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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.

By Manny Lewis

In today’s society, cash bail has become a glaring example of systemic racism and inequality. It is a disgrace that people of color bear the burden of this unjust system, perpetuating a cycle of poverty and injustice. Interestingly, there are biblical parallels that shed light on the problematic nature of the bail system.

The cash bail system operates on the assumption that freedom can be purchased. However, this notion favors only the affluent individuals who can afford to buy their way out.

Numerous studies have consistently shown that people of color, particularly the Black and Hispanic communities, face higher bail amounts for similar offenses compared to privileged white individuals. (I’ve seen this with my own eyes as I’ve participated in Court Watch through one of our nonprofit partners, Freedom Fund. But that’s a long story for another blog.) This disparity perpetuates an unending cycle, denying marginalized individuals their release and negatively impacting their lives and those of their loved ones.

“The disparity created by the cash bail system perpetuates an unending cycle, denying marginalized individuals their release and negatively impacting their lives and those of their loved ones.”

The Bible is full of stories that reflect these patterns. Some depict religious leaders who manipulated religious laws to oppress and further marginalize the vulnerable. Well, surprise, surprise, we have our own modern-day leaders who support the cash bail system and who display traits reminiscent of these ancient figures. By burdening people of color with unfair economic hardships through the law, they keep the cycle of systemic injustice spinning.

From the story of Joseph in the Bible, we can draw parallels to the struggles faced by those ensnared within the cash bail system. Joseph, a righteous man, was falsely accused and lacked the resources to prove his innocence and gain his freedom. Does that sound familiar? This is exactly what happens to many individuals caught in the web of this flawed bail system. They find themselves locked up unjustly, unable to afford the necessary resources to fight their cases and secure their release.

IT’S TIME TO take action. It’s time to move beyond mere complaints and work to dismantle the cash bail system, which perpetuates inequalities and racial biases. Advocating for legal reforms, raising awareness, and providing support to communities affected by this flawed system could be an important part of our faith commitment. It’s time to foster a more just society where money doesn’t determine whether you rot behind bars or get a fair shot at justice.

“Joseph, a righteous man, was falsely accused and lacked the resources to prove his innocence and gain his freedom. Does that sound familiar?”

Cash bail serves as a stark reminder of the deep-rooted inequality and racial bias that persist in our society. By highlighting the connections between this flawed system and biblical narratives, we shed light on the plight of people of color and ignite a passion for change.

Let us challenge the status quo, dismantle the chains of oppression, and restore fairness and dignity to all individuals, irrespective of their race or how much money they’ve got in their pockets.

By Bob Hulteen

Saturday is Epiphany – January 6, the twelfth day of Christmas fulfilled. I don’t know about you, but for me it has usually been the day when the tree comes down and the decorations are put away (at least in theory).

Epiphany is the celebration of light. While it has always been an important church festival for me, in an age with white supremacy on the rise, the dialectic of light and dark becomes a problematic point of celebration. The incompatibility of Jesus’ life and ministry with the use of Scripture to oppress – by macro or micro aggressiveness – causes pause in my language.

And yet, the use of light and dark also seems relevant. Sometimes it seems like the appropriate metaphor. So, what to do?

“How then can the use of language of light and dark be redeemed?”

As Episcopal Minister and Hebrew Bible Scholar Wil Gafney has said: “Some of the fear of the dark is ancient and instinctual and mercenary. … My over-used but nowhere near retirement ‘Black Lives Matter’ sign says, ‘Black Lives Are Sacred.’ Blackness is sacred. But the world has lost sight of the goodness and sanctity of blackness. That is why it is so easy to kill us and our children and so easy to justify our deaths with fear, fear of the dark. Public Enemy prophesied rightly on Fear of a Black Planet: Fear of blackness. Fear of black people. All in service to a divinization of whiteness and light to the point of idolatry.” (See “Holy Blackness: The Matrix of Creation” on the website Womanists: Wading in the Word.)

How then can the use of language of light and dark be redeemed?

ABOUT A YEAR AGO, I was blessed to receive a copy of Ladder to the Light: An Indigenous Elder’s Meditations on Hope and Courage, by Steven Charleston. I was excited to find out about this book because Charleston had been a Luther Seminary prof when I first met him, and he later wrote several articles for me when I was associate editor of Sojourners.

