Faithful Conversations #137

Introduction to Readers

“Optimism is a passive virtue, hope an active one. It needs no courage to be an optimist, but it takes a great deal of courage to hope. The Hebrew Bible is not an optimistic book. It is, however, one of the great literatures of hope.” (Rabbi Jonathan Sacks)

Lately, I find myself praying for clarity on how to bring a faithful presence into our fractured world. I’ve also been thinking about children and the world they’re experiencing. In the October issue of The Christian Century, Presbyterian minister Maryann McKibben Dana shares a striking moment from a conversation with a friend. The friend pointed out that those who rage at every headline often do so from the comfort of safety—far removed from the daily grind of people fighting just to get by. While some shout from the sidelines, others carry the weight of survival in silence. Dana’s reflection flips the lens, reminding us that outrage can be a privilege not everyone can afford. As Christians, we are called to purveyors of hope in our world, not glittering optimists who dance in superficiality, and as Rabbi Jonathan Sacks suggests, God’s word grounds us in that hope. Keep that in mind as you work through this week’s readings. And let’s stay excited that many in our midst have taken on the challenge of reading the Bible through in one year!

We have reached Pentecost 18 and soon will mark the 508th anniversary of the Reformation (26 October). We have two commemorations on our calendar this week: William Tyndale (died on 6 October 1536) was a groundbreaking English scholar, linguist, and Protestant reformer best known for translating the Bible into English directly from Hebrew and Greek texts—a radical act that challenged both ecclesiastical authority and political power; and Henry Melchior Muhlenberg who died on 7 October 1787. Born in Einbeck, Germany (1711) and deeply influenced by Pietism, he was ordained in 1739 and emigrated to Pennsylvania in 1742, serving scattered German-speaking Lutheran communities in the pre-Revolutionary period. Among other things, he kept detailed journals that remain invaluable for understanding early American Lutheranism and religious life in the colonies. One other notable fact is that Muhlenberg’s son Peter became a soldier of renown during the Revolutionary War.

Thanks for visiting this venue again this week and for your continued interest in the Lectionary. My reflections will focus on the readings from Jeremiah and Luke. I’m also including a prayer dedicated to the refugees in our midst and musical selection that focuses on the children in our world (generally), and especially those who have been displaced.

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!

** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

Common Themes Among the Readings

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
A Revision of the Lectio Divina (Augustinian)

Three Steps
Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

Alternate First Reading: Jeremiah 29: 1, 4-7

29 These are the words of the letter that the prophet Jeremiah sent from Jerusalem to the remaining elders among the exiles and to the priests, the prophets, and all the people whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon.

⁴ Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: ⁵ Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. ⁶ Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. ⁷ But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.

Gospel: Luke 17: 11-19
¹¹ On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. ¹² As he entered a village, ten men with a skin disease approached him. Keeping their distance, ¹³ they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” ¹⁴ When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. ¹⁵ Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. ¹⁶ He prostrated himself at Jesus’s feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. ¹⁷ Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? So where are the other nine? ¹⁸ Did none of them return to give glory to God except this foreigner?” ¹⁹ Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”

Reflection: Strangers in our Midst

This week’s readings from Jeremiah and Luke offer profound insights into the presence—and the power—of the foreigner in our midst. In Jeremiah 29:1, 4–7, the prophet pens a letter to the exiles in Babylon—a displaced people, torn from Jerusalem and thrust into foreign soil. His message is startling in its realism: “Build houses and live in them… seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile.” Rather than resist or retreat, the exiles are called to engage, to bless, and to pray for the flourishing of the very place that holds them captive. This summons is both unsettling and deeply hopeful. Historically, this letter was written after the first wave of deportations in 597 BCE, when King Jehoiachin and the Judean elite were taken to Babylon. Archaeological records confirm that these exiles were not merely prisoners—they were artisans, officials, and laborers integrated into Babylonian society. Jeremiah’s call was radical: live faithfully among foreigners and recognize that God’s presence is not confined to Jerusalem. The stranger becomes neighbor, and exile becomes a crucible for spiritual renewal. It’s a vision that redefines exile—not as punishment, but as possibility.

More than six centuries later, in Luke 17:11–19, Jesus encounters ten lepers on the borderlands between Galilee and Samaria. These men are doubly marginalized—by disease and geography. Yet it is the Samaritan, the foreigner among them, who returns to give thanks. Jesus’ response is telling: “Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” The outsider becomes exemplar, the one who sees clearly and responds with gratitude. This encounter unfolds in a region scarred by ethnic division and religious mistrust. Samaritans were viewed with suspicion by many Jews, their worship practices deemed impure. Yet here, the Samaritan’s faith transcends boundaries. All ten are healed, but only one is made whole—his gratitude becomes the gateway to deeper restoration. Once again, Jesus throws us a curveball.

Together, these passages challenge us to reconsider our posture toward the foreigner. Jeremiah urges rootedness and blessing in unfamiliar places. Luke reveals that grace often flows through those we least expect. In both, God’s movement is not confined to the familiar or the favored—it pulses through exile, borderlands, and gratitude. As so often in Scripture, these ancient voices speak directly into our present moment. As migration and displacement continue to rock the global political environment, and cultural tension shapes our communities, these texts beckon us toward prophetic realism and gospel hospitality. The foreigner is not merely among us—they are often the vessel of divine insight. To dwell faithfully is to seek the welfare of the stranger, and to recognize that healing and thanksgiving may come from unexpected voices. Hope is all around us if we choose to see it.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Prayer Reflection: Prayer for Refugees and Migrants

Lutherans have a strong tradition in the world of immigration. Formed in 1939, Global Refuge (formerly Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services), has been active in the world for 86 years. The following prayer is an interpretation of a prayer suggested within their resources and also inspired by Psalm 146. We know that children, in particular, are caught within the various forces of displacement in our world — political conflicts, civil wars, and famine just to name a few.

God of mercy, who watches over the stranger and lifts up the brokenhearted, guide us to walk with refugee families seeking peace and home. Bless the mothers, fathers, and children who flee danger. Heal their wounds, restore their hope, and let your love be their shelter. You uphold the cause of the oppressed and give food to the hungry. Make us instruments of your justice—welcoming, compassionate, and brave. Open our hearts to see your image in every migrant and asylum seeker. Lead us to serve with light and love. End the violence that drives them. Stir the hearts of nations to build a world where no child must flee again. The Lord reigns forever. In your mercy, hear our prayer. Amen.

