Blog

By Pastor Kelly Chatman

Wishing you God’s richest blessing as we enter this Advent season and new church year. In addition to serving part time on synod staff, I am blessed to serve a wonderfully diverse congregation. Redeemer is a 110-year-old Lutheran congregation and in our Sunday worship we usually number around 100 people.

Among the worshipers are people of different ages, social, economic, racial, and economic backgrounds. I like to think that our diversity looks somewhat like the diversity of our city. There are a lot of things I would love to share with you about Redeemer but what I really want to share with you is the adult education series we just completed this week.

One of our congregation’s leaders proposed that the church council listen to a 12-hour podcast called Seeing White. She assembled a leadership team, offered facilitator training, applied for a Thrivent Action Team grant, and scheduled the ten-part Sunday adult education series.

NOW, I ADMIT THAT I was skeptical. I have served at Redeemer for 18 years and, during that time, I have made multiple attempts to get more than five or six people to participate in Sunday morning adult education and failed. Though I fully supported the series in concept, in my head I was thinking, “Right” people are not going to show up.”

But the team was not deterred. Those who were too busy to listen to the podcast during the week were invited to come early on Sunday morning to listen to that hour-long podcast session. Then at 9:00 a.m., people who had listened in advance would join the early-birds to discuss the week’s session. They would begin each session with a litany, followed by shared ground rules and facilitated time in large and small group discussion.

“The 25 people who gathered each week for adult education participated in a ten-week series addressing one of the most critical issues affecting our nation and church today. Race is reflected in our politics, economics, education system, and religion.”

Here is the amazing thing: People showed up. Each week a quarter of our worshiping community showed up to participate in this rich and important adult education opportunity. Wait, there’s more.

Those 25 people who gathered each week for adult education participated in a ten-week series addressing one of the most critical issues affecting our nation and church today. The issue of race is baked deep into the American experience. Race is reflected in our politics, economics, education system, and religion. Race influences where we shop, live, and worship. “We are swimming in the issue of race,” I have heard it described.

John Biewen, Scene on Radio host and producer, took a deep dive, accompanied with an array of leading scholars and regular guest Dr. Chenjerai Kumanyika. Loretta Williams served as series editor for this documentary series, released between February and August 2017. Seeing White was produced by Duke University and public radio.

I cannot endorse the Seeing White Podcast enough. The series is extremely well done, and it comes with a study guide. All you need is a leader on your church council who dares to think outside the box, a church council willing to say “yes,” a few folks to serve as facilitators, and a Thrivent Action Team to cover the cost of refreshment. Yes, you need a group of people bold and caring enough to “see white.”

By Pastor John Hulden

It’s Cyber Monday! I’m writing a blog instead of Christmas shopping online. You are welcome. We are also approaching the First Sunday in Advent.

Sheesh, it’s either really hard or an amazing opportunity for us church-y folk during this time of Advent-waiting and Christmas-shopping. Although being counter-cultural is not easy, it sure isn’t difficult to get on a soapbox or hop on our high horse or climb into a pulpit and rip into all the craziness of the holiday-shopping craze. I know I don’t have all the answers on how to really put Christ back into Christmas. (And I’m guessing I wouldn’t see eye-to-eye with the folks who sell those bumper stickers either. But I’m just guessing.)

“Did you know TVs are really cheap on and around Black Friday?”

Here’s my confession: Did you know TVs are really cheap on and around Black Friday? I got a Black Friday TV for my birthday last Friday. (Yes, Black Friday landed on my birthday this year.) I’m feeling a little guilty, but my family reminds me — it was a gift! Plus, it is supposed to have a really clear picture, and the outside of the box says it is a “smart” TV. That’s good, isn’t it?

SOME PREACHER SOMEWHERE, probably many years ago, tried to make a comparison between Santa Claus and Jesus. It didn’t work for me. I suppose it was a noble attempt to draw a clear line between crass-commercialization and the platitudes of the beatitudes. (Shoot, I just looked up the definition of “platitudes” — not the right word for the beautiful and powerful beatitudes — but it rhymed so well.)

