I am not a RAGBRAI fanatic.

I am not a RAGBRAI fanatic. I’ve enjoyed it in the past and I’m looking forward to it this year, but I don’t think ‘everyone should do it.’ I don’t think ‘It’s the Best!’

In fact, being both Midwestern by birth and Lutheran by upbringing, I’m not really fanatical about very much. I find most things to be “just fine” and “pretty good.” But there are a few things about which I am passionate bordering on the kind of uncritical enthusiasm characterized by the word ‘fanatical.’

I am passionate about those I love. It’s not that I think they are perfect; it’s just that their imperfections don’t dampen my enthusiasm. I am passionate about some music and a few books. I am passionate about my mom’s peach pie (which Joe has learned to make this summer). And I am passionate about God’s love for humanity, all of humanity!

So… I am not a RAGBRAI fanatic, but it’s pretty cool and it starts in a few days and I think I’m ready! Five years ago a group of us from Grace, did an 80 mile day from Algona to Lake Mills. As our RAGBRAI day drew near, Dirk Swanson gave me the best encouragement. He said and I quote, “Remember, if you can do 10 miles you can do RAGBRAI, because there is a town every 10 miles.” That was both true and helpful. His other encouragement was, “Don’t forget that for every hill you have to climb, there is one you get to coast down.” That was also true and helpful.

When I did that 80 mile day 5 years ago, our church office was in the basement of Dr. Varcoe’s building. I’ll never forget how hard it was the day after to get down that long flight of stairs with my sore, stiff, sunburned body. (As I recall both Kim and Vicar Lang laughed when they saw me.)

Two years ago, John and Joe and I did the whole thing. It was the summer after I got divorced so our team named was BMC for Bill’s Mid-Life Crisis and the boys started to lovingly refer to the ride as “Dad’s death march across Iowa.” It was hilly and hot and hard, but I pedaled every mile and we made it.

This past winter as the announcement of the 38^th RAGBRAI route drew near, I asked the boys if they wanted to do it again. I was shocked when they said “yes” with more than a little enthusiasm. I didn’t realize that they had enjoyed it so much. I honestly thought they were just humoring me two years ago. So the route was announced and we signed up and now it’s almost upon us.

I like a lot of things about RAGBRAI: the food, the people, the colors, the small towns and scenery. But what I love best about RAGBRAI is the metaphor. RAGBRAI is life. (And this may be where you begin to doubt my earlier promise that “I am not a RAGBRAI fanatic.”)

RAGBRAI is life. I mean, RAGBRAI is a good metaphor for life.

For the rider, it has a very distinct beginning and end, from one river to another. A rider like me, who is interested in symbolism and metaphors will dip his or her back tire in the Missouri River at the beginning of the ride and then dip his or her front tire in the Mississippi at the end of the ride. For a Christian, life begins and ends with water too. On one end of the journey we’re baptized. On the other end with our caskets draped in a white cloth to remind us of that baptism, those gathered are told that our life, not matter how long or short, begins and ends as “a baptized child of God.”

RAGBRAI like life is a journey. It has its ups and downs, twists and turns, uphill struggles, head winds, break-downs, detours and those coasting downhill wind at your back moments too.

Along the way there are people. Some you will see only once, only briefly. Some you will see occasionally throughout the week. Some will be a part of your ride for a day or two. You may begin your ride with one person and end it with someone else altogether. There will be towns and food and music and storms and sleepless nights and mornings that come too soon. And then there will be that one last glorious day.

Two years ago the ride ended in Bettendorf. After a long ride, the last day was short and almost all down hill. Eventually we reached the last rise before a 3 mile coast down to the Mississippi. And while 10,000 riders have a tendency to spread out in the middle of the ride, on the last day there is a growing multitude of people in every imaginable color from all over the world all streaming to the same place. Emotional sap that I am, I’m writing this with a lump in my throat: if RAGBRAI is life, that last day is heaven!

So my bags are packed and my plans are made and if I don’t see you on the journey, at least I’ll see you soon.

Love,

Pastor

Miscellanous on July 20

Starting Simple: Conversations about the Way We Live by Bob Sitze. Ironically, I read this book with a distracted mind. The author’s major point is that we might live more joyfully and justly if we lived more simply. He believes social change begins with conversation, so he explores ways in which a Christian community might begin a conversation about living more simply. I think some people in our congregation might enjoy this book.

I’m giving up on The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. It’s just not doing much for me right now. Maybe I’ll pick it up again in another season.

I introduced a friend to the poetry of Billy Collins. This has reminded me how much I love Billy Collins!

