Sermon for the 14th Sunday after Pentecost

Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on August 21, 2016
Scripture text: Luke 13:10-17

Last Sunday was my last day as the youth pastor of St. John church in New Freedom. My final duty was to conduct their third and final summer evening worship service. We did a skit. We had a good time and I preached on 1 John chapter 4, one of the many passages of Scripture I regard as a favorite.

For those of you who’ve come to know me, it’s no surprise as to why. “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God...God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them....There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” All verses from 1 John 4. All about love.

Because ultimately (and this was the theme of my preaching last Sunday at SJNF), it is all about love. Time and time and time again we see this in the stories we read from throughout the Scriptures: God’s love for Israel and his intent to make of them a blessing for all the Earth, God’s love for individuals like David and Samson and Paul, the great paragons of the faith (all of whom were far from perfect people), and (of course) God’s love for us in Jesus Christ.

Today’s Gospel is no exception. Jesus is in the synagogue, as worship on the Sabbath. Also present is a woman with some manner of musculoskeletal disease, something like osteoporosis or scoliosis. Regardless, it has her nearly bent double, unable to stand up straight and causing her great suffering for many many years. Jesus, filled with compassion, goes to her and heals her. This makes the leader of the synagogue indignant. How dare he break the Sabbath law by healing this woman!

People of faith have a lot of rules. It doesn’t really matter what faith. Every religion carries with it a moral code. Muslims are to pray facing Mecca. Jews do not eat certain foods. Hindus elevate cows as sacred. Some of these rules seem silly to outsiders. We Christians have them too. Try explaining why we eat a tiny piece of bread and drink a sip of wine at every worship service. It matters to us. It’s huge to us, but to an outsider it doesn’t make a lot of sense.

The Sabbath rule is one of the most important in Jewish practice. One is not meant to work on the day of worship. But there is a rule, that for Jesus, trumps all other rules and that is the rule of love. The Sabbath day is important, but (as Jesus notes) it is not the end all and be all of one’s devotion to God nor is it always practical to obey. He uses the example of one rescuing their animal from falling in a hole as “work” that is both understandable and permissible during the Sabbath. And if one can rescue a beast of burden from dire peril, why can he not rescue this woman from her dire peril of this disease?

Luke does not record the thoughts of the leader that lead to his objection, but he does give us a hint by highlighting what Jesus says about her. This “daughter of Abraham” he calls her. She is your sister in the faith, Jesus says to the leader, and of far greater importance than your horse or ox or donkey. Would you truly rescue them but not her?

Luke records that the objectors are “put to shame,” as they should be. Treating a woman as less than a farm animal. But before we claim some moral high ground here, let us remember how well we’ve been doing as individuals and society at how we treat our neighbors.

Gay people are predators. Trans people are weirdos. Immigrants are rapists and job thieves. Blacks are thugs. Cops are racist. Time and time again we poison our discourse with these claims about the nature of people who are different from us. We treat our animals better than many of our fellow human beings. Should we not be put to shame as well?

One might argue that those stereotypes have their basis in fact and that’s true. Some cops are racist. Some gays are predators. Some have broken the rules of decency and propriety in our society. But to judge the whole by the actions of a scant few only widens the gap between us and our neighbors.

But which is more important? Those rules? Or love? That’s not always an easy question to answer. Some people are dangerous; yes, but are we willing to take that risk in order to love someone who is different? Are we going to bridge that gap between us because that’s what Jesus showed us how to do? Are we willing to embrace our brothers and sisters and recognize that, for whatever differences we may have, they are also still human like us; fearfully and wonderfully  made by our creator?

It is a risk. It is a gamble. It will feel uncomfortable, at least at first. I can speak from experience. I’ve had gay friends. I’ve had black friends. Asians, Latinos, men, women, young, old, people of every religion you can think of (or none at all). I’ve gotten around a bit in my short life. And I’ll admit there have been moments when I’m like “My goodness, we have nothing in common. My experiences are so different from yours. How are we even here? How did we end up friends?”

From SUNY.edu

I’ll tell you how. We loved each other. We cared about each other. We mattered to one another. But none of that could have happened if we hadn’t taken the chance on each other and found even the smallest of things that could bind us together.

Jesus took that chance with us. We humans have never been very good at keeping God’s rules, even the important ones. Why would he bother with us? But he did. He came to Earth to live, to show us his love, and then to die and rise again because of that love. All that effort because he believed that you and me and everyone else was worth the risk. Was worth the chance. Was worth loving.

I want to end with one verse from 1 John 4 that I neglected to list among the others in my quick summary at the beginning of this sermon. It’s one we’ve all heard and more than a few of us have sung in our Sunday School days. “In this is love, not that we loved God but that he (first) loved us.” That’s where it begins, with God’s love for us, the gift of his son. It ends with our salvation. What happens in between, that’s up to us. Amen.

Skit and Sermon for Summer Worship - August

Preached at St. John Lutheran Church on August 14, 2016
Scripture text: 1 John 4:7-21

Pastor's note: As the others, this service and sermon is also derived from the Youth Sunday materials from Cross The Sky ministries.

It is also my last official function as youth pastor of St. John Lutheran Church in New Freedom. My time with them has come to its end and I look forward to new ventures. I give thanks to God for these past three years and the service I was able to render at this congregation.

Skit - Frozen People.

A group of people stand in a group. Each one holds a sign that ID’s them as “geek,” “bully,” “homeless,” etc.

Geek: (holding phone) Man, where is that Pokemon? I know it’s around here somewhere.

Bully: (mockingly) Dude, really? What a nerd. Get out of here. You make me sick.

Geek walks away dejected and the stranger approaches the geek.

Stranger: (To Geek) Hello.

Geek, still dejected and depressed, doesn’t notice at first.

Stranger: Hello

Geek: (sadly) Oh, hi.

Stranger: What are you doing?

Geek: Oh, I was just looking for Pokemon on my phone, but…

Stranger: (interrupting) That’s cool.

Geek: (disbelieving) Really?

Stranger: Yeah, and that’s a cool shirt too.

Geek: (disbelieving) This old thing? Everyone makes fun of me for the way I dress.

Stranger: They shouldn’t. You’re a good guy.

Congregation/other cast: YOU CAN’T DO THAT. HE’S A GEEK.

Stranger: So? He’s my friend.

Geek and Stranger walk off stage together.

Homeless: (approaching bully) You got some change? Anything? I’m hungry.

Bully: (disgusted) Yuck. Look at you. You haven’t showered in days. You smell awful. Get away from me!

Homeless walks away dejected and the stranger returns, approaching the homeless.

Stranger: (To homeless) Hello.

Homeless, still dejected and depressed, doesn’t notice at first.

Stranger: Hello

Homeless: (sadly) Oh, hi.

Stranger: How are you doing?

Homeless: Not good. I’m hungry. I need something to eat.

Stranger fishes in his pocket for some money.

Stranger: (offering money) Here.