Here’s my attempt at a better comparison during these paradoxical weeks leading up to the Festival of the Incarnation.

                                                                                          Jolly Ol’ Saint Nick                 vs.                     John the Baptizer                                         

• They both live far away from everyone       North Pole                                                                in the remote wilderness
• They both have a unique outfit                       red suit, big black belt                                           camelhair coat, leather belt
• Crowds gather                                                    at parties, the mall, and parades                         at the river way out of town
• Their message                                                     asks who’s naughty or nice                                   tells everyone they’re straight-out naughty
• Their unique diet                                                cookie and milk, then up the chimney               grasshoppers dipped in honey
• They point to                                                                ???                                                                     Jesus

Blessings to you as you navigate Advent and the inescapable Pre-Christmas Hoopla. I’ll do my best to muddle through, but I do know I plan on finding a midweek evening Advent vespers service.

Happy Blessed Advent.

By Bob Hulteen

“In the beginning, God created … “ What a profound context we reside in – God’s creation. And we are all “the created,” siblings directly with all people, but related as well to all living things. We are all of the stuff that God brought into existence, from igneous rock to sperm whale.

I remember first hearing the phrase Mitakuye oyasin – “for all my relations” – from hometown Dakota friends while I was still in college. I can no longer listen to the creation stories in Christian sacred scriptures without this image of connectedness and ultimate relationship.

Too often we forget that. Sometimes we are even encouraged to forget. Seasons of polarization and divisiveness, as we experienced in the recent period of elections, can create forgetfulness of ultimate truths (perhaps because it is to the advantage of some individuals for most of us to see differences rather than unifying factors).

Religious people can be manipulated in times such as this. We can identify more deeply with people from our own group affiliation rather than with the promise from Genesis that we are all related. Ecumenism itself then becomes countercultural by encouraging us to draw the circle wider than our reptilian tendencies normally encourage.

EARLY IN NOVEMBER, members of United Methodist (UMC), Episcopal (ECMN), African Methodist Episcopal (AME), and Lutheran churches gathered together in Faribault to learn skills about community organizing in order to be better stewards of our shared creation. We sang, we shared, we role-played, we laughed, some of us danced. (Don’t ask, please.) And, we realized we could develop a shared language around care for the water so abundant (and yet fragile) in our own state.

Why do we care about the quality of our water? Well, it is elemental; we all need it to survive. But, as faith communities, we also use it for our initiation rituals – baptism. Scripture is full of essential stories of faith with connections to water – from the crossing out of enslavement in Egypt to the baptism of the Ethiopian eunuch seeking to join the Jesus movement.

“Our AME siblings reminded the group about water justice, especially in the current reality facing residents of Flint and Detroit, Michigan.”

Our AME siblings reminded the group about water justice, especially in the current reality facing residents of Flint and Detroit, Michigan. Through no fault of their own, these citizens are forced to live out of bottled water, paying private companies for water taken directly from water sources that formerly provided them with free (via public) water.

At this November training, participants agreed to be part of a “Gather at the River” event that includes education and worship on December 13. Bishops and bishop-equivalents of the Minneapolis Area Synod, the AME, the UMC, and the ECMN will offer leadership as we learn about water and praise our Creator for the gift of water, as well as cry for water justice for those who are often the first to experience when our systems break.

Please save the date for the early evening of December 13 to join us; more information will follow in an upcoming synod enews. Or, contact Grace Corbin, g.corbin@mpls-synod.org, to express your interest. Celebrate our shared water systems and, even more deeply, our connected to all of creation. Do it for “all of our relations.”

By Pastor Craig Pederson

November 6 is Election Tuesday, bringing to fruition months (and in some cases, years) of hard work by candidates and their campaigns at the federal, state, and local levels. I acknowledge and appreciate this incredibly hard work that often goes unrecognized. As a democracy, we are strengthened when good people pursue public service as part of their gifts and calling.

