A Team Sport

As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God.  And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

--Colossians 3:12-14

It’s Bowl Season! This weekend the major college football bowl games will be played, and I am happy to say that “my” team is still in the hunt for a national championship.  While I was never much of an athlete (OK, I was never an athlete at all), I have always been a fan.  Baseball and football are my favorite sports to follow.  As a loyal fan, I have watched “my” teams go through championship seasons and years when wins were hard to come by.  I have watched star players come and go, and coaches get hired and fired.  But the best seasons are the ones when the team is playing as a team, where each player is playing his or her role to the best of their ability, and when everyone seems to “click”.

I have always believed that Christianity is a team sport.  OK, it’s not a “sport.”  It is a way of life.  But, stick with me for a minute.  Christian faith is a way of life that is meant to be lived together in community. The church is a team tasked with sharing Christ’s love and grace with the world in word and deed.  But, sadly (in my opinion), for many people today, doing the Christian faith in community seems optional.  That approach to the faith has never made sense to me.  It’s like trying to play football by yourself.  You can do it, but it is not nearly as much fun (trust me, I’ve tried).  

I understand that the church can be a tough place.  We have alienated and hurt many.  I have been an eyewitness to some pretty awful behavior in congregations! Sometimes the “team” is clearly not clicking.  I pray that God’s healing, forgiveness, mercy and reconciliation pour down on those places. I pray that God would send them whatever they need to become the caring communities of love and hope God intends them to be.

This week’s passage from Colossians is one of my favorite descriptions of what it means to be a community of faith, what it means to be Christ’s Church.  The whole passage turns on love: our love for one another shown in compassion and forgiveness, and God’s love for us, experienced through word and worship and thanksgiving.  The whole passage turns on Jesus, whose way of life should be our way of life, guiding and informing all that we say and all that we do.   It is the summary of the playbook for the Christian “team.”

If we lived up to the picture painted of the Church painted by Colossians, we would definitely be in the hunt for the championship every season!  Of course, as fallible, imperfect human beings, we rarely live up to the “perfect harmony” Colossians describes.  But, ultimately, we know that every season will be a winning season. Why?  Because we have the life of Jesus, the power of the Holy Spirit and the never failing love of God on our side.  And, for that, we can truly give thanks.

Peace,

Bishop Mike.

Thank-you for reading! May God bless you in this new year!  

A Quiet Power

Luke 2:1-20

This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.”

--Luke 2:12

Infant holy, infant lowly, for his bed a cattle stall;

Oxen lowing, little knowing Christ the child is Lord of all... 

In January of 1990, I visited the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem.  Because of violence in the area, we weren’t sure we were going to be able to visit the traditional birthplace of Jesus, but, the guns fell silent for a moment and we were able to slip in.  The Church of the Nativity is an interesting place.  The large main entrance doors were, for the most part, blocked up in the Middle Ages to keep marauding Crusaders from riding their horses into the church (so we were told).  You have to stoop to get inside the narrow opening that was left unblocked (unless you are short like I am).  The sanctuary, as I remember it, was cold and stark.  But, the grotto beneath the church, which tradition says, marks the place of the manger, is warm and beautiful and filled with flickering candlelight.  We only stayed a few minutes in the quiet, womblike place before our guide hurried us back to the bus.  The guns had woken up in the hillsides around the little town. It was time for us to go.

To this day, I am always awed by the contrast of the child born in a cattle stall to be Lord of all. Awed by the Prince of Peace born into a world so frequently torn by gunfire, violence and bloodshed.  Awed by the quiet power of the small, peasant child who grew up to challenge earthly and heavenly principalities and powers and defeat their machinations by dying on a cross and rising again on the third day.

This morning, as my daughter and I were watching a retrospective of 2018 on one of the morning news shows, I heard again the reverberating sound of the gunfire in the Bethlehem hills.  Except now, the sound of violence was echoing through schools and nightclubs, on city streets and synagogues; in the cries of hatred for those who are different because of the color of their skin, or their religion or their place of origin.  Like the Holy Family forced to walk the 80 miles from Nazareth to Bethlehem by the decree of Caesar, refugees and immigrants still wander across the globe due to decisions and actions of principalities and powers beyond their control.

More than ever, we need the quiet power of the child born in the manger!  More than ever, we need this sign of God’s presence with us, accompanying us and dying for us in a dangerous and divided world.  More than ever, we need this sign that God’s love and life truly are stronger than all the violence and hatred perpetrated by the principalities and powers that appear to be in control of our worlds.  More than ever, we need to be reminded that, as people of faith, we walk in the quiet power of the Christ-child and participate in God’s work of reconciling us to one another and to God.

…Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow, praises voicing, greet the morrow:

Christ the child was born for YOU!  Christ the child was born for you!  

