From the Bishop

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

Christ is Risen!

Wherever you gathered last Sunday – masked and socially distanced in the sanctuary, on folding chairs in the church parking lot, at home on zoom – I pray the Easter Gospel came through loud and clear: Jesus Christ, crucified and risen for the sake the of the world.

This is the central affirmation of the Christian faith, the hope on which we stand.

Luther’s theology grounds us deeply in this resurrection hope. But, sometimes I wonder if Martin Luther’s central question – “How can I please a righteous and wrathful God?” – is still the question we bring to Easter morning.

“Our fear may not be of a wrathful God. Our fear may be that we are simply not worthy, lovable, good.”

In his remarkable Fosdick Lecture at Augsburg University, David Lose explores this wonderment with incredible clarity and depth.

Though we may not be as worried about pleasing an angry God, Lose argues, “we’ve never been under more pressure to prove our worth.” The combination of “inadequacy marketing” (consistent messaging that says we are not acceptable unless we purchase something to make us so) and the omnipresence of social media (that can bring the need for affirmation to minute-by-minute fervor) are tools of a world asking us to “prove our worth.”

WHAT SURPRISED ME was the third in his list of such pressures: the politics of division. In Lose’s words: “There is an incredibly toxic force … that has come up in a new way … that seeks to pit us against anyone who looks differently, believes differently, thinks differently, and votes differently. … [It] invites us to craft an identity that is not helpful, but always in opposition. It’s more important to know who you’re not and who you’re against, than who you’re for.”

Given such forces, Lose argues that “the pressure to justify ourselves whether by possessions or beauty or wealth or power has never been greater … to our detriment and to that of others.” Lose punctuates this thought with a marvelous quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer: “Self-justification and judging go together, as justification by grace and serving others go together.” (emphases mine)

“Though we may not be as worried about pleasing an angry God, Lose argues, ‘we’ve never been under more pressure to prove our worth.’”

So, what is the question we bring to Easter? Am I good enough? Worthy enough? What is the question you bring?

It may not sound exactly like Luther’s. Our fear may not be of a wrathful God. Our fear may be that we are simply not worthy, lovable, good. And, the Easter Gospel speaks exactly to that. Grace, Justification, the Good News are, in Lose’s words, “God’s declaration that we are loved and accepted and declared worthy and holy.”

Baptized into this identity, joined to Christ’s death and resurrection, we are declared “good,” and freed to love and serve our neighbor.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

Exodus 2:11: One day, after Moses had grown up, he went out to his people and saw their forced labour. He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his kinsfolk. 

Growing up in a small Montana town, I could not imagine how the trial of a single police officer would provoke the attention and action of thousands across the globe. I grew up, a white child, thinking the system of policing was just, good, and served everyone equally.

Like the prophet Moses, I now see things I once ignored.

“I grew up, a white child, thinking the system of policing was just, good, and served everyone equally.”

“The policing system in our country was profoundly shaped by the racism used to justify slavery and genocide.” 

Reading The New Jim Crow or Just Mercy, watching the documentary 13th, or seeing the movie, The Hate You Give have been experiences akin to that of Moses seeing the forced labor and beatings of his people.

The policing system in our country was profoundly shaped by the racism used to justify slavery and genocide.     

If police officers aren’t held responsible for actions supported by systemic racism, there is little reason to hope that our call to dismantle systemic racism will be effective.

I HAVE LIVED FOR 65 years without needing to tell my children or grandchildren to fear the police. That has not been the experience of parents who are Black and Brown. I am humbled and grateful that BIPOC siblings have been open to sharing these heartbreaking stories with me. During the days and weeks of this trial, may we all take time to listen to parallel experiences. (You might start with the books and media listed above.)

And, while listening, ask: Is there any chance that – in our lifetimes – there could come a day when such conversations will not be necessary?  

“I have lived for 65 years without needing to tell my children or grandchildren to fear the police.”

That will only occur if police officers are held responsible for their actions supported by systemic racism.

During the days ahead, we pray, we listen to our BIPOC siblings, and we – like Moses – seek God’s guidance for how we are called to work towards God’s vision of justice and shalom.

