The Harbinger of God's New Creation

Greetings to all of you.   I’m Pastor Larry Wohlrabe, currently serving as interim bishop of the Eastern North Dakota Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.

I’m so glad we can share this online devotion as we approach the Fourth Sunday in Lent.

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all.

Let us pray:   Bend your ear to our prayers, Lord Christ, and come among us.   By your gracious life and death for us, bring light into the darkness of our hearts, and anoint us with your Spirit, for you live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.”   Amen.   (Prayer of the day for the Fourth Sunday in Lent, Year A, ELW p. 28)

Like a surprising but most welcome guest, we hear the appointed psalm for today, Psalm 23:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
   He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
   he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths
   for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
   I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
   your rod and your staff—
   they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me
   in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
   my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
   all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
   my whole life long.

Here ends our psalm.

Dear friends in Christ:  grace, mercy and peace be multiplied unto you through Jesus our Savior.

In the summer of 1977, eight weeks before my fianceé and I got married, I dived into an intensive language course at Luther Seminary in St Paul that immersed and marinated me in the Hebrew language—the mother tongue of our Old Testament.

Learning a new language is always an enlightening, eye-opening experience….and during those eight weeks I received some new tools that enabled me to take a fresh look at Bible passages I had lived with all my life.

Take, for example, verse 4 of this beloved psalm.    When I started to translate this  from the original Hebrew, I didn’t find what I expected to find:  “Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death….”   

Instead I discovered words that are best translated as we just heard them:   “Even though I walk through the darkest valley…”

Walter Brueggemann, a veteran teacher of the Old Testament says that this beloved psalm “is not idyllic and romantic…[but] rather the psalmist speaks out of a context of deep danger….Entry into ‘death valley’ is indeed ominous….a high-risk exposure that makes the traveler exceedingly vulnerable.”[1]   (p. 125)

My friends, doesn’t that sound like what we’re experiencing right now with the  the corona-virus pandemic sweeping across the globe?

Indeed these are dark days….not necessarily a literal darkness, but an emotional, mental, and spiritual darkness of anxious uncertainty.   Never before in my 65 years have I felt so engulfed by a situation like this, a pause in “business as usual” that could last for a long, long time.

As so many of us are “sheltering in place,” hunkered down in our homes, waiting for this crisis to pass, we have no clue how long that will take—no idea about when we’ll be able to step out into the light again.

Earlier this month, I heard our church body’s presiding bishop, Elizabeth Eaton, preach an amazing sermon on the promise and the blessing of darkness.

What? (you might be wondering)… Isn’t darkness a thing to be feared—filled only with doom, gloom and terror?

How could anyone speak of darkness as a time of promise, blessing, or fresh possibilities?

Bishop Eaton in her sermon, simply walked us through the Bible, drawing our attention to things many of us had missed about the redemptive possibilities of darkness.

So, she reminded us, the creation of the world according to Genesis began in darkness….darkness that covered an as-yet unformed void…that primeval darkness that blanketed the water, over which the Spirit of God hovered…the Spirit who was preparing to create light and every thing else--a very good creation that began in darkness.

Later, when God called Abraham and Sarah to set out for the Promised Land in order to be fruitful and multiply into God’s chosen people….it began with the darkness of the night sky, so they could see the stars and realize how vast God’s promises to them would become.

Centuries later, when Abraham’s and Sarah’s descendants were enslaved in Egypt, God set them free in the darkness of the night of Passover….when the slaves burst their bonds and escaped from cruel Pharaoh….

And then in the fullness of time, when God took on human flesh in Bethlehem’s manger, the birth of Jesus happened in the darkness, on a night when shepherds were awakened by angels piercing the night sky with their own Hallelujah Chorus…

And when that child became a man who went to the Cross for us….he entered that eerie mid-afternoon darkness on Good Friday in order to win God’s decisive victory over sin, death and the devil…

And when the crucified Jesus was buried--it was in a borrowed tomb…wherein the utter darkness of Holy Saturday slowly gave way to the first streaks of sunlight on Easter morning….as the Resurrection began in darkness….

