Perhaps 'Doubting Thomas' wasn't doubting atall...

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!

Peace be with you!

Christ is Risen! He is Risen indeed!

Wait… Some of you may be sitting there thinking… wait… we said this last week. We already celebrated Easter. The stone has already been rolled away. We’ve heard the Good News. We sang that song. The Easter Bunny and Easter Beagle have laid their eggs. The Submarine Christians are back at home, waiting to surface again at Christmas. We ate the ham. We had the family gatherings. Easter is done.

         Nope. Easter has only just begun, and Spring is finally here. Yes, it’s cold, wet and rainy and Northern Minnesota has a freshly fallen layer of snow, but we’re here. In this sanctuary, we’re here, celebrating the resurrected Christ. Hallelujah! For some of us, it’s been too long since we’ve been able to say that. Hallelujah! Some of you may be doubting that we are still celebrating Easter. Some of you may be doubting that Spring will ever come. Doubt. It’s a strong word.

          Poor Thomas. How could he have known; how could he have experienced? The Risen Christ walks into the room with ten of the eleven, through a locked door and says, “Peace be with you.” He shows them His wounds, and gives them the power of the Holy Spirit. Thomas walks in later, missing out on the whole experience. The Mary’s saw the empty tomb. The other disciples saw Christ and His wounds. Thomas wanted that experience too. Thomas wanted to experience the Risen Christ.

          Do you ever do that? Do you ever walk into a situation, after a really good story was told, and you want to know what the story was, but once told, it doesn’t have the same magic? Did you ever want to see a great movie, but by the time you get to, everyone else has seen it and no one wants to talk about it anymore? I still haven’t seen The Desolation of Smaug…

          But even though everyone else has heard the story and seen the movie, you still want to know what happens. That desire is still ever present in your mind. Doubting Thomas was not doubting at all. Thomas wanted to experience the Risen Christ, and that’s it. He wanted a piece of the pie too.

"Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe."

We all have our doubts, our reservations. We look before leaping. When we buy something, we generally know what we’re buying before we actually buy it. We do the research, read the reviews, and heed the warnings. We test drive cars before we buy them (if they drive), and we watch trailers before we spend the million dollars to watch the movie in the theatre. This is called prudence.

 This is a wholly necessary practice to do. We need to be cautious in making decisions. When we take on huge responsibilities, we have to do our research first. As much as I’d love to wear that stole and have my own parish in the middle of nowhere, I can’t. I need the education and the experiences of seminary before I can go out there and finally live out my vocation. There are times that we need this due diligence for our own good.

When we don’t do the due diligence and think situations through, problems arise, and are sometimes fatal. In the early 1970’s, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration developed the Space Shuttle program. The early prototype that was used for test flights was named Enterprise, after Star Trek fans petitioned NASA to name the first space shuttle after the USS Enterprise. However, this Enterprise was not to become the first orbiting space shuttle, but another test vehicle was outfitted to be a second orbital vehicle after the first orbiting space shuttle, Columbia. This second space shuttle was known as Challenger. After nine successful missions into space, the tenth mission on January 28, 1986 was to be Challenger’s last. Seventy-three seconds after lifting off the ground, Challenger exploded, killing all seven astronauts aboard.

After investigating the cause of the tragic accident, investigators discovered that a faulty O-Ring was what caused the explosion. This faulty O-Ring was brought to the attention of NASA before the mission, but in a meeting held before the mission went underway, the issue of the faulty O-Ring was dismissed. You see, in this meeting when the faulty O-Ring was discussed, members of the meeting slowly agreed with each other that it was a problem that could be overlooked. There’s a phenomenon in communication known as Groupthink, when members of a group start to agree with each other too quickly, and issues are overlooked. Decisions are made without dwelling on them long enough, and the group starts to dysfunction by over functioning. Where was Thomas in the group meeting discussing the O-Ring?

Where was Thomas when the United States decided to enter a war with Iraq based on false intelligence and whispers of the infamous Weapons of Mass Destruction? Where was Thomas when the United States decided to deregulate the banks, slowly throwing us into the global recession that we’re only just now getting ourselves out of? Where was Thomas asking, “Hey, let’s look at this here a second. Let’s think about the ramifications of what you’re saying…”

 “Therefore my heart is glad, and my soul rejoices; my body also rests secure.”

          There may be times when I seem smart, but I struggle in school. I’ve gotten where I am because of my perseverance and effort, but there are plenty of times where I’ve struggled in class. You see, There is no way I should be here. Against all odds, I’m here in front of you, preaching. I’m finishing my first year at Luther Seminary, and well on my way of attaining a Master of Divinity. I graduated last year from Saint Cloud State with a 3.18 GPA, a low B average. I graduated from Morris Area High School 7 years ago with a 2.6 GPA, a straight C average. May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Last week, I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder, or ADD. I was told that those with ADD often don’t fare well in high school, and usually don’t enter a 4 year university. If they do study at a 4yr school, they tend to not graduate. If they do graduate, only 3% of those with ADD enter and finish grad school. But it is possible. I had faith in myself that I could get this far. My parents, teachers and mentors have faith in me, and I rely on that faith to keep me going. With this recent diagnosis, I can label my struggles and rely on the support of others. The Psalmist writes today,

 “Therefore my heart is glad, and my soul rejoices; my body also rests secure.”

         I am secure in my faith, in the faith of others, and the support we all share. We all need support, so here I am.

          Here I am, I front of you, against all odds that were presented to me all but a week ago. For the longest time, I thought it would take me the longest time to get here. For so long I had been saying, I’m on my way to seminary and I have X number of years left before I can get there. Now I’m saying, “Yes, I’m in seminary, but I have X number of years left before I can have my own call.” In two weeks, that number decreases by one. I’m getting there, and I have to do Thomas’ due diligence and take my time. I have to make sure. This year has been a year of making sure. I’ve known for a few years that this is where I’ve needed to be. I’ve needed to be in seminary, but this year, it’s been a process of making sure, of looking at Christ’s hands and feet at Luther Seminary. I needed to “Come and see”, just to make sure.