*For a deeper understanding of the ELCA’s position on the importance of the criminal justice system and the need for reform, see The Church and Criminal Justice: Hearing the Cries.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

What is the first thing you will do once the pandemic subsides? Will you take a family reunion? Are you longing for in-person worship? Do you want to take a trip to someplace fun and unusual?

There’s so much I yearn to do once restrictions are lifted and we can return to “normal.” And yet, in this surreal space of restrictions and waiting, I challenge us to think whether “returning to normal” is what we truly want – or what our global home can bear.

“We have been charged to be caretakers of creation.”

In his opinion piece in the January 25 edition of The New York Times, Roy Scranton, Notre Dame professor and director of its Environmental Humanities Initiative, describes this challenge more succinctly and powerfully than I. He writes:

It’s easy to forget that 2020 gave us not just the pandemic, but also the West Coast’s worst fire season, as well as the most active Atlantic hurricane season, … huge wildfires in both the Amazon and the Arctic, … the collapse of the last fully intact ice shelf in the Canadian Arctic, and increasing odds that the global climate system has passed the point where feedback dynamics take over and the window of possibility for preventing catastrophe closes. …

More alarming, recent observed increases in atmospheric methane, a greenhouse gas more than 80 times stronger than carbon dioxide over the short term, are so large that if they continue they could effectively overwhelm the pledged emissions reductions in the Paris Agreement, even if those reductions were actually happening. Which they’re not.

According to the climatologist Michael Mann, “The more observations we get, the more sophisticated our models become, the more we’re learning that things can happen faster, and with a greater magnitude, than we predicted just years ago.”

Going back to normal now means returning to a course that will destabilize the conditions for all human life, everywhere on earth. Normal means more fires, more category 5 hurricanes, more flooding, more drought, millions upon millions more migrants fleeing famine and civil war, more crop failures, more storms, more extinctions, more record-breaking heat. Normal means the increasing likelihood of civil unrest and state collapse, of widespread agricultural failure and collapsing fisheries, of millions of people dying from thirst and hunger, of new diseases, old diseases spreading to new places and the havoc of war. Normal could well mean the end of global civilization as we know it.

Spurred on to read more perspectives on the looming crisis, I have already reserved my copy of How to Avoid a Climate Disaster by Bill Gates – a more optimistic spirit than Roy Scranton – and pray I will find more heartening news about the way forward.

AND YET, I DON’T imagine even Bill Gates can promise that returning to “normal” can prevent the crisis before us. Again, in the words of Professor Scranton:

In March last year, watching an unknown plague stalk the land, I felt fear, but I also felt hope: the hope that this virus, as horrible as it might be, could also give us the chance to really understand and internalize the fragility and transience of our collective existence. I hoped we might recognize not only that fossil-fuel-driven consumer capitalism was likely to destroy everything we loved, but that we might actually be able to do something about it.

What can we do?

• First, we must find ourselves centered in the reality that our cloud of witnesses have often faced overwhelming events. Surround yourself in the awareness that you can’t do it alone, even though you do have a part to play.
• Find others in your congregation or as part of the synod’s EcoFaith team to think strategically about how to address the problem in those places where you are able.
• Consider other voices – marginalized voices – as you become engaged. It is just such listening that informs my thinking about addressing the Line 3 construction.
• Become better equipped to discuss the challenge before us. Perhaps you can find people who will read both the books by Bill Gates and Roy Scranton with you.
• Find tangible ways that make some difference (even though it is not enough in-and-of-itself). While spending untold hours in our home, we discovered that air-drying our clothes can reduce the average household’s carbon footprint by 2,400 pounds a year. (Sometimes, during my Zoom calls, you can see those clothes hanging on the line my husband Bill created.) You will feel more empowered to take on bigger issues when you have “skin in the game.”

“Consider other voices – marginalized voices – as you become engaged.”

We have been charged to be caretakers of creation. Today, we are becoming more aware that we are part of creation, and that our caretaking must sometimes mean undoing harm we have caused. We can become overwhelmed to the point of inaction by this realization. But, together as a community of faith, we can follow a shared calling to be healers of the breach. Together, we can dream that, though our collective existence may be fragile, the future is yet unwritten and we are co-creators by our thought, words, and deeds.

May we all be filled with the hope that the One who creates also re-creates in the moments when that is most necessary, … and the re-creation includes us.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

Epiphany 2021 is forever marked as the day our Capitol was breached by an angry and violent mob; the day our country was betrayed by threats to human life and the institutions of democracy.

