Month: March 2021

Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

- Romans 8:35

Separation is a common language for us nowadays. A virus continues to keep us secluded in our homes, separated from even our closest family members, and in isolation from our everyday activities where we find a sense of belonging. The first few weeks of sheltering in place were a novelty. Folks got projects on their homes done, a bonding developed with our children learning to navigate distance learning, and oh, the baking of bread became delightful challenges. After a few weeks and months later, it became clear that separation was going to be for the long haul. Like children sitting in the back seat, we whined, “Is it over yet, can we get back to normal?” As time marched on, like death, the pandemic has brought out the best and the worst in us.

Many of us have had the privilege and convenience to work from home. Others, deemed essential workers, headed out into the front lines, like canaries in the mines where many were inadequately protected from the wrath of COVID-19. A majority of these front-line workers have been our black and brown siblings who continue to suffer the greatest loss of life at the hands of the systemic structures of the powerful and privileged. Yet we still lament over the smallest of inconveniences lost in our lives of privilege.

The Romans verse above is one of the cornerstones in Lutheran theology that invokes an image that no matter what hardships befall us, that no one can separate us from Christ’s love. What does it speak of when this question comes from a place of power and privilege? How encouraging is this to those who continue to suffer the unequivocal injustices of racism without looking at the white privileged as the enemy? These are difficult and complex questions with no easy answers. Like these questions, our Lenten journey is not meant to be easy. As we sit in quiet thought, our presence steeped in reflection, we look towards the cross, to acknowledge our power and privilege. We look to the cross as a symbol of hatred that is transformed into the power of grace and pray that our lives be transformed too.

Gracious God,
We begin our walk with humility knowing that your love encompasses all of humanity and creation. We acknowledge our shortcomings, the unknown yet to be revealed and the known we wish to keep secret. We ask for courage to be in deeper relationship with those different from ourselves, that we spend more time listening than speaking. We ask for inspiration in your vision for us and all of creation where all are welcomed to live in peace. Amen.

- Rev. Christine Higueria-Street ’07, MDiv ’12
Convocator and PLTS Advisory Board

 

- David Hall ’21
Cal Lutheran Student and Convocator

David Hall is a senior at Cal Lutheran majoring in Economics and Mathematics. On campus, he is heavily involved in the Lord of Life Student Congregation and Investment Club. He currently works for the Economic Development Collaborative as an Intake/Data Specialist.

If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.

Philippians 2.1-11

For the last several years one of my spiritual practices is to choose a ‘word for the year’. I enjoy this practice of holding a word, returning to it as the events of the year unfold, and learning from it. Sometimes I choose the word. More often than not a word chooses me – often coming to me on a star picked out of a basket on the Sunday when my congregation celebrates Epiphany.

In 2021, my word chose me. I would have never chosen this word for the second year of the Covid pandemic, for this ongoing season of digging deeper into my own work around antiracism. My word? Humility.

To be honest, there was no ‘oooh’ when I read this word, no momentary excitement at the prospect of a year focused on humility, the word. Just, ‘huh’.

So, a word nerd by nature my first step was to look up ‘humility’ in the dictionary. Merriam Webster defines it quite concisely: freedom from pride or arrogance. Sounds so simple. Unimpressed, and a pastor by vocational calling, my next step was to see where this word shows up in scripture. I found many uses of humility as an encouragement. We are to: ‘walk humbly’ (Micah 6), ‘clothe ourselves with humility’ (Colossians 3), ‘humble ourselves’ (James 4), and ‘lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility’ (Ephesians 4).

But it was in Philippians 2 that I finally found a description of what humility actually looks like. A description that was, well … humbling.

After encouraging followers of Jesus in Philippi to, ‘in humility regard others as better than yourselves’, the ancient hymn that follows describes how Jesus was humble – emptying himself, becoming like a slave, born in human likeness, obedient to the point of death on a cross.

That got my attention. In a hierarchical culture that ranked people by social standing, followers of Jesus – no matter their social standing – were to be the lowest. To be servants of others, completely reliant on God for their needs and their sense of value. There was nothing superficial about this. Such humility may well, like it did in Jesus’ case, lead to death. No wonder we find true humility so difficult to live ourselves and so amazing when we see it in others.