          Seminary and ministry are elements of life that need to be experienced before you can know for sure that one can do this for the rest of their foreseeable future. Sure, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe," but I would add that those who “Come and see” are also blessed. Ever since Martin Luther was able to mass produce the Bible in the common tongue with the help of the Gutenberg press, we’ve been able to “Come and see” for ourselves. We’ve been able to look upon Christ’s hands and feet for ourselves.     

There are times when we can’t afford to think. When life presents us with limited options, we shoot from the hip with the option we think is best. We make a ‘leap of faith’ that everything will work out. There’s no room for Thomas in these situations… or is there? Thomas was utilizing his faith when he outstretched his hands and felt Christ’s wounds. There will be times when we need to feel the wounds, and that’s okay. We need to experience what others have experienced, for that is community. Thomas was a part of that community of the disciples, and he needed to reconnect to this community. It was Thomas’s faith that propelled him to ask to see Christ’s wounds, not his lack of faith.

It all comes down to faith. Faith is what drove the disciples to the Upper Room. They may have been frightened, but their faith in Christ held them together in their community. It was Faith that led Thomas to the Upper Room. It was faith that drove Thomas to ask to see the Risen Christ’s hands and feet.

          It is my faith in gravity that prevents me from scaling high buildings. I have faith that Earth is spinning and that our planet is large enough that gravity holds me to the ground. Does it make me any less of a human being to JUMP every now and then just to make sure I can come back down?

          I have faith that Jesus Christ died and rose again for my salvation from sin. Does it make me any less of a Christian if I sin boldly now and then? Martin Luther famously suggested that we sin boldly, saying, “Be a sinner, and let your sins be strong, but let your trust in Christ be stronger, and rejoice in Christ who is the victor over sin, death, and the world. We will commit sins while we are here, for this life is not a place where justice resides. We, however… are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth where justice will reign.”

For that is the promise of Easter: That our Risen Christ died on the Cross for our sins, and rose again on the Third Day. We are saved by God’s grace through our faith. We may need to look upon the wounds of Christ now and then, but we are certainly blessed if we don’t. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Look upon the wounds of your Risen Christ, and belong to this community we call Christianity. For we are defined as Christians because of this Easter miracle. Jews and Muslims believe that Jesus lived, taught, preached and died. It is Jesus’ resurrection on the Third Day that separates from the other two Abrahamic faiths, but unites us as Christians. For there are many dividing lines that are drawn between Christian denominations, but this Easter miracle unties us all. So look upon the wounds of your Risen Savior. Have that communal experience that Thomas was looking for, and live in the splendor of God’s grace, love and mercy.

I leave you with the end of John’s Gospel. “But there are also many other things that Jesus did; if every one of them were written down, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.”

Christ is Risen! He is Risen Indeed! Hallelujah.

Amen.  

Trial - Luke 22:66-71

Lord,

We put You on trial ev’ry day
Upon waking we hope and pray
That the Truth You died for is True
And the Faith we have, You imbue

We are not perfect and we doubt
We are human, yet we seek out
A Lord and Savior of our own;
A friend for when we are alone

And when we do not need a friend
We tuck You away and pretend
That our life is fine without You
Upon remembering, we rue -

We rue the day we left You there
In our pocket, without a care
For You are forever with us
Even in that pocket, no fuss -

No fuss is made from You atall
You do in fact, You have the gall
To love unconditionally
No matter what, totally free

For that is what you died for yes?
Grace upon grace, thus we confess
That You, Lord are our Son of God
Son of Man, with You, Lord we trod

We trod with You, Lord ev’ry day
Upon waking we hope and pray
That You carry us when we fall
That You raise us up when You call

Us Home.

Amen

Embracing Change

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

            “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”

            Change. We love it. We hate it. Change happens.     

Sometimes change is gradual. The sun sets; the sun rises. It takes approximately 24 hours for the Earth to make a full rotation. 365.25 of these rotations happen every time the Earth travels around our Sun. Seasons (eventually) change. Because of Earth’s axis and our corresponding distance to the sun, we experience gradual change in our weather systems, however, the gradual change has become much harsher in the last few years. Children (eventually) grow up. Much like the seasons, sometimes this change is much harsher than is meant to, but generally, there is a gradual change with children maturing.

There are times when changes are too gradual and slow. It took the Church around 300 years to agree on what books should be in the Bible, 1500 years (and a rogue monk) to allow the common folk to read the Bible, 1800 years for the Catholic Church to formally admit the Earth was round, and 1900 years to admit that Jews didn’t kill Christ. Women weren’t allowed to formally be ordained in some protestant churches until the 1800s, LGBT folk until much later. It took almost 200 years for the United States to allow voting rights for everyone, and marriage equality is slowly changing the hearts of the nation, state by state.

            While some change is gradual, change can also be thrust upon us. Bombs are dropped, planes crash into buildings, and our nation is thrust into perpetual war. Parents divorce, loved ones die and thus, our family dynamics are never the same. However, sudden change sometimes arrives in the most unexpected of places.

            Moses was born, shoved in a basket coated with pitch and bitumen, and sent down the river, because his mother wished to save his life. He grew up, and after killing an Egyptian, Moses fled from Egypt and became a shepherd in Midian. God heard the cries of the Israelites, and called upon Moses to save God’s people. Moses went up to Mount Sinai, and God thrust upon him tremendous change. All of a sudden, God told Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt, and even though Moses pleaded to have someone else do it, God chose Moses. So Moses did as was commanded, and led the Israelite people out of Egypt. “Do not be afraid, little flock…”

            Some of you may have noticed, that I was not here on Wednesday. Well, at least for long. Wednesday morning, I dropped Sam off at daycare, and he was his normal jolly self. I went to class, went to the bank, and drove to work. I did as I always do, dropped my stuff down, put my phone on the desk, and went to the office to talk to Jen. I had a lovely talk, and then grabbed what I needed, and returned to my office. I heard my phone ringing. It was Tiffany. Sam was sick with a fever at daycare, and I had to drive back home to pick him up and take care of him. Tiffany was at a social work conference, and unable to leave, so the burden was on me to be there for Sam.

