Staff Blogs

Recently I participated in the installations of two new pastors who were called to serve churches set in very different contexts. One was a thriving congregation in an affluent suburb, the other was a new mission start in an eclectic urban neighborhood.

Both of these installation services were distinct and wonderful. Still, each shared a common, clear statement that the call of these pastors came from the “whole church” – that is, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America through its three expressions. For Lutherans, this “three-fold” understanding of the church is foundational to our life together as the body of Christ.

For Lutherans, a “three-fold” understanding of the church is foundational to our life together as the body of Christ.

Aaron Werner installation, Mt. Calvary, Excelsior

Of course this is not news to most of you who will read this post! But if you’re like me, you may have lost sight of this connectedness a time or two – like when you are in a church finance meeting wondering how you’re going to make ends meet, or when you’re planning an outreach event and wishing you had more volunteer resources to pull it off, or when you want to renew your worship experience but don’t quite know how to do it.

God calls us to serve and “go deep” in a particular context, but we are not called to do this service alone. I like how succinctly our ELCA website describes our life together: “Since our beginning in 1988, the ELCA has been one church body organized in three expressions — congregations, synods, and the churchwide organization. Each expression has its particular functions but all three together share a common mission of doing God’s work in the world and proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ.”

 

AT OUR BEST, LIKE nutrients flowing through the vital systems of our human bodies, life-giving resources flow freely throughout our three expressions. Financial offerings, prayers, leadership training, justice-seeking efforts, and faith development resources all work together to strengthen and support the building up of this body – all for the sake of sharing Christ’s love with the world.

This is the season of annual meetings, election of new Church Councils, the beginning of new fiscal years, and a renewed sense of purpose as the people of God in our unique contexts. As you review your congregation’s Annual Report you will find (hopefully!) reports from Bishop Svennungsen, Presiding Bishop Eaton, and possibly other ministry partners from across the larger church. Let those be a reminder and an encouragement that you are not alone, that we are the body of Christ together for the sake of the world!

By Rev. Craig Pederson, Assistant to the Bishop

During this time of year, we see an endless stream of “Best of” and “Top Ten” lists that review practically every aspect of our lives – the best doctor, dentist, burger, beer, car, microwave, movie, musical, etc.  Some of these lists are data-driven, some are the opinions of experts in the field, and some are just plain fun. 

Healthy, vital congregations, in my experience, often share one faithful practice; they identify their “best of” ministries through regular assessment and evaluation. They also celebrate those ministries that are making a Christ-filled impact in the lives of their members and the surrounding community. In addition, they are honest in acknowledging that some ministries may no longer be serving a meaningful purpose in terms of advancing the mission of the congregation.

This process of review and evaluation is perhaps best undertaken in two steps:

1. Does the mission of your church still fit who God is calling you to be?
2. Do the ministries of your church support the mission to which you are called?

Vital churches regularly review and renew their mission. Pastors and lay leaders are then bold and humble enough to say that some ministries that once held great value may no longer be needed.

If you are not doing so already, now is a good time to make your “Best of (your church name here!)__ Lutheran Church” list. Have fun with it, be graceful about it, and let it inform your planning for an even better 2017!

By Rev. Deb Stehlin, Director for Evangelical Mission

As I’ve been out and about lately, I’ve noticed people wearing safety pins. It’s something that first started after the Brexit vote in Europe, as a sign that the person wearing the pin is “safe.” A person wearing a safety pin has decided to help if someone is being harassed because of their race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, or immigrant status. They have decided to put their bodies in a place of tension — even danger.

That got me thinking about Jesus.

Jesus was very intentional about where he put his body. He’d arrive in a town and choose to show up in the uncomfortable places – the outskirts of town where the lepers were deported, the lonely place at the Samaritan well, the wrong side of the tracks where sinners and tax collectors gathered.

People started to pay attention to where Jesus put his body. Why? Because every time he chose to put his body somewhere, it made a strong statement about God’s dream for the world. It made a strong statement about who matters in the reign of God.

Where one chooses to put her or his body matters because it puts flesh on Jesus’ promise to be with us always, even to the end of the age.

His prophetic work eventually resulted in government and religious authorities putting Jesus’ body on a cross. And rather than participate in the empire’s system of violence, Jesus chose forgiveness over retaliation. He chose self-giving love. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing,” his body cried.

THIS ADVENT, AS WE remember that God came to us in a body, I am more mindful of the places of tension where our synod’s people are putting their bodies. Our bishop and others have prayed by the river with the water protectors at Standing Rock. Pastor Jane Buckley-Farlee walks with our Somali brothers and sisters who wonder what the future holds for them. Pastors Patrick and Luisa Cabello Hansel pray with their members who fear deportation. Others march to remind us that Black Lives Matter. Many others sit by bedsides, whispering prayers for God to bring healing to bodies that are sick.

Where one chooses to put her or his body matters, not only because it makes a strong statement about God’s dream for the world, but also because it puts flesh on Jesus’ promise to be with us always, even to the end of the age.

I thank God for you and all the ways you put flesh on God’s fierce love for us in Jesus Christ.

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.