We welcome Easter morn with shouts of “Jesus is risen. He is risen indeed!” As they echo through our sanctuary, I wonder if that truth will continue to resonate through our lives. Jesus is risen, we proclaim. His resurrection is to be a new, ongoing reality for us; one that changes our actions and very being. This is present tense, touching our here and now; in our lives, our world, and his holy universal church.
Yet like those first disciples surprised by the empty tomb, we can instead get lost in that past moment of time. The resurrection tends to serve as a historical marker rather than a living sign for our present reality. We remain stuck in our shock and fear trying to make sense of things. What can such a resurrection mean? Perhaps more so, what can it mean for me?
Soon after that first Easter morning, Peter preached that Jesus was not abandoned to the realm of the dead, nor did his body see decay. Paul explains to us in many of his letters that through faith the power of that resurrection makes us a new being, a child of God, and we will be heirs to Christ’s victory to share in that resurrection forever.
This is all true, yet neither great Apostle came to understand the resurrection as a singular past event or one all about our far off future with Christ. Instead, the Risen Christ and the Holy Spirit woke them from their initial shock. It was revealed that they were to share in the living resurrection for eternity – starting now. Christ’s light is to shine through us as we walk with him and talk with him, but unlike that old Gospel song (In the Garden), we cannot tarry there.
Jesus instead tells us, “I have come that you may have life, and have it abundantly.” This resurrected life isn’t one found by standing alone; mute and in shock. It isn’t a life solely about what Jesus can do for us as individuals or a community. It calls us to action.
The resurrected life that we are invited to share is one of living relationship. It is one of service, fellowship, and corporate worship. It is one where we seek to follow Jesus each day and introduce him to others. It is one where we might even be called to share in the sting of Christ’s sacrifice and cross out of love.
Let’s not just stand here pondering. Let’s live like we believe in the resurrection. As the Father has sent him, he sends us now. Among the greatest miracles, Jesus has chosen to make the resurrection universal and eternal through our own unworthy love and lives. We must now go and share that miracle with others, for Jesus is truly risen in us. We are to live as his risen body, a resurrected people, forever – starting now.
Christ’s peace be with you always,
Pastor Lou
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this article are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
Within an ancient culture that didn’t count women during the government census or necessarily notice or respect them in the home, it is not a real shocker the bible doesn’t often mention women.
Despite this, it remains most probable that women were an important part of Jesus immediate community and present at his final Passover Feast. Matthew reports that at the feeding of the 5,000, the count did not include women and children.[i] Or later, Matthew shares that women who “had followed Jesus from Galilee to care for his needs” watched as he died.[ii] (Was this perhaps after preparing and sharing in his last Passover Feast?). There are other attestations from other Gospel writers as well which some see as supporting that women were among his disciples and active in his ministry.
Whether you agree or not, or think women had their feet washed by Jesus or not, Jesus’ greatest intention on Maundy Thursday was to teach us to love and serve everyone (“one another”) as he had us. After all, Maundy comes from the Latin word mandatum (meaning “commandment”), and it was used in the early Latin Vulgate translation of John 13:34: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” Using scripture to interpret scripture and seeing Christ’s own example, it is hard to argue that this command to love only covered Christians. Christ longs for his family to grow.
Yes, this final teaching echoed Jesus’ earlier ones. What’s the greatest commandment?[iii] Who is our neighbor?[iv] Jesus reached out to all those marginalized by society whether Jewish or not. We are not to become their stumbling block.[v] We are to let “the children” come to Jesus.[vi] Indeed, we are to love whoever might be thought as “the least of these” – perhaps children, inmates, the poor, women (in many cultures still), anyone we tend to label as “sinners”, and non-Christians. Matthew is said to have been the most Jewish of the Gospel writers; at least his writings reflected many Jewish teachings and responded to many Jewish biases about their being the chosen ones of God. Yet, he shows Jesus to be incredibly open and loving to all. Jesus longs for relationship!
Despite this, some traditionalist Roman Catholics have become more and more vexed by Pope Francis’ election and recent behaviors. He has cast aside signs of regalism. He has acted in ways lifting up the priesthood of all believers. He has expressed openness to Protestants, Orthodox Christians, and people of other faiths entirely. As in Argentina when a Cardinal, Pope Francis seeks simplicity, and he lives that way. Not the least of their issues with him, many traditionalist have expressed “the horror” (not my word, but often found in their tweets and posts) that the Pope would wash not only the feet of a juvenile women who happened also to be a prisoner, but in one case was Islamic. “He cultivates a militant humility, but can prove humiliating for the church,”[vii] Fr. Bouchacourt, head of the traditionalist, schismatic St. Pius X Society, said. I have seen similar less than charitable comments by other traditionalists, even from some of those who haven’t broken from the Roman Catholic hierarchy but instead claim to love and obey it. Some even suggest Pope Francis’ behaviors are just a show in violation of scripture.[viii]
If signs of humility are embarrassing to the Roman Catholic Church, then I bluntly but in love suggest these folks take a look at Jesus’ own behavior. Jesus often intentionally exemplified his teachings through public behaviors. That’s what teachers and leaders need to do. Jesus prayed in public at times not for his own sake and not for a show, but so that others could be comforted and learn of God’s love.[ix] He purposefully embodied earlier prophesies to help reveal his identity, such as by riding a young donkey into Jerusalem.[x] (Certainly, Palm Sunday was quite a spectacle.) Some of the same conservatives – those who were so protective in promoting the sanctity of the conclave and agressively argued that the election process was in the Spirit’s presence and following God’s will – turned on Pope Francis that first night.
Even as a Lutheran, I would agree that the Spirit is involved in leading the Roman Catholic Church, but I would also argue the Spirit seeks to guide all other denominations as well. Institutions made of fallible humans can err (a very Lutheran attitude to be sure), but we still remain Christ’s church. Despite the historic divisions of the universal church, Pope Francis holds one of (if not the most) prominent positions of Christianity. To be ashamed of such humble, public actions that so many “of the least” will take notice of seems the real shame to me.
