood or make small talk with foreign diplomats.

Though the stories of pins were interesting, there were two other comments that struck me most.

Albright said that a US president, in foreign relations, must be confident, not certain. Now, to be fair, she was comparing the past US president to the current officeholder. Regardless of your poliitical persuasion, the contrast between confidence and certainty is interesting.

I'd like to use her contrast to think about faith or even the role of a disciple of Christ. I think it does take a certain amount of confidence to be a follower of Jesus in a world (and state like Alaska) that is pretty foreign -- and skeptical -- of religion. Confidence works, certainty tanks. It's too arrogant, doesn't make way for doubt and leaves others behind.

So I'm considering how to live as a confident follower of Jesus, not a certain one.

Albright's second point perhaps needs no explanation. She was discussin relgion and said it's like a knife. You can use it to stab someone in the back or use it to cut bread.

The choice, of course, is yours.

Humility and greatness

2009-09-22T11:37:00.002-08:00

I was thinking about humility all last week.

The word didn't directly appear in the lectionary, but came twice near the passage from James. Now I'm not really the kind of girl who quotes James, but I am interested in this idea of humility. Here's what James says in 4:6 “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble," verse 10 continues: "humble yourselves before the Lord and he will exalt you.”

The rest of the James passage in the lectionary asks the question of true wisdom verses the wisdom of the world. I keep thinking about what it means to really be humble. Am I humble? Do I know someone who is? Do you?

I don't think God asks us to be a doormat. But I also don't think we ought to work so hard on our humility that we're proud of it.

I read someone else's blog last week that said humility means you have enough self-worth that you don't have to put others down. I like that.

It seems we're lacking this virture in the public realm lately: Joe Wilson's outburst at a joint session of congress, Serena Williams cussing out a line judge and Kanye West grabbing the mic way from another award winner at an MTV awards show. I used these examples in my sermon last Sunday and then added: I can't believe I just said "Kanye West" from the pulpit.

Anyway, I feel like we're losing something as a culture, whether it be humility or just simple human decency. Why is it so hard to be kind?

I tied this talk of humility into Jesus message in last week's gospel (Mark 9:30-37) about the question of who is the greatest. The disicples argue about it, then get emabarrased when Jesus asks about thier conversation.

Jesus doesn't reprimand them, just grabs a little child (a person of no status in Jesus' time) places it on his lap and says, "welcome this one and you welcome me." And of course the reverse is true. Jesus words are about radical hospitality, not some pastoral image of Jesus loving the little children.

I was thinking of all the people Jesus would put on his lap today to make us see what it means to welcome people of low status. Anyone we think beneath us sits securely in Jesus' arms.

The good news, of course, is that we rest there too.

ELCA Assembly, better late than never

2009-09-10T09:35:00.002-08:00

I'm referring to my comments on the subject, not on the assembly itself. Anyone who reads this blog likely already knows that the ELCA in August voted to allow congregations who choose to bless and publicly acknowledge same-gender, monogamous, publicly-accountable relationships and to call similar clergy if they so choose.

There have been many wonderful, creative, inspiring things written on the subject, as well as comments motivated by fear, malice and just some pure stupidity. I'll hope to err closer to the former. Here's my sermon at Central, preached the Sunday after the assembly vote. The sermon, from August 23, 2009, is based on the lectionary from that week, John 6:56-69, where Jesus says some hard words about eating his flesh and drinking his blood. Some turn away from following him; the road is just too hard. Jesus asks if others want to leave. Peter responds, in words we know from liturgy: "Lord to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life."

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In our text today, those who hear Jesus speak of eating his flesh and drinking his blood have difficulty with his teaching. This is a continuation of last week’s text. Remember? These phrases of flesh eating and blood drinking were particularly offensive to the Jews and, since they lived before the days of Holy Communion, they were not just offended but downright confused. Our text today tell us, a la Paul Harvey, The Rest of the Story.

After Jesus finishes his disturbing sermon, those assembled grumble and say: “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” The Greek here is skleros logos, a hard word, who can akouo, hear, it? A hard word. Jesus speaks a hard word. Or, perhaps, using the beginning of John’s Gospel (the Word was God and the Word was with God), maybe Jesus is the hard word. Either way, we disciples are left to deal with a hard word.

We are not strangers to hard words. Jesus has quite a few. Sell all you have and give it to the poor, pray for those who persecute you, love your enemies, forgive, follow me and, perhaps the hardest: love one another.

We are not strangers to hard words in our lives as well. Some represent life’s challenges (I’m going to issue a citation, you didn’t make the team, I think you’re an alcoholic) and some are very bad news (the cancer has returned, we’re getting a divorce, he died.) For some this week, the bad news was: It’s time for school!

I also want to address a couple of news items that were, for some, a hard word. Sometimes, a hard word for one might be good word for another. For example, Mayor Dan Sullivan vetoed an anti-discrimination act for the municipality of Anchorage. In the same week, our ELCA Churchwide Assembly met in Minneapolis and took the first steps toward recognizing same-gender, committed, life-long, publicly accountable relationships. Hard words? I want to note that no matter what side of the debate you find yourself, these words are still hard because as Christians we are mandated to love our brothers and sisters in Christ, no matter how wrong we think they are. More on that later.

Back to Jesus and our gospel story. Note what happens after Jesus speaks these hard words to those gathered at the synagogue in Capernaum. Some grumble. Jesus acknowledges that not all believe and that one will betray him. And then it happens: many disciples turned back and did not follow him any longer.

Why did they turn back? They had seen many signs, miracles like the feeding of the 5000, Jesus walking on water and the healing of the sick. Did Jesus words get too tough for them? Was he asking for too much of a commitment? Were those disciples just bored? Was it too inconvenient for them? Why did they turn back?

Notice Jesus’ reaction to their departure. He does not condemn them for leaving. He does not beg those remaining to stay steadfast. He does not back down from a hard word. He simply asks if anyone else would like to go away. Peter speaks up first. I can almost hear him singing the words: “Lord to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Peter adds: “We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

It’s another example of the upside-down, topsy-turvy nature of the Gospel, like the last becoming first and a king who gets crucified. The hard word is the word of eternal life.

But for some it’s too much. The word is too hard, the cost is too high. And for us? Do we shy from the hard words of Jesus? Would we prefer a Jesus of lambs and rainbows instead of one that asks us to risk loving the stranger or give of our time, talents and possessions? Do we sometimes turn away from the tough parts of Christianity, rather than remaining by Jesus’ side?

Yes. But, of course, our shortcomings are never the end of the story. It’s not our story anyway. It’s God’s, of course.

And God’s story, when we can muster it, looks something like this (point to the altar). God’s story has something to do about coming to the table (at Holy Communion) and then staying at the table with each other, even while hard words are spoken and even when we don’t agree. God’s story also has something to do with wrapping us in boundless love and mercy as we struggle love each other.

Earlier I mentioned the words spoken and decisions made at the ELCA Churchwide Assembly regarding same-sex monogamous relationships. I want to be clear. You are all welcome to agree or disagree with anything the Churchwide office says. It is not the core of what we believe. The message of Jesus Christ, born, crucified and dead will always be the most important Word. So, you can still stay at the table, even if the word is hard. You need not turn away.

I want to be clear on this point, too. There is life in hard words. There is life in staying in relationship and conversation with each other. There is life in loving your neighbor even if you don’t agree with him. There is always life in choosing love over hatred or judgment or fear of something that is different from you.

I want to end not with Churchwide business but with you. Where is the hard word for you? What is the hard word for Central? Who is God inviting us to love? How is Jesus asking us to follow? May we hear the words, remain close to Jesus and stay at the table with our brothers and sisters in Christ. Amen.

Victory! (Bible camp)

2009-08-12T20:03:00.003-08:00

I confess: I post on Facebook far more than I blog here. Is it the ease of the single line post? Maybe I should Twitter (or Tweet) too? That said, there is something to say for the longer written word. As one trained in journalism, I should know this!

I'm writing from Victory Bible Camp, Mile 95 of the Glenn Highway toward Glennallen. We're somewhere north of Sutton, in a place where I get decent Internet connections but poor cellular service. Ah, technology.

It's the annual Lutheran Summer Camp week here at Victory. We rent out the camp and the staff support us during the week. Our cookie plates at our tables in the cafeteria even say "Lutherans" on them. It's a nice touch.

Victory is nestled in valley. If you hike up, like I did today, you can see sweeping views of both sides of the valley and the Matanuska Glacier in the distance. The trails are shadowed by aspen and spruce and I picked blueberries and raspberries as I hiked.

The camp is divided by age groups: grades 3-6 are called "Alpine" and 7-9 "Koinonia." We share meals in common, as well as opening worship and evening campfire. Attendance is lower this year; we have barely 50 campers, I think fewer. But we have at least 20 high-school-aged counselors. About half of them are youth from Central's Drop-in-Center.

I can't remember if I've blogged on this before but it is incredible to see those young men at work. They've not been confirmed, I think most are unbaptized. But they've grown up at Central's neighborhood Drop-in-Center, then came to camp on scholarship, then as counselors. I would never expect those punk-looking kids in black hoodies to answer my questions about where to see God (in other people, one announced today) or help kids open up Bibles and encourage them during worship. And they do all the hand motions to the camp songs! It's a testament to all the people at Central who have nurtured these kids over the years. I'm really proud of them.

It's early evening now. The younger kids are doing Bible study, the older ones are playing Capture the Flag. There's a light breeze blowing across the lake. It's almost time for campfire.

Our theme this week is "Love to Serve," and today's theme was "Called to Serve." We talked this morning in worship about how camp is a holy, set away place. I wonder how God will speak to these kids this week. God must be saying something. They keep coming back, year after year. I pray they will hear God this week. I pray we all will.

After the flood

2009-07-25T11:45:00.002-08:00

I just have a few minutes to reflect on our youth trip to New Orleans for the National Lutheran Youth Gathering. We're here July 22-26. There are 37,000 Lutherans here, the biggest convention to come to the city since Hurricane Katrina.

Of course it's hot and humid but there are more important things to say. So, a few highlights so far.

The gathering folks divided kids into three major groups (gold, green and purple, Mardi Gras-style). Each group takes one day at each of three activities. The first day we did a servant project, day two we visited the learning centers and day three the interaction center.

For the servant project, we all donned orange T-shirts and went throughout the city doing good, or as best we could. Some visited schools, some built homes, others did yard work or weeding. I cannot imagine the logistics it takes to coordinate 12,000 volunteers each day. And they gave us lunch!

We volunteered at a traditionally African-American cemetary where graves are dug by hand just four feet deep and bodies are buried atop each other. The plot was covered in weeds and stones all akimbo. We spent about four hours yanking up weeds, bagging them, and setting headstones right again. Each stone is a life story, a web of relationships and it was powerful to brush off the dirt and place it right again. We hoped someone would keep working to beautify the plot long after we left it.

More later; it's time to get back to "my kids" as I call them and onto the next event...

One more night in Brevig

2009-07-16T23:52:00.002-08:00

The blog posting keeps getting later and later. It's almost midnight and of course the ATVs (they call them Hondas) are cruising by and I hear kids shouting and laughing. A few members of my Anchorage team are visiting softly. The weather is mostly clear without a breeze and several mosquitos have snuck in and buzz near my ankles.

Today was our last day of VBS and we were pretty exhausted when it came time for evening devotions. Good thing no one got up until after 9 am. Well, I got up a little earlier and went on a run to the dump and back. Hey, don't knock in 'til you've tried it! It's also the only long stretch of gravel road. It's too difficult to run on the beach.

It was less windy this morning than yesterday so I got in about 35 minutes, maybe 4 miles. The hills behind Brevig were clear. I like my alone time in the morning with the land and with the sea.

The kids had another good day of crafts and coloring, skits and songs. I love hearing them sing "At the Cross" at the top of their lungs, though it's often more a scream than a song. We made fish and glued them to a mural to hang on the church wall. The kids got pretty creative with their decorations. It's a very good mural with a few starfish too.

Susan and I went visiting just before Bible school started. I went to visit a woman I have known from my years here. She was the mother of the baby who died earlier this year and who I had visited at the native hospital in Anchorage. What a lovely hostess and what a beautiful story of faith despite difficult times. I was blessed by her sharing her story of her baby's life and death and how her faith held her fast. I was moved by the experience and her honesty.

Speaking of being moved, I got a surprise when one of the older teens called today and offered to lead Eskimo drumming and dancing tonight. I had seen him earlier in the week and made the request but he seemed evasive. So he came, along with a bunch of others, some to drum, some to dance, many to to watch.

The drums are just circles of skin stretched across big wooden hoops. The sticks look so frail but the sound is powerful, intense. I love the sound of the singing. It's repetitive, booming, haunting.

I love watching the leader, Travis, sing and play the drum. I'm not sure how old he is now, but when I first came in 2004 he was a middle school-aged kid who followed us around like an eager puppy. Now he's a man, the leader of the drummers, and one of the VPOs (village police officers). I'm so proud of him and it moves me to see him as he is now.

I could mention we also had our VBS program and community meal. A good time, always, but a smaller attendance this evening. Pastor Brian's wife Ginger said there was another meeting in town at the same time. Also, we'd forgotten to put up posters. Still, we fed at least 75 (that's adults and kids) so word does travel fast in the village.

Enough for tonight. The house is finally silent and I'm ready to turn in.

A dark and stormy night

2009-07-15T23:31:00.002-08:00

It's windy and cold tonight in Brevig, but of course not actually dark. There'll be no darkness here for weeks but the twilight is nice, too.

Today was day three of Vacation Bible School and we seem to be getting the hang of it. More kids today, since some have come back from the reindeer corral up river. I asked a few little ones if they'd helped and several said they had wrestled reindeer...hmmm. One told me they took the horns off some and put ID tags in others. It's an interesting world where you wrestle reindeer one day and go home the next to cable TV and internet. How do they toggle between two worlds?

Today's Bible story was the "lost and found" parables. Well, just the lost sheep and coin from Luke's gospel. The lost son is its own story. We acted out the skit to endless giggles from the audience. They liked watching the "shepherd" chasing the ever-evasive Lawrence (aka lost sheep). It's good to hear them laugh and hopefully get something out of the Bible story. Susan was played Jesus in the skit today and she said how good it was to get to tell the children many times that Jesus loves us and seeks out the lost. It is good. We (Christians) should say these things more often, I think, rather than trying to carefully outline the way others mess up.

Seemed like death became a topic of discussion again today but I don't mind. Helen is doing a paper for an academic program on the 1918 flu epidemic that struck Brevig (then Teller Mission). I had heard only bits of info on this in recent trips so I've appreciated learning more history.

In 1918 a flu epidemic swept through the Seward Peninsula, killing 72 of the 80 residents of Brevig. In 1951, a researcher from Europe came and dug up the mass grave to see if he could learn about the flu virus from the remains. Turns out permafrost preserves bodies and information was extracted from the lungs of the victims. Researchers returned in 1997 to dig again and isolate the virus from the victims. The name of the virus: H1N1. It's been said that perhaps the knowledge gained from the digs here can inform the researchers of the recent H1N1 outbreak. Pastor Brian was here during the 1997 dig and said, "I helped save the world!" One never can tell.

A few of us went to the school library to see some photos of the digs and learn more about the epidemic. Then we went to the cemetary to see the site of the mass grave.

There were other graves too. There were graves of two elders I had met, who died a month apart in early 2007. There was a grave of man who committed suicide this past April. His kids are attending Bible school. Then there was a grave of a 4-month-old, whose mother I had visited at Alaska Native Medical Center in Anchorage last fall. I didn't know the baby had died.

It's all here, life and death. Tonight in devotions, Susan asked us to consider our losses. Then she asked us to consider what we had found. Life and death, lost and found. It is our story, these narratives make up our lives.

Now it's almost midnight and the house is quiet. The clouds drift quickly to the east. The seas are still choppy. I'm hoping for stillness that will allow us safe passage to Teller and back to Nome on Friday. It is, as always, unpredictable to live in the village.

On the beaches of the Bering Sea

2009-07-14T23:35:00.002-08:00

I'm writing from Brevig Mission, a small Inupiat Eskimo village north of Nome. I come here, with members of my congregation, for a week each summer. We lead Vacation Bible School and generally hang out in the village. This is my fifth year doing the trip.

It's about 11:45 at night right now. The dogs are yelping outside and the sky to the south is all light pinks and blues. I hear an ATV cruising past and the blinds rattle when the wind blows through. I think everyone in this house is in bed or on the way. And the residents of Brevig are still moving about. Some will still be awake when I get up for my morning run. And there it is, a soft peal of laughter comes from outside.

Every year is different, and though I recognize the kids, they're getting older and taller. Some get more graceful, some a little more awkward, some get jobs and move away. I feel a little like I come home when I return to Brevig.

Bible school was quiet yesterday, day one. Some kids were gone fishing and others were helping with a reindeer corral up river. Today there were more kids and more chaos. We acted out the story of the Israelites and the Egyptians at the Red Sea. Then we helped the kids make instruments (shakers and tamborines and such) and did the skit again. The kids loved it both times; they were on the edge of their seats and then followed me (as Miriam) around the sanctuary with their instruments, praising God or maybe just yelling in a loud voice.

Yesterday I went visiting. I took a few oranges and bananas and one of our team members and visited an elder of the village. She welcomed us warmly and we chatted about this and that. As we chatted, her three greatgrandkids ran about, jumping and showing off. They were all under 4 years old. She's one of the primary caretakers. I wonder how old she is. People are younger than you think here. The lifestyle is wearing, it seems. What a fantastic woman.

The smell of salmon just hit me, full on. Pastor Brian, my collegue and friend here, just came into the kitchen to take a bunch of canned salmon out of the pressure cooker. He said he does about 60 jars a summer. Red salmon, with beautiful flesh. We ate one tonight, hours old. It is one of the best things about being here in summer. The day before yesterday, I saw Brian and an elder named Janie cutting fish and hanging it near the beach. She used only an ulu, sliding the tool through the belly with a steady hand and hanging the fillets over driftwood racks. It was so sunny that day and the fish swung gently in a light breeze.

So things are well here in Brevig. It's so peaceful just now that I'm reluctant to change the mood of this entry, but my heart is heavy for the folks back in Anchorage. A member of our congregation died this morning. I will miss Allan Tesche. He died a few days after major heart surgery. I'm aching for his wife and kids. I don't have many more words right now. Just that Allan was incredibly bright and cared about people. He was serving as church council president (no problem after serving on Anchorage assembly for years). He pushed our council to move forward with measurable goals that match our vision. He was a team player, a cheerleader and knew how to stir folks up to move an issue.

He loved his family and his work. I'll miss him.

I just looked out the window again at that pretty twilight sky. Right before it is a field of white crosses. Every time you look out the window of the parsonage here, there's that little cemetary, a constant reminder of our fragile lives and the presence of pain and grief. And just beyond, there's that beautiful, God-given sky, and mountains as far as I can see.

God must be doing something

2009-06-18T12:37:00.002-08:00

I preached on Mark 4:26-34 on Sunday June 14 (Second Sunday after Pentecost). This gospel reading is two short "kingdom of God" parables of Jesus to his disciples (that's us too!)

I'm still thinking about them...and about how/if/when the kingdom (working) of God is moving in our world. Here's my sermon.

PS- If you don't want to read the whole sermon, skip to paragraph 5, which starts with "there's a story." It basically captures the essence of my thinking on God's kingdom these days :)

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I’ve been thinking about these parables from Mark all week. This is the question I’ve been pondering: What is God up to in our world? Put another way: Where is God working? Or, on a more basic (honest) level: Is God doing anything in this world where people fight, kids don’t get enough food or love at home and those darn prices of gas keep going up? What is God up to in our world?

Sometimes I ponder these things late at night, when the sky is dark, or not, and I wonder what’s in God’s heart as God looks upon our brokenness? Sometimes it seems like nothing is happening. Even more, if people of faith struggle with these questions, how do we proclaim a God of power and might to a world that, I’m convinced, is truly desperate for something in which to believe?

I wonder if Jesus can speak to our questions when he speaks of the kingdom of God. These kingdom parables are all over the place in the gospels and two of them are in our text from Mark today. If you’ve hung around Lutheran churches long enough, you might have heard that we understand the kingdom of God not just as a heavenly home by and by, but a reality that breaks into our world now and then. The kingdom of God is more about relationship that a geographic location. We get little glimpses of God’s kingdom from time to time. We sense the presence of God, we receive the love of Christ through another or we discern the Spirit working. Yes, the kingdom of God is here now, but of course not fully here yet.

So if the kingdom of God is breaking into our world, God must be working. But why is it so hard to tell?

There’s a story (this one borrowed from Pastor Karen) of a group of friends who found a bunch of wild mushrooms, prepared a feast with them and spent and evening eating their fill. They also fed some to the dog. Late in the evening of good food and wine, they noticed the dog looking sick. The animal looked sicker and sicker and the friends began to panic. They rushed to the hospital and had their stomachs pumped. When the ordeal was over, they came home to find the dog was doing well and had delivered a litter of puppies.

Why is it so hard to tell what God is up to? Why is it so hard to tell when God is working?

