Connected

Most of us are connected in multiple ways.  Even the church is connected to the world and to each other in so many, many ways.  The first picture you see here is a welcome luncheon for new Rochester Chamber of Commerce members.  While I have been an individual member for over five years, recently the chamber made it affordable for the church to join as a business member.  We are able to make connections in new ways with a cross section of our community.  In some ways, Bethel is a business and has to be run like a business.  If we do not meet our monthly obligations, like all businesses, we would have to close the doors.  We need to be smart in our use of technology and in using media (like this blog?) to reach out to people.  Being connected in a chamber of commerce is one way to extend our reach.

The second picture is even more exciting.  On the same day of the luncheon our normal confirmation group came together in Bethel Hall.  More than 110 students.  Some 16-20 adult leaders who serve as small group leaders at the tables.  Four to five staff
members who devote their time so that our confirmation students are

afforded the best possible confirmation program. 

Have you ever been in a room with 110 excited 7th, 8th, and 9th graders?  The energy, even at 6pm, is palpable.  They may have just spent a long day at school, and they might have been to a sports practice or music group in the late afternoon.  Yet they show up faithfully, Wednesday after Wednesday, to learn about God's great love for them and our response in love to God.

The students are connecting, and they are connected.  This is just one of the programs the church offers to ensure that youth know they belong, that they are loved by God.

They are connected because you have helped to connect them.  You promised that you would support them in baptism.  You are making the promises come true.  I pray for you the connection that these youth feel week after week.  There is a God who wants to connect with you and offer his best.  We are the body of Christ.  Connected from head to toe.

Harmon Killebrew and Jesus

Last night Kathy and I saw our second Twins game at Target Field in Minneapolis.  Taking a different route into the stadium, we saw the statue of Harmon Killebrew--my favorite Twin as I grew up in the 1960's.  You might have guessed that since in the picture I am wearing a Killebrew jersey which I received for my birthday (a month early!).

Like so many children, I hoped that I would one day play professional baseball.  I matured earlier than classmates, and I could hit the ball a long ways.  I fashioned myself as a home run hitter like Killebrew.

In third grade we needed to do a report on what we "wanted to do when we grew up".  On the cover of my report were two pictures.  One of them was a picture of Killebrew.  I would play baseball in the summertime.

But that would leave many months of the year to pursue my other love--the church.  The other picture on that report was of a pastor.  From my earliest days of recollection, I felt called to be a pastor in the church.  From elementary school on, people would encourage me and affirm in various ways my pursuit of being a pastor.

This picture--the Head of Christ by Warner Sallman--was hanged over my bed, along with many other Sallman lithographs that I received from perfect Sunday School attendance.

There were many people I admired when I was young (including many Minnesota Vikings players starting in 1961).  So many teachers and coaches and friends and relatives were formative in my upbringing.  But Harmon Killebrew and Jesus were on a different plane than most.

I once met Harmon Killebrew in the Minneapolis airport.  He was kind to exchange a few words with me.  It is my privilege to encounter the Risen Christ every day.  Anywhere.  All times.  Harmon remains a hero in my book.  Jesus has turned into something much more real--a Savior and Lord.

Who are your heroes?

Sunset on Sabbatical

Sabbatical has ended, and I am officially sitting at my Bethel computer. It has been a wonderful three months. As the time away for refreshment and learning has come to an end, I have reflected on those months. I have come away with three major learnings, none of which will probably surprise you.

1) God has created a world of wonders. Kathy and I had the chance to travel widely in these months. We visited Florida for a couple of days prior to a short Caribbean cruise. A ten day trip to Israel was a highlight of the summer.
Twice we visited the summer home of my sister, Carolyn (the sunset picture is a view from her home at Ham Lake near Park Rapids, MN). Napa Valley and San Francisco were home base for a week. A weekend trip to Chicago helped to prepare for the wedding of our son, Chris, to Michelle this fall. And we finally made the trip to Door County, Wisconsin, staying at Little Sweden outside of Fish Creek for a week. I cannot begin to list the many experiences we had in these various places. I can only tell you that God's world is a marvel.

2) Family is a blessing. Kathy had some doubts that we could co-exist in a house (even with extensive travel) for an entire summer. I guess I can be pretty intense. But she was an excellent partner in all that we did. I am blessed with her presence for more than 36 years now. The birth of our second grandchild in July is an incomparable blessing--all life makes other blessings seem small. Joren grows in leaps and bounds these early weeks. We have had opportunities to spend time with all three of our children and their families at various places (Ham Lake, Little Sweden, Chicago). It is a great joy to be with them. It was good and reminiscent to spend a couple of weeks with my sister. And we have had even more time with our first grandchild, Jarek. My sister says that I am "smitten" with him. She is right. He will never remember this summer, but I will cherish it forever.

