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)

Thanks to all who made this year’s VBS happen! This year's theme "On Earth as in Heaven" invited us to pray for God's transformation of the world - and say “Yes” to God's invitation to be part of it!

Each day focused on a goal for ensuring a sustainable future for everyone, including hunger issues, good health, gender equality, education, and peace.

Here are a few quotes from families who participated:

Thank you so much to everyone who put their time and effort into moving VBS online. It was AWESOME! As a parent, I loved how easy it was to navigate through the videos each day. By dividing them up, it helped to take breaks and come back, since not everyone has the same attention span.

My daughter attends LOLCP. She is an only child and really missed her classmates this spring. So when I told her what VBS was, she was very excited. She especially loved the flags for each country or state, singing along with the music, and all of the crafts. We had nice conversations about helping others, being kind, praying for others, and about everyone and everything being connected as One through God.

Kudos to the entire Lord of Life Team and thank you for brightening our summer!

Thanks! Nicole

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We absolutely love the virtual VBS this year! Sometimes, we did VBS after dinner as our family game night! We saved some crafts, science, recipes, and games for a later date, so we can stretch them out for a couple weeks.

We utilized all of the activities into school learning too. My son is going into the second grade and needs a lot of writing practice. My son now knows the Lord’s Prayer by heart and has started writing it on his own.

His grandmother is in the hospital, so he used the Lord’s Prayer bracelet to give her as a gift! He said it was an example of “on earth as it is in heaven.”

Christine

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VBS was amazing!!! The kids have been singing the songs non-stop. We have been doing all the crafts and science experiments as a family each night. It has been so great! Our daughter was so proud of herself to not only know all of the words to The Lord’s Prayer, but to also know what the prayer means.

Thank you so much for having virtual camp, it was above and beyond what we expected! The kids are so sad it is over.

Laura

*WARNING - THIS BLOG IS ABOUT AS HAPPY AS THE FIRST 10 MINUTES OF A DISNEY MOVIE. PROCEED WITH CAUTION*

Spring and summer in my backyard means a lot of things: days lounging on the patio in front of a big movie screen and fire pit; several garden beds with blooming perennials and seedling volunteers; the satisfying smell of the earth as I dig up weeds and plant new flowers; and more wildlife than I could usually see walking through the woods. We have chipmunks, rabbits, squirrels, more species of birds than I can count (including woodpeckers that have put a pretty big dent in my shed), and a family of deer that has, for the last 6 years, given birth to a new generation of fawns in our bushes each spring.

Each year our deer have gotten more comfortable in our yard, and this year they have confidently roamed around, grazing and nursing while we have been back there working. We have felt particularly special when doe and fawn have come back, nursed, and then the doe has left the fawn with us, giving us a glance as she leaves the yard as if to say, "Hey I'm going to run some errands, could you watch him for a bit?" We've been able to walk right up to him and take pictures and I love going back and looking at the development of this wobbly, scrawny fawn who could barely open his eyes, to this bright-eyed, attentive creature who can already leap a 4-foot fence after just a few short weeks of life.

A few days ago I was on my way home from church and just as I was about to turn on to my own street, I saw my sweet fawn across the street, headed toward my yard. I was horrified as I watched it bound into traffic and I was crushed as I saw him tossed across the hood of an oncoming car. I parked my car and then walked up the street to see if there was any hope to be found. By the time I got close to the scene, several cars had stopped, including the woman who had hit him. As I approached, he managed to stand up and he slowly made his way through my neighbor's yard to my fence with a noticeably broken leg and a bloody nose. I've spent a lot of time with wildlife, and even though he was still alert and moving around, I knew there were no guarantees for his long-term survival. 

More immediately, though, there was now a crowd gathered on my street. I'm sure they all wanted to have a part in helping, but I really wanted to handle him without a group of well-intentioned strangers. While I assured the onlookers that my veterinarian was right down the street and convinced them I would do what I could to get him there, the woman whose car had hit him stood there, tears streaming down her face, quiet sobs escaping her lungs. I wanted to grieve on my own. I was angry. I was devastated. Had she been paying attention? Was she going too fast? I didn't know. There was no way I could possibly re-live the situation through her eyes. I couldn't begin to estimate what she had gone through in that moment.

