A Lutheran Says What?

Sermons and random thoughts on God, the world and the intersection of the two

Letter to OSLC On Racism May 30, 2020

Dear OSLC Family,

Words escape me for what is happening in our collective life in this country. Yet, as a public leader, as a theologian, your pastor, as a human, as a follower of Jesus, I must speak out even when it’s hard. I’m struck by the words of Jesus from the John 20 reading for this week’s gospel: “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” Jesus sends the disciples into the world to be the Church, and to name sin when they see it in action.  Friends, we must name the sin that we are witnessing with horrific and murderous consequences: the sin and evil of systemic racism. We have to name the murder of George Floyd, and so many others Ahmaud Arbery, Breeona Taylor, Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland to name a few, as unjust murder. I know that this topic may make some of you uncomfortable, and possibly angry with me that I am “being too political.”  I can tell you that even writing (and now speaking) these words are not comfortable for me either, yet I must say them because politics is about how we live together as humanity. Our own confession of sin, as found in our book of worship, proclaims that if we don’t name our sin, the truth is not in us. The truth is, structural and systemic racism is evil and sinful. It denies our siblings who are black and brown full and abundant life. It denies them the very breath that Jesus breathes into all of God’s people. It denies us all the fullness of our humanity. Our health, well-being and liberation from sin is inextricably bound up in health, well-being and liberation from sin of all people. If one part of humanity is harmed, we all are harmed.

As people of faith who are white, we have hard work to do for this sin and evil to be healed. We must admit our own complicity, comforts and benefits of the current system of racism. We must renounce and repent of our witting and unwitting participation each day that upholds this unjust social structure of racism and white supremacy (not to mention all unjust social structures). This work will be difficult, risky and decentering. We must listen to and center the voices of people who are suffering in the system of racism, we must lend our voices when appropriate and called upon (this alone will be great learning), and we must act to dismantle racism in our lives, congregation, community, country and world.

This risky work will cost us something; Jesus never denies that picking up our crosses and following him will be easy or safe. Jesus says that he came to divide, those who will stand for the truth of the gospel and those who will continue to be complicit in the ways of the world. The truth of the gospel demands that we lay down our lives for our siblings, that this is what love looks like, our own deaths. Love that risks family and friends distancing themselves from us as we tell hard truths and learn to walk the walk of antiracism. Love that engages in difficult and uncomfortable conversations for the sake of learning, growth and abundant life for all people regardless of color, gender, sexual orientation, class, race or creed. Love that hangs in tenaciously despite fear, exhaustion or uncertainty. Love that commits to change and to do better for the sake of our neighbor in need. We won’t do this perfectly, we will make mistakes, I will make mistakes, (I’m likely making mistakes in this very letter) but when we do make a mistake, we learn and do better.

Yes, I know that we are also in the midst of a pandemic and the uncertainty of many aspects of our lives together is palpable. We are uncertain of when our building will open and when we will have in-person worship. We are uncertain of how the church will change in the coming year (as it will have to). Yet, the pandemic has highlighted what has been certain in this country for 400 years: that not all lives have mattered, particularly lives of black and brown people. The certainty that black and brown people are dying of COVID19 at a higher rate and is out of control on the Navajo Nation in our own state. The certainty that those who are essential and have to work in public are predominately people of color. The certainty that many people of color lack health care. In the midst of our own uncertainties, some things are certain.

AND, there is the certainty of God’s presence, the sustaining power of the Holy Spirit to prod us to do hard things. God’s power, as witnessed in our Acts texts by wind and fire, is poured out to us today, connects us as one, unified humanity, and gives us the ability to speak and hear the languages of our siblings-do we hear them? Do we hear their cries of fear, lament and injustice-even if it’s a language we don’t know such as protests and riots? Can we hear the language of oppression and anger that hasn’t been previously heard and taken seriously? Can we hear the language of looting as a language learned from white culture that has looted other cultures for our own benefit for centuries? Can we hear the words “I can’t breathe” and offer our own breath in solidarity?

My friends, I don’t have any answers. I don’t know where this journey of dismantling racism in ourselves and the country will lead us.  I do know that I have a vision of unity and love with this hard work. I do know that we must take the first step of being on the path. I will be offering a book club to explore this hard conversation this summer and probably into the fall. We will start with the book “How to be and Antiracist” by Ibram X. Kendi. Look for details of when to come in the enews. This is only a baby step, the prayer is that it will lead to leaps of faith.