3) Bethel is the place I want to be. Kathy and I worshiped at many wonderful places this summer (including the Great Synagogue in Jerusalem). The churches were near and far, big and small. Most of the time the services were very good to excellent. Out of the 13 Sundays in those three months, we were away from Bethel for 12. The exception was the Sunday after Joren's birth when we had much family in town, and we all wanted to worship together. It would be at Bethel. And that is the best Sunday we had amongst the 13. It was a time of coming together with friends--people with whom we have celebrated and cried. It was the familiar and good voices coming from the pulpit and the pew. It was home.

So it is from home that I am composing this blog today--my work and church home. It is good to be back. The sun has set on sabbatical. The sun is rising in so many new ways.

Don't Jump?

Cave Point Park in Door County is worth the drive and time to get there (and it is free!). As we explored the first bit of the park, we saw three young men in swimming trunks standing at the precipice of an abyss yet unknown to us. Drawing closer to the edge, we could see a pool of water provided by Lake Michigan.

Amazingly, we also saw one of the young men do a somersault into the shallow pool about 18 feet below. As he stood after the plunge, I could see that the water was a mere 3.5 feet deep! As well, there were rocks in that clear water. If the jumper misjudged, a rock could clearly ruin his day (week, year, life...). Additionally, there was another pool of water surrounded by underwater boulders a bit farther out to sea that required a leap. One of the jumpers preferred this landing spot.

Of course, that brought me back to my first attempt at a sabbatical eight years ago when I jumped off a 35 foot cliff into the Colorado River and broke three vertebrae. Thankfully that only ruined my summer and not my life. As I peered over the edge of this 18 foot drop, Kathy said, "Don't even think about it." And I thought about all the people who, humorously, told me before going on sabbatical not to jump off any cliffs this time.

So I didn't. I climbed down some rocks to the edge of Lake Michigan and was rewarded with all varieties of coastline--caves, boulders, sand--different around every corner. Now it is only five days to the end of my sabbatical, and I have only to survive a long weekend at my sister's lake home in northern Minnesota.

Don't jump. But we do. I recall Peter stepping out onto the Sea of Galilee. It was a leap of faith. Abraham and Sarah's jump from a secure home to wandering towards an unknown home is well documented in the Bible. As a teenager, Mary, mother of Lord, needed a huge leap of faith in her journey to motherhood.

Are we still jumping into sometimes turbulent water in our journey of faith? Sometimes the water seems too shallow, other times too dark and deep. Do rocks surround the safe pool of water in which to land? Are the risks too great?

The risks are too great for some. They would rather rely on their own strengths. Someday, however, the strengths of any one person will erode. What we need is a pool of faith. We know who can provide that. "For by grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, lest anyone should boast."

Join in the water--sometimes turbulent water, sometimes as graceful as the waters of baptism. It is a great swim...

A Clarion Call

The nurse who drew my blood this morning at the Mayo Blood Donor suite was looking for some kind of sign today. She prayed that God would send some Christian her way.

As is common during a blood draw, the donor and nurse often visit about weather, sports, family, jobs, and more. She asked what I did for a living. I told her I was a pastor at Bethel Lutheran Church. She said, "Oh, I was just there last night." "What brought you to Bethel?" I asked. She responded, "It was my first time at Beginning Experience. Beginning Experience is a support group for people who have lost a spouse through death, divorce, or separation. It was clear this nurse had lost her husband to death--a huge loss--and her faith was important to her. She is grateful for the good Christian man who leads BE at Bethel.

During the blood draw we talked about matters of faith, and, particularly for her, how faith can help us through the difficult times in life. She must have thanked me five times for coming to donate blood on this day of all days, and for being a Christian. She was looking for a beacon of light in a world shrouded with grief.

Or maybe she was waiting to hear that clarion call of faith. Christians, and especially Lutherans, can be quiet about our faith, not wanting to "push" it on others. Sometimes we miss opportunities to clearly sound the bell.

The picture you see here is of the bell recently installed with a bell tower on the west lawn at Bethel. Most people will never notice the four figures at the top of the bell--a kind of humanization of the bell--this bell is alive! This bell will sound in the neighborhood calling people to worship and to faith. There is no uncertainty--the only reason for the bell is to remind people of our faith in Christ.