Election Tuesday also brings to an end (mercifully, many will say!) the campaign ads that have increasingly inundated us on television, radio, social media, and print (where it still exists). We have come to expect this barrage of ads each election cycle, but this year’s assortment seems to have stepped it up a notch or two in terms of the negative tone and attack orientation of their content. This amplification of tone and stridency is likely the result of the increased polarization of political, ideological, and religious perspectives in our nation.

BUT THE UNITED STATES is not alone in grappling with these ramped up polarities.  In the past week I read two articles highlighted the contrasting viewpoints that exist in Brazil following two consequential elections there. One is from the Lutheran World Federation about the first woman, Rev. Silvia Beatrice Genz, elected as president of the Lutheran Church in Brazil. The other is from the Associated Press about the controversial new president of Brazil, Jair Bolsonaro, who has a long history of offensive comments towards women, the LGBTQ community, indigenous and Black people, and foreigners.

Whether or not you choose to read these articles, the common thread is this: The Church of Jesus Christ is entering a new chapter in its calling to speak truth to power and to provide tools for people to engage with our differences – in our nation, and around the world.

“The Church of Jesus Christ is entering a new chapter in its calling to speak truth to power and to provide tools for people to engage with our differences.”

In his insightful new book A House United, theologian Allen Hilton describes how the Church’s unique scriptural and practical experiences with “difference” can provide a lens for us to navigate the current roiling cultural waters. He recounts the significance of the church’s presence at key cultural and political moments in our nation’s history. He then reminds us how the Bible, rather than providing an obstacle-free roadmap to religious and civic life, shows that the movement of God’s people comes out of differences and resolution of conflict.

Ultimately, Hilton argues that “uniformity” is not the sign of faithfulness within the body of Christ, but “unity” of purpose in sharing the love of Christ is the standard by which we can measure our witness.

IN A SEASON OF heightened divisions like the present one, we might ask, “Can I really make a difference?” As an individual Christian, and as Lutheran congregations, the answer is “yes!”

But how?  Here are my humble suggestions:

1. Pray!
2. Vote!
3. Visit! Visit with another Christian who you know holds a different political perspective than you. Visit another congregation that leans in a different theological direction than yours, and perhaps encourage your own congregation to develop a relationship with that one. As Hilton writes, “courageous conversations” such as these can lead to small but mighty progress and understanding within the body of Christ. We can even become a witness and example to the divisive culture in which we find ourselves.

“The Church’s unique scriptural and practical experiences with “difference” can provide a lens for us to navigate the current roiling cultural waters.”

Let us not throw our hands up in despair, but rather let us put our hands out to invite others who are different from us into relationship. Let us honor God by honoring the diversity of people and perspectives God created.

Lord, have mercy on us as we seek to become the healing and reconciling presence you call us to be!

By Rev. Deb Stehlin

One of my colleagues is the Rev. Patricia Davenport. We got to know one another because she has served with me on the “new starts team” for the ELCA. She was recently installed as bishop in Philadelphia. I got to watch the worship service via live stream. Oh, what a celebration it was! Because she is the first African-American woman to be elected bishop in our denomination, there was good reason to dance and clap and let the praises rise.

It took 30 years for this to happen.

The preacher, the Rev. Dr. Wyvetta Bullock, spoke that hard truth, even as she thanked God for this moment. She also spoke the truth about our church, and our need to (in my words) be released from our bondage to whiteness. Then, she looked directly at Rev. Davenport and declared, “Bishop, this is not your work.”

In those words, I heard a call.

It’s my work.

“The Rev. Dr. Bullock said that leadership is ‘what you bring to any situation that needs what you have.’”

In her sermon, the Rev. Dr. Bullock said that leadership is “what you bring to any situation that needs what you have.” This situation of our church not reflecting the beautiful racial and ethnic diversity of our surroundings needs me to use my leadership to create right relationships. Another of my colleagues calls this “love work.” Not the sentimental kind of love, but the kind of love that is an action that seeks wellbeing.

