Blog

By Pastor John Hulden

This blog is written for you church leaders. How are you doing after Holy Week and Easter? How are you really? Thanks for all you did to make Lent and Easter worship happen at your setting. Now that we are in the season of Easter, it is a good time to check in on your wellbeing.

At our ministerium last month, our guest speaker was Matt Bloom. Wait, what’s a ministerium? It’s when our synod’s pastors and deacons gather for a Sunday morning experience on a Thursday. We worship. We have coffee hour (that’s not really an hour). We have an education hour — the spring one was with Matt Bloom.

“When we are connected, we can process the good, bad, and the ugly with people working the same jobs.”

Who is Matt Bloom? He’s a professor who has been studying and teaching about wellbeing for more than 20 years.

At our ministerium, Matt Bloom first shared a simple way to check in on your daily wellbeing. At the end of the day, on a paper calendar, quickly reflect on your day. Was it a good day? Put a smiley face on today’s calendar square. Was it a bad day? Put a frowny face. For our well-being, we need more good days than bad days. Scientific studies demonstrate, and Matt has seen and participated in this research, the wellbeing ratio is 3:1. If I have three good days to one bad day, then I’m doing ok. Bad days take more time for recovery.

If your week or month has as many bad days as good days, something needs to change. What kind of change? Small changes are best. Big changes are risky and small changes tend to last.

ANOTHER DIMENSION OF well-being is resilience. There will be ups and downs, so we need to refuel. Three things that bring our resilience capacity back up are building into our lives: 1) a way to detach, 2) a way to relax, and 3) a way to grow. Take a moment to think about this: Outside of work, what’s your favorite way to detach? to relax? to grow?

Matt also shared about how meaning (your core values and beliefs) and self-integrity (your sense of worth) influence your wellbeing.

Then Matt shared about the “fifth dimension” of wellbeing — and I’m not talking about that cool musical group from the sixties that sang “Aquarius” and “Up-Up And Away.”

Matt Bloom presents on resiliency and connectedness at the 2023 MAS Spring Ministerium. More than 100 rostered leaders participated in the event.

Some of y’all who have seen me at synod events will know that I can’t help talking about the importance of Peer Groups with anyone that has a desk at a church: pastors, deacons, musicians, communicators, administrators, faith formation leaders, and more. It’s a wonderful thing for people with the same weird job to get together to pray, support, and learn together in a peer group.

Well, I got schooled on the importance of peer groups at last month’s ministerium. And I loved it!

“If your week or month has as many bad days as good days, something needs to change.”

The fifth dimension of wellbeing is connectedness. This is where I heard there is scientific evidence that peer groups are really, really, good for you. Besides relying on our “Significant Others” (friends, family, life partners), we need “Similar Others.” When we are with similar others, i.e. peer groups, we can be more fully ourselves.

When we are connected, we can process the good, bad, and the ugly with people working the same jobs. In a peer group of similar others, we can try out ideas in a safe place. When we are in good company, we can truly rest and relax.

So, start a peer group! There’s information about how to do so on a synod web page.

And Matt pointed us to a wellbeing survey — only nine questions. You can check out the survey yourself.

Blessings to you these weeks of Easter. And, here in Minnesota, we finally have some spring weather to match!

I pray for your wellbeing. Remember you are a good and capable person. The God-who-rose-Jesus-from-the-dead loves you no matter what.

By Pastor Craig Pederson

One of my best friends was born on April 1. We were classmates for our entire K – 12^th grade experience and I went to all of his birthday parties. We still stay in touch today.

His responses to his fateful date of birth evolved as we moved through those growing-up years. In elementary school, he was rather defensive – understandably so, because he took a lot of teasing for it. “I AM NOT A FOOL!” he would huff at those poking fun at him, sometimes storming out of the room when he got too angry.

But in our junior and senior high years, he moved from a posture of defensiveness to one of nonchalance, and even good-natured humor. “I’m so glad I picked this date to be born!,” and “if the calendar tells me I’m a fool, I must be a fool!” were some of his well-developed comeback lines. I’m sure he takes some ribbing even as a middle-aged adult, but I have no doubt he handles it with grace.

“I figured at some point in history, someone would have looked at the foolish story of Christ and thought it was worthy of a day apart from the Resurrection itself.”

