Share the Light.
You’ve seen our plans for our next steps and might be wondering, “What’s up with the chapel?” You are not alone. There have been many questions about that space. “Why do we need a chapel?” “What would we do with a chapel?” “Chapel... Huh?”
“Hey! What’s up? How are you doing?”
All too often, we ask these questions out of habit more than out of genuine concern for someone. We lob the inquiry out there without any intention of hearing a response. If we pose the question to a stranger on the sidewalk or an elevator, we only do so as a kind gesture. If we ask a friend, we don’t expect a thoughtful answer that might draw us into the real-life drama and trauma of their lives. It is more of a formality in the greeting moment. Before the question is even completely out of our mouths, we’ve already mentally moved on to something or somewhere else.
A few weeks ago, we started our senior high event by hanging a few giant pieces of paper on the wall. Across the top of each page, we wrote, “I am...” and asked each youth to complete the sentence however they wished. The honesty and vulnerability astounded me.
I am... Anxious. Chocolatey. Confident. Confused. Content. Curious. Dead inside. Disappointed. Excited. Exhausted. Full. Happy. Hopeful. Joyful. Looking forward to something. Loved. Okay. Out of patience! Overwhelmed. Prepared. Pumped. Sore. Stressed. Taking deep breaths. Thinking about a lot of things. Tired. Unique. Excited. Worn Out. Weird. Wondering. Woman.
Right there in our Fellowship Hall, these teens were willing to scribble down the real-life answers to where they found themselves on a Sunday night, no matter whether they were chocolatey, looking forward to something, worn out, or dead inside. Imagine how many other feelings must have been swirling around in their hearts and spirits that they didn’t share with the community? If we listen after we initiate conversation, we can discover exuberant joys and deep sorrows. If we pay attention, others invite us into their lives and experiences.
This Lent, we’ll spend our Wednesday worship times exploring a series of “I am” statements which show up in the Gospel according to John. As Jesus reveals himself to others, he says, “I am the Bread of Life. I am the Light of the World. I am the Door. I am the Good Shepherd. I am the Resurrection and the Life.” What is Jesus trying to tell everyone within earshot about who he is? What might Jesus be saying to us? How do these metaphors invite us into a greater understanding of how God interacts with us and embraces us with an everlasting love?
We have God’s full attention. God asks us how we are doing and sticks around to listen to our response. In our moments of thrill and celebration, as well as our despair and lament, the Creator of the Universe is attentive to the pleas of our voice and heart.
Living in hope,
Pastor Lowell
Rain or shine, February or July, on any lazy Saturday morning, you could usually find my brother and I casting a line at the bottom of the spillway. There was a dam just down the road from where we lived. The spillway created a pool of water with a high concentration of fish. After their plummet down the spillway, the fish collected and began to pile up in the water on top of one another. Of course, this made for easy catch and release fishing, but at the time, my brother and I thought we were professional fishermen.
Oddly enough, the memories of the hours spent fishing at the spillway continued to go through my mind as I participated in a week-long intensive course at the Seminary called Theology in the City. We spent the majority of our time together visiting ministries that serve the most vulnerable of God’s children. We visited many homeless shelters, food pantries, and prisons, all of which were overcrowded and understaffed. One of the overarching themes that began to surface for me was how much I have taken my privacy for granted over the years. For the fish in the spillway, and for hard-living folks in our neighborhoods, privacy is an unfelt luxury.
The image of fish swimming on top of one another at the spillway was on replay as I observed the various ministries of the city. We visited places like J. Jireh Ministries, Van Buren Homeless Shelter, Columbus Dream Center, and the Mid-Ohio Foodbank. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off for me about the church’s role of serving those in need. Most often, the church spends its efforts on meeting immediate needs, and providing short-term solutions. Of course, we are called to feed the hungry and clothe the naked, but what might it look like if we spent some time deconstructing the spillway that created the overwhelming need to begin with? If not the church, then who? Who will fix broken systems in place that work to perpetuate economic oppression?
God is certainly at work when we provide a meal, a home, or even a cup of water. But God is also present when we standup for equality and demand a change to the status quo. God is at work when we engage our local government and voice our cry for compassionate action. When we take a holistic approach to our call to serve, God is revealed in new and transformative ways. God has provided a lake large enough for all of us to swim comfortably. The issues that we face do not stem from a shortage problem, but a distribution problem. We live and serve knowing that God will provide all that we need.
