Blog

By Pastor Wondimu Sonessa

Life is sometimes like a pendulum. It swings back and forth between our past experiences and new encounters in our daily life. Once a force is exerted on it and sets the pendulum in motion, it continues to move back and forth with a constant time interval. Both friction and the pivot point of the pendulum contribute significantly to slow down the motion and eventually bring it back to stability.

But a Christian life is not exactly like a pendulum. To follow Jesus is not an easy decision to make even after hearing the voice that invites us. Of course, those of us who were born to a Christian family were instructed and raised in the church. We may remember our Sunday school teachers whose advice and exemplary life shaped our faith journey. But some of us were born and raised in the context of religious pluralism, where Christian faith and the church are the outcome of the gospel preached by missionaries.

In this blog, I reflect on the lasting influence of the first encounter with Jesus on Christian life.

WHETHER WE WERE born to Christian parents or converted to Christianity, we share a common estrangement characterizing humanity and the need for a heavenly voice that realigns our life with God. What makes our testimonies so inspiring is not how young or old we were when we became Christians. It is instead that we became who we are as Christians only because of the first encounter with Jesus through the proclamation of the Word and the Sacrament of Baptism.

“Whether we were born to Christian parents or converted to Christianity, we share a common estrangement.”

Let me illustrate this with a brief reflection on the Apostle Paul’s testimony regarding the difference between his pre-conversion life and new life in Christ (Acts 22:1-22). Paul maintains to narrate the experience of his conversion in which he portrays his encounter with Jesus Christ as a “great light” shining upon him and the voice from heaven speaking to him.

Consequently, Paul didn‘t just fall to the ground, but he also lost his sight. When he realized that it was Jesus of Nazareth who was speaking to him, he confessed that Jesus is “Lord” and agreed to go as directed and do everything that has been assigned to him. In his missionary endeavor Paul describes what happened to him as “knowing Christ” – the knowledge that helped him to regard his former gains as “rubbish” and loss (Philemon 3:7-10). This is the lasting impact of his first encounter with Jesus.

A GENUINE CONVERSION experience involves letting go of human perspective that doesn’t align with God’s will and receiving divine power to confess the lordship of Jesus. The common confession of faith in Christ makes us siblings who address each other as brothers and sister. Conversion is, therefore, a concrete spiritual experience in which the persecutors and victims receive new insight that enables them to trust and embrace each other as a beloved community. And that first encounter not only marks the starting point of our faith journey, but also has the lasting power to enable us to be the followers and witnesses of Christ in all circumstances.

Because of the lasting influence of the first encounter and the sanctifying companionship of the Holy Spirit, the Christian life of discipleship cannot swing back to its old practices. It rather counts them as “rubbish” and loss.

This doesn’t mean that our old life is completely deleted from our memory. We may look back and speak of our conversion experiences which, in most cases, involve contrasting the new life of faith with the old pre-conversion life. We always remember how desperate life without Jesus was and give thanks for the grace and mercy with which God has accepted us.

“A genuine conversion experience involves letting go of human perspective that doesn’t align with God’s will.”

There are also times when we feel guilty about the way we thought, acted, and treated people hurtfully. Paul himself struggled with guilty conscience stemming from his pre-conversion life and practice of persecuting believers in Jesus, including taking part in the killing of Stephen. Fortunately, neither the old Paul nor his experience was crucial to the work ahead of him. Paul’s encounter with Christ has changed him but the religious system he was committed to serve continued to persecute the followers of Christ.

What matters greatly is that Paul parted with his privileged social status. Because of knowing Christ, who commanded him saying, “Go, for I will send you far away to the Gentiles” (Acts 22:21), he became a target of the ongoing persecution. The proclamation of the Word to the Gentiles requires a new person with a clear conscience before God. The newness that sets our conscience free from the past is the fruit of that first justifying encounter with Christ.

The new life of faith is neither our old self nor an enhanced version of it, but it is Christ himself living in us and constantly sending us to the marginalized, the oppressed, and disadvantaged in society. We trust in the lasting company of the Holy Spirit in all this.

By Pastor Craig Pederson

Peter began to speak to [the people]: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. …  All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”
— Acts 10: 34-35, 43

The granular, expansive, inclusive nature of Resurrection amazes me the older I get.

The granularity comes when I consider how every individual, beloved child of God experiences Resurrection in their own unique time, circumstance, and setting. The expansiveness comes as I ponder how Resurrection has been received and celebrated by God’s people, God’s creatures, and God’s creation for over two millennia. The inclusivity strikes me when I witness the incredible variety of faith communities that gather on Easter morning to proclaim the good news that out of death comes new life.

“Every individual, beloved child of God experiences Resurrection in their own unique time, circumstance, and setting.”