I’ve never given much thought to the reason and timing of April Fool’s Day. My brief, unscientific research did not yield entirely convincing or conclusive findings.

Some historians trace it to the Roman festival of “Hilaria” (as in, that’s hilarious!), which is around March 25. This is the date when the vernal equinox signals that the day becomes longer than the night – meaning it must be time for celebration and trickery!

Others tie April Fool’s to the change from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian calendar during the Council of Trent in France 1563. This moved New Year’s Day from April 1 (spring equinox) to January 1. Word was slow to travel in those days (since they somehow lived without social media!), so those who lived in a three-month haze not knowing when to celebrate the New Year were called “April fools.”

I GUESS I ALWAYS had some vague sense that April Fool’s Day must be linked to Easter. I figured at some point in history – either from within the church or as a critique of the church – someone would have looked at the foolish story of Christ and thought it was worthy of a day apart from the Resurrection itself.

Some churches celebrate “Holy Humor Sunday” the week after Easter, where the joke is on the devil for thinking he could keep Jesus in the grave. But that basks in the after-the-fact miracle that Jesus was raised from the dead.

“I’ve never given much thought to the reason and timing of April Fool’s Day.”

What about the foolishness that led up to that miracle?

• A man called “Son of God” and “Son of Man” drew large crowds by teaching about love and patience and forgiveness, yet he was always on the run from religious and political leaders who saw him as a threat.
• He called himself “the Way, the Truth, and the Life” who brought healing and hope and inclusion to outcasts on the margins, yet he is scolded by those closest to him as lacking empathy and presence in their time of need.
• He was labeled as a king, but in his final week he was convicted in a sham trial with no followers rising to defend him – in fact, they got defensive at the suggestion that they even knew him (Peter three times!).
• He hung on a cross in isolation and shame, in the midst of a community that did not know what to make of this foolish man who gave himself up.

The apostle Paul said, “the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Cor. 1:18).  As we approach Holy Week, the calendar tells me I’m a fool – so I must be.

By Pastor Norma Malfatti

Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? Isaiah 43:18-19a NRSV

I’ve been thinking a lot about death and resurrection lately. It’s probably no surprise, given that we’re just weeks away from Holy Week. However, I’ve been thinking less about human mortality and God’s baptismal promises and more about what might need to be released (die) to make way for the new things God is doing (resurrection).

This seems to be the story of the church right now. Faith communities across the country are wondering if pre-COVID ministries should, or even could, return. Other congregations are wondering if the ministries they started during COVID should continue or need to be adapted for this new reality we’re in. Still others are trying to catch a glimpse of where the Holy Spirit is calling them next, ready to throw caution to the wind and follow.

These decisions are hard and fraught with emotions: grief, nostalgia, hope. And that is all besides the deep exhaustion many of us still feel from having lived through the last three years and the constant need to innovate ways to connect with people.

“Your congregation’s core values are not its aspirational values, what you might call guiding principles.”

Where we find ourselves reminds me of the work in congregations that used to be called redevelopments. Redevelopments were congregations that both needed and actively pursued a structured process of rethinking everything about their ministry so they could embrace a vibrant and faithful future. They may have needed help reconnecting with their neighborhood in ways similar to the good work the Faith Practices and Neighboring Practices cohorts do.

However, it was more than that. Those congregations often needed to rediscover their core values and purpose in God’s mission, along with building the scaffolding and infrastructure that helped live into them. This rethinking often included letting go of long-beloved ministries, in part because they were no longer effective but even more so because it did not help them live into their values and purpose. In letting go, capacity was created to focus on things that brought life and were in alignment with who God created them to be as a community of faith.

While the Churchwide organization no longer offers redevelopment grants, congregations still find themselves in need of this rethinking and discovery. In light of challenges of the last three years, most of us find ourselves in this place, … at least in part.

DOES THIS SOUND LIKE your congregation? Might it be time for your congregation to rediscover their principles, values, and purpose? If you’re even slightly curious, here’s how you might start that conversation:

At your next council meeting, set aside some time, maybe 30 minutes. In the first 10 minutes, have people individually name four to six core values that they experience as at the center of the life of your congregation.

Patrick Lencioni’s words from his book The Advantage might be helpful here. He invites readers to “think of [their] core values as a few behavior traits that are inherent in the organization. They lie at the heart of the organization’s identity, do not change over time, and must already exist. In other words, they cannot be contrived.”