Blessed Christmas,

Bishop Mike.

Thank-you for reading. This Christmastime, pray for that peace which passes all human understanding to be born in the hearts and minds of all people, and might grow among the peoples of the world.

Fruit is Better Than Sweets

Luke 3:7-18

Bear fruits worthy of repentance!  --Luke 3:8

Since being diagnosed with type 2 diabetes years ago, I have pretty much given up desserts and have learned how to enjoy fresh fruit instead.  At first, I missed the cookies, cakes, and ice cream.  Fruit seemed like such a weak alternative.  But, today (with the exception of chocolate chip cookies) I’d rather have fruit than sweets.  I almost always have apples, pears, little oranges, and strawberries – which are my favorite -- in my fridge.  Fresh fruit is not only good for you, but good too. 

In the wilderness, John calls the people to turn away from the “sweets” the world offers and back to God. The world tells us that we are defined by the sum of our possessions.  The world tells us that cleverness is to be valued over honesty. The world tells us that we should never be satisfied, always wanting for more.  In the economy of the world wealth, power and privilege are valued above all else.  

But, God’s economy is different.  Turning back to God leads to a different kind of fruit.  Fruit that is not only good for you, but good too.  The “fruits worthy of repentance” may not satisfy the sweet tooth of the world, but are the source of good relationships, strong communities and healthy lives.  

Hearing John’s call to bear fruits worthy of repentance, John’s listeners ask, “What then shall we do?” John identifies three fruits that come from being in relationship with God: generosity, honesty and satisfaction.  

Generosity is lifted up as a value throughout the scriptures. Generosity connects us to others, gives our lives meaning and a sense of purpose and builds up those around us. That’s pretty sweet fruit!  

In my experience, people who are honest are more relaxed, less defensive and more open to engaging the diversity and variety of the world around them.  They aren’t constantly trying to cover their tracks, work the angles and cover up their dishonesty and lies. The fruits of honesty are integrity and trustworthiness…  and that tastes pretty good, especially in a world where these qualities seem like rare fruit. 

Learning how to be satisfied with who you are and what you have does not mean we shouldn’t work for just or fair wages, or accept the reality of poverty in our world, or that we shouldn’t strive to better ourselves.  It does mean that we can live free of covetousness, envy and obsessive yearning for what we do not have.  It means learning to be exactly who God created us to be.  Nothing more and certainly nothing less.  Enjoying the fruits of satisfaction contributes to a life lived in the present without constantly dwelling on what could have been or scheming to bring about some future glory.   

John calls this good news. And it is.  The fruits of generosity, honesty and satisfaction that John envisions are embodied in the life of Jesus and are gifts of the Holy Spirit who is always at work cleaning out the chaff from our lives.  

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading.  I pray that you will discover the fruits of generosity, honesty and satisfaction this week!

Mountains and Valleys

Luke 3:1-6

Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low…  --Luke 3:5 (Isaiah 40:4)

I don’t remember many of the sermons I have heard over the years (including the ones that have spilled from my mouth).  But, one sermon I heard in college has always stuck with me.  It wasn’t the sermon so much as the image my campus pastor painted of a world where valleys were filled and the mountains and hills made low to make way for the love of God in Jesus Christ.  I remember the dramatic way he swept his large, soft hands back and forth to show the level place God would create for all peoples to stand together.  For the healing of the nations.  For the healing of broken, suffering and oppressed people everywhere.  For the healing of each and every one of us.  My campus pastor didn’t just preach this hopeful message with his lips, he lived it.  He was regularly working in our community to break down the barriers that separated people and to lift up the lowly and the outcast.  He wasn’t perfect.  Not by any means.  But, he showed us what it looks like to live out our faith in concrete ways in the real world in spite of our own brokenness.

I have always appreciated the way Luke anchors the story of Jesus in the real world.  He prefaces the story of Jesus’ birth, “in the days of Caesar Augustus…”  He begins the story of John’s ministry “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius…”    Luke wants us to know that the story he is telling is no fairy tale. Luke wants us to understand clearly that John and Jesus carry out their ministries in the messy, rough and tumble world of politics and religious institutions, not separate from them.  While Jesus says his Kingdom is not of this world, his proclamation of God’s Reign had real-world implications and led to real-world confrontations with the powerful people of his day.  As Jesus proclaimed God’s valley filling and mountain leveling love and grace for a hurting world, his message challenged the principalities and powers who always seem committed to digging the valleys and erecting the mountains that keep people apart.

