There is a gap in my postings, partly due to a trip I had last week. Once a year I join five other younger pastors and we sit at the feet of older, wiser pastors and leaders. This is our professional development. Most professions have some sort of continuing education, whether a certification, a degree, or professional learning hours. I feel that my job is no different. I must always be growing.
Charles Spurgeon once said, "We work as if it all depends on us, and we know that it all depends on God." So I work my tail off. I have to be a better administrator and organizer. I have to be a better teacher and preacher. I have to learn budgeting and finance better. I have to hone leadership and management skills. I must grow in counseling and crisis care. I must mature in the spiritual disciplines of prayer, study of the word, and meditation.
Yet while I work as if it all depends on me, I also know that it all depends on God. In all my working, sweating, and heavy lifting, there is grace. God does stuff that I couldn't imagine. So I continue with professional development, and God continues to develop me.
I was honored to be the preacher for my home congregation's 125th anniversary service this past weekend. Trinity Lutheran Church in Sauk Rapids, Minnesota got a nice little write-up in the St. Cloud Times. My father, Paul, has served this congregation for 17 years. In that time many things have happened, including a relocation from a historic building to a brand new facility on the edge of the growing city. They also birthed a Sudanese immigrant ministry, and are training a man to be the pastor of this new mission. Imagine these dark-skinned Sudanese dotting the landscape of lily white central central Minnesota.
At 125 years you begin to learn something. You can look back at your heritage and track God's providential hand in the blessings as well as the tragedies. I am grateful for heritage, especially as I stood next to my father in the worship service. We represent a 5th and 6th generation of Lutheran pastors in the United State. That is not a source of boasting or even a source of pride. Rather, it is a source of humbling perspective. There is an overwhelming sense that God has been up to something for a long time, and I get to participate in it.
I walked into my local coffee shop this morning. Cara was working. She my lesbian, roller-derby, barista friend. I was wearing my clerical collar, which I don't normally do. But Ash Wednesday made it appropriate attire for a few things on my schedule. I zipped my jacket up tight to conceal the collar. She doesn't know I'm a pastor. I'm afraid she'll freak when she finds out.
After a friendly exchange, she helped the gentleman behind me. She noted the ashes on his forehead. He proceeded to explain with pride that he did his Ash Wednesday duty by going to 6:30AM mass. "I got it out of the way early." This made me reflect on how Cara may have heard this: A useless religious ritual. An arduous duty. A cultural rite no different than fireworks on July 4th and roses on Valentines.
I walked away praying to God that if anyone had a mindless inclination to go to church today, that he forbid them from entering the church door. "God, if anyone is going to church out of cultural obligation, spare them of the vain effort." I'm not sure how sanctified my prayer was, but I had to go somewhere with my frustration. If it doesn't matter, don't do it. Don't insult God and don't make Christians look so mindless.
Ashes on Ash Wednesday find their origins back in Genesis 3:19. In light of the fall into sin: "for you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Adam's basic ingredient was dirt. He would simply be an inanimate object, except that the living God blew life into him (Gen. 2:7). Unfortunately, Adam and Eve's violation in Genesis 3:6 had a damning consequence. From then on, when breath leaves a human, they go back to dust. Ash Wednesday reminds us of this universal consequence.
Dust became life with a breath. But now our last breath means death and a return to dust. But that's not all. Resurrection means that the dust comes back to life again. Jesus is the breath of God to make lifeless dirt become truly human again - to put us back to God's original intention. Dust - Breath - Life - Death - Dust - Life again. Wear ashes mindful of your mortality. And hopeful that dust will breathe again.
Maybe I should go back and see if Cara is still working. This time, I'll wear my ashes.
Dear reader, please consider a transfer of membership to my congregation in St. Louis, MO if you are a current resident of one of the following countries:
Iraq Sudan
Afghanistan Saudi Arabia
Nigeria Iran
Pakistan
Why relocate to St. Louis? Cardinals baseball (2011 World Champions). Four seasons. Budweiser. The Arch. Comparatively safe to your country. And our church needs members who have experienced outright persecution for their faith. In fact, I believe your presence in our church would be exponential in its impact. We need you to change us. Your American brothers and sisters are getting lazy on the couch of comfort and contentment.
We in the American church frequently lament the fall of Christian influence in the United States. But such whining seems to be a shrill cry when you consider the worldwide body of Christ. In a rather surprising front page cover, Newsweek’s February 13th, 2012 feature article is titled “The Rise of Christophobia.” It chronicles the intense worldwide persecution of Christians, particularly in Muslim majority countries. Noting the case of Nigeria, author Ayann Hirsi Ali writes, “In the month of January 2012 alone, Boko Haram (a national religious organization) was responsible for 54 deaths. In 2011 its members killed at least 510 people and burned down or destroyed more than 350 churches.”
We annually gather a reluctant batch of adolescent students in a rite called confirmation. In the Lutheran Service Book Agenda, a question is asked of all confirmands: “Do you intend to continue steadfast in this confession and Church and to suffer all, even death, rather than fall away from it?” They are to respond: “I do, by the grace of God.” We might get a different response if 14-year-old Billy was dropped in Pakistan where a “blasphemy law” can make a declaration of faith in the Triune God a criminal act. Each of us would give critical consideration to our confirmation vows if we lived under such a threat.
I am humbled by the faith of minority Christians who stand as lone voices in their country and culture. I am always a bit uncomfortable with the monolithic nature of my denomination’s demographic. We are too safe and too comfortable. The issues we fight about are too parochial. "Worship wars" are inconsequential when you could lose your job or your life for speaking the Apostles Creed. So with seriousness, I am requesting the transfer of any Christian who comes from a context of persecution. We need you. We need to you to:
- Teach us what it is to sacrifice.
