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By Pastor Deb Stehlin

Yesterday, a friend and I went to see the In the Heart of the Beast Puppet Theater production of “Make Believe Neighborhood.” It’s a masterful mash-up of the story of the radical Christian, Mr. Rogers, with vignettes of people who are making the Phillips neighborhood more, well, neighborly. That includes Pastors Luisa and Patrick Cabello Hansel of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church.

Patrick and Luisa puppets (with the Patrick puppet wearing a plaid knit vest just like the real Patrick) made art and planted seeds and, in so doing, created more love in the neighborhood. That’s pretty cool, huh? The production showed what can happen when neighbors say, “I like you just the way you are,” across race, language, and culture in the most diverse neighborhood in Minneapolis.

I think that being a Christian community that’s following the way of Jesus is an act of resistance — especially in a time when powers and principalities want us to be divided and scared.

During the big snow storm a couple of weeks back, Pastor Kelly Chatman was sitting in the coffee and bike shop operated by the congregation’s non-profit.  It was near the end of the day.  The snow continued to come down hard and cars were getting stuck in the snow. Suddenly, he heard the manager of the bike shop yell, “Community!” The employees immediately ran outside, the manager picked up a shovel, and a team of young adults ran across the street. He watched as they came to the rescue of a woman whose car had become stuck in the snow.

AT FIRST LUTHERAN in Columbia Heights, a young father is preparing for his infant’s baptism. Because he feels safe in that community, he told Pastor Bonnie Wilcox, “You know, I don’t think I was ever baptized. Do you think I could get baptized, too?”

At Cross of Peace in Shakopee, a father who is an awesome confirmation leader also experiences church as a place where people “like him just the way he is.” And so, he was able to tell his congregation at the annual meeting that he never was confirmed and wants to say yes to his own baptism — even as he helps prepare teenagers to do the same thing.

I think that being a Christian community that’s following the way of Jesus is an act of resistance — especially in a time when powers and principalities want us to be divided and scared. I know that there are a lot more stories in our synod about the power of community and how that can change neighborhoods — and people. I thank God for all the ways you make your neighborhood more, well, neighborly. It matters so very much.

By Bob Hulteen

My funny bone praises God for the dry (and sometimes not-so-dry) humor provided by The Onion, a news source that has its fingers on the pulse of American culture. Staff writers take dry news stories and bring them to life, much like the Valley of the Dry Bones.

As a comic book enthusiast, the article that caught my attention this week was titled “Man Prefers Comic Books That Don’t Insert Politics Into Stories About Government-Engineered Agents of War.” Now, because I read the letters to the editor pages in comics, I know that recent efforts at inclusiveness have been driving some of my fellow comic book patrons crazy. Ms. Marvel is now a Muslim high school student; the “Totally Awesome Hulk” is now an Asian character, replacing Bruce Banner in order to breathe new life into a tired storyline; and, for a while, Captain America was African American (in a beautifully written story that was also very poignant). Fandom has had a fit.

The Onion article even quotes the fictional Jeremy Land, saying, “I’m tired of simply trying to enjoy escapist stories in which people are tortured and experimented upon at black sites run by authoritarian governments, only to have the creators cram political messages down my throat.” Like all good satire, that quote hurts.

OF COURSE, AS A good church person, I don’t just read comic books. I also keep up on religion news stories, such as the Episcopal Diocese of Washington, D.C., declaring its commitment to the gender neutrality of language about God. In fact, gathered in assembly the voting members of the diocese were resolved that “if revision of the Book of Common Prayer is authorized, to utilize expansive language for God from the rich sources of feminine, masculine, and non-binary imagery for God found in Scripture and tradition and, when possible, to avoid the use of gendered pronouns for God.”  

Anyone not part of the dominant culture is well aware of the political nature of the dominant culture.

The repercussions from people outside the denomination have been fast and furious. In the comment section of “Juicy Ecumenism,” a blog published by the Washington-based think tank the Institute for Religion and Democracy, several people called Episcopalians cultists, and remarked that God has been happy being called “he” all throughout history and is still satisfied. You know how the author knows? Her KJV Bible tells her so.