Jesus uses the parable of the growing seed to speak of the kingdom. It’s a simple story, really, and many of us have done just the same. We scatter seed (or maybe more carefully plant in furrows) and sleep and rise to find that it has sprouted and grown. And we do not know how. Oh yes, we understand there are complex biological processes at work, combined with soil conditions, water, sun and fertilizer, but really, do we really know how it works? Isn’t there some part that still is a wonder, that’s still a mystery? I don’t know about you but I marvel every time something green sprouts from earth. I wonder at every new birth. I stand in awe when some life situation that looked dead suddenly comes alive once more. Maybe this parable reminds us that God is God and we are not. When it comes to the working of God in this world, we really cannot know, plan, predict or dictate. The mystery will always be there, ahead of us and beyond.

Yet. Yet perhaps you want more of an answer to where God is working. Me too.

So then, we turn to the mustard seed parable, a more well-known parable. Jesus says the kingdom of God is like this: a mustard seed, the smallest of all seeds, grows to be the greatest of all shrubs and birds make nests in its large branches. Jesus is no horticulturist, we might argue, for the mustard seed is not the smallest and its branches don’t really grow large enough to support feathered friends. So why a mustard seed? Maybe because in 1st century Palestine, the hearty mustard seed grew everywhere, a common, ordinary weed. Think of it as the dandelion of the Middle East. The kingdom of God is like a dandelion? Maybe we’re onto something now: the kingdom of God might very well be as plain but ubiquitous as a dandelion. Everywhere, persistently growing no matter how much Roundup we squirt. Perhaps we sometimes look for God’s kingdom in the wrong places. Are we looking up for trees with large branches for nesting, or shall we look lower, in places more ordinary and plain?

Whether we see the kingdom of God working or not, the good news is that God has promised to move in this world and God is working. God is moving and working in all kinds of ways that are just not obvious to us right now. In our text from Ezekiel today, God says these four words: “I will accomplish it.” God, not us. God is working. God is moving. God keeps God’s promises, even when things appear to be in shambles. As a friend of mine once said: when everything is an absolute mess in your life, you can be sure that the Holy Spirit is working.

So, thank God, our job isn’t to usher in God’s kingdom or try to coerce its growth. God works and grows and moves very well in spite of our willingness to play director. We might ask ourselves: are we wiling to wait for God to do what God certainly will do? We might also ask ourselves: what keeps us from growing? What keeps our congregation from growing? Are we hindering the growth God has planned for us?

One more story. Two men are shipwrecked on a desert island. They wait several months; no one comes to the rescue. Finally, the first man pours his energy into fashioning a house. He works for days to engineer wood and weeds into a remarkable shelter and the two enjoy their new home. One night, the second man starts a fire that gets out of hand. The entire shelter goes up in flames. The first man is furious and yells all sorts of unkind insults to the second man. About an hour later, a boat pulls onto shore. “Hi there!” shouts the boat captain. “We saw your fire signal. We’re answering your call for help.” Amen.

Vines and branches

2009-05-11T11:10:00.002-08:00

"I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no 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." John 15:1-2,4

This lesson from this Sunday's lectionary must have been in the back of my mind while cooking dinner later that night.

Earlier in the week, I'd bought some tomatoes on the vine from Fred Meyer. Saturday, I found luscious, organic basil at the farmer's market. Add a some fresh mozzerella, ground pepper, olive oil and salt and the result is truly divine.

I noticed, as I prepared to chop tomatoes, that one had fallen off the vine. I chose that one first, then gently eased another off the vine. I put my fingers to my nose. I inhaled. I know of few sweeter smells than fresh tomato vine. It is the smell of my Iowa childhood and the promise of flavor.

I must digress here to say that I find it difficult to buy and eat tomatoes here in this frozen state (corn too!) The red orbs are just not the same as those heated by the hot Iowa summers. So I settle for those on the vine from Freddie's most of the year and then wait anxiously for local heirlooms later.

Anyway, I cut into the tomato that had fallen off the vine. It yielded to my knife and I diced it into the waiting bowl. I slipped a small sliver into my mouth. It was okay, nothing spectacular, a tomato-in-waiting. It would have to do.

I cut into the second tomato, the one that I had to pull from it's vine. It too became a diced pile in my bowl. I tasted one of the segments. Of course it wasn't garden fresh, but it was good. Very good. Full of flavor. It was (or at least close enough) to what at tomato should be.

Then I thought of that passage from John again. "Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me."

What was Jesus talking about? Some might say that those who aren't connected to the vine deserve nothing more than a toss into the fire (see John 15:6). That's one way to read the passage.

But perhaps it's not so much that those fallen-off-the-vine tomatoes (er, people) are worthless. I did still use that tomato. But it just wasn't what it could be. It wasn't its full tomato-y self. It wasn't all I knew the tomato could be. Sure, you can eat a tomato long since disconnected from the vine. It's just not the way a tomato was intended to be used.

Perhaps that's true of us. Lots of people live long lives and experience happiness apart from the vine of Christ. But it's just not the way we were intended to be. There's a certain sweetness missing, a certain fullness and ripeness.

The salad tasted good, by the way. As summer unfolds, I have faith it will get even better.

Spirit, spirit...

2009-04-29T13:35:00.002-08:00

As the warmer winds of spring swirl through the Anchorage Bowl, I've been thinking about the Holy Spirit.

Most Lutheran churches don't say much about the Holy Spirit, or raise a suspicious eyebrow at those who would mention her movement.

Early Christians had fewer reservations. A walk through the book of Acts shows time after time how the Spirit shows up and invites early Christians into places they could not have imagined. The Spirit breaks the rules, blows down dividing walls and welcomes those deemed unwelcome-able.

Then sometime during the Enlightenment (this info courtesy of Pat Keifert, Luther Seminary) intellectuals became suspicious of the Spirit. She wasn't rational, couldn't be proven or tamed into submission. We're still in this post-Enlightenment attitude. We distrust this Spirit that we cannot understand.

Yet the Spirit keeps moving, breathing life into us, when we let her. What if we opened ourselves to the movement of the Holy Spirit? What if the Spirit has already given us all the gifts we need?

This summer at Central, we move to one worship service, 9:30 am. It's a good time -- the church is (usually) full and we move into a more relaxed worship setting. Before we worship, we'll host a Bible study of the book of Acts, starting at 8:15 am. Will you join us? I look forward to learning how the Spirit will lead you...and all of us at Central.

Easter Message

2009-04-21T12:56:00.002-08:00

Easter's a season, you know. We hear about post-resurrection appearances in our lectionary readings and consider how we might, like the earliest Christians, go and tell the good news.

I'm still pondering some of the themes I talked about in my Easter sermon. So I'm posting it here, if you're interested.

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Easter Sermon, Rev. Lisa A. Smith, April 12, 2009, Central Lutheran Church

Easter Joke: Ole died. So Lena went to the local paper to put a notice in the obituaries. The gentleman at the counter, after offering his condolences, asked Lena what she would like to say about Ole. Lena replied, “You just put ‘Ole died.’” The gentleman, perplexed, said, “That’s it? Just ‘Ole died.’” Surely, there must be something more you’d like to say about Ole. If it’s money you’re concerned about, the first five words are free. We must say something more.” Lena pondered for a few minutes and finally said, “O.K. You put, ‘Ole died. Boat for sale.’”
I had two choices for sermon texts this morning. I could have preached the Easter story from John’s gospel or the one we just heard from Mark. John’s version is the one where Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb, mistakes Jesus for a gardener, Jesus says her name, she rejoices and goes and tells everyone. And they lived happily ever after.

We like happy endings: like the happy ending of the final episode of “Friends” over the controversial-left-you-hanging end of “The Sopranos.” I know people who only go to movies with happy endings.

I considered that but then I thought about you. I saw your faces as I stared at the blank computer screen. Some of you are living some happy endings but most of you are struggling and waiting and see how it all turns out. Some of you are trying to get over some very unhappy endings. I thought about you and I thought about Mark’s gospel story that leaves us hanging: They went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

Of what the women were most afraid? After all, they were standing in a cemetery (a good start) and the body of their friend had gone missing. If you showed up at Anchorage Memorial Gardens in the same situation, you’d be afraid too. Perhaps they were afraid because they just met a talking angel. Or maybe they were afraid because they had just been given a job to do (go and tell) and that seemed like more work than they were up to on a Sunday morning. After all, Sunday is a good day to sleep in, maybe do the crossword or get coffee.

Whatever those women feared, it had something to do with resurrection. It certainly wasn’t part of their plan. Even though Jesus in Mark’s gospel makes three clear passion predictions (I will suffer, die and be raised in three days) none of Jesus disciples really get it. They didn’t count on Jesus death so they didn’t count on a resurrection. Now the women make the best of what they think is all that’s left: they go to anoint the body.

The problem with Easter, aside from too many Peeps, is that it asks us to believe the fantastical: God brought his crucified Son back to life. The resurrection happened. It’s hard to believe something that we can’t prove. When we hear about resurrection, we too might react by being afraid. Or skeptical. Or indifferent.

One of my running buddies pulled me aside recently religion chat. He said he wasn’t sure if he believed in the divinity of Jesus anymore. He listed the broken places in his life: divorce, children in crisis and financial concerns. I didn’t say much, just listened. Later I kept thinking, gosh, if Jesus isn’t divine, if there wasn’t a resurrection, none of us have any hope. The question we can ask ourselves is this: what is God’s deepest desire for us -- despair or hope? And then how shall we live?

Online recently, I came across a blog by a woman living in Los Angeles. She blogged about getting a tattoo of a phoenix on her right arm (www.drybonesdance.typepad.com) The phoenix, as any good Harry Potter fan knows, is an ancient, mythical symbol of resurrection. After a time, the bird is said to burst and burn into flames, nest included. A new bird soon rises from the ashes.

The woman gets the tattoo because she says it symbolizes a re-birth in her own life and gives her hope for the future. She also notes she’s almost 40, a professional, listens to NPR and must be out of her mind.

When she gets home from the tattoo parlor, only then does she notice the date on the calendar: Ash Wednesday. She writes: “I don’t know if Jesus died on the cross for me or for anybody or if he just died. I don’t know if I am saved but I do know that I believe in death and resurrection. I believe that sometimes you have to live as if something is true before you are entirely sure about it.”

We have all been there. We have all, like the women in Mark’s story, stood in the cemetery, afraid and not entirely sure about it.

Yet we have heard the good news, the words spoken to the women at the tomb by the young man dressed in white: He has gone ahead of you, to Galilee, there you will find him, just as he told you. This is the good news: the resurrection means that Jesus is on the loose and has gone ahead of us. Galilee was the hometown of many of Jesus’ disciples and probably the place they fled after Jesus’ death. So the angel is saying, “Go home, Jesus is there!” And he’s waiting for you. And you will see him, just as he promised. If the angel wanted to be snarky, he would add: just as he promised in Mark 14:28, which you clearly haven’t read.

The good news is this: Jesus goes ahead of us. Not just to our homes in Anchorage or wherever, but Jesus goes ahead of us into the future. We need not fear the future in life or in death. Jesus goes ahead of us. He is waiting there for us. We will see him, just as he promised. This is what the resurrection means: he is with us, ahead of us, always.

One more thing about the woman with the phoenix tattoo. When she and her friend were looking at designs, the friend came upon the winner and said: “That’s cool. The phoenix is coming from the flames and it is the flames.” And in the picture I could see it was true. You could barely tell where the bird ends and the flames begin.

The woman also about how much it hurt to get the tattoo. Which I would say is the same thing about resurrection. You don’t get it without the crucifixion. The blogger writes: “Transformation doesn’t mean that the pain all goes away. Bad things happened. Bad things still do. Some things that are lost are never found again, and I will always have a few broken bits in my psyche. I have holes and scars, but those can be a part of me, and even made beautiful, until you can’t really tell the flames from the feathers.”

May we live in the hope of the resurrected Christ – loose in the world, ahead of us now, with us always. Amen.

Good Friday- Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem

2009-04-10T17:15:00.002-08:00

Lutherans of Anchorage hold a joint noon Good Friday service each year. This year, we did 8 stations of the cross. I did the reflection Jesus meeting the women of Jerusalem; it's copied below. Safe travels from Good Friday's night to Easter's morn.

“A great number of the people followed Jesus, and among them were women who were beating their breasts and wailing for him. But Jesus turned to them and said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children.” Luke 23:27-28

We don’t know much about these women, these daughters of Jerusalem. We don’t know if they were the standard, professional Jewish mourners at death or if they are genuinely grieving for Jesus.

Does it matter? Have you ever noticed those who weep at funerals and memorials? Often they barely knew the person who just died. They weep for other losses, for loved ones gone long ago, for broken hearts or in anticipatory grief of someone still living. They weep, they wail and they beat their breasts, just like these daughters of Jerusalem.

Jesus tells them not to weep for him but to weep for themselves. Jesus knew there were other reasons to weep. Historically, the city and temple of Jerusalem would fall in the year 70 AD. Jesus also could have reminded them of their situation in life. He could have added: “Weep for yourselves because the guys who wrote the Bible won’t bother with your names. Weep because you live in a world where your gender makes you less of a person. Weep for your children’s children, because two thousand years later, too many still die from war, disease, hunger, and neglect. Weep because there are still executions and sometimes we don’t know the guilty from the innocent.

New York Times foreign correspondent Dexter Filkins spent years covering Afghanistan and Iraq. He recently wrote a book entitled The Forever War. Here is an excerpt:
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The men with guns led the blindfolded man from the truck and walked him to midfield and sat him down in the dirt. His head and body were wrapped in a dull gray blanket, all of a piece. Seated there in the dirt at midfield at the Kabul Sports Stadium, he didn't look much like a man at all, more like a sack of flour. In that outfit, it was difficult even to tell which way he was facing. His name was Atiqullah, one of the Taliban said.

Atiqullah had been convicted of killing another man in an irrigation dispute, the Talibs said. An argument over water. He'd beaten his victim to death with an ax, or so they said. He was eighteen.

By this time a group had gathered behind me. It was the family of the murderer and the family of the victim. The families were close enough to touch. Sharia law allows for the possibility of mercy: Atiqullah's execution could be halted if the family of the victim so willed it.

"Please spare my son," Atiqullah's father, Abdul Modin, said. He was weeping. "Please spare my son."

"I am not ready to do that," the victim's father, Ahmad Noor, said, not weeping. "I am not ready to forgive him. He killed my son. He cut his throat. I do not forgive him."

The families were wearing olive clothes that looked like old blankets and their faces were lined and dry. The women were weeping. Everyone looked the same. I forgot who was who.

"Even if you gave me all the gold in the world," Noor said, "I would not accept it."

Then he turned to a young man next to him. “My son will do it,” he said.

One of the green hoods handed a Kalashnikov to the murder victim's brother. The crowd fell silent.

"In revenge there is life," the loudspeaker said.

The brother fired. Atiqullah lingered motionless for a second then collapsed in a heap under the gray blanket. I felt what I believed was a vibration from the stands. The brother stood over Atiqullah, aimed his AK-47 and fired again. The body lay still under the blanket.
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There are daughters of Jerusalem crying at every moment, somewhere in this world. They weep because we still keep thinking we can crucify the wrong sorts of people and that will be the end of it. They weep for the world that is and the world that should be and the long road between those places.

We weep for these reasons too.

Luke says the weeping, wailing women were following Jesus. Perhaps they still are.

Redemption

2009-04-07T15:49:00.002-08:00

We find ourselves at the crossroads of Lent and Easter, the meeting place of suffering and rejoicing, the joining of death and life.

It's Holy Week.

It's also break up time in Alaska, the stores overflow with Easter candy and our economy keeps heading south.

In the midst of this, I heard the word "redemption" in a public radio broadcast today. I keep thinking about it. So here's the context. Perhaps in the story, there's a connection with our lives.

Private First Class David Sharrett, of Virginia's 101st Airborne Division, died in northern Iraq during a fire fight. His father, David Sharrett, senior, later discovered the whole truth: his son was accidentally shot and killed by a lieutenant from his own division. Even worse: after the gunfire, the lieutenant hopped on a chopper and left Sharrett behind. Since Sharrett wasn't wearing a locator beacon (the division leader didn't give the men time to put them on), he wasn't found until more than an hour later.

The army wasn't forthcoming on this portion of the story. Sharrett, a high school English teacher, had help from reporter and former student James Meek, who writes for the New York Daily News.

The story is compelling on its own. We remember how seconds matter, how the unexpected happens and how the fog of war turns the world upside down. We know that sometimes power doesn't speak the truth. We know people make mistakes.

What does Sharrett have to say about the lieutenant's behavior, now that some time has passed?

"I have compassion for him, I have compassion for his family," said David Sharrett, senior. "I want somewhere in the midst of all of this, for there to be redemption out of this."

What is redemption in this case? Perhaps it's that the elder Sharrett and reporter Meek found out the whole story. And now they can tell it. Sharrett said the reason for the research and publicity is to give his son a voice. Perhaps now he can rest in peace.

Where does this narrative meet our Holy Week world?

We know the resurrection redeems the horror of Jesus' crucifixion. It doesn't diminish the pain of Jesus' death but it makes something to rise from the ashes of tragedy.

It's a story, it's a narrative.

We are people of story, people of narrative. We need to keep telling our stories. Of course the Easter story, but perhaps our own stories of redemption too. There are other tales that need our voices. There are other powerful examples of ways God has redeemed a broken situation or person.

Perhaps this is our Holy Week invitation: tell the story of redemption.

God says yes!

2009-03-26T20:41:00.002-08:00

This is the third and final posting about the trip to Taize. Any more would stard to feel narcissistic...and blogs are too much like this to begin with!

I digress.

The theme for Bible study during our week was "God says yes." In French: "Dieu dit oui."

Our daily study was led by Brother Benoit, who was, of course, French and had lived at Taize for only a few years. He was young, funny, charming and passionate about the gospel. I liked him instantly, of course.

Brother Benoit quipped that we were going to read the whole Bible in one week. Well, a brief overview, anyway. He began in Genesis on Day 1 and ended Day 6 in Revelation with some pretty heavy editing in between. The theme of "God says yes" wove throughout the week.

It was so life affirming! God says yes to who we are and who we will become. Brother Benoit started with the two creation accounts and shared insights from the Hebrew language. He moved fluidly through the exodus story and into Elijah and God's still small voice. He challenged us to look beyond what God is calling us to do; rather, who is God calling us to be? How is God speaking and what do we hear?

On Day 4, Brother Benoit moved to the New Testament (Jesus arrives on Thursday, he said) and we studied Jesus healing the sick and Jesus washing feet. In Jesus, God says yes to our humanity; the savior is a servant.

The last day featured passages from Revelation. I seem to remember this day best-- because it was the best or because it was the last? Either way, two images stand out.

One: Rev. 3:20 when Jesus stands at the door and knocks. Brother Benoit asked us to notice that Jesus knocks. He will not kick down the door. Brother Benoit illustrated this by climbing up on a bench and doing a mock karate kick. Then he raised his eyebrows and said in a French accent: "Jesus is not a bad guy."

The second: Based on Revelation 21 where God comes to dwell with us, Brother Benoit discussed how God guides us. He said God is like a GPS, which, if you make a wrong turn will not tell you "You are a bad boy!" Rather, the GPS will reconfigure the way and keep giving you directions to get to your destination. Everytime to you take a wrong turn, it will keep giving you options to get you there by the shortest way possible. The GPS will never force you.

I'll close with a portion of "Letter from Kenya" written by Father Alois, the abbot of Taize, from his recent trip to Africa. The letter was also used as a discussion springboard during Bible study small groups.

Father Alois writes: "Yes, God is present in every person, whether they are believers or not. From its very first page, the Bible describes in a beautiful and poetic way the gift that God makes of his breath of life to every human being. So let us consent to what we are or what we are not; let us even take responsibility for all we have not chosen but which makes us who we are. Let us dare to be creative even with what is not perfect. And we will find freedom. Even when overburdened, we will receive our life as a gift and each day as God's today.

Amen!

The worship and the stillness

2009-03-24T15:49:00.002-08:00

This is the second posting of brief reflections on our trip to Taize. For those of you who have been there you know there's something about the worship that pulls people, engages them and quiets them.

Maybe it's the sound of dozens of brothers chanting in unity or the sight of their uniform white robes. Maybe it's the 10 minute period of silence where you can connect to God, yourself, or the God of your own understanding. Or maybe it's the repetition -- three times a day, whether you feel like it or not. And that last statment is from one of the brothers!

Taize draws thousands of people each year; summers draw thousands each week. The majority are young people. Let me say quite plainly: they're not coming for the food.

Why do they come?

Yes, it's a place for seekers but it's also a place where the Gospel is proclaimed. No, not in a sermon, but in Bible studies with a brother and small group conversation to follow. There's also gospel in the proclamation that everyone is welcome, everyone is accepted. No denominational card checks. No dogma screens. You are welcome and God loves you. That's what I heard. Again and maybe for the first time.

There is something about silence. My group members said it felt too long at week's beginning at too short at it's end. I tend to agree.

I used the space at first for my own agendas, thoughts, plans and fears. Then, slowly and with no particular intention on my part, I felt something soften. I loosened my grip.

And the prayers came naturally...for the brothers, for the volunteers, for the group I'd brought from Alaska, for members of my congregation...

It was a profound spiritual experience, to sense the Spirit move through me and stirring me to look upon others with love.

