Joy, Joy, Joy

Scores of us had just finished a conference in Palm Springs, California.  (Really, why do we have conferences when it is 100 degrees in California and a beautiful 75 degrees in Minnesota?)

The car in the picture left the conference hotel parking lot the same time as I.  This pastor waved at me with the biggest smile.  We were both headed to airports to fly home.

He was driving a convertible.  I was driving a well used Toyota Corolla with 85,000 miles and the scent of pine wafting through the air.  That's okay.  I had chosen the cheapest rental I could find.  I probably should have looked beyond Oftentimes Successful Car Rental.  But it worked for me.

Back to the convertible.  At the first light I caught up to him.  He was bebopping to the music from his car stereo.  He was enjoying the 100 degree sunlight with the top down.  I suspect he splurged to rent a convertible since we pastors don't drive convertibles as a rule.  Especially in Minnesota.

It was just pure joy.  He had come from a good conference.  He had the world by the tail in his red convertible.  And he was going home to people he loved.

Joy, joy, joy.  The whole world could see his joy, and he shared it.

I hope I didn't look grumpy in my Toyota.  I have joy to share, too.  It is the best news of all.  Better than a convertible on a hot day.  Better than air conditioning with a pine scent.  This joy has to do with a Good Shepherd who goes with us everywhere--one who gives us joy, joy, joy, joy down in our hearts.

The Pen

Last Friday I conducted a funeral for my cousin, Sherman.  More than fourteen years separated us in age, and he was always one of the "big cousins" to which we younger ones looked up when we went to family occasions.

We had both chosen to be pastors in the Lutheran church.  As God's blessings would have it, we ended up in the same town, Rochester, MN, for a time at sister churches.  Sherman was a great pastor and a great mentor.  The grace of Jesus Christ was always on his heart and lips.  I was privileged to learn much in his presence.

At his retirement, Sherman needed to choose a church other than his own for worship.  I was humbled and grateful that he and Rachel decided to join Bethel.  These last ten years have been wonderful in singing and worshiping together frequently.  We also worked on stewardship and educational opportunities.  Sometimes he would grace me with some wisdom that would benefit the congregation.

And one Christmas he gave me a pen.  Inscribed on the barrel is Jeremiah 17:7:  "Blessed are those who trust in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD."

I love pens.  Some of my pens are 25 or 30 years old.  Those I cherish I alternate carrying in my pocket.  The morning of Sherman's funeral, I was carrying his pen in my pocket.  I was underlining a passage in the Gospel reading we would use at his funeral, and it ran out of ink.  I scribbled with it to get it going, but it was out of ink.

The pen died on the day of Sherman's funeral.  I decided I would still carry it in his honor through the day.

Later, without thinking, I took the pen out of my pocket to write something--and it was restored in its ability to write.  With I smile on my face, I thought of resurrection.  The pen had died, and now lives again.  That was a much more important message during a funeral an hour or two prior.

Jesus never told a parable about pens.  Maybe this one would do.

When Darth Vader Came to Church

It came as a surprise to me, too.  My colleague before Christmas was doing a children's word and got the children excited by telling them that someone was coming to Bethel!  Someone was coming to Bethel!

Of course, in December, the universal response to that announcement is Jesus in the manger.

Not this day.  The organist began playing the "Imperial March", and peoples' heads started to twist in the sanctuary.  Soon there were gasps.  A Storm Trooper came into view from the rear of the sanctuary.

The Storm Trooper had a message for the pastor. Someone was coming to Bethel.  She relayed that excitement to the children!  Surely the answer this time would be Jesus.

Not this day.  The organist played the "Imperial March" again.  And greater gasps marked the entrance of a huge Darth Vader!  With his deep and digitized voice, Darth Vader informed that there was a force greater than Star Wars, and that force was going to come to Bethel and all churches.

Genius.  My colleague is a genius.  I pray that children may never forget the force that defies time.  He is the force for all ages.  Finally, Jesus was the right answer.

Amazing what happens when Darth Vader comes to church.

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.

Still has Shrapnel in His Body

Tonight's news reveals that the second Boston Marathon Bomber has been captured alive.  Residents in the area immediately surrounding the capture site cheer the officers and emergency personnel who have brought a sad chapter to an end.  People of Boston breathe more freely tonight, even though the carnage of Monday hasn't changed, and there will be an exhaustive investigation as to how these two young men could possibly gain anything by killing some people and injuring hundreds of others.

Through the course of these last four days we have heard a certain resolve from the people of Boston and from an entire country.  Unlike some other tragedies, this one galvanized the will of a people.  More than once I have read or heard people say that forces of evil will not win.

They cannot win.

A few years ago I traveled in Israel for ten days with Shimshon, an Israeli who carried shrapnel in his  body from a suicide bomber twenty years ago.  He happened to be on a bus when the bomber performed his deadly act.  Some on the bus died.  Shimshon survived and vowed that, to his dying breath, he would fight those forces of evil.

The bomber failed miserably in his attempt to frighten a people into submission.  Conversely, it caused one man to step up to the plate in a new way.  Metal fragments cause him pain from time to time, but they also motivate him to tell the truth as he knows it to anyone who will listen.

Evil did not win in Jerusalem that day.  Evil did not win in Boston on Monday.  Instead, the forces of good come together to defeat evil.  Oh, evil will win a battle from time to time, but it will not win the war.  That war has already been won in Christ whose wounds are those of victory.

Prayers for Peace

Did the person or persons responsible for the bombings in Boston today know they would kill an eight year old?  Would it have made a difference?

Certainly that knowledge did not make a difference in the Sandy Hook tragedy in which the shooter took direct aim at young children (and adults, too).

What kind of evil possesses a person to take lives as if life has no value?  This is not something new.  It has been happening since the beginning of recorded history.  Those familiar with the Bible know that very early on a brother killed brother out of jealousy.

Ultimately in this world there is no answer for this kind of evil.  Each generation deals with its mass killings or bombings or acts of hate.  Each time we pray it will be the last.  It won't be.  It won't because of  the evil that lurks in this world.

We are in the season of Easter proclaiming life and new life.  We do not give in to evil but proclaim final victory over death and evil.  Those without conscience can rob us of almost anything in this world, but they cannot take faith and hope.  They cannot take the sure and certain hope of resurrection to eternal life.

And so we pray.  God in heaven, bring peace to a troubled world.  Bring comfort to those who have suffered loss.  Bring soundness of mind and spirit to all.  In the name of the one who looked evil in the face and won the battle for us, Jesus Christ, we pray.  Amen.