Amy Delph of Messiah Lutheran goes Over the Edge for Special Olympics Virginia.
For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways.
On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone. (Psalm 91)
As our Virginia Synod team, “Fools for Christ,” prepared to rappel down 25 stories as part of Over the Edge for Special Olympics Virginia, there was indeed noticeable anxiety. One heard some nervous gallows humor about last words and breaking ropes. People pointed to those they blamed for getting them into this mess. Some people ascended to the roof top only to think better of it when looking at the edge separating them from the cold, hard ground below.
It isn’t unusual or foolish to feel fear at such moments, as fear is ultimately a God-given survival mechanism. Yet, some overcame their fear trusting in a greater purpose. Even for those who turned back, there was no shame. They had made the attempt. We all recognized our fear and vulnerability, and it created a comradery on that roof top; a sense of community. People sought to support each other with their prayers and kind words of encouragement in success or defeat – much like any church should do.
Yet for those of us who believe, it struck me that there was even greater comfort to be found. The certainty of God’s promises. When Jesus faced temptation on the pinnacle of the Temple, he thought of such comfort too.[i] He quoted Psalm 91 in the face of the Devil. It was the words he clung to for encouragement and safety.
Jesus understood his Father in Heaven and the heavenly host remained on guard. He could trust God as his dwelling place, and nothing could truly harm him. No fear need stop him from his mission. It is the same with our lives as we face whatever highs or lows, blessings or curses that might come. God is with us. God intends to protect those who love him and know his name. These are God’s promises, “When they call to me, I will answer them; I will be with them in trouble, I will rescue them and honor them. With long life I will satisfy them, and show them my salvation” (emphases added). We can go over the edge into our future with confidence.
Yes, fortunately for us, God never lies. We need not let fear dictate our choices or behaviors. Failure need not define us. We are the beloved children of God together. Whether barely making it on a wing and a prayer, finding ourselves out on a limb, or hanging by a thread (or perhaps even a rope 400 feet above Cary Street), we are not alone for we have one another to turn to. Perhaps better still, God and the Heavenly Host is not only ready to catch us if we fall but has plans to lift us up to new life no matter what happens.
This month, we can rightly give thanks to God even if we feel at the end of our rope. God is with us, and God will never let us go.
“The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.” (Matthew 9:37)
As we approach another Lenten season, I see barren farm fields around us. In the midst of winter, they don’t look like much. They are tired and seem spent. Yet with the right amount of gifts from God (water and nutrients) as well as care from the farmer (tilling, planting, weeding, etc.), these same fields will become abundant signs of life as we enter spring.
This is much as our Lent should be. We intentionally cooperate with the grace of God to promote and nurture life and love in the world. Following chosen disciplines and special worship or by making extra efforts of charity and service, we tend to the plot of land God has given us. We till and plant (reflecting on our lives, confessing our sin, and turning with expectation toward God’s promises). We weed (repent) and grow (renew). This sacred process is not just for us but also for our neighbor as we seek to share the love and grace we ourselves receive.
Yes, as we enter Lent, we return once again to the mission fields. We seek to reconnect to Christ and one another. What will you do to cooperate with God’s grace and nurture new life? Certainly, Jesus offers us his love freely, and so we could just watch and wait for spiritual growth. Yet as good farmers know, seeds of faith grow better with intentional love rather than lukewarm care.
Grace abounds, but Jesus invites all of us to roll up our sleeves and grow with God this Lent. Come join Jesus in the fields before us and witness the miracles God can do through your life and love.
Christ’s peace,
Pastor Lou
This post was originally published in Messiah Lutheran Church and School’s newsletter, The Messenger (February 2015).
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this article are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
A cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones. (Proverbs 17:22)
I have been called many things in my life, but this past month I was called a clown. To be more precise, I was called to be a clown as part of our Vacation Bible School. Through skit and song, crafts and games, I was blessed to share a journey with forty youth and almost as many adults into deeper friendship with God and one another.
