I love long car rides. I generally prefer to drive anywhere I can go by car in less than 10 hours rather than go through the hassle of getting on a plane and flying. It is another story if I’m stuck in a car with a stranger or someone I don’t trust. It is particularly unsettling that my distrust is for my own father.

To say that one particular ride left a scar is an understatement. I was in my early teens. My parents had been divorced for several years and things were already tense between us. I lived with my mom most of the time and managed to keep myself busy enough to avoid my dad as much as I could. But I couldn’t say “no” when he wanted me to visit my grandpa, who was in the hospital in Columbus, two hours away from Findlay where I grew up.

That’s how I found myself in his truck, shotgun mounted on the back window, Smith and Wesson handgun under his seat, on route 23, surrounded by cornfields, riding south toward Columbus, the cab feeling more and more suffocating as the minutes slogged on. Then, he reached over to turn down the radio.

“Son,” ugh … even as I’m writing this 25 years later I can feel my chest constricting. One word out of his mouth and there was no direction this could have gone that could have made the rest of my day feel better. He kept going:

“I know you’ve been hanging around with a lot of people who are ‘different’ than us,” (here, I already know he is referring to the one gay friend I’ve managed to find in my tiny home town) “but it’s our job as Christians to show people the right way.”

At this point words could not have passed my lips if I had wanted them to, but at 15 years old, I had neither the wit, nor the emotional fortitude to respond to that. I set my jaw and willed the tears to remain firmly in their ducts. But he wasn’t finished:

“And if you ever turn gay, I’ll shoot you.”

In Acts 4, the apostles speak to the people about Christ’s resurrection and the priests (the same ones who had Jesus crucified) arrest them. How inconvenient! These trained theologians went through all the trouble of killing the Son of God, who was trying to get everyone to love each other, only to have him come back to life and have his ministry carry on anyway. 

At some point, I’m sure they thought they were right. Like everyone, they were taught a certain way and were truly appalled by this carpenter claiming he had more authority than they did. Confronted with the evidence of Jesus’ teaching, miracles, and resurrection, they could have made the choice to open their minds and accept Christ’s call to love one another. Instead, they locked his disciples away (and eventually executed most of them) in an attempt to cling to their outdated beliefs.

My father thought he was right. I don’t know if he intended that his threat would somehow change my “gayness,” if it would cause me to hide it, or if he might have actually followed through and killed me. When your father, or anyone else for that matter, is rejecting you because of something you can’t change, it is hard to stop and think about what is going on in their head.

What I am confident about is that I can choose to learn and adapt and, when confronted with similar situations and situations I think I know something about, make the decision to love first and ask compassionate questions later.

Yours in love,

John

We had a fantastic day in the woods of Camp Kern with our junior high students recently, talking about Holy Week, resurrection, and beyond. Other than the gorgeous trees and the massive rainstorm that rolled through Saturday afternoon, our time was dominated by questions. “Why the footwashing?” “Why Passover?” “Why the cross?” “Why so many different resurrection stories?” “What is an Emmaus?” As we answered these questions, even more inquiries and clarifications arose.

That’s our life, isn’t it? We wonder and seek, only to have more questions rise in our hearts and minds.

I’m grateful that our Christian theology maintains abundant room for questions, wonder, and doubt. Not only is the Bible filled with people and situations seeking answers, but when influential thinker Martin Luther set out to explain the Christian faith to children and their parents, he structured the whole thing around the question, “What does this mean?” Tackling the Ten Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Apostles’ Creed, this query provided a springboard into faith-filled wrestling.

We have many questions about our lives together right now. Worship, learning, and interaction patterns are still turned upside down because of our last thirteen months of COVID restrictions. Here are a few of the questions I hear most frequently with some answers.

What happened to 9:30 am worship?
The 9:30 am worship moment is on pause for now, as Pastor Alec and I help cover teaching moments during that time. Lord of Life hosts Learning Hour at 9:30 and, right now, we bounce back-and-forth between online junior high and Sunday school classes, assisting those who are leading, as well as taking our turns to teach. Do you want to be a part of Sunday morning learning for little ones or teens? Contact our Youth Ministry Area Coordinators, Lisa Bacu and Danielle Beneteau, This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.. 9:30 am worship will be back. Thank you for your patience, as we seek to maintain our important ministry of education.

