To most who meet him now, Davis Conrad is a typical 95-year-old man living at Bethany Lutheran Village in Dayton. For hundreds of people who worshiped with him, attended a concert at his church, or sang under his direction, he is a master of his trade; a member of an almost-lost generation of musicians who produced legendary music programs during a golden era of corporate worship. At Hope Lutheran Church, his retirement after decades of faithful service - coupled with changes to the surrounding neighborhood - led to the end of a once-storied music tradition.

It has been more than twenty years since he left. Through some Dayton friends I discovered that Hope was ready to part with its music library – hundreds of pieces of music that were sung joyfully on Sundays, Christmas, Easter, feast days, clergy installations, and bishop celebrations, including several that were commissioned especially for their esteemed choir. A gift to Lord of Life, if we would take it.

As I shared the news with some of our own choir members, I discovered connections to Hope Church that I never would have expected – Pastor Ed Williams spent a great deal of time at Hope when he was on the Synod staff; Pastor Bill Funk, who has been singing with us for two years, was an associate pastor at Hope for three years.

When I arrived to pick up the music, the secretary looked at my car and said, “you might have to make a few trips in that.” She wasn’t kidding. Seven filing cabinets, each with four drawers, full from front to back and a desk filled with music. What an amazing gift. Mr. Conrad’s notes on his copy of each piece – a lifetime of study, planning, practice, and teaching; a legacy from which to build.

I managed to empty six of the filing cabinets and the desk in one trip. I was so excited to bring it all home; I filled every nook and cranny. As I’ve gone through it all, I’m humbled to piece together the rich history contained among the pages. I’m sad there are so few people at Hope to share in that history, but it will live on through our own worship and offerings.

It will take me many weeks to sort through all of our new music. Once I have, I’ll invite anyone who would like to join us for a “sing through” – I’ll pick out some of my favorites and we’ll sing through them just to hear them for ourselves. Mark your calendars for Tuesday, April 10 at 7 pm!

With gratitude,

John

Fingers are crossed, eyes are glued to the bottom of the screen during the evening news, and you have already eaten your packed lunch in the fridge because you’re so confident that tomorrow will be a Snow Day. How exciting is a whole day to goof around as snow falls outside? Days of playing games in the snow and then cozying up close to the fire are the kind of winter days I longed for as a kid. Snow Days were the best!

While in high school, I had an amazing job on the weekends and throughout the summer working as a counselor for an outdoor camp. At this camp, we often served the youth from the urban core of Cincinnati. While the kids were with us in the outdoors, nearly everything they got to do at camp was a first-time experience. It was so transformative for me to witness these children see a deer for the first time, or to finally be able to see the Big Dipper in the night sky, or to play in and around a large pond. Prior to working at this camp, I had no idea that there were kids so close to my home that never experienced these basic joys that I experienced nearly every day.

One morning, I was leading a group of campers through the woods to the cafeteria for breakfast, I asked “what is your favorite thing to do on a Snow Day?” They took turns sharing as we all nodded in agreement for each response. Eventually, the only person left to give a response was the little boy holding my hand as we walked. I said to him directly, “what’s your favorite thing about a Snow Day?” There was a long silence until he finally said “I don’t like Snow Days, because there is no school that day, and that means I don’t get to eat that day.” My heart sank, and suddenly, I never desired a Snow Day in the same way again.

As temperatures drop, God’s most precious children grow colder while they’re forced to live outside. As winter months settle in, social services grow more crowded and more of God’s children battle with hunger. This year, I witnessed the Holy Spirit hard at work through Lord of Life as our guests from Family Promise called this place home during the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Family Promise is an inter-faith ministry that equips congregations to respond to local homelessness.

Our call to respond came during a week that most consider to be a “Snow Day.” In the midst of resting, playing games, and staying home, God filled our hearts and empowered us to serve others. Although play and rest are an important part of our lives, I am thankful that God is still at work on a Snow Day. God continues to show up day after day, season after season, snow fall after snow fall.

With a Serving Heart,

Lucas McSurley

“The mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song,

and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.” Isaiah 55:12

I never understood this phrase. Singing hills and clapping trees? I’ve heard the passage in worship for years and read it occasionally in my own devotional life. I’ve savored the beauty of creation from expansive vistas and lush valleys, but I’ve never witnessed trees clapping their hands, except for the creepy scene in The Wizard of Oz when the trees cheer and jeer and toss apples at Dorothy and her traveling companions.

On Christmas Eve, we read some similar words from Psalm 96, which describes all of creation raising their voices at the coming of the Lord. The Psalm culminates with a rejoicing earth, roaring seas, and “all the trees of the forest singing for joy” (v.11 ff.). For some reason, on that holy night, the words of the psalm writer began to make sense.

Maybe they began to make sense because of the howling wind that blew snow and knocked around trees, as well as rustled Christmas Eve clothes and hair. Maybe understanding carved a path in the ringing hand bells and singing voices, the flickering candles and sparkling lights. Maybe, faith and understanding connected through spoken Scripture and sung refrains telling of the night that Christ was born. Maybe, clarity came in the hot chocolate and coffee which flowed freely and the warm greetings and hugs of reunions, as friends and family connected.