And we could go on and on and on through the scriptures—and if we did, we’d come across other tales of how darkness is always about more than doom and gloom…because this same darkness is also the first inkling, the harbinger of God’s next new creation!

What if the darkness in which God is working right here and now—what if the shadows of this pandemic—what if this strange, uncomfortably dark time turns out to be a cosmic “reset”--an unanticipated “reboot” of life as we have known it.

Author Ann Lamott in a popular TED talk entitled “Twelve Truths I Learned from Life and Writing”…Ann Lamott says that “almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes—including you!”[2]

What if THAT’s what’s going on right now?   This darkness of anxious uncertainty we’re experiencing--what if it’s also a time for us and the world and the church to be reset by our Creator?

And what if this isn’t the darkness of death valley—but rather the darkness that hung over the formless void before God began the good work of creation?   Or what if this weird situation we’re in…turns out to be like the pre-dawn darkness through which those daring women scurried only to find Jesus’ borrowed tomb empty?

What if you and I and everyone else are experiencing in this dark time an amazing “this changes everything” hint of God’s next new thing?

In the name of Jesus.  Amen.

---

[1] Walter Brueggemann and William H. Bellinger, Jr., Psalms (New Cambridge Bible Commentary, 2014), p. 125.

[2] https://blog.ted.com/12-things-i-know-for-sure-anne-lamott-at-ted2017/

God's Got This....God's Got Us!

Messiah Lutheran Church, Fargo, ND

Lent 2/March 15, 2020

Psalm 91:1-2, 5-6

You who live in the shelter of the Most High,

   who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,

will say to the Lord, ‘My refuge and my fortress;

   my God, in whom I trust.’…

You will not fear the terror of the night,

   or the arrow that flies by day,

or the pestilence that stalks in darkness,

   or the destruction that wastes at noonday. 

Dear friends in Christ:   grace, mercy and peace be multiplied unto you through Jesus Christ our Savior, Lord and Healer.

Less than 2 ½ weeks ago I was among thirty community leaders in the Fargo-Moorhead area who attended an information session sponsored by the Cass Clay Volunteer Organizations Active in Disaster--and the disaster that was “front and center” that afternoon was an anticipated flood.

Together we assessed the likelihood of a “Top 10” or even a “Top 5” major spring flood here in the Red River Valley.

As we stared at charts, graphs, maps and statistics…the information we received was very sobering.  The high water saturation we had in the ground last autumn, combined with record snowfall this winter, pointed toward a flood that would at least match if not exceed the flood of 2009.

As the meeting was winding down, one of our local emergency management directors declared:  “Before we adjourn, we should probably ALSO factor into our planning the possibility that we may be dealing with both a major flood AND a viral pandemic at the same time.”

Today, smack dab in the middle of March, fears of a spring flood have taken a back seat to the fact that we’re under both state and federal states of emergency due to the global COVID-19  pandemic.

Wherever we turn these days, we’re constantly bombarded by news, information and dire predictions of how this pandemic might run its course.

As frightening as the physical health issues might be…we also have a nagging sense that overwhelming mental and emotional pressures are also bearing down upon us.   We’re facing not just a biological pandemic, but a spiritual pandemic marked by paralyzing fear, panic and anxiety. 

Because the critical challenges we’re facing are both physical and spiritual in nature, we realize that as Christians we need to be re-grounded in the bedrock reality that whatever happens, God is still in charge.

As dismal as things appear to be God will not allow anything to stand between us and God’s unfailing love.   God accompanies us and will keep on accompanying us through whatever may come our way.

Or as our younger generation might put it:  Don’t be afraid--God’s got this!

“God’s got this” is a 21^st century way of expressing the sentiments of  the psalmist in our text:

You will not fear the terror of the night,

   or the arrow that flies by day,

or the pestilence that stalks in darkness,

   or the destruction that wastes at noonday.  

In other words:  Have no fear!   God’s got this!