John the Baptist came to remove the barriers that kept people from hearing and experiencing Jesus’ Good News.  As we think about the world around us, what barriers do you see that get in the way of people experiencing the healing love of God?  Where is there need for the healing of the nations today?  For the healing of the broken, suffering and oppressed people of our world?  For healing you and me?  How can we, as followers of Jesus Christ, work together to fill up some of the valleys (or even a few potholes) and level a few of the mountains (or just knock over some sand piles) that get in the way of Jesus’ Gospel here in our real world where politics and religion can still be awfully messy?

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading.  Pray for our political and religious leaders.  But, even more, let your faith inform how you speak and act in your “polis” (Greek for “city-state,” the root word of “political”) where you live.

Glad to Be Back!

1 Thessalonians 3:9-13

How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of you? (vs. 9)

It’s good to be back.  While I enjoyed my three month sabbatical and being disconnected for a while, I was ready to get back in the swing of things when I returned to the office on Tuesday afternoon.  Reconnecting with Pastor Liz, our Director of Evangelical Mission, and Ida, our bookkeeper, and the other folks I’ve seen in meetings and gatherings the past few days has felt good.  I can echo Paul’s words of gratitude for my partners in ministry in Oklahoma, Arkansas, across the Church and around the globe.  

The three months went by quickly.  My wife and I (along with our dog) spent some quality time in our RV visiting family in Arizona, seeing the Grand Canyon, driving through a bird sanctuary north of Salt Lake City, exploring Yellowstone National Park (pictured) and stopping by Custer State Park in the Black Hills.  I visited my mother, and sister in Milwaukee and my daughter in Chicago.  Then, I spent four days on a silent spiritual retreat…  I didn’t say a word out loud from Wednesday afternoon to Friday morning (those who know me well will wonder at that)!  I spent time reading, praying, and walking in the woods.  Then, I came home and wrote the book on loss, grief and nostalgia in the life of the congregation I’ve been researching for the past several years (thank-you to those Facebook friends and others who shared their feedback on the need for this book – it was very helpful!)  While writing, I took care of my wife who has been recovering from ankle surgery (and doing great).   I am thankful to God for blessing this time of renewal, reflection and creativity, and to those who covered for me while I was gone – especially Pastor Liz.  

Gratitude and thanksgiving are core teachings in both the Hebrew and Christian scriptures.  God’s people give thanks.  They give thanks in good times and in difficult circumstances. In the Psalms, thanksgiving and lament dance around each other continually.  At the center of their dance is the confession that God’s steadfast love endures even the worst of times and that God’s faithfulness can be trusted even when we can’t feel it.  Grateful people find it easy to love, tend to be quicker to forgive, worry less about themselves and serve more. 

This Sunday, the first Sunday in Advent, is the first Sunday of a new church year.  During this season of anticipation, we look forward with hope and expectation to the coming of Jesus.  As we begin this new telling of the story of Jesus, I would encourage you to look for reasons to be grateful.  That’s not always easy.  Scripture is pretty clear about that.  But, even if it’s just gratitude for your next breath, gratitude can be found if we look for it, and are open to it finding us.  My suggestion would be to start with the manger.

As I ease back into my work as Bishop of the Arkansas-Oklahoma Synod, my gratitude overflows for this ministry, for this call, and for all of you.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading! Say a prayer of thanksgiving for blessings big and small!

Choose.

John 6:56-69

“…chose this day who you will serve…”  --Joshua 24:15

A long, long time ago, someone accused me of being indecisive.  At the time, I couldn’t decide whether the person was right…  or wrong.  A few years ago, I participated in a week long Conflict Transformation course presented by the Lombard Mennonite Peace Center where we learned skills for mediating conflict and using disagreement creatively within the life of the church.  It was an excellent course and I would highly recommend it!  During that course, I learned I had a gift for seeing both sides of most issues.  That gift is useful for mediation, but is also a curse that frequently leaves one balancing in precarious indecision on barbed wire fences.   Over the years, I have learned to be more decisive, but it still doesn’t come naturally.

I am grateful that my salvation does not depend on my ability to decide, but rather, on God’s willingness to decide for me.   The story of the Bible is, at it’s heart, the story of God choosing for humanity. God chose to create us.  God chose to call Abraham and Sarah and bring a blessing from their progeny.  God chose to rescue God’s people from Egypt and bring them home from Exile.  God chose to send prophets to call the people back to faithfulness time and time again.  And, when the time was right, God chose to send God’s Son, to come among us, die for us and rise again so that we might have life and have it abundantly. In this week’s Gospel, Jesus says, “For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father.”   I rejoice that, down through time, the Father has granted humanity, and me, and you that gift again, and again and again.

But, God also gives us the ability to choose.    I have a strong belief in human agency.  That too is a gift from God.   Unfortunately, down through the ages, we human beings have frequently used that agency to choose poorly.  Sin – our estrangement from God and from one another – clouds our judgment and results in pain, suffering and sorrow; injustice and oppression, tragedy and death.   God always chooses for us.   But we always have the option of choosing against God.  When we do, bad things eventually result.