“Bless the mothers, fathers, and children who flee danger. Heal their wounds, restore their hope, and let your love be their shelter.“

A Musical Offering: Prayer of the Children (Kurt Bestor)

Having spent my adult life with young people, I find so much of our modern environment harmful to children — perhaps, like many of you, legacy is on my mind. What kind of world are we leaving to our children? One of the heartbreaking realities of our world today, as has been true throughout history, is the suffering of children. There are so many contemporary examples. As of the end of 2024, for example, nearly 49 million children were forcibly displaced worldwide due to conflict, violence, and disasters (40% of all refugees). Additionally, having reached my elder years, I grieve for the example our young people see around them growing up. Surely, we can do better. The powerful message of Bestor’s song resonates.

**My statistics are drawn from the Stop Child Labor website.

Faithful Conversations Updates

Join us for some free-flowing conversation about the Lectionary readings each Sunday. We meet from 10:45-11:30 in the church library each week, with some exceptions. No prior knowledge is necessary! ALL ARE WELCOME! And, let’s discuss these questions when we gather (or any other questions you would like to raise for the group!):

1. Why did Jeremiah instruct the captive Israelites (verses 4-7) in the manner he did?

2. What does the Samaritan’s gratitude teach us about recognizing grace in unexpected places—and voices? Who are the “foreigners” in your life whose faith or insight has challenged you to see more clearly?

📖 THIS WEEK’S BIBLE 365 READING CHALLENGE:

Monday 6 October: Genesis 25-28 and Psalm 8
Tuesday 7 October: Genesis 29-31 and Psalm 9
Wednesday 8 October: Genesis 32-34 and Psalm 10
Thursday 9 October: Genesis 35-37 and Psalm 11
Friday 10 October: Genesis 38-40 and Psalm 12
Saturday 11 October: Genesis 41-42 and Psalm 13
Sunday 12 October: 43-45 and Psalm 14

Here is a LINK to the full Bible 365 Plan!

Faithful Conversations #135

Introduction to Readers

“Education is much more a matter of the heart than of the head.” (Gordon Thunder)

I spent my early years in this community (ages 5 to 15), then returned in 1990 at age 33 after nearly twenty years away. Since then, I’ve witnessed many familiar faces journey on—a steady rhythm of loss that sometimes seem to come in waves. Across cultures, people honor elders as wisdom keepers, and their passing reminds us of the sacred cycle of exile and return, of memory, renewal, and life beyond this life. Last week, we lost Gordon Thunder, a gracious man who, with his sister Charity, helped me see the world through Indigenous eyes. They often visited my classroom, sharing stories of history, language, and culture that left lasting impressions on my students. During one visit in the early 1990s, Gordon spoke the line offered above that struck me as both simple and profound—I scribbled it down and have shared it with thousands of students since. It speaks to the heart of education: not just knowledge, but empathy, connection, and transformation—companions I carry with me in my exploration of the scriptures each week. In Ho-Chunk tradition, the death of an elder marks a sacred journey back to Earthmaker, who formed humans from clay and gave them a soul. Guided by prayer, song, and offerings, this journey leads the soul home, echoing the Christian hope of returning to our Creator, where rest and reunion await. You will note a connection to these themes in the musical selection I’m offering further on in the blog.

Thanks for your visit to this space again this week. Incredibly, we are rounding the corner into October and will be engaged in our Bible 365 Challenge. I am reminded each and every week that God’s Word is vast and powerfully relevant in every age. My reflections will focus on the Amos passage again this week, noting how it intersects with Luke 16. Note the prompts for discussion in the Faithful Conversations update at the end of the blog — we will utilize those for our in-person discussion on Sunday.

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!

** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

Common Themes Among the Readings

The First Reading: Amos 6: 1a, 4-7

Woe to those who are at ease in Zion
    and for those who feel secure on Mount Samaria,
the notables of the first of the nations,
    to whom the house of Israel resorts!

Woe to those who lie on beds of ivory
    and lounge on their couches
and eat lambs from the flock
    and calves from the stall,
⁵ who sing idle songs to the sound of the harp
    and like David improvise on instruments of music,
⁶ who drink wine from bowls
    and anoint themselves with the finest oils
    but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph!
⁷ Therefore they shall now be the first to go into exile,
    and the revelry of the loungers shall pass away.

The Gospel: Luke 16: 19-31

¹⁹ “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. ²⁰ And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, ²¹ who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. ²² The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham.^[a] The rich man also died and was buried. ²³ In Hades, where he was being tormented, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side.^[b] 24 He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in agony in these flames.’ ²⁵ But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things and Lazarus in like manner evil things, but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. ²⁶ Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’ ²⁷ He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house— ²⁸ for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ ²⁹ Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ ³⁰ He said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ ³¹ He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’ ”

Reflection: How Much is Enough?

In 1821, British poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (b. 1792) wrote a line that still rings true: “The rich have become richer, and the poor have become poorer.” He was watching the rise of industrial England—a world where wealth piled up for the few while the many labored in worsening conditions. Shelley’s lament wasn’t just poetic—it was prophetic. And yet, the cry he voiced wasn’t new. Centuries earlier, the prophet Amos stood in the northern kingdom of Israel and spoke with fire. His words cut through the comfort of the elite: “Woe to those who are at ease in Zion… who lie on beds of ivory… who drink wine in bowls… but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph!”

Amos, like all prophets, spoke into a particular moment. His ministry unfolded during the reigns of King Uzziah of Judah and King Jeroboam II of Israel—a time of booming trade, expanding borders, and political stability. On the surface, things looked good. Israel was thriving. But beneath that prosperity, the poor were being crushed, justice was for sale, and worship had lost its soul. Amos wasn’t part of the establishment. He was a shepherd and fig farmer from Tekoa—called to speak truth in the king’s sanctuary at Bethel. And he didn’t mince words. He didn’t condemn wealth itself, but wealth without justice, comfort without compassion, and rituals that ignored righteousness.

That message still speaks. As Juliana Claassens points out in a sharply written commentary, “An online search for who, most recently, has been drawn to this book (Amos) steeped in the pursuit of justice and righteousness, is telling: Results show many scholars from the Developing World concerned about the state of their people in impoverished countries where the rich are getting richer and the poor poorer—for example, Nigeria, Zimbabwe, Myanmar, and parts of Latin America.” As Claassens asserts, these communities face unfair labor systems, resource extraction by the Global North, and corruption from within. Claassens reminds us: Amos’s call for justice is not abstract. It’s urgent. It’s real. It’s now.