            I just drove all the way here. I had so much to accomplish, including writing this sermon. There was no way I’d be able to write this sermon and hangout with sick Sam all day. I had things to do here. I had to help the youth with their worship leading, show them how to light the Thurible, work on my Mission Trip for next summer and write this sermon. All of that changed with that phone call. Change was thrust upon me. I showed Jen how to use the Thurible, packed up my things and I rushed home. I did what was absolutely necessary, and I was off. Sam has spent the last few days pushing out his 2 year molars, and had given me little opportunity to finish this sermon.

            Change happens like that. Sometimes, our whole life gets thrown out of whack because of something out of our control. And how does one feel when this happens? Scared, and completely out of control.

            So, there he was. Not so alone with the thousands of Israelites behind him. In the wilderness. With no water. The Israelites had just survived slavery in Egypt and the escape from Pharaoh’s army. Now they were grumbling, miserable, and thirsty. Whining and complaining, they pointed their frustrations at Moses.  Moses was at his wit’s end. The Jewish Study Bible reads, “Moses cried out to the Lord, saying, “What shall I do with this people? Before long they will be stoning me!” God instructed Moses to strike a rock, and water would come forth from the rock. So, Moses did as he was asked and water issued from it. Moses struck the rock, and God came to the rescue of the Israelite people, bringing forth water for everyone to drink.

            Moses was no longer the boy who rode down the Nile in a basket, or a shepherd alone in the wilderness. By this time in the story, Moses had already met God, learned God’s ineffable name, confronted Pharaoh and his magicians, and led God’s people out of Egypt. Moses was now the leader of the Israelite people, and on his way to the Promised Land that was flowing with milk and honey. (Sounds Sticky)

           

            “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing… Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin… For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them…”

            There I was. Alone in the baseball field. I had just survived ten months in Orange County, where life was unlike anything I had known before. I had missed the wind blowing in the trees, the quiet peace that was small town life, the clear air of Midwestern Minnesota. This was my home. For years growing up in Donnelly, I longed for the city life of Saint Cloud, my birthplace. But as the years wore on, Donnelly (and by extension, Morris) became my home. So upon leaving home and arriving in the land of make believe, otherwise known as California, I was quickly tired of sunny and 70 degrees every day. Crazy I know, but after 3 months of sun, I started to miss… ya know… weather… My parents had divorced when I was a sophomore, and I moved to California with my mother and little brother for my Junior year of high school. I hated the dramatic changes that my life had taken. From small town to mega suburbia; from small high school to larger high school (still nowhere near as large as some of your schools…); from living with two parents then one and helping support myself and my little brother; from everyone knowing what a Lutheran was to almost no one knowing…

            I went to school, went to work, paid for our school lunches, and fought my parents on where I should be living. I won. I moved back to Donnelly at the end of that school year, and this was my first chance of being alone. Alone, under the clear blue sky, in the baseball field. I had no idea the changes that were about to befall me even then, but I didn’t care. I was home. Over the course of that final summer at home and the eventual school year, I learned about love; about friendships; about how to live on my own. My father moved down here to the cities before I even finished high school. I was on my own at 17. Those next 6 years after high school, I moved eight times, lived in 5 different apartments, attended four different universities, married Tiffany and became a father. Here I am today, telling you, that change is hard, but change can be good. Change was thrust upon me when my parents divorced and I moved to California and back, but I became who I am today because of it. “Do not be afraid, little flock…”

            There He was. Alone on a cross. He had just barely survived being beaten, flogged, and pierced through the side, and there He was, suffocating to death on a cross. Jesus was no longer the 12 year-old carpenter’s son reading in the temple. No longer was He just the man who was being baptized in the Jordan; just the man who healed the sick, cured the blind, or fed the hungry. Neither was He merely the man who told parables; the man who fished with his friends; or the man who calmed the seas. Jesus had changed so much in those short 30ish years; seen so much; been so much to so many.

Just a few days before, He was riding into Jerusalem with palms or coats being thrown at His feet for Jesus and His disciples to walk on. Just a few days before, He had dinner with his friends, and He washed their feet. Jesus knew he was going to die, but change was thrust upon His disciples when the authorities arrested Him. Peter denied Christ three times. The cock crowed. Judas ended his own life. On Easter morning, His disciples were scared, ran away, or were doubtful. After Christ’s ascension, Peter and the rest of the disciples went from following Jesus to proclaiming His message. 

They were thrusting change upon the world. And this change happened slowly over time, but the entire world was forever changed because of Christ’s life and eventual death on the Cross. The entire world was saved because of God’s grace. Christ changed the world. Christ changes us. Christ changes you. Change happens. Everything on this planet changes. Coal eventually turns into Diamond; children eventually become adults; students become teachers; and winter (eventually) turns to spring.  

Life begins anew with spring, yet

Frosty winter has died, forget?

Cold must cease to welcome the birds

Christ must die, to rise on the third

Change happens. God blesses this change, and instructs us to not fear it. We are different because of this change, but we are better for it. We are not defined by who we were, but by who we are today. I don’t love Minnesota because of the winter, but because of the spring. Easter is not determined by Lent, but the timing of Lent is determined by the timing of Easter. We hearty Minnesotans stay here through these long harsh winters because we know and we love the beauty of spring. We are Lutherans because of the emptiness of this Cross. We believe in and profess the living word, the risen Christ. It is God’s grace and mercy because of Christ’s death on the Cross that we proudly profess is freely given to everyone. Grace that is freely given because of Christ’s death and resurrection. Change is coming my friends. Do not be afraid. Embrace it.