The gift of travel reminds us of the diversity of God’s people, creatures, and creation. My wife Lisa, our daughter Nora, and I returned last week from a spring break trip to the desert Southwest – a destination where we had not traveled before. We spent three days in Phoenix, then another four days in the Palms Springs, California area.

Desert Botanical Garden, Phoenix

While there, we had a kind of early Resurrection experience: It rained in both places! Fortunately for us, it was only one day in each location (but not fortunate for those areas thirsty for precipitation).

Rain, like Resurrection, shows no partiality.

AFTER THE RAIN, the desert produces some of the most amazing scents and scenes imaginable. Plants and flowers seemed to pulsate as they absorbed moisture from the air and land. Cacti puffed up to drink in the water and store it until the next rainfall. Soil that lay dry for weeks smelled both sweet and stinky at the same time, as if confused about what to do with this unscheduled blessing.

Snow-laden tree in Northeast Minneapolis

That short stint of rain kicked God’s people into gear as well. Work crews speedily covered construction areas that were not designed to deal with rain, then just as speedily uncovered them to allow the sun to help dry things out. Roofers, gardeners, and landscapers received a short break, then accelerated their pace to make up for lost time and to respond to the spurt of growth produced by this liquid infusion.

They were working hard. I hope they – like the creation they were tending – experienced Resurrectin this Easter.

“We returned home just in time to be greeted by another precipitation event: Eight inches of heavy snow with a two-inch rain chaser.”

SpaceX satellite launch over the San Jacinto Mountains

We returned home just in time to be greeted by another precipitation event: Eight inches of heavy snow with a two-inch rain chaser. It was a harsh transition for our spring break-spoiled selves, but those were inches of new life for a moisture-starved landscape.

From the immediacy and intimacy of our personal lives to the cosmic expanse of time, Creation longs for Resurrection. Thanks be to God that Christ is Risen! He is Risen indeed! Alleluia!

By Pastor John Hulden

I got out voted. Again.

First it was a golden retriever named Addey. All four of our kids, along with my wife Becky, used democracy to their advantage for a dog to enter our family home. It was fine. She was “a good dog” and very laid back. Then, after Addey died, not too long after, another family vote didn’t go my way. This time it was not for one dog, but two! We added two rambunctious black labs: Thunder and Lightning.

Addey with Jens in Moorhead

“I suppose I’m not a pet guy because I never had dogs or cats growing up.”

Okay, I have a confession about pets and me. Some of my loved ones accuse me of being deficient in some way, or uncaring, because I’m just not a pet guy. As is borne out by early voting trends, the rest of my family likes pets. Our two oldest adult kids each have a dog. Our two youngest adult kids have cats.

I suppose I’m not a pet guy because I never had dogs or cats growing up. I had a goldfish, once – brought home in a little plastic bag of water – but that was short lived, literally. I also, yes, had a little turtle. But again, that was short lived – and stinky. Once my turtle escaped, somehow, and my mom found it climbing out of her purse in the checkout line at the grocery store. Or maybe my seven-year-old imagination dreamed that it happened that way. There are not many heart-warming pet stories for me growing up.

IT WAS THE SPRING when the two new black labs came to our house, and Thunder and Lightning hit the ground running and running and running. Our back yard was instantly muddy – thanks to those pups’ huge paws that wrecked all the lawn that was trying to come back after a long Moorhead winter.

Under the guise of “it would be good for Thunder and Lightning,” we constructed a dog park in a big section of our backyard. We added many tons of pea gravel, climbing platforms made from throw away lumber from Menards, a picket fence, and a dog run to the garage into a kennel. Of course, my family knew this project was to appease me. At least a small section of backyard would have green grass and be free of Thunder and Lightning strikes, … that is, poop.

“On a Good Friday afternoon – between worship services – I grabbed a bucket and the pooper scooper and went to work.”

Lightning in the dog park

Usually by Holy Week, the snow in the back yard would be melting (unlike this past week when winter snows arrived after weeks of spring weather). You can guess what was revealed in our backyard dog park after a very long winter. The aptly named pea gravel was full of poop.

On a Good Friday afternoon – between worship services – I grabbed a bucket and the pooper scooper and went to work. For some reason once I started, I wasn’t the bitter dad who grumped about doing something my kids should have been doing.  And that really surprised me. It felt good to do something solitary, helpful, and earthy on a Good Friday afternoon. Every subsequent Good Friday I’d go out with my bucket to take care of the Thunder and Lightning strikes.

Why do I tell you this? I’m not entirely sure, but I’ll leave you with this:

May your Holy Week be full of stories, images, memories, emotions, prayers, music, meaning, quiet, community, and helpful preparations, … as we all come together at the end of this holiest of weeks to hear the best sacrificial and surprising love story ever lived or told.

