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By Rev. John Hulden, Assistant to the Bishop

I took piano lessons from my dear, dear Mother. Besides being the church organist/soloist/choir director in many of my dad’s parishes, my Mom also had many piano students. I’m sure I was her worst student. I never practiced. Ever.

My guess … by the time she got me to take out the garbage, clean my room, and put away the clean dishes, I totally ignored her calls for me to practice piano. But my Mom is brilliant. She bought me easy-to-play pop music. So yes, I mastered — all on my own, I thought — the “easy” arrangement of “Classical Gas”. (Here’s the original)

On our piano, besides sheet music, a copy of the red hymnal (the ol’ SBH) always sat opened. Evidently bored with “easy” pop music, I paged through the hymns. I got to #129. There it was, a short and easy-to-play hymn: “Spirit of God, descend upon my heart.” (It was in the key of “C” … with really simple chords!)

I mastered SBH #129.

And my young self, became intrigued with the words……..enchanted even.

Spirit of God, descend upon my heart;
                Wean it from earth, through all its pulses move;
                Stoop to my weakness, mighty as thou art,
                And make me love thee as I ought to love.

This was not how I talked as a ten-year-old. This was, well, poetry…

I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies,
No sudden rending of the veil of clay,
No angel visitant, no opening skies;
But take the dimness of my soul away.

IN THESE LAST FEW YEARS of going to worship more than leading worship, I’ve grown to appreciate two things. (And I really enjoy visiting congregations for worship in our Minneapolis Area Synod!) I crave passion and mystery in worship.

Worship is central. As worship leaders, we need to care deeply about what we are doing “up there” — and it is a beautiful thing when that passion shows. And of course, we don’t have all the answers. There is no perfect worship service. God is there. We, the people, doing the work of the people, that is, liturgy, are there. And it is a beautiful thing when there is space and time for mystery.

On our piano, besides sheet music, a copy of the red hymnal (the ol’ SBH) always sat opened.

I invite you to pay attention to the words that go along with our music. I’m hoping that, even as the dark days of winter get even darker in the weeks ahead, maybe a little poetry will … take the dimness of my soul away.

P.S. Thanks Mom!

As I opened the over-sized cardboard box, I first noticed an ancient-looking coloring book page with pastel markings of a bunny and an egg. But the next level of excavation in this container my aunt had dutifully kept for decades yielded an advertisement carefully cut out of a magazine when I was likely still in single digits.

The ad was a drawing of familiarly-dressed Puritans and “Indians” sitting at a backyard picnic table with a grill going in the background. This backyard mash up merged the 1960s and the 1620s in a seemingly magical way.

I pondered the national mythology around Thanksgiving — two communities committed to sharing out of abundance for the good of all. What a beautiful image for an age of racial strife.

Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz challenges this idealized image a bit in her 2014 book “An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States.”

WHILE THE FIRST “Thanksgiving” is said to have taken place at Plymouth Colony between the Wampanoag Nation and the Puritans, similar events were replicated wherever settlers were experiencing difficulty producing sufficient food for their colonists. Dunbar-Ortiz recounts this experience regarding a similar situation in the Virginia Colony:

“The first Jamestown settlers lacked a supply line and proved unable or unwilling to grow or hunt for their own sustenance. They decided that they would force the farmers of the Powhatan Confederacy — some thirty polities — to provide them with food. Jamestown military leader John Smith threatened to kill all the women and children if the Powhatan leaders would not feed and clothe the settlers as well as provide them with land and labor. The leader of the confederacy, Wahunsonacock, entreated the invaders:

Why should you take by force that from us which you can have by love? Why should you destroy us, who have provided you with food? What can you get by war? … What is the cause of your jealousy? You see us unarmed, and willing to supply your wants, if you will come in a friendly manner, and not with swords and guns, as to invade an enemy.”

This historic account is so different than the image presented by our cultural communication. It is so tempting to buy into the myth of hospitality that we ignore the reality of hostility.

