Before the snow hit this past weekend, I noticed a tiny crocus flower sticking its head through a pile of dead leaves remaining from last fall. Leaning down, this simple sign of spring – of new life coming through the dead and decaying matter from last year – made me smile. It gave me hope that, alas, spring would come…soon. 

This past Sunday in worship, it’s as if we were given a tiny crocus flower sticking its head through the barrenness of Lent. In our Scripture readings, we heard two stories foreshadowing the coming life of Easter. In our Old Testament reading, Ezekiel prophesy to the valley of dry bones, and suddenly the bones were connected together, with sinews covering them. And with the breath of the Spirit, the bones came to life, walking on their own two feet. And in our Gospel reading, Jesus calls Lazarus to come forth from his tomb. Though still bound by strips of cloth, Lazarus experiences the resurrection that Jesus himself will experience. 

Both of these readings stare death in the face. And at the same time, both of these readings offer the hope, and the promise, of new life. 

So before launching into Holy Week next Sunday, take this last full week of Lent to take stock of what’s around you: where do you notice signs of death, and where do you experience “death”? And, where do you notice signs of resurrection, and where are you experiencing “resurrection”?

Much as we’d like to only focus on resurrection, death and resurrection go hand-in-hand. So challenge yourself to embrace both this week, as we hold onto the hope that indeed, Easter (and spring!) are coming soon. 

This past Sunday we heard the story of the healing of a man born blind. What awesome news! Or, one would think. But as we found out in our Gospel passage, after receiving his newfound sight, this man’s testimony was dismissed by everyone around him, leading him to be driven out of community.

Each time I read this story in preparation for Sunday, I empathized more and more with this man. Putting myself in his shoes, I recognized the true gift that Jesus had offered him. But I also recognized the disdain that this man received simply from the assumptions, judgments, and long-held beliefs that the Pharisees, the disciples, and his neighbors held so dearly. 

I’d like to say that I’m better than those people who ostracized this man. But I also know my sin. In the words of Peggy Hahn, “We can be so fast to resist someone who doesn’t match our own worldview or who questions our own formation. We all know that feeling of ‘don’t rock the boat’, or ‘move the cheese’, or whatever analogy you prefer.” (click here to read Peggy’s full blog).

Like the characters in our Gospel story, we may have (seemingly) valid reasons for our resistance to a new idea, a new perspective, or a new experience of God. But the longer we uphold our assumptions and long-held beliefs as something that cannot – in any way shape or form – be changed, the longer we inhibit the healing that God desires to give to us, to our world, to our church, and to our neighbors. 

So this week, as we continue to dwell in this passage, consider what assumptions you carry. Where did those assumptions originate? Do any of those assumptions inhibit you, or your neighbor, from life? And if you’ve recognized that some assumptions were misguided, what caused you to change your mind? 

This past Sunday, we heard the story of Nicodemus seeking Jesus in the middle of the night. Under the cloak and comfort of darkness, Nicodemus had the courage to honestly seek Jesus, to ask questions, and to allow his perspective to be changed…leading him to begin again. 

As Nicodemus left that encounter, much must’ve been going through his mind. But one concrete choice Nicodemus had was this: to decide whether he would be willing to get in the flow of the Spirit as he went on his way.

Whether running, cycling, or sailing, it makes a difference to go with the wind rather than against it. It takes an exorbitant amount of energy to go into the head on. And yet, how often do we do that with the wind of the Holy Spirit? Rather than allowing the Spirit to “blow where it chooses,” (John 3:8) how often do we try to control what the Spirit does? Or, control where the Spirit might blow us on our journeys of seeking? 

This Lent, we have an opportunity. Much like Nicodemus, we have the opportunity to seek out Jesus, to allow ourselves to be born again, and to get in the flow of the Spirit. We can dictate our own journeys as much as we want. But it’ll demand much, much more work from us. So why not get in the flow and allow the Spirit to lead us: to whatever it is we are seeking, or wherever it is we are to go? 

Before reading any further, consider: how many words have you already come across today? One step further, how many words have you already come across this week? 

In seminary, one of my required books to read as a part of a preaching course was entitled The End of Words. The thrust of the books’ message was this: we are bombarded by words everyday, and yet the church throws more words at us. So what makes the words of Christ any different?  The answer: that our words  – not only as preachers, but as people of faith – are to point to the voice of Christ, who points us to the eternal Word. 