By Manny Lewis

In our quest for justice and order, we’ve implemented systems that, while intended to protect the community, can sometimes wreak havoc on the lives of the very individuals they are meant to serve. The cash bail system is a glaring example of such an unintended consequence, particularly for underprivileged families. In this blog, we will explore the multifaceted repercussions of cash bail, focusing on a hypothetical scenario that illustrates its profound impact on a family teetering on the edge of economic stability. Through this lens, we will see how this system can reverse the work of creating a compassionate society, one that some may see as reflective of God’s intention for a just and caring world.

Cash Bail: A Primer

Before we delve into our story, let’s establish what cash bail is. It’s a system where a defendant is required to pay a set amount of money to secure release from jail pending trial. The amount is determined by a judge and is intended to guarantee the defendant’s appearance at future court dates. However, the ability to pay this amount is not evenly distributed across society, creating a chasm between those who can afford to buy their temporary freedom and those who cannot.

“The cash bail system, in its current form, is a mechanism that punishes people for being poor.”

A Case Study in Economic Precariousness

Imagine a man, the sole provider for his family, with a modest job and minimal savings. His life is already a tightrope walk over financial ruin when an argument with his partner leads to a domestic abuse charge. Arrested and unable to communicate with his employer, he is summarily fired after missing work without explanation, compounding his woes. In court, his bail is set at $70,000. To secure a bail bond, he must provide a non-refundable 10% ($7,000) to a bail bondsman, an amount far beyond his means. In desperation, his partner takes a predatory title loan on her car, but the high-interest rate is a ticking time bomb of debt.

The Consequences of Cash Bail

This man’s story is not unique. Cash bail disproportionately affects underprivileged families, who are often unable to afford the bail amount. Here are several ways in which cash bail can be detrimental:

1. Economic spiral: The inability to afford bail means that the accused remains incarcerated, unable to work and support their family. This loss of income can lead to evictions, food insecurity, and a cascade of other financial crises.
2. Family strain: With the primary breadwinner in jail, families are left to fend for themselves. Relationships strain under the weight of financial stress and the emotional toll of separation.
3. Cyclical poverty: To make bail, families may resort to desperate measures, like predatory loans, which can trap them in a cycle of debt and poverty from which it is incredibly difficult to escape.
4. Impact on employment: Job loss following an arrest can be devastating. Even if the charges are dropped or the individual is found not guilty, the damage to their employment prospects can be long-lasting.
5. Forced plea deals: Stuck in jail and desperate to return to their families, some may accept plea deals for crimes they didn’t commit, resulting in criminal records that further hinder their ability to secure employment and stable housing.
6. Mental health: The stress and anxiety of being trapped in a cycle of incarceration and financial instability can have severe mental health consequences not only for the detained individual, as well as for their family members. The uncertainty and powerlessness can lead to depression, anxiety, and trauma, particularly for children who are impacted by the absence of a parent.
7. Children’s well-being: Children are often the silent sufferers in these situations. They may experience disruptions to their education, social life, and overall sense of security. The long-term effects of parental incarceration on children can include educational setbacks, behavioral issues, and increased likelihood of future interactions with the criminal justice system.
8. Social marginalization: As families struggle with the stigma of arrest and incarceration, they may become isolated from their communities. This can result in a lack of social support and resources that are vital for overcoming difficult circumstances.
9. Housing instability: When rent cannot be paid because the primary earner is in jail, the risk of eviction increases. Housing instability can lead to homelessness or reliance on shelters, further destabilizing family life and children’s development.
10. Reversing God’s work: For those who view social justice through a religious lens, the cash bail system can be seen as antithetical to the teachings of compassion, mercy, and support for the less fortunate. It punishes the poor for their poverty, deepening inequality, and undermining efforts to create a society that reflects divine principles of fairness and assistance to those in need.

A Call or Reform

The case study we’ve explored is a microcosm of a systemic problem that calls for reform. The cash bail system, in its current form, is a mechanism that punishes people for being poor, further entrenching them in a cycle of poverty and legal entanglement. Bail reform efforts are gaining traction across the country, with some jurisdictions eliminating cash bail for non-violent offenses or implementing risk assessment tools to determine if defendants can be safely released without financial conditions. Reform advocates argue for a system that is more just and equitable, one that does not arbitrarily penalize individuals based on their economic status.