Homeless: (disbelieving) Really?

Stranger: Yeah, take it.

Homeless: You don’t think I’m going to take it for booze or drugs or something else?

Stranger: No, I trust you.

Congregation/other cast: YOU CAN’T DO THAT. HE’S HOMELESS.

Stranger: So? He’s my friend.

Homeless and Stranger walk off stage together.

Bully stands alone. He paces about impatiently, then sits down dejected.

Bully: I hate being alone.

The stranger approaches.

Stranger: Hey. You okay?

Bully: Not really. I’m all alone.

Stranger: You weren’t exactly nice to those other folk.

Bully: Why should I be? No one’s ever nice to me.

Stranger: I can be. You want to hang out?

Bully: (disbelieving) Really?

Stranger: Yeah, you want to get a snack or something?

Bully: You don’t think I’m a terrible person?

Stranger: No, I think you need a friend.

Congregation/other cast: YOU CAN’T DO THAT. HE’S A JERK.

Stranger: So? He’s my friend. (Bully and Stranger walk off stage together.)

Fin

Sermon

I find myself in an interesting place as I begin to speak tonight. Tonight’s worship service is my last official duty as the youth pastor of this church. As many of you know, my position has been eliminated due to budget issues, so this is my swan song. It is also conducted barely 24 hours after I have returned from a week at the ELCA’s national church assembly in New Orleans, so I am filled with all sorts of thoughts and reflections about what happened to me there. And so here we are, at the intersection of these two moments in my life, wondering what does it all mean?

Of course, that’s the question that is always before us. It’s why we come to church in the first place. It’s why we’re here tonight. Our lives are what they are. We come here to this place to make sense of them and to find a way forward. We come to prayer, the reading of Scripture, the sharing of Sacrament, to hear God’s take on our lives. What does he think about what we’re dealing with? What we’re doing? What does he want us to do now? What does it all mean?

The questions are complex, but their answers are not. Because it seems no what the specifics of our questions on this or any other night, we keep coming back to the same answer. It’s about love. It’s always about love.

How do I relate to people who are different from me? People like the geek or the homeless guy or the bully in our skit tonight? Love them.

How do I respond to people in my life who are ugly in spirit or alien in thought? Love them.

How do I something about the problems of our society? Or our world? You start by loving people.

How do I deal with racism or sexism or Islamophobia or homophobia in someone else? Show them the way of love. How do I deal with it within myself? Start loving those people you used to hate.

But you can’t do that, the world will want to tell you. They don’t deserve it. It’s not proper. Go and love them anyway.

But what if they laugh at me? What if people reject me? It’s a dangerous thing to love the wrong sort of folk. It can get you in trouble. Just look at Jesus. Loving the wrong sort got him nailed to a cross.

Yeah, it did. Love is dangerous. Jesus did it anyway. He knew what would happen. In fact, he counted on it. Because he loves us so much that he would do anything to be with us, even die on a cross.

(To each person) He did that for you. That’s how much he loves you.

Jesus dies because God would rather die than be without us. Now THAT’S love.

And that love is the root and the foundation of all that we do. Growing up, I was that nerd in the skit. I got picked on and tormented by bullies. On my own, I’m not going to love people like that. I can’t do it. But, because of Christ, I can and I will.

Jesus doesn’t care what the world thinks of you. Jesus doesn’t really care even what you think of you. He just loves you and he calls you to love others.  That’s where all our questions lead. It’s where we are in this moment no matter what experiences have brought us to this place tonight. We are loved by a God who gives everything to claim us as his own and we are sent to show that love to a world that needs it. It really is that simple. Amen.

Sermon for the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on August 14, 2016
Scripture text: Luke 12:49-56

“I have not come to bring peace, but division.”

I’m confused. Who are you and what have you done with the real Jesus? Jesus Christ, our savior, is all about peace. He brings the “peace that passes all understanding.” We, as his disciples, share God’s peace with one another in our liturgies. We work for peace in the world and between peoples. We are all about peace because we have believed that our Savior is also all about peace. And yet, here he tells us that peace is not what he brings, but more division.

Jesus is, however, a realist and we live in a world that does not WANT peace. At least not the kind that he brings. The peace the world wants is the peace of the tomb. It is the peace that comes when you have crushed all your enemies and seen them driven before you (Thank you, Conan.)

It is the peace that comes when evil is defeated at last, the bad guys are dead, and we, the heroes, get to ride off into the sunset. That is the kind of peace we want. That’s the kind of peace the world wants. The peace of being the last one standing upon a mountain of corpses.

Sounds extreme? Then explain why our world is always at war. Explain why there is violent crime in our cities. Explain why we have a Presidential candidate who is wondering why we can’t use our nuclear arsenal on our enemies? Explain why there are movements that say #BlackLivesMatter or #BlueLivesMatter? Because people are dying; more accurately, people are being killed because we have decided they are the enemy, they are thugs or pigs or monsters, and you know what we do to monsters. We slay them and slay them we have and slay them we will.

From the News-Gazette

The peace the world wants will come when there is no more blood left to spill. But the peace that God brings is different. It is the peace that comes from love, from embracing people, by welcoming people, by feeding people, by caring for people as God has cared for us.

Now that sounds great in theory. Wonderful even. But if you try to put it into practice, watch out! Embrace the enemy and see what happens. Welcome a “thug” into your life and see what happens. Care for a monster and watch what occurs. We’re meant to destroy them, not love them, and when we love them the world will retaliate against us.

I came not to bring peace, but division. You want to see that happen, love the wrong people.

It gets worse, because sometimes the worst hostility comes not from those outside in the world, steeped in its ways and completely in support of its culture of violence. Sometimes the worst hostility comes from people who should know better, those who know God best, people who claim the name of Christ.

I spent last week, as you know, at the Churchwide Assembly gathering in New Orleans, LA. An overarching unofficial theme throughout the week was God’s universal love and mercy for all creation. Again, easy and wonderful in theory. But, on Wednesday, when the preacher preached to us out of his experience as an African-American in the whitest church in America (Yes, if you didn’t know that, we are.) His words were challenging and inspiring in equal measure. As were others who spoke on the evils that we white Christians often do to our brothers and sisters of color or to people of alternate sexuality. Sometimes, we don’t mean to hurt others. Sometimes, we don’t realize it. But sometimes, we do mean it and we do realize it. But regardless, we can and have done evil to others. The sword of the Crusader and the rope of the lynching tree are not as deep in the dustbin of history as they should be.

The audio's a little wonky, but it's worth the listen.

If that truth makes you uncomfortable, you might be starting to understand what Jesus is talking about in our Gospel lesson today. We’re not the bad guys. We’re the good guys and how dare anyone tell us otherwise. How dare some pipsqueak preacher or Galilean carpenter call us the villains. Someone shut him up. Permanently, if possible.

I did not come to bring peace, but division. Want to see that in action? Call out your own kind, your own people, for the evils they have done, inadvertently or deliberately, to others. Call out your nation. Call out your friends. Call out your family. I dare you and watch what happens.

