Staff Blogs

By Pastor Craig Pederson

While our locations are on opposite sides of the globe, our experiences over the past several weeks are remarkably similar:

• Some communities feel like they may be islands of respite from COVID-19, but then the first case is confirmed and they realize life is forever changed;
• Travelers from one part of the country to another bring the likelihood of accelerated coronavirus transmission;
• The closure of major businesses throws many out of work, disrupts supply chains, and causes increasing mobility as desperate workers seek employment elsewhere;
• The possibility of a 14-day national lockdown to slow the spread of the virus causes a surge in demand for food, medicine, and personal items -– a surge driven by both prudent planning and panicked buying; 
• Concerns about crime increase as food becomes more scarce in already disadvantaged communities;
• Misinformation about the origins and transmission of the coronavirus adds to the anxiety and confusion of an already complex public health situation.

These are the conditions being experienced both here in our Minneapolis Area Synod and with our Global Companion partner half a world away, the Lutheran Church of Christ in Nigeria (LCCN).  

My heart sank last week when I saw multiple news reports from northeastern Nigeria — where LCCN is primarily located — showing chaotic and sometimes violent scenes around hunger relief trucks that were being overrun by desperate residents who had depleted all of their food resources. 

“Archbishop Filibus and the bishops of the nine dioceses in the LCCN are seen as credible leaders in their communities.”

Then, just a few days later, Bishop Svennungsen received an email plea from LCCN Archbishop Musa Filibus requesting assistance from our synod in dealing with the rapidly increasing hunger situation. In part, Archbishop Filibus wrote:

By midnight Friday 24 April, the government is most likely to announce a national lockdown [NOTE: This lockdown did take effect}. This is extremely difficult because an estimated 60% or more struggle daily for their livelihoods and they cannot afford a 14-day lockdown. Hunger and COVID-19 lockdown cannot go together. We can see already that crime will increase — people have to eat to stay indoors. Already the Bishop of Abuja where the lockdown has been more intense tells us that people are now caught between COVID-19 and hunger. Many have no choice but to go out against the restrictions for their survival. 

While this is a clear Macedonian call for help (Acts 16:4-10), it should also be noted that the LCCN is far from helpless in the fight against the coronavirus. Archbishop Filibus and the bishops of the nine dioceses in the LCCN are seen as credible leaders in their communities. Filibus has posted public service announcements to explain and demystify how coronavirus works, and government officials have asked to broadcast his videos on television. LCCN will also launch an appeal to receive donations in anticipation of worsening hunger conditions in the coming weeks and months.

BUT OUR SIBLINGS in Christ have asked for help. The Minneapolis Area Synod Council is responding to Archbishop Filibus’ request by sending $35,000 from the synod’s Resurrection Fund to provide financial support for food assistance. This amount comes out of the “tithe” portion of the Resurrection Fund that is designated to support ministries outside of the boundaries of our synod. This is a tangible, timely action to live out the mantra we’ve been hearing about the coronavirus battle — that “we are all in this together.”

Anyone interested in contributing additional funds to this LCCN hunger relief effort may send a check to the Minneapolis Area Synod and designate it to “LCCN COVID-19 Relief.”

Meanwhile, we continue to reach out to the churches of our synod to listen, encourage, and respond to ministry needs and opportunities as we are able. We are in this together, in the unity of the Resurrected Christ who brings light and new life in dark and difficult places. 

By Pastor John Hulden

A friend of mine asked for laments on her Facebook page last week. All day Good Friday, while in quarantine, she fasted and prayed those laments aloud. This was her way to be in community while physically apart.  

John’s writing his thank you notes by hand, … and in a blog!

A pandemic is surely a time for lament. People are sick from this virus. We fear this virus, and for good reason. This virus is a killer, and it will keep killing people, young and old, for weeks and months to come. We must be vigilant. We must “shelter in place” — or my preferred phrase, “just stay put!” We need to listen to the scientists and the epidemiologists, now and in the future.

“Despite the radical changes imposed on our lives by this pandemic, I witnessed Minneapolis Area Synod congregations celebrating the Festival of the Resurrection yesterday.”

I’ve already lost count of how many weeks we’ve been in quarantine. Then, yesterday happened. Easter! Christ is Risen. Christ is Risen, indeed!

