Bishop’s Blogs

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

Epiphany 2021 is forever marked as the day our Capitol was breached by an angry and violent mob; the day our country was betrayed by threats to human life and the institutions of democracy.

No one could close their eyes to the horror. And, from Majority Leader Mitch McConnell to Speaker Nancy Pelosi, leaders across the political spectrum spoke to condemn what they saw.

But not just our national leaders were riveted by the day’s events. The whole global family watched. Indeed, Archbishop Musa Filibus from our companion synod in Nigeria called me within the first hour of the riot, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Epiphany 2021. Actually, the word epiphany means revelation or manifestation. We will likely never forget what was revealed to us last Wednesday.

OH, MOSTLY WE ASSUME that epiphanies are good: the magi recognizing Jesus as the Messiah, the disciples recognizing the risen Christ on the road to Emmaus.

But, scripture also describes epiphanies that are not so positive – moments when God opens our eyes to personal sin or corporate evil. And God’s judgment often follows such epiphanies. Before the fall of Israel, the word of God was heard: “I know how many are your transgressions, and how great are your sins— you who afflict the righteous, who take a bribe, and push aside the needy in the gate.” (Amos 5:12)

“No one could close their eyes to the horror.”

God knows. God sees. A veil has been lifted. (Make that many veils.) On Epiphany 2021, we saw clearly that:

• Angry rhetoric from leaders can lead to violence, injury, and death
• Christian symbols can be used to support idolatrous Christian nationalism
• Racial bias in law enforcement is real – evidenced by how Black Lives Matter protesters were treated much more aggressively than those in Wednesday’s mob
• Only since 1965 have we been multi-racial democracy; our work in dismantling white supremacy is far from over

Perhaps, the most redemptive epiphany I saw was when adversaries across partisan lines stood together in shared horror and denunciation. Could it be that something was finally broken open on Wednesday? Something revealed to compel us all – on every side of the aisle – to take seriously the current reality we face? Is there a chance we can now turn that shared horror and condemnation into a shared commitment to do something?

“Truth-telling is not the final act.”

Whether it be repentance or reformation, the work begins with honesty. Prophets like Amos spoke hard truths. “Here is sin. Here is brokenness.”

It begins with honesty. But it doesn’t end there.

Truth-telling is not the final act. In the words of Walter Brueggemann:
The church has two principal tasks in our time, I propose:
   – to practice grief in the face of denial by truth-telling;
   – to practice hope in the face of despair by promise-telling.

As people of the cross and resurrection, we have hope in the power of God to bring life even in the midst of death. We have hope in “the God who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist” (Romans 4:17) and “is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20). Our hope is based in God’s resolve to gather all heaven and earth together in one community of justice, peace, and love.

We resist denial; we refuse despair. And together – for it’s only together – we live out the “hope that is in us,” following Jesus in a life of discipleship.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

“Where have you experienced God’s sustaining presence in the past year? In what new or surprising way has God been revealed?”

This was the question asked by a good friend in a monthly Zoom conversation I share with other female church leaders. (Yes, it’s a peer group!). The answers were beautifully varied:

• I’ve sensed God at work in the spiritual direction group I joined with Lutherans and Catholics.
• I am finding a renewed sense of call during retirement, having recently been asked to serve in a way that requires my particular expertise.
• I have heard my adult children share their concerns and protectiveness about my health, and it has felt like a fresh experience of unconditional love.

Where have you experienced God’s sustaining presence in the past year?

2020 WILL BE REMEMBERED for our shared experience as a global family – watching a novel coronavirus spread throughout the world. At the same time, our individual experience of 2020 is as unique as we are.

Some people used every dollar of their stimulus check to feed their children. Others, whose paychecks remained stable, gave it all away. Some watched their businesses shrink and finally closed their doors. Others watched their portfolio grow, especially in proportion to their investments in technology. Some watched on FaceTime as a loved one died. Others tested positive for COVID-19 without experiencing a symptom.

