I’ve been thinking about Family Conflict as a way for me to understand the dynamics at work in a church family.  

It’s family reunion time, and all of the members of the extended family are getting together for a celebration.  Everyone who is coming is somehow related to the original patriarch and matriarch of the family, Ole and Lena Olafson.  Their marriage was a scandal to both families, for it was a dreaded mixed marriage!  Ole was Norwegian and Lena was a Swede!  To make matters worse, Ole came from the Pietist tradition, and Lena came from the orthodox state church in Sweden.  It is not clear whether their families disowned them, or Ole and Lena beat them to the punch by immigrating to America in 1883.

They ended up joining the Uniting Lutheran Church, for neither the Norwegian Lutherans nor the Augustana Lutherans would take this sinful mixed couple.  Ole and Lena also became rock solid members of the Bull Moose party, partly because Lena had a crush on Teddy Roosevelt, and partly because Ole liked anyone who’d take on those he disagreed with on both the left and the right!  Through the years, things would get awfully tense in the Olafson household, for their son, Sven, had the gall and nerve to marry a German girl named Helga.  Ole threw Sven out of the house saying, “I won’t have any mixed marriages in my family!  I disown you!”  But one year later Sven and Helga were back because Lena couldn’t bear not seeing her first grandchild.  And when they named the boy little Ole, well, big Ole kind of melted.

But Ole’s heart was hardened again when second son, Ivar, both became a Democrat and married a Dane named Pia.  To make matters worse, their daughter Ingrid married a Swede, Peder, who was an Augustana Lutheran.  Some say Ole died of a broken heart.  Lena just said he ate too many meatballs and sausages. 

The Olafson clan now had four different kinds of Lutherans in the family, and a number of mixed marriages, which everyone tried so hard not to talk about at family gatherings, especially when Lena was around.  ”You are all my precious children and I love you all,” is how she would scold them when they got into any arguments over which Lutheran church was the True Lutheran church, and thereby who were the real Lutherans, and who were the dirty heretics.  Once Lena died, the families kind of drifted apart.

Sven and Helga moved to South Dakota.  Ivar and Pia stayed near the homestead in Minnesota.  Peder and Ingrid moved out to Oregon.

Only after the depression hit did the family start coming back together again.  Sven and Helga lost the farm and moved back to Minnesota.  Peder and Ingrid went bankrupt when the Herring market collapsed, and they too moved back to Minnesota with dreams of starting a lutefisk factory.  Some people just never stop dreaming.  All of Ole and Lena’s grandchildren started attending the same schools and got to know each other in the years that followed.  Added to this were the mergers starting to happen between the different Lutheran churches, though the old Norwegians and the Missouri Synod Lutherans still wouldn’t talk to anyone outside their faith.  Christmases would become fraught with crying children when the uncles started yelling at each other calling the other, “Spawn of Satan” and “Hellbound Heretics!”  Needless to say there were a few Christmases when Peder and Ingrid would not come to Christmas with their kids and everyone missed their lutefisk with cream sauce and delicious lefse.  It seems Helga couldn’t get the hang of either dish, but everyone felt bad for her because she couldn’t help it, she was German after all.

OK, I am mixing my metaphors, but I don’t really care, I’m pretty mixed up this week as it is.

I got to church early Monday morning before anyone else had arrived.  The tent from the garage sale was still up, with odds and ends lying around.  There was new tile in the entry way (great job Bob and Mike!), and a wonderful “welcome back” banner covering my office door, with streamers and balloons to boot!  (Oh, and thanks for the star shaped glitter, that’s still popping up in unexpected places.)  It felt as if I had hardly been away, like stepping out of the wardrobe in the Chronicles of Narnia; after being gone for a long time, finding out that you had never really left.  Yeah, kind of like a time-warp, Twilight Zone kind of feeling.

Yet, I have been gone for over 2 1/2 months, so it was inevitable and expected, that when I stepped out of my sabbatical “wardrobe” I’d step right into the rapids.  It has been like one minute walking through a peaceful meadow, under gently swaying trees, and then plunging into a raging river, trying to catch your breath while being swept along by the rapids downstream.

I’m not complaining at all.  It was time to get back to work.  Kind of like looking forward to school starting in the doldrums of summer, not for the classes, but to reconnect with your friends.  OK, I was and am a geek, I looked forward to the classes too, and I still do!