This Lutheran says, “Good for Pope Francis!” Perhaps I shouldn’t care so much, but I (like countless other Christians) hope and pray for the coming reality of Christ’s own prayer that we live as one.[xi] We are the church together, not our denominations, through the grace of our shared faith and baptism. I humbly support my brother Francis in his efforts to make Christ’s love known in the entire world.
After all, Jesus asked us to love and support one another. He never said with our human minds, hearts and ways that we always would agree on everything.
According to one commentating participant of Lent Madness 2013, “For the people who comprise the parish of St. Monica and St. James Episcopal, Frances Perkins is not just a New Deal bureaucrat, but is a living, breathing saint who worshipped with their predecessors and put the incarnational theology of their Anglo-Catholic liturgy into concrete social action.”[i]
Yes, it was often in their rooms and sanctuary that she stayed, prayed and made plans to champion a social safety net for the elderly, eliminate child labor, fix a minimum wage, create the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), provide disability for those hurt on the job, create unemployment insurance, a shorter work week, and worker safety regulations. She was an important person of her time, and her actions still help shape our nation. For some, these programs remain a lifeline.
Frances believed faith “served as a bedrock and a way to seek meaning in life when so much seemed inexplicable.”[ii] In her young adult life, she attended Mount Holyoke College, whose founder, Mary Lyon said, “Mount Holyoke women should live for God and do something.” A Baptist turned Congregationalist, she also is known to have advised, “When you choose your fields of labor go where nobody else is willing to go.” She knew the needs of the world.
Within that legacy, one of Frances’ teachers took her to look at the hard realities found in the nearby textile mills and factories.[iii] From affluence herself, Frances discovered a vocation to do something for the poor, the immigrant, and all others in need. Like today, many young women had come to the United States for promised jobs, but instead, they were forced into prostitution. Working with police and other institutions, Frances fought against this plight, the frequent drug and alcohol addiction, and the abusers of others.
Having been a cop in such communities, I know this to be no small task. Indeed, it is frightening in our seeming powerlessness over such issues as well as to stand in the face of real and potential violence. Thanks to her faith, Frances wasn’t afraid to enter relationship with the poor or anyone in need. She went where too few are willing to go.
Nominated as the first woman cabinet member as Secretary of Labor under Franklin D. Roosevelt, she continued to care about “the least of these”[iv] among us. She actively sought to protect Jewish and other refugees facing persecution in Europe under the Nazis. Until 1940, the Labor Department controlled the Immigration Service. She never got the quotas she desired, but a number of our Jewish neighbors owe their lives partly to her efforts, as do the famous Von Trapp family of Sound of Music fame.[v]
Writing this during this Passover holiday, I am reminded how Frances sought to echo God’s own love as reported in Deuteronomy 10, “For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe, who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and who loves the strangers, providing them food and clothing. You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”[vi] Reflecting previous teachings of the prophets, Jesus, the Son of God, called us to concretely live out Deuteronomy 6, to love God with all that we our and our neighbor as ourselves.[vii] Frances heard and understood rightly that our neighbor includes all those around us. We are created and called to be God’s ambassadors to the world.[viii]
Most certainly, Frances Perkins lived within the concrete reality of amazing grace. Once when asked “Don’t you think it’s wrong for people to get things they don’t pay for?” “Why no,” Frances Perkins responded. “I find I get so much more than I pay for. Don’t you?”[ix] She understood that assisting the poor wasn’t just the work of government, and so she enlisted the help of church communities from across the United States to help respond to the upheavals of the Great Depression. She served the poor and needy directly as well, despite her station, throughout her life.
In a fallen world with fallen people, some today take advantage of such “grace,” do not appreciate it, or even intentionally abuse it. As humans, that’s the way it has always been. Even though the poor and undeserving will always be with us, we are to feed, clothe, train, and love them anyway. People will die, but we are to seek their healing and comfort. We are a people of hope and grace, and not ultimately one of reason. In fact, as Philp Yancey professes in his book What’s so amazing about grace (2002), life isn’t fair but neither is grace. God utilizes a totally different scale of justice than we do where love overflows.
Still, some might have very sound political and economic reasons to disagree with how Florence concretely tried to share God’s love, the system that has came about in more recent time, or even aspects of her theology. Yet speaking from a Lutheran perspective, we don’t expect perfection in God’s saints or require mystical miracles. Among the greatest mystery is that love can be found at all in a world that rejected the love of Christ and often still does. Even more so, we imperfect people are the means God has chosen to make love known since Jesus ascended.[x]
With Frances’ win of the Golden Halo, some will likely gnash their teeth at the “political correctness” of it all. If her last competitor, the evangelist Luke, had won, some others would have likely bristled at the patriarchal or mythical aspects of his victory. (I was happy either way for this matchup is at its corps just a silly way to promote Christian formation, and all saints share in the most import thing – Christ’s victory.) The truth remains that both saints remind us of our own call to be saints in our own context. We are to use the gifts that God gave us to the best of our ability – for God’s glory and not our own.
Some may never know our doubts and darkness, seeing only our public “mythic” face. Some may disagree with our attempts to love or even aspects of our faith and theology. Most of us will never be recognized or lauded for loving others. Still, I firmly believe that we are saints nonetheless; part of a great cloud of witnesses[xi], and God will make our love matter.
If we are indeed Christ’s saints (and we are through faith), we can’t just sit here as if faith without works is ok. A living faith infers we need to love – always imperfect even at our best, but love nonetheless; prudently certainly, but not with so much prudence that we are frozen to inaction from fear of error or consequences.
As Jesus said approaching his own suffering and death, the poor will be with us always, but in saying this, he alluded to Deuteronomy 15, “Give generously to [those in need] and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to. There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land.”
Br. Roger of Taizé used to remind those of us in discernment for vocations there or in other parts of the church that Jesus is awaiting us in that dark chasm of our future. We must go forward to him with trust. We must seek to love, for Christ will meet us then and there. You see, God will use all things (even our failures and sin) for the good of those who love him.[xii]
As a theological descendent of Martin Luther’s Doctrine of the Two Kingdoms, I do indeed trust, understand, and demand that government has to be part of the solution to address poverty and other social ills. Yet, I acknowledge that we have to be smarter and demand more accountability and care. Government is a bureaucracy after all. People are imperfect. I also sometimes wonder if some of us rely on government as a solution to social ills way too much or (worse?) would rather pay taxes to support such programs than be in relationship with the poor. (As I often teach, a personal relationship with Jesus infers a relationship with others, including those in his church and without; those who have plenty and those who lack.) Too often, we attack one another rather than wrestle with the problem at hand. We get angry at the possibility of change or what we percieve as an attack on our precious viewpoints.
