We go to church because we're thankful

Hope Lutheran Church, Seattle, Washington (West Seattle)

I do like the calendar this year.

The four Sundays before Christmas are the Sundays of Advent, preparing to celebrate Emmanuel -- God entering the world in the form of a baby boy. Often, the first Sunday of Advent will be the Sunday of the long Thanksgiving weekend, so there’s no breathing space between these two holidays (really, Holy Days). But this is one of those years when the Sundays of Advent start a whole week after Thanksgiving weekend. Even better, they all fall in December (so every Advent calendar requires less explanation).

Pastor Peter Mueller made a point on Sunday morning at Hope Lutheran -- this was an opportunity to take a deeper dive into Thanksgiving.

Not that Christmas went unmentioned in the early worship service. A couple of different opportunities for decorating the church were announced. There was another announcement about the church’s Giving Tree in the lobby. People were encouraged to take a tag with a child or senior citizen’s gift wishes (next Sunday was the last chance to get a name). There was yet another Christmas announcement (though it wasn’t the final announcement) about a TV program, The Great Christmas Light Fight, on ABC Monday night. It’s a reality show featuring families who elaborately decorate their homes for Christmas. The episode was filmed last year at the home of a family from the church (and other folks from the church were filmed as well).

But the big announcement wasn’t about Yuletide. Julie Hill had been scheduled to speak that morning about an all-volunteer, nonprofit ministry, but she was sick and couldn’t come. So Erin, a woman from the church, came forward with a brief announcement about The Living Water Project, which seeks to demonstrate God’s love by funding clean water projects. The most exciting part of Erin’s announcement was that a group from the church was planning to work in Central America or Africa, helping a church provide clean water for their community. I love when churches do this kind of thing.

The Scripture for the day was a very Thanksgivingy passage, Luke 17: 11 - 19. It’s the story of the ten lepers who went to see Jesus. Jesus healed them all, but only one, a Samaritan, returns to thank Him. With the title “Being Mindful of Our Blessings,” Pastor Mueller focused on our need for gratitude. “It is easy for us to forget the fine art of giving thanks to God.”

He proposed that one of the obstacles to gratefulness is our rushed lifestyle. He quoted Dallas Willard’s injunction, “Ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life.” This is perhaps even more important at this time of year when holiday obligations can make us more hurried than ever. If we slow down, we can be more mindful of our blessings.

Pastor Mueller suggested four steps to pursue a life of gratitude:

Slow down

Live mindfully

Pursue perspective

Thank God!

He suggested thanking God to a ridiculous extent. He suggested thanking God for the fact that you don’t just have mustard in your fridge, you have three kinds of mustard. Thank God for that, and for all the people that make mustard possible. (I do have an affinity for mustard.)

In the pastor’s prayer, he thanked God for the truly important things. “Thank you, God, for the opportunities to share your love in this community and around the world.” I’m thankful for this time (before Christmas), for Hope Lutheran, and for God’s work in this congregation.

We go to a 100th birthday party

First Lutheran Church of West Seattle, Seattle, Washington
After celebrating Kalos Church's first birthday recently, we were excited to participate in a 100th birthday party last Sunday. First Lutheran of West Seattle commemorated the event by following a bagpiper from the site of the church's first building.

Along with banners, crosses, and the church choir, the congregation gathered in the sanctuary for hymns, Scripture readings, a brief sermon, and Communion, then went outside again for an official group photo.

Afterward, all were invited inside to enjoy a Kransekake reception and reminiscences wth old and new friends. We were honored to be part of this historic gathering.

Mindy goes to a Chrism Mass

Chrism Mass, Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, Fresno, California
When I first saw that Good Shepherd Lutheran Church was hosting a Chrism Mass, my first question was probably the same as yours: didn’t we just write about that church?

My second question was the one that motivated me to visit the church (again) for a worship service on a Thursday morning: what in the world is a Chrism Mass?

We’d been to a Jazz Mass, but I suspected the mood at this service would be different. After all, the word “chrism” is easier to define than “jazz” -- it means holy oil, a mixture (usually) of balsam and olive oil, intended for anointing the sick, people being baptized, or those being confirmed in their church membership. Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, and some Lutheran churches celebrate a special service, traditionally on the Thursday before Easter, to bless the oil to be used in the coming year. The worship service has also come to be a time when priests and pastors (and deacons and other church authorities) renew their ordination vows, consecrating their lives again to the calling they’ve received.

Dean was sleeping (he had worked the night before), so I went to church alone. When I arrived, the parking lot was full of cars*, and I could hear the organ playing hymns inside the sanctuary. I didn’t want to intrude on a sacred, very personal time in pastors' lives, and I was relieved to think that there was a good chance I could find a seat in a back row without being noticed. After all, I’m not a pastor, and I’m not a Lutheran (until we started this project, I don’t think I’d ever been in a Lutheran church, which is just embarrassing).

Then I opened the door.

The organist was playing. A woman in a clerical collar greeted me, and another in a robe shook my hand with a smile. A man was sitting near the aisle towards the front of the sanctuary. Sneaking in was not an option with only four other people in the room, and Katy Grinberg, in the white robe, invited me to move to a seat further forward. She said that the group would be small, and there was plenty of room for me.

Two men in white robes and stoles came in, and a man sat down across the aisle from me. The service began.
We each had a booklet with the order of worship; it was easy to follow the prayers, readings, and songs. We began with a confession of sin followed by what the church I grew up in called the “assurance of pardon.”

