Image by Chris Cook, https://www.chriscookartist.com/
I love learning about the history of languages and how they have evolved over the millennia. Figuring out those words and parts of words we share with other speakers now or in the ancient past can inform how I might use words differently, pronounce difficult phrases, how lyrics fit into music, and it even helps me and Brian complete the New York Times Crossword Puzzle every day.
I’ve been reading a book called Proto: How One Ancient Language Went Global. It explores the history of our language through the lens of what we’ve learned through ancestral DNA and how Western language, and also the stories language can tell, spread from relatively few speakers to the roots of all of the Indo-Europian language. The social, political, economic, intellectual, and religious implications are staggering. Not only do we find that English shares history from North America and Europe through Saudi Arabia, India, and Russia, but also find that quite a few of the stories we learn in the Old Testament share history with similar stories across the same cultures.
Within the first chapter, author Laura Spinney explores how communities were driven away from the Black Sea by a major flood event (think Noah’s ark) and spread in various directions away from the sea. This is all confirmed through archeology and genetic research. Some cultures continued a nomadic lifestyle, tending herds of sheep and hunting for food. Others developed farming and settled down. As farmers expanded their settlements and nomads continued to roam, they ran into each other from time to time, and things weren’t always peaceful. An entire ideological shift had happened between them - the language of the people who roamed the world without boundaries was based on an ethos of sharing and welcome, where the language of the farmers was based on ownership and boundaries.
Somewhere in all of this, we find the seeds of the Cain and Abel story. Cain, a farmer, had a settled area that he cultivated and defended. Abel, a shepherd, roamed the plains and shared from his herd. When they made offerings to God, Cain gave some of his crops, maybe out of obligation. The ones he didn’t use for himself or offer to God, he would have sold. Abel gave the first-born, the fattest of his herd. As a nomad, he would have been more likely to share his bounty among a community rather than selling it in a traditional sense. Cain ends up feeling rejected by God—his lands go fallow, and, out of jealousy, he murders his brother.
We see this story play out in the real archeological record—not among actual brothers, but among people of similar ancestry whose paths diverged and then came back together. Bands of settlers trying to establish the first fixed communities find that staying in one place doesn’t always work out. Weather changes, different needs arise, and the firm boundaries they try to implement are eroded by powers outside of their control. The same is true today; even the most careful investors and business people might fail because of market trends or natural disasters.
The more flexible nomads, who always look for the most fertile ground for their flock and have an attitude of sharing from their abundance, are more equipped to succeed despite outside forces.
As is so often the case in Bible stories, it would be easy to say this could imply we shouldn’t have boundaries or own things of our own. I don’t think we have to interpret it that way. We’re allowed to have nice things. But there is a big difference between having walls so permanent that nothing goes in or out and living with a spirit of abundance in which we welcome our neighbors and share freely.
How does the story of Cain and Abel apply to your life and the world we live in now?
John Johns, Director of Music
David Hayward, who creates provocative images under the name Naked Pastor (www.nakedpastor.com), drew the image pictured here, entitled “Eraser” that stops me in my tracks every time I see it. Hayward says of this image, “Jesus Eraser is a reminder that not everything is set in stone forever. You can change the story, erase the lines, and create something new.” The illustration has profound overtones of forgiveness, redemption, and
new beginnings.
While the erasing Jesus is beautiful and captivating, I can’t help but also notice that everyone else in the image is focused on scribbling to make new lines and thicken existing boundaries. They are determined to maintain the boxes and barriers that carve out their little corners of the world.
Why do we devote so much of our time drawing lines and borders? Why do we spend our lives – our energy, money, and time – clinging to our little plots of life when God offers us so much more through shared community?
I was moved by Faith Formation Director Angie Seiller’s recent Children’s Message when she openly wondered what it meant that God loved all people. (www.tinyurl.com/childrensmessage61). Angie asked, “Have you heard of the word ‘all’? It’s a pretty big meaning for a teeny tiny word.”
Section by section, she had groups of people stand up in the worship space and kept asking the kiddos, “Is this all? Is this everyone?” “No!” the kids yelled. So she added another group and another and another until everyone in the worship space was standing. Still, this wasn’t all. There were those who were watching online and those beyond our Lutheran Christian community who are enveloped in God’s encompassing “all.”
