“Facts are the cornerstones of reality. At least, they used to be."

“In today's ultra-polarised environment, however – marked by deep political divisions, heightened social tensions, and a deluge of misinformation and fake news – facts are rather less certain in people's minds than they once were.”

This quote from Peter Dockrill, in the Australian online science journal Science Alert (www.sciencealert.com, Feb 1, 2021), confirmed what many of us have suspected and witnessed: facts don't hold the weight and certitude they once did.

Dockrill argues, “If you really want to stand a chance of changing somebody's mind on a serious topic, there's something else you should be telling them: Your own personal experiences.”

This has always been the strategy of the Christian faith – testimony. From the beginning, those who encountered the living God shared their own experiences, declaring what they knew to be true. Over and over, first-person accounts of redemption, forgiveness, reconciliation, healing, and even resurrection moved skeptics and naysayers to belief. Those who saw, heard, and tasted the goodness of God could speak with assurance after experiencing the presence of the living God.

Personal experiences are what constitute much of our Holy Scripture. The Bible is a journal filled with people sharing their God encounters.

The leper couldn’t keep their mouth shut after Jesus’ cleansing touch (Mark 1:39-45), but recounted their story while highlighting their renewed flesh.

Zacchaeus was so overwhelmed by Jesus’ presence and forgiveness that he made amends with all he had scammed (Luke 19:1-10).

A Samaritan woman went to the well to draw a bucket of water, but also found her heart filled with living water when she encountered Jesus (John 4:1-42). John tells us, “Many Samaritans from that city believed in Jesus because of the woman’s testimony.”

After experiencing a “great light from heaven” which called him by name, the prolific persecutor of Christians, Saul/Paul, became one of the greatest missionaries and disciples of Jesus, telling stories of hope and freedom grounded in Christ. (Acts 22 and beyond).

What’s your story? How have you encountered God? When have you been overwhelmed by the presence of the Creator in creation? When has Jesus walked with you or a loved one? Have you heard the still small voice of the Holy Spirit? How do you share these stories with your family, friends, and strangers?

Sharing our encounters with the living God is so central to what we do at Lord of Life that we’ve included it in our mission statement – “live, share, and celebrate!” Yes, sharing includes offering our time to serving God and neighbor. And yes, sharing involves being generous with our finances, but it also demands that we tell the stories of faith. We not only share the biblical stories and those who have gone before us, but also share what we have seen with our eyes and hearts.

I love to tell the Story,

Pastor Lowell

The month of January can be tough in the best of times. The holidays are over and the decorations are put away. While it is sometimes a relief to clean up and return to uncluttered spaces, I never enjoy the seemingly endless cloudy winter days. Even without an actual diagnosis of Seasonal Affective Disorder, the gray days can bring most folks down. Of course, these are not the best of times. We’re all living in the unprecedented times of a global pandemic, and many of the usual remedies to the January blahs are not available to us.

Some days, I try to find comfort in routine. I enjoy making myself a latte every morning. While  I savor the delicate, warm, foamy goodness, I read the New York Times daily news brief. Lately, I’ve found myself skimming the top stories, since they don’t change much from day to day: the virus and its fallout dominate the headlines and our lives. Many of the stories under the banner of ‘Other News’ would warrant top billing at any other time: tornadoes, international scandals, and violence.

But this week, an unusually click-bait style headline caught my attention, as intended. “The last known female Swinhoe’s softshell turtle died in 2019 - or so scientists thought.” I took the bait, and I was delighted and captivated. Just in case you missed the story, I’ll give you a quick recap. Scientists in Vietnam who have been studying this endangered species for decades were devastated when the last known female Swinhoe’s softshell turtle died last year, leaving one male in captivity, and one turtle of unverified species and gender in the wild. Using environmental DNA technology, they’ve determined the turtle is a female Swinhoe’s softshell turtle! Their exhaustive study and field surveys have turned up a few more turtles in the wild that are likely to be Swinhoe’s as well. 