Thank you for your faithful work in a world that offers no reward in return for this work. Thank you for your commitment to the gospel of Jesus, particularly when it’s difficult. Thank you for taking your baptism into the mission of God’s Kingdom, for reconciliation and freedom of all, to your heart, head and soul. Thank you for listening and contemplating this letter. It’s a privilege to be your pastor. Please know that I am always available for a phone call, a Facetime or a Zoom for conversation. I know that this is hard but we are in this together. We are not alone.  Jesus says “Remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Matthew 28: 20.

In the love of Christ, Pastor Brigette

 

 

 

Asked to Leave: A sermon on Deportation, Detention and Border Crossings June 25, 2019

This sermon was preached on June 23, 2019 at Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church in Holladay, Utah.

The Bible texts were Galatians 3: 23-29 and Luke 8: 26-39

Children’s sermon: Gather the children: Tell them that we are going to play a game similar to Simon Says, except they are going to walk through the sanctuary. You are going to call out directions using the phrase “Jesus says.” Examples: at first Jesus says walk ten steps forward down the middle aisle. Jesus says turn right and offer a high five, etc. Then regather them together. How did it feel not knowing what I was going to say next? It can be unsettling can’t it? We like to know what’s happening next. In our story today, Jesus goes to an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people. He heals a man who has been hurting a long time and the people were afraid of this man. Jesus heals him and makes the hurt go away, but the people were afraid of Jesus’ power to heal people who were very sick. So they asked Jesus to leave. He did and the man who was healed wanted to come with him. Jesus told him that he needed to stay and share and be a sign with the people of God’s power in his life and the man does. Jesus’ words in our life also have power. Jesus wants us to use Jesus’ words to share with people God’s love for them, even people not like us or people we would rather not be around, even if we’re afraid. They are all God’s beloved children. Jesus’s word in your and everyone’s life is always one of love. Can you remember that? Ok! Let’s pray:

Have you ever been asked to leave somewhere? Honestly, I don’t think I have…which is surprising simply because, well, you know, me. There are times when Mike and I voluntarily left somewhere as we knew our kids were being a problem, or I’ve left a meeting or gathering where I didn’t fit in or it was obvious the gathering/meeting was intended for someone else.  Now, I have asked people to leave on rare occasion. Honestly, there have been a couple of times at some of the churches I’ve served when someone has come into the office seeking assistance and when we didn’t provide exactly what they needed, they’re behavior became unpredictable, angry or belligerent. For the safety of myself and others that I am charged to care for, I have politely asked people to leave. Most have, under their own volition, but a couple of times with assistance from law enforcement. And to be transparent, those interactions never feel good to me. I mean, we’re supposed to be CHURCH, right? We’re supposed to love everyone, give them what they need, care for them, forgive them…and often when I have asked people to leave, they bring this up to me. “This isn’t very Christian! You are not a good Christian!” And I would be lying to you if I said that doesn’t sting a bit. I feel like a big hypocrite. And I don’t like feeling threatened. Often my fear of someone’s unpredictable behavior wins out over the fear of being a hypocrite. And maybe that is ok but that tension remains because often it’s not only the threat of physical harm that leads me to exclude someone. I might simply feel uncomfortable because they don’t fit a social norm, or act in a way I don’t understand or are simply different from myself.

Our Luke story hits at the heart of this complexity of this tension. We read that Jesus goes to the opposite side of Galilee-to Gerasa. This land of the Gerasenes is one where Jesus didn’t know anyone. Based on the commerce of pig raising, we can assume that there were quite a few more Gentiles here than in Galilee and/or more Jewish people not adhering to the purity laws. Jesus was a long way from home perhaps both geographically and culturally. Sometimes you don’t have to travel far, or at all, to be the outsider.

Then a man possessed by so many demons that the name they offered was “Legion,” which in Roman culture represented 6,000 troops, basically ambushed Jesus the second he and the disciples stepped ashore. This man had been ostracized from his community due to his unpredictable and erratic behavior. The people were comfortable of escorting him out of town, locking him up, and sending him to be with the dead. They might have had some guilt about his exclusion, but he was dangerous right? But Jesus engages him and recognized that this man as a beloved child of God who needed his help. Jesus immediately commanded the demons to come out of him and the demons seemingly had no choice but to follow Jesus’ command to leave the man but wanted some agency in where they went next. Jesus surprisingly grants them their choice to enter the swine, only for the demons to discover that the swine were headed for their own demise. Now a little aside, in the ancient world it was well known that water would defeat demons. The swineherds were livid at this as their whole livelihood was destroyed by the newcomer, this outsider, this migrant man ignorant of their culture and lifestyle. They told the people in the town about the crimes committed by Jesus, first even engaging the town lunatic and second at killing their herd of pigs. This guy, Jesus, might be a bigger problem than the one who was demon possessed.

