Now more than ever

This is my newsletter column for January, 2013. I also read most of this at the opening of worship services this weekend, following the tragic events in Newtown, CT. The Paschal Candle was burning throughout worship, to remind us of the Light of Christ in our darkness, and the font was moved to the door to remind us that we are sent into the world as the children of God. 

I’m writing this on December 15th because of newsletter deadlines. It’s a cold, rainy day - more like March than a week before Christmas. Yesterday it was sunny and 50 degrees outside - more like April than mid-December. Such a confusing year.

 But even more confusing than the weather is the kind of stuff that’s going on in this world. Yesterday, twenty little children lost their lives to a deranged killer in a quiet elementary school, as did their school principal and psychologist, some heroic teachers, and the shooter’s mother. None of it makes sense.

 On the other side of the world in China, a similar incident took place at an elementary school but it was not so well-reported because no one died. There a deranged man used a knife to attack 22 school children, along with an 85-year-old woman. He slashed at them viciously, leaving some in critical condition. None of it makes sense.

 Over the last few months there have been mass killings in a mall in Oregon, and at a spa in Brookfield, and the Sikh Temple in Oak Creek, and a movie theater in Colorado. None of it makes sense.

 These are all places where we should feel safe, but especially in a school. Our illusions of security have now been shattered.  My oldest niece is an elementary school principal. Another one teaches in a middle school. I have a nephew who teaches in a high school. They should not have to think about whether they will need to jump into the line of fire to protect the children they teach and love. They should be able focus all their energy on loving those children and opening up new worlds through education, not keeping their eyes open for potential evil. 

So now, this rain today feels like God is crying for our very broken world and for God’s very wounded children.

 No, none of it makes sense as we’re preparing for the coming of the Christ child. And yet, this is when we need him the most. We need the light of Christ to shine in this very dark and wounded world. We need to see the child in the manger, to remember that he came for the children who have suffered - not only in Newtown, CT or in Beijing, China, but in all of the world. We need Jesus, who came in the flesh to suffer for all of us and with all of us.

We need to hear the voices of the children at the Christmas program to remind us of life and joy and celebration. We need to sing to remind us that God gives us gifts of life and love and hope. We need to light the candles on the Advent wreath and to turn on our Christmas lights and sing by candlelight on Christmas Eve to remind us that the light of Christ shines even brighter in very dark places. We need to pray for those who are so overcome by that dark pain and grief that they cannot see the light just yet. It will come.

 “The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:5) We light candles during the darkness of the Advent season to remind us. We fill our sanctuary with the light of candles on Christmas to celebrate that Light of Christ come to us. We move from Christmas light into the Season of Light, Epiphany, to hear how Christ is revealed to us. We need him now more than ever.

About my Dad

This will be my June monthly newsletter column for the church newsletter.


I’m writing this the day after returning from my Dad’s funeral. Since this is for the June newsletter and June is the month we celebrate Father’s Day, I thought it may be appropriate for me to share with you the basic message I shared about my Dad at his service. It may inspire some of you to think about the ways your own fathers have blessed your lives, and hopefully will inspire some of the fathers who read this to think about the legacy you leave in your children.

In the movie It’s a Wonderful Life, Jimmy Stewart’s character is given a view of what the world would be like if he had never been born. I think of that as I consider my Dad’s life because he wasn’t supposed to live past his first day. He was a “blue baby” and was baptized as soon as the pastor could get there because they thought he wouldn’t make it 24 hours. Imagine what this world would be like if they had all been right and Daddy had died on that first day. And that was only the first of his many lives – he had plenty of serious accidents throughout his life that he was lucky to survive including a kick in the head from a cow that left him blind in one eye, a couple of encounters with power take offs (PTO – for those of you familiar with farm equipment) that almost killed him, and a barn that collapsed on him leaving him with a broken back. But somehow that man managed to live 95 years – longer than any of his eight siblings (although Aunt Wolga is only 90, so she could still outlive him.)

There were five full pews of his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren who would not be here if that “blue baby” had not lived. There were five full pews of us who would never have been blessed with his wisdom and all he had to teach us if any of those “nine lives” had been his last. My Dad was the best teacher I’ve had in my life – and I’ve had some pretty darn good teachers. But Dad didn’t teach with lectures or sermons or books. He taught me by letting me watch him live. He taught me by modeling for me how to live a life of faith and hope and love.