Amen. 

And the Papers, They Were Signed and Said: They'd Never Fight Again

This is my unedited Sermon from Feb 23. I delivered it without the Star Wars bit, but I think it adds more to the feelings I wanted to put forth. Without further ado, here you be:

Ninth Grade (or thereabouts) me...

Ninth Grade. Those of you currently in 9^th grade and older know that feeling. What feeling? The feeling of being in Ninth Grade of course. You’re in that awkward phase of puberty, where nothing sounds or fits just right, and sometimes, you just do stupid things. Okay, so we all do stupid things now and again, but the frequency of stupid things happening seems to increase once you hit Junior High (or is it senior high here?) Well, okay. I was in Junior High at Morris Area High School. There were about 500 students in the entire high school, 7-12grade. I graduated with 72. Of that 72, I was the on the bottom of the social proverbial barrel. I was probably one of the most awkward children in 9^th grade, and that didn’t help my social status. So, being the bottom of the proverbial barrel, kids picked on me. Frequently. There was this kid Rick that would smack me so hard on the arm, I’d have bruises. I didn’t hit back, for my arms were even more flimsy than they are now. No, I didn’t hit back. I followed one of the lessons of today’s Gospel. I ‘turned the other cheek’ in a manner of speaking. I would turn so he would then hit my other arm… Yeah… It doesn’t work so well. By following Christ’s example, I ended up with two bruised arms instead of one. There’s bound to be some sort of logic involved in there right?

“Turn the other cheek.” “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Some of you have heard these phrases before. But how many of you are willing to do so? How many of you are willing to lay down your pride so that your enemy may persecute you more? Is that the point? Is that the lesson Christ is teaching us? Pray for those who persecute you…

Ninth grade is an awkward time to be pondering these questions. Ninth grade is an awkward time anyway. You’re somewhere in that liminal period between Junior and Senior High, with some kids still acting like teenagers and yet some are growing full beards. Guess which one I was. For most of my grade school years, my mother was the youth director at the church, and we were always at church on Sundays, rain or shine, no snow or driving blizzard. We lived ten miles north of town, on the edge of nowhere, so there were some Sundays where all five of us piled into the front seat of the clunky old pickup truck just to make it to church. We were always at church on Sundays, so I’d slowly absorb some of what the lessons were saying. I apparently absorbed today’s lesson right around 9^th grade. I distinctly remember thinking “turn the other cheek” when Rick would hit me, hoping the kid might find some heart in not hitting me a second time. Nope. I wore two bruises, because I was being righteous. I was being the man I thought I should be.

“But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.” (Matthew 5:44-45)

All was quiet on the western front, in faraway fields in 1914. German and Allied soldiers who were shooting at each other for days, gave an impromptu ceasefire on Christmas Eve that lasted until Boxing Day (December 26^th). During that ceasefire, they celebrated Christmas together. Sworn enemies that had been fighting for months on end shared meals and song together, all with the bodies of their friends around them; the bodies of men that were shot by the very men that were now celebrating Christmas together. The soldiers came together; put aside the politics and the warmongering, and became a community, all across the western front; for at least a day or two. But, Christmas came and went, and on December the 26^th, fighting resumed, for another four years. For those brief hours of celebrating the birth of our Savior, community was formed, and peace ruled the land. They loved their enemy, at least for a while.

Fast forward a bit. I was a senior in high school, and our choir was putting on a talent show. I wanted to play guitar in front of everyone, but I’d never played in front of anyone before really, so this was my big break. It was 2007. The American military had been engaged in the Middle East for my entire high school career (and as it turns out, my entire college career so far…). As a bleeding heart socialist in a conservative community, I was the sheep in the pack of wolves that was Morris Area High School. They were in a way, “my political enemies” I could have played something antagonistic, but I chose a different path. I chose a better way. Again, I turned the other cheek. I knew what I wanted to play, but I had to pass it with the choir teacher. Mr. K knew me well enough to know that I was going to sing something political. He was pleasantly surprised when I presented him with a song from 1950.

Ed McCurdy wrote, “Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream” in 1950. It has been covered many times since, and I heard it from the Chad Mitchell Trio. It’s amazing such a song can be so timeless, but I got up there, in front of everyone, and I sang these words of peace:

Last night I had the strangest dream

I'd ever dreamed before

I dreamed the world had all agreed

To put an end to war

I dreamed I saw a mighty room

The room was filled with men

And the paper they were signing said

They'd never fight again

And when the paper was all signed

And a million copies made

They all joined hands and bowed their heads

And grateful prayers were prayed

And the people in the streets below

Were dancing 'round and 'round

And guns and swords and uniforms

Were scattered on the ground

Last night I had the strangest dream

I'd never dreamed before

I dreamed the world had all agreed

To put an end to war.

From that fateful night...

I sang those words, in front of all of my friends, their parents, and half of Morris. With my foot rapidly quivering the entire time, I proclaimed to those gathered there, that we should indeed put an end to these wars. Enough was enough. Seven years later, Iraq no longer has major American military presence, and we’re hopefully leaving Afghanistan this summer.

            

Return with me, to a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. This time, we meet Luke Skywalker on the ice planet of Hoth, (similar to the climate we currently reside in) freezing to death. He had just had an altercation with a large monster and was losing consciousness. Before he loses coherency, Luke hears Obi-Wan calling from the distance. Obi-Wan instructs Luke to head to the Dagobah system to learn the ways of force from Yoda.

