Last week, I woke up with the urge to play Into the Unknown by Panic! at the Disco. You may know of the song as part of the Frozen 2 soundtrack, and if you do not know the song, feel free to search it out and listen! In the moment, I did not think of why I felt the need to listen to the song. But as I jammed out to the song on repeat, I realized that I will soon be jumping into the unknown in a variety of ways.
As a seminary intern, my time at Lord of Life is limited, so I have been tasked with looking ahead. My fiance and I went to Cleveland not only for summer vacation, but to try on the city and see if it would be a great fit for our next move, and for us to lay down some roots. I can now say that I love the Great Lakes, and that I can see us in the Cleve. But will I end up in Cleveland? Maybe. Though I loved my stay, my first call could be anywhere, which is a little terrifying. Upon returning to work, I had to renew my apartment lease with a firm end date, which meant I had to figure out a precise end date for my internship with Lord of Life. Cleveland or someplace else is arriving quickly.
Similarly, I’m getting married in a year. I heard from somewhere, “marriage isn’t the end of a love story, but is the beginning of a new story.” Though exciting and full of blessings, I’d add that marriage is the beginning of a mysterious journey! I find joy in the knowledge that my life will be deeply intertwined with my fiance’s, as scripture says “two become one.” But I’m also aware that we don’t say “with you for better or worse” because we know how the journey will play out. We have ideas, but we say those words in the knowledge that marriage can take us to some unexpected places.
I suppose it’s no wonder how I can easily jam out to Into the Unknown. I’ll be diving into the unknown a lot. Into the unknown is life. I can see myself jumping into the unknown in the near future, but life spontaneously pulls us into the unknown all of the time, in the most exciting, joyful, terrifying, and heart-wrenching ways.
Being cognizant of the unknown as part of life’s reality pushes us to prepare for the unexpected. It also calls us to be cautious. In excess, if you’re a fan of certainty and predictability, it can be paralyzing as you may prolong decision-making in order to stay where you are. But if you can sit with the full reality of the unknown in your brain, think of all the joys and sorrows it may bring, Christ’s lesson in Matthew 6 becomes deeply relevant.
“Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin.” Matthew 6:27-28. I don’t think Jesus speaks of the lilies to say God will always provide and you will have zero scarcity- a common ethos behind the vague “God will provide.” Christ knows of scarcity, pain, and suffering in the world. Rather, Christ is aware that there is much in life that we cannot foresee. Jesus knows that “unknown” and “life” are synonymous. We cannot run or hide from the unknown, thus, we must accept it as a part of life.
Jesus’s lesson ends with, “So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”-Matthew 6:34. Will my career path take me back to my old Kentucky home, or drop me into a cool city like Cleveland? I hope so, but I don’t know. Technically, it could take me to Alaska. Perhaps I’ll get lucky and end up in the US Virgin Islands. Will Justin and I have the most blissful marriage with no internal or external struggles to ever weigh us down? Doubtful. Will one of us die unexpectedly and the other be left as a young widower? Also doubtful (thank God), but technically not impossible. All possibilities play out in my head.
So I accept the unknown, unforeseeable, and unpredictable as a reality of life. Without acceptance, life would be stagnant at best, as I would be reluctant to move forward in life. So I take a deep breath and step forward. Or as Dory says in Finding Nemo, “just keep swimming.” The lilies do not stop growing in anticipation that soil erosion or drought will wipe them out. They simply grow as the blessings of God shine the sun’s light on them, and the clouds provide nourishing rain for them. Life is day by day. So is ours as we cannot see beyond tall hills and windy curves. I’d also add that though life is unpredictable if we take a step back and look at the vast expanse of God’s creation, it ultimately lives into resurrection.