Jesus spent his whole ministry challenging people to think and look and love beyond themselves. He moved beyond the existing limitations of Jew and Gentile, clean and unclean, men and women, wealthy and poor, inviting us into a more expansive and comprehensive life.
Paul in his letter to the Romans focused on integrated communities and faith, too. Not only are we all recipients of God’s grace, but we are called to love and care for one another in deep and meaningful ways.
Martin Luther, in his commentary on the book of Romans (1519), spoke of humanity’s tendency to become ‘curved in on itself’ (homo incurvatus in se). Our self-absorption literally leads to naval-gazing. But Paul refuses to let preoccupation with ourselves be our guiding purpose. Instead, centered in Jesus and empowered by the Spirit of God, he teaches us to embrace a life lived for others.
“Love from the center of who you are; don’t fake it.
Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good.
Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle.
Don’t burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame.
Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant.
Don’t quit in hard times; pray all the harder.
Help needy Christians; be inventive in hospitality.”
(Romans 12:9-13 from Eugene Peterson’s The Message)
How is God calling you to live and love beyond yourself this summer? Who do you struggle to include in God’s encompassing “all”? What lines of division would you like to erase?
May our communal mission at Lord of Life to live, share, and celebrate with all people give you purpose and clarity as we are fueled by the love of God.
Come, Lord Jesus, come.
Pastor Lowell Michelson
The transitions I have made in my life have been filled with many hellos and goodbyes. They have also been overflowing with gifts and words of encouragement, gratitude, and love from the communities I have been a part of. I have a collection of various items including a Bible, a Protestant rosary, specially crafted canvases, hand-made cards, custom jewelry, and blankets from the different places I have been in community with.
To some people, these items may seem like they do not hold significant value, but to me, they represent the unique groups of people that I have gotten to be a part of and impacted my life.
On certain days, I enjoy spending time looking at these items to remind myself how these places and God have wrapped me in their love and care during my time with them, and continue to do so. It feels like getting a warm hug from both that community and God.
Can you remember a season of change in your life? These changes in life have likely been accompanied by gifts, uplifting words, and love, but also big emotions such as excitement and sadness as the transition happens.
Scripture reminds us that regardless of where we go, God goes with us. In the book of Joshua, the Lord commissions Joshua to lead the Israelites. This was likely a terrifying new circumstance for Joshua. However, God told Joshua the following: “Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9). This was a reminder to Joshua that no matter where he was going God was journeying with him.
The Word of God also reminds us that we are constantly wrapped in the love of God. In Psalm 36:7, it says, “How precious is your steadfast love, O God! All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings”. No matter where we go, we are constantly being held by God, who continues to swaddle us in love even when we leave different communities and people. Wherever you end up in your life transitions, I pray that you are reminded of the ways the communities you have been a part of impacted you and the ways God continues to hold you.
How do you feel God wrapping you in his love during your life transitions? Have you ever received a gift that felt like a warm hug from God?
Continually held,
Pastor Nicole
When we volunteer at Tikkun Farm, we are always welcomed warmly and invited to have fresh baked goods and coffee. We then gather in a circle and share something that we are thankful for. This is followed by a tour of the farm. Each time we go, there is something new to learn about life there, or their mission of restoring people, communities, and nature or even about yourself. Their new walkway through the orchard and gardens was a highlight last Saturday, as it makes them accessible and welcoming to all.
On this visit, we also heard that Max, the abused pig, who had found respite, peace, and love, was now truly resting in peace with all the farm animals that had gone before him. So many of God’s creatures have been rescued and loved at Tikkun while giving joy in return.
After our tour, we volunteer for projects around the farm that fit our skills or interests. There are always a variety of tasks. I’m usually the one chopping vegetables or planting small plants or weeding, so it surprised me when I raised my hand to hang bunting in the barn. The project leader explained that they needed to do this to turn an old barn into an inviting place for their upcoming fundraising dinners. She wasn’t a “ladder person” and it needed to be placed fairly high. I wasn’t a “ladder person” either or at least only a “6 ft. ladder person”! I’m married to a firefighter; he is the “tall ladder person” in our family! But no one else was raising their hand besides another lovely woman who said she would help as she could but wasn’t really a “ladder person” either.
