Commemoration Jehu Jones Jr.

Commemoration

Jehu Jones Jr., d. September 28, 1852; transferred from November 24

Reflection

Jehu Jones was the first African American to be ordained a Lutheran pastor. Unfortunately, racism followed him, both in the North and in the South, even from his pastoral colleagues. His father was the proprietor of a large hotel in Charleston and who purchased the freedom of several slaves. Jones felt a call to be a missionary in Liberia, and, knowing that pastors in the South would not ordain him, he traveled to New York City bearing letters of recommendation from his pastor back in Charleston, and he was ordained by the Ministerium of New York in 1832. When he returned to Charleston to prepare for his voyage to Liberia, he was jailed and later freed on condition of never again returning to his native state. He went with his wife and nine children to Philadelphia, where he established St. Paul’s Church (the cornerstone still stands). When his congregation experienced financial difficulties, his ministerial colleagues refused to help, and the Ministerium of Pennsylvania seized the property. Jones disappeared from the scene disillusioned. Douglas Strange observes that other African American pastors who have followed Jones into ministry in the Lutheran Church “have exhibited, by their decision to do so, a greater tolerance and unfeigned forgiveness toward us than that shown to Jehu Jones, Jr.”

Prayer

Gracious God, Forgive us the deeply-ingrained sin of racism. Make us ambassadors of your peace that knows of no divisions of race. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Commemoration William Passavant

Commemoration

William Passavant, d. June 6, 1894 (transferred from November 24)

Reflection

Of William Passavant, his close friend and associate H.W. Roth said, “When others dreamed, he dared and did.” A pastor of congregations in Baltimore and Pittsburgh, Passavant was a tireless worker in the cause of relieving human suffering. Regular services were held in jails, and he sought out the poor, the sick, and the neglected. He was a mission organizer; a founder of hospitals in Milwaukee, Chicago, Pittsburgh, and Jacksonville, Illinois; of orphanages in Mount Vernon, New York, Philadelphia, and Boston. He was also a founder of Thiel College, Chicago Seminary, and the General Council. He introduced the deaconess movement to America.

In his publication The Workman, Passavant wrote: The Church must not only be a witnessing Church but also a working Church. If she is not this, her testimony for the truth and her solemn services are in vain. Only when the Church truly believes, is she in a position to teach, to confess, and to live the life of her blessed Lord. . . . And because of such faith, bringing with it forgiveness of sin and the peace of God, the Church must follow in the footsteps of her Lord, and out of the depths of her grateful love do His works. Having been much forgiven, she will love much. And to do this, she must daily sit at His feet and learn of Him.

Prayer

Gracious God, Thank you for the life and witness of your servant, William Passavant. Give to us the same passion to live our faith as he did. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Commemoration November 25: Isaac Watts

Commemoration

Isaac Watts, Hymnwriter, d. 1748

Reflection

Isaac Watts is known as the creator of the English hymn. Dissatisfied with the poor quality of the versified psalms in use in the church of his day, he set out to do better, and his Hymns and Spiritual Songs collection demonstrates the results of his labors. He was an ordained pastor, but failing health forced him to spend his last 26 years in the house of Sir Thomas Abney, preaching and teaching only occasionally. These years were prolific for the brilliant scholar and writer of theology, philosophy, and verse. He died after many years of suffering. He has been called the Melanchthon (Martin Luther’s close friend and defender of the Reformation) of his day because of his learning, gentleness, and devotion. A monument to Watts is in Westminster Abbey.

Watt’s hymns include “Joy to the World,” “Alas and Did My Savior Bleed,” “O God, Our Help in Ages Past,” “Oh, That the Lord Would Guide My Ways,” “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross,” “Give to Our God Immortal Praise,” and “Jesus Shall Reign.” 

Prayer

O God, Whom saints and angels delight to worship in heaven with hymns and spiritual songs of praise: Give us the wings of faith to behold the joyful glory of your saints, and to be so strengthened by the vigorous poetry of your servant Isaac Watts that we may faithfully walk in the path you have set before us, and at last, through your grace, possess the land of pure delight opened to us by your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen. (Philip H. Pfatteicher)

Commemoration November 24: Justus Falckner

Commemoration

Justus Falckner, d. September 22, 1723; Pastor in North America

Reflection

Our calendar of commemorations lifts up three “Pastors in North America” on this day; we will devote three days this week to remember them.