I invite you to lean into the liberation that the gospel offers. Free yourself to give holistically to the precious concerns that we hold dear to our hearts. Through this freedom, others will experience the fullness of God’s love. Soon, and very soon, “creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Romans 8:21). I will meet you at the spillway, and together, we will free the fish.
With a casted line,
Lucas McSurley
There are many opportunities this Lent to wrestle with questions of faith and justice. Consider being part of one of the book studies (listed in on our Events page) or attending one of the seminars (listed in the current Lifeline on page 7).
This blog was written by our member Corey Wagonfield, who is in his second year of seminary.
Dear Lord of Life Lutheran Church,
Thank you so very much for supporting me through my seminary journey to become an ordained pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). This is a call that I have felt since I was very young, but always made excuses as to why it wasn’t the right time. Often it was the fact that seminary costs about $20,000 per semester and I just didn’t have the available funds.
Your monetary gifts and prayers have helped me to live into my calling and allow me to focus on my seminary work instead of stressing about finances. I thank God for bringing you into my life and I pray nightly that God continues to shower blessings upon you.
I am entering my fourth semester at Trinity Seminary, which is now a part of Capital University, after a merger on January 1. I have completed 49 credit hours to date and am taking an additional 18 hours this semester. I will have two thirds of my credit hours completed at the end of this semester, the remaining third will be spread out over the next two years. For the last year, I have also been placed with Prince of Peace Lutheran Church, in Loveland, as a learning in context congregation. I have participated in worship there, preached once, led a confirmation class, taught adult Sunday School classes, and much more. I have one more semester with that congregation as part of my learning in context class and I hope to continue to learn more about preaching from their pastors.
In the Fall Semester, I took New Testament 1, Systematic Theology, Leadership in Context 2, Ministry of Preaching, Leading the Church’s Song, and Musical Leadership for Liturgy. This spring, I will be taking New Testament 2, Children in the Bible, Lutheran Confessions, Theology of Mission, Leadership in Context 3, The Care of Souls, and Being with the Poor. This past summer, I had the pleasure of serving as a Chaplain Intern at Trinity Community in Beavercreek, as part of a summer unit of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE). It was a summer-long intensive that focuses on getting to know yourself, how you relate to people, how you relate to high-pressure situations, and much more. It was an amazing learning experience, but also extremely draining.
To most who meet him now, Davis Conrad is a typical 95-year-old man living at Bethany Lutheran Village in Dayton. For hundreds of people who worshiped with him, attended a concert at his church, or sang under his direction, he is a master of his trade; a member of an almost-lost generation of musicians who produced legendary music programs during a golden era of corporate worship. At Hope Lutheran Church, his retirement after decades of faithful service - coupled with changes to the surrounding neighborhood - led to the end of a once-storied music tradition.
It has been more than twenty years since he left. Through some Dayton friends I discovered that Hope was ready to part with its music library – hundreds of pieces of music that were sung joyfully on Sundays, Christmas, Easter, feast days, clergy installations, and bishop celebrations, including several that were commissioned especially for their esteemed choir. A gift to Lord of Life, if we would take it.
As I shared the news with some of our own choir members, I discovered connections to Hope Church that I never would have expected – Pastor Ed Williams spent a great deal of time at Hope when he was on the Synod staff; Pastor Bill Funk, who has been singing with us for two years, was an associate pastor at Hope for three years.
When I arrived to pick up the music, the secretary looked at my car and said, “you might have to make a few trips in that.” She wasn’t kidding. Seven filing cabinets, each with four drawers, full from front to back and a desk filled with music. What an amazing gift. Mr. Conrad’s notes on his copy of each piece – a lifetime of study, planning, practice, and teaching; a legacy from which to build.
I managed to empty six of the filing cabinets and the desk in one trip. I was so excited to bring it all home; I filled every nook and cranny. As I’ve gone through it all, I’m humbled to piece together the rich history contained among the pages. I’m sad there are so few people at Hope to share in that history, but it will live on through our own worship and offerings.
It will take me many weeks to sort through all of our new music. Once I have, I’ll invite anyone who would like to join us for a “sing through” – I’ll pick out some of my favorites and we’ll sing through them just to hear them for ourselves. Mark your calendars for Tuesday, April 10 at 7 pm!