When it was time for the sermon, Katy talked about the passage in Luke 4 where Jesus, shortly after His temptation in the wilderness, went back to his home synagogue. When He was asked to read Scripture, He chose the passage in the prophecies of Isaiah that begins, “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.”

Katy wondered, “Is this a moment Jesus looked back to as His mission statement? I don’t know, but I have those kinds of moments...and there are times I go back to that confirm this is what I was called to.” Though what she had to say was directed to pastors, I was comforted and encouraged when she said, “We trust the God who calls us to action in this world to be at work in this world...That is the challenging and lovely and joyous part.”

After Katy's sermon, the bishop of the Sierra Pacific Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the Reverend Mark W. Holmerud, led the eight of us through the renewal of ordination vows and consecration promises, the blessing of the three bottles of oil (for healing, for those confirming their baptismal commitment after studying what that commitment means, and for baptism), and communion. I was grateful to be able to ask Sylvia, the woman in the clerical collar, if it was appropriate for me to take communion. She said it would be okay.

The program said, “After communion, all are invited to receive an individual prayer of blessing.” I watched while each of the pastors in attendance knelt at the rail in front of the sanctuary while Rev. Holmerud blessed each one with a prayer. After everyone had received communion and prayer, Katy put her hands on either of Rev. Holmerud’s shoulders to pray for him. Most of the others in the congregation also came forward to pray for him.

I was moved to see “the challenging and lovely and joyous” part of ministry being lived out in front of me -- even in a church we’d already visited once before.













*There's a preschool at the church. That's why there were so many cars in the parking lot.

We go to Church without Ashes

St Peter Evangelical Lutheran Church, Clovis, California
There are some interesting quirks in the calendar this year. Easter falls on April Fool’s Day, which always seems appropriate; the Resurrection is the greatest practical joke played on Death and the Devil. Last week there was another of those quirks -- Valentines Day and Ash Wednesday shared a date. Mindy and I didn’t celebrate with a dinner date (I’ve known enough people in the service industry to know that Valentine’s is one of the worst possible nights to go out. Prices are hiked, and the strained waitstaff can’t give romantic guests the attention they expect).

Instead, we looked for an Ash Wednesday service to attend that evening. I was a little concerned that somebody would draw a heart on my forehead instead of a cross as a very early April Fool’s prank, but as things turned out, I didn’t need to worry. The church we attended didn’t do ashes.

Ashes -- and Ash Wednesday worship -- have traditionally been a Catholic element of Lent, but over the past few years, more Protestant churches seem to have begun the practice. St. Peter Evangelical Lutheran Church is not one of them. The service we attended was the first of their Wednesday night Lenten worship services. They referred to ash but didn’t use it.

That was just as well, because Mindy wasn’t sure she wanted to receive the ash, and I knew I had to go to work later that night. But again, it wasn’t an option. As it turned out, Communion wasn’t an option for us either.

When we entered the sanctuary as the service was beginning, an usher told us it would be best, as visitors, if we didn’t take Communion. The program explained more. “To our Guests: Scripture teaches that those commune must be properly instructed and share a complete unity of faith before receiving the Lord’s Supper together. In the best interest of your spiritual care, we ask you to refrain from communing until we have an opportunity to study the teachings of the Bible together. Please speak to Pastor Schewe after church if you are interested in learning more about the Biblical beliefs we hold to here at St. Peter.”

It is an understandable concern. The Apostle Paul wrote in First Corinthians 11: 29 & 30: “For those who eat and drink without discerning the body of Christ eat and drink judgment on themselves. That is why many among you are weak and sick, and a number of you have fallen asleep.” (Paul was not writing the about the kind of “asleep” that happens during a boring sermon.)

Those verses from First Corinthians are the reason churches have different policies concerning Communion (aka Eucharist, or the Lord’s Supper). In the Roman Catholic Church, only those baptized in the church may receive the bread and the cup, so when we’re in a Catholic church, we honor that. Many Protestant churches offer the elements to all who acknowledge Jesus as their Lord and Savior, but when a church mentions other conditions for partaking, we try to honor those. (On the other hand, we’ve also visited churches that offer communion with no restrictions whatsoever. One church danced while celebrating the around the table.)

At St. Peter, old hymns were sung in the service, songs that I couldn’t recall singing before (“Jesus, My Great High Priest,” “Savior, When in Dust to You”). The congregation read responsively, and Jesus’ Passion Story (from various Scripture passages) was read from the pulpit. We learned the pastor was out of town caring for his ailing mother*, so a member of the congregation read the sermon.

After the sermon, people went forward for Communion, with a choice between drinking from a shared cup or from individual cups. I assume the one cup is offered in acknowledgment of the One Cup Christ offered, what He called “the cup of the new covenant in My blood,” symbolizing the way all His disciples would be one. I assume some people have concerns about the unhygienic nature of drinking from the one cup, so they opt to drink from small, individual plastic cups.

It’s odd though. Because of the second option, the “common cup” isn’t truly common to all.

As the service ended, the bulletin instructed us to “please remain seated for the extinguishing of the lights and singing by the soloist.” So we did. The lights dimmed, the candles were extinguished, and the lights went up again.

Afterward, at the door, many people introduced themselves, asking about us and doing their best to make sure we felt welcome. We appreciated that.

Lent has begun, and we look forward to the services to come over the next six weeks. We look forward to the communion we expect to have with people, and maybe even to having something to eat and drink -- but the ashes will have to wait until next year.

*We were sorry to learn that Pastor Schewe's mother passed away over the weekend. We join the St Peter congregation in prayers for the family.