Taking a deep breath, stepping into the unknown, keeping on swimming,
Pastor Alec Brock, Seminary Intern (he, him, his)
If you haven’t been in the Lord of Life sanctuary recently, get here! Over the last year, a whole host of skilled professionals have used their expertise to transform our worship space one step at a time. Pipefitters, concrete professionals, electricians, drywall installers, carpenters, and painters each harnessed their craft as part of our Share the Light sanctuary renewal. (By the way, if you haven’t made your mark on the floor, you better get to it. The carpet is scheduled to be laid the week of August 9! If you can’t come and do it in person, reach out to the church office and we’ll be sure to have someone write your name, Bible verse, or reflection for you.)
When I think about my life of faith, I can’t help but celebrate the countless skilled professionals, faithful volunteers, and clueless bystanders whose lives intersected mine and helped me grow in relationship with God. Not only was my forehead marked with a cross in the waters of baptism at Zion Lutheran in Canton, OH when I was an infant, but the Spirit of God led and pursued me through all kinds of ministry moments and decades of my life.
For me, Scripture was planted in my heart through singing VBS songs on the cold tile floor at Messiah Lutheran in Akron. Conversations about faith expanded beyond Sunday morning worship as I lingered in the woods of Camp Mowana as a child at summer camp. In high school, moments of serving at nursing care centers and food pantries connected the dots of faith and action, as we loved one another through compassionate care.
Campus ministry at Wittenberg University blew my heart and mind wide open when I was encouraged to wrestle with the hard issues of life and faith, trusting that God was ready to meet me in the tussle. Traveling as part of a music ministry team with Lutheran Youth Encounter introduced me to a variety of people with varied Christian beliefs and practices, challenging my thoughts about life, faith, worship, leadership, and community.
Youth ministry at Salem in West St. Paul, MN, seminary classwork at Trinity Lutheran Seminary, hospital chaplain work at OSU, and an internship at Resurrection Lutheran in Portland, OR, followed by pastoring in Davenport, Wichita, and West Chester have been essential steps in my journey. Each person and moment has been a crucial addition to my mosaic of faith formation and I can’t imagine that I would be a pastor without them.
Whether I know your story of faith or not, I’m grateful for all of the ways that you, too, have encountered God throughout your life. I imagine that in addition to worship, there have been moments of learning and serving where you have encountered the promise and presence of God.
We are on the verge of something new and beautiful at Lord of Life. Not only are we filled with expectation for the completion of our sanctuary renewal and a return to in-person ministry activities, but in the coming weeks, we hope to hire a Director of Faith Formation. This new, full-time ministry position will be a catalyst for all of us to be drawn into learning and serving moments. This person will be part of our ministry staff, working closely with the pastors, music director, and office administrator to help propel ministry further in this place and deeper into our hearts and minds. Our Director of Faith Formation will not only clarify the learning ministries that we have, but will also help grow our learning ministries with all ages – from the smallest children to the most senior adults. Faith formation is a lifelong practice.
This new position also add substantial dollars to our mission spending plan. You already know that it takes all of us to make ministry happen in this place. Thank you for your generosity, especially through these strange days of the coronavirus and our physically distanced ministry moments.
If you haven’t been giving financially to our ministry recently, would you please consider it? As we gear up for many of our learning ministries to resume, our expenses will go up. In the coming weeks, we’ll be purchasing curriculum, scheduling retreats, and planning for once-a-year events like Rally Day, God’s Work. Our Hands. Sunday, and so many other moments of togetherness. Keep an eye out for ways to grow your faith.
I’ve missed each of you over the last year and a half as we’ve been apart and it has been so good to see many of you returning to in-person worship. I look forward to seeing the rest of you soon, as we continue to step forward in faith, together.
Living, sharing, and celebrating,
Pastor Lowell
“with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love,” - Ephesians 4:2
It seems inevitable that if you have a lot of projects going on at the same time, some of them aren’t going to go according to plan. The risk for the proverbial “dumpster fire” seems to go up when you are under a time constraint, or if you try to do everything on a budget.