Despite the radical changes imposed on our lives by this pandemic, and still holding on to the many laments we carry and share. … nevertheless, I witnessed Minneapolis Area Synod congregations celebrating the Festival of the Resurrection yesterday. Wow! I saw amazing creativity and resiliency in adapting to these forced changes in our lives and in our way of doing and being church. So today, on Easter Monday, I have one overwhelming feeling: Gratefulness.

MAY MY LIST OF “thank yous,” in no particular order, encourage you to remember to be grateful during this time of lament.

Thank you, Ignatius, Mom, and Jimmy Fallon, … for reminding me to write thank yous.

Thank you, sister out in Washington State, … for driving Mom over to see our big brother (staying six feet away).

Thank you, God, … that Jesus didn’t stay dead.

Thank you, parents in our synod, … for leading faith activities at home.

Thank you, “mute” and “stop video” buttons, … on Zoom calls.

Thank you, Lutheran theology, … for teaching us that God works through the government. 

Thank you, church techy people on the backside of the cameras and in front of soundboards, … for helping our congregations use the internet more effectively.

Thank you, Creator, … for the super moon last week and for spring.

Thank you, pastors and deacons, … for morphing into pandemic televangelists.

Thank you, Facebook messenger, … so this grandma can connect with our adorable grandson after his haircut.

Thank you, women at the tomb, … for going to the cemetery even though resurrections were illegal.

Thank you, justice organizer colleagues, … for your upcoming email on new ways to love your neighbor.

Thank you, King David, … for the Psalms.

Thank you, church staff people, … for your creative leadership and dedication.

Thank you for Zoom games … like escape room and home scavenger hunt (someone yells out an item, the first one back with the item wins, but don’t yell out scissors — because you shouldn’t run with scissors).

Thank you, stimulus package, … so congregations can keep paying their staff.

Thank you, Bill Withers and John Prine, … for poetry, melodies, and legacies through song.

Thank you, health care workers, … and the workers, family,  and friends who help health care workers.

Thank you, church musicians, … for continuing to use your talents to help us worship.

Thank you, happy thoughts, … drawn with chalk art. Photo credit: Katie Schroeder (Sons Peter, 7, and Julian, 5, were the chalk artists.)

Thank you for the upcoming stimulus checks; … may those who are able give that money to the poor. 

Thank you, hearts, … for being on so many windows.

Thank you for creativity … that erupts from living and working with severe limits.

Thank you, scientists, … for being so smart.

Thank you for deep learning; … may this disruption help the Spirit unveil to us what is really important.

Thank you, Palestinian Christian leader Nora Carmi, … for your words: 

Let me tell you something from the land where the whole thing actually happened. In Easter 2020, we get to celebrate like the first disciples did. There wasn’t ‘church’ or ‘priests’ or fancy worship services — there was only the good news that Jesus had risen from the dead! Now go and tell it as fast as you can! (quoted in an email from Sojourners Magazine 4/7/2020)

By Bob Hulteen

I remember sitting at a retreat center the first time I went through a training on crisis communications. I remember worrying that just using the word “crisis” would stir a whole bunch of emotions. Weeks like the last one can put a communicator on edge.

How do you respond when you find yourself in a crisis situation – like our collective experience of the COVID-19 pandemic? Is your gut instinct to be highly anxious and take e9, ery precaution possible? Or, rather, is t to completely downplay the situation and become skeptical of every red flag and precaution taken? Do you find yourself scrolling endlessly through web pages for information about Coronavirus or trying to shut the laptop off entirely and watch Netflix instead?

It’s helpful to check in with ourselves and know our primary way of coping with all the new, hard, and life-shifting information being thrown our way on a daily and hourly basis. Our own stress is real. Suddenly a normal day becomes full of hundreds of individual choices that now not only impact your own health but the health and safety of others.

“Do you find yourself scrolling endlessly through web pages for information about Coronavirus or trying to shut the laptop off entirely and watch Netflix instead?”

Now, this all becomes even more complicated when you need to not only deal with your personal responses and the disentangling of information and unfolding collective situation, but are also the person making and/or communicating decisions to a whole community (that you are called to love and care for). That is no easy task.

Pastor Andy Romstad sagely quoted Michael Leavitt in this week’s notice to his congregation about worship plans: “Everything we do before a pandemic will seem alarmist. Everything we do after will seem inadequate.”

