Farming

My plan had been to spend the last full week of my sabbatical at my brother’s cabin in northern Wisconsin. On the way there I was going to spend a day in Algona helping my dad on his farm. I enjoyed that one day so much, that I decided to spend the whole week farming instead of going to Wisconsin.

Let me give you two versions of my farming experience. Version number one goes like this… Dad needed help baling hay: lots of hay, thousands of pounds of hay! It was hot and dusty. It was hard work. And, who did my dad call to help? He didn’t call my brothers. He didn’t call my sister. He called me. Why? Well, I suppose he thought I could handle it. This version is sort of true.

Version number 2 goes like this… While we did make some hay the old-fashioned way (stacking bales on a rack by hand), we made most of the hay the new-fashioned way (big round and square bales moved around from the comfort of an air-conditioned tractor with good radio reception). And I’m pretty sure he called me because he knew I had some extra time on my hands this summer. My brothers and sister were busy. This version is truer than version number one.

My dad’s farm in Kossuth County is great. He has about 50 cows, many of them with calves. The fields and pastures are beautiful. I even saw the jack rabbits that he’s been talking about so much lately.

More than the help, I think my dad mostly enjoys the company. It was fun to spend that time with him, to hear the things he’s excited about and the things he worries about, to see how he spends his days. Even though it involved a little bit of work, it was a lot of fun. I think I should spend some more time on the farm when I can. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I enjoyed the work and the company and the time.

Pastor

Sabbatical by the Numbers

I worshiped with 15 different congregations.

(One congregation twice.)

I read 15 books.

I traveled more than 4,000 miles by car.

Duluth, St Paul, Jackson, MN... Chicago, IL... Van Meter, Whittemore, Des Moines, Nevada, IA

I pedaled more than 500 miles by bicycle.

I enjoyed many hours with my children, parents, grandpa, siblings & friends.

All in all a pretty incredible summer!

August 29, 2010

Last Sunday, which was my last Sunday on sabbatical, I attended St Paul Lutheran Church in Whittemore, Iowa. My dad grew up in this church. This is where he was confirmed. My grandma and great grandparents’ funerals were held in this church.

St. Paul’s is a beautiful old church, which this year is celebrating its 125th Anniversary. The congregation has 201 members and average weekly worship attendance of 65.

I couldn’t get the statistics from the LCMS webpage to work very well, but clearly this church has declined a lot since my dad was a child more than 50 years ago. He remembers a time when the congregation had more than one service on Sundays and when if you were late for a service you had to sit in the balcony because the main level would be too full. The main level looks like it could easily seat 200-300 people.

So imagine a congregation with seating for 250 people with 50 people scattered in the back half of the pews. There is a great distance between the people and the preacher. The singing is weak. The sense of community suffers. And even with no mortgage, I imagine it’s hard to keep the bills paid: salaries, maintenance on the building, mission and ministry.

The decline of a rural church in Iowa may be sad, but it’s no scandal or surprise. Rural Iowa and its small towns have lost a lot of their population in the last 125 years. Of course their churches have too.

But what should be done with struggling and shrinking congregations? Should they be closed by their denomination or allowed to wither away?

I think the decision finally belongs to the congregation. They can be a congregation as long as they have the will and the means to function. When they no long have the will or the means they will cease to be a congregation.

But while a congregation shrinks in size, they also have an opportunity to adjust their life to accommodate a new smaller reality. It’s like your elderly parents moving into a smaller home or a family getting rid of the minivan when they no longer have small children to transport.

If the sanctuary is too large, remove some of the pews. If a congregation can’t afford a full-time pastor, find a congregation that will share a pastor. If a congregation can no longer fully utilize their building, share the space with someone else: another congregation or a daycare center.

A declining congregation can be a sad place to worship, but congregations like people can find new life even in a time of decline. Plus, 125 years is nothing to sneeze at. I’m thankful for St Paul Lutheran Church.

Pastor

August 22, 2010

Last Saturday I went to the state fair with some friends. Of course it was a lot of fun. We saw the big boar, the butter cow and some draft horses. As always, there was some great people-watching. I especially enjoyed the photo exhibits. It was a hot day and when it was over I was pooped. No, make that POOPED!

And then it was Sunday morning and I wanted to go to church, but where? I was still a little tired from Saturday, so I didn’t really want any heavy lifting. Do you know what I mean? If I picked an unfamiliar place, there would be all the anxiety that goes with not knowing how “they” do things. If I picked a small place, I would have to explain who I was and why I was there and I was a bit too tired to be that social. I wanted an easy morning and a comfortable place to worship.