Since moving to Cincinnati and beginning work at Lord of Life, both my home and church life have been a continuous string of projects - bathroom renovations at home led to … the rest of the house renovations at home. And it is already difficult to remember a time when we didn’t have an office for our Seminary Intern, but the truth is, that office was just the first of many building projects that brought us where we are with our Share the Light renovations.
In the last weeks, in addition to some lightning-paced progress on the sanctuary renewal, we had our parking lot re-striped so we can see the parking spaces better, and sent our altar and baptismal font away for refinishing. What could possibly go wrong?
1 - An actual dumpster fire.
As Independence Day celebrations dragged into the second week of July, a garbage truck driver noticed the back of his truck was on fire. As the blaze grew, he pulled into the most convenient lot he could get to, which happened to be Lord of Life, and dumped the burning waste onto our freshly painted parking stalls. The fire had been caused by fireworks that hadn’t been fully extinguished before being discarded.
2 - Quality craftsmanship cannot be rushed.
My niece was baptized on Sunday morning, and I came in the night before to get things set up. We expected the newly finished font to be in the building, but it wasn’t, and I soon learned it wouldn’t be ready until after the baptism was over. We are blessed to be rich with relationships with our sisters and brothers of other denominations, and not only was Mother Phyllis from St. Anne gracious enough to loan us a font for the next morning, but the resulting conversation has already led to some potential future collaborations.
Both of these situations could have been opportunities to panic, or be fearful or angry. But anger never would have solved either of them. It was fortunate that our lot was near enough for the garbage truck to dump into - it might not have been as safe to drop the fire in a more residential area. And as soon as we realized our own font was unavailable, we were gifted with a beautiful alternative because of our ecumenical relationships. I’m sure the continued renovations at my actual home and my church home will result in additional surprises. I pray that we respond to all of them with the same grace and humor.
Gracefully yours,
John Johns, Music Director
It’s easy to be energized when you are getting ready for a vacation or service trip. Days filled with new destinations and experiences can pump you up with excitement. It’s quite a different thing to maintain momentum as you collapse onto an air mattress following an 8 hour day of roofing or hanging siding in 90-degree heat. This week has been both for seventeen of us serving in Leslie County, KY.
Sure we might be sweaty and tired from working in the hot sun all day and wish we could connect with family and friends (there’s no reception here), but these are minor details when we confront the startling realities of Appalachia.
Before reading on, I invite you to read Pastor Alec’s blog from last week, if you haven’t done so already.
There is much that is beautiful and holy to be celebrated in this place. But that doesn’t undo the decades of job loss, grinding poverty, and ecological disaster that impact so many communities. It doesn’t begin to address the food insecurity that is the daily reality for over 26% of the households in some counties that ASP serves. The beauty of these mountains and riverways don’t begin to solve the issue of food deserts that find many an hour drive from a local grocery store. These numbers - and hearing the heartbreaking stories of people - can draw you into their weariness.
But don’t mistake these hurdles as despair. Don’t declare these situations as hopeless.
Our theme verse, “let us not grow weary of doing good,” is visible in every act of kindness that we witness here.
This week, our three work crews encountered families who have dwelled on family property for one hundred years and take immense pride in their property, their heritage, and in the presence of God in this place.
This week we heard about children tapped as leaders in their classes, stories of foster children being adopted and experiencing unconditional love in their forever family.
This week we sipped coffee and smoothies at a ministry-driven restaurant that uses profits to operate the food pantry next door.
This week we were led by a skilled, hard-working staff that not only led us in serving and on-site problem solving, but tirelessly nurtures relationships with homeowners in Jesus’ name.
This week we experienced overwhelming hospitality from our cooks and from locals who thanked us and wished us well. We filled our spirits with a local bluegrass band concert singing mountain songs and gospel tunes. We were enveloped by the loving embrace of our host families who treat us like kin.
We might be exhausted and tired, but we are not weary. God has energized us by the presence of these saints and the beauty of this place. God is here!
Wishing you joy!