It gets worse still. If our own kind can be guilty of evil, then it follows that we ourselves as individuals can be guilty. This is the hardest challenge of all, when we must confront the darkness in our own hearts. To admit, to truly admit, the wrong we have done to others. Hurtful things we’ve said, behaviors that have harmed others, habits and vices that damage our relationships. Of these, we are guilty, and the battle within us can rage fiercely.

I did not come to bring peace, but division. Want to see that in action? Stare long at those skeletons in your personal closets and know that they are yours and only yours. No one else can be held to blame for them. It’s you who put them there. My skeletons are mine. I’m the one who made them. I can’t pretend they belong to someone else. They are mine!

You know, maybe we are the bad guys. And if we’re the bad guys, what happens when our enemies, steeped in the world’s idea of peace through superior firepower, decide to come after us?

Sobering thought. Fearful thought. And it is that fear that fuels the division. We fear the truth of who we are. We fear the truth of what we’ve done and we’re capable of doing. And we fear the truth of what can be done to us by others.

Jesus knew that fear well, because it was as real in his world and times as it is in ours. Two thousand years has not changed that. But Jesus came to bring a new way, a way of REAL peace, a peace based on love and not fear.

That love begins with you and me. It begins when Jesus comes to you and me and says, “I love you. I know everything you’ve done, all that ugliness, all that villainy. I know your guilt. Yeah, you screwed up. But I love you and forgive you. I died for you; that’s how much you mean to me. I went to that cross for you. Love others in this same way.”

So it goes forth from us to our own people. Our race, our family, our nation. No, let me show you another way. Let me show you how love works. Let me tell you about how much you mean to Jesus Christ. Let me tell you what he’s done for you and why. Let me say to you, “I love you and he loves you. He knows everything you’ve done, all that ugliness, all that villainy. He knows your guilt. Yeah, you screwed up. But He love you and forgive you. He died for you; that’s how much you mean to him. He went to that cross for you. Love others in this same way.”

And it goes forth from our own to others. To those different from us. Let us together show you another way. Let us show you how love works. Let us tell you how much you mean to Jesus Christ. Let us tell you what he’s done for all of you and why. Let us say “God loves you. He knows everything you’ve done, all that ugliness, all that villainy. He knows your guilt. Yeah, you screwed up. But He loves you and forgives you. He died for you; that’s how much you mean to him. He went to that cross for you. Love others in this same way.”

That, my friends, is real peace. It is our calling. It is our purpose. Go forth and love. Go forth and bring peace. Amen.

Sermon for the Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on August 7, 2016
Scripture text: Luke 12: 32-48

The Second Law of Thermodynamics in Physics states that the entropy (or level of disorder) in a system can only increase unless it is worked upon by an outside force. In other words, things, if left to themselves, will grow steadily more disordered until they fall apart completely. This is underlying basis of the idea of the heat death of the universe, where all things become so disordered that everything essentially ceases to exist.

From MDPI.com

To hear the supposed-experts, or even our own guts, tell it, there is a “second law” for society as well and it certainly seems to be in overdrive of late. The world is falling apart. Crime, disease, terrorism, bigotry, economic instability, Donald Trump running for President (or Hillary for that matter)! Everything’s falling apart. So much so that I’ve been seeing bumper stickers for the upcoming presidential election that say “Giant Meteor 2016: Just end it already.”

I suspect that the other 95% of the world’s population would not much appreciate this hunger for total destruction, but, joke or not, there is a real and growing sense of desperation in our society. Everything seems to be getting worse. Life is out of our control. And there is an appeal, particularly for people who believe as we do, for the world to end and for God’s plan to come into its fullness.

So let’s talk about that. Let’s talk about the end of the world. And, funnily enough, it happens to be the topic of today’s Gospel lesson.

Of course, a casual read of the text does not lend itself immediately to that conclusion with its talk of selling one’s possessions and not being afraid. What is more scary than the end of the world? Well, getting rid of absolutely everything you own might be up there. Jesus’ talk of building up treasures in heaven seems like a lot of idealistic fluff, nice in theory, but impossible in practice. But then the tone shifts and Jesus begins to speak as if in parable about a household of slaves with a soon-to-be-returning master.

Be dressed for action. Be alert. Be ready. Jesus says. His call is for diligence. But what does that mean exactly? How can one be ready for the return of the Son of Man?

The metaphor goes deeper than you know. What is the duty of a house slave? Well, to take care of the household. They clean. They cook. They keep things in order. They are slaves. They have nothing of their own. Their whole life is dedicated to that house. To that place and to the people who live within it.

And that is what Jesus calls us to be: slaves for his house. Slaves for his world. To care for that place and for the people who live within it. To be diligent in our service to them.

Martin Luther is famously quoted that if he knew the world would end tomorrow, he’d plant a tree today. That’s the attitude of a diligent house slave. My job is to take care of this place and its people. Me, in many ways, I don’t matter. This calling to which I am dedicated is all that matters. So it is with all slaves of the Master.

When the Son of Man returns, he’s not eager to see us so paralyzed with fear and selfishness that the work of the household has not been done. That’s the danger of worrying so much about ourselves, which is precisely why Jesus begins his remarks in this text the way he does. His call for courage and for divestment from our worldly cares is meant to remind us that he is our master and that he will take care of us. With that freedom, we can then care for his own.

A funny thing happens when we start doing the things God has called us to do. When you feed the hungry, clothe the naked, care for the sick, bring justice to the voiceless, all those scary things in society start to go away. Crime, terrorism, much of these things are born of fear; the fear of abandonment, the fear of desperation. But if people know we are there for them, that we will take care of them, the servants of the Master will serve them in whatever way they truly need, that fear evaporates. As I said at the beginning, the second law of thermodynamics states that disorder increases unless an outside force works upon it. We can be that outside force for our world and bring calm in the midst of chaos.

The trick is to not be afraid ourselves. To remember our calling as the caretakers of this place and its people. That’s how we serve the Master. And it’s how we diligently await his return. But in that remembering, we must also remember what our Master does for us.

Jesus says something very curious in the middle of this passage and it’s an important reminder of how this whole thing works. He starts, as I said, with encouragement: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” But a few sentences later, he shows us what that looks like. “Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; for truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them.”

We take care of God’s world and his people and God takes care of us. He gives us the kingdom. What a crazy image that is where the Master serves the servants. But that’s what God does. That’s what Christ came to Earth to do. “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve...” God is not some tyrant who sits on high and passes down edicts that we’re to obey without example. Incarnate in Christ, he lives out the life of a slave, caring for others, taking care of people. Doing himself what he’s asked us to do. He gives everything for the sake of those he serves.

It is not coincidence that, in the end, Christ dies the slave’s death on the cross. He truly does give everything, dying as he lived, in service of others. That is who he calls us to be.