Here’s the thing, the ancient hymn is about Jesus, not us. We can’t fully empty ourselves like Jesus did. Nor do I think that is the point. After all, we are also fearfully and wonderfully made, knit together with God’s love in our mothers’ wombs (Psalm 139). We can’t all live humbly, can’t all be the ‘lowest’ at all times. For ‘low’ to matter, someone else has to be ‘higher’, and the point certainly is not to keep lowering the bar by being lower than the person next to you. Which honestly, is how the game of humility sometimes goes – I see your humility and I lower it one.

The gift of community, wherever you find it, is that we take turns. Some days I serve you. Other days you serve me. Some days we together serve people we hardly know but who need God’s love in food or water, or in words and deeds of love. Some days it is important that I speak out of my experience, my truth. Other days, it is important that I listen. That I tend to my deep soul work so that I can make room, empty myself of my need for pride or attention, and instead listen to your stories, your experience, your truth. With humility.

Good and gracious God, you stop at nothing to show us love, and in the process make room for us to love you and love others. Help us each take our turn in humility, that we may have more room in our hearts for connecting with others and hearing their stories, all for the sake of expanding the circle of your love in this world. Amen.

- Rev. Kim Gonia
Thriving Leadership Formation Cohort Leader, Region 2
Pastor of Risen Lord Lutheran Church, Conifer, CO

“Your Way Isn’t Working”

Give Jesus the Power to Change You

“When [Jesus] had finished speaking, he said to Simon, ‘Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.’ Simon answered, ‘Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.’”

Luke 5:4-5 (NIV)

Think about how hard it must have been for Simon Peter to admit failure to Jesus. He was a professional fisherman, and he was good at it. It was how he made his living. But sometimes even the pros fish all night and catch nothing.

Does your life sometimes feel the same way? Sometimes your best isn’t good enough, and sometimes you face situations out of your control. You can’t control the economy. You can’t control the weather. You can’t control a lot of things that affect your life.

So, what do you do when you keep trying hard in your work but just don’t have much to show for it?

First, you need to get Jesus in your boat. In other words, let him be the center of your job. Then, once you’ve asked Jesus to come into your boat, you need to admit your way isn’t working so you can let him take over. The Bible has a name for “admitting your way isn’t working.” It’s called confession, and it can be tough.

Why is it so hard for you to admit your way isn’t working? Here are a few reasons:

Pride. You don’t want anybody to think you can’t handle it. Instead, you want to look like you’re in charge and like you’ve got it all together. You think you can handle everything by yourself, even if it means working 12 hours a day.

Stubbornness. You’re unwilling to change the way you do things. Did you know the greatest enemy of tomorrow’s success is yesterday’s success?

Fear. You can’t admit you’ve fished all night and caught nothing. You’re afraid people will think less of you. You’re afraid to let Jesus into your boat because he might steer it in a direction you don’t want to go.

It’s time to confess that your way isn’t working. Let go of your pride, stubbornness, and fear. Then see how Jesus can take your boat and fill your nets to overflowing.

• Do you struggle most with pride, stubbornness, or fear? Why?

• In what aspect of your life do you feel like your best just isn’t good enough? Spend some time confessing to God that your way isn’t working.

• What’s one practical step you can take to start following God’s way instead of your own way?

Prayer:

Most good and gracious God, I come to you admitting that I have allowed pride, stubbornness, fear, and wanting to do things my way. Lord I repent my need to be in control and have power. I know that all power belongs to you. I ask you to show me how to let go and let God control and lead my life. In Jesus’ mighty name. Amen!

- Rev. Tracy Williams
Pastor of Holy Redeemer Church, Bellflower, CA

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

John 3.16

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.”

Mark 12.30-31
_________________

Sometime during college I realized that devotion to (and arguments about) Jesus often distract us from the more primary point of John 3.16: God loves the world. My prayers for the world changed, as did my love for the world.

How do you pray for the world? What is your role in sharing God’s love with the world?

Years later I learned that the Hebrew word for mercy, rachamin, is built on the root rechem, womb. What is a womb if not a world, a most intimate, life-giving world that gives to a new life from its own life?! As one whose womb has both nurtured life and lost it prematurely, I know the attachment of mercy in my own flesh. Not every woman is called to biological motherhood, and yet mothering is a gift of love to the world. Indeed, every calling from God is a calling to offer love to the world in a particular way. My prayers for the world changed again, as did my love for the world.

