God’s Word is Our Great Heritage

October 29, 2012

I am not a life-long Lutheran.  My first 18 years of life were in another fine denomination.  Both my father and mother had a long family history within that denomination.  It was in that white clapboard church on Main Street that I was baptized and attended Sunday school (with three pins for perfect attendance).  I sang in children’s choir and my piano teacher took me to the organ loft to learn some fundamentals of the pipe organ.  However, I have concluded that my feet have dyslexia.  But the place was special and full of memories.

As a teenager I had a faith issue.  Who knows, that may have been the Holy Spirit’s nudging me towards ministry.  The minister assigned to the congregation was legalistic.  He was specific how a Christian was supposed to act according to his definition. That was not really the theology of the church but that’s how he interpreted it.  Meanwhile, worship was stuffy and unfocused. My parents were liturgical types and it made them uncomfortable.  Their unrest was projected.

During Lent, we decided to attend midweek services at Grace Lutheran because our church did not have a lenten service.  The following Sunday I came to breakfast and as a typical 16-year old asked, “Do I have to go to church?”  Surprised by the reply, “Well, you have to go somewhere.”  “Then I’ll go to Grace.”  "Just bring the car back in time for us."

I loved the Lutheran liturgy.  It was the story of salvation.  I appreciated following the regularity of a church year with special seasons and having a lectionary of biblical readings.  I had found a church home. Thus, my journey began.

Looking back, it's funny how teenagers can be more missional than adults.  I had a lot of friends at Grace and they were the ones who invited me to Sunday school.  My classmate, Paulette, was the one who asked me to come to choir.

At the end of my senior year Pastor Diemer asked if I’d be interested in the adult membership class. The day that I was received as a member my parents sat beside me in full support.  It was during those membership classes that Pastor Diemer said something that struck me and eventually affected my ministry.  “I don’t care what church you end up just that it be a place where the Word of God is central and grace is proclaimed.”

Here's the point:  Let me echo that message that I received a bunch of years ago from Hans Karl Diemer:  whatever worship assembly it is for you, whatever denomination,  for the sake of faith be sure the Word of God is centermost and that the grace of God is at the heart of the worship and preaching.

Thanks be to God

Monday, October 22, 2012

There are fewer and fewer posters on church bulletin boards advertising lutefisk dinners.  I think back to my first congregation many years ago and the human energy expended to produce one of the best lutefisk suppers in the area.  I apologize to any fans of lutefisk but I never acquired a taste for the gelatinous nordic seafood.  One of my favorites on the menu, however, was the rutabagas.

For years and years Petra was in charge of cooking the rutabagas.  Petra had her station in the back of the furnace room where she cooked those pungent "beggies."  Petra was a wiry, energetic nearly 90-year old lady of Norwegian stock.  Petra knew just how much butter and brown sugar to add to the beggies so that they would be served perfectly. There were a few years that a newcomer (meaning less than 20 years in the congregation) would volunteer to assist Petra with the rutabagas. Petra would kindly shoo them out of the furnace room because she could handle the job very well by herself.  Thank you.

One winter's evening long after the autumn's lutefisk supper and just shortly after the church was finally aired out Petra was at home ready to watch Wheel of Fortune.  Petra sat in her recliner, turned on the TV, closed her eyes and fell asleep in the bosom of Jesus.  At her funeral we remembered and gave thanks for the many years of Petra's rutabaga ministry.

The following year there was the frantic question of who would do the rutabagas.  A delegate was appointed but the beggies were not as good as Petra's.  It took a couple years before the rutabaga quality was considered to be up to snuff.

Here's the point:  within the church we must all take responsibility for raising up leadership.  That may mean we are in charge of finding our successor.  Whatever the task, we run this relay and we must be ready to pass the baton to the one we have been coaching.

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