            

A giant battle soon ensues; Luke and the Rebels flee from the Empire’s attack of the planet, and Luke ventures off to learn the force from Yoda. Yoda, a once proud Grand General of the Republic, is hiding out on this planet far, far away from the clutches of the Emperor’s grasp. Luke crash lands on this swampy planet, and soon discovers Yoda. After a discussion or two with Yoda and Obi-Wan, Luke begins to learn the ways of the force from Yoda. He carries Yoda around on his back, lifts rocks using the force, and learns to hone his skills. Yoda then tells Luke, “A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack” 

Later on, Luke is sitting with Yoda, when he feels a disturbance, and he wants to check it out. Yoda tells Luke, “Your weapons, you will not need them.” But he takes them anyway. Luke wanders around in the swamp for a while, and then sees him. Darth Vader: the man who killed his father (or so Luke thinks). Vader draws his lightsaber. Luke draws his. A slow motion lightsaber duel ensues, and Luke soon chops Vader’s head off. Too easy. Vader’s head rolls on the ground, and then, a cloud of smoke. Underneath Vader’s shattered mask is not Vader’s face, but Luke’s. This surreal vision was only the manifestation of Luke’s daringness to bring his weapons. The idea was that if Luke continued down his aggressive path, Luke would become what he hated most: Darth Vader.

Christ didn’t say “Turn the other cheek” because he wanted us to be weak willed. A classmate of mine explained that in those days, for a person to slap another once in public was an outrage, but for a person to slap another a second time, on the other cheek, meant that the slapper was the one disgraced. They went over the line. Christ wasn’t telling us to not fight back, but that the slap shouldn’t happen at all. To slap another twice was more disgraceful for the slapper than for the abused. “Pray for those who persecute you” isn’t a commandment of defense, or to make yourself feel better, it’s a commandment of ending violence. If we truly followed the “Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth”, we’d all be blind and in need of dental surgery. If we only turned the other cheek, and prayed for those persecuting us, we’ll still have those two bruised arms. This text is not about the perpetuation of violence, but about a call to END the violence.

In a country where many are killed due to gun violence; where many are abused by their partners; where kids are picked on at school; we need to implement a change. Christ commands us to find a better way.

Remember that February is Black History Month. Remember the sacrifices Martin Luther King Jr. and others made to end the violence in this country. There are better ways of resolving conflict. Christ told us this 2000 years ago, and think of all the wars since then that have been waged in His name. Find a better way folks. Don’t just turn the other cheek, but pray for those who persecute you to stop the persecution, to find a better way.

I leave you with a video of a recording of John Denver and the Chad Mitchell Trio singing "Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream"

Hermeneutical Heresies

Two weeks have passed (and then some) of my first Spring Semester here at Luther Seminary. As a quick rundown, here are my classes:

Synoptic Gospels: Mark
Pastoral Care
Creation and the Triune God
Early and Medieval Church History
Rural Church Administration (second half of the semester)

And, because it's been a while since I've written in my blog, here's an update:

Over J-Term, I worked a lot at church, stayed home with Sam for the 5 (FIVE!!!) Snow (Frigid cold) days, worked on Greek and Hebrew (not as much as I would have liked), and played a fair amount of video games... (I stocked up because I don't really have time now...)

Also, I've asked my Rabbi, Joseph Edelheit to be my Spiritual Director as a request from my Candidacy Committee. He is happy to proclaim to folks he introduces me to that I had to request permission from the Dean of Students to have a retired Rabbi as my Spiritual Director. It's an honor to have him guiding me through my next few years at seminary, and I thoroughly enjoy our conversations together.

I'm also in the process of finding a counselor, also as part of my candidacy process. Hooray! The last time I was placed in front of a counselor (besides Mr. Graves giving me advice on college) was when my parent's divorced and the three of us went to Lutheran Social Services in Alexandria to talk about said divorce. None of us said much of anything, and the counselor got frustrated with us, so, we didn't return. That was my last formal counseling meeting. (again, besides pre-marital counseling with Tiffany and Pr. Randy)

I also purchased my first truck, a blue 97 Dodge Dakota. It's pretty, runs reasonably fine, and it was reasonably cheap in comparison to everything else. The 4WD has also come in handy, especially in our own parking lot. I've had to use it at least on 3 occasions, and it looks like I'll get to use it again tomorrow. Hooray!

SO, with these new additions to my already hectic life, spring oughta come real quick. Spring... it seems like such a long ways off, especially considering the amount of snow expected to pile on tomorrow. But, there are 40's in the forecast, so ya know... who knows.

On that note, let's (the obligatory hortatory subjunctive) begin. I wanted to officially start off this post with two definitions tonight:

First, Hermeneutic: a method or principle of interpretation
Second, Heresy: a belief or opinion that does not agree with the official belief or opinion of a particular religion. (In the original Greek, αἵρεσις means choice)

Ya know... Lots of choices...

I need to commit heresy. I need to commit a(n) hermeneutical heresy(ies) against myself. Yep. Let me explain. A little more than a week ago, I had a wonderful conversation with Joseph (my Rabbi) as part of my Spiritual Direction (it's really become a lot of life direction as well). (I should write a book someday...) (maybe without all of these J.D.-esque parenthetical thoughts everywhere...)

Anyway, we were conversing about my most recent sermon on Vocation, and he had suggested that I needed to revise it. He suggested that I needed to re-frame the thought as not a single moment of calling, but an entire lifetime of calling. Thus, I should not have focused solely on Luke's calling from Ben as a one time moment, but more of a constant calling of saving the galaxy.

How Luke goes from this guy...

  To this guy...

And to finally this guy...

So as to not show that Luke has only one time in his life that he's called, but that he has had multiple times in which that he is called, to show much more of a story. The idea is, that we are each called not once, but multiple times throughout our lives.

To put it in perspective, I feel that I've been called to be a campus pastor. I have an entire Call Story that goes with that calling. But I only focus on that time at the stoplight with the garlic bread. (If you don't know about the garlic bread story, I'll tell you sometime...)

