Follow me, and I will make you fish for people (Mark 1:17).

“Follow me.”  One of the very first directives uttered by Jesus in Mark’s gospel.  Though I love a good Christmas birth story, adorned with angels, shepherds, and a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths, Mark doesn’t give us that.  For Mark, there’s no time for those details.  The babe wrapped in swaddling cloths has a job to do.  To proclaim the arrival of God’s Kingdom, and to duke it out with the powers-that-be; the institutions that would stand in God’s way.

What strikes me in this Sunday’s gospel reading is the urgency of Jesus’ message.  Without even taking a breath, Jesus’ call to repentance is followed by the call to follow.  In the six verses found in this Sunday’s gospel, Jesus has seditiously announced the presence of God’s Kingdom over and against that of Caesar, and called four lowly, off-the-radar, fishermen to follow him.

 

Jesus’ message and actions are urgent; there’s no time to create lists; no time for committees to be formed; no time for mission statements to be drafted; no time to give 2 weeks’ notice to the boss. The Kingdom of God train has pulled into the station and it’s time to climb aboard.

Now more than ever we need to hear this sense of God’s urgency and be challenged by its implications. It is this Kingdom of God urgency that challenges us to take on Caesar; to speak out in the face of injustice; to not be moderate or neutral on issues of inequity or the dehumanization of those less powerful; to not be silent when families are torn apart by cruel and unjust immigration policies; to not turn the other way when women are routinely harassed by powerful men who are nothing more than disgusting sexual predators; to not turn a blind eye when the President of the most powerful nation on the planet blatantly reveals his racist bias by degrading with vulgar language black and brown people and their countries of origin.

In all of this, where is the church’s Kingdom of God voice?  Where is our Kingdom of God urgency to right what is clearly wrong?  Now more than ever, Martin Luther King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail is calling out to us.  These urgent words penned 54 years ago to an inactive church are as applicable to us now as they were then.  

With prophetic courage and urgency, Dr. King wrote,

“So often the contemporary church is a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. So often it is an archdefender of the status quo.  Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church’s silent – and often even vocal – sanction of things as they are.”

He goes on to write, “If today’s church does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club…”

As your pastor, I can assure you of this:  I will not be an activities director of a social club.  I am a pastor; I am your pastor and as such I will continue to seek ways in which we as a community of faith – a Kingdom of God community – can discern God’s will, witness God’s love, while following his Son to a Jerusalem Cross and beyond.  If that means calling out powerful abusers then so be it.  If it means protecting the powerless, Harriet Tubman style, then so be it.  

We follow Christ, and no one else, therefore we cannot keep silent.  Following Christ, with voices raised and hands outstretched we will change the world.

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug

A Different Christmas Story

Just a few days ago we gathered in worship around the glorious story of shepherds and angels; “a poor lowly stable ”; and a young couple with their newborn baby “wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.”  Our joy could hardly be contained as we loudly sang “O Come All Ye Faithful” or in hushed tones with candles in hand sang of a “Silent night”, where all is “calm” and “bright.”  As the days of Christmas have progressed, the three magi figurines have been making their way across our sanctuary chancel to take their place at the Nativity scene on Epiphany.  As they do, we will hear a very different Christmas story. 

This coming Sunday we will hear that God’s good news of great joy is not good news to everyone; especially by those in positions of power.  We will hear of an earthly king who in his narcissistic paranoia is so threatened by the birth announcement of another king, that he desperately seeks out this newborn in order to kill him.  This is certainly not a story told in any Christmas pageants I’ve ever seen.  And yet it is a critical part of our story.  We know that for his whole life, this newborn king will be a marked man, one day being tortured and killed on a cross for bearing witness to God’s Kingdom over and against those of Herod and Caesar; what the biblical scholar Raymond Brown refers to as “An Adult Christ at Christmas.”

I’m not completely sure where my sermon is going on Sunday.  I’m intrigued by the juxtaposition of outsider magi, who get what God is doing, to insider religious folk who do not.

I also can’t help but wonder who the Herods and Caesars of this world are and what the church’s voice could and should be in the midst of it all.  Am I a religious insider who thinks I’ve got God all figured out and am therefore closed to God’s new revelations?   Am I one who craves my own power, desiring that my will be done over and against that of God?  It’s way too easy for me to point to powerful world leaders and assign Herod’s name to them; though there may be some wisdom in that.  But am I just as capable of seeking to eliminate anything or anyone that I perceive is a threat to my White, male power?

