Preached this morning at Lutheran Church of the Nativity
John 1:19 - 34 Christmas 1 (Narrative Lectionary)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Today we stand between the crib where the baby Jesus lay at Christmas
And the cross toward which we’ll journey between now and Easter.
In this in-between time, we’ll accompany John the Evangelist,
hearing his account of Jesus’ ministry,
written some fifty years after his crucifixion and resurrection.
Today, we hear the testimony of another man, John
who was sent by God as a witness.
The Fourth Gospel doesn’t give us the familiar birth stories of Jesus
that we know from Matthew and Luke and our children’s pageants.
There are no angels, no shepherds, no magi.
Instead of a swaddled infant, lying in a manger,
Or an impetuous boy whose parents find him in the Jerusalem temple,
We meet Jesus, fully human,
Fully man.
Unexpected by a people waiting for the return of the prophet Elijah
and scandalous to a people waiting for a divine Messiah
In Jesus we meet God’s Word made flesh.
God’s Light shining in the darkness.
And now, God’s Passover Lamb
who takes away the sin of the world.
The comfort and joy of Christmas turn into bleak despair as we listen to John’s testimony,
Because just as a witness called by the prosecution testifies against the accused,
John bears witness against us,
Naming the brokenness he sees in the world –
our alienation, our distance, our rebellion against the very God
who created us and wants to live in relationship with us.
The sin of the world is not a catalog of all of our moral shortfalls –
in John’s Gospel – sin is a problem in one’s relationship with God
It is our human condition of standing against God,
like petulant children,
rebelling against God,
refusing to believe we are loved by God.
It is in this bleak space that we meet Jesus
Not as a baby and not even as a shepherd but as a lamb....
What does John mean?
Growing up in the city, all I know about lambs I learned from nursery songs and from James Herriott’s All Creatures Great and Small.
But for Israel, the words “Lamb of God” meant something.
The Passover Lamb was not a sacrificial lamb,
cut and burned on the altar.
Those animals were more often bulls and goats.
The Passover Lamb was Israel’s reminder of God’s deliverance when they came out of slavery in Egypt.
It goes back to Exodus 12 when the Lord instructed Moses and Aaron to have every household slaughter a lamb and smear the blood of the lamb on the doorposts and the lintels
so that when the Lord passed through, they would be spared from destruction.
After Israel was spared, when they reached the Promised Land that the Lord gave them, they kept the Passover as a way of remembering what God had done.
The Passover Lamb was God’s sign to Israel of God’s deliverance from oppression, from bondage.
In the same way, Jesus delivers us out of the bondage of sin,
removing our unbelief and rebellion against God
and calling forth FAITH.
Herriott says, for farmers, the arrival of new lambs and the lambing season means the end of a long, harsh winter;
In the same way, the arrival of God’s Passover Lamb means the end of our bleak winter –
our alienation from God,
the end of our rebellion.
It is God’s overcoming our sin,
God exhibiting God’s eternal love for us
It is Christ’s taking up our sin as his own,
and giving us all that is his.
This is what John the Witness comes tell us –
the Good News of the Gospel –
Not that suddenly, we will live a perfect, blameless, sinless life;
Or that if we always do the right things and always make the right decisions, we can draw nearer to God on our own,
No.
John’s message for us is that even in our brokenness,
even in our imperfection,
even in the dark places where we live and where we hurt,
even in the Cross
God overcomes our sin and creates faith in us,
Forgiving us and drawing us into relationship.
By God’s grace, we are made new every day, restored to new life and forgiven.
Freed to believe
in God’s mercy and in the new beginnings God promises.
Sitting on the cusp of a New Year,
bombarded with messages about resolutions
that would have us lose weight, exercise, eat healthier,
and unplug more often,
John’s testimony challenges us
To find new ways to announce God’s grace, love and forgiveness in our lives.
Maybe it is letting someone step ahead of you in a long line,
Or paying for someone else’s coffee or lunch.
