After three years of planning and countless meetings and logistics, the ELCA National Youth Gathering kicked off in Houston this week.

As more than 30,000 teens and adults converged on the NRG Stadium on Wednesday night, it wasn’t the dazzling lights or enthralling pyrotechnics that excited us - well, maybe a little. And it wasn’t the two hours of speakers and musicians from around the world who shared stories of faith with us, either, although that was powerful, too. Instead, it was the people-to-people connections which were already giving us insight into the beautiful and diverse body of Christ. 

When our bus broke down on the north side of Nashville, the bus drivers took us to the movies to help pass the five hour delay.

When two buses full of sleepy teens invaded the truckstop in a small Texas town, all we experienced were smiles and warm Lone Star state greetings. The hospitality was contagious.

Wearing our matching shirts and trying to understand the map, a life-long Houstonian struck up a conversation with us on the light rail and, after answering some of our questions about mass transit, went on to tell us about her love for this great city.

Presence. Presence is a present. We are gifts to each other. God designed us this way.

“You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8)

Isn’t it a delight, when we head out to serve and love people, and end up being enveloped by the Spirit of God which is loose in the world? We have no idea what is in store this week in Houston, but we know that God was here long before we came, and will meet us in all sorts of amazing places and people. 

Thank you again for making this trip possible. This time is life-changing for each of us. 

Peace.

Pastor Lowell

As a church family, it is difficult to discern what is hospitable behavior versus what is safe behavior. As we go through life following Jesus, we reach out to shake the hands of sinners just as often as we shake the hands of saints. They are the same hands, attached to the same people, just at different moments.

“Stranger danger” is a laughable concept for a church kid. Jesus leads us to welcome the stranger. We offer him food, give her fuel for her car, and open the door and our arms in welcome. We would never turn away the stranger, nor run from or even fear them, because we know what it is to be the outcast, reject, and underdog. In many places around the world, and often in our own streets, hallways and meetings, those are just other names for disciple.

We host a lot of visitors. Our children have been playing musical rooms with our house guests ever since they can remember. In their version of rolling out the red carpet, they dust and polish and set out favorite books and toys in preparation. They hang personalized welcome signs on their bulletin boards and turn on a night light in the dark. We may not have much to share, but we share what we have. Some of our visitors are family, some are friends, many others are our guests because they are friends of friends, passing through. We know no stranger, because we look past our differences to find the roots of what we share—we seek Jesus in each other.

Hospitality often circles back to the table for us. We greet and meet over meals. We pour the tea and pass the biscuits. We lean together in discussion and nod our heads in understanding. We reminisce with laughter, and sometimes with tears. The table between us is not much different than the communion altar, where Jesus calls us to gather as a family, to eat, drink and remember.

Mi casa es su casa. We share a home in this planet. We share a Father in God. We are each the sinner and the saint, the stranger and the friend, seeking a table to share, bread to break and a companion for the journey.

Written by Tera Michelson for The Values Project, a year-long initiative designed to equip families to raise children who thrive emotionally, socially, and spiritually. You can read other blogs at

http://blog.beamingbooks.com/mi-casa-es-su-casa/#.Wyu0z6kh0Wp.

God says,
    I will pour out my Spirit on all people.
Your sons and daughters will prophesy,
    your young men will see visions,
    your old men will dream dreams.                                                        Acts 2:17

I love the story of Pentecost.  The image of the disciples, gathered together, filled with uncertainty, resonates with me.  They have this amazing knowledge, that Jesus is the real deal, the son of God who rose from the dead to save us all. They’ve seen him heal, and forgive, and embrace those who were shunned by everyone else. But what do they do about it? Telling others about this good news could open them up to derision, or cause them to be cast out by their community. But then, the Holy Spirit comes, and they are filled with hope and purpose, equipped to carry on His work. So often, I feel like the disciples. I know Jesus is the real deal, but how do I share the good news, especially with folks who don’t speak my language?

For a start, I put myself in the same situation as the disciples. Okay, okay, so not exactly the same situation: I wasn’t hiding out in an upper room, hoping that the community leaders or the military wouldn’t roust me out and crucify me.  I was in the church library, with snacks and air conditioning (but we did have hummus). Our Ministry Area Coordinators (MACs) gathered, as they do every month.  In the summer, the focus is on dreaming dreams: how can we, as well-fed, English-speaking, educated white people ‘speak the language’ of those who need us to  embrace them with the Good News?