They propose alternatives such as:

• Pretrial services: Monitoring and support programs that help ensure individuals appear for court dates without the need for financial bail
• Community bail funds: Nonprofit organizations that use donated funds to pay bail for individuals who cannot afford it, allowing them to return to their families and jobs while awaiting trial
• Risk-based assessments: Using evidence-based methods to assess the risk of flight or re-offending, rather than using a one-size-fits-all financial bail system

Conclusion

The cash bail system, as it stands, is a machine of inadvertent oppression, disproportionately crushing underprivileged families under the weight of economic and social hardship. The story of our hypothetical protagonist is not just a narrative; it is a reality for many. To align our justice system with values of fairness and compassion, we must continue to advocate for bail reform and support alternatives that do not penalize poverty. In doing so, we move closer to a society that better reflects the ideals of support and rehabilitation, rather than punishment and exclusion.

To gain a profound insight into the realities within our community, I warmly welcome you to join me at Court Watch in partnership with the Minnesota Freedom Fund. This presents an invaluable opportunity to engage in our mission for justice by witnessing, documenting, and sharing experiences from the pretrial sentencing process. For those eager to learn more, please don’t hesitate to contact me via email at m.lewis@mpls-synod.org.

By Nicholas Tangen

Of soup and love, the first is best.
– Spanish Proverb

Lent is for me, the most wonderful time of the year. It’s the part of the church year where we don’t avoid the minor keys, where we face the reality of our own mortality and the power of the cross, and maybe most importantly, where it’s the season of soup.

Like many churches, my own congregation, Gustavus Adolphus Lutheran Church in Northeast Minneapolis, hosts soup suppers before Wednesday evening worship during Lent, with a handful of members volunteering to bring in a pot of soup to share each week. So far this Lent, I’ve had a wide variety of soups at these suppers, including Turkish Lentil, Potato Leek, several varieties of chili, Chicken Noodle, and many more.

Lenten suppers, and the soup often served at them, is a tradition dating back to the ancient church. Christians have long fasted during Lent, eating only at sundown, and allowed only bread, salt, vegetables, and water for the evening meal. There’s not too much you can make with those ingredients, except soup.

“Soup can be a comfort on cold evenings, a way to practice fasting as a spiritual discipline, and a catalyst for community building.”

In recent years many have thoughtfully pushed back on the practice of fasting, especially when it feeds into toxic moralizing about bodies, weight, and appearance. Fasting loses its spiritual dimension when it becomes attached to these dangerous ideas about body image.

But I am convinced that fasting continues to be a meaningful spiritual practice in the Christian life, as a way to expose ourselves to “… the distance between self-control and the compulsion to self-satisfaction,” as Sister Joan Chittister recounts. Practices of self-discipline like fasting allow us to face our own desires, to reflect on what is essential, and to be reminded of our dependence on the love of God.

LENTEN SOUP SUPPERS and their fare aid in the fast of the season by providing simple meals that stretch a few ingredients to feed a multitude. But more than that, create a space for the common table. Chittister in her book Wisdom Distilled from the Daily says: “At the common table, … we are taught self-control. There is only so much of the vegetables to go around. Everyone must get some. No one must take too much of anything. Nothing should be overcooked. Nothing should be wasted. Nothing that has been prepared for us should be rejected. Here, discipline and fasting are made real.”

Scripture is overflowing with stories centered on the common table. Just in the Newer Testament, we have stories like the feeding of the 5,000, the Wedding at Cana, and Jesus making breakfast on the beach for his friends. For the two friends on the Road to Emmaus, it’s not until gathered at the table that they realize they are in the presence of the Risen Christ. In fasting and the common table, we too open ourselves to the miracle of Christ’s presence in the face of our neighbor.

“Building community around the table confronts the epidemic of loneliness and isolation in our neighborhoods and builds the kind of social capital that contributes to the common good.”

In that spirit, my own congregation has extended an invitation to our neighbors to join us for our Lenten Soup Suppers and have been overjoyed to host and extend hospitality to a number of community members. The image of congregants and neighbors breaking bread, telling stories, and building community fills me with so much gratitude and so much joy. Building community around the table confronts the epidemic of loneliness and isolation in our neighborhoods and builds the kind of social capital that contributes to the common good. It’s a small representation of the feast of victory we’ll sing about on Easter morning.

Soup can be a comfort on cold evenings, a way to practice fasting as a spiritual discipline, and a catalyst for community building. It’s cheap and it’s easy to make. It’s a small, but powerful way to practice the presence of Jesus in community during Lent.

Here’s an old and simple recipe I’ve made often during Lent, from Twelve Months of Monastery Soups by Victor D’Avila-Latourrette:

St. Basil Soup

Ingredients

6 tablespoons of oil of your choice
1 large onion sliced
½ lb mushrooms, sliced
2 celery stalks, sliced
2 carrots, sliced
2 quarts of water
2 bouillon cubes of your choice
salt and pepper to taste
chopped parsley
(I’ve been known to add white beans as well.)

