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By Pastor Craig Pederson

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.”  (Hebrews 12:1-2)

This is a time of year for endings: school years, graduations, church program years, confirmations, Timberwolves seasons (which has blissfully been extended this year, but probably not for much longer).

The endings in our household are heightened this year. I’m in the last week of my position as an assistant to Bishop Ann Svennungsen. It is also the last week of high school for our youngest child, Nora, who graduates on June 8.

For Nora, it is also the end of an enjoyable high school sports career that she shared with her dear friends. For five years, she has played soccer in the fall, basketball in the winter, and ran (and high-jumped) in track and field in the spring.

“As the baton of faith is passed from one generation to the next, sometimes the handoff is smooth and energizing.”

This year’s track season will not likely experience the same crescendo as the previous three, when her 4 x 200 meter and 4 x 400 meter relay teams went to the state tournament. Then two key seniors graduated, and this year’s team hasn’t quite found that extra gear.

But they ran their races hard. They ran with perseverance. And, they ran with joy!

FAITH IS LIKE A relay race. Is that a simplistic analogy? Kind of, … but if it worked for the writer of Hebrews, it works for me!

There is a great cloud of witnesses who, in their unique times and places, ran the race of faith before us. They did their best to believe and receive God’s freely given grace, to teach their children, to love their neighbors, and to form (and reform!) a church that would give glory to God. Holy scripture, bread and wine, and baptismal waters shaped their faith in ways that gave them endurance to trudge through the hard parts of the race, and to celebrate the wins that came when they glimpsed the kingdom of God among them.

As the baton of faith is passed from one generation to the next, sometimes the handoff is smooth and energizing. Sometimes it is shaky, and costs valuable time to try and overcome the flub. And sometimes, the baton is dropped – requiring an assessment of what happened, and a correction to try and prevent it from happening again.

“The cloud of witnesses did their best to believe and receive God’s freely given grace, to teach their children, to love their neighbors, and to form (and reform!) a church that would give glory to God.”

During my nine-and-a-half years on the synod staff, I’ve had the privilege and responsibility to assist with more than 150 transitions of rostered leaders in congregations. Most of these handoffs went smoothly, but some were a bit shaky and required extra attention. And a few were rough – the baton was dropped, assessments were needed, and corrections and new approaches were undertaken.

As I prepare to hand the baton to the new synod staff members, I celebrate the joys of this ministry, and I confess where I could have done better.

As I prepare to receive the baton in my new position as pastor of Augustana Lutheran Church in Minneapolis, I’m in awe of the faithfulness of previous generations who built that church and its social service institutions like Augustana Care Corporation and Community Emergency Service (CES). And I’m ready to persevere with them through some of their recent challenges to discover a “second wind” with the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

And as we do among the generations, I trust Jesus – the pioneer and perfector of our faith – to make whole the places that are broken, to provide perseverance for the race, and to inspire joy where the shame of the cross gives way to the glory of God!

By Pastor Wondimu Sonessa

Long before the spreading of formal education, the priests of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church were teaching how to read and write. I remember some students joining our second-grade class because the government declared that such instruction was illegal and all children must join government schools.

About the same time, I found a piece of paper these students dropped on our classroom floor and read a story about Jesus’ incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection for the first time. For some reason, I didn’t throw it away. I took it home after school and read it to my uncle and asked him who Jesus is and how a man can live again after death. He told me that it is not for us ordinary people to talk about and understand this story. He stated that the Orthodox priests only can speak about Jesus.

I was not still baptized because my parents were adherents of Islam though my grandfather and all my dad’s siblings went to the Orthodox church occasionally. But four years later, at the age of 12, I received the Holy Baptism with my mom and my younger siblings, on the day of Ethiopian Epiphany at the Orthodox church.

“Jesus came to our village through local farmers preaching the gospel, healing the sick, setting people free from evil spirits, and giving peace and hope to the poor and the marginalized in society.”

Although it was beyond my little brain to comprehend what it means to be baptized in the name of the Holy Trinity, I remember the feeling of excitement and joy that being called a Christian created in my heart. Here started the companionship of the Holy Spirit that carried me through until Jesus himself, whose story I read from that piece of paper, came and found me when I was 17.

