Month: March 2021

 

But their minds were hardened.  For to this day, when they read the old covenant, that same veil remains unlifted, because only through Christ is it taken away.

2 Corinthians 3:14

For the first time in many years, I did not prepare myself for Lent.  When the call for devotions went out, I felt myself unprepared and felt that the theme was not leading me to the usual inspiration I had felt in the past.  I wondered what I could say, and never answered the call.  Then I was asked again, in a different fashion, and I realized that this was God calling to me to look at why I was resisting.

I realize that my hesitancy was because my own self-reflection on the three words of our theme, POWER.  PRIVILEGE. PRESENCE., had come to a standstill.  After lifting the veil a little, I had let it fall over me again.

Over the past couple weeks, I heard multiple messages directed to me about not hiding my character and trusting in God to show me the way.  I realized that I had slowly been withdrawing from connection and returning to my old ways that led me down the road to being a child that caused my parents much grief, a self-centered husband, and a bad friend.  I know I have to continue the work I previously did, to purposely regrow those connections, and to continue my self-reflection.

Even though I feel unworthy now, I know, in the spirit of the Easter message, that there is hope for my salvation and transformation.  And so I pray…

God, continually renew my spirit so that I do not let the veil fall over me.  Help me to not rest on my laurels so that my mind hardens.  Remove from me the bondage of myself so that I may grow in your will and walk the path you have set before me. Amen.

- Joel Arnold ’97
Assistant Director of Data and Gift Processing

 

Not to be served but to serve

Jesus said, “It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

Matthew 20: 26-28 

What makes one great in today’s context? The number of viewers to a post in social media?  The number of likes for a video on Facebook? The number of followers on Twitter or Instagram? Jesus had no clue about the present day social media but he had a great insight about service to neighbors.  For Jesus, greatness is not to be served by others but serving others with love. A friend of mine used to work as a waiter in a restaurant. She told me the reason for that is when she was a child, she enjoyed going to a restaurant for dinners with her mom, dad and siblings. It was a joyous time for her. During her college, she waited on the tables as a waiter to serve families and see their smiles. Jesus said, “whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” Jesus set himself as an example to teach his disciples to serve not to be served. He helped them serve people food when people were hungry, he washed their feet, and he was on watch when they were resting.

Once a young person came to Jesus. He was a rich man. He asked Jesus “What must I do to inherit the kingdom of heaven?”  Jesus reminded him of the law to love God and love neighbors. The young person replied, I have been doing this since my childhood. “Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions. (Mark 10:21-22).  As we continue reflecting on Power, Privilege, and Presence, may we see power in empowering others, may we give up privilege to make others privileged and may we be always present to serve those in need.

Gracious God, may we relinquish what we hold dear in our lives, in our hearts, and in our hands; and open our lives, our hearts, and our hands to serve one another. Amen.

- Moses Paul Penumaka, Th.D.
Director, Theological Education for Emerging Ministries [TEEM]

“Meanwhile a large crowd heard that Jesus was there and came to see not only Jesus, but also Lazarus, whom he raised from the dead. So the chief priests planned to kill Lazarus as well, since it was because of him that many of the people were leaving them and believing in Jesus.”

- John 12: 9-11, The Inclusive Bible

“Monday of Holy Week” is not a very catchy title. The other options, “The Day after Palm Sunday” and “Three Days before Maundy Thursday,” are equally unassuming. Unlike other days this holy week, today is not typically a day celebrated by the church with a liturgical gathering. While at first glimpse the day appears not to have much to offer, it’s worth a second look. The biblical reading assigned to “Holy Monday” in the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) includes three verses from the Bible that we would not encounter if our only entrée to the Bible were this three-year cycle. Today’s poignant gem is tucked into three verses (9-11) in the 12th chapter of the Gospel of John. Here’s what I learn today:

• To search for what is not immediately visible is to be present to the whole story.
• Only the privileged need not be bothered by the intricacies of narratives (“don’t bother me with the details”).
• Nascent power in the “stuff” around the edges and that which has gone hidden awaits.

Sleuthing for and discovering hidden details is worth the effort. Check it out: A guy gets raised from the dead and gets blamed for it. Really? Lazarus could not have finagled his way to new life. He was dead. Lazarus could not have finessed peoples’ allegiance away from the chief priests and toward Jesus. He was dead.