Justus Falcner was the first Lutheran pastor ordained in North America. His ordination was truly ecumenical, as Falckner, who was German (born in Saxony), was ordained by a Swedish pastor, to serve a Dutch congregation. The service was held at Gloria Dei Lutheran Church in Philadelphia (a Swedish congregation), and it featured an organ, orchestra, and men’s choir singing in Latin. Falckner and his two brothers followed the vocation of their father and grandfathers on both sides for six generations. Falckner wrote a Dutch catechism for adults, and he is remembered for his hymn, “Rise, O Children of Salvation” (LBW 182, unfortunately not in our current ELW).

Prayer

Eternal God, Whose praise by the saints in light thunders like the sea, you brought together a diversity of peoples and traditions in the ordination of your servant Justus Falckner: Strengthen, we pray, all servants of your church in their ministry that, supported by the fellowship of the faithful and bold who were victorious in their spiritual warfare, your people may be steadfast in the truth, united in purpose, and comprehensive in their ministry to the world; through your Song Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen. (Philip H. Pfatteicher)

Prosper the Work of Our Hands

THE TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Year A, Lectionary 23

November 16, 2014

Psalm 90:1-8, 12

1 Thessalonians 5:1-11

Matthew 25:14-30

Pastor David Tryggestad

Concordia Evangelical Lutheran Church

Duluth, Minnesota

. . . and prosper for us the work of our hands

—O prosper the work of our hands!

Every congregation I have served has its own rhythm. In addition to the rhythm of weekly worship and the annual cycle of the Church Year, which are shared by thousands of congregations across the country—across the globe—each congregation has its own particular rhythm. Some events are weekly, like Bible studies, choir rehearsal, confirmation or high school ministry. Others are every other week, like serving supper at the Union Gospel Mission. Still others are monthly, like Bridges to Christ or the Altar Guild. Annual events include the Trunk or Treat event, just held a few weeks ago, with at least 17 families showing up with their trunks filled with candy and goodies, and perhaps 100 children from the community involved. Then there are ongoing but unscheduled events that include providing hospitality for grieving families at the time of a funeral or memorial service.

Just this past Thursday our quilters gathered for their monthly rhythm of service and fellowship. As always, the Fellowship Hall was abuzz with conversation and activity and color—glorious color—as many quilts were being worked on simultaneously, each in various stages of construction. I thought about the last verse of our psalm appointed for today, Psalm 90:

. . . and prosper for us the work of our hands

—O prosper the work of our hands!

In many ways, our quilters are a microcosm of the life of a congregation. Some of them bring quilt squares they have been working on at home, while they all bring their lives with them when they gather, as they share their joys and their sorrows with one another. Martin Luther called this the “mutual conversation and consolation of the brothers and sisters in Christ.” Though there is much they might cry about, as most are in their 70s and 80s, joy and laughter dominate the atmosphere. When they sit down for lunch, one of them shares a devotion, after which discussion follows, including the business of numbering the quilts and determining where they should go, where they might serve the greatest need. The new Steve O’Neil Apartments are high on their list this year.

. . . and prosper for us the work of our hands

—O prosper the work of our hands!

Our psalmist would have been right at home with our quilters—in fact, perhaps he was talking about them! “The days of our life are seventy years, or perhaps eighty, if we are strong . . .” (vs. 10a). If 80 years old is strong, some of our quilters are even stronger! Some are approaching fourscore years and ten! And still they quilt—they move those tired hands and fingers over those beautiful fabrics and assemble gifts of love for strangers across the street or across the globe.

. . . and prosper for us the work of our hands

—O prosper the work of our hands!

I thought of our psalm when I came in yesterday afternoon and found our volunteer piano tuner sitting at our Mason & Hamlin piano up front. He had been out of town with his wife almost all week attending to a daughter undergoing a battery of medical tests and procedures and came home on Friday to learn that both pianos in the sanctuary needed tuning before worship this morning. He is self-employed and no doubt had a list of his own projects to attend to.

. . . and prosper for us the work of our hands

—O prosper the work of our hands!

While here yesterday, I noted that the Altar Guild had been here to prepare the altar, with final details being completed this morning before worship. One of them baked our bread at home. Next week when you come for worship, you will note that all the paraments will have been changed from green to white in celebration of Christ the King Sunday. In celebration of this festival of the conclusion of the Church Year, one of the members will provide port wine for the Lord’s Supper. And when you come the Sunday following, you will see that all the paraments will again have been changed, this time to blue, to usher in the season of Advent, the beginning of a new Church Year. All of this in addition to the paraments having been red for Reformation Sunday at the end of October, then white for All Saints Sunday at the beginning of November, and then back to green. It is worth noting that our green paraments were lovingly handmade by one of our members, who serves both on the Altar Guild and the quilters.