And then they go and find that the man who had been excluded, ostracized and isolated sitting with Jesus. Through Jesus’s words of power over this man’s demons (whatever they might have been) and by going where everyone else feared to trod, into the tombs, this man, whose identity had been one not of his own choosing , was clothed and as clear minded as any of them. And it was too much, it was too frightening, Jesus had come too close, trespassing into territory where he didn’t belong, it was none of his business what happened to this man and clearly Jesus had to go. I doubt it was a polite invitation to leave. I’m sure that there were angry, venomous words hurled at Jesus, name calling, ethnic slurs and worse. Jesus hadn’t come to make them angry, he had come to heal and to proclaim what God can do and is doing in the world for all people. God is crossing borders even if it is for the sake of the healing of one person. God trespassed on their sense of security, good order and safety to reveal that every person is worthy of community, love and freedom from what binds them. In Jesus, God comes uncomfortably close and that will turn lives upside down and make people at the very least uncomfortable, if not angry. If Jesus’ word could make a detour in this life of this man, what would Jesus’ word do in their lives?

As Americans in the 21st century we’ve domesticated Jesus into a guy who makes us feel good about ourselves, forgetting that Jesus came to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. The townspeople in this story were comfortable with the order they had created. If some people have to leave so that the rest can feel safe and secure, then so be it. And I know I am more like the townspeople in this story than I would like to admit. I want to know that I can ask people who make me uncomfortable or want to turn my world upside down, to leave. I want to ask people to leave who don’t look like me, act like me, talk like me, like the same things, or hold the same convictions I do. Worse yet is when my silence makes my intentions clear that I want someone to leave.

And then I am afflicted, by Jesus, for my words and actions. Afflicted that whomever I want to leave is really Christ. Jesus’ word in my life reveals that I, and us all, are to see Christ in all whom we encounter and love them. We are to see Christ in the man possessed by demons,  in the women, children and babies, some premature, being held in what we are euphemistically calling detention centers but are closer to concentration camps, in conditions that many of us wouldn’t put our cat or dog in. We are to see Christ in the people who come seeking asylum, freedom, a better life. We are to see Christ in people who think differently, want different paths for their lives, and we are to create spaces for them in our lives, churches, and hearts. Undocumented people are people: people who want to work, be a part of a community and have the right to be treated as fully human. People-who are different from you and me, and yet not. They are made in God’s holy image and Jesus is clear in Matthew 25 that whatever we do or don’t do for our neighbor we are doing or not doing to Christ himself. This isn’t a partisan political issue, it’s a theological and a humanitarian one. God’s political agenda is that we live together as the one loving people God created us to be, with no distinction as Paul writes in Galatians 3, that in Christ, neither free or slave, Jew or Greek, male and female, black or white, gay or straight, pro-life or pro-choice, democrat or republican, refugee or natural citizen, ill or well. Just as Jesus clothed the man whom the townspeople tried to deport to the tombs, Jesus clothes us all in God’s love and grace.

Jesus’ word in my life detours me from a path of excluding those who make me uncomfortable, to a path of walking with those whom I never imagined, to standing in solidarity demanding loving justice for my neighbor. A colleague on the ELCA Clergy FB page reminded us of our ordination vows yesterday: “Every ordained minister shall speak publicly to the world in solidarity with the poor and oppressed, calling for justice and proclaiming God’s love for the world.” And we all responded, “I ask God to help and guide me.” This is not only my vow, but it is our baptismal vow when we promise to seek justice and peace. Even though the townspeople ask Jesus to leave and again surprisingly he does, Jesus doesn’t leave them alone. He sends the now healed and whole man back to them to be a sign, a witness to the town of what God’s trespassing into our lives looks like-a sign of reconciliation in community, a sign of astonishing grace that can reach us anywhere we may go. Even when we try and send Jesus away, Jesus’ word of love in our lives has the power to stay with us and to detour us for the sake of our neighbor, to clothe us in love and grace and send us out to speak out, be in solidarity with our neighbor and to be this sign of God’s healing, hope justice and solidarity with those in need. Thanks be to God.