It is interesting to me that silence can be so powerful.

Taize, first impressions

2009-03-23T15:59:00.002-08:00

I've just returned from the week in Taize. It was not quite and yet everything I expected and desired. It was, in sum, a deeply spiritual experience.

I didn't blog on the trip, mostly because I was in my own world of reflection. But I'd like to share a few things with anyone out there in blog-land.

It's challenging to describe a powerful experience or trip with words, especially when you just return. Perhaps the effects come slowly, they evolve as we do.

My first impression of Taize was that I'd walked into a French Bible camp. Lodging, grounds, food, bathrooms, everything was simple and in some cases primative. Some pathways were paved but most were dirt and gravel. We sat on the floor in worship. We sat on simple benches with no backs at meals. We ate small portions of simple foods. No bathrooms had any hand towels or hand-dryers.

These things might enhance the spirituality of the place, or they might hinder the experience. I think for me it was mostly the former.

My initial reaction to the schedule was that it was busier than I'd expected. Worship was three times a day for at least 30-40 minutes. Meal times took a while because there was always a line. Everyone was expected to do chores, usually at least once a day. Then there was large group Bible study and small group reflection. There were also special workshops and presentations. Oh, and tea-and-cookie time. So the time passed swiftly. We found that if additional reflection and quiet time was needed it had to be taken intentionally.

There's more I want to say. I want to say how the worship impacted my life. I want to speak of the Bible studies. I want to say what this might have to do with you, all or any of you reading this missive.

I'll say those things later. Until then, I'll just remind myself and you that we're in the season of Lent. It's a time for an inward focus, a look deeper and beyond, a time for centering. I did that in Taize but it happens everywhere.

What does it take for you to

pause?

On the way to Taize

2009-03-04T12:35:00.002-09:00

In about 12 hours I'll board an airplane bound for France with a small group of Lutheran young women. We're travelling to Taize, an ecumenical retreat community in the southern portion of France. As I told my congregation, it's farmland, not beach.

Taize was founded in 1940 after World War II by Brother Roger, a Swiss man who wanted to provide a place of safety for refugees traveling home after the war. Eventually, Taize grew to attract more than 100 brothers of varying deonominations. Thousands of pilgrims come to Taize each year; a large portion are young adults. Taize worship is chant-based, simple and includes a period of silence. There is no preaching and everyone else welcome. More info at www.taize.fr/en

I've long desired to spend a week in Taize. Days include three worship services, a Bible study with one of the brothers and a time of service in the community. We'll stay there March 8-15 with guests from all over the world.

There are seven traveling from Anchorage. Please keep us in your prayers. As time and access permits, I will update this blog. Now, off into the Lenten journey...

Regression Nation

2009-02-17T16:00:00.002-09:00

There might be a deeper problem embedded in our nation's financial crisis, said Dr. Michael Kerr, Director of the Bowen Center for the Study of the Family, at a conference at Pacific Lutheran University, Feb. 12-13. The problem? Chronic anxiety that has led to regressive behavior.

I heard Dr. Kerr speak last week at the conference celebrating the 40th anniversary of Consulatation to Clergy in Region 1, a resource for ELCA and Missouri Synod clergy and congregations. Kerr is an expert in Bowen family systems theory that looks at how an individual functions within a system. It's very a helpful system for learning more about self and how we function in families and congregations. I've been through a Bowen family system theory workshop; I do not exaggerate when I say it has totally re-shaped how I relate to my family and congregation.

Anyway, Bowen theory has several concepts. One of them is regression: "If chronic anxiety escalates in a relationship system, the system becomes dominated by less thoughtful and more reactive ways of interacting that are older in an evolutionary sense than the advanced complex behaviors of a well-functioning relationship system."

In other words, when we get anxious, our brains shift into neutral and we react more emotionally, less rationally. Ever seen this in someone? How about yourself?

Regression isn't just for indivuduals, it happens to larger groups, like a whole nation. Kerr suggests the US is in a period of regression. He points to manifestations of emotoinally-driven regression: violence, we-they factions, polarizations, litigation, teen pregnancies, focus on rights, fundamentalism, quick-fix legislation, and terrorism. While statistics for these may vary on the month or year, these concerns have been part of our national reality for some time.

What causes a regression? Some suggest a period of abundance. Consider this example from the Galapagos Islands. During an El Nino deluge of rain one year, the islands produced an abundance of caterpillars which were eaten in abundance by ground finches. The finches behavior changed at this good fortune. Researchers said "the birds went crazy" and there was a "copulating frenzy." Females produced more eggs than they could care for, "teen" females were getting pregnant, males staked out poor territories but got females anyway, some females abandoned their eggs, and other manner of odd behavior.

Apparently, the birds couldn't handle the abunance. They failed to self-regulate.

Our country has been in a period of abundance. How did we handle it? Did we indeed fail to self-regulate?

Fear not, I'll not leave this post on such a downer. What's the cure for chronic anxiety? Well, perhaps it's not a cure but there is a way to mediate anxiety. Physician, know thyself! Seriously, it's time for a little introspection. Get quiet. Get thoughtful. Bowen theory suggests the way to deal with anxiety is to connect to the self, the deeper self and operate from that place.

Living the Questions

2009-02-02T15:05:00.003-09:00

(The following comments are from my sermon at Central, preached Sunday, 2/01/09)

When I was thinking about going to seminary, I asked a pastor who was also a mentor if he learned the answers to complex theological questions. "No," he replied, "I just learned to ask better questions."

Sunday's gospel (2/01/09) from Mark 1 finds Jesus in a synagogue teaching with authority, not like the scribes, Mark is careful to point out. The lecture is interrupted by a man possesed with an unclean spirit. Jesus casts out the demon and everyone is amazed. They start asking, and kept asking, questions. "What is this? A new teaching? With authority!"

There are a lot of questions floating around out there. I saw a Thrivent (Financial for Lutherans) representative last week and he said he's getting questions like, "Why didn't we see this [economic downturn/recession] coming?" As if he knows the answer! The recession leads to tough questions: How much longer must I postpone retirement? How do I deal with the anger of losing %40 of my investments? What do I do when I can't pay the heating bill/mortgage/credit card?

We've been asking tough questions at Central lately. Can we afford four full-time staf? Can we afford a full-time youth director? (We've decided yes, at least for now, but these questions were asked during the budgeting cycle.)

Other questions rise up: Why is our attendance dropping? How can we attract more young people and families? Why do people sometimes feel disconnected from each other at Central? Why is it so hard to find volunteers? Why is everyone so busy?

Back to our gospel. The man with the unclean spirit clearly had a problem but didn't ask Jesus for help. Maybe he was so possesed that he couldn't find the words. Yet he dared bring his unclean self into the holiest place in Capernaum on the holiest day of the week. He made no request. He just placed himself in front of the Son of God. And Jesus healed him, restoring the man not just to health but back into community.

When we question God, each other, ourselves or our mission as disciples, I wonder if we can be so brave: place ourselves in front of Christ. Could we do so even without agenda or expectation? Could we come before God in quiet hope, in open desire to follow?

Perhaps this is the way, as the poet Rilke says, to "live the questions." Rilke continues: "Try to love the questions themselve, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not look now for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself expereincing the answer, some distant day."

Amen.

Lament on a day of joy

2009-01-20T20:59:00.002-09:00

Jan. 20, 2009: The inaguration of Barack Obama as the 44th president of the United States, Washington, D.C.

Jan. 19-21, 2009: ELCA Preaching conference on lament, Cannon Beach, Oregon.

Good thing I'm Lutheran and can hold two opposites in tension. While for some, this day may be a day of sadness (McCain supporters, Republicans, etc) for me this was a day of joy, hope and pride in our nation. I'm gathered in this Oregon beach town with 100 or so Lutheran pastors to discuss how to preach in times of lament and sadness (a theme picked a year ago for this conference). I'm glad the speakers at least acknowledged the irony, as many of us are very happy to see this day come.

We watched the inaguration and Obama's speech together on a big screen in our conference room. I've never seen Lutheran pastors sit still for so long. People nodded and said "Amen" as Obama spoke. I wept. We clapped and stood when it was over. We clapped some more for the poet and the preacher who followed Obama.

Then, instead of delving back into Jeremiah and the Psalms of sadness, we talked about how joy and sorow, lament and praise often go together. Our Psalms do suggest this: most lament psalms have at least a few verses of praise, usually at the end. We know it's true in our own lives. Sometimes we curse and thank God in the same breath. We find ways to be joyful even on dark days.

So we passed a microphone around and talked about where we saw joy and lament collide this day.

One person noted that Obama listed our nation's lament. He acknowledged the pain in our nation: people losing jobs, fighting two wars, those who have lost their homes. Someone else pointed out that the opening and closing prayers had aspects of repentence and confession, which are lament-like but lead to new life and new hope.

Another pastor acknowledged that while many people in our congregations feel like an 8-year lament is over, others strongly feel a period of sadness is beginning. How do we stay at the table and honor their words of lament over a change of power in the administration? Someone else also mentioned the grief and lament that George Bush must be feeling.

One thought I'm left with: my generation (X) and the one after it (Y) have little experience with corporate lament or corporate joy. We felt this first at 9/11 when we mourned together. I think many of us feel the shared joy now at this promise of new hope in our country's leadership. Perhaps the best part is that we feel it together. May this national pride lead to unity of purpose and maybe, just maybe, a small step away from our tendancy toward so-called "rugged individualism."

One-line wisdom

2009-01-12T13:28:00.003-09:00

Seen on a shelf at a parishioner's home: (paraphrase)

There is one holy call in life: not to make life harder for other people than it already is.

Christmas in Botswana

2009-01-05T11:50:00.003-09:00

Sami Oeser, a member of Central, has been serving in the Peace Corps in Botswana for nearly 2 years. She's working at an orphanage with kids whose lives have been changed by HIV/AIDS (either from infection themselves or orphaned when parents died of AIDS). Here are some excerpts from Sami's Christmas card this year. Enjoy!

Sami writes:

I have learned some valuable lessons from living in Africa, though I'm not sure how applicable they will be in Alaska.

* Always shake out your shoes before putting them on. (You don't even want to know what might be hiding inside!)
* Don't sit under a palm tree (Falling palm nuts are big and heavy!)
* Don't park a car under any tree (goats will climb up on the hood and roof to reach foliage, leaving behind hoof indentations)
* Don't drink any fluids within 10 hours of a journey by bus (The buses have no facilities and don't stop!)
* If it looks like it tastes nasty, it probably does.

I am not alone:

In case any of you think I may be lonely living by myself in Maun, Botswana- fear not. Besides a steady stream of neighbors (especially children, last Friday during a rainstorm, I had 28 kids drawing pictures in my 300 sq. ft. house) I currently reside with 5 cats, several dozen spiders, a score of lizards, myriad cockroaches, beetles, flies, mosquitos, moths, crickets, mopani words and thousands of ants who materialize out of thin art if any scrap of food is left out, and then disappear just as quickly after consuming it. Fortunately, because I live far from the river, and there is little vegetation in my yard, I do not have a snake problem.

Christmas in Maun:
Christmas here goes by almost unnoticed. There are no Christmas trees, no lights and no decorations, save for one lone "Merry Christmas/Happy New Year" sign in teh window of a shop owned by a Hindu couple - go figure). There is no Christmas music and no sales pitches to buy presents. Chrsitmas cards and wrapping paper are very difficult to find. Ribbon is non-existent. But then, most people in my village can't afford to exchange gifts anyway. And instead of snow covered trees, I will be looking out on sun-baked sand.

But just like last year, I will put up the 10-inch Christmas tree that I made from green construction paper, and the African creche I assembled from wood carvings. I will play christmas music (thank goodness I remembered to bring some CDs from home), drink Christmas tea, eat some chocolate (life is good) and thank God for the wonderful support and love I have received this past year from my family and friends.

I hope to see each of you next summer.
Blessings,
Sami

---

If you want to check out the orphanage where Sami works: www.banabaletsatsi.com
Or write to Sami:
Sami Oeser
c/o BBL
Private Bag 114, Suite 55
Maun, Botswana

The Shack

2008-12-30T09:20:00.002-09:00

Apparently, everyone is reading it. "The Shack," by Wm. Paul Young. I'd barely heard of it. I saw it at Costco. I bought it because I was sure it was the next month's book club book. It wasn't. I read it anyway.

The premise (from the book jacket): a young girl, Missy, is abducted on a family camping trip; evidence found in a remote shack suggests she's been murdered. Years later, her father, Mack, receives a note, apparently from God, inviting him back to the shack for a weekend.

If you haven't read it, don't let me spoil it for you. Perhaps you'd best stop reading.

Okay?

I'm pretty suspicious of these pop-culture religious books. I mean, who is this author anyway? Has he read Pannenberg and Tillich? Where's his credentials?

There've been a number of these types of pseudo-religous culture books: Da Vinci Code, The Secret, anything by Joel Osteen, even Oprah qualifies. So I was wary. Got out my Lutheran microscope.

The story is compelling. It's hard to resist being drawn into the character portraits of Mack, wife Nan and their 5 children. The writing is a bit forced with descriptive adjectives but the story line makes up for it.

Mack goes to the shack and finds God. All three of them. (SPOILER ALERT!) God is personified as a large African-American woman who likes to cook, the Spirit is Sarayu, an Asian woman who floats about and emits bright and colorful lights, and Jesus is, well, a Middle Eastern carpenter with a big nose. What did you expect?

I like God in this portrayal. All three of them. I love God as an African American woman who gives big hugs and cooks tasty greens. God also tells Mack she's especially fond of him...and everyone else. I love a God who cooks buttery scones!

During his time with God at the shack, Mack works thorugh his anger and moves toward forgiveness and healing. It's a beautiful journey, with an intriguing portrayal of Sophia, Lady Wisdom. I appreciated the work Mack does around forgiving Missy's killer. We all know (at least in our heads) that holding onto anger only turns our own hearts black.

Mack also learns the nature of God. It's all about dropping personal agendas and trusting in God. Here's a quote of which I am especially fond. Jesus, the Jewish carpenter, is talking to Mack: (p. 181-2)

---------

"Remember, the peple who know me are the ones who are free to live and love without any agenda."

"Is that what it means to be a Christian?" It sounded kind of stupid as Mack said it, but it was how he was trying to sum up everything in his mind.

"Who said anything about being a Christian? I'm not a Christian."

The idea struck Mack as odd and unexpected and he couldn't keep himself from grinning. "No, I suppose you aren't."

They arrived at the door of the workshop. Again, Jesus stopped. "Those who love me come from every system that exists. They were Buddhists or Mormons, Baptists or Muslims, Democrats, Republicans and many who don't vote or are not part of any Sunday morning or religious institutions. I have followers who were murderers and many who were self-righteous. Some are bankers and bookies, Americans and Iraqis, Jews and Palestinians. I have no desire to make them Christian, but I do want to join them in their transformation into sons and daughters of my Papa, into my brothers and sisters, into my Beloved."

"Does that mean," asked Mack, "that all roads will lead to you?"

"Not at all," smiled Jesus as he reached for the door handle of the shop. "Most raods don't lead anywhere. What it does mean is that I will travel any road to find you."

-----

Not bad, theology. Not bad at all.

O What fun with O Antiphons

2008-12-22T11:01:00.002-09:00

I discovered the early church tradition of the O Antiphons this season.

Yes, I know my Catholic and Episcopal sisters and brothers have long known this lovely pre-Christmas tradition. But it's all new to me!

The joy of discovery is a good, good thing.

My spiritual director suggested I pray with the O Antiphons this season. In case you're a newbie to this like me, the seven antiphons are traditionally recited during vespers Dec. 17-23. This is a special time of Advent preparation.

The O Antiphons serve at least two purposes. Each one highlights a title for Messiah:

O Sapientia (wisdom)
O Adonai (Lord)
O Radix Jesse (root of Jesse)
O Clavis David (Key of David)
O Oriens (rising sun)
O Rex Gentium (king of nations)
O Emmanuel

Also, each one refers to Isaiah's prophecy of the coming of the Messiah.

I've been praying with each of these during my nightly prayer/meditation time. I like it. I like thinking of the diversity of names for the coming Lord. I like focusing on different aspects of the divine. I like singing one more verse each night of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," where most of these names for Messiah are found.

So, in case you didn't know, now you do.

May Christ come to you in just the way you need this season.

Can I get a Witness?

2008-12-09T15:29:00.002-09:00

After my previous post (rant) I'm now ready to tackle the lectionary readings for this coming Sunday, the Third Sunday of Advent, Year B.

I was somewhat unimpressed to discover that the Gospel (this time from John) is the John the Baptist text again (it was found in Mark last week). More preparing! More crying out! More straight paths! Pastor Glenn's sermon last week was entitled "For Crying out Loud!" I'm tempted to title mine this week "For Crying out Loud Part Duex."

Well, if we must return to J the B, perhaps there's something new in John's text. Perhaps it's about witnessing.

John's Gospel tells us there was a man named John, sent from God. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all would believe. He wasn't the light, he just testified to it. (John 1:6-8 paraphrase).

We're reminded the Bibical witnesses of Christmas were always witnessing to something other than themselves. They witnessed to the amazing things God was doing in the incarnation, the coming of Christ as a human. (Thanks, Bishop Mike, for this reminder!)

So when we witness (which we are called to do) we are not to witness so that we receive the glory or that our lights shine. We merely hold the flashlight up to what God's is already doing. Maybe we can help someone to see in the dark.

This morning on NPR's "Fresh Air," Terry Gross interviewed Frank Schaeffer, son of Francis and Edith, authors who helped link evangelicals to the anti-abortion movement. Schaeffer himself promoted the religious-policial agenda but has now renounced those teaches and has joined the Greek Orthodox church.

Schaeffer commented on growing up evangelical, where he was encouraged to witness to his faith and try to turn people to Christ at every opportunity. He said he would wait patiently while people talked about their families, friends, passions and work, and then jump into the more important conversations about whether the person knew Jesus or had been saved.

His point was that was always witnessing, always trying to turn every conversation into a talk about God.

Did he miss God's genuine movement? Did he find God in the other stories people told about their daily lives? Perhaps. Perhaps that's why he doesn't live this way any more.

So what does it mean to witness?

Perhaps a witness points to something beyond herself.

Perhaps a witness points out God's simple and powerful movements in all aspects of life.

Perhaps we really must stay awake this advent season.

Bypassing Happiness

2008-12-03T21:23:00.002-09:00

Why do we bypass happiness and choose crankiness, worry and fear?

Perhaps it's just because I'm a pastor and thus a repository for people's complaints, both trivial and life-changing. Maybe it's the economic downturn or my congregation's veeeery tight budget for FY 2009 but I seem to be hearing lots of complaining and unhappiness lately.

I attended a yoga workshop a few weeks ago where the presenter began not with headstands or hamstring stretches but this question: If at our deepest center is this level of peace, quiet and calm (Sanskrit: Ananda, or bliss) then why do we spend so much time in these outer layers of the physical world, mental chatter, stories we tell ourselves and our reativity to others. Good question.

Here's my addendum/Christian spin: If at our core we hold the light of Christ and the Holy Spirit dwells within us, why do we live with such unhappiness, negativity, complaining and just plain whining? Why do we do it ourselves? (I am, of course, asking the question of myself, too.)

So why don't we choose peace, gratitude and contentedness? Do we even know we have a choice? Do we see that we are not the sum of the stories we tell ourselves? We are not our feelings. We are not our reactions. We are created as God's image and bear the Holy Spirit within. Why not live out of that?

Well, Pastor Lisa, (some say) because the world is a rotten place. I've lost $100,000in my retirement account and my husband ran off with a younger woman. Or, I've lost all control of my children's actions and I feel left out and lonely. Or, I hate the hymns at Central and no one sets up for coffee hour and why don't we have a fellowship committee and where are the children in worship?

Yes, I hear you. I am truly sorry for your losses. But complaint on these smaller items without action or follow through? Listen up folks, when you notice that somebody should be doing it, that somebody is probably you. Listen up folks. God is calling. I'm just the receptionist.

I went to see a parishioner today at Providence Hospital; she requested prayer before her triple bypass.

I entered the room in all seriousness of my pastoral office. How are you, I said with great worry.

"I am so blessed," she responded, smiling.

Her story: chest pains were misdiagnosed last week as high blood pressure. On a second trip to the ER yesterday, a smart doc realized she had major blockages in three arteries. If not caught, the doc said, the heart attack that was soon to come would likely have killed her. She expressed complete thankfulness to God and to her family for getting her this far. She was joyful, peaceful and ready to face the surgery and recovery.

She is the single happiest person from my congregation I have seen in weeks.

Why do we bypass happiness?

Where are our blockages?

What if we don't clean out those blockages?

Why do we bypass happiness?

Modern-day Deuteronomy

2008-11-29T16:34:00.003-09:00

I preached on Thanksgiving, if you could call it preaching.

I basically re-wrote a Deuteronomy text (8:7-18) for a modern context. The original is addressed to the people of Israel. God reminds them that he has rescued them from slavery in Egypt and provided for them through wilderness journeys and into Canann. Now that they live in relative comfort and prospertiy, it seems they've forgotten God.

Does that ever happen in our world?