(I’m hopeful that the ELCA will bring more light than heat when discussing its draft Social Statement on Women and Justice to be discussed and voted on at the 2019 Churchwide Assembly in Milwaukee.)

Of course, anyone not part of the dominant culture is well aware of the political nature of the dominant culture. It isn’t that there aren’t politics in the “norms” of culture: it’s that they are the familiar ones. So, offering a differing political perspective can feel like introducing the idea of politics into “non-political” assumptions for someone who has yet to reflect upon it.

We are all prone to locking in our brains the ideal of what we have grown up with. Not too many spheres within society challenge us to expand our thinking, perhaps even to see through another’s (less log-clouded) eyes. The Christian faith, however, requires that of us.

I pray we can live up to that challenge, … because it’s no laughing matter.

By Rev. Craig Pederson

I have a LinkedIn account, as many people do. I can’t remember when and why I set it up, but there must have been an invitation of some kind, or an article I wanted to read, that required me to set up a user profile.

Now, I’ve given LinkedIn enough information about myself that it really knows me. Like a personal coach or a good friend, LinkedIn sends updates to my email inbox every couple of weeks suggesting new connections I may want to make – connections that may be of mutual benefit to me and to the “connectee”.

Recently I received an update that said, “Do you know Ann Svennungsen? You have 49 connections in common!” Why yes, in fact, I do know her! That same update also suggested I may want to connect with some guy named John Hulden, and someone else named Jeni Huff. … How amazing, I just happen to know them too (both being dear colleagues in the synod office)!

“It is … essential that Christians and Muslims endeavor to establish relationships of trust, integrity and a shared vision of their place in the rich interreligious landscape.”

Social media and targeted applications provide almost limitless platforms for us to develop our professional and personal relationships. The algorithms that drive these platforms are powerful and mysterious in how well they get to “know” us. (For example, why are the shoes I looked up online last night now appearing on the newspaper web page I’m reading today?)

WITHOUT THE USE OF algorithms, but with a genuine desire to foster relationship and understanding, the 2017 Synod Assembly resolved to encourage congregations to explore connections with a specific population in their communities: their Muslim neighbors. The resolution was rooted in the acknowledgement that Muslims face increasing challenges, fears, and even acts of violence resulting from sometimes misinformed public rhetoric.

The resolution lifted up the work of the ELCA Consultative Panel on Christian-Muslim Relations, which stated, “It is … essential that Christians and Muslims endeavor to establish relationships of trust, integrity and a shared vision of their place in the rich interreligious landscape.” One of the mutual benefits of these relationships is that they can help break down negative stereotypes that don’t represent the majority of common believers who are trying to be faithful to their understanding of God’s will in their lives.

“The synod’s resolution was rooted in the acknowledgement that Muslims face increasing challenges, fears, and even acts of violence resulting from sometimes misinformed public rhetoric.”

So what are some of the ways our congregations might connect with Muslims? The synod’s resolution suggests that we:

• sponsor one or more educational sessions on Islam or on interrupting religious bias, or partner with another congregation in doing so,
• reach out to build local relationships with a non-Christian place of worship or another religious institution, particularly any being targeted for hostile words and actions,
• write and endorse a statement condemning hostility in the name of religion and expressing solidarity with members of other faith traditions,
• initiate and engage in inter-religious service projects which include spiritual reflection and discussion, and/or
• engage in advocacy actions, such as writing to school officials requesting training for faculty and staff in understanding Islam and dealing with religious diversity; writing letters to the editor or contacting legislators advocating for protection of religious minorities; advocating for respect and accommodation in individual workplaces for religious diversity.

The resolution also called for a synod task force that could make resources available to congregations to assist in this important work. This task force has begun meeting and will be providing resources in the months to come.

Some connections in our lives come naturally, even effortlessly – like clicking a link in an email. Others take time, intention, and commitment. Jesus made connections with those who were often blamed for demanding too much of others: the sick, the poor, the disabled, the widow, the children, the Gentiles. In the year to come, let us model Christ’s humility and openness by getting know our Muslim neighbors.