THERE IS NO magic bullet during a time such as this. But, we can provide is calm leadership (even when we don’t feel calm) grounded in our values, and walk with folks as we deal with this crisis together in community.

Tone is the first communications consideration in stressful times. Urgent appeals must sometimes be made, but they don’t need to be made urgently. Once our reptilian brain is engaged by another’s heightened energy, our response can become antithetical to the best outcome possible. Communicators, even while relaying challenging information, can provide a context that allows for deeper understanding and less aggressive instincts to take over.

“We can have social connecting even as we have physical distancing.”

Can you hear a difference in tone and do you respond differently to these two quotations: First, “Effective immediately, due to the Coronavirus epidemic, all services are cancelled until further noticed.” As opposed to this: “Our leadership has been in regular conversation and has decided that, out of concern for our neighbor both near and far, we will suspend public worship and events at our congregation for the foreseeable future. We will regularly update you to unfolding plans, and hope that you will contact us with concerns and prayer needs so that we might stay in contact with you.”

The second iteration invites into the process. The first simply pronounces, which can lead to suspicion and apprehension.

As a side note, keep this in mind when you as a communicator are on social media. Be a presence that builds understanding more than extinguishes it. Even as you deal honestly with your own fears and concerns, find wording and images that invite rather than divide. Perhaps, after you have typed your post or your tweet, take two disciplined breaths and consider if your words will create the impact you desire.

WORDS, OF COURSE, ARE also important. We want to reflect clearly our values in the way we talk about crises. As Christians, we can talk about our call to love neighbors. Normally that call drives us into social relationships that includes opportunities to be present together – in worship, in service. But, in this moment, loving our neighbor likely means staying home from those activities, at least some of them. And, we should be very intentional about the precautions we take if we do gather with other people.

We are being told by professionals that maintaining physical distance from other people is the way we will be able to suppress the spread of the virus. It is, in fact, loving the neighbor. And, such intentional distancing is also the only way that our health care system can build the capacity to stay on top of the pandemic.

And, we can have social connecting even as we have physical distancing. Through our encounters with people, we can encourage them to maintain their social connection in other ways – phone calling, letter writing, emailing, texting.

“Even as you deal honestly with your own fears and concerns, find wording and images that invite rather than divide.”

We also need to be explicit in our talk about generosity in times of communal challenge. We are community together/ church together. As the Body of Christ, we incarnate our hope by living into our call to live for the sake of the world. That includes supporting financially our own congregations, as well as our ministry organizations like Lutheran Disaster Response. And, it requires awareness of those neighborhood partners – nonprofits and social service agencies – that must also continue to serve the needs around our congregations.

Last week Bishop Ann has said, “In a health crisis, we may need to find and create new ways to share the good news, to practice communal prayer, to provide mutual support, and to build beloved community.”

For a time such as this, we are all called to be agents of good communication. We embody our aspirations by speaking words that are honest and true, but also confident and calming. We, all of us, professional communicator or not, can be tangible signs of hope in our communities.

By Pr. Craig Pederson

It’s Monday afternoon, and the last thing I thought I’d be doing right now is writing a blog entry. I expected to be packing and preparing for my family’s Spring Break vacation that was to start tomorrow. Our destination: Los Angeles and San Francisco for 10 days of fun in the sun. Yay!

You can probably see where this is going. After much consternation and conversation, we decided to cancel our vacation because of concerns about the coronavirus. The possibility of a major outbreak while we were there, along with the risk of Lisa and our kids being exposed to the virus and possibly not being allowed to return to school for two weeks when we return (Lisa works at their school), were simply too much. And, my synod office colleagues probably wouldn’t be thrilled with a coronavirus carrier in their midst either.

So I’m back in the office today and have a relatively open calendar for the next week and a half. Our family has talked about substituting a shorter getaway locally, … and the unexpected gift of this additional free time means, of course, that we can do more projects around the house. Yay again!

Not wanting to miss an opportunity, our trusty Communications Director Bob Hulteen said, “Hey, we have an opening on the blog schedule this week. Do you want to write something?” “Uhm, … sure!” was my ultimate response.

Actually, this affords me the opportunity to share a story that has been on my mind in recent weeks, another story involving the unexpected gift of being in a situation far different than was anticipated.

OUR REDEEMER OROMO Evangelical Church (OROEC) is a vibrant congregation in the South Minneapolis Conference of our synod.  While vibrant, they have also lived in a state of conflict and anxiety for the past 2 ½ years.