As Christians trying to live out our faith, we might ask ourselves, how much is enough? If someone is a billionaire, do they need many billions? What happens when abundance becomes blindness? That question echoes in Luke 16, where Jesus tells the story of the rich man and Lazarus. The rich man feasts daily, dressed in purple and fine linen. Lazarus lies at his gate, covered in sores. After death, their roles reverse—but the rich man’s vision doesn’t. He still sees Lazarus as a servant, not a neighbor. The chasm between them, once social, becomes eternal. Amos and Jesus both confront us with the moral danger of indifference. They remind us that ease is not innocence, and that comfort can become complicity. To lie on beds of ivory while others sleep on concrete is not just unfortunate—it’s unjust. To feast while others hunger is not just a lifestyle—it’s a spiritual crisis.

And so, back to Shelley. His lament is more than a line—it’s a summons. (Sidebar: Shelley’s was deeply skeptical of organized religion because he thought it was used to justify inequality and moral hypocrisy, something you may want to explore further). How much is enough? Enough to lift the fallen. Enough to mend the breach. Enough to remember that every Lazarus at the gate is a child of God.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Note: I am indebted to Juliana Claassens, Old Testament Professor at the University of Stellenbosch in Stellenbosch, South Africa for her commentary on the Amos passage. You may find the commentary at Working Preacher, a site sponsored by Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Prayer Reflection: A Future Not Our Own (Oscar Romero)

It helps now and then to step back and take a long view. The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work. Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said. No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession brings perfection, no pastoral visit brings wholeness. No program accomplishes the Church’s mission. No set of goals and objectives include everything.

This is what we are about. We plant the seeds that one day will grow. We water the seeds already planted knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities. We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing this.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders, ministers, not messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.

Saint Óscar Arnulfo Romero y Galdámez was a Salvadoran Roman Catholic archbishop renowned for his courageous advocacy for human rights and the poor during El Salvador’s civil unrest. Initially seen as conservative, Romero became a prophetic voice against government repression, denouncing violence from both state forces and guerrilla groups. He was assassinated while celebrating Mass on March 24, 1980, and later canonized as a martyr and saint by the Catholic Church in 2018.

A Musical Offering: Suiderkruis (Southern Cross)
by Jacques de Villiers

Suiderkruis (Southern Cross), composed by Jacques de Villiers and arranged by André van der Merwe, is a choral elegy that mourns the loss of homeland and honors the elders whose lives once anchored its memory. The Southern Cross shines as a celestial guide for those in exile, not only pointing the way home but illuminating the spiritual path beyond death—a journey through silence, longing, and ancestral remembrance. Sung in Afrikaans, its haunting lyrics ask whether we are still remembered, whether anyone stands beneath the stars to welcome the soul’s return, as the music swells from quiet lament to transcendent yearning—a requiem for the departed and a compass for those who remain. The song spoke to me in navigating the recent passing of several elders in our faith community and beyond.

Faithful Conversations Updates

Join us for some free-flowing conversation about the Lectionary readings each Sunday. We meet from 10:45-11:30 in the church library each week, with some exceptions. No prior knowledge is necessary! ALL ARE WELCOME! And, let’s discuss these questions when we gather:

1. Drawing from Juliana Claassens’s insight: How does Amos’s cry for justice speak to the realities of economic exploitation in places like Nigeria, Myanmar, or Latin America? What responsibilities do those of us in the Global North carry in light of these imbalances?

2. Let’s talk about the “prophetic imagination.” Amos and Jesus both confront systems of indifference. If you were to write a modern-day parable or prophetic lament in the spirit of Amos 6 or Luke 16, what would it sound like? Who are the “Lazaruses” at our gates today—and what would it mean to truly see them?

📖 ARE YOU READY TO READ THE BIBLE IN A YEAR?
Starting on Monday 29 September, join our Bible 365 Challenge—a yearlong journey through Scripture for individuals, families, and groups. Luther once said, “The Bible is alive… it lays hold of me.” Whether you choose the print path or go digital, we’ll grow together—with daily readings, mutual support, and spiritual connection. Pastor Jen will offer a “Bible Reading Kick-Off Class” on 28 September at 11:00 in the Gathering Area.

As of last Sunday, 50 people had signed up to undertake the challenge! ALL ARE WELCOME!

Faithful Conversations #131

Introduction to Readers

“The big majority of Americans, who are comparatively well-off, have developed an ability to have enclaves of people living in the greatest misery almost without noticing them.” — Gunnar Myrdal (1898-1987)

We live in a time marked by deep divisions. This week’s readings from Proverbs and Luke revolve around meals, invitations, and where people sit, both literally and metaphorically. The closing verses of Luke’s Gospel (14:13–14) remind me of a story my father shared with me many times. During his World War II training (1943), prior to his deployment to the Italian theater, he witnessed something that stayed with him for life (sidebar: much of his training took place in the South, but this incident was in a different region of the country. Also, a reminder that the US Military was not integrated until 1948). One evening, while eating with fellow soldiers, a Black man entered the restaurant and sat nearby. Unk’s training partner—a young lad from Georgia—suddenly stood up and left, visibly shaken and nearly sick. The reaction stunned Unk. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so shaped by racial prejudice that the simple presence of another person caused such a visceral response. I believe that moment, quiet but powerful, opened his eyes to the deeper divisions in the country he was preparing to defend. As a nineteen-year-old northern boy, he had never seen anything like it. Swedish economist and sociologist Gunnar Myrdal’s famous study, The American Dilemma: The Negro Problem and Modern Democracy, published around that time (1944), highlighted the deep contradiction between the United States’ democratic ideals and its systemic racism. Myrdal saw a deep spiritual crisis at the heart of American life: a nation that preached liberty and equality yet built systems that denied those very gifts to Black citizens. This contradiction, especially in the conscience of white Americans, became a kind of moral blindness—one that sustained injustice across generations. He believed that only by naming and repenting of this hypocrisy could the nation begin to walk the path of true reconciliation and justice. Though time has passed and progress has come, I believe we are still called—eighty-one years later—to wrestle with this same brokenness and seek healing with honesty, humility, and hope. More on this later in my reflection.