So off we went to do the best we could with the gifts we had or the gifts we hoped we had. What a mighty team we ended up being! Each person doing their part and always making sure they were my spotters, ladder holders, and encouragers. Was I nervous? Yes. Did I think to myself, “I am going to crush these women if I fall?” Yep. Did I say a prayer that God would keep me safe? You bet!
Have you ever taken a leap of faith or stepped out of your comfort zone? Maybe you are out of your comfort zone now with life circumstances, the unrest in our country, or an opportunity that has been presented. Maybe you feel comfortable but not satisfied. Maybe there is something you feel like you need to do but don’t know how to take the first steps. Maybe there is doubt.
My ladder experience certainly wasn’t life-altering, but it was a step to encourage me to try new things and a reminder that taking risks can be scary, but the end result can be completely worth it. Maybe that old barn with the newly hanging bunting will be the catalyst for someone to give their monetary gifts to fuel the beautiful mission of Tikkun Farm. Where can you raise your hand to say, “here I am, Lord. I need you to lead me through this next step”?
No matter which rung on the ladder God is stirring you to take, trust in the things that God is placing on your heart and moving you forward to declare, “we walk by faith, not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:7).
Walking in faith with you,
Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation
I have been married for just over a year, which means that many conversations between my husband and I reach a point of raised, frustrated voices and end with “That’s what you meant?!” We’re still learning how to communicate about some things.
I live three hours from my closest friends, so every Tuesday night, three of us have a standing appointment for a FaceTime call together. Another one I talk to several times a week by us sending each other videos back and forth, ranging from 30 seconds to 20 minutes each.
Sometimes my dog gets upset with me when I have to get some work done and can’t play with her, even though she’s in the mood to play (like right now). I have to make it up to her later with an extra long walk.
The underlying theme in all of those snippets of my life is this: Relationships take work. Even a relationship with God takes work.
Mine has been a work in progress for close to 24 years, which is why I’m willing to admit that sometimes it feels like really hard work for me. I struggle with God, not too differently from how Jacob and David famously did (Genesis 32 and 1 Chronicles 13:11 respectively). Of course, their struggles with God weren’t about the same things that mine are, but I would be willing to bet that they often had the same basis as mine: God didn’t do what we thought He would or should, or God wasn’t who we thought He should be.
I’ve been angry with God quite a bit over the last year. Things haven’t gone the way I thought they would go. Decisions have been harder to make because answers from God have been unclear. Friendships have been more difficult to establish than I thought they would be. A spiritual mentor once shared with me that doubt in God can look like disappointment that He didn’t meet your expectations.
The good news is that faith and doubt can co-exist. Wrestling with God, for me, is often a sign that I am actively growing in faith and working on the relationship I have with Him. Doubt does not diminish faith.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the magic answer key for having the perfect relationship with God and trusting everything He does. All I can offer is this: You are not alone. You are not alone in your doubting, in your wishing, in your waiting, in your hurting, or in your rejoicing. God does not leave us or forsake us, even when we doubt (Deuteronomy 31:6-8, Hebrews 13:5).
In what ways are you wrestling with God or have you wrestled with God? How is God meeting you in your doubt? What relationships in your life need a little extra work right now? Who can you walk alongside in faith?
As you wait and watch and wrestle, know that I join you in this journey of faith.
Struggling with you,
Maddie Pease
Sometimes you’ll pick a little up at Christmas worship. Or maybe at Easter. Perhaps a child you know gets excited about a project they worked on in Sunday School and as they explain it to you, a little bit of it stays with you. Once in a while you go to a wedding or a quinceanera and when you get home at the end of the day you look in the mirror and realize you’ve brought home a little something extra from the day.
I’m talking, of course, about glitter.
There aren’t many places in the church where you can’t find at least a little glitter. It shows up in tiny specs that you only see if the light hits it just right, and in big chunks that you can’t miss. In some ways, the big chunks are easier to deal with. They can be picked up by hand, or vacuumed, or ignored completely, which is often the case. But the tiny glitter… it is pervasive. You see it, and by the time you bring the lint roller over to try to pick it up, you can’t find it any more. So it lies in wait until the next time the light hits it and you are reminded of whatever event brought the glitter to church in the first place.