A bit of background: OROEC experienced a split in 2012 after debating the implications for their church following the ELCA’s 2009 vote to ordain LGBTQ pastors living in committed relationships. Many of OROEC’s members were affiliated with the Ethiopian Evangelical Church Mekane Yesus in Ethiopia before coming to the United States. Mekane Yesus has a conservative biblical and theological understanding of LGBTQ issues. While they were grateful for the ELCA’s hospitality and support of establishing OROEC here, some OROEC members could not align themselves with the ELCA’s inclusive stance. Those members ultimately left OROEC and started a new church.

“As you can see, one of the inspiring characteristics of OROEC is their confident, faithful reliance on the will of God to lead them.”

To the surprise of many OROEC leaders and long-time members, this issue came back up again in 2017. The causes and motivations for the recurrence of this issue are complex and not pertinent here, but I will say that this time around the schism threatened to break the congregation.

OROEC spent over two years in conversation, prayer, Bible study, and discernment about how they might retain their ELCA identity, respect the different views of their members, and remain in relationship with local Oromo churches from other denominations who disagreed with them on this issue. Bishop Ann and I met several times with both sides of what came to be known as the “Stay-ELCA” and “Exit-ELCA” factions, but the schism was deeply embedded and reconciliation was elusive.

Members of the Exit-ELCA group achieved a majority on the Church Council in 2019. They initiated the constitutional process to leave the ELCA last summer, and they organized both active and inactive members to be eligible for a congregational vote that was scheduled for September. The outcome seemed to be a foregone conclusion.

“Our Redeemer Oromo Evangelical Church spent over two years in conversation, prayer, Bible study, and discernment about how they might retain their ELCA identity, respect the different views of their members, and remain in relationship with local Oromo churches from other denominations who disagreed with them on this issue.”

At the request of the congregation, I was present as an observer on the day of the vote. When all ballots were counted, a majority of OROEC members had voted to leave – however, the total was three votes shy of the two-thirds majority required by the constitution. In other words, the vote to leave the ELCA failed by three votes.

Here is how that day was recounted in the most recent OROEC newsletter:

What we witnessed on Sunday 22 September 2019 clearly affirmed that God is with our church, His church, and this church. We say this convinced not because Exit-ELCA Group, in spite of working on it relentlessly yet did not get the required 2/3 majority. The result was stunning for both groups. The exit-Group was definitely 100% sure that it would get what it was working for and was very relaxed and ready to celebrate the outcome. The OROECM/ELCA members did not expect the surprising result either but left the whole thing to God. In short the result was not what we all expected but rather God’s verdict for His church, we call it Devine (sic) intervention. As we watched everyone’s face, when the result was announced everyone was stunned and shocked and what had happened has not sunk in yet, for both groups in disbelief though we need to come back to our senses and accept that God’s way is different from our ways and our calculation. He was and is simply watching us from above and in control.

As you can see, one of the inspiring characteristics of OROEC is their confident, faithful reliance on the will of God to lead them. Bishop Ann and I met last week with OROEC Pastor Wondimu Sonessa and two Church Council officers. They wanted to express their gratitude for God’s guidance and for our assistance through their struggles. They were excited to tell us about the spiritual renewal that is taking place in their church, and to share their strategic plan for the future. And, they wanted to know how they can find partners for ministry and become more involved in the life of the synod after years of isolation and internal conflict.

The faithful members of OROEC are experiencing the unexpected gift of being in a place they did not imagine. If you would like to learn more about this remarkable church, please let me know – I would love to put you in touch with them! As it turns out, I have some extra time available these days.

By Emilie Bouvier

Looking back, I can point to the moment I first demonstrated that I’m a community organizer at heart – and a church organizer at that.

I was in first grade. I was a pastor’s kid in a small town church in rural Nebraska. As most pastor’s kids can relate, I spent a lot of time at the church, and was mostly the quiet, contemplative sort. I listened closely and felt a sense of spiritual connectedness even from that young age. So naturally, one Sunday when I watched the congregation gather for communion, I knew I wanted to be a part of it.