The presence or absence of this species of turtle is not likely to change my life or anybody else’s in any measurable way. They aren’t the source of a life-saving medicine or the missing link to evolutionary theory. Yet, the existence of a couple of turtles has given scientists tremendous hope that they can save a species. I am gratified that there are people who will dedicate their lives to understanding and caring for our planet. Isn’t that what we need? A little bit of hope.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

Where are you finding hope this January? What is a remedy that helps sustain you during these days of isolation? As you continue to search for a midwinter boost, the Spirit of God is close at hand, ready to surprise you with joy and good news. Please take care: if you find the blahs won’t go away and are affecting your everyday life, reach out for help. The weather forecast predicts some sunny days this week. Even if you don’t see the sun this week, I pray you find something that sparks joy for you.

Your sister in Christ,

Cara Hasselbeck

"Do you ever sleep?"

People ask me that a lot. Most recently it was because I was showing someone photos of my latest home remodeling project - an 8-foot movie screen framed with leftover parts of a pipe organ. It was on the heels of a particularly busy week - I had finished a virtual open house for Lord of Life Christian Preschool, rebuilt their website, created a 5-minute animated cartoon in Spanish for Vida Eterna (the Latinx community that worships in our space) celebration of Three Kings Day, and collaborated in an impromptu Service of Healing because of the recent national unrest.

But the truth is, I sleep a lot - at least as much as everyone else. I get jealous of the people who can live off of less than eight hours a day. My day is spent buzzing with creative ideas, to-do lists, and general anxieties about everything going on in the world. That last bit, of course, is what I feel like I have the least amount of control over, but it is what tends to weigh me down the most. There was a time when it might have kept me up at night, but now I just go to bed exhausted by it all.

There are days when I struggle to figure out what my part is in fixing all the things going wrong in the news. At 22, Amanda Gorman just yesterday recited a poem that nearly overshadowed the rest of a very news-worthy inauguration day. At 18, Greta Thunberg is taking on climate change on the world stage. At 41, I have neither the influence nor the skill set to do anything like that.

I could run myself ragged trying to come up with the next big idea to save the world, gain internet fame, get millions of followers and really make a difference! But that whole sleep thing … I really do like to sleep. Is that selfish? Trying to balance my need for self-care and my desire to make a difference makes me feel cross-eyed. I want to look outward and follow Christ’s call to discipleship, but I realize I have to look inward and see to my own survival, as well.

After some reflection, and some therapy, and some pretty good sermons, I think I’ve come to accept that it is ok to be cross-eyed. Jesus doesn’t mean for us all to be superheroes. He calls us all to be part of a whole body. And even though the part of the body I represent might not be the one making the biggest impact on the world, I’d like to think providing music for worship, or an animation for a bilingual celebration, or guiding someone to our preschool might be the spark that brings someone else into the body, too.

Some days my part of the body manages to get a lot done,  and some days,  the best I can do is keep my head up and set an example of being a good human. I imagine that, at the end of the day, is what most of us are called to be. What part of the body are you?

If your thought is “Jesus” when reading “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” you are correct! This is the question that is asked when Phillip tries to show Nathanael Jesus Christ. From our gospel lesson this coming Sunday (the lesson I will not be preaching on) we know Nazareth doesn’t have a dazzling reputation. It echos a similar sentiment when in the gospel of Matthew Jesus is preaching in Nazareth,  “Is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother called Mary?” as the people of Nazareth could not compute how someone as awesome as Jesus could come from Joseph and Mary. Apparently, Jesus is not only from a non-noteworthy town; within the town, he is not from a family of good reputation.

I think we all need this to be true right now - that Jesus Christ does not come from a city as glamorous as New York, or a family as prestigious as the Bezoses or the Musks. I need goodness to come from unexpected places and peoples. I need God incarnate to come from Appalachia, the rust belt, and “the hood.” I want Jesus to come from low places, especially when I feel as if I am in a low place, or when we are in low places.