Directions

1. Wash and slice the veggies.
2. Pour oil into soup pot. Add the veggies and sauté for 2-3 minutes, stirring constantly.
3. Add the water and bouillon cubes. Cook the soup slowly in a covered pot over low heat for 30 minutes. Add salt and pepper and chopped parsley. Simmer the soup for ten minutes and serve hot.

By Pastor Wondimu Sonessa

At the age of 12, I had to travel on foot with my dad to our zonal capital called Mettu to get to a photo studio. This tiresome whole day commute was mandatory to submit four 3×4 photos required to register for sixth grade national exam.

I still remember mixed feelings stemming from that experience. On the one hand, it was such a joy to be one among hundreds of thousands Ethiopian sixth-graders who would sit for the exam at the end of the year. On the other hand, it was a devastating experience for a twelve-year-old child to travel the mountainous East African road in January, the hottest month of the year.

My dad and I started the journey early in the morning and travelled 53 kilometers (km) without seeing anyone traveling in the same direction. Finally, we came to a small town called Nopha where we stopped for lunch and to rest a while. I wish we spent a night there and continued the remaining 12 km the next day. But my dad was determined that we would arrive at our destination before it got dark.

“It is believed that getting someone to travel with you makes a long journey shorter.”

Therefore, we resumed our journey. As we were departing that small town, a man joined us. He greeted my dad and asked him whether we were going to Illubabor—which is the name of a zonal administration region where I come from. My dad confirmed. The man smiled and said, “So we are milto (miiltoo),” which is the Oromo term for a traveling company. He added, “As they say, two broken pieces are fixed on each other,” which is a popular saying by which strangers who meet on the road recognize each other as a traveling company or milto.

It is believed that getting someone to travel with you makes a long journey shorter. In fact, as travelers often take turn-to-tell stories, they get to their destination without feeling tired. Indeed, what was an enjoyable two-hour travel for the two adults was the scariest one dominated by a feeling of forgottenness and loneliness for me. My dad and his milto were walking too fast for me to catch up. As it was a market day, people returning from the market often blocked me from seeing my miltos; fear of strangers made the last hours of my day so horrible. My dad and his milto were intentional in this to keep me jogging behind them toward our destination.

AS WE WERE GETTING CLOSE to our destination, they slowed down so that I could catch up with them. As I was approaching them, I saw a big river on the right side of the street. As we together as milto were crossing over the bridge to the other side of the river, my dad told me that it is Sor River. I immediately remembered my social science class (maybe in fifth grade) where I learned about this river that provides electric power to the zonal capital called Mettu — our destination where there is the photo studio.

After the whole day of traveling on foot, we arrived at where I could see not just the river I heard about, but also the electric light it provides. I was filled with joy. Although I was very tired, I was eager to enter the city of Mettu and see how the light makes life easier for the city people at night.

Getting to the other side of the river, we turned to the right side of the bridge where we rested a while and washed our feet. Suddenly, our milto opened his bag and shared his snack with us, which strengthened me to walk up the hill and enter the city. Immediately, we visited a photo studio, and a photographer took my picture.

I FOUND IT INTERESTING to integrate this childhood experience of mine with the incident Luke narrates pertaining to the twelve-year-old Jesus traveling to Jerusalem with his parents for the annual festival of the Passover (Luke 2:41-51). When the festival was over, his parents started to return and traveled for a day without realizing that the boy Jesus stayed behind. They assumed that he was with “the group of travelers.”

The Greek Bible uses the term synodia (συνοδίᾳ), which means “a traveling company, group of travelers, caravan,” … or milto (if I am allowed to add). It is formed by combining the preposition syn (which means “with, together”) with a root word hodos (which means “way, journey”). The amalgamation of these two terms gives as the word synodos (synod), which denotes “a journeying together, a company of fellow-travelers.”

“Our gatherings for worship, conferences assemblies, synod assembly, and Churchwide assembly send out the message to the world that we are synodia together. We are partners on the road, the milto that share strengths and weaknesses.”

The Christian church refers to the union of its congregations as a synod, not just to rescue the biblical term but also to reclaim the spirit of belonging and togetherness that characterizes early Christianity. Today, the common faith and confession bring us together as synodia.

Our gatherings for worship, conferences assemblies, synod assembly, and Churchwide assembly send out the message to the world that we are synodia together. We are partners on the road, the milto that share strengths and weaknesses. A strong synod is the outcome of healthy relationships and well-connected congregations.

As milto/synodia, we are imperfect, the distorted image bearers, and the broken pieces which need to be fixed on each other. We are called to share our gifts, experiences, resources, and visions to reach our destination together. This may not require signing a covenant, but a slowing down and humble attitude of the mature and stronger ones among us in order that we be reachable and comfortable for others to travel with.