Maybe it is giving your time to help someone else who is hurting or
Listening to someone who is alone.
Maybe it is changing a habit that takes you farther away from God,
or starting one that helps remind you of God’s presence in your life.
Or maybe it is going to someone and offering them a fresh start;
Or sitting with someone and telling them,
“Jesus came to live for you
that you would know how much God loves you.”
Whatever you do, in making God’s love visible in your actions,
like John,
you are pointing away from yourself,
toward what our life-giving, living God has done and is doing
in the lives of the people you love and with whom you live and work.
Thanks be to God.
Let us pray…
God of life and God of faith,
Thank you for your son Jesus who takes away our sin,
Who calls forth faith in each one of us.
Take us into the New Year,
strengthened by your grace and
filled with hope by your promise of new beginnings.
May our words and actions be witnesses to your love and forgiveness.
Amen.
(c) Christina Auch, 2013.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Friday, November 29, 2013
Advent Confidential
As the Church enters a new year, the first four Sundays (which
happen to begin on December 1 this year) mark Advent, a time of waiting and
preparation for the celebration of Jesus’ birth at Christmas. RevGalBlogPals asked about our favorite memories or traditions for today’s FridayFive Advent Confidential.
Growing up, my family (1) had Advent calendars (2), and each day in December began with our opening a cardboard window and trying not to peak ahead to the manger scene hidden under the double doors marked “24” or sometimes "25". Sometimes they had verses but often they were just pictures related to the story of the birth of the infant Jesus. At least one year, on Sunday nights during Advent, my mother played carols at the piano while a fire was lit in the fire place, and my dad read from the King James Bible at our very own wreath lighting (3).
In those days, in the Episcopal tradition, we used the pink and purple candles. The colors of candles, the variety of four-fold meanings of the candles, and the significance of where and when the wreath lighting happens in worship are all nuances that were lost to me before going to seminary. If your curiosity is piqued, you can check out Advent resources on Text this Week, or from Worshiping with Children.
As an adult, my favorite Advent memories are from the soup suppers (4) and worship services on Wednesday evenings. Admittedly, when my children were younger, I figured we had done well just to slow down enough to get to the supper, so we often left before the actual worship began. Last year, I participated in community Advent services that brought together four different congregations, rotating the cooking responsibilities as well as the hosting of the services. As fewer people attend the midweek worship services for Advent, they are becoming harder to find, but these special services provide a much-needed chance to reset and refocus (5), an art often lost by the third day of a busy work week.
For me, this year’s season of waiting is punctuated by the different kinds of waiting we have happening in our house as I await my first call as the pastor of a congregation and my daughters await news of school acceptances for next school year. We are, as the people were at the time of Jesus’ birth, filled with hope and anticipation at what God is doing, and we wish and pray for peace and healing in this season.
Growing up, my family (1) had Advent calendars (2), and each day in December began with our opening a cardboard window and trying not to peak ahead to the manger scene hidden under the double doors marked “24” or sometimes "25". Sometimes they had verses but often they were just pictures related to the story of the birth of the infant Jesus. At least one year, on Sunday nights during Advent, my mother played carols at the piano while a fire was lit in the fire place, and my dad read from the King James Bible at our very own wreath lighting (3).
In those days, in the Episcopal tradition, we used the pink and purple candles. The colors of candles, the variety of four-fold meanings of the candles, and the significance of where and when the wreath lighting happens in worship are all nuances that were lost to me before going to seminary. If your curiosity is piqued, you can check out Advent resources on Text this Week, or from Worshiping with Children.
As an adult, my favorite Advent memories are from the soup suppers (4) and worship services on Wednesday evenings. Admittedly, when my children were younger, I figured we had done well just to slow down enough to get to the supper, so we often left before the actual worship began. Last year, I participated in community Advent services that brought together four different congregations, rotating the cooking responsibilities as well as the hosting of the services. As fewer people attend the midweek worship services for Advent, they are becoming harder to find, but these special services provide a much-needed chance to reset and refocus (5), an art often lost by the third day of a busy work week.