Thanks for your continued interest in the Lectionary and for returning to this space! This week (August 28th) the ELCA commemorates both Augustine, Bishop of Hippo (CE 354-430), and Moses the Black, 4th Century monk and martyr. Recall that Martin Luther had Augustinian training under the guidance of Johann von Staupitz, who encouraged Luther’s deep engagement with grace, sin, and faith. This training laid the foundation for Luther’s theological breakthroughs, as he later drew heavily on Augustine’s writings while developing his own reformist ideas. And, a reminder — the modified version of the Lectio Divina I include each week, comes from Augustine. As for Moses the Black, his fascinating story is new to me, and I encourage you to read about him here.

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!

** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

Common Themes Among the Readings

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
A Revision of the Lectio Divina (Augustinian)

Three Steps
Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

Reflection: “Welcoming Angels, Mending Wounds”

On Sunday morning (yesterday), I had a “Holy Spirit moment” while listening to the first reading from Isaiah (thanks Sue Leadholm, for your reading, and also Pastor Jen for helping me think further regarding exclusion!). One verse stood out with unusual force—Isaiah 58:12: “You shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.” A bit of background for context: Isaiah 58 is a prophetic call to authentic faithfulness, where God—through the prophet—challenges hollow religious rituals and redirects attention toward justice, mercy, and community restoration. The chapter opens with a rebuke: the people are fasting and seeking God, but their actions are disconnected from righteousness—they exploit workers, quarrel, and ignore the oppressed. Instead of empty gestures, God calls for a fast that loosens the bonds of injustice, frees the oppressed, shares bread with the hungry, and shelters the homeless. It was that phrase—repairer of the breach— that stopped me in my tracks. It felt powerfully relevant and a call for Christians today, especially in a world so divided and wounded. It’s an age-old problem — excluding others — but listen for it in the daily news cycle! We are meant to be people who help mend what’s broken, who rebuild trust, and who provide space for others to live with dignity and hope. As followers of Christ, if we can’t do this — if we won’t do this — who will?

In turn, that verse and that moment reframed my hearing of the Hebrews 13 and Luke 14 readings in this week’s lectionary. The passage from Hebrews (the last of four in the lectionary cycle) reminds us, among other things, to show love to strangers, saying that in doing so, we may be welcoming angels without knowing it (13:2). Let that notion sink in for a moment. Luke takes this even further, urging us to invite those who cannot repay us—the poor, the forgotten, the excluded (14:13). Both passages suggest that hospitality isn’t just about being polite—it’s about seeing Christ in others, especially those who are vulnerable. It’s about creating space where grace can take root.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that scripture speaks differently each time we read it. Familiar passages can suddenly feel new, offering fresh insight or a deeper challenge. That’s part of the beauty of the Bible—it grows with us. Starting in late September, we’re inviting our members to begin a journey: reading through the Bible in a year. It’s a commitment, yes—but also an opportunity to hear God’s voice in new ways, to be shaped by the stories, wisdom, and promises that have guided generations. I hope you’ll join us. Let’s walk this path together.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Prayer Reflection: “On the Pulse of Morning” (Angelou)

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.
History, despite its wrenching pain
Cannot be unlived, but if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.
Lift up your eyes upon
This day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream…

Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For a new beginning.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.
The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.

Drawn from Angelou’s Inaugural Poem, 20 January 1993.

A Musical Offering: “Jesus Calls Us Over the Tumult”

Cecil Frances Alexander (1818–1895), a beloved Irish hymn writer known for her poetic clarity and theological depth, wrote over 400 hymns, many for children, including All Things Bright and Beautiful and Once in Royal David’s City. This hymn was written for a Sunday service focused on the calling of the first disciples—Simon, Andrew, James, and John—by the Sea of Galilee (Matthew 4:18–22; Mark 1:16–18). Her husband, William Alexander, an Anglican clergyman (later Archbishop of Ireland), requested a hymn for that occasion. The hymn echoes Jesus’ call to leave behind worldly distractions and follow Him wholeheartedly. Lines like “Christian, love me more than these” draw inspiration from John 21:15, where Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me more than these?” It’s a call to discipleship amid the “tumult” of everyday life. If you need a few moments of calm in your day, enjoy this simple and clear piano interpretation!

Lyrics: Jesus Calls Us O’er the Tumult

1. Jesus calls us o’er the tumult
Of our life’s wild, restless sea;
Day by day his sweet voice sounding,
Saying, “Christian, follow me.”

2. Brothers Simon, Andrew heard it
By the Galilean lake,
Turned from home, and toil, and kindred,
Leaving all for His dear sake.

3. Jesus calls us from the worship
Of the vain world’s golden store,
From each idol that would keep us,
Saying, “Christian, love me more.”

4. In our joys and in our sorrows,
Days of toil and hours of ease,
Still he calls, in cares and pleasures,
“Christian, love me more than these.”

5. Jesus calls us—By your mercies,
Savior, may we hear your call,
Give our hearts to your obedience,
Serve and love you best of all.

Faithful Conversations: Two Updates

Next Sunday (31 August), ELC will offer one service at Hatfield at 10:15 (no in-town worship that day). This will the final Hatfield experience for this year and starting 7 September, we will resume our regular schedule (9:30 service at ELC). One 14 September, we will resume our in-person discussions of the lectionary after worship in the church library (10:45-11:30). ALL ARE WELCOME!

📖 LET’S READ THROUGH THE ENTIRE BIBLE IN ONE YEAR!
We met last week and have laid out the plans for our Bible 365 Challenge—a yearlong journey through Scripture for individuals, families, and groups. As Lutherans, we know God’s Word shapes our lives and deepens our faith. Luther once said, “The Bible is alive… it lays hold of me.” Whether you choose the print path or go digital, we’ll grow together—with daily readings, mutual support, and spiritual connection. More details are coming soon!