A colleague stirred her coffee and mused, “I wonder how the new tax law will impact how my people give to the church next year?” She is curious, because the standard deduction has roughly doubled for all filers. (Important resources are available to explain the impact of this tax change.) It’s expected that fewer people will itemize deductions such as charitable contributions. And without the incentive to save money on taxes, will that dampen peoples’ incentive to be generous with our congregations?

This is a great teachable moment.

What a perfect time to have a conversation with members of your congregation about why they give. Prepare by considering what motivates you to be generous. Approach the topic of generosity with curiosity.

“What a perfect time to have a conversation with members of your congregation about why they give.”

When I reflected on that in terms of my own giving to my congregation, I made a “top 10 list.” And saving money on my taxes fell quite low in my priorities!

1. My relationship with God has changed my relationship with money.
2. Because it all belongs to God anyway, I’m just taking care of it.
3. I want more people to hear the really good news about Jesus.
4. My money has power to do good things in the world.
5. It’s an act of worship.
6. It’s the most important thing I do to be less self-centered.
7. It fills me with joy to be generous.
8. Part of my offering fuels the work of the wider church, such as starting new congregations and supporting justice work and disaster relief.
9. I’m proud to be an ELCA Lutheran and want to support the institution.
10. It reduces my tax bill.

I wonder what your list includes?

STEWARDSHIP EXPERTS ADVISE that if you want to create a healthy money culture in your congregation, talk about money when you’re not asking for it. God cares about all our money, not just the portion we give away. It matters how we earn it; how we spend it; how we save it; and how we share it.

Pastor Greg Meyer at Jacob’s Well in Minneapolis regularly teaches his people how to make a budget and stick to it, and helps people to connect how they use their money with their faith values. That’s good stuff.

Let me know if you have this conversation in your congregation. I’d love to hear what you learn.

By Emilie Bouvier

Okay, so I love waiting, I really do. There’s something about the practice and ritual of waiting that feeds the soul. But I’m also really anxious to dig into the reality that were all waiting for – the incarnation, God born among us. So, I’m going to skip ahead a little and dive into our incarnational promise a week early.

I know, I know. But, I think Jesus came last year too, so we’re good, right?

I’ve been thinking a lot about incarnation, because I’ve been increasingly aware of what a scary yet profound promise it is to see God entering into the messy, complex realities of our incarnated lives. In our current moment, I feel we are hyper-aware of the big picture issues we face – systems and structures that harm, a political environment fueled off racism and unabashed greed, a deteriorating climate, and the list goes on. How on earth does Jesus break in, in all Christ’s transformative power and utter human-ness?

“What does God’s breaking-in, challenging, transforming, healing look like embodied in us?”

Yet, somehow we hold to this promise and, perhaps with a bit of fear and trembling, recognize that we too are a part of this incarnational reality. We don’t remain unchanged or let off the hook. If we’re at all serious about how God works in-and-through the world, we must recognize that part of that happens in-and-through us. It’s going to be beautifully messy and imperfect, and it’s going to challenge and transform us.

LAST WEEK I SAT a couple rows back from two pews full of Bishops at the installation service for Rev. Dr. Curtiss DeYoung, assuming the role of CEO of the Minnesota Council of Churches (MCC). Waves of emotion welled up in me as I saw images of MCC’s work over the years flash across the screen – Blessed Ramadan signs and Iftar meals, a historic press conference of judicatory leaders speaking out boldly against the Muslim ban early this year, congregations hearing new voices through the Black Clergy Speakers Bureau, presence and solidarity with Dar Al-Farooq in the wake of the bombing last summer. This is incarnational ministry.

I find myself circling back to this: What does God’s breaking-in, challenging, transforming, healing look like embodied in us?

For the ecumenical assembly gathered there that evening, there were some pretty clear pictures offered up. Three sermonic charges to CEO Curtiss may just as well have been charges to all of us who minister as a part of this greater church.