But let’s also be clear that when we say:  “God’s got this!” we aren’t just assuming God is going to whip out a magic wand and make it all better just like that!

To declare that “God’s got this” is so much more than “magical thinking.”   

If God’s got this—this pandemic—let us also lean into the promise that God’s also got us.    

God’s got this….because God’s got us--you and me--living human instruments through whom God’s intends to guide us through this unsettling time.  

But what does that look like?  

First and foremost, it looks like the church of Jesus Christ continuing to be the church—faithfully, fervently and winsomely serving God’s mission of making us and all things new through the life, death and resurrection of  Jesus Christ.   

So even though TV, newspapers and social media constantly bombard us with the latest bad news, we also keep listening for and proclaiming God’s Good News in Jesus Christ.    Which means we’re going to continue worshiping and praying even if we maybe won’t be able always to gather together as we are here, this morning.   We will not stop praising God and seeking God’s blessings---whether that happens in our homes, or around our family circles, perhaps using words and songs we share together using social media platforms like Facebook.

Second, God’s got this…because God’s got us…means that we expect our faithful prayers to lead us toward righteous, healing actions.  We’ll follow the trajectory of our prayers and follow our Lord’s leading…. toward supporting our governmental leaders, our first responders, our medical personnel, our military men and women, our pastors and deacons and lay ministers, and all our neighbors.

Third, God’s got this because God’s got us means that rather than getting completely lost in our understandable concern for ourselves and our families….we’ll also keep turning our eyes and our hearts toward the lost, the last and the least…whether they’re sick, grieving, poor, frail elderly—all our neighbors in deepest need.   To undergird our care for those who need it the most, we’ll also make sure that we continue to give our offerings to our congregations along with generous gifts to a whole array of frontline charities and helping agencies that also are doing God’s work in this critical time.

Fourth, God’s got this because God’s got us….means that in this time of disruption God is opening us to new practices and pathways to do what matters most.  To be faithful and fruitful in the midst of this global pandemic, we ask God to make us flexible in how we do God’s work and also to give us the foresight to realize that what works today might need to be replaced by other ways of serving God and our neighbors in the days to come as this crisis unfolds. 

Fifth and finally, God’s got this because God’s got us---persons who are being given a cornucopia of creative resources for doing what matters…like…

·       Staying in touch by phone or email or the U.S. mail with nursing home residents and hospitalized persons when we can’t visit them in person;

·       Providing meals and care for youngsters who’ll need nutrition and loving guidance if it becomes necessary to close our schools; and

·       Opening up and offering our church buildings to fill gaps and provide services that our community might need as the pandemic grows and spreads.

So here we are, facing a public health emergency none of us anticipated just a few months ago.    How will we live through these disturbing days without losing our minds or our bearings?

We can face this challenge because--in the long, winding history of God’s people--challenges like this one often become critical moments where God’s saving, intervening arm becomes most visible….calling forth from us a bravery, an imaginativeness, and a resolve we didn’t even know was in us!

Take a good look at the whole biblical story, at the center of which we see the crisis of Christ’s cross becoming the paradoxical means whereby God rescues us and gives us new life….

Take a good look at the whole biblical story, and notice that this is actually what God does best:   rescuing, preserving and leading us through whatever crisis comes our way.

So, my dear friends:   have no fear!   God’s got this…because God’s got us!

In the name of Jesus.   Amen.

Tribute to Bishop Tom Aitken

TRIBUTE TO BISHOP TOM AITKEN

ELCA Conference of Bishops

March 6, 2020

Our Lord is pleased that we have gathered here to honor and give thanks for our colleague and friend Bishop Thomas M. Aitken….and I thank Tom for asking me to offer these words.