In conclusion, I want to end with a portion of the lyrics from the Michael Card song “The Basin and the Towel.” Today’s text is, of course, not the only place in the Scriptures where Jesus demonstrates his call for us to be slaves for his world. One of the most powerful is in that Upper Room on “the night when he was betrayed.”

Amen.

Sermon for the Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on July 24. 2016
Scripture text: Luke 11:1-13

A lot of folks, perhaps many of you as well, have spent this week watching the RNC from Cleveland. The big pageantry of a national political convention only happens once every four years when the parties come together to nominate a presidential candidate, so everyone’s always enthralled by the spectacle of it all.

From New York Magazine

An unwritten purpose of these get-togethers is unity. That was certainly true this week with the Republicans and will also be true this coming week with the Democrats. Both parties have come through a contentious primary season, but it’s time for things to come together to prepare for the national election in November. Whether they were or will be successful in this endeavor, I’ll leave to more knowledgeable minds. But the idea of unity has been on my mind. What does that mean exactly?

The dictionary definition of the word unity is “the state of being united or joined as a whole,” which isn’t all that helpful because it begs the question of what does mean to be united or joined. The reason I’m diving into all this is because, at least in practice, the idea of unity seems to be “agreement in all things.”

And yet that’s never the case. One of the other things that pops up in these election cycles are these little quizzes and surveys on the internet. Who am I most like? Which politician running for office reflects my beliefs best? You take the quiz and you find out you’re 76% aligned with Ted Cruz or you’re 87% aligned with Bernie Sanders or whatever. But I’ve never seen anyone take such a survey and come out “I’m 100% aligned with anyone.” So not only do these disparate folks running for the party nominations not agree with one another, neither do their supporters align fully with them as well. “Agreement in all things” never happens. Politics is personal and we rarely find that anyone out there fully lines up with our own personal beliefs.

You know what else is personal like that? Religion. And much the same story could be told about our relationship with the Church. The ELCA is a church denomination that has doctrines and dogmas, social statements and theological stances, all of which I can virtually guarantee that no one sitting in the pews agrees with 100%. I don’t and I’m even a pastor of that church.

And then, of course, there are all the different denominations of the Church, which all have disagreements with one another. Sitting at Amy’s funeral, listening to Pastor Josh give his sermon, there were these moments when I was “Yep, that’s spot on” but also “Nope, that’s not how it works.” He said a lot of good things, but I didn’t agree with everything. And that’s to be expected. He’s a Baptist and I’m a Lutheran. If he were here to critique my sermons, he’d undoubtedly be the same way. The church does not agree on all things.

Worship? Well, there’s a far cry between the hand-waving slain-in-the-spirit rowdiness of a Pentecostal revival and the smells-and-bells high pageantry of a Vatican mass. The Bible? Well, we all use different translations and certainly different interpretations. Social issues? Don’t get me started. Some condemn gays, others welcome them. We’re all over the map on just about everything.

What brings us together? The easy children’s-sermon answer is Jesus, but even that’s not as simple as it appears. Even the Bible gives us four different pictures of who he is.

But there is one thing that all churches do. It’s the one practice on which we all agree, the one thing we all do together. And it was a gift from our Savior. We all, all of us, pray the Lord’s Prayer. On that, we are united.

And it’s a good thing onto which to be united. For it does not just unite us with one another, it unites us with the God we serve. The Lord’s Prayer, in addition to being a prayer, is also a mission statement, a dedication of purpose. Here is what God is going to do and we, as his followers, are called to help him do it.

Our Father in heaven. Your name is holy. Your kingdom will come into this world. Your will will be done in this world. All will have all that they need. Our sins will be erased and we in turn will seek to erase the sins of others via forgiveness. All will be protected from evil and temptation to do evil.

That’s our faith in a nutshell. There it is. It’s what we come here for each week to receive, reassurance that these things are true. It’s what we go forth into the world to give to it. This is what God is doing. Rejoice and be glad.

Jesus’ parable that serves as an explanation of the prayer in our Gospel text today is a good one. Friends care and love one another. Friends help one another, sometimes even when it isn’t convenient. How much more then will God, who loves each of us beyond words, do for us and for all? God’s mission is to do good for his creation, for his people, as a loving father would.

Luther makes the point in his explanation of the prayer in his Small Catechism that God’s going to do all these things regardless, but we pray because we want to be a part of it. His mission becomes our mission. The love of the father becomes our love for others and for ourselves.

I spoke last week about the importance of why. Mary chooses to understand why while Martha rushes about in purposeless busyness. The Lord’s Prayer is our why. Here it is. Why are we here? Because God is holy and bringing his kingdom into the world. Why do we do what we do? Because we’re making that kingdom real for the people of the world, by providing where there is need and forgiving where there is wrong. This is what we do. This is why we are here.

It’s what all Christians strive towards. Each one of us is in a different place in our faith journey. Some more mature and wiser than others and that’s okay. But we all have the same goal: to see that kingdom come to pass. And given the world we live in and the things that have happened of late (both in the grander scheme and the personal within these very walls), the hunger for that is all the stronger.

The kingdom IS coming. God’s will WILL BE done. All will be provided and cared for. Tears will be dried. The hungry given food. The sick their cure. And all will be loved. I want that world, that kingdom. And I know you do too. So does every Christian everywhere. And so does our God. Amen.

Churchwide Assembly Final Day

TGIF, right?

Well, not really. Today is my last day here at CWA. My flight home takes off bright and early tomorrow morning, meaning I get to miss the final plenaries on Saturday. So this will be my last CWA submission (until 3 years from now, I hope.)

Since I showered last night after returning from Bourbon Street (I had to wash off that experience. Just kidding; it was just really hot and humid last night with the rain and heat), I got out of the room early and managed to make it to the CWA early.  But they’re running late. (Apparently, there’s still trouble with the buses from the influx of Grace Gathering folks.)

If that’s the worst problem we get this week (and it has been a smooth week for the most part), we’re in good shape. My compliments to the planning committee for doing such an excellent job dealing with the logistics of this massive conference.

Despite my goofy grin, I am completely sober in this picture. Just showing off some Hokie pride.

Opening devotions threatens to lull me to sleep, which is not a criticism. It was so peaceful. We sang the beautiful Chinese hymn “Golden Breaks the Dawn.” I feel like I’m transported into “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,” held in the hands of God yet surrounded by the beauty of the Chinese landscape. The power of music at work. A perfect beginning.

And now we hit the ground running. The first item of business is the change to the lay roster. I’ve been hearing scuttlebutt since the hearings that this was rather fervently discussed. But apparently, people got that out of their system because the floor debate now is quite muted. One person speaking for the change. One person requesting further information. And the question is now called. The first part of the change passes with flying color. So they are now all deacons.

There is however a second piece to this, which requires a constitutional change. One of the ripple effects of these changes is the removal of the phrase “ordained” for pastors like myself (We will now be “ministers of Word and Sacrament”) from the constitution. I can see this being a hot button issue. And it seems I’m wrong again. No one went to a mic, so the vote was immediate. Another overwhelming pass.

