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This post is one of the monthly posts blog posts written by the deans of the conferences of the Minneapolis Area Synod.

By Pastor Lydia Svenulski
Gethsemane Lutheran Church, Hopkins
Dean of the Western Parks and Lakes Conference

Pastor Leila Ortiz at the Bishop’s Theological Conference

Over the last handful of weeks, I have spent much of my time pondering something Pastor Leila Ortiz said at the Bishop’s Fall Theological Conference. As she was presenting parts of her doctoral dissertation on ecclesial estuaries, she invited us to think of change and new things as “spiritual abundance rather than spiritual compromise.” This struck me as both beautiful and helpful not only for myself, but also for guiding a congregation and community into new phases of its own life.

For example, when a congregation is debating moving from two worship services to one, instead of thinking about what we would have to choose between: traditional or contemporary, early or late, more liturgy or less, we could think about what brings two things together: abundance. The merging of two separate entities into one creates a world of new possibilities and forces us all to see things anew. If given the opportunity, even new and different things can flourish. I am particularly drawn to the powerful presence and witness to God’s work that comes from what feels like death, but is instead, abundance.

Years ago, there was a congregation in St. Louis Park – Prince of Peace. Over the years, the congregation started declining in attendance and participation. Eventually, through prayer and discernment, the church decided to close its doors and disband. Members gravitated to other churches in the area, and eventually the church building itself was deconstructed. However, this decision came from spiritual abundance, not compromise. Because what now stands in place of the church building is a project funded by other local churches and nonprofits. Apartments and a childcare center located within the building stand where Prince of Peace once was. There was a need in the community for both affordable housing and childcare. Local leaders saw this need and approached different churches and organizations to help support its creation.

Even in its death, the church was still serving its community. By giving up the building and land, by choosing to trust in the God of resurrection and the truth that death is not the end, new life and abundance came forth. It’s not a church building anymore, and the congregation doesn’t exist as it once did, but resurrection still happened. Sometimes we get so caught up in the change or the death of something that we entirely miss that resurrection has already happened. We miss it because that resurrection looks nothing like what we expected or maybe hoped for, but it is resurrection nonetheless.

Vista Lutheran, St. Louis Park

There are always glimpses of new life and spiritual abundance around us – even in the midst of deconstruction and death. The small stained glass windows that were a part of Prince of Peace’s building are now housed at Vista Lutheran Church, also in St. Louis Park. Though they no longer serve as windows, they are housed in specially made light boxes and are scattered around Vista’s building. Elements of what was remain and are honored, and we carry those things with us into the future possibilities of where God is calling us to meet the needs of the world.

As we journey closer to All Saints’ Day, I want to encourage you to find something in your life that feels like compromise, death, or giving in, and instead look for the ways God is working in that change. Find the ways the God of resurrection is reminding you that God is not done yet, and that even if it looks different, abundance can be found in all things. Sometimes, if we’re open to it, God surprises us with a resurrection that looks different than anything we could have imagined.

By Pastor Craig Pederson

Last month brought to a close the seven-year experience of our daughter, Nora, playing AAU summer basketball. The past few summers had us traveling to destinations beyond the many weekend tournaments held in the Twin Cities: St. Cloud, Chicago, Indianapolis, and Ames, Iowa, among them. Nora’s final tournament was in Washington D.C., offering the opportunity to turn her basketball trip into a family vacation.

I had not been to Washington D.C. since I was a young adult. It was a very different city, and a very different world, in the early 1990’s. The national monuments, museums, and halls of government all retain their historical locations and significance. But our domestic and international politics, as well as the city itself, have undergone dizzying cycles of transition over the past 30 years.

In the current moment, with a bitterly divided federal government and a third indictment against our former president recently announced, it’s easy to be cynical about the future of Washington D.C. and the direction of our country. But as we traversed the city and visited some of our national institutions, the civic and religious idealism of my young adult years began to reverberate through my mind and spirit.

D.C. pulses with a beautiful diversity of God’s people from all over the planet. It was a moving experience to stand next to Chinese, Latino, and African American families in the National Archives Museum while viewing our nation’s Constitution. Later, walking slowly alongside young and old Americans from diverse backgrounds through the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian produced a collective reverence I did not expect.

The national monuments to our former presidents are remarkable architectural works. And while the legacies of these founders continue to be reviewed and even scrutinized through updated lenses of equity and justice, they were inarguably inspired by a higher purpose as they conceived the values upon which a new nation would be built.

My worldview has been altered over the decades by the sober realism of contemporary politics and institutional religious challenges. I still believe, however, that there are “braver angels” within all of us that would have us believe we hold more in common with our fellow national and global citizens than that which divides us.

THIS SPIRIT AND HOPE for unity was poignant throughout our trip, but two brief experiences remain with me. The first was at the National Museum for the American Indian, where the history of indigenous mistreatment by white settlers and government institutions is explained in matter-of-fact exhibits and displays. One display recounts the indigenous tribal leader Powhatan, who in 1608 anticipated the arrival of troops in the Chesapeake Bay area under the direction of Captain John Smith:

               “For many do inform me your coming is not for trade,
                But to invade my people and possess my country . . .
                To cheer us of this fear, leave aboard your weapons.
                For here they are needless, us all being friends.”

Sadly, this entreaty was not heeded, and years of conflict ensued in the Anglo-Powhatan Wars that foreshadowed centuries of other Anglo-indigenous conflicts.

The second was a fascinating interactive display at the Smithsonian’s Natural History Museum that shows how global ocean conditions affect demographics, climate, agriculture, and sea life patterns. Human impact on climate change is well-documented – this spherical representation brings this impact to life in no uncertain terms.

The takeaway for me was this: while governments, militaries, and business enterprises go to great lengths to identify the boundaries of our oceans, the 71% of our planet made up of water functions as one body, one resource, one element of creation. To deny or minimize that unifying reality is done at the peril of all of us.

The 71% of our planet made up of water functions as one body, one resource, one element of creation.

In this United States of America, unity is not uniformity. We are united by the values and commitments that lift the fortunes of everyone. The same goes for the Church. We may have differing opinions, worship styles, or cultural traditions, but our unity in Christ serves as the higher purpose that connects us to our Creator.

As our liturgy proclaims, “For the peace of the whole world, for the well-being of the church of God, and for the unity of us all, let us pray to the Lord . . . Lord, have mercy.”  Amen!