For many of us, we are in the exciting season that is election season. For others, we are in the worst season. As a politics junkie with a bachelor’s degree in political science, this season is full of fun as I stay up late for every Super Tuesday, clear my schedule as much as I possibly can for party conventions, watch all of the debates, and fill out a Senate and electoral college maps - a politics junkie’s equivalent of a March Madness bracket.
Though I love election season, I am also aware that politics does not always draw out the best in us, especially for political junkies. I can easily fall back into wanting to prove a point more than genuinely hear an opposing opinion. I contribute to the unhealthiness of our current political climate of polarization through the in-take of hyper-partisan news sources that affirm but do not challenge my opinions. When looking at the inner workings of politics, foul play in one party is corruption, but in another party it is the name of the game.
This awareness affirms a hard-learned lesson from my “political behavior” class in college. People who are most like me in their political behavior are not those who agree with me but are less passionate and less involved. Rather, those who are most like me are people on the opposite side of the political spectrum but share the same level of passion and involvement.
“The other” or the “opposing force” and I are both making campaign contributions and rolling our eyes at campaign yard signs. We are taking in too much television news, and are conflating positions on nuanced issues with our moral compass. We are firm in our positions and our opinions do not frequently change. We spend too much time in the comment sections on social media outlets and online news articles. Yet, because of political polarization, “you all are a lot alike,” is a reality check, and an unwanted check. But it is good news.
Despite all the ways we separate ourselves from each other, at our core, we are not that different from each other. We all go to the ballot box with our family and future on our minds. And in a polarizing political climate, including swing-state Ohio, scripture calls us to find our commonality in Christ, as we break bread together (6ft apart), pray together, sing together, and simply live together.
A modern paraphrase,
“There is no longer Democrat or Republican, there is no longer liberal or conservative, there is no longer Trump voter and Biden voter; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” Galatians 3:28
Living into being one body of people in Christ is not easy when our political climate is polarized and simultaneously shaping our own personal identities. However, this lesson is an invitation to listen to others we disagree with, find commonality, and build one another up instead of tearing each other down. And it’s refreshing news as it reminds us that our God is bigger than the toxic political climate that we often find ourselves in.
I will likely need to remind myself of Christ’s inclusion and my shared humanity within 24 hours, because in a split second, through thought or word I may forget the good news. But living into one body is what I am called to do and to strive for. As the church lives into being one body in Christ, may we, mere persons, live into our shared humanity.
Your sibling in Christ,
Pastor Alec
(he, him, his)
P.S.: Have you planned your vote? With means of voting changing state by state due to Covid, it may be in your best interest to plan ahead.
Registering to vote:
Early voting:
Absentee voting:
You may also vote in-person on election day, Nov. 3.
For more information on voting in Ohio: https://www.ohiosos.gov/elections/
It’s a catchy title for a blog, isn’t it? I thought the same thing when it appeared in my email inbox a couple of weeks ago. I subscribe to a Christian leadership blogger named Carey Nieuwhof who delivers daily thoughts to my inbox. Sometimes I read them, sometimes I don’t, but the title of this particular blog drew me in. It spoke to me so much, that I wanted to share it all with you.
Let me prepare you though… Carey’s blog posts are sometimes hard to read. There are some pop-ups, paragraphs are sometimes disrupted by invitations to tweet something or buy a leadership course, the blog seems longer than it really is because of the line spacing, and like ALWAYS, never read the comments on a blog! Despite all of that, in this time of increased aggression within our world, I encourage you to read all the way to the end.
One of the key messages of the blog is about how we speak to one another, online and in person. Neiuwhof says, “Critique is different than criticism. A critique aims to build up, not to tear down. So it’s not like you can never say anything negative. But what you have to say should help people get better and feel better. If you can’t figure out how to do that, you’re not ready to post.” I am challenging myself, and you as well, to begin running our thoughts through this filter before posting content online. As Christians we are called to care for one another and it is easier to do that when we come alongside and offer advice and help, rather than tearing one another down.
Here is the article: https://bit.ly/2PNNJ1Q
Happy reading!