Toward the end of Matthew’s gospel, the adult Jesus tells us that what we do to the least among us, we do to him.  What are the implications of that when put in the light of this Sunday’s gospel reading?  Are tax laws that remove 13 million people from health care coverage akin to Herod seeking to kill the infant Jesus?

These are all valid questions with which people of faith must wrestle and I invite you into this holy struggle of which I don’t pretend to have easy answers.  There is nothing simple about this Christmas story.  For it is far more than just an account of a birth, It is the story of God dwelling with us and our response to that new reality.

On the journey with you,

Pastor Doug

Slaughter of the Innocents...

I honestly don't know what to say anymore.  All I have in response to the mass slaughter of innocents at the Sufi Mosque in Egypt is the following prayer I offered in worship yesterday. I wish I had more.  Maybe in the end, prayer is all we have.


Heavenly Father,
You are the source of life and light. You are our refuge and our strength, a very present help in times of trouble. Amid the turmoil and strife in our world, your love is steadfast and your strength never fails. Be with all victims of violence and bloodshed, especially this day with the victims and families of the horrific attack on the Sufi Mosque in Egypt. Make us quick to reach out in love and healing to these our sisters and brothers, that there may be woven the fabric of a common good too strong to be torn by the evil hands of war. Amen.

Another Mass Shooting...

Another mass shooting has occurred; this time in a church during worship.  26 people are dead, ranging in age from 18 months to 77 years.  Oh sure, you and I probably don’t know any of the victims and more than likely would never have met them.  They lived in a different region of the country and belonged to a denomination much different from ours. But I can imagine that many of them came to church like you and me, wondering how long the service would be; hoping the sermon wouldn’t be too much of a “snoozer”; looking forward to connecting with friends; hoping they would get home in time to see the opening kickoff of a Sunday afternoon football game.  But that didn’t happen.  This past Sunday morning the hallowed ground of a church became a killing field and still there can be no meaningful conversations on guns and those who must not have them. 

I’m tired of politicians and their hollow rhetoric of “thoughts and prayers”.  Sorry but that no longer cuts it.  Leave the prayers to those who lead worship in our churches, synagogues, and mosques.  Leave the prayers to those who gather in those communities or at prayer vigils or who pray as Jesus puts it, “in secret”.   The term “thoughts and prayers” has become a cliché.  “Thoughts and prayers” are code for: “I lack the courage and conviction to stand up to special interests who fund my election campaigns.”  “Thoughts and prayers” are the priest and the Levite crossing to the other side of the road when faced with the reality of a man lying in a ditch, robbed and beaten. (Luke 10:30-32).

Polls show that a vast majority of Americans support the idea of background checks before guns can be purchased and yet lawmakers continue to blow smoke by claiming that this is no time to talk about such things; that to speak of gun control in the face of mass shootings is to politicize tragedy.  The only ones politicizing tragedy are those whose jobs depend upon funding from special interest groups intent on selling more guns.

My outrage and tears have little to do with the gun industry and those who support it.  My heart breaks because each and every victim was fashioned in the image of God and Jesus told us that what we do to each other, we do to God.  My heart breaks because this past Sunday families were forever scarred and irreparably torn apart.   My heart breaks because mass shootings like this don’t have to happen and yet they do with chilling regularity.

Gun deaths are at epidemic levels, and yet those whom we’ve entrusted with the responsibility of governing and protecting us are not doing their jobs, instead they feed us nutrition-less platitudes of “thoughts and prayers”.  They claim to be protecting our 2^nd Amendment Rights to bear arms, all the while neglecting that uniquely American creed; “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness;”  A creed that no longer applies to Sunday’s victims, as well as those in Las Vegas, Orlando, Washington, Charleston, Newtown and countless other places where military-grade weapons are readily available and easily attainable.