No one could close their eyes to the horror. And, from Majority Leader Mitch McConnell to Speaker Nancy Pelosi, leaders across the political spectrum spoke to condemn what they saw.

But not just our national leaders were riveted by the day’s events. The whole global family watched. Indeed, Archbishop Musa Filibus from our companion synod in Nigeria called me within the first hour of the riot, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Epiphany 2021. Actually, the word epiphany means revelation or manifestation. We will likely never forget what was revealed to us last Wednesday.

OH, MOSTLY WE ASSUME that epiphanies are good: the magi recognizing Jesus as the Messiah, the disciples recognizing the risen Christ on the road to Emmaus.

But, scripture also describes epiphanies that are not so positive – moments when God opens our eyes to personal sin or corporate evil. And God’s judgment often follows such epiphanies. Before the fall of Israel, the word of God was heard: “I know how many are your transgressions, and how great are your sins— you who afflict the righteous, who take a bribe, and push aside the needy in the gate.” (Amos 5:12)

“No one could close their eyes to the horror.”

God knows. God sees. A veil has been lifted. (Make that many veils.) On Epiphany 2021, we saw clearly that:

• Angry rhetoric from leaders can lead to violence, injury, and death
• Christian symbols can be used to support idolatrous Christian nationalism
• Racial bias in law enforcement is real – evidenced by how Black Lives Matter protesters were treated much more aggressively than those in Wednesday’s mob
• Only since 1965 have we been multi-racial democracy; our work in dismantling white supremacy is far from over

Perhaps, the most redemptive epiphany I saw was when adversaries across partisan lines stood together in shared horror and denunciation. Could it be that something was finally broken open on Wednesday? Something revealed to compel us all – on every side of the aisle – to take seriously the current reality we face? Is there a chance we can now turn that shared horror and condemnation into a shared commitment to do something?

“Truth-telling is not the final act.”

Whether it be repentance or reformation, the work begins with honesty. Prophets like Amos spoke hard truths. “Here is sin. Here is brokenness.”

It begins with honesty. But it doesn’t end there.

Truth-telling is not the final act. In the words of Walter Brueggemann:
The church has two principal tasks in our time, I propose:
   – to practice grief in the face of denial by truth-telling;
   – to practice hope in the face of despair by promise-telling.

As people of the cross and resurrection, we have hope in the power of God to bring life even in the midst of death. We have hope in “the God who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist” (Romans 4:17) and “is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20). Our hope is based in God’s resolve to gather all heaven and earth together in one community of justice, peace, and love.

We resist denial; we refuse despair. And together – for it’s only together – we live out the “hope that is in us,” following Jesus in a life of discipleship.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

“Where have you experienced God’s sustaining presence in the past year? In what new or surprising way has God been revealed?”

This was the question asked by a good friend in a monthly Zoom conversation I share with other female church leaders. (Yes, it’s a peer group!). The answers were beautifully varied:

• I’ve sensed God at work in the spiritual direction group I joined with Lutherans and Catholics.
• I am finding a renewed sense of call during retirement, having recently been asked to serve in a way that requires my particular expertise.
• I have heard my adult children share their concerns and protectiveness about my health, and it has felt like a fresh experience of unconditional love.

Where have you experienced God’s sustaining presence in the past year?

2020 WILL BE REMEMBERED for our shared experience as a global family – watching a novel coronavirus spread throughout the world. At the same time, our individual experience of 2020 is as unique as we are.

Some people used every dollar of their stimulus check to feed their children. Others, whose paychecks remained stable, gave it all away. Some watched their businesses shrink and finally closed their doors. Others watched their portfolio grow, especially in proportion to their investments in technology. Some watched on FaceTime as a loved one died. Others tested positive for COVID-19 without experiencing a symptom.

“A simple conversation can be one of the most profound ways we experience God’s sustaining presence.”

As you reflect on 2020, I encourage you also to ask this question: Where have I experienced God’s sustaining presence in the past year?

Oh, this is not always an easy question to answer. And, some years, it will be much harder than in other years. I remember times when my prayer was closer to “O God, why are you silent? I cannot hear your voice.” (ELW 703).  If that is your cry today, I encourage to reach out to your pastor or a friend in faith. A simple conversation can be one of the most profound ways we experience God’s sustaining presence.

