Forgiveness--the Power of Tears and Words

 Recently I had the privilege of teaching the fifth petition to the Lord's Prayer to our confirmation students.  "Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us."  Looking for resources that 7th-9th graders could enjoy, I came across this clip on youtube.  It is powerful.  Take a look.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iv50xrsFNdU

I have been forgiven, and I have offered forgiveness.  Never have I found myself in the depths this young man portrayed with his father.  Likely I have never known the remorse of the man weeping behind an insurmountable barrier.

As Christ offered forgiveness from the cross, even to those who were taking his life, did tears stream down his face?  Do tears help to cleanse our spirits as we receive the great, good news of God's forgiveness?  We don't deserve it, but it is ours.  That is the definition of grace.

Shed For You

During the serving of communion today, my eyes were drawn to the floor just to my right.  I am disappointed that after each of our two services I got busy with people and forgot to take a picture.

If I had taken a picture, you would have seen a three inch strip of wood at the edge of the first carpeted step.  Directly in the middle of that strip of wood was a splash of red wine, glistening in the light.  It was almost as if someone had purposefully placed the wine there.

It did serve some purpose.  In a few weeks (March 9) we will enter the season of Lent.  In that season we focus on Christ's journey to the cross.  On Good Friday we note with both dismay and awe his sacrifice, even the spilling of blood.

This morning I was transported to that place as I was serving communion.  "The blood of Christ shed for you."  "The blood of Christ shed for you."  "The blood of Christ shed for you."  Over and over, to all the worshipers.  And next to me was the spilling of the wine--the blood of Christ in, with, and under.

I wish had taken a picture.  But maybe these words can transport you, too.  Christ--one who came for you in love and grace.

Orchestra...Cross...Light

It was a busy Saturday morning at the church.  There was a nice gathering of new members enjoying a five hour seminar about the church and faith, coming to know each other, and delighting in food with one another.

A group of women were in a room across the hallway from my office in a monthly Bible study.  They, too, had coffee and refreshments.

Outside of my office the other direction a wonderful group of musicians had gathered--the Southeastern Minnesota Youth Orchestra.  They were preparing for a concert they would perform at Bethel the next day.

While I had much to do that morning, including three different stints with the new member group, I was compelled by the music that beckoned from beyond my office window.  Eventually I had to give up and go into the sanctuary to enjoy the skill of these young musicians.  The scores of strings and woodwinds and brass and percussion filled the chancel.  More than that, their sound filled the room with vibrancy.

As I watched the orchestra, I was taken by the light of the cross that streamed over them.  When Bethel built this sanctuary in 2004, we wanted everyone who came into this place to know of our faith.  A dominating cross (moved from our former sanctuary) would never let us forget who we are and would serve as a powerful witness to the community.

Did this entire orchestra know that they were basking in the light of the cross?  Would every concert attender notice it the next day?  Probably not.  But some would surely notice.  The love of the cross.  The light of the world.  Grace.

From Where will the Wood Come?

The bracelets made by the Nicaraguan carpenter were beautiful, as were the earrings and rings.  They were turned from native Nicaraguan wood--wood that is in very short supply due to deforestation.  In fact, the carpenter can get no more wood since it is illegal for citizens to cut down any more trees.

That which you see in the second picture is a part of the small stock of wood that the carpenter believes will last him another two years--if he is a careful steward of what he has.  He doesn't make tables or dressers--nothing of any size.  He needs to make small items so that his wood will last longer.

I told him I was a carpenter and made furniture.  He wondered what wood I used.  He was as unfamiliar with my red oak and walnut as I was unfamiliar with his native woods.  I almost felt bad telling him that I make bedroom furniture and bookcases and high chairs for grandchildren.  I use a lot of wood.  I even bought an entire used white oak wine barrel from Napa Valley, California, so that I could make interesting objects from the slats.

What will he do in two years when he runs out of wood, I asked.  He shrugged his shoulders.  He would find something.  He was just glad that we from the USA were there to hear his story, see his skill, and buy his reasonably priced wares.  Half the population of Nicaragua lives on less than $2 a day.  The bracelets, so beautiful, were only $3.  I bought four.  He was so grateful.

The human spirit is an amazing thing.  Even when faced with scarcity, one carpenter shows great gratitude.  He is a good steward of all that God has given him.

Silliness--Bulls and Lutefisk

 While in Nicaragua we visited artisans in their place of work.  Two of them were in Masaya, just outside Managua.

As we came over a little rise, we suddenly saw hundreds of people in the street a couple blocks away which would have prevented us from moving.  We could not hear what they were chanting, but it was clear we were going nowhere.  I will admit to a fleeting moment of fear with the unrest that we see in the world.