Having served as the Episcopal Bishop of Alaska in the 1990s, he gained notoriety and was able to build quite a following on social media 20 years later. Ladder to the Light is a collection of his regular pandemic postings on hope and courage, woven together with connective tissue that highlighted the wisdom of a life well-lived.

Charleston’s deep resonance with the Native American nations of the Southwest U.S. influences the central motif of the book, which is the kiva, “a square or circular underground chamber, covered by a roof of wooden beams with an opening in the center. You enter a kiva the same way you enter a submarine: by descending the ladder. Once inside the packed earth chamber of the kiva, you are in darkness. … The kiva is a sacred space. It serves the same function as a cathedral, as a place of worship.”

Charleston continues: “… while a cathedral’s soaring arches or a mosque’s great domes are designed to point us upward, the kiva is intended to point us downward. The spiritual focal point is not above us, but below. We are not to look up, but down. What we seek is not in the sky, but in the earth.”

“Epiphany is a time of triumph and hope – a hope made tangible and abiding because God loved us enough to send Jesus.”

As a primary place of growth that only happens in darkness, the kiva symbolizes spiritual resistance. It is a place that offers an alternative direction, a new vision for what could be. It shadows a darkness that resembles a womb, creating an opportunity for new birth.  It is a “nurturing darkness” that is “a place of formation and growth.”

And yet, Charleston also explains that we don’t stay in the womb. While darkness is essential, so is light. It is the ladder that offers movement back and forth between two sources of life-giving formation. The ladder, taken one rung at a time, that allows us to move between mutually beneficial spaces. The rest of Ladder is Charleston’s explanation of the different rungs of spiritual realization – faith, blessing, hope, community, action, truth, renewal, and transformation.

CHARLESTON CONCLUDES that “we are all in the kiva together. Whatever our politics, whatever our religion, whatever our culture, …” It reminds of my high school music teacher’s explanation that music is about both sound and not-sound. He would say that music moves us both by blocs of sound and blocs of silence, stressing that jazz solos were best when they included moments without notes, as well as times of improvised runs.

And, Epiphany – this celebration of light – has to remembered in this balance with darkness. It is not only a time of visits by Magi (possibly three kings representing Africa, Asia, and Europe in most depictions) , but is set contextually by Herod’s murder of the Holy Innocents. As Jim Rice, my colleague at Sojourners, reminds us in Living the Word: Reflections on the Revised Common Lectionary, “While some kings may come to bow down to Jesus, some come to kill.”

But he also writes: “But this season is not Herod’s; it rightly belongs to the one who incarnates the living God. It is a time of triumph and hope – a hope made tangible and abiding because God loved us enough to send his only son. In that epiphany, all things are made new.”

The balance of light and dark, a ladder to new possibilities, a hope for a future where wisdom and growth are celebrated, may be just what we need to survive this January 6.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen 

“Where Shepherds Lately Knelt” is a hymn from All Creations Sings (#909, with text by Jaroslav J. Vajda and music by Carl F. Schalk). I invite you to listen to and reflect on the lyrics.

Where shepherds lately knelt and kept the angel’s word; 
I come in half-belief, a pilgrim strangely stirred.
But there is room and welcome there for me. 

In that unlikely place I find him as they said;
Sweet newborn babe, how frail! And in a manger bed: 
A still, small voice to cry one day for me. 

Can I, will I, forget how Love was born, and burned
Its way into my hear — unasked, unforced, unearned, 
To die, to live, and not alone for me; 
To die, to live, and not alone for me. 

WE PRAISE GOD for you as you:

• Prepare to welcome pilgrims of every kind to the manger
• Rehearse music that will touch the depths of the human spirit,
• Proclaim the good news the Love is Born in Jesus — for you, for me, for all.

And we hold you in our daily prayers — that God’s incarnate Love will meet you and bless you in your own pilgrimage this season.

With graitude for you and for the partnership we share,

–Bishop Ann Svennungsen and the Minneapolis Area Synod Staff 

By Jeni Huff

I’ve been working at the synod office for more than ten years and I’ve been on staff at my home congregation for two-and-a-half years. While I worked only at the synod office, I understood that it was quiet around the office in the summer and around Christmastime and Lent because church staff persons were busy at church and not looking for support from the synod at those times. But my brain didn’t make the connection that when I joined a church staff, I would also be busy at those times.