Where do we go from here?  Perhaps our Episcopal sisters and brothers can shed some light for us.  In response to the epidemic of gun violence, a group of more than 70 Episcopal Bishops offers the following statement calling for prayer and action:

In prayer, Christians commend the souls of the faithful departed to the mercy and love of God.  We beseech our Creator to comfort the grieving and shield the vulnerable.  Prayer is not an offering of vague good wishes…in prayer we examine our own hearts and our own deeds to determine whether we are complicit in the evils we deplore.  And if we are, we resolve to take action; we resolve to amend our lives...

As a nation, we must acknowledge that we idolize gun violence, and we must make amends.  Violence of all kinds denigrates humankind; it stands against the will of God and the way of Jesus the Christ… Each of us has a role to play in our repentance.  Elected representatives bear the responsibility of passing legislation that protects our citizenry.  If our representatives are not up to this responsibility, we must replace them… one does not offer prayers in lieu of demonstrating political courage but rather in preparation.    (Bishops United Against Gun Violence).

Peace,

Pastor Doug

Charlottesville - A Pastoral Letter

August 15, 2017

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

The events that took place in Charlottesville last weekend are a haunting reminder to us that the world in which we live is not only broken, but infected with the worse kind of disease there is:  Hatred.  The following prayer excerpt was offered by the ELCA Council of Bishops prior to last Saturday’s event.

“Just and merciful God, we give you thanks for our sisters and brothers – bishops, pastors, deacons, people of God – who this Saturday walk the way of the cross in Charlottesville, Va. On this day and in that place, they join other courageous and faithful people across time and space to stand against bigotry, hatred and violence; to stand with those who are intended victims; and to stand for justice and mercy, peace and equality for all people…By your might, break the bondage that bigotry, hatred and violence impose on their victims and their perpetrators. May your Kingdom come on earth as in heaven.  And, we pray, empower us in our own communities to follow their lead as fellow servants to your dream of a community in which all people and their gifts are welcomed and honored, cherished and celebrated as beloved children of a just, merciful and loving God; through Jesus Christ crucified and risen for the life of the world.”

No one, including myself, imagined that innocent lives would be lost that day.  Hundreds of torch bearing, white privileged “nationalists” many of whom bearing Nazi Swastikas and dressed in riot gear, beat and intimidated anyone who dared oppose their protest message of hate and destruction.  Make no mistake about it:  This was not a protest for equality.  It was a protest for supremacy.

We in the Lutheran Church have a tragic legacy of quietism when it comes to hate-filled crowds promoting themselves as a superior race and desiring the elimination of “inferior” ones.  With the exception of the Confessing Church in Nazi Germany, who refused to be silent in the face of human extermination, the Lutheran State Church of the 30s and 40s said and did nothing; even when forced to display swastikas as altar paraments. 

It would be easy for us to turn off the television and pretend that nothing is wrong; to claim the media is making mountains out of mole hills; to turn and look the other way when we hear stories of violence perpetrated against persons of different ethnicities and immigrants.  It would be easy for us to look away saying, “that’s just the way the world is” without asking what or who has unleashed and given voice to the hatred.

As followers of Jesus, the Prince of Peace, who reached across all boundaries and divides, advocating love and justice for the least of these, we know what we have to do.  We cannot and we must not remain silent.  We, like the psalmist, have voices that “sing to the Lord a new song”. A song that anticipates the lion and the lamb  coexisting in peace; A song that proclaims justice rolling down like an everflowing stream; A song that emboldens us to love recklessly as Christ on the cross first recklessly loved us; A song that declares love of God and love of neighbor are all that matter.

Let us raise our counter-cultural songs together as we engage in both conversation and action in the weeks to come. Let us not be fearful in the face of hatred.  Let us not remain silent in the face of racial atrocities.  For the world is now too dangerous for anything but Truth, and too small for anything but love.

Walking with you in Christ,

Pastor Doug

Sermon Reflections for August 6th: Food for Thought

As he went ashore he saw a great throng; and he had compassion on them, and healed their sick...Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass, and taking the five loaves and the two fish he looked up to heaven, and blessed, and broke and gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds.  And they all ate and were satisfied (Matthew 14).

As I look ahead to the task of preaching on Sunday, I am struck at the scandalous, counter-cultural message of this story.  I don't think this is a tame story that can or should be watered down.  In fact, if we're doing diligence with this or any of the gospel stories, we cannot escape the cosmic transformational message of a God who has come to turn our world and our priorities upside down.