“A simple conversation can be one of the most profound ways we experience God’s sustaining presence.”

As you reflect on 2020, I encourage you also to ask this question: Where have I experienced God’s sustaining presence in the past year?

Oh, this is not always an easy question to answer. And, some years, it will be much harder than in other years. I remember times when my prayer was closer to “O God, why are you silent? I cannot hear your voice.” (ELW 703).  If that is your cry today, I encourage to reach out to your pastor or a friend in faith. A simple conversation can be one of the most profound ways we experience God’s sustaining presence.

Christmas proclaims God Incarnate who – deep in the flesh – experiences human life in all its wonder, in all its heartache. God is not removed from our unique, individual journeys. God is present.

This is God’s promise in 2021 – and always.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

Last night, I realized my husband has a special calling – preparing warm campfires so our family can gather outdoors during the pandemic. I had no idea Bill had this gift.

What special new calling have you discovered for yourself during the pandemic? I wish I could say that mine is videography – but I’ve found that sermons now take more time to record and download than to prepare. (Where’s that good light? What happened to the box used to raise the computer camera? Why did my computer shut down when the MP4 was only half loaded? Do I have to start all over … again?)

“It’s a true Advent moment – celebrating the fulfillment of a hope held for so long.”

I imagine Mary was beyond surprised when the angel Gabriel appeared announcing a new call in her life. We refer to this event as the Annunciation, but I think it’s really a Call Story. When you look closely at Luke 1, you see how it follows the pattern of Biblical call narratives – like that of Moses and Isaiah. The pattern includes a greeting (1:28), a startled reaction (1:29), an exhortation not to fear (1:30), a divine commission (1:31-33), an objection (1:34), a reassurance (1:35), and the offer of a confirming sign (1:36-37).

Read Luke 1 next to Exodus 3 and you will note the similarities with the call of Moses. (See Mark Allan Powell, Working Preacher, December 21, 2014.)

DECEMBER 20, 2020, MARKS the 50^th anniversary of the ordination of Barbara Andrews, the first woman in the American Lutheran Church (ALC) to be ordained. She was called to serve Edina Community Lutheran Church, a congregation in our synod. December 20 of this year is also the Sunday when we hear Mary’s Call Story.

What a wonderful way to celebrate the church’s vote – affirming that “yes” women who have experienced the Spirit’s call – like Mary or Moses – and may indeed be allowed to serve the church as ordained pastors. It’s a true Advent moment – celebrating the fulfillment of a hope held for so long; a hope held through multiple church debates and discussions. In the ALC, even the vote was tight: 560 to 414 (57%). But the church decided. And so much has changed.

“Like people living through a pandemic, Mary saw changes in her calling throughout her life.”

Oh, like people living through a pandemic, Mary saw changes in her calling throughout her life. Simeon soon announced that her call would include the “piercing of her soul.” There are new chapters for all of us as we follow God’s calling in our lives, especially during the uncertainties of a global pandemic. So, we take time to listen to the Spirit – and to the prophets of today like Simeon and Anna. We look to the witness of saints like Mary and Moses, as well as Barbara Andrews, for courage and faith.

And through it all, through all the chapters of our lives, we can trust in the abiding presence of God, Emmanuel, with us always.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

What does “discipleship in a democracy” look like after the 2020 election? (Among the many gems in our ELCA Social Message on government is the phrase “discipleship in a democracy” used in the title.)

“Listen more than speak.”

So much can be said about our callings as Christians in this moment – more than a weekly blog can name. I’d like to highlight two practices:

• Give thanks for democracy: Whatever your feelings about the election results, give thanks that more than 160 million people voted. That’s a record number of votes in any year – even more remarkable since it occurred during a global pandemic.
• Commit to rebuilding the fabric of democracy: We need each other. We need a diversity of opinions, life-experiences, strategies, and perspectives. Welcoming diversity is key – as foundational as Paul’s affirmation that “there are many members, yet one body,” and “the eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you.’” It describes the genius of Lincoln in choosing a “team of rivals” as his cabinet. It resounds through the best team-building tools, one of which states that the “absence of conflict” is a sign of disfunction.