The younger ones are also expected to keep jogging to catch up so that God’s mission may progress forward without hindrance. Whenever we contribute to the expansion of God’s kingdom through sharing worship space, writing a check for mission support funding, being a fiscal agent for the new starts, committing to partner with the strategic ministries, engaging in ecofaith stories or faith and neighboring practices, we testify that we are the synodia.

By Pastor Craig Pederson

“Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’, into the future …”
               From the song, “Fly Like An Eagle,” Steve Miller Band, 1976

In the synod office these days, we are living a kind of dual existence: We staff members are fully immersed in the ministry areas to which we have been called, while we are also fully engaged in transition planning for the future. In fewer than three months, a new bishop will be elected to lead our synod into its next chapter of ministry in partnership with congregations and with ELCA Churchwide.

These are significant times! We are filled with gratitude for the relationships we have developed over the years. We are reflecting on goals achieved and others that remain unmet. We are evaluating our policies, procedures, and workloads to determine how they can best be transferred to a new bishop and staff so they can decide what to keep and what to let go.

“Seasons of change can open the imagination to new opportunities, but can also raise uncertainty about a clear path forward.”

And these are holy times. Each of us is attentive to our own baptismal callings in life and ministry, discerning how the Spirit of the Living God is abiding with us in the present and guiding us into our futures.

And these are exciting times! Mostly, that is – seasons of change can open the imagination to new opportunities, but can also raise uncertainty about a clear path forward.

RECENTLY, I ATTENDED a worship service where I sat behind a lovely family. The mom and dad were late-middle aged, and their adult son appeared to be cognitively impaired. The interaction between them was quite sweet. The young man was fidgety, but he found various ways to occupy himself when he lost focus on the worship experience.

One activity that held his attention was scrolling through the calendar app on his mom’s iPhone. I was close enough that I could see the numbers on the calendar as he rapidly swiped hundreds of years into the future. Then, all of a sudden, he pressed his finger firmly on the screen to stop the scrolling. He had landed on the year 3041! He proudly showed his mom, who looked at it a few seconds, then turned her attention back to worship.

The young man resumed his aggressive scrolling then stopped again – this time on the year 4264. I was amazed – 2,200 years into the future and the Apple calendar still looked the same as it does today! Apple is a dominant global company; … do they know something about the future that we don’t?

“It would be reassuring to scroll ahead on our calendars a few days – or a few millennia – to see what will be happening in our world.”

As he continued, I grew worried about how much longer this scrolling exercise could last. His mom appeared to feel that way as well as she motioned for him to hand her the phone. He refused, then went back to his rapid time travel into the future.

But soon his swiping slowed, then finally ground to a stop. The calendar ceased to respond to his swipes somewhere in the year 8,000, and it wouldn’t go any further. He set the phone aside and looked disappointed that his futuristic journey had been halted.

Again, I wondered if this was a sign of some sort of apocalyptic reprieve: If the Apple calendar doesn’t end until well into the 8^th millennium, does that mean we can chill out about the urgency of global warming, or concerns about starvation or overpopulation, or fear of mutually assured destruction between global military forces?

All kidding aside, it would be reassuring to scroll ahead on our calendars a few days – or a few millennia – to see what will be happening in our world. But we can’t do that. Instead, we entrust our present and our future to God.

IN THE MEANTIME, we would do well to heed the prophet Steve Miller (and later Seal) who sang:

I want to fly like an eagle
‘Til I’m free
Oh, Lord through the revolution.
Feed the babies
Who don’t have enough to eat
Shoe the children
With no shoes on their feet
House the people
Livin’ in the street
Oh, oh there’s a solution …

OK, neither Steve Miller nor Seal are canonical prophets of the Old Testament. But Isaiah is, and he wrote:

Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. …
But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
they shall walk and not faint. (Isaiah 40: 28, 31)

Time keeps on slippin’ into the future. Praise be to the God who promises to lead us and meet us there.

By Johan Baumeister

I am fond of spending time in canoes and on paddleboards, floating on the crisp waters of Minnesota. These waters reflect the natural beauty of our state and have long been gathering places. For countless generations, the waters of Mni Sota have been at the center of Dakota and Ojibwe lives, families, and communities.

The complex and often painful history of Minnesota is also reflected in these waters. I can’t do justice to the pain here; I can only acknowledge it.

“A deep understanding of local ecosystems and traditional land management techniques offer invaluable insights for sustainable resource management and conservation.”

Justice requires accountability that I cannot fully deliver. No one is responsible for actions they did not commit. But I can deliver my voice and my vote; I am accountable for those things. And as Scripture reminds us more than once, the truest reflection of God’s image calls us to repair those systems which are broken, to offer healing to those who need, and to lend our voice to calls for justice.