Thanksgiving is for remembering what God has done and for giving thanks. My re-write is below. Thanks for reading it :)

For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land flowing with glacier-fed streams, with alpine lakes and hot springs near Fairbanks, a land of moose and caribou, of blueberries and cranberries, of salmon, halibut and lingcod, a land where you may eat without scarcity, where you will lack nothing, a land where gold is found and from whose plains you may drill oil. You shall eat and hunt and fish your fill (or at least 25 dip-netted salmon per person per season) and bless the Lord your God for the good land he has given you.

But take care that you do not forget the Lord your God by failing to keep his commandments, remembering those less fortunate or congratulating yourself for being so smart. When you have shot and quartered a moose this season and filled up shelves with Costco bargains, when you have built a 3,000-foot house on the Hillside and a deck with new patio furniture, and when your stocks soared and your PFD got bigger, and you even find the perfect parking spaces, don’t become full of yourself and your things that you forget God.

For this God through Christ delivered you from slavery to sin and self-centeredness so that all people could live in hope. This God led our nation through world wars and the Great Depression, present in suffering, near at times of death.

This God walked with Alaskans through the journey from territory to statehood, through the terrible earthquake of 1964, through pipeline prosperity and the 1980s crash. Through oil prices high and low, through winter storms, deaths of loved ones, rising costs of living and summer bear attacks, God has been very near. God has fed you with his Word and through the love of others. Even when times were tough, God intended good for you.

So do not say to yourself, “My power and college degree and sound investment strategies and hard work have gained me all that I have. I’m rich! It’s all mine!” Think again! Remember that the Lord our God gave you the strength and persistence to create this wealth and, as we’ve seen in the stock market, it will not last nor will it save you. If you forget God and start worshipping gods of your own design (including the gods of fear, hoarding, scarce-thinking and blaming), then consider this your warning, this will be the end of you. I mean to say that when you forget to thank God, you’re pulling away from your source of life and healing, your center, your well-spring, your foundation. You lose the you you’re meant to be. So remember and give thanks!

Back to blogging

2008-11-29T16:26:00.002-09:00

Dearest friends in Blogland-

If you're still out there, I'm back to blog some more. I somehow got bogged down with life. Since I last blogged, I've...

* Spent a whirlwind week in Iowa over Wartburg Homecoming (my alma mater) and saw bunches of family members. Also met my sister's boyfriend, watched the homecoming parade and generally just enjoyed being with my sister, who is a senior at W'burg.

* Lost my grandfather on Halloween. He was 90.

* Voted absentee (bummer, but at least my vote counted eventually)

* Went back to Iowa for another week for Grandpa's wake (election day) and funeral (nov. 5) Also should mention I watched election returns at a dive bar called Poor Dick's in New Hampton, Iowa, with my cousins. We drank pitchers of Miller Lite (the horror) and watched election returns on an impossibly small TV. Let me just say most of my cousins did not vote for the candidate I did. Oh well. Anyway, the next night they all wanted to eat dinner at the bowling alley (the food's real good, they said, but thankfully we went to a bar/grille instead. You guessed it. Miller Time.)

* Preached some sermons, visited some sick parishioners, tried to manage some anxiety about Central's budget without getting anxious myself (didn't work)

* Taught yoga, ran a lot, skied once.

So what's new with you?

Love,
Lisa

Why Pray?

2008-09-30T14:41:00.003-08:00

A curious woman in the adult education class Sunday asked me this. Why pray, she asked, when God's in charge and we're not? Why pray for healing for someone else if God already knows the plans he has made for us? Why intercede? Does it do any good?

Great questions. Love them. Keep it up. Since, you asked, a few thoughts.

First, what is prayer? It means different things. Here's a good excerpt from a book by Philip and Carol Zaleski who wrote Prayer: A History, "...a recovering alcoholic reciting the serenity prayer, a Catholic nun telling beads, a child crossing himself before a meal, a quaking Shaker, a meditating yogini, a Huichol Inidan chewing on a peyote button, a Zen monk in satori, a Lubavitcher dancing with the Torah, Saint Francis receiving the stigmata, a bookie crossing his fingers before the race, Scrooge pleading for just one more change, dear God, just more chance."

Cool line up, I think. At Bible camp as a young counselor, I was trained to say "prayer is just talking to God." And I still think that's part but not the whole. It's also listening.

Maybe prayer is more. Maybe it's getting quiet, getting in touch with yourself, taking stock, being honest. In the Christian Century, September 9, 2008, Marilyn Chandler McEntyre, speaks of the power of prayer. She says prayer that works is "prayer that yields clarity, or insight, or a course of action, or leaves you more accepting of uncertainty. It can work by opening your heart in spite of yourself, or by enabling you suddenly to imagine a point of view other than the one you've been clinging to."

Perhaps this where the listening comes in.

But there is still this matter of why pray if God knows all and isn't changing God's mind?

We pray, then, to stay in relationship with God. We pray to stay connected. We pray to humble ourselves and remember that we weren't really all so much in charge anyway. We pray to practice trust and letting go, the essential practice of living.

So does it work? Well, yes, it works on us, but does it work for others, for healing or for the world? A doctor in our morning adult ed class reported medical studies that suggest patients with people praying for them do better than those with no known pray-ers. So does it work?

Prayer is an act of hope, and hope is good for us, deep down in our souls and, apparently, our bones. Does God change God's mind? Why does God heal some people and not others? These are unknowables. I still believe in a merciful God, not one who goes about zapping people with disease and affliction. Bad things just happen. Perhaps when we pray, we place our trust in the one who walks with us, through good times and bad.

Last things

2008-09-22T12:48:00.002-08:00

How do you live when you're dying?

This is really everyone's story, but I guess most of us don't think of it unless the dying part is more imminent.

My book club read Randy Pausch's "The Last Lecture" as our September feature. I had to miss the discussion due to church conflicts, so I'll reflect here.

If you haven't heard of it, The Last Lecture is the story of Pausch, who died earlier this year of pancreatic cancer. He was 47 and a professor at Carnegie Mellon in human-computer interactions. He gave the lecture in Sep. 2007 (as his last). The book is based on the lecture and his story.

His lecture is entitled "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams" and you can find it on YouTube. He's fun and funny. His dreams may seem child-like (float in zero gravity, play for the NFL, be Captain Kirk on Star Trek) but over his life he finds he does accomplish many of them (well, he played high school footbak and met Captain Kirk instead of becoming him). The lecture and the book are about his legacy to his kids but his words are also ways to live.

The book was a bestseller on NY Times. His death was covered by ABC, Time, the NY Times, Washington Post, LA Times. What is it about this story that has captivated us?

In part, I think, it's his honesty. One of the first slides in his last lecture is a CT scan of his liver, with arrows pointing to the tumors. He says it's important to point out the "elephant the room." He's funny, too. He gets down on stage and does a bunch of push-ups to show that, for a dying man, he's in pretty good shape. He even wrote the book (with journalist Jeffrey Zaslow) during phone conversations while Pausch rode his bike.

But there must be something more compelling. Many writers are honest and funny and they don't top bestseller lists. And while Pausch's advice is great (be honest, tell people you love them, don't waste time on important things, don't let brick walls stop you) we could find these proverbial thoughts elsewhere.

I think Pausch is so fascinating because our society shuts out death and dying. It's the place we don't go, publically. Pausch brings the reality (and hope, joy and fun even at the end) into public discourse. He embraces the nearness of death and lives fully in spite of it. He doesn't deny it, cover it up or get embarrased about it. Pausch lets us know it's okay to talk about death and it's okay to live even when you're dying.

After all, we're all doing it. Pausch might remind us we might as well enjoy life, then, while we have it.

Check out his Web site for more info, stories, and book details:

http://www.thelastlecture.com

On Generosity and Equality

2008-09-16T11:39:00.002-08:00

Or, why we (secretly) rejoice at others' sufferings and begrude their successes. Come on, we all do it.

Jesus tells a Kingdom of Heaven parable in the gospel lesson for this coming Sunday (Sept. 21). He says the kingdom is like workers in a vineyard, some work a whole day, some only an hour, and all get the same daily wage. The landowner asks those who grumble, "Are you envious because I am generous?"

Well, yeah! It's not fair! Seems like when I work hard, I should be rewarded. That's what I learned on the farm, anyway. In this world, that's how it works. But God's kingdom is different.

God's kingdom isn't fair. Of course it isn't. If it was, I'd be in big trouble for every malicous thought, every white lie and every silent rage against those who frustrate me.

So the kingdom isn't fair. But it's equal. And it's good. God loves us equally. There's nothing I can do to make God love me more, nothing to make God love me less. God loves me (a long-suffering Lutheran pastor!) as much as the elderly prison inmate who comes to know Christ at life's end. Yeah, it's not fair. But God is good.

We do begrudge God's generosity, though we might better be grateful for it. It's hard sometimes to be rejoice for a friend's success or good news. It's easy sometimes to be secretly happy when the friend has a tough time. I remember when a long-term boyfriend ended our relationship during seminary (I thought we were getting married) and two weeks later my roommate/best friend got engaged. It was so difficult to be happy about anything, least of all for my friend. But somehow God surprised me and I could celebrate her engagement while I mended my broken heart.

Bottom line: God is recklessly, wildly generous. No matter if we're up or down, that abundant love is with us. No matter if our friends are up or down, that abundant love is with them. We have all we need; God fills us. This is God's kingdom: a place where things don't always make sense, but where God is still God. And good.

Politics, as usual

2008-09-10T13:23:00.002-08:00

Less than two months until the presidential election and I am counting the days.

Yes, I want change (and both Obama and McCain promise to bring it). Yes, I'm weary of the current administration. But mostly, I'm ready for it all to be over. I'm tired of the speeches, the half-truths, the promises. And it's only mid-September.

I sat at a table of Lutheran pastors and lay leaders at a meeting yesterday. As we ate lunch and made small-talk, I noted there were different political persuasions. One man was disatisfied with both presidential candidates but said he would now vote McCain because of Sarah Palin. Another man expressed shock at this (I happen to know he's an Obama fan, though he didn't disclose this publically). Most people kept their opinions to themselves and just discussed the phenomena, especially around Palin, who we Alaskans have known for years.

What didn't get mentioned in our small talk was the question I have in my heart (though I will confess I've made up my mind for Nov. 4). The question is this:

How does a person of Christian faith decide for whom to vote?

Now, if you attend other churches in town, the pastor might just tell you. Though I think that violates their 501 (C) (3) status! Maybe they just tell you indirectly. We don't do those kind of shenanigans here at Central.

So I pondered this and here's what I think so far. I'd be interested to know your ideas. Those of you in Blogland, remember I'm Lutheran, which focuses my theological lens.

How to pick a president (or any political leader)

* Pray. I think God encourages us to pray for our nation's leaders and potential leaders. As with everything, it's better not to ask Santa-God for a wish list. Rather, we pray for leaders' discernment and for decisions and actions that promote peace, justice and equity.

* Get informed. So Lutherans trust that God gave us these fantastic brains for a reason. So use them! Read up on candidates and issues, watch the debates. Check out articles or memoirs by candidates. Try to read and study from different sources or non-partisan opinions.

* Listen to others. This one's hard for me. But I believe we are called to listen the ideas and opinions of others, especially our friends and family, and especially if they have ideas that are different. In this way, we honor that Spirit that is in all of us and promote unity (not uniformity) in the body of Christ.

* Consider the widow, the orphan and the stranger. My seminary Old Testament professor said this phrase was like a drumbeat through the whole Bible. God is interested in what happens to the weak, poor and downtrodden. Liberation theologians speak of God's "preferential option" for the poor. Jesus blesses them. It's hard to wade through the promises but see if you can discern where a candidate stands on issues of poverty and hunger.

* Thank God! Be thankful that we live in a place where we can exercise freedom to vote, speak and assemble. Regularly thank God for what is good in our country, even while praying for things to improve.

* Get involved. If you prayerfully choose a candidate or cause worth supporting, do it! Consider ways to be part of the process or give financial support. Christians need not stand outside of the political process. God's mercy and love can work in strange and mysterious ways (even polical systems!) Be hopeful that your passion can create a more positive world.

Dancing with a Nun

2008-09-08T12:13:00.002-08:00

The wedding was private, the reception, a public contra dance.

I did a wedding on Saturday for a couple who've been attending Central with some regularity and plan to join. The wedding was small and private, in the small rose garden on Anchorage's Park Strip.

Then it was off to Alpenglow ski area for a wedding reception, contra dance and North Carolina-style BBQ (a nod to the bride's home state).

After a delicous meal (and even vegetarian beans and rice) the caller in a white shirt and black vest fired up the band and invited us onto the floor for a circle contra dance.

Though I was wearing my collar, I'd put on a swishy red shirt and comfy cute flats for dancing. I had a great time.

We lined up again for a line contra dance and I was without a partner. Since many pairs were both women, I didn't mind when a woman I didn't know volunteered to be my partner.

She said, "I'll dance with the nun."

I got very quiet.

"I'm not a nun," I said, more impassioned than I intended. "I just did the wedding ceremony on the park strip. I'm a Lutheran pastor."

"Oh. I thought you came dressed in costume as a nun."

Great. Now I'm a nun.

Earlier that night, an attractive man had asked me if I was a priest. Groan.

All in a day's work, apparently, when serving the Lord.

Maybe I'll be a nun for Halloween. Nah, too close to home.

Almost Famous (almost)

2008-09-02T11:53:00.002-08:00

It's been a big week for Alaskan women, apparently.

I had a phone call from a friend on Friday. It appears I was named Runner Up as "Best Preacher" in the Anchorage Press (weekly news/entertainment rag, for those outside of Anchorage). They did a "best of" everything survey recently(restaurants, DJs, live music, politicians, etc). See the results at:

http://www.anchoragepress.com/site/basicarticle.asp?ID=809

Scroll all the way to the bottom to see the preacher list. Jerry Prevo (Anchorage Baptist Temple) seems to have edged me out for the number one seat.

So, I've had a few emails, facebook hits, phone calls since then. Is this how Sarah Palin feels? At least no one's looking in to my shady past...

Anyway, thanks to my friends or whoever out there who thought to nominate me. Maybe someone was silly or maybe serious. Regardless, it's cute and I'm flattered.

I'm also thoughtful.

The side commentary in the Press noted that most readers left this one blank. Others wrote "anyone but Jerry Prevo" (again for those outside AK, Prevo is famed for a bit of fire and brimstone at his mega-temple). Others put "God" or "nature" and apparently someone put "f--k this category." Huh. How about that.

What I ponder about this experience is the loaded nature of that word, "preacher." Somehow this category is a turn off, an abomination or a mystery to the readers of the press. What? Can't a girl like good, dark beers and know a good preacher? Can't I hang out at Humpy's and still hear a sermon the next morning?

And what does it say about our religious/cultural life that we have to hate Jerry Prevo rather than knowing anything about any other preacher in town? Maybe we aren't visible, aren't "out there" enough as churches, pastors, Lutherans.

Maybe I should hold office hours at Kaladi's. Or Humpy's. Or Darwin's Theory. Maybe I'll see you there. Maybe I won't even preach.

To Have Without Holding

2008-08-28T14:39:00.002-08:00

This is my sermon title for the weekend (Aug. 31) and also the title of a great poem by Marge Piercy. She writes:

Learning to love differently is hard,
love with the hands wide open, love
with the doors banging on their hinges,
the cupboard unlocked, the wind
roaring and whimpering in the rooms...

I loved her poem title because it reminded me of all we cling so tightly to in our world of scary times. We cling to our hopes, market predictions, expectations of other people, our achievements and ideas of how the world should be.

What if, instead, of clinging, we loved differently, with hands wide open?

The Bible text for Sunday is all about Jesus telling the disciples not to cling to their lives, lest they lose them but rather give up their lives for Christ to find them.

I loved this online commentary by artist and writer Jan Richardson:

"Jesus compels us to find the particular path that will enable us to do the work of giving up all that separates us from God, from one another, and from our deepest selves. As Peter learned, this includes releasing our desire to dictate the actions of others in ways we are not meant to do, and letting go of our attachment to outcomes that lie beyond our control. “To have without holding,” poet Marge Piercy puts it. In one of the great paradoxes of the spiritual path, it’s this kind of denial—this kind of detachment—that makes way for our deepest connections.

So what are you attached to just now? How do you know when a treasured expectation, desire, or relationship has become a stumbling block? Who or what helps you recognize these blocks? What might you build from them? Can you imagine what lies beyond them?" (found online at: http://paintedprayerbook.com)

Amen, I say. And check out my sermon, inspired by Jan, this Sunday at Central Lutheran, 9:30 AM.

Taize trip!

2008-08-21T15:53:00.002-08:00

Want to go to France?

Here at Central, we've been worshipping in Taize style every 1st and 3rd Thursdays at 7 pm. This service takes a break for summer but will continue Sept. 18. (We also do Holden Evening Prayer on 2nd and 4th Thursdays, same time, this starts Sept. 11).

Anyway, Taize is a way of worship and also a place. Started during WWII era as a refuge for Jews and others, it is now a community where brothers of many faiths live, work and pray. The community also hosts lots and lots of young people, who come for a week to live, work, pray, sing and do Bible studies.

By the way, Taize is located in southeast France, nearest to Lyon on the west or Geneva, Switzerland, on the east.

Taize music is chant-based and repetitive. It becomes a prayer set to music. Worship includes prayer and a time for silence. Participants are encouraged to be open and listening for God during these times. I find the worship services we do here to be very powerful.

The "young adult" program at Taize is for folks aged 18-30 (though others are welcome to visit) and includes a somewhat-structured week, Sunday through Sunday. Young adults from all over the world gather for prayer three times a day, do a Bible study with one of the brothers (in a very diverse group) and help with community chores like cleaning or serving food.

Taize is meant as a place of reflection, worship, discernment and fellowship.

So, here we go. I plan to lead a group of Central young adults to Taize this March, probably March 15-22. The target age is 18-30; I'd like to keep the participants in this age group to respect Taize's structure. (Yes, I know I'm older, but that's okay because I'm the "chaperone," says the Web site :)

Want to join us? Know anyone else who's interested? I already have about 4 women interested and there may be others. Participants would buy their own plane tickets (though we'll do some fundraising to help folks out). The cost of staying at Taize is minimal (about $12 USD per day);Central may be able to help with that.

So ponder this opportunity.

And join us for Taize worship on Sept. 18!

Resurrection and the Real World

2008-08-20T11:52:00.002-08:00

A friend from seminary is writing her approval essay (the final paperwork to get approved to be a real pastor...oh and you also have to graduate from seminary).

She asked me yesterday for some feedback on one of the questions. The question asked the writer to reflect on Jesus' death and resurrection, using your own thoughts and also connecting it to the Lutheran tradition.

My pal was a bit concerned, she said, for while she (of course) appreciated the resurrection, she found she had more of an incarnational focus. (For you non-church-geeks out there, that means more of a focus on the miracle of Jesus' birth, rather than the whole "rose from the dead" gig).

Well, at this point, I promptly told her to join the Catholic church.

Just kidding.

See, as Lutherans, the deal is, we really are Jesus people. We love God and the Holy Spirit a whole bunch but we tend to focus more on Jesus and his resurrection.

Well, my friend said, this is all well and good, but when we focus on resurrection, we usually have to get into theories of atonement. (Another fancy church word, which means what Jesus did -- died--- to atone, or make up for our sins. Jesus washed away our sins or insert your own favorite image here).

My friend isn't a big fan of atonment theories.

And I can see her point. The classic atonement theory is the "Christus Victor" model, a la theologians like Aulen, who speak of Jesus as this cosmic warrior who fought sin and death and the power of the devil and conquored them on the cross. Thus, this sacrifice of love appeases God's pending judgment upon us. Instead of looking at us in anger when we mess up, God sees us through Jesus' sacrifice and we're all okay.

It does smack of militaristic, conquoring, fighting language, eh? Which I don't particularly care for either. Jesus didn't present himself as much of a warrior. Come on, he was a lover, not a fighter.

But my friend still wanted to know: what would I say about the resurrection? And I belive I'd say this (and I did, to her and now to you, gentle reader).

I do believe in the resurrection. (I think I've blogged about this before, sorry if it's a repeat). I don't know why it happened and I'm not sure if God exactly planned it out that way since the beginning of time. Maybe Jesus just came into the world and loved people and spoke the truth and so of course he got killed. But God knew he could renew and transform such a loss, such an end.

So that's the kind of resurrection I really believe in. I believe in the power of resurrection. I believe that when the worst happens, it's not the last word. God's love and power to transform and bring life out of nothingness is always the last word. I believe that when we are stuck in life, in despair, in turmoil or just plan soaked in apathy that resurrection can break through and God's love will transform even the worst of situations. I believe this will my whole being.

Resurrection gives us hope. Even when we face death, we have hope, because God is still with us. There is always hope. That's what resurrection means to me.

Remembering Bonny Sosa

2008-08-18T11:48:00.002-08:00

Bonny Sosa died on Thursday, Aug. 7 of a brain tumor that was just barely diagnosed. She was 50 years old and an active, healthy runner and yoga practitioner. I knew Bonny as a friend.

