From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.

– Matthew 16:21

Beloved of God,

I don’t know about you, but our household is approaching September and the resumption of Fall schedules  with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.  In a normal year we’d be shopping for back to school clothes and classroom supplies.  Not this year.  In a normal year there’d be excitement about reconnecting in person with friends, and swapping stories about summer adventures.  Not this year.  In a normal year we’d be anticipating school bus schedules, marching band performances at football games, ultimate frisbee tournaments, music concerts, fall festivals and auctions.  Not this year.  September feels decidedly different.  The same is true for the life we share as Peace Lutheran community.  We’re being forced to adapt normal rhythms to new realities, hoping that—at the end of the day—it won’t simply feel inferior.  The excitement and anticipation we experienced one year ago as we counted down the weeks to our 75^th Anniversary Celebration seems like a lifetime ago.  I can’t tell you how often I have offered prayers of thanksgiving that this milestone landed in the fall of 2019 and not in 2020!

Each fall, it’s been our custom here to mark special emphases on a half dozen Sundays—from Rally Sunday to St. Francis’s Feast Day, to Offering of Letters Sunday, Reformation, All Saints, and Christ the King.  What will things look like this year, with in-person worship not be an option for the foreseeable future?  As I write, our worship planning team is in the thick of addressing this question.  One thing’s for certain—though our worship life this Fall may not resemble what we’re used to experiencing, our faithful Lord will continue to show up—and unleash creative gifts, via the Spirit, among us.

In recent weeks, Fr. Richard Rohr has focused his daily meditations on what he calls “the universal pattern” that connects and solidifies our relationships with everything around us.  This pattern, he says, begins with ORDER, moves into DISORDER, and finally to REORDER.^[1]  The laws, rules, and traditions we inherit help to establish the sense of safety and identity which is the rightful first focus on our life journey, but these cannot deliver the deeper meaning we long for.  “Sooner or later some event, person, death, idea, or relationship will enter our lives that we simply cannot deal with using our present skill set, our acquired knowledge, or our…will power. We must stumble and be brought to our knees by reality…we will and must ‘lose’ something.”  This is, Rohr writes, “the necessary pattern.” Only by being forced out of the driver’s seat can we set our feet onto the further and larger journey.

In many ways, this is what’s happening to our lives right now—individually and collectively—as the pandemic, our nation’s racist foundations, a contentious election year, and nature’s warning alarms push us further and further into DISORDER.  There is no work-around for this process; no shortcuts that can get us from ORDER to REORDER without going through DISORDER.  The only way forward for Jesus was through—through disorder, through suffering, through rejection, through death.  Only then was the stage set for resurrection—the ultimate expression of what the final stage—REORDER—is about. Having been down that road, Jesus is perfectly positioned to be our guide as we put one foot in front of the other through these uncertain times.

Being bound to him in baptism means we can count on the chaos of DISORDER intruding into our story, as it did his.  But we can also trust that DISORDER is not the final place where this unfolding story is meant to rest.  The courage we gain from having him as our companion enables us not to flee the DISORDER, but to call it out, to name it, to see it clearly; and then to commit ourselves to respond with compassion and justice—holding both together as Jesus himself did.

With you on the Way, Pastor Erik

[1] You can find Richard Rohr’s daily reflections on this topic here: https://cac.org/order-disorder-reorder-part-two-weekly-summary-2020-08-22/

There was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces…but the LORD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.  – 1 Kings 19:11b-13

Beloved of God,

For many of us, living through the pandemic has meant letting go of life rhythms we’ve known and counted on—people, places, and habits that once grounded us.  This letting go, for some, has led to significant isolation; while for others it’s led to the rediscovery of walkable neighborhoods and creative ways of staying connected.  Our family has particularly enjoyed brief camping forays to Lutherwood and elsewhere, and physically distanced backyard dinners with friends.  The safety calculus—avoiding the virus—has become the dominant lens for all of us.  And while there are many things we miss—for me in-person Sunday worship is first among many; even at its best, live stream worship is no substitute for being with the physically gathered community!—we have grown accustomed to our forced flexibility.  And perhaps are less apt to take things for granted.

Where do we expect to find God these days?  How do we expect God to show up for us? 

The Scriptures record many stories of how, through the ages, people and prophets have had to come to terms with new ways of understanding who God is and how God might show up among us.  The quote above comes from the story of the prophet Elijah, whose battle against Israel’s worst king on record—King Ahab—and his evil wife Jezebel had taken its toll.  Even after pitching a shutout against the 450 priests of Baal in one of the most celebrated contests recorded in the Hebrew scriptures, (check it out—1 Kings 18:20-40) Elijah was feeling more vulnerable than confident.  So when, in the aftermath of that encounter, Queen Jezebel puts a bounty on his head, Elijah flees for his life, journeying 40 days and 40 nights to the holy mountain of God – Horeb. Elijah arrives there feeling depressed, defeated, fearful and alone.  He wonders whether all his efforts for God’s sake have been for naught.  Exhausted, he crawls into this cave and he waits for a sign.[1]

There’s a lot packed into this story, into what precedes it and what comes after it, but three verses captured my attention this week.  Elijah is commanded: “Go out and stand on the mountain before the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.”  And so Elijah, bone weary, looks toward the mouth of the cave.  This is what happens next:

There was a great wind, so strong it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind;

and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake;

and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire;

and after the fire, a sound of sheer silence…

It’s when Elijah hears that SILENCE—so deep, so pervasive that it tugs at his ears—that he wraps his mantle around his head, crawls to the mouth of the cave, and he stands up before the LORD. Elijah has been around God long enough to learn that God may just show up in ways we least expect—not through outsized events or huge natural phenomenon or feats of strength, but in the form of sheer silence (RSV: “still small voice”).

The answer to the question: WHERE WILL GOD SHOW UP FOR US DURING THE PANDEMIC? may surprise us.  The story of Elijah invites us to not come to conclusions too quickly about where we can find God, but to remain open to how and where we see God manifested during this vulnerable time. To listen for that “still small voice” which can only be heard when we learn to filter out all the other loud, boisterous, public, competing voices which vie for our attention.

With you, on the Way.

Pastor Erik

[1] Sidebar: Some of the ancient manuscripts, in verse 9, call it “a cave” where Elijah found refuge. That’s how it’s translated in the NRSV.  But others name it “the cave”; definite article  What’s the difference?  The first version suggests it was any old cave.  Version two suggests that this could be the very cave where Moses hid when we saw the backside of God.  See Exodus 33:17-23.