Friday, August 10, 2007

New Issue of "Cafe" - Addiction Transfer


There's a new issue of "Cafe: Stirring the Spirit Within" - the e-zine of Women of the ELCA. This issue is about addiction and fear - and how both can take over a person's life - especially when there's more than one addiction going on at one time. I encourage you to read it and pass it on. You can also subscribe to "Cafe," and then you'll get an email each time a new issue is available.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Thank You John and Rose




In my June 30 blog, entitled “Sacred Place: Our Cabin” I began with the following quote from Lawrence Kushner, found in Belden Lane’s book on p. 37:

"The memories of a place become a part of it. Places and things
never forget what they have been witnesses to and vehicles of
and entrances for. What has happened there happened
nowhere else. Like ghosts who can neither forget what they
have seen nor leave where they saw it, such are the memories
tied to places of ascent."

If you ever watch the television show, “Without a Trace,” you will often see images of people in the past as they are envisioned from the present--what they did or said in a certain place. I believe literary people call this “magic realism.” Whatever you term it, I have certainly experienced it. Let me tell you about some of the people I can see in this cabin.

The first is John Marjamaa, a Finnish homesteader who came to the Americas soon after the turn of the 20th century. In 1905 he began to cut the white and Norway pine he found on this property, and out of those logs built the log cabin that serves as our living and dining room.

Then he sent for Rose, who arrived from Finland and became his wife. On the front wall of the living room, beside the tall, stone fireplace, I can see the marking in the wood where the stairway ran upstairs in this once one-room house. Up there John and Rose and some 10 or so children slept. Several of those children have stopped by over the years to see the property and fill us in on the fascinating history.

John raised dairy cattle, and kept chickens. Rose was a midwife and had gifts in nursing. They raised a bountiful garden and kept the grounds immaculate and beautiful. They dug out a cavity in the earth that served as their refrigerator. They were generous people, always welcoming anyone who needed a meal.

Of course, the log sauna that still sits down the hill behind our cabin was a favorite place. Family and friends would take a steaming sauna and then run down the hill and jump into the Blueberry River. In the winter they would just roll in the snow.

I often picture John and Rose and their children in this place. John died in 1953, and was buried in Green Valley Cemetery a quarter mile down the road. I picture Rose and the children returning to this cabin after the funeral. Friends gather to console them, but their hearts are broken.

A year later one of their sons would die, at the age of 44. He is buried next to John. Again Rose would return to this cabin in grief, wondering how her life could change so quickly. And then, just two years later, she would die. I picture the children coming home to gather what they wanted to keep, and then selling this cabin and saying goodbye to it.

I have now lived here long enough that I can practice my magic realism in reference to my own life, aided by the many pictures I have taken over the years.

I can see little Brian sitting on the floor, playing with his toys. I see him in the kitchen in his high chair, with oatmeal all over his face (and on the floor.) I see Jessica as a baby, brought to this holy place for the first time. I see the children holding fish we had caught in Blueberry Lake and Brian and I hitting golf balls on the makeshift driving range we made in the back meadow. I see Brian pitching a softball-sized whiffle ball to Jessica who is trying to hit it with a large red bat. He fakes a fast ball, and then lobs in a slow pitch, to which she states emphatically: “Brian. Don’t joke with me!”

I see Brian, about age 8, arriving at the cabin after we had talked about my first wife on the way out, saying to me, “Dad, I’m not glad your first wife died. But if she hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

I remember one Thanksgiving (it was our tradition to come here after dinner with Mary’s parents and then cut a pine to take home to Fargo for Christmas) when Jessica was extremely tired. We teased her about her difficulty walking through the snow in the meadow out back. A few days later, back in Fargo, we found out why. She was diagnosed early that December with diabetes.

And then there are the nearly endless memories of people who have passed through this place: my staff at Peace Lutheran in Fargo, members of the Synod Hunger and Justice Committee, many friends, and most of our family. Many of them are gone now, having transcended this world as they moved on to their own sacred place.

When my father died when I was 15, every night I would go outside in our back yard right before going to bed, and look up at the stars. A prayer arose from my sighing chest, expressing the loneliness and melancholy I felt, yet also the blessing and joy in knowing how much my father loved me.

When I am alone in this cabin, and light gives way to evening, I often feel the same way. I remember all who have passed through here. I give thanks for John and Rose and the spirit they gave to this holy place. I feel overwhelmed by the blessings I have received from Mary, Brian, Jessica and so many family members and friends.