Faithful Conversations #130

Introduction to Readers

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” (Santayana)

The debates over our national history have been on my mind this week. They go beyond academic and are existential in some ways. History shapes our identity, both personal and collective. At the center of this fight over our past is the challenge of memory: what we remember, what we forget, and whose stories we tell. Each person sees the past through their own lens, shaped by background and experience. That’s why history is often contested, and why historians work hard to find and share the truth. But behind all these disagreements is that deeper question: Who are we as a people?*

First generation Christians grappled with this question as well. This week’s passage from Hebrews (12:18–29) brought to mind Santayana’s famous warning about failing to remember.** The author of Hebrews (Paul? Apollos?) offers a compelling example of how sacred history can be used to interpret the present and warn against repeating the mistakes of the past. The writer draws a vivid contrast between two mountains—Mount Sinai and Mount Zion. Sinai, with its fire, darkness, and trembling, recalls the fearsome encounter between God and the Israelites—a moment etched in communal memory as both revelation and warning. Zion, by contrast, represents a new reality: the city of the living God, a place of welcome, celebration, and covenant fulfilled. This historical contrast is not incidental—it’s purposeful. It invites the early Christian community, and us as readers today, to reflect on where we stand. Are we still living in the shadow of Sinai, bound by fear and distance? Or have we embraced the promise of Zion, stepping into a relationship marked by grace and proximity? I’ll explore this further in this week’s reflection, including a connection to the Gospel reading.

Thanks for your visit here again this week and I pray for all of us regarding the exploration of God’s Word. We are nearing the half-way point of the 168 days of the Season of Pentecost. Bernard, Abbott of Clairvaux (d. 20 August 1153), is commemorated on our church calendar this week. Bernard (1090–1153) was a key leader in medieval Christianity known for his deep faith and powerful influence. He helped grow the Cistercian order, promoting a simpler, more prayerful way of life. His writings encouraged a personal connection with God and shaped Christian mysticism. Bernard also supported the Knights Templar and helped make devotion to the Virgin Mary a central part of Catholic belief. Honored as a saint and Doctor of the Church, his legacy lives on through his teachings on love, humility, and spiritual renewal. The accompanying image is by the French artist, Emile Signol (1804-1892) and is titled, “Saint Bernard Preaching the Second Crusade in Vezelay, 1146.”

* I am about to embark on my 47th year of teaching history, and these “history wars” have been part of my experience dating back to the late 1970s. If you are interested in a further exploration of this debate, this commentary by historian David Blight is a good place to start. Also, I welcome any exchange you might want to have regarding the topic!

**This interpretation I’m offering was inspired by a posting by Timothy L. Adkins-Jones in Working Preacher from 25 August 2019. He is the senior pastor at Bethany Baptist Church in Newark, N.J. Working Preacher is sponsored by Luther Seminary and is a powerful resource!

Common Themes Among the Readings for Pentecost 11

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
A Revision of the Lectio Divina (Augustinian)

Three Steps
Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

Fast Fact: In Washington, D.C., a statue of Martin Luther stands prominently in front of Luther Place Memorial Church at Thomas Circle. Installed in 1884 to mark the 400th anniversary of Luther’s birth, the statue is a replica of Ernst Friedrich August Rietschel’s original work from the 1868 Luther Monument in Worms, Germany.

Reflection: “Encountering God“

Where do we encounter God in our lives? That question surfaced recently in a conversation with Pastor Jen. The truth is, God can show up anywhere—while talking with a friend, sitting quietly in nature, or listening to music that stirs something deep inside. These moments often arrive unannounced, but they carry weight. They shift our perspective. They remind us that the sacred is not confined to sanctuaries or rituals—it’s woven into the fabric of daily life. C.S. Lewis captured this beautifully in his essay Is Theology Poetry, where he wrote, “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” Faith, in this sense, is not just a lens—it’s illumination. It doesn’t merely help us see God; it helps us see the world more clearly. Christianity, for those who walk that path, shines light on every part of life, revealing both its beauty and its brokenness.

This week’s lectionary readings from Hebrews and Luke offer vivid examples of what happens when people encounter God. These stories don’t play it safe—they disrupt old boundaries and invite us into moments of reverent awe. In Luke, Jesus heals a woman on the Sabbath, challenging rigid religious norms and revealing how God’s kingdom breaks into ordinary life with liberating power. In Hebrews, the writer contrasts the trembling fear of Sinai with the joy of Mount Zion—a place filled with healing, justice, and divine presence. Both passages confront systems that resist change—whether it’s synagogue leaders or worshippers clinging to fear. They call us to embrace a deeper, more gracious reality. True worship doesn’t come from legalism or anxiety. It flows from bold, compassionate acts that reflect God’s kingdom here and now.

God moments often arrive often when we least expect them. We carry a spark of the divine within us, so the potential is always near. That’s why it’s essential to stay grounded in two practices: worship with other Christians and daily engagement with God’s Word. These habits don’t just sustain us—they prepare us. They keep us attuned to the Spirit’s movement, even in the mundane. One of my coaching mentors used to say, “You need to put yourself in a position to BE in position.” It took me a while to grasp what he meant. He was urging us to prepare—to do the work—so that when the moment came, we’d be ready. As Lutherans, we know we don’t earn salvation. God has already given it to us. That’s our great gift. But we still have a role to play in this journey. We live it out. We share the story. We stay open to the unexpected. In the days ahead, watch for those quiet, surprising moments when God shows up. And when they do, let them shape you. We’re part of a story that’s still unfolding. Let’s live it with courage, grace, and readiness.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Prayer Reflection: People Who Show the Way (Nouwen)

“God’s people ground me in the reality and wholeness of Christ and his church, holding me firm and safe in God’s loving embrace. God speaks regularly to us through people who talk to us about the things of God. Certain people become living signs that point us to God. Whether in life or in memory, the people God puts in our lives can help guide us and show us the way.” (Nouwen)

Source: Henri Nouwen Society

Inspired prayer: O God, in the voices and lives of those you place before us, we encounter your presence and are drawn into the mystery of Christ and his church. Through their witness, may we be guided ever deeper into your love, finding in them a sacred path to you. Amen.

A Musical Offering: “Here I Am Lord”

“Here I Am, Lord” is a beloved Christian hymn written by Dan Schutte in 1981, originally composed for the ordination Mass of a deacon while Schutte was studying theology at the Jesuit School of Theology in Berkeley. The lyrics draw deeply from Isaiah 6:8 (“Whom shall I send?”) and 1 Samuel 3 (“Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening”), blending divine calling with human response. The song also fits well with this week’s Isaiah reading (Isaiah 58: 9b-14). Uniquely, the hymn alternates between God’s voice in the verses and the worshipper’s reply in the refrain, creating a dynamic dialogue of vocation and surrender. Though rooted in Catholic renewal music following the Second Vatican Council, it quickly gained popularity across denominations and is now found in numerous Protestant hymnals. I first heard it while visiting a Methodist church and was captivated by it. In the ELW (ELCA), it is hymn number 574. The version offered here is a gorgeous jazz interpretation. Enjoy!