FOR ME, THAT WAS a time of transition as it is the case with every Ethiopian teenager. The country was in a traumatizing war between the military regime and the then-freedom fighters. For the adherents of Protestant Christianity, it was a time of severe persecution. Inviting someone to believe in Jesus was deemed a crime by the law of the country. Missionaries from America and Europe were not allowed to stay in the country because they were considered a threat for the regime’s socialist (and atheist) ideology.

“Although it was beyond my little brain to comprehend what it means to be baptized in the name of the Holy Trinity, I remember the feeling of excitement and joy that being called a Christian created in my heart.”

Amid this, the gospel they preached has already started to bear fruit. The Evangelical churches were in a spiritual warfare against the oppressive, unclean, and killer spirit ingrained in individual life, religious practices, and societal systems. They were committed to spreading the message of peace, hope, and love through telling the story of Jesus beyond boundaries.

Consequently, Jesus came to our village through local farmers preaching the gospel, healing the sick, setting people free from evil spirits, and giving peace and hope to the poor and the marginalized in society. The sermons that changed my life were preached by these lay preachers whose education doesn’t exceed elementary school.

VERY RECENTLY, I STARTED to wrestle with the question of whether I found Jesus’ name on the piece of paper or Jesus himself found an eight-year-old me on the second-grade floor. This brings to my mind the question Nathanael asked Jesus, saying, “Where did you get to know me?” Jesus answered, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you” (John 1:48).

“The sermons that changed my life were preached by these lay preachers whose education doesn’t exceed elementary school.”

Jesus came to the earth to find the lost and the less religious “ordinary people.” He confirms this when he asserts, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matthew 15:24). It is true that God knows us even before we were born. But the question that matters to believers in Jesus Christ is beyond chronological order of our encounter with the divine reality. We all need to wrestle daily with the question of whether we are leading a life worthy of the calling to which we have been called (Eph 4:1).

We are called to share God’s love with God’s world. This requires hearing, understanding, and telling the story of Jesus’ incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection.

By Emilie Bouvier

When I lead art workshops with faith groups, one of my favorite activities is to use the Creation image from the Art of the Saint John’s Bible as our launching point. It is such a layered and captivating piece, and I always start by observing the intricate details – from geometric fractals to strands of DNA, from delicate constellations to wood cut stamps of fish.

After guiding the group in a visio divina exploring the image, I introduce the concept of what we’re looking at – an “illuminated manuscript.” This is the core concept to the Saint John’s Bible, a contemporary revisiting of the medieval monastic practice of handwriting the scriptures and incorporating “illuminated” illustrations alongside the text as spiritual and theological practice. “Illuminations” are characterized by carefully adding goal leaf throughout the designs to signify God’ presence. Shimmering, reflective, and precious, the gold marks the sacred and draws the viewer’s eye to it. “Now look again,” I’d say. “Where do you see God’s presence stirring in the story?”

“I have long been interesting on reflecting on art making as a spiritual practice.”

Then, no matter what art medium I happen to be teaching the group that day, it will somehow involve gold paint. First, of course, we’ll do the image-making – usually photography, printmaking, or collage – and then go back over the image to trace outlines and layer new patterns in gold. This simple practice quickly becomes a holy time. Paintbrush or marker in-hand, these traces become a tangible way to invite God’s presence, to listen quietly, to discern, and to name in shimmering reflections where God is at work.

I’VE BEEN YEARNING for this in my own life these days – a spiritual practice of reflection and invitation. And when life feels filled up with screens and schedules, I find myself longing for the tactile beauty of art supplies and a tiny window of quiet time. It always amazes me how just a few moments of prayer-filled creating can hold space for wonder, longing, and gratitude.

I have long been interested in reflecting on art making as a spiritual practice. I was recently honored to receive a show at Hopkins Center for the Arts in the Redeppening Gallery. Preparing a new body of work for this exhibition will be the heart of my summer creative time. I truly cannot wait for schedule flexibility to have long hours of solitude in the studio that are a spiritual respite and balm for my soul.