Why didn’t we pass the offering plate at Easter for in-person worship?
For the foreseeable future, the less contact we share, the better for our well-being, so we will not be passing the offering plate. If you are worshiping in person, you can drop your offering in the designated container at the welcome table or give electronically online, mail in a check, or drop your offering off in the church office. Thank you for your continued generosity and help to fuel ministry.

Do we still commune ourselves?
We celebrate Holy Communion each week, whether we worship in person or online. While we prefer to gather around the altar in a shared space for the Lord’s Supper, we believe that Jesus is present as we eat and drink, drawing us closer to God and into a deeper relationship with one another. For in-person worship, you may use the wafer and juice provided, or bring your own communion elements (bread and wine, cracker and grape juice, other).

How long will online worship continue?
Online worship is now part of our rhythm and will be offered for each worship moment, as well as some other events. (Be sure to watch our Theology For Today discussion panel at 9:30 am, this Sunday.) As a side note, online worship is not virtual worship. Online worship is actual worship, whether watched live-streamed or recorded at a later date. We trust that the Spirit of God shows up each time we gather and our prayer, reflection, and praise is a celebration of our love and adoration. Yes, it is different than what we’ve been used to in the past, but we give thanks for the many ways that God gathers, speaks, feeds, and sends us in this new era.

There are still many questions for which we don’t have answers: “When will we worship together in the sanctuary again?” “When will we break ground for the new multipurpose community space?” “When will the Share the Light project be complete?” “When is our next rummage sale?” For these – and so many more questions – we don’t have answers, yet. We will keep you posted as plans develop.

Thank you for your faithful flexibility during this unusual season of life and ministry. Thank you for your ongoing support and encouragement in the ministry to which God calls us at Lord of Life. It is such a joy to share this journey of faith with you as we live, share, and celebrate the unconditional love of the resurrected Jesus with all people!

Still seeking answers,

Pastor Lowell

You’re probably wondering why I’m asking this question. According to a Gallup poll, 2020 was the first year that church/synagogue/mosque membership fell below 50% of the adult population, meaning, more adults are not going to a church than are going to church. This shows a slow change in American culture, in which attending church is going from mainstream culture to subculture- that is, a culture that is not in the center. This is largely due to the rise of “nones,” a group of Americans who do not affiliate with any particular religion. 

As someone who plans to pastor for the next forty years of his life, you can imagine that the future of church membership is a concern for me. However, I’m not panicked. Instead, I’m curious what the church of tomorrow will be like. How will the church exist as a subculture? How will the church maintain relevance? How will the church speak to a world that doesn’t belong to her? 

If the church wishes to have relevance in a world of nones, the church has to entertain a question, if God doesn’t exist, is religion in vain? Similarly, in a world of mystery, how can organized religion be an answer? Can I be a Christian but not believe in x,y, and z? Can I fully participate in your congregation but be agnostic?

Just as Jesus sent the disciples into the realities of the world, the church must scatter and touch an unchurched world. Not necessarily so that the world may change, though can be, but so that the world may experience Christ materialized in our world. The church must place itself within the mindset of the emerging nones and all who wrestle with the relevance of God. It must sit in doubt and in unorganized spirituality. In order to speak to those who do not confess certainty in particular religious thought the church must answer questions, such as “If God is not real, is religion in vain?” Or in other words, the church is to create room for curiosity and questioning. For skeptics, the church must give itself purpose.

My answer to this question is no, because even if God is not real, God is in our hearts. Even if our brains are swarming with doubts, there are comforting words in scripture that can bring peace to our souls. If we look around, we can see the image of God in people who do not necessarily go to church - as people march for justice, seek out community, and look for spiritual discipline in some form. Amid disbelief, there is a feast to be had through the church. 

I do not necessarily know the future of the church, but if it is going to provide Jesus to the world, it is going to have to further outstretch its arms. The body of Christ will have to validate uncertainty and doubt, just as it validates unwavering faith. It must be a place for questioning and wandering so that it may also be a home.