“The values you identify should be a short word or phrase, potentially have an explanation sentence (not a paragraph), be focused on who you are, and stand the test of time.”

Your congregation’s core values are not its aspirational values, what you might call guiding principles; it is about who you already are. Over time, guiding principles may become part of your core values, but they aren’t there yet.

Values should be a short word or phrase, potentially have an explanation sentence (not a paragraph), be focused on who you are, and stand the test of time.

Examples could include:

• Grace: We are part of this community because of God’s gift of grace to and for us.
• Entrepreneurial: We take risks for the sake of the gospel.
• Generosity: God is giving to us in great abundance, we respond with generous hearts.

Have people write each word/phrase on a separate index card. Once people have their values written, take five minutes to share with one another the values you wrote. Are there common values? Are there some that you did not think of? Are there some that might be missing?

“Congregations in redevelopment often needed to rediscover their core values and purpose in God’s mission, along with building the scaffolding and infrastructure that helped live into them.”

Spend the rest of your time working to whittle down the list to four to six values that clearly articulate who your congregation is. Invite the council to think about them over the next month and return to the conversation at the following meeting. Along the way, test these values out at committee/team meetings. Perhaps even do the same exercise with them and see what happens.

Once you are clear on your congregation’s values, then use them to guide decision making as you discern what to let go of and as new ministry opportunities arise. There is freedom in saying “no” when you’re clear on who you are. There is joy in new opportunities when you’re clear on who you are. Yes there is death, but there is also resurrection and that will always be part of the story of following Jesus.

By Jack Hurbanis

Even having grown up at St. John’s Lutheran in south Minneapolis, if you would have asked me how many churches were in the Minneapolis Area Synod or who the bishop was, my response would have been, “I thought bishops had to be Catholic.” My church knowledge didn’t extend past the few in my neighborhood, the Episcopal church my maternal grandparents attended in Edina, and Saints Peter and Paul Lutheran in Riverside, Illinois, where I was baptized and my paternal grandparents worshiped. So when on January 20, 2022 (my eighth day as a synod staff member), Emilie Bouvier asked if I wanted to tag along to a Northern Conference meeting at Salem Evangelical in Dalbo, I had to open up Google Maps.

I had never been to Dalbo before and that trip began my introduction to the Minneapolis Area Synod. Even though I’d been a part of it for nearly my entire life, I had never known that I was part of a community that includes congregations in urban, suburban, ex-urban, rural, and places everywhere in between.

No better drive will show you just how many different life experiences are captured within our synod than the one I took two Sundays ago, driving from the synod office in the Stevens Square neighborhood of Minneapolis, one of the most densely populated places in the state of Minnesota, to Evangelical Lutheran Church of the Redeemer just outside of Henderson, a town of about 1,000 people at the southern border of our synod.

“Community gathering spaces are becoming harder and harder to find.”

I passed by 25-story office buildings, farms, rows of single-family homes, the Minnesota River, lakes, and Minnesota’s Largest Candy Store – a stop I’ll be returning to when they open in May. But once I arrived for worship, I found the same thing I have found each time I’ve gotten to visit a new congregation – folks chatting about their weeks, the new happenings in their lives, and exciting upcoming plans. As an organizer, I think a lot about how to create places where neighbors can connect and seeing those Sunday morning conversations never ceases to put a smile on my face.

UNSURPRISINGLY, my favorite part of attending church on Sunday was the coffee hour – that communal time to slow down, have a meaningful conversation, and build real relationships with a multigenerational group of people with all different lived experiences. Often called “third spaces” or community gathering spaces that aren’t workplace or home, these opportunities for conversation with those not in our immediate circle are becoming harder and harder to find, … and without them people grow more disconnected from their community.

“Even though I’d been a part of it for nearly my entire life, I had never known that I was part of a community that includes congregations in urban, suburban, ex-urban, rural, and places everywhere in between.”

I can now say that I know that the Minneapolis Area Synod has 136 congregations (and 4 synodically authorized worshiping communities) and that Bishop Ann doesn’t get calls from the Vatican (although she has visited there). I have had the chance to visit a number of those 136 but have many more to go – so thank you to those who have already welcomed me into your space and if you are interested in having a conversation about the synod’s environmental organizing efforts and how you could get involved, please connect with me!