Those whose power was threatened could not be bothered with the detail of Lazarus’ lack of agency so they planned to kill him for his apparent “guilt by association” with the one who chooses life over death. “So the chief priests planned to kill Lazarus as well, since it was because of him that many of the people were leaving them and believing in Jesus.” This part of Lazarus’ story is like Holy Monday (and vice versa); there but unexplored—there but ignored.

On this Holy Monday I am reflecting on how I often miss these and other important details. How does my privilege keep me from paying attention to the important intricacies of peoples’ narratives?

Once I know, I cannot unknow. And so, on this Holy Monday, indeed, during this entire holy week’s dress rehearsal for this holy life, I pray I might

• defend what has been revealed.
• seek that which is still hidden.
• explore around the edges for what has yet to be exposed.

To do this alone would only reinforce privilege since perspective is always power-laden.

And so, I pray I might

• partner with others who defend, seek and explore.

Spoiler alert: Lazarus lives. Jesus doesn’t . . . at first.

Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on us. Amen.

- Rev. Dr. Shauna Hannan
Professor of Homiletics, Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary

 

- Joseph Castañeda Carrera
Lead Pastor, Adore LA
Assistant to the Bishop for Authentic Diversity and Ethnic-Specific Ministries, Southwest California Synod

 

In the discussion of power, privilege and place I am reminded that God is at work and play in the world bringing life out of death and senseless actions, and God uses us to bring change. We are called to work for peace and justice. The work in which we participate may be incomplete, but we trust God will bring it to completion.

A student at Luther Seminary, taking a cross cultural class in Mexico City, I was introduced to Archbishop Oscar Romero who was assassinated, forty-one years ago, March 24, 1980. Our group watched the movie Romero (you can watch it here). The movie of his life impacted my view of the world and church.

Romero was appointed Archbishop of San Salvador in 1977. He was considered a “safe” moderate choice by the Roman Catholic church. The Church was also caught up in the Cold War and wrestling with more or less radical liberation theologians and clergy who operated with a “preferential option for the poor” on one hand, and more conservative clergy who sought to support even oppressive governments for the sake of stability and not becoming Communist on the other. Romero was initially not trusted by the radicals, and the conservatives thought he would keep in step with the status quo.

Not long after he was appointed Archbishop, his Jesuit friend was murdered along with an elderly man and a 16 year old boy. Romero urged the government to investigate the crime, but they did nothing.

The Sunday following the murder, Romero canceled all of the masses in the archdiocese, and celebrated one single mass in the cathedral. Over 150 clergy and 100,000 people are estimated to have attended and heard Romero call for an end to the violence.

For the next three years, Romero was increasingly viewed as the “voice of the voiceless poor.” He broadcast his weekly sermons on the church’s radio station, and used that medium to list all of the disappearances, tortures, and murders that had taken place. These sermons became immensely popular in the countryside, and troubled those in power.

Romero’s sermons named the reality of violence in El Salvador and offered hope to the listeners. This preaching put his life at risk.

On March 24, 1980, Romero was celebrating a memorial mass at a small hospital chapel. The day before in his sermon he begged the enlisted men of the Salvadoran Army, to stop the killing. Some heard it as an invitation to mutiny. Near the end of his sermon a single shot rang out, and Archbishop Romero fell dead beside the altar. No one has ever been arrested for the crime. Most agree it was carried out by one of the government death squads.

He served almost three years as Archbishop and yet his work inspired many to action and offered hope for a better world. One that valued all people and voices.

Many of us wonder what we can do in our world. Romero spoke to “participation in a common life, the right and duty of all persons to participate in the construction of the common good” and that remains timely today because that idea that we can even agree on the common good seems pretty threadbare right now.

But Romero’s life, and other saints, remind us that we all have a role to play, and that we must play it fully and faithfully regardless of whether we can see the fruit of our labors or not.

There is a prayer attributed to Archbishop Romero, and interestingly no one ever heard him speak it. Regardless of its source, it encourages us to faithfully work for peace and justice and take the long view.

It helps now and then to step back and take a long view.

The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a fraction 

of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.

Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of

saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession

brings perfection, no pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.

No set of goals and objectives include everything.

This is what we are about. We plant the seeds that one

day will grow. We water the seeds already planted

knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.

We provide yeast that produces effects

far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of

liberation in realizing this.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning,

a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s

grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the

difference between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders, ministers, not

messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own. Amen.

- Bishop Deborah Hutterer
Regent and Convocator

When meeting and greeting others of the faith we often greet them with words that express God’s blessings in our lives no matter the circumstance we may be facing. This is especially true in the African Descent faith community.