Well, the Holy Spirit was with us, too. The ideas that poured out for the coming year: to teach, to feed, to reach out – are creative, and exciting, and sometimes scary.  We don’t know how to get it all done. But we know we are called to start, and we will be equipped with the right words when we need them, and we’ll move forward together. 

Over the coming weeks, the MACs will continue to plan, and organize, and create new programs. You’ll see the church calendar and the announcements fill with opportunities to live, and share, and celebrate with all people, God’s love in Jesus Christ. These opportunities were first imagined as some disciples gathered together, filled with the Holy Spirit, who dared them to dream dreams. Whether you are looking for your first opportunity to get involved, or feeling called to step into a leadership role, or you’ve dreamed up a new idea you want to share, there’s a place for everyone. Join us! 

Filled with the Holy Spirit,

Cara

"Measure twice, cut thrice!" That's the motto in my house. If you've ever asked me what I've been up to outside of work, I've probably said something like, "oh, just working on my bathroom." It has been a home improvement project that has lasted three years this Summer. I have an entire Facebook photo album devoted to it called "who needs a bathroom anyway?" which I haven't even updated in a year because if I add more photos, it will just remind people that I haven't finished yet. 

The truth is, I have no idea what I'm doing. I know what I want it to look like and what materials I want to use, but I'm learning all the skills as I go by watching Youtube videos and reading the instructions that come with the parts. One of the reasons it has taken so long is that as I move on to another part of the project, I realize I need yet another tool. Or I get to a corner and realize I need to so something different to make the edges line up nicely. But the worst thing I do is get in a hurry and measure wrong. Sometimes that even leads to tearing out an entire ceiling that I had just recently installed ... but that is a whole story of its own. The bottom line is, I wasted time and resources on a do-over.

I don't think I'm alone in saying the same kinds of mistakes happen in other aspects of my life, too. Sometimes I rush to speak and end up saying something wrong or hurtful. Sometimes I don't live up to a promise I've made. Often I get angry about something that really isn't in my control or isn't nearly as bad as I've allowed it to be in my head. Like the bathroom, I end up using time and emotional resources trying to make up for thoughtless mistakes.

Luckily, the unlimited resource we have available to us is God's grace and forgiveness. In the Gospels we read about the disciple, Peter, who promises to stay with Jesus and then goes on to deny him three times. As you read the story in John 18:15-27, you might feel like Peter has made the mistake of a lifetime. How could Jesus possibly forgive him for this?

Instead of casting Peter out, in John 21:15-17 Jesus builds Peter's confidence and prepares him to go out into the world and be the new church. This is what God does for us every Sunday in worship and what we are called to do for each other as we go out into the world, being God's hands and feet.

I've made a lot of mistakes working on my house, but each time I do, I learn something new, develop another skill, and move on to be better at it. Maybe the next project won't take as long.

When we make mistakes in our lives, we can take those opportunities to learn, to be more mindful, to get better at thinking before we speak or act. Maybe in our next difficult situation, our response will be better. Our do-overs might still take extra time and emotional resources, but we never have to worry about running out of God's grace.

If only I had an unlimited supply of drywall ...

Nsanya Otis Kapya suffered major head injuries in a car crash on April 15, 2012. He wasn’t in his native land of Tanzania, but was working in Nairobi, Kenya. A few days later, he died there in the Intensive Care Unit. Although he was twelve hours from home, he wasn’t alone.  Not only was he surrounded by medical staff who were attending to him with compassionate care and family who had traveled to be at his side, but the same love and breath of God that pulses in and out of your lungs as you read these words surrounded him in his final earthly moments.

A few weeks later on the other side of the world, two dozen of us gathered to celebrate his life in the sanctuary of Reformation Lutheran in Wichita where I was serving. Otis was a cousin and nephew to some of our African members.

The Christian funeral and memorial service do powerful things. Whether held in a church sanctuary, the chapel at the funeral home, or standing graveside in the cemetery, this ancient ritual crosses time and space to name our need and hear words of reassurance grounded in the enduring promises of God.

In the opening words of his memorial service, we announced, “We are gathered this day to remember before God our brother, to give thanks for his long and full life, and to commend him to our merciful redeemer. In our baptism, God claims us and promises that nothing can separate us from the love of God – not even death. We also gather to proclaim Christ crucified and risen and to comfort one another in our grief.”