DESCRIBING THIS AS LOVE WORK helps me to imagine each of our congregation leaders asking, “What kind of love work needs to happen here? What steps can our church take to create right relationships?”

I am significantly grateful for all the others in this synod who also feel called to this love work. Fifty congregations have racial justice liaisons who help their congregations learn new ways of being in our multi-racial, multicultural world. Our Unite Table helps people grow in their cultural competency and helps to hold the vision. Several leaders attended training in Chicago and came back with new energy. We hope to add a racial justice organizer to our staff very soon. A majority of our new mission starts are reaching new people in new ways and in new places. There are a growing number of people of color attending seminary. And a growing group of people of color are gathering regularly to build relationships and affect change.

This love work is good work.

By Emilie Bouvier

An unlikely group of people gathered at a Catholic retreat center last month in rural Michigan. We were a combination of faith leaders from institutions around the Midwest and frontline activists from Flint and Detroit working amidst the ongoing water crises there.

Amidst the aromas of cafeteria-style comfort food, I sat down for lunch the first day next to a woman my age from Flint as she was sipping tea. She was fairly quiet yet playfully snarky, and we struck up a conversation about the unique mug that she picked up at a thrift store on her way over. (For those of you who know me, it won’t come as a surprise to you that we connected over such things.) She described the teas she brought and their healing qualities, and I assumed from her soft and raspy voice that she brought the tea because she was getting over a cold.

That evening as we gathered in a circle outside at dusk, she had difficultly speaking loudly enough for the group to hear her. I was wrong about the cold, as she apologized for her voice she added very matter-of-factly “it’s because of the water.” The tea I had noticed was just one of many healing practices she had incorporated into her daily routine to deal with the chronic health issues she was experiencing on account of the water contamination. Her routine also includes waiting in line every week, sometimes for hours, for bottled water.

“The young woman described the teas she brought and their healing qualities, and I assumed from her soft and raspy voice that she brought the tea because she was getting over a cold.”

As the sun set we made our way around the circle, sharing snippets of our stories and of the reasons that brought us together. When we reached Bishop Bernadel Jefferson, an African-American Non-Denominational faith leader, her voice started with the same matter-of-fact-ness. But then, as she began talking about the effects of the poisoned water on her grandson, the volume and tenor of her voice revealed an edge of emotion and continued to rise. “He loved school. He was an exemplary student, selected to go on a national trip to visit D.C. with other students from around the country, … representing our city.”

She paused, letting the irony sink in of her grandson’s pride to represent the city that ultimately poisoned him. “He was an A student! And now he gets Ds! We know it was because of the water!” She was almost shouting at this point, filled with a mix of anger at government officials who told her the water was fine, resentment of a system that clearly didn’t count her family’s well-being to be as valuable as economic gains, and despair over seeing her beloved grandbaby now unable to live his full potential. Her voice broke off and the silence returned.

THE SOCIAL AND POLITICAL context surrounding these stories are equally wrenching. The poisoned water was the direct result of decisions made by unelected government officials. Because emergency managers are appointed, they effectively take away the democratic rights of residents who suffer the consequences of decisions made by them. Of Michigan’s state population, 15% are people of color. Of Michigan’s state population currently under the direction of an emergency manager, 70% are people of color. The water crisis is the result of structural systems that are rooted in and perpetuate racial injustice, and dismantle poor communities from which the state has clearly already disinvested.

When race and class cry out for treason, when sirens call for war; they overshout the voice of reason and scream till we ignore all we held dear before. These words come back to mind for me as I revisit the stories and swell of pain I experienced in that circle. They are lyrics of an Advent hymn in Evangelical Lutheran Worship (#252). I just discovered it this week and its poignant verses are still turning over in my head.

“The water crisis is the result of structural systems that are rooted in and perpetuate racial injustice, and dismantle poor communities from which the state has clearly already disinvested.”