Yes, we are committed to justice and the dignity of every human life. Discipleship in a democracy means we strive tirelessly for those ends. But, we also care deeply about the means. Mending the fabric of our democracy is a complex process, but it includes some simple things:

• Ask yourself how many conversation partners you have who are part of the 70-plus million who cast votes different from yours. Commit yourself to finding more.
• Listen more than speak.
• Start with curiosity. “I’m not sure I understand your point of view, please tell me more.”
• Find topics of agreement and commonality and build on those.
• Rigorously avoid insults and shaming; speak up when you see it happening.
• Find partners in your congregation who will join with you in this work.

SOME HAVE CALLED the task of Christian discipleship after the 2020 election as one of peacemaking. Though I hadn’t thought of it as peacemaking before, I guess our work to stop dehumanization in politics, to foster renewed relationships across difference of opinion, and to find ways forward toward the common good is a pretty essential kind of peacemaking.

“Discipleship in a democracy means we strive tirelessly for those ends. But, we also care deeply about the means.”

As Lincoln wrote in another time of great polarization: “Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. … The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise with the occasion.”

God give us faith, love, wisdom, and courage for days we face – together.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

Where do you find hope? In the polarization leading up to the election, what hope sustains you?

I shouldn’t be surprised that I find hope in the writings of Marilynne Robinson. The honest hope in her books, Gilead and Lila and, perhaps, her latest book, Jack (though I’m still 115 on the library waiting list to check it out), have long been a source of sustenance for me.

In looking for hope as I prepare for the November 3 election, I keep returning to Robinson’s October 9 editorial in the New York Times: “Don’t Give Up on America.”

“What do you do when you love something that’s in crisis? Well, you don’t give up on it.”

She begins by declaring her love for America: “I have spent most of my life studying American history and literature because of a deep if sometimes difficult affinity I would call love.”

Her love rests firmly on our country’s affirmation from the beginning that all people are created equal. For Robinson, “The ethic that ‘human beings are sacred, therefore equal,’ should be the standard by which we judge ourselves, our social arrangements, our dealings with the vast family of humankind.”

That said, the ethic “will always find us wanting. [It] is a progressive force, constantly and necessarily exposing our failures and showing us new paths forward.”

AS WE LOOK TOWARD November 3, we may have an even deeper sense of being “found wanting.” Conspiracy theories about election fraud and suspicions about voting legitimacy challenge the very core of democracy.

As Robinson laments, “If the one civic exercise (the electoral process) that gives legitimacy to our government defaults, we will … have to find [a] word other than ‘democracy’ to describe whatever we will have become.”

So, what do you do when you love something that’s in crisis? Well, you don’t give up on it. You double down, bring all that you have to the effort, all hands on deck. What might that look like in your life?

“Marilynne Robinson’s love for America rests firmly on our country’s affirmation from the beginning that all people are created equal.”

“This country was, from the outset, a tremendous leap of faith,” writes Robinson. “Our history to the present day is proof that people find justice hard to reach and sustain.”

Still, she concludes, “There is much to be done, more than inevitably limited people can see at a given moment. But the other side of our limitation is the fact that it carries with it a promise that we still might see a new birth of freedom, and another one beyond that. Democracy is the great instrument of human advancement. We have no right to fail it.”

So we vote. And, as leaders of communities, we encourage others to vote. We do it out of love – for our country and for our neighbor – and because we follow Jesus, seeking the welfare of all.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

In the past seven months, what special event(s) have you missed because of COVID-19? In the synod, five new pastors were ordained recently – in worship services completely different from what they had anticipated. Some were outside, all were physically distanced, and all had smaller crowds. I’ve led installations that were recorded for showing later on Facebook and sent digital 100^th anniversary greetings.