Someone once told me that, when you start working for the church and seeing “how the sausage is made,” your perspective can change. Boy, was she right!

I’ve been going to church since I was in fourth grade and seasons like Advent just seemed cozy and twinkly. Somehow the church just decorated itself and kids just magically knew what to sing and say in front of the church.

“I’ve been going to church since I was in fourth grade and seasons like Advent just seemed cozy and twinkly.”

While many people may have just started thinking about Advent a few weeks ago, your church staff started thinking about it months ago, mulling over questions like:

• “When should we have the Christmas Pageant? And the bake sale?”
• “Who should buy all the ingredients for the bake sale?”
• “Who should do the Advent readings each week?”
• “How many Christmas services do we have the capacity to do this year?”
• “Who will decorate the church?”
• “What should we do for the youth Christmas party?”
• “What is the best way to let people know about all the special events and the dates we won’t be meeting?”

I’ve heard a pastor say that Advent is easier for pastors, but it’s the admin people, the youth and children’s ministry people, the decorating people, the volunteer coordinating people, and the communications people who are feeling a heavier lift during this season. (And I know many of these people are not even paid to do this important work!)

AT MY CHURCH I work mostly with Family Ministry and Communications. (But, “other duties as assigned” is a pretty loose term in church work, am I right?) You might be surprised to learn we started planning the Christmas Pageant at the beginning of the school year. We set the date, started thinking about the songs the kids would sing, and started creating graphics to advertise it months ago.

And the role of a parent adds to the challenge of enjoying the season. I need to help my kids remember their lines and songs for the pageant and keep track of which days we don’t have Awana or MOPS, not to mention the school programs and the gatherings with friends and families! That is an added load that many of us also carry. 

“The admin people, the youth and children’s ministry people, the decorating people, the volunteer coordinating people, and the communications people are likely feeling the heavier lift during this season.”

All of this is to say that making Advent look all cozy and twinkly when you walk into church on December Sundays doesn’t happen by itself. Several people put in hours (and hours) of work to tell you what time and day to walk into church and to make it all cozy and twinkly.

Maybe the next time you see these folks, give them an extra smile and a joyous thank you for all their hard work. Drop off a Christmas card or bring them some of your extra Christmas cookies! In my experience, a little appreciation goes a long way!

By Pastor Wondimu Sonnesa

For our prayer life to be a peaceful journey with God, it is crucial to recognize and maintain the divine-human boundaries. No matter what our position is or which part of the world we are bringing our prayer concern to God, we need to respect God’s freedom of acting as God sees fit. Because prayer is not dictating that God act in a particular way, our confidence in prayer lies not in how perfectly we can coin our words, but in God’s promise to hear and answer our prayer.

That promise is sufficient to build a child-parent relationship expressed in consistent trust. This trust stands firm even in the face of the storm only because of who God is. Of course, there are times when we fail to pray, but the groanings of the Holy Spirit sustain our faith (Romans 8:26). The blessings we have received show not how strong our prayer life is to overcome the challenges, but how faithful our God is.

“The more we learn who Christ is, the better we understand that prayer is not just about us.”

Let me illustrate this with a story I read a long time ago about a father and his ten-year-old daughter travelling by boat. When the storm suddenly confronted them, other people on the boat started shouting and throwing their heavy belongings into the sea. But that little girl didn’t allow her napping to be interrupted. Not trusting his eyes, one of the crew in the boat approached her and asked how come she sleeps peacefully while their boat is nearly swamped by the storm. She asked, “Is my dad still on this boat?” They answered, “Yes.” She responded, “I don’t need to be worried about the storm as long as my father is in the boat, no matter how strong the storm is.” And she continued to nap.

Her choice doesn’t prove that the actions of other passengers to save life was unnecessary. It rather magnifies the power of trust in a father’s love that guarantees protection. Likewise, overcoming the spiritual stagnation more requires feeling and trusting in God’s presence than reliance on what we can do to calm the storm.

The little girl was enjoying peaceful sleep maybe not just because she knew she was accompanied by her dad. Perhaps she may also have a fresh memory of his springing into action to rescue her in dangerous moments. That gives her peace amid the violent windstorm, … no matter how strong the storm!