It is so tempting to buy into the myth of hospitality around Thanksgiving that we ignore the reality of hostility.

Even as I write this, about a dozen rostered and lay leaders from the Minneapolis Area Synod are driving out to Standing  Rock Reservation in North Dakota to stand in solidarity with that Water Protectors opposing the Dakota Access Pipeline. Previous delegations from the synod have been hospitably received. They plan to listen, to provide infrastructure support, and to stand beside those who are encamped.

In a November 14 statement, Presiding Bishop Elizabeth Eaton said, “This past August, the 2016 ELCA Churchwide Assembly passed a resolution repudiating the doctrine of discovery. In it we pledged to ‘practice accompaniment with Native peoples.’ The doctrine declared that indigenous land was ‘unoccupied’ as long as Christians were not present. … Many of us in this church who are immigrants have benefitted from the injustices done to the original inhabitants of this land where we now live and worship. … When we repudiated the doctrine of discovery, we Lutherans pledged to do better together in the future than we have in the past.”

After Bishop Eaton acknowledged the complexity of the issues facing the church and the society, she encouraged congregations to:

• stand with the Standing Rock Sioux tribal members
• pray for them and their allies
• offer material support
• examine the racism inherent in our social system, contributing to the current crisis

As we gather around table this Thanksgiving — whether with families of origin or families of choice — I hope we can remember the warmth of hospitality without forgetting the challenge of hostility.

By Bob Hulteen, Director of Communications and Stewardship

Since I am now an ardent advocate of nonviolence, many readers who know me might be surprised to find out that I was often in fist fights during the three-block walk home from my elementary school. (It might be more accurate to say that I often lost fist fights. Perhaps that was part of the reason to choose nonviolence.)

But, it wasn’t my fault. It was Rafe, the guy who lived kitty-corner from my backyard. As early as third grade, we had some deep disagreements over such things as favorite baseball players and local school mascots. One early fight – perhaps the first – occurred when the Presbyterian sixth-grader walking with us opined that the difference between Catholics (which Rafe was) and Lutherans (that would be me) was that Catholics could drink and swear and Lutherans could not. Such were the passions of youth. We fought because we were of different clans.

 
A COUPLE DECADES AFTER my extra-curricular sparring matches and nearly five centuries after Martin Luther left behind some literature on a cathedral door, I found myself sitting in a classroom at Luther Seminary, watching the live video feed from Lund, Sweden, of Bishop Munib Younan, the president of the Lutheran World Federation and the bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Jordan and the Holy Land, and the Bishop of Rome, also known as Pope Francis, sign a joint declaration pledging to improve relations through on-going dialogue and to be agents of healing throughout God’s created order.

As I watched the service and the signing, I was less captivated by the words than the optics. The musical choices – especially the voices of the global choir – were stunning. The visual commitment to global expression was very impressive. And, the high point for me was the slow procession of five young people each lighting a candle for the five commitments to on-going connection between the Roman Catholic and Lutheran World Federation judicatory bodies.

The joint commitment to common, on-going humanitarian and peacemaking efforts is a good starting point toward bridging the schism that has defined the last 500 years.

The joint commitment to common, on-going humanitarian and peacemaking efforts is a good starting point toward bridging the schism that has defined the last 500 years. Unfortunately, the day after this historic event, we were reminded of fissures that remain as the Pope declared that women would never be priests within the Catholic communion. (Of course, having only men on the altar at the service and signing ceremony could have been taken as a foretaste of the announcement to come.)

Despite tangible excitement for this unique service of commitment to staying in relationship, differences remain. The dialogue will take gifted leaders willing to share openly and humbly together. A path for continued reconciliation lies before us.

So, what do you think about Lutherans and Catholics worldwide finding points of agreement and working to seek deepening connection? I’d love to hear what you think. Maybe even over a beer … but watch your language.