For me, this year’s season of waiting is punctuated by the different kinds of waiting we have happening in our house as I await my first call as the pastor of a congregation and my daughters await news of school acceptances for next school year. We are, as the people were at the time of Jesus’ birth, filled with hope and anticipation at what God is doing, and we wish and pray for peace and healing in this season.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Preacher without a pulpit
This in-between time is interesting because I formed my identity as a pastor, a preacher and public Christian leader during this past year, but right now I do not have a congregation or a pulpit. For now, my family and I are waiting for what will unfold. It's interesting in this interim to think more fully about the idea that the Holy Spirit forms faith through preaching, that preaching brings a person to Christ and knits them into the body of Christ, and then to think about what preaching looks like outside of ordained ministry.
Meanwhile, here are my last two sermons from St. Mark's.
July 21, 2013
9th Sunday after Pentecost (Year C)
Amos 8:1-12
Colossians 1:15-28
Luke 10:38-42
August 25, 2013
14th Sunday after Pentecost (Year C)
Jeremiah 1:4-10
Hebrews 12:18-29
Luke 13:10-17
Thursday, August 15, 2013
"Always Being Made New"
As you know, if you are reading this here, I am a church geek. On Wednesday, August 14, 2013, I joined more than 2,000 others watching a LiveStream of my denomination's Churchwide Assembly - a national gathering of about 952 representatives that happens every 3 years. Thankfully, this year's gathering of the Evangelical Church in America (ELCA) is being held in Pittsburgh which makes it easy for me to indulge in conversations and watch the live feed.
I watched in the morning as four people - our Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson, and three women currently serving as synod bishops - spoke about leading our Church in the next six years, and I watched in the afternoon as a fifth ballot between the two final nominees was held.
For those of you who think this is as interesting as watching grass grow (my frequent analogy for watching golf on television, or live for that matter) what made it wonderful was the color commentary provided by other church geeks, like me. As the people in the room listened and made their decisions about which candidate would receive their vote, I listened on Twitter (#ELCAcwa) and chat to the overwhelming respect and affirmation of our current leader's gifts and ministry. Presiding Bishop Hanson has led the ELCA for twelve years with grace and compassion even as congregations are getting smaller, even as seminaries are struggling, even as controversy erupted over who we ordain as leaders for our congregations.
And in the midst of recognizing the blessing that Bishop Hanson has been to the office of Presiding Bishop, and at the same time listening to the leading of the Holy Spirit for us in the world today, our church elected a new leader - and for the first time, a woman. It was a day to celebrate the Good in the Church even as we look for ways to move forward.
As a seminary student anticipating assignment and my first call in the ELCA, I am grateful for the day and the memory. I am grateful for the women in ministry who have preceded me. I am grateful for the faithfulness of all the leaders - women and men - who have challenged us to "always be made new" and who have shown courage in walking with us into new places and new ways of being church.
If you are a church geek, too, here is the video of Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson introducing Presiding Bishop-Elect Elizabeth Eaton. (This is a formal moderated press conference. Bishop Hanson's remarks begin at about 2:34 mark and Bishop Eaton begins about 5:27)
I watched in the morning as four people - our Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson, and three women currently serving as synod bishops - spoke about leading our Church in the next six years, and I watched in the afternoon as a fifth ballot between the two final nominees was held.
For those of you who think this is as interesting as watching grass grow (my frequent analogy for watching golf on television, or live for that matter) what made it wonderful was the color commentary provided by other church geeks, like me. As the people in the room listened and made their decisions about which candidate would receive their vote, I listened on Twitter (#ELCAcwa) and chat to the overwhelming respect and affirmation of our current leader's gifts and ministry. Presiding Bishop Hanson has led the ELCA for twelve years with grace and compassion even as congregations are getting smaller, even as seminaries are struggling, even as controversy erupted over who we ordain as leaders for our congregations.