I find that relationships are most easily formed through joyful encounters and positive attitudes, and it isn’t much different for our relationship with Christ and his church. Our happy fellowship, laughter, and even a caring smile can serve as a witness to our faith and help sustain others, but I believe it also serves to encourage us in our work and shape our own futures.
What kind of joy is this? I am talking about much more than a positive attitude (although that helps). In fact, it ultimately isn’t about us at all. Trusting that no matter what happens we will always be cared for by Christ frees us to smile, to laugh, to risk relationship and love no matter the cost. We can be rejected, and yet our healthy self-esteem can continue unharmed because we are loved by God. We can seem to fail in our efforts and yet not worry; we share in Christ’s victory. Even as we struggle with sin or illness or tears, or anything else one can think of, we can trust with Julian of Norwich, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” God will use whatever happens for our good.
“Faith is a living, daring confidence in God’s grace, so sure and certain that a man could stake his life on it a thousand times,” declared Martin Luther. Yes, faith is God’s punch line to our world’s fallen reality. Faith surprises and empowers us. Even amidst difficulties or tears, it manifests itself through the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. It keeps us going in the face of great obstacles, and in answer to death, it births an abundant life.
Long ago, Francis of Assisi and his followers encountered Christ’s love in their midst through active fellowship, service and worship together. This radical communal lifestyle raised the eyebrows of many who called them “Fools for Christ,” yet that way of life brought Francis, his friends and those they served an abundance of joy – not sour, pious faces, rigorous religiosity, or burdensome obligations. Perhaps, they had the last laugh by adopting the name meant to deride them.
That is the kind of clown I hope I can be…that I believe Christ intends us to be together as church. Please help us together discover the gift of such joy this fall as we celebrate 45 years of ministry at Messiah. No kidding, it might just change the world.
May Christ’s peace and joy always reign in your life,
Pastor Lou
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this article are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
The following is a short sermon I preached to my congregation at Messiah Lutheran Church and School, on the Third Sunday of Advent, often called Gaudete (Rejoice) Sunday. Although our preschool students and elementary-agers were present to perform a joyous Christmas musical, the death and sadness of the last week, especially in Newtown, CT, could not be ignored.
As our last hymn [O come, O come, Emmanuel] reminds us[i], the Advent season is a time of waiting and expectation. The song is much like many others among our Advent hymns and even some of our more traditional Christmas carols. Many project a sense of sadness and longing. They can prove almost melancholy. Our hymn writers and liturgists – just like us – know the imperfections and pain of this world, and so we look toward Christ to deliver us. Our music, images, and prayers can reflect that sense of loss, waiting and hope. Being a Christian, I heard someone once say, is like being a person separated from their greatest love; something is missing, and not quite right. We hunger and thirst for that love to be one with us again, so that our lives can feel whole.
This week, we have been unhappily reminded of that truth. We lost our assistant to the bishop, Pastor “Chip” Gunsten, a dear friend of mine and many here at Messiah as well as throughout our synod, who died suddenly while undergoing treatment for cancer. We are not the only ones mourning, for our Catholic brothers and sisters lost their former beloved bishop, Walter Sullivan on the same day. He was someone I knew well, and he proved influential to my own discernment of service within the church. Our Presbyterian friends in Virginia lost one of their own leaders as well, Cynthia Bolboch, Moderator of the 219th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) on December 12th. Having many Presbyterian friends after attending a Presbyterian seminary, I shared in their own grief and sadness. As the week closed, I was tired and worn down from dealing with death and the many emotions that always accompany it. Then, we received the horrific, numbing news of Newtown, CT. People thousands of miles away shared in that community’s dread and grief and fearfully held their own loved ones closer.