“How are you doing? Oh, I am blessed.” Reminding each other that we are blessed and as well blessed to be a blessing to others. This always reminds us of how truly blessed we are just because Christ resides in our lives.

As we near the end of these pandemics of the past months we should take the time daily to count our blessings. We have weathered the storms of the COVID-19 health crisis, economic downturn resulting from the health crisis, and racial tension that left and still has us shattered and in tears. Through it all we have been, and others will be sustained by our faith. A visible witness amidst the storms of life, we are blessed to be a blessing. Daily devotions sustain this faith with and in the power of God’s Holy Spirit.

May God continue to bless you and strengthen you through your prayer life as you bless others through your actions and in prayer. Make this a better world as you put your daily devotions into action. I pray that you will make your own ”be a blessing action plan”. But here are a few suggestions to get you started:

• Open yourself up to others from different racial-ethnic backgrounds.

• Reach out to friends or relatives you have disconnected from due to past hurts.

• Volunteer with some organization that needs extra human support so very, very much to get their job done.

Whatever you do know that you are being a blessing to others. And God’s word is being fulfilled in your actions: My word will not return to me void If my people who are called by name will humble themselves and pray…I will hear from heaven and bless their land (2 Chronicles 7:1).

Love and blessings to all who read this and take it to heart by putting it into action. May this daily devotion be the start of your blessing plan.

A Daily Devotion

(Read Matthew 14:23)

(Morning)
Dear Jesus, because of all that I must do,
and all that lies before mew today, I kneel to you in prayer.

(Evening)

Dear Jesus, meet me. I am alone with you at last.

Redeeming God, seeking solitude was an important priority for Jesus. In solitude, the silence, we find you. Jesus always made room in his busy schedule to be alone with you in prayer. This time I spend alone with you in prayer is valuable. It is sacred time. It will help me grow spiritually in your grace as I become more and more like Christ.

(Morning)

Help me to be patient with others as you are with me.

When out of frustration I lose patience with another, remind me

Of the times when, like Peter, I have needed your patience.

(Prayers of Intercession)

(Evening)

Dear Jesus, thank you for your patience with me today.

(Prayers of Intercession)

As Jesus taught his disciples I pray.

(Pray the prayer of the Savior)

- Rev. Linda Boston MDiv ’92
Thriving Leadership Formation Cohort Leader

“So God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.”

– Genesis 1:27

I remember my high school religion teacher telling me about how she used to wonder what God looked like. She told me that as a kid, she had heard Genesis 1:27 and acknowledged that all of us were made in the image and likeness of God. Hearing this, her young self concluded that if we took this statement to be true, then it must follow that God looks like us. In her case, God looked like a young Black girl.

What a revolutionary concept. I remember taking this information and just sitting with it. It was a lot to take in not because God as a Black girl is radically different from the way we portray God now, but because I had never sat with how powerful the statement “we are all made in the image and likeness of God” actually is.

In this society, image is everything. What we look like often decides the levels of advantages and disadvantages we are able to enjoy/are faced with in this world. This “image” can refer to race, ethnicity, size, ability, etc. Although we are all said to be created in God’s image and likeness, we have somehow created a hierarchy where one image is deemed more preferable to the rest. This goes directly against the meaning of the statement that we are all made in God’s image and likeness. For isn’t God perfect? And are we not then all perfectly made?

I would like to challenge you to imagine God as something other than what you have traditionally imagined. Perhaps this change is a change in gender. Perhaps this change is a change in race. Perhaps God takes on ALL of those things that you look in the mirror and wish you could change about yourself. Would imagining this change in God change your perspective on who you deem to have the “perfect image”? Would it make you more accepting of the images of those who do not look like you? Would it make you more accepting of yourself?

I am not here to tell you what God looks like. All of this is simply to reinforce what we all need to embody. We have all been perfectly made in God’s image and likeness. Never let anyone (including yourself) tell you otherwise.
- Jesus Raya ’22
Cal Lutheran Student

In April 2015, Pope Francis gave a homily in St. Peter’s Basilica for Chrism Mass centered on three particular forms of weariness that can affect priests. Weary is such a weighty word. Tish Harrison Warren wrote, “It brings to mind heavy eyelids and aching joints, the worn out faces of those who have borne too much. To be truly weary is a state of both body and soul.” She goes on to say that, “We know the difference between the kind of gratifying tiredness that comes after a good day’s work and the burden of weariness, when the hardness of life settles on us thick and leaden. The book of Ecclesiastes names the latter the “weariness of the flesh” (Ecclesiastes 12:12). It comes with desolation, anxiety, and the deep sigh of despair.” Weariness when it cuts us to the core, reveals our truest, most fragile selves. And of course many of us are familiar with the idea that rest is for the weary, but what is rest? And how does this idea connect to the theme of power, privilege and presence?

