June 30, 2010

The gift of a sabbatical is the really the gift of time, a generous and lavish amount of time. I have been enjoying this gift and want to share some random reflections with you.

My grandpa (Roland Bernau) is 96 years old and is currently living in a nursing home in Algona, Iowa. A friend of his (and now mine) is working on a book about his life, or maybe more accurately a part of his life. So I have had the chance to spend many hours over the course of several days talking to grandpa about his life, his marriage and childhood, his victories and defeats, his adventures. He is an interesting person, whose health is failing, but whose mind is sharp and clear. This time with him is a gift, for which I am very thankful.

I have now worshiped with 5 different congregations and making plans for more. Each of them has been so different. They are starting to give me a glimpse of the larger church and helping me to see clearly what I love about Grace.

A friend asked me if I miss you yet; or was it “my church” or “my work”? In true Lutheran fashion, the answer is of course “Yes” and “No.” I miss the people of Grace. I miss seeing you and hearing your voices and your stories. I especially miss those moments on Sundays and Wednesdays when we say ‘hello’ and ‘how are you.’ I miss the kids, their hugs and their “Pastor, do you know what?” and their fingers sticky from a mid-worship treat or better, wet from the baptismal font.

So yes, of course I miss you. But I’m also enjoying this gift of time, this past month and what lies ahead.

I just finished a great book: Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer. It is a powerful story, at times hilarious and profound and tragic. I want to recommend it, except that to do so is to recommend that the reader enter into a tragic and painful story. (So be warned.) And isn’t that way of life? When we enter into relationships, be it a congregation or friendship or love or parenthood, we enter into someone’s story. And everyone’s life includes the humorous and profound, the tragic and triumphant. Be warned: every story and every life is a powerful one.

There is a saying, African I think, that God so loved stories that humankind was created so that God would have an infinite supply. We are all stories: powerful and humorous, tragic and triumphant. Be warned… and in the words of the angels, ‘fear not.’

After almost two weeks of retreat and solitude in the north woods of Wisconsin, I spent two weeks with John and Joe. I’ve never liked the word “proud,” as in, “I’m proud of my kids” because it always feels a little too self-congratulatory, as in ‘Look what great children I have produced.” Instead I want to say that I’m thankful for my kids and delight in who they are and who they are becoming. So we’ve been hanging out and enjoying (at least I am) some uninterrupted time together.

That’s enough for now. I am happy and thankful, and hope you are too.

Peace,

Pastor