Now is the acceptable time…a time to be truly charitable – seeking to serve all those suffering, listening with respect and patience to one another, forging new relationships to seek God’s will and do it, forgiving error when it occurs. (And it certainly will come!) In humility, we must also remain aware that the worst error might prove to be our own, known or unknown.
True, Frances Perkins isn’t yet on our Lutheran (ELCA) Liturgical Calendar, but perhaps she should be – and not just because the ELCA has a full communion agreement with the Episcopal Church. We believe we are saved by grace through faith in Jesus Christ (by trusting in what he has done for our sake) – not our own works. In Frances’ historic context, she was remarkable and helped shaped our modern nation. More importantly, her witness was a faithful one. She has inspired many others to loving service at Mount Holyoke and elsewhere, yet she was never perfect nor are we. She could yet serve to inspire others to serve and hold discussions to evaluate how we could love our neighbor most effectively through government, church, and as individuals.
Maybe that’s a great miracle we should always trust in and act upon. We are truly Christ’s saints – all of us who believe even if with doubts – and we need to seek to live as his saints, his body in the world. Perhaps it is a happy coincidence that Frances Perkins won the Golden Halo on this Maundy Thursday (from the Latin mandatum, meaning command). Her imperfect but faithful life reminds us of the command Jesus left us as our inheritance during his Last Supper. The Gospel of John (13:34) reports that Jesus said, “A new commandment I give unto you, that we love one another; as I have loved you.”
Without fear, without hesitation, without our preconceived political notions or human expectations, may we heed Christ’s great command to love God and one another. Whether we view ourselves more left or right or anywhere in the middle, we shaare the family name of Christian. May Christ help us live as his saints each day in our own context – using our time, treasure and talent to the best of our ability.
Heaven knows, this real world needs all the saints it can get. We will never love perfectly. Our work will seem to never end, but do not be afraid. As Frances believed and scripture promises, Christ “will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more…”[xiii] Thanks to Jesus, inspite of and because of our sin, we will share in a victory beyond our hopes and dreams.
Jesus will do what we cannot. All things will be made perfect and new. His justice and love will reign fully at last.
To read of Lent Madness and the awarding of the 2013 Lent Madness Golden Halo visit: http://www.lentmadness.org
This year, Mount Holyoke, a women’s college in Massachusetts and alma Marta of Frances Perkins, celebrates its 175th anniversary. (There alumni, staff and students caused a large spike in turnout for Frances each round, thanks to use of social media.) Congrats to them! (If only VMI had done the same for Jonathan Daniels!) You might like to visit their special anniversary website celebrating women of influence: https://www.mtholyoke.edu/175/celebrating-175-years-women-influence
The United States Labor Department is also celebrating their 100th anniversary. Learn more here: http://www.dol.gov/100/
You can learn more of Francies Perkins by visiting the Frances Perkins Center on the internet or in person: http://francesperkinscenter.org/
Watch this short excerpt of “You may call me her Madam Secretary”
From the Washington Post, March 28, 2013 edition, you can read about Frances’ win and the reaction in the Labor Department. I hope and pray all government employees view their service as a sacred vocation, loving their neighbor, as she did: http://wapo.st/165chTZ
For those that have looked at my Heroes and Sheroes page, you might recognize that today is a special day for me. March 25th is the traditional commemoration date of Saint Dismas on a number of Christian liturgical calendars, and I bear his name.
Widely known as the “Good Thief” or the “Penitent Thief”, Dismas was crucified beside Jesus. The name Dismas was later adapted from a Greek word meaning “sunset” or “death.” His real name is unknown. Most likely, he was not a thief, but instead, some kind of rebel or raider deserving the death penalty under Roman law.
Dismas’ lesser feast day or commemoration derived from a tradition believing that March 25th was the actual calendar date of Christ’s crucifixion, although the Passover and Easter celebrations move due to their following a lunar calendar. The Feast of the Annunciation is the primary, modern celebration on our Lutheran calendars today (except when March 25th falls during Holy Week), but I still stop to remember St. Dismas annually on this day.
Although Dismas was never officially canonized by the Roman Catholic Church, he is declared so in scripture by Jesus himself. We hear in Luke that Dismas defended Jesus from the abuse of the other condemned man, commonly named Gestas (but also unknown). Hearing Jesus preach, teach and pray from the cross, Dismas began to look to Jesus with trust. He asked, “Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus declared, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” (See Luke 23:39-43)
Years ago in a home with many challenges, I came to see the world in black and white terms. I secretly believed myself unlovable and defective even at a young age. As I write elsewhere, I am sure I heard the story of Dismas often in church growing up, but it first really impacted me while watching The Greatest Story Ever Told on television with my father in about eighth grade. At that time, I had been going through confirmation classes at St. Pius X Roman Catholic Church. Prior to confirmation (viewd as a sacrament in the Roman Catholic faith tradition), we were asked to think of a confirmation name, one to symbolize our coming to adulthood in faith and hopefully be a saint who inspired us.
In the Roman Catholic tradition, St. Dismas is the patron saint of condemned prisoners, reformed thieves, undertakers, funeral directors, penitent sinners, and prisoners. Indeed, some Lutheran and other prison ministries are named after him. When confirmed in the Catholic tradition, I decided to take his name. This seems ironic perhaps for one who would become a police officer, yet I always remembered how my heart was deeply touched by his story. In the depths of my being, I hoped I could be so loved.
Later as a young adult, I left active life in the church. I believed in God at some level, but I made bad choices at times, experienced losses that often come with life, and experienced much too much evil as a police officer. In short, I gave up on God. I became empty and cynical. I came to feel that not even Christ’s cross was enough to save me. I had much to repent over, for I was very wrong.