“When life feels filled up with screens and schedules, I find myself longing for the tactile beauty of art supplies and a tiny window of quiet time.”

Unlike prior shows, however, this time I have felt a tug to practice what I preach and bring on the gold paint. Alongside my traditional framed prints, I will be working on several sculptural pieces that incorporate this process – which I hope will hold me to the same kind of reflection, openness, and spiritual centering that I’ve asked of my workshop participants over the years. I’m especially excited about a concept for creating semi-transparent hanging banners that involve a slow process of paper transfer, wax layering, and tracing with gold ink. I know that as I spend time away creating, that I need this kind of spiritual practice more than ever – to slow me down and tether me to inviting and tracing God’s stirring.

Whether it involves returning to a creative practice or simply pausing to marvel at the beauty of spring’s arrival, I invite you to do the same. May the glimmers of gold, however they find you, draw you to God’s presence this day and in the weeks to come.

**

PS – if you’re curious to see how my visual reflections turn out, I invite you to come visit my art exhibition at Hopkins Center for the Arts! The opening will be on Thursday, August 1, from 6:00 – 8:00 p.m., and I’d love to see you there. The show will also be available during gallery hours (Monday – Friday, 9:00 a.m. – 8:00 p.m.; Saturday, 9:00 a.m. – 5:00 p.m.; Sunday, 12:00 – 5:00 p.m.) from August 1 – September 7.

By Pastor John Hulden

 At our Minneapolis Area Synod Assembly this past weekend, the 500+ voting members elected a new bishop to begin serving in August. Good work y’all! We are church together.

Full disclosure, I’m writing this before our synod assembly. Most of our synod staff have Monday off, after a busy synod assembly week, and I didn’t want to write a blog on my bonus day off. 😊

“In my work with congregations in transition, the beginning and ending of the transition is not the same for everyone.”

As a synod staff, we’ve had May 2-4 on our calendars for a year. We also knew this assembly meant electing a new bishop. Besides ramping up, planning, and organizing all things for the assembly  –  in tandem with the Bishop Election Committee  –  we’ve been feeling the weight of the looming transition.

I suppose one could say we’ve now officially started the transition. But in my work with congregations in transition, the beginning and ending of the transition is not the same for everyone. In a congregation, often the church staff and a few lay leaders know in advance of a pastor’s retirement date, or that their pastor asked them to be a reference for their mobility papers as they make plans to leave town for an interview.

FOR THE LAST ten plus years, I’ve been blessed to work with experts in transitions. Interim pastors in our synod bring leadership to a congregation during that in-between time of a pastoral transition. The second Thursday of most every month, I meet with the interim pastors for prayer, for learning, and for connecting. Those two hours a month have been enriching for me, and that sentiment is echoed by the interims who show up.

When we get together, we look at church work through the lens of transition. When an interim pastor begins their ministry at a congregation after the previous pastor has moved on, the work often centers on the five developmental tasks of interim ministry.

• Coming to terms with history
• Discovering a new identity
• Shifts of power and leadership change
• Rethinking the linkage to the larger church
• Commitment to new leadership and new future

Hanging out with the interim pastors has reminded me that these tasks could also apply to the change in our synod leadership.

“Interim pastors in our synod bring leadership to a congregation during that in-between time of a pastoral transition.”

As I look at those five developmental tasks, some of this transition work has already begun in the months leading up to our assembly. The history and identity of our synod have been addressed in listening sessions, conference assemblies to nominate potential candidates, and candidate forums. The brave and passionate pastors who stepped up to be in the election process have already helped us envision leadership change and how best to connect with the larger church. Now it is our job to support our new bishop-elect as this transition continues.

Take a moment and say a prayer for our next bishop, as well as for all the congregations in leadership transition. The synod staff can plan an assembly and walk along with congregational leadership, but all of us in our 130-plus congregations are “the synod.” May God bless us and guide us as enter a new chapter doing our church-together work.

By Bob Hulteen

Whew. I just got news that the American Sign Language (ASL) interpretation of the resolutions under consideration at Synod Assembly this weekend will arrive in time (barely) to publish them on the website today. The posted two-minute video recordings of each current bishop nominee are already interpreted in ASL and Spanish for our congregations where those are the primary languages.