When we got home from church that day, I excitedly and seriously asked my dad (aka the pastor) if I could take communion. Now, my poor dad – navigating the tension between pastoring, parenting, and upholding the parish culture as a lowly first-call pastor – kindly explained to me that kids have to wait until 5^th grade to take communion. “But why?” Well, I was told, it’s about being old enough to really understand what it’s all about. “But I DO understand … !” I started to expound my theological understanding. But then came the best kind of response you can offer to an over-achieving first-born – “Well, sweetheart, not everyone does. Yes, you really do have a lot of understanding for someone your age, but it wouldn’t be fair if you got to take communion and your classmates didn’t.”

“So naturally, one Sunday when I watched the congregation gather for communion, I knew I wanted to be a part of it.”

Now, this satisfied me for all of about 10 minutes. But, of course, young theologian and organizer-at-heart that I was, I suddenly knew what I had to do. The next day, when my dad came home from work he found me sitting at the kitchen table with construction paper, markers, and glue sticks. I was busily preparing little pamphlets explaining all about communion, and invites for all friends at church to come to a communion class that I was going to host.

To me, it was simple. There was a problem – not everyone understands communion – and I was simply going to solve that by leading a workshop and getting all my classmates involved so we could then all take communion together.

You take a big picture problem, break it into a solvable issue, then go get all your people together to do something important so that things are more fair. That’s organizing 101. Bonus points if there’s a theology workshop is involved.

AS I STEP INTO my new role this week as the synod’s Director of Organizing, I’m thinking back on my own path to this vocation, and the work that lies ahead. I first started my work at the synod as a contract congregational organizer, spending 10 hours a week doing 1-1s and meetings with congregations about environmental justice. Now, we have a team of four, with a whole pile of markers, flip chart paper, and protest signs piled in the corner of our shared office. Go find your peers, find your construction paper, and make things happen.

We have some serious problems in our midst. Our fragile and finite planet is faltering under the weight of our collective decisions, with devastating effects. Racism infects all the systems and structures of which we’re a part. Payday lenders continue to prey on the financially vulnerable, draining resources from local communities.

“To me, it was simple. There was a problem – not everyone understands communion – and I was simply going to solve that by leading a workshop and getting all my classmates involved.”

Yet, in the past number of weeks, more than 100 eco-minded folks from 35 congregations around the synod showed up learn and take action at an event geared toward climate and water stewardship; six leaders of colors dug in deep at organizing training and are leading on the synod’s SOAR team (Strategic Organizing Against Racism) to strategize local action on structural racism; two rostered ministers met with Rep. Tom Emmer’s congressional aide, connecting local stories about predatory lending to the conversation at the national level. You take a big picture problem, break it down, and find your people.  

I think back on all the workshops on issues and organizing tools, from past Bishop’s Theological Conferences to this year’s series on “The Challenge of Leadership: Ministering in an Election Year,” and I think of how our capacity for understanding has grown over the past years, as we seek to be courageous, strategic, organized in our current context. Practice organizing 101. Bonus points if there’s a theology workshop involved.

Now, I’ll confess that I didn’t end up getting to take communion during first grade. As it turns out, my pastor-dad had already pushed the congregation to move first communion up from confirmation to 5^th grade, which was met with much push-back, and knew he didn’t have the political capital to push it any further. He says it was an early lesson for him on pastoral authority verses congregational piety. If it were me now, I’d go back to the (Crayola) drawing board and look for a more winnable issue to empower youth leadership in the church.

Organizing is definitely not easy work, but it’s a joy to be called into it. And I couldn’t ask for a better faith community or a better team of colleagues with whom to share this calling. Now, let’s grab the markers and get to it!

By Brenda Blackhawk

I just returned from Bogotá, Colombia, where I attended the first Inter-American Lutheran Encounter: AYNI. The word “Ayni” comes from the Indigenous communities of Bolivia and its meaning is multi-layered; I’m not sure there is an exact translation into English.

Ayni is a reciprocal understanding of the world and a specific way of living. Ayni means that you have reciprocal relationship with other people and the world around you. It means that when your neighbor needs help with the harvest, you help with no questions asked. When you are building a new home, your community comes to help you without hesitation. When someone is born or dies in a family, everyone shares or cooks or lends a hand. It is both a spiritual practice and a way of being.

And Ayni extends to the land and water and animals as well. You don’t take more than you need and you honor what has been given. And you intentionally give back as needed.

THE CONCEPT OF Ayni is an Indigenous concept that exits around the world. At this Inter-American Lutheran Encounter, there were indigenous people from North, Central, and South America who were quickly able to say, “We have a practice of Ayni, called by a different name.”