Christmas proclaims God Incarnate who – deep in the flesh – experiences human life in all its wonder, in all its heartache. God is not removed from our unique, individual journeys. God is present.

This is God’s promise in 2021 – and always.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

Last night, I realized my husband has a special calling – preparing warm campfires so our family can gather outdoors during the pandemic. I had no idea Bill had this gift.

What special new calling have you discovered for yourself during the pandemic? I wish I could say that mine is videography – but I’ve found that sermons now take more time to record and download than to prepare. (Where’s that good light? What happened to the box used to raise the computer camera? Why did my computer shut down when the MP4 was only half loaded? Do I have to start all over … again?)

“It’s a true Advent moment – celebrating the fulfillment of a hope held for so long.”

I imagine Mary was beyond surprised when the angel Gabriel appeared announcing a new call in her life. We refer to this event as the Annunciation, but I think it’s really a Call Story. When you look closely at Luke 1, you see how it follows the pattern of Biblical call narratives – like that of Moses and Isaiah. The pattern includes a greeting (1:28), a startled reaction (1:29), an exhortation not to fear (1:30), a divine commission (1:31-33), an objection (1:34), a reassurance (1:35), and the offer of a confirming sign (1:36-37).

Read Luke 1 next to Exodus 3 and you will note the similarities with the call of Moses. (See Mark Allan Powell, Working Preacher, December 21, 2014.)

DECEMBER 20, 2020, MARKS the 50^th anniversary of the ordination of Barbara Andrews, the first woman in the American Lutheran Church (ALC) to be ordained. She was called to serve Edina Community Lutheran Church, a congregation in our synod. December 20 of this year is also the Sunday when we hear Mary’s Call Story.

What a wonderful way to celebrate the church’s vote – affirming that “yes” women who have experienced the Spirit’s call – like Mary or Moses – and may indeed be allowed to serve the church as ordained pastors. It’s a true Advent moment – celebrating the fulfillment of a hope held for so long; a hope held through multiple church debates and discussions. In the ALC, even the vote was tight: 560 to 414 (57%). But the church decided. And so much has changed.

“Like people living through a pandemic, Mary saw changes in her calling throughout her life.”

Oh, like people living through a pandemic, Mary saw changes in her calling throughout her life. Simeon soon announced that her call would include the “piercing of her soul.” There are new chapters for all of us as we follow God’s calling in our lives, especially during the uncertainties of a global pandemic. So, we take time to listen to the Spirit – and to the prophets of today like Simeon and Anna. We look to the witness of saints like Mary and Moses, as well as Barbara Andrews, for courage and faith.

And through it all, through all the chapters of our lives, we can trust in the abiding presence of God, Emmanuel, with us always.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

What does “discipleship in a democracy” look like after the 2020 election? (Among the many gems in our ELCA Social Message on government is the phrase “discipleship in a democracy” used in the title.)

“Listen more than speak.”

So much can be said about our callings as Christians in this moment – more than a weekly blog can name. I’d like to highlight two practices:

• Give thanks for democracy: Whatever your feelings about the election results, give thanks that more than 160 million people voted. That’s a record number of votes in any year – even more remarkable since it occurred during a global pandemic.
• Commit to rebuilding the fabric of democracy: We need each other. We need a diversity of opinions, life-experiences, strategies, and perspectives. Welcoming diversity is key – as foundational as Paul’s affirmation that “there are many members, yet one body,” and “the eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you.’” It describes the genius of Lincoln in choosing a “team of rivals” as his cabinet. It resounds through the best team-building tools, one of which states that the “absence of conflict” is a sign of disfunction.

Yes, we are committed to justice and the dignity of every human life. Discipleship in a democracy means we strive tirelessly for those ends. But, we also care deeply about the means. Mending the fabric of our democracy is a complex process, but it includes some simple things:

• Ask yourself how many conversation partners you have who are part of the 70-plus million who cast votes different from yours. Commit yourself to finding more.
• Listen more than speak.
• Start with curiosity. “I’m not sure I understand your point of view, please tell me more.”
• Find topics of agreement and commonality and build on those.
• Rigorously avoid insults and shaming; speak up when you see it happening.
• Find partners in your congregation who will join with you in this work.