. . . and prosper for us the work of our hands

—O prosper the work of our hands!

Many, many people share their time and their talents to make a congregation vital. Our English word talent comes from our Gospel for today, though the talents that Jesus is talking about are not traits or abilities, but rather money—lots of money. Depending on which biblical scholar you read, a talent is worth the equivalent of 15 or 20 years of labor. Multiply your annual income by 15 or 20, and, regardless of your salary, a talent is a lot of money.

As much as every congregation depends on the time and talents of all its members, Jesus is talking about money. Yet it seems that, whenever the church tries to talk about stewardship, we tend to steer the conversation away from money and towards issues of time and talents, thinking that, if we’ve offered our time and talents, we’ve offered enough.

The master in our Gospel lesson is incredibly generous, despite what the third slave says about him. Whether you have received five talents, or two talents, or one talent, you have been entrusted with a great deal. It is only right and fitting that we should return a portion of what has been entrusted to us. Yet we are so ready to do nothing to invest what has been entrusted to us in the work of our Lord. As another psalmist sings, “What shall I render to the Lord for all God’s benefits to me?” (Psalm 116:12). “What shall I give back . . .?”

. . . and prosper for us the work of our hands

—O prosper the work of our hands!

This past week has seen many children and young people coming together. We have 26 enrolled in Sunday School, many more than in previous years. We’ve had several weeks with 100% participation among our dozen confirmation youth, and we have more high school youth coming regularly than we have had in a long time. Our children’s and youth leaders are enthusiastic and committed. Five are attending the Middle School Gathering next weekend, in addition to the adult leader; seven are participating in the 10-day Synod Journey next summer, in addition to the adult leader.

In a few minutes we will sing, “Christ, Be Our Light” (ELW 715). The Apostle Paul says in our Second Reading, “. . . for you are all children of light and children of the day . . . Therefore encourage one another and build up each other . . .” (1 Thessalonians 5:5a, 11a).

A large part of that encouraging and building up each other involves your financial contributions to our ministry. Our children and young people depend on it. And our lives of faithful discipleship depend on it.

 

. . . and prosper for us the work of our hands

—O prosper the work of our hands!

Thanks be to God!

The Wise and the Foolish

THE TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Year A, Lectionary 32

November 9, 2014

Amos 5:18-24

Matthew 25:1-13

Pastor David Tryggestad

Concordia Evangelical Lutheran Church

Duluth, Minnesota

Keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

the time is drawing nigh.

The parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids has always troubled me. First of all, I don’t like it that the wise bridesmaids don’t share their oil with the foolish. Their excuse is that, if they were to share, they would all run out of oil and the bridegroom would have to come without a welcome; there would be no light whatsoever for his arrival. Imagine a totally dark wedding banquet.

But, for me, the more troubling thing is the conclusion—the response of the bridegroom to the foolish bridesmaids who eventually show up, having purchased oil for their lamps. The door has already been shut. The bridegroom replies, “Truly I tell you, I do not know you.”

The response seems harsh. It seems particularly harsh when the bridegroom represents our Lord.

Doesn’t Jesus say somewhere else in Scripture: “I know my own and my own know me” (John 10:14)? How does Jesus know his own and how do his own know him?

Keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

the time is drawing nigh.

If our Gospel for today is not troubling enough, there’s Amos, the prophet from our First Lesson, through whom God sings:

I hate, I despise your festivals,

and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies [read, “worship”]. . . .

Take away from me the noise of your songs;

I will not listen to the melody of your harps. (Amos 5:21, 23)

The one thing more than any other that constitutes a Christian congregation is corporate worship, and, before Christ, the regular worship of the Jews in the Temple and synagogues. How can God possibly say, “I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies”? And perhaps the one thing we do more than anything else is to sing. How can God say, “Take away from me the noise of your songs; I will not listen to the melody of your harps”?

I grew up in the church. I probably missed no more than two or three Sundays a year going to worship. But I don’t think I ever really heard the words of our prophet until I was in my late 20s, when I had the job of my dreams as full-time director of music at a large Lutheran church in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. My life centered around preparing choirs, soloists, and instrumentalists to lead four different worship services every weekend. I thought I had the most important job in the world! And most fun! Then I heard, as if for the first time, the words of our prophet thundering as if from heaven itself:

I hate, I despise your festivals,

and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies . . . .

Take away from me the noise of your songs;

I will not listen to the melody of your harps.

I felt as if the prophet—or was it God?!—had negated everything to which I had devoted my life. I had to ask over and over again that good Lutheran question, “What does this mean?”

Keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

the time is drawing nigh.

So what do we make of our troubling Scripture readings for today? From our Gospel: “Truly I tell you, I do not know you.” And from our prophet:

I hate, I despise your festivals,

and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies . . . .

Take away from me the noise of your songs;

I will not listen to the melody of your harps.

God does not stop there. God continues:

But let justice roll down like waters,

and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. (Amos 5:24)

It seems God is interested in justice and righteousness. As we read further in Amos, we find that the same people who come to worship on the Sabbath go out and live lives centered on themselves the rest of the week. In so doing, the poor in their midst suffer, and most egregious of all is that some of the so-called righteous not only ignore their suffering but even contribute to it by withholding what they might contribute to help alleviate suffering, and to work for justice.

When we opened our worship this morning singing “Let Justice Roll Like a River,” we were not just singing a peppy, bouncy, upbeat tune; we were committing ourselves to the lyrics we sang . . . or were we? Do we mock the poor and mock God by singing the lyrics but not living them?

Keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

the time is drawing nigh.

Then there’s our Gospel for today: “Truly I tell you, I do not know you.”

Evidently, the bridegroom knew the five wise bridesmaids because they were ready and waiting for him with their lamps burning brightly. They had oil enough to keep their lamps burning. The five foolish bridesmaids had run out of oil, and they were “in the dark,” literally. They were not present to welcome the bridegroom. Therefore, he did not know them.

How would he know them? How would he know anyone of us?

Do you ever receive a card or letter in the mail and know immediately who sent it because you recognize the handwriting? Do you ever pick up the phone and immediately recognize the voice on the other end? Do you ever look at your caller ID and instantly recognize the number of the person calling? Why is that? Does if have to do with being in frequent communication, frequent conversation?

We committed one of our dear ones to the arms of her Lord a couple weeks ago and a candle burned for her on the altar last week on All Saints Sunday. As I spoke with her family in planning her funeral, her brother handed me several pages from her journals, which I had permission to share.

 January 21, 2001, 9:36 p.m.: Jesus, I need you for my Savior, and I claim you for my Savior. I humbly beseech you to heal me.

July 7, 2012: We can’t begin to live until we’re prepared to die.

August 17, 2008: [The] 53^rd Chapter of Isaiah is the heart of the Bible. Please bless me that I might be a blessing. Amen.

Undated entry: “I would like Isaiah 53 to be in my funeral.”

Then, as to be certain that the reader who might find this journal would take her instruction seriously, she signed her name. (Isaiah 53 is one of the Servant Songs of the prophet, interpreted by Christians to prophesy Jesus, the suffering Messiah.)

It was evident that this person read her Bible and that she was a woman of prayer before her Lord. I fully expect that our Lord would have said to this person, “Truly I tell you, I truly know you.”

Keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

the time is drawing nigh.

How do we keep our lamps “trimmed and burning”? It seems it might have to do with having enough oil and to be ready.

I wonder if keeping our lamps trimmed and burning has something to do with our prophet Amos, and God’s admonition,

But let justice roll down like waters,

and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

And I wonder if keeping our lamps trimmed and burning has something to do with being in constant conversation with our Lord, in daily Bible reading, weekly worship, regular Bible study. I wonder if it has something to do with praying unceasingly. Our song continues:

Brother, don’t stop prayin’,

sister, don’t stop prayin’,

brother, don’t stop prayin’,

see what the Lord has done.

Keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

the time is drawing nigh.

Thanks be to God!

"How Shall We Be Known?" and "Taxes to the Emperor"

THE NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Year A, Lectionary 29

October 19, 2014

1 Thessalonians 1:1-10

Matthew 22:15-22

Pastor David Tryggestad

Concordia Evangelical Lutheran Church

Duluth, Minnesota

The painting of the side of the church was completed this week. Now, when the sun shines, you can hardly bear to look directly at the side of the building for the brilliant glare.

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

About a year or so ago in the sauna at the YMCA, I was talking about Concordia. One of the guys asked where we were located. He’s not from around this neighborhood, so when I described the location, he had to think about it for a while. He wondered if we were Glen Avon Presbyterian down Woodland Avenue. When I told him we were further north, just below Hartley Nature Center, he asked, “Are you the church with the big stain on the side?” “Yes, that’s Concordia,” I said.

