Mouthwatering baby back rips, oozing deep-dish pizza, and screaming hot homemade chili. My dad is a wizard in the kitchen. Professionally, and somewhat ironically, my dad is a High School health teacher, but every day when that last bell rings he begins his true craft. After school, he makes his daily run to Kroger, collecting all the ingredients for the masterpiece to be created that evening.

Growing up with a parent that loves to cook was a pretty sweet setup. Every evening, just a few minutes before dinner was actually done, he would shout to the top of his lungs, “Dinnnnner!” My mom was typically running my siblings around to either practice or a friend’s house. But still, even if my dad knew I was the only other person home, he would still shout with all he had, “Dinnnnner!” It was so loud that it would have been no surprise to see the neighbors come over for some tasty grub. However, as a bratty teen, I found this shouting to be so annoying. I would mutter under my breath every time, “Dad, I am right here!” It’s only until now that I realize the beauty behind calling people in for a meal.

As the church, of course it’s important to feed those inside its walls, both physically and spiritually, but our mission to love and serve others extends beyond the church. Our mission reaches out in to our community and to the world. I hope you have heard about the upcoming capital campaign “Share the Light.” For me, this begs the question, “who are we sharing the light with?” The answer: everyone! We are sharing the light with those in the church, those in our local community, and even the world. I love that our multi-purpose expansion space will be placed right out front on Tylersville Road. It is as though we are shouting to the community “Dinnnner!” This is a place where people come to be feed.   

Even though my dad knew I was the only one home, even though he knew I was standing right beside him, still he shouted “Dinnnnner!” Back then, I didn’t understand that my dad wasn’t shouting for me. Instead, he was shouting to anyone who might be in ear shot. You simply never know who might hear you. Who actually makes it to dinner isn’t always the most important part about ministry. Its more about all people knowing that they are welcome. Living, sharing, and celebrating with all people is not negotiable or debatable. Rather, it defines us as followers of Christ.

Here at Lord at Life, people come to be fed and to be nourished, so that God can send us out to be agents of peace, hope, and love. As good as my dad’s cooking is, nothing compares to how we are fed through Christ. God calls us, God speaks to us, God feeds us, and God sends us out into the world. 

Join me in the shout!

Lucas McSurley

Several days each week, I wake early to drive a carpool of boys to the Freshman school. We leave with plenty of time to zip around, load up the car, and still arrive at the school by 6:45 am. For months, it has been so dark - pitch black. Even when I arrive back home and try to snuggle in for a few more winks, the sky still looks like it could be the middle of the night.

As I shuttle the boys around, various lights guide my way. Headlights on the car help me maneuver through the parked cars and twisty turns of the neighborhood. Streetlights and reflective signs lay out the path before me, as I jump onto some of the main area roads already bustling with morning traffic. Closer to the school, brightly painted road stripes and massive overhead lighting, as well as traffic signals, illuminate intersections and help create traffic patterns. I’m glad that everything is so well lit.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I like the nighttime. I enjoy darkness. An evening walk sometimes brings peace and clarity to my weary spirit. A darkened theater is better for viewing a concert or film. Sometimes, I even travel beyond the city lights in search for darkness for a better view of the stars. But the darkness in our lives, both literal and perceived, has the power to paralyze us with fear and anxiety about the unknown.

We have been spending time in the Gospel of John this Lenten season. One of the features of this gospel account is the presence of light imagery. Over and over, Jesus refers to himself as light and speaks to the realities that come with that brightness. He tells us that we won’t stumble, our vision will be transformed, and mobility will look different with the dominating light. Jesus says, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life,” (John 8). The Lord of Light doesn’t say that the darkness is gone, but promises that darkness will not dominate the landscape of our lives. The Light of Christ shines into every shadowed corner and cranny.

Daniel Erlander describes it this way: “We do not find God. God finds us – in our darkness, our pain, our emptiness, our loneliness, our weakness... [For us, this] is a new way of seeing... It is here, on the cross, that God meets us. Here God makes Godself present: hidden in weakness, vulnerable, suffering, forsaken, dying... As God meets us where we are, the Holy Spirit opens our eyes to see the Cross is God’s embrace – the Cross is God’s victory!”

This line of thinking is called Theology of the Cross. In the cross of Jesus, we see forgiveness, reconciliation, power, hope, life, unconditional love, and triumph. In the cross of Jesus, we are reminded that the goodness of God is stronger than any evil. In the cross of Jesus, God declares that death does not have the final word.

In recent days, when dropping off my carload of boys at the school in the early hours, I have noticed a slight glow on the horizon. I still haven’t seen the sun, but the promise of dawn is on the horizon.

Looking to the light!

Pastor Lowell

I grew up in the Roman Catholic church and every year during the season of Lent, conversation would swirl about what we were giving up. A lot of people gave up food items – chocolate, meat, soda. Adults might have given up things like alcohol or swearing.

As I grew in my faith education, I learned about giving up things that would help me make roomfor Christ in my life. I could give up an hour of television to study scripture or a book on a Christian topic. I could give up complaining and be a more positive person to be a better example of Christian love. These are still great ideas!

Now that I’ve been a church “professional” for several years, I’ve learned some history about our calendar and how the traditions of seasons like Lent and Advent came to be. Both Lent and Advent were seasons of fastingbefore major holidays. Lent is the 40 days (not counting Sundays) before Easter, and Advent is the 40 days before - you guessed it - Epiphany. If someone reminds me in December, I’ll write another whole post about why it isn’t Christmas. Historically speaking, these 40 day fasts were meant to temper our “worldly desires.”