So this week, as you consider what what you listening to, also consider what words you are adding into the mix. All of us are swimming in a sea of verbiage. So as you add your words to the mix this week, consider how your words may be an aid to someone seeking on their journey of faith. Consider how your words may open the door to further conversation, creating space for another to experience the Word of Christ. And consider how your words may exemplify acceptance and love…something just about everyone can stand to use a bit more of. It is only Christ who is the Word of God. But as people made in God’s image, you too bear God’s redeeming Word to all the world.

Remember You Are Dust

Wednesday evening, Lent begins with an invitation to be honest with ourselves and with God. In worship, we’ll recall the ways that we have sinned against God and each other and will receive the mark of ashes – reminding us that we are dust and to dust we shall return. 

In some ways, it may seem strange to begin a journey of seeking by admitting our sin, our mortality, our limits, and our failings. When beginning a journey, it’s best to be confident and secure, right? 

One would think so. But as we begin this Lenten journey of seeking, we begin by being honest with ourselves, with each other, and with God. Honest about our sin. Honest about our brokenness. Honest about our desires. Honest about our prayer. Honest about our intention. Honest about the questions we carry. Honest about what we seek.

If you haven’t made plans to join us for worship Wednesday evening, February 22 at 7:00pm, I hope you do. Consider this a marked time to “reset” before embarking on a collective journey into Lent. If you’re not able to make it to worship, but would still like to receive the imposition of ashes, please, contact me and I would be happy to meet you at your convivence. 

As you prepare for the coming season, Shepherds, receive the first verse of one of our hymns for Ash Wednesday as a blessing:

Bless sojourners and pilgrims who share this winding way;
your hope burns through the terrors, your love sustains the day.
We yearn for holy freedom while often we are bound;
together we are seeking the road where faith is found.
(ELW 326, verse 2)

Before you go on a trip, you pack a suitcase with the clothes you’ll need. 
Before you go on a hike, you fill a water bottle and grab an energy bar. 
And before you enter new territory, you consult a map. 

Before setting out on a journey, it isn’t uncommon to prepare. So, why should our journey of Lent be any different? 

This coming Sunday, February 19, our GOLF Night (starting at 4:00 pm) will be geared toward helping us “pack our bags” for the season of Lent.  Though GOLF has often been geared toward families with kiddos, we’re especially inviting those participating in Midweek Lenten Gatherings to also join us as we begin to consider what we’re seeking this Lent. 

The first part of our time will be spent together with adults and kids (we’ll be burning last years’ palms in preparation for Ash Wednesday!) and then we’ll break into appropriate groups. Kids will engage in various activities to learn about what the season of Lent is about and why it matters.

I, along with our Worship and Music Team and Education Team, hope you’ll join us as we begin our journey of seeking this Lent. Though we may not always recognize exactly what we’re seeking, in the journey there is always something more waiting to be discovered. 

Last summer, I was invited to go mushroom hunting. Having never done so, I had no clue what to expect, and I needed the expert guidance of someone who knew what those little ‘shrooms looked like. At first, I was a bit tentative about this whole escapade because, often, it’s my natural tendency to set out on a journey with a very clear, designated path with a distinct destination. But as I started off into the woods, I found that hunting – seeking – mushrooms was oddly freeing. I wasn’t constrained by certain expectations of what I thought I was “supposed” to find, or by a spelled out road map of where I was going to go, or even by what I “thought” my experience was going to be. Instead, I was simply on the journey, seeking whatever it was that was to be found. 

In our lives, it’s likely that we often find ourselves seeking “something.” At times, we may be able to distinctly name what it is that we are seeking: clarity, connection, wonder, justice, balance, healing. But sometimes, we may not be able to name what we’re seeking. All we know is that there’s got to be something more out there…and simply being on the journey is enough. 

Well, this Lent, we invite you into such a journey of seeking. The point of our Lenten journey won’t be to “get” to a certain place, or to come away with a certain answer, or to have a prescribed “experience.” Instead, the point of our journey – individually and collectively – will be to seek, to explore, and to be drawn more deeply into the fullness of life and into the heart of God. 

By now, you may have heard about our upcoming Midweek Lenten Gatherings. These gatherings will be an intentional time to gather with God and with one another in Scripture, prayer, and conversation. It is our hope that these gatherings create a safe space for you to seek that “something more” that God has out in the woods for you. 