Your sibling in Christ,

Pastor Alec Brock, Seminary Intern (he/him/his)

While I enjoy a good joke, I’m not much of a prankster on April Fools’ Day or any other day for that matter. I can’t remember jokes and – truth be told – April 1 usually sneaks up on me in such a way that I’m unaware of the huckster holiday until someone does or says something ridiculous to me.

Seven years ago, I was caught off guard when I shared serious news with a friend and she accused me of pulling an April Fools’ shenanigan on her. Lord of Life had recently extended me a letter of call to be your pastor and I accepted. I thought through the best scenarios to share the information of my departure with the congregation and community, but before telling the congregation, area ministry colleagues, and Wichita friends, I wanted to tell my associate, Pastor Kristin.

On April 1, we met in her office and I told her about my decision to serve a church in Ohio. She chuckled and said, “Yeah, right! April Fools!” My facial expression and vocal tone as I reiterated my news quickly let her know that I wasn’t joking. I should have given the timing of my announcement a little more consideration.

No one is quite sure of the origins of April Fools’ Day. Some argue that a misreading of Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales (1392) launched the day of hoaxes, while others contend that it is tied to the vernal equinox in the Northern Hemisphere when Mother Nature fools people with the unpredictable and changing weather. Additional resources link April Fools’ Day to festivals in ancient Rome such as Hilaria, Latin for joyful.

“Some historians speculate that April Fools’ Day dates back to 1582, when France switched from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian calendar, as called for by the Council of Trent in 1563. In the Julian Calendar, as in the Hindu calendar, the new year began with the spring equinox around April 1. 

“People who were slow to get the news or failed to recognize that the start of the new year had moved to January 1 and continued to celebrate it during the last week of March through April 1 became the butt of jokes and hoaxes and were called ‘April fools,’” (history.com).

I imagine that there were many moments that Jesus’ disciples thought he was joking. Not only did his countless stories and parables entertain and confuse, but the miracles of turning water into wine, multiplying loaves and fishes, and multiple healings walked the line between sleight of hand and carnival act.

They thought he was a fool to stroll into the heart of the religious and political beast in Jerusalem. It would be certain death. His critics called him naïve, thinking that he could change the world with forgiveness and love. Through the ages, people have called him both Savior and Lord, as well as fool.

This April 1, we hear the Maundy Thursday reading where Jesus gives his disciples a new commandment to love one another (John 13:34-35). It wasn’t a suggestion or something to consider, but a mandate (Latin mandātum). On this, his final night on Earth, Jesus wasn’t fooling around or joking.

These words shape our lives, too. Selfless love and care for our neighbor isn’t some kind of a practical joke or a once-a-year gag. Instead, it is a promise that transforms who we are and how we live. St. Paul writes, “the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18).

As followers of Jesus, we can expect to be called naïve fools or worse. Serving and loving all people doesn’t make sense in a “protect your own interests” paradigm, but the Spirit of God pushes us forward into life that is lived beyond ourselves.

Not joking about loving everyone,

Pastor Lowell

At Lord of Life, we open each of our weekly staff meetings with a devotion. This week, office manager Cara read the first sentence of the devotional she chose, “In spirituality, there are basically two paths, what I’ve called the path of the fall and the path of the return.” When “fall and return” appeared as a dichotomy, my mind drifted away from the author’s purpose, though it was a good one, and I wondered, “What does it mean to think of salvation as a return?”

Typically, we think of salvation as an arrival; “we have reached the top of the spiritual hierarchy.” Eternal life in our lives, or the life of the world to come, is reaching somewhere or something we previously did not have. But this narrative ignores our creation story that we often label as “The Great Fall,” that is, the story of Adam and Eve picking and eating the forbidden fruit. Allegorically, this story serves as an explanation for who we are as human beings - people created in the image of God, yet, “fallen” as imperfect people in an imperfect world.

This theme of fallen and returned is in play throughout scripture. The prodigal son does not arrive at his father’s house, meeting his dad for the first time. Rather, he returns to where he was raised. The shepherd does not leave the ninety-nine sheep to go after one that doesn’t belong to him. Rather, he goes out to claim the sheep that is rightfully his. When the lost sheep is found, it is a returning moment.

