To those who wait for Emmanuel,

During Advent we are invited to ponder all the ways we are waiting for something new to unfold in our lives.  Sometimes our waiting is purposeful and focused: we await a new job, a new child, a new opportunity or relationship.  And sometimes we find ourselves drafted into a role that is quite unexpected; a surprise which we hadn’t considered and for which we feel unprepared.  Yet, when we experience God’s presence at the root of this newness, we may be able to move from a reluctant “HUH?!” to a soulful “YES.”  So, it seems, it was for Mary.

Nearly all we know about Mary comes from the first two chapters of Luke’s gospel.  Mark’s gospel doesn’t mention her.  Matthew does—but his birth story revolves more on around Joseph than her.  John’s gospel includes Mary in scenes at the wedding in Cana and at the foot of the cross, but says nothing about the circumstances of Jesus’ birth.  So it’s here in the opening chapters of Luke’s gospel that we find our most complete portrait of her.  And still we’re left full of questions. How old was Mary the day the Messenger came?  Was she washing clothes or hanging laundry?  At the well getting the day’s supply of water?  Working in the fields?  Tending goats?  Preparing dinner?  If Luke knows, he’s not telling.  So it’s left to our imaginations to fill in the blanks, and many artists, poets and filmmakers have.

My favorite depiction of this scene in film is in Franco Zeffirelli’s 1977 classic “Jesus of Nazareth.”  In the still of the night Mary is woken from sleep by a brilliant light streaming through the small window of her peasant home.  Frightened at first by this unearthly Presence she tries to hide in the shadows.  But then, slowly and deliberately, curiosity moves her beyond fear to ask “Who are you?!”  Moving by degrees into the fullness of the light Mary is privy to a Voice she alone can hear.  As the message sinks in Mary slowly sinks to her knees and accepts her new vocation with humility and deep conviction.[1]

This scene of the Annunciation is a favorite subject of Medieval and Renaissance artists; second only to Madonna and Child.  We saw scores of versions of the scene in galleries we frequented during our sabbatical last spring.  A favorite was the depiction by Fra Angelico, which we saw at the Museo Diocesano in Cortona, Italy.   Angelico, a pioneer of three dimensional perspective in painting, places Mary and Gabriel in the foreground of a columned portico, facing one another and leaning toward each other.  The words uttered by the divine Messenger leave his mouth as streaks of gold, and Mary receives them eagerly.  In the left back corner of the canvass Angelico depicts Adam and Eve being driven from Paradise, as if to alert us that the old, old story of our estrangement from God is about to receive a new chapter.[2]

During this season of waiting for Emmanuel, we are invited to imagine this intimate encounter between Gabriel and Mary in our own minds and to imagine, too, how we would respond if God were to call our name. And make no mistake, God does call our names.  Though our encounters with the Divine may not be depicted in film or on canvas, nonetheless, in Advent we tune our ears for that Voice, and learning to receive its message with humility and grace.  During these weeks of Advent and Christmas, the message goes out once more: God has come among us and will again, in the most surprising ways.  In the words of poet Gerard Manley Hopkins:

Of her flesh he took flesh:

He does take fresh and fresh,

Though much the mystery how,

not flesh but spirit now

And makes, O marvelous!

New Nazareths in us,

Where she shall yet conceive Him,

morning noon and eve:

New Bethlems, and He born there,

evening, noon and morn.

Waiting with you,

Pastor Erik

               “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” – Matthew 25:1-13

“Every disaster is a local disaster.” – Emergency Plan Standards Notebook, King County

Beloved of God,

There we were, Bob Wightman and I, with 40 other faith community and non-profit agency reps in King County’s Emergency Planning “war room.”  When disaster strikes, be it earthquake, tsunami, seiche[1], flood, lahar, landslide, pandemic, fire, or large-scale human caused event, (the possibilities, alas, seem endless…) this is where it will all shake out.  Coordinated response in an emergency of this order is vital so that life and property can be preserved, and resources can go to where they’re most needed when they’re needed.  The logistics of accomplishing that in the face of an event such as a major earthquake is mindboggling. 

It was an impressive space, the room we inhabited, with clusters of desks equipped with computers and monitors; three huge screens dominated the room to the front and large scale maps with colored markers at the ready covering the walls.  Throughout the day we did what most people try to avoid at all cost: imagine the worst scenarios of natural or human-caused disasters, and how we might respond.  I came away more grateful than ever for the people who give careful thought to planning for situations such as these, as well as for those who put their lives on the line when those disasters come. 