How can we make sense of such things? I’m not sure that we can. Oh, as a Christian, I trust that God can use them – turn them on their head and make all things work for our good. I know blessings and signs of love can be found even amidst tragedy – perhaps especially at times of tragedy – through the heroes and servants shining in those times of darkness, or through the love that is shared with us to help us make it through. Yet, maybe we are never supposed to make sense of these things at all. It isn’t within our capabilities to make sense of the nonsensicle. The issues can be too involved for us to handle or beyond us. Maybe they just can’t ever make sense, because they are counter to what God wants for us. God’s will is to save us for a future full of hope, not to condemn us to an eternity of woe[ii]. God’s plan from the time of Adam and Eve was to redeem and save us out of love.[iii]
These sufferings are symptoms of that earlier wound. They are parts of our life as a fallen, imperfect people in a fallen, imperfect world. People sin. People suffer. People die. Uncontrollable evil and sadness do exist. Perhaps instead of looking back for answers as to why things happened, we should look forward. Our time is better spent in the face of such evil asking, “What would you have us do, Lord?”
Certainly, God never abandons us to this sorrow. God has a purpose and a plan which includes us. Jesus was sent into our world as a little child to share our life and lot; even our suffering unto death. God doesn’t rejoice at our destruction, but rather wants us to live abundantly through his only son.[iv] Jesus would become God’s final word on evil, sin and death. They have been defeated through his cross and resurrection, and we are saved here and now. Yet, sin and death are enjoying their final death throws at our expense. Jesus declares we are free from their power; saved even as we and creation might groan at times.[v]
In this present age, Jesus promises to come again to complete the work which he started and banish sin and death forever. There will be a new heaven and earth where suffering will be no more.[vi] In the meantime amidst our lingering troubles, he asks us to look up and be ready, not as a sullen or defeated people, but as his beloved people. Be ready, he says, so that our hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, so that the day doesn’t catch us unexpectedly, like a trap.[vii]
No, we who are saved have a purposeful, divine work to do. We are left here – called to this time and this place – as his messengers speaking his words of love, healing and forgiveness; words so sorely needed in this wounded, combative world. Like the law and the prophets before him including John the Baptizer[viii], Jesus taught us what we need to do – love God with all we are and our neighbors as ourselves.[ix]
Today both despite our suffering and because of it, we are to speak these words and embody them. God uses us with all our weakness and imperfection to give them form and substance, flesh and bone, to make them real. We are echoes of Jesus crossing all the earth shouting, “Do not be afraid! Jesus has come! He is risen and will come again!” We are called to lovingly and boldly put these words into actions together as church…Christ’s church…his body…his hands reaching out and touching broken lives through our own.[x]
Today, we have also heard words that Paul spoke to Christians in Philippi when they were persecuted, broken and felt alone. These same words were shared with us yesterday at Pastor Gunsten’s funeral. Perhaps it is providential that the lectionary had them as one of our assigned texts considering recent events:
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4: 4-7)
Rightly, Jesus is called Emmanuel, God with Us. We need not get stuck in our fear, hurt or anger. Look up! Raise your head! Do not be afraid! These are the words Jesus speaks to us in the face of our most unimaginable threats or losses. When the world and its realities rage, when struck by great sorrow, or when we cannot find reconciliation with others we so deeply long for, Jesus speaks to us as he did similarly to that storm long ago, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”[xi]
This world can be a frightful, sad and lonely place, but we need not grieve as people without faith.[xii] We need not live as a people without love.[xiii] Despite any of our doubts, Christ’s peace and love are with us always[xiv], and we have a shared ministry to do in his holy name.[xv] His light is in our midst and shining through our hearts, and the darkness shall not overcome it.[xvi] Remember always that we are baptized – claimed and called, to be Christ and to serve Christ in the world.[xvii] We must never try to hide ourselves from the pain of this life and thus not truly live.[xviii]
We are Christ’s church, together with Jesus and thus never alone. He has come for us and will come again. Our longing will be vindicated. This truth is rightly celebrated at every moment and forever, but especially during Advent. We celebrate it this morning through our young people attending Messiah Lutheran School who have come to proclaim the story of Christ’s birth with us anew today.[xix] Amen.