Hashing out the business of the ELCA

The next item is a perfunctory vote to approve some editorial changes to the constitution. A quick vote with no debate. Pass.

Curse you, ulcerative colitis! I had to dash to the rest room, so I ended up missing the votes on the Israeli-Palestinian memorial from the other day. It passed without amendment (i.e. the hotly debated amendment from the other day failed.)

Next item is a memorial to lift up the contributions of African-descent Lutherans, to battle racism, and to recommit the church towards diversity. A quick parliamentary change starts off discussion; someone has moved that we close debate after 4 people have stood up to speak in a row on one side of an issue. It passes, so that ought to accelerate our conversations. A quick amendment to ensure womanist (i.e. feminists of color) theologians are added to the teachings of seminary is proposed and passed. The amended memorial passes.

Next is a memorial regarding our nation’s foreign policy, dedicating our church to peace and diplomacy, and to urge members of this church to encourage their elected representatives to the same. An amendment is proposed to expand this beyond simply the 2016 election cycle to a three year period and to create a task force on finding ways to minister those most affected by our recent wars. Given what I hear on nearly every Sunday in our prayers, this is a good amendment. An amendment of the amendment is then proposed, scaling back this change somewhat and removing the task force. I hope this fails and it does by the closest vote yet. So back to the original amendment. A motion to postpone is now brought up so we can have time to further consider the full implication of what we’re proposing (specifically in terms of funding.) Postponement passes by another close vote, so we’ll be coming back to this later.

Some of you reading may think I’m nuts, but I actually love this stuff. Although I’ll even admit it can be easy to get lost in all the parliamentary layers.

Next is a memorial regarding welcoming refugees. An amendment is immediately proposed to open up our facilities and buildings to do that welcoming. The amendment passes and the amended memorial now comes to a vote. It passes.

Bp. Eaton calls the orders of the day, so we’re moving on from memorials to the next item. That means a Starbucks run.

I return as Reference and Council begins their presentation. That means more voting. First resolution is to encourage anti-racism training via the synods to its members. Having had such training, I know the value of it, so I’m in favor of this (and would likely take advantage of further training if offered.) Orders of the day are called before debate finishes so we can do our VP candidate speeches.

And we break for worship, lunch, and Bible study. I’m planning to skip to see if I can complete my shopping plans. Since I’m planning to only go next door to the Riverwalk Outlets, I may not have to miss everything.

Best laid plans and all that. Since this is my last day, I’m going to have to turn in some items before the end of the day, namely my rented iPad and charger. I left the charger back at the room, so I dashed back to the hotel. And since I did that, I figured I’d just wander back into the French Quarter again to get my last two gifts.

I got back in record time, but with a new problem. Between the rain and the 90+% humidity here, I was drenched by the time I returned. I remember a detective TV show from a few years ago where the cops were investigating crimes related to a porno website that peeped in on young women in an apartment. Those women were instructed to shower three or more times a day so the Peeping Toms could get their fix. I feel a bit like that (not the peeping part, although I did see more than my fair share unavoidably on Bourbon Street last night), but the showering multiple times a day. Yeah, that’s a weird memory to use as a metaphor, but most of you, my dear readers, know what an oddball I can be. (Enter into my abnormal train of thought at your peril.)

I couldn't resist this joke.

Anyway, I had to shower and change clothes AGAIN making it the third time I’ve had to take two showers in a 24 hour period. But I still made it back to the Assembly in time for lunch. So I didn’t miss nearly as much of the proceedings today as I feared I might. So I ate lunch (More jambalaya. Yum!) I spoke again with Bp. Riegel, who is looking for me to speak to the fossil fuels memorial when it comes up later. I will probably do so.

And then I found a bench and promptly fell asleep. By the time I woke up, I had missed the Bible Study and much of the keynote address. So much for not missing things. That’s the second embarrassing thing I’ve admitted to today after my bathroom rush that made me miss a vote earlier; third, I suppose, if you count my oddball illustration about showering so much.

Alright, I fell asleep. That means I got some rest, so I refuse to allow that gift (however cursed) to go to waste. I returned to this same laptop on which I’ve been recording these thoughts to write that second sermon I needed to finish this week. And whammo! It’s done.

My final plenary session began with what I hope will be the final vote for VP. William Horne has been elected to the position of Vice President.

We moved from their to updates to our Constitution, Bylaws, and Continuing Resolutions. The first was to update the previously attempted 10% inclusion of people of color in our membership, since we did not make that goal in the allotted time period. What passed in its place is an ongoing effort towards diversity with accountability to the Churchwide office. Most of the remaining changes were accepted en bloc.

After an onerous debate over a point of order in the requirement for youth attendees (we literally wasted 20 minutes of time over something that would not change anything regardless of whether the vote was yes or no), we’re back to Reference and Counsel and the anti-racism training resolution. A bit of technical difficulty with the voting machines has us using colored cards now to vote. The anti-racism resolution passes. The next resolution is about creating a strategy to work towards diversity in the ELCA. Seeing as this is in line with so much of what we’ve been doing throughout this week, I’m hoping this passes quickly. It does, going to Church Council for implementation. Third item is a resolution about appropriate use of water. A pastor from Minneapolis gets up to speak in support of this with a cute gimmick of having collected water from three different points along the Mississippi (beginning to end), but I don’t expect there’ll be much opposition to this resolution. And there isn’t. It passes easily.

Now, Motion D, which is on gender identity, opening up options for LGBTQ persons in our church, specifically Ts & Qs (i.e. transgender, genderqueer, and other gender non-conforming people.) We’ve already made much progress in this area, so I hope this passes easily and it does.

Reference and Council yields to the Memorial committee after an effort to extend the plenary session fails. The fossil fuel memorial comes first. The original amendment fails (which would have divested our investments from fossil fuel companies), but a new amendment with similar language comes forward. I rose to speak, but the question was called before I could offer my opinion. The new amendment is adopted. But orders of the day is called before a final vote can happen, so that pretty much ends my active participation in the Churchwide Assembly.

A fine banquet meal concluded our evening and I headed back to the hotel to pack. This time tomorrow, I will be comfortably back in York county after an incredible experience. See y'all soon.

Churchwide Assembly Day Four

Today began with more rain.

Rainy Day on Canal Street

In some ways, that’s a good metaphor. We look at rain sometimes as an ill omen and seems fitting. It was a good thing I took an easy night last night, because my health issues hit me. I’ve mentioned before my UC and while I don’t think I’m in another major flare, I did have an “episode” last evening that kept me up until 1:30am. I’m tired and we’re just getting started. At least my blisters are mostly healed. Staying off my feet has done well for them.

My health wasn’t the only misfortune for the morning. Today is the opening day of the Grace Gathering, which is happening concurrently with the Assembly. It seems the bus company running our shuttles were unprepared for the influx of extra people this morning, so despite my getting in line for the shuttle 15 minutes earlier today, I was 30 minutes late to the session.