Pastor Corey
Earlier this week I walked into the church office and saw our office administrator, Cara, printing out beautiful stickers and backpack tags for our Blessing of the Backpacks moment that read “You Are Loved.” Behind the words were a full array of colors to represent LGBTQ+ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer) persons, with particular representation to LGBTQ+ persons of color, and the transgender community. This filled me with joy, not simply because I will make sure to receive one of those stickers, but also, as a gay man, I appreciated the inclusive statement being made in such a small, but meaningful way.
Sitting in my office chair, I thought about how those stickers and backpack tags would have been meaningful for me in my youth. I particularly thought about the 15-year-old me who was wrestling with his sexuality as a theologically and socially conservative Christian, who contemplated whether or not his salvation was compromised by his sexuality. I wondered how hearing from a classmate, “I got this sticker from church” could have been life-giving words that healed my wounds.
The same morning, I went to my email and opened up my daily devotional, and my favorite passage from my favorite book in the Bible, Job, was the reading for that day,
“Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind:
“Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?
Gird up your loins like a man,
I will question you, and you shall declare to me.
“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell me, if you have understanding.
Who determined its measurements—surely you know!
Or who stretched the line upon it?
On what were its bases sunk,
or who laid its cornerstone
when the morning stars sang together
and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?
“Or who shut in the sea with doors
when it burst out from the womb?—
when I made the clouds its garment,
and thick darkness its swaddling band,
and prescribed bounds for it,
and set bars and doors,
and said, ‘Thus far shall you come, and no farther,
and here shall your proud waves be stopped’?
Job 38:1-11, 16-18
From the lesson, the Creator Almighty visited Job with a herculean appearance and challenged the strong theological convictions of Job and his friends by asking questions, such as, “Where were you when I laid down the foundations of the Earth?” Those questions served to put them in their place for having confidence in knowing exactly how God operated in our world. For me, this passage has always been meaningful as I have found rest in the knowledge of God as being the all-present, all-powerful, all-knowing deity.
However, when I read this passage with “You Are Loved” stickers and backpack tags in the back of my mind, I read the passage with new eyes. There is so much grace in God being the person who laid out the foundations of the Earth. God, being the person who laid out the foundations, set the cosmos into motion, separated land from sea, and more. Thus, God has the responsibilities that I do not have to carry, and cannot possibly carry. Like Job and his friends, when I am next to God, I am small.
I am not enough to eradicate this world of poverty. I cannot snap my fingers and make racism disappear. I cannot ensure that justice is always served. And when I feel as if I am not enough, I can take comfort in the knowledge that I am not God. But, I can display a “You Are Loved” sticker on my computer, wrap a “You Are Loved” tag onto my backpack, and know that this simple act will provide life-giving words and heal wounds to someone like the 15-year-old me.
Your sibling in Christ,
Pastor Alec
(he, him, his)
I put on my dress shoes this week. Since I have been working and leading online worship from home, I haven’t had many occasions to put on socks and shoes in quite a while. My happy toes have grown accustomed to spreading out in the wide footbed of my sandals and were confused by the sudden constricting apparatus which enveloped them on this dress shoe day.
I don’t know what I thought would happen physiologically from wearing sandals for the last three months, but when my feet were all wrapped up on a hot summer day, they felt claustrophobic. Is that possible? It was as if the bones, cartilage, and muscles were longing for their newfound freedom.
I’ve been thinking about feet this summer. Everywhere I look, people are on the move. I’ve noticed a rapid rise of evening walkers in our neighborhood. I’ve ventured with my family to several area bike paths and witnessed runners and bikers exercising, connecting, and relaxing as the sun sets on another day. I’ve watched people march in peaceful demonstrations around the globe and celebrated those who continue to walk and run 5Ks to support their favorite cause. Each is going somewhere. One step at a time, they are in motion.
The Rev. Michael B. Curry, Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal church, tells a powerful story about holy feet in his book, Crazy Christians: A Call to Follow Jesus.
A few days before I was consecrated bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of North Carolina in June 2000, a group of pilgrims left Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Greensboro, North Carolina, to walk almost 60 miles to Duke Chapel in Durham…They walked the highways and the back roads in prayer and reflection and witness as the diocese prepared to welcome me as their bishop. Little did I realize at the time that their spiritual pilgrimage would prove to be a parable of who we are as disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ.