Yet when my life seemed darkest after another profound loss, two dear Christian friends from my past redirected my gaze toward the cross and its certain grace. On March 7, 1992, I had what I call my “re-conversion experience” – for I understand now that since my baptism and before, God has always been active in my life. My faith was small and deformed, but it made a difference in my life. God loved me before I ever realized it, even on Christ’s cross long ago. I truly experienced amazing grace, and my life changed.
Through this renewed experience with grace, I came to understand and more importantly finally trust that I was indeed loved and forgiven. I began to dig into scripture as never before. I hungered for the Word of life, and I found it alive in and through Christ’s church. With the church, I sought to share the grace I knew to be true with others in both word and deed. My police work became a sacred vocation. Later, God would invite me to take his love on the road through mission. Overtime, I discovered a home in the Lutheran family of faith. Still a sinner, I trust that I am also a saint. Christ declares this through his death and resurrection for our sake, and I do trust him for he never lies. His sacrifice atoned for our sin – past, present and future. His death remains enough to save us all.
Each year since my “re-conversion” and return to the church, I think of Dismas and rejoice. I celebrate the opportunities found in Lent and Christ’s forgiveness. I trust that with others who believe (and even those who don’t yet) I was, am and will be remembered. Dismas’ story is our own.
Yes, Jesus remembered us all as he died on that cross. He died, so that we could truly live…starting today.
Psalm 32 – The Joy of Forgiveness 1 Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven,
whose sin is covered. 2 Happy are those to whom the Lord imputes no iniquity,
and in whose spirit there is no deceit. 3 While I kept silence, my body wasted away
through my groaning all day long. 4 For day and night your hand was heavy upon me;
my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer. Selah
5 Then I acknowledged my sin to you,
and I did not hide my iniquity;
I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord’,
and you forgave the guilt of my sin. Selah
6 Therefore let all who are faithful
offer prayer to you;
at a time of distress, the rush of mighty waters
shall not reach them. 7 You are a hiding-place for me;
you preserve me from trouble;
you surround me with glad cries of deliverance. Selah
8 I will instruct you and teach you the way you should go;
I will counsel you with my eye upon you. 9 Do not be like a horse or a mule, without understanding,
whose temper must be curbed with bit and bridle,
else it will not stay near you. 10 Many are the torments of the wicked,
but steadfast love surrounds those who trust in the Lord. 11 Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, O righteous,
and shout for joy, all you upright in heart.
Prayer:
Gracious Lord, even as you died on your cross, you looked upon Dismas and saw our human need, shared suffering, and sin. You looked upon him with love before his repentence. His simple trust in you opened a way of communion with your heart’s mercy and forgiveness even as the centurion’s spear sought to tear your heart asunder. Your death and resurrection saves me. His trust in you inspires me. Bless your entire church; that together we remember your cross with confidence, persevere in faith through times of trial, and experience the resurrection of our lives today. Empower us to remember and serve the outcast, sinner, and all who suffer; sharing your grace, mercy and love, as you have so abundantly shared it with us. Amen.[i]
[i] This prayer is inspired by a Roman Catholic prayer.
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this article are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
The Judean desert from Jerusalem the Movie (expected in 2013)
“From early Biblical times to the Middle Ages to the Present, the rugged, isolated beauty of the Judean Desert (Midbar Yehuda) has long attracted those seeking refuge, solitude or spiritual inspiration. According to the Bible, the prophet, Elijah, King David, John the Baptist, and Jesus all spent time here. Herod the Great built two fortresses here, Herodium and Massada, and during the Byzantine period (6th century A.D.), magnificent monasteries were built into its cliffs and rock crevices. Bordered by the Judean Mountains to the West and the Dead Sea to the East, the Desert’s 1,500 km landscape features canyons up to 500 meters deep and cliffs up to 300 meters high. Arid hills and valleys are contrasted with ancient springs that create oases such as Nahal Arugot, Nahal Prat, and Nahal David. It’s no wonder that this breathtaking, harsh and often surprising place has held the attention of so many for so long.” – as posted by Jerusalem the Movie on Facebook, March 8, 2013
Coming across the above picture of the Judean desert got me thinking…
As we walk these forty days of Lent, we remember the forty years that the Jewish people wandered in the desert due to their wandering hearts, as well as Jesus’ own forty days there fasting. As the note with this striking picture attests, the desert has often been a fruitful place for the people of God. Sadly, we need not travel far to find desert times in our lives. This can be so even when we practice “proper disciplines” and actively seek out God. Even in France, Br. Roger often compared the beautiful community, ministry and village of Taize’ to a desert, for no matter where we are, we can feel at times parched and long for the water of God.
I entered such a time once again this past week. Already tired from a new ailment recently diagnosed, I had two members of my congregation die within two days. During that same time, my mother called in tears to let me know my aunt had died. My mother’s melancholy increased as she came to realize she is the last of her generation in our family. My own grief grew as I realized that I couldn’t respond to New England to support her and my cousins due to my illness. Just when I thought I had had enough, I heard more tragic news – a member of my former police department had been shot during a traffic stop.
I remember well how such incidents tear at the heart of the entire police community. In fact while already grieving the present, I found myself thrust back in time to attend to other wounds now reopened. My soul cried out for my friends and the entire agency. I wondered, “Is it someone I knew?” I grieved anew the losses I remembered while serving with the Alexandria Police Department and elsewehere. I felt sad. I felt physically sick. I felt terribly and utterly alone in those moments.
Throughout the day, I prayed. I watched and wandered through my day. Yet, God seemed far away. Words of friends and family didn’t (couldn’t?) fully console me, and I longed for my hidden God. Yet all the while, many long past experiences reminded me of God’s faithfulness. Amidst the darkness, I clung to the light and love experienced in those times and the written promise of the steadfast love of God in scripture like a life preserver.
As the Bible assures us and Martin Luther reminded us, don’t trust our eyes, reason, or feelings. Trust Jesus. Hold onto him trusting that he will prove true to his promise that he holds on to us, guides us, and love us – always. As one of my favorite fictional crime fighters, Cadfael (a medieval monk and Sherlock Holmes rolled into one), was prone to say, “Sleep well, for God is awake.” Yes, even when we haven’t the strength to raise our heads, God looks kindly upon us. Life may still prove hard at times, but God’s love proves everlasting.