How does your particular position in the world—your POWER • PRIVILEGE • PRESENCE—shape the love you offer to the world?

My journey of accepting the particularity of my gifts—down to the offering of my own specific heart, soul, mind, and strength—has not always been easy.

Today, International Women’s Day, highlights some of my particularity in ways I do not always appreciate. What does it mean to be both woman and Christian? Who am I at the intersection of Christian and woman? In my faith foundations and developmental seasons I’m aware of many moments: unexamined gender neutrality, male preference/privilege/dominance, gender stereotyping, tokenizing or collecting, and downright misogyny. Often voices from the outside observing my struggles in any of these moments have labeled me a fool for continuing to seek Jesus to guide me in loving the world.

How does following Jesus affect your:

POWER, perhaps empowering you to resist oppression, extend compassion, or call out injustice?

PRIVILEGE, perhaps offering access to offer or remind others to offer active love to neighbors?

PRESENCE, challenging you to receive all of your particularity as a gift and offer it in love?

Saying yes to the kind of foolishness revealed in God’s love for the world through Jesus continues to require spiritual practices and disciplines. I’m grateful for God’s love for the world, which means that we are never alone. The world is the place to receive and to practice love and to grow in understanding all the many shapes and styles God’s love takes.

God, thank you for your continual yes-saying power to the world you love. Your yesses in the face of our habitual nos mean that the world continues—broken, yet loved. Convince us of your love for us through the witness of Jesus and lead us, like him, into sharing your love with the world. Amen. 

- Rev. Dr. Colleen Windham-Hughes
Associate Professor, Religion Department / Wilbert & Darlene Carlson Endowed Chair in Youth & Family Ministry
Associate Dean for Interdisciplinary Programs and Community Outreach

 

- Josyua Gatison ’22
ASCLU President

Transcription of Video Below:

My name is Josyua Gatison. I’m a junior here at CLU, a psychology major with a German minor and I am currently ASCLU-G President.

I want to start off with a scripture from Romans 12:12. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer

As we take in life’s challenges and push ourselves to embrace growth, one thing that I’ve found to be extremely important is the ability to reflect and think about our faith. During this time of reflection and growth, it’s important that we are able to find community around us. I know I am very lucky to have my family and friends to support me along the way, and through their support, I’m able to manifest my own dreams and goals whilst connecting with my faith and strengthening my bond with the lord.

One thing I always take joy in is the work that I’m able to complete. As time goes on, your actions will reflect those ambitions you held so dear. My experience as a community service intern was a period in my life where I learned how much one person can really impact another’s life. In that job, I helped plan events that would give students the chance to seek out these opportunities and give back to an ever-growing community. However, I would say one of the most rewarding things was the impact that this work had on me, and how I was able to become that much closer with my family, friends, and faith because of it.

When trying to understand one’s own presence, you can always look to God to assist you in your times of need. Be willing to accept the light, and also be willing to share that with those around you lifting them up as well. In this time of Lent, remember that you will always have a community with those around you, and by recognizing and reflecting on your own privilege, you too will sustain that community, and you will remain close with the lord.

I want to end on a prayer:

Let Us Fast
While fasting with the body,
brothers and sisters,
let us also fast in spirit.
Let us lose every bond of iniquity;

let us undo the knots of every contact made by violence;
let us tear up all unjust agreements;
let us give bread to the hungry
and welcome to our house
the poor who have no roof to cover them,
that we may receive mercy from Christ our God.                                                               - Byzantine Vespers

 

 

- Melissa Maxwell-Doherty ’77 MDiv ’81
Vice President, Mission and Identity

Melissa serves as Vice President for Mission & Identity at Cal Lutheran. She is a proud alum of both PLTS and Cal Lu, enjoys working with her hands whether that is with food, yarn, or plants, and is an avid card maker.

But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.

Jeremiah 17: 7-8

August 6, 1945 marks one of the most monumental days in modern history. The first atomic bomb was dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima. Although this day is marked by tragedy, there is something about this day that shocked me. 

Despite the destruction that the bomb had on land and human life, one of the lone survivors of this bombing caught my attention; the Ginkgo Tree. Externally these trees were stripped of leaves and their bark was left scorched, on the inside, the trees were still alive. Everything surrounding them had been destroyed by their circumstances, but still, they stood. 