Photo permission: Svenska kyrkan äger fri nyttjanderätt

By Rev. Craig Pederson, Assistant to the Bishop

By this time of the fall, church councils and committees are in full swing – implementing the ministry plans laid months ago, and looking forward to the New Year and the opportunities that lie ahead.  No matter the size of the church, I continuously marvel at the commitment of lay leaders who navigate the complexities of church life: finances, personnel policies, worship planning, community engagement, electronic media, and justice concerns, to name just a few.

As your synod staff, we want to provide as many resources — TOOLS! – as possible to assist lay leaders in their tasks of ministry!

To that end, we are happy to offer the latest and greatest installment of the Synod Tool Kit for Lay Leaders on Saturday, November 5, from 9am – 12 noon at Lord of Life Lutheran Church in Maple Grove. 

What is in the Tool Kit that may be of interest to you?  Your choice of 12 workshops (50 minutes in length) on a variety of topics that we believe will be of great value to congregational lay leaders.

Topics will include:

9:00 – 9:50 a.m.

• Join the Wellness Reformation!
• Maximizing Gifts to Family and Ministry
• Creating A Narrative Budget
• Organizing For The Common Good: Assets and Strategies
• Three Great Listenings
• How To Run A Meeting

10:00 – 10:50 a.m.

• EcoFaith in Practice: Greening Your Church’s Turf Grass Sustainably
• Moving From Welcoming To Inviting
• Refresh Your Website
• Writing Your Racial Justice Mission Statement
• Creative A Narrative Budget
• Background Checks and Volunteer Coordination

As the title of the event suggests, these workshops are specifically meant to be useful for lay leaders.  Now, if your pastor comes with you, we won’t kick her or him out!  But we recognize that the information and training needed for lay leadership responsibilities is different than that of a pastor.  We hope to provide a space for you to learn and inquire and feel like your Saturday morning time was well spent!

For more information and to register for the event, click here.  We hope to see you there!

By Rev. Deb Stehlin, Director for Evangelical Mission

I’m still a little bit surprised that a) I am Lutheran, and b) I’m a pastor. When I was planning out my life as a young adult, my goal was to climb the corporate ladder as high as I could as a woman. An office on executive row was the goal because, from early childhood, my mother told me that I could be anything I wanted.

I believed her.

Half-way up the ladder, my neighbor Char Anderson invited me to her Lutheran church, and everything changed. It was there that I was introduced to a God of grace. I didn’t need to climb a ladder to make my way up to God; God came down in Jesus and claimed me as God’s beloved child. My little world was blown apart, and I was drawn deeply into the blessing of congregational life and, eventually, to seminary.

All because I learned who God is.

That might be enough for any one person, but my life in the Lutheran church has continued to draw me out of my bubble into relationships I could never have imagined. If I wasn’t part of the Lutheran church, I doubt that I would have engaged in issues of racial justice. And I highly doubt that I would have bumped up against my white privilege.

LAST WEEKEND, I WAS one of 450 people at the “Journeying Toward Justice” retreat at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Minneapolis. To put it bluntly, the scales have fallen from my eyes.

Now, I’m learning that parts of me need to die in order to fully live into the implications of being white. I’m learning that this country was founded on white supremacy, that I am a beneficiary of racist systems and structures, and that I am complicit. There are lots of things I need to unlearn, too. It’s challenging. I’m still not clear about what it all means, but my little world is being blown apart again.

I had no idea that this life with God would both deconstruct and reconstruct me over and over again.

Here’s the thing: I had no idea that this life with Lutherans would lead to such liberation. I had no idea that this life with God would both deconstruct and reconstruct me over and over again.

I wonder if Char Anderson had any idea about this on the day she knocked on my door to invite me to her Lutheran church. And, if you were part of the event last weekend, what did it do to you?

By Bob Hulteen, Director of Communications and Stewardship

Running out the door of my house to catch the bus, I overheard a rather intimate conversation between a father and daughter as he accompanied her to the school just two blocks east. “That’s what being homeless means, honey,” he said. “We don’t have a house.”