Unfortunately, we had trouble with our Spanish interpretation of the budget hearing last week. The interpreters weren’t able to use the Zoom interpretation link, allowing for simultaneous interpretation. Our technology failed us, limiting the participation a bit for everyone.

On Sunday, as I was putting away some of Holy Trinity’s worship materials, I had a chance to visit with Pastor Andrea Mwalilino. He was setting up for the worship of Minnesota Swahili Christian Congregation, another one of the parishes of our synod, and we had a short conversation about the anticipation leading up to  Synod Assembly, and specifically the election of the next bishop.

“The Pentecost experience of Acts is a parallel story, a reminder of the post-flood Genesis reality.”

More and more, the Synod Assembly could be a time that prepares us for the celebration of Pentecost that comes in three weeks. Languages – the best-known theme in the first two chapters of Acts – are keys to accessibility in the U.S. right now, just as they were when Jesus’ disciples were discerning the way to be The Way.

BIBLICAL SCHOLAR Ched Myers, while known for his teaching on the Gospel of Mark and his book “Binding the Strong Man,” has done significant study of both Genesis and Acts. Not surprisingly, one of his key observations is about language and the nature of empire.

In Genesis 10:32 we read: “These are the clans of Noah’s sons, according to their lines of descent. … From these, the nations spread out over the earth after the flood.” And, immediately, in Genesis 11:1, “Now the whole world was one language and a common speech.” As Myers points out, “one language” becomes a means of centralization and consolidation of power and oppression. As poet and theologian Rose Marie Berger says it, “Monolingualism is one of the tools of oppression. The more coherent the society is, the easier it is to control.”

It is the Tower of Babel story that follows. The “one language” was a hallmark of the Babylonian centralization of power and control over peoples of the region, including the Hebrews. God frustrates that oppressive trajectory through the “confusion of languages.” Diversity becomes God’s “divine no” to oppression.

The Pentecost experience of Acts, Myers believes, is a parallel story, a reminder of the post-flood Genesis reality. These disciples were from a variety of countries, but were confronted by the domination of the Roman Empire and the lingua franca – the assumed dominant language – of Greek.

“God frustrates that oppressive trajectory through the “confusion of languages.’”

But, with a whirling  wind, a rush pneuma, each disciple spoke in “other languages.” Power is immediately  re-ordered to the value the gifts of local language over the centralized control of monolingualism..

The Holy Spirit is a great equalizer. In windy gusts she rushes over us, freeing us from the control of dominating forces. We are free to be a community – a diverse one.

As we come together as church in assembly this  week, we witness to this community. With ASL interpreters standing beside the speakers and Spanish interpreters speaking through headphones, may we experience the power of liberation that the Holy Spirit offers. May we feel the sense of community released from barriers so that we can be the siblings we were created to be.

By Nicholas Tangen

Last week, as the temperature climbed into the 50s and the sun shone down across Northeast Minneapolis, a familiar thing happened. Neighbors up and down Pierce Street began poking their heads out their front doors, opening windows, and making their way outside to soak up the first fruits of the spring air.

My wife and I were among this collection of Nordeasters stirring from our winter hibernation and the warmth of our old home. We waved at neighbors we hadn’t seen in months, being sure to mention how beautiful the weather was. We walked our dogs along sidewalks now full of others doing the same, greeting dogs we knew and puppies born and adopted over the winter. And we talked to our neighbors about the big plans we have for the yard this year, … and how we were committed to actually getting it done this time.  

“The first taste of warmth in the air draws everyone out of their home, pouring hopeful and grateful energy into the neighborhood.”

This annual emergence is one of my favorite things about living in Minnesota. Temperate weather is at a premium in this state, and that first taste of warmth in the air draws everyone out of their home, pouring hopeful and grateful energy into the neighborhood. We have the chance to walk, to sit outside and enjoy our little patches of grass and garden, and to run into the folks we live closest too. Spring signals the start of a season where we can be more fully present in the community as neighbors.  