Since that day, I have been thinking a lot about my wandering, human heart. I am grateful that the officer shot is recovering. I am grateful for the spouse, family, friends, and congregation that joined me in prayer and waiting. I am thankful for the God who once again reminded me during a time of desert that our wanderings will come to an end, and healing will be ours.
Yet, another officer has been shot in Virginia and died; this time a Virginia State Trooper. Others in my congregation have faced new losses, and because I love them, I suffer with them. Still I hold on and wait, for to whom else can I go? Why should I hide? Instead, I’ll seek to serve, and worship, and love while I wander, for I’m called to live. I will find life within Christ’s community the church. I’ll seek to share hope and life outside of it. This desert time will end, for Jesus has already spoken the words of eternal life. Amidst the savage beauty of our desert wilderness, I trust we’ll discover the wonderous truth that Jesus never lies.
Through Isaiah, we hear God promise that our desert time can only lead to new life. Let’s, together, seek to remember these words as we walk on:
“The poor and needy search for water, but there is none;
their tongues are parched with thirst.
But I the Lord will answer them;
I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them.
I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys.
I will turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs.
I will put in the desert the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive.
I will set junipers in the wasteland, the fir and the cypress together,
so that people may see and know, may consider and understand,
that the hand of the Lord has done this,
that the Holy One of Israel has created it.” (from Isaiah 41)
Indeed, and the Holy One has created us as well. His hands will never let us go.
This is a trying time for all those in Virginia’s law enforcement community. Please keep all of them and their families in your prayers. If you would like to learn how you can better support law enforcement in your community during times of death and beyond, consider visiting and supporting: Concerns of Police Survivors National Law Enforcement Memorial Fund International Conference of Police Chaplains or, contact your local police agency to volunteer.
If you would like to help the Laboy family, you can drop off a donation at the Alexandria Police Department, 3600 Wheeler Avenue Alexandria, VA 22304 or send a donation to: Alexandria Police Association c/o Peter Laboy P.O. Box 1228 Alexandria, VA 22313
The Alexandria Police Association has also established a PayPal account for those who wish to give by debit or credit card.
Thanks to Jerusalem the Movie for allowing me to use their photo. They remain in sole control of its use. The movie is due for worldwide release in 2013. Visit their website, follow them on Twitter or Facebook, and be sure to see it when released!
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this article are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
I lost fear in the black belt when I began to know in my bones and sinews that I had been truly baptized into the Lord’s death and Resurrection, that in the only sense that really matters I am already dead, and my life is hid with Christ in God. – Jonathan Daniels
Jonathan Daniels was a graduate of the Virginia Military Institute. He went on to become an Episcopal seminarian at the Harvard Divinity School, and from there, became a martyr in the deep south on August 20, 1965. To learn more, click this image.
Jonathan Daniels was a white seminarian who felt called to help Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. with civil rights work in the Deep South. Shortly before his martyrdom, he penned the words above. In his work, he had stared down violent threats and intimidation. His freedom in Christ helped him love with great abandon. Indeed, he loved unto death.
On Friday, August 20, 1965, he was heading to a general store in Hayneville, Alabama to get drinks with three friends. A local man, Tom Coleman, met them as they approached. He threatened them and leveled his gun at seventeen-year-old Ruby Sales who was African American. Daniels pushed Sales down to the ground and caught the full blast of the discharge. He died a martyr living out Jesus’ teaching, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Martin Luther King, Jr. said Jonathan Daniel’s martyrdom was “one of the most heroic deeds of which I have heard in my entire ministry and career for civil rights.”
We might never be called to martyrdom, but we are called to love with abandon like Jonathan Daniels and so many of our Christian brothers and sisters before us. Ordinary people in so many ways, many of the greatest saints were quite fallible. Yet, they experienced the love of Christ in a way that changed them. They came to understand resurrection was not just an event only involving Christ in the distant past or one far in the future at the end of time. We can live a resurrected life starting now when we trust Jesus with our lives. It is that trust that frees us from sin, death, and the Devil. It frees us to love in miraculous ways, whether the world recognizes it or not.
I pray that as we approach another Easter, we don’t seek Christ in any old, dusty tomb. Let us seek him in our hearts and the relationships God leads us into. Find him in his holy word, studying it alone or with others. Encounter a foretaste of the feast to come in corporate worship at church or in the home. Serve the Risen Christ in the one’s he has entrusted to your care, perhaps even those whom you resent or whom are your enemies.
Yes, Jesus is risen. He is risen indeed! It is amidst our ordinary life and among our average neighbors that we will find him and begin to experience the new life he promises. He has gone ahead of us, waiting for us in our future. Do not be afraid. Rejoice, for “there you will see him,” much as the disciples were told in Matthew 28:7.
Christ’s peace to you, and happy Easter!
Pastor Lou
The above pastoral letter was originally published in Messiah Lutheran Church and School’s newsletter, The Messenger (March 2013 edition). To view the entire issue of The Messenger or to see the full calendar of events, visit: http://www.mlcas.org
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this article are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Every year as we approach Lent, I am surprised at how many comments I hear or read about indicating that “Lent is not biblical.” When I come across such comments, I bristle a bit. I feel disappointment and frustration, and yes, sometimes even some anger when the person is particularly snarky about it. Of course, it isn’t biblical! No one is claiming that the season of Lent is biblical. It is no more biblical than Christians arbitrarily deciding upon December 25th as a good day to remember Jesus’ birth is biblical – not in the strictest sense anyway.
Yet, I fear these folks are missing the forest for the trees. They are sadly missing an opportunity to be blessed. There is no specific call for Lent in the Bible (no one is arguing that), and still, isn’t it remarkable that the earliest Christians found designating such a season spiritually helpful? During these forty days (not counting Sundays which are remembered as days of Resurrection), special disciplines are encouraged as they serve to nurture faith in the individual even as they might serve to witness to our faith and grow Christ’s Church. This season…a season designated by the community of faith for the good of all and to honor God…was found to be a meaningful, beautiful time of preparation for Easter. So, it became a yearly practice and was given a suitable name. The season became known as Lent, an old English word meaning spring.
