To Those Who Wait,

Advent is once again upon us, ushered in with the reverberant echoes of Isaiah’s voice announcing God’s Dream for the world.  This Dream is grounded in four texts from four chapters this season: Isaiah 2, Isaiah 11, Isaiah 35 and Isaiah 7.* How is it that these ancient prophecies—first spoken to a different people at a time and in a place so far removed from our own—still retain their majesty and power?   (The full citations are listed under Worship Life on page 4 below.)

At their hearts, these four texts are about transformation, and I look forward to exploring them with you in the weeks to come.  Our worship planning team has developed “windows” for entering into the spirit of these texts even before we cross through the doors of the nave.  We invite you to enter them with us.

Each of us has favorite moments (and, let’s be honest, dreaded ones too) that we anticipate during the weeks leading up to Christmas.  Getting the tree, making the special recipes, finding “just right” gifts for each person on the list.  During this tradition-laden season it’s easy to simply put our heads down and turn on autopilot in an effort to sustain traditions that have become central to our observance of the season.  The gospel texts of Advent challenge the “autopilot” mode by striking provocative, evocative, and sometimes discordant tones; sounds which are meant to wake us up and call us back to first things.

Advent hymns do similar work, but do it in a way that is less strident and therefore more inviting.  The hymn by David Haas quoted above and below, is one example.   “In our winter we are dead,” the words declare.  If such a thing is true, might we then ask which traditions we choose bring us closer to the season’s beating heart and “lead us in hope to see ahead the springtime and the gift that is to come”?

While awaiting Immanuel, we discover the truth that he—“the living word, the saving voice” also “waits for us.”  And knowing this, we know that our waiting can be joyful rather than fearful.  “GOOD NEWS OF GREAT JOY” is how the angels first sang it to shepherds’ ears.  And good news of great joy is, above all, what we long for still.

Pastor Erik

Beloved of God,

“Hold it together, Erik,” the voice said.  Turns out, it was my own.

“Hold it together” is a key phrase in my self-talk lexicon.  An appropriate one, too, at those times when I have so many balls in the air I have to struggle to avoid dropping them all.  The phrase is made of equal parts encouragement and judgment.  The encouraging part says: “It’s not too late, Erik.  Just chill.  Pull back now and you can regain your balance; you can do it.”  The judgment part says:  “Here we go again…I can’t believe you’ve allowed yourself to be in this same situation again for the umpteenth time!”

Sometimes the voice carries the overtones of a parent or teacher, coach or boss I’ve known.  But most of the time I recognize it as my own voice, warning me that the steering’s about to go out and I’m not buckled in; that I’m approaching a limit, coming to an edge, about to lose my balance.  The problem is, by the time that voice pops up, it’s often too late.  Like old Wily Coyote, in his famous battles with Roadrunner, my feet have left terra firma and are frantically peddling out in midair. Then gravity takes over…you get the picture. If I could only HOLD THINGS TOGETHER!

When Paul addresses the congregation at Colossi, he uses a huge canvas to paint with broad, sweeping strokes, his portrait of Christ.  With the lyric of an early Christian hymn as his muse, he throws bold colors across the page:

In case you haven’t got it, says Paul, Christ Jesus is God’s instrument for reconciling ALL THINGS in heaven and on earth, and God gets it done—alarmingly, amazingly, ironically, dumbfoundedly—through the cross.

Coming at the tail end of the church’s year, November is a month in which we behold the sweeping promises of God coming to fruition in the lives of the saints, in St. Paul’s testimony to a community that’s worried sick about the future, and in the figure of the One who, from the cross, declares—“Today you will be with me in Paradise.”  Paul’s testimony to the Colossians on Christ Reigns Sunday, the final Sunday of the Christian year, is a profound reminder that while we can’t ever seem to hold our lives together, the Crucified and Risen One does.  And not only our lives but ALL THINGS.