• Elona Street Stewart, a native leader and Ruling Elder in the Presbyterian Church, called on us to recognize the stolen land on which we stand, to include and lift up indigenous voices, and to recognize the multiplicity of tribes and stories within the native community.
• Sindy Morales Garcia, program associate at Wilder and a young Latina voice, charged us to ir a la frontera, to go to the borderland, willing to being de-centered and to stand at the margins with recent immigrants.
• Dee McIntosh, millennial African-American pastor of Lighthouse Church, preached a profound word on the waters of Revelation: that we ought to be more like the water in the neighboring villages – water that is hot for healing or cool for drinking – but we cannot be lukewarm.

These are about as profoundly incarnational charges as I’ve heard.

“Theologians have long recognized how stained glass speaks to our incarnational reality. The design is only possible when the divine light meets the physical material of lead and glass.”

Retiring CEO Peg Chemberlin also spoke, as she passes her role on to Curtiss DeYoung – a leader whose leadership mostly looks like shining light on others, getting out of the way, and getting young people of color into leadership. Her charge recognized and reflected this commitment, as she added these words to the mix: “Increasingly the world is splintered into self-interest shards, none of which can carry a commitment to the common good. In such times, your job is to gently build those shards of many colors into the stained glass window of hope for the future.”

This vibrant image resounded with what I know to be true of stained glass – that theologians have long recognized how it speaks to our incarnational reality. The design is only possible when the divine light meets the physical material of lead and glass; that meeting point of holiness and tangible reality is the point of illumination.

May our lives and vocations, in this season especially, seek to minister at this incarnational intersection.

By Bob Hulteen

“Wait. Just wait.”

The luminous blaze bouncing off the shiny red ornaments on a Christmas tree adorned with spray-can snow was too enticing. Homemade bows encircled the boxes adorned in green, red, and yellow, filling the space under the tree. I longed to “free” the treasures that awaited by a slow, methodical disassembling of the wrapping paper to find that surprise awaiting.

Wait. Awaited. Awaiting.

Advent is always more than pre-Christmas.

As a young boy, I remember the December sermons and songs about waiting. I thought I was merely being taught a morality tale about discipline. Don’t open the Christmas presents early. Wait until you’ve been to the Christmas Eve service and come home to a full table. Wait until the dishes were cleared and the table cleaned. Wait until my father read the passage from Luke 2 about Caesar Augustus and poor shepherds and a refugee family and a multitude of angels.

Wait.

BUT, DECEMBER IS ALWAYS more than department store or online sales. Advent is always more than pre-Christmas.

It is waiting. But it’s waiting that is also preparing. As the Baptizer reminds us, it includes “preparing the way of the Lord.”

Are we ready? Are we prepared?

One of my great fortunes is the fact that Vincent and Rosemarie Harding – inner circle leaders of Martin Luther King’s band of justice-bringers – would once a year or so come and spend a week at Sojourners Community. They would always bring a word of healing and a word of challenge; they encouraged us to graciously accept the things we could not change and to engage those that we could.

One memorable reflection offered by Vincent — when members of Sojourners were feeling especially powerless around the Reagan administration’s policies in Central America, South Africa, and the Philippines — included the insight “we cannot create a social movement; we can only prepare for the social movement and then engage it as it arises.” Vincent was a believer in the power of the Holy Spirit, he was.

So, as I imagine John in the wilderness “making straight the way,” I wonder when the time is coming. When will we see the lion lie with the lamb? When will we see the mountains made low? When will justice roll down like the waters?

Or, is the time already around us? Are we ready? Are we prepared?

By Pastor John Hulden

Aren’t we as Minnesotans blessed with the beauty of the changing of the seasons?

Thursday was Thanksgiving. Friday was, well, Black. Yesterday was Christ the King Reign of Christ Sunday. That is followed by Cyber Monday. (OMGosh! I forgot to do all my Cyber Monday online shopping!) And now, Advent is upon us.

“In this ever-changing, post-Christendom, less-frequent-worship-attendance culture, December 24 on a Sunday poses a problem for many church leaders.”

What is your favorite season of the church year? I’ve been to more than one churchy gathering with rostered leaders and, when they are asked that question, a clear winner emerges every time: Advent!