So I arrived midway through the questioning of the remaining seven VP candidates. Since we’re getting down to the last few, we’re getting into the details of how these individuals will lead and perform their duties. I had been supporting one candidate (Tom Madden from Upstate NY on the advice of my trusted LSS colleagues), but from these questions and answers, I’m considering some other options now.

I’m eager for a quiet morning and it looks like I’ll have that. The bulk of this morning’s agenda is focused on the Presiding Bishop’s report and the VP election, not on the remaining memorials that took up so much time and energy yesterday. This afternoon is our workshop time, where I will do some further anti-racism dialogue (presumably) by attending “From Doctrine of Discover to #BlackLivesMatter.”

I’m looking forward to a vigorous discussion this afternoon and then an evening on the town. That, and a Café au Lait, are energizing me for the day.

Bp. Eaton’s report followed the Q&A. She hit some of the highlights of the work the ELCA has done over the last three years, many of which we’ve already covered in this Assembly. She highlighted in particularly the work of the ecumenical commission on the Declaration. (Yeah, I’m harping on that again.) She also spoke about the fact that we have, as a church, had to confront racism in the world and in our own ranks. I like this Bishop and I am thankful for her leadership. She reiterated what Sec. Boerger said yesterday that “we are all the ELCA.”

She also, jokingly, said that there are some in our church who so respect the name of the Lord that they never speak it. (That’s a riff on our lack of evangelism, FYI.) We need to be better about sharing, proclaiming, and showing Christ to the world. (My Canadochly folks know this is an emphasis of mine also.) She also reminded us that people of color in the worldwide Lutheran church outnumber white Europeans, and yet we struggle with diversity here in the American church. She said that we are to reread and rededicate ourselves to the Small Catechism for our anniversary. (Yet another emphasis of mine, although not so evident in my current call. I want Lutherans to understand what it means to be Lutheran.) She reminds us that we’re also not doing this on our own. We are all the ELCA, we have partnerships with other Christian faiths (Six Full Communion partners), and relationship with Lutherans across the world through the LWF.

Bishop Eaton concluded her remarks, I took a brief break, and I returned to the Assembly to hear the personal testimony of an Arab man from the Middle East who now serves as pastor in the ELCA. Presumably, he’s the beneficiary of ELCA scholarship. Ah, he’s introduced himself as the new Director for the ELCA Fund for Leaders (which is one, if not our largest, scholarship program for seminarians.) He is encouraging us to continue our generosity to aid more leaders in the future.

Following is the Churchwide report, looking at new mission starts, new congregations, new ministries, the work of World Hunger, etc. The report is a mix of video and personal testimony (I guessing now our friend from the Fund for Leaders was an earlier part of this overall report, but I missed the beginning due to my restroom break.)

The third ballot of the VP election followed. Down to seven names, I cast my vote using the electronic voting machine provided. These should facilitate some quicker results than the previous two ballots which were cumbersome in size (That’s not a critique. Ecclesiastical ballots just work that way.) We got a video from the MIF as we waited for results. No election at this time, and neither candidate that I’ve supported will move on. So time to do some rethinking and prayer.

Break time and then to worship, lunch, and the workshop. Given my weariness from last night, I decided to do something different for my worship time. I visited the prayer chapel and offered up prayers for all of you, for my family and friends, for thanksgiving for this experience here at CWA. I also prayed about the circumstances of my life and a remembrance that all is in God’s hand.

This is for a certain someone in my congregation. From the prayer wall.

An icon of Christ healing the sick.

I ate my lunch and then headed to my workshop. The new expansion for my Hearthstone game launched today, so I was downloading it while I was heading to the workshop, eager to play a quick game on my phone before the workshop began. I was so enraptured in my phone that I almost missed the gentleman who was going to start off our conversations this afternoon.

Surprise!

Yes, that is the Rev. Jesse Jackson, who began our workshop with about 20 minutes of remarks about how #BlackLivesMatter is simply a continuation of the historic work for civil rights leading back to even before MLK. I'd never heard him speak before but I was enthralled. He encouraged us to encourage young people to vote. I love one anecdote he shared with us.

"Reverend, when is it preaching or when is it politics?"

"I don't know. I thought they were the same thing."

So often they are. We pray by doing.

I headed back to the hotel for a meeting with my fellow LSS delegates. I had a great conversation with Moses and Titus, two African-Americans from our group who had also been in the #BlackLivesMatter workshop. We shared our thoughts and reflections. I long ago learned the best way to connect with someone who is different from you is to listen to them. I did a lot of listening today.

After that, I beat feet for the French Quarter again. I returned to the same cafe as Monday and had another excellent meal. If you're ever in NOLA, check out Cafe Mospero on Decatur Street. You'll be glad you did.

A couple of beautiful views down Royal Street

I did some shopping and then headed over to the truly infamous Bourbon Street. Whatever you've heard about the place is nothing compared to actually being there. It makes South Street in Philly look like a nunnery.

As a Lutheran, I was kind of partial to this place: The Saints & Sinners Bar

I returned to the room and I'm going to rest. Tomorrow will be busy with much business in the Assembly and a few more items to be bought for my friends and family back home.

Churchwide Assembly Day Three

Another great day in the Crescent City.

A pre-worship selfie

Before I get into today’s events, I’d like to speak (as promised) about last night. As I indicated, I did head back to the Assembly for dinner and the hearing on the Declaration on the Way.

The hearing proved to be the best moment of the Assembly for me so far. It was great to see so many Roman Catholics and Lutherans excited and eager to narrow the gaps between our churches. What I found particularly inspiring were the remarks from the floor by a pastor from the Lutheran Church in Germany, who commended the American churches for being ahead of the curve on these issues. He hopes to take the Declaration back to Germany with him and use it as a model for their own ecumenical work. I found that very encouraging.

After returning to the hotel, I went to the Pelican Bar for dessert and to watch the Olympics (Go Michael Phelps! 21 Golds.) I ran into Bp. Matt Riegel again and we had a drink together. We talked about our experiences at our Synod Assemblies. A good time was had by all.

After 15 years of ministry, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by this, but I’m always astounded by the respect and affection of people who I respect as mentors and admire as leaders of the church. Between the time I spent yesterday with Dr. Wengert and Matt, I saw this numerous times and I always find it humbling. These people want to know how I’m doing, they want to know my thoughts, they respect my expertise and experience. There’s a part of me that still feels like the wet-behind-the-ears student at seminary, who didn’t even know enough to ask the right questions. I have to remind myself sometimes that it has, in fact, been 15 years since I was ordained as a pastor of this church and that I do know what I am doing and people recognize that. I’ve been very blessed to learn at the feet of “giants” of our church and it’s quite something to have that human and affectionate connection with these people.