The trees didn’t just survive the bombing, they also survived radiation, black rain, and some of the most stressful soil conditions in the history of the planet. Luckily, the organization of the tree’s cell tissues created a compartment within them that was practically immune to destruction. Not only did these trees survive, they also thrived in comparison to the few plant species that survived the bombing. 

This tree reminded me of what God promises those who trust in Him. When we plant our lives on the firm foundation that is Jesus, we cannot be shaken by anything the world may put in our paths. We don’t need to fear when trials come because we have a Heavenly Father who will continue to provide. Our God is so much bigger than our problems. 

In a year of difficulty and trials, we can still trust in God to overcome and to bear fruit. Each year after the explosion at Hiroshima, the Ginkgo trees bloomed and have continued to bloom every spring since. Trust in the Lord and the fruit will follow. Circumstances don’t impact His promises.

Lord we come before you today giving thanks for the opportunity to live another day for you. Father, we pray that as we trust in you we will continue to be planted in your love for us. I pray thanks that the circumstances we are in have no impact on the promises you have made to all of your children. I pray peace over your people because even when trials arise you continue to make a way. Lord thank you for a love that never fails. In Jesus name, amen.

- Jaclyn Holtz ‘ 22, Cal Lutheran Student

The Potter and Clay.

So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him. Then the word of the Lord came to me. He said, “Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does?’ declares the Lord. ‘Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel.”

Jeremiah 18: 2-6

When I was a sophomore in high school, I took my first pottery class. I remember watching my teacher in awe as he sat at the wheel and explained the process of centering the clay. The wheel was turned on; there was a rhythmic sound and the lopsided clay was manipulated to spin in a perfectly symmetrical manner. A lump of clay must be placed correctly in the center of the wheel and forced by hand into a form ready to be molded into whatever vessel the potter is set on creating. It looked simple and straightforward but when I sat at my own wheel I found that it was very difficult. The clay was moving quickly and I could not seem to steady my hand, the clay seemed topsy turvy and it finally just flung off the wheel completely. I laughed the first time it happened but after it happened several times I felt frustrated. It was then that I realized how important the role of the potter’s hand was to the entire process. I soon learned to be intentional in the way I held my hands and the manner in which my fingers worked independently as well as collectively. I also became aware of how my emotional state marked the clay. 

There have been two distinct times that I have turned to pottery making in my life. The first time was when I became a widow in 2015, and the second was this year during the pandemic. I spent that year of becoming a widow snuggling my kids, painting, continuing my seminary studies, and doing pottery. I did a lot of reflection and healing while working with the clay. Times at the wheel allowed me to reflect on the way in which the circumstances of our lives mold us. How they can make us bitter and angry or we can choose to allow them to form us into something new. 

In working with clay any small movement of my hand manipulates the outcome, it can become a beautiful vessel or a horrible mess in minutes. The items I created in the first weeks of grieving as well as in the first weeks of a pandemic have been rough, heavy, and lopsided, but as time progressed the vessels became more balanced. I learned to trim the excess lumps of mud, which in turn caused something more delicate and beautiful to emerge. This pandemic, I acquired two potter wheels. One for my use and the other for my children and partner to join me. It has allowed for time in conversation, meditation and reflection. Working the clay allows us to remember that the state we are in now is not the state we will find ourselves in later. 

In the parable of the Potter’s House found in Jeremiah 18, the potter molded and shaped the clay pot on the wheel. It says that the clay was marred by his hands, some commentators have said that it is a “defect in the clay.” I do not like to think of it this way. Instead, I like to believe it is a weak spot (a tear or bubble) that has been found in the structure that could keep it from being a successful vessel. In fact, these sorts of weak spots can cause the vessel to explode in the kiln and so the potter reworks the clay. The potter takes the time to reshape the pot. In the same way that God takes time to reshape us. I know that I am far from being a beautiful vessel but I gather strength from knowing that God is continuing to work on me, molding me to become a better person. How are we being shaped by God during times of uncertainty? What if we crack or break or need to start over? Do we trust God enough to believe that reshaping is possible? Then, even in our weak spots can be molded and formed by the Master Artist into a new vessel.

- Rev. Hazel Salazar-Davidson ’17, Campus Minister