The struggle to be seen, to be heard, and to gain a sense of belonging is constant for so many of us. And, at times, I become weary – siento agotada. Maybe you feel this too? Let’s turn for a moment to the Pope’s interpretation of this concept.

First, he talked about the weariness of the crowd, which he described as, “a good and healthy tiredness,” which is “the exhaustion of the priest who wears the smell of the sheep… but also smiles the smile of a father rejoicing in his children or grandchildren.” Certainly, I am not a priest, and yet this message of weariness speaks to me. As a university community, we tend to work in crowds – crowds of faculty, staff, and students, especially now that just about every meeting, class, and discussion is taking place on online platforms like zoom. We are constantly performing for the crowd. I don’t mean this in a pejorative way, just noting a reality that many of us feel that contributes to our sense of tiredness, cansansio.

The Pope goes on to discuss the weariness of enemies. In this context, I would like to talk about apathy, lack of understanding, and lack of motivation to understand as enemies of social justice. A particular danger, since, “The evil one is far more astute than we are, and he is able to demolish in a moment what it took us years of patience to build up, so that priests must take heart in the words of the Lord, “Have courage! I have overcome the world! (Jn. 16:33)”. Hay veces que siento aplastada bajo del peso de estos enemigos.

Then finally there is the weariness of oneself, he said, which arises when one loses sight of the truth that her work is – first and last – a labour of love, for which Pope Francis counsels, “Only love gives true rest.” But in this case, I do this work – the work to have voice and power – because I love myself, my family and my community. I don’t think any of us could have predicted in 2015 the level of weariness, of bone tired, of spiritual and emotional drain that many of us feel in 2021. But, for me, there is a lesson in the homily for our collective present.

We need to give each other the gift of acknowledging each others’ weariness, educate ourselves about each others’ struggles, and pursue the enemies of apathy, lack of understanding, and lack of motivation to understand as enemies of social justice. Be your own scorekeeper – are you living into your values? Have you put in the time and effort to move beyond hashtags and likes to substantive engagement? Only by putting in this work can we provide descanso y recuperación– true rest from weariness – to others batallando por power, privilege, and presence. When we rest, when we are restored, we can do our best, most powerful work.

- Dr. Jessica Lavariega Monforti
Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences

 

Let each of you lead the life to which God called you.

1 Corinthians 7:17

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus; it shall blossom abundantly and rejoice with joy and singing.

Isaiah 35:1

 This weekend marks the first day of spring.  I’m watching a tulip bulb growing each day and I think I’ll catch a glimpse of color soon, and the poppy seeds I scattered on a hot morning have bloomed to brighten rainy, pandemic days.

To welcome the first day of spring, many people will celebrate Nowruz this weekend.  Nowruz is observed in Iran, Afghanistan, Turkey, and many other places, and it’s celebrated by many of our neighbors in California.  Nowruz translates to “new day” – something to celebrate.

I first learned about Nowruz four years ago when I was invited to celebrate it with new friends.  They were all people from Afghanistan who had come to the United States as refugees.  I had met them not long before, when I felt angry and full of despair reading the news and reached out to a new organization in my community dedicated to supporting refugees.  “Can you drive?” the co-director asked me.  I could.  “Are you free tomorrow?”  I was.  So I drove to a neighboring city to pick up a woman I had never met and drive her and her three children to ESL class.  Doubts ran through my mind.  How was I going to find the right apartment?  How was I going to communicate with people who didn’t speak English when it was my only language?  How was I going to fit three car seats in the back of my little car?  But like I never had before, I felt God’s presence, there with me in my car on the freeway.  “Keep going,” he said.  “You’re doing what I want you to do right now.” 

I was greeted that day and many times more with three kisses, the custom in Afghanistan.  I wanted to offer welcome and I was welcomed.  I thank God for that day and all of the days it brought: joining in Iftar dinners during Ramadan; introducing my friend, a woman seeking asylum, to our shared congressman, who told her it was an honor to have her in this country; taking another friend, after we studied for her citizenship exam for a year, to the polls to vote for the first time last March; and that day in the park, where I learned about Nowruz.  My mom and I held new babies.  My brother chatted with other men.  I looked around the park and the gathering and thought God was saying, “Aren’t you glad I told you to keep going?”  I was.