The verse from Joshua quoted above begins,  “Now if you are unwilling to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve…”   In other words, you have two choices:  serve God or pick something else.   But the implication is that the “something else” never measures up.  Not even close.   Peter essentially says the same thing when Jesus asked the disciples if they are going to walk away like others have,   “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life…”  (6:68) What choice is there really? Peter says.  Joshua bases his choice on all that God has done for the Hebrew slaves in the Exodus.   Peter bases his choice on all his experiences with Jesus.   We base our choice on an empty tomb.   We are free to pick something else to base our life upon… but, as people of the Resurrection, why would we?

I can still succumb to the scourge of indecision sometimes. I have learned to embrace it as a gift – especially when I am helping people work through a conflict.  But, because I know God has chosen me, it makes it possible for me to choose God…  even on those days when my faith wavers with doubt and uncertainty.  Maybe especially on those days.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thank-you for reading.  This will be my last “On the Way” for a while.   Starting next week, I will be taking a three month sabbatical to do a little traveling, immerse myself in writing a book, relax and recharge.  My next “On the Way” will be for the First Sunday in Advent and will post on Friday, November 30.  Really.  It’s not that far away.   In the mean time, God bless you and keep you always! 

You Are What You Eat

John 6:51-58

“…unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.”  

--John 6:53

About a dozen years ago, I went to the doctor for my first physical in a long time.   After doing all the usual tests, poking, prodding, and examining, the doctor sat me down and said, “do you want to live long enough to see your daughter grow up?”  

I was shocked.  “Of course!”  

“Well, if you don’t do something to get your health under control…   you won’t.”  

It was like a slap in the face.  I was overweight, had high blood pressure, high blood sugar, high triglycerides, and cholesterol.  By pretty much every measure, I was a total wreck.   “What can I do?”  I asked.

“For starters,”  The doctor said kindly, “you need to change your diet and start exercising.”

It’s true:  “you are what you eat” and what I was eating was killing me.  Literally.

Over the next six months, I got serious about changing my diet and started exercising.  After a year, I had lost thirty pounds, and had my blood pressure, blood sugar and cholesterol under control.   

The doctor was shocked. “What did you do?”

I smiled.  “I just did what you said.”

He laughed.  “That’s amazing!  No one ever actually listens to me!”

You are what you eat. 

But that’s not only true of our physical selves.  It is also true of our spiritual selves.   The world offers all sorts of spiritual junk food that bloats us and doesn’t last.  Too often we stuff ourselves on things that will abandon us and ultimately let us down when the reality of death slaps us in the face.  I think that is what Jesus is trying to impress upon his listeners in this week’s text.   After Jesus feeds 5000 people with five loaves and two fish (John 6:9), the people are so impressed that they follow him around the Sea of Galilee.  But, when he sees them, he says to them,  “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves.” (6:26)   They wanted junk food.  Jesus was offering them so much more.

Loaves, you see, don’t last. Jesus does.

Jesus says we need to eat his flesh and blood in order to live.  This vivid language echoes the words Jesus spoke to his disciples when he shared his Last Supper with them.   Words he spoke on the night before he died for a starving world.  On the night before he offered his flesh and blood for the life of the world.    

As Christians, we need a steady diet of Jesus’ love, grace and forgiveness not only to survive, but to thrive in our lives.   These things come to us as pure gift.   But we dine on them through spiritual practices that have fed Christian faith and life down through the centuries: reading, reflecting and meditating upon God’s Word, and sharing in the sacraments of baptism and holy communion; through prayer, worship and the mutual support, encouragement and guidance of a community of faith.  Without these practices of faith, we starve.  

We are what we eat.  

So, come to the banquet! Eat and drink!  Let the Lord fill you with the food that will last…  forever.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading! 

Feeding the Deep Hunger

John 6:24-35

“I am the bread of life.  Whoever comes to me will never be hungry…”

This next week, I will be in Moshi, Tanzania for a summit between the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania (ELCT).  We have been planning this summit for almost two years and I am excited that it is almost here (though I am not at all excited about the long plane trip!)  The purpose of the summit is to talk together about how we walk with one another in mission and ministry in the years ahead.   I think we have a lot to learn from the ELCT!  The Tanzanian Lutheran church is one of the fastest growing Lutheran bodies in the world.  They now have more members than the ELCA. 