I wonder what that says about us as church leaders? Do lovers of Advent like the theology, the darkness, the waiting, the already-not yet-ness, the counter-cultural response to Black Friday and Cyber Monday?

HOW ABOUT YOU? Where does Advent rank for you? Or, do you think church seasons are overrated?

This calendar year, December 24 is a Sunday, which means December 24 plays double duty: The Fourth Sunday in Advent is the morning and Christmas Eve is in the evening. (Note: As I write this, I realized that the Fourth Sunday in Advent is not actually on Christmas Eve — because Christmas eve doesn’t happen until the sun goes down on December 24!)

In this ever-changing, post-Christendom, less-frequent-worship-attendance culture, December 24 on a Sunday poses a problem for many church leaders. If you have a Fourth Sunday in Advent morning worship service on December 24, will anyone come? And if they do, will they be surprised/disappointed in hearing only the Joseph story from the first chapter of Matthew and singing Advent hymns?

“Do lovers of Advent like the theology, the darkness, the waiting, the already-not yet-ness, the counter-cultural response to Black Friday and Cyber Monday?”

Please note: Before I start a heated “discussion” in the comments about worship preferences, … I know that some congregations moved Advent up a week to begin on November 26. (Would that be Advent-loving people who didn’t want to compromise the Fourth Sunday of Advent this year?) And, I know that many congregations that use the Narrative lectionary will be reading John 1 the morning of December 24, and Luke 2 in the evening, and for Christmas Day you’ll be hearing about shepherds.

Whatever your congregation is planning for a December 24 that lands on a Sunday, please hear this:

• Thank you worship planners.
• Thanks bulletin creators and printers.
• Thanks musicians and worship leaders.
• Thanks preachers.
• Thanks building caretakers and door-lockers and –unlockers.
• Thanks organizers of efforts to care for those in need.
• Thanks Christmas pageant creators and performers and costume finders and makers.

Thanks for caring so much about your worshiping community as it gathers together in these Advent weeks leading up to the Festival of the Incarnation. (“Festival of the Incarnation” is my big seminary vocabulary title for Christmas.)

By Pastor Craig Pederson

Immersed in the major existential questions and day-to-day minutia of congregational life, it is easy for church leaders to forget about some of our most valuable colleagues who are not under the same roof as us.  I’m talking about chaplains – those ministers of the gospel who are called to provide spiritual care in hospitals, senior living facilities, prisons, and other non-congregational settings.

One of the many hats I have the privilege to wear on the synod staff is to serve as liaison to the chaplains in our synod. In addition to the occasional visits I enjoy to their sites for installations, retirements, and other celebrations, we host a twice-yearly breakfast gathering for chaplains at the synod office (one of which was just two weeks ago). These gatherings are rich times of conversation and sharing. Bishop Ann has the opportunity to share synod updates with the chaplains, and then we get to hear about the amazing work they are doing their settings.

I AM REMINDED OF how a chaplain’s context for ministry is often a microcosm of the broader culture in which we live. We listen to stories about the stress of rising health care and housing costs for patients, residents, employers, and families. We hear about the joys and challenges of multi-cultural dynamics for both staff and residents. We learn about the exploration of interfaith practices in providing spiritual care in these remarkably diverse places. We are reminded of the isolation that can occur among those who are ill, or elderly, or imprisoned, or addicted. And we are affirmed in the valuable partnership these colleagues provide to congregations throughout our synod.

A chaplain’s context for ministry is often a microcosm of the broader culture in which we live. 

Diane Greve, retired chaplain and current Synod Council member, serves as convener for the chaplains group. She has also assisted our office with formalizing the process for chaplains to receive a specialized call from our Synod Council to a non-congregational setting. To receive authorization for this type of call, chaplains are now expected to have attained, or be working toward, two important approvals: 1) ELCA endorsement, and 2) board certification. These two qualifications represent best practices in the field of chaplaincy for maintaining professional standards and for fostering the connection of our chaplains to the broader church.

Next time you visit a church member in the hospital, a loved one in hospice, a friend in prison, or a relative in a nursing home, give thanks that a chaplain has likely been there ahead of you or will follow shortly after you.  Theirs is a special call to serve among the most vulnerable of God’s people. We are grateful for their ministry!