SOME HAVE CALLED the task of Christian discipleship after the 2020 election as one of peacemaking. Though I hadn’t thought of it as peacemaking before, I guess our work to stop dehumanization in politics, to foster renewed relationships across difference of opinion, and to find ways forward toward the common good is a pretty essential kind of peacemaking.

“Discipleship in a democracy means we strive tirelessly for those ends. But, we also care deeply about the means.”

As Lincoln wrote in another time of great polarization: “Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. … The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise with the occasion.”

God give us faith, love, wisdom, and courage for days we face – together.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

Where do you find hope? In the polarization leading up to the election, what hope sustains you?

I shouldn’t be surprised that I find hope in the writings of Marilynne Robinson. The honest hope in her books, Gilead and Lila and, perhaps, her latest book, Jack (though I’m still 115 on the library waiting list to check it out), have long been a source of sustenance for me.

In looking for hope as I prepare for the November 3 election, I keep returning to Robinson’s October 9 editorial in the New York Times: “Don’t Give Up on America.”

“What do you do when you love something that’s in crisis? Well, you don’t give up on it.”

She begins by declaring her love for America: “I have spent most of my life studying American history and literature because of a deep if sometimes difficult affinity I would call love.”

Her love rests firmly on our country’s affirmation from the beginning that all people are created equal. For Robinson, “The ethic that ‘human beings are sacred, therefore equal,’ should be the standard by which we judge ourselves, our social arrangements, our dealings with the vast family of humankind.”

That said, the ethic “will always find us wanting. [It] is a progressive force, constantly and necessarily exposing our failures and showing us new paths forward.”

AS WE LOOK TOWARD November 3, we may have an even deeper sense of being “found wanting.” Conspiracy theories about election fraud and suspicions about voting legitimacy challenge the very core of democracy.

As Robinson laments, “If the one civic exercise (the electoral process) that gives legitimacy to our government defaults, we will … have to find [a] word other than ‘democracy’ to describe whatever we will have become.”

So, what do you do when you love something that’s in crisis? Well, you don’t give up on it. You double down, bring all that you have to the effort, all hands on deck. What might that look like in your life?

“Marilynne Robinson’s love for America rests firmly on our country’s affirmation from the beginning that all people are created equal.”

“This country was, from the outset, a tremendous leap of faith,” writes Robinson. “Our history to the present day is proof that people find justice hard to reach and sustain.”

Still, she concludes, “There is much to be done, more than inevitably limited people can see at a given moment. But the other side of our limitation is the fact that it carries with it a promise that we still might see a new birth of freedom, and another one beyond that. Democracy is the great instrument of human advancement. We have no right to fail it.”

So we vote. And, as leaders of communities, we encourage others to vote. We do it out of love – for our country and for our neighbor – and because we follow Jesus, seeking the welfare of all.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

In the past seven months, what special event(s) have you missed because of COVID-19? In the synod, five new pastors were ordained recently – in worship services completely different from what they had anticipated. Some were outside, all were physically distanced, and all had smaller crowds. I’ve led installations that were recorded for showing later on Facebook and sent digital 100^th anniversary greetings.

“We stand on the shoulders of all who worked to reform our church leading up to the historic votes in 1970.”

My grandson Noah’s baptism has been delayed several months and will now happen outside on Saturday. Still, I haven’t had to postpone a family wedding or conduct the funeral of loved one with just ten people gathered around a grave. There is real grief flowing from the loss of such gatherings.

And, we pray for one another as we grieve the large and small losses the pandemic brings to our lives.

I AM BOTH grieving, as well as feeling guilty about, how COVID-19 has interrupted our plans to celebrate the 50^th anniversary of our church’s decision to ordain women. We stand on the shoulders of all who worked to reform our church leading up to the historic votes in 1970. We are grateful for pioneers like Elizabeth Platz and Barbara Andrews, the first women ordained in the Lutheran Church in America (LCA) and the American Lutheran Church (ALC); for the persistence of pioneers like Earleen Miller, the first woman of color ordained, albeit ten years after the historic vote; and for all our LGBTQ siblings who waited for 40 more years.

