His Name is Dean

On a cold December morning, a man comes into Bethel while the building is full of children preparing for the morrow's Sunday School programs.

He asks to see a pastor.  Dean tells me that he has been out of prison for two days.  With tears in his eyes he says, "I didn't mean to hurt that person.  I was drunk.  I didn't know what I was doing."  Whatever his offense was, he served seven years.

In the two days since being released from prison, Dean tells me that someone has stolen his sleeping bag and his tarp.  He is hungry and wonders if the church has anything he can eat.  We are blessed to have a pantry of food--a pantry which varies a great deal in quantity depending upon the day.  I tell Dean I will go downstairs and I am sure I will come back with some good food for him.  I say it will take a little while since I need to wind my way through a few hallways to the kitchen.

All of a sudden a look of concern comes to his face, "You aren't going to call the law or something are you?"

It had never occurred to me that someone would be justified in being suspicious of another who might be attempting to help, but who could have other ideas.  I assure Dean that I am not going to call the police but am going for food.

We are fortunate.  There is some good food to share on a Saturday morning.  Dean is so grateful.  He asks if we can pray.  It is common that I offer a prayer and people offer their thanks.  In this case, when I am done, Dean takes over in a prayer of his own.  It is a prayer for me and for the people of Bethel.  It is a prayer that the Christmas message may make a difference in peoples' lives.

Dean thanks me again and walks into the cold December sunshine.

Another man long ago had no shelter--not even for a pregnant wife.  They were forced to Bethlehem by order of the government for census.  Joseph was poor.  Likely he was grateful for whatever was given to him.  To Mary.  To Jesus.

His name is Dean.  He is a child of God who, like all of us, needs the light that will overcome darkness.

Garden of Eden

One Sunday years ago at Bethel Lutheran Church, a visiting pastor from northern Mexico offered a greeting to the congregation as we were partners in mission.  It was late September in Minnesota--our little corner of the world bursting with God's creative impulse of color and beauty.

Through a translator this pastor said, "You people live in the Garden of Eden."

Coming from an area of the world that is more brown than green, more dry than lush, the pastor believed that he had come to a place of immense beauty.

He was right.  It is easy for those of us who live in the beauty of the upper Midwest to take our environment for granted.  Not long ago I took a cup of coffee out onto the deck of a townhouse at Christmas Mountain Village near Wisconsin Dells.  The sun was rising into the morning sky.  The trees stood like vibrant green and brown soldiers. Leaves fluttered in the light wind.

We read in Isaiah 58:  "Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard."

May God grant you a dawn that lifts your spirit and assures you of his loving presence.  It is difficult to look at the beauty of creation and not see God's fingerprints everywhere.

Garden of Eden.  Yes.