Today’s post is by Leslie Scanlon, Pastor at Grace Lutheran in Chesapeake, VA.

It was a cold winter morning (normal by New England standards), there were a couple inches of snow piled up on the side of the streets and sidewalks, and I was lugging a little table, a plastic box of supplies, and a sign to the local commuter rail station.  That is where the people are; that is where the gospel—“remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return”—needs to be heard.

In 2014 I collaborated with two ecumenical colleagues in town to provide “Ashes to Go” at the train station.  We received a variety of reactions to our presence—avoidance, questions, intrigue, and thanks.  Most commuters did not take us up on receiving ashes and prayer, but the first time of anything new can be intimidating.  So we resolved to try this public witness again next year.

In 2015, the temperature was lower, the snow was higher, and more colleagues planned to join me, but ended up not making it.  I started again with my table, sign, and ashes at the train station with similar interactions.  However, later I moved over to the local university, where I was serving as the Protestant Campus Chaplain.  The Dean’s office provided me with hot beverages (coffee, cider, and hot chocolate) to hand out while also hawking my ashes, which was a great way to break the ice and start conversations with passersby.  Again though most did not end up wanting ashes or prayer, I had many staff and students thank me for being there since they did not think they were going to be otherwise able to participate in the ritual that day due to scheduling conflicts.

In 2016, after moving back to Virginia, sunrise on Ash Wednesday was warmer (not that my Southern blood allowed me to really appreciate it).  The congregation I serve in Chesapeake, Virginia does not have a centralized gathering spot for commuters, so I simply stood outside the church, again with my little table, ashes, hand warmers, and sign.  Some parishioners stood with me to pray with those who stopped by, and more stopped since they would not be able to make either of our worship services that day.
Providing “Ashes to Go” is not going to bring droves of new members through your door.  It is about meeting people where they are, showing that God is present in the hustle and bustle of daily life, and preaching the gospel even if people look at your sideways while you do.

To learn more or “share your site” visit http://ashestogo.org or check out the movement on Facebook (www.facebook.com/Ashes-to-Go-320854664624542/).

Today’s post is from John Weit, Program Director for Music in the ELCA.

On Feb. 19, many congregations will sing “Oh, Praise the Gracious Power” (Evangelical Lutheran Worship, #651) in response to the readings from Paul about Christ as our foundation (1 Cor. 3:10-11, 16-23) and Jesus command to love our enemies (Mt. 5:38-48).

Through the stanzas of Thomas Troeger’s hymn we give repeated praise to Christ described as “persistent truth,” “inclusive love,” “word of faith” and “tide of grace.” The beginning stanzas go on to show that Christ “gathers…strangers,” “eases…prejudice,” “claims us” and reveals “visions of a world at peace.” The assembly bids a common refrain: “We praise you Christ! Your cross has made us one!” The assembly sings the constant reminder that it is through the cross that Christ does these things. These words set to music and put on our lips are one way we respond with praise and engrain it in our hearts.

The hymn text and tune were both written in 1984 and many Lutherans began to learn it when it was included in “With One Voice” in 1995. The tune, CHRISTPRAISE RAY, is by composer Carol Doran, who has collaborated with Thomas Troeger on several hymns. Paul Westermeyer notes in the “Hymnal Companion to Evangelical Lutheran Worship” that the tune represents a cross in the melody as the first line descends and the second line ascends. At the beginning of each stanza we sing “Oh Praise” with an ascending melody, then at each refrain we ascend to sing “We praise,” then again to “you Christ” and one more time to a climatic note for “your cross.” Musically, the cross of Christ stands at the center of not only the text, but also the music.

If this hymn is not a part of your repertoire, I highly encourage learning it! The “Musicians Guide to Evangelical Lutheran Worship” aptly suggests that the assembly may simply learn the refrain first with a choir or soloists singing the verses. Then having the assembly sing the verses on subsequent occasions. Once the assembly knows the hymn, it could be sung in alternatum (assigning different stanzas to different voices, such as higher voices, lower voices, pulpit side, font side).

Today’s blog post is from Richard Graham, Bishop of the Metropolitan Washington, D.C. Synod.

