Fractals

March 2018

To begin, a little science. Some years ago I became aware of fractals, which are objects in which a part has the same character as the whole, whether they are seen from near or far. It is a strange thing to read or hear about, but we have all experienced them in our lives, from fern leaves to seashells, cauliflower to snowflakes, mountain ranges to galaxies!

A visual example (which is much easier to deal with!), and meaningful for us as Christians, is what a 7-year-old boy described as, “a cross within the cross within the cross within the cross within the cross!” Up close you see just a point, step back a bit and you see the point is the top of a cross, farther back and you see the cross is one of several crosses, until farthest away you see a mass of crosses. And if we go beyond that…a bigger pattern made up of this mass of crosses. Even the largest contains the smallest.

I offer this to suggest that when we are really close to something, we can only see as much as we can see, and that from a distance, we can see even more. And in faith, while we must trust in the vastness of God, we can see Jesus, who is the “image of the invisible God.” And so it is that on Good Friday, we’ll be leaving St. Luke’s on Seventh Street at noon to become more aware of the small crosses and large crosses that crucify people around the world  ̶  just like the image above.

For those of us at St. Paul's, aware of our church’s prognosis, it may be easy to see a cross looming. But it is Jesus who fills our lives, and his life and our lives are not just the cross. Rather, it is his life, death, and resurrection that gives us meaning and hope, even if sometimes the cross is all we can see.

Recently, on hearing of St. Paul's circumstances, a friend of the congregation, the Rev. Karen Moeschberger brought to my attention a hymn entitled, “In the Bulb There is a Flower, which goes:

In the bulb there is a flower,
in the seed, an apple tree,
in cocoons, a hidden promise:
butterflies will soon be free!
In the cold and snow of winter
there's a spring that waits to

   be,
unrevealed until its season,
something God alone can see.

There's a song in every silence,
seeking word and melody;
there's a dawn in every

   darkness,
bringing hope to you and me.
From the past will come the

   future;
what it holds, a mystery,
unrevealed until its season,
something God alone can see.
In our end is our beginning,
in our time, infinity;
in our doubt there is believing,
in our life, eternity,
in our death, a resurrection,
at the last, a victory,
unrevealed until its season,
something God alone can see.

There is what we can see, and there is more than we can see. We have to be responsive to what we is in front of us; as we approach Good Friday, we can’t deny the cross. At the same time, however, we have to be open to what may be revealed to us, bigger than what we could imagine. Resurrected life.

In the bulb, we can imagine a flower. In our doubt, can we believe that there is something ahead of us, “unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see”?

God is all in all,

Choose Life

November 2017

Over the year-and-a-half that I’ve been with you, I’ve been constantly reminded of the commonalities and similarities between the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America and the Presbyterian Church (USA) that allow for our pastors to serve one another’s churches. Of the many things I could share to demonstrate that, in this column I want to highlight some of the questions that would-be pastors in each denomination have to answer in order to be ordained to the ministry of word and sacrament. In your history, you’ve probably heard a seminary graduate answer:

Will you … lead God’s people by your own example in faithful service and holy living?

Will you give faithful witness in the world, that God's love may be known in all that you do?

In my case, nearly 25 years ago, I answered nine questions, including

Will you in your own life seek to follow the Lord Jesus Christ, love your neighbors, and work for the reconciliation of the world?

Will you in your ministry will you try to show the love and justice of Jesus Christ?

I offer this to show that our two denominations share a commitment to justice, a commitment common to a multitude of faith communities. And it is out of this common commitment, in this country that is currently so divided, that I joined 56 other religious leaders in the area in signing the Interfaith Statement Against Bigotry and Division found below. (I can provide a list of all signatories upon request).

I’ve heard the stories of Protestants and Catholics crossing the street to avoid the other’s church. I’ve seen the photos of African-Americans discriminated against in the 1950s and ‘60s, and watched the videos of more-than-questionable shootings in 2016. I’ve known the prejudice that has long been buried just below the surface, and I’ve witnessed it crawling back into American society.

I know the Jesus who died because of such attitudes. And I know the vow I took in his name to speak and stand against such things. The call on each of us to choose life, and not death.

After signing this and sharing it with the Council, it is only appropriate to share it with you. I hope that we can walk together toward the light, not just for ourselves, but for the world God so loves.

God is all in all,

An Interfaith Statement Against Bigotry and Division

As interfaith leaders in the Lehigh Valley, we are aware of a climate of tension and anxiety in our

community and nation. We lift our voices together, as people of faith, to remind our brothers and

sisters that we are all Americans united not only by the concord of our national polity but also by the

call to build the “Beloved Community.”