My wondering is about why we sometimes avoid taking time off, getting away from it all, or even weekly observing the Sabbath.  Could it be that the jolt and juxtaposition is too great for us, and not worth the pain and effort?  There is always a price to pay, isn’t there?  Tons of email, phone messages, mail to open, too many things to catch up with.  Why try to get out of the rat race for a time, if it is only going to hurt worse trying to get back in?  Or, could it be that we don’t want to face the dissonance of the world of God’s Sabbath with the “real world”?  

When you really listen to Jesus’ teachings, especially in the Sermon on the Mount and in the parables, you realize he his hitting head on the clash between the “real world” we all live in, which apostle Paul calls “the world of the flesh,” and the world that Jesus calls “the Kingdom of God.”  It’s the same world, the difference is in how we see, think, and live in the world as God made it and wants it yet to become.  

Are we living as children of the light, or children of the dark?  I have to be honest with myself, and admit I’m caught in between.  It makes me sad and makes me worried, however, when we get the two confused, and we only live in the dark.  I hope I don’t too quickly forget this sabbatical time that was spent for the most part walking in the light of God’s grace, peace, and renewal.  I am so very grateful for that gift.  Now to hold onto it, keep my eyes open, and live each day walking in the light and along the Way.

One of the things we committed to as a family before we left for our road trip was to stay away from fast food and chains.  We wanted to get off the beaten path, visit the side streets, and local hangouts to literally and figuratively get a taste of the places we were visiting.  Of course you meet local people that work in the fast food places and chains, but it looks the same and tastes the same as everywhere else.  Nothing unique, special, or local.  Nothing to surprise you, delight you, or challenge you to step outside of your comfort zone to try something new.

 

"Wild Rice" Rod serenading us on the way to the chuckwagon BBQ.

 

 

Well, we did a pretty good job all the way through.  A few places really stick out in my memory (and my stomach).  The Dark Horse in Custer, SD for elk and Bison steaks. The Blue Bell lodge for a chuck wagon ride through Custer State Park with “Wild Rice” Rod as our guitar player and sing-along leader, then to Parker Canyon for a great steak dinner in the Black Hills. The Grand Hotel in Big Timber, MT for the best Bison burger and frozen mocha dessert ever!! The Dash-in diner in a small town in Wyoming that I forget the name of, for great homemade food.  Tommyknockers Brew Pub in Idaho Springs, CO for more Bison Burgers, Bison Taco Salad, homemade Rootbeer and Orange Creme Soda, and a excellent Imperial Brown Ale with Maple Syrup.  Poppycock’s in Aspen, CO for their special oatmeal, macadamia nut pancakes and fruity french toast.  The Thunderhead Brew Pub in Kearney, NE for awesome woodfired pizzas, calazones, and their award winning Honey Wheat Ale.  And finally, the big surprise was finding Boxers BBQ in Council Bluffs, IA for ribs on Daniel’s birthday.  Not only did they have fantastic smoked ribs, they gave use a plate of fudge brownies and deep-fried bread pudding covered in Carmel sauce and powdered sugar for a birthday treat!

The point of making you all hungry just thinking about these restaurants is not about the food.  It is about the fact that the best stuff is local and made from scratch by people who are passionate and creative about what they are doing.  It takes more time, effort, and a commitment to an artisan’s ethic, rather than an assembly line attitude.  It is the difference between a microwave burrito from the corner convenience store and one that is homemade from scratch.  One attitude values experimentation and the necessary process of learning from mistakes and failures, while the other rigidly enforces the status quo and fears and punishes failures and mistakes.  I mean, who in their right mind would deep-fat fry a perfectly good bread pudding?  But it was awesome (though I couldn’t eat it often, or I’d blow up like a balloon and my arteries would clog!

What is the prevailing attitude within our churches?  Does one size fit all when it comes to the Spiritual journey?  Do we run after the latest fad from the “successful” church from somewhere else, trying to duplicate what worked in one community and context of faith, and despairing when it just falls flat in our own church (open expensive box, add water, mix, and wa-lah, instant successful church – really?)?  After visiting a number of very different churches this summer, both in size, context, and style, what a gift to experience both that which is unchanging (God’s Word, prayer, singing, confession and forgiveness, the Sacraments, etc.), and the wonderful ways those unchanging parts were creatively formed, structured, and lived out by the worshipping communities.  Church Historian, Jaroslav Pelikan, once wrote (whether he came up with it or not, I don’t know), “Tradition is the living faith of the dead; traditionalism is the dead faith of the living.”  Is our faith life and the ministries of our churches a living reflection of our gifts, passions, and the creative spirit God has instilled in us?  Or, are we settling for a “warmed up microwave burrito” kind of faith and church?  Personally, I’ve found the proverbial road less traveled both more satisfying and life giving.