Readings for the Third Sunday of Advent – December 16, 2012
Zephaniah 3:14-20
Isaiah 12:2-6
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:7-18
[i] “O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel, that mourns in lonely exile here until the Son of God appear. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to you, O Israel. (Evangelical Lutheran Worship, Hymn 257, verse 1)
[xiv] In Mother Teresa and Brother Roger’s book called Seeking the Heart of God (1993), Brother Roger writes: “Four hundred years after Christ, a believer names Augustine lived in North Africa. He had experienced misfortunes, the death of his loved one. One day he was able to say to Christ: ‘Light of my heart, do not let me darkness speak to me.’ In his trials, St. Augustine realized that the presence of the Risen Christ had never left him; it was the light in the midst of his darkness.”
[xvii] At times of fear or doubt, Martin Luther is said to have reminded himself, “I am baptized”; a reminder that he was Christ’s called, claimed and sent child. His writings also indicate that we act as Jesus in the world, but also encounter Jesus in the least of these, those suffering and alone. Through their lives Jesus cries out to us for compassion.
I love history. It doesn’t matter if it is church or secular history, about peacemakers or warriors, I always seem to learn something helpful for my modern life when I look back in time. Beyond the many books I read and the movies and television shows I watch (often to my wife’s chagrin), I even enjoy those quick notes found in the “This Day in History” articles of my local newspaper. So sometimes (just for fun), I will look toward history when a significant day in my life occurs. For example, I was born on December 10. On that day in 1520, Martin Luther burned the papal bull (edict) demanding he recant from his critique of the Roman Catholic Church or be excommunicated. This would have been a death sentence back in his day. On June 1, the first written record of Scotch whiskey appears in the Exchequer Rolls of Scotland, certainly a day of celebration. Ironically, it also serves as the anniversary of another wonderful celebration for me – the day I married my wife. (Cheers to that!) On October 28, 2007, the congregation of Messiah Lutheran Church voted to call me as pastor. It was Reformation Sunday. (The Reformation actually began on October 31, 1517 when Luther posted his 95 Theses, but our denomination tends to recognize the anniversary on the Sunday before that date when October 31 isn’t itself a Sunday.) Now to be clear, I don’t plan events based upon historic dates. I enjoy looking backward after the fact; just to see if I learn any fun tidbit or maybe even something helpful. So by now, you get the idea. I am a bit of a nerd when it comes to history. I confess it to you freely.
Consequently, you probably won’t be too surprised to learn that I looked toward history after opening this blog on January 14, 2011. (Hopefully, my decision to write a blog will not become a day to live on in infamy.) In our denomination, we have days where we commemorate special witnesses to God’s love at work in our midst. We recall the Christian lives and witness of fellow saints. These saints aren’t perfect, for no human ever was, is, or can be perfect. As Luther pointed out, we are at best sinner-saints, truly saved but in constant need of our Savior’s grace. I often find people listed who I hadn’t previously known; at least not well. This was such an occasion, for by looking at our liturgical calendar, I made the acquaintance of Eivind Josef Berggrav (1884-1959), deceased Primate of the Church of Norway. Examining the life of Bishop Berggrav, we find the classic case of the right person being at the right place at the right time. Although special in many ways by most accounts, he perhaps wouldn’t have been more than a footnote to history if he hadn’t been the presiding bishop in Norway at the time of the Nazi occupation.
Personally, I found Bishop Berggrav interesting on several levels. First, he was a man of courage; a courage that appears to stem from his simple trust in God. Despite the threat of execution, his imprisonment in isolation, and the darkness of the times surrounding him, he remained prophetic in word and deed. He did his best to do what he felt called to do by God. He strived to act in love rather than react out of fear. This admirable quality was nurtured by his interaction with and his understanding of the catholic church (read “universal church,” note the small “c”). Despite differences in theologies, Berggrav believed there was only one church, and we should all strive together to answer Christ’s call to be the reflection of his light in a dark world. Like Nobel winner Nathan Söderblom after World War I, Berggrav believed that doctrinal agreement wasn’t crucial for Christians to live out this shared call. From his prior work to unify the church, his ecumenical contacts became an inspiration and support for him during World War II. The Confessing Church in Germany served as a model for his own leadership and action when the Nazi supported government attempted to take over the Church of Norway. Messages of support and news of public prayer on his behalf at Canterbury and other places helped sustain him during his imprisonment. Even in Norway, this attitude of openness and acceptance helped draw religious minorities (such as independent pietistic Lutheran churches and Roman Catholics) closer together in opposition of the fascist regime. Despite the oppression and challenges he faced, he learned to trust that he was never alone.