As faith leaders we commit to overcoming hatred and discrimination in our communities, schools, and

places of worship. We are deeply troubled by actions and language that vilify persons based upon their

race, nationality, faith, gender, or sexual orientation; we reject the targeting of particular groups in our

society, and the promotion of hatred and fear. We unapologetically witness against bigotry and

bullying that targets individuals because of their identity or faith expression. We acknowledge that

there is a global state of division and discord, fueled by intolerance and xenophobia. As people of faith

we challenge this dynamic and express our witness against it.

Our faith traditions—Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu—call us to love our neighbor,

reconcile with our enemies, and strive for the inclusion of all in our communities, especially the most

vulnerable. We share with all Americans the responsibility for creating a society where our differences

are respected, where dialogue on critical community concerns is the norm, and where collective

action for the common good transcends our narrow agendas. We yearn for a time when all people

can live and work in mutual respect, while advancing the well-being of our communities and nation.

Our role as leaders is to proclaim by what we say and what we do that God is a God of love, and that

we are people of love—for all of God's children. To further our witness, we therefore encourage

people throughout the Lehigh Valley to join with us and commit specifically:

• To act respectfully toward others, including those representing other faiths and

ideological perspectives.

• To refrain from personal attacks on individuals or groups while maintaining the right to

disagree vigorously.

• To set an example for our youth in finding ways to settle disputes peacefully and in

refraining from acts of bigotry and bullying.

We also call upon members of our faith communities to participate responsibly, respectfully, and

faithfully in community building. We urge listening to diverse voices, dialoging with people across faith

and racial boundaries, and creating opportunities to break down walls of division, while creating

bridges of hope within our community.

This Unfinished Work

December 2017

As a relatively newcomer to Civil War history, November 2016 was my first visit to Gettysburg for Dedication Day, marking the anniversary of Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. By calendar coincidence, it was also Remembrance Day, which recalls those who fought and died in that famous battle.

At the same time, Christians around the world were preparing for the season of Advent, in which the church simultaneously remembers Jesus’ birth and prepares for his return. Writes Professor Ron Allen, “beginning the liturgical season of Advent with the second coming reminds us that the work of the first advent (coming) of Jesus is not complete.”

These events in Gettysburg and Bethlehem might at first glance appear worlds apart, but perhaps they have something important in common.

Both the Gettysburg commemorations and Advent look forward and back. Lincoln’s famous opening words, “Four score and seven years ago” led listeners to recall the founding of this country 87 years before. He spoke of how the budding nation which once tested its high ideals against the British was now testing those ideals against itself. The President’s sweeping words were not about the country that was, but whether “that nation might live.”

In the same way, while the most popular vision of Christmas is of a baby born in a manger, this child is also the God Who Is, Who Was, and Who Is to Come. Christians not only look back, as if we are simply celebrating the (approximately) 2020^th birthday of Jesus. We also look forward to when he will come to judge the earth. We are to live now, in light of that judgment to come.

Similarly, both the Church’s proclamation and Lincoln’s words lift up a particular occasion to speak to universal truth. Yes, Advent looks back on the birth of a human baby, but as Juan Antonio Espinoza writes in his poem of the same name, “The Lord is Born Every Day.” Yes, a baby was born in the Middle East, to live and die two millennia ago, but the Christian faith asserts that that one birth touches every person, regardless of gender, national origin, time period, and everything else.

In the same way, Lincoln lifts up the nation born 87 years prior, and asks whether “any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure.” He is asking if the ideals of 1776 are still the ideals in 1863, and will they be the ideals of 2018 and beyond?

That is a crucial question for us today, one that will be answered in the lives and values we live from this day onward. “It is for us the living… to be dedicated here to the unfinished work” of a “nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men  ̶  and women  ̶  are created equal.”

Neither Americans nor Christians should need any reminder that all people are created equally. The foundational documents of each point to that eternal truth again and again. Our comfort with those different from us, our agreement with them, does not change that. To deny that truth is to stand against God and country.

That we currently struggle so much to stand unified on that issue lifts up one final truth that both Advent and Gettysburg share. To look backward and forward is to wear the Advent colors: the purple of repentance, and simultaneously, the blue of hope. To become the people we were meant to be, as church or nation, we must first admit our wrongs. Our sins. And then we must ask for forgiveness and make amends. Only then can we lay down our guilt, and made free to pick up the mantle of this unfinished work, so full of promise.