The year after I graduated from college I had a Fulbright Fellowship to study in France. I was a student that year at the Faculty of Protestant Theology of the University of Strasbourg. Far away from home, I spent the year in classes with people who knew they wanted to be Lutheran pastors. Over the course of that time I realized I wanted to be one as well.

I was blessed with great worship experiences that year away. The beautiful cathedral of Strasbourg was warm and welcoming when I visited. I worshiped nearly every Sunday at St. Thomas, a medieval parish church that became Lutheran early in the Reformation and where Albert Schweitzer had played his earliest Bach-revival organ concerts. Most of my friends in Strasbourg spoke Alsatian, a German dialect I never mastered. But the public worship was in French, which I understood well enough to know I was hearing the gospel powerfully preached and prayed and sung by people who treated me with great kindness.

I also worshiped that year with the English-language community that gathered once a month. Strasbourg was the home of the Council of Europe, a big deal in those days. There were diplomats in town from Britain and Ireland, along with people there to do business, students like me and the occasional tourist. We met in the chapel of a local Roman Catholic religious order. Laypeople preached or one of my theology professors, who had studied in New York. We prayed and sang, and then chatted and drank coffee, in the language that was closest to my heart. People were very kind to me there too.

There was something powerful that year about worshiping in ways that required me to pay close attention. My French was never good enough for me to let my mind wander. And it was powerful, too, to worship in the language that let me relax. I hope this experience has made me more sensitive to the refugees and immigrants who come to this city, where so many worship in English somewhere in the morning, then gather to praise God in the afternoon in the language they brought from home.

And I hope that the welcome I received wherever I worshiped that year in Strasbourg is a welcome that everyone can feel in any of the churches for which I’m responsible. I pray that this is so.

We may be in a time of numerical decline among denominations, yet the church has a grand opportunity for spiritual deepening.  Now is the time to reclaim the traditional path of discipleship—through a faith formation process known as the Catechumenate.  This ancient/future way of learning and creating disciples invites us to hear one another’s stories in the light of God’s story.  It is a baptismal journey with Jesus that is life-giving and transforming—not only for individuals but for entire faith communities.

You are invited to experience this simple yet profound way of making disciples at a Training Institute being held May 4-6, 2017 in Arden, North Carolina.  The event for pastors, seminarians, and lay leaders is co-sponsored by Journey to Baptismal Living (NAAC) and the North Carolina Synod (ELCA).   Bring a team and be immersed in the movements and worship rites of the Catechumenate.  Every participant receives a training manual and free copy of Go Make Disciples: An Invitation to Baptismal Living (Augsburg Fortress) that will help you introduce this discipling process to your congregation.

The Lutheran Church of the Nativity in Arden—located near the Asheville airport—is hosting the training institute.  Because of a synodical grant, registration (including meals, program, and materials) is being offered at the low cost of $175 per person (or $125 to the first 25 people who register).  Housing is available at the discounted conference rate of $89 per night at the nearby Mountain Inn and Suites Airport Hotel—but rates are only guaranteed through April 4, 2017 by calling 828-684-0040.

Ready to welcome you in May are (left to right) Pastors Mark Fitzsimmons, Rachel Hoffman, and Greg Hoffman.

Full scholarships (including housing) are available for students/seminarians.  For more information contact Pastor Mark Fitzsimmons at mfitzsimmons@nativityarden.org or call 828-684-0352.  One can register online or download a brochure with registration form at the NAAC website: www.catechumenate.org.

 
Today’s blog post is from Ashley Dellagiacoma, Restart Pastor at KINDRED in Houston, TX.

+KINDRED is a one year old Restart Congregation that gathers weekly for dinner church in Houston, TX.  We meet in a historic building among a vibrant urban neighborhood that boasts some of the best restaurants in the city. Our people know good food, but still hunger for something more.

Preparation for worship starts early in the afternoon as one of our own chefs fire up anything from chicken tikka masala to collard greens and ham hocks. Our “altar guild” consists of 4-year-olds who help fold napkins and people sleeping on the streets who fill the communion cups. The truth is that worship has already begun. From setting the table to loading the dishwasher and everything between, we are proclaiming God’s presence and praise in this assembly and beyond it.

As +KINDRED, we understand the sacramental table to be a very long one. It starts at the cross and goes all the way out the doors to the church building.  We ring the old church bell, light our candles, and then immediately bless and break the bread of Holy Communion. We hear the invitation “this is God’s table and all are welcome – children and skeptic, sinner and saint – we are ready to begin the meal.” The bread is whatever would normally accompany the meal – corn tortillas, croissants, or even red-velvet cake on Pentecost. It still holds a special place in the liturgy, but leads us into a sacramental way of being. As we fill our plates and share lively conversation across the table, we discover Christ meeting us in the ordinary.  We learn to see Jesus in ordinary bread that goes beyond the sanctuary walls.  So during the rest of the week when someone sits down for a taco with a friend, the tortillas on their table reminds and connects them to something bigger. After engaging scripture, prayer, and song we end our time together with the blessing of the cup just as Jesus and the first followers did. Everyone serves and everyone is served, as we share this simple wine around the table.

When people walk in for the first time, they are delightfully surprised that a space can retain its beautiful stained glass window and dark wood-worked ceilings while also accommodate rough-hewn tables and eclectic chairs.  The ancient and modern elements come together to reflect that this is something sacred and also accessible, familiar, and inviting.  They leave having been fed, body and soul.

Today’s blog post is from Kevin Strickland, Assistant to the Presiding Bishop and Executive for Worship for the ELCA, and is the longer form of the Worship E-news greeting for January 2017.

 “Master, now you are dismissing your servant^[e] in peace,
according to your word;
for my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
 a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel.” (Luke 2:29-32)

In this season after Epiphany, how can Simeon’s song continue to carry us through the cadences of life’s darkness and bring hopeful light? Simeon’s “song”, has become one of our own. Many know these words well in the Latin, Nunc Dimittis, which means, “now send away,” the hymn that is sometimes sung after Communion or interestingly it is also what we sing as part of the service of Compline—the “going to bed” liturgy.

As we close our day, we sing, “Lord, now you let your servant go in peace; your word has been fulfilled. My own eyes have seen the salvation which you have prepared in the sight of every people: a light to reveal you to the nations and the glory of your people Israel.”

What have our eyes seen before going to bed? It’s usually the common ordinary stuff of life: dirty dishes, endless e-mails, which kid forgot to do their science experiment and waits until bedtime to tell you, paper work, bills, dirty clothes that seem to never end, aging parents that require more attention, etc, etc, etc.

What have our eyes seen before going to bed?

Is it the news that once again someone has been shot, or another terror attack, or another political slam made from one side of the aisle to the other.

What have our eyes seen before going to bed?

Is it the test results that reveal cancer, or the loved one who has to go into assistance because her memory is no more, or have our eyes looked into the eyes of another for the last time, as in peace and joy they now depart?

Is God’s salvation to be seen in such common, ordinary, even mundane things of life? As well, is God’s salvation to be seen in all of life’s good and bad, joy and sadness, celebration and mourning?

What have eyes seen when we gather as the assembly of God in worship? There are people who are vast and different. People who bring with them into this space a host of issues and yet in our brokenness as a body we are made whole by Christ own. Is God’s salvation to be seen in our gathering?

What have eyes seen in sacrament of Holy Communion? It is around simple things that we gather: bread and wine with one another. Is God’s salvation to be seen in this?

What have eyes seen in the sacrament of Holy Baptism? It is around simple things like water that we gather with one another? Is God’s salvation to be seen in this?

God is indeed present in an infant, in bread and wine, in water, in each other, in our gathering, in the ordinary and extra-ordinary events of every day life. Where God is present, there salvation is for those with the faith to see more than just the obvious or what is transparent.

Could it be that Simeon sings the starting notes of the canticle of all of our lives? Could it be that Simeon reminds us that we behold God’s salvation each and every time we behold the face of another that God created and each and every time we gather to watch over as another saint of God’s departs in peace?

Let us continue to sing with Simeon. Let us continue seeing the salvation of God that is before our very eyes each and every day with each and every person, until at our last we sing and we rejoice with Simeon and all the saints: “Lord, now you let your servant go in peace; your word has been fulfilled. My own eyes have seen the salvation which you have prepared in the sight of every people: a light to reveal you to the nations and the glory of your people Israel.”

May it be so! Amen.