As they walked, they walked in the steps of Chaucer’s Canterbury pilgrims…They walked in the steps of Mahatma Gandhi’s Salt March to the Indian Ocean. They walked in the steps of those who marched across Selma’s Edmund Pettis Bridge in 1965. Above all, they walked in the steps of Jesus of Nazareth, who summons disciples of every generation with the words, ‘Follow me.’ Their pilgrimage was part of other pilgrimages of the past, because in their walking they showed that discipleship is really about what you do with your feet.
Take a look at your feet. Where have they carried you? How have they led you throughout life? Give thanks for those places and occasions. Now, consider what you are doing with your feet. Where are you headed? Are they leading you into new territory? Are there unknown paths you’ve discovered or wish to explore?
Frederick Buechner believes that our feet can give us some good information about ourselves and our priorities. “I say if you want to know who you are… you could do a lot worse than look at your feet for an answer. When you wake up in the morning, called by God to be a self again, if you want to know who you are, watch your feet. Because where your feet take you, that is who you are” (The Alphabet of Grace, pp. 24-25).
In the coming weeks, we’ll be talking about where we are headed as Lord of Life this year. Which are the well-worn paths we’ll follow and which are the new trails to discover or create? As you can imagine, the protocols and uncertainty of the coronavirus have us re-imagining our shared ministry life, but we continue to seek faithful ways to worship, serve, and learn together as we follow the way of Jesus.
On the road again,
Pastor Lowell
When I was just starting out in the workforce, I attended a lecture by one of Procter & Gamble’s nationally recognized female executives on the topic of work-life balance. She shared a lot of good information, but one thing she said stuck with me. In discussing working moms vs stay-at-home moms vs. part-time moms, and daycare vs. nannies vs. babysitters, she said that we need to support each other, and recognize that whatever situation is right for your family, it didn’t mean that others who made a different choice were wrong.
I’ve had the same concept presented to me again and again in different formats. In a class on conflict resolution and negotiation, I was encouraged to borrow a technique taught to improvisational actors called “Yes, and.” The idea being that to keep a conversation flowing, be it a comedy sketch or a work negotiation, you respond to the other person’s idea first with an affirmation: “yes,” then you build on it with “and.”
This idea of supporting each other’s choices is always a good one, but especially appropriate now when many folks are faced with situations with no clear right answer for anyone. Many of us are wrestling with choices about educating our children during this COVID-19 pandemic. More than one friend has posted a graphic on Facebook with the message that whatever education option you choose, you are a good parent for making the best choice for your kids, and I support you in making that tough choice. What a terrific affirmation when one is struggling to balance learning, socialization, and health and safety!
Now, I’m not saying there aren’t bad choices. We know there are bad choices and we’ve all made them. The apostle Paul talks about our common struggle with sin: “I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” (Romans 7:15). But we’ve been freed of the stain of those bad choices through God’s grace and Jesus’ resurrection. Let’s share that freedom and the peace that comes with it with those around us who need some support and affirmation.
In a recent session of our Summer Study on Race, we discussed the film Just Mercy, about the life of Bryan Stevenson, who has dedicated decades to the release of those wrongly incarcerated. Many of us involved in the discussion expressed that we’re no Bryan Stevenson -- we aren’t called to serve in that way. Especially in these days when so many of our traditional ways of serving and giving are unavailable, many felt adrift.
During these uncertain and anxious days, one thing we can all do is encourage and pray for one another. Share some words of appreciation with all of those essential workers helping you keep your family fed, safe, and educated. Take an extra moment to connect with colleagues as they navigate the pros and cons of returning to the office or working from home. Comment on a post to share some words of encouragement to someone who needs it. And be gentle with yourself as you navigate all of the choices to be made in these singular times. Know that there are moms, dads, friends, kids, and a loving God who are in your corner cheering you on!
You got this,
Cara
Each time I’m at my mom’s house, there’s a little book that I like to pick up and read. 500 Things Your Minister Tried To Tell You… But The Guy Sitting Next To You Was Snoring So Loud You Couldn’t Hear is a little book filled with churchy sayings, motivational Bible verses, and profound theological one liners. A real page turner!
On a recent visit, I cracked it open and was stunned by the message from Mildred Bangs Wynkoop for me – for us – at this season of coronavirus and global unrest.
“Every generation needs to rethink, restate, and creatively apply its theological heritage to its own situation. In this way the heritage stays vital and relevant.”