I think God was reminding me that day that I could be outraged and sad but that I was also called to use the power and privilege I carried to drive my car, to connect people with resources, contact immigration attorneys, and to advocate for individuals as well as for more just and equitable systems.  He was also inviting me to be present in new ways, to learn and grow, to be in community.  

We welcome new days and seasons and celebrate moments together – all of us, all of you, in community – and we help steel each other for difficult, devastating times.  We still have to navigate a refugee crisis, a complex immigration system, separation from family, loss, trauma, and now a global pandemic.  But in the midst of it, and even on our phones and on Zoom, we can be present for one another.  Like spring flowers, these moments and connections are gifts and reminders: God is with us, keep going.

God of each new day, thank you for friendships, celebrations, and flowers that bloom and remind us of you.  Thank you for being present with us and within us.  Help us see and use our power, privilege, and presence.  Help us as we accompany one another through this life.  Help us to receive your presence and trust in you always.  Amen.

- Nicolette Rohr
Thriving Leadership Formation Lay Leadership Cohort Leader

Crowded Table

He entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. All who saw it began to grumble and said, “He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.”Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, “Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much. Then Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”

- Luke 19: 1-10

If you grew up as a child in a Christian tradition, chances are you’ve sung the “Zacchaeus song” once or twice. I’m guessing if you’re familiar, you’re singing it right now. These days, whenever I read the account of the interaction between Jesus and Zacchaeus, I hear The Highwomen’s Crowded Table from 2019. (Listen to it if you have a few extra minutes) They sing:

I want a house with a crowded table
And a place by the fire for everyone
Let us take on the world while we’re young and able
And bring us back together when the day is done

Many of us long for crowded tables these days – the ones where you look around and take a snapshot in your mind because you’ve got your people all around you, laughing, breaking bread, enjoying life. I think Jesus longed for crowded tables, as well, and noticed when people were missing, excluded, or lost. As for Zacchaeus? Probably not.

Can you hear the crowd grumbling when Jesus tells Zacchaeus that he’ll be coming over to his house? Jesus simply sees Zacchaeus and his world is transformed! And radically so, because culturally, as a Jewish man, Jesus didn’t get many invitations from a Gentile person, let alone a tax collector. Zacchaeus was operating in a world with power, privilege, and presence and using it to cheat and harm others.

And if we’re honest, I wonder if we might see a bit of ourselves in Zacchaeus. Or at least we might recognize our own power, privilege, and presence.

Yet, something about Jesus looking up in that sycamore tree was enough. I take inspiration from Zacchaeus’ humility to repent, in front of Jesus and the grumbling crowd. He takes a look at himself and though his sins might be much more intentional and explicit than mine, unintentional and implicit sin is still sin. Zacchaeus is still able to share an honest reflection.

To get to this place, I think Zacchaeus must have asked himself some hard questions about his privilege, power, and presence – questions we might ask ourselves.

• When has my privilege become toxic?

• How is my presence burdensome?

• What power do I hold and how can it (or has it) lead to corruption?

• Can I harness or leverage my power, privilege, or presence to support or uplift another?

• How can my table become even more crowded? Who is missing, excluded, and lost…and why?

  These questions and answers are deeply personal and extremely difficult. But the season of Lent gives us the opportunity to investigate and interrogate, to self-reflect and confess. This season allows us to acknowledge that death and sin are all around and within us, but they will not have the last word.

As much as I want to hide, I know Jesus will see me perched up in my sycamore tree, going out on a limb to confess and repent, and still pursue a relationship with me. Jesus wants to sit at my crowded table and yours, too.

Because Jesus’ life and ministry weren’t transactional, they were completely relational. He invites us to bring our whole selves, albeit broken, to crowded tables and taste and see that God is so, so good.

As The Highwomen sing, The door is always open / Your picture’s on my wall / Everyone’s a little broken / And everyone belongs / Yeah, everyone belongs

Jesus’ crowded table is where we receive life and love and forgiveness and salvation, together with the entire community of both broken saints and beautiful sinners. We are smooshed together sharing in fellowship and community united with a loving, relational, and abundant God.

Blessings to you this day, beloveds. Jesus sees you this day and is coming to show up to your house for a feast at your crowded table…when it is safe to do so, of course. Amen.

- Rev. Ben Hogue ’10, MDiv ’18

Pastor Ben Hogue  serves Lutheran Church of the Reformation on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C. and was Cal Lutheran’s 2020 Outstanding Young Alumni.