I heard young Indigenous Lutheran women from Costa Rica talk about their Indigenous traditions and spirituality and heard my own story echoed in theirs. And as the older, more assimilated folks asked questions about how they reconcile their Indigenous spirituality with Jesus and the Bible, I watched those women calmly assert that there is no single way to be in relationship with God.

“We cannot simply talk; we must listen.”

And I thought about Ayni and how God must have taught this to Indigenous communities around the world long before the birth of Jesus.

Jesus was born in a manger in a little town in the Middle East. He lived and died in a world of kings and emperors; clashes of cultures and values fraught with inequality, greed, and division. He was born in a specific time, in a specific place, in a world that needed him. And Jesus preached love. He preached Ayni. And then he died for the whole world.

IF YOUR INDIGENOUS SPIRITUALITY leads you to live a life that reflects Ayni, you have a relationship with God and community and the Earth. And you are also living a Christ-like life. (There are echoes of this perspective in Martin Luther’s oft-quoted “God does not need your good works, but your neighbor does.”)

The European colonization of the Indigenous world was sanctioned by the Church with the adoption of the Doctrine of Discovery. The genocide and atrocities of the past and present in the name of empire was authorized and endorsed by the Church. While the ELCA finally repudiated this document in 2016, the Catholic Church has still not done so.

“The genocide and atrocities of the past and present in the name of empire was authorized and endorsed by the Church.”

The stories of Jesus are valuable, but so are the old stories of other lands and peoples. Relationship is reciprocal. It is both give and take. We cannot simply talk; we must listen. And we must try to live a Christ-like life – a life of Ayni.

Imagine the world we’d live in today if we had not lost Ayni along the way.

By Pastor Craig Pederson

A week has passed since the tragic helicopter crash that claimed the life of Kobe Bryant, along with his 13-year-old daughter Gianna and seven others who were on their way to a youth basketball game. As the tributes and memorials continue to accumulate in the media and online, it’s hard to put into perspective the global impact of Kobe’s high-profile life and premature death.

For me, Kobe’s legacy is complicated. As a basketball player, he was one of the greatest of all time. Period. Few players have achieved the level of personal and team accomplishments that Kobe did during his 20-year career. I’m filled with both amazement and grudging respect for his tenacity and success on the court. I say “grudging” respect because, too often, it was Kobe and the Los Angeles Lakers who ended the playoff dreams of my favorite team, the Minnesota Timberwolves, back in the 2000s.

“I relate to Kobe having a 13-year-old daughter who loved basketball. So do I.”

And his “Mamba Mentality” – a fearless, disciplined, don’t-back-down approach to the game – inspired a generation of basketball players the way Michael Jordan inspired my generation.

AS A FAMILY MAN and community leader, Kobe was also impressive. He was highly engaged in the lives of his four daughters and his wife Vanessa, and he became an outspoken supporter of opportunities for women in sports. And in his “second act” – life after retirement from the NBA – Kobe was expanding into an eclectic list of business and entertainment pursuits with the same “Mamba” intensity he showed on the court.

On the other hand, in 2003 Kobe was charged with criminal sexual assault against a hotel worker in Colorado. The case was ultimately dropped when the victim declined to testify, and a civil suit was later settled out of court. But his reputation was severely tarnished, and the incident still feels unsettling all these years later when viewed through the lens of the #MeToo Movement.

WHETHER YOU’RE A rabid basketball fan or hadn’t heard of Kobe until a week ago, I think there are aspects of Kobe’s story that almost anyone can relate to – and might also find complicated. Kobe’s relentless work ethic and uncompromising drive to win clearly produced results, but at times they also alienated others and clouded his judgment. Kobe’s celebrity made him the focal point of any room he entered – even in the star-studded Los Angeles area – yet he was also known to support and befriend people who were well out of the limelight.

Kobe had developed an intellectual curiosity to learn from the best in other fields. He was known to contact leaders in other industries out of the blue to ask for a meeting so that he could learn what made them successful. While this was an admirable trait that broadened his base of knowledge, some worried that he was too unfocused or was spreading himself too thin.

Kobe’s commitment to increasing opportunities in women’s athletics provided an incredible boost for raising awareness and resources.  But there was also skepticism that this was primarily his attempt to redeem himself in the eyes of the public and his own family for his transgressions earlier in his life.