When we hear these voices crying out, what is it that we need to let go of that we held too dearly before? Is it the belief that our governments are infallible? That corruption that doesn’t disenfranchise me directly, isn’t my problem? Do we need to let go of the grasp on corporations too necessary that we should turn the other way when we see our water being commodified? Or maybe is it the feeling that since the majority of Lutherans (since our denomination is 98% white) aren’t likely going to have our water contaminated, that we can externalize these crises and separate ourselves from it? Is it that the world seems too heavy to continue to grieve and for us to believe we can actually fix such problems?

Can you hear the voices of our neighbors crying loudly enough to let such things go? Can you let yourself sit with the struggle such that growth can flower from our grieving, … that we can catch our breath and turn transfixed by faith?

I’ll leave you with that challenge. And perhaps the challenge to sing hymn 252 sometime during Advent.

By Pastor Deb Stehlin

I had one of the most remarkable Sundays of my ministry not long ago. In the morning, I practiced the ministry of showing up, and joined the people of Edina Community Lutheran Church for their first Sunday after Pastor Stephanie died. I was a witness to these things: Seeing people enter the building and fall into each others’ arms, hearing broken-hearted people sing sustaining songs, smelling the perfumed oil as I traced crosses on mourners’ foreheads, and holding in my hand bread that carries the presence of Christ and strength for the week.

“The grief of an entire faith community is immense and is heavy. Is there anything strong enough to hold it?”

The community named the truth of their profound sadness, proclaimed the good news of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and insisted that even as their hearts were breaking, they were being broken open for the sake of joining God’s mission in the world.

The grief of an entire faith community is immense and is heavy. Is there anything strong enough to hold it? Yes! A community that lives trusting the work of God in Jesus is indeed strong enough to hold all this.

AFTERWARD, I GOT IN MY car and drove to Fridley, where our new Hmong ministry is taking root. Pastor Nhiabee Vang invited me to show up to witness nine people getting baptized. This was the second such Sunday in which baptismal candles were stacked up to be ready for a large group of people who have heard the good news about God’s love for us in Jesus and want to be part of Christ’s body, the church.

There was such joy! Being claimed by this amazing, grace-filled God and being received by a vibrant Christian community as siblings, made the new Christians (and more experienced ones) feel buoyant and light. Where else can you go to be set free like that? What else can hold this immense, expansive promise of God, except for Christian community?

“Being claimed by this amazing, grace-filled God and being received by a vibrant Christian community as siblings, made the new Christians feel buoyant and light.”

My call was renewed that day. What a valuable, beautiful, and sometimes fragile thing is a faith community! What else has the strength to hold the worst that life brings, and can also carry the best that God has to give us? I want my life to be about the flourishing of faith communities, … because nothing else can hold what life and death bring.

By Bob Hulteen

Two of my colleagues jokingly challenged me to work a clip from The West Wing into my next staff devotions. I would say that they know me so well but, in all honesty, you probably only have to know me for about 10 minutes to know of my addiction to this TV series.

In fact, the only thing on my bucket list (thus far) is taking a week’s vacation before the next presidential election to live Tweet a season of The West Wing each day. (I think I could get about four hours of sleep, a shower, six bathroom breaks, and one meal preparation in daily and still watch all of a year’s episodes.) Who’s with me?

Of course, the headline to this post is one of character C.J. Cregg’s famous lines from the series (season 4, episode 3, to be exact). I’ve been reflecting on that a lot lately, as C.J. was talking about young people having an impact through participation in the process.

“In fact, the only thing on my bucket list is taking a week’s vacation before the next presidential election to live Tweet a season of The West Wing each day.”

I have received an upswing in calls, voice mails, and emails lately about the role of the church in policy discussions. Most callers have expressed appreciation for the church’s commitment to stand with vulnerable people (especially from young people saying they would attend church more often if it was more courageous or saying they wouldn’t be able to stay in church if it wasn’t). A handful of callers have expressed concern over their perception of the church’s involvement in politics.

With “election season” jumping into full-on frontal attack as we turn the calendar page to September, it is valuable to ponder how the church can appropriately participate in “social issues” as they come into clear focus during this heightened time of politics.