It was a great learning experience for me personally, and got me thinking about the role our congregation and our facilities could potentially play in the event of a community emergency.          And it raised scores of questions for which I had no ready answer: How might we prepare individually and as a congregation for such an event?  What can and should we do to get ready now?  How might we serve as an asset to the neighbors who surround us?  What kind of services could we be prepared to offer?  The whole exercise took us behind the scenes and into the minds of the emergency managers and first responders. The idea, of course, is to do as much thinking and anticipating and planning as one can beforehand rather than at the moment disaster strikes.  It makes perfect sense.  Yet planners acknowledge that no planned response will be executed perfectly because the very nature of disasters is that they are complex and unpredictable.  So what do you do?  You devise the best protocols for communication and action you can get your minds around, knowing that they are bound to be imperfect and will require adjustments and creativity when the actual event arrives.

This month our worship life flows from the commemoration of All Saints on the first Sunday to Christ Reigns Sunday, and, this year, ends by opening the door of Advent.  The texts for these Sundays have to do with last things, and a high level of urgency undergirds each one.  The parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids (Matthew 25:1-13) is a case in point; a text that would make any emergency planner sit up and take notice!  Be prepared, Jesus tells us.  “Keep awake, for you don’t know the day or the hour.”

For the first generations of faithful Christians, major shifts in the world as they knew it seemed seismic indeed.  Massive social/political/religious rifts were causing the world to move in ways that they’d never before experienced.  What was faith supposed to look like in such a landscape?  Earlier in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus had called on his followers to be “wise as serpents and innocent as doves,” and now, as midnight approached and the hour of his crucifixion drew near, he cautioned them to be wise rather than foolish.  But of course, hindsight is 20/20, and when you’re entertaining a whole truckload of alternative scenarios for what disaster could look like and where it might strike, being wise is easier said than done. 

One of the scenarios we talked about in the workshop was that of an “active shooter.”  Lord have mercy—we’ve witnessed so many of these now! God help us, when will it stop?!   We try to cull some learning from the evidence of each violent incident, and still, each new episode leaves us shell shocked, bleary eyed, and looking for answers that elude us.  In the aftermath of the recent tragedy at Pilchuck- Marysville High School, the church is once again proving to be a place where people can find solace and the community can be served.  But as important as that role is, I believe the church has more to offer.  Part of that “something more” has to do with our role as advocates within the larger society.  Two gun initiatives on the November ballot offer stark alternatives.  In an imperfect world, taking action—even when that action is imperfect or incomplete—is far better than continuing the policies of a failed status quo.

                “Jesus Christ who are the light of the world, the light no darkness can overcome.”

What does being wise look like?  There’s no formula that works in every scenario, just as no one strategy for disaster response can be applied to every possible situation. But wisdom starts, it seems to me, with investing ourselves and our resources in the role we inhabit when we’re at our best—serving as light bringers when darkness is at hand.  The light we bring does not originate with us, of course.  But we confess and Scripture affirms that through the power of Christ’s death and resurrection we have become children of light!  In these days of growing darkness, may our lamps burn bright!

Ever yours in hope,

Pastor Erik

Beloved of God,

These weeks in October are plum full of significant events in our life together.  A rich harvest of opportunities awaits us, and I’d like to draw attention to several of them in particular. 

The first is our celebration of St. Francis’ Feast Day on Sunday, October 5th.   Born Giovanni (John) Bernadone in Assisi, Italy in 1182, his name became “Francesco” (Frenchie) soon after birth because of his father’s love of all things French.  His early ambition was to become a knight, but his capture and imprisonment during a border dispute between Assisi and Perugia led to suffering and introspection that changed the trajectory of his life.  He ceased the former lifestyle of carousing with his peers, renounced his wealth and inheritance, and became “wedded to Lady Poverty.”  Francis has become known around the world for his humility in relying on the power of God, and for his spirit of gladness and gratitude for all of God’s creation.  In honor of St. Francis our liturgy on October 5th will end with a procession to the Westside patio, where our last act of worship will be blessing of pets/animals.

October 19th is Offering of Letters Sunday once again, when we take up our role as advocates by putting pen to paper on behalf of those whose voices are often unheard or ignored.   The call we received at baptism to “strive for justice and peace throughout the world” is broken down into manageable form on this Sunday, and the multigenerational experience teacher our younger members an important aspect of incarnating Christ’s presence in a “spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.”