Joseph also suggested that I should not be so sure of my calling; that my confidence in my call may be a cover for anxiety and fear of what lies ahead. My confidence as to my role in life may not be so confident after all...

And this my friends, is where I commit my heresy.

You see, my CYF professor, Andy Root, explained hermeneutics perfectly this way: he had our class take our forefingers, hold them above our head, and spin them in a circle clockwise (you can try this if you want), watching them spin clockwise. Then, he had us slowly lower our fingers below our nose, (slowly now...) watching as our fingers went from spinning clockwise, to spinning counter-clockwise below our very noses...

Hermeneutics, he explained, is perspective. Our fingers didn't change the direction they were spinning; only our interpretation of the direction changed. Our perspective changed when we moved our fingers from above our head to below it. Our outlook on the world changes, when our perspective changes.

When I moved to California, I had no idea about the daily struggles of immigrant workers. I had no idea the constant fear they lived under. I had no idea of the realities that were "anchor babies". Mothers were scared of deportation when their "anchor babies" lived here in America. When I finally moved back to Minnesota, my hermeneutic on immigration changed. My hermeneutic on LGBT relations changed. My hermeneutic on California(ns) changed. Life changed.

So when life changes, perspectives change with it. This is where I need to commit that heremeneutical heresy. My life has changed in the last few years. I went from college freshman status to newlywed status to parent status to graduated status to seminarian status in less than 4 years. In all that time, I've had the same outlook on my call, and the same outlook on my future life. I think it's time for heresy.

I need to re-frame my outlook on my call. Maybe God was indeed calling me to be a campus pastor. Maybe, however, I should take a hint from others and look at other prospects as well. I still have an undying love for campus ministry, and will continue to fight for it's survival, but maybe I need to broaden my horizons a bit.

When I was 6, we were moving from Saint Cloud to Donnelly, and it was my last day at Roosevelt Elementary (which is now an ECFE center). It was recess, and I was wearing an amazingly awesome red sweatsuit. (Yes, red sweat pants, red sweater). It was windy, and I think this was my first (memorable) in-touch moment with God (or my spirituality), but I can clearly remember sticking my arms out (like a sail) and walking with the wind. With my pants and sweater fluttering in the breeze, I can remember pretending I was a leaf, being carried by the wind, and I slowly glided across the playground, being carried by the wind.

That is where I need to be again. I need to be that leaf again. I need to let go of my inhibitions, and go where the Holy Spirit leads. I need to let go of that confidence, and realize that life is truly up to God. Life is not a road map, but a river; constantly ebbing and flowing, turning this way and that, with tributaries leading to more rivers...

So. All in all, I'm a heretic. I'm committing hermeneutical heresy, but I need to sit back, and let the Holy Spirit guide me and my family. So then, and only then, might my heremeneutic change, and life may once again join that river ever flowing...

Amen

"Come and See" in a suburb not so far, far away...

This is my sermon that I preached today, 1/19/14 at Maple Grove Lutheran. I tailored it specifically for this congregation and context, but the overall message is the same. Again, like the last sermon I posted, you get the added benefit of pictures. (Because, it is a blog after all...)

Woefully wistful...

Luke Skywalker was a lonely moisture farmer on the far outer rim world of Tatooine. Far from the Emperor’s reach on the galaxy, Luke was barely aware of the War between the Empire and the Rebel Alliance, or the battle going on above him. Until two special droids happened upon him, he was quite content living his peaceful life as a moisture farmer. Unbeknownst to him, these two droids held the key to saving the galaxy. Soon after discovering these droids, Obi-Wan Kenobi came to the rescue when Luke was attacked by roaming raiders. Obi-Wan knew what these droids meant to the galaxy. Obi-Wan knew who Luke Skywalker was, and the power he possessed. He knew Luke was destined for great things, he only needed to convince Luke of that.

You could poke an eye out with that...

The Rebel Alliance needed Luke’s help, and Obi-Wan knew it. So, after explaining to Luke the dire situation, and without going into too much more detail, Obi-Wan essentially said to Luke, “Come and See…” “Come and See” what power you possess. Come and feel the power of the force. Come and save the galaxy. Luke protested. He bartered. He put up every defense he could think of. But upon finding out dire news, Luke knew he had no choice but to indeed “Come and See”.

“Come and See”.

In today’s Gospel, the newly proclaimed Lamb of God told his first disciples to “Come and See.” Through the disciples, through the Gospel, he thus calls us to “Come and See.” We each have a “Come and See” moment at least once in our life. When we are little, our parents tell us to “Come and See” what they have for us. Christmas is a “Come and See” jubilee of presents, family and fun. And yet still, there are more prolific events in our lives that are even more of “Come and See” moments. I’m talking about your calling. I’m talking about Vocation.

NOT Vacation... But that is pretty...

No, not VACATION, but VOCATION. One of Luther Seminary’s professors, Rolf A Jacobson, defines vocation best in this way:
“The thing you do that was given to you to do in the way you do for the benefit of those you are doing it for.
Got that? Vocation - not to be confused with vacation (taking a break from things) or vacuation (getting stuff out of your system) - is the thing(s) you are called by God to do, with gifts and talents God has given you, to which you commit your passion and excitement and energy for the sake of God's CREATION.
The word comes from a Latin term, vocare, meaning "calling" - which implies a caller: God. God calls more than just pastors. God calls each of us, gives us many gifts, and gives us a lift up by means of the Spirit. Actually, we all have more than one vocation. Our Christian vocations include our jobs, our roles as family members, our roles as friends, as neighbors, as citizens, and so on. Vocation is all about loving the NEIGHBOR and serving in God's name.”