All that Dad taught me can best be summarized in one verse: And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13) Dad taught me more about faith than all of my seminary professors and pastors combined. No offense to any of them, but Dad showed me what it looks like to live by faith and to live out my faith with all that I am. He taught me that faith is more than words. Faith is action. Faith is life lived to its fullest and best, and in service to the world.

Dad taught me about hope too. He taught me that hope is not about things we hope for, or success or fame or wealth. What Dad hoped for was that his children and grandchildren would just be happy – happy with life, happy with what they have, happy with who they are. Perhaps a better word would be content. Hope is about being content and not anxious or oblivious to the joy that is right in front of you. Hope is seeing through eyes of faith. (Again, back to faith.) Hope is what gives us courage to take risks and to stand up for what we believe. Hope helps us to speak with passion and conviction. Hope opens our hearts to love.

Which brings me to the greatest thing Dad taught me - love. Like with faith, Dad showed me that love is more than words. He loved Mom more than life itself. He loved his children – each one of us the same, and he would have loved more if God had given him more, as he told me. He clearly adored his grandchildren. And you should have seen his face light up with joy and love when one of his great-grandchildren came running into the room. But Dad’s love was not just for his family. Dad loved everyone. Dad was respectful and caring toward every person he met. I can’t recall ever hearing him say a bad thing about anyone (except maybe a president or politician, but if he met them personally he would probably have found something good to say about them too.) He helped anyone who needed help. He hurt for those who suffered. He stood up for those who suffered injustice. He loved with the same conviction of faith and hope that guided him in all his life. Yes, the greatest of these is love.

My Dad may be gone now, but faith, hope and love abide still. They abide in all of us who learned from him and who carry on in this world yet. We honor Dad by living with the faith and hope and love that he instilled in us. We honor God, who blessed Dad in this life and blessed us with Dad. We honor God by passing on that same faith, hope and love to the generations who follow us. That’s what makes life wonderful.

Life Passages

Yesterday I presided at a wedding. I'm not sure how many I've done in 19 years of ministry. At last count, it was over 80. I have to admit, leading up to every wedding I find myself thinking "Here we go again. These are such a pain in the butt because they take so much time." But every time, when it comes to the wedding itself I find myself becoming overwhelmed with emotion and love and the power of that whole event. I watch as a groom sees his beautiful bride enter the church, and it always amazes me over when he gets weepy. Yes, grooms are often more weepy than the brides. Yesterday was no exception. Paula was gorgeous. Ben was obviously totally head over heels in love. Everyone was filled with joy. And yes, I was absolutely humbled by the privilege that comes with this position of pastor - it is a privilege to be a part of these life passages.

After the ceremony, Don (who has witnessed many of these events where I've presided) told me that I "really shine" when it comes to weddings and funerals. I know he meant "shine" as in "excel." But I prefer to think of it as shining with the light of love and life. I've been thinking about that whole "shining" concept, especially in connection with weddings and funerals.

I'd have to say there are 2 key reasons I may "shine" at them. One, I genuinely love these people. I really do. I love being honored to be part of their lives. And two, I genuinely love life - with all of the passages that we experience. Those experiences are really what give me inspiration in ministry.

Holding a newborn baby, less than a day old - what can possibly be more humbling and awesome than that? Baptizing that same baby weeks later, and knowing that a whole life journey is waiting to unfold. Repeating the same words of blessing as I lay my hands on the heads of teenagers reaffirming their baptism in the service of confirmation. They may or may not mean the words they speak - sometimes I wonder if they really understand the power of that faith. But no matter. The Holy Spirit is at work, and I feel that power in that moment.

Weddings, more births, baptisms yet to come. They all mark significant times of joy. They all overwhelm me. But none more so than the life passage of death and dying. It may sound strange to say, but I feel even more in awe of this pastoral privilege when I accompany someone in their dying. When I am with someone who has come to a place of faith and acceptance in this journey, words cannot express the depth of love that I feel in that time. One of the deepest, most faith-filled conversations I've ever had took place at a hospital with Jim, who spoke profoundly of his faith, his family, his love and his life - and the gratitude he felt for all of them. I could write endlessly about some of those experiences. They help to drive and inspire my faith. They are the heart of my ministry... literally. They fill my heart and give me hope. Which is why I pour my heart into funerals. This is the ultimate life passage from this life to a new one that I can only imagine.