And a special blessing to every coffee hour conversation this coming Sunday.

By Pastor Norma Malfatti

Pastor Norma painting an icon

Each Lent I spend time with a new icon. Growing up, icons weren’t things we talked about in my church. They were images that my Roman Catholic friends, not my Protestant ones, had in their homes. So I assumed that meant it wasn’t something “we” did.

Several years ago I went to Turkey and Greece to follow in the footsteps of Paul, learning more about his ministry and the people he shared the Gospel with. During my time in Greece, my curiosity and imagination for iconography was also piqued as I saw icons everywhere. It was easy to see that iconography plays a significant role in the life of people who are Greek Orthodox, from the ornate icons with gold plating in church buildings to simpler ones made with gold leaf or paint in people’s homes; icons are everywhere.

“Of all the varied faith practices I have tried to follow, painting icons and using them in my prayer life is the one I return to again and again.”

I asked our tour guide to tell me more because I wanted to understand her faith better. This is what I learned:

First and foremost, Greek Orthodox Christians who use iconography in their prayer life do not worship those icons or the people depicted in them; they worship God and God alone. However, they pay their respects to their forefathers and foremothers in faith through the icons.

Greek Orthodox spirituality has a very deep and intimate connection with the communion of saints and the ways the Holy Spirit connects us all across time and space, something we remind ourselves of on All Saints’ Day. So when they ask a saint to pray for them, it is like asking the person in the pew next to you to pray for you when you’re in need of prayer. Icons serve as a constant reminder of God’s presence in their lives and they draw strength from the saints depicted in the icons as they remember their witness to God’s love.

I PURCHASED MY first icon on that trip: Simeon and Anna with the infant Jesus. Simeon’s bold proclamation in Luke 2 that his own eyes had seen the salvation of God and he was prepared to die, as well as Anna’s prophetic words about Jesus’ life and Mary’s coming heartbreak, had been a favorite passage of my mother’s and I wanted us to have that icon in our home.

Norma’s Holy Innocense icon in process

Not long after I returned from that trip, I was invited to participate in an iconography class with the opportunity to create my very own icon. At first I was resistant. I have very little artistic skill, but the friend who invited me knew of my interest in icons and promised that I didn’t need to be an artist to create one.

“What I discovered in the slow, methodical, patience-testing process of creating an icon is the very presence of God.”

I discovered in the slow, methodical, patience-testing process of creating an icon the very presence of God. Just as I used the icons in my home to rest in the presence of God and wonder about the life and witness of the saints depicted in them, as I paint each layer of color or highlighting, I wonder about the many layers of the people I paint. Whether the face of Jesus, Elijah receiving bread from a raven, or the complicated image of the Holy Trinity, I am drawn into the multi-faceted theological claims and spirituality in lives of the people I am creating and are being created in me.

An icon class showing of the products

Of all the varied faith practices I have tried to follow, painting icons and using them in my prayer life is the one I return to again and again. The Visio Divina (a visual version of Lectio Divina) practice of looking at the image and wondering, “what do I see and hear?,” has been profound even in its simplicity.

Perhaps this Lent, you might want to explore using an icon in your faith practice. If you’re curious, you can follow these steps that I use:

• Get ready: Sit comfortably and still the body. Focus on breathing.
• Look: Take time to look closely at the icon. What do you see? See ‘the more.” Take time.
• Look and reflect: What is the icon calling you to be? What is the message for you? What do you hear?
• Look and respond: Read the icon once more by gazing on it. Respond in prayer. Write/draw thoughts and prayers if you journal.
• Look and rest: Let the image of the icon rest in your heart.
• Be: Give time for this to happen!

By Pastor Craig Pederson

One of the gifts of Christian liturgies is that they incorporate words and phrases we are not likely to hear in everyday conversation. This week in the liturgical year, Ash Wednesday provides us one of those phrases that always sinks in deeply with me:

“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

In contemporary language, dust is not often assigned to the human condition (though, depending upon your lexicon of insults, maybe you’ve been on the giving or receiving end of a closely related ‘d’ word – “dirtball!”).

“We are reminded of this elemental life cycle at the graveside committal when we lay to rest our loved ones: ‘Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.’”