I relate to Kobe having a 13-year-old daughter who loved basketball. So do I. On that fateful morning of the crash, it was reported that they were running late so they decided to take the helicopter to get to her game rather than try to navigate the L.A. traffic. How many times have I rushed or been less cautious than I should have to get to our daughter’s game on time? Too many to count.

“Kobe’s relentless work ethic and uncompromising drive to win clearly produced results, but at times they also alienated others and clouded his judgment.”

A lesser known aspect of Kobe’s life was that he was a practicing Catholic. It was reported that he leaned heavily on the counsel of a priest to deal with his sexual assault charges back in 2003. It was also reported that he had attended a 7 a.m. mass on the Sunday morning of the terrible crash that took his and his daughter’s life.

We don’t know what message he heard that morning, but I hope and trust that Kobe and his family heard the promises of Jesus Christ many times before: We are fully saint and sinner, and we are beloved children of God, regardless of our accomplishments or flaws; that Christ’s redemption and new life shine light into our darkness; and that neither heights nor depths nor anything else can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ.

Legacies can be complicated, but God’s love need not be. God bless the memory of Kobe, Gianna, and the seven others whose lives ended last Sunday. May their eternal light shine.

By Pastor Deb Stehlin

On Sunday, the people of Grace Lutheran Church in Apple Valley voted to call me as their senior pastor. They did this even though I warned them that choosing me means they’re getting an evangelist. As I begin the spiritual work of letting go of my current platform for evangelism, it occurs to me that the practice of inviting people to experience something of Jesus is deeply connected to letting go.

Presiding Bishop Michael Curry of the Episcopal Church puts it this way: “Evangelism … is about sharing the journey into a deeper relationship with God and each other, and not about us controlling the end result. It’s not increasing our market share, and it’s not just propping up the institution. If we believe the relationship with a living God does matter, and that loving relationship with each other matters, then evangelism and anything that helps us to come closer as human children of God matters.”

“Evangelism … is about sharing the journey into a deeper relationship with God and each other, and not about us controlling the end result.”

Here’s a true story, but I changed the names: Dee invited Joan to her congregation four times over two years. Each time she made an invitation, Dee did so without (much) desire to control Joan’s response. One day, it was the right time for Joan to say yes. And that “yes” saved her life. Joan told me that during a time when she battled depression and suicide ideation, it was relationships in the community and re-kindled connection with God that gave her what she needed in order to keep on living.

MY SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR introduced me to a prayer that’s helping me to develop the practice of letting go. (He’s awesome; private message me if you want to connect with him.)

Welcoming Prayer

Welcome, welcome, welcome.
I welcome everything that comes to me today
because I know it’s for my healing.
I welcome all thoughts, feelings, emotions, persons,
situations, and conditions.
I let go of my desire for power and control.
I let go of my desire for affection, esteem,
approval, and pleasure.
I let go of my desire for survival and security.
I let go of my desire to change any situation,
condition, person, or myself.
I open to the love and presence of God and
God’s action within. Amen.

Mary Mrozowski of Brooklyn, New York – one of the first leaders of centering prayer – developed the method; and Father Thomas Keating developed it further. I’ve been praying this prayer upon waking each morning – and need it throughout the day, too!

By Pastor John Hulden

Pictures tell stories. Take a look at this photograph (on the right) from May 1919.

These are St. Olaf College students, canoeing down the Cannon River to Red Wing, Minnesota, to attend … (take a deep breath and say out loud): “The First National Convention of the Young People’s Luther League and the Choral Union of the Norwegian Lutheran Church of America.”

In 1917, three Norwegian Lutheran church bodies merged to form The Norwegian Lutheran Church of America. Within a few years, a wonderful idea was hatched: A Youth Gathering! In Red Wing! With a really big choir!

Thanks to the on-top-of-it archivists at ELCA Churchwide and Luther Seminary, I can quote you some of the promotional material from this auspicious event:

If you have not already done so, take your calendars and mark now a Big Red Ring around the dates May 16, 17, and 18 for your attendance upon the forthcoming Convention of Young People. … By all means, do not miss this great Convention and an enthusiasm that cannot help but create a resolve to live better and to labor more than in the past. The value of Convention life to all who attend them is educational and inspirational. … Until you attend a convention of Young People’s Luther League you never know what numbers and talent there is in the Lutheran Church. … Those fortunate to attend will not be disappointed.