OF COURSE, WHAT IS one person’s “politics” is another person’s “faith.” I cannot fathom my faith commitment separate from love of my neighbor in society. Of course, that doesn’t prescribe a particular policy as a “Christian” policy. We have to discern more deeply than that.

Out of fear for crossing a line into the political, many faithful people draw a line at charity. We can give of our time or our resources directly to someone in need – perhaps at a food pantry or a shelter for people experiencing homelessness. We can carry energy bars to hand out to people with cardboard signs at highway exits.

“Out of fear for crossing a line into the political, many faithful people draw a line at charity.”

Personally, I feel the need to engage public policy as well, as part of my Christian commitment. I am not against meeting the immediate need of people who are hungry. But, I’d rather not have them hungry in the first place. I’d rather seek public policy solutions that don’t demand that my charitable obligation be direct. (For me, taxes are a means to build a just society that meets people’s needs, hopefully before those needs are dire.)

This can be a hard message for some, preferring the comfort of charitable frameworks over the messiness of the political. And yet, the words of C.J. Cregg still ring in my ears when I look at people of faith daring to journey into the unknown, into the difficult discernment of acting in the political realm. “Decisions are made by those who show up.”

By Pr. Craig Pederson

One of the joys of ministry is discovering insights into the ways of God through vehicles I never expected. This week, the ways of God have been revealed to me through an actual vehicle: the Rally Car!

Let me explain.

At this time of year, the reference to “rallying” will not be lost on many of you; we are approaching the annual “Rally Sunday” in churches throughout our synod and beyond. Following the summer slowdown, Rally Sunday brings renewed energy and refocused action on the ministry efforts over the months to come.

“Rally Sundays first appeared on the scene about 100 years ago as a way to build momentum for the Sunday school movement.”

Curious to learn about this “Rally Sunday” tradition, I set about doing a bit of historical research. As you might expect, it does not have deep ancient liturgical or theological roots! Rally Sundays first appeared on the scene about 100 years ago as a way to build momentum for the Sunday school movement. In later decades, Rally Sundays came to include all the ministries of the church that needed a boost of revitalization as they entered the fall months.

But in researching the origins of the “rally” in the church, I came across other expressions of the term as well. This led me to a “Back to the Future” moment of another form of rallying I enjoyed in my younger years – rally car races!

I GREW UP WATCHING dramatic rally races televised from obscure locations around the world. And in my extensive Hot Wheels and model car collections were a variety of rally cars, from Baja buggies to Fiats to VWs. These unorthodox vehicles represented ways to explore adventurous and unconventional paths.

“Is it a stretch to glean lessons for Rally Sunday from Rally racing?”

And now as I look through the lens of ministry (in a whimsical yet insightful way) at these remarkable road races, I think we can learn a few things:

• They run in stages: Rally races are not singular start-to-finish events; they tend to have several stages based on time, distance, and road conditions. The approach to each successive stage is built on the learnings from the previous stage.
• They require teamwork: Not only does a rally car have a full crew to help prepare it for the race, but the driver often has a co-driver in the seat next to him/her. The co-driver is fully a part of the success or failure of the race, keeping notes, monitoring conditions, and advising the driver on how to approach the different stages.
• They run on both known and unknown roads: Some rally races run on public roads in highly populated regions; others run on mountain trails, uncharted desert routes, or intercontinental passages. They require knowledge of both familiar and unfamiliar terrain.
• They require partnerships: Rally races that run through an urban core city or a remote ocean village necessitates working with local authorities and event planners to manage traffic flow, ensure public safety, and promote economic opportunities.
• They race where the people are, not vice versa: Rally races don’t rely on people coming to them at a designated speedway; there are no rally “temples.” They go out and race through neighborhoods, country sides, wilderness villages, and sprawling beaches where the locals live and enthusiastically attend the races.
• They have adapted over the years: Rally cars have evolved with advanced technologies, and rally races have grown more sophisticated to adjust to changing demographics, local policy considerations, and increased environmental awareness of the effects of racing.