And in the midst of recognizing the blessing that Bishop Hanson has been to the office of Presiding Bishop, and at the same time listening to the leading of the Holy Spirit for us in the world today, our church elected a new leader - and for the first time, a woman. It was a day to celebrate the Good in the Church even as we look for ways to move forward.
As a seminary student anticipating assignment and my first call in the ELCA, I am grateful for the day and the memory. I am grateful for the women in ministry who have preceded me. I am grateful for the faithfulness of all the leaders - women and men - who have challenged us to "always be made new" and who have shown courage in walking with us into new places and new ways of being church.
If you are a church geek, too, here is the video of Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson introducing Presiding Bishop-Elect Elizabeth Eaton. (This is a formal moderated press conference. Bishop Hanson's remarks begin at about 2:34 mark and Bishop Eaton begins about 5:27)
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Summertime in the Preacher's Corner
For my family and me, summertime means barefeet, swimming in the river, campfires and cooking on the grill. For one of my daughters, it isn't summer without the beach, and for another it wouldn't be the same unless she was at Lutheridge for at least one week. Summer means something different for everyone. As we live into the season and all the meanings it carries for people, as a preacher, one of the questions I'm trying to figure out in the midst or Mother's and Father's Day, Memorial Day and the 4th of July, is where, if at all, should my preaching connect the Gospel to these celebrations and traditions?
Here are my three most recent sermons. The first was preached on Trinity Sunday, which fell this year on the last weekend in May, which for most Americans anyway, is Memorial Day Weekend, the official unofficial start of summer when the public swimming pools open, grills are fired up and the shoes come off. The second sermon was on June 23, in the midst of the long green season both in the church and in a world where everything is growing and green, and the third was on June 30, the Sunday before America's Independence Day celebration.
I didn't try to make connections to the season's celebrations in this year's sermons and I haven't resolved my questions about the importance of those connections. Part of me wants to stubbornly stick to the text and not be concerned about them, but I also want my hearers to connect the Gospel to their own lives - to know that they are loved by God and God cares about what happens in their lives - and going forward, I think that may mean making room for the celebrations. Please let me know what you think.
May 26, 2013
Trinity Sunday (Year C)
Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31
Psalm 8
Romans 5:1-5
John 16:12-15
Listen Now
June 23, 2013
5th Sunday after Pentecost (Year C)
Isaiah 65:1–9
Psalm 22:19–28 (22)
Galatians 3:23–29
Luke 8:26–39
Listen Now
June 30, 2013
6th Sunday after Pentecost (Year C)
1 Kings 19:15–16, 19–21
Psalm 16 (8)
Galatians 5:1, 13–25
Luke 9:51–62
Listen Now
Here are my three most recent sermons. The first was preached on Trinity Sunday, which fell this year on the last weekend in May, which for most Americans anyway, is Memorial Day Weekend, the official unofficial start of summer when the public swimming pools open, grills are fired up and the shoes come off. The second sermon was on June 23, in the midst of the long green season both in the church and in a world where everything is growing and green, and the third was on June 30, the Sunday before America's Independence Day celebration.
I didn't try to make connections to the season's celebrations in this year's sermons and I haven't resolved my questions about the importance of those connections. Part of me wants to stubbornly stick to the text and not be concerned about them, but I also want my hearers to connect the Gospel to their own lives - to know that they are loved by God and God cares about what happens in their lives - and going forward, I think that may mean making room for the celebrations. Please let me know what you think.
May 26, 2013
Trinity Sunday (Year C)
Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31
Psalm 8
Romans 5:1-5
John 16:12-15
Listen Now
June 23, 2013
5th Sunday after Pentecost (Year C)
Isaiah 65:1–9
Psalm 22:19–28 (22)
Galatians 3:23–29
Luke 8:26–39
Listen Now
June 30, 2013
6th Sunday after Pentecost (Year C)
1 Kings 19:15–16, 19–21
Psalm 16 (8)
Galatians 5:1, 13–25
Luke 9:51–62
Listen Now
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Honest Speech - Reading the Psalms
This summer I am studying the Psalms. Reading Walter Brueggemann, Glenn Pemberton and Eugene Peterson, I quickly realized how unfamiliar the text was to me. I have read bits and pieces of the Psalms and knew they are understood as the songbook of Israel; I knew they are wisdom literature and I knew they were poetic in the original Hebrew. But like English poetry, their cadence and content was challenging for me.