I find that glitter has a lot in common with Sunday morning worship. Not that we tend to be too flashy, but we go home carrying bits of it with us. It might be a tune stuck in our head or a line from the sermon. Maybe just an idea or a feeling that gets us going for the week. Maybe it’s the sense of fellowship we get from a familiar community.
Do we remember every moment from Sunday morning? No. I help plan Sunday worship and even I can’t hold on to all the thoughts and ideas from week to week. But just like that elusive glitter, these little pieces of Sunday morning lodge themselves in unexpected corners of our lives. They might not be immediately apparent, but when the right situation arises – a moment of doubt, a need for encouragement, a chance to offer compassion – that tiny, previously unnoticed fragment of worship sparkles to the surface. It reminds us of a truth we heard, a feeling we shared, or a connection we made.
The beauty of this lingering "glitter" of worship is its subtlety. It's not about perfectly remembering every detail, but about the gentle, persistent influence of the sacred in our everyday lives. It's about the way the messages of love, grace, and justice seep into our consciousness and shape our interactions with the world.
So, the next time you find a stray speck of glitter clinging to your clothes or sparkling on your floor, perhaps it can serve as a reminder of the less tangible, yet equally persistent, gifts we receive each time we gather for worship. These are the little pieces of the holy that we carry with us, often unseen, but always present, ready to shimmer when the light hits them just right, guiding us and reminding us of the deeper truths that sustain us. And just like that glitter, the impact of our shared worship extends far beyond the walls of the church, subtly and beautifully coloring the world around us.
John Johns
One of the easiest ways I can annoy or embarrass my kids is to pull out some fresh Gen X slang from 1986! “Dudes! I’m so stoked to hang and chill with you guys at the mall!” Not only would they probably shake their heads and call me their “old man,” but they may also need a translator. Because several of these words don’t mean what they used to mean, I run the risk of them not understanding what I’m trying to say.
As someone who spends their life working with words, it intrigues and frustrates me how quickly language can morph. A recent article posted on BBC offers three reasons why language is always changing:
Our language around faith and theology is not exempt from these shifting patterns.
I remember when my local congregation made the shift in the Apostles’ Creed from “descended into hell” to “descended to the dead” when I was a teen. I stumbled over the change for months, but grew to appreciate the clarity. So much of what we associate with hell is imported from cultural references in books and film, not from the biblical witnesses. By the way, there’s still a footnote about this change in our cranberry Evangelical Lutheran Worship hymnal.
This month, Lord of Life and our larger church body, along with dozens of other denominations, will be switching the translation of the Bible we use in worship. For many years, our denomination has encouraged Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) congregations to use the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV), but this will be replaced with the New Revised Standard Version updated edition (NRSVue) this summer.
Why the shift? The Yale Divinity Library for New Testament studies writes, “The NRSVue reflects discoveries of ancient texts [such as the Dead Sea Scrolls] and new insights made in the 30 years since the NRSV was last revised. This newly-updated translation offers clearer, more direct, and inclusive language, and increased cultural sensitivity absent of the unintended biases of prior versions. The NRSVue includes over 10,000 substantial revisions and 20,000 minor revisions. Some of the NRSVue changes include:
This Easter season, we are also making a shift in the Lord’s Prayer we use in our communal worship moments. We frequently bounce back and forth between what you may know as the “traditional” Lord’s Prayer, taken from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer in 1662, and an alternate version which has been in steady circulation since 1977. Beginning May 4, we’ll only use the newer version.
Why the shift? There are a few reasons, including the biblical reality that God doesn’t lead us into temptation. “Save us from the time of trial” speaks more truth about who God is and how we seek deliverance. An additional shift relates to how we speak. All of our language has shifted away from the King’s English, so the way we speak this most intimate prayer should follow.
As always, you are encouraged to use your favorite translation of the Bible for your devotion, study, and prayer times. Referencing a variety of versions helps us stretch our hearts and minds, and gain greater insight into how God continues to faithfully speak to God’s people. Read, study, and pray whatever version speaks to your heart.
Thank you for your patience as we make these shifts. Together, we strive to make Lord of Life a place where all can live, share, and celebrate the love of Jesus with clarity and hope.
Leaning into Hope!
Pastor Lowell Michelson
For more details about the NRSVue shift, visit https://www.friendshippress.org/pages/about-the-nrsvue and https://www.christiancentury.org/article/interview/even-better-bible.