By Pr. Kelly Chatman

As a Black kid growing up in Detroit, I had no idea what a Lutheran was, let alone some German guy named Martin Luther. I was in 7^th grade and I was on a venture to visit my new classmate Willie Wood’s church when I somehow got the directions wrong. (My wife would not be surprised to hear that.) I wandered into a Lutheran Church and no one there looked anything like Willie Woods. The entire Sunday school class was white, and I was embarrassed and wondering how I might make my exit.

This was back in 1963, and the tape in head was running reminding me that there are places where we do and do not belong. In my head it was very clear, I did not belong in that place. That is until two Sunday school teachers approached me. They escorted me to the front of the entire Sunday school and the Sunday school began to sing to me a song, “There’s a welcome here. There’s a welcome here. There is a Christian welcome here!” It was an experience I will never forget and one I will carry with me forever.

What’s that got to do with the Reformation? Everything, but I want to share with you a little bit about the journey I shared with our bishop and fellow pastors to Lutherland this summer.

I was one of 15 pastors from our synod invited to travel with our bishop to Germany. After we arrived in Berlin, we traveled by train to Leipzig where we were greeted by pastors and lay leaders from the church there. During our visit we learned about how, before the Iron Curtin (Berlin Wall) came down, life had been very difficult for people. There was a government force called the Stasis and it was invasive and oppressive in every way.

“Back then the system was built on something called indulgences. Today I believe we have a similar system in racism: Some people are encouraged to imagine God is more for them than others.”

The church emerged as a visible force of non-violent protest. The people of the Church of Leipzig would gather each week in the town square at St Nikolai Church to pray, sing hymns, and light candles.

Well, it got to the point that the Natazi (secret security) had seen about enough of those peaceful gatherings. The security forces gathered their soldiers equipped with their guns and they went to the town square ready to confront the protestors.

Imagine guns against candles, hymns, and prayers? Yep, you guessed it, candles, hymns, and prayers won. Maybe you didn’t guess it, but prayers, hymns, and candles resulted in a peaceful non-violent transition to a new future. The Berlin Wall came down in response to people of faith gathered each week to pray, sing, and light candles.

THE PEOPLE OF LEIPZIG, Germany, shared the time-honored witness of a monk (priest) named Martin Luther. 500 years ago, it was not the Natazi but a religious system holding the people hostage in their understanding of God. Religion had turned into a system where people were taught that you could somehow earn your way to God. Back then the system was built on something called indulgences.

Today we have a similar system in racism; some people are encouraged to imagine God is more for them than others. The Reformation challenges us to remember we all sin and fall short of the glory of God. Our baptism reminds us that by God’s grace we are restored to unity in Jesus Christ. We are imperfect, die each day to sin, restored to new life in Christ. In other words, “There’s a welcome here. There is a Christian welcome here!”

The Reformation is the anniversary of the date when Martin Luther nailed 95 Theses (arguments) on a church door, challenging us to acknowledge that God has already done the heavy lifting; all we do is in response to what God has already done. It is in response to God giving God’s life for the world God loves, we can sing, pray, and light candles.

“The Berlin Wall came down in response to people of faith gathered each week to pray, sing, and light candles.”

Because God gave God’s life on the cross, we march and walk for justice and peace. The Reformation was not and is not just Martin Luther. Many other cool people joined in the movement that birthed faithful expressions — the Moravian, Episcopal, United Methodist, Presbyterian, and other Protestant churches. Thank God for the witness of Lutherans who picked up the torch (candles) and gathered at the square outside St Nikolai Church to put their lives on the line, like that monk who started a reformation.

So, the Reformation goes on; we are not done yet. This is not the time to put down our candles. The church, our world, and our lives are still in need of reform-ation.

My prayer on this 500^th Anniversary of the Reformation is that, as we gather in our congregations and we sing, pray, and light candles, we continue to share our light in those into those places made dark due to injustice, inequity, environmental neglect, and white supremacy. Blessings to us all on this 500^th year of the Reformation.

By Pr. Deb Stehlin