A PEACEFUL SPIRITUAL JOURNEY is more about focusing on who is with us than the absence of disruption. Sometimes we take for granted Jesus’ companionship and neglect asking important question until we experience calmness in our surrounding. This reminds us of the disciples’ encounter with windstorm while crossing the sea of Galilee accompanied by Jesus. They knew that the situation was hopeless. All they can do was waking him up and asking, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (Mark 4:38). It was after Jesus rebuked the wind and restored the calmness on the sea that they could ask the question prompted by their experience of his intervention, saying, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (Mark 4:41).

How often does God’s rescuing intervention create eagerness in us to know God more closely.

The more we learn who Christ is, the better we understand that prayer is not just about us. It is also asking God a short question about the experience of others: Who really is God for those who are going through difficult situation in their life? Those who are suffering injustice, persecution, and violation of human rights may need our prayer.

“The blessings we have received show not how strong our prayer life is to overcome the challenges, but how faithful our God is.”

When Martin Luther emphasized the importance of prayer and repentance in the absence of calmness, he suggested that it should be brief and consistent, like, “Oh help us, dear God the Father; have mercy on us, dear Lord Jesus Christ!” (Luther’s Works, vol. 46, 1967:173).

When we do this on behalf others, it simply takes us a few seconds to say, “God help them, have mercy on them.” It is so small to be attached to our prayers of thanksgiving and praise comfortably. It is so easy to be carried as far as Gaza, Israel, Ukraine, Sudan, and Ethiopia. Yet, it is powerful enough to restore peace and calmness in God’s world because of the fellowship we have with the groaning Holy Spirit, no matter how strong the storm.

By Pastor John Hulden

Can our congregations work like an Amtrak dining car?

I’ve travelled on Amtrak’s Empire Builder between Minnesota and Montana since my college days and again last week. What a ride it is: lakes country of Minnesota, prairies and oil fields of North Dakota, prairies and wind turbines of Montana! Half the time we follow the route of the Lewis and Clark Expedition along the Missouri River from 220 years ago. Then, the train takes us around the southern edge of Glacier National Park — a place the Blackfeet Nation calls “the backbone of the world.”

When it was time to eat, Becky and I made our way to the dining car. The host greeted us and invited us to sit on the same side of the table, … because … the next guest(s) walking into the dining car would be seated across the table from us.

“You get to meet new friends!,” said our host with a smile.

“It’s easier to talk to someone new while sharing a meal together.”

On our trip out to Montana, we enjoyed the company of a young couple making their journey from New Zealand to Chicago to Seattle, and eventually, to settle in Vancouver, British Columbia. On our return to Minnesota, we had breakfast with a mom and a daughter from Chaska who were on their way back after time with grandparents in Minot, North Dakota. Both encounters (and others) were delightful conversations with “new friends” over a meal.

When does that happen in my life? When do I have the opportunity for a half-hour conversation with a stranger? One thing that is clear to me: It’s easier to talk to someone new while sharing a meal together.

IN OUR WORK WITH congregations involved with our Faith Practices and Neighboring Practices initiative, we try to have food at every gathering. No surprise our scripture theme for this round with our 17 congregations is the Walk to Emmaus (Luke 24:13ff). Two disciples encounter a stranger on the day of Christ’s resurrection. The travelers walk and talk, and a meal is shared. And then, a revelation — complete with heartburn. “They said to each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?’” (Luke 24: 32).

One of the books I read while away in Montana was Gil Rendle’s Countercultural: Subversive Resistance and the Neighborhood Congregation [Rowan & Littlefield, 2023]. Rendle sets up the book reminding readers about Tara Isabella Burton’s analysis of the three “civil religions” in the US.

Our social justice culture has become an individualistic fight against the powers – more for my rights than for the common good. The second is techo-utopianism, where we count on future technology to make my life better by fixing what ails me.

“They said to each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?’”

The third civil religion leads to Christian Nationalism: atavism. This is a throwback to the “good old days” when men were men, women were women, and you did not question authority. [Tara Isabel Burton, Strange Rites: New Religions for a Godless World (New York: Public Affairs, 2020)]

The church — perhaps all “institutions” — has become counter-cultural to these individualistic civil religions. Your congregation stands against those prevailing ways of operating in the world. Jesus followers listen to their neighbors, see God at work on every road travelled, and offer food and conversation, … to new friends.