It is a clear, clarion call. It was good to be a little bell this morning reclining on a blood donor chair. It is good that we use as many avenues as possible, including a brass bell, to tell the story.

"Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
`God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men.'"

A Journey

Ah, the cable cars were great fun. We knew that they were not the most efficient means of getting around San Francisco, but we really wanted to ride the famed cars. The lines were long, both to buy a one day pass and to get on the first car. But a local showed us a shortcut that we used throughout the day.

Though we had looked at maps, what we didn't realize is that there are only three cable car routes, and two of them parallel one another, starting at the same spot and ending up just a few blocks from one another near Fisherman's Wharf. So it clearly isn't the most efficient way to get around San Francisco. Many waits, some full cars so more waiting until the next one, and limited coverage of the city. So why do thousands upon thousands buy rides every day? It is all about the journey and having fun on the journey.

Kathy and I enjoyed most hanging off the sides of the cars--one gets to see more, and there is a thrill in the experience. One meets interesting people waiting in line or trading short conversations on the car. Most interesting was a Scottish policeman who is a huge Seattle Seahawks fan (I was wearing a Vikings sweatshirt--see below for blog on cold!). He wondered if Favre would be back this fall (pronounced "fa-vray" by this Scot). He said that he was coming to a game in Washington DC, not this season but the season of 2011 when the Seahawks are scheduled against a good friend's team, the Redskins, in DC. (I wonder what Kathy would say if I told her I was going to London one weekend for a game. Actually, I don't wonder...)

The cable car bells were constantly clanging. We stopped in the middle of intersections to let people on and off (the only level spots on many roads). We plunged down steep hills with the brake man yanking as hard as he could on the mechanism in the rear. We actually spent more time riding the cars that day than we did seeing the sights.

And it was worth it. Because it was the journey.

We are all on a journey. Very often it isn't the most efficient journey. And sometimes it doesn't even seem to take us the places we would rather go. For Christians that journey is most clearly stated by Jesus, "I am the way..." That way differs a bit for every Christian. No one will ever take the same exact route on the cable cars that Kathy and I did (if only because I got on one going the wrong way for a long block, and we walked straight up three blocks to a different line--and I do mean straight up, on that San Francisco hill). But the cable cars eventually end up in one spot. That spot in our Christian journey is Christ.

Wherever your journey takes you this day--even if it is never to leave home--may that journey include a conversation with a new or old friend. May that journey find its beginning and end in Christ.

Mark Twain...Alcatraz...Golden Gate Bridge

Mark Twain is reported to have said, "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco." Can we have an "Amen" to that?

A day of seeing many sights of San Francisco in weather befitting late October in Minnesota left Kathy and me chilled to the bone. At the southern edge of the Golden Gate Bridge we offered to take a picture of a couple and asked the same favor in return. As we were both reviewing our digital images, one of them asked where we were from. We answered, "Minnesota, and even though it is known as being a cold place, we would never dress like this in August", pointing to our many-layered look for the day. The man laughed and said, "Yes, we are from a cold place, too--Austria--and it is never like this in the summer.

But the coolness of the day was nothing compared to the stark frigidity of a major exploration of the day--a trip to Alcatraz Island which served as the most secure federal prison for about thirty years, ending in 1963.

As we exchanged our e-tickets for real ones, we noticed that the trips to Alcatraz were sold out for today...and for the next seven days! One could not buy a ticket for the next eight days! It occurred to me that there is something odd about the fact that thousands of us were so anxious to get to a place that, 50 years ago, people would have dreaded, making that trip to an isolated island in the middle of San Francisco Bay. Why are we so interested in seeing a place of imprisonment for the likes of Al Capone and the Birdman from Alcatraz?

The cell blocks were cold and uninviting. Alcatraz was a place of punishment, not of rehabilitation or redemption. There is not one confirmed escape from the place. It successfully locked people in its jaws and didn't let go.

The sounds like a description of sin--a prison in which we all serve. And this prison seeks to lock us in it icy jaws--a perpetual winter of despair. But for God's people, the sun will shine, and the Son has risen. No matter how cold the day may be, we can be warmed by the sure and certain hope we have in Christ. No matter how bleak the situation may be, a new day in Christ erases the yesterdays of despair.

There is a Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco (even if we couldn't see the top half of it today for the cold fog). But there is a Golden Gate in a greater kingdom--ready to open wide for brothers and sisters in Christ