Wynkoop, an educator, pastor, missionary in Japan, and seminary professor in the Church of the Nazarene tradition, knew the importance of ongoing assessment and clarification. She spent her life interpreting and translating her faith tradition for new generations. She knew that only dwelling in the past, with no consideration of context and a changing culture, would see the rapid evaporation of her heritage.
As Lutheran Christians, we have a powerful theological heritage and worldview. Grounded in the Bible, we were birthed out of the protests in the 1500s, as Martin Luther prioritized God’s love and God’s action as primary in the Story of salvation. We are saved by grace through faith. It is a gift of God (Ephesians 2:8).
We embrace the mysteries of God that dwell in paradox, recognizing that we are both saint and sinner at the same time. God’s Word is law and gospel at the same time. We live in two kingdoms – a kingdom of God and a kingdom of humanity – at the same time. By the grace of God we live as free people, yet we are bound to serve – at the same time. We believe that God is still speaking, working, and dwelling among us through the power of the Holy Spirit.
This way of thinking and living positions us well for this season of COVID-19 life when we’re asking ourselves complex questions, “What is essential? What is risky? What are our priorities? How do we need to live differently? How do I celebrate my civil liberties and still care for those around me?” Our Lutheran Christian perspective and voice is crucial during these days of uncertainty.
In our most recent Let’s Talk About Race discussion, we digested the autobiographical film about Bryan Stevenson, “Just Mercy.” Several who participated shared how their mind is changing and their behaviors are adapting as they come to grips with the racism embedded in their own lives and our culture. Still grounded in their lives of faith, they are making shifts as the Spirit of God leads them into a new era.
One of the Bible verses we pivoted around was Micah 6:8:
“God has shown you, O mortal, what is good.
And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.”
I’m grateful that Holy Scripture tells us that not only does God require these things of us, but that they are GOOD! Justice is good. Mercy is good. Humility and kindness and compassion are good. We know this, but we so often forget.
Let this be a reminder. We are called to love and care for our neighbors near and far. What this looks like may shift from generation to generation or even from week to week. Right now, in Southern Ohio, put on the mask, physically distance, wash your hands, and continue to pray. These are some of the ways that God’s love spills out into the world.
Still working on loving my neighbor,
Pastor Lowell
Since the beginning of my journey to the “pastorate,” I have always looked forward to and have been scared of internship. Internship is exciting in that I begin full-time fieldwork into what I love and feel called to. However, these two years of serving and learning are scary due to the responsibility and expectations, but mostly because of change. Change is scary, and I became familiar with change as something to fear in the weeks leading up to moving to West Chester, OH.
When impatiently waiting for my absentee ballot to arrive in the mail, I realized that I may be filling out my last ballot as a Kentuckian. In this realization, I felt as if part of my identity was soon to be chipped away. Grappling with moving north of the Ohio River, I did not only worry about my Kentucky identity, but also worried about leaving friends, family, my church, and my significant other Justin. I had to prepare to adjust to a new normal just as a repotted plant has to get used to new soil.
Though I am still a Kentuckian, friends and family are only two hours away, and my partner will frequently visit since he is able to work from home during the pandemic, the anxiety remains. Though I am anxious, I know that “home” is an ever-developing word. Our understanding of what home is for ourselves never stays the same for a long period of time. Sometimes, home is a place, like the great commonwealth of Kentucky. Though I haven’t lived with my parents in years, they’re home and their house is still home - though in a different way, prior to moving out. As my relationship has developed, Justin is now home.
I did not reconstruct my family and parents’ house as home without moving out. I did not discover Justin as home without taking a leap into dating. And now, I am taking a leap to discover home as West Chester, OH and Lord of Life Lutheran Church. Though change is scary, small and large leaps can reap bountiful harvest.
We know this to be true by the leaps of Jesus’ followers when they first decided to make Jesus their home, whether it was Simon Peter and Andrew leaving their nets to follow him, the bold unnamed woman entering a Pharisees’ house to anoint Jesus’ feet, or Matthew leaving the tax collector’s booth to a life he did not yet know.
I find rest in knowing that Jesus is always home, and I take comfort in the truths of the gospel, one of them being that courageous leaps and vulnerability are necessary in finding home like Jesus - security, comfort, joy. In this knowledge, I am still anxious, but I look forward to discovering home as Lord of Life Lutheran and West Chester, OH.
From home,
Alec Brock (he, him, his)