A little disheveled, this father and daughter slowly ambled toward the school. The daughter appeared tired and cold … and hopefully she would welcome the transition from survival to schoolwork. Seemingly as obvious, the dad was trying to prepare her for the lessons she would learn inside a warm building – probably hoping beyond hope that those lessons would be more memorable than the ones of spending the night in a city bus or under a bridge or at a shelter.

I didn’t plan to listen to this conversation. And, truthfully, I didn’t hear too much of it. I didn’t approach the pair, inhibited by my concern that my attention would be embarrassing to them. I was more of a voyeur, I suppose. But, I did let the conversation sink in; it reminded me that not everyone’s life is just like mine.

I HAD JUST SPENT the previous three days with about 100 rostered leaders at the Bishop’s Theological Conference under the theme “Real Presence: With Our Neighbors, In Our Neighborhoods.” From beginning to end of this retreat, the most discussed way to be “really present” with people is to listen to their stories.

Jesus showed real presence by being a curious listener. He would ask questions, listen to answers, and then respond. But his response was normally based on transforming the assumed paradigm from a presenting issue to the deeper problem. He challenged the assumptions, often embarrassing the powers that be through questions with no good answers. Cornered, the leaders often had to measure their response carefully.

The day after the Bishop’s Theological Conference, I spent some time with West Metro candidates for the state legislature. I made a case that public policy changes could address several situations wherein people with less wealth and more financial vulnerability are denied access to participation in alternative energy programs. One candidate responded by stating that churches should “provide charity to needy individuals.”

From beginning to end of this retreat, the most discussed way to be “really present” with people is to listen to their stories.

Clearly, this candidate wanted to deal honorably with the presenting problem. Let’s find a way to get these people access, she imagined.

But, I don’t think she was willing to hear the way Jesus hears – diving into the deeper waters. He challenged the assumptions, so we can too. He found systemic solutions to structural problems so that marginalized people could participate fully and with dignity in civil society, so we can too.

I don’t think my only response to the father and daughter walking to school should be to invite them to move in with me. (Though, I do agree that might be a good initial action on my part.) Wouldn’t it be wonderful to identify the barriers that are keeping this dad and daughter from having a place to call home? Wouldn’t it be better to address those barriers for them and for all those like them who are on the streets?

Isn’t that Real Presence?

By Rev. John Hulden, Assistant to the Bishop

Way back in 1987, I was brand new at this “pastor” thing. My first call was to Bethany Lutheran on the lower Eastside of Saint Paul. Thankfully, the faithful people at that little church helped teach me about ministry. To learn about ministry at and around Bethany, I had to depend on the lay folks – because the only staff at Bethany were the organist, the bulletin-typer-and-copier person, the custodian, and me.

But another person was instrumental in helping me understand the neighborhood and the DNA of the congregation; her name was Fern. Although Fern never got paid (more on that later), she had keys to the church building and would often check to see if I had forgotten to lock the doors after I had left.

The morning of a Saturday wedding, Fern would unlock the church, welcome the wedding party, help them get situated, stay until the last wedding guest left, and lock up the building. What a gift to me and my family on those Saturdays! During the week, Fern’s kitchen table was a great place for me to be schooled about the changing blue collar neighborhood that was losing all of its blue collar jobs.

During the week, Fern’s kitchen table was a great place for me to be schooled about the changing blue collar neighborhood that was losing all of its blue collar jobs.

JUST THIS MORNING, the synod hosted a Staff Appreciation event. A bunch of church staff folks from Minneapolis Area Synod congregations showed up to be thanked for their ministry. There were really cool door prizes, a great Bible Study by Pr. Catherine Malotky, time for prayer and support,  … and Lutheran swag (a gift bag). Who knows, maybe a few new peer groups will get started! (Our MÁS Peer Group Leadership Team hosted the event.)

In the days leading up to this event, memories came flooding back of all the dedicated co-workers I’ve had the privilege of partnering in ministry with the last 30 years. And it all started with Fern and a handful of other faithful folks at Bethany Lutheran at Forest Street and Jenks Avenue.

My confession? Why, oh why, didn’t I anoint Fern the official Wedding Coordinator and charge a fee to every wedding couple? I know she could have used the money.