Yes as with spring, we may witness new growth and new life during Lent. This is what we hope for during these forty days, but we may prevail upon its disciplines at any time of year. Such disciplines don’t lead to a reward for our goodness. They aren’t something we do to become holy, for we cannot become holy by our own power. Instead, such practices become our opportunity to “live in Christ” – to live out our faith concretely nurturing our love for God and others and thereby offering us a chance dwell in God’s grace and love for us. It is for that reason that we find such disciplines commended in the Law and the Prophets, and even by Jesus himself.
The Psalms[1] are filled with such spring-like imagery as are the prophetic texts[2], and some of Jesus’ own parables[3]. Our life with God is always filled with bounty and blessing, often symbolized by natural things: the streams that refresh us; or the trees that serve as protection or a home for God’s beloved creatures. For the many disciplines of Lent – reflection upon one’s life and repentance, fasting, prayer, and most certainly almsgiving and acts of mercy – they can become like the tall cedars of our faith providing us a safe dwelling place in this world of trouble…a place of comfort and shade, strength and renewal. Amidst their many branches, God embraces us. God can even transform us. This Lenten invitation to take actions rooted in our faith in Christ serves only as a reminder of what Paul said in his letter to the Romans, “God’s kindness is meant to lead us to repentance.”[4] It leads us toward a deepening unity with Jesus, both his life and in his church.
Indeed as someone said recently, “Ashes don’t say we’re holy. They say we’re sinners.” They are to reflect the ongoing prayers of our hearts, “I’ll try to be better. I’ll do what Lent asks: more prayer, more sacrifice, more almsgiving.”[5] Western Christians whether Roman Catholic or Protestant desire to remember their total reliance upon God’s grace. “Remember you are dust, and unto dust you shall return,” we are told. This life is fleeting, sometimes dangerous, and we at our best are only sinner-saints.[6] We need the grace of Jesus Christ to help us make it through. The church as a community, as the body of Christ, commends these practices to us. Through them, we may be built up by God and encouraged to build up one another.
Using varied words throughout Christ’s diverse and universal Church, we hear as much during community worship on Ash Wednesday. For example, the Episcopal Book of Common prayer (not too unlike our Lutheran commendation to a holy Lent heard earlier tonight) rightly proclaims, “The first Christians observed with great devotion the days of our Lord’s passion and resurrection, and it became the custom of the Church to prepare for them by a season of penitence and fasting. This season of Lent provided a time in which converts to the faith were prepared for Holy Baptism. It was also a time when those who, because of notorious sins, had been separated from the body of the faithful were reconciled by penitence and forgiveness, and restored to the fellowship of the Church. Thereby, the whole congregation was put in mind of the message of pardon and absolution set forth in the Gospel of our Savior, and of the need which all Christians continually have to renew their repentance and faith.”[7]
So, we begin this season of Lent with ashes – a broken, struggling people – but also gathered together as one holy people of God. Our sin is systemic, shared and individual, but we are also chosen and loved. God plans for our redemption. In a time of trial for the nation of Israel, Joel commended these same types of behaviors.[8] By their apathetic faith, unholy alliances with powers of this world, and acts of selfishness and sin, the people of God were at risk in those days. They were weakened as a nation by such behaviors, and a terrible plague of locusts put them further at risk – at risk of invasion, starvation, and suffering. Joel hoped that by immediate repentance the advancing threat would be turned aside by God.
Well, hear the Good News! Thanks be to Jesus Christ, we need not just hope. Salvation is ours. Forgiveness is possible, and it isn’t too late. No matter who we are, what we have done or failed to do, the grace of Jesus Christ invites us into his loving arms. These are days not of gloom and doom but of growing light. They are days to be celebrated. Through Christ’s cross, the sin of all who trust in him has been redeemed. His cross previously an instrument of torture and death became for us a forgiving place of shade where we can invite our friends and neighbors to also find rest. Through our baptism, we are clothed in Christ, the finest of garments, given new life and a new family of God. This is much as Zachariah and other prophets have promised throughout the ages.[9] It is a new day, a final age where Jesus is coming back to complete his work, and we are invited. In our hearing, all God’s promises have been fulfilled in Jesus Christ.[10]
As unworthy as we all might be, we are still loved by Jesus! And since we are so loved – loved unto his own death, Jesus invites us to gather, remember, and experience new life: remember our need for God; remember our failings and all the ways we turn away from God; and not least of all, remember all the grace-filled ways Jesus reaches out to us, drawing us back.[11] We have this shared forty-day journey to re-experience Jesus’ parable of the vine and the branches.[12] In this season, we will bear fruit by intentionally striving to remain in the vine which is Jesus. We admit openly that without Jesus we can produce no fruit, and so we turn to him all the more and hold on in faith. We will seek intentionally to better love God and our neighbor. We desire that this dedication and fruitfulness will not fade after forty days but instead last a lifetime. It will be Jesus who will use this time to prune us and bring new life. His light will overcome our darkness, and it will shine more and more brightly.
This is our Lent, our springtime given us as a gift in the present even as we await the eternal Easter of our future. Lent is more than a season of time. It is a call to a way of life, Christ’s way. It goes well beyond the Bible even as it is rooted in it, because together on this journey, we have the opportunity to personally encounter anew the living Word of God, Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. Amen.
The above pastoral letter was originally published in Messiah Lutheran Church and School’s newsletter, The Messenger (June 2013 edition). To view the entire issue of The Messenger or to see the full calendar of events, visit: http://www.mlcas.org
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this article are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
“From silly devotions and fromsour-faced saints, good Lord, deliver us.” – St. Teresa of Ávila
Much too often, I come across people dreading Lent. Perhaps these folks might not like to remember that we are all sinners. Perhaps they feel threatened by the scriptural reminders of condemnation and death found in the texts so often used at our worship. They might be filled with dread as they overly focus on sacrifices and rituals. In doing so, we risk minimizing the power of Christ’s cross and resurrection; forgetting God’s grace reaching out to each of us. We tend to forget to live out and share our faith in daily life, and thus fail to fully experience the joy that it can bring to us and others today (not just in heaven). Lent in its Old English root means “spring,” and today, I have trouble viewing Lent as anything but a beautiful experience of growth and new life.