Weddings and funerals may be exhausting. But they also enrich my life. They are a privilege, an honor, a joy - even in the hardest of times.

Good news Bad news

I have a few minutes before the chicks pick me up, so I'll get a quick update on here....

The good news is, I won't have to empty a dump tank at all on this trip. The bad news is, it's because there's a leak somewhere and I can't use the water hook-up or even the reserve tank. As soon as I turned the water on after hooking it up, there was a steady run from the back of the RV. So I tried putting some in the reserve tank and no dripping.... until I turned the pump on. Guess I won't be using water in the RV. Good news - bathhouse is handy and I can walk. Bad news - Tasha the diva is complaining about no flowing water from the faucet. She'll get over it. Her flowing fountain water bowl is just fine and she does drink from it. She just prefers the faucet.

Good news,yes I have internet access here. Bad news, I have to bring the laptop to the campground office to use it. But that's not so bad either. Maybe I'll break some of my internet/facebook addiction. lol

Bad news, there is no TV reception to speak of. But maybe that's good news so I can break that addiction too. But I really hate not having my morning news show fix, and feeling out of touch with the world.

Good news, Tasha is adjusting pretty well to this RV thing. Bad news, she's a bit more whiny than usual - but again that's just because of the water thing.

Good news, I got my morning walk in. Bad news, my hip is really hurting for some reason. And the jury is still out on these toning shoes. Perhaps they're making the hip hurt more? Time will tell.

Best news, I'm spending the day with some good friends! We're starting with breakfast out, then shopping and a wine tasting and possibly a lighthouse visit. Mostly we'll be catching up and talking a lot! More updates later!

Newsletter Reflection

    Last week brought back memories of almost two years ago for me. Watching the Breitlow family sitting vigil with Marion as she was dying reminded me so much of my own family waiting and watching with Mom. In many ways, Marion felt like my Martin Luther "Mom," so maybe the connection was natural for me. Either way, as Carl and Peter made sure at least one of them was always there with their mother, I saw in their faces what was surely in my own that summer: a mixture of expectation and exhaustion, memories and being "in the moment" as they watched every breath.

    When Jane called me Thursday night to tell me that Marion had died after that long week of vigil, I again felt the mix of emotions. While there is a sense of relief that the wait is over, there is also grief. It always amazes me how death can bring both sorrow and joy – at least when death is expected. There is sorrow for the loss in this life, but joy that she is now at peace and celebrating the next life. When death is expected, we can move from Lenten sorrow to Easter joy relatively quickly. It's a little harder when the death is sudden or tragic or when it happens to someone whom we deem to be "too young," but eventually we hope to always move to Easter joy.

    And then there are those times when we get very tangible reminders of that Easter joy here and now. Sometimes God gives us those gifts to make new life real. Friday morning, as I set about the business of sending out emails and contacting people about Marion, I got a joyful email from Lois Goetzke. Baby boy Olson had been born that morning at 4:44 am. Chad and Katie (who I was honored to marry last summer) are now parents, and Bob & Lois are grandparents. New life here and now! Little Drew is a new life to be celebrated in this family at Martin Luther Church, even as we mourn the loss of one of our "rocks" here in the congregation.

    My email to the prayer chain on Friday morning said I had two very conflicting requests this day. I asked for prayers of thanks for the life of Marion Breitlow, and for her family. I asked for prayers of thanks for the life of baby boy Olson (he was still without a name at that time,) and for his family. And then I said I realized they were not so conflicting after all. Prayers of thanks for both lives – one already lived, one just beginning. Prayers for both families who were facing new realities – one without their matriarch and the foundational rock, one with a new little one who will create havoc for a while but who will bring far more joy into their lives. Lenten grief, followed quickly by Easter joy. Amazing how God works sometimes.

    In my own family, just a few short weeks after my Mom died, we found out that my niece was expecting a new great-grandchild for Dad. We were all convinced Mom had something to do with little Connor arriving to bring new life and joy to our family – especially for Dad. Whether that was true or not, I believe that God does send us blessings and gifts to remind us that grief is temporary. Life continues and blossoms and flourishes. Easter joy is not just about resurrection in the life to come, but resurrection and hope in this life too. Alleluia!