I went back to Hope for a lot of reasons. I’d been there before, so I knew what to expect. It’s huge, so while I might bump into someone I knew, I could also plan to get lost in the crowd; which I did. And with almost nothing that could be called “liturgy” it was an easy service to be a part of. Hope was the obvious choice and I enjoyed it very much.

If you will re-read the last two paragraphs, you will discover I think an important aspect of Hope’s phenomenal success. Sunday morning at hope can be easy and comforting and anonymous.

And then there was the sermon. I’m not going to try and rehash it, but it was great, both challenging and full of grace.

It was a nice weekend. This coming Sunday, I’m going to St Paul’s Lutheran Church in Whittemore. This is the church in which my dad was raised.

Sunday Morning - August 15

I went to church on Saturday at Memorial Lutheran Church in Nevada, so I was a little surprised when I wanted to go to church again on Sunday morning. But I did, so I did. It’s a habit I guess, a pattern that just feels right. Plus, it was a beautiful cool morning, making it a great day for a short drive with the top down.

A friend of mine (Susan Werner) is a singer-songwriter. Check out her song entitled Sunday Morning on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M-7N-aUda3E. If you like it, buy it on itunes. If you really like it, buy the whole cd; it’s great! (No, I’m not getting a commission on sales inspired by this blog… but I should.)

So on Sunday I attended worship at Faith Lutheran Church in Clive. The liturgy was traditional and well-done. The sermon (given by a friend) was helpful. Two things were great: the space and the attendance.

Have you been in this church before? It’s beautiful. With lots of windows, it’s sunny and bright and big. Like our church, the pews are arranged in a half circle around the altar. The font is large and located in the narthex as the entry-point to the sanctuary. The altar and pulpit are slightly elevated in the center of the room. I don’t know who designed it, but it’s really just a lovely worship space.

And then there was the attendance, maybe 200 people. The sanctuary felt full, not packed but full. Ask anyone, preacher or parishioner or musician, there is something about a full sanctuary that makes worship better. Of course the singing is better, but there is something more than that too. People are forced to sit a little closer to each other. There is a certain energy in the room. The sharing of the peace is noisier. The sight of people streaming to the altar for communion is more visually compelling. Everything is just better when the sanctuary is full.

When a disciple decides to attend worship, he or she brings their energy to the gathered community and makes it a better experience for everyone. That means that our attendance is a ministry of sorts. Even if an individual got nothing out of a worship experience (which I don’t think is really possible), he or she is making it a better experience for everyone else!

There is my neighbor! I can hear his voice. We heard the same Word proclaimed. She wished me God’s peace. He heard my prayer. She shared the body and blood of Christ with me.

My point is this… if there comes a day when you feel like skipping worship because you doubt you’ll get anything out of it, maybe you should come because of what your presence will mean for others. It means a lot and you might be surprised by what it means for you.

Peace,

Pastor

Saturday, August 14

I attended a 5 pm worship service at Memorial Lutheran Church in Nevada, Iowa on Saturday, August 14. It was a great experience, better in some ways than any other church I’ve visited this summer. The difference was that I did not attend worship at Memorial because I wanted to observe a new and different congregation, but because I wanted to worship with friends.

I was a member of Memorial for the 11 years before I became a member of Grace. My kids were baptized there. They sponsored and supported me when I was in seminary. I was ordained there. Their pastors have been pastors and mentors to me, and are now colleagues and dear friends. Worshipping at Memorial felt like going home to visit old friends; and that made if feel different and better than my other summer worship experiences.

There is a lesson in this feeling. No matter how big or small or rich or poor or historic or beautiful the congregations I’ve visited were, I was always just a visitor. Their pastors didn’t know me. There were no parishioners glad to see me in worship because we had history together, because we were friends. I was always just a visitor and that meant that the experience could never be as good for me as Grace Lutheran Church in Adel; but Memorial came closer than any other.

When I arrived and told a very nice greeter my name, she remembered me. When the pastor saw me walk into the sanctuary, he was glad that I was there. After worship was over, I bumped into people who knew my kids when they were babies and small children. All of this being known and remembered, that’s what makes a congregation feel special. That’s what makes it feel like home.

Have you guessed ‘it’ yet? I miss the people of Grace. I miss the rhythm of my work. I want to come home! As the summer winds down, that’s a pretty good feeling.

Peace,

Pastor

PS -- In addition to feeling at home, the worship service was lovely and the sermon was pure gospel.