But the human relationship to dust and ashes is biblical. God created humans by breathing life into dust (Gen. 2:7), then sentenced us back to that same dust following the disobedience of Adam in the garden (Gen. 3:19). We are reminded of this elemental life cycle at the graveside committal when we lay to rest our loved ones: “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

Ash Wednesday is a vital, necessary reality check for me. Sometimes that is because I need a reset in remembering my existential relationship to God. Sometimes I need a reminder of the universal chemical, material, elemental relationship of all things. Sometimes I need a healthy serving of humble pie. And, sometimes I need encouragement that the division, and stratification, and marginalization we humans tend to create are not the original designs of God.

YET IF ALL LIFE ends in dust, this existence is a tough one to take. Ash Wednesday is an affirmation of the resurrection hope that the Lenten journey initiates. For me, I’m invited to think about encounters with ashes that have been formative in my life.

I think about the ashes from the oven fire in my family’s kitchen when I was in elementary school, one that I thought would render us homeless – but thank God for the volunteer small-town fire department who responded within minutes.

I think about the charred remains of a barn fire at my friend’s farm that left them asking, “What now?”

I think about arriving at the scene of the devasting fire of the original Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church building on 24^th Street and Chicago Avenue in Minneapolis while I was in seminary.

I think about visiting New York City just a few months after 9/11 and seeing, smelling, and feeling the ash-tinged effects of that terrorist act.

I think about a spring break family trip to southern California a few years ago where we observed ashen hillsides following a series of wildfires that dramatically altered the landscape and portended the effects of climate change.

And, more recently, I think about the images of bombed out structures where buildings once stood in Ukrainian cities where the Russian war is now one year old; I think about the ashes produced by the catastrophic earthquake in Turkey.

Ashes are often the residual effects of destruction and death. But as people of God in Christ, we look beyond the residual for what may come next, trusting that God is at work in the dusty and dry places.

IN A RECENT article on the possibility of revival in the Christian church, pastor and theologian Tim Keller describes where he sees signs of hope. In 1989 he founded Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Manhattan, a context where most residents are skeptical, hostile, or indifferent towards Christianity. Added to that challenging context is his personal story of being a remarkable survivor of a pancreatic cancer diagnosis.

Keller names several pivots that would need to happen for Christianity to grow again in the United States:

• Developing new language to communicate with non-Christians;
• Uniting justice and righteousness;
• Embracing the multiethnic character of the faith;
• Striking a balance between innovation and conservation;
• Reclaiming the Christian virtues of grace and covenant.

These pivots are difficult when the church spends time and energy striving to be an equal cultural force in a competitive world, and when it struggles to differentiate its values and practices from other institutions.

“Ashes are often the residual effects of destruction and death. But as people of God in Christ, we look beyond the residual for what may come next, trusting that God is at work in the dusty and dry places.”

But then Keller said this: “Christianity, like its founder, does not go from strength to strength but from death to resurrection.”

This is the message I will carry into this Lenten season. The pursuit of perpetual growth and strength is admirable and impressive, but that is not always the way of a God who created us from dust and ensures our return there. Lent is a time to repent, to turn back toward the God who promises to bring new life out of dust and ashes – sometimes through devoted volunteer firefighters, sometimes through neighbors helping neighbors, sometimes through new flowers on ashen hillsides, and sometimes through peacemaking and mercy in the midst of catastrophe.

Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. But you are not alone, for God and neighbor are with you.

By Pastor John Hulden

Council members from Bread of Life Deaf Lutheran Church (BOLD) and Woodlake Lutheran Church discuss what good meetings look like during the synod’s Tool Kit event.

I was in the LA area* the weekend of the biggest musical award ceremony of the year (the one where super-fans rage on social media if their artist didn’t win a particular category). The next day, I was in the Phoenix area** the week leading up to the biggest and over-hyped sporting event of the year — the one where people plan parties to watch a football game and a half-time show, the one with the most bets riding on the game, the one where companies trip over each other to buy really expensive TV ad time.

I didn’t find my way to the red carpet for the Grammys (but as a Bonnie Raitt fan, I’m thrilled she won Song of the Year). Nor did I make it to any of the NFL Experience events leading up to the Super Bowl. Thankfully, I got out of Arizona before the big game so I could be in front of a TV back here in Minnesota to rank the ads and see if the game lived up to the many one-score games I watched the Vikings win this past season. The Super Bowl was a close game and ended as we might have expected: The winners celebrate, and the losers complain about that one bad holding penalty call.