This is not a harmless story where some sick folks are healed and some hungry folks are fed. This is nothing less than a story of radical hospitality devoid of counting costs.  In the midst of collective brokenness, notice what Jesus does not do.

For starters when sick people are brought to him, he doesn't ask for insurance cards.  Nor does Jesus inquire as to any pre-existing medical conditions.  All we are told is that he sees the brokenness, has compassion, and heals.  By the way that word "compassion" in the Greek implies "gut wrenching".  Jesus' gut is literally turned upside down to the point of nausea as he lovingly yearns for the crowd's healing.

It's one thing for Jesus to heal the sick, but feed the hungry too?  Jesus' followers can't begin to imagine how five loaves of bread and two fish will feed thousands.  They know what empty pews on Sunday morning look like.  In their "numbers-crunching" ledger, it is clear to them that there are way too many people to feed for the amount of food they have.  "Send them away" they tell Jesus. "Let someone else feed them.  We can't be expected to feed everyone can we?"

You and I know that they stand in the presence of Jesus; the embodiment of the God of abundance, so their talk of scarcity seems ludicrous.  It's a no brainer for us to see that in Jesus' presence all will get fed.  But I guess the question for me is this:  Do we see that same Jesus in our presence today?  And if so, do we trust that all will be fed and that God will use us to do the feeding?  Do we trust the call to throw caution to the wind, feeding and healing at whatever the cost?

Again, notice what Jesus does not do here.  He doesn't force the hungry to sit down and have a Bible study before they can be fed.  He doesn't check their communion cards to see if they are "in" or "out".  He doesn't make them join the Jesus on the Hillside Church.  He doesn't make them pass a theology litmus test.  He simply commands his followers to feed everyone.  Did you get that?  He commands.  Jesus doesn't make a polite suggestion of something nice to do.  If you are going to follow this guy, you better get your feeding hands ready, because there's actually work to do.

I'm not totally sure where my sermon will end up on Sunday, but these are at least a few thoughts that have been guiding me this week in my prayers and preparations.

Oh and in case you need some reinforcement of the idea that where Jesus is, food will be there also, join us this Sunday morning for Breakfast Church at 9:30 in the downstairs auditorium where worship and breakfast will be combined.

Let the journey begin,
Pastor Doug

Pastor Doug's Easter Reflection

“But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared.  They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body” (Luke 24:1-3).

God of resurrection, we come to the tomb bearing spices we have prepared.  We have seen death up close and personal and we know what to do; our spices in hand are testament to that.  We, along with the women who followed your son from Galilee, have stood at a distance watching these things paralyzed by grief and fear.  We, along with them, have seen the mocking and scoffing of a rigged justice system; a kangaroo court by which unjust convictions lead to death. In the chilled hours of early dawn we’ve walked among the tombs expecting nothing more than death. Journeying among the stone cold cemetery markers of an unlit day we see death everywhere and it scares us into euphemisms and denial;  And yet in our heart of hearts we know there can be no denial.  We know that death lives in our families, in our communities and in our world. We know that death will one day claim us.  It always does. We’ve seen it with our own eyes as your son closed his eyes breathing his last on the hardwood of a cross.  Death is all too real.  So like those early morning women, we sojourn with broken hearts; carrying our spices among the tombs imagining only death.

But you O God won’t have any of that, for you are the One that no tomb on earth can contain; not even the fancy new ones.  Indeed, you are doing a new thing.  Your voice shakes the mighty cedars of Lebanon. A word issues forth from your lips and creation itself is birthed into being.  Air from your lungs awakens life in our God-imaged bodies.  In your resurrection reality, Jesus doesn’t stay dead.  In your empty tomb reality, stones are cast aside like pebbles skipping across the rippling waters; grave clothes are left behind; tombs of death are transformed into gateways of life; stunned silence turns into good news of great joy; grieving friends on dusty roads are healed by the presence of a stranger breaking bread in their midst and when all is said and done, the Word goes forth:  Your Word goes forth riding atop our alleluias and nothing can stop it; not even death.

Palm Sunday “Hosannas” inevitably turn to Good Friday shouts of “crucify”, but no longer do we look for the living among the dead.  Life in the tomb is finished.  Alleluia! Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug