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A Personal Reflection on Researching the Alt-Right by Katrina Buchanan

Bio: Katrina Buchanan, a native of Erie, PA, and a graduate of Robert Morris University in  Pittsburgh, PA, is the current Lutheran Volunteer Corps volunteer serving in Chicago, IL, as the ELCA’s Justice for Women program assistant.

On August 15, 2017, the ELCA released a statement confirming its commitment to confronting racism and anti-Semitism in response to the events that took place in Charlottesville, VA, during the “alt-right” rally.

Shortly after the release of the ELCA’s statement, Justice for Women program director Dr. Mary Streufert asked me to take it a step further by putting together a report on the rampant sexism that the alt-right espouses, especially found in the comments made about Heather Heyer in the wake of her murder. I knew this is what I wanted to do for my service year with the Lutheran Volunteer Corps (LVC), but I wasn’t prepared for how emotionally taxing the task would be.

Although I tried to stay objective and detached, it was impossible as I read through hundreds of ad hominem attacks on Heyer and those who sought to protect mourners at her funeral. I scoured social media, various news sites, and the websites of the groups in the alt-right to try to get a better idea of what the alt-right is, why it exists, and why it’s dangerous on multiple levels. My disgust deepened as I researched background information about the various organizations and groups, women’s roles in the movement, and how these groups view and treat women.

I’ve struggled with how I’ve wanted to write this personal reflection on researching that report. As I wrote my report, I grappled with feelings of incredulity, hatred, despair, anger, and sadness. I understood why, but still couldn’t accept that such things could not only exist, but also flourish. More than two months later, I still haven’t found peace in this struggle, but I think that’s the point. As we say in LVC, I have to do the internal work so that I can do the external work.

There isn’t an easy answer to this question of how to create unity where hatred, prejudice, and intolerance is so deeply ingrained. As I flounder to find the words that I need, the words of the prayer of Saint Francis come to me instead, which is how I will leave you:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console,

to be understood as to understand,

to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

 

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Top Ten Reformation Quotes about Hunger and Poverty: The Full List

Happy 500th Anniversary!

Nearly 500 years ago, the young monk Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to a church door in Wittenberg, Germany, and kicked off the movement that would become the Protestant Reformation. The theological disputes that followed have been well-documented over the centuries, but what the Reformation meant for the church’s witness in the midst of hunger and poverty is often forgotten. In this series leading up to October 31, 2017, we have taken a deeper look at the Reformation’s importance for the church’s social ministry – and the important work to which people of faith are called by the gospel.

And now, the full list so far, with links to the previous posts:

10) “I believe that God has made me and all creatures; that He has given me my body and soul, eyes, ears, and all my members, my reason and all my senses, and still takes care of them. He also gives me clothing and shoes, food and drink, house and home, wife and children, land, animals, and all I have. He richly and daily provides me with all that I need to support this body and life.” (Small Catechism)

9) “Christians are to be taught that he who sees a needy man and passes him by, yet gives his money for indulgences, does not buy papal indulgences but God’s wrath.” (95 Theses, #45)

8) “According to this passage [Matthew 25:41-46] we are bound to each other in such a way that no one may forsake the other in his distress but is obliged to assist and help him as he himself would like to be helped.” (“Whether One May Flee a Deadly Plague”)

7) “Let us also be generous [as Abraham was], and let us open the door to poor brethren and receive them with a joyful countenance. If we are deceived now and then, well and good. In spite of this our good will is demonstrated to God, and the kind act…is not lost on Christ, in whose name we are generous. Hence just as we should not intentionally and knowingly support the idleness of slothful people, so, when we have been deceived, we should not give up this eagerness to do good to others.” (Lectures on Genesis)

6) “We should not tolerate but banish [beggars]; not in an unreasonable and tyrannical manner but rather with willing help so that we Christians shall allow no one to come into such poverty and need that he is afflicted and caused to go and cry out after bread.” (Andreas Bodenstein von Karlstadt, “There Should Be No Beggars among Christians”)

5) “We were in need before God and lacked God’s mercy. Hence, as our heavenly Father has in Christ freely come to our aid, we also ought to help our neighbor through our body and its works, and each one should become as it were a Christ to the other…” (Freedom of a Christian)

4) “God says, ‘I do not choose to come to you in my majesty and in the company of angels but in the guise of a poor beggar asking for bread…I want you to know that I am the one who is suffering hunger and thirst.” (Commentary on the Gospel of John)

3) “Many a person thinks he has God and everything he needs when he has money and property; in them he trusts and of them he boasts so stubbornly and securely that he cares for no one. Surely, such a man also has a god – mammon by name, that is money and possessions – on which he fixes his whole heart. It is the most common idol on earth.” (Large Catechism)

2) “But beware how you deal with the poor, of whom there are many now. If, when you meet a poor man who must live from hand to mouth, you act as if everyone must live by your favor…and arrogantly turn him away whom you ought to give aid…he will cry to heaven…Such a man’s sighs and cries will be no joking matter…for they will reach God, who watches over poor, sorrowful hearts, and he will not leave them unavenged.” (Large Catechism)

And, now, for the #1 quote from the Reformation:

1) “For the sacrament [of Holy Communion] has no blessing and significance unless love grows daily and so changes a person that he is made one with all others.”

This touching and poignant quote comes from Luther’s 1519 essay, “The Blessed Sacrament of the Holy and True Body of Christ,” reprinted in Timothy Lull’s superb collection, Martin Luther’s Basic Theological Writings. It highlights Luther’s profound understanding of the sacrament – and discloses the misinterpretations of the sacrament among many communities of faith today.

According to Luther, there are two requirements to take Holy Communion authentically. First, we must have an awareness of our total dependence on God’s grace and the belief that this grace is present in the bread and wine of the meal. Second, we must commit ourselves to sharing the burdens of the other people at the Table with us. Without both of these present, “the sacrament has no blessing and significance.”

What Does This Mean?

In reading this, I am reminded of a lecture I heard many years ago. Gustavo Gutierrez, one of the founders of Latin American liberation theology, spoke to us about Holy Communion. He noted the different ways the Gospel authors describe Jesus’ last supper with his disciples. In Matthew and Luke, Jesus offers the words that would come to form the basis for the sacrament and Words of Institution: “take and eat.” But in the Gospel of John, there is no institution. Instead, as Gutierrez pointed out, Jesus removes his garment and washes the disciples’ feet.

Historical accuracy aside, what Gutierrez was getting at was the link between the sacrament of the meal and the sacramental act of loving service. This is a link Luther, too, makes, though not by comparing the Gospel stories. Instead, Luther sees the sacrament as primarily relational, both vertically and horizontally. Vertically, Holy Communion reminds us of our utter dependence on God and provides for God’s sharing of grace with us. Horizontally, Holy Communion reminds us of the burdens we all share – spiritual, physical, emotional – and the commitment we must make to one another.

The sacrament is something of a conversation, perhaps. God speaks to us the word of grace through the elements; we express our dependence and repentance to God; and we each offer a word of commitment to the neighbor beside us at the Table. It is so much more than merely “God and me,” even though many folks have tried to characterize the sacrament as such.

What misinterpretations miss is the third presence within worship: the neighbor. For Luther, as for many before him, worship is not merely between God and me; the neighbor is a central part of what it means to worship. To worship is to participate in ritual that forms us for service in the world. It is not merely a “break” from everyday life, nor a private service to God. It is a formative event that renews, reconciles, and reinvigorates us to be, as Bishop Elizabeth Eaton has said, “church for the sake of the world.”

This is not all that new, even for the Reformation. As Luther describes earlier in this essay, early Christians understood the “agape meal” (the precursor to Communion) as a key part of their service of one another and the world. At it, members of the community would bring food to share, and those who were hungry or thirsty were filled at the Table. (We see evidence of this in Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians.)

An early Christian fresco of the agape feast, from the Catacombs of Saint Peter and Marcellinus, Rome.

 

The community gathered at the Table is a witness against all that has crucified Christ and continues to cause suffering today, and it is a testimony to the truth of God’s grace active in the world to end suffering. To take Communion is to become part of a community, to “share the misfortunes of the fellowship,” and to receive the gift of grace that empowers us to participate in God’s transformation of the world. And, again, this isn’t accidental or optional: “the sacrament has no blessing and significance” without this.

So, What?

As we celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation today, we would do well to remember that this seismic shift was not merely a theological disagreement about Heaven and Hell. It was a fundamental conflict about what the church is called to be. Luther’s great insight – if seemingly simple, if in many ways unoriginal – was that the church is called to be more than a mere institution. It is called to be a living sign of the grace of God in the world. If it is to have power, it must be the power given by God to confront injustice and evil. If it is to be present, it must be present as a refuge for all who suffer. If it is to have authority, it must speak the authoritative word of grace. If it is to be wealthy, it must find its treasures in the richness of reconciled community. If it is to last, it must be worth keeping around.

We’ll end this series with an “honorable mention” quote that comes from none other than former Lutheran Walter Rauschenbusch, the founder of the Social Gospel movement in the early 1900s. In a 1910 letter, he challenged the Lutheran churches in the United States to reclaim their reforming heritage and join the frontlines in the struggle for justice:

Let the Lutheran churches remember their own brave revolutionary beginnings and summon up the daring spirit of the youthful Luther in his noblest days, when he was the voice of his nation and its darling, and embodied in his big, heroic heart all the noblest aspirations after national unity, social justice, moral health, and religious sincerity.

Truly, a challenge that still cries out to us today.

Happy 500th!

 

 

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November 5, 2017–Walking the Talk

Scott Moore, Erfurt, Germany

 

Warm-up Question

When was that last time you noticed someone being hypocritical (saying one thing and doing the opposite)?

Walking the Talk

Aung San Suu Kyi, winner of both the Nobel Peace Prize and the U.S. Congressional Gold Medal, has come under massive criticism in recent weeks because of her stance on the Rohingya crisis. The Rohingya are an ethnic minority that has been living in Myanmar since the 8th century. They are not considered one of the 8 “national races” and, according to a law passed in 1982, do not have the right of citizenship. They are effectively stateless. They are not allowed to work and do not have freedom of travel. As many as 600,000 of the approximately 1 million Rohingya living in northern Myanmar have fled to Bangladesh since the end of August. Their stories are of extreme violence against them from the majority Buddhist population. They are being tortured in many different ways and being driven from their homes. Things have been getting more and more difficult since 2012, and the world community had been patient with Suu Kyi and her party since it came into power. Things are rapidly changing.

The politically active daughter of two politically active parents, Aung San Suu Kyi, spent approximately 15 years under house arrest by the military-led government between the years 1989 and 2010. She was influenced by people like Mahatma Gandhi and has spoken up a lot over the years on democracy, justice, peace, and fear. She has been the subject of a number of films and has been referred to in songs like U2’s tribute to her, “Walk On”. In 2015, her political party won a landslide election and she was eventually made the first State Counselor, a position like prime minister, which was a position created specially for her. She is prohibited from being president because her deceased husband and her children were/are foreign nationals. She is considered by many at home and abroad to be a hero. Unfortunately, her words and her silence in recent weeks do not resonate with what she has taught all the years she was in captivity, speaking and teaching about freedom and democracy. Here are a couple of quotes of her from her writings:

“Within a system which denies the existence of basic human rights, fear tends to be the order of the day. Fear of imprisonment, fear of torture, fear of death, fear of losing friends, family, property or means of livelihood, fear of poverty, fear of isolation, fear of failure. A most insidious form of fear is that which masquerades as common sense or even wisdom, condemning as foolish, reckless, insignificant or futile the small, daily acts of courage which help to preserve man’s self-respect and inherent human dignity.”

“It is not power that corrupts but fear. Fear of losing power corrupts those who wield it and fear of the scourge of power corrupts those who are subject to it.”

“If you’re feeling helpless, help someone. ”

“You should never let your fears prevent you from doing what you know is right.”

“To view the opposition as dangerous is to misunderstand the basic concepts of democracy. To oppress the opposition is to assault the very foundation of democracy.”

“It is not power that corrupts but fear.”

“Government leaders are amazing. So often it seems they are the last to know what the people want.”

“Fear is a habit; I am not afraid.”

“Please use your liberty to promote ours”

“Some have questioned the appropriateness of talking about such matters as metta (loving-kindness) and thissa (truth) in the political context. But politics is about people and what we had seen … proved that love and truth can move people more strongly than any form of coercion.”

Discussion Questions

  • What other stories around the world or in history does the current situation in Myanmar/Burma remind you of?
  • Why do you think Suu Kyi, now that she is in power, is much more cautious and silent about the situation than she was when she was a political prisoner?
  • What is our responsibility as a nation on the outside when we see hundreds of thousands of “stateless” minorities being driven out of their homeland?
  • What is our responsibility as the church and as Christians?

Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost

(Text links are to Oremus Bible Browser. Oremus Bible Browser is not affiliated with or supported by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. You can find the calendar of readings for Year B at Lectionary Readings

For lectionary humor and insight, check the weekly comic Agnus Day.

 

Gospel Reflection

When someone, usually someone older and with some authority over us,wants us to be better they might use the phrase, “do what I say, not what I do.” We understand they are encouraging us be even better than they are. We have also heard people tell us not to drink irresponsibly (or at all if we are underage), or smoke, or do any number of things that they did, or maybe even are still doing. We hear the words. We might even agree with the words. It is still hard for us to follow the advice of people who aren’t living what they teach.

Jesus is talking about a similar kind of dynamic in this reading in Matthew’s gospel. The Scribes and the Pharisees are two of the groups that make up the Jewish religious leadership in Jesus’ time. The Scribes know the written word of God and the Pharisees are well-versed in the oral tradition of the faith. Both apparently are seen as religious authorities on the teachings of Moses. “Moses’ seat” is the symbol of teaching authority in the synagogue. Despite the numerous moments of conflict Jesus experiences with these religious leaders throughout the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus does not say something like, “Don’t listen to a word they say,” or, “They are full of baloney.” Instead, Jesus acknowledges the good of what they are teaching even if he believes them to be hypocrites. “Follow the good stuff they teach but don’t do what they do,” is the summary of Jesus teaching about his antagonists.

In addition, Jesus is very clear about what the roles are for the disciples. Heavenly Father is father, Messiah is instructor, they should be good students, and they should remain humble servants. Jesus’ words encourage us to learn to separate the good of what someone teaches from their imperfect ways.

We are tired of our leaders being hypocritical. We want the world to be authentic. We want people to live what they teach and practice what they preach. And, it is ok to want that and to have standards, but it is important for us to realize that people are inconsistent. Human beings are often a contradiction. You can name it what you want: sin, imperfection, a work in progress. It is good for us to identify the grace and the good in what people say, even when they don’t live up to what they teach. Jesus calls us to be aware and to learn discernment. Jesus calls us to place our focus on God and to see our Lord as the Messiah.

Discussion Questions

  • When have you been frustrated or even disappointed by religious leaders you felt were being hypocritical?
  • When have you experienced that from other Christians you respect?
  • When were you ever hypocritical, where you acted contrary to what you say you believe?

Activity Suggestions

  • Does your congregation have a mission statement? If so, take a look at it and see where you feel you as a community of faith are living in accordance with what you say you are as a community?
  • Download any one of the ELCA’s social statements and see if you can identify moments in your congregation’s or in the wider church’s experience where you assert one thing yet live another?

Closing Prayer

Gracious God, you never change yet you show yourself new to us each day. Open our eyes, our hearts, and our minds to understand your will for us. Give us the strength to live accordingly so that others might know the joy of a life in your love and grace. We ask this in the name of Jesus Christ, your Son, the one who walked with us and died and lives for us. Amen

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Top Ten Quotes about Hunger and Poverty: Counting Down to the 500th – #2 and 3

 

Nearly 500 years ago, the young monk Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to a church door in Wittenberg, Germany, and kicked off the movement that would become the Protestant Reformation. The theological disputes that followed have been well-documented over the centuries, but what the Reformation meant for the church’s witness in the midst of hunger and poverty is often forgotten. In this series leading up to October 31, 2017, we will take a deeper look at the Reformation’s importance for the church’s social ministry – and the important work to which people of faith are called by the gospel.

As we celebrate 500 years and look forward to the future, let’s take a look back at the past, returning to the basics with quotes from Luther’s Large Catechism. Many thanks to Samuel Torvend and Jon Pahl for their essays in The Forgotten Luther: Reclaiming the Social-Economic Dimension of the Reformation (Lutheran University Press, 2016), which superbly highlight Luther’s approach to greed and the economic dimensions of the catechisms, respectively.

 

 

#3 – “Many a person thinks he has God and everything he needs when he has money and property; in them he trusts and of them he boasts so stubbornly and securely that he cares for no one. Surely, such a man also has a god – mammon by name, that is money and possessions – on which he fixes his whole heart. It is the most common idol on earth.”

#2 – “But beware how you deal with the poor, of whom there are many now. If, when you meet a poor man who must live from hand to mouth, you act as if everyone must live by your favor…and arrogantly turn him away whom you ought to give aid…he will cry to heaven…Such a man’s sighs and cries will be no joking matter…for they will reach God, who watches over poor, sorrowful hearts, and he will not leave them unavenged.”

I wonder how things might be different if we replaced all those “Cleanliness is next to godliness” and “Jesus is my co-pilot” signs and stickers with this flashing indictment from Luther: “Beware the cries of the poor you ignore, for they will reach God.”

Now available under “Woke” in the cross-stitch aisle.

 

We’ve discussed the Lutheran Catechisms in a previous post, but here we move into a different section: Luther’s discussion of the Ten Commandments. As before, while the theological explanations that Luther offers within the catechisms are relatively more familiar to many folks, Luther adds an interesting twist when it comes to his examples of theology in practice. Overwhelmingly, his examples are economic, particularly when it comes to the 1st (“You shall have no other gods”) and 7th Commandments (“You shall not steal”), from which the above quotes are taken.

What Does This Mean?

In the 1st Commandment, Luther points out that the commandment is intended to underscore the demands of “true faith and confidence of the heart,” such that one clings to God alone. Quote #3 above is the first example Luther uses to demonstrate “failure to observe this commandment.” To have faith in something, according to Luther, is to cling to it with all your heart, to place in it all our trust, and to find consolation in naught else. The only proper object of this kind of faith is God. Theologian Paul Tillich had a great way of describing the object of faith. He called it one’s “ultimate concern.” Our ultimate concern is that object of faith which motivates our behavior, provides us with hope, and helps us understand our place in the world.

Luther saw that for many folks in his day – and, we could say, in our day, as well – the true object of faith was not God but wealth and possessions. This shaped what we might call their “active” and “passive” faith-lives. In the active faith-life, they pursued wealth, even to the detriment of other responsibilities, especially their responsibilities to their neighbors. In the passive faith-life, they rested secure in their wealth, as if they could sustain themselves with security and happiness with their possessions alone.

For Luther, this is idolatry. The active side of greed causes people to pursue wealth as if the world were merely a storehouse of possessions for them to acquire, rather than an abundant field of God’s gifts for them to steward. It also causes them to forget their dependence on God, passively resting in their own achievements as sufficient.

We might look at Luther’s discussion of the 7th Commandment as dealing with the first, active side of this faith, while the second, passive side is treated in his discussion of the 1st Commandment. Looking at the passive side first, putting our trust in our own wealth and possessions is a fool’s errand. Especially after the Great Recession, most of us should recognize the precariousness of wealth. Why place our trust in something so transitory? No matter how much wealth, how many possessions, we can never have the kind of “blessed assurance” that grace alone provides.

There is another insidious side to this. If we are convinced – even subconsciously – that our existence or salvation depends on our wealth, we will do anything we can to pursue it, even if it proves costly to our neighbors. This is where the active side of greed comes in, the side addressed in the 7th Commandment. In the commandment against stealing, Luther notes the more obvious violations, but then he goes in a different direction, closely critiquing economic practices that harmed people in poverty , particularly in the marketplace. He writes,

Daily the poor are defrauded. New burdens and high prices are imposed. Everyone misuses the market in his own willful, conceited, arrogant way, as if it were his right and privilege to sell his goods as dearly as he pleases without a word of criticism.

Luther was not necessarily opposed to the market or to the emerging capitalism in his day. But he was concerned that the market was providing legitimacy to the practices of greed. He took issue with the “gentleman swindlers,” who “sit in office chairs and are called great lords and honorable, good citizens, and yet with a great show of legality rob and steal.” For Luther, idolatrous greed was at the root of unjust economic practices that left people mired in poverty throughout Germany. Indeed, he called for government regulation of the economy, writing that “[princes and magistrates] should be alert and resolute enough to establish and maintain order in all areas of trade and commerce in order that the poor may not be burdened and oppressed…”

Thus, Luther saw the two commandments tied together. The idolatry of wealth led to the sin of theft; the sin of theft revealed the idolatry of wealth. True faith, then, is tied closely to economic justice.

So, what?

Faith is not a private devotion, or merely intellectual assent to a set of beliefs. Faith is a living, breathing, life-shaping reality moving within us. If our faith is something we can set aside as we enter other spheres of life, as we move from pew to home to voting booth to office. Uncovering our faith, our “ultimate concern,” means closely examining how our faith shapes our daily practices, especially, for Luther, our economic practices. Economic injustice is not merely a sin of greed but rather a revelation of idolatry, if we are taking Luther seriously. True faith moves us into deeper relationships with our neighbors, not competition against them.

What is particularly interesting is that these teachings don’t come in some minor treatise on the economy and money, but rather right smack in the Large Catechism, the very instructional guide for the faith that Luther believed should be read “daily” by Christians. Contrary to what so many generations of Lutherans since have said, there is a clear and undeniable link between faith and justice here. Idolatry leads to unjust practices; true faith leads to just practices.

With this, we can start to get a better perspective on the Reformation and why it continues to be so important. This movement begun 500 years and one day ago was not merely an internal debate about theology but a protest against the economic injustice bred by idolatrous theology. For Luther, if faith is to mean anything, it must have meaning not only within the church, but within the home, within the public square, and yes, within the market. The Reformation, perhaps, was not just about crafting a more accurate theology but also about participating in God’s building of a more just world.

499 years and 364 days later, how are we doing?

 

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Top Ten Quotes about Hunger and Poverty: Counting Down to the 500th, #4 and #5

 

Nearly 500 years ago, the young monk Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to a church door in Wittenberg, Germany, and kicked off the movement that would become the Protestant Reformation. The theological disputes that followed have been well-documented over the centuries, but what the Reformation meant for the church’s witness in the midst of hunger and poverty is often forgotten. In this series leading up to October 31, 2017, we will take a deeper look at the Reformation’s importance for the church’s social ministry – and the important work to which people of faith are called by the gospel.

Today, our two quotes highlight Luther’s understanding of Jesus Christ. At first glance, they might seem contrary to each other. But as we’ll see below, they reveal Luther’s complex understanding. If  you are interested in learning more about Luther’s teachings below, keep an eye out for ELCA World Hunger’s 2018 Lenten study, “Faces of Christ,” coming soon!

Fun fact: The name “Lutheran” was first used in a derogatory way by Johann Eck in 1519 to describe the “heresy” of Luther’s teachings.

 

#5 – “We were in need before God and lacked God’s mercy. Hence, as our heavenly Father has in Christ freely come to our aid, we also ought to help our neighbor through our body and its works, and each one should become as it were a Christ to the other…”

#4 – “God says, ‘I do not choose to come to you in my majesty and in the company of angels but in the guise of a poor beggar asking for bread…I want you to know that I am the one who is suffering hunger and thirst.”

Quote #5 comes from Luther’s famous treatise, “The Freedom of a Christian” (also sometimes called “On Christian Liberty.”) The second comes from his commentary on the Gospel of John. Together, they present two different ways of understanding Jesus and our relationship to him. In the first, the Christian is meant to represent or reveal Christ to the neighbor. In the second, the neighbor in need – the one facing hunger or poverty – represents or reveals Christ to the Christian. Luther didn’t see a contradiction here, even though there seems to be a subtle, yet important, difference. Luther saw these representations as related.

What Does This Mean?

The two quotes reveal different sides of the relationship between Christ, the Christian, and the neighbor. Luther believed that Christians should imitate Jesus in service to their neighbors. In fact, he compared true Christians to “little Christs,” acting out of love in service to their neighbors. Second, Luther believed that Christ was revealed in the neighbor, especially the most vulnerable neighbors – those facing poverty, disease, or hunger. Christians are called to both “be” like Christ and to look for Christ in others.

The first aspect reaches back to a previous blog in this series, where we saw that authentic Christian freedom is freedom for service of the neighbor. There is a reciprocity expected of people saved by grace: as we have been saved by God’s grace, so, too, are we to act with mercy, love, and justice toward our neighbors, without thought to their merit. In this way, Luther believed, Christians are called to use Christ as the model in their relationships with neighbors. What is Christ like? Merciful, gracious, bold in service, selfless, and so on. The qualities Christ embodied in his action on behalf of humanity are the qualities Christians are to embody in their service of one another.

Of course, there is no sense in Luther that this is going to be a perfect representation. It’s not meant to be. Grace saves us, but it doesn’t make us perfect. But the hope is that by using our freedom in this way, we can reflect God working in and through us. This isn’t a saving act, and we have to keep that in mind. It isn’t about saving our neighbors. Christians aren’t “heroines.” But we are meant to be mirrors, reflecting the grace that animates our world and works good through us. By imitating Christ, we participate in the revelation of grace in our world.

On the other hand, Christians are called not just to reflect God’s grace but also to be on the look out for it. Luther had an honest view of the world. Certainly, there is sin and evil to confront and dismantle when possible. But the world was also filled with grace and marked by the work of God. Anticipating more modern perspectives on Christian service, Luther saw the neighbor not merely as the object of a Christian’s good works but also as a revelation of Christ in the world. As much as Christians are called to “love and serve” the neighbor, so too, are they called to see the face of Christ within the neighbor.

This was particularly true of the neighbor in need. As his commentary on John suggests, Luther believed that, since God chose to come “in the guise of a poor beggar” in the incarnation, God continues to be revealed wherever people are in need.

In one of his lesser-known Christmas sermons, Luther captures this in an allegory of Jesus in the manger:

But what it is to find Christ in such poverty, and what his swaddling clothes and manger signify, are explained in the previous Gospel; that his poverty teaches how we should find him in our neighbors, the lowliest and the most needy; [and] that in actual life we should incline to the needy…

This is a striking step away from earlier interpretations in Christianity, which portrayed people in need merely as objects of Christian charity. (I’m thinking of you, Shepherd of Hermas.) Instead, what we find in Luther’s writings is the belief that Christians seek Christ among their neighbors, especially in their moments of need.

So, what?

Luther’s twinned understanding of Christ offers some insights to us today. Clearly, there is a distinct call to imitate Christ in service to the neighbor. Following Christ means more than imitating him in private devotion to God; it means taking Christ as the model for our relationships with our neighbors.

More than this, though, as Christians pursue service and love of neighbor, we are likewise called to see our neighbors as participants in the revelation of God. This is very different from approaching service as if the ones doing the service are the ones “bringing God” to people in need. Rather, for Luther, it is the neighbor in need who can reveal Christ to the one doing the service.

This speaks to the model of accompaniment that shapes the ministries of ELCA World Hunger. In accompanying our neighbors, we remain open to the presence of God in and among those whom we encounter. This fosters mutuality and openness to one another, forming service as a relationship with rather than a doing for. It dismantles models of ministry rooted in one-sided help and reshapes ministry as building the mutual relationships through which both giver and receiver participate in the revelation of God to each other and to the world.

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Free Webinar on Churches and Copyright

 

One of the questions churches ask is: what does the church need to know so as not to have problems with copyright? It is an important question and it is a complicated one, too. Churches often print or display content for education, to inform the congregation of events, and as an aid in worship. When they do, if any of that information is under copyright, the church may be liable for copyright infringement. While this might not seem like a big issue, and while it may be very unlikely that a church will ever get caught and punished for that infringement, the fines are huge, and the consequences are real.

For churches with questions about how to comply with copyright law, Augsburg Fortress has an archived webinar on copyright: Churches and Copyright: How to be a weekend publisher without going to prison. The webinar, presented by Augsburg Fortress’ Copyright Specialist Michael Moore (pictured), takes about an hour, and deals with copyrights, licenses, and the rights and responsibilities of churches when it comes to how to license content the church would like to use, but which is under copyright.

The webinar is available on demand at www.afwebinars.org under the heading “Youth and Adult On Demand” or directly here. Select “register now” and enter your information then select “view” to take you to the webinar. Happy viewing!

 

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Top Ten Quotes About Hunger and Poverty: Counting Down to the 500th – #6

 

Nearly 500 years ago, the young monk Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to a church door in Wittenberg, Germany, and kicked off the movement that would become the Protestant Reformation. The theological disputes that followed have been well-documented over the centuries, but what the Reformation meant for the church’s witness in the midst of hunger and poverty is often forgotten. In this series leading up to October 31, 2017, we will take a deeper look at the Reformation’s importance for the church’s social ministry – and the important work to which people of faith are called by the gospel.

Obviously, the Reformation was more than just Martin Luther. So, today, we are looking at a quote from another great Reformer, Andreas Bodenstein von Karlstadt, with thanks to the eminent Reformation historian Carter Lindberg, for lifting up this important figure in his book Beyond Charity: Reformation Initiatives for the Poor. Quotes from Karlstadt in this post are from Lindberg’s book and earlier translation.

#6 – “We should not tolerate but banish [beggars]; not in an unreasonable and tyrannical manner but rather with willing help so that we Christians shall allow no one to come into such poverty and need that he is afflicted and caused to go and cry out after bread.”

Andreas Bodenstein was born in Karlstadt around 1480. He came to be known more commonly by the city of his birth, Karlstadt.  A theologian by training, Karlstadt became dean of the theology faculty at Wittenberg in 1512, five years before Luther posted the 95 Theses. In 1516, he became familiar with Luther’s teachings in a debate in which Karlstadt argued against a student supporting Luther’s views. Over time, though, he came to embrace many of Luther’s reforms, becoming one of the first priests to get married. It didn’t all go smoothly, though, and Luther and Karlstadt often disagreed.

Karlstadt was officially excommunicated from the Catholic Church in 1520, along with Luther. He spent most of his remaining decades moving from place-to-place, at times preaching and at times working as a farmer or merchant, in between regular bouts of disagreement with Luther and other reformers. In 1541, he died of the plague.

What Does This Mean?

Begging took at least two forms in Europe in the 1500s. First, there were folks who were poor by circumstance. These folks were unemployed, underemployed, or often, crippled by debt. In order to get the food they needed to survive and take care of their families, they sought the charity of their neighbors. Second, though, were various groups of mendicants, men and women who, as members of religious orders, took vows of poverty and were poor by choice. Mendicants relied on the charity of other Christians as they lived in and traveled through the towns of Europe.

Luther, Karlstadt, and other reformers had some major issues with the mendicants. Primarily, the difference was theological. The mendicant orders saw their chosen poverty as a good work that moved them along the path toward holiness. They then shared a piece of this holiness with other Christians through the charitable donations these other Christians made to them. For Luther and Karlstadt, though, this practice was, in Karlstadt’s words, “unchristian, fraudulent, and noxious” and ought to be banned.