Her memorial service was Friday, Aug. 15, here at Central. There were about 400 people present, from diverse parts of the Anchorage world. People came from the Anchorage Convention and Visitors Bureau, because Bonny had worked there. People came from the mountian running community because Bonny helped establish a race series. People came from the yoga world because Bonny was a registered yoga teacher. People came from the school district, because Bonny and husband Sam Young had established and grown the Healthy Futures program for kids to stay active. People came from all over, because Bonny was raised here in Anchorage, where her parents and family still live.

I asked a pastor during seminary if memorial services get easier once you've done a few. Nope, she assured me, they get much harder.

There is very little I can say for sure in times of loss. I just say "I'm so sorry." I assure people of God's constant presence and love; God holds us in life and in death. It's not much, but I hope it's enough.

Death is a good time for storytelling, I will say that. It seems somehow comforting and healing to know these vivid stories of our loved ones live on after they have gone beyond the veil.

The stories were great at Bonny's memorial. She was kind, compassionate, warm, inviting, encouraging and positive. It was fun to get to know her better from stories shared.

The presenters of those stories were pretty diverse and maybe that was the best part. One yoga friend commented after the service: Where else in town can you attend a memorial where the pastor is a yoga teacher, the superintendent of schools (Carol Comeau) and an Olympian (Kikkan Randall)share remembrances and the congregation sings Amazing Grace accompanied only by a harmonica played by the owner of The Look? (That's a lingerie and more shop, for those outside of Anchorage :)

Bonny's life was very, very good.

Her husband said her office told something about her. The walls were plastered with inspirational quotes, like "If you're going to do something, do it with passion" and "Never walk when you can skip." Where were her many awards, he asked? She hid them under the bed.

Finally, this word I shared in my sermon: For God so loved the world, that he gave us Bonny.

It's not fair!

2008-08-13T14:32:00.002-08:00

The theme for camp this week is justice, or "Just for Life," as our sweet blue T-shirts say. It's good stuff: parables about God's amazing generosity and forgiveness. But's it's also a bit abstract, I think, for some of these third-graders. Ah well, at least if they know that God loves them no matter what, it's a good start.

Camp is going well, I think, now that we're three days in and into a routine. I work with the Koinonia (jr high) side of camp, so here's typical day:

Breakfast
All-camp morning worship (which I'm leading now, since Pr Martin left)
Bible study (also me)
Environmental game/teaching (Erik Johnson, sometimes me)
Lunch
Quiet time (with cabins)
Free time (Kids rotate between crafts, gym, waterfront, camp store)
Dinner
Staff Meeting
Small group time and journaling (which is torture for some boys)
Games
Campfire (let by older counselors, pastor gets to pontificate some)

So here are some cool things about camp: watching high school kids lead small group Bible conversations (way to go Drop in Center guys!), hearing kids sing Bible songs really LOUD, seeing how proud kids are when they pass their swimming test (burr, cold water!) and watching friendships form.

My favorite moment yesterday was when I was sitting at lunch by myself (the adult table was full) and two little boys and one counselor (Thanks Nick!!) came to sit with me. It was pretty precious.

Yesterday's curriculum was about the parable of the workers in the vineyard...how the wealthy landowner paid those who labored all day the same wage as those who came to work late in the day. It's not fair, was the theme. Which I thought was appropriate, because this is so common for kids to say...and adults too. Someone (an adult) commented that this is a very Western way of being...we worry about fairness. I wonder if that's true? Anyway, who knows how much these kids get out of these things, but I guess we just lay these things on their hearts and someday, when they break, maybe the Word will gently seep inside.

Bible camp on a shoestring

2008-08-12T11:57:00.003-08:00

I'm spending this week at Lutheran Bible Camp, located at Victory Bible Camp about 100 miles north of Anchorage. This is my first time at this camp, though I worked as a camp counselor in college at a Bible camp in Iowa (Go EWALU!)

About 35 junior high kids are here this week, along with about 50 elementary-aged kids (that's a rough estimate). Kids and staff are from a number of Anchorage churches, with the majority being from Central, Good Shepherd in Wasilla and St. Mark's.

So we're a little short-staffed this year. We have a lower number of adult volunteers than usual and are down several staff and pastors who have previously led camp. In fact, there are only two pastors here right now (Martin Eldred from Joy and me... and he's leaving today after lunch.) So, I feel blessed to be able to be here and use my pastorly gifts and generally share God's love, hang out, etc. It's good to be at camp.

The kids really love this experience, though some of the older ones have commented things seem less organized this year (because they are!) Still, for many kids, this is THE pivotal faith experience and encounter with God they will name. Camp matters and I can see it in how they engage in the activities. It's pretty cool to hear a group of young people singing so loud in praise to God.

I'm truly bummed we don't have more kids here from Central. We have one in the Alpine (elementary) program and three in the Koinonia (jr high) program. In addition, five of the counselors are young people from Central's drop in center. I gues this is saying something about the DIC: those kids stick around and participate...and where are the rest of our High Schoolers? There's no judgement in this remark, I just wonder why more Central kids and counselors aren't here.

I think I might make this mandatory for Confirmation kids next year. In terms of value of faith experience, they might get more out of this one week than two years of classes. Just a thought.

Anyway, the weather was beautiful yesterday (Day 1) and the kids enjoyed horseback rides and swimming in the afternoon. Yes, outdoor swimming in Alaska in August. These kids are tough. I'm not getting in that water :)

I'd love your prayers this week...for our stretched-too-thin camp staff and our kids, that they might feel God's love this week. Oh, speaking of staff, big shout out to Sue Tonkins and Karen Emmel from Central, who stepped up to spend the whole week here at camp, to be nurse and craft person, respectively. And we can't wait to get Holly Emmel here...she'll be here tomorrow, after finally getting out of Seattle due to Alaska volcano delays. Is not Alaska grand?

More from camp later...

A Terrible, Horrible, No-good, Very Bad Day

2008-08-03T11:35:00.003-08:00

With apologies to the author of that children's book, I had a rotten day on Saturday, July 26. Yes, I know this is not my personal diary; it's supposed to be a blog of potentially inspiring cultural and theological observations.

But maybe I can make a theological point at the end.

Anyway, my brother Jay was visiting for the past three weeks and just left last Wednesday (July 30). We did quite a bit of traveling (including a week-long mission trip) and site-seeing and I was still trying to work as much as possible, see my other friends and keep up my training for a fall marathon. I was exhausted toward July's end.

I went on a long training run in Kincaid, where it poured rain the entire time I was out there (1.5 hours). When I came back to the chalet, I discovered my car key had fallen out of my pocket. I called a friend who has my spare to come get me. While I waited for my friend, I decided to check out a portion of trail where I thought I might have lost the key. Running just a few minutes away from the chalet, I came upon a woman stopped by a black bear cub. We shooed it into the bushes on one side of the trail, then noticed a mama black bear on the other side of the trail. Oops. We shooed her away too and ran for the chalet.

Now I want to point out that I am weary of bears. This is the first one (two) I've seen this summer. My very favorite and regular place to run is the trails near Hilltop ski resort. But since there have been so many reported grizzly encounters, I have stopped running there. I'm trying to give the bears their space. Which is why seeing them at Kincaid was such a bummer. Come on! I'm trying to be bear sensitive! What's a runner to do?

Anyway, I came home, showered and prepared dinner. While chopping mint leaves for the tabbouli, I sliced my left middle finger quite thoroughly, spattered blood all over the kitchen and had a friend drive me to the Emergency Room. I couldn't feel the end of the finger at all, which concerned me. But the ER doc just super-glued me back together. He said I should get most of the feeling back in a few weeks; right now a week later its still quite numb.

So, am I just a whiner? Maybe. We all have bad days, many so much worse than my minor complaints. But it just reminded me that when summer gets busy with vistors, travel, outdoor pursuits that its easy to run so fast we miss the little things that really are the big things. Like the kindness of my friend who picked me up at Kincaid. The tangy taste of the tabbouli (minus the bloody mint leaves). The gentle sound of the rain that leaves Kincaid so freshly green.

I'm reminded to slow down. And be more careful with my kitchen knife.

Brevig Mission, Days 2-8

2008-07-20T13:57:00.002-08:00

Well, shoot. Just when I'd planned to blog everyday in Brevig Mission, the Internet at the church went down.

About three days later it still wasn't working. Then I found out there was one computer with free Internet at city hall. Which almost always had a line. And the one time I did use it, there was a swarm of children around me asking questions. And I was almost late for Bible school.

So I have no daily blog report to you from Brevig, I'm sad to say. But I do have some closing comments.

Every year is different: different group dynamics, different Bible stories and some different kids. Every year is the same: Brevig folks are eager to welcome us, I notice how the kids have grown, and we build relationships old and new.

This year, almost 80 kids registered for VBS. We had 50-60 most days, though some came and went. We did VBS from 2-4 pm (four days) and this year added Teen Night from 7-9 pm (three nights). This made us busy but increased the "quality time" spent with Brevig people.

The team of folks from Anchorage (and my brother) was just amazing. They made crafts, acted out Bible stories, sang songs, led games and just loved those kids in Brevig. Many hours of free time were spent entertaining the kids. We took turns in groups cooking, cleaning and leading devotions. And we learned to live together even though there were 11 people sharing two empty bedrooms (and some living room floor space).

My highlight this year was truly the teens. I was delighted that they actually came to the teen nights and asked for more time with us. It really wasn't so much about the programming we did. We merely created opportunities and structure for community and the teens used it to engage others and themselves.

One night, we invited two teenaged drummers (Travis and B-Boy) to drum and the girls to dance. (Some boys dance too). It's called "Eskimo Dancing," and the dances connect with traditional activities like building an igloo, ice-fishing, hunting walrus and welcoming friends. Each time I visit, I find a sacred space in the pounding of those drums and their hauntingly beautiful chants. There is poetry in the dancing, those graceful flowing motions that connect thier present reality to their past ancestors.

I met Travis (one of the drummers; he's 18) four years ago when I first came to Brevig. He was so much shorter and so eager. He would follow us around the village, ask a dozen questions, tease us and visit until the wee hours. Now, he's a man and a leader among his peers. I felt a swell of pride to see him dance, drum and chant with authority.

Everything slows down in the village. That's perhaps what I love best. We are there primarily to just be, just be with people and with each other. The mystery of God's spirit unites and sustains us. I don't get as worried or anxious in the village as I do at home. I wonder what this means.

For next year, I have a vision. Based on conversations with Pastor Brian, I'd like to involve Brevig residents (especially the teens) in the planning and leading of VBS. This could be done over email, in a spring visit to Brevig, or in a planning meeting once we arrive and before VBS starts. I'm excited to see this increased ownership and partnership grow.

Enough for now. Thanks for keeping the people of Brevig in your prayers.

Brevig Mission, Day 1

2008-07-13T10:41:00.002-08:00

Hello from Brevig Mission, Alaska, just under the Arctic Circle. This is the first of a series of blogs about the Central Lutheran Church (and friends) trip to lead Vacation Bible School for a week in this Inupiat native village.

This is the third year Central has taken the trip. It's my fourth year, as I went with Amazing Grace Lutheran in 2004.

Our team this year consists of 11 people: Joyce, Shannon, Marilyn (a guest from St. Andrews' in Eagle River), Lawrence, Donovan, Merri Lynn, Lisa N, Ted, Karen, and Jay (my brother who lives in the OC, California. He thinks this is really cold!)

Let me tell you how we got here. First, we flew Alaska Air to Nome, each checking group luggage (food, crafts, supplies) as well as personal luggage. We bring all our own food and stay in the church parsonage with Pastor Brian Crockett.

We arrived in Nome on two separate flights yesterday (Saturday, July 12). It was raining and blowing sideways. We saw the sights of Nome (storefronts and the museum). One of our members (Donovan) found out he was actually related to the host at the museum...small world!

We lunched at Airport Pizza, a great all-around dining establishment. Their feature is that they take orders from villages and will put a piping hot pizza on the next plane so villagers can dine on their fare. Yum!

We drove to Teller from Nome, a 60-mile drive along mostly gravel roads. Though the clouds settled low, we could still see lush green hills and clear, flowing streams. Merri Lynn points out that many of the rolling hills remind her of Iceland. Along the way, we saw a herd of reindeer and one lone musk-ox. We also saw fishermen catch salmon at a stream. We only stopped briefly at the creek at Wooley Lagoon, where on sunnier days, I've seen Pastor Matt (from Nome) drink right from its clear waters.

Landing in Teller, we thought we'd stay overnight there. But the parsonage was full of construction workers building the village's new clinic. So, we hopped in Pastor Brian's Lund aluminum boat with outboard motor and he took the first load of folks across to Brevig. He dropped off Joyce, Merri Lynn and Marilyn at a fish camp where he'd left his Honda (ATV) and Joyce drove it (fast!) back to Brevig town site. The rest of the boat (Lawrence, Donovan and Pr. Brian) boated all the way to the town site. There were also three Brevig villagers whom Brian dropped off at fish camp. The 7-year-old boy hopped out of the boat, grabbed a fishing pole and almost immediately caught a salmon.

Brian eventually came back for the last three (Shannon, Jay and me). We were wondering if he'd ever return! We had a chilly but pretty boat ride over to Brevig. This year, we all wore lifejackets. The folks in Brevig almost never do. However, I'd just done a funeral for a man who drowned on the Kenai because he didn't have a life jacket. So we wore the PFDs.

In Brevig, we were greeted by folks fishing on the beach and a musk ox hide hanging from the outside of the church. I got to drive the Honda to the beach and back to haul luggage. I had forgotten how to drive it (and Lawrence got to learn for the first time!) so the kids showed me how. Very humbling!

Inside the church, women were decorating for a wedding to be held today (Sunday) at 2 pm. We hope to be invited but won't insist :) We asked a little girl whose wedding it would be. She said, "My mom and dad!"

Our evening ended with a great chiil supper (thanks Joyce!) and evening devotions.

Four weddings and a funeral

2008-07-01T11:35:00.002-08:00

Actually it was just one wedding but it always feels like more.

I did a wedding and a funeral last week, both for people I'd never met. This is a strange thing.

I was on-call for Alaska Native Lutheran Church, with whom we share this building. Pastor Karen Sonray was on vacation, as was my senior pastor Glenn, so it fell to me.

It feels good, actually, to be with people in life passages. It's one of my favorite things and I've heard other pastors remark similarly.

It's also odd to be in peoples' intimate spaces when you've never met them before. Much of the time before the events starts with introductions and trying to figure out who goes with who. The sermons aren't as good because they don't come out of genuine relationship. The time mingling afterward is a little awkward; I'm glad for my collar which makes it obvious to everyone why this unknown person is still floating around drinking punch.

So what's the point of this blog entry? Mostly just to say that now that I've been at Central for almost three years, I forget the pleasure of the networking and relationships I enjoy here. I take it for granted that I know stories, family connections, dreams, fears and disappointments. I don't know these when I put on the collar for another congregation.

So to the folks from Central who read this: we know each other. We have walked through challenges and good times. Some of you have known each other for decades. Decades! I'm thankful for our sister and brotherhood in Christ...it's very, very good.

Flood 2008: The News From Iowa

2008-06-19T14:07:00.003-08:00

It's not been a quiet week in my home state. The floods that have drenched Iowa and other parts of the Midwest have been called 500 year floods, which means the chances of such a flood occurring is 1 in 500. Bad odds this year, folks.

Many of you have heard the news, so I'll give you first-person observations from my family who live near Nashua, Iowa, the northeast corner of the state.

My parents live on a farm on a dead-end road. A creek crosses that road and frequently during the spring, they are stranded on the farm for a day or two when the creek rises across the bridge.

This year, there have been many, many days where the creek was across the bridge. One day, a FedEx man came to deliver a package of vitamins to my mother. She met him at her side of the flooded creek. Mom said the length of flooded road was about two car lengths. She asked him to throw the package across the waters. He did and mom walked it home. Dad noted that while none of the vitamin plastic containers were cracked, the invoice was a little damp.

The Cedar River in Waverly flooded far out of its banks, overflowing onto city blocks in that town where my alma mater Wartburg is located. Friends tell me many of my professors have water damage in basements. My sister Lorna's friend Bill just graduated and bought a house near the Cedar River. She helped him move his possessions to the first floor, but it was no use. The water flooded everything.

So Bill and his younger brother Bob are temporarily living at my parents farm with my sister. Mom says she doesn't mind the extra cooking and Dad likes the help on the farm. None of their fields were affected by the flooding. My sister reports Bill is waiting to see what kind of emergency help he might get from FEMA.

My sister works at Subway in Waverly, which only had minor water damage because employees (my sis included) sandbagged for hours. The Burger King wasn't so lucky. The photos of city blocks and blocks underwater are shocking.

Thanks for listening...and for your prayers for those who were more affected than my parents.

Be a Sitka Lutheran volunteer

2008-06-09T11:23:00.002-08:00

Sitka is an historical site for many reasons. The city was the first capital of Alaska, a site of Russian and Alaska Native conflict, and the site of the "handover" when Alaska was transfered from Russia to the United States. The city (and the National Parks service) has preserved much of this history in buildings and museums. And the tourists love it.

So since Sitka is a tourist destination, the Lutherans play along too. Sitka Lutheran was established in 1839/40 by the Russian-American Company for their Lutheran workers. Imagine: a government/commercial enterprise building a church and hiring a pastor for their employees!

The Russian-American company hired (in those days) a pastor from Finland. So the Sitka Lutheran church has strong Finnish ties. It also has an antique Kessler organ that is still used at services today. Visitors to Sitka Lutheran can view historic displays, read the history of the church, play the organ AND use the bathrooms, all for free.

So who hosts these tourists? The summer volunteers. Those interested can volunteer for several weeks during the summer. They must buy their own plane ticket to Sitka, but housing is free in an apartment during the stay.

Sound interesting? You might check out the church Web site for more information:

http://www.sitkalutheranchurch.org/

Sounds like Sitka

2008-06-09T10:55:00.002-08:00

Sitka, June 6-8, 2008: Guest preaching at Sitka Lutheran Church, Sitka, Alaska.

(Where's Sitka? Soggy Southeast Alaska...check out the google map below)

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=sitka,+ak&ie=UTF8&ll=58.631217,-135.351562&spn=20.581038,54.140625&z=4

Church stuff: One Lutheran church, two services, one sermon, zero albs worn, 10 people at the first service.

Fun stuff: One kayak trip in killer waves, 5 cruise ships docked in Sitka Sound, 3 mile hike around Beaver Lake, one handsome cello player at the summer music fest, 3 (at least) fantastic coffee shops.

I went to Sitka on an offhand remark. Pastor Jim Drury (who serves there) and I were joking that I should come down and be the guest preacher for him.

Suddenly, I was on an airplane. I guess he wasn't kidding.

Then a young woman at church (Lindsey) asked if she could buy her own ticket and tag along. Why not? So we set out for Sitka.

Sitka holds about 9,000 people, living on the Baranov Island, which is otherwise almost all forested. The island boasts a bunch of brown bears in its temperate rainforest climate. Sitka is (of course) only accessible by boat or plane. It's surrounded by mountains with stripes of snow, hills of evergreen forests and dotted with rainforest foliage like ferns. It's lovely.

The first day (June 6), we arrived and had lunch at the airport's restaurant, the Nugget. Not bad for airport food. Also, the Nugget has famous pies, to die for. And I don't even like pie. We stayed in the apartment next to Pastor Jim's house. The apartment is used in the summers for the volunteers at the church (more on this later).

Lindsey and I hiked around Beaver Lake that afternoon and had dinner at the sushi place in town. That evening, we attened opening night of the Sitka Summer Music Festival. Who knew? World-class chamber musicians flock to Sitka for weeks in June to play a variety of small ensembles and solos. They tour places like Moscow, San Francisco, New York and.... Sitka. We heard three amazing pieces by Beethoven, Lizst and Dvorak. The cello, esp. in the Dvorak, melted my heart.

Saturday (June 7) we attended the Parish Life Committee meeting. We heard about various summer activities at the church and community. I presented (and we had great discussion) about young adults and how to be more welcoming as a church to them and just evangelism in general. There were also issues disuccsed around Pastor Jim's upcoming departure (he's taking a call in August in Utah...unbeknownst to me when we first planned this pulpit exchange).

Later that day, Lindsey and I took a 2-hour kayak in the sound in the roughest waters I've seen from the kayak seat and did some shopping. That night, parishioners from Sitka Lutheran had us over for dinner. Our hosts were 41-year Sitka residents and wowed us with stories of life on the island and working for the cruise ships that dock here all summer. Tourist pour from these ships like so many droplets from a waterfall and flood the town's little shops and galleries. It's a great boon to the economy, but leaves people economically struggling in the winter. A couple years ago, the towns pulp mill closed. Last year, the private college Sheldon Jackson folded. Townsfolk wonder what this means for their futures.

Sunday saw two services at Sitka Lutheran, one at 8:30 am with very few people and one at 11 am with the "regulars" and several folks from the cruise ships. I had brought my stole and when I asked Pr. Jim if I could borrow and extra alb, he laughed at me. But I wore my collar shirt, as did he.

Preaching a sermon to a congregation you don't know is like writing a love letter to a stranger. (I told the congregation this). Still, I pressed on. It was interesting to gaze at their faces and see (though somewhat buried) the shock and grief of Pastor Jim's leaving. They've only known a few weeks.