“What if the Holy Spirit put your church building in your neighborhood/township/community for a reason?”

Council members from San Pablo/Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church and Siloa Lutheran Church share best practices during a workshop presentation.

I left behind the hoopla of the Grammys and Super Bowl week for something more amazing and fulfilling – the Minneapolis Area Synod Tool Kit!

I love, love, love the Tool Kit – subtitled “Workshops for Congregational Leaders.” As your friendly middle judicatory bureaucrat, I’m still a parish pastor at heart. So, to spend a precious Saturday morning with a bunch of dedicated church folk is so inspiring.

The people who show up at a Tool Kit are there to help their congregation be better —even though some of these very same church folks are in various stages of denial when we remind them that they are already truly gifted church leaders! This year, they came to learn about “Needs to Assets,” “Growing Young,” “Building Volunteerism,” “Connecting with the Deaf Community,” and more.

IN MY FIRST workshop, folks were eager to hear about Faith Practices and Neighboring Practices. There was a lament that many neighbors don’t even notice our churches anymore. There was the blessing and opportunity for our church folks to connect with neighbors, … as in be a neighbor rather than only serve our neighbor.

What if the Holy Spirit put your church building in your neighborhood/township/community for a reason? How might our connecting with God – through worship, prayer, a devotional life – send us out to listen and see God in our neighbors?

Discussions were highly engaged.

“The people who show up at a Tool Kit are there to help their congregation be better.”

My second workshop attendees were all church council members. Everyone there took very seriously their (for some, new) role. They must have loved connecting with each other because I had to use my confirmation teacher voice to get their attention!

They raised great questions. What makes for a good meeting? Is tension in a meeting a good thing? What are council members really overseeing? Is the constitution our friend? What is the best way for our council to listen to God, the worshippers, and the community?

Looking ahead to next year …

John’s preferred red carpet is in a congregation’s sanctuary.

Grammys? I’d rather take the red carpet walk down the center aisle of one of our churches.

John’s preferred bowl is one that includes the waters of baptism.

Super Bowl? Let’s turn to the baptismal bowl, where the water and the Word “brings about forgiveness of sins, redeems from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation to all who believe it, as the words and promises of God declare” (M. Luther, Small Catechism, ELW p. 1165).

Tool Kit 2024? What could be a better way to spend a Saturday in February? See you there.

*I attended the ELCA Youth Ministry Network’s Extravaganza in Anaheim CA. This event always delivers. Check out https://www.elcaymnet.org/

**I was on Fourth Commandment duty to spend time with my amazing 95-year-old Mom in Mesa, Arizona, for a few days.

Look at all the people in John’s workshop on successful council meetings.

By Nicholas Tangen

Two Sundays ago, I preached at Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church in East Bethel, one of the congregations participating in the Faith Practices & Neighboring Practices learning community. I’ve really enjoyed visiting the congregations in our Synod, and I’m always honored when I am invited to preach. This time, I was doubly honored, because I was also invited to do a children’s sermon.

I don’t know about you, but I always find children’s sermons to be a little risky. There just seems to be so many more variables at play. And, you’re never only preaching to the kiddos; those adults are always listening in.

But this past Sunday I took the opportunity to have the kids of the congregation model a practice and posture for community building that, in my most humble opinion, is accessible and meaningful for all ages: Discovering the gifts and strengths of our neighbors.

FOR CHURCHES FEELING a call to connect with the neighborhood and community where they gather for worship, there can be a tendency to begin that connection through a lens of need. When we talk about our neighbors and our neighborhoods, we often focus on what’s wrong and where people are hurting. But this creates a story that our neighborhoods are fundamentally deficient, which disregards the amazing gifts, strengths, and assets present in our community.

In his book Having Nothing, Possessing Everything: Finding Abundant Communities in Unexpected Places, Pastor Michael Mather says: “What makes communities healthier, stronger, and better? Growing the gifts of people who care about their neighbors, who visit each other when they’re sick and offer healing, who throw good parties to celebrate life and joy, who are talented carpenters, cooks, gardeners, administrators, organizers, and artists.”

Imagine if instead of seeing our churches as providers of services in our communities, we saw ourselves as conveners and animators of community gifts and strengths. If instead of problem solving, we focused our attention on building and supporting the capacities of our neighbors to do what they love to do and what contributes to the common good?