So, I decided I wanted to try to simply read through the Psalms, just to gain some familiarity with the language, like listening to Spanish radio helps me recognize forgotten vocabulary. I hoped I would notice repeated words and phrases, and begin to understand this new language. If I could get past the decoding stage of reading, I could begin to understand what the writers were saying.
Not surprisingly, Google offers lots of suggestions for reading the Psalms. There are 150 Psalms so reading 5 each day will take a reader through the Psalter in 30 days.One way to do that is to read the psalm for that date, e.g. today is June 22, so begin with Psalm 22, and then read every thirtieth Psalm, e.g. Psalm 52, 82, 112, 142. Repeat the math the next day.
But the Psalms are so varied that a numerical reading felt too random to me, so I chose a reading plan organized around themes.
Reaching the end of the plan, I realized that, there is a nuance between reading the Psalms in 30 days and reading the Psalms for 30 days. I had read just under 2/3 of the Psalter. Of the 61 psalms the themed reading plan did not include, more than half (34) were lament psalms. It struck me then how reluctant we are to use honest speech with God.
While Brueggemann uses the categories of orientation, disorientation and new orientation to identify different Psalms, Pemberton categorizes Psalms into praise, thanksgiving, lament and "other", identifying a full 60 lament Psalms in the Psalter. If we took away a third of our language, I don't think we'd be able to communicate well. Unless we soak ourselves in the Scriptures that are hard - the laments and even the violent and bloodthirsty passages, we risk thinking God only inhabits one part of our lives, and when we are hurting the most, we won't have the language to speak to God, and when we are in the darkest places and passages of our lives, we won't have the imagination to believe God is there with us.
I have built a reading plan that takes a reader through the Psalter, more or less using the following categories.Some Psalms fit more than one category but for my purposes, they are included only once in the readings. I hope you'll spend some time with the Psalms and tell me whether this is helpful, or share how you approach the Psalter.
So, I decided I wanted to try to simply read through the Psalms, just to gain some familiarity with the language, like listening to Spanish radio helps me recognize forgotten vocabulary. I hoped I would notice repeated words and phrases, and begin to understand this new language. If I could get past the decoding stage of reading, I could begin to understand what the writers were saying.
Not surprisingly, Google offers lots of suggestions for reading the Psalms. There are 150 Psalms so reading 5 each day will take a reader through the Psalter in 30 days.One way to do that is to read the psalm for that date, e.g. today is June 22, so begin with Psalm 22, and then read every thirtieth Psalm, e.g. Psalm 52, 82, 112, 142. Repeat the math the next day.
But the Psalms are so varied that a numerical reading felt too random to me, so I chose a reading plan organized around themes.
Reaching the end of the plan, I realized that, there is a nuance between reading the Psalms in 30 days and reading the Psalms for 30 days. I had read just under 2/3 of the Psalter. Of the 61 psalms the themed reading plan did not include, more than half (34) were lament psalms. It struck me then how reluctant we are to use honest speech with God.
While Brueggemann uses the categories of orientation, disorientation and new orientation to identify different Psalms, Pemberton categorizes Psalms into praise, thanksgiving, lament and "other", identifying a full 60 lament Psalms in the Psalter. If we took away a third of our language, I don't think we'd be able to communicate well. Unless we soak ourselves in the Scriptures that are hard - the laments and even the violent and bloodthirsty passages, we risk thinking God only inhabits one part of our lives, and when we are hurting the most, we won't have the language to speak to God, and when we are in the darkest places and passages of our lives, we won't have the imagination to believe God is there with us.