FOR THE CONGREGATIONS in the Faith Practices & Neighboring Practices learning community, spring also signals the launch of their Neighborhood Listening Projects – three months of intentional listening in the community where their congregations are rooted. Many churches will show up at community events, festivals, neighborhood association meetings, and more to participate in the life of the community and pay attention for gifts, strengths, and assets already at work in the neighborhood. Others will host block parties, house meetings, community meals, and welcome events, creating space for fellowship, conversation, and relationship building in church parking lots and courtyards.  

Every one of the Faith Practices & Neighboring Practices churches is also invited to walk around their neighborhood at least once a month. In many churches it is often true that the only time our neighbors see us is when we walk from church to car, a journey of a few feet that sends a message about how we value the community. But as the air warms, as the sun comes out, and as neighbors begin to emerge from their homes, there is an opportunity for each of us to encounter someone we don’t know and make a connection.  

“Every one of the Faith Practices & Neighboring Practices churches is also invited to walk around their neighborhood at least once a month.”

I often say that if I could get congregations to do only two things, they would be: 1) a meaningful and consistent practice of one-to-one conversations, and 2) a regular practice of walking the neighborhood. My own congregation, Gustavus Adolphus Lutheran Church, organizes walks during the spring and summer to connect with one another, learn about the neighborhood, and support local businesses. (We always end our walk at Parkway Pizza where we get Sebastian Joe’s ice cream.)  

These walks, and the brief organic connections we make with neighbors along the way, make a difference. Such experiences are part of what Keep Neighboring Edmonton (an initiative to build neighborhood relationships and capacities in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada) call “ambient neighboring.” The small, simple, and often organic practices that create a sense of familiarity between ourselves and the neighbors close by.  

FOR MY WIFE AND I, we find that these first few weeks of spring are often the most fruitful time to connect with neighbors that we may not know as well. Last week, we had the chance to meet a couple of new neighbors who moved into the house across the street, connecting about our pets and a shared love of Indian food. We were excited to make a new connection, and potentially get an invite for dinner – and we wouldn’t have made that connection if we hadn’t prioritized walking in the neighborhood.  

“Jesus walked everywhere he went.”

If you and your congregation are thinking about walking your neighborhood, here are a couple of suggestions: 

• Say a short prayer before your walk, asking that God would give you the awareness to see the Holy One at work in your community.
• Keep the group small. No one wants to be set upon by 30 Christians out of the blue on a beautiful day. 
• Walk different routes each time you gather. Make it a goal to see as much of the neighborhood as possible and pay attention to sites and landmarks that catch your attention. 
• Have a couple of questions ready to ask neighbors you run into on your walk. My favorite is “How long have you lived in the neighborhood?” If they say a long time, you can ask them how they have seen the neighborhood change over the years. If they say a short time, you can ask them what brought them to live in the neighborhood. Either way, you’ll learn something interesting.  

 Spring is an amazing time for churches and individuals to get outside and get to know their neighbors. Jesus walked everywhere he went, and often encountered unexpected moments of grace, healing, and joy in and through people along the way. What might you encounter on a walk in your own community?  

By Pastor Wondimu Sonessa

Life is sometimes like a pendulum. It swings back and forth between our past experiences and new encounters in our daily life. Once a force is exerted on it and sets the pendulum in motion, it continues to move back and forth with a constant time interval. Both friction and the pivot point of the pendulum contribute significantly to slow down the motion and eventually bring it back to stability.

But a Christian life is not exactly like a pendulum. To follow Jesus is not an easy decision to make even after hearing the voice that invites us. Of course, those of us who were born to a Christian family were instructed and raised in the church. We may remember our Sunday school teachers whose advice and exemplary life shaped our faith journey. But some of us were born and raised in the context of religious pluralism, where Christian faith and the church are the outcome of the gospel preached by missionaries.

In this blog, I reflect on the lasting influence of the first encounter with Jesus on Christian life.

WHETHER WE WERE born to Christian parents or converted to Christianity, we share a common estrangement characterizing humanity and the need for a heavenly voice that realigns our life with God. What makes our testimonies so inspiring is not how young or old we were when we became Christians. It is instead that we became who we are as Christians only because of the first encounter with Jesus through the proclamation of the Word and the Sacrament of Baptism.