Chicago -- August 7 & 8

I went to Chicago because I wanted to experience two churches: Willow Creek Community Church in the western suburb of South Barrington and Trinity United Church of Christ on the Southside.

Willow Creek is evangelical and non-denominational. It is also one of the nation’s largest mega-churches. One cannot help but be impressed by the sheer size of the place. I arrived at 3:30 pm for the 5:30 Saturday service, so I had some time to look around. The facilities are on a well manicured campus with multiple buildings, a huge parking lot and a large green space complete with a pond. I felt like I was on the campus of a small college.

Inside the main building were computer kiosks to welcome and orient visitors and a large cafeteria complete with at least 6 food lines where you could order everything from a salad to a slice of pizza to a steak dinner. There was a coffee shop, a large book store, and separate spaces for meetings and classes and smaller gatherings.

The main feature of the main building is an auditorium with seating capacity for 7,200. The auditorium is one of the largest in the United States and includes the kind of screens you would find in a sports facility. Before the service began I found a seat near the rail in the upper-most balcony. “Wow, this place is huge!”

The worship experience was a very typical “praise service.” It began with 30 minutes of music and ended with a 30 minute ‘sermon.’ Sprinkled in between were some prayers and announcements, an offering and a reading from scripture.

I’m not a huge fan of praise music, but one couldn’t help but enjoy it. A large and wealthy church can clearly employ some world-class musicians. And I have always thought that the best of any genre of music is powerful.

There was a guest ‘preacher’ so the senior pastor, Bill Hybels, was present only to make a few announcements, lead a few prayers and make an introduction. I was surprised by how ordinary he looked. I don’t know what I was expecting from this famous pastor and prolific author, but I honestly thought ‘you could plop this guy into any Lutheran church in Iowa and he would look the part.’ One thing that made me chuckle was the idea that no matter how big a church gets, the pastor always makes the same sort of announcements. “We’re really excited about such and such and hope you will stop by the sign-up sheet on your way out.” Bill Hybels and Bill Bernau, both pastors, do some of the same things during a worship service.

The guest ‘preacher’ was Dr. Henry Cloud who is a clinical psychologist and prolific author on the subject of boundaries in human relationships. On this Saturday he was giving the first of two ‘sermons’ on the subject of intimacy.

I should say that I’ve read several of Dr. Cloud’s books and I have a lot of respect for his expertise on his subject. It is also a little unfair to critique part 1 of a two-part ‘sermon,’ so take this critique for what it’s worth and add a large grain of salt.

It was a great ‘talk,’ informative and entertaining; but it wasn’t a ‘sermon.’ God was mentioned only in passing and the Gospel (as I understand it) wasn’t mentioned at all. This is important to me. A sermon can inform and give advice for a better life, but the imperative is to announce the Gospel. It can succeed or fail in any regard (to educate or entertain), but it must announce the Good News of God’s love in Jesus Christ. At least that’s what I think; so I was disappointed.

And that makes me wonder, who am I to criticize Willow Creek? This is a huge and successful church, which reaches something like 23,000 people every weekend. Still, if even for a day the emperor has no clothes…

When the service was over, I streamed out of the auditorium and building with everyone else. Over the course of three hours no one said ‘hello’ or shook my hand or asked for my name or if I needed any help finding a seat or following the service. Willow Creek was impressive, but it was a surprisingly lonely experience in a sea 5,000 people.

Hmmm… something to think about.

On Sunday morning at 6:00 am, I headed into Chicago for the 7:30 service at Trinity UCC on the Southside. When I entered the building the first and most noticeable thing was that I was the only white person in a sea of black people. I wasn’t really uncomfortable about this, but I did feel a little conspicuous. If I had been nervous, and maybe I was just a little, the people of Trinity made me feel very welcomed almost immediately. Within 5 minutes, two people asked me my name and where I was from and greeted me with a hug. One person near the door, who may have been an official greeter, told me that I would probably prefer a large print bulletin and a seat in the balcony where it would be easier to see.

One woman, who may have been the head greeter, welcomed me to “the best church this side of the Jordan.” She wasn’t boasting, just sharing her love for her church. When I told her that I was looking forward to hearing her preacher, she said, “Well you’re in for a treat.”

I have wanted to attend worship at Trinity for a long time. This desire started a few years ago at a preaching conference, where I had heard a sermon by their then senior pastor. During the 2008 elections, he was embroiled in a little controversy which I thought was terribly unfair to him. A few lines of his sermon were quoted out of context by politicians seeking an advantage over an opponent. I honestly don’t care who the preacher is, Jerry Falwell or Jeremiah Wright, conservative or liberal; it’s always wrong and unfair to take words out of context.