For it is not merely Gospel writers, parents, Jedi Masters or employers telling you to “Come and See”, it is God. Divine Will. I’ve written a few times about Divine Will, for the concept intrigues me. However, I have my own personal experiences with it that inspire that intrigue. For it is that I am called to eventually be ordained into pastoral ministry. Ask me sometime about my Garlic Bread story, but suffice it to say that I kicked around after high school a little, met Tiffany at Lutheran Campus Ministry in Moorhead, and felt the call from God shortly after entering college. I feel that I am called to specifically campus ministry, but for now, I’m still a Junior at Luther Seminary. I have three years of education and internship ahead of me, plus at least three years at a first call until I’m able to fulfill my true calling.

I came to Luther Seminary before I even graduated from Saint Cloud State University with my Bachelor of Elective Studies degree. I entered into the Children, Youth and Family program and thus was thrown into flurry of interviewing for paid youth ministry opportunities. After being discouraged from multiple NO’s from other congregations, I had a lovely call from Pastor Chris inviting me to check this church out. I’m so very thankful for that call. Today’s Psalm says, “He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD.” (Psalm 40:3)

Yeah, it was something like that… Anyway, that call from Pastor Chris was God saying to me, “Come and See”. So I came, and I saw. I saw what wonderful people you are. I saw the beautiful ministry that goes on here. I also saw the hurt from wounds still fresh, yet God’s healing presence is ever present. I saw the tremendous opportunity for growth this church has for me; and the tremendous growth opportunity this church has for itself. I plan to grow alongside you, making this church a better place for us all. And here I am, in front of you all, thanking you all for this blessed opportunity. Without your support, I wouldn’t be able to be here. Without your continued support of all the youth activities, I wouldn’t be able to be here.
Isaiah tells us how he’s been called to be the prophet that he became in our first lesson. For it is that in Isaiah that we first learn of the call for the Messiah, that shoot of Jesse. “You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified.” (Isaiah 49:3) Isaiah was called to “Come and See”, the disciples were called to “Come and See”, and each of us are called to “Come and See”.

Everybody needs somebody...

Each one of us are called to be somebody for someone. Each one of us is called to be whatever God wills us to be. Each one of us is called to “Come and See” the glory that is God’s creation. Remember last week when it was unbearably cold, and the wind was so cold it would freeze your brains? When it was so cold that the governor closed every public school in the state? Did you dare stop to listen? Did you stop in that frigid cold, for a few seconds, just to listen? You see, sound travels so very well in that cold. Moisture has trouble forming in that cold, so sound waves have nothing but physical objects to block them. What that means is you can hear practically everything you couldn’t before. I remember last week when I briefly just stood there and listened, the snow sounded different. The snow felt and sounded like Styrofoam. At other times in that frigid cold, I have stood in that stillness, and heard the crinkling of the ice on trees; the smoke coming out of a chimney with a low hum; a rabbit hopping a block away. And somewhere in that cold; that frigid air; that stillness, God was there.

You know... that cold...

“Come and See”, Jesus said. Next time it gets that cold, (hopefully it waits until next winter), just stop and listen. “Come and See” the glory that is God’s creation. There are two images I think of when hearing the words “God’s creation”. This frigid image of stillness, and an open field. Maybe some of you have had the pleasure of growing up on farms, in the middle of nowhere, so some of you may know of this, but I encourage each of you to get out of this bubble that is the cities. I encourage each of you to drive until any hope of civilization is miles away. This is another reason I’m thankful for being called to Maple Grove. I miss the openness. I miss the sprawling prairies of Western Minnesota. Maple Grove is on the edge of the cities, and I like that. You don’t have to drive too far to be in the middle of nowhere. Not so long ago, this was the middle of nowhere. I used to joke that Donnelly was on the edge of the planet, with the drop-off just over the horizon. But even so, when I need to clear my head, I imagine that open field in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but the sound of nature to keep me company. In the summer of 2015, I’ll be inviting the Junior High youth to “Come and See” the beauty that is Greater Minnesota. (...more like Better Minnesota)

God calls us each to “Come and See”. It may be our vocation that God is calling us towards. It may be God calling us to see God’s beautiful creation, but that Lamb of God is calling us for a purpose. In the words of Smith in The Matrix Reloaded, “It is purpose that created us, purpose that connects us, purpose that pulls us, that guides us, that drives us; it is purpose that defines us, purpose that binds us.” We seek this purpose daily. Even if we think we know what God’s purpose for us is, we may still be wrong. That’s what faith is for. Faith is that binding agreement between us and God. God has faith in us, we have faith in God. Paul said it best in today’s epistle reading from 1 Corinthians, “I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus, for in every way you have been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind - just as the testimony of Christ has been strengthened among you - so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ. He will also strengthen you to the end, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful; by him you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.” (1 Corinthians 1:4-9)

The Lamb of God calls everyone, saying “Come and See”. God calls all of us. Go, and see God’s purpose for you in your life, and live in the splendor of God’s creation.

Amen.

In a Box, High Up on the Shelf

I'm not gay, but I was in 5th Grade when I was first called a fag. Before then, I was picked on for my underbite, my rockin' hand-me-down sweatsuits, my less-than-stellar appearance, whatever. Fifth Grade was the first time my sexuality was questioned by a classmate. Fifth Grade was the year I lost my cousin and my paternal grandmother. Fifth Grade was the beginning of my activist life.

Before then, I had little knowledge of what sexuality was. Fifth Grade was the big year where boys got to learn what boys had downstairs and girls got to learn what girls had downstairs. (Sixth Grade was the big year where boys got told what girls had and girls got told what boys had) Of course the videos were corny and outdated. Of course everyone was awkward and inappropriate about it. Puberty happens when it happens.

I was nice. I wasn't an asshole. I wasn't a jock who cared about sports. I was smart. I loved learning about space and science. I loved the little trivia games we had. I loved playing oboe (a "girl's instrument") in band (I never practiced, but I loved playing it). I didn't pick on anyone, I made dad-jokes even then. Somehow, all of that, meant that I was gay. When it happened, I did what every curious child would do. I looked the word up.