After eleven years of sharing responsibility for the wandering woebegone Lutherans of northern Minnesota—God’s  “frozen chosen!”--I give great thanks to God for both Tom and his wife Beckie (who has become a good friend of my wife Joy)—and I rejoice in Tom’s outstanding service to the people, the congregations and the ministry partners of the NE MN Synod….not to mention the thousands of folks who are in that synod’s mission field

So in the next few moment I want to thank God for five of Tom’s finest gifts as a bishop, colleague and friend:

1.    First of all, Tom has been given an extraordinary gift for storytelling.

I got my first taste of this in 2008 when newly installed Bishop Bill Rindy of the Eastern ND Synod, Bishop Aitken and I all headed west on Interstate 94, like the pioneers wending our way across the stunning prairie landscape of the Great State of North Dakota in order to participate in new Bishop Mark Narum’s installation.

We stopped for a stretch break in Jamestown ND, home of the world’s largest concrete buffalo…..and as we stood there together, gawking at this amazing statue of a bison…..Tom shared a few hilarious observations with us, and I knew that the next twelve years would be filled with fun and laughter, thanks to Tom.

When Tom spins a yarn his hearers often laugh so hard that they leak a little—whether from their eyes, or their bladders, or both..  

To make his stories all the more memorable Tom often veers off into a spot-on impersonation of someone—his impersonation often being a better rendition of the person than the person herself or himself could offer.

Last June at my retirement banquet in Moorhead MN Tom even did an impersonation of me….which I thought was “so-so”….but the other 499 guests ate it up and howled with laughter.

What we in Region III have come to realize is that Tom Aitken is much like a human Juke box:   just stick a nickel in him and he’ll tell you one of his many funny stories. 

Tom is a storyteller, and thank God, he uses that great gift in service to the greatest story of all, the story of the Gospel

2.    Second, God has lavished on Tom (and his dear Beckie) a superb gift for hospitality….not just in their home in Duluth but throughout all the arenas of his service as synod bishop:  whether Tom is holding forth at a little Friday afternoon theology brew pub on tap at one of Duluth’s many watering holes…or whether he’s serving up his latest Bishop’s Brew beer at a synod assembly or pastors’ conference…or whether he’s planning the gustatorial delight of our Region III dinners at COB events.  

Off-the-charts extravert that he is, Tom often “inflicts” his hospitality on total strangers…whether they’re seat-mates on planes or buses….or some poor, unsuspecting Uber driver who shows even a hint of interest in matters of the spirit, paving the way for evangelist Tom to recruit  said Uber driver for the nearest friendly neighborhood Lutheran congregation!

3.  Third, our Lord is pleased with Tom’s deep dedication to connecting with virtually all the middle-school youth of his synod driving out of Duluth into the hinterlands of northeastern MN for Bishop’s visitations with confirmation classes:  teaching, communing, anointing and blessing these dear teenage brothers and sisters in Christ.  A relentless “road warrior” Tom has made his way to virtually all the congregations in NE MN.

4.  Fourth, our Lord has made of Tom a consummate colleague, who doesn’t hesitate to ask a fellow bishop for advice….who generously shares  good ideas with  colleagues….especially around issues that challenge us all:  whether it’s pumping new life into a neglected global companion synod relationship….or inspiring synod teams to address the timely and pressing issues of creation care, reconciliation with our Native neighbors, or helping congregations warm up to the idea of calling a pastor or deacon who identifies as GLBTQIA+.

5.  Fifth and finally, our Lord has inspired in Tom a compelling public voice and presence….regularly authoring timely op-eds for the regional newspaper….co-hosting Catholic-Lutheran gatherings in and around Duluth…or building on his work with the board of LSS of MN to help birth the Center for Changing Lives in Duluth:  a safe, central site where young people who are at-risk or experiencing homelessness can find holistic guidance and support.

The Most Honest Day of the Year

Ash Wednesday Reflection—February 26, 2020

LSS of ND Program Center, Fargo

In the name of Jesus.  Amen.

Today is perhaps the most honest of all the days on the Christian calendar.

Today is the day when we face one another and ‘fess up to three scary  things about ourselves---first, that we are sinners so adept at sinning that we can’t stop sinning; second, that we live on a dangerous playing field; and third that we’re all going to die some day.

364 days of the year we carefully skirt around those awful facts of our lives, but on Ash Wednesday we blurt them out to one another:  remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.