In my sermon I talked about interruptions...as the place God uses to get inside of us and transform us and heal us for the next thing. May it be so for the people of Sitka.

Enough! Next post, I'll tell you about the volunteer program at Sitka Lutheran.

Is the Church Dead? A Meditation on Lime Jello

2008-06-02T13:45:00.002-08:00

So let's be honest: attendance at Central Lutheran Church ain't what it used to be. Neither is financial giving. Somehow, in transitions, we've lost a few folks and a few dollars.

Is it time to panic?

Some think so. It seems every couple weeks someone pops into my office with a high level of anxiety regarding this slow but steady downward trend. I hear the anxiety. I appreciate the worry.

But I don't think God intends for us to live like that. If you want to know what Jesus though about worry, see Matthew chapter 6.

Anyway, I'm not going to lecture about trusting God or listening for the invitation of God's spirit into our uncertain future. Insert your own sermonic points here.

I want to tell you about having folks from Central over for Lime Jello. With crushed pineapple.

At Central we've been doing this little campaign called Central Community Desserts. We grouped folks in area codes and asked one or two people to host a fellowship event. During the gathering, there would be facilitated conversation about Central: what connects people to Central, our mission/ministry, and what else we could be doing.

14 people gathered in my small living room, ages ranging from 14-60 plus. I say that because it's possible someone there was in their 70s but I don't want to hazard a guess. Two of the boys from our Drop In Center attended. Some sitting around the circle were life-long members of Central. Others were pretty new, members for less than a year.

I served Lime Jello. And cheese and crakers, chocolate cake and a luscious fruit salad. (Shout out to Mary and Les Krieger for helping with food and punch). And we talked.

People said what they liked about Central.

"I always feel welcome," one said. Another remembered her first reaction: "I am home." And yet another: "Central has become our family."

We brainstormed about how to better witness to our faith (like, could we practice sharing our faith stories with each other?) and discussed more opportunties for fellowship (more potlucks, was the enthusiastic consensus).

We also read quotes from recipients of Central's benevolences (Lutheran Social Services, Dillingham Lutheran Church, Sandra Rudd (an intern pastor at St. Mark). Amazed at the scope of where and what we give, someone said, "Why don't we blow our own horn a little more?"

All of this over Jello salad.

My main point is this: our life together in Jesus Christ is NEVER defined by numbers or dollars. Our life in Christ is ONLY defined by what Christ has already done for us and how we live out that love in community. And I saw that community in my living room, where we were so cramped that some sat on the floor with their lime Jello.

And I saw it as folks left, too. They were hugging each other. They were wishing one of the Drop in Center students good luck on his upcoming school trip to Russia. They were asking if he'd give a photo presentation for all of us when he returned.

There was nothing to fear. There was only hope.

Worship and Doubt: A Sermon for Confirmation

2008-05-21T08:53:00.001-08:00

Here's my sermon from May 18, 2008, Confirmation Sunday at Central Lutheran Church. I post because 1.) Only those at 9:45 service heard it. 2.) I apparently was talking so fast that most of 9:45 service didn't REALLY hear it. 3) I though it was pretty good.

It's based on Matthew 28: 16-20, the great commission

Thanks for reading! And now, the sermon....

It’s a typical Sunday afternoon Confirmation class at Central Lutheran Church. Gathered around a table in the upper fellowship hall, some students worship and some doubt. Some listen to the pastor, asking thoughtful questions, writing answers on worksheets, looking up passages in the Bible, really thinking about how faith matters in their life. But some are not listening. Some are doodling, some are coloring their arms with markers. Some are reading the sports scores in the Daily News when they think I’m not looking. Some think this whole God thing is baloney. Some wonder how this really helps when you’re getting picked on in math class or ignored by popular kids. Some worship, some doubt.

It’s a typical Sunday morning at Central. Some worship, some doubt. Some are singing the hymns, greeting their neighbors, listening to the message, noticing God’s presence, praying in thanksgiving and in supplication. Some sit like statues in the back row. Some of them are hurting, grieving, angry or resentful. Some of them wonder why they even came. Some think God has forgotten them. Some of them wonder where God was when a loved one died or when they heard the doctor’s diagnosis. Some worship, some doubt.

It was not a typical day when Jesus appeared to the disciples on a mountain in Galilee. Jesus had died and the disciples were left alone and hopeless. Then they heard the word from Mary Magdalene and the other Mary. Jesus was alive! And he wanted to meet the disciples in Galilee. So they went. When they saw Jesus, some worshipped him, some doubted. Even though they had gone to the trouble to show up, still, some worshipped and some doubted.

You’re finished with Confirmation. Done, done, done. No more class on Sunday evenings, no more sermon notes (except Donovan, you still owe me one). And it’s easy to see Confirmation as the ending. Show’s over, lights off, nothing to see here. Jesus’ disciples may have though the same thing when Jesus died and rose from the dead. Great, everything is finished. Except that Jesus’ goodbye message put them to work. He gave the Great Commission.

Sigh. Just when you thought you were finished. It wasn’t enough to learn the Lord’s Prayer and Apostle’s Creed? Jesus’ words: go and make disciples off all nations, baptizing…and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. It’s a tough assignment and one that seems more and more difficult in our world. Basically, Jesus is saying to GO, get outside your comfort zone, don’t just live for yourself. Form an alternate community with values that are different than the Roman empire (which valued success, power through violence, money). Rather, practice compassion, healing mercy, and inclusive community and life-giving words.

So basically, I’m encouraging you to live for others with Christ-like values at the very time in your life when teens put all their focus on themselves.

Some worship and some doubt.

Sounds like there was a mixed crew up on that mountain with Jesus, those worshippers and doubters. Yet they all got the same commission. Jesus didn’t say, you who are the faithful church attenders and ushers, go spread the good news. No, he instructed everyone to GO. Even those who doubt still got a commission.

Looking deeper into the Greek, one notices the word for “some” (as in some doubted) isn’t there. And the word “but” could also be translated as “and/on the other hand.” So another translation could be, “They worshipped him and on the other hand they doubted.” Those worshippers and doubters were the same people. Part of them worshipped and part doubted.

Which reminds us of one of our basic teachings about Lutheranism in Confirmation Class. Help me out here, Donovan and Emma. We are at the same time good and bad, we are ____ and ____ . Whew. I didn’t warn them there’d be a public quiz.

So even when we doubt, God still commissions us. We are still to go out and love others and tell about God’s love, even if we don’t really understand the Trinity or can’t remember the words to the Nicene Creed. This reminds me of when Martin Luther worried that he wasn’t holy enough to preside at the communion table. His mentor asked him, “Do you think this depends on you?” God has commanded us to GO and proclaim God’s love in word and deed. Do you think it really depends on how good YOU are? If God has commanded this, God will give you the strength to do it.

Consider this: Jesus trusts his entire earthly ministry to worshiping and doubting ones such as the disciples…and such as us!

And God gives presence. Matthew’s Gospel begins and ends with Emmanuel, God with us. In Matthew 1:23, the angel tells Joseph to call the child Emmanuel. In Matthew 28:20, Jesus tells the disciples (and all of us) he is with us always, to the end of the age. And this is for all of us, God’s presence, all the time, whether we worship or whether we doubt. God will be with us always, even to the end of the age.

So Jesus says GO and I say GO. When the disciples went out, they began their teaching and healing right there in Galilee. Only then did they spread farther into the world. So maybe your invitation is to GO and make disciples right where you are. Show Christ’s love in your corner of the world, in your family, home and school. Go and make a differenc. And may God go with you.

God: A geographical search

2008-05-12T10:26:00.002-08:00

At the 20-somethings women's Bible study last week, a couple gals were pondering this question, "Where exactly do we see God in our lives?" Oh, we batted around the usual answers like: in the mountains, during prayer, at church, in acts of kindness.

One woman suggested the following: God is most prominent in laughter and tears. She went further: maybe that is God. It's another way to think about God, a more Eastern way to ponder God as that which connects us, makes us truly human.

This same young woman teaches grades 5-6 in Sunday school at Central. When discussing the First Commandment, she reported, one of the kids protested. The kid said, "Do I really have to love God above everything? But I want to love my parents first." (I paraphrase her report of his comment).

The teacher noted she was a bit stumped. What are we to say? "I'm sorry child, you have to love this thing you can't see even more than your mommy and daddy." It does sound odd.

But maybe, suggested this teacher, maybe we need to explain to children that when we laugh and cry and love with our families and friends, that is God. And these are the places we are to put our love and attention. These meaningful human interactions become something of God to us. After all, isn't God love?

She wondered if she could truly explain this to a child. What do you think?

Who can be healed?

2008-05-06T09:42:00.002-08:00

Further reflections from the Alaska synod assembly (April 25-26 here in Anchor-town)

New Testament scholar Barbara Rossing was here to talk on climate change and the book of Revelation. She reminded us that God's intention is to heal/save the world, not to destroy it in a wave of terror. Just so we're on the same page.

On April 26, Rossing led a Bible study about the rich man in Mark's gospel who asks how he can get eternal life. Rossing examined this story with language of illness and healing, rather than sin and repenting. She takes this from the Greek "sozo," which can be translated as "saved" can also be translated as "healed." So after rich man leaves Jesus the disciples ask "Who can be saved?" (healed?)

Rossing reminded us of the problems of affluenza, a term coined to mean the suffering of too darn much stuff and not enough meaningful relationships. She posited the young rich man in Mark 10:17 might have the same problem. He knew he was sick and asked Dr. Jesus for a prescription.

Jesus says to go and sell all you have and give the money to the poor. The rich man leaves in saddness (the text says 'grieving'). He can't fill Dr. Jesus' prescription.

Rossing noted that in Bill McKibben's commentary on Job (McKibben's work is great; read it) it is our desire for More that makes us ill. So, who can be healed?

Put another way, what/who can heal us? And how?

Rossing reminds us that the rich man's request for eternal life doesn't just mean a safe, happy home in a heavenly mansion, with angels singing in the windows. The Greek for "eternal life," is "zoe ionian," or life of the ages, life that will last.

The rich man (and maybe us too) thinks eternal life is for the individual. He's wrong. Eternal life, the life that lasts, is life lived in community with God and each other. And this eternal life is available. Life with God, available now. No charge.

Rossing challenged us to consider how the church can help to lift up community. Authentic, life-giving, connected community. Churches (Central!) can be a place where people expereince life of the ages, a life of fellowship with God and others.

So maybe we need to eat some meals together. Invite someone for a walk. Go to church with a friend. Find recreation that doesn't cost money and just values time together.

I read an article once that suggested if more families (and friends) took time to eat meals together, it would transform the national landscape. We would be changed. we might even find eternal life.

Anxious, Part 2

2008-04-30T11:04:00.003-08:00

I heard a great interview on NPR's "Fresh Air" yesterday with Dan Gottlieb, a family therapist and call-in host on a Philadelphia radio show.

What sets Gottlieb apart is his story: a quadraplegic for 29 years after an automobile accident on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

Terry Gross asked Gottlieb questions on a range of topics, but I was most taken with his openness about his own anxiety and panic attacks. He described a time when he spent 3 days on a meditation retreat. The night he returned, he awoke in the middle of the night with a terrible panic attack. He said something like, "Couldn't I get more than 5 hours of peace after this wonderful retreat?"

Gross asked how Gottlieb deals with these attacks. I liked his answer. Gottlieb said he looks to the past, remembering that the last time he had an attack, it passed and he got over it. Then he said he steps outside himself and tries to watch himself. He said he observes himself with compassion.

How about that? What if we were able, when anxious, to objectively step back and look at ourselves in love?

Gottlieb said he tries to be tender with his mind as well as his body, which he admits seems to be tiring more easily. "I care for my body like it is a fragile lover that I adore," Gottlieb said.

Anxiously devoted to you

2008-04-28T12:15:00.002-08:00

Alaska Lutheran clergy gathered April 22-23 in Clergy Collegium for fellowship and continuing education.

One of our speakers was Michael Nel, ELCA Region 1 consultation to clergy.

Nel spoke about "Societal Emotinal Process" and "Societal Regression." Now doesn't that make you sit up and take note :)

Actually, it was all about anxious families making anxious societies. Got any anxieties? Read on, gentle reader.

Working from the writings of psychologist Murray Bowen, Nel noted that our society seems to be chronically anxious. How do you know when a society is anxious? A few ways to know:

1.) Responding with emotionality, rather than sound decisions based on principles.
2.) Discussions about how to manage anxiety, rather than underlying problems.
3.) A push for "togetherness" or "sameness" to manage anxiety.
4.) Making lots of rules to manage anxiety.
5.) Focus on rights rather than responsibilities.
6.) Desire for "quick fix."

Any of these happening in our country post-9.11? Any of these ever happen in your family?

Nel suggested behaviors around security, intelligence and "band-aid" legislation as some indications of chronic anxiety in our society.

So how can we deal with anxieties in our self, family and world?

Some suggestions, per Nel:
1.) Look inside yourself, rather than looking for someone else to fix it.
2.) Ask for the facts, become objective, rather than emotionally responsive.
3.) Meditate.
4.) Go to a physical place where you can be more thoughtful.
5.) Make "I" statments to define who you are and what you want/need.
6.) Be aware of anxiety's ability to make you push for togetherness or sameness.

Nel also noted that in marriage counseling, he pushes couples to do exercises separately so they can be more grounded in self before bringing them back together.

He also said abuse occurs more often in families where there is forced togetherness or sameness.

A True Vacation

2008-04-28T12:13:00.002-08:00

After my sojourn in Nome, I spent April 7-15 in Hawaii (on Kauai) with a good friend. It was a wonderful, relaxing, rejuvinating experience.

That next Sunday, a female parishioner at the 8:15 service said to me:

When I moved to Alaska from Chicago, I went back every Christmas to see my family. Then one winter, I went to Hawaii. I said to myself, "Now that is a true vacation."

Here, here.

Can I hear a testimony?

2008-04-04T16:54:00.002-08:00

The main event of Spring Conference is the singing. I was a bit confused at the progresssion of the evening worship service. There's no bulletin, no order of worship.

"So what do we do?" I asked someone.

"We just sing until we're finished," that person replied.

Oh.

There is some structure, of course. An elder leads the service and announces requested congregational songs and honors requests for small groups and solos. (People can make requests on slips of paper and bring them up to the leader). Each congregation also sings a few songs in a rotation. Toward the middle of the event, there is an offering, passing of the peace, prayer and a message by one of the Seward Peninsula pastors.

There's also time for testimony, which is just what you are thinking. People get up and tell a story about God in their lives or what God has done. It sounds a litte bit come-to-Jesus but it's actually part of their tradition and quite beautiful and moving. I feel blessed to just be sitting there listening.

Last night, one woman sang a song she wrote about her struggles with children and family and keeping on the right path. Another woman told of her grief over losing a good friend/cousin in a nearby village. Though more than a year has passed, she said she hasn't been able to visit the village yet for sadness over her friend.

Others give short testimonies in requests for songs to honor someone who has died. In this way, the elders are ever before them. Think what this does for grieving when church is a safe place to remember those who have died and honor them with song or story. Oh that we could be open to sharing our griefs in this way.

Pastor Rob Wentzein (sorry for the likely misspelling) from Shishmaref gave a message last night that made that point: The church should be a place for safe sharing of griefs, sorrows, pains. Not the I-hate-that-hymn-and-the-new-church-carpet-is-ugly kind of lament but the real stories of our grief and saddness. We don't come to church and pretend that we're perfect. That's called the rest of the world. The church is a place set apart, for a people set apart.

We follow a wounded savior, a slaughtered lamb, a God who came to us as human. Could we be as open with our wounds? Just maybe, our honesty might open another person to sharing. We might be liberated to truly BE the people of God.

So. Can I hear a testimony?

Revelation and thanking God ahead of time

2008-04-03T14:45:00.003-08:00

My purpose for attending Spring Conference this year is partly just to experience the event. It's partly to reconnect with folks from Brevig and brainstorm ideas for VBS this year (July 12-19- wanna join our team?)

But since folks heard I was coming up anyway, someone asked me to lead a Bible study on the theme verse, Revelation 21:4a. So I'm leading a study of a controversial book to people from a different culture? Yikes. I was a bit intimidated.

I wondered if 1 or 2 people would show up. I had at least 15 and 5 kids who wandered about or napped.

After a general outline of the book and its themes (Revelation gives comfort to those suffering, God wants to save the whole world not destroy it and in the end, God wins) we had some time for sharing and storytelling. I was delighted when people jumped in and started talking.

One of the most striking comments was from a mother of two, member of the Nome congregation who had traveled in Wales. We were discussing how one finds hope in suffering, as the book of Revelation offers. She noted that Wales was an extremely harsh climate: remote, within view of Russia's seas, far from other villages, bombarded with windy blizzards in winter and blowing sands in summers and also no plumbing or running water. How did one stay hopeful in this place?

Flowing out of the mountain near the village is a stream. The water flows constantly, cold, fresh, clean and delicous. No matter how tough the life became, the stream was always there, a flowing water of life, offering dependable relief from thirst and soothing scenery in its flow. This was God's grace to her.

I was moved by the steadfast, courageous ways people come to live and stay in these harsh climates. When it came time for prayer, I allowed people to add their own prayers. They prayed for loved ones and for save travel during this storm.

One prayer stuck out. A woman prayed, "God, we thank you ahead of time" for all the ways God would continue to be faithful and answer prayer. She repeated this phrase like a litany, always thanking God ahead of time, trusting God would be faithful. What beauty! What hope! What optomism, despite living in a harsh, unyielding land. She trusted that God would indeed finish what God had started.

God, today I thank you, ahead of time.

I love Nome in the Springtime

2008-04-03T14:32:00.002-08:00

Well, there's no place like Nome in the Spring. I'm here April 2-5 for the semi-annual Spring Conference of the Lutherans on the Seward Peninsula. Basically, it's more of a song-fest than a conference. Every night, the singing and testimonies begin around 7 and go as long as we can take it. Last night, it went until 11 pm. It's supposed to get later and later as the days go by.

April in Nome doesn't look like April in Anchorage. There's quite a bit of snow still here, some drifts more than half-way up the houses. I walked by a church this morning (Covenant?) where I could barely read the sign on the building for the snow.

There was a such a blizzard this morning that no flights could land. The temp is around 25; not cold until the winds start howling. I commented that it was pretty cold and Judy Littau (wife of Pastor Matt of Our Savior's Lutheran here) said that was nothing compared to her last home in Wales (out on the extreme west of Alaska). Winds there would gust to 80 miles per hour. So this is the Seward Peninsula tropics :)

I'm continually overwhelmed by hospitality when I visit the Seward Peninsula. I spent a little time this morning at the Nome Rec center, then planned to walk the 5-6 blocks in the wind and snow. I had gone two blocks when a rusty white pickup stopped to give me a ride. It was the staff person at the rec center; he said he couldn't let me walk in that weather.

At the church, there's a warm feeling of fellowship as people from the villages greet each other, friends from Brevig Mission, Wales, Teller and Anchorage's Alaska Native church. There's plenty of good food, Lutheran coffee and conversation.

Stay tuned for more!

Holy, Holy, Holy

2008-03-25T10:01:00.002-08:00

I abandoned my computer Holy Saturday, Easter Sunday and Easter Monday, so I return to you today....Happy Easter! (It's a season of 50 days, you know, so plenty more time to say Alleluia.)

What can one say about the Resurrection of our Lord? Or about the celebration of Easter? We had girls in white dresses (with blue satin sashes), women in white sandals, lilies aplenty and shiny white paraments. We communed with real bread, sang "Christ the Lord is Risen Today," and heard brass and bells. We ate egg bake, muffins and chocolate eggs. People smiled, hugged and laughed in greeting; many hadn't seen each other since the last major church holiday :)

Sometimes I feel sad that I only see many folks twice a year. There's such a diverse group of people who gather at Christmas and Easter and I miss their energy on other Sundays. Still, I'm grateful they come, even if twice a year.

So what can I say about Easter? Well, I finished "A Thousand Splended Suns," a tragic and moving tome about women in Afganistan. And there was redemption, resurrection at the end, only after the main character Laila passed through unspeakable suffering.

Laila muses that while she has found joy in her life, the sacrifices and losses along the way were considerable. Put another way, the resurrection came only through the cross.

So rejoice that your resurrection has come. Maybe you didn't feel it, per se, on Easter Sunday; perhaps your life has challenges and you still feel stuck in Good Friday. That may be and it is okay. But take heart and live in hope that Easter is coming, even when it doesn't seem that way. It may break in just when you least expect it. Alleluia, Amen.

Good Friday

2008-03-21T14:12:00.002-08:00

Today we mark Jesus' death on the cross. The redemption of the world groans in balance as we wait for Jesus' rising. And all I can think about is getting back to a novel.

A Thousand Splendid Suns, by Afghan-American Khaled Housseini, the famed and acclaimed author of The Kite Runner (now a movie).

I didn't mean to get so attached but now I can't put it down and paradoxically I can hardly bear to pick it up again. The stories of the women of Afghanistan are that tragic.