But we treat the seasons of Advent and Lent very differently. During Advent, we mark off our calendars; in some traditions we go as far as opening little doors to reveal daily treats. What a contrast to the idea of fasting we think of for Lent. We spend the season of Advent anticipating the joy of Christmas. The tradition of fasting, while it gives us opportunities to open ourselves to Christ, can sometimes have the unintended consequence of drawing our focus to our own suffering.

So what if we thought of Lent more like Advent? The eager anticipation. The joy of preparing ourselves, not for new birth, but new life in the resurrection. As we watch the flowers coming back to life, we can be grateful that Christ’s resurrection means we can stand before God, free of our sin. Yes, we can still make room for God in our lives, and we can do it out of the joy gratitude that we have already been saved through Grace, not by our own deeds and suffering.

Share the Light.

You’ve seen our plans for our next steps and might be wondering, “What’s up with the chapel?” You are not alone. There have been many questions about that space. “Why do we need a chapel?” “What would we do with a chapel?” “Chapel... Huh?” 

Read more …

“Hey! What’s up? How are you doing?”

All too often, we ask these questions out of habit more than out of genuine concern for someone. We lob the inquiry out there without any intention of hearing a response. If we pose the question to a stranger on the sidewalk or an elevator, we only do so as a kind gesture. If we ask a friend, we don’t expect a thoughtful answer that might draw us into the real-life drama and trauma of their lives. It is more of a formality in the greeting moment. Before the question is even completely out of our mouths, we’ve already mentally moved on to something or somewhere else.

A few weeks ago, we started our senior high event by hanging a few giant pieces of paper on the wall. Across the top of each page, we wrote, “I am...” and asked each youth to complete the sentence however they wished. The honesty and vulnerability astounded me.

I am...  Anxious. Chocolatey. Confident. Confused. Content. Curious. Dead inside. Disappointed. Excited. Exhausted. Full. Happy. Hopeful. Joyful. Looking forward to something. Loved. Okay. Out of patience! Overwhelmed. Prepared. Pumped. Sore. Stressed. Taking deep breaths. Thinking about a lot of things. Tired. Unique. Excited. Worn Out. Weird. Wondering. Woman.

Right there in our Fellowship Hall, these teens were willing to scribble down the real-life answers to where they found themselves on a Sunday night, no matter whether they were chocolatey, looking forward to something, worn out, or dead inside. Imagine how many other feelings must have been swirling around in their hearts and spirits that they didn’t share with the community? If we listen after we initiate conversation, we can discover exuberant joys and deep sorrows. If we pay attention, others invite us into their lives and experiences.

This Lent, we’ll spend our Wednesday worship times exploring a series of “I am” statements which show up in the Gospel according to John. As Jesus reveals himself to others, he says, “I am the Bread of Life. I am the Light of the World. I am the Door. I am the Good Shepherd. I am the Resurrection and the Life.” What is Jesus trying to tell everyone within earshot about who he is? What might Jesus be saying to us? How do these metaphors invite us into a greater understanding of how God interacts with us and embraces us with an everlasting love?

We have God’s full attention. God asks us how we are doing and sticks around to listen to our response. In our moments of thrill and celebration, as well as our despair and lament, the Creator of the Universe is attentive to the pleas of our voice and heart.

Living in hope,

Pastor Lowell

Rain or shine, February or July, on any lazy Saturday morning, you could usually find my brother and I casting a line at the bottom of the spillway. There was a dam just down the road from where we lived. The spillway created a pool of water with a high concentration of fish. After their plummet down the spillway, the fish collected and began to pile up in the water on top of one another. Of course, this made for easy catch and release fishing, but at the time, my brother and I thought we were professional fishermen.

Oddly enough, the memories of the hours spent fishing at the spillway continued to go through my mind as I participated in a week-long intensive course at the Seminary called Theology in the City. We spent the majority of our time together visiting ministries that serve the most vulnerable of God’s children. We visited many homeless shelters, food pantries, and prisons, all of which were overcrowded and understaffed. One of the overarching themes that began to surface for me was how much I have taken my privacy for granted over the years. For the fish in the spillway, and for hard-living folks in our neighborhoods, privacy is an unfelt luxury.

The image of fish swimming on top of one another at the spillway was on replay as I observed the various ministries of the city. We visited places like J. Jireh Ministries, Van Buren Homeless Shelter, Columbus Dream Center, and the Mid-Ohio Foodbank. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off for me about the church’s role of serving those in need. Most often, the church spends its efforts on meeting immediate needs, and providing short-term solutions. Of course, we are called to feed the hungry and clothe the naked, but what might it look like if we spent some time deconstructing the spillway that created the overwhelming need to begin with? If not the church, then who? Who will fix broken systems in place that work to perpetuate economic oppression?

God is certainly at work when we provide a meal, a home, or even a cup of water. But God is also present when we standup for equality and demand a change to the status quo. God is at work when we engage our local government and voice our cry for compassionate action. When we take a holistic approach to our call to serve, God is revealed in new and transformative ways. God has provided a lake large enough for all of us to swim comfortably. The issues that we face do not stem from a shortage problem, but a distribution problem. We live and serve knowing that God will provide all that we need.

I invite you to lean into the liberation that the gospel offers. Free yourself to give holistically to the precious concerns that we hold dear to our hearts. Through this freedom, others will experience the fullness of God’s love. Soon, and very soon, “creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Romans 8:21). I will meet you at the spillway, and together, we will free the fish.

With a casted line,

Lucas McSurley

There are many opportunities this Lent to wrestle with questions of faith and justice. Consider being part of one of the book studies (listed in on our Events page) or attending one of the seminars (listed in the current Lifeline on page 7).