- Remind us to pray for the worldwide church.
- Show us how risk for the sake of the gospel.
- Raise our missional horizon.
- Show us that we are blessed.
And whether you relocate or not, we pray for you. “The more often you mow us down the more in number we grow; the blood of Christians is seed.” - The ancient church father Tertullian
I'm a proponent of strong male leadership in the church. I believe that our mission is desperate for manly, courageous, godly, muscular leadership. Lest you think this means chauvinistic locker-room leadership, let me tell you about our annual men's retreat this past weekend.
I've been leading this retreat for the last 5 years. Friday night always consists of rowdy forms of testosterone-induced competition. Sweaty guys playing bean bag toss and ping pong. Some guys extended the play until 4:00AM. There was also venison sausage and adult beverages (in moderation).
But strong male leadership is not defined by games, chest-hair, or guy sweat. Something remarkable happened this year that took our annual retreat to another level. Our format included a panel of five men who were asked a variety of questions ranging from health to family to work. The panel was honest and forthright. This vulnerability immediately lowered the defenses of the larger group, opening up a whole new level of conversation. Suddenly we were having an hour-long conversation about pornography and sexual temptation. Men were making new connections, supporting one another, and praying. There was a sense of, "I'm not the only one. I'm not alone." And from such vulnerability comes strength.
Jesus calls his disciples to a posture of servanthood, "Whoever would be great among you must be your servant . . . even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and give his life as a ransom for many" (Matt. 20:26-28). This is leadership on your knees. This type of leadership means you put yourself under others. And if you do that, you need some muscle to do the heavy lifting. Humility and vulnerability require strength.
Men typically have a hard time being vulnerable in general, and in the church especially. We feel the need for pious facades. I am grateful that this weekend cracked the wall and allowed for a new level of strength among many of our men - a strength proven in its vulnerability. I have courage in the mission when I know these men are on it.
_ The following is a guest post from my dad, Paul Cloeter, a fifth generation Lutheran pastor currently serving in central Minnesota. A Point of Reference
Memory loss, when it comes with age, doesn’t often affect the distant past. That’s why I paid particular attention to a story told to me by my wise and now-sainted grandfather (that would be ‘thirdgen’) not long before he died at 95 years of age. It was a simple story of an incident in his life – in the year 1907 to be exact – and it was etched in his memory.
He had been sent out in a winter storm to get some grocery items at a store 2½ miles away. In the prairie, there are straight roads that intersect at 1 mile intervals. In the prairie, there are also blinding snowstorms. Being a typical 13 year old, he tried to “cut the corner” on a mile section, but instead found himself lost in the middle of the field. He kept walking what he thought was a straight line, but in fact, had walked in a complete circle and came out right back at the road where he started.
It was then that he learned the lesson I learned for the first time listening to him: that one leg is stronger than the other and will, without a point of reference, out-stride the weaker leg, sending the traveler in a circle. He also learned that shortcuts don’t always produce the desired effect!
A “point of reference” is what I was thinking about while reading a recent USA TODAY article about a large and growing secular subset in our culture whose response to religion – in fact, any spirituality – is described as “So What?” Call them “apatheists”, folks who have come out of the closet to publicly confess “no spiritual curiosity . . . they simply shrug off God, religion, heaven or the ever-trendy search for meaning and purpose.”
I know: it’s nothing new. I remember a conversation I had in my first parish with a father who was trying to encourage his daughter and son-in-law in their spiritual walk. With grave concern in his voice he asked me: “What do you say to someone who says, ‘I don’t see the need’?”
There are many ways one can get lost in this life. Attempting self-serving short cuts to contentment and thinking only in terms of the here and now come to mind. So can short-sightedness about ‘who I am’ and ‘why am I here’; ‘where am I going’ and ‘who am I going to meet there’. Without answers to those questions, life becomes a vicious circle, and those who say ‘so what’ ultimately find themselves with no leg to stand on.
A new year is a good time to sight in a point of reference, get our bearings, and proceed –one step at a time. Past Christmas and Good Friday to Easter we go; “in green pastures” and “beside quiet waters”; into fiery trials and finally, through “the valley of the shadow of death.”
No shortcuts . . . just a Father’s love!
 Sadao Watanabe "Christ Calling Simon and Andrew"
I was with a group last night, discussing some of the not-so-nice sides of the Christian church. You may have experienced some yourself. The church is made up of lying, thieving, hypocritical, broken people who can be incredibly nasty. This is especially hurtful because you'd expect Christians to be Christlike. If you wrestle with this, a few considerations:
1.) "The church is a hospital for sinners." I can't identify the church father who said this, but it holds truth. We don't claim perfection, but redemption. Dietrich Bonhoeffer talked about the church as those "gathered in and through Jesus Christ." A recognition of the church's sinful underbelly calls us to repentance. And it reveals Jesus to be the miracle-working doc who said, "It's not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick" (Matt. 9:12).
2.) "The church is a whore, but she's my mother." - Augustine. Yeah, I just wrote "whore" in my blog, but it's a quote. Our ungodly blemishes are precisely why Christ came to cleanse his bride with his own blood. The church is like your family, with all the quirky, unreasonable, and unlikeable relatives. You are related by blood, whether you like it or not. In fact, precisely when you don't like it, you realize how precious that blood is.
3.) It's important to distinguish the church's culture with her essense. We often become obsessed with our culture - institutions, rules, politics, way of life, etc. Culture often becomes exclusive and narrow-minded. But it's important see the difference between culture and essence. The culture, no matter how perverse it may become, does not negate the essence of one Lord, one hope, one baptism.
Any other thoughts?
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