“How appropriate,” I said, “to be known as the church with the big stain on the side. Our theology holds that we are both saint and sinner, and the stain of sin is always with us.”

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

Just last week I had a conversation with a member who is not sure that it’s a good thing that the church is freshly painted. “The stain reminded me of the blood of Jesus,” she said. I thought to myself, “It’s a good thing to be constantly reminded of the source of our salvation.”

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

A month of so ago I ran into an acquaintance of mine who is a member of another church of another denomination here in Duluth. It’s a congregation that worships in an exquisitely beautiful building, and they have a large endowment to keep the facility in perfect condition. The first thing he said to me was, “When are you going to paint your church and get rid of that big stain on the side of the building?”

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

How will we be known?

Many years ago Kennan Callahan wrote a book, Twelve Keys to an Effective Church. His research indicated that effective churches that bring satisfaction to their members have ministries that change people’s lives. He also noted that poorly kept facilities detract from effective ministry and lead to dissatisfaction in ministry. I’m thinking of the stain on the side of our building. But what was intriguing to me was that, when deficiencies in facilities are corrected—like a new paint job—the end result it not higher satisfaction in the overall ministry. In other words, the elimination of dissatisfaction does not, in and of itself, result in satisfaction. I suspect that in a few weeks, no one will drive past the church and exclaim: “Look at the new paint job!” Rather, it will be taken for granted. It’s expected that a church—or any public building—will keep the facilities in good repair.

So that brings me back to my question that has become my mantra: So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

We will not become known as the church that painted over their stain.

This takes us to our Second Reading from the Apostle Paul, his First Letter to the Thessalonians:

And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for in spite of persecution you received the word with joy inspirited by the Holy Spirit, so that you became an example to all the believers in Macedonia an in Achaia. For the word of the Lord has sounded forth from you not only in Macedonia and Achaia, but in every place your faith in God has become known, so that we have no need to speak about it. For the people of those regions report about us what kind of welcome we had among you, and how you turned to God from idols, to serve a living and true God . . . (1 Thessalonians 1:6-9)

“For the word of the Lord has sounded forth from you . . . in every place your faith in God has become known, so that we have no need to speak about it.”

Imagine a church that has no need of advertising—no billboards, no radio spots, no newspaper ads. Imagine a church that has no need of advertising, because “the word of the Lord has sounded forth from you” and “in every place your faith has become known, so that we have no need to speak about it.”

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

The church in Thessalonica—and throughout Macedonia—northern Greece—became known for their generosity. Hear Paul in his Second Letter to the Corinthians: “. . . for during a severe ordeal of affliction their abundant joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part” (2 Corinthians 8:2).

Scholars are unanimous in telling us that First Thessalonians is the first letter of Paul that we have, dated from around ten to fifteen years after the death of Jesus. It is the earliest Christian writing we have. Ancient coins discovered in Thessalonica indicate that people in the city honored Julius Caesar as “God” and worshiped Emperor Octavian as a “son of God.”

This brings us to our Gospel. The Jewish leaders, trying to trap Jesus, ask, “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor—Caesar—or  not?” Jesus asks them to produce a coin and they present a denarius, a Roman coin with Caesar’s head on it. As it was considered idolatry to pay homage to any graven image other than to God, the Jewish leaders have already indicted themselves by having in their possession such coins.

We have a bird feeder outside our dining room, and our favorite thing to do is to sit and watch the many birds that come to feast. The problem is that the squirrels have managed to outsmart the so-called squirrel-proof feeder. This past week, almost immediately after I had once again filled the feeder to the top with birdseed, one particular squirrel came and held forth over his newly-claimed kingdom. He chased all the other squirrels away and scared off all the birds. The birdseed was his and his alone. I grieved for all the birds he chased away.

I thought about us and our human penchant to believe that all that we have is ours and ours alone. Meanwhile our Lord is watching through the dining room window, lamenting that we guard so closely the abundance the Lord gives to us, intended that we might bless others. Our Confirmation lessons these past two weeks have been about God’s Covenant with the Patriarchs and Matriarchs, that God blessed them to be a blessing.

So I’m wondering how Concordia Lutheran Church will be known to the community, now that the stain is gone.

Our Lord is calling us to be glad and generous stewards of all that God has given us. What would it take for Concordia Lutheran Church to be known to the community as the church of generosity?

Thanks be to God!