Thanks be to God for the Holy Spirit working in and through the folks who make congregations tick, I know I’d be lost without ‘em.

By Bob Hulteen, Director of Communications and Stewardship

Just call me “the truth teller.”

My colleagues all write blogs “bragging” about the wonderful activities of the synod. Yes, we are hosting tool kit workshops for lay leaders and theological conferences for rostered leaders. Yes, we are engaging congregations on critical issues related to the environmental and racial justice. Yes, we are identifying, recruiting, and developing new leaders for our synod.

So, you probably are thinking, “Wow, that office – full of such devoted servants of the gospel – must really be buzzing all the time.”

Sure, “this is most certainly true.” But when is energy the highest? Game day! Thursdays at 5 pm, there are trades and rumors of trades. Last minute lineup changes can sometimes shut our server down.

That’s right. We have an office fantasy football league. And, holy cow, do we take it seriously. Don’t get between me and my Yahoo Sports app on a Sunday afternoon. (Of course, I don’t turn my phone on until the processional hymn is over and I am well out of the sanctuary.)

WITH TEAM NAMES like “Justified by Wins” (Craig), “Soli Dee Gloria” (Dee, of course), and “Largest Catechism” (yours truly), we manage as if we believe in the “priesthood of wide receivers.” When we are talking Numbers, we don’t mean the fourth book of the Hebrew Scriptures; it’s a shorthand question for how the quarterbacks did this week.

If you thought that “Jesus wept” when Lazarus died, you should have seen Jeni after her Running Back scores came in over the day on Sunday. I actually heard gnashing of teeth, I think.

Surprisingly, I don’t really care all that much about football anymore; the injuries and off-field problems and stadiums have left me uninterested in the actual game. But I love fantasy, even though it is the ESPNization of football – stats over team loyalty; highlights over good team play.

Please don’t think less of us. We are good, hard-working people. But what does God require? We just believe were are called to “do justice, love kindness, and not be fumbly with our God.”

 By Emilie Bouvier, Congregational Organizer for Environmental Justice

Growing up listening to Joni Mitchell songs, whenever I think of the heavy use of pesticides and herbicides, this line immediately comes to mind: “Give me spots on my apples, but leave me the birds and the bees, PLEE-EE-EE-EEESE!”

But song lyrics aside, a Rick Haney quote has stuck with me as I’ve read about the pollution issues that have become literally embedded in our soil and seeped through our waters: “Soil is not a chemistry set, it’s a biological system. We’ve treated it like a chemistry set because the chemistry is easier to measure than the soil biology” (https://orionmagazine.org/article/dirt-first/).

This is, of course, a long and nuanced conversation when it comes to agriculture – considering the real pressures that farmers face to produce high yields and continue to make a living in an industry with high risk, difficult demands, and large-scale corporate farming competition. One place where it seems pretty doable to treat the soil less like a chemistry set and more like a natural ecosystem is in the “backyard” of church properties. As congregations in our synod are coming together to care for the water, we are asked the critical question: “Is the water better or worse for the wear after it falls on this place where we gather for worship and community?”

When the rain comes, does it collect to nourish flowers and grasses that support bees and critters? Does it grow food that we use to feed the community? Does it green the grass and soak into the soil? As it runs off nonporous places like roofs, sidewalks, parking lots, what kinds of pollutants does it carry to the river and how can we minimize those negative affects?

As faith communities we have an opportunity with church properties to live into a vision beyond the status quo of over-using pesticides and herbicides to keep our grass green.

AT THE ELCA Churchwide Assembly, representatives of the Minneapolis Area Synod brought forward the same resolution that was passed at its own synod assembly this past spring – encouraging congregations to know their watershed address, to be aware of where their water comes from and where it flows to. It’s a call to better understand and steward this resource that we rely on for life – that also flows through our scriptural narratives and over our heads in baptism, marking us as beloved children of God.