“We stand on the shoulders of all who worked to reform our church leading up to the historic votes in 1970.”

My grandson Noah’s baptism has been delayed several months and will now happen outside on Saturday. Still, I haven’t had to postpone a family wedding or conduct the funeral of loved one with just ten people gathered around a grave. There is real grief flowing from the loss of such gatherings.

And, we pray for one another as we grieve the large and small losses the pandemic brings to our lives.

I AM BOTH grieving, as well as feeling guilty about, how COVID-19 has interrupted our plans to celebrate the 50^th anniversary of our church’s decision to ordain women. We stand on the shoulders of all who worked to reform our church leading up to the historic votes in 1970. We are grateful for pioneers like Elizabeth Platz and Barbara Andrews, the first women ordained in the Lutheran Church in America (LCA) and the American Lutheran Church (ALC); for the persistence of pioneers like Earleen Miller, the first woman of color ordained, albeit ten years after the historic vote; and for all our LGBTQ siblings who waited for 40 more years.

Our first celebration was scheduled for March 26, just a few weeks after COVID-19 was declared a global pandemic. The synod didn’t even have a Zoom account yet.

“Fifty years ago, our church had the courage to reorder its understanding of ordination – breaking open a door that had been closed for millennia.”

Our second celebration was scheduled for April 24. We had planned a festive worship service with Bishop April Larson preaching, and a celebratory wine-and-cheese reception afterwards. These events would have opened the 2020 Synod Assembly.

Each of these gatherings were cancelled.

NOW, THE ROSTERED leaders of the Minneapolis Area Synod plan to celebrate this historic anniversary of women’s ordination at our Joint Ministerium with the rostered leaders of Saint Paul Area Synod on Thursday, October 29.  Although we will host it using Zoom, we will try our hardest to bring “recognition, celebration, and joy!” At the center of the morning will be a panel of pastors – Babette Chatman, Liz Eide, Marlene Helgemo, Jen Nagel, and Megan Torgerson. We will show video clips of the historic vote, sing songs of the journey, tells stories of innovation and resilience, and share hopes for the next fifty years.

“Jubilee Reclaimed: The Time is Now” is our synod focus for this year. Like the radical reordering of life described in Scripture’s description of the Jubilee Year; this year has challenged us to reconsider and reorder our relationships:

• The COVID-19 pandemic is challenging us to reconsider our relationship to God’s creation.
• The murder of George Floyd and the global cries for justice challenge us to reconsider our relationships with each other.
• The recession and the disparities in healthcare cause us to reconsider our relationship in the global economy.

Fifty years ago, our church had the courage to reorder its understanding of ordination – breaking open a door that had been closed for millennia. We had the courage to make a way so that women – half of our church’s population – could be become pastors.

This year, we celebrate the Jubilee Anniversary of our church’s decision to ordain women. May it bring us courage, wisdom, and resilience as we reclaim God’s Jubilee for all God’s beloved relationships.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

Should I vote by mail? Should I vote before November 3 at Early Vote Center?

If I vote on election day, will I risk getting COVID-19?

When can I expect the election results?

The questions surrounding November 3 seem to grow more complicated by the day. Christian Century notes that at least 500 international observers are planning to watch over the complexities surrounding America’s 2020 election. After years of monitoring other nation’s elections, this is an interesting reversal of roles.

“The questions surrounding November 3 seem to grow more complicated by the day.”

Yes, the questions abound. But, not the most basic question. Why vote? For the baptized people of God, voting is part of discipleship. Voting is a way we love our neighbor. Theologian Cynthia Moe-Lobeda notes that neighbor-love is the norm for followers of Jesus and it bears certain characteristics, including:

1. Neighbor-love serves the well-being of those who are loved.
2. Neighbor-love pertains to whomever my life touches directly or through social or ecological systems.
3. Neighbor-love seeks justice.
4. Neighbor-love is political.