I often get asked how congregations can get their church to grow.  Frequently, those asking the question are looking for some magic formula for attracting people to their congregation.  (There is none.) The assumption is that if they just institute the right program, or offer the right kind of music, or provide some service to lure people through the doors, or create the right ad campaign, the church will grow.  If we could just pull off a “loaves and fishes” miracle or even just put on a great pot luck, maybe the crowds would flock to us like they did to Jesus.  But, Jesus says pretty clearly that the crowds and their full bellies completely missed the point. Jesus tells the people something much deeper is going on than the signs he is performing.  

So what’s the Tanzanian’s secret?

There is no secret. In my visits with our brothers and sisters in Tanzania, I have observed that they simply have a passion for Jesus that they just can’t hold in.  They understand people’s spirit-deep hunger and offer them the nourishing food of God’s healing grace, love, compassion and forgiveness.  Their passion for Jesus and his Gospel animates their lives, their vibrant worship, and their infectious faith.   They invite.  They serve. They care.  They invite some more.  They gather around Word and Sacrament in the open country under the bushes and rough built structures and stone and concrete churches.  (The gathering place is really irrelevant).  They care for their neighbors in need, no matter who they are (Lutherans or Pentecostals or Muslims or Traditionalists). Oh, and did I say that they keep inviting people to “come and see” this Jesus who has changed their lives?  

Can we get that passionate about our faith?  About our Lord?  About the love and grace we know through him?  Through the power of the Holy Spirit, I think we can.  We need to.  Because there are people all around us who are hungry, starving really, with a spirit-deep hunger.  

Jesus is still the bread of life.  He invites us to come and eat.  To taste and be satisfied.  To drink and have our deepest thirsts slaked.  That doesn’t mean life will be easy or perfect (life in Tanzania can be pretty hard). But it does mean that we will never have to face those challenges alone, and that ultimately the power of God’s abundant, eternal life will win out even over death itself.  

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Please pray for safe travels for all of us who are making the trip to the summit in the next days, and for the Spirit to bless our conversations, help us discern what is good and true and guide us as we make decisions about stepping into the future God has prepared for our two church bodies.   Thanks for reading.

Ministries of Loaves and Fishes

John 6:1-21

“…But what are they among so many people?”  – John 6:9

Here in the Arkansas-Oklahoma Synod we like to say that we are a “small but scrappy synod.”  It is true, we are a small synod mostly made up of small congregations.  With just 53 congregations and ministries, we are the 4^thsmallest synod in the Evangelical Church in America.  Over 60% of our congregations have less than 50 baptized members.  All totaled, there about 7800 ELCA Lutherans in our synod.   We make up less than .01% of the population of the states where we live and serve. Small.  Yes.    Many would see that as a disadvantage.  I don’t. Though it is true that being small has its challenges.  But, time and again, God has proven very handy at using that which, by the world’s standards, doesn’t look like very much.   

God is particularly good at working with small.  God takes Abraham and Sarah and through them brings a blessing to the whole world.  God takes David, a young shepherd boy, from tending the flocks and makes him a great king.  God takes Amos, a simple tender of sycamore trees and sends him to speak truth to power.   Jesus takes twelve guys and a handful of women and changes an empire.  God doesn’t enter the world in a palace or in the form of the powerful and privileged.  God comes into the world as a baby born in a barn and redeems the world by dying as a condemned man on a cross.

I spend a lot of my time working with our smallest congregations.  Together, we talk about what God might do with exactly who they are.  We pray about how God, through the Holy Spirit, can take the five loaves and two fish they offer and do miracles with them.   Sure, they might not be able to do everything the mega-church down the block can do…  but they can still live out the Gospel and proclaim the love of God in word and deed with whatever gifts they have to offer.   And, they do.  I’ve seen our small congregations ministering to kids at a bus stop, making quilts for people in need, offering their community a place to gather for funerals and other events, serving a community meal, welcoming the homeless into their building, serving at the regional food bank, advocating for immigrants, and gathering weekly to praise and thank God around Word and Sacrament.   There is a lot of ministry going on in our scrappy little synod all the time!  Through these little communities of faith, God continues to multiply God’s grace over and over again, feeding thousands upon thousands with God’s love, mercy, compassion and forgiveness. 

I think the same is true of us as individuals.   We can feel very insignificant in the face of everything that is going on in the world. Powerless.  Small.  But, God has blessed each of us as God has blessed us and daily opens up opportunities to share whatever we have and whatever we are with those around us.  Andrew thought the boy who offered his lunch was pretty insignificant.  But he offered his lunch.  That’s what mattered.  And then, Jesus did wonders with it.   I believe Jesus can do the same with us today.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

As always, thanks for reading my weekly offering of words.  What loaves and fishes do you have to offer? 