As I have shared with others, I become remarkably joyful during Lent. Even as I might confess my sins anew with ashes on my head, I can’t keep from smiling. You see, Lent was coincidentally the time of my rapproachement to the Church after many years away. Much like the prodigal son, I had spent my early adult years squandering the grace offered to me in my baptism. A difficult family life and things I saw as a police officer had hardened my heart against God and others. Eventually, I had come up empty. (No surprise there, I suppose.)
It was at this time of crisis – as Lent began in 1992 – faith-filled friends reminded me of the reality of God’s grace. With their loving witness, invitation and guidance, I discovered the compassion that God had for me all along. Much like Zaccheus in his tree, I became excited to hear Christ’s invitation to join with him in celebration within his Church. God was love indeed, and God could even love me! (This was indeed a great surprise to me at the time, for I had suspected wrongfully that my sins were too great even for Christ’s cross.)
Lent that year became a gift for me to be excitedly opened and treasured; a period of renewal and celebration. It was a joyful time of being embraced by Christ and by his Church. It proved to be my “re-conversion” experience, where I discovered the beauty of our baptismal promises and shared faith. It wasn’t a perfect time, and I still struggle with sin, but Jesus used this time of shared disciplines, fellowship, and service to restore me to wholeness. By Easter, I understood more about the Resurrection than I ever dreamed possible. I had begun to experience its reality in my own life. Thus affirmed, I trust I have much more to learn and experience in the years ahead.
Despite our sin and unworthiness, I don’t believe sour-faces or dread are necessarily very appropriate as we go about our Lent. Instead, I echo Paul proclaiming, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice!” For with Jesus, all things are possible – even our new life in him. I pray this Lent prove a time of “re-conversion” for us all and a very real celebration. I am sure God’s grace will surprise us once again. [1]
For even more Joy this Lent…
As I reentered the Church, I found listening to other people’s stories helped me on my own walk with Jesus. Both historic persons – biblical personas such as the Prodigal Son, or real people such as Zaccheus and later saints – as well as people around me became a testimony about the grace God offers us through a beautifully diverse “great cloud of witnesses.”[2] These people of faith speak to me, not of perfection, but of God’s grace at work in our everyday lives. They remain concrete signs of God’s love active in the world as we ourselves strive to love God and neighbor.
Even as Lent is meant to be a time of self-examination and repentance, it is also certainly a time of joy. Fun need not be outlawed. Therefore, I am very grateful to the two Episcopal priests who created the interactive fun known as Lent Madness, and I happily recommend it to you as part of your own Lenten devotions.
Lent Madness is basically 32 saints (those primarily included in liturgical commemorations by the Church) matched up in a tournament-like single elimination bracket. By participating in Lent Madness, you will likely learn and laugh, because the bloggers responsible also seek to reveal the sometime laughable nature of Christ’s saints – a nature we all share.
So, I strongly urge you join other saints of our time at the website daily. We’ll read about some very special, faithful people and have the chance to vote for our favorites. Jesus offers salvation to us all, but your vote helps determine who “wins” the Golden Halo.
[1] The above portion of this post was written for use in the Lenten reflections to be shared by FaithInRichmond.org during Lent 2013. It was published under the title, Surprised by God’s Love.
I know it might seem strange to post about Super Bowl commercials on what is usually a blog dealing with spiritual issues, but I saw three advertisements which had a distinct spiritual and community dynamic. These stood out for their positive messages and in two cases, explicit reference to spiritual life. Others are here as they raise interesting theological points for discussion. We often say that “God is everywhere,” so why shouldn’t theology and advertisement meet?
Surely, as many scholarly books attest, I understand that consumerism can negatively impact and shape our spiritual views. Spirituality and community life can become just another marketing ploy. The “perfect life” can prove a hollow idol created by advertising executives and leading us away from God and our neighbor. These are true risks in our world.
In addition, some churches have adapted a sales approach to mission and ministry; striving to entertain an audience while seeking to outdo the competitor congregations through fresh, sometimes extreme marketing. This sometimes creates a church which one observant friend described as “theologically a mile wide but only an inch deep.” Such faith communities tend not to be rooted in the past nor truly engaging the inner lives of participants in the present. They can become not much different than the local car lot offering a special drawing or showplace just trying to fill seats and maximize the take.
Still, I found these entries in the Super Bowl race for attention unique and worthy of mention. Perhaps they might seem hokey to some. Maybe the companies have some alternative, darker reasons behind the pitch. Conceivable, I can be making too much out of nothing. Yet when so many companies go for tasteless shock and awe, it was refreshing to watch these.
My Top 3 Super Bowl Ads for 2013:
1st Place – Ram: The Farmer
I appreciated that the video presentation seamlessly echoed the great Paul Harvey’s wonderful reflections on the often forgotten or underappreciated farmer. Having lived for a time in the mid-west, I remember well the hardworking individuals staying out all night in sub-zero weather to care for a calf. I saw them tend to their families, their fields, their animals, and their business with passion, dedication and love. I admired the magnificent images; many of them like artwork and showing the many facets of the people we call farmers. Subtly placed within the images are diverse people praying, hoping, and loving while trying to make a living. At the same time, they have the ability to make the world a better place. Indeed, the farmer shares a vocation in the purest sense. Their work is a call from God. Let’s pray that they succeed in nobley living up to that call.
2nd Place – The Jeep: Whole Again
In our small church community, we have had a number of people who have served in the military to include wartime. Some have suffered from post-traumatic stress decades after their experience, while others are younger and dealing with fresher but what will likely be long-lasting wounds. Fortunately, not all suffer in this way. Yet no matter their status, we have a very affirming community for our military veterans. Several military installations are nearby, and a number of our people in our community work in support of the military which defends us.