LAST JUNE, the ELCA church council unanimously approved Government and Civic Engagement in the United States: Discipleship in a Democracy, providing more detailed characteristics of neighbor-love in the public square. The statement, proudly prompted by a 2019 memorial from the Minneapolis Area Synod, might be good devotional reading in these weeks before your November 3 decisions are made. Two brief quotes:

The ELCA holds to the biblical idea that God calls God’s people to be active citizens and to ensure that everyone benefits from the good of government (Jeremiah 29:7, Romans 13:1-7).

This church also strongly affirms voting, guided by faith-based values, as an exercise in citizenship. (Emphases in bold were added by me.)

“Neighbor-love pertains to whomever my life touches directly or through social or ecological systems.”

If you’d like even more background on what the ELCA recognizes as “faith-based values,” you can turn to the ELCA’s 28 social statements and messages. To my mind, these are remarkable gems our church offers all who seek guidance from Scripture and Lutheran theology for what neighbor-love means in today’s world.

However, if 28 social statements seem daunting, another option would be to register to watch a webinar this Thursday evening titled the Before We Vote Virtual Summit. The event is sponsored by the ELCA African Descent Strategy Team (ADST), the African Descent Ministries (ADM) desk, and the ELCA’s Advocacy office.

Finally, I invite us to devote ourselves to consistent prayerfulness in the weeks before and after the 2020 election. These are difficult days. And, we pray for God’s transformative power at work in the world so that all creation might flourish.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

If you google “images for Jubilee,” you get balloons and party hats, streamers and fireworks. Jubilee means party!

Scripture describes something more nuanced. Depending on where you sit, Jubilee can feel like good news or bad news, liberation or loss. It’s a radical reordering of things.

Scripture’s Jubilee includes forgiving of debts, restoration of land, and liberation for the oppressed and imprisoned. You might not be so happy if you were the one required to relinquish your land or forfeit the repayment you expected.

As far as I know, Jesus spoke only once about Jubilee, calling it “the year of the Lord’s favor.” But, what a statement he makes. Jesus quotes from the scroll of Isaiah:

            The Spirit is upon me to preach good news to the poor…
                    To set at liberty those who are oppressed.
                  To proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

What is more, Jesus says, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Those gathered in Nazareth weren’t sure if Jesus’ message was good news or bad. It might topple the status quo, which might mean a loss for them. Eventually, they run Jesus out of town, attempting to throw him off a cliff.

Though Jesus escaped, those in charge of the status quo eventually found a way to silence this Jubilee proclaimer – using a cross not a cliff.

BUT, THE JUBILEE PROCLAMATION doesn’t end on the cross. In Jesus’ resurrection from the dead, God ushers in a renewed Jubilee that extends to all – as far as the ends of the earth. This Jubilee is captured in the closing words of Luke’s Gospel. “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.”

The Jubilee of the resurrection is forgiveness of sin – liberation from the bondage of unrighteousness. It’s the Jubilee of Justification; a setting free through the repentance and forgiveness.

“Scripture’s Jubilee includes forgiving of debts, restoration of land, and liberation for the oppressed and imprisoned.”

Oh, that doesn’t mean the jubilee in Isaiah is replaced by the jubilee of justification. On the contrary! It is part of one beautifully woven history of salvation. At the end of Luke, Jesus confirms that, “everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled (which includes Isaiah’s Jubilee).”

The church is part of that fulfillment. You and I are partners with the God of Jubilee. We’ve been justified by grace through Christ’s death and resurrection. Secure in that identity, we live and proclaim Jubilee to the ends of the earth – forgiveness of sin, good news to the poor, release to the captives, and liberty for the oppressed.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

I have yet to meet a person who doesn’t want to reform our country’s immigration system. The question is how.

In thinking about Lutheran teaching on immigration, I can almost hear Martin Luther use the ancient catechetical method of question and answer: What does this mean? What does just and compassionate immigration policy look like?