I'll save you the minutea of plot details; suffice to say the book follows two womens interwoven lives in Kabul from 1979 onward. The book is fiction, the politics are not. The Sovients in Afghanistan rise and fall, the mujihadeen factions kick them out, then promptly war with each other, then the Taliban comes, offering unity for the small price of libety. No singing, dancing, writing books or painting. Women are only permitted out of the house accompanied by a male relative, and are forbidden to wear jewelry, makeup or nail polish. Men must grow beards and pray five times daily. Non-compliance to various rules result in loss of finger, hand, foot or life.

Our protagonists in this story suffer not only from these rules but from husbands who treat them like property: yelling, insults, beatings and in once scene locking a woman and child in a dark bedroom for 2 days, no water. At one point, main character Laila comments how amazing it is that the human body and tolerate so much beating.

Now why do I go on about a work of fiction? Well, because while these characters are fictional, the treatment of women is real. The bombing of Kabul was real. The decapitations, stonings and hangings were real. People were capable of treating human bodies like so many disposable parts.

When two airplanes crashed into the twin towers in New York City on Sept. 11, 2001, I remember thinking about those pilots. I thought how fortunate was I to have been born in this country of priviledge. Had I been born in other circumstances, withstood other pressures and hardships, I might have done the same. Those who flew planes into towers were just like me: flesh and blood, sorrow and joy, pain and hope. This does not excuse their actions, it just serves to remind that we are all connected in human sin, one big broken family.

And that's why Jesus came, why I'm waiting for His end of the story like I'm waiting for the end of A Thousand Splendid Suns. While I don't know what will happen to Mariam and Laila, I know Christ's ending for this world. Salvation, resurrection, new life, new hope, even now, while we were still sinners.

Blessed Good Friday.

Holy Thursday

2008-03-20T20:18:00.002-08:00

This evening at Central we did foot washing during out Maundy (Holy) Thursday service. I preached a little sermon about the weirdness of footwashing, so I'll share a few thoughts from that.

Jesus washed the disciples' feet in John 13, though at least one (Peter) was intially unwilling. Maybe Peter thought it was yucky, weird and demeaning that one such as Jesus should was his feet.

Maybe we think of feet as pretty yucky too. And private, intimate. We'd generally rather not get our feet wet. Literally or figuratively.

But Jesus says unless he (Jesus) washes Peter's feet, Peter will have no part with him. Put another way, Peter must recieve the grace of Christ to be in the full community, the full relationship. It's hard to be in relationship with someone who won't let you in.

When we get our feet wet (literally, figuratively), we allow the grace of God, the goodness and forgiveness of God to wash over us, restoring us to relationship with God. When we get our feet wet, figuratively, by getting involved in the world and its suffering, we build authentic community, gathered, nourished and sent out by the Spirit.

This is our life's purpose, to be washed and wash others! Why would we miss out on the life, the big wild life with Christ!

Holy Wednesday

2008-03-19T21:29:00.002-08:00

Five years ago today, the US sent troops into Iraq. I was living in Berkeley, land of the protesters. Though I had aseembled for non-violent actions before, I did not choose to march in any of the peace protests. I was too upset. I was a lukewarm Bush supporter and felt totally betrayed. The message from media and the government was not to criticize the decision to go to war (apparently critical thinking and caring about democracy was unpatriotic) and I should go shopping. I was too broke, so I just brooded.

Today I brooded too, now that nearly 4,000 US service men and women have lost thier lives in Iraq. By some estimates, Iraqi lives lost may be greater than 500,000. Regardless of the number, it's just too many.

Sometimes I forget we are at war with Iraq. If I think about it too long and hard, I'm tempted to drop into despair. Isn't it easier sometimes to just be oblivious, to just go with the flow?

But as I said yesterday, we are HOLY people, called to be set apart for God's work. And while I deeply believe God loves President Bush, I also believe God values justice, compassion, mercy and kindness. I will leave it to God to judge how our nation's leaders stack up.

Meanwhile, though I get compassion fatigue, I will keep reading about the war in Iraq and keep praying. If I feel compelled to speak, I will speak. We have hope that peace will come to that part of the world that God loves so much. It is our rock to which we cling, we who move toward cross and grave this Holy Week.

Holy Tuesday

2008-03-18T16:35:00.002-08:00

A few Holy Week meditations, if you dare to set aside some time this week to practice holiness.

To be holy, by the way, doesn't mean to be goody-goody, pure and perfect. To be holy is to be set apart. Against the cultural grain. So taking a few moments for prayer and reflectiont this week is just that. Holy. Set apart. Prophetic in a world where March Madness is more important than holy week and hockey tournaments are held on Easter Sunday.

So welcome to Holy Tuesday. Take a moment to rest. Yes, you, the one who is multi-tasking even as you read this. Just slow down. Breathe. Be in the holy spaces of a holy week. Be open to listening for God this week. Be open to seeing Jesus in others. Be open to the movement of the Holy Spirit within your heart.

God is about to do a new thing in this resurrection. How can you hold this immesurable joy if your hands/heart/head are already full? Clear out what you don't need. Your worries are taking up too much real estate. Be open.

Coming tomorrow: Holy Wednesday, the 5 year anniversary of US troops in Iraq.

Resurrection

2008-03-10T13:56:00.002-08:00

I'm early, I know, since Easter is nearly two weeks away. But yesterday's (March 9) Gospel lesson was the resurrection of Lazarus and I'm still thinking about it.

Resurrection. Spoken of at a funeral service or Easter celebration near you. And almost only then.

Such a weird concept and a big long church word: resurrection. Does this really mean anything in daily life? More importantly, "So what?"

Two weeks ago at Central, we hosted the memorial for Christoph Von Alvensleben, 25-year-old snow-machiner who died in an avalanche in Turnagain Pass. It was possibly one of the saddest memorials I've attended, one of the largest and one of the most moving in terms of stories told and a life celebrated. Life lost young is tragic and unfair. A few people remarked, "Well, at least he died doing something he loved." To this, I want to say, "Well, he still died." This doesn't necessarily make it better; it is still an enormous loss. As the pallbearers moved the casket out of the church and into the hearse, the family followed and gathered at the door. They held each other and wept. The sisters of the man who died sobbed and cried, "Nein, nein," (they were Germans).

I'm thankful the memorial service was in a place of worship, so this grief could be connected to the resurrection. Because for a Christian, "he still died," isn't the end. Grief and resurrection go together for a Christian. Grief without the resurrection feels hopeless, helpless. Resurrection without grief would be a shallow celebration.

So the "so what" of the resurrection is this: God promises to love and hold us in life and in death, words of comfort for those experiencing loss. Where is Christoph? Held securely in the arms of the God who loved him in life. And, yes, someday there will be a great and mysterious resurrection and Christoph will live again.

But resurrection so what part deux is important too. Life is full of endings, transitions, deaths. Even the good transitons murmer soft whispers of loss. So what do we do? Practice resurrection, as says poet/farmer Wendell Barry. We look for where life will begin again, out of the depths of loss. We hope and look for moments of joy in God and others even in our grief. This is practicing resurrection.

As Wendell Barry says, "Be joyful, though you have considered all the facts."

Kant buy me love

2008-02-27T15:33:00.002-09:00

Philosophy nerd quiz: Describe Kant's second formulation of the categorical imperative.

Anyone, anyone? Buller?

Okay, I'll tell you: human beings should be treated as ends, not means. Honor all humans as beings with dignity.

Why such a fancy title? And who is Kant anyway?

I learned this and more in a lecture Feb. 26 at the University of Alaska Anchorage, in an ethics class taught by my friend Dr. Ray Anthony (who was part of Central's Brevig Mission trip last year and also sings tenor in the Alaska Native Lutheran Church choir). Small world.

Two Central members joined me for this lecture in Ray's ethics class. For those of us (okay, me) who are used to thinking about morality in theological terms, it was interesting to hear it from another perspective.

The class has been discussing the moral reasoning set out by Immanuel Kant, an 18th century German philosopher (so says Wikipedia). Kant is one of the famed thinkers of the Enlightenment. It's interesting that Kant's ideas are called "imperatives," meaning he thinks that desicions based on sound moral reasoning are "musts" for any thinking person.

Actions, said Kant, should be made in accordance to moral rule, should be rational and should be consistent with what any other rational person would do in the same circumstance.

Of course I agree with Kant that we should treat all humans as persons with dignity (from God, I'd add) and that people are ends to themselves, not means to get what I want. That said, we "use" people all the time to meet our needs. That's okay, said Kant, as long as you honor that they don't exist just to meet your need. Still honor their dignity and personhood even as they help you out. Interesting, I think.

Using Kant's principles, the class discussed an article called "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas," by Ursula Le Guin. Synopsis: a fabled city called Omelas is perfect, except for one child who lives in abject misery locked in a basement. All citizens of Omelas believe the child must remain in torture for their happiness to continue. If the child was freed, life in Omelas would cease to be perfect.

But not all are content. Some choose to walk away from this city into the unknown.

Now in a Lutheran understanding, I'd say this child is a scapegoat, a place to cast the sins of the city so they can feel "perfect." It's a way of not recognizing the true nature of the human person as "saint and sinner."

Those who walked away from Omelas recognized it was wrong to treat the child as an object for the sake of their happiness. So they honored the child's status as a human with dignity.

But Ray made another good point: when they walked away, they also honored their own dignity. They embraced their own dignity by refusing to be complicit in a system that would treat a human as an object.

Ray asked the class: where in our city/country/world are humans treated like objects? How can we honor their dignity and our own by refusing to participate in these systems?

Someone in the class suggested sweatshops in other country, where workers put in 20-hour days with inadequate pay and conditions so I can get a shirt for $10 at Wal-Mart.

What do you think?

All kids are our kids

2008-02-21T17:52:00.002-09:00

When I was an intern at Amazing Grace Lutheran here in Anchor-town, the congregation was focusinig on the "Assets" program to encourage adults to connect and support kids in the congregation.

Each Sunday, a member would read an "asset" that helps communities build healthy kids. She'd end with this chant, "All kids are our kids." The congregation got so good at this that it became common parlance around AGLC.

Today I attended an all-school assembly at Denali Elementary, just down the street from Central. As an aside, I don't think I've attended an assembly since the days when I sported blond pigtails, huge plastic glasses and light blue stirrup pants.

Anyway, the assembly was to honor students who'd completed Peer Mediator training, which empowers kids to be problem solvers among each other in classrooms and on playgrounds. The 3-day training was held at Central. We were to receive a thank you card just for offering the space in our building.

I came because I was asked, planned to accept my little thank you card and duck out early. I stayed for the whole assembly, mesmerized.

First, I was amazed at the kids' ability to sit on a hard floor and be mostly quiet.

Then, I was totally impressed with the guidance counselor's use of the values of Denali Elementary (respect and kindness are two of four). I was blown away by a presentation from a group of 6th-grade girls called "Girls Hold up the world" and a skit by a number of upper elementary students demonstrating the problems of name-calling. (We all chanted, "No sticks, no stones, no dissing.")

Finally, I was humbled by the gi-normous thankyou card for Central and the guidance counselor's comments thanking Central for its support of Denali and support of the Campfire USA program we house here. I had tears in my eyes as I accepted the card and watched the kids' presentation. These felt like "our kids" though I knew only a few of them from Campfire.

One of my parishioners who works at Denali sat next to me and she was teary-eyed too. We noted that maybe our world is full of hopelessness and kids standing up in front of other kids pledging to be mediators and warning about name-calling gives us hope for the world.

Take home lesson: be respectful of others, try to work out problems peacefully and most importantly, no dissing.

Oh that adults could live this in our world!

The devil you know...

2008-02-20T11:57:00.002-09:00

The Old Testament lesson for Sunday is about the Israelites and Moses wandering in the wildnerness, having just escaped Egypt (plagues, Passover, Red Sea, chariots drown, the whole nine yards).

Now, in Exodus 17:1-7 they seem to have forgotten that whole God-saved-them-from-everything experience and they are whining. Whining!

"We're thirsty...why did you bring us out of Egypt to kill us with thirst?" In another part of Exodus, when hungry and sick of manna, they say, "Would it not be better to be back in Egypt where we at least had leeks and onions to eat?"

Egypt would have been better? Yeah, if you're into building pyramids for some pharoah who views you as a replacable part. If you don't mind the lack of freedom to practice your religion. Yeah, slavery was great. Whatever!

Maybe I should give them a break. I mean, they did thank and praise God for the act of liberation from Egypt. And if I was wandering in a wilderness with no water and my kids and cows were dying of thirst, I guess I might cry out to God in such a way.

But what interests me most is the question in Exodus 17:7 "Is the Lord among us or not?" Gosh, how many times have we asked this question? Put another way: "Where is God when I'm suffering?"

At Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary in Berkeley, where I studied, there's a fountain based on this story outside of Sawyer Hall, where community meals are searved. A bronze statue of Moses is striking a bronze "rock" and water gushes forth. It's lovely and always running.

The statue grabbed my imagination because I had a tough first year of seminary. California was too big, too scary and too far from home. I missed my family and Iowa terribly. I spent most of my first year figuring out how I could transfer back to a seminary in the Midwest. I had filled out all the paperwork for Luther Seminary in Minnesota. I just wanted to go home.

I was a grumbling Israelite: Why did you bring me to this God-forsaken place?!?

Somehow, though, that water fountain comforted me. It reminded me that God does call us into weird and wild places. It reminded me that God never promised our journeys would be neat, tidy and full of comforts of home. It reminded me that God was right next to me in my painful experiences.

In the end, I stayed in Berkeley and was forever grateful for that wilderness journey. An older friend once remarked that when she looked back at her life, she had many happy times to recall. But the times that were most formative and that she was now grateful for, were those times of struggle.

Is the Lord among us or not?

He is here. They call him Emmanuel.

Central, listen to your children

2008-02-11T13:44:00.000-09:00

At Confirmation class last night (Feb 10), we discussed the history of the Lutheran movement as one that is always reforming, always growing and changing.

The worksheet from the curriculum asked if our congregation was growing, declining or staying the same. So the kids as me. I decided honesty was best. We're actually declining slightly in attendance. We discussed which churches in our city (and nation) are growing fastest (non-denominationals) and where the Lutheran church actually is growing (Africa).

So why isn't Central growing, I asked. Their responses startled me.

"When you walk into church, it's very stiff, it's not very welcoming. It's like a funeral."

"The way people act it's almost like they don't want you to be there."

Now this is just the opinion of some kids, but we must listen. Their voices matter. Yet even with these critiques, when I asked how we could grow Central, they got really into the brainstorming and I was touched by their honesty and passion. Here are some things they suggested.

* More potlucks
* Better advertising of worship and church events
* More activities for young people to bring their friends
* Some activities immediately after worship for youth
* Re-do the outside of the building
* Painting inside (kids volunteered to help)
* A better sign out front, maybe with color to attract people driving by
* A coffeestand selling espresso and treats on Sunday mornings
* Add more contemporary, upbeat music.

These are terrific ideas, probably better than the stuff our church council has come up with (no offense). Like most great ideas, they do take coordination and work to pull them off.

Any takers :)

On Caucuses and Kazahk Airports

2008-02-06T22:31:00.000-09:00

Attending the Alaska Democratic Caucus last night (Feb. 5) was akin to getting through security in an aiport in Kazahkstan. You just keep pushing.

Alaska (like my home state Iowa) has caucuses. Who knew? Apparently thousands of Anchorage-area folks, who slammed into Begich Middle School (Dems) and The Eagan Center (Repubs) to weigh in on Campaign 2008.

Getting there was half the fun (?). I sat in traffic for nearly 2 hours on 15th and Debarr, knowing I was arriving 50 minutes later than the doors-closing time. Luckily, Alaskans care very little for rules and proprieties, so you could register right up until the vote was counted.

Near the middle school, I pulled onto a sidestreet and ran the rest of the way. 12 mintues. Minus four degrees. With a flu bug I've nursed for four days. Hey, I love the policital process.

Cars were parked on sidewalks up and down Debarr Road, and the parking lot was full of cars parked so randonmly it was as if their owners were raptured, Left-Behind style. People were actually leaving cars in the roundabout in front of the school. When someone later had to be removed by ambulance, the person on the loudspeaker had to ask at least three times for cars to move out of the emergency vehicle's way.

Inside, the gym was a Kazahk airport. No lines, no order, just lots of blue signs screaming "Hillary" and "Obama" and glassy-eyed faces below. Many had arrived well before 5 pm. Registration was supposed to close at 6:30; I arrived at 6:50. People were still streaming around precinct maps and registration tables like so many drones in a hive. Voters hastilily filled out cards and pushed their way to registration officials to get counted.

When I finally found my precinct room, my room captain didn't even have a list of registered Democrats, so I had to re-register. I made it over to the floor just in time to get counted as an official voter. Then, more waiting until we could fan out and stand up for the candidate of our choice.

The woman on the loudspeaker in our room played dualing microphones with the overhead loudspeaker. Many precincts had to move rooms because they were too big. Someone in our room (precinct 23) had tried to create hospitality with cheese and crackers and potato chips. I missed the goodies; the empty carcasses littered tables, adding to the disheveled look of the room.

Finally, though, I was able to stand up for my candidate of choice and get counted. And that matters.

Despite my woozy-ness from flu and lack of food, it was a delight to see peoples' passion for the process. And the hope that things can be better in our nation. That we can stand up and ask for change. And that maybe, somehow, one of these candidates will listen to the voices of the people and advocate for the poor.

That's what I felt in the room that night: hope.

I was proud to be a part of the process.

The Hmong family baptism, Part I

2008-01-29T13:35:00.000-09:00

Several years ago at Central Lutheran Church, there was a growing ministry with Hmong people. A refugee people from Laos, many Hmong have made their homes in Anchorage, with large Hmong communities also in Minneapolis/St Paul.

The ministry at Central has slowed, partly because many Hmong want a Hmong-speaking pastor or prefer to worship where they are not in the minority. This is understandable. However, we still have a couple Hmong families connected with Central.

I went to visit one of them, along with Marilyn Martinson, who has maintained a good relationship with this family for many years. Marilyn helps with English lessons, transportation and just general support. Her husband Ron built a shoe rack and a major addition onto the family's mobile home in Mt. View.

I joined Marilyn last week because there was a new baby in the house and the mother was interested in baptism.

Mai is a 17-year-old new mother, married within the last year to Tommy, who is about 22. Tommy's parents, Bau and Cher Tong, are regular worshippers at Central. When Tommy married Mai, Mai came to live with Tommy's parents as is the custom in that culture. Mai reminded me that at 17, she's old compared to some newly-married Hmong, who wed as early as age 12.

A polite, well-spoken young woman, Mai told me that she was interested in having her 4-week-old son Prince baptized. I asked if she knew what it meant. She thought it had something to do with being Christian but she wasn't sure. Her family, she explained, was Buddhist and not interested in Christianity.

So I spoke of baptism as the entry into God's family (even though God already loves you right now, Mai!) and a public ritual that you believe that God loves you. We talked about the use of water in the font, which reminds us that our old self is washed away and we become God's child. It's a way of hearing and knowing God's "yes" to us with a visible sign (water.) After my (I thought) quite simple but effective explanation, I asked Mai if she had any questions.

"Do you have to pay for it?" she asked. My heart nearly skipped a beat; she was so intense and serious. "Of course not," I replied. "It's a free gift from God."

We chatted more about other things. Bau served us coffee and cookies. Bau's two small grandchildren Vanity and Adam wandred in and out of the living room, cuddling next to Marilyn and showing her various books and catalogs. We all laughed and told stories. Bau showed us some money from Laos, and of her hope to return someday.

As we prepared to leave (after promising we'd return soon and I'd bring Mai a Bible), I remembered how tired I was when I arrived. I had wished I'd picked a different day to visit. Then I thought about how sometimes I'm tired and put off visits to our Sudanese family.

It's interesting: as certain as sun and snow in icy Alaska winters and the spring that stubbornly comes after breakup, is this: even when I'm weary, the kindness, thankfulness and hospitality of those from other cultures leaves me energized and grateful.

Christianity is not a religion

2008-01-24T15:51:00.000-09:00

Last week I attended the Byberg Preaching Conference in Oregon, where theologian Douglass John Hall presented a series on "What Christianity is Not." One of the take-home nuggets: Christianity is not a religion. This could be shocking to some, welcome to others. Your take?

In a series of lectures, Hall articulated that Christianity is NOT: 1.) culture religion; 2.) a religion of the book; and 3.) A system of morality. Rock on DJ Hall, I say.

Again, his main point is that Christianity is a FAITH not a religion. I like this. I like remembering that the early followers of Christ were a movement, not an institutional system of regulations. Sure we need good order (I'm a Myers-Briggs J myself) but the heart of the good news is God's deep love for us and our call is to share that with a passion.

I have pages of notes from Hall's lectures, but another nugget I liked was when he played with Karl Barth's notion of God hating religion (just ask the prophet Amos). Barth describes religion as unbelief, as grasping, as taking a grasp at God. Hall adds, "If a religion is grasping, it will be competitive, exclusive...desire for certainty and absoluteness...this leads to violence."

On the other hand, authentic faith allows one to be grasped by God. A Lutheran spin might add: we don't have to DO anything, God comes to us, wooes us, loves us just as we are.

As a sidenote, I used DJ Hall's "Why Christian?" for a sermon series last fall and it really captured imagination/interest in my congregation. Seriously recommended for those on the fringes of Christianity or those willing to give it a second, open-minded and at times critical look.