As tempting as it is to become curved in on oneself and think “it’s all about me,” it’s not.  Our failures—no matter how frequent or colossal—are no match for the grace God pours out upon us in Christ Jesus. God’s purpose and plan are much greater than we can imagine!  We get little snippets, glimpses of what God has in store through the testimony of scripture, but scripture is not exhaustive by any means.  As Paul says elsewhere,

“Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him.”[1] 

The upshot?  We are LOVED, dear ones, with a LOVE that far outstrips our ability to comprehend.  A LOVE that encompasses and, finally, overwhelms the crises—large or small—that populate our days.  Christ calls us through the waters of baptism to wade in that LOVE, and at the Table to eat and drink it so that we may become one with it, with him.

Live in that LOVE, won’t you, with me?

Pastor Erik

Beloved of God,

There’s been a lot of wrestling going on in our household these weeks as we grapple with the new rhythm that comes with having both kids in school full time for the first time.  We’ve been working on a morning routine that gets everyone up, fed, and out the door to school in time—without eruptions or flares of impatience.  And we’ve been helping our children negotiate the expectations that come with being a 4th grader and Kindergartener.  When we’re at our best, everything flows smoothly, like a well-choreographed dance.  And when we’re less than our best…well—I know you’ve been there!

There are moments in our lives when we can see change coming, can feel the tide shifting, the season changing, and we know that we will not be able to return to what once was.  These moments can be exhilarating as well as frightening, full of hope as well as grief.  Inevitably, they leave their mark on us.

In a story we’ll hear in worship this month, Jacob experiences one of those moments…a wrestling match on the bank of an ancient river.  You remember Jacob—second born twin of Isaac and Rebekah who robbed his brother Esau of both his birthright and his father’s blessing and then skipped town.  Twenty years and a lot of water have passed under the bridge since Jacob and Esau last set eyes on each other.  And Jacob has done quite well for himself.  In spite of his underhanded ways, God has blessed him and he has prospered.   Now, as Jacob travels with his family and all he has acquired toward the home territory he once knew, word reaches him that brother Esau is heading his way with 400 men.  Jacob is scared spitless!  As darkness descends, Jacob sends family, servants and possessions across the ford of the river.  He will spend the night alone.

Suddenly, out of the shadows, a Stranger leaps on him—who is it?  Esau?  A demon from the river?  All night long they wrestle each other—each one struggling for enough of an advantage to claim victory.

As the first hint of light touches the eastern sky, Jacob—now wounded—wrests a blessing from his Adversary, who, it turns out, is none other than God himself.  As Jacob, now free, limps toward the river ford at dawn, he carries a new name—and a new identity:  ISRAEL – Striver, Contender, Wrestler with God.

Everywhere we look these days high stakes wrestling matches are going down.  As I write, the Federal government  is shutting down while Congressional leaders circle each other in a senseless contest that keeps repeating itself over and again—with real consequences for our nation—especially the more vulnerable among us.  The newly released United Nations report on climate change introduces the most convincing scientific data to date on the reality of global warming, while those would deny this reality still cling to their ideological positions with religious fervor.  Meanwhile, closer to home, I-522 proponents and opponents are setting new $$$ records in that initiative battle on GMO labeling, leaving us voters with the challenge of deciphering it all.  The list goes on and on… Perhaps the most challenging wrestling match is the internal one each of us undergoes in deciding which of the myriad issues facing our state and nation deserves our careful attention, our advocacy, our voice.

God loves a good wrestling match.  Jesus was willing to go to the mat against the principalities and powers of this world bent on eviscerating our trust in the one true God whose mercy endures forever.  But God raised him on the third day, and his resurrection forever changes the odds we face in our battles with whatever comes our way.  With Christ in our corner, the odds have shifted permanently in our favor.As Brother Martin affirmed in his famous hymn:

Struggle is an important part of life—we struggle for clarity on purpose and direction, we wrestle with getting our relationships right and with challenges that face our families and our communities.  As followers of Christ, we pay particular attention to the fate of the last, the least, and the lost.  Our struggle on their behalf is part and parcel of the call we received in baptism.  In a world in which there are no easy answers, we still have a something and someone to guide us.  He is the one who went to mat for us all.  The one who said:  Love your neighbor as yourself.