Source: Copilot Website

Here I Am, Lord (Lyrics)

I, the Lord of sea and sky
I have heard my people cry
All who dwell in dark and sin
My hand will save
I, who made the stars of night
I will make their darkness bright
Who will bear my light to them?
Whom shall I send?
Here I am, Lord
Is it I, Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night
I will go Lord, if You lead me
I will hold Your people in my heart
I, the Lord of snow and rain
I have borne my people’s pain
I have wept for love of them
They turn away
I will break there hearts of stone
Give them hearts for love alone
I will speak my word to them
Whom shall I send?
(Refrain)
I, the Lord of wind and flame
I will tend the poor and lame
I will set a feast for them
My hand will save
Finest bread I will provide
‘Til their hearts be satisfied
I will give my life to them
Whom shall I send?
(Refrain)

Chuck Marohnic (b. 1940) is a renowned jazz pianist and educator whose career has spanned collaborations with legends like Chet Baker and Joe Henderson, as well as decades of teaching at Arizona State University. After retiring from academia, he turned his focus toward integrating jazz with spiritual practice, serving as a music minister in various Christian denominations. He co-founded Sanctuary Jazz, blending sacred themes with improvisational depth.

Faithful Conversations: Two Updates

Our regular gatherings for discussing the weekly lectionary are on a pause. Summer worship at ELC is at 8:30 in town and 10:15 at Hatfield by the lake. The 8:30 service will be streamed. Please stay in touch! We will resume in-person gatherings on 14 September at ELC following worship in the library (10:45-11:30).

📖 Ready to read the Bible in a year?
Starting this September, join our Bible 365 Challenge—a yearlong journey through Scripture for individuals, families, and groups. As Lutherans, we know God’s Word shapes our lives and deepens our faith. Luther once said, “The Bible is alive… it lays hold of me.” Whether you choose the print path or go digital, we’ll grow together—with daily readings, mutual support, and spiritual connection. Details are coming soon. Let’s dive in, walk together, and let the Word come alive in us!

Faithful Conversations #128

Introduction to Readers

“Things are in the saddle and ride mankind.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

Emerson’s line from his 1846 Ode to William H. Channing, voicing his unease with the coming war with Mexico, has been on my mind over the past few days. It was eighty years ago this week, that the United States dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima (August 6) and Nagasaki (August 9), bringing World War II to a close. The bombs, ironically born of a desperate race among scientists fleeing Nazi tyranny, marked a split screen in human history: the unleashing of the most devastating weapon ever conceived, and the liberation of millions from the grip of totalitarianism. As Christians living in a dangerous world, we are called to wrestle with such paradoxes. We live between the towers of Babel and the cross of Christ—between the pride of human power and the humility of divine love. The events of August 1945 remind us that history is not merely a sequence of dates and decisions, but a moral terrain where faith must find its footing. In a world where “things” of our own making often seem to ride us, how do we remain grounded in the gospel? How do we discern the difference between necessary action and moral compromise? These questions challenge me every day.

As the world turns, important things happened this week impacting our denomination. Among many actions taken by the Churchwide Assembly, Reverand Yehiel Curry (b. 1972) was elected as the fifth presiding bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA)—the first Black leader to serve in this role. He received 562 of the 799 votes cast on the fifth ballot, marking a significant moment in the church’s history.** Like Martin Luther, Curry’s spiritual journey began in the Roman Catholic tradition. Raised on the South Side of Chicago, he attended Lewis University, a Catholic institution, and earned his B.A. in 1995. His path shifted in the 1990s when he accepted an invitation to worship at St. Stephen’s Lutheran Church. That experience opened the door to Lutheran theology and community life, eventually leading him to join the ELCA. Before entering ministry, Curry worked as a public-school teacher and social worker—roles that shaped his deep commitment to urban communities. He was ordained in 2010, served as pastor of Shekinah Chapel, and later became bishop of the Metropolitan Chicago Synod. Curry brings a strong voice for multicultural engagement and urban ministry to his new role. Here’s a good article from Living Lutheran, if you want more background. Bishop Curry is the fifth since the ELCA was established in 1987 and his term will begin in October. Others who held the position: Herbert Chilstrom (1987-1995), H. George Anderson (1995-2001), Mark S. Hanson (2001-2013), and Elizabeth A. Eaton (2013-2025).

**Note: The presiding bishop is chosen through a prayerful process called the ecclesiastical ballot. Any eligible minister can be nominated anonymously by voting members on the first ballot, which serves as both nomination and potential election. If no one receives the required majority, the top candidates move forward through successive ballots until one is elected. This method emphasizes discernment, transparency, and communal decision-making.

We have reached the 9th of 23 Sundays in Ordinary Time. The second lessons for the remaining August Sundays feature passages from the last three chapters of Hebrews, and my plan is to feature those in the next four blog postings. We should note at the outset that in his German Bible, Luther grouped Hebrews with James, Jude, and Revelation at the end of the New Testament, signaling his reservations about the book. He considered these books “disputed” and less central to the gospel message than others like Romans or Galatians (if you want more information regarding his position, here is a good link). Anyway, let’s take on these readings and learn more about this book!

Thanks for returning to this space this week! I deeply appreciate your continued interest in the Lectionary! Saint Dominic de Guzmán, founder of The Order of Preachers (Dominican), who died on 8 August in 1221, is commemorated within the ELCA this week. I have included a painting of him by the Flemish artist Gaspar de Crayer (c. 1655).

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!

** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

Common Themes Among the Readings

Genesis 15: 1-6

15 After these things the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision, “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.” ² But Abram said, “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” ³ And Abram said, “You have given me no offspring, so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.” ⁴ But the word of the Lord came to him, “This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.” ⁵ He brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your descendants be.” ⁶ And he believed the Lord, and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.

Check out this background video on the book of Hebrews!

Source: The Bible Project

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
GIVE IT A TRY!

A Revision of the Lectio Divina, a method he learned in his Augustinian training

Three Steps

Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

Hebrews 11: 1-3, 8-16
11 Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. ² Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. ³ By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible.
⁸ By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance, and he set out, not knowing where he was going. ⁹ By faith he stayed for a time in the land he had been promised, as in a foreign land, living in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. ¹⁰ For he looked forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God. ¹¹ By faith, with Sarah’s involvement, he received power of procreation, even though he was too old, because he considered him faithful who had promised. ¹² Therefore from one person, and this one as good as dead, descendants were born, “as many as the stars of heaven and as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore.” ¹³ All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, ¹⁴ for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. ¹⁵ If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. ¹⁶ But as it is, they desire a better homeland, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them.