 

The Power in this Moment Sermon on Pentecost Jun 9, 2019 June 9, 2019

This sermon was preached at Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church in Holladay, Utah. The texts are Acts 2:1-21 and John 14: 8-17, 25-27

Children’s sermon: (Have ribbons, the paper flames for the prayer station and glow sticks to give them) Gather the children and have a red ribbon and a glow stick. What’s your favorite color? Mine is red! So I love it when we have Pentecost and Reformation Sunday or Confirmation and I get to wear my red stole. Or anything red! What’s awesome about the color red, as well as orange and yellow, is that they are bright colors and you can’t miss them! This is why crossing guards at your school, or construction workers on the highway wear orange or yellow or sometimes that neon green color. They need to be seen for safety and we don’t want to miss seeing them!  In our bible story this morning in Acts, there was a strong wind that was hard to miss! And then what looked like fire appeared with the people! What colors are in fire? Red, yellow, orange. Hard to not see fire isn’t it! While we don’t see wind, we can see what wind does: it moves and blows things around as well as changes things. When the Holy Spirit shows up and we notice God’s presence and how things change. The Holy Spirit was among the people and God didn’t want them to miss it! God wants us to see that God is with us today and always in the Holy Spirit, like Jesus promised in the John story, we are never alone, and that God wants everyone to know about God’s love-no matter what language they may speak, where they live, or how old they are. For this to happen, all of God’s we must burn bright and move with the love of God. God wants us to prophesy which means to tell the truth that God’s love is for everyone today, people you like, people you don’t like or people who don’t like you. This love today will create more love for tomorrow!

And you don’t have to wait to be older to do this: God gives you gifts today to be God’s love in the world. We can see the Holy Spirit through the love that people give to each other. God’s movement and love can be seen all around us. Who shows you see God’s love in your life? How can we show God’s love to people? Family promise, food for Urban Crossroads, helping at home, being kind to a friend, inviting someone over to play this summer. I have these paper flames for you and all of us to write how we can share God’s love today and tape them to the crepe paper flames in the back. And I have a glow stick for each to you to remember to burn brightly. Let’s pray:

 

The Power in this Moment:

There is a video going viral this week of a dad and his baby sitting on the couch. Have you seen it? The baby is babbling with very animated expressions and arm movements and dad (a comedian) is responding to his son as if he’s understanding every word the baby is saying. He even occasionally initiates a new train of thought with the baby and the baby seems to respond appropriately. It’s adorable and great example of how young babies and toddlers learn to interact and communicate before they can be completely understood. The dad didn’t wait until his son was older and had complete language to have a meaningful conversation with him. He knew that the moment at hand was important and that he could show his son his love today and that his son needed him to relate to him just as he was-babbling baby and all. How they might communicate when the baby is older remains to be seen but what happened on this day will shape their relationship for the future. This dad knows there is power in the moment to shape a loving future.

It’s often hard to be in the moment. To stay grounded in the here and now. We get caught wistfully remembering the way it used to be: “the good ole days.” And in our memories, everything was perfect. And we love to project about what the future might bring. We think ahead about life will be. Such as when our children are babies we await the day when they sleep through the night. Or we can’t wait to finish school to “get on with our dreams and hopes,” or we can’t wait to retire to get to do all of things we can’t while we are in our careers. Always something to look forward to-always a way to compare yesterday, today and tomorrow and somehow “today” can seem like it’s not enough. Being in the moment today requires us to let go of the past and to suspend trying to predict what will happen in the future.

Today is Pentecost-a festival day in our church calendar that gets celebrated in many ways. Some call it the birthday of the Church, some call it the commemoration of the coming of the Holy Spirit, some call it the reversal of the Tower of Babel (although this interpretation is falling out of favor). But I’m going to offer that Pentecost, the 50th day after the resurrection of Jesus for Christians and the festival of the first fruits of the harvest for our Jewish siblings, is about God calling us to pay attention to the moment and not miss it. To live in the now. Not the past, and not the future. But to notice that God is moving in your life and calling you to be this same movement with others today-even if it’s not totally clear and doesn’t seem coherent.