When Luther asks what the commandment “You shall not kill” means, he writes, “We are to fear and love God so that we do not harm or endanger our neighbor in any way, but help and support them in all of life’s needs.” What would he say about just and compassionate immigration? What does this mean?

“We are two months from Election Day on Tuesday, November 3.”

Through its social messages, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America provides the following answer:

• Regard each person with dignity, as a beloved creature of God.
• Make sure your country does its fair share in our global responsibility to welcome the stranger.
• As you welcome others, do not discriminate on the basis of race or religion.
• Pay special attention to children and reuniting families.
• As you enforce policies, regard each person with dignity, as a beloved creature of God.

 

WE ARE TWO months from Election Day on Tuesday, November 3. Voting is a form of advocacy; a way to influence policy around issues such as immigration reform.

The International Rescue Committee suggests a couple questions to ask candidates running for public office:

1. Do you support the rebuilding of the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program and a commitment to welcoming at least 95,000 refugees annually?
2. Do you support upholding asylum protections in accordance with domestic and international law and public health guidance, and to refocus U.S. efforts to support Central American countries to reduce the violence that is driving people from their homes, to respond to their needs, and to eventually make life safe and livable in northern Central America?

“As you enforce policies, regard each person with dignity, as a beloved creature of God.”

In addition to asking candidates about immigration, let’s also ask ourselves: Are we praying for refugees and our elected leaders? Are we working within our congregations to grow as places of welcome and compassion? Hopefully, we can all join together in saying yes.

By Bishop Ann Svennungsen

Are you still washing all your groceries before putting them away? Do you still set your mail aside a few days before you open it?

It’s been more than five months since COVID-19 was declared a Global Pandemic. And, still, the ground keeps shifting. The rules keep changing. Wear masks? Stand 6 feet apart; 7 feet; 10 feet?

As much as I feel anxiety about the virus itself, I also feel anxious about the unknowns. I want so much to do what’s right, to take every precaution – even as “what’s right” seems to always be changing.

“The decaying manna affects everyone: those who watch it rot after taking too much and those who go without. Greed has amazing power to destroy community.” 

Indeed, I sometimes wonder if the wilderness grumbling of the Israelites was as much about coping with unknowns as it was about physical hardships. Yes, food was scarce; so was water. But, it was also hard to wander year after year without a clue about what was ahead.

IT WAS THEN THAT God opened the “wilderness school” (per Dan Erlander). In particular, the object lesson of the manna provides wisdom for living in times of uncertainty – whether it’s the wilderness or a global pandemic.

The lessons of the manna are plentiful:

• Our daily bread comes from God’s hand.
• God provides enough for all, if it’s shared.
• Work is integral to life (God didn’t just set a jar of manna outside each tent; the people gathered it daily).
• Work isn’t just about gathering. It’s about distributing; equitably distributing God’s gifts to all.
• Hoarding is bad for everyone. It takes food from those who need it; it rots in the hands of those who squirrel it away.

The lessons also speak to us in today’s COVID wilderness.

In times of uncertainty, we live by faith in the God who provides daily bread. Every night, the Israelites went to bed with “nothing in the pantry.” They fell asleep trusting, that, when they awoke, God would provide the bread of life. And God was faithful.

“The object lesson of the manna provides wisdom for living in times of uncertainty – whether it’s the wilderness or a global pandemic.”

We live day by day in this pandemic, trusting in God’s provision. Indeed, anxiety about the future can suffocate us into missing the present. The manna story calls us to lean into this day – this moment. To be present.

But the manna story also calls us to be honest about greed and inequity. Specifically, how does hoarding spoil the community God intends? The decaying manna affects everyone: those who watch it rot after taking too much and those who go without. Greed has amazing power to destroy community.

The COVID pandemic has freshly revealed the effects of greed in our day; national and global inequities around healthcare, job security, housing, and the environment. Maybe our COVID wilderness will be a time for us to name the disparities, to envision a better way, and to work to curb greed and foster equity.

And, along with God’s gift of daily bread, we might recognize community as the greatest gift of all.