Reflection: “Strangers on the Way”

In his excellent introduction to Hebrews in the Lutheran Study Bible (second edition), Erik M. Heen, professor of New Testament at The Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, points out that the book is a “sophisticated document written in elegant Greek around 70 CE” and was penned as an “extended sermon” for a “community of second-generation Greek-speaking Christians” that had experienced a variety of trials causing many to “drift away” from their faith in the Gospel. Heen asserts the following overarching statement about the message of Hebrews: “Lutherans believe that the word of God, in Hebrew Scriptures and in the New Testament, meets us as both law (judgement) and gospel (promise). Hebrews follows that pattern, often moving back and forth between severe warning and strong encouragement . . .” He also reminds us that tradition claimed that Paul wrote the letter, but that Luther thought the author was Apollos (see Acts 18:24), a companion of Paul and intriguing figure in his own right. The author clearly had a profound understanding of Jewish scriptures and Christian theology. As a sidenote, the book is beautifully written and provides an eloquent summary of the Jewish story and where Christ comes into that story.

Here is a summary of this week’s passage and its connection to the Old Testament reading. Faith begins not with certainty, but with trust—trust in a promise we cannot yet see. Abraham’s journey, as told in Hebrews 11, was marked by obedience to a call that offered no map, only the assurance of God’s presence. He lived as a stranger, yet hoped for a city built by God, a home beyond what this world could offer. In Genesis 15, Abram questioned his future, but when he believed God’s word, it was counted to him as righteousness (sidebar: Luther viewed Genesis 15:6 as a foundational text for the doctrine of justification by faith, not works. Also, note that the Hebrews passage includes Sarah’s involvement in all this!). What lessons should we draw from these texts?

Two things stand out to me. First, faith, as described in Hebrews 11, calls us to live with forward-looking trust rather than backward-facing certainty — note that poetic and familiar phrasing, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (11:1). Abraham models this posture by stepping into the unknown, not because he had a map, but because he trusted the One who called him; his journey reminds us that faith begins when we move, not when we understand. Second, the passage also urges us to embrace our identity as strangers and foreigners on the earth, people who seek a better homeland shaped not by comfort or permanence but by God’s promise. Rather than returning to what was familiar, the faithful pressed on toward a city whose architect and builder is God, showing us that true faith resists settling and instead leans into sacred anticipation. In a world that tempts us to anchor ourselves in possessions, status, or certainty, Hebrews reminds us that faith is not a possession but a pilgrimage—a daily turning toward the promise, a restlessness that refuses to settle for anything less than God’s future. It’s up to us — guided by the Spirit — to share this good news with others!

Soli Deo Gloria!

Prayer Reflection: The Jesus Prayer (Henri Nouwen)

“One simple way to practice solitude is to take a simple prayer like, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.” Sit down, light a candle, look at an icon, be in front of the blessed sacrament or the Bible, depending on your tradition. Simply be there and repeat the prayer for five minutes. Let each word sink from your mind into your heart and then carry all of them through the day.“

A Musical Offering: “People Get Ready” (Curtis Mayfield)

People Get Ready, written by Curtis Mayfield in 1965, is a soul song rooted in gospel tradition and the hope of the Civil Rights Movement. Its image of a train bound for glory calls people to faith and trust, much like the message in Hebrews 11, where believers are praised for following God’s call without knowing where it would lead. Mayfield, shaped by his church upbringing, wrote the song during a time of racial struggle, and it became a source of comfort and strength for many, including Martin Luther King Jr. The song has been covered by many artists. The version I’m sharing by Kenny Rankin captures its spirit beautifully—I hope it resonates with you.

Lyrics: People Get Ready (Mayfield version)

People get ready
There’s a train a-coming
You don’t need no baggage
You just get on board

All you need is faith
To hear the diesels humming
Don’t need no ticket
You just thank the Lord

So people get ready
For the train to Jordan
Picking up passengers
From coast to coast

Faith is the key
Open the doors and board them
There’s hope for all
Among those loved the most

There ain’t no room
For the hopeless sinner
Who would hurt all mankind
Just to save his own, believe me now

Have pity on those
Whose chances grow thinner
For there’s no hiding place
Against the kingdom’s throne

So people get ready
There’s a train a-coming
You don’t need no baggage
You just get on board

All you need is faith
To hear the diesels humming
Don’t need no ticket
You just thank the Lord

Kenny Rankin (1940-2009) was a genre-blending singer-songwriter whose crystalline voice and jazz-inflected guitar work earned him acclaim across folk, pop, and jazz circles. Born in New York City in 1940, he gained early recognition with his song “Peaceful” and frequent appearances on The Tonight Show, where Johnny Carson championed his talent. His interpretations of standards and Beatles songs, especially “Blackbird,” showcased his emotional depth and technical finesse. Rankin passed away in 2009, leaving behind a legacy of soulful artistry and musical elegance.

“Provide background on Kenny Rankin.” Copilot, 2 August 2025, Copilot website.

Faithful Conversations: Looking Ahead

Our regular gatherings for discussing the weekly lectionary are on a pause. Summer worship at ELC is at 8:30 in town and 10:15 at Hatfield by the lake. The 8:30 service will be streamed. Please stay in touch! Note: We will resume our “after-worship” dialogues on 14 September.

📖 Ready to read the Bible in a year?
Starting this September, join our Bible 365 Challenge—a yearlong journey through Scripture for individuals, families, and groups. As Lutherans, we know God’s Word shapes our lives and deepens our faith. Luther once said, “The Bible is alive… it lays hold of me.” Whether you choose the print path or go digital, we’ll grow together—with daily readings, mutual support, and spiritual connection. Details are coming soon. Let’s dive in, walk together, and let the Word come alive in us!

Faithful Conversations #121

Introduction to Readers

“The church meets to imagine what our lives can be like if the gospel were true.” ~ Walter Brueggemann

God calls us to imagine a better future. In June 2025, that call feels especially urgent. Let me explain. The death of Walter Brueggemann two weeks ago stirred me to return to his writings, especially those that speak of imagination as a tool of faith. Brueggemann challenged the Church to resist the forces that numb and divide us, and to dream boldly in the Spirit of the prophets. And just as I began writing this week’s blog posting, I learned of the heartbreak in Brooklyn Park, Minnesota (Saturday 14 June). With family members who live there, the sorrow feels close to home. I hold this grief in tandem with Brueggemann’s vision, asking what it means to live as if the gospel is true. May we dare to imagine more—and may God carry those who have suffered an unspeakable tragedy. I will revisit imagination-inspired faith in my reflections on this week’s passage from Galatians.