And it’s not just that we hear these hard words but that we feel them, we experience these words ground into our flesh, with a sooty mark right on our foreheads, for all the world to see.

Let’s be honest:  on most days this is the last thing we’d ever say about ourselves.   We explain away our sin as weakness; we take up arms to defend ourselves against all dangers; and we mask our mortality with a host of euphemisms like “she passed away” or “he shuffled off” after a courageous battle with whatever killed him.

Most days we wouldn’t be caught dead (!) doing what we will shortly do as we receive a sooty mark on our foreheads and hear those solemn words, spoken in the Garden to our first parents after they rebelled:  remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.

So, why do we hear and speak these words so bluntly today?

Are we simply “whistling in the dark?”  Is this merely a defiant act of spiritual bravado?   Or is something else going on?

I think it is the latter.    For the ashes today are engraved upon us---not in the form of an “S” for sinner, nor in the shape of an “F” for failure.

No, this sooty mark has a very definite, paradoxical shape to it.   It’s a cross—a cross that says we are as good as dead, and we can live with that because we are not the only ones who remember that.

There is Someone Else who remembers our dire straits today—Someone who knows us better than we know ourselves.   This One, our Lord, also remembers today and every day.   God, according to Psalm 103:14, “knows how we were made; [God] remembers that we are dust.”

Decades ago when I was a newly-ordained pastor, one of my best teachers said something I’ve never forgotten—namely that in the Bible whenever God remembers, things happen.

When our merciful God remembers that we are but dust, God doesn’t turn away from us…but rather, God becomes one of us, God takes on our dust, tackles evil, defeats sin, and defangs death when God dies—on a Cross of our making.

When God remembers that we are but dust, God acts to save us, God carries a Cross for us, God lies in a grave for us, God in Christ Jesus rises again for us, and God promises the same for us and for all whom God loves.

Because you see, God always plays for keeps…or in the words of author Anne Lamott, grace always bats last.

Remember that, too, my friends…today….and every day.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen.

Awkward: A Christmas Devotion

“Frank and Nikki sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.  First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage.”

This old children’s rhyme bespeaks a bygone era when it was widely assumed that families are created in predictable ways—following a recognizable sequence of events:   courtship, marriage, parenthood.

Although the biblical witness assumes, more or less, this ordering of domestic life, the pages of the Bible are replete with variations from the norm—nowhere as vividly as in the Nativity accounts of Matthew and Luke.

Hearing these well-worn texts again this Advent-Christmastide, I’ve been struck by the awkwardness of it all, as the Holy Spirit visits Mary and Joseph to clue them into the mysterious workings of God.

When Gabriel surprises young Mary with news that she is to become a mother, she blurts out the obvious question:  “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” (Luke 1:34) 

Awkward!

This awkwardness is compounded for Joseph, who learns of Mary's delicate condition along with the rest of her gossipy neighbors:  “When…Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.”  (Matthew 1:18)  

Awkward!

Having resolved to end their engagement quietly, Joseph receives in a dream his own angelic marching orders:  “‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit…”   (Matthew 1:20)  

First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage.   That may be the customary order of things, the conventional sequence in ordinary times….but with the birth of Jesus, all of that is upended, because God is afoot, messing with Mary and Joseph, disrupting their lives and in so doing intervening in “business as usual” across the whole world.

Which is precisely the point.  Ordinary time has been eclipsed by extraordinary time.  Mary’s pregnancy, with its mysterious interweaving of divine and human DNA signals the end of business-as-usual. 

If all of that seems jarringly awkward, we dare not be surprised.   Awkwardness goes with the territory when Incarnation (God becoming enfleshed) is happening.

Awkwardness is about more than momentary embarrassment or annoying discomfort.  Derived from the Middle English word awkeward, “in the wrong direction,” (from awke “turned the wrong way”) awkwardness signals a reversal of course.

And precisely that is what unfolds in Bethlehem’s manger: a blessed reordering of the whole fallen creation.   Where sin, death and the devil have held sway…a new dawn breaks forth with gifts of faith, resurrection and God’s own never-ending Reign “on earth as it is in heaven.”