I, along with our Worship and Music Team, encourage you to consider joining us. And, to jump start our journey, consider joining us for our February GOLF Night when we’ll have a chance to look toward the coming season together. Take a look below for more information, and in the meantime, consider your own journey of faith….and journey of seeking. Because somewhere out in the woods, there’s still something more waiting to be discovered. 

This past weekend we had the privilege of celebrating our shared ministry at Shepherd of the Cross, throughout the greater Muscatine community, and within the whole church. During our annual meeting, we shared the video above as a highlight of how we’ve lived together in 2022, and as a challenge to live together as one with Christ and one with each other into 2023. 

So moving into 2023, what would it be like for you to intentionally take up Christ’s prayer for his disciples to live as one with God and one with each other? 

• Might it lead you to be a part of our upcoming midweek Lenten gatherings – offering an opportunity to nurture your relationship with Christ and with fellow believers?
• Might it lead you to be a part of a Shepherding Team, fostering the shared work that we all share? (sign up here!)
• Or might it lead you to broaden your perspective of what the purpose of the church really is as we explore new paths that – previously – weren’t even considered?

More and more, as the body of Christ, we need to work together. And more and more, we need to live together. Apart from God, we can do nothing. But caught in the vine of God’s grace, and in the web of God’s people, we will come to know the truth of Jesus Christ and we will bear fruit for the sake of the Gospel. 

As I was driving north to church after being downtown, I thought of the invitation given by Jesus to his first disciples in our Gospel lesson from this past Sunday: Follow me. For most of my short drive, I was behind the same car. I wasn’t intentionally following this car, but it happened to be going in the same direction I was. Every time it would make a turn, I would make a turn. Every time it would change lanes, I would change lanes. 

Getting to church and hopping out of my car, it made me think about what it means to “follow.” Had I been intentionally following this car – perhaps to a new location I’d never been to before – I would’ve been much more attuned to the changes the car in front of me was making. And, from what I was seeing, I would’ve made changes in what I was doing to match the other car. 

I wonder if that is a bit what it’s like to follow Jesus. As we move through the rest of the season of Epiphany, we have the opportunity to watch Jesus – intentionally – and see what direction he’s going. Starting this coming Sunday, we’ll be hearing from Jesus’ long teaching narrative in the Gospel of Matthew: the Sermon on the Mount. Spanning three chapters, this teaching gives instruction of what it means to live in God’s Kingdom. But even more so, it gives us something to follow: taking note of the “direction” Jesus is encouraging us, as his disciples, to go. 

So as you continue into your week, consider what it means for you to “follow” Jesus. If Jesus were in front of you, what would Jesus be doing? And how would you reflect the things Jesus does? And the direction Jesus is going? 

In the past week, I’ve heard from many people the demands of work, school, family and outside responsibilities. For many of our Shepherds, life is busy. The thought of adding another meeting, appointment, or commitment might be too much to consider. With this in mind, I was struck by a recent conversation I had with some colleagues. In reflection on this past Sunday’s Gospel, we were discussing what it meant to be a “come and see” church. As people who have been invited to come and see Jesus for ourselves, experiencing the depth of God’s promises, how are we to invite others to similar experiences? 

Early in my ministry, I thought that the magic answer was to invite people to events. Invite people to worship. Invite youth to a dynamic youth program. But the more I’ve listened to those around me and the wisdom of colleagues, the more I recognize that many people are not looking for “one more thing” to add to their calendar. Rather, people are looking for an opportunity to be invited into relationship, into community, into service, and into experiences that have the potential to transform them. 

Might those things be found within worship? Sure. And might those things be found within a program? Sure. But I’ve wondered lately if restricting our invitations to such events limits our potential to be “come and see” people and to be a “come and see” church. Instead, I wonder what would happen if we testified to our own experience of Christ. I wonder what would happen if we prioritized relationship and acknowledged the presence of God even in that space. And I wonder what would happen if we shifted our invitations of “come see” to be less about coming to see what we’re “doing” as a church, or an organization, or a group…and more about coming to see Christ. 

As people invited into the grace of Jesus, we all have had the opportunity to come and see Christ for ourselves. So now what? Do we dare live as a “come and see” people and a “come and see” church…pointing to the truth of our Lord Jesus Christ, and inviting people into the abundant life of our God?