Re-membering. Isn’t this what happens each time we are gathered for worship? God draws us from our many places of living and working, literally reassembling us as the body of Christ. If we are on vacation in a seaside town or on a business trip in a bustling urban center on another continent, these moments of Christian worship gather us, feed us with the Word and meal of God, and then send us out as agents of hope.

God is busy with the business of re-membering us on other days, too. From our fragile lives, fractured by the impact of sin, we are daily being re-membered as our loving Creator puts the broken pieces together again.

If you recall the children’s rhyme, Humpty Dumpty, “all the King's horses and all the King's men couldn't put Humpty together again.” What a sad end to the shattered life – no hope of being put back together. But as followers of Jesus, we believe otherwise. Thanks to Pastor Bill Yonker for the bold declaration that “all the King's horses and all the King's men couldn't put Humpty together again... but the King can! The King of kings knows how to do it!”

This bold declaration makes it possible for us to sing with hope on a day of sorrow and loss. With the opening lines of “Shall We Gather at the River” on our lips at Nsanya’s memorial service, we weren’t thinking about the shoreline of the Arkansas River that winds through the south central plains of Kansas or the Rufiji River pushing east through Tanzania and into the Indian Ocean. No! Instead, we were celebrating that Living Water that provides healing and life, recreation and renewal, nourishment and promise – the River of God where we are re-membered.

It was beautiful the way the Christian community around the world came together to celebrate Nsanya’s life and grieve his death. As we stood engulfed in the resurrection promises of God, we couldn’t deny the reality that in our living and dying, we are not alone. 

Meet you at the water’s edge,

Pastor Lowell

Rev. Elizabeth A. Eaton, presiding bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America

During a recent chapel service at the Lutheran Center, Rafael Malpica Padilla, executive director for Global Mission, shared his favorite Bible verse with us: “Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end” (John 13:1).

Jesus was in Jerusalem in the upper room praying with his disciples, modeling selfless service as he washed their feet, and preparing them for his glorification that would take place on the cross.

“He loved them to the end.” To his bitter end on the cross, but to the end of so much more—to the end of the deadly grip of sin, to the end of everything that would try to mar the image of God borne by every human being, to the end of death.

And Jesus loved them, 12 flesh and blood human beings who carried all the “stuff” people carry—passion and humor and courage, fear and doubt, the need to be seen and affirmed, great faith and quaking uncertainty. Jesus did not love the concept of disciples or the theory of people— Jesus loved them, Jesus loves us.

Jesus loved. How does one describe that? At my cousin’s wedding, the priest noted in his sermon that human language is too small for God. All the poetry in the world can’t express the love for one’s beloved or for a new baby or for family. All of the hymns ever written or sung can’t convey the love we have for God. Neither can words convey how much God loves us. It’s almost incomprehensible how much we are loved by God. It is too much to take in. But it is true.

This is the message that the Lutheran movement still has to speak to the rest of the world. God loves us. God means well for us and for the world. God’s love is deep and constant. And God’s love is not sentimental. The Incarnation was not a whim. Emmanuel, God with us, was a deliberate immersion into human brokenness in order to bring about healing and wholeness. “For while we were still weak … while we still were sinners … while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son …” (Romans 5:6-10).

The Lutheran movement presents an alternative face of Christianity to the world. Too often the image of Christianity seen in popular culture is of a judgmental transactional God demanding perfection from an imperfect people, a people who, in desperation, work harder and harder to save themselves. Rules for purity are erected—pure theology and pure morality. Stark lines are drawn defining who is in and who is out. Faith becomes work. Righteousness is our righteousness achieved by ourselves.

Grace—God’s love freely given—is God’s work. It is not our doing. It is a gift. It is freedom. This is not for a minute to deny the truth of our sinfulness or that God does judge us and finds us falling seriously short. Grace doesn’t give us a free pass, nor does grace gloss over the reality of suffering and evil in the world. This grace, this freedom, makes it possible for us to realize the love of God in Christ in the world and in our own lives. And no human can set bounds on God’s grace.

Jesus loves his own and loves us to the end. Jesus doesn’t expect us to do the same—Jesus makes it possible for us to do the same. Therefore, we have nothing to fear and nothing to lose when we reject the notion of racial supremacy, when we welcome the stranger, when we confess that God alone is first. We can tell that story.

Rev. Elizabeth A. Eaton,

Presiding Bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America

You can read a monthly message from Bishop Eaton at www.livinglutheran.org.