And indeed, he does. My boyfriend and I are black sheep in our families for the simple fact that we have moved away from home. Justin’s entire family lives on the same street in King’s Mountain, Kentucky, but he packed his bags for Louisville and insists on living in a city. I am the only person I can think of on my mother’s entire side of the family that has moved out of state, as her family resides in the south end of Louisville or western Kentucky. And I will probably be the only member of the family that will continue to live out of state as my career evolves with time. 

It can be perceived as leaving one’s roots to be somewhere bigger, better, or more promising. It can even feel like a rejection. Yet, we know there is so much goodness in Appalachia. The breathtaking mountains are filled with string music, and if you know someone - easy access to homemade moonshine (one of Justin’s Christmas gifts). Kentucky is the land of bourbon and more bourbon, my papaw’s overalls, and my mamaw’s cooking. We “don’t wear shoes” as the endless jokes and second thoughts roll on, but Jesus comes from places like Kentucky, “dying” rust belt cities, and low-income neighborhoods. Jesus comes from farming, coal mining, and factory working. There are goodness and beauty in the undervalued low places and unseen people.

Look for God where there is no expectation to find Him. See Her where others choose not to go. God is there. 

Blessed by the low places,

Alec Brock, Seminary Intern

he/him/his

I use the word Peace often. I write it when closing a letter or note. It has been part of my email signature for more than fourteen years. I say it to both friend and stranger when departing and I mean it. It is shorthand for “I wish you God’s peace.”

You might think that I lob it out because it is a kind Christianese signature and you would be correct. You may also wonder if there’s a hippie part of me lurking just beneath the surface. Yep, that’s true, too. I’ve owned two vintage Volkswagens and briefly lived in both the Pacific Northwest and California. But the real reason I invoke a word of peace regularly is because of the deep gravity of this holy word.

Our world is not at peace and our hearts and minds are not at peace. We need God’s peace every chance we get. Each Sunday throughout my entire life, our congregational prayers have included a petition for peace – in our neighborhoods and cities, in our schools and places of work, among our government leaders, in our lives, and throughout the world. We live in fractured relationships in a broken world that is mangled and disfigured by greed, selfishness, fear, and the other symptoms of sin.

The Hebrew word for peace, shalom, is derived from a root denoting wholeness or completeness and its frame of reference throughout Jewish literature is bound up with the notion of shelemut, perfection.

(www.myjewishlearning.com). Shalom is the daily greeting in Israel and shalom alekem “peace be upon you” is a common expression we could translate as “Good day” or “May you be well.” The Greek word eirene springs from the same essence meaning “unity and accord.”

In our Christmas reading from Isaiah, we hear, among other things, that the name of Jesus is “Prince of Peace.”

 “For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us;
   And the government will rest on His shoulders;
   And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
   Eternal Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6).

The psalmist declares that the LORD blesses God’s people with shalom (Psalm 29:11) and encourages all people to seek peace and pursue it (Psalm 34:14). Jesus spent his life speaking a word of shalom to those who were alone, hurting, fearful, and anxious. On Easter, Jesus met his disciples in the upper room and brought a word of  eirene – peace and unity (Luke 24:36).

When we pass the Peace in worship, it is not our peace. It is not the “Hey dude, chill out!” kind of peace that the world offers and it is not some shallow aspiration of “Can’t we all just get along?” This is not just about our well wishes. Instead, we are clear that our wish – our prayer – is that the Spirit of God would fill the one to whom we are speaking with hope and joy, alleviating fear and anxiety, now and forever. “The Peace of Christ be with you – always!”

Today, let’s “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” As we do, may the Spirit of God use us to bring wholeness and unity as we get to work in Jesus’ name.

Wishing you God’s deep and abiding Peace,

Pastor Lowell

What a year it has been! We never anticipated how different our lives would be in 2020. We are so grateful for the many new ways you have served and participated in life and ministry at Lord of Life throughout the past year. We thank God for each of you and the numerous ways that you generously share your lives for God’s mission here, in our community, and throughout the world. Thank you also for your Christmas gifts.

As we jump into a new year of growing in faith, we pray that the Spirit of God will continue to bring us health, joy, and peace as we remain rooted in the promises of Jesus.