“Almighty God, you gave us your only Son to take on our human nature and illumine the world with your light.  By your grace adopt us as your children and enlighten us with your Spirit, through Jesus Christ our Redeemer and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.  Amen.”   (Evangelical Lutheran Worship, collect for the Nativity of our Lord, p. 20)

They're ALL Our Children

They’re ALL Our Children

Note:  this post was originally published in Northern Lights, the e-letter of the NW MN Synod ELCA in April of 2011.  Some statistics reflect 2011 realities, not 2019 realities.

“[Jesus said], ‘Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.’ And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them.”   Mark 10:14-16

When it comes to words, the smallest ones are often the most important—prepositions and pronouns especially.   In the Next Generation vision it’s critical that we define “our” very carefully.   Just who, exactly are “our” children?

Let’s resist our natural tendency to narrow the definition of “our.”  “Our” children must be more than the kids in “our” homes or “our” congregations.    What if we considered all members of the next generation with whom we have any relationship whatsoever “our” children?   What if we accepted radical responsibility for all of these children? What if we drew the circle as big as we might imagine it to be?

Starting with the Inner Circle

To talk this way is not to deny our responsibility for the children in our innermost circles of kinship and relationship.   Surely we will think of the children we have birthed or adopted as “our” children.   When a child comes into our lives the whole world changes for us.   As followers of Jesus we will avoid spiritual child abuse or neglect;  we will assume a profound responsibility to “help [our] children grow in the Christian faith and life.”  (“Holy Baptism,” Evangelical Lutheran Worship, p. 228)

But such “inner circle” responsibility cannot be borne alone by parents.   For good reason the entire Christian community faces the baptismal font, everyone promising “to support [the baptized ones] and pray for them in their new life in Christ.” (ELW, p. 228)   In Holy Baptism, all children—whether they are carried to the font or walk on their own two feet—become God’s children and “our” children.   Several years ago, during a presidential election, folks asked: “Which does it take to raise a child—a family or a village?”   What a silly question!   It takes both a family and a village (or congregation) to raise a child in Christian faith and life.   They’re all our children!

This has profound implications for our priorities.   The older generation has always borne a special responsibility for the next generation.   We undertake sacrifices, commit resources, and make huge investments in all our children.   We do this together, cognizant of the fact that all Christian adults are also Christian parents.   Our care for the children in our homes and churches is foundational for all the ways we tend the other children whom God entrusts to us.

And for how long do we bear such radical responsibility for all our children?   When do Christian parents get to “retire?”  Several years ago, on a Confirmation Sunday, I did something rather mean.  I preached my sermon primarily to the parents of the confirmands.   Recalling the promises they made when their kids were baptized, I asked them when they would be finished fulfilling those promises?   (I’m guessing most of them thought they were finished that day—it was Confirmation Sunday, after all!) 

Here’s the mean thing I did.  I quoted the words from the liturgy of Baptism in the Lutheran Book of Worship, including these words:  “As they grow in years, you should…provide for their instruction in the Christian faith, that, living in the covenant of their Baptism and in communion with the Church, they may lead godly lives until the day of Jesus Christ.”   There’s the end date for our Christian parenting:  when Jesus returns to usher in God’s New Creation.   We’re not finished with our responsibilities to the next generation until then!  Even if you have adult children, your calling to help form Jesus Christ in them (Galatians 4:19) is not finished until the Day of Resurrection.

The Next Generation in Our Communities

But is it enough for us to look after all our children in the inner circles of our homes and congregations?   What about all the other kids in our “mission field?”  Are they not, also in some sense, “our” children?

A pastor who used to serve in our synod loved to walk her dog through the small town where she served—attracting children who loved to pet the dog.   The pastor’s dog helped open up ways to express love and care for all the children of her town.

Aren’t we always stumbling across such opportunities in our callings to be salt and light (Matthew 5:13-14) in our communities?    The next generation all around us—in our communities—they are also “our” children.   And we tend to under-estimate how many of them are out there.