You might be scratching your head at this point, asking why the synod’s climate justice organizer is writing about Indigenous rights. That is a fair question and deserving of a good answer. We all know that colonization dispossessed Indigenous people of nearly the entirety of their traditional lands. These lands were often rich in biodiversity and crucial for environmental balance. Today, Indigenous communities are disproportionately impacted by climate and ecosystem changes.

And yet Indigenous knowledge and practices hold valuable solutions for climate mitigation and adaptation. A deep understanding of local ecosystems and traditional land management techniques offer invaluable insights for sustainable resource management and conservation.

Recognizing Indigenous rights to land, self-determination, and traditional knowledge is not only a matter of Indigenous justice; it is also essential for achieving a just and sustainable climate future for us all.

Who is in need of healing?

I believe that we are all in need of healing. All cultures and voices have intrinsic value and worth; one of the ways that historic oppression of Native Americans has harmed us is by suppressing culture and voice of First Nations peoples.

“Repair must be just.”

What has been lost is hard to quantify, and even harder to rebuild. I know from my own work that in learning more of Indigenous ways of knowing and ways of caring for the land, the environmental movement has benefitted from those voices. You can learn more about the process of healing and be invited into specific action by the ELCA’s Truth & Healing Movement.

How can we repair broken systems and lives?

Repair must be just. It needs to be as comprehensive as possible. And, most importantly, everyone must be represented at the table. Reservations were not created with the prosperity of their inhabitants in mind, nor were boarding schools built to preserve and honor Native culture. These systems were built around the perception that Indigenous people would be just fine, if they just weren’t so Indigenous.

So, instead of thinking of how to fix things for Indigenous communities, we can work with Indigenous communities to ensure future prosperity. I echo the 2022 Churchwide Assembly of the ELCA in its call to support creative efforts to restorative justice.

As the synod’s Congregational Organizer for Climate Justice, I know of one such opportunity here in Minnesota. Rise & Repair is an Indigenous-led coalition of climate justice and Indigenous rights groups. Check out its platform and 2024 legislation.

The EcoFaith Network has been a member of this coalition for two years now and we are eager to help equip Lutherans to faithfully express our shared values for justice. Please join me on Tuesday, March 11, at the State Capitol to rally for Rise & Repair and talk with your legislator about why it is important to you that they support Indigenous Rights and Climate Justice. (RSVP for Tuesday, March 11 event.

By Pastor John Hulden

Pastor Rusty Halaas (white suit jacket) on the stage of the youth gathering in Madison Square Garden in New York City in 1970.

Imagine you were given the task of dreaming up themes for a five-day event for 15,000 teenagers at a triennial ELCA Youth Gathering. Where would you turn in the scriptures? What phrase could work to grab and hold the attention of high school youth? Would they choose to wear that theme on T-shirts, water bottles, fanny packs, and more?

Thanks to my dad (Pastor Rusty Halaas, 1926-2018), I’ve been involved in these life-changing faith formation gatherings for teenagers before I was a teenager. I got to tag along in 1967 to the American Lutheran Church youth gathering in Seattle when I was seven years old – and have been to more than a dozen gatherings since. (Before I was born, my dad was the host pastor and planner for the 1957 Evangelical Lutheran Church (ELC) Luther League convention in Missoula, Montana.)*

I wasn’t surprised when a recent study showed that the “Big 4” influencers for faith formation in the ELCA are Sunday school, summer camp, campus ministry, and the triennial Youth Gathering.

WHO HELPED TO FORM your faith? My most influential Sunday school teacher, Vic Acklund at Bethel Ev. Lutheran in South Minneapolis, taught me about grace. I’ve lost count on the number of Lutheran Bible camps I’ve visited. I also served on the board of Pathways in Northwest Minnesota. When I attended Concordia College in Moorhead, there were two campus pastors, the Revs. Carl Lee and Ernie Mancini. They both knew my name and pointed out my gifts for leadership and ministry. (And as you might imagine, I can bore you with way too many youth gathering stories.)

Event booklets from old Lutheran youth gatherings

Did you notice that only one of the “Big 4” is done exclusively in the congregation? We need to work together to support outdoor ministry experiences, campus ministry pastors, as well as the biggest faith formation event the ELCA hosts every three years.

Last week I was in New Orleans to hear all about this summer’s ELCA Youth Gathering. There is still time to find a teenager or two and sign up and take them. I can give congregations who have yet to register the lowest rate – if you register before February 14. Please connect with me soon if you haven’t signed up for the youth gathering yet! Scroll down to see the blurbs about the events from the synod’s enews.