“Whether we were born to Christian parents or converted to Christianity, we share a common estrangement.”

Let me illustrate this with a brief reflection on the Apostle Paul’s testimony regarding the difference between his pre-conversion life and new life in Christ (Acts 22:1-22). Paul maintains to narrate the experience of his conversion in which he portrays his encounter with Jesus Christ as a “great light” shining upon him and the voice from heaven speaking to him.

Consequently, Paul didn‘t just fall to the ground, but he also lost his sight. When he realized that it was Jesus of Nazareth who was speaking to him, he confessed that Jesus is “Lord” and agreed to go as directed and do everything that has been assigned to him. In his missionary endeavor Paul describes what happened to him as “knowing Christ” – the knowledge that helped him to regard his former gains as “rubbish” and loss (Philemon 3:7-10). This is the lasting impact of his first encounter with Jesus.

A GENUINE CONVERSION experience involves letting go of human perspective that doesn’t align with God’s will and receiving divine power to confess the lordship of Jesus. The common confession of faith in Christ makes us siblings who address each other as brothers and sister. Conversion is, therefore, a concrete spiritual experience in which the persecutors and victims receive new insight that enables them to trust and embrace each other as a beloved community. And that first encounter not only marks the starting point of our faith journey, but also has the lasting power to enable us to be the followers and witnesses of Christ in all circumstances.

Because of the lasting influence of the first encounter and the sanctifying companionship of the Holy Spirit, the Christian life of discipleship cannot swing back to its old practices. It rather counts them as “rubbish” and loss.

This doesn’t mean that our old life is completely deleted from our memory. We may look back and speak of our conversion experiences which, in most cases, involve contrasting the new life of faith with the old pre-conversion life. We always remember how desperate life without Jesus was and give thanks for the grace and mercy with which God has accepted us.

“A genuine conversion experience involves letting go of human perspective that doesn’t align with God’s will.”

There are also times when we feel guilty about the way we thought, acted, and treated people hurtfully. Paul himself struggled with guilty conscience stemming from his pre-conversion life and practice of persecuting believers in Jesus, including taking part in the killing of Stephen. Fortunately, neither the old Paul nor his experience was crucial to the work ahead of him. Paul’s encounter with Christ has changed him but the religious system he was committed to serve continued to persecute the followers of Christ.

What matters greatly is that Paul parted with his privileged social status. Because of knowing Christ, who commanded him saying, “Go, for I will send you far away to the Gentiles” (Acts 22:21), he became a target of the ongoing persecution. The proclamation of the Word to the Gentiles requires a new person with a clear conscience before God. The newness that sets our conscience free from the past is the fruit of that first justifying encounter with Christ.

The new life of faith is neither our old self nor an enhanced version of it, but it is Christ himself living in us and constantly sending us to the marginalized, the oppressed, and disadvantaged in society. We trust in the lasting company of the Holy Spirit in all this.

By Pastor Craig Pederson

Peter began to speak to [the people]: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. …  All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”
— Acts 10: 34-35, 43

The granular, expansive, inclusive nature of Resurrection amazes me the older I get.

The granularity comes when I consider how every individual, beloved child of God experiences Resurrection in their own unique time, circumstance, and setting. The expansiveness comes as I ponder how Resurrection has been received and celebrated by God’s people, God’s creatures, and God’s creation for over two millennia. The inclusivity strikes me when I witness the incredible variety of faith communities that gather on Easter morning to proclaim the good news that out of death comes new life.

“Every individual, beloved child of God experiences Resurrection in their own unique time, circumstance, and setting.”

The gift of travel reminds us of the diversity of God’s people, creatures, and creation. My wife Lisa, our daughter Nora, and I returned last week from a spring break trip to the desert Southwest – a destination where we had not traveled before. We spent three days in Phoenix, then another four days in the Palms Springs, California area.

Desert Botanical Garden, Phoenix

While there, we had a kind of early Resurrection experience: It rained in both places! Fortunately for us, it was only one day in each location (but not fortunate for those areas thirsty for precipitation).

Rain, like Resurrection, shows no partiality.