“Immediately the Spirit drove him out into the wilderness, and he was in the wilderness for forty days being tempted by Satan.  He was with the wild animals, and angels attended him.” – Mark 1: 12-13

There seems to be a rhythm to Jesus’ journey of life and ministry: solitude in the wilderness, by lakes and on mountain tops; and then, surrounded by crowds in the synagogues and cities.  Though mostly, at least in Mark’s gospel, Jesus prays, teaches, and heals out in nature.  Even when he tries to get away for some solitude and prayer, the crowds follow Jesus out into the wilderness.  I think this pattern of Jesus’ ministry has been too often overlooked by the Church, especially where adults are concerned.  At least our kids get the chance to go to one of the ELCA’s best ministry resources, church camp, for a week every summer.  I know a lot of them are pretty posh, to compete with all of the other camps vying for our kids’ attention, and their parent’s money.  But only at church camp will you discover that there is something incredibly special about evening worship around the campfire, singing and praying to God under the starry night sky.  

 

Bright moonlight

How are the two sacred spaces of nature/wilderness and synagogue/sanctuary interconnected in terms of the spiritual journey?  What is missing if you have only one experience of sacred space and not the other?   If you go out to experience nature and the wild without knowing Who to pay attention to, or how to listen or how to speak, you’ll largely miss the communion that God offers.  In the same way if you only listen to God, or pay attention in the sanctuary, the Word and words and rituals become cut off from the rest of life in the world.  In the sanctuary you are taught the Story, given the vocabulary of faith, brought into the living relationship with God through water, bread, and wine.  In nature the Story literally comes to life, you have the words to think and say, you know the patterns to look for and Who you are looking for, or Who is looking for you.

How have your experiences of nature and sanctuary informed your faith and shaped your spiritual journey?

Happy Birthday to the Church – it’s Pentecost!

But if Pentecost is considered the birthday of the church, what exactly is “the Church”?  My friend Rob dealt with this subject in his talk/sermon at Spirit Garage this Sunday.  It was the first time I’ve sat with my family through a whole worship service since my kids were born.  It was also the first time in a very long time that I’ve worshipped in another church – not “in” but “with”.  Thanks Rob and Spirit Garage for filling me up this Sunday!

A church, small “c”, is just a building.  I’ve been in churches that were museums.  I’ve been in churches that were art galleries, coffee shops, and condos.  I’ve been in abandoned churches in the country, slowly decaying and falling apart physically.  I’ve been in dying and decaying churches falling apart spiritually.

Today I was reminded of the Church, big “C”, a gathering of people seeking after God.  Some were mature believers, some were just getting started on the way (and I’m not just talking about baby Anastasia that was Baptized).  Some were seekers, some were just curious, and some came because there was good coffee and you could bring it with you into the worship space.  But what struck me was that this community of people were authentically welcoming and hospitable, they were obviously enjoying doing their parts in the service together and were really listening, paying attention, and participating wholeheartedly in the worship of God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  

Spirit Garage was very laid back and casual, and a very diverse group of people.  They were honest about their struggles and failures, brokenness, and need for forgiveness and new life in God.  No pretentiousness, no putting on a “happy face,” no “playing church” or “going through the motions.”  They were not “church-y” in that very negative sort of way that often turns people off, or turns them away.  They were just trying to be the kind of people God wants them to be, followers of Jesus.

I am glad that God made each Church different and unique, which is a reflection of the diversity of God’s many different people.  Yet when the community of believers and followers forget that the most important thing is being honest and authentic followers of Jesus Christ, with all of our weaknesses, wounded-ness, strengths, and gifts, we stop being the Church, and become merely a church.  

The Church is the Body of Christ formed by God’s Spirit

Are you being honest about who you are and your need for God?  Are you really listening to God?   Are you paying attention to and open to the work of the Holy Spirit in your life and in the lives of others?  Are you part of a community of people on the journey of faith, to help and be helped, to encourage and be encouraged, to learn and grow and serve together?  If so, then no matter how imperfect, you’ve found the Church.  And since the Holy Spirit calls, gathers, and enlightens the Church, that means that God has put you together with that group of followers for a reason, to give and to receive, and to incarnate the Body of Christ together.  Wherever you are and with whomever you are, strive to be the Church, not just a church.  And the only way that will happen is when you ask for and are open to God’s Spirit, even at a Spirit Garage.