“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?  ⁵Yet you have made them a little lower than God, and crowned them with glory and honor.”

Psalm 8:3-5

The weather has finally warmed enough that I could sit out by the fire pit one night this week watching the flames as the stars began to appear in the sky.  I long for those evenings, which are too rare, when the world grows quiet for a little while, and I can breathe in the wonder of the world around me, and find a bit of respite from the crush of events long enough to remember what a blessing it is to live in this time and place.  Even more, what a blessing it is to live in the presence of our God who surrounds and fills our good days with grace, and supports and sustains our dark days with his peace.

We are entering the summer season, known in the church calendar as ‘ordinary time’.  That does not mean it is any way less important, only that the seasons of festivals like Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost are behind us.  Now is the time when we are called to live our faith day to day.  The church schedule may not be as full.  Sunday School and confirmation classes are in hiatus until September, and family calendars are rapidly filling with events as well.  But please don’t forget to take time, wherever you are, to breathe, and consider the wonder of being a part of God’s family.

The last months have shown me again and again what a powerful thing it is to belong to a family of faith.  It has been a wonder to see the courage, compassion and spirit of Christ in the words and actions of this community of faith.  Enjoy each day, each summer evening, as an opportunity to strengthen your family and your faith.  Don’t forget to worship, we all feel the loss when your seat is empty.  But even more don’t forget the constant presence and blessing of being a child of God.

“Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” ¹⁴I said to him, “Sir, you are the one that knows.” Then he said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.  For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. ¹⁶They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; ¹⁷for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”  Revelation 7:15-17

There are days when the words of Revelation seem far off from our experience.  Fine spring days like today when the sun is shining, life is bursting out all around, and the warm spring breeze invites you to enjoy the moment.  During days like today we don’t always feel our need of a vision for something greater, there is so much to enjoy right here and now.

But for this community and for so many families in our midst, the reality of pain and loss has been all too real.  The past several months have brought blow after blow, and it would be easy to become frightened or discouraged.  That’s when we need to sit and listen again to the promise.

When I served as the pastor of three churches in Blair, WI, it seemed that for nearly every funeral we would hear the words of Revelation sung in the hymn. “Behold a Host Arrayed in White”  (though actually it was the Norwegian version:  “Den Store Hvide Flok”).   Sometimes to a young pastor like me it seemed kind of quaint and sentimental, but today I hear these words with a new appreciation for the promise they contain.   “They will hunger no more, and thirst no more…and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Each time the tears flow, and the world is shaken, I need that good news that was first announced on Easter.  Death is not the last word.  Suffering does not overwhelm us.  We belong to the God who will gather his own, and wipe away every tear.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead”  I Peter 1:3

Christ is Risen!  He is Risen indeed!  We say it every Easter, but it remains the central truth about the Christian faith.  As Peter said, it is the resurrection that gives us new life, and living hope, even today.   I find myself depending upon that hope more and more.  The past weeks and months have reminded all too often how powerful and unpredictable the power of death is in this world.

Easter is not about the natural cycle of spring returning to the northern hemisphere, nor about the re-birth of the seeds buried deep in the earth.  It is the audacious announcement that the powers of death can not have the last word.  I need to hear that word, speak that word, and live that word, because the news of the day seems intent on drowning it out.

May the good news of Easter fill your ears, minds, hearts and homes this season.

Many thanks for all your prayers and greetings of concern for my family these past weeks.  Tom is recovering well from his recent appendectomy, and my mother is rehabilitating her repaired hip.  She especially wants to thank all of you who have sent cards and greetings, they are very much appreciated.

“This life, therefore, is not godliness but the process of becoming godly, not health but getting well, not being but becoming, not rest but exercise. We are not now what we shall be, but we are on the way. The process is not yet finished, but it is actively going on. This is not the goal but it is the right road. At present, everything does not gleam and sparkle, but everything is being cleansed.”

– Martin Luther

Probably most parents have, at one time or another, heard the plaintive question from the back seat:  “Are we there yet?”  Often the time of Lent in the church is referred to as a journey, but perhaps that language should refer to the whole of our life of faith.  As Luther points out in the quotation above, we are not a finished product in this life, we are not there yet.  We do not graduate from Sunday School or confirmation, and suddenly have every answer for every situation, but we walk in the presence of Jesus’ promise to be with us each step of the way.

This means we humbly ask each day for this day’s bread, for this day’s wisdom, and this day’s courage to take our steps in faith toward God and love toward one another.  When we do this we can allow our eyes and ears to be open to God’s calling this day.  The mistakes of yesterday can be washed away.  The challenges today will be different, and the opportunities to serve will change with our own experiences, strengths, and the situations this day brings.

We’re not there yet.  But God is still working within us.   As we read a couple Sundays ago:  “And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.”  —  2 Corinthians 3:18

God’s blessings on this day’s journey!

“I will sing to the Lord as long as I live;
I will sing praise to my God while I have being.” Psalm 104:33

This verse was quoted at the conclusion of Ben Larson’s obituary.   In last Sunday’s sermon I mentioned that Ben was a friend to our family who passed away during the earthquake in Haiti.  Upon returning to this country his widow, Renee, gave an interview quoted here from the ELCA news service:

“All he wanted was to be a pastor in this church,” Renee said.
The three senior students at Wartburg Seminary, Dubuque, Iowa, went to Haiti to teach Lutheran theology to members and pastors of the Lutheran church during the seminary’s January term.  That all changed on Jan. 12, when a severe earthquake struck Haiti.  At the time of the quake all three were together in the St. Joseph Home for Boys.
“We were all together on the same floor,” when the building began to shake, Renee said. “We all kind of panicked and started running.  Jonathan and I were together. (Ben) was hugging a pillar in the middle of the floor.  I turned and I saw him, and I saw concrete starting to fall on him.  I called for him and started running toward him.”
At that moment the two floors above collapsed on them.  Jonathan and Renee were trapped for a short time, but managed to squeeze out onto the roof of the building and called for Ben, she said.  The collapsed building continued to shift as the aftershocks continued, Renee said.  The two went back to the place where they had crawled out and called again for Ben.  Renee said she heard Ben’s voice.  He was singing, not unusual for Ben who loved music. “I told him I loved him, and that Jon and I were okay, and to keep singing,” Renee said. But the singing stopped after he sang the words “God’s peace to us we pray,” she said.
“If he was alive, he would have been calling for help desperately,” Renee said. “Ben spent his last breath singing.”

I am saddened by the loss, and humbled by the kind of faith that sings to the very end.  It makes me consider how I live out my rather ordinary days.  Is my life one of praise for the tremendous good gifts we share everyday?  If confronted with the end, could I summon the courage and strength to sing?