I have built a reading plan that takes a reader through the Psalter, more or less using the following categories.Some Psalms fit more than one category but for my purposes, they are included only once in the readings. I hope you'll spend some time with the Psalms and tell me whether this is helpful, or share how you approach the Psalter.
| Individual Prayers for Help | Individual Songs of Thanksgiving | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Communal Prayers for Help | Communal Songs of Thanksgiving | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Hymns of Praise | Royal Psalms | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Creation Psalms | Trust Psalms | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Enthronement Psalms | Acrostic Psalms | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Songs of Zion | Festival Psalms | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Liturgies | Historical Psalms | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Instructional
Psalms
|
Friday, May 17, 2013
The Road
RevGalBlogPals are pondering life's journey and the rhythm of our lives this week.
One of my earliest memories is of my dad in a Triumph convertible steering with his knees as we wound our way down some twisty road. I don't know if it was in Salinas, California or Nashville, Tennessee or someplace else. We rode in the car a lot, particularly during moves between one west coast naval station and another east coast base. I especially remember not quite being big enough to see out the windows.
For the last five years, I have been on a road through seminary, hitting the occasional pothole or the hazard of an unmarked turn or a sudden obstacle, but also enjoying the long straightaways. I know without looking at any odometer or official record that I have covered a lot of miles.
It would be easy to take this road and stick to the expressway, but like small towns forgotten in the shadow of the interstate or beltway, there are places I'd have hated to bypass. The most direct route between two points may be a straight line, but there's a whole lot of world to experience in the margins and hidden in backstreets and alleys.
It would be easy to name some of the people with whom I've traveled, but when I stop and think about the number of people who have traveled with me for not only a a period of months or years but even a morning or an afternoon, that list probably cannot be written because I'd never be able to name every person who has prayed for me and my ministry, for my family, or for the congregations where I have served or the seminary and professors who have guided my education.
What's even more challenging is to imagine, like a route yet planned or taken, where this road leads. I don't believe for a minute that it ends with my degree completion in December. That's just one wayside on an even longer road.
The prayer I keep with me in this unknowing is from the Lutheran Book of Worship:
Lord God,
you have called your servants
to ventures of which we cannot see the ending,
by paths as yet untrodden,
through perils unknown.
Give us faith to go out with good courage,
not knowing where we go,
but only that your hand is leading us
and your love supporting us;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
One of my earliest memories is of my dad in a Triumph convertible steering with his knees as we wound our way down some twisty road. I don't know if it was in Salinas, California or Nashville, Tennessee or someplace else. We rode in the car a lot, particularly during moves between one west coast naval station and another east coast base. I especially remember not quite being big enough to see out the windows.
For the last five years, I have been on a road through seminary, hitting the occasional pothole or the hazard of an unmarked turn or a sudden obstacle, but also enjoying the long straightaways. I know without looking at any odometer or official record that I have covered a lot of miles.
It would be easy to take this road and stick to the expressway, but like small towns forgotten in the shadow of the interstate or beltway, there are places I'd have hated to bypass. The most direct route between two points may be a straight line, but there's a whole lot of world to experience in the margins and hidden in backstreets and alleys.
It would be easy to name some of the people with whom I've traveled, but when I stop and think about the number of people who have traveled with me for not only a a period of months or years but even a morning or an afternoon, that list probably cannot be written because I'd never be able to name every person who has prayed for me and my ministry, for my family, or for the congregations where I have served or the seminary and professors who have guided my education.
What's even more challenging is to imagine, like a route yet planned or taken, where this road leads. I don't believe for a minute that it ends with my degree completion in December. That's just one wayside on an even longer road.
The prayer I keep with me in this unknowing is from the Lutheran Book of Worship:
Lord God,
you have called your servants
to ventures of which we cannot see the ending,
by paths as yet untrodden,
through perils unknown.
Give us faith to go out with good courage,
not knowing where we go,
but only that your hand is leading us
and your love supporting us;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
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