Thanks for taking some time in the space again this week! We are in Ordinary Time, the longest season in the Church calendar, but don’t let the name fool you—it’s anything but boring. The word “ordinary” comes from ordinal, meaning “counted,” because the Sundays are numbered (like the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time). It comes in two parts: the first begins after Epiphany and ends before Lent, and the second starts after Pentecost and runs until Advent. Unlike the dramatic seasons of Christmas or Easter, Ordinary Time focuses on the day-to-day life and teachings of Jesus, inviting us to grow in faith, discipleship, and spiritual maturity. Think of it as the Church’s “green season”—a time for steady growth, reflection, and living out the gospel in ordinary moments. Along with this week’s reflections, I’m offering a prayer reflection and musical selection that will hopefully prompt peace in the midst of the turmoil of our times.

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. And, by the way, I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!

Common Themes Among the Readings

Background video on Galatians from the Bible Project — check it out!

Galatians 3: 23-29
 ²³ Now before faith came, we were imprisoned and guarded under the law until faith would be revealed. ²⁴ Therefore the law was our disciplinarian until Christ came, so that we might be reckoned as righteous by faith. ²⁵ But now that faith has come, we are no longer subject to a disciplinarian, ²⁶ for in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. ²⁷ As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. ²⁸ There is no longer Jew or Greek; there is no longer slave or free; there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. ²⁹ And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise.

Note on Sourcing: I utilize Bible Gateway for the scripture passages cited each week.

TRY LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING

A Revision of the Lectio Divina, a method he learned in his Augustinian training (Three Steps)

Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

Reflections: “Faith and Imagination”

Like so much of scripture, context is key to understanding what we are reading. Paul likely wrote Galatians between 47 and 50 CE, during or just after his first missionary journey. It was a moment of intense debate over the inclusion of Gentiles in the Christian movement. Christianity, recall, began as a Jewish messianic movement, but as it spread beyond Israel, conflicts arose over whether non-Jewish believers needed to follow Jewish customs (like circumcision and dietary laws). This controversy came to a head in Acts 15, where church leaders debated whether Gentiles should be required to observe the Torah’s laws (found in the first five books of the Old Testament). Some Jewish Christians insisted that Gentiles must follow these practices to be fully part of God’s covenant family, while Paul argued that faith in Christ alone was sufficient. His letter to the Galatians was written in response to Judaizers—Jewish Christians who were pressuring Gentile believers to adopt Jewish customs. You can feel his frustration throughout the book!

Galatians 3:23–29 brings us to the heart of the Christian story: faith has arrived, and the law no longer defines us. Once, the law guided and instructed, but now baptism clothes us in Christ, transforming our identities! Paul declares, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male and female.” The divisions that once separated people no longer hold power—a radical claim in his time and just as revolutionary today. If we take this seriously, we must see every person as equally beloved, fully included, and truly part of the body of Christ.

And that brings me back to Walter Brueggemann and his challenge. He urges the Church to ignite imaginations through the Holy Spirit, inspiring people not just to read the gospel but to embody it in their lives — to offer hope in a troubled world. As a counter-cultural people, we must reveal what life looks like when love—not hierarchy—leads the way. Now, more than ever, is the time to live this truth.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Prayer Reflection: Finding Hope and Strength in Turbulent Times

The story of Hercules wrestling Antaeus is a classic myth about strength and strategy. Antaeus, a giant and son of Gaia (Earth) and Poseidon, was invincible as long as he remained in contact with the ground. He challenged all travelers to wrestling matches, always winning and using their skulls to decorate a temple. When Hercules encountered Antaeus, he realized that the giant’s power came from the earth. Instead of continuing to throw him down, Hercules lifted Antaeus into the air, cutting off his connection to the ground. Without his source of strength, Antaeus weakened, and Hercules was able to crush him to death. (“Describe the myth of Hercules wrestling with Antaeus.” Copilot, 13 June 2025, Copilot website).

I ran across this beautiful interpretation of the Hercules/Antaeus myth by Glenn Clark — widely applicable and so fitting for our present circumstances!

“We, who are not children of Earth but children of God, could learn much from the lesson of Antaeus. We too, whenever troubles cast us back upon the bosom of our Father, rise with renewed strength. But just as Antaeus let Hercules, who was smaller in stature than he, lift him away from the source of his power, so circumstances, infinitely small and trivial, may drag us away from God. Troubles, misfortunes, disappointments, and handicaps, if they but throw us back upon God, if they merely give us opportunity of bringing into play our God-directed imagination and our heaven-blessed sense of humor, may become converted into marvelous good fortune. For trouble, if it merely turns us to God and hence renews our strength, ceases to be evil, and becomes good; it becomes the best thing that could possibly come to us, next to God Himself. For our growth in power and happiness depends upon the number of seconds out of each twenty-four hours that we are resting in God.”

Source: The Soul’s Sincere Desire
(Glenn Cark)

A Musical Offering: “You Are the New Day” (John David)

One of the things that has become clear to me in recent times, is that as Christians we are called to be purveyors of hope within our communities. This has been a theme of conversations with Pastor Jen in recent weeks. To do that, of course, we have to maintain our own sense of well-being. This song, though not overtly Christian, expresses the power of hope that is ours in Jesus Christ.

Update on “Faithful Conversations”

Our regular gatherings for discussing the weekly lectionary are on a pause. Summer worship at ELC is at 8:30 in town and 10:15 at Hatfield by the lake. The 8:30 service will be streamed. Please stay in touch!

Recent News From Luther Seminary in St. Paul!

“After engaging in careful consideration and faithful conversation about Luther Seminary’s important mission and future, the seminary’s board of directors voted unanimously to begin the process to shift to a more nimble model and divest from its current physical campus in Saint Paul. Luther Seminary will initiate a process to seek new space in the Twin Cities area that aligns with its needs going forward and helps maintain the seminary’s enduring commitment to ensuring Christian leaders are equipped for the realities of ministry today and into the future.”

Read the full article here!