Key to Karlstadt’s critique of the mendicants was his impression that the religious brotherhoods that practiced begging were deceiving people who were poor by circumstance. He argued that “they injure the poor with their demands for cheese, corn, bread, beer, wine and testament, and sorts of things.” Rather than work to earn their bread by their own labors, the mendicants, according to Karlstadt, were deceptively collecting it from people in poverty, who believed that their giving would merit God’s favor. Thus, both Luther and Karlstadt preached an end to begging and reserved special vitriol for the mendicants.

When it came to people who were poor by circumstance, however, the reformers were far more sympathetic. Knowing the tremendous economic challenges many in Europe faced at the time, Karlstadt and Luther urged the church to undertake coordinated efforts to address what we might call the root causes of poverty today – unemployment, medical care, debt, and lack of education. Beyond this, Karlstadt also argued that civil authorities bore responsibility toward people in poverty. Certainly, he argued, those who can work ought to work. But, he added, the civil authorities ought to “give them aid and help to begin their craft or work.”

We see in Karlstadt – and in Luther – an emphasis on addressing poverty at the root, as well as the need for a comprehensive response that included the church and the government in ending poverty and hunger.

This was nothing new at the time Karlstadt was writing (1522). In fact, right about this same time, the church in Wittenberg began the “common chest,” a literal chest that held donations to be used for poverty alleviation. In addition to the immediate relief needed to make sure people didn’t go to bed hungry, the chest was used to finance occupational retraining for people who were underemployed, no-interest loans to artisans, health care, and support for orphans. Luther wrote the preface to the ordinance establishing this first common chest and expressed his wholehearted support for the effort. Despite their many disagreements, he and Karlstadt at least concurred on this; in a city of Christians, there ought to be no begging because in a city of Christians, there ought to be no poverty.

So, what?

Karlstadt and Luther had to carefully distinguish between mendicants and people in poverty. Their distinction wasn’t based on who deserved charity and who did not, but rather based on the calling of the church and the tenets of Christian faith. Mendicant begging was rooted in the notion that charitable giving was meritorious, that humans could, by the effort of a few coins or loaves, curry God’s favor. Nothing could be further from the gospel truth, for the reformers. Serving the neighbor was not something a Christian did because it earned them a place in heaven. Rather, it was a response to God’s gift of salvation, extended to humanity despite our inability to earn it. No work, no matter how charitable, paves a path to the sweet hereafter.

However, that doesn’t mean that Christians have no vocation toward their neighbors. On the contrary, it made seeking the well-being of the neighbor that much more profound. Consider this: if we believe that the primary purpose of charity is to earn our salvation, and we can do this with just a few coins here and there, we are likely to engage in charity without much thought to the good of the neighbor. Our primary thought will be our own good, the good that comes from our action.

But, if we believe that our salvation is secured and that because of this, we respond to God’s call to love and serve the neighbor and to seek the neighbor’s well-being, we are drawn a bit deeper, into looking at the sources of their need. This is precisely the place Karlstadt and Luther went. What makes begging necessary for so many people? Their challenge to the church and to people of faith individually was to not merely respond to the suffering of their neighbors but to end it. And that means devising systematic approaches to ending poverty and hunger, including working with civil authorities, whose responsibilities included ensuring that everyone in their realm was fed and sheltered.

Karlstadt’s quote points to this profound take on poverty alleviation. Indeed, the Reformation itself has many similar examples to draw on. It hints, too, at questions we ought to ask about our responses to poverty today. Are we working to ensure, as Karlstadt suggested, that poverty should be eliminated such that there is no need for begging? Or, is our charity an attempt at currying the favor of God, without a thought to ending the suffering of our neighbors for good? Profound questions, still today.

 

 

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Top Ten Quotes about Hunger and Poverty: Counting Down to the 500th with Martin Luther – #7 and 8

 

Burial of Victims of the Plague in Tournai, 14th cent.

Nearly 500 years ago, the young monk Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to a church door in Wittenberg, Germany, and kicked off the movement that would become the Protestant Reformation. The theological disputes that followed have been well-documented over the centuries, but what the Reformation meant for the church’s witness in the midst of hunger and poverty is often forgotten. In this series leading up to October 31, 2017, we will take a deeper look at the Reformation’s importance for the church’s social ministry – and the important work to which people of faith are called by the gospel.

Throughout the week, we’ll look at different quotes, counting down to the 500th Anniversary. Today, we are doubling down, with two nuggets of wisdom from Luther. Without further ado…

#8 – “According to this passage [Matthew 25:41-46] we are bound to each other in such a way that no one may forsake the other in his distress but is obliged to assist and help him as he himself would like to be helped.”

In August 1527, a most unwelcome visitor arrived in Wittenberg: the bubonic plague. This deadly bacterial infection ignited fear and panic wherever it was found, and with even a brief survey of the symptoms and prognosis for victims, one can see why. While today, antibiotics can be effective in treating the disease, for medieval peoples, the plague meant certain death. The risk of catching the highly contagious disease bred fear within communities. In the 14th Century, during the “Black Death,” European Jews were blamed for the spread of the disease and persecuted, even to the point of being attacked and killed as scapegoats.

When plague struck Wittenberg, the university closed up shop and moved, first to Jena, then to Schlieben, at the behest of Elector John. Luther, though, chose to stay and minister to the victims in Wittenberg. His pastor, Johannes Bugenhagen, stayed, too. Luther and Bugenhagen worked tirelessly until the plague dissipated in November 1527.

That same year, the plague struck Silesia, and Johann Hess, a Reformation leader there, wrote to Luther asking for his take on the question on a lot of pastors’ minds: can we flee from the plague, like the Wittenberg folks? Or, do we need to stay, like Luther and Bugenhagen? It took Luther a while to get back to Hess, but he did, writing the letter from which the quote above is taken. The “official” title of the letter is “Whether One May Flee a Deadly Plague.”

This leads us to our next quote from a very different writing of the Good Doctor Luther:

#7 – “Let us also be generous [as Abraham was], and let us open the door to poor brethren and receive them with a joyful countenance. If we are deceived now and then, well and good. In spite of this our good will is demonstrated to God, and the kind act…is not lost on Christ, in whose name we are generous. Hence just as we should not intentionally and knowingly support the idleness of slothful people, so, when we have been deceived, we should not give up this eagerness to do good to others.”