Thankfully, our “Jesus Christ is born!” declarations weren’t only contained within the walls of sanctuaries and worship spaces. Outside, all creation joined in the birthday announcement, too. The glistening trees, falling snow, whipping wind, and hush of bedtime led us into Christmas morning and beyond. Did I hear some trees of the field clapping their hands?

This side of the Christmas and New Year celebrations, the rejoicing isn’t as easily found. The cleansing, white blanket of snow has turned to black slosh on roads and icy clumps clinging to our wheel wells. Garbage cans are overflowing, neighborhood curbside recyclers have extra cardboard packaging to pick-up, and the lifeless, naked Christmas trees are discarded as they wait to be hauled off. Inside, many of us have already packed up decorations and crammed lights and ornaments back into their nests for an 11-month nap. For some, the happy buzz of glad tidings have given way to the daily grind.

As we jump into the new year, creation won’t allow our exclamations to end. Christ is born and the world is changed! All creation, including us, is summoned to declare it. We continue to celebrate and look for renewal. We continue to cry out for justice and peace. We pray for those who are ill, lost, or alone. We work to care for the Earth and one another. Could it be that all creation cannot help but respond to the arrival of God coming among us?

The very end of the Psalms says as much: “Let everything that breathes praise the Lord! (Psalm 150:6).

Joy to the world!

Pastor Lowell

As we reflect on 2017, our gratitude overflows for the many 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.

As we enter our 30th year together as a community of 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.

The Lord of Life staff

(l to r) Paula Drake, Bob Burnette, Intern Lucas McSurley, Pastor Lowell, Donna Harvey, John Johns, Cara Hasselbeck (not pictured Pastora Carmen Brown and Lori Krach)

It is my favorite moment in Christmas worship in every church I’ve gone to. The lights dim, the music starts, everyone gets quiet, and the fire from the Christ candle on the Advent wreath spreads through the church as we pass the flame from candle to candle. Silent Night ...

It was another kind of silence that brought this beloved hymn to life. In 1818 at a chapel near Salzburg, Austria, Christmas preparations were underway when organist Franz Gruber found that the organ had failed and wouldn’t work for Christmas. A young priest, Joseph Mohr, had written some lyrics a couple years earlier and asked Gruber to set them to a tune they could sing easily with guitar accompaniment to replace the organ.

People liked it, but they mostly forgot about it. When the organ was repaired several years later, the organ builder found the music laying with the organ pipes, had it published, and it was a hit!

We are full of expectations during the Christmas season. The perfect gifts. Perfect family time. Perfect music. We’ve spent the entire season of Advent working and waiting for everything to come together, for the wrapping to come off, for school to let out, and to finally light that fifth candle on the Advent wreath so we can share the light of Christmas with each other. Silent Night ... What a testament to the promise of Christmas that even when things don’t go according to plan, we still receive the gift of God’s love.

Celebrate Christmas with us this Sunday at 6, 8, and 11 pm – each of the services will include communion, candle-lighting, and a weepy music director trying to make his way through his favorite song ...

I have a confession to make... Until just last year, I had never heard of a poinsettia. This may let you in on how much I know about decorating, but I have always simply called them “Christmas flowers.” I’ll admit, there was an awkwardly long amount of time between when I heard the word “poinsettia” being tossed around in the church newsletter and when I finally discovered what in the world it meant.

After a quick search, I learned that poinsettia plants are named after Joel R. Poinsett, who worked in the U.S. government as a diplomat under James Monroe. Joel R. Poinsett traveled to Mexico in 1828 and brought back a holiday tradition to the States. The tradition in Mexico was born out of a cultural legend. As the story goes, a young girl could not afford to provide a gift for Jesus' birthday. As she was feeling down, an angel appeared to her and told her to gather weeds from the roadside and place them in front of the church altar. Before she knew it, red blossoms sprouted from the weeds and became poinsettias (www.history.com).

Many of our traditions, especially around the holidays, do have meaningful backstories that help make them relevant. Usually, we just have to do a little digging to discover what the meaning behind our traditions are. As it turns out, poinsettias do have a religious purpose and do make a theological claim in our worship space. So, this Christmas, as you see the sanctuaries, stores, and windows filled with beautiful flowers, I hope you are reminded of the girl who gifted weeds for Jesus’ birthday. Christmas is not about material things or unwrapping frivolous doohickeys, it’s about the gift of giving. All that the little girl brought to Jesus was flowerless weeds, but that was enough.

When you see poinsettias, know that they represent God’s unimaginable ability to create something out of nothing, to bring the dead to life, and to make beauty out of what we perceive to be worthless. Sprouting a bright scarlet flower from the weeds is what our Christian story is all about. God takes us, considered by some as worthless weeds and helpless sinners, and transforms us into agents for love and justice. The peace that we create and the love that we proclaim is God’s gift to the world.

I may know nothing about poinsettia placement or decorating for the season of Christmas, but thankfully, God is the one that does the important decorating. God places us together and puts us in the perfect arrangement that extends out from beneath any sized tree. God’s Christmas display expands far beyond any window sill. When God creates, God uses decorations far more beautiful than poinsettias, Christmas trees, and bright twinkling lights. We are what God decorates the world with during the holiday. Through us, God showers the world with joy, love, peace, and hope. This Christmas, we celebrate that Jesus is the centerpiece of God’s display. We are arranged, we are illuminated, and we are made beautiful by God’s wondrous hands.

With Sprouting Beauty,

Lucas McSurley