According to D.M. Yeager, he apparently was blessed with a charism of grace. Humble in his own self-assessment as sinner-saint, Berggrav tried to find the good in others. This was partly shaped by his past prison ministry. While not being blind to the realities of who he dealt with, he saw in them ordinary, fallible people where the goodness of God was still at work. In relating with others, people recognized his knack to be a compassionate, empathetic, bridge builder. After first taking on the role of bishop, he wrote in a letter, “My first objectives is to find something good,partly because I know there is always some good everywhere, and partly because I have to feel kindly toward a group before I can speak any words of admonition to them.”[i] Yet, such relationships were not to be maintained if they enabled or encouraged evil. When it was clear that the occupation government was committing atrocities and would not be true to its promises, he took actions against it.
Despite the personal costs, Bishop Berggrav found he had a Christian duty to disobey. He began to lead the institution of the church in its peaceful resistance. The church would seek to become a protective barrier between the illegitimate government and the citizenry. On Easter Sunday 1942, all but 64 of the 861 pastors of the Church of Norway read at worship The Foundation of the Church, a document primarily prepared by Berggrav explicitly stating that “the requirements of religious faith now made it impossible for Christians to cooperate with many of the laws and policies of the civil authorities.”[ii] The pastors then resigned simultaneously from the state church. Congregants responded as well, sheltering the pastors and refusing to participate in the state church. Reminiscent of the two kingdoms theology of Luther, he recognized that both church and state had parts in God’s ultimate plan. So while he argued that the church’s opposition should be and must remain peaceful, he remained a realist. He believed that when a government began to perform as a murderer, citizens must act in the government’s stead to protect themselves and fulfill God’s call for justice. Thus, some may indeed be called to take up arms for that purpose. This armed opposition isn’t purely political, nor is it to be self-serving. Violence is only entered into for the purpose of restoring a proper, just government, protecting the defenseless, and for calling others to repentance. Reconciliation must remain the goal.
There is much, much more to be said about Eivind Josef Berggrav, more than I could ever say here. For those interested in learning more, I would commend to you D.M. Yeager’s article, God, Church, and Country: Berggrav’s Leadership in the Norwegian Resistance in the Journal of Lutheran Ethics (available through elca.org). As for me, I recognize a bit better how his life has somehow touched my own through the communion of saints. I will be challenged to live up to his legacy as I think of him. For certainly all of us will face opposition in this fallen, imperfect world. Recalling of Baggrav’s own response in troubled times, we might be encouraged to look for the good in our enemies and to seek reconciliation where possible. We might find the courage to apply our faith as best we can to the troubles of our day. In all things, maintaining a simple trust in the eternal providence of God, we might see past our own immediate fears or suffering to realize that we just might be the right people at the right time and right place, sent by God, for these troubled days that surround us. We could even find ourselves inspired enough in our daily lives to risk acting in love no matter the cost. With such grace active in our lives, the course of history will certainly change for the better. Each day will prove historic and a blessing.
[i] Yeager, D.M. God, Church, and Country: Berggrav’s Leadership in the Norwegian Resistance. Journal of Lutheran Ethics, Vol. 6, Issue 5 [on-line edition via elca.org]. May 2006.
[ii] Yeager (on-line, ¶42) As noted by the author, the figures are according to a work by Odd Godal. In some documents, the number of pastors reported as resigning varies slightly.
Bibliography
Anonymous. (n.d.) Eivind Berggrav. Wikipedia.org as downloaded on January 15, 2011.
Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. Evangelical Lutheran Worship: Pew Edition. Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress.
Yeager, D.M. God, Church, and Country: Berggrav’s Leadership in the Norwegian Resistance. Journal of Lutheran Ethics, Vol. 6, Issue 5 [on-line edition via elca.org]. May 2006.
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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