I also wanted to attend Trinity, because a former preaching professor of mine recommended their new pastor as a good example of African American preaching. So for lots of reasons, I was excited to be at Trinity.

Physically the worship space was nice but unremarkable. It was the warmth and energy of the gathered people that made it feel electric and holy. The space has one balcony and all of the pews, both up and down, arch around the pulpit in a half circle.

Behind the pulpit was a 30 member all male choir, led by a conductor and backed by a group of musicians: guitar, keyboard, drums, etc. I think the music could best be described as Soul Music, and it was great!

The first part of the service included music, announcements, prayers, scripture readings, a welcome to visitors, and the collection of an offering. As the sermon was beginning, I checked my watch because I wanted to know how long the sermon was when it was over. I was surprised to discover that we were already 90 minutes into what would be a 2 hour service!

And then there was the sermon. If you’ve never heard a good African American preacher before, it’s hard to describe, but I’ll do my best. It was spectacular, a thing of beauty. Reverend Otis Moss, III is a young man in his 30s, but his sermon was mature and majestic. It moved along at a rapid clip for the better part of 30 minutes. It was powerful and inspiring, clearly grounded in a Biblical text. It felt intellectually stimulating and challenging. Gospel based throughout, he touched on national politics and the brokenness of his own community and the goodness of God.

What is so often present in a good sermon in an African American church is a certain cadence, a rhythm. It builds and then slows and then circles around again. It’s poetry.

By the end of my experience with the people of Trinity, I had been hugged by at least a dozen people each of whom asked me my name and where I was from; and then so I knew that they had heard me, they called me by name. I joined in their prayers by holding hands with those seated beside me. It was a great experience and my idea of what church should be.

I don’t love Trinity UCC on the Southside of Chicago more than I love Grace Lutheran Church on the Southside of Adel, Iowa. Instead as a guest at Trinity I was reminded about some of the things I love best about being a member of Grace Lutheran Church: heartfelt music, the embrace of my neighbors and the announcement of the Gospel. So, if you live near Adel, Iowa come to Grace Lutheran Church where you are always welcome; but if you get anywhere near the Southside of Chicago stop by Trinity, because they will make you feel welcome and help you experience the Gospel.

All in all a great weekend.

Peace,

Pastor

Trinity Lutheran Church (LCMS) - August 1, 2010

On Sunday I attended Trinity Lutheran Church (LCMS) in Van Meter, which this year is celebrating its 125^th Anniversary. For an ELCA pastor attending worship at a Lutheran Church Missouri Synod congregation is kind of like drinking Pepsi instead of Coke; I know they’re both colas but they don’t taste quite the same.

I chose this church for two reasons. First, it was close and I was too tired from RAGBRAI to drive very far. Second and more importantly, my Grandpa Bernau was baptized in this church.

I love this congregation. I love the setting and the gift it was to my ancestors, who were married and baptized and buried there. The red brick church sits a few miles outside of town on the top of gentle hill at the intersection of two gravel roads. You can enter from the South or the East, but the South entrance is best, because it requires you to drive through the church cemetery. When you enter from the South, look to your left as you get close to the church and you’ll see BERNAU etched into a large granite stone marking the final resting place of my great-great grandparents: Wilhelm and Wilhelmina Bernau. (I was named after this grandpa; but my brothers use to claim that I was really named after this grandma.)

These are not my first ancestors buried near Van Meter. Wilhelm’s dad was named August Carl Bernau. He was an immigrant and is buried at Fairview Cemetery on Highway 169 between Van Meter and Winterset. He is buried there because when he died in 1883 the church and church cemetery hadn’t been established. (My dad and Joe like to point out the Fleur de Lis on August Carl’s tombstone. My great, great, great Grandpa was French. All these years later, Joe and my dad like to think of themselves as Frenchmen still.)

Not only does Trinity have a great setting, but it’s beautiful inside too. Instead of trying to describe it, look at my attached pictures. Old and traditional, it just feels like “church.”

Like the ELCA, the LCMS has a new hymnal. The liturgy felt very familiar and slightly more traditional than the settings we usually use. The congregation is currently served by an interim pastor who gave a fine sermon. After worship, everyone was very nice and welcoming. I introduced myself to one guy, who immediately asked if I was related the Bernau’s who use to live there. My grandpa and his family moved away in the 1920’s! What’s more, I was related to half a dozen people in worship, all of whom greeted me like the long lost relative that I was.