So, is it a stretch to glean lessons for Rally Sunday from Rally racing? Perhaps! But you could do worse than to approach your new program year with these principles:

• Building and assessing your ministry in stages,
• focusing on teamwork vs. going it alone,
• being attentive to both known and unknown roads,
• valuing partnerships beyond the church,
• bringing the gospel out to where people live, and
• adapting proactively to changing external conditions.

Whatever your Rally Sunday traditions or new adventures might be, I pray that the Holy Spirit blesses them richly!

By Emilie Bouvier

“FWAP.” There’s something so gratifying about feeling the weight and hard slap of clay against the wedging stone in my kitchen. This is the first step in the process of pottery throwing – wedging out air bubbles, getting the clay pliable and consistent. Then over to the wheel. A final “fwap” of the newly formed ball of clay sticks it to the middle of the wheel head. I press my foot to the pedal and the familiar gentle whirring wells up around me as the wheel starts to spin.

Pottery has been a grounding and meditative practice for me; it draws me into a spiritual place through its own patterns, rhythm, and rituals. It’s very physical, yet frees my mind to through the repetition and familiarity of the sounds and movements. The time I spend throwing brings me rest and rejuvenation. It fills me with satisfaction and wonder to find respite and creativity in the same place.

I can’t help but feel relief and gratitude as I return to my pottery wheel in these days following the midterm primary elections. As a person of faith who believes deeply in showing up in the public square, I spent a good amount of personal time and energy engaging the primaries. For me, it stems from a commitment to live my faith values through civic participation and dialogue with my neighbors in that process.

Yet, it’s exhausting – especially the emotional ups and downs of Election Day. It’s quite a progression from the buildup conversations, casting my ballot, watching social media, and then refreshing my computer browser as the results come in (MPR on in the background), celebrating some of the outcomes, grieving others. And this has just been the primaries.

“How do you attend to the personal dimensions of your public ministry – the untangling of knots within yourself, the practices that keep you centered during times of intensity, the times that help you heal and rejuvenate? I’m looking forward to diving into this more during the rest and learning of Bishop’s Theological Conference this year at the end of September.”

Now, I realize I’m kind of a nerd when it comes to watching local elections. (This is not everyone’s experience or priority.) And I also believe that, while politics are an opportunity to participate in a process that protects the “common good,” elections are ultimately about values and relationships that can get us toward more just communities, not about feeling like your cheering for a sporting team. (Did I even say that right? I’m not a sports person.)

At the end of the day, I need to find rest and I need to remember what’s at the center. I think that’s true for a lot of ministry work that we do – especially when it has public dimensions, when the world feels heavy, and when we know how much is at stake.

AS THE WHIRRING OF the pottery wheel rises once again, I look down at the lumpy and lopsided ball of clay spinning unevenly in front of me. Before beginning to shape the bowl, first I must center the clay. Pressing in with both hands, I feel the malleable clay move more fully into the center of the wheel. The bumps smooth out, and, with a final push, I feel the unevenness disappear. Letting go, I watch the mound clay almost appear not to move, even as it turns at a high speed. It is centered. Ready once again for the creative balancing act of being pulled outward and formed into a new shape.

“For me, it stems from a commitment to live my faith values through civic participation and dialogue with my neighbors in that process.”

How do you attend to the personal dimensions of your public ministry – the untangling of knots within yourself, the practices that keep you centered during times of intensity, the times that help you heal and rejuvenate? I’m looking forward to diving into this more during the rest and learning of Bishop’s Theological Conference this year at the end of September. Former Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson will be speaking about this very question — the personal dimensions of ministry in times such as this.

Returning to my desk for a new week of work, I pick up my wheel-thrown mug, now fired and filled with hot coffee, and I’m reminded of the action that created it. Breathing in, I think of the calm rhythm of throwing and a newly centered feeling of balance, ever aware of the challenge it is to maintain that center.