Skipping the Apologies (almost)

2008-01-24T15:46:00.000-09:00

Dearest friends in blog-land-
Somehow, the craziness that is Christmas for pastors overwhelmed me and I posted not over the holiday season.

Then I went to Iowa from Dec. 31-Jan. 8 to visit family, then was in Cannon Beach, Oregon, for the Byberg preaching conference Jan 13-16.

Then I was so embarrassed that I hadn't blogged in so long that I procrastinated by not blogging. It's a vicious cycle. But the office manager goaded me today, so here I write.

Anyway, I'll not apologize (too much) for those (few) of you who read this on a (somewhat) regular basis. Sorry :)

Moving on.

So happy new year, ephiphany, January, etc. More (hopefully) thoughful remarks coming soon!

Sermon on Peace, Dec. 9

2007-12-10T12:35:00.001-09:00

I had a couple of requests for this sermon, preached at Central on Dec. 9. Please bear with it; it's kind of long. Deep peace, Lisa

"Peace"

Write a sermon about peace, our second Advent candle. I opened a Word doc and stared at it. What could I say about peace? This week, I had a conflict with a member of the Central family over a miscommunication. It haunted me Friday as I worked on this sermon. We discussed the conflict and both said, “I’m sorry.” Still, how to preach about peace when I can’t find it in my own congregation.

This week, I also had a conflict with a friend. I was unintentionally quite rude to this friend. I apologized but that doesn’t immediately fix things. This, too, haunted me as I worked on this sermon. How can I preach about peace when I can’t find it in my own friendships?

A few years ago, I had learned to play guitar and brought it to my extended family Christmas. My grandma requested Silent Night. As I played, two members of my extended family began chatting and it suddenly erupted into a yelling match; meanwhile, I sang softly. One of them ran out of the room. I kept singing softly, finishing the song in tears. How can I preach about peace when I can’t find it in my own family? Perhaps you can insert similar stories here. Congregations, families and individuals pray for peace on earth, peace between nations. How can we pray for peace when it’s not in our daily lives?

Sometimes when I’m low, I turn to God’s word for comfort. So how about this Matthew 3:1-12! Will there be comfort in these words? John the Baptizer is proclaiming repentance on the shores of the tiny Jordan River: “Prepare the Way of the Lord! Make his paths straight.” People listened to him and got baptized. The religious leaders of the day came, too, like all good religious leaders, to check out the scene. Maybe they wanted to get baptized just for insurance or may be they were just researching. Before they can utter a word, John lambastes them, calling them snakes, announcing wrath to come and urging them to bear fruit (which I take to mean that they were currently pretty barren). John continues to insult their Jewish ancestry and pride in being children of Abraham. Finally, John issues this threat that Jesus will carry a winnowing fork to separate wheat from chaff. It seems like John is calling the Pharisees “chaff” here.

On first glance, the only seeming way to find comfort here is if you knew FOR SURE you were wheat and not chaff. Maybe then you could find comfort in knowing you were peacefully in God’s hand. Maybe you could speak as certainly as the authors of the Left Behind series, who spoke a little too excitedly when asked in an interview about the fate of those considered “chaff.” They seemed to take a particular delight in the eternal damnation of some. I guess they knew for sure that they were the wheat. I disagree with those authors. Christ would take no delight in damnation of anyone. In fact, Christ seemed to prefer “chaff” over “wheat” in his day.

Let’s move to repentance, because I think it has something to do with peace. Greek experts remind us that this word “metanoia” is really about turning and going in the other direction. It’s about going 180 degrees the other way. It’s not just about changing your mind; it’s about changing your actions. But do we really need to repent? Didn’t Martin Luther get rid of the idea that we have to confess each and every sin to receive God’s mercy? I mean, the man drove himself crazy (and so would we) trying to recount them all. Do we need to repent? Of every sin, no. Of turning around, yes.

The reality of being human is that sometimes we go in the wrong direction. It’s not a judgment or a sign of moral failing. It’s just the way things are. Good people make bad choices; we do it all the time. So repentance offers us a venue to turn around and commit to going in another direction. We can do better, right?

Author Richard Jensen says when we think of repentance, we often think in an “I can” way. I can do better next time. I can think before I speak an unkind word. I can communicate earlier with people to avoid mix-ups. I can put others’ needs first. I can be more loving and compassionate toward the people in my life. I can work toward peace in this world. Do you think that maybe this Advent season, you can do this? Maybe just a little?

This is a great idea, but the reality is, repentance is more of an “I can’t” than an “I can.” True repentance is looking at our lives and saying, “You know what, I actually can’t. I can’t be good all the time, I can’t always treat others as I should, I can’t always put others’ needs first, I can’t always say the kind word or be the ‘bigger’ person. I can try but realistically I can’t.” And this, dear ones, is true repentance. We say, “I can’t,” but God in Jesus Christ can. This reliance on God’s strength is the way to peace.

This is the good news. The call to turn around, to repent, is the call to take an honest look at our lives, see our shortcomings, say, “I can’t” and know God says “I can.” God can and does offer us love and presence, forgiveness and hope and peace. When we say, I can’t, we remember our baptism (and John’s echoes of baptism). We believe that in baptism our old self is washed away and we are born again. We can remember our baptism every day; every day we say “I can’t,” we die to that old self and start anew. I wonder if maybe our best hope for peace in this world and in our lives is by returning to the font, to the baptismal font, acknowledging our shortcomings, knowing God’s forgiveness and trusting God’s love will help us turn and go a different direction. It is said that peace begins at home and this is true. Yet for Christians, this font, the waters of life, is our home. Here we are born and reborn.

A farm story: I never knew that chaff was worthless. Indeed, on my parents’ Iowa farm it is not. A couple weeks ago I talked about the baling and unloading hay as a family and enjoying the rest that followed. Before that promised rest, though, we swept the chaff that remained on the wooden bale rack. For this is another definition of chaff (I checked Webster’s) the bits and pieces of hay that remain after the rest is formed into bales. So my brother Jay and I swept the chaff and pushed it into recycled seed corn sacks that Dad held open. There was very little waste on our farm; Dad fed even the chaff to the cows. I like to think of it as cow appetizers.

Now that’s hay and Jesus spoke of wheat. So I checked this out online. Wheat chaff is the bracts and casings left behind from the grain. And what’s a farmer to do with wheat chaff? It gets tossed not into a fiery furnace but fed to animals. It becomes life-giving.

I believe that in our lifetimes, there is no way that God will every fully separate the wheat from the chaff in all my heart and actions. But I do believe that even my failings, God will somehow use for God’s purposes. Perhaps I might learn valuable lessons on how to better be Christ in this world. Perhaps my failings will lead me straight to God, to repentance and to saying “I can’t,” instead of insisting that I always can. Maybe God will use my chaff and yours too.

Maybe this is how peace is to come into the world. Maybe not with big acts of giving from Bill Gates and Oprah Winfrey. Maybe not through religious leaders like the Pharisees and Sadducees or pastors and bishops. Maybe not by big corporations or empires. Maybe it comes quietly, unassuming. Maybe peace travels a bumpy road and comes through obstacles. Maybe peace comes when the word is very dark. Maybe peace comes into the rough-hewn mangers of our hearts, lying in a bed of straw (or chaff). Peace will come again this year. May we recognize it in Christ’s coming.

Shish on film!

2007-12-03T17:13:00.000-09:00

Shishmaref is on the big screen. Or at least Anchor-town's big screen.

This week, Anhorage hosts its own international film festival. From features, to documentaries to shorts, the fest has dozens of options for movie-lovers.

"Polarized" features Shishmaref, a town of 560, mostly native. There's also a Lutheran presence in Shishmaref Lutheran, though that wasn't featured in the film.

The film discusses how global warming has affected Shishmaref, which is losing coastline fast due to erosion. Permafrost is melting and people's houses are literally falling into the sea. I saw it last Saturday; it was great.

So that's my recommendation: check out this film. It's a "short," only 10 minutes but good. For your ticket price, you also get to see another documentary. It's only playing once more during the fest: Saturday at 2:30 at OutNorth (Debarr/Bragaw intersection). Learn more at www.anchoragefilmfestival.com

'Tis the season for distraction

2007-11-26T10:39:00.001-09:00

Got prayer?

Nah, too busy. It's almost December, you know. Time for the marathon of Christmas cards/shopping/parties/cookies/gifts/fruitcakes/extra pounds. Y'all ready for this?

Timely, then, that one of our parishioners submitted an article for our December newsletter about being "too busy" for worship. She wrote about the rest and peace that comes when she does make that holy space.

Sometimes I think the busier I am, the more I MUST stop and rest, worship, pray. If I am full, there is no space for God to come in and nestle in the manger of my heart.

But we all get distracted.

In another newsletter from Christ Lutheran in Soldotna (shout out to Pr Randy) there's an opening letter about distractions in prayer. We all experience this, admit it. My moments of silence can be the loudest part of my day, with the echoing thoughts screaming in my brain.

Pr Randy quotes British theologian Herbert McCabe, so I will too. (Shout out to McCabe, where ever you are). Says McCabe, when we pray for "high-minded" things like wars to cease and the hungry to be fed, we may be easily distracted. Yes, these are good to pray for but they are not our deepest desires. We are distraced by our deepest desires, so pay attention to them. McCabe goes on:

"If you are distracted, trace your distraction back to the real desire it comes from and pray about these. When you are praying for what you really want you will not be distracted. People on sinking shops do not complain about distractions during their prayer."

Amen!

Frequently facebook

2007-11-21T14:22:00.000-09:00

It's true. Since my twenty-something sister helped me figure out how to use Facebook this summer, I'm a regular user. I confess. My email address for Facebook, BTW, is centsmith@gci.net. So if you'd like to be my "friend," please invite me. I can't figure out how to invite you. No offense.

Anyway, came across this funny little ditty about Facebook on YouTube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2b-fJxzpK7s

What does this have to do with ministry? Well, the reason I signed up (and as Pastor Lisa) was by an invite from a parishioner who doesn't attend worship but communicates with me on Facebook. Interesting way to do ministry, eh?

A little more press

2007-11-16T12:40:00.001-09:00

Okay, one more bit of media attention. Check out what the Anchorage Daily News has to report about the after school program at Central, run by Campfire USA.

http://www.adn.com/news/education/story/9457561p-9368961c.html

I promise I'm not quoted in this one :)

On interfaith dialogue

2007-11-13T09:01:00.000-09:00

Last Thursday I attended a luncheon of Jews, Christians and Muslims. We came for interfaith dialogue, facilitated by Maryam Quadrat, a Muslim scholar whose family is from Afghanistan. She did a number of lectures last week as part of APU's "Engaging Muslims" series.

First, let me say unapologetically that we each have a responsibility to learn from and listen to those of other faiths, cultures and ethnicities. This is foundational if we are to work for peace in our world. Living in a bubble of those just like us is not the way toward peace and understanding. We must go out of our comfort zone and dialogue with someone different.

Sitting in the Willow Conference room at Providence Hospital last Thursday, I felt alive. We introduced ourselves: Muslims, Jews, Methodists, Lutherans, Christian Scientists. Our common purpose was to listen and hopefully hear each other.

Here are some things I learned:

* Islam is tightly wound with politics and culture. Political and religious leaders are "in" with each other, kind of like the Holy Roman Empire/Catholic church of middle ages Europe. This is problematic, but not a FAULT in Islam. Can you say, "crusades?"

* The Koran does NOT say women must cover their heads. It says they must cover their "ornaments." So it's open for interpretation and many disagree, just like with the Bible. Remember these are men in power doing the interpreting. So, women cover their heads. Some think "ornaments" means hair. A more liberal read on the Koran would suggest "ornaments" merely refers to "breasts." And, yes, those should be covered in public!

* In Afghanistan, only men are allowed in mosques. Period.

* The Taliban are burning 10 schools a month in Afghanistan.

* The way to change? Quadrat suggests EDUCATION, which would "put the Taliban out of business." People need education and scholarship rising up from universities. This is where we can find hope.

When asked at the end, what can we do to help bring about peace, we heard only simple answers. But maybe these are the most important.

Recognize that peoples' most basic needs are the same everywhere. And get beyond misconceptions to actually learn about those from different cultures and religions.

To that, I'd add, "Do it now."

Can I Have Your Autograph?

2007-11-07T16:01:00.000-09:00

Seriously. Someone asked me this yesterday (I think they were kidding). We've had some media attention around Central lately, thanks to the municipality of Anchorage budget that underfunds an after-school program at Central.

Two years ago, the mayor's office agreed to fund a Campfire USA program for free for kids in our West Fairview neighborhood. In the 2008 proposed muni budget, the program was not fully funded. Neither was a summer kids' program at St. Anthony Catholic Church, a fellow member of our community organizing group AFACT.

So we did what we knew how to do: we had a public meeting with assembly members, presented research on why these programs are important and asked assembly members to commit to supporting them.

And then the media came. The local NBC and CBS affiliates interviewed me here at Central, one on Monday, one on Friday. One interviewed our parishioner Dahna Graham. Both she and I ended up on TV. I was sure glad we were getting some "press" for something positive. Yes! Now we just have to wait and see what the assembly will do.

I was pretty fired up about getting our muni support for the families in Fairview who use the Campfire program. One mother recently told me that her son has no where else to play (they live in a high-density living area). And a 6-year-old boy in an apartment for hours on end is no good!

Another thing that fired me up: when we focus on the families being served, we win. When we focus on the politics, we lose. There's been some tug of war between mayors' office and assembly 'round this buget. I was extremely disappointed when a parishioner from another congregation (thank you!) wrote an assemblyman to urge his support for the afterschool program. The assemblyman's response: it's the mayor's fault, he left it out of the budget, why don't you ask him. The last sentence was in all capital letters...like he was in third grade or becoming Owen Meany.

Anyway, I don't know whose "fault" it was that the after school program wasn't in the budget but the damage is done. I commend all who showed up to support these programs in our AFACT meeting Monday night, and all those on the assembly who will work for after-school programs in the budget.

For all the saints

2007-11-01T12:41:00.000-08:00

Hello to all you saints out there. It's all saints day in our tradition and I've been thinking about this all week. My yoga teacher even mentioned it in class this morning (after first asking me to please explain the intent of the festival -- nice to get some positive PR for Christians in there :)

Pastor Mike explained last year that All Saints on Nov. 1 traditionally honors those "bona fide" saints: matthew, mark, luke, what-have-you. All Saints was started sometime in the third century to honor martyrs.

Nov. 2 is All Souls, which honors anyone who has gone before. I always thought All Souls sounded funny, especially when I noted that an Episcopal church in Berkeley was named "All Souls Parish." Duh!

In worship tonight (Taize, 7 pm) and on Sunday, we'll light a candle for those who have gone before. It's good to think of this. We need ritual to remember the dead and celebrate their impacts in our lives. After all, most people at a funeral aren't crying over the one who died, they're grieving all the other losses they haven't finished grieving yet. Some of them we never finish grieving and that's okay. We just live with "grief moments," as Donna Stevens says, an Anchorage nurse and expert in grief. We should have her speak at Central sometime.

So I'll share that I'm thinking about my Grandma today, who died in March. Janina Hnantow Smith. I haven't been back to Iowa since she died, so sometimes I forget she's gone. I think this is normal. And I know the grief moments will keep coming, especially when I return after Christmas this year.

So maybe you have special saint to think of today. Maybe you can light a candle to remember him or her. I'm going to go light one right now.

Pondering my sinful nature

2007-10-25T12:36:00.000-08:00

I opened the devotion book to that night's reading:

"I pray that I consider my sin and the sin of the world so that, sorrowful and broken, it might drive me to Christ." (or something like that!)

Ugh. Ponder my sinful nature. No thanks. My life's good. Why would I want to waste time feeling bad? I just couldn't get excited about this one.

I'm working through a devotional book from my spiritual director (To Walk With Christ). It's based on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignagtius. Each week has a prayer focus, scripture readings and an encouragement to journal. Past weeks have asked me to ponder God's love for me and ponder the gifts of God in my life. These were fun; I just wasn't into feeling down about my sin.

A couple days later, I looked at the texts for Reformation Sunday, on which I'll preach. Romans 3:23: "Since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." Well, of course I know as Lutherans we recognize ourselves as saint-sinner. But I kept hearing in the back of my head the voice of a college friend who once told me, "You know, I don't really think of myself as a sinner."

So what's this about? Hubris? Pride? Dependency on my own gifts instead of God's? Worshipping the false idol of myself? Probably something in there is true. Douglas John Hall warns, for example, that sometimes we don't really love others, we love ourselves for pretending to love others.

I don't think I've quite answered this for myself, so I'm not going to leave you with the "right" answer, just ask the question again: How do I ponder my sinful nature in a real way when my life's good?

Almost Famous

2007-10-18T16:38:00.000-08:00

Sometimes pastors get to be talking heads. I pray we say things that matter.

I did a news interview with CBS Channel 11 today. The topic: the US House was unable to override President Bush's veto of the SCHIP bill that would reauthorize spending for health insurance for uninsured kids. I wore my AFACT hat (Anchorage Faith and Action, Congregations Together -- which is a community organizing ecumenical group --and I'm on the board). The clip will air tonight (Oct. 18) at 5 and 6 pm news.

The bill impacts Alaskans. Families at 100% of poverty level get Medicaid. Families who can afford it or have adequate employer coverage use private insurance. In AK, those who are at %175 of poverty level or below, get insurance through DenaliKidCare, which is 70 % funded by the federal government. So, now that SCHIP has failed, we wonder if/when/how Alaska will fund DenaliKidCare.

The reporter wanted to know AFACT's reaction and what we'll do next. I said we were disappointed, though pleased that Rep. Don Young did vote to override the veto. I also said we'll keep talking to our state reps (which AFACT members are doing right now) and find out their vision of children's health care. We'll also keep talking with families.

It must be frightening to be a parent with no insurance for your children, or choose between rent, food or insurance.

I don't remember the strain, but I grew up without health insurance. My parents were farmers and couldn't afford private coverage. We did lots of home remedies and only went to the doctor when absolutely necessary. When my younger sister was born, my parents slowly paid the hospital bill in installments. Thank God no one was ever seriously hurt. When I was in college, my parents were able to find a state-sponsored health insurance for my sister, so she did grow up with this aid.

Anyway, I certainly don't have all the answers, but not helping working parents provide health care for their kids is not acceptable.

Faith, starring Glenn P.

2007-10-08T15:38:00.001-08:00

Can I just say that I love working with our new senior pastor Glenn Petersen? This sounds like I'm sucking up but he preached a good sermon on faith yesterday. Here, a few gems worth repeating.

* Faith is not a choice but it prompts choice.

* Faith is personal but not private.

* We don't own our faith. Our faith owns us. (It belongs to a community).

* Faith lives in us. It's not something we have.

* We "keep the faith" by living it, by giving our love, compassion, kindness away.

Good stuff, eh? Thanks Glenn!

What do they expect us to be?

2007-10-02T17:39:00.000-08:00

I'm preaching a sermon series at our 9:45 contemporary service on doubt. More specifically, on "Why Christian?" by Douglas John Hall. It's an apologetic for Christianity and an honest look at why we believe the things we believe as Christians.

Last Sunday (9.30) was on "What difference does Christianity make?" When I spoke of faith as trust (not certainty), a few people had comments.

One young man (married, 2 elementary-aged kids) said people outside of churches expect (want, demand?) Christians to be unwavering in faith. He reminded us of the upset of the recently discovered letters of Mother Teresa's doubts. He said we may feel free to express doubts in church but "out there" there's a different expectation.

I was troubled by his comment. Perhaps it rang too true.

I do have doubts, at times, and feel it's most healthy to live those questions in community, as well as in my personal prayer time. In my work with young adults, I feel my honesty about doubts are actually a strength.

I wonder this: why do those outside or marginally outside chruches want us to be so steadfast? What purpose or role does this serve? Is it just a symptom of a black-and-white culture that wants easy answers?

I don't know. This seems opposite from Hall. He says doubt make us seem MORE relevant to the world. He suggested that if Christians were more honest about their doubts, our answers would be more compelling.

I wonder, finally, if focusing on what others want/need isn't the right place to start? Maybe we still start from out centered self -- centered on Jesus Christ as the particular expression of the abstract God -- so centered that we are free to doubt as part of a loving relationship with God.

Spacious

2007-09-26T16:00:00.000-08:00

I'm teaching yoga, after graduating from a year-long teacher training program in June.

I teach Wednesdays in the early morn at the Inner Dance Yoga studio here in Anchor-town. Some of my students know about my "real job," some don't. I always tell them if they ask and they always look slightly surprised. Of course a young female pastor gets that a lot in general...

Anyway, this morning's class was all about opening the hips and releasing tension and tightness there. The yogis believe that we store anxiety in our hips muscles and if we stretch them, we will release this pent-up anxiety. Heck, we're North Americans, I think we store anxiety EVERYWHERE. I digress...

I was reminding my students to create spaciousness through the various poses that open the hips. At one point, without really planning to, I heard myself quoting Lutheran Pastor Dan Erlander, who said "salvation" in Hebrew is can be translated as "spaciousness."

I always find it interesting to make these connections across faith backgrounds. A yoga class where a Lutheran pastor is quoting a Hebrew understanding of salvation.

It felt good. It felt spacious.