Searching for the Deserted Place

Mark 6:30-34

“Come away to a deserted place…”   -Mark 6:31

I’ve had a busy month.  July started with the ELCA Youth Gathering in Houston.  30,000+ high school youth, their adult leaders and others gathered for worship, speakers, service, experiential learning and the opportunity to mix and mingle with people from across the country and around the world.  It was an amazing, uplifting experience!  I just finished a week orienting our newest bishops. Another great experience which reminded me again that God continues to lift up gifted and diverse leaders for God’s Church.  In just sixteen days, I’ll be going to Africa to participate in a three day summit between the ELCA and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania (ELCT).  The ELCT is one of the fastest growing Lutheran churches on the planet.  We have a lot to learn from them!  In between all this, there is the usual round of meetings, activities, events, worship services, visits, phone calls, emails and conversations that is the daily fare of my ministry as the pastor and bishop of the Arkansas-Oklahoma Synod. 

“Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves…” --Mark 6:31

A frantically paced life is not unusual these days.  I frequently meet people who are overwhelmed, or nearly overwhelmed with everything that is going on in their worlds.  I’m not exactly sure what ever happened to the “lazy, hazy days of summer”!  On my recent trip home from Chicago, I stopped at a “Rest Area” on the interstate and wondered at the busy-ness of the place!  Hurrying toward her car, a mother called her daughter from the playground,  “Come on! We need to get going!”   Keeping up with Facebook posts and other social media, the never-ending stream of news, the swirl of world events and the constant change can feel like we’ve been tossed into a raging river.   It seems that, often, every moment of our personal lives is filled with something: work, health concerns, bills to pay, family concerns, appointments to keep, friendships to tend, shopping to get done and on and on.

“Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.”  --Mark 6:31

Jesus’ invitation is a beautiful thought.  Isn’t it? To go out to a quiet place and just sit?  To escape the busy-ness, even for a minute or two?  Right.  It didn’t work for Jesus and his disciples either.  

I think the promise for us in this midst of this not-so-promising text comes in the very last line.  “As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them…”   Jesus doesn’t abandon us to our busy-ness.  He steps into the fray with compassion and love and life.   He walks with us, shepherding us and teaching us and healing us, even when we cannot see or feel it clearly in the blur of our lives.  It’s true, we may not always be able to find the deserted, lonely place in our lives, but we are never deserted and we are never alone. Never.  And that’s a promise we can rest in.  Even on our busiest days.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for taking a few moments out of your busy lives to read this week’s “On the Way.”  

The Barricade Maze

Mark 6:1-13

“Shake off the dust that is on your feet…”  --Mark 6:11

It was late.  I was headed across Chicago to my hotel on the west side of the city when I came to a place marked with orange cones, flashing lights and barricades.   I turned right as the detour sign suggested.  The road split.  There was no sign so I had no idea which way to go.  I picked the right path and soon ran into another set of barricades, orange cones and flashing lights.  Cursing under my breath, I turned again and worked my way through a dimly lit neighborhood, guessing which way to go.   More cones.  I turned again and wound up right back where I started!  More grumbling.  This time around I took the left path.  Same result.  After running up against more barriers I wound up back at the beginning.  I thought I had fallen into the Twilight Zone.

In the course of his ministry, Jesus regularly ran into barriers that got in the way of his mission. In this week’s Gospel it is his own hometown crowd that can’t see past the boy they remembered running around the carpenter’s shop to believe in him.   He warns the disciples that they too would run into barriers as they continued Jesus’ work of calling people back to God and healing and freeing them from the demons that possessed them.  

Ministry is not always easy work.  (That’s an understatement.)  Barriers abound.  Sometimes those barriers come from the outside, but sometimes our own human foibles block our best intentions.  Within the life of the church, our biggest barriers often seem to be of our own making.  Fear, finances,  fatigue and fondness can keep us from stepping out in faith.   A sense of scarcity can shackle us and keep us from taking risks, and trying new things. Our fondness for the way things are can keep us from making necessary changes.  Grief and sadness over a perceived loss of the past can leave us with little energy to engage the present or step into an unknown future.  In the end, we can feel like I felt that night in Chicago: going round and round and always winding up back in the same place.

In his hometown, Jesus persevered and managed to heal a few sick people in spite of the barriers.  He suggested that, when barriers arose, the disciples should knock the dust from their rejected feet and carry on.  They did and returned to report all that they accomplished.   In the Gospel of John, Jesus promises that the Holy Spirit will help us work over, through, around and maybe even sometimes with the barriers that get in the way of ministry.  That promise is still ours today.

I managed to escape that barricade maze in Chicago on my third try.  Not sure exactly how.  Somewhere along the line I must have made a left instead of a right or maybe it was the other way around.   But, when I finally got back to the main street,  I breathed a huge sigh of relief and continued on my way.   That is, until a few blocks later when the next set of orange cones, flashing lights and barriers got in my way.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading.  May the Spirit always guide you as you seek to do God’s work in the context of your life!  