I’m working on Running with the Horses by Eugene Peterson. The book is exploring the life and ministry of the prophet Jeremiah. So far it’s just ok.

Have I ever told you that I don’t like contemporary Christian music and why? I think all music revolves around a handful of basic themes: love, loss, death, despair, hope, etc. These themes are about life and the human condition and therefore implicitly about God and redemption. For me therefore, Christian music tends to “try too hard.” It feels a little too strident and preachy. Just give me the blues or a little soul or country; don’t worry I will recognize the human condition and God.

I feel something similar to this, when I read a ‘Christian’ book. Huckleberry Finn, for example is in no sense a "Christian" book, but it is a powerful exploration of the human condition and sin and struggle and redemption. I’m not against ‘Christian’ books; it’s just that they are often a bit too strident, too preachy. Sometimes they try too hard.

It’s been fun to have the time to explore a big pile of books, the ones I’ve enjoyed and the ones that have been just ‘ok.’

Thanks,

Pastor

Saturday, July 17 - Lutheran Church of Hope

I buy 95% of my groceries at Adel’s only grocery store: Shugar’s. I shop there for a lot of reasons, but mostly because it’s geographically convenient and I like its size. Shugar’s has everything I need without the mind-numbing varieties. Honestly, I don’t want or need 100 different kinds of coffee or 1,000 different kinds of breakfast cereal. I also like shopping locally,the idea that I’m supporting a business in my community with employees that are also my neighbors. Shugar’s is my grocery store.

I do, however, buy 5% of my groceries somewhere else and usually at Dahl’s on Hickman in Clive. Sometimes I shop there because they have that rare or special thing that I want only once in a while, something I can’t find at Shugar’s: a certain kind of wine or cheese or fruit.

This is how I felt last Saturday when I attended Lutheran Church of Hope in West Des Moines. Grace Lutheran Church in Adel is my church. It’s geographically convenient and I like its size. It gets my “business” 95% of the time. But 5% of the time, I really enjoy Lutheran Church of Hope for its size and variety. And here’s a secret, Hope is my church too!

Hope is my church too, because they are gracious and welcoming. They are my church too, because both Hope and Grace are congregations of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. Hope is my church too, because both Grace and Hope are the Body of Christ in the world, both faithfully proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ in words and deeds.

So for the record let me say a few things about Lutheran Church of Hope. I respect the people of Hope, both their leaders and their members, for their powerful ministry. I give God thanks for Lutheran Church of Hope. Additionally and on a more personal note, I have known and respected Hope’s senior pastor, Mike Householder, for many years.

So Joe and I attended a 5 pm worship service at Hope on Saturday, July 17^th. I’ve attended worship at Hope before but it’s been quite a few years and a lot has changed during that time. The biggest change is their new worship center, which seats 2,500 people! That was not a typo; it seats 2,500 people and on a hot July Saturday, it was mostly full. Incredible! Hope’s average weekly worship attendance is 7,000 people.

By comparison, Grace Lutheran Church’s sanctuary can accommodate 160 people and we have average weekly worship attendance of 150. Measured by attendance, Hope is 50 times bigger than Grace.

The worship experience was great and not quite my cup of tea. It opened with 3 or 4 praise songs. The leaders were gifted and the congregation seemed energized by the music. The music was well done, but I think I’d rather sing Amazing Grace or Bind Us Together, Lord or Borning Cry. This is not a criticism, just a preference.

After a few announcements, a lesson and the offering, Mike gave a very good 45 minute sermon. When I say it was “very good,” I mean that in my opinion it effectively communicated the gospel of Jesus Christ. It held my attention and engaged the congregation. Let me say that again, it held my attention for 45 minutes! That’s not ‘good,’ it’s miraculous! Not only that, but his message was remarkably simple. It wasn’t a lecture. He didn’t leave us with a 15 point program for reform. His simple message was ‘In Jesus Christ, God wills to replace our fear with Spirit empowered faith.’ At least that’s what I heard. Along the way he talked about the human condition (fear), the Bible (Daniel) and the good news of Jesus Christ. It wasn’t the best sermon I’ve ever heard, but it was very good; and did I mention that it was 45 minutes long!

So here’s what I’ve been thinking: how do you compare a 45 minute sermon with a 15 minute sermon? It’s like comparing the nightly newscast to a 2-hour documentary. It’s like comparing a 30-minute situation comedy to a feature length movie. It’s like comparing our weekly newspaper to the Sunday New York Times. Finally, while the longer and shorter may both serve the same purse and convey the same essential information, they are so different in form as to be almost different animals. (Mastiffs and Chihuahuas are both dogs. Don’t worry about the analogy, Mike and I both know who the ‘Big Dog’ is.)