With you on the Way,

Pastor Erik

Beloved of God,

It started, innocently enough, as a seemingly random conversation about shoes.  But it didn’t stay there.

We were at REI in June, picking up a few items for summer travels when Chris fell into a conversation with the woman in the checkout line next to her (Mary by name) about the sturdy shoes the woman was wearing. By degrees that conversation between Chris and Mary about shoes became a conversation about our hoped for Sabbatical, and when that happened, it moved onto holy ground. 

Mary: WHERE MIGHT YOU GO FOR SABBATICAL?

Chris: Europe.

Mary: WHERE IN EUROPE?

Chris: Scotland.

Mary: AND WHERE IN SCOTLAND?

Chris: A small island off the West Coast called Iona.

Mary: I JUST RETURNED FROM IONA.  I LEAD PILGRIMAGES THERE, AND HAVE WRITTEN A BOOK ABOUT HOW TO PREPARE SPIRITUALLY FOR A TRIP TO IONA…

Chris: [Jaw drops]

A few days later we received an email from Mary, affirming our serendipitous meeting:

“I truly delight in these sorts of exchanges and, since you have already engaged the pilgrim’s path, you now walk in a way that no encounter is happenchance or without deep import!  Even when simply asking a stranger in line at REI about her shoes!! [1]

Oh, how thin is the veil between the mundane and the sacred!  In days that followed we came to see our encounter with Mary as providential and a great affirmation of what we were hoping to do.  In fact, that encounter with Mary led us to conclude that even if Christian Theological Seminary (CTS) turned down our Lilly grant application, we would somehow summon the resources necessary to continue with the portion of the sabbatical vision that included Iona.

Fast forward to August 15…We knew CTS would be communicating its decision during the final weeks of August, but we didn’t know how it would come—via mail, phone, or email.  After losing sleep over it, I finally contacted CTS via email to ask how their decision would be disseminated.  Five minutes after hitting SEND, the reply came to my INBOX:

“Letters went out by USPS yesterday and will arrive at your congregation’s mailing address any day now!”

That reply guaranteed more sleepless nights as we waited for the letter to arrive.  Then, finally, on Saturday the 17th, while working with a crew on the Little Free Library project at Peace, I spied the approaching mailman and intercepted him as he headed our way. Among that handful of mail I spotted the return address of Christian Theological Seminary on two letters—and my heart skipped a beat.  I immediately went inside to let Chris know it had arrived. She ran up the stairs and we both took refuge in my office.  Sitting at my desk, I stared at the envelope with my name on it, my hands shaking.  I wanted to say something, to utter a prayer, but could not.  The power of the long journey leading to this moment, the investment on the part of so many, and my own deeply held dreams all combined and I was overwhelmed. 

As Chris held me, I gestured for her to pray, and from her mouth came the most beautiful and eloquent prayer of thanksgiving and release—affirming that whatever the outcome, we knew our lives would continue to rest in God’s hands.  Then, reaching for the scissors, I slit open the envelope, opened the letter, and read:

“Dear Erik, It is a pleasure to inform you…”  Oh!  Those sublime and long awaited words!  THE ANSWER WAS YES!!!

Our plans and those of the congregation would be fully funded.  Gathering our kids and holding each other in a circle, we shared the news.  Hugs and joy and dances all around…

Sharing this news has been a great joy for us in recent days.  And now, as the calendar shifts toward fall, we’ll be moving together from the “Sabbatical-that-might-be” to the “Sabbatical-that-will-be.”  We offer our deep gratitude to the Sabbatical Planning team – Michael and Lisa B, Donna K, Eldon O, Kathy P, and David W—without whom these efforts would not have succeeded, and to the Council leaders and congregation for embracing this possibility.  The gift is so astounding; we are humbled as well as energized.  We know that many other letters bore news of a different outcome, and so our elation is coupled with a heightened sense of responsibility to steward this marvelous opportunity in fullest measure.  Thank you for your prayers, your support, and for your willingness to embark on this journey together in the year ahead.