AFTER THE RAIN, the desert produces some of the most amazing scents and scenes imaginable. Plants and flowers seemed to pulsate as they absorbed moisture from the air and land. Cacti puffed up to drink in the water and store it until the next rainfall. Soil that lay dry for weeks smelled both sweet and stinky at the same time, as if confused about what to do with this unscheduled blessing.

Snow-laden tree in Northeast Minneapolis

That short stint of rain kicked God’s people into gear as well. Work crews speedily covered construction areas that were not designed to deal with rain, then just as speedily uncovered them to allow the sun to help dry things out. Roofers, gardeners, and landscapers received a short break, then accelerated their pace to make up for lost time and to respond to the spurt of growth produced by this liquid infusion.

They were working hard. I hope they – like the creation they were tending – experienced Resurrectin this Easter.

“We returned home just in time to be greeted by another precipitation event: Eight inches of heavy snow with a two-inch rain chaser.”

SpaceX satellite launch over the San Jacinto Mountains

We returned home just in time to be greeted by another precipitation event: Eight inches of heavy snow with a two-inch rain chaser. It was a harsh transition for our spring break-spoiled selves, but those were inches of new life for a moisture-starved landscape.

From the immediacy and intimacy of our personal lives to the cosmic expanse of time, Creation longs for Resurrection. Thanks be to God that Christ is Risen! He is Risen indeed! Alleluia!

By Pastor John Hulden

I got out voted. Again.

First it was a golden retriever named Addey. All four of our kids, along with my wife Becky, used democracy to their advantage for a dog to enter our family home. It was fine. She was “a good dog” and very laid back. Then, after Addey died, not too long after, another family vote didn’t go my way. This time it was not for one dog, but two! We added two rambunctious black labs: Thunder and Lightning.

Addey with Jens in Moorhead

“I suppose I’m not a pet guy because I never had dogs or cats growing up.”

Okay, I have a confession about pets and me. Some of my loved ones accuse me of being deficient in some way, or uncaring, because I’m just not a pet guy. As is borne out by early voting trends, the rest of my family likes pets. Our two oldest adult kids each have a dog. Our two youngest adult kids have cats.

I suppose I’m not a pet guy because I never had dogs or cats growing up. I had a goldfish, once – brought home in a little plastic bag of water – but that was short lived, literally. I also, yes, had a little turtle. But again, that was short lived – and stinky. Once my turtle escaped, somehow, and my mom found it climbing out of her purse in the checkout line at the grocery store. Or maybe my seven-year-old imagination dreamed that it happened that way. There are not many heart-warming pet stories for me growing up.

IT WAS THE SPRING when the two new black labs came to our house, and Thunder and Lightning hit the ground running and running and running. Our back yard was instantly muddy – thanks to those pups’ huge paws that wrecked all the lawn that was trying to come back after a long Moorhead winter.

Under the guise of “it would be good for Thunder and Lightning,” we constructed a dog park in a big section of our backyard. We added many tons of pea gravel, climbing platforms made from throw away lumber from Menards, a picket fence, and a dog run to the garage into a kennel. Of course, my family knew this project was to appease me. At least a small section of backyard would have green grass and be free of Thunder and Lightning strikes, … that is, poop.

“On a Good Friday afternoon – between worship services – I grabbed a bucket and the pooper scooper and went to work.”

Lightning in the dog park

Usually by Holy Week, the snow in the back yard would be melting (unlike this past week when winter snows arrived after weeks of spring weather). You can guess what was revealed in our backyard dog park after a very long winter. The aptly named pea gravel was full of poop.

On a Good Friday afternoon – between worship services – I grabbed a bucket and the pooper scooper and went to work. For some reason once I started, I wasn’t the bitter dad who grumped about doing something my kids should have been doing.  And that really surprised me. It felt good to do something solitary, helpful, and earthy on a Good Friday afternoon. Every subsequent Good Friday I’d go out with my bucket to take care of the Thunder and Lightning strikes.

Why do I tell you this? I’m not entirely sure, but I’ll leave you with this:

May your Holy Week be full of stories, images, memories, emotions, prayers, music, meaning, quiet, community, and helpful preparations, … as we all come together at the end of this holiest of weeks to hear the best sacrificial and surprising love story ever lived or told.