It was great fun. I didn’t go forward for Holy Communion, because the LCMS doesn’t welcome non-members to the communion rail. They have there reasons for this policy, but if I could wave a magic wand and change one thing about the LCMS, that would be the thing I would change. At a minimum, it would be nice if they welcomed other Lutherans for Holy Communion.

All in all it was a great Sunday and I thank God for Trinity Lutheran Church and the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod for all they have done for my ancestors over the last 125 years.

Peace,

Pastor Bernau

PS – I’m signing my blog “Pastor Bernau” instead of “Pastor” because this summer we’ve been reminded that we are served by other pastors too: Pastor Holmes and Pastor Woodley and Bishop Burk and others.

Missing Church - July 25, 2010

I didn’t attend worship on Sunday, July 25. I wanted to. I sort of tried to. But I just couldn’t make it work. John and Joe and I arrived in Sioux City on Saturday so that we could begin our RAGBRAI journey bright and early the next day. My original plan was to find a congregation’s Saturday night service to attend, but after we arrived and got our bags and bikes gathered up, finding food became a priority of some importance. So I didn’t attend worship on this weekend.

I have two reflections on the experience of missing worship: I don’t feel too guilty about it, but I didn’t like it.

Guilt is that inner sense of shame that comes from doing something ‘wrong.’ In my case, the wrong was skipping worship. Guilt is a funny emotion. Ideally, it serves as an inner compass keeping a person ‘on track.’ When I feel guilty about something I’ve done or said or not done or not said, it’s an inner call to repentance or change, and it’s often quite helpful.

Sometimes people try to cause others to feel guilt in unhealthy and unhelpful ways. Parents are the most common offenders followed closely by their main surrogate, the Church. For parents guilt is a short-cut. Instead of educating our children about how they should behave and why, we try to short-circuit the process with a little quick guilt. Instead of saying, “Eat your vegetables because they are really good for your body;” we say, “Eat your vegetables because there are starving children in Africa.” Instead of saying, “Clean your room because it will make your life easier and good hygiene will help you stay healthy and find a spouse and move out of my house someday;” we say, “Your room is a pigsty and it’s breaking my heart.” The appeal to guilt is a short cut and while it may produce some results in the near-term, in the long term it tends to produce resentment between the inducer and the induced.

Over the last two millennia, the church has often found itself in the roll of a surrogate parent. We try to teach and scold people into being good and doing “the right thing.” In the process, the Church like a tired and frustrated parent has sometimes resorted to “guilt” to short-cut the hard work of teaching.

Do you know what this sounds like? “God made the whole universe for you; and you couldn’t find one hour last weekend to worship?” “Christ died for your sins, and this is how you repay him?” Etc, etc, etc… The problem with guilt is, even if it produces some results in the near term, finally it builds resentment and alienation between the inducer and the induced! In the long term it just doesn’t work. Worse than that, it’s counter-productive.

My rule is this: Don’t tell people that they should go to worship; help them experience the gift of worship. Don’t try to guilt people into doing the ‘right thing;’ teach them with words and actions and example why the right thing is right, and beneficial and God-pleasing.

So I missed worship on July 25 and I didn’t like it. It wasn’t guilt primarily. It was that I wanted to be in worship to receive the gifts that are offered there: grace, forgiveness, love, fellowship, understanding, the Word, the Sacraments.

People sometimes say, ‘You don’t have to be in a church to worship.’ Maybe, but I’m not so sure. What if I said, ‘You don’t have to be on a golf course to play golf’? Or ‘You don’t have to be in a grocery store to buy groceries’? Or ‘You don’t have to be in a hayfield to make hay.’? On some level it’s really just nonsense.

Worship is what happens when a community gathers. You can love God outside of a church. You can pray and read scripture outside of a church. You can do a lot of God “things” away from a gathered community, but is it worship? At best, at most, it’s a pale imitation.

So I missed church and I didn’t like it. Instead I spent some time praying as I pedaled between Sioux City and Storm Lake. I thanked God for those I love and asked that God would keep them safe. I prayed especially for John and Joe and the other riders. And I prayed for the people of Grace. It wasn’t worship, but it was a good use of time.

More soon,

Pastor Bernau

RAGBRAI XXXVIII - In The Beginning

RAGBRAI XXXVIII - In The Middle

RAGBRAI XXXVIII - In The Middle

RAGBRAI XXXVIII - In The Middle

RAGBRAI XXXVIII - The Last Day