And, one more quote you need to read:

Come and enjoy three happy wholesome days with the people of Red Wing. Clear everything out of the way and let us meet you there. You will return refreshed in mind and in spirit, having attended a Convention which you will never forget — a better Luther Leaguer and Christian for having gone.  –Ida M. Vigen, Lutheran Church Herald, Vol. III, No. 14, pp. 1-2

A few photos from this amazing event in Red Wing:

Have you heard that Minneapolis is hosting ELCA Youth Gathering June 29-July 3, 2021?

“Thirty-five thousand young Lutherans showing up at our convention center, football stadium, congregations and non-profit organizations.”

Well, in 102 years the promo materials have not changed much. You should bring your teenagers. Encourage your people to volunteer. Thirty-five thousand young Lutherans showing up at our convention center, football stadium, congregations and non-profit organizations. Check out https://elca.org/YouthGathering, and this video here.

By all means, do not miss this great Convention and an enthusiasm that cannot help but create a resolve to live better and to labor more than in the past. … You will return refreshed in mind and in spirit, having attended a Convention which you will never forget — a better Luther Leaguer and Christian for having gone.

Well said, Ida M. Vigen.

The Lutheran Church Herald from March 25, 1919; photos provided by ELCA Region 3 Archives and taken by St. Olaf student Andrew Burgess, later a professor at Luther Northwetern Seminary

By Emilie Bouvier

These days as I settle back into life in Minneapolis, I’ve been sharing a roof not only with two very close friends, but also their two amazing toddlers. Antalya, who is 4, and her little sister Aurelia are the dearest kiddos in my life and an absolute hoot to call housemates.

Yes, sometimes there’s screaming involved over the impending doom of bedtime. Yes, I’m learning unique skills like how to not step in play dough crumbs on the floor (or more accurately, how to get said play dough crumbs out of socks). Yet, it is in and through the controlled chaos that the most magical moments occur.

One of my favorite moments during the first few weeks of living together was when Antalya offered a prayer before a particularly intentional and delicious family meal. She began, “Dear God, thank you for today, thank you for …” and went on to list all the things she was feeling grateful for in our shared life together.

“Since when did I start believing there was a wrong way to offer gratitude?”

My heart swelled – and not only because she was thankful for my presence in their beautiful little family, but also because these were the same words and cadences of my own prayers as a small child. I can’t help but see myself in her. I too at that age began my prayers the same lilting sing-song list of completely free-flowing and un-self-conscious gratitudes.

The parallels continue: She understands prayer, loves her church friends, and even sang a solo of “Amazing Grace” at her church, something that was a big deal for me too at age 3, when I stood up in front of my home church and sang “Jesus Loves Me.”

I SEE THE WAYS THAT this precious one’s parents and faith community form and shape her in the faith. It would be easy enough for me to go on from here to talk about the value of early Christian education or how in my role as a non-familial “auntie” can support and guide this young person’s faith. But that’s not actually what’s most striking to me. Rather, quite the opposite, I realize how much Antalya’s faith is re-shaping for me.

Emilie at age 3, with her parents at their church in Austin, Texas.

A few evenings later when the girls were at their grandparents’ house for the night and we all sat down for a rare “grown-up” meal, we skipped the prayer all together. I suddenly realized that, although it’s at her parents’ prodding, it is ultimately Antalya who makes sure we pray. Her boisterous personality and complete willingness to pray out loud for all of us makes all the difference.

“I too at that age began my prayers the same lilting sing-song list of completely free-flowing and un-self-conscious gratitudes.”

I cringe remembering my complete lack of desire to contribute to my own family’s spoken dinner table prayer at our Christmas dinner, letting the fatigue of the meal prep and sudden self-consciousness limit my ability to voice free-flowing thanks to God. Since when did I start believing there was a wrong way to offer gratitude? Since when did prayer feel more like pressure, or chore, or self-consciousness than an opportunity for relationship and wonder?

Cutting through all the mental clutter, self-doubt, and distraction in my own spiritual life is Antalya’s feisty spirit for prayer that has brought me back to find center. Just by simply being herself she is helping me recover threads of that early sense of spirit-filled and unabashed joy in prayer. And oh, what wonder to again see how close the presence of God is in our lives and to risk, without second-guessing, naming that out loud.