Peace for Stormy Days

Mark 4:35-41

Jesus woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!”  --Mark 4:39

Last August, during the ELCA Rostered Ministers’ Gathering in Atlanta, I had the opportunity to visit the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library.  I was in high school when Carter was president.   Today, almost forty years later, I can see retirement looming on the distant horizon.  But, as I toured the museum, I came to the sobering realization that, even after all those years, we are still wrestling with many of the same issues, concerns and challenges we were facing then.  

On Tuesday, our synod “Building Bridges” group met to preview “I Am Not Your Negro,” a powerful film based on the writing of James Baldwin reflecting on the murders of Medgar Evers, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr.  When we finished watching the film, I had the same feeling I did at the Carter Library: sadly, not much has changed.  The film does a masterful job of connecting the civil rights movement in the middle of the 20^thcentury with what is currently going on in our nation.  Racism and the racist systems that support it are alive and well, even after more than fifty years of work and effort to address this evil in our land.  

This past week, the ongoing debates over immigration, the specific issue of family separation and the scenes of small children in detention centers surrounded by chain link fencing have swirled around us.  These issues are complex and elicit strong feelings across the spectrum of opinions on the subject.   As people of faith, I wonder, how can we respond to these issues based on the law of love?  (Romans 13:10)  I wonder, how can we work together --  Republicans, Democrats and Independents -- to address these complexities constructively and compassionately rather than just digging in and vilifying those who see things differently? 

Again, I see that not much has changed.  My own family fled Europe in the early 19^thcentury and immigrated to this country as stowaways.  People have been fleeing oppression and violence for millennia.  Welcoming the stranger and foreigner is one of the bedrock themes of the scriptures.  Perhaps the reason it comes up so frequently is that, even then, people weren’t as welcoming as they could or should be?

   

This week, I can really relate to the writer of Ecclesiastes who bemoans the fact that, despite our best efforts, things never seem to change.  There, the Teacher says,  “What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun.”  (1:9)  It’s a depressing thought.

All these things have been tossing around in my head as I have reflected on this week’s text.  As always, the storms still swirl and the waves crash and the wind howls all around us as we huddle in our little boats on an angry sea.  Like those who came before us, many wonder where God is in all this.  Is our Lord still asleep on the cushion?  Does Jesus even care that so many people are perishing?

But, Psalm 46 begins, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.  Therefore we will not fear…”  Toward the end of the Psalm it reads, “Be still, and know that I am God.”    In the midst of the stormy sea, Jesus rebukes the wind and says “Peace!  Be still!” and then says to the huddled disciples, “Are you afraid?  Have you still no faith?”  I think Jesus would say the same thing to us in the midst of the storms that always seem to swirl around our lives.

Resting in the peace which is Christ can sustain us in the midst of the storms.  But, resting in the peace of Christ does not mean putting our head in the sand.  It means putting our trust in the God who loves us and cares for us enough to become one of us, die for us and rise again on the third day.   It means doing our level best to love as Jesus loved, and to care like Jesus cared and to work for healing, reconciliation and peace any way we can in the midst of a world that is filled with brokenness and probably always will be.  It means re-anchoring ourselves in the faith which sustains us, and shapes us and guides us through listening prayer and the study of the scriptures, in worship, confession and forgiveness, and by walking with one another in the fellowship the Gospel -- even when we disagree.  

To love God, love one another and love our neighbor as ourselves is the mandate of the scriptures. That has not and never will change, because the love of God for us never changes.   In that promise, I find hope and comfort in the midst of issues and concerns and problems and challenges that never seem to go away.  In that promise, I find the will to continue, knowing that the strength to do so does not ever come from me…  but from the One who created and claimed me, through Jesus Christ my Lord.

Peace,

Bishop Mike   

Thank you for reading.

Doesn't Look Like Much

Mark 4:30-32

“It is like a mustard seed…”   --Mark 4:31

One of my favorite Dr. Seuss books is Horton Hears a Who.  Do you know the story?  Horton, an elephant with big elephant ears, can hear voices -- a whole civilization -- coming from a dust speck on a small flower.  No one else can hear it and they think he’s crazy. Horton convinces the Whovians on the dust speck to make noise so that they can be heard, but it doesn’t work. Finally, the smallest Who with the tiniest voice, climbs to the very top of the pile of shouting Who’s and this smallest of voices proves enough to break through and be heard.

The point is, of course, that even the smallest voice matters.  In fact, it can make all the difference.

Jesus uses a tiny mustard seed to make a similar point about the Reign of God.  He says this tiniest of seeds grows into a great bush capable of providing homes for the birds.  At first glance, the Reign of God may not look like much and many may not even be able to perceive it but, watch out!  Once it starts growing…!   