So ... there was nothing to be gained by spreading my own grief and anger to her. Instead, in a moment of clarity and calm, I decided to stand with her and reassure her. I didn't know if there was anything she could have done differently, but I told her there was nothing she could have done. I didn't know if he would survive, but I told her that he seemed ok and that he had a safe place to be in my backyard. I didn't know if I would be able to catch or contain him to get him medical attention, but I assured her that I would and that he would get the care he needed. There was nothing comforting to me about my own words, but there was no reason to send her away with her own grief when it was so easy for me to ease it by spending a few extra moments with her.

The fawn left my yard with his mother and I don't know how he has done over the last few days. I've been watching and ready to fulfill my promises of help if I could, but I know nature will take its course. I've been thinking a lot about my interactions with people and how often I'm confronted with the choice to either spread my own grief and anger about things or find a way to provide comfort in a situation. How often does a post on social media get my blood-pressure boiling and I could reply with a vicious and brilliantly cutting attack on the person who posted, or I could find some words to redirect the conversation and try to show that there is common ground. I don't have most of the answers (even though sometimes I like to think I do). But I always have a choice with my words and what I choose to put out in the world.

Over the past few months I feel like I have been spending a lot of time looking in the rear view mirror. I have been looking back on all of the amazing experiences that I have had at Lord of Life as your intern for the past two years because what is ahead is frankly scary and unknown. Will I get a call as a pastor? Will the congregation embrace me and my family the same way you all have? What will church look like at this new congregation amid all of the COVID-19 concerns? Who will record ridiculous children’s sermons with me? Looking forward is scary because we don’t know what to expect. So we look into the rear view mirror to see all of the good, comforting memories that bring us security, peace, and joy. It is so much easier to wish for what has been, rather than to venture out into the unknown.

I am reminded of the story of the Israelites after they are released and then escape from Pharaoh (Exodus 16). The Israelites were formerly slaves to the Pharaoh and lived under harsh conditions from which they prayed and groaned loudly for God (Yahweh) to rescue them. Once they made it out of Pharaoh’s grasp they were told that Moses would deliver them to their promised land, filled with milk and honey and all of the good things they never had. But if you know the story, after roaming around in the wilderness for a while, surviving on only bits of manna that God provided each day, the Israelites started to look into their rear view mirror. They told Moses that they wish they had never left Pharaoh because of how good they had it there compared to where they were now. Looking forward into the unknown, even with the promise of something great in the future, was still scarier than looking back into the past and wishing for “the good ole days.”

In my own rear view mirror I have been thinking about all of the amazing experiences I have had at Lord of Life, too many to list. Each memory brings a smile to my face and I long for those days to return. But sometimes the rear view mirror plays tricks on us. What is shown in the mirror is not actual reality. In fact, most rear view mirrors even give a warning, “objects in mirror are closer than they appear.” Most often, when we look to the past, we only focus on the good things and forget about the hard times. So of course, it seems like things were better back then when we selectively take out the difficult or traumatic events that occurred during that same time. But, I would argue, those sad times have had just as much of a formational impact on us as the good times and we shouldn’t neglect to remember those as well. 

So where am I going with all of this? Lord of Life is moving forward. It is moving forward without me as a pastoral presence. It is moving forward with welcoming a new set of gifts and talents in Intern Alec. It is moving forward by carefully trying to find safe ways for us to worship in person again. It is becoming something new, but is not giving up all of the memories that have brought us to this point. We cannot be scared of the new future of our congregation because God is calling us boldly into that new territory. When times are rough, like they are now, we should also not be too quick to want to rush back to the old ways of doing things, because like Pharaoh, they could present regression disguised as comfort. So keep those memories from the rear view mirror near and dear to your heart, but let’s also keep our eyes on the road ahead of us as we seek to “live, share, and celebrate, with all people, God’s love in Jesus Christ” in new and exciting ways.

Always with you in the rear view,

Pastor Corey

This reflection by Lily Wu was written a few weeks ago, prior to the murder of George Floyd. While we are heartened to see that the egregious racism against the Black Community has finally drawn national attention and scrutiny, we acknowledge that racism still exists against all people of color.  