Suddenly, the crowd started rushing towards the bus, still chanting.  We pulled over as far as we could.  They ran right by the bus, and after a few dozen people, there was a skinny bull in the midst of them.  We laughed--a poor man's rendition of the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain.  Our Nicaraguan host laughed. Oh, we have just encountered a bit of the festival of San Sebastian.  While this was January 18, the Church of Saint Sebastian in Masaya leads up to the festival with some "silliness" according to our host, since Saint Sebastian is actually feted in the church on January 20.

That would include a "running of the sick bull",  I guess.  People were celebrating the festival; celebrating their church, celebrating the faith.  The hundreds continued to march and run--a parade that even included a few instruments.

Silliness.  I like that.  We have silliness in our USA churches, too.  Lutherans are known for lutefisk and lefse and red jello.  They have nothing to do with the way we live out our faith.  (In fact, there hasn't been any lutefisk or red jello at Bethel in years.  Lefse, on the other hand...)  They simply represent a bit of our history and the way we live out in community.

I suspect that we won't be running after a bull in the streets of Rochester any time soon.  But it was fun to celebrate faith with the people of Nicaragua--even if it was from a bus.  May some silliness invade your faith life as you continue to be a fool for Christ.

Catch a Nicaraguan Ride!

It was a privilege to spend four days in Nicaragua at Augsburg College's Center for Global Education.  The fourteen of us--sometimes one, two, or  a few more--rode to our meetings with officials, leaders, peasants, and educators in a comfortable, small bus.

The assortment of vehicles on the road was astounding.  We saw a few semis.  The public transportation system is mostly old American school buses (I am assuming Little Rock School District is in Arkansas, not Managua).  Lots of cars and lot of motorcycles and scooters.  There were bicycles trying to carve out room on narrow, sometimes rutted roads. 

And then there were the animal drawn vehicles like the one in this picture.  They might be pulled by mules, horses, or oxen.  All of these vehicles were sharing Nicaraguan roads and highways.  They have figured out how to merge fast vehicles with slow moving ones.  One of the school bus/public transportation buses had a bed on top of it.  If one doesn't have a vehicle, it is the only way to get it home from market!

A poor country, Nicaragua, it has been suggested, could be termed a fourth- or fifth-world country rather than a third-world country.  In spite of, or because of the poverty, there are plenty of ways to catch a ride.

But the best ride of all is the spirit of the people.  While most USA citizens would probably fold in the face of the issues confronted by Nicaraguans, the people there are almost universally focused on the future and how to improve education, the economy, and living standards.  Their sense of hope was remarkable.  We in the USA could learn much from them.  Politically, militarily, and economically, they have been pummeled for decades.  Yet, a certain grace emanates from them.

The last horse drawn vehicle I traveled in was a buggy through Central Park in New York City.  How different, yet graceful, the horse drawn vehicle in Nicaragua--a glimpse of grace.

Welcome Home, John M. Kowalski

The family was gathering at the Gate H3B in O'Hare Airport, Chicago.  The plane was late in arriving.  Somehow, they got passes to come to the gate to welcome home a loved one.

The plane was slow in unloading.  They asked a passenger if there was still a uniformed man on board.  The passenger said, "Yes, he should be through the door soon."

I have no idea who John M. Kowalski is, where he came from to get to Chicago, or if he has yet to serve longer in the military.  I can tell you this.  He is loved.

This family exuberantly welcomed home their son, brother, nephew.  Tears flowed.  Hugs all around.  Balloons and signs.  It was joyous.  John M. Kowalski doesn't know me either.  But when his family saw me taking his picture, he turned around and gave me a thumbs up, wanting to share his joy.

I was at the O'Hare Airport coming home from a trip to Nicaragua with the Augsburg College Board of Regents.  At about 2pm, I left 85 degrees in Managua.  Somehow, God had misplaced 102 degrees somewhere along the way, and it was 17 below when I pulled into the garage at 2:30am.

The picture to the right is the first thing I saw when I walked through the door.  I laughed out loud.  Two more signs were awaiting me in the kitchen.

Home.  It is good to be home and loved--no matter what the temperature.

In John 14 we read that Jesus is making a home, a dwelling place, a mansion for his sisters and brothers.  Jesus tells us that we know the way to that home, because Jesus himself is the way.  How many people have I, as a pastor, reassured with these words over a lifetime in the ministry?  And those words are no less true today than when they were spoken 2000 years ago.

John M. Kowalski received a wonderful welcome home, as did I.  We do, however, have an eternal welcome coming in Christ.  Will there be a sign welcoming us?  I don't know.  I do know this:  "This will be a sign for you--you will find a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger."  That sign is the light of the world--the way, the truth, and the life.