Luther’s lectures on the bible are filled with insights about the meaning of the Word of God for people of faith, and his analysis of Genesis is no different (though certainly not without problems.) Here, Luther is reflecting o Genesis 18. Abraham is sweating out a hot day near the entrance of his tent when three strangers pass by. He greets them, offering bread and water. Unbeknownst to Abraham at first, among the three strangers is the Lord, who in this chapter, promises Abraham and Sarah a son before heading toward Sodom and Gomorrah.

What Does This Mean?

In Luther’s perspective, the hospitality Abraham offered is a model for Christians still. Indeed, hospitality is no small thing in scripture but was a significant response to the stranger in one’s midst. Like many cultures today, there were prescribed behaviors for receiving a guest. Later on in scripture, this will become even more important for the Hebrews freed from slavery in Egypt. As “strangers in a strange land” themselves, they are called to remember their dependence on God and the care they received while vulnerable. As the recipients of God’s gracious “hospitality,” they were duty-bound to return this grace to their neighbors, friend or stranger. When they fall short, God through the prophets often reminds them of God’s care for them while in Egypt and during their long Exodus.

This isn’t that different from the basic thrust of Lutheran ethics, which above all else, is an ethics of memory. As we are saved by God’s grace in the midst of our own neediness, so too are we called to respond graciously and abundantly to our neighbors in their need. For Luther, this was a key mark of a life of faith. People of faith are saved by God, and thus have duties both to God and to their neighbors. The freedom we have in Christ is not a freedom of licentiousness and liberty, but rather a purposeful freedom.

We are freed from and for: freed from the powers of sin, death, and the Law; and freed for bold, loving service of God and neighbor.

This is the same ground on which Luther builds his response to the plague. To Hess, he cautions that the first thing to consider before packing up is the good of the neighbor. Will the absence of those who take flight leave neighbors without sufficient care? If all the pastors leave, who will minister to the people who must stay? He draws a telling comparison: how would you react if the person suffering from the plague were Christ? Would you not stay? Drawing on Matthew 25, Luther argues that Hess and others should act as if it were Christ suffering the plague in their midst. To flee from the neighbor is to flee from Christ.

He goes on to admit the dangers that those who stay might face, but reminds them, too, of the promises of God, which should give courage in the face of death. To flee without a thought to the neighbor is to deny the promise of God, and the person who does so “violates all of God’s law and is guilty of the murder of his neighbor whom he abandons.” If remembering God’s grace doesn’t get you to stay, Luther suggests, then perhaps the Law will.

The fear that Hess and his compatriots felt was real and palpable; but so, too, should their faith be, says Luther. And this should draw them toward their suffering neighbor, not away from them.

In the lecture on Genesis, Luther likewise addresses a common concern in his day: how to practice charity at a time when “professional beggars” were mixed in with people whose poverty was not merely a choice? Luther reminds his audience that service of the neighbor is done in the name of Christ, in response to the gift of grace we received in our own need. Thus, the call to service of the neighbor is rooted in something deeper than the rational discernment of authentic poverty.

So, What?

So often, when it comes to service of our neighbors, we make choices based on the intersection of two criteria: the neighbor’s merit and our own comfort or security. If we are going to offer charity, we want to give to people who “really deserve” it. It’s one of the reasons it’s so easy to drum up donations if the focus is on helping children. Who could be more “deserving” than an innocent child? But Luther upsets our notions of “merit” by reminding us that we are saved by grace, the free gift of God, apart from our merit. In fact, that free gift comes in the midst of our downright unworthiness, extended to us in love and mercy despite the fact that we didn’t – indeed, could never – deserve it.

Even if they “might” deserve our help, so often, too, our service is constrained by our own fears or insecurities. In reading Luther’s writing on the plague, I am reminded of the early AIDS crisis, when fear was given free reign in our communities and limited efforts to accompany the disease’s early victims. I think, too, now of the continuing stigma surrounding HIV and AIDS and the ways responses continue to be constrained or, more likely, avoided, despite the deeper, more balanced knowledge we have today about how HIV is spread.

Luther is clear that accompanying our neighbors sometimes means taking risks, not necessarily because our neighbors are dangerous, but because the deep needs of our neighbors and ourselves are often symptoms of vulnerability and uncertainty. “A man who will not help of support others unless he can do so without affecting his safety or his property,” Luther writes, “will never help his neighbor.” Sometimes, that risk might be direct, like the risk of contact with bubonic plague. Other times, though, the risk may be more subtle – the risk of losing social status, the perceived risk of crime in economically disadvantaged neighborhoods. Sometimes, the risk can be profound – the risk of working to undo our own wealth and privilege in pursuit of justice.

The risks are great, Luther writes, but anything less is a denial of God’s promise and our calling. The same was true for Abraham. To reach out to the passing stranger is to respond to God’s call to bold, loving hospitality; to accompany a neighbor even in the midst of uncertainty or risk is to trust in God’s promise.

And who knows, maybe by so doing, we will discover angels in our midst. But if even if we don’t, our call is not find angels in our midst, but to find ourselves among our neighbors, to uncover what binds us together. And to see God at work within.

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Top Ten Quotes about Hunger and Poverty: Counting Down to the 500th with Martin Luther

 

Woodcut depicting an indulgence seller, ca. 1510

 

Nearly 500 years ago, the young monk Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to a church door in Wittenberg, Germany, and kicked off the movement that would become the Protestant Reformation. The theological disputes that followed have been well-documented over the centuries, but what the Reformation meant for the church’s witness in the midst of hunger and poverty is often forgotten. In this series leading up to October 31, 2017, we will take a deeper look at the Reformation’s importance for the church’s social ministry – and the important work to which people of faith are called by the gospel.

Throughout the week, we’ll look at different quotes, counting down to the 500th Anniversary. Today, we have an oft-neglected barb from Luther’s 95 Theses:

#9 – Thesis #45 – “Christians are to be taught that he who sees a needy man and passes him by, yet gives his money for indulgences, does not buy papal indulgences but God’s wrath.”