Because the service we attended was built around a format that allows for a 45 minute sermon, other things were not present at this particular service: the brief order of confession and forgiveness, Holy Communion, the creed and the Lord’s Prayer. The people of Hope have decided that the trade off is worth it, at least for this particular service; and I respect them for that choice.

I respect that choice, but it’s not the choice that I would make for myself or my family on a regular basis. On a regular basis (maybe 95% of the time), I want and need to hear that my sins are forgiven. I want and need to pray the Lord’s Prayer with my community of faith. I want and need to confess my faith and receive the gift of Holy Communion.

This doesn’t mean I think Hope is wrong about their choice. It’s just not my choice. It’s not a criticism, just a preference.

So, I walked away from this worship experience thankful for and amazed by what God is doing in West Des Moines. I’m glad that Lutheran Church of Hope exists. And I was also reminded about some of the things that I’m thankful for about Grace Lutheran Church in Adel.

Peace,

Pastor

Starting Simple

“God created – but didn’t give away – the world and everything in it.

Jesus redeemed – but didn’t excuse – you from sin’s effects.

The Spirit emptied – but didn’t waste – God’s bounty of gifts on you and the rest of God’s people.

A theology of simple living starts with the proposition that everything you have, every ability you name, and every relationship that comes your way – all equip you for your primary role in life: to praise God and serve God and the people God has always loved.”

– from Starting Simple: Conversations about the Way We Live by Bob Sitze.

July 11, 2010 - Union State Line Lutheran Church in Petersburg, MN

Several months ago I told my mom about my plan to visit 13 different congregations during my sabbatical. She suggested that I visit some of the churches that had been important to my ancestors, including Union State Line Lutheran Church in Petersburg, Minnesota. This is the church that my Grandpa Gilbert (her dad) grew up in.

This grandpa died a few years ago and he was a great and interesting person: funny, smart, opinionated, judgmental, talented and honestly kind of a crank in his old age. This grandpa was a hardcore Republican, who always and only got his news from FOX News (fair and balanced). He liked to talk politics and was constantly disappointed and mystified by my mother’s liberal tendencies.

I knew him as a mature Christian and a lifelong Lutheran. Fifty years ago, he helped plant trees at the “new” Lutheran Lakeside Camp near Spirit Lake. He served on his congregation’s church council and building teams. Grandpa had a special relationship with his pastors. He couldn’t believe that they got a book allowance and continuing education time and vacations! He often accused them of getting their sermons out of a book of sermons, and he liked to joke that they only worked one day a week. If you remember Dan Lindquist, my grandpa was a lot like him. All joking aside, I think grandpa generally liked his pastors and was liked by them in return.

Over the years Grandpa told me several stories involving his childhood church experiences. During worship, he would often sit with his own ‘ancient’ grandpa (Anderson), who was hard of hearing and would pull out a gold pocket-watch periodically to see if the service was running long. My grandpa said he could remember exactly where he stood when he was quizzed by his pastor before being confirmed. And my favorite story of all was how when he was a teenager, grandpa and one of his friends stole a half a bottle of communion wine from the church and skipped worship to go skinny dipping in the east fork of the Des Moines River. What they forgot to consider in this otherwise well thought out plan, was that after worship the pastor would be shaking hands on the front steps of the church with a clear view to the river. And on that particular Sunday, the pastor could clearly see two slightly drunk boys skinny dipping in the river.

So I happily made plans to attend worship at Grandpa Gilbert’s childhood church in Petersburg, Minnesota on Sunday, July 11. The congregation was founded in 1871, with their present building being dedicated in 1921. Today they have 128 baptized members and average weekly worship attendance of 40.

Finding the worship time was frustrating. The church’s phone number was listed incorrectly on the ELCA webpage. Being a very small church, they don’t have a webpage of their own. When I got the right phone number and called it, there was no answer and no answering machine. I called the Southwestern Minnesota Synod office, but they didn’t know the worship time and couldn’t find it. Finally, I called a neighboring church whose secretary knew someone who attended Union State Line Lutheran Church. After a couple of phone calls, I was told that worship would be at 10:45 am. Coffee was usually served before worship at 10.

I know it’s hard to be a small church; I served one during my internship. And I’m sure that I have often taken for granted all the ways in which we try to communicate our service times: the answering machine, the banner next to the highway, and our webpage. Finding the worship time for this particular congregation has reminded me how important all of that is. I was a highly motivated visitor, so I kept looking for the time and finally found it; but what if I wasn’t high motivated? How hard would I have looked before giving up?