When we can live in the moment, being fully attentive to the presence of God and God’s powerful deeds, the truth is revealed. This truth of our lives, how God’s loving power enlivens and empowers us TODAY is one that we need to share in whatever language and mode we have available. Peter is so moved by the moment of experiencing God’s powerful presence, that he stands up and simply begins to speak. He doesn’t write and rehearse a fancy sermon, he doesn’t look to an expert to explain it, he uses the first words that come to him: the words of the prophet Joel. Peter doesn’t even worry about having his own eloquent statements, or getting the passage right word for word, Peter speaks what he knows to be the truth of God’s presence with God’s people. God’s promise through Jesus Christ to be present today, to bring wholeness today, to bring us abundant life today, is also a promise that does shape our future and the future of the world.

This promise of today allows us to see where the Holy Spirit is at work and where we can participate with our gifts. God has gifted us for this work of today, this sacred time and this sacred place. The Holy Spirit today, is poured out upon all people and fills us so that we may boldly speak and act as Peter did, in our community, and all will hear our prophesy, our truth telling of God’s powerful deeds of love here and now. Prophesying doesn’t predict the future but tells the truth about God’s power today to shape our future wrapped by God’s promises for salvation which is wholeness-deep connection- with God and one another. God’s most powerful deed is God’s presence with us, in us and in creation. God’s power is expressed through empowering us-pouring out God’s Holy Spirit-for the sake of this power surging throughout all of creation. This power surge is what God promised in the resurrection of Jesus and God wants us to help it go viral. The power to destroy death, the power to redeem the broken, power to make God’s diverse people one in this love and truth. This truth telling of God’s power reveals to the world that through Jesus, God, in this moment, shapes our future into one beloved community. When we are in the moment-what truth can we proclaim?  When we are in the moment of hosting, eating, talking, caring and being community with the guests of Family Promise, we tell the truth of God’s promise for wholeness today. When we are in the moment of starting a Scout Troop, when we are in the moment of serving and welcoming our neighbor who doesn’t look, think or act like us, when we are in the moment of offering peace instead of anger, when we are in the moment of supporting and partnering with our black, brown, LBGTQIA, immigrants siblings and anyone whom society claims as less value than others, we are telling the truth of God’s promise for wholeness for all today and that shapes our future in love, grace, mercy and hope.

Pentecost isn’t a day from the past to just remember. Pentecost is today and each day as we live in the moment, empowered by the Holy Spirit to tell and be the truth of God’s promise of love and wholeness for all people. Today we are empowered, we have enough, we are enough, and this moment is enough for God’s powerful love to shape our future. Thanks be to God.

 

There Is Not One Good Story, Pentecost Year B Acts 2: 1-21, May 24th, 2015 May 25, 2015

Sometimes we just don’t know what is going on or what’s happening. For me, that’s most of my life honestly. When I began to pray, think and write this sermon, I spent some time wondering… “when was a time where I didn’t understand what was happening and it felt like a rush of violent wind or being burned by a refining fire? When was a time when I was shaped and informed by the people around me who are different? When was a time when I was astonished and amazed? When was a time I questioned or offered the cynical comment of someone being a off their rocker?” I  was searching for one good story of one of those times to go with this story of God’s Holy Spirit blowing into those gathered for the festival, unifying them, pushing them outside of what they could concretely know, understand and searching for what scripture had to say about all of this. I thought I needed one story to try and make sense of this scripture passage.

But I couldn’t come up with one good story. Not one.  I realized there is not just one story of this in my life and I suspect in yours. If we’re completely honest—everyday is like Pentecost for us. Each morning we wake up and we think we can predict what our day will be like (and sometimes we’re pretty close!) but it’s never exactly what we predicted. Each day we face the unknown, the amazing, the astonishing, the heartbreaking, the cynicism, the confusion, the clarity, and the questioning. Sometimes, all at once. Our days are messier, more outside our boxes and less controllable than we like to think about over our morning coffee. Anne Lamott wrote these words yesterday on her facebook page about reflecting on turning 61: “ Life is a precious unfathomably beautiful gift; and it is impossible here, on the incarnational side of things. It is so hard and weird that we wonder if we are being punked. And it is filled with heartbreaking sweetness and beauty, floods and babies and acne and Mozart, all swirled together.”

Our Acts 2 story begins with the disciples gathered together in that upper room and they thought that they had a pretty good idea about what their day was about to be like. Maybe more hiding, wondering, fear, waiting, or maybe a cautious trip to the temple for the festival. Pretty predictable. Pentecost came and went every year; nothing new to see. But how their day started and how their day ended they never could have predicted and I don’t think that they would have wanted to. Suddenly, they were caught in what must have felt like a tornado, can you imagine? How many have been in a tornado or a wind storm? It’s frightening when you watch debris thrown at you and you can’t control your own body due to the force. Then fire. Fire is very serious today but in the ancient world, it meant certain death and destruction. Fire couldn’t be controlled at all. At best, you prayed for rain.