This final picture captures my feelings as I end my sabbatical and leave this place. This road passes by Green Valley Cemetery. The morning fog blocks a clear view of what the future holds. But I am able to trust the goodness of that future because of all the people, some I have met, and some I have not, who have blessed my life, and because of our Lord who beckons us to go forth into the unknown future, trusting that he will always be there along the way.

Monday, August 6, 2007

The Marks of Discipleship



One of the resources I plan to use in the Discipleship University is a book by Michael W. Foss, who until recently was Senior Pastor of Prince of Peace Lutheran Church in Burnsville, Minn. Entitled Real Faith for Real Life: Living the Six Marks of Discipleship, Foss details the aspects of following Jesus in daily life utilized at Prince of Peace. I have developed my own titles, but they basically coincide with the marks he lists.

Passionate Prayer: There are many kinds and a ways of praying, but the goal is to make prayer a daily part of our lives. My goal is to tie this into a wider consideration of Spirituality, utilizing our Spiritual Direction Pastor, Scott Haasarud, as a resource in this area.

Faithful Worship: The goal is weekly worship, as we receive the Means of Grace through Word, Sacrament, and the Body of Christ Gathered, and open ourselves to the ongoing gift of revelation and strengthening from God.

Searching Scripture: The goal is daily Bible reading. This includes the devotional reading of the Bible by individuals, as well as encouragement to be in some kind of group Bible study.

Gift-Based Serving: Our lives are given deep meaning as we follow Christ in a life of loving service to others, both inside and outside our congregations. The goal is regular involvement in some kind of serving mission that is based not so much on the needs of the church or others, but on the gifts God has given us.

Reconciling Relationships: This area of discipleship focuses on all of our relationships: marriage, parenting, family, friendship, the body of Christ, and those outside the church (evangelism). A goal here is to participate in some kind of a Small Group that strengthens our faith as we bear one another’s burdens and share our faith.

Generous Giving: The goal is Growth Giving leading to Tithing, as well as discovering the great joy that comes with generously sharing not only the resources with which we have been blessed, but our love and care for others.

In addition to these six basic marks of discipleship, there are other dimensions I intend to include in the Discipleship University that would take one even deeper into faith and discipleship. If the above is Discipleship 101, the following would be Discipleship 202.

In addition to reading the Bible on a daily basis, and participating in a Bible study, brief courses would be offered on Biblical Interpretation (how we go about relating what the Bible says to the world today), Biblical Ethics, Theological Themes of the Old and New Testament, Principles of Lutheran Theology, Witness and Evangelism, and the relation of Church to World (politics, economics, development, etc.). This would also include a study of our church’s Social Statements.

This level would also include an experiential dimension, such as participating in a workshop on diversity and multiculturalism, going on a mission trip, or participating in a weekend retreat on such topics as spirituality, evangelism, or peacemaking.

The overall goal is a deepening of faith, a life of greater meaning and purpose, and the sending forth of compassionate disciples into a world longing for love, hope, healing, and significance.

Sunday, August 5, 2007

ELCA Churchwide Assembly


The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America has three expressions: congregations, synods, and churchwide, and this week in Chicago there is a churchwide assembly - the highest legislative body in our denomination. I plan to keep tabs on what's going on, both in terms of worship, education, and assembly action, through the assembly website. You can learn more about the Churchwide Assembly, too, and watch live webcasts, by clicking on this link to the action.


Please keep the voting members of the assembly and all the participants in your prayers this week - for safe travel to and from Chicago, for Spirit-filled worship and learning, and Spirit-guided discernment and action.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Discipleship and Mission



As I transition out of sabbatical and back to the parish, I am focusing on where we are going as a congregation, and the way we are planning to get there. This spring we completed a long range plan, which is built primarily around two concepts: Discipleship and Mission. This contrasts with what has tended to shape congregations the past few decades: Membership and Maintenance. (For example, see Michael Foss, Power Surge). The latter begins inside the church and stays there. Membership means I get certain benefits, and the task of the congregation is to maintain and improve those benefits. The former looks inward toward a deepening spirituality, but then goes outwards as one follows Christ in a life of discipleship geared to mission in the world.

Perhaps no one has written more profoundly about the call to discipleship than Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German Lutheran theologian and pastor who, because he believed following Jesus meant opposing Hitler, lost his life in 1945 in a German concentration camp at the age of 39.