Question:   in the 21 counties that make up our synod, who do we have more of—children and youth under the age of 18, or senior adults age 65 and older?   Which of these cohorts in our region’s population is larger? 

When I have posed this question in congregations up and down western Minnesota, almost always I have heard this answer:  “Oh goodness, we have lots more old folks than youth in our community!”  And almost always this answer is dead wrong!   Here’s what we discover in the latest demographic data regarding the territory covered by our synod:

Age category  Numbers of such persons       Percentage of such persons

Under age 18               93,566                                     23.5%

Age 65+                       67,603                                     17%

Nearly one-quarter of the almost 400,000 residents of our synod’s 21 counties are under the age of 18.   This holds true in 17 of the 21 counties of the synod.[1]   Truly, the next generation is all around us!   And they are, in a sense, all “our” children:  children to treasure, know by name, pray for, and invite into the Christian life.

What if our synod became known as “the church that cares passionately for all God’s children?”    What if we bent over backwards to invite the children, youth and their families to all the good things God is doing in our congregations?  

What if, when issues of public policy were being discussed, we Lutherans became identified as those who consistently stand on the side of what’s best for the next generation?  Part of our callings in Christ entails our citizenship.   Periodically we are faced with stark choices about our common life today and the kind of future that we can anticipate.  

School referendum elections determine whether our education system will remain strong and vital—but often these turn into battlegrounds that divide communities.   Empty-nesters and other older adults say things like:  “I don’t have any kids in the schools” or “my kids have graduated—we’ve paid our dues.”   But, my dear friends in Christ, are not all the kids in our communities “our” children, regardless of our own age or circumstances?

In an article that recently appeared in Newsweek magazine, Fareed Zakaria wrote:  “American politics is now hyperresponsive to constituents’ interests.  And all those interests are dedicated to preserving the past rather than investing for the future….There are no special-interest groups for our children’s economic well-being, only for people who get government benefits right now….That is why the federal government spends $4 on elderly people for every $1 it spends on those under 18.   And when the time comes to make cuts, guess whose programs are first on the chopping board.  That is a terrible sign of society’s priorities and outlook.”[2]

Once we start asking who are “our” children, the circle just keeps expanding.   It becomes only natural for us to claim as “ours”   

      

          All the children and grandchildren of our homes and congregations who may have moved to other locales but who are still tied to us by bonds of kinship and care;

·         All the children of Minnesota and the United States;

·         All the children of God’s world, including the amazing youth of our companion synod, the Andhra Evangelical Lutheran Church in southern India.

Before I close this article, I need to address a question you may be wondering about.  Does all this attention to the next generation mean that we no longer care about the “elders” in our homes, churches and communities?   Far from it!   One of my seminary professors liked to say:  “Preach to the eighth graders, and everyone else will listen.”   

When we undertake the great generational task of raising up our children, when we make our young ones our priority—lo and behold, all of society and all of the church is blessed.   It’s about those of us who have walked long in faith leaving the best legacy for the ones who will replace us in serving God’s mission.

Your Brother in Christ,

Lawrence R. Wohlrabe

Bishop, Northwestern Minnesota Synod

Evangelical Lutheran Church in America

God’s work.  Our hands.

For reflection and discussion:

1.       How do you and the disciples in your congregation keep the promises you make every time you participate in a Baptism?  What more might God be calling you to do for the baptized?

2.      What are some implications of the notion that Christian parents/adults never really “retire” from their responsibilities to the next generation?

3.      Why do we tend to under-estimate the number of children and youth in our communities?

4.      Besides school referendum elections, what are some other public policy issues that have a direct effect on the next generation?

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[1] U.S. Census Bureau data available at http://factfinder.census.gov/servlet/STGeoSearchByListServlet?_lang=en&_ts=319216362078  (accessed on 3/26/2011)

[2]  Fareed Zakaria, “Are America’s Best Days Behind Us?” in Newsweek (March 14, 2011), p. 30.