Yep, Luther was big on God’s wrath. Sin and its penalties were very concrete for Christians in Luther’s day, and he was no exception. In fact, it was this fear of God’s wrath that contributed to Luther’s excessive use of the Catholic sacrament of confession, much to the reported annoyance of some his confessors. On the other hand, one can scarcely imagine the freedom Luther felt when confronted by grace. I like to think that some of his brutal passion against the Church was in defense of other poor souls who, like him, had lived in fear of a vengeful God.

But that doesn’t stop Luther from invoking God’s fiery anger when convenient, especially when it comes to church practices that he viewed as theologically incorrect and harmful. Indulgences were at the top of his early list.

What Does This Mean?

An indulgence was, essentially, a certificate that reduced the time one had to spend in purgatory before entering heaven. These weren’t a new development in Luther’s day but had been around for quite some time. One of the earliest reports of indulgences was in 1099, when Pope Urban II granted indulgences to the soldiers who traveled to the Holy Land as part of the Crusades. In their original form, indulgences reduced the amount of penance a sinner had to do to cleanse themselves from sin. They were granted most often to Catholics who had done some great service for the Church.

But in Luther’s day, the practice of indulgences took a dark turn, in large part to a man named Albrecht (check him out there on the left.) Albrecht became an elector (sort of a combination of bishop and political ruler) of Mainz in Germany. There were costs associated with this promotion, though, and Albrecht had to take out a loan to pay for vestments and other things appropriate for his new seat (and, one can imagine, a pretty righteous potluck for guests at the celebration of his appointment.) Albrecht took out a loan from a powerful banking family called the Fuggers.

The Fuggers were, perhaps, one of the wealthiest families in history. They had holdings throughout Europe and the Middle East, and everyone from the Pope to the Emperor was in debt to them. Greg Steinmetz has argued that it was no coincidence that in 1515, Pope Leo X “revised” the Catholic Church’s teaching on usury, allowing for the first time in Christian history the collection of interest on loans. Pope Leo himself was a beneficiary of the Fuggers’ practices.

Anyway, back to Albrecht. So, Albrecht needed money, and if you needed money, you went to the Fuggers. (That’s Jakob Fugger in the painting below.) This came with hefty interest payments, though, which means Albrecht needed more money to pay back the loans. Enter: indulgences. Albrecht employed a salesman named Johan Tetzel to travel throughout Europe selling these indulgences as a way of paying back his loan, all the while promising buyers that they or their recently departed loved ones would spend less time in purgatory as a result. Pope Leo X, no stranger to extravagant spending, also engaged in the trade, using indulgences to raise money to build St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.

“I made enough money to buy Miami. No, like, literally. And by Miami, I mean Europe.”

 

Luther, like many of his contemporaries, knew what was going on. He saw poor peasants spending money on indulgences rather than on feeding their families. (Which was understandable. Why feed your child today, if you could buy their eternal salvation for all their tomorrows?) He also saw wealthy people flinging money at indulgences instead of using their largesse to support their neighbors in need. At the same time, he came to understand the truth of justification by grace, the belief that humans can not earn – or purchase – their own salvation. Salvation, Luther saw in scripture, was and always would be a gift of God, not a reward from the Pope. Finally, enough was enough, and Luther posted his 95 Theses – formally titled Disputation on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences – and kicked off the Reformation.

The theological reasons behind Luther’s opposition to indulgences are more familiar to most. But what has been muted in history are the economic complaints Luther had against the system. Here was the church, defrauding (in Luther’s mind) poor peasants out of their meager earnings in order to line the pockets of wealthy cardinals, popes, and the bankers to whom they were indebted. He also saw the church encouraging people to throw their money at building grand cathedrals while their neighbors starved. Luther saw bad theology being used to justify greed, all at the expense of people in need.

So What?

As much as we focus on the important notions of “grace alone,” “faith alone,” and others in this Reformation Anniversary season, it’s important to remember that Luther was driven not just by a desire for more scripturally-attuned theology, but also by the exploitation bad theology made possible. It makes one wonder, where today might we hear “theology” masquerading as a cover for greed or exploitation?

Part of the heritage of the Reformation is the belief that true theology – theology that authentically reflects the witness of scripture – is theology that calls people of faith to meet the needs of their neighbors, inasmuch as God desires the well-being of all. Ironically, then, if we want to discern whether our theology reflects God revealed in scripture, perhaps one good test might be asking, “How does my theology affect my neighbor? Does it encourage service of my neighbor? Or, does it justify their exploitation?” This is the flip-side of Luther’s 95 Theses. Indulgences were not merely a theological, theoretical problem. They were a social problem that enriched the few while impoverishing the many. If our theology does the same, perhaps it is time for another Reformation.

 

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Unexpected Learning at the Gathering

– Debra Porowski 

One of the greatest lessons I learned at a Gathering happened in Detroit, in a small quiet hallway in the Cobo Center. On Friday night while we were walking back from Ford Field back to our buses, I fell and twisted my ankle. By the time I got to the hotel,  my ankle was swollen and bruising. We had our Practice Justice Day the following day.  I knew there was no way I could walk onto a site with them that would require me to be on my feet and working. Maybe we would be assigned something easy that I could do sitting down? Then it hit me. If we got to do something in where I could physically take part, it wasn’t what I knew my kids were looking forward to doing.   

We got our assignment the next morning and sure enough, the kids were going out to the streets of Detroit to fix up and paint houses. There would be power tools, loose boards, and lots of manual labor; nothing I could do on one foot. I hugged each kid goodbye and sent them with my adult leaders out to participate in an experience that would stay with them forever. After a visit to the first aid station and all fixed up with an ace bandage and lots of ice, I found a bench in a quiet hallway in the Cobo Center. As I was sitting there, another adult leader from another church (probably from another state) came up to me and asked me what I was doing. I explained that my youth were off having this amazing day and I was sitting there. The adult leader asked if she could pray with me. It was the most beautiful thing anyone could have done for me in that moment.

I sat and cried while she prayed for my youth—for their safety and for blessings on the work they were doing. She also prayed for me, for healing, for strength for my ankle, and for my broken heart.  

I learned a huge lesson that day. As adults we accompany the youth to the Gathering and we are ultimately there to support them in their faith journey.  My youth experienced God in the houses they fixed and painted, and I experienced God in the hallway.  

In 2018, I am happy to be serving as a Synod Gathering Coordinator to help other adults to find the balance between the responsibilities and the rewards of the Gathering.

If you approach your role with faith and a little flexibility, you too will find the Gathering as a highlight on your own faith journey—in very unexpected places.

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