On to today. We began with a presentation from the Chaplain Corps of our Armed Forces. We then moved to our first elections. The second ecclesiastical ballot for the VP was completed. We also received our ballots for all the other officers of the ELCA.

And then on to Memorials. (Things are moving apace already this morning. I can’t skip out today like I did yesterday.) The first memorial was on the divestment from fossil fuels. There was an effort to postpone this debate until after we hear from the LWF, which is in favor of this memorial. Having come from a state (and living in one now) that depends heavily on fossil fuels for jobs and a decent economy, I’m not keen on this memorial. I’m all against global warming and environmental destruction, but technologically and sociologically we’re not ready for such a bold step. This strikes me as premature and eliminates our voice in efforts to guide the industry towards better alternatives. I want to vote now, not later. But the motion did pass, so we’ll be talking about this again later.

The next memorial is to address our relationship with historically black churches and to strengthen our relationships with them. This one is a no-brainer to me and easy to support. It passed with flying colors. (99% voted yes.)

Discussion on the Black church memorial

Following is a memorial regarding justice in the Holy Land, seeking to compel our government (and that of Israel and Palestine) to find a way forward for peace, justice, and an independent Palestinian state. This is going to be a hot one. Immediately, an effort to amend the motion hits the floor, particularly over the issue of whether our government should threaten to withdraw its military support for Israel if they do not comply. (I am against using this cudgel as I find it politically unrealistic in our current climate. No government official in Washington will ever move to cut off military aid to Israel.) Debate was vigorous. I find it frustrating, since people keep blurring the line between discussion of the amendment and the whole memorial. I like Bp. Eaton, but she’s not keeping the Assembly disciplined on this. But it is definitely not boring today. Debate dragged on so long that Bp. Eaton called orders of the day without any resolution on either the amendment or the original motion.

So I then went to get coffee and some breakfast.

The morning plenary wrapped up with more introductions and greetings from various churchwide ministries. We moved from there to worship, where Pr. James Phillips, an African-American Lutheran from Washington D.C., preached. He preached a powerful sermon on the resurrection story from Mark, saying that for too long the church and our nation have been “stuck in the graveyard,” where there is no hope and no expectation of change. We are a resurrection people, yet for so many plagued by poverty, racism, and fear, we are stuck on Good Friday. When are we going to start living like a resurrection people? Powerful stuff, proclaimed in the characteristically animated African-American preaching style; he had people on their feet more than once.

Liturgical dance at worship today

I was nearly frozen to death in the course of these proceedings, since the convention hall air condition was working overtime. So I took off after lunch to return to the hotel to change clothes and then returned for our afternoon plenary. We began with singing “My Life Flows on in Endless Song,” which we sang as our recessional hymn at Canadochly on Sunday (A nice call back to home for me.)

No election so far in the VP election, so we’re to move to ballot three tomorrow. The head of the LWF, Martin Junge, then brought greetings to the assembly. Following thereafter were greetings from our sister church in Canada via Bishop Johnson of the ELCIC. And following thereafter were greetings from the Lutheran colleges and universities.

Apparently, for three such colleges and universities, the CWA acts as their highest governing body. So we get to vote on their Boards of Regents and a few other matters. Strikes me as a bit inefficient and unnecessary, but then again, I didn’t found nor do I run these institutions. So far, the votes seem perfunctory. Another time sink; I am eager to move on to the Declaration of the Way, which is next in the agenda.

The seminary presidents were introduced. Each seminary had an acclamation from the assembly, undoubtedly from their graduates among the clergy. I did my best to hold my LTSP banner high amidst all these Gettysburg scum (said with love. I am, of course, just teasing my colleagues, something not always clear in a written medium.) Following that are still more greetings from our ecumenical partner churches. Neat to learn that we are sharing NOLA with the National Baptists, who are also holding their national assembly here this week.

And that all gives us our segue into the discussion (and vote) on the Declaration. It’s clear the spirit of moment is that we WANT to vote FOR this memorial and we want to vote NOW. No discussion. No debate. We moved immediately to the vote, ran into some technical difficulties (Maybe we overloaded the poor voting system?), but I am pleased to say it passed overwhelmingly: 931-9. Woohoo! A historic moment and I got to be a part of it. When I was doing LARC (Lutheran-Anglican-Roman Catholic) dialogues in WV Synod, we had prayed for times like these and one has come. God be praised!

I headed out for a coffee break, recognizing that I have two more hours here in this session. I returned in time to hear the discussion on the AMMPARO strategy beginning. AMMPARO is the ELCA’s proposed outreach and advocacy for migrant children. “Amparo” in Spanish means “to accompany” which is a fitting name for the initiative, as we seek to accompany and walk alongside migrant, immigrant, and refugee (which many undocumented immigrants actually are) children coming to our country. The list of people speaking in favor of this memorial is lengthy and encouraging. I didn’t hear a single person speak against this memorial, in fact, and unsurprisingly it passed overwhelmingly. We are God’s church and we stand with his marginalized children.

And now, the budget conversation begins! If you love number-crunching, this is great time for the assembly. I don’t, so pray for me (although my enthusiasm for the last two actions of this assembly will carry me far.) Thankfully, it passed with little discussion.

Following and concluding our time this afternoon were greetings from our Inter-religious partners from the Jewish and Muslim faiths. Together, we affirmed our opposition to religious bigotry, standing together as the three great faiths of “the book” against hatred in general and hatred based on religion (or lack thereof) specifically. We also celebrated the many things we have in common, including our shared regrets over our history with (and often against) one another. This is another area of great import for me. In seminary, I was pleased and blessed to be involved in more than one inter-religious dialogue with the Jewish people, the legacy of one of my mentors. This time, a pastor from my youth named Jim Hanson.

What a great day. I get a free evening and I’m pretty tired. (I did manage to get one sermon finished. One to go.) I’ll probably head to Popeyes for dinner (something simple. I know, I know, fake Cajun in NOLA is almost blasphemous, but I’m not keen on doing anything more complicated) and then play some Hearthstone in my hotel room. Quiet night to end a crazy, but fulfilling day.

Rain on the streets of NOLA

Churchwide Assembly Day Two

Every city has its own poetry. I awoke to the sound of a horn, the horn of a freighter sailing down the Mississippi. This sort of thing is what I love about visiting or living in a city. Each one is different. Each one is unique. Each one has its own loveliness.

My alarm clock this morning.

 Of course, exploring some of that loveliness yesterday left me with a cursed gift: those blisters I mentioned last night. They’ve healed somewhat overnight, but they’re still there. Strangely enough, there is a small blessing in those annoying little sores on my feet. This Assembly, like most every synod assembly or church conference, tends to pack the schedule as tight and full as possible. One really has to learn to say “no” from time to time, just for your own mental and physical health. Those blisters are a reminder that I am not invulnerable nor immortal. I need to pace myself.