This imagination can begin with some very simple questions:

• “What is something you know how to do well enough that you could teach someone else?”
• “What is something you’ve always wanted to learn more about?”

From these two simple questions we can begin to discover what makes our neighbors come alive, and where we can connect them with other neighbors who have gifts to share.

So, these were the two questions I asked the kids at Our Saviour’s during the children’s sermon. And these kids named some incredible gifts!

• “I can teach someone how to do origami.”
• “I could teach someone how to draw.”
• “I could show someone how to do self-defense.”
• “I know how to paint!”

Then I sent a couple of them out into the congregation, armed with this question about gifts, and asked them to see what they could find among the adults. And, not surprisingly, we learned that were several incredible gifts present in the pews. All it took was someone to ask.

THIS CHILDREN’S SERMON reminded me that all the fear and anxiety we have about connecting with our neighbors is significantly overblown. It takes a little curiosity, an eye for seeing gifts more than needs, and the courage to talk to someone you don’t know. And these are qualities I think our kids have more experience with and less anxiety about than adults. Maybe this is part of what Jesus meant when he called on each of us to “become like children” (Matthew 18:3).

In a community, when we know and are always on the look out for our neighbors’ gifts and strengths, we will be endlessly surprised at our capacity for creativity and the common good. When we bring those people and those gifts together and ask ourselves, “what do we want to create together?,” we may discover that the stories about our deficiency and our neighborhoods as networks of needs have been greatly exaggerated. Instead, we may see that God has been up to something in our community all along, and is inviting us to take part.

So, my friends, what is something you know how to do well enough that you could teach someone else? What is something you’ve always wanted to learn? What do you think we can create together with God’s help? Let’s see what God is up to.

By Maya Bryant

This past Saturday, I sat down in the lounge of Salem Evangelical’s basement at 9:30 a.m. for a monthly Faith Practices & Neighboring Practices cohort meeting. During said meeting, we had the opportunity to take time for contemplation on our faith journeys and how they have shaped us and how we see our faith. (Shout out to Kathie Nycklemoe, one our spiritual directors, for leading this exercise splendidly.)  

There were several probing questions that we were asked to answer, including:  

1. What was an early experience of God or something “other” or “bigger”?
2. Where have you experienced the sense of the holy? What was it about this place that felt like a “thin place”? 
3. If you were to use words to describe God, what words would you use?

NOW, I FOUND THIS daunting. As someone who doesn’t identify with Christianity or the Christian ideal of God, I was taken out of my comfort zone in answering these questions.

As a spiritualist, my ideas of God and Creator are a bit different than most people I’ve encountered in my time working for the Lutheran church. But I thought myself brave enough to answer honestly and was met with kindness and grace from my Lutheran groupmates. And so, I thought I might share my contemplation exercise here answering the same questions: 

1. The earliest experience of something larger than me was when I was only three years old. It was on my first plane ride to visit family in New Jersey: being able to see the curvature of Earth; watching the cars move “like ants” across the roads; sitting so close to the clouds you could touch them if you reach through the glass. My face was glued to window for practically the whole trip.

“During last weekend’s Faith Practices and Neighboring Practices cohort meeting, we had the opportunity to take time for contemplation on our faith journeys and how they have shaped us and how we see our faith.”

2. Where have I sensed the holy? (This question was a bit more difficult for me) I will say the time I felt most equally disturbed and at peace was in high school. The summer leading into my senior year, I took a trip to Europe through a school program. One of our day stops was in Normandy, France, particularly in Caen and Lion-sur-Mer. We visited the Memorial de Caen, and then made our way to Sword Beach. I sprinted up the hill toward the waves and looked out on the ocean. I don’t remember if it was said out loud, or if it was the voice in my head, but I heard, “What a place to die. What a thing to live through.” It was breathtaking and sad. My heart ached and leapt simultaneously: walking on unlucky ground – once covered in dirt, bodies, and blood, now empty and The ocean once again was blue-green and flowing softly against the sand. The utter silence after a moment of intense chaos and violence; I will never forget it. 

3. I don’t believe God looks like a person. I don’t believe that it is within our depth as humans to understand what something that created the universe is supposed to look like. But I do know that my vision of God is like a giant embrace, … a keeper of Earth and Space, Sky and Water. I sometimes even prefer to call God, “Gaia.” Yes, it comes from the Greek goddess, but Gaia is the mother of all things, the personification of the Earth’s spirit. 