I’ve spent the last couple of days examining our congregational statistical reports for the past year.  It was a sobering exercise.  The decline in our congregations in the Arkansas-Oklahoma Synod continues, if a bit slowed.  We are a synod of small churches.  53% of our congregations have less than one hundred members.  Our small congregations struggle with the realities of their diminutive size every day.   It can seem pretty bleak sometimes!  But, most of the time, I see a different picture. I see a pile of mustard seeds with the potential to sprout.  I see evidence of the Reign of God.  I see the smallest of the Who’s adding their voices to the cacophony of the heavenly chorus of the faithful.

Around here, we like to say we are a “small scrappy synod.”   Even our smallest churches are doing God’s Gospel Work.  Not just caring for their small communities of faith gathered around Word and  Sacrament -- which they do -- but they are also engaged in the communities that surround them (or in the nearby communities for those out in the countryside).   They are mustard seeds sprouting.   They might not look like much, and maybe, by the world’s standards, they aren’t.  But in God’s eyes they are precious and full of possibilities for sharing God’s life and love with the world.

Jesus started his movement with a rag-tag band of guys and a handful of women.  They didn’t look like much.  But, empowered by his Spirit, they changed the world.  Mustard seeds of the Reign of God.  That same Spirit can use mustard seeds like us too – whether we are in a small church or a mega ministry --  to share God’s love and grace with those around us and with those far off.  That same Spirit can cause us to sprout and grow into great bushes capable of doing stunning work, sometimes in tiny, almost imperceptible ways, all in Jesus’ name.   

Sometimes it takes the smallest of voices to break through the din of the world!   I hope and pray that you are adding yours to the sound.  Who knows who might hear?

Peace,

Bishop Mike

PS:  The photo is of a small container of mustard seeds I’ve carried around with me for decades.  It reminds me of Jesus’ words on days I’m feeling kind of small and insignificant.  Thanks for reading.

He Did It! She Did It!

Genesis 3:8-15 / Mark 3:20-35

[The Lord God said,] “Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?”  --Genesis 3:11

The two children stood in the living room, guilt written all over their faces.  The potted plant, no longer potted, lay in a heap of soil and broken ceramic on the shag carpet.  A Nerf Frisbee lay a few feet away.  Their mother, hands on her hips, stared down at them, anger written on her face. “Who did this?”  She demanded.  The brother pointed at the sister.  “She did it!”  The sister pointed at the brother.  “HE did it!” Then, both in chorus, “It was the DOG!!!”

Sound familiar?  

Most of us probably remember not owning up to a mistake, or worse, trying to cast the blame on someone else at some point in our childhood.  This propensity for shirking responsibility appears to be written into the very fabric of our human nature. At least that’s what Genesis suggests.   Adam blames Eve.  Eve blames the snake.  But, God sees through it all and holds everyone responsible and everyone pays a price.

Unfortunately, our all too human tendency to cast blame and avoid responsibility has a bad habit of following us into adulthood.   A corollary to this tendency is our insatiable need to find cause (and any cause but ourselves) when things don’t go well in our lives.  We need to understand why things happen, find reasons, and find someone to blame in the midst of suffering, or tragedy or crisis or just plain bad luck.  (Of course, this tendency to search for the “why” of things has also led us to great scientific discoveries, advances in technology and medicine and a greater understanding of history and human society.)

In this week’s Gospel Lesson,  everyone seems to be trying to figure out why Jesus can do the things he is doing.  His family blames madness.  The scribes blame Satan.  The curious crowds credit Jesus’ unique authority and are so fascinated by it they won’t even let Jesus eat!   Even the disciples seem baffled by Jesus at times.

But we know.  Don’t we?  Or do we?  

As people of faith, we say we trust Jesus is the One who heals with the power of God’s Spirit.  We trust that Jesus is the One who embodies God’s love, and grace and forgiveness in flesh and blood for us and for the sake of the world.  We trust that Jesus is the One who was willing to take the blame, all the blame, and nail it to a cross.   But do we really LIVE like we trust these affirmations?

In Jesus, we find freedom from the guilt and shame we carry from all the broken pots we’ve left on the shag carpets in our lives.   But this is not a freedom FROM, it is a freedom FOR.   It gives us the ability to take the responsibility God has given us, look our shortcomings and mistakes and failures squarely in the eye and learn from them, and to live our lives, not by blaming others for the state of the world, but by partnering with others through the Holy Spirit to continue Jesus’ work of the healing of the world.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

I pray that we all learn to bring all our differences to the table and learn how to use them for the sake of the world!  Thanks, as always, for reading.  If you found this helpful, thought provoking, or mildly interesting, please feel free to pass it along.