Finally, October ends, as always with Reformation Sunday, October 26.  Northwest Washington Synod Bishop Kirby Unti will join us that day as preacher, and we’ll have an opportunity to meet him during the Education Hour prior to worship (9:15-10:15). It’s an opportunity you won’t want to miss, a chance to learn more deeply how our congregational mission is wedded to the mission of other ministries in our synod, and to learn what initiatives are simmering as we Lutherans seek to be Christ in this corner of the country at this time in history. 

At the time Paul wrote to Timothy (see quote above), his young protégé had grown timid and perhaps uncertain about his calling.  Paul urged him to “rekindle the gift of God” that had been passed down to him through his grandmother Lois, his mother Eunice, and through Paul himself.  As his mentor, Paul reminds Timothy, and us, that the spirit we receive when we engage in God’s ministry is not one of cowardice but of power and of love and of self-discipline.  “Don’t rely on yourself,” Paul admonishes, “instead rely on the power of God you have come to know in Jesus.”  Paul’s words to Timothy strike home for me—how about you?  When I find myself in the trap of thinking that ministry “depends on me” then I inevitably find myself second-guessing, and slowly sinking into a fearful funk.  Then the road ahead seems poorly lit and my skills and confidence sorely lacking.  But by remembering where the source of my power truly lies I am awakened to a fresh start.  God has called each one of us according to God’s own purpose and grace.  As we awaken to that purpose in our lives each day, and offer ourselves as God’s instruments, we become bold and shameless witnesses to the power of God at work in us.

As the new month unfolds, I pray that God will “rekindle the gift of God that is within you” and will make you a bold witness in sharing that giftedness within and beyond Peace.

Go with joy,

Pastor Erik

– The Avowal, Denise Levertov

Beloved of God,

It’s a joy to be back at Peace after a sabbatical chalk-full of rich and diverse experiences and encounters of every kind.  Our August 24th Sabbatical Celebration at Camp Long was a blast, and I’m grateful for the extra effort put in to make the event and the location work.  If you’ve been in worship at Peace the last month you’ve already heard a story or two from our travels.  Expect more. J  New places, people, and experiences have a way of opening our eyes and mind in new ways.

AND NOW… it’s time to TURN THE PAGE.  September, with its inevitable shifts and transitions, is upon us, and there are some significant opportunities for HANDS ON MINISTRY, beginning with Earth/Service Sunday on September 7th.   Special guests, music, and liturgy will mark our worship time, followed by a GOD’S WORK-OUR HANDS project.  It’s the kind of morning that promises to be both inspiring and fun, and we hope you’ll make a point of joining us—and while you’re at it, bring a friend, too!  (You can read more about the event under OUR WORSHIP LIFE below.)  September also marks the return of Sunday morning Christian Education classes @ 9:15am.  Rally Day is set for September 14th.  Food will be served, and all generations are invited.

ELCA Presiding Bishop Elizabeth Eaton has invited the congregations of our church into conversation around the question: Who is welcome and invited to receive Holy Communion in ELCA congregations?  Congregations across the church have answered this question differently—as have ecumenical partners—resulting in a variety of practices. Intentional conversation on this important question, as well as others connected to it, is timely.  On September 21, the Sunday Adult class will begin four weeks of study and conversation on this issue using resources made available for that purpose.  I hope that many of you will join us at 9:15am each week as we kick off the Adult Education year.

As I write, it’s the first day of school.  It comes none too late, for kids are usually eager for the routine at this point (not to mention parents) and yet, its arrival always somehow seems to catch us by surprise.  When summer becomes fall, schedules have a way of ramping up and calendars and commitments filling up.  Sports practices are in full swing with homework and other extracurricular activities soon to follow.  Sometimes it feels like all families can do is take a collective deep breath and dive in, hoping that we’ll have the stamina to keep our heads above water as the months unfold.  In the midst of this transition, comes a GIFT and reminder from one of my favorite poets, Denise Levertov (above).  Her poem reminds me that underneath everything, indeed, surrounding everything is a grace which buoys us up.  There is something of Sabbath in her poem.  As if to say, “Set those unwieldy schedules and commitments aside long enough to remember who waits for you beneath it all; to remember that GRACE, all-surrounding, is the wind beneath your wings.” 

One of the foci for our congregation during 2014 has been Sabbath, an intentional time set aside for resting in God and allowing ourselves to breathe.  As our life together becomes richer this month let’s remain tethered to this sacred pattern of stepping away and the invitation to “float into Creator Spirit’s deep embrace.” 

With you on the Way, 

Pastor Erik