In his book, The Cost of Discipleship, Bonhoeffer distinguishes between what he calls “cheap grace” and “costly grace.” Cheap grace is “the justification of sin without the justification of the repentant sinner who departs from sin. . . . . Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.” [p. 36]

In contrast, of “costly grace” he writes: “Happy are they who, knowing that grace, can live in the world without being of it, who, by following Jesus Christ, are so assured of their heavenly citizenship that they are truly free to live their lives in this world. Happy are they who know that discipleship simply means the life which springs from grace, and that grace simply means discipleship.” [p. 47]

Bonhoeffer then goes on to talk of the relationship of faith and belief to following and discipleship. He writes, in reference to Jesus calling Matthew in Mark 2:14:

“The call goes forth, and is at once followed by the response of obedience. The response of the disciples is an act of obedience, not a confession of faith in Jesus.” [p. 48] Faith and obedience must always be kept together. “Only the obedient believe. Without this preliminary step of obedience, our faith will only be pious humbug, and lead us to the grace which is not costly. Everything depends on the first step. . . . . . Only this new existence, created through obedience, can make faith possible.” [P. 55]

Years ago I read a fascinating article by Earnest T. Campbell, former Senior Minister at Riverside Church in New York City, entitled “Do You Believe in Christ or Are You Following Jesus?” He points out that over the decades of his life in the church he had often been asked if be believed in Christ, but never if he was following Jesus. At the end of the article he states that the two do need to be kept together, but that it is possible to believe without following, but not possible to follow without believing.

This is the theological goal of the Discipleship University that I am in the process of creating for Shepherd of the Valley. This university will include both study and action as we attempt to hold faith and following together, but move the stress toward what it means to be a disciple in the world today as that dimension has often been neglected. Stressing discipleship will not only greatly enrich our lives and strengthen our faith, but it will lead to a life-giving mission to the world and our communities sorely needed. Once again ethics will become paramount as we precede action by first asking what God is calling us to do.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

An Inner Desert (Being Open to God’s Will)



Desert of the Navajo Nation in Arizona


One of the things I learned from Juan Luis Segundo, in his book The Liberation of Theology, is that one of the great difficulties of living an authentic and meaningful life is that we are never able to bring pure questions about our lives to God, to Scripture, to others.
From the time we are born we are constantly being fed “ideology,” which is defined by Mirriam-Webster as “a systematic body of concepts especially about human life or culture.” Thus we never are able to raise our questions in a “pure” form, because we already come with our various ideologies, which, as Segundo points out, have a way of “hiding reality.”

The summer after my freshman year in college I spent a month hitch-hiking around Europe. Like nearly all Americans I had been raised to believe we were the greatest nation made up of the most knowledgeable and intelligent people. I soon found that many Europeans knew a lot more about the world than I did, and they didn’t think our nation was doing the right thing by fighting the war in Vietnam.

By the time we are able to vote we have already been exposed to countless political ideologies from our parents, community, and the media. By the time we are able to read the Bible we have already been told hundreds of things we are supposed to believe about God, life, and the world. By the time we are old enough to try to decide what we should do with our lives vocationally, we have already been told thousands of times what we are good at and what we aren’t, what jobs make money and which ones don’t, what kinds of work are prestigious and which aren’t, and, more than likely, exactly what others close to us think we should do.

The same applies to the two most meaningful questions a human being can ask. First, who is God, what is God like, and what is my relationship to God to be? Secondly, how should I live my life in terms of what I do, what I support, what I work for, what I give myself to?

This is why apophatic spirituality is so important. The first step of it is emptying, of entering the desert by relinquishing as much as we humanly can all our images and concepts of God, all of the ideology we carry within us about the meaning of life. In the words of Lane, we try to become an “inner desert.” “To become an inner desert is to abandon the rampant race of thoughts, feelings, and worries that continually distract the soul from attentiveness to God.” [p. 12] The Scriptures talk about “kenosis,” which comes from the Greek and means “self-emptying” or “purging,” as Jesus emptied himself of the attributes of God in becoming human. [Philippians 2:5-11]

What is it about our human nature that leads us to think everything is set? Most people, if asked, would say, this is what God is like, this is what my relationship to God is like, and this is what I am doing with my life. But that is not what relationships are like. It is not what life is like.

My wife is different now than she was 10 years ago, let alone the nearly 25 years ago when we were married. My children are changing all the time. I could not have a meaningful relationship with my kids or wife if I assumed they were never going to change. For that matter, I am changing all the time myself, which only complicates matters even more.