Lowell
“Heaven must be a Kentucky kind of place.” The quote has multiple origin stories. It’s usually credited to Daniel Boone, and one story is that he said those words as he passed through the Cumberland gap, entering the Kentucky side of Appalachia. Supposedly, he took in the beauty of Kentucky and saw the land as paradise. In my bias, I believe it.
In my youth, two times I participated in “Y-Corps: Service to the Commonwealth,” in which a bunch of high schoolers from all corners of Kentucky got on a bus and traveled through the bluegrass state to serve our Kentucky home and be swept away by its culture, traditions, and history. On our way to Bell County, KY, bordering Tennessee and Virginia, one of our “captains,” who was from eastern Kentucky stood up and gave an impassioned speech about his love for Appalachia. He spoke of his contempt for how the region has been left behind, and how others, particularly fellow Kentuckians, look down upon the area. One of many takeaways was that we are not saviors; we are fortunate guests.
I knew what he said to be true, as I now roll my eyes when I hear someone say, “I’m not from Kentucky; I’m from Louisville”- a common trope. When people see Appalachia, they see poverty and stereotypes. There is a lack of empathy for left-behind coal mining communities. And there is forgottenness - as our media and our own eyes fixated on Flint Michigan, coal ash was poisoning drinking water in the mountains of Kentucky.
What people do not see is the might of economic populism that comes from generations of coal miners, transcends political identity, and is currently alive in the Trillbilly Workers’ Party. People ignore the natural beauty of the Red River Gorge and Cumberland Falls. Traditions and customs found in stories are still living well (as I mentioned in a previous blog, Justin got homemade moonshine for Christmas).
I’ll also borrow from what my captain pointed out in his speech, as he spoke of his love for the people that make up the region, “In Appalachia, there is no rich and poor. We live next door to each other regardless of our income,” or something to that effect. And I cannot forget to mention the cultural hub of Appalachian arts that is Berea, KY, nor the Kentucky right of passage that is eating Miguel’s pizza at Red River Gorge and popping off Ale8 tops with your hand and the edge of a picnic table. And since my dad works for the Colonel, I’ll put in a plug and say that the original KFC is in Appalachia.
On July 11, seventeen youth and adults from Lord of Life will head to Leslie County, KY for a week of making homes “warmer, safer, and drier” with Appalachia Service Project (ASP). As we serve, and as you join us through photos and stories, we must remember that eastern Kentucky is not simply a charity case. It is a feast to be had, and a home to cherish. When we come to Appalachia as a means to live, share, and celebrate with all people God’s love in Jesus Christ, it ain't one-sided. Feel blessed to take in Appalachia. Treasure that the mountains and the people are living, sharing, and celebrating with you. Christ is not the reaching out of your hand but is present in grasped hands. As we drive into the heart of Appalachia, feel lucky. It is a blessing.
“Heaven must be a Kentucky kind of place,”
Pastor Alec Brock, Seminary Intern (he, him, his)
When I arrived at the church on Monday, our altar and baptismal font were sitting on the front porch. This is not usually where they reside. Most of the time, they are at the front of our worship space, serving as central features in our lives of faith as we gather to be renewed in the waters of baptism and nourished in God’s holy meal. As part of our sanctuary renewal, they too are getting a little bit of a makeover.
A little bit of history. In many Christian worship spaces, the altar has long been a giant stone or wooden box, mimicking a place of slaughter and sacrifice. This comes from ancient traditions where animals were sacrificed to maintain or restore a right relationship with God or a god. This sacrificial language and practice is visible through many cultures throughout the ages. (Read Leviticus chapters 1-7 to get an overview of Israel’s system of offerings and sacrifices.)
In the last eighty years, as part of liturgical renewal in the church, the altar has increasingly looked more like a table. This mimics the language and example of Jesus gathering around tables time and time again to break bread and share drink, making room for both the faithful and the faithless. Over and over, Jesus invited people from all walks of life to come, eat, and be filled. One biblical scholar even comments that in the gospel according to Luke, Jesus is always eating! He is either on his way to a meal, eating a meal, or leaving a meal. Gathering around a table is central to the ministry of Jesus.