But that was the only frustration of the trip; the rest was pure joy.

We arrived early enough to walk through the cemetery and pay our respects to grandpa and grandma, and grandpa’s parents and grandparents. The cemetery is just a couple miles south of Petersburg and was the location of the original church. I saw a lot of churches with the cemetery in the front yard when I was in Germany a few years ago. Honestly I like the feel of it. It’s like the living and the dead are still together on Sunday mornings. After worship, children can be found playing among the markers of their ancestors.

We arrived at the church in time for coffee and treats in the basement. We were greeted warmly with several people getting up to welcome us and offer us a chair. When those gathered found out about my mom’s connection to Petersburg, it was almost like a family reunion. One person even remembered working in the old creamery with my mom’s grandma. Everyone was very nice and very welcoming.

Then we went upstairs for church. The un-air-conditioned sanctuary was beautiful: big and bright and old-fashioned. Its features included oak pews, stained glass windows, a bell ringing to announce the start of worship, a high pulpit, an ornate baptismal font, curved communion rail, balcony, hard wood floors, large front doors, oscillating fans and a very pleasant sound system. The sanctuary could hold 200 people, not including the balcony. On our Sunday, there were about 50 people in worship with a surprisingly nice mix of ages, from the very old to the very young.

The service was a traditional non-communion setting out of the green hymnal (LBW). The pastor was a young woman with a bright and cheerful manner. She serves two different churches in the area and was young enough to make me think this was probably her first-call. She gave a very fine sermon, one of the best I’ve heard this summer. It was simple and clear and full of the good news!

I’m a little biased, but I think there is something really powerful about a first-call pastor. After four years in seminary, they are really happy to finally be pastors. They are less cynical about congregations and more hopeful about the future. They tend to be ready to try new things and their enthusiasm is contagious. Congregations seem more willing to gracefully accept the gifts and short-comings of a new pastor. Anyway, this pastor and congregation had a really nice spirit on display on the Sunday we visited.

I wish Holy Communion would have been served, because I really wanted to kneel at that altar rail. It was something more than a half-circle, which was common in Scandinavian churches. Parishioners were told to imagine the back half of the circle filled by their ancestors in eternity. So, it would have been nice to have communion with my grandpa and his grandpa, maybe on another Sunday.

My grandpa once told me that he knew why I was a pastor. It was because his own mother (Clara) had once thought he should consider being a pastor. Perhaps the whole skinny dipping episode cured them both of that dream. In any event, Union State Line Lutheran Church has been important in my family’s life and I’m thankful for this congregation: then and now.

Peace,

Pastor

PS -- Don't miss the photos of Union State Line Lutheran Church that are a separate post.

Visiting the Cemetery on July 11, 2010

Union State Line Lutheran Church in Petersburg, MN on July 11, 2010

July 4 - Part 2

People sometimes ask me what I like best about being a pastor. I usually tell them that I love my job and enjoy almost all that it entails, but the thing I love the most is preaching. For me, preaching is like working through a puzzle. What does this text mean? What did it mean to those who first experienced it? What does it mean for those who will gather for worship next Sunday? How can I announce this good news?

Usually I think I’m an above average preacher; but Bishop Burk recently told me that every pastor thinks he or she is an above average preacher, so who knows. For good and obvious reasons, pastors usually don’t like critiquing each other’s sermons. For one thing, we know how hard preaching can be and how personal it is. For another thing, we’ve all given bad sermons before and we would each hate to be judged on just 1 or 2 sermons.

With that said, I am going to critique the sermon I heard on July 4. This critique and my experience with their praise service is why I have not mentioned the name of the congregation or the city in which it is located. I have no interest in hurting anyone’s feelings. Instead, I want to be candid with you so that we can both learn from the experience.

The sermon I heard on July 4 was just so-so. It had a few really good qualities and in my opinion one glaring failure. First let’s talk about the good qualities. The pastor preached in the middle of the room with his notes or manuscript on a music stand. I think preaching from a pulpit is sometimes very helpful, but in this setting his decision to be among us felt like a good one.

His preaching style was very nice: relaxed and conversational. His voice was like butter: smooth and rich. From a style perspective it could hardly have been better, because he was easy to listen to. Some might prefer a little more energy and perhaps with other sermons on different Sundays he has a more energetic style.