With gratitude,
John
Fingers are crossed, eyes are glued to the bottom of the screen during the evening news, and you have already eaten your packed lunch in the fridge because you’re so confident that tomorrow will be a Snow Day. How exciting is a whole day to goof around as snow falls outside? Days of playing games in the snow and then cozying up close to the fire are the kind of winter days I longed for as a kid. Snow Days were the best!
While in high school, I had an amazing job on the weekends and throughout the summer working as a counselor for an outdoor camp. At this camp, we often served the youth from the urban core of Cincinnati. While the kids were with us in the outdoors, nearly everything they got to do at camp was a first-time experience. It was so transformative for me to witness these children see a deer for the first time, or to finally be able to see the Big Dipper in the night sky, or to play in and around a large pond. Prior to working at this camp, I had no idea that there were kids so close to my home that never experienced these basic joys that I experienced nearly every day.
One morning, I was leading a group of campers through the woods to the cafeteria for breakfast, I asked “what is your favorite thing to do on a Snow Day?” They took turns sharing as we all nodded in agreement for each response. Eventually, the only person left to give a response was the little boy holding my hand as we walked. I said to him directly, “what’s your favorite thing about a Snow Day?” There was a long silence until he finally said “I don’t like Snow Days, because there is no school that day, and that means I don’t get to eat that day.” My heart sank, and suddenly, I never desired a Snow Day in the same way again.
As temperatures drop, God’s most precious children grow colder while they’re forced to live outside. As winter months settle in, social services grow more crowded and more of God’s children battle with hunger. This year, I witnessed the Holy Spirit hard at work through Lord of Life as our guests from Family Promise called this place home during the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Family Promise is an inter-faith ministry that equips congregations to respond to local homelessness.
Our call to respond came during a week that most consider to be a “Snow Day.” In the midst of resting, playing games, and staying home, God filled our hearts and empowered us to serve others. Although play and rest are an important part of our lives, I am thankful that God is still at work on a Snow Day. God continues to show up day after day, season after season, snow fall after snow fall.
With a Serving Heart,
Lucas McSurley
“The mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song,
and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.” Isaiah 55:12
I never understood this phrase. Singing hills and clapping trees? I’ve heard the passage in worship for years and read it occasionally in my own devotional life. I’ve savored the beauty of creation from expansive vistas and lush valleys, but I’ve never witnessed trees clapping their hands, except for the creepy scene in The Wizard of Oz when the trees cheer and jeer and toss apples at Dorothy and her traveling companions.
On Christmas Eve, we read some similar words from Psalm 96, which describes all of creation raising their voices at the coming of the Lord. The Psalm culminates with a rejoicing earth, roaring seas, and “all the trees of the forest singing for joy” (v.11 ff.). For some reason, on that holy night, the words of the psalm writer began to make sense.
Maybe they began to make sense because of the howling wind that blew snow and knocked around trees, as well as rustled Christmas Eve clothes and hair. Maybe understanding carved a path in the ringing hand bells and singing voices, the flickering candles and sparkling lights. Maybe, faith and understanding connected through spoken Scripture and sung refrains telling of the night that Christ was born. Maybe, clarity came in the hot chocolate and coffee which flowed freely and the warm greetings and hugs of reunions, as friends and family connected.
Thankfully, our “Jesus Christ is born!” declarations weren’t only contained within the walls of sanctuaries and worship spaces. Outside, all creation joined in the birthday announcement, too. The glistening trees, falling snow, whipping wind, and hush of bedtime led us into Christmas morning and beyond. Did I hear some trees of the field clapping their hands?
This side of the Christmas and New Year celebrations, the rejoicing isn’t as easily found. The cleansing, white blanket of snow has turned to black slosh on roads and icy clumps clinging to our wheel wells. Garbage cans are overflowing, neighborhood curbside recyclers have extra cardboard packaging to pick-up, and the lifeless, naked Christmas trees are discarded as they wait to be hauled off. Inside, many of us have already packed up decorations and crammed lights and ornaments back into their nests for an 11-month nap. For some, the happy buzz of glad tidings have given way to the daily grind.
As we jump into the new year, creation won’t allow our exclamations to end. Christ is born and the world is changed! All creation, including us, is summoned to declare it. We continue to celebrate and look for renewal. We continue to cry out for justice and peace. We pray for those who are ill, lost, or alone. We work to care for the Earth and one another. Could it be that all creation cannot help but respond to the arrival of God coming among us?
The very end of the Psalms says as much: “Let everything that breathes praise the Lord! (Psalm 150:6).
Joy to the world!
Pastor Lowell