Back to our altar… As part of our sanctuary renewal, we are adding a top to our communion table that extends beyond the basic boxy framework of our altar, as a visible sign that there’s room at this table for all. Our communion words point us in this direction:
We give you thanks that all are invited to this table,
regardless of their background, to receive your healing.
Those whom society deems unworthy,
those without daily bread, those exploited,
and those on the very edge of our society.
Jesus is the host. We are guests at his table. There is always enough for all.
A similar moment of hospitality is happening with the Lord of Life baptismal font. If you are a young child or a person in a wheelchair, you’ve never been able to see into our font and view these waters of promise and rebirth. As part of this sanctuary renewal, we are reducing the height of our font, so that the splashing waters are visible and accessible to all. It might not seem like much, but this is yet another visible sign of God’s presence among us in our physical space.
This week marks the end of our three-year capital campaign for Share the Light. Thank you for your generosity in making this sanctuary renewal and other projects possible, so we can radiate the light of Christ within our congregation and to the greater community. Please see the update in our July Lifeline for details and images of the latest progress.
Earlier this spring, I offered you an invitation to extend your generosity into a fourth year. Rising construction costs, COVID restrictions, job losses, along with other factors that we could have never anticipated, have slowed our construction process and also put us behind schedule on giving. Thank you to all who accepted the challenge to continue their pledge or give a one-time gift. If you haven’t joined the effort, it isn’t too late. We still have much work to do.
When you come to worship this Sunday or tune in online, the communion table and baptismal font won’t be here. But even in their absence, we will sing, pray, and eat, trusting that God shows up with an unconditional and everlasting love.
Sharing the Light,
Pastor Lowell
Originally published on https://blog.wearesparkhouse.org, May 20, 2021. ©2021 1517 Media.
One of the silver linings of the global pandemic is how it pushed pause on much of our programming for students. When COVID turned everything upside down and backward, it offered the unique opportunity to press reset on our ministry in the most wonderful ways. We could look ahead with purpose and answer root questions, like:
During a time in both history and the development stage of adolescence when independence reigns supreme, consider what might happen if we create a culture of healthy interdependence among students. What if, in a world that is full of broken relationships and poor examples of the function of family, we embrace our Biblical family tree and create a close-knit, accepting community that prompts students to a ministry with and for each other and the world?
Embrace the opportunity to intentionally root students in relationships: with God, with each other, with the world. Create an environment where students can learn and grow together.
Connect the dots.
An interdependent community is inherently about what holds it together. Focus on guiding students through what makes each of them unique, but also how we are linked as a Christian community. When we connect with God, we connect with each other. Connect the dots between what God calls us to do, the passions that drive and fulfill us, and how the world needs us to serve.
Value the ask.
An interdependent community needs each other. Encourage asking for help and asking questions. Question marks lead to deep dives, and often belly flops into more questions. As a leader, learn how to listen well and teach students this skill, especially without having all the answers. Find comfort in being silent together, establishing space for the wonder that comes with knowing God. Make it a goal for students’ first instincts to be to reach out when they feel low, out of balance, or alone.
Keep Jesus at the center.
An interdependent community chases a common goal, standing behind a recognized leader or set of values. Align all that you do together behind the love, promises, and principles of Jesus.
Take a long view and create an interdependent community that stands together to experience the awe and wonder of God’s work in and through it.
Tera Michelson
Tera is a silver-haired youth leader, serving the church since 1994. She loves Jesus and teens. She is a pastor’s spouse, mother of three, and writes at the world’s loudest house on a hilly street in Ohio.
+ + +
Right now, we are assembling leadership teams, teachers, mentors, and other caring adults for children and youth ministry. Is the Spirit of God nudging you to step up and serve? Please be in touch with Pastor Lowell (