The sermon was what I would call a “teaching sermon.” In a regular sermon, the preacher’s task is to proclaim the good news. In a teaching sermon, by contrast, the main task is to educate. Now I’ll grant you that the line between the two is sometimes fuzzy and unclear. I have heard very good “teaching sermons” which also effectively proclaim the gospel. And I have heard very good “gospel sermons” which effectively teach. But fuzziness notwithstanding, the two are really very different. Think about it this way; in a teaching sermon, I might teach you how to make a pot of coffee. In a gospel sermon, I’m going to serve you a cup of coffee.

In a world where people are increasingly unclear about the tenets of their faith and increasingly unfamiliar with the Bible, teaching sermons are no doubt important. I should do more of them. But, and for me this is a big but, the central mission of the church and its pastors is to proclaim the gospel! Teaching is an important part of that mission, but finally with or without understanding we must serve the coffee. God loves you! Your sins are forgiven! I want you to understand it, but with or without understanding, I want you to experience it.

As teaching sermons go, this one wasn’t bad. His topic was one of the prophets and if you didn’t know anything about this prophet beforehand, you would probably have a much better understanding afterwards.

And then there was the ending where so many sermons including many of my own and this one fell apart, a stream of words dribbling down his shirt and ending up a giant soupy mess on the floor! It went like this: 10 minutes of pretty good teaching, 10 more minutes effectively telling me how dead I am in my sin and the human condition, followed by 5 minutes of ‘but the Holy Spirit can transform you.’ In other words, he educated me, he killed me, and then he didn’t quite resuscitate me, leaving me dead in the back pew more than 100 miles from home!

Luther once said that the only way he could muster the nerve necessary to preach was by taking comfort in the fact that after the sermon people would be receiving Holy Communion. For him this meant even if the sermon failed, people would be eating and drinking forgiveness that day. But this was a praise service with no communion, so when the sermon failed (as they sometimes do) I had no grace to fall back on.

It’s hard to proclaim the gospel effectively because it’s a mystery and hard to understand and contradicts so much of our world and experience. But the job of the church and its preachers is to proclaim the gospel. That’s why we get paid the big bucks. I don’t condemn this particular pastor for failing on this particular Sunday, but it was a disappointment.

So if you ever want to pray for me on a Sunday morning, the prayer I most desire is that God would help the preacher proclaim the good news. And if that fails, that God would call people to the table for Holy Communion. Grace, Grace, Grace!

Peace,

Pastor

July 4 - Part 1

On Sunday, July 4^th a friend of mine and I attended worship with a large ELCA congregation located more than 100 miles from Adel. The congregation has more than 1,500 baptized members. We attended the 11 o’clock praise service.

We got a little lost on our way to the church, so we were a few minutes late. Fortunately there was space for us in a back pew, so we didn’t have to disturbed those who had already gathered. These back pews were for us a very gracious kind of hospitality. It’s hard enough to visit a church for the first time, and harder still if you have to find a place to sit in the middle or worst of all, up front. I think perhaps we at Grace could do a better job of saving the back pews for visitors and late-comers.

This is how I remember the hour-long service: 3 praise songs, a prayer, a lesson, a long sermon (more than 20 minutes), another prayer, and 3 more praise songs.

The music was fine with a large number of vocalists up front and the usual instrumentation: piano, guitars, drums, etc. While the service was not well attended, it was the fourth of July after all, I gradually became aware of the fact that the congregation was not singing. Instead, we were listening to a performance.

The sermon will be Part 2 of this blog, so more about that later.

In addition to a lack of congregational singing, here’s what was missing from the service: the confession and absolution, the prayer of the day and the prayers of the church, the creed, the Lord’s Prayer, Holy Communion, the children’s sermon, and the sharing of the peace. I don’t even think an offering was collected, which all joking aside meant that I wasn’t given a chance to share in this congregation’s ministry.

While it felt like a typical “praise service,” I don’t honestly think that a praise service needs to be so devoid of the more traditional elements of Christian worship. With one or two fewer songs and a slightly shorter sermon, there would have been ample time for the creed and the Lord’s Prayer and a few minutes with the children. More importantly, I wanted to hear that my sins were forgiven; that is the good news, after all. And while I didn’t grow up with weekly communion, it has become an important part of my faith, so that it would be hard for me to attend a church or service that didn’t have that on an every Sunday basis.

It was a strange service and I didn’t like it. It didn’t feel like “church” to me; but as the saying goes, ‘different strokes for different folks.’ I should point out that this congregation’s other services are advertised as more traditional, so my reaction to this service shouldn’t be confused with a critique of this congregation’s whole life and ministry.

…more in part 2.

Peace,

Pastor