Finally, they all heard strange and unknown languages. How many of you have been to foreign countries where you didn’t speak the language or at least not well? It’s disconcerting isn’t it? When you learn a few words or hear English, it’s as if that person speaking is now a close and personal friend. You’ve made a connection; it’s relieving and astonishing. So, welcome to the disciples unpredictable day. Not just one of those things happened, but they all did. In one day, in one moment, in one place. What a story!

Those who witnessed it couldn’t believe it and didn’t have a framework to place this experience into, so I kinda get it when some said: “well, these people have got to be drunk!” Or if they were in CO, these people have to be high! What was going on they wondered? This is not what I expected when I woke up today! Peter (always ready to jump in Peter) thought he’d better try and take a stab at this. He thought that he should give it some sort of grounding from the prophets, because the prophets completely make sense…right…..But what Peter did was connect God’s mysterious presence from the past, to the present and into the future. Peter named the uncertainty, pointed it out, gave it language, and reminded us that God is more than we can predict, more than we can intellectually explain, more than a cosmic slot machine where we put in our questions or prayers and get answers. God is on the move, God is doing a new thing, God is gathering us and making us rub off on each other, learn and literally shape one another. It’s messy and unpredictable and there’s just not one good story that encompasses all of this.

There’s not one good story. No, there are 7 billion great stories of God’s Holy Spirit loose in the world. There’s your story, my story, our story together, the story of LCM in this neighborhood, the story of Lakewood, of Jefferson County, Colorado…you get it. There are all of these stories of what God is doing in our lives and in the world and sometimes, we get to connect our stories together for a time. Sometimes we connect our story to someone whom we marry and we share this unpredictability together for 50 or 60 years. Sometimes we connect our stories with friends in high school for a time, or college or here in this congregation, or in our workplaces and we are perplexed by the wind that is shaping us, we wonder about the fire that might destroy to build something new. We navigate the unpredictability by sharing our stories of past experiences with God, pray together about the present and dream dreams about the future. And we share our stories with the world.

Today we celebrate and send off our graduates with those dreams and we are grateful for the time that they shared their story of God’s Holy Spirit in their lives with us. Quinn, Callista, TJ, Harrison, Heather, and Julie, your stories of God in your lives have shaped, perplexed (at times!), astonished and amazed us all. Thank you for your fire and your wind that is the Holy Spirit blowing in you. God’s story of love and good news that is part of your story is one that the world desperately needs, so go share it and translate it so that all may hear it. Life is unpredictable, you never know what your days may bring, but two things we want you to know:  1) God is with you always 2) You are all very loved by this community always. May that always sustain you and may everyday be a new day in God’s promises-may everyday be Pentecost, new wind and fire of God’s Holy Spirit, in and through you.

There is not one good story. My story of what the Holy Spirit is doing in my life is sending me in a new direction from the story that we have all shared together here at LCM. I am blessed and grateful for the Holy Spirit blowing me here for 2 and ¾ years and for all of the ways that this community has wrestled with me in questions of,  “what does this mean?”, amazement at what God is doing and will continue to do, astonishment at the powerful deeds of God in this place and in the world and, because I’m me, sharing a little cynicism. Your story of God’s Holy Spirit has blown me away, the passion of your fire for God’s work in the world has singed me and allowed for new growth in me, and your words have interpreted to me the depth of your faith in the living Christ. I will take your stories of the Holy Spirit’s wind and fire here at LCM with me always. Our stories will always be intertwined for the sake of revealing God’s love in the world. Thank you for your stories.

So, there is not just a good story. There is only the best story. It is the continuing and eternal story of God at work in all of us. There is the story of Jesus love, forgiveness and hope that is poured out not to only some but to all flesh. There is the story of the Holy Spirit’s wind and fire shaping us, destroying us and giving us new life not just for our own sake but for the sake of the world who is begging to hear and be a part of this great story. There is the story of God’s people being gathered and sent. Yes, it’s unpredictable, yes, we don’t always understand it, yes, it’s a mystery and yes, and sometimes all we have is a little cynicism and our calling on the name of the Lord.  But it’s God’s story of love for all of creation. Thanks be to God.