Common food begets the common good. All Aboard!

By Johan Baumeister

In front of an ancient, timbered house in Eisenach stands an apple tree. I’ve never seen it in person, but it can be viewed as it looked when Google last drove by in October 2020. Below the tree you’ll see a plaque. On that plaque is written a quote often attributed to Luther — though like the Lutherhaus folks, I feel compelled to acknowledge that it is found nowhere in his writings or those of his contemporaries. Translated, it reads, “Even if I knew the world were going to end tomorrow, I would still plant an apple tree today.”

The apple tree at Lutherhaus

Planting an apple tree is an act of hope and generally requires some level of commitment to care for it. Every year, you’ll need to consider and engage in pruning, applying compost, monitoring the health of the tree, watering the tree, thinning out the smaller fruits, and finally collecting the harvest. And for at least the first two or three years, you will need to do the work without expectation of the tree bearing any fruit.

“Even on my most difficult day, I feel better when I’m planting one of Luther’s metaphorical apple trees.”

The apple tree metaphor reminds me of my own journey through recovery. At some point along the way, someone told me that “Hope is where you point your heart, and commitment is when your feet are pointing in the same direction.” I think that’s akin to what Luther was advising; stay hopeful and keep following through on your commitments no matter how much you may despair.

For a person like me who lives in recovery from chemical and mental health challenges, it’s encouraging to know that even across the deep gulf of 500 years my own struggles aren’t completely alien to Luther or the people around him. “I’m not alone” is a helpful message contained therein. But also, “Our problems today are not so unique that they’re unrelatable across history.”

REGARDLESS OF WHETHER the quote is Luther’s or not — and I choose to believe that it is — Hessian pastor and Confessing Church leader Karl Lotz used it in 1944, while encouraging and reassuring his colleagues through difficult times. Lotz’s colleagues in the Confessing Church movement, which was founded 10 years prior, had failed to stop or even truly blunt Nazi brutality. They were not alone in that failure, nor were their attempts to succeed free of risk or cost.

The world was ending, in a sense, and it might well have felt like the Confessing Church had not done enough. Even as totalitarian thugs threatened doom for every even remotely “disloyal” word or act, Lotz was planting and watering seeds of hope and persistence in the minds of his colleagues.

“We each have our own challenges, unique to our own lives and circumstances.”

In the village of Putten, in the Netherlands, the month of October 1944 opened with a nighttime ambush by members of the Dutch resistance on a single car carrying two Wehrmacht officers and two corporals. One German lieutenant was mortally wounded. In retaliation for the Dutch resistance attack, the Germans raided the nearby village of Putten and took the entire male population aged 16 and older and deported them to concentration camps. More than 550 men and boys — 90% of the 16+ male population of Putten — perished. The world would indeed end for them in a very near tomorrow. But as the train departed, these men and boys of Putten did not rage. They did not curse their captors. Instead, they sang the verses of Psalm 84:

Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
    whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.

They chose to reply to vengeance not with curses or despair, but by planting a sapling of hope in God’s blessings in their own hearts and in the hearts of those who would remember them. Their hope was in their Creator and the Creator’s Kingdom, and their actions imply that their commitment to that hope lasted to the end.

A monument to those fallen at Putten

WE EACH HAVE our own challenges, unique to our own lives and circumstances. Some of us have certainly faced death, and most have likely not. Few, if any, of us have faced the evils and adversity that Martin Luther, Karl Lotz, or the men and boys of Putten did. I do know this to be most certainly true: Even on my most difficult day, I feel better when I’m planting one of Luther’s metaphorical apple trees.

It is a certainty that difficult days lie ahead. It is also certain that you can find seeds of hope, plant and nourish them, and — perhaps years later — see some of them bear fruit. The Confessing Church movement that Karl Lotz was a part of and whose founding ultimately cost Dietrich Bonhoffer his life bore fruit from trees of hope planted by those men and others. From their Stuttgart Declaration, I echo their hope and prayer and invite you to do so as well:

We hope to God that through the common service of the churches, the spirit of violence and retribution — which wants to become powerful again today — will be controlled throughout the world and that the spirit of peace and love will come to rule, in which alone tortured humanity can find healing.