Pastor Chris Chiles, one of the leaders in the synod’s EcoFaith Network of earth-stewards, brought three jars of water to the stage as she spoke to the importance of caring for the water as people of faith. All three contained Mississippi River water – one from the headwaters, one from the water as it flows through the Twin Cities, and one from the Mississippi in New Orleans, where the assembly was gathered, not far from where the river meets the gulf. The difference in the quality of the water was dramatic. Our waters are hurting.

So what does this have to do with our church lawns? Well, each plot of land is integrally connected to the larger watershed, and we have opportunities and challenges in mitigating our water’s pollution as every time the “heavens open up” and the rain falls. As faith communities we have an opportunity to live into a vision beyond the status quo of over-using pesticides and herbicides to keep our grass green. We get to ask the question, what does it mean to truly be a good neighbor and model good stewardship? Caring for our properties while cutting down on use of chemicals like pesticides and herbicides is just one such response.

But quick, before visions of dandelion fields and creeping vines overtaking whole buildings, let me assure you “sustainable lawn” does not have to mean “neighborhood weed patch,” as the U of M Extension SULIS team is quick to point out. There’s a lot of good study and strategy behind sustainably dealing with lawns and grasses that keep significant weed infestation to a minimum. The key is understanding the exposure/habitat of the space, knowing what kind of grass will succeed there, keeping a thick cover to keep weeds out (the greatest cause of weeds is actually stressed or thin grass), and embracing a bit of diversity in the grass.

Below are a couple of good resources in reading up on how to understand and care for your green space while using minimal to no herbicides. Though you don’t need to stop there – the synod will be hosting a workshop on sustainable lawn care at our next Toolkit for Congregational Leaders on Saturday November 5. Come and join us!

http://www.extension.umn.edu/garden/landscaping/maint/weed.htm
https://www.pca.state.mn.us/sites/default/files/p-tr1-04.pdf

By Rev. Deb Stehlin, Director of Evangelical Mission 

“The body of Christ, given for you.” It’s more than a bite of bread and sip of wine. This meal comes with a promise: Jesus has given his life away as gift, freeing and strengthening me for whatever life might throw at me.

Real presence: I don’t think I’d survive the struggle without it.

Once, I was in the presence of two powerful women in Mexico, who were doing community organizing to make life better for their children. We were on the banks of a green river, flowing with contaminants from a nearby factory. They raised their kids 50 feet from that river under corrugated tin shacks. As they told their story, I pointed to a Quonset hut church with a big picture of Jesus painted on the side. “Tell me about that church,” I asked.

Think about the power of the real presence of Jesus that’s given at table after table after table each week!

The woman’s face clouded over and she shook her head: “They are not with us in our struggle.”

That prophetic statement has stuck with me. Even now, I wonder if people who walk by our churches say the same thing: “They are not with us in our struggle.” Whether the struggle is racial and economic injustice, the challenge of raising kids, figuring out the meaning of life, surviving the rat race – you name it – what do our neighbors say?

A struggle shared in a Jesus community is lighter. But it’s not just about suffering. Joy shared with others is multiplied. The birth of a child. A new job. Hearing, “You are in remission.” We were created to be part of community that embodies the real presence of Jesus.

I GET TO BE in a lot of congregations in our synod. I tell you, it’s the best job ever. Here’s why: On any given Sunday, I could hear the words of institution early in the morning, and then drive somewhere else to be at another table. One such Sunday, as I drove home, I marveled with God, “God, you have a lot of tables where Jesus gives himself away.” Think about the power of the real presence of Jesus that’s given at table after table after table each week!

Thank you for all the ways that your congregation listens to the struggles of your neighbors. I am grateful for the space you make for people to share their joys.

I thank God for the gift of real presence.

Each year rostered leaders throughout the synod gather at the Bishop’s invitation for two days of theological reflection, renewal, and relationship. This year the title of the Bishop’s Theological Conference is “Real Presence: With our neighbors, in our neighborhoods.” We gather September 25-27 at Cragun’s Resort and Hotel near Brainerd to dialogue about this “real presence.”