To have a meaningful and dynamic relationship with God means to be constantly emptying ourselves so that God can speak to us anew. The same goes for our vocations and what we choose to do with our lives. If we are able to empty ourselves and open ourselves to God, we may just find that God has all kinds of exciting things for us to do in the world, and we may even find that God can open us to see the world in news ways. More than likely there are real faults with the ideologies with which we were raised, and the ideologies we have clung to since.

Lane talks about the difference between our jobs and our vocation. [pp. 80-81] Our jobs are what we are paid to do. Our vocation is what God is calling us to do. If we are fortunate, the two may overlap, but they will never be identical, and, for many people, they are far apart. The spiritual question tries to go deeper, and constantly wants to know what God might be calling us to do in the present. This will have to do with not only how we spend our time and exert our energy and love, but also with what causes we support in the social, political, and economic world. If we remain open to God, even out politics may change, hard as that may be to believe. The quest for truth should never be abandoned, and will not be by the one able to become an inner desert as one opens oneself up to the mountaintop revelations God seeks to give us.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

God and Golf



My son, Brian, at Blueberry Pines Golf Course


People like to make fun of golf. You know, chasing a little white ball around a pasture. Or, as Mark Twain once said, “a good walk spoiled.” Or, like my stepmother used to say (and, by the way, this is more or less true), golfers spend an hour talking about the round they plan to play, four and half hours playing it, and then two hours talking about it afterwards and planning for the next round.
One of my favorite comments came from a friend, an avid fisherman, who, when asked why he doesn’t golf anymore, said, “It takes too much time.”

So the idea that golf and one’s spiritual journey would have anything to do with each other, well . . . . I am sure that would seem a bit far-fetched to many. And yet, on my sabbatical, I brought along three books on the topic: M. Scott Peck’s (the psychiatrist who wrote the best-selling psychological book of all time, The Road Less Traveled) Golf and the Spirit, Michael Murphy’s Golf in the Kingdom, and Roland Merullo’s Golfing with God.

Peck, who took up golf as an adult, and came to love it more than any other sport, writes:

"Sooner or later golfers who stick with the game long enough
will almost always come to see it as a metaphor for life. . . .
I would go even further and say that, in its own way, golf is
life, and not only that, but “life condensed.” If we choose to
use it as such, I believe that golf, next to marriage and parent-
hood, can routinely be the greatest of life’s learning oppor-
tunities." [p. 61]

Peck designs an imaginary 18 hole golf course, each of which is a chapter in the book. His purpose, as he states on p. 311, is not to worship golf, but to use it as a way to talk about both our psychological growth and our spiritual journey. In the “course” of the book he deals with anger, fear, hazards in life, luck, humiliation, mentoring, character flaws, honesty, self-confidence, perfection, human nature, paradox, civility, competition, power, freedom, beauty, gratitude, grace and many other themes.

Murphy, in his novel set in Scotland, the home of golf, takes on many of the same themes. For example, one of his characters states,

"Gowf is a way o’ makin’ a man naked. . . . . Ye talk about yer
body language, yer style o’ projectin’, yer rationalizashin’, yer
excuses, lies, cheatin’ roonds, incredible stories, failures of
character---why, there’s no place to match it." [p. 45]

Having played golf since I was a child, along with just about every other sport, all of which can teach us about life, I have come to see the unique ways in which golf is a teacher, for better or worse. Every course is different, which brings both beauty and challenges.
In the course of a round you will likely deal with so many of the emotions of life. You will fail, and feel anger and frustration. You will hit a nearly perfect shot, and feel on top of the world. You will be challenged to find joy no matter what the result.

I learned golf from my father, and I taught it to my son when he was five. My wedding gift to my wife was a set of golf clubs, and that seems to have done the trick. She took a hiatus when our children were young, but she is now back at it full steam. I have tried over the years to interest my daughter, but have not been successful, probably because she is so sick of hearing the rest of us talk about golf.

Two years after we bought our cabin a beautiful and challenging golf course was built five miles from our place, called Blueberry Pines. When we lived in Fargo we joined each summer and played most of our golf there. It has truly been a joy to be able to play there again this summer with my son and wife, although she has now returned to her work teaching.

We all continue to learn about life, and each other, as we play.
Most painful of all is learning about yourself. There is no more humiliating teacher, and no more ecstatic athletic experience than those perfect shots we each sometimes hit.

But, best of all, is walking down the 18th fairway with my son, along the Blueberry Creek, among the beautiful Norway pines, with the sun setting orange and red behind us, making the green of the fairways and greens even deeper in hue. I love the game, but I love even more playing it with those I love.