Editor’s note: COVID-19 has uniquely impacted communities of color and their lives and ministries. In this series, we will feature ELCA Racial Justice reflections from each of the ELCA Ethnic Specific and Multicultural Ministries associations, focusing on racism and racial disparities amid the coronavirus.

In the heated battle of humanity versus COVID-19, the Zoom app is booming. People want to see and be seen. It’s a big learning curve for many—but free and open to everyone!

Indeed, being seen, and even loved, is one of life’s deepest joys. Conversely, not being seen, yet being hated, is a heavy stressor.

The surge of hate crimes against Asians in the United States shows that many people doubt Asian Americans as neighbors, friends and fellow citizens. No matter who we are, if we have a “Chinese” face, our personal safety and well-being are at risk—not only from coronavirus but from coronavirus rage.

The Asian Pacific Policy & Planning Council reported that two-thirds of those attacked are not even Chinese but of other Asian ethnicities. Spitting, verbal abuse, harassment, bullying, beatings. A 6-year-old boy was stabbed in the head and required stitches. Women are three times more likely to be harassed than men. One woman suffered severe chemical burns when a man deliberately threw acid at her.

I’ve been confronted and assaulted before. U.S. history and my own history tell me that living in my own city, my own country, is seriously dangerous. Now it is even worse.

My heart sank when elected leaders used such racist terms as “kung flu” and “Chinese virus.”

Their ill-chosen words set up Asian Americans to be mocked and blamed. Angry people may choose at any time to lash out at us. Anyone targeted for violence knows what I mean. It feels as if just being out in public will mean having to run a gauntlet.

Meanwhile, the Asian American community is very diverse: culturally, geographically, socioeconomically. Some may say we have never experienced racism. But many will confirm the pain it causes when it does strike.

Please help to spread the word that people who “look Chinese” are not the virus. We are not COVID-19 carriers just because we are Asian. We are not the enemy. We are Asian Americans, trying to “flatten the curve” like mostly everybody else.

It’s ghastly how many people have died so suddenly in Queens, N.Y. A dozen tractor-trailer-sized trucks—mobile morgues—were parked outside Elmhurst Hospital to store the bodies of the dead. I used to live in this immigrant enclave area of Queens, one of the most diverse counties in the United States. I loved the vibrant Chinese and Latino life there. Now it’s shut down, and the people are reeling.

My church is located there. Eight blocks from the hospital, St. Jacobus Lutheran Church offers one of only two food pantries still open in Elmhurst, serving 100 to 300 families per week. There are more young families now, many of whom are Latino.

For many of these families, there are two or three generations living in an apartment, with no work to be had. Available resources do not match the needs. “The virus has exposed what’s been there all along,” said Joe Mantovani, pastor of St. Jacobus. “How high the rents are. How hard it is to find enough work to feed their families.”

Many Asian American families citywide are also at risk of starvation and homelessness, reported the Coalition for Asian American Children & Families. They are among the Americans of all backgrounds who work for low wages and tips with no safety net. The struggle is fierce for too many, including African Americans dying in high numbers.

We are trying, as New York Governor Andrew Cuomo urges, to be “tough, smart, disciplined, united and loving.” I know my resilience can happen only in a collective. Every day I give God thanks for my husband, my family, my friends, my pastor and the caring people I don’t know who work for peace and justice.

All of us in the United States have a long way to go—some much further than others. If we look to see the good in others, honor each other’s humanity and work against poverty, despair and racism, we will make great strides for a better future for all.

I wish every Zoom user knew that a Chinese American, Eric Yuan, created the app. It’s just one example of what Asian Americans can contribute to the United States and to the world. I pray that more of us will “Zoom together for racial justice,” whether literally or not. “Join the Zoom meeting,” I’d invite. “I’ll bring Chinese food, you bring whatever you like and we’ll share.”

It could be a big learning curve at first. But with God as our host, we cannot fail. Free and open to everyone!

Lily R. Wu
Lily R. Wu is a Chinese American Lutheran who has worked as a church communicator for more than 40 years. She also served as vice president of the ELCA Association of Asians and Pacific Islanders.

Reproduced with permission from Living Lutheran magazine.