As September begins, many opportunities for shared ministry are before us.  God’s Work – Our Hands is more than a motto, it’s a way of life for God’s people.  And this life we share is immeasurably richer with each person present.

I look forward to reconnecting with you as the fall unfolds.

With you on the Way,

Pastor Erik

Beloved of God,

Summer is upon us—this year breaking the standing rule in these parts by showing up well before the 5th of July!

I spent one recent 90⁰+ day with my daughter Megan in Portland, where we found refuge from the heat in Portland’s exquisite Japanese Garden.  Nestled in the hills west of downtown among tall Douglas Firs, the Japanese Garden is celebrated as the most authentic Japanese Garden outside of Japan.   Inspired by a desire to cultivate stronger ties with Portland’s sister city, Sapporo, Japan, the Japanese Garden Society of Oregon commissioned Takuma Tono to design and supervise the development of the garden in 1963.  In the summer of 1967 it was formally opened to the public.

The garden opened late the Monday we were there, but because we were among the first to enter, we were able to take advantage of the unique atmosphere offered by each of the five separate garden areas without the pressure of a large crowd.  The experience lived up to its billing: among the carefully placed stones, water features and plants, I felt serenity descend upon me.  Such an experience is meant to be savored, and I left the garden restored.

The Japanese Garden represents an idealized evocation of the natural world in which human beings, through ingenuity, knowledge of nature, artistic sensibility, and spiritual vision, create a landscape that celebrates the gifts of creation and soothes the soul.  I look forward to returning again.

During these precious summer months, reconnecting with the natural world is high on my family’s list of priorities, and we look forward to road trips that will take us to western Montana, to the San Juan Islands, and to Central Oregon.  These road trips give us access to the larger landscapes of the Pacific Northwest—its mountains, rivers, lakes, and ocean waters—and through these experiences we find ourselves renewed and grounded once again with a sense of place.

In his book, Rainbow of Mysteries: Meeting the Sacred in Nature, Australian Lutheran theologian Norman Habel, in his ninth decade of life, writes about his still evolving spiritual understanding of place and how it has shaped who he is and his understanding of who we are as “Earth beings.”  Meditating on the prophet Isaiah’s encounter with the Sacred in the Temple (see quote above) as refracted through his own spiritual experiences of sacred Presence, Habel articulates a new grounding point for understanding the place of human beings in relation to the Divine and in relation to creation:

“The mystery of Presence challenges me to reconsider the very nature of God.  I can no longer resonate with an omnipotent ruler outside of the cosmos who intervenes as necessary.  Nor can I accept those past doctrines that separate God from nature.  My starting point is now the cry of the Seraphim that the presence of God fills planet Earth.  I now understand their words to mean: ‘The Presence which is God fills the cosmos and is revealed before our very eyes through this planet.’ God is that sacred Presence that permeates creation and is revealed through nature.” (p. 48)

“I am not only a human being,” he continues, “I am an Earth being…I belong to a fragile web of interconnected and interdependent fragments and forces on this planet.  And the matter that emanated from primordial times in the cosmos evolved into conscious Earth Beings, who reflect the spiritual imbedded in the material.  Matter and spirit are not separate.” (p. 54)

Is it possible to wrest new meanings from ancient Biblical texts in such a way that they lift and carry us, like a boat on rising river waters, over long embedded traditions to new places of insight and understanding?  Habel thinks it is. As our Season of Creation planning team prepares for our annual observance of that four week Season this fall, he has become one of our dialog partners and his musings offer much food for thought.

Wherever this summer finds you, whatever landscapes you frequent, may you find yourself echoing the chorus of the Seraphim: “HOLY, HOLY, HOLY is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of God’s glory!”

With you on the Way,

Pastor Erik