I'm "owned" again

Yes, I have a new cat. Her name is Tasha, although she really prefers to be called Queen Tasha, or Your Highness, or Her Majesty. Tasha is a 17-year-old cat who has outlived her two previous owners. When her elderly first owner died, her daughter took her home. The daughter died recently and her grown children were unable to keep Tasha and needed a new home for her. Enter ME. We were connected via Karen, my friend who is the pastor for Tasha's original family. I think somehow Karen sensed my need to have a furry companion again.

I finished my year of mourning for Max as we entered the Lenten season, and had become very aware of my empty lap again. As much as I have enjoyed the year of freedom from litter boxes and the ability to travel for long times without worrying about a critter at home, I have missed the companionship more. So when Karen emailed me to see if I was ready for a cat again, I knew the time was right. Besides, who else would take in a 17-yr-old cat with special needs?

Yes, the Queen needs special care. She has asthma so regular scoopable litter is out. We use a litter made from recycled newspapers that doesn't have the dust of the regular litter. (Her Majesty is making my house "green" too!) She also just had several teeth removed so needs soft food. No more mega-bags of the crunchy stuff that can be put out for days away. Nope. She needs the canned stuff that has to be served fresh. And not only that, but she has kidney issues and I am transitioning her to the prescription canned food.

Yes, the Queen would probably have a hard time finding any other home with all those needs and her advanced age. She has also discovered that I will turn on the water faucet for her when she sits at the sink while I'm getting ready for work. Now Her Majesty keeps insisting she wants all her water that way instead of from the bowl. I'm trying to resist giving in, but when the Queen is demanding I get up to feed and water her at 6 am, the damage is done. I'm awake.

Yes, I am now "owned" by another cat. The Queen's reign here has begun. It is very clear she owns me and not the other way around. She knows she already owns my heart, so owning the rest of me and the home too just follows. But I wouldn't have it any other way. (Well maybe a little.... ) Even though it has only been a week, I can't imagine not having her here any more. She may be demanding, but she is also incredibly loving. She's on my lap constantly when I sit. She follows me everywhere. She purrs as loud as she meows and even more often. She is the sweetest thing.

I didn't realize how much I missed having that critter on my lap until Tasha took her place there. Hard to say how long she'll be there since she is 17, after all, with poorly functioning kidneys. I may be simply a hospice home for her. Or we may have a few years ahead of us. Either way, she'll spend the rest of her days in a safe and happy home, and she'll own a very loving and loyal subject. :)

When Experts are full of BS

Did that fashion "expert" on GMA this morning really say "strapless looks good on everyone"? She's obviously never been to a midwestern wedding. I can't begin to tell you how many times I've seen bridesmaids, and even some brides, who were told that lie and unfortunately believed it. The end result is usually some sadly self-conscious young women who clearly wish they were wearing anything else.

True, bridesmaids dresses are notorious for being bad fashion choices anyway. You have to try to find a style that works for women of a variety of body types. The color has to work on a rainbow of skin tones and hair colors (and sometimes those hair colors really are a rainbow.) The latest fashion trends may not be trendy in photos 20 years from now, but just look silly. (Anyone remember floppy hats from the 70's?) But strapless dresses never seem to go away because "experts" keep repeating lies like "strapless looks good on everyone."

The truth is, strapless dresses look good on very few women! Too many bridesmaids who struggle with their weight (and I say this as someone who does) have overflowed the confines of the strapless dress for decades. And I don't just mean their cleavage. Strapless dresses do nothing to conceal the excess that bulges over the top from all directions.

And speaking of cleavage.... I have lost count of how many young women who are extremely well-endowed have walked the long aisle praying that this dress without anything holding it up does not fall down to result in a clip on America's Funniest Home Videos. Let me tell you, women repeatedly pulling their dress up is NOT a good look.

On the other end of the spectrum, bridesmaids who are too skinny don't look particularly attractive in strapless either. It just emphasizes their "gazelle-like" necks.... making them look like a giraffe instead. Protruding collar bones are not especially attractive either.

So I may not be an "expert," but after doing almost two decades of weddings, I think my experience must count for something. Trust me, brides-to-be. You will be doing your bridesmaids a big favor if you skip the advice and the lies, and pass over those strapless dresses for your wedding unless all your bridesmaids are perfect models.