When I looked it up in a dictionary (before wide use of the internet), this is similar to what I saw:

So, I wasn't a schoolboy in Britain, or anything pertaining to one, and I wasn't a cigarette. It led me to the last definition and thus the following word, Faggot. There it was, right underneath. Faggot: A male homosexual. (can't be female of course...)

Fifth Grade. My sexuality was first questioned when I was too young to understand why.

From then on, it was continuous. As I grew up, the teasing didn't stop, they were just more inventive. Butt Pirate was my favorite... There was a kid from Texas who would call me a gay fucker in Spanish. There were kids of all ages calling me a gay fucker. I knew I wasn't, so it didn't make sense to me why they knew something I didn't. There were cute girls, and I had long-lasting crushes on a few of them, but I never asked any girls out until much, much later. We lived 10 miles away, I was too young or unable to drive, and we were poor. There was no point.

California Sunrise... In January...

My parents divorced and I moved to California with my younger brother and my mother. I joined choir, and met some really cool folks. After our first choir concert, the nice ones asked if I would like to go out to Denny's with them. It was the first real social engagement I had had with multiple people who weren't related to me. So I went out with them, and during the conversation, one of them asked what I thought of gay people. I told them that they were cool ordinary folks and I kinda knew a couple from working at McDonald's... They nodded and went on talking, and then a note came to me and it said, "Bryan's gay." Oh. I smiled. It was then that I knew I was in. I was cool. I was a trusted friend, and that knowledge was good.

From that point on, I had a trusted friend that was part of the LGBT community. It was then that I knew I had to fight for their rights alongside them. That was when I proudly wore my 'ALLY' Button on my heart (figuratively of course). Gay was no longer a label of fear, but a friendly, smiling face. I wasn't gay, but I had a trusted friend who was, and that was important to me.

Remember that dude?

I moved back to Morris a changed man. It seemed everybody grew up my senior year. That is until... Facebook. Facebook suddenly became available to those without .edu emails. (which is how I acquired one, but I still had to be invited from a current facebook user...) One of my classmates made a pro-life note on facebook, and it sparked a discussion in the comments. A LONG discussion... about 40 comments until... Someone threw in a homophobic remark... and then another... and another flurry of comments went flying by. Half of the upperclassmen were in this discussion (okay, maybe not half... but a lot) My Senior Class President, the representative of all that is good for my class... said something to the effect of, "all those gays better leave the country" or something...

Either way, the discussion was printed out and given to the principle. People were talked to, but no recourse was done. Then, sometime in the course of that year, the liberal kids showed up in school with shirts from UMM that said, "Gay? fine by me..." Which of course provoked the conservative kids to show up wearing shirts that said, "Gay? NOT fine by me..." Both shirts were soon banned from the school... Soon after that, I started placing DFL and LGBT-Ally propaganda on my locker, above my locker, anywhere for people to see that I was lamb in a pack of wolves. I wanted to get out of that town, and get on with my life...

Christmas Day 2009

Life... funny how it all worked out. I bounced around for a few years after graduation, and wound up working at the Flying J Truckstop in Fargo. I was a server in the restaurant (above) there for a year or so, and whilst I was there, I met a handful of lovely colorful characters. I also got to hear all the conservative banter from all the truckers. One night, I was alone up front with no customers when a driver came barging in.

"Are you the only waitress?", he exclaimed. "No," I said, "I'm a waitER, and yes, I'm the only one." He replied, "NO, you're a WAITRESS, you're working up here, you're a WAITRESS." "Alright sir," I sighed, "I'm the only server yes. What can I get for you?" He huffed, turned around and proceeding to stomp out of the restaurant. He met my coworker, a female server at the door, and talked with her for a while. Then, he left. I heard later that he complained to both my coworker and to the C-Store next door about how the restaurant DARE hire a fucking faggot. How DARE they allow one of THEM to work. I was so mad... I went to the back room and yelled. A lot. I almost quit. I saw the man again, a few times. I wasn't allowed to serve him, for fear I might 'get the gay on him' or something... The manager never kicked him out...

I'm not gay. I have wonderful, brilliant and inspiring friends in the LGBT community. I fully support, fight for and insist on their full rights guaranteed to them and every other person in this country. But that's not what I'm getting at. That's not why I'm telling you these harrowing tales. I'm telling you because I can't tell my youth. At least, not yet.

You see, I feel it is very important to inform my youth about this, because I'm sure they or their friends have been picked on. I'm sure they know of someone who's been bullied for something they're not. And I know they hear the conservative rhetoric about LGBT folk, especially after the Duck Dynasty crap. It's current, it's relevant, and I wanted to talk to my 7-12graders about my stories and what the Bible really says in the 4 or so verses that mention something resembling homosexuality. But I can't.

It was suggested to me that I need to be obedient to the church. I need to learn my context, and feel it out. I need to take it slow. I was told that I can't be put in a box like I should be. That little box on the Shelf... My point, my friends, is this, and it's a recurring theme: Can my past experiences be put in a box, high up on a shelf... all for the sake of my church? Does my calling hinder my past? Where do my advocacy and activism boxes go? When does doing the right thing take a side to... political pressure?

CAN I NOT BE MYSELF?

CAN I NOT ADVOCATE AND FIGHT?

Where is the line between right and wrong when I cannot do the right without being in the wrong? I feel like I'll face this dilemma frequently in my future calling... The church is meant for more than playing nice.

One last thought: I think I've told this story before, but I think it's prudent now. My rabbi always told the story in class about the time in his rabbinical office when a man asked him if the rabbi would accept the man for his homophobia. If the rabbi was so accepting of LGBT folks, would he accept the man for being homophobic. He never told the end of that story, and I think that's the point. It's always the question. We must seek the answer, but probably never receive it.

Amen