“Did you notice that only one of the ‘Big 4’ faith formation events is done exclusively in the congregation?”

And, about those five themes: The almost all-volunteer run 2024 Youth Gathering has chosen five themes for five days in a row this summer. Psalm 139 is the scripture foundation: “O Lord, you have searched me and know me. … I am fearfully and wonderfully made, … [so] get a clear picture of what I’m about; then guide me on the road to eternal life.” (mashup of NRSV and “The Message”)

Created to Be BRAVE – You Are Not Alone
Created to Be AUTHENTIC – You Are Seen
Created to Be FREE – You Are Loved
Created to Be DISRUPTIVE – You Are Called
Created to Be DISCIPLES – You Are Sent

I am so looking forward to this summer in New Orleans, and I can’t wait to add a “Created to Be” T-Shirt to my gathering collection. But there will be no fanny pack for me.

*You can view a 30-minute silent movie of the 1957 ELC Luther League gathering in Missoula, Montana. The theme in 1957 was “Built on a Rock.” Westwood Lutheran, St. Louis Park, Minnesota, was there with a banner (@ 19:14). My 31-year-old pastor-Dad is present in his red western shirt at the BBQ (@ 15:35) and is speaking to the crowd at the rodeo arena (@ 22:36). In 1957 the gatherings didn’t use hotels; instead, the Lutheran churches in Missoula arranged home stays for the thousands of teenagers and their adult leaders. A list of previous Lutheran youth gatherings in the US dating back to 1895 is also available.

By Mercy Zou Taithul

I grew up in a small town called Lamka, Churachandpur in the northeast of India. To be specific my street is call P. Kamdou Veng. (P stands for Phiamphu, the Chief of the street surname; Kamdou is his name; and Veng means street.)

I was surrounded by my close family, with my oldest auntie and her whole family living right opposite our house, and relatives also live in the house next to ours on the right. So, I grew up mostly with my siblings, cousins, and other relatives in the same neighborhood.

“The monsoon season blesses us, as pots and buckets are filled with water, kids run under the rain screaming with laughter, parents make paper boats for their kids, and everyone drinks garam (hot) chai/tea with family.”

Our neighborhood is a fun, friendly, loving, caring, and simple yet happy life. It’s a neighborhood where you can go to one neighbor’s house and borrow a glass or sugar, salt, rice, etc., and pay it back whenever. It’s a neighborhood where the doors and windows are wide open. It’s a place where you can walk into other homes without appointments; the open door signifies that we are home and you are always welcome in our house.

It’s also a neighborhood where there’s no such thing as daycare, though you don’t have to worry about your kids in times when you need it. Your neighbor will look after your kids for you and vice versa.

DURING THE SUMMER season (also the mosquito season!), the weather is warm and humid, but there is beautiful sunshine. It’s a time when we get to enjoy and share organic fresh fruits and vegetables – mango, jackfruit, greens, potatoes, and many others – from our backyard with family and neighbors.

On the one hand, the monsoon/rainy season blesses us, as pots and buckets are filled with water, kids run under the rain shouting and screaming with laughter, parents make paper boats for their kids, and everyone drinks garam (hot) chai/tea with family. On the other hand, there can be flooding, draining, and muddy roads. The water can get knee high, one reason why there aren’t basements like Albuquerque.

Pre-winter and winter season (November to February) is a busy season filled with weddings and holiday events such as Chavang Kut (a big day to celebrate the harvesting season on November 10. On that day, each tribe wears its traditional attire and performs it traditional bamboo dance, and so on. It is also a day to acknowledge hard-working farmers and to give thanksgiving to God.

“Before Christmas day the whole community celebrates Advant Christmas together by making a bonfire, creating music, and dancing in a circle by age categories.”

Most people get married during this time of year, probably due to the lack of strong rains. Wedding events are huge with hundreds of attendees. (Everyone from the neighborhood and community are invited.)

Christmas Eve, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, and New Year’s Day are celebrated within our own community (morning to night). We sing, dance, worship and eat together within our own congregation. However, before Christmas day the whole community celebrates Advant Christmas together by making a bonfire, creating music, and dancing in a circle by age categories (kids, young adults, youth, and older adults). Tea is available throughout the night, and the goal is really to just have fun and bond with others whether they are new or old members of the community.

Based on my experience growing up, I thought every neighborhood had fun together in ways such as these. When I began my study abroad, I realized that my new culture is completely different. This awareness makes me appreciate my original culture even more. I feel blessed to be a part of that community and neighborhood.

There are many other things that I would love to share with you – more details on how our weddings are celebrated, the jokes that we share, the living style and so much more. If you’re curious to know more, I am more than happy to share with you.