We read news items of deaths. We hear of injuries and disability. Instead of statistics, we see our family members, friends, comrades, and neighbors. We know families split apart for far too long of a time (and any length of time is too long, even if necessary). Through these shared experiences, we sense the validity of Martin Luther’s reflections on the military being a vocation, a sacred calling:
…In the same way, when I think of a soldier fulfilling his office by punishing the wicked, killing the wicked, and creating so much misery, it seems an un-Christian work completely contrary to Christian love. But when I think of how it protects the good and keeps and preserves wife and child, house and farm, property, and honor and peace, then I see how precious and godly this work is; and I observe that it amputates a leg or a hand, so that the whole body may not perish… (excerpted from Martin Luther’s Whether Soldiers Too Can Be Saved)
With the historic love affair between jeeps and the military, along with this tasteful presentation (even explicitly yet subtley mentioning prayer no less), their advertisement doesn’t come across as jingoistic to me. It speaks of yearning, servant leadership, and love. We are not whole until there is peace and our military can be with us once again. The wounds of wars and a fallen world run deep, but there is hope. We can remain in a loving communion as we wait upon the Lord to restore peace and wholeness to our lives and our world.
3rd Place – Budweiser : The Clydesdales – Brotherhood
This ad could have perhaps made Francis of Assissi feel verklempt. Although fictional, the love that can be shared between man and animal reminds me of the “pets” in my own life who teach me about laughter and love every day. These relationships are spiritual in nature. Genesis may indicate God shares his dominion over the world and all that’s in it with us, but we are not to be abusive lords. We are to be loving stewards, caring for creation and the lives within it. This tender commercial has touched the hearts of many. If only more people would look deeper to see how all creation points us toward the majestic love of our God.
Lastly, some may questions the use of a beer commercial on this blog, but recall that Martin Luther and his wife, Katie, made their own beer and even sold it to support their Reformation work. For the theological merits of making or imbibing alcohol, that must wait for another time.
Runner-Up:
Samsung Mobile USA: The Next Big Thing
Although snarky, this runner-up is mentioned not only for its humor, but how it reflects our all too common tendency to be “bent inward upon ourselves” (as Martin Luther used to say). Seth Rogan and Paul Rudd play themselves, called in to promote the next big thing from Samsung. They both assume they are being recruited as “the next big thing,” rising stars in a media culture. This flash point to humor reminds us of our shared Achilles heel, our hubris. It was, is and remains the source of our common Fall.
Questionable Mention:
Tide: No stain is sacred
Certainly, I could have picked many of the hyper-sexual, juvenile, or abusive ads seeking to attract attention through shock. Instead, I will only mention this Tide commercial. I get the humor in it, but it also gave me reason to pause. Many people fall in the trap of a simple, superstitious faith where they see images and find meaning in questionable things – an image of Jesus on toast or a taco for example. Yet, there are other images such as Our Lady of Guadalupe that are much harder to explain away.
Lutherans (and Protestants in general) become cautious when discussing the mixing of spirit and matter, the gift of something spiritual – grace – by means of physical things. We do so because human nature often leads us toward excess. We have a tendency to create idols and pay for relics. We begin to worship things of humanity or earth rather than God. Lutherans do believe God can use the physical bound to the Word through faith as a means of grace (as in our two Sacraments, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper), but we would reject the superstitious sightings of grace so often merged with transitory things.
Martin Luther often used humor himself to attack this tendency in the church of his time (a church made of very fallible people just like today). Yet while on one hand I see the humor of this modern ad, I fear it might make people laugh at faith as a whole in some manner. I don’t personally like to mock my neighbors who might find spiritual meaning in such things, even if I don’t. I never hesitate to speak openly of my concerns about such behaviors, but hopefully, we can do so out of love for our neighbor and show them respect.
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this article are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
Forty days after Christmas on February 2nd, Christians recall the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple. In a number of Christian denominations the season of Epiphany comes to an end. According to scripture, Mary and Joseph took the baby Jesus to the Temple in Jerusalem forty days after his birth to complete Mary’s ritual purification after childbirth and to perform the redemption of the firstborn in obedience to the Law of Moses (Leviticus 12, Exodus 13:12-15).
As Mary and Joseph were poor, Mary was relieved of offering a lamb and a dove for her offering. Instead, she was to “take two turtle-doves or two pigeons, one for a burnt-offering and the other for a sin-offering; and the priest shall make atonement on her behalf, and she shall be clean” (Leviticus 12:8).
Around the globe, Christians will likely remember these early events as reported in Luke 2: 22-40. In fact, it is one of the most ancient feasts of the Christian church. With the traditional end of Epiphany, many remove any remaining Christmas greenery from their homes. If you are visiting the Taize’ Community in France, you will likely see a cage with two doves or pigeons in their Church of Reconcilliation. After the service, the birds are released. As the story reflects the light of Christ breaking into the world, it remains a common practice at many services throughout the world to bless candles for use during the year. To this day, some countries share special meals during family celebrations (i.e. crepes in France, or tamales in Mexico).
Pennsylvania Dutch folklore attached an ancient, pagan European practice of weather prognostication to this day. If the groundhog sees its shadow, superstition indicates winter weather will continue for six more weeks. (In ancient Europe, one might have heard of a badger or sacred bear serving this purpose.) Yet, such beliefs weren’t only held in Germanic nations. In England, one old English poem exclaims:
If Candlemas be fair and bright,
Winter has another flight.
If Candlemas brings clouds and rain,
Winter will not come again.
No matter the weather, I hope you and your family will develop your own ways of recalling the Presentation of Jesus. It reminds us of the Holy Family’s piety, and our family’s call as well. It displays a family united by love, as our own should be. The feast most importantly can remind us of how that young male child redeemed on that day came to redeem us through his cross and resurrection. We really should celebrate!
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this article are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
Husband, Pastor, Law Enforcement Chaplain, and member of the Clerical Errors (aka "The Three Priests"), I'm sharing my two cents with anyone who cares...
You can also find me on social media as Loudluthrn (Lou-d-Luthrn or Lou the Lutheran). It is a moniker given me while attending a Presbyterian Seminary, but I'm a loud and proud Lutheran too (just not too loud and proud, mind you).
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