These questions are meant to draw out our understanding of our faith and what it means to us to be faithful. Do these questions draw out anything in you? Are there memories you may have forgotten? Are there people who may have faded with time?

What does your faith mean to you, and how can you share that authentically with others?  

By Emilie Bouvier

“But even more, all types of conniving methods are still being used to prevent Negroes from becoming registered voters. The denial of this sacred right is a tragic betrayal of the highest mandates of our democratic tradition. And so our most urgent request to the president of the United States and every member of Congress is to give us the right to vote.” 

–Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, “Give Us the Ballot,” address delivered at the
Prayer Pilgrimage for Freedom, May 17, 1957 

I spent some time on MLK Day yesterday reading this speech by the Rev. Dr. King, seeking to learn more about his words on voting rights in particular. Nine years after he shared these insights, the Voting Rights Act was passed as a landmark legislative victory of the Civil Rights movement. The day it was passed, the Rev. Dr. King remarked that “voting is the foundation stone of political action.” 

Fast forward 55 years to the following lines from a 2020 article about voting in Minnesota (and the most significant way in which that right is stripped away):

Minnesota passed disenfranchisement of felons with statehood in 1858, but the practice didn’t become commonplace nationally until after the Civil War — when newly emancipated African Americans gained the right to vote. … Chris Uggen, a criminologist at the University of Minnesota who studies felon voting bans, said it’s difficult to untangle race from a punishment that continues to disproportionately impact black and Indigenous people. 

ABOUT TWO YEARS AGO, the synod’s Strategic Organizing Against Racism (SOAR) team discerned that criminal justice reform was a key thread to pull in in the holy work of untangling the bonds of injustice. Our current system is set up to be one of punishment, rather than one of restorative justice, and focusing our efforts on “collateral sanctions” is to identify those punitive measures that add up, burden upon burden, falling disproportionately on black on brown communities.  

The statistics are staggering. In Minnesota African Americans make up 5% of the total population in the state but make up 31% of the population in Minnesota prisons and jails. American Indians and Alaska Natives are 1% of the total population in Minnesota, yet 8% of the incarcerated population in the state.

Take a minute to realize what that means: The 101,800 people in Minnesota who have been released from prison but are still “on paper” – that is, on probation or parole – are highly disproportionately people of color who thus are banned from voting. It comes into focus quickly that this is an issue of racial justice. In fact, this is an issue of civil rights, and an issue of democracy and justice to which we bring a unique voice as people of faith.  

“The SOAR Team discerned that criminal justice reform was a key thread to pull in in the holy work of untangling the bonds of injustice.”

As Lutherans, we believe deeply in a God of restoration, reconciliation, and redemption. We are steeped in a language, hope, grace, stories, and promises of God’s redeeming force. Our ELCA Social Statement titled “The Church and Criminal Justice: Hearing the Cries” outlines the brokenness of our criminal justice system, specifically lifting up the way the dominant narrative around crime and punishment is antithetical to our theological commitments. It states:

Prevalent views such as ‘tough on crime’ rhetoric and policies make it more difficult to see each person involved in the criminal justice system as a human being. These views effectively override the conviction that all people are created in the image of God and worthy of appropriate and compassionate responses. 

Yet these words from our social statement are not the end of our involvement in this issue; they’re just the beginning. Leaders from across our synod have been coming together to raise awareness and seek action opportunities to create change.

I’M INSPIRED BY THIS faithful work to build a future of racial equity in democratic participation. Grounded in our identity as people of restoration and reconciliation, we have an opportunity to practice love in action by raising our voices on this issue.

See, there’s a reason I was reading this particular speech from MLK yesterday. Last week Restore the Vote legislation was introduced in the Minnesota House and Senate that will seek to restore voting rights to formerly incarcerated people in our state. Hearings will continue this week and we have the opportunity as people of faith to show up and to witness to our vision of redemption. 

Here are some ways to learn more about this issue and how to get involved: 

• Watch this synod-produced video that gives background and highlights the voices of synod leaders
• Check out the various resources on the racial justice organizing page on the synod website
• Sign up for updates and action opportunities for Lutherans for Restore the Vote