In the philosophically rich show The Good Place - a comical NBC series mostly taking place in the after-life, Chidi explains life and death,

Picture a wave in the ocean. You can see it, measure it, its height, the way the sunlight refracts when it passes through. And it's there. And you can see it; you know what it is. It's a wave.

And then it crashes on the shore and it's gone. But the water is still there. The wave was just a different way for the water to be, for a little while. You know it's one conception of death: the wave returns to the ocean, where it came from and where it's supposed to be.

This concept echoes the reality of what it means to be Christian in our current lives. Matthew 16:25 reads, “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” As Christians, we confess that out of death comes resurrection, and out of dying to oneself comes new life. Just as a wave dies and returns to the ocean, by dying to oneself we return to God.

So what would it look like if we embraced salvation as a return? How would we feel if our baptismal liturgy said, “By the power of the Holy Spirit, you are returned to our Heavenly Father, baptized in Christ?” If we were to think of repentance as returning to God - thus, not simply turning - we would confess like the prodigal son, that God’s righteousness is our home, not our straying ways.

We are fallen like Adam and Eve, lost like the missing sheep, astray like the prodigal son, but by the grace of God, as a wave returns to the ocean, God has returned us to Godself, the One who claims us, forgives us, and renews us.

Your sibling in Christ,

Pastor Alec Brock, Seminary Intern (he/his)

“Having light we pass it on to others.” You can’t walk around Wittenberg University in Springfield, OH without learning this, the school’s motto. It is pressed in the massive bronze seal in the center of campus and etched in glass on entryway doors. The passing of the torch graphic is imprinted on letterhead and illuminated in the stained glass windows of Weaver Chapel. Light pole banners, campus activity posters, and Witt merchandise all feature the campus mantra. “Having light we pass it on to others” dominates the landscape of this liberal arts university.

A little history. “The university was created by a group of pastors who broke with the German church and created the English Evangelical Lutheran Synod of Ohio. They believed that the English language was a way to foster the inclusiveness of the new American nation. In 1842, the new synod voted unanimously to establish a theological and literary institution that would serve the educational and cultural needs of new immigrants and new communities.” (www.wittenberg.edu). From the beginning, Wittenberg was a beacon of hope!

But this motto is more than only a catchphrase from the early years of this institution. It is a mission statement that continues to propel people into transformative learning and growth, and then out into the world to make a difference.

When I was a student at Wittenberg, I couldn’t help but read the motto through my own Christian lens. Sharing the light of Christ is at the heart of our journey. During these undergraduate years, you are given the opportunity to huddle on campus and in the community to learn and grow in the things that you already love and enjoy, but also to wonder, stretch, explore, and invest beyond your comfort zone. It is an invitation to follow the lead of the Holy Spirit as you learn more about yourself, the needs of the world, and how God is calling you to offer your wonderful and unique self to love and serve. “Having light we pass it on to others” was not only about caring for one another and life together on campus, but also a paradigm for life.

That’s what we’re up to it Lord Of Life, too. We gather as a community of Christian faith to be encouraged and fueled up, and then take the light of Christ out into every corner of our diverse lives. Our mission statement helps focus our energies to “live, share, and celebrate with all people, God’s love in Jesus Christ.” This isn’t a little club motto for us to hide behind, but a marching mandate as we love and serve God and neighbor.

We are light-bearers here and now. We even named our capital campaign “Share the Light.” Now is the time for us to live deeper into relationships, stand with people in moments of joy and sorrow, celebration and loss. How that happens looks different for each of us, as we radiate hope, healing, and encouragement to the world.

Now is also the time for us to share more generously, as we carve out extra time to be a mentor, tutor, listening ear, or helping hand. It is also about sharing our gifts, whether it be in leadership, finances, an encouraging word, or otherwise.

And now is certainly the time for celebration! Not only a happy, party kind of celebration as vaccines roll out, but marking milestones and immersing friends, neighbors, and strangers in the promises of God.

This is a time for us to radiate the brilliant love and light of Jesus Christ in the world. We may still be in the final days of winter, in the middle of Lent, but Easter promises are on the horizon. We love, because God first loved us! (1 John 4:19)

Sharing the light of Christ,

Pastor Lowell