Last year, for instance, I attended the triannual ELCA Youth Gathering in Detroit, right smack dab in the middle of recovering from a major flare of my Ulcerative Colitis. I had to say no to participating in the Gathering for one full day and then another afternoon simply to recover my strength. Right now, at this year’s Assembly, I’m taking advantage of the “Please rise, as you are able” rubric in worship. I counting myself “not able” for the time being, giving my hurting feet further time to heal.

Perhaps I’ll take some time for myself later as well. I haven’t decided yet. And no, I won’t be running off to the French Quarter again. I do want to get back there to buy some novelties I saw yesterday as gifts, but today is not the day for that. Today would be a day of healing and recovering.

I am thankful that the organizers of the Assembly have recognized this need. The shuttle buses run all day; so if I were to choose to return to the hotel for whatever reason, I can do that. There is a prayer chapel set up for one’s spiritual self-care. People wander in and out of the Assembly area all throughout the day, going to Starbucks, visiting the vendors, and gathering with friends or strangers for conversation. The hopeful expectation is that you attend everything, but it’s okay if you can’t or don’t.

But, on to the business of the CWA! We began this morning with brief worship (where I did stay seated) and then moved into the first plenary of the day. Now we’re getting into more interesting business than last night; specifically, elections. The report of the first ecclesiastical ballot for VP has been given and well over 100 names have been submitted with no winner as yet. We’re also discussing the election of officials to the national Church Council and other offices.

The report of retiring vice president Carlos Pena followed. I met Carlos some years ago at a Synod Assembly (I cannot remember if it was in WV or PA). He explained his retirement was due to the blessing of many grandchildren, so I suspect he’s sincere in the cliché of “spending more time with his family.” He will be missed after his 12 years of dedicated service.

That's Carlos on the right of the screen, with my friend Jennifer beside him.

Carlos reviewed the recommendations of the Church Council before this Assembly, which are items upon which we’ll be voting later. Of particular interest is the new ecumenical agreement with the Roman church, called “Declaration of the Way.” It outlines 32 doctrinal points on which we are in full agreement with our Roman brethren. A good and appropriate step of unity with the RC church on the eve of the 500^th anniversary of the Reformation.

Carlos continued with that theme in talking about his work with the World Council of Churches for the last ten years, representing the ELCA for us. Again, he will be missed and much thanks for his work for this church.

Carlos was then honored for his service, with his family welcomed to join him on stage.

The next agenda item is further discussion of the “Declaration on the Way.” The leaders of the task force were introduced, including Bishop Mark Hanson (Bp. Eaton’s predecessor as presiding bishop) and Bishop Denis Madden, the auxiliary bishop of Boston for the Romans. Bp. Hanson announced that Pope Francis himself will be present and participating in the LWF’s inaugural celebration of the coming anniversary in Sweden. What a historic moment.

Both Bishops introduced the task force members and Bishop Madden (I had a laugh as the bylines on the big screens twice misidentified Bp. Madden) spoke to the process of putting together the Declaration. It was built on the work of Vatican II, running with the idea that council declared that there is already a “real but imperfect communion” between us. It is my prayer, and I suspect that of the task force and all the ELCA, that we now find that communion somewhat less imperfect than it was before.

Reading (and hearing) the points of the Declaration, I am reminded of the Augsburg Confession. While this document does not carry the weight of that historic confession, it is worded in a similar way. Also, as my history reminds me, the AC was meant to be a declaration of faith just as this is. This is what we believe! Now, with the declaration, we have a document that says “this is what we believe together.”

As that conversation concluded, the budget for the ELCA was introduced. Time for a bathroom and coffee break. (I got jumped by a giant cockroach while in the rest room. Yuck!) Ran into Dr. Lathrop again at the coffee break. Always good to see him.

One of the things I noted about the budget conversation was the change from $47 million some years ago to $43 million now. The crunch is being felt at all levels, folks.

Following was further monologue (and I use that term intentionally) about the change to the lay roster. My one frustration with the Assembly thus far is that we keep talking about doing this or voting on that, but we’ve barely taken any votes thus far. Constant explanation and rationalization for why Church Council did this or that thing. How many times do we have to hash over this stuff before we can vote? It gets repetitive, redundant, and annoying. It’s a long way from being efficient. Cut all that stuff out and we could have some more breathing room in the schedule.

It gets worse. Now they’re pitching tonight’s hearings where we’ll talk about these things EVEN more. Ack! I get the feeling they’re treating all of us as coming into these proceedings blind, despite the fact that the pre-assembly reports have been available online for months and many of us (if not most) have read them extensively.

After greetings from Augsburg Fortress and some brief announcements, plenary session #2 comes to an end. Pleased to hear that Dr. Wengert is leading our Bible Study later.

While taking a break before lunch, the lethargy of these proceedings is starting to weigh on me. I’m beginning to feel my comments earlier about self-care were somewhat prophetic. I looked at the agenda for this afternoon and it’s more of the same. Introduction to…, Greetings from…, but no votes. Just talk.

I think I’ll stick around for lunch and the Bible Study (can’t miss that) and then take the rest of afternoon off. Seems a good time to do it since I doubt I’ll miss much. I’ll return for dinner and the evening sessions (maybe, since that’s also “more talk.”)

I won’t be completely idle in that time. I do have set aside time to write two sermons for this coming Sunday. I’m also eager to read in full the book I’ve received on the “Declaration of the Way.” I should probably check to see if there’s a “hearing” on that tonight. That would be worth my time.

There is! Alright, I have a plan. Lunch at noon. Bible Study at 1pm. Break at the hotel to work/read. Dinner at 6pm. Hearing on the Declaration at 7pm.

So, we come together again for Bible Study. The text of the study is Mark 1:14-15 and it will be tied to two of Martin Luther’s 95 Theses (#1 & #62 to be specific). Verse 15 is seen as a perfect summary of Jesus’ whole mission and purpose. The time is fulfilled means “the jig is up,” the moment of reckoning has come. The kingdom has come and all has changed; the word of God is working upon us now.  It has done its work. It has made us HIS! We belong to God, and repentance and belief are the result of that. It’s not our doing, but his work upon us. “Repent” is like going off a cliff and commanding yourself to fall. Of course, you’ll fall, just as the adopted child of God will repent and believe almost by default. It’s a given.

Dr. Wengert

 Penitence, as Luther states in Thesis 1, is again something that God does to us throughout our lives. We never escape sin on our own; we cannot. God’s work upon us is what brings about faith and repentance. This is the Gospel. This is Christ.

Wow. That was precisely what I expected and what I hoped for. I miss that sort of teaching and I wish I could do likewise in my own work. For added bonus to that experience, I got to stand in on a brief conversation between Dr. Wengert and Bp. Riegel, both of whom I regard as giants of Lutheran scholarship as they discussed one of the memorials before the Assembly. Knock that off my bucket list as well.

I’m back at the hotel again for my break. I’ll post this shortly. I’ll probably postpone any further updates today to tomorrow, so expect my thoughts on tonight’s hearing on “The Way” with tomorrow’s post.