Our first celebration was scheduled for March 26, just a few weeks after COVID-19 was declared a global pandemic. The synod didn’t even have a Zoom account yet.

“Fifty years ago, our church had the courage to reorder its understanding of ordination – breaking open a door that had been closed for millennia.”

Our second celebration was scheduled for April 24. We had planned a festive worship service with Bishop April Larson preaching, and a celebratory wine-and-cheese reception afterwards. These events would have opened the 2020 Synod Assembly.

Each of these gatherings were cancelled.

NOW, THE ROSTERED leaders of the Minneapolis Area Synod plan to celebrate this historic anniversary of women’s ordination at our Joint Ministerium with the rostered leaders of Saint Paul Area Synod on Thursday, October 29.  Although we will host it using Zoom, we will try our hardest to bring “recognition, celebration, and joy!” At the center of the morning will be a panel of pastors – Babette Chatman, Liz Eide, Marlene Helgemo, Jen Nagel, and Megan Torgerson. We will show video clips of the historic vote, sing songs of the journey, tells stories of innovation and resilience, and share hopes for the next fifty years.

“Jubilee Reclaimed: The Time is Now” is our synod focus for this year. Like the radical reordering of life described in Scripture’s description of the Jubilee Year; this year has challenged us to reconsider and reorder our relationships:

• The COVID-19 pandemic is challenging us to reconsider our relationship to God’s creation.
• The murder of George Floyd and the global cries for justice challenge us to reconsider our relationships with each other.
• The recession and the disparities in healthcare cause us to reconsider our relationship in the global economy.

Fifty years ago, our church had the courage to reorder its understanding of ordination – breaking open a door that had been closed for millennia. We had the courage to make a way so that women – half of our church’s population – could be become pastors.

This year, we celebrate the Jubilee Anniversary of our church’s decision to ordain women. May it bring us courage, wisdom, and resilience as we reclaim God’s Jubilee for all God’s beloved relationships.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

Should I vote by mail? Should I vote before November 3 at Early Vote Center?

If I vote on election day, will I risk getting COVID-19?

When can I expect the election results?

The questions surrounding November 3 seem to grow more complicated by the day. Christian Century notes that at least 500 international observers are planning to watch over the complexities surrounding America’s 2020 election. After years of monitoring other nation’s elections, this is an interesting reversal of roles.

“The questions surrounding November 3 seem to grow more complicated by the day.”

Yes, the questions abound. But, not the most basic question. Why vote? For the baptized people of God, voting is part of discipleship. Voting is a way we love our neighbor. Theologian Cynthia Moe-Lobeda notes that neighbor-love is the norm for followers of Jesus and it bears certain characteristics, including:

1. Neighbor-love serves the well-being of those who are loved.
2. Neighbor-love pertains to whomever my life touches directly or through social or ecological systems.
3. Neighbor-love seeks justice.
4. Neighbor-love is political.

LAST JUNE, the ELCA church council unanimously approved Government and Civic Engagement in the United States: Discipleship in a Democracy, providing more detailed characteristics of neighbor-love in the public square. The statement, proudly prompted by a 2019 memorial from the Minneapolis Area Synod, might be good devotional reading in these weeks before your November 3 decisions are made. Two brief quotes:

The ELCA holds to the biblical idea that God calls God’s people to be active citizens and to ensure that everyone benefits from the good of government (Jeremiah 29:7, Romans 13:1-7).

This church also strongly affirms voting, guided by faith-based values, as an exercise in citizenship. (Emphases in bold were added by me.)

“Neighbor-love pertains to whomever my life touches directly or through social or ecological systems.”

If you’d like even more background on what the ELCA recognizes as “faith-based values,” you can turn to the ELCA’s 28 social statements and messages. To my mind, these are remarkable gems our church offers all who seek guidance from Scripture and Lutheran theology for what neighbor-love means in today’s world.

However, if 28 social statements seem daunting, another option would be to register to watch a webinar this Thursday evening titled the Before We Vote Virtual Summit. The event is sponsored by the ELCA African Descent Strategy Team (ADST), the African Descent Ministries (ADM) desk, and the ELCA’s Advocacy office.

Finally, I invite us to devote ourselves to consistent prayerfulness in the weeks before and after the 2020 election. These are difficult days. And, we pray for God’s transformative power at work in the world so that all creation might flourish.