“Facts are the cornerstones of reality. At least, they used to be. In today's ultra-polarized environment, however – marked by deep political divisions, heightened social tensions, and a deluge of misinformation and fake news – facts are rather less certain in people's minds than they once were.”

This quote from Peter Dockrill, in the Australian online science journal Science Alert (www.sciencealert.com, Feb 1, 2021), confirmed what many of us have suspected and witnessed: facts don't hold the weight and certitude they once did.

Dockrill argues, “If you really want to stand a chance of changing somebody's mind on a serious topic, there's something else you should be telling them: Your own personal experiences.”

This has always been the strategy of the Christian faith – testimony. From the beginning, those who encountered the living God shared their own experiences, declaring what they knew to be true. Over and over, first person accounts of redemption, forgiveness, reconciliation, healing, and even resurrection moved skeptics and naysayers to belief. Those who saw, heard, and tasted the goodness of God could speak with assurance after experiencing the presence of the living God.

Personal experiences are what constitute much of our Holy Scripture. The Bible is a journal filled with people sharing their God encounters.

The leper couldn’t keep their mouth shut after Jesus’ cleansing touch (Mark 1:39-45), but recounted their story while displaying their renewed skin for all to see. Zacchaeus was so overwhelmed by Jesus’ presence and forgiveness that he made amends with all he had scammed (Luke 19:1-10).

A Samaritan woman went to the well to draw a bucket of water, but also found her heart filled with living water when she encountered Jesus (John 4:1-42). John tells us, “Many Samaritans from that city believed in Jesus because of the woman’s testimony.”

After experiencing a “great light from heaven” which called him by name, the prolific persecutor of Christians, Saul/Paul, became one of the greatest missionaries and disciples of Jesus, telling stories of hope and freedom grounded in Christ. (Acts 22 and beyond).

What’s your story? How have you encountered God? When have you been overwhelmed by the presence of the Creator in creation? When has Jesus walked with you or a loved one? Have you heard the still small voice of the Holy Spirit? How do you share these stories with your family, friends, and strangers?

Sharing our encounters with the living God is so central to what we do at Lord of Life that we’ve included it in our mission statement – “live, share, and celebrate!” Yes, sharing includes offering our time to serve God and neighbor. And yes, sharing involves being generous with our finances, but it also demands that we tell the stories of faith. We not only share the biblical stories and those who have gone before us, but also share what we have seen with our eyes and hearts.

I love to tell the Story,
Pastor Lowell Michelson

I grew up in the golden age of Saturday morning cartoons. The concept of ‘screen time’ hadn’t been invented yet, and I was allowed to watch them for as long as they were on. I am still a die-hard Looney Tunes fan. One of my favorite storylines features Sam, the sheepdog, and Ralph, the coyote. For those of you who haven’t seen it: we see Sam and Ralph walking to work, lunchpails in hand. They greet each other, punch in at a time clock, and then spend the morning pursuing opposing goals. Ralph tries to capture sheep, and Sam repeatedly thwarts him. Then, the noon bell rings, and Sam and Ralph eat lunch side by side. After lunch, they resume their antics until it’s time to clock out. They bid each other goodnight and walk home.

The comedy of the Sam and Ralph skit comes from their diametrically opposing goals. As a community of faith, we are fortunate to begin all discussions and conflict resolution with a common goal of sharing God’s love with everyone. Yes, we all have very different life experiences that often give us opposing ideas on how to achieve our mission, but we are grounded in the bedrock of being beloved siblings in Christ. One of the best experiences I have at Lord of Life is being part of the couples’ Bible study. We joke that we eat dinner, laugh together, and sometimes even talk about the Bible. In reality, I feel that the friendships formed through eating and talking together give us the strength and confidence to really wrestle with the big questions of faith. We don’t always agree, but I always come away with something challenging to think about. I am grateful for everyone’s candor and respect, and I value every friendship I have made there. 

I thought back to Sam and Ralph as unlikely models of Christian behavior as I reflected on Pastor Lowell’s recent sermons. In these interesting times, we are all out in the world just trying to get by, confronting evil, and looking for a bit of hope. What a difference it makes in our day, or even in our life, when someone else takes the time to acknowledge us, sit side by side with us for a while, or wish us well before going on their way. What difference would it make in the world if we shared the gentle, patient, kind fruits of the Spirit with those we view as an enemy: An elected official? A reporter? A millionaire? A person experiencing homelessness? A scientist? An NRA member? A Greenpeace member? A protestor? An ICE agent? 

No matter who you are or what you believe or don’t believe, I wish you love, joy, peace, forbearance, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. I want to sit with you and hear your story. I hope it challenges me to live like Jesus.  

Your sibling in Christ,
Cara Hasselbeck

Two weeks ago, I had the unique opportunity to visit the Holy Land with my brother to attend the Consecration of the new ELCA Bishop of the Holy Land, Bishop Dr. Imad Haddad. My short journey was defined by profound swings of emotion and deep gratitude. It is a place that is steeped in the deeply spiritual and incredibly tragic at the same time.

I felt a heavy sadness when walking the cobblestones of the Via Dolorosa in old Jerusalem (Latin for the “Sorrowful Way” – the pathway Jesus walked to his crucifixion) and immense joy following the marching band procession as we weaved our way through the same streets to celebrate Bishop Haddad at the Church of the Redeemer. Or an extreme weight at walking through the Olive trees at the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus prayed with his disciples before his crucifixion to the awe of standing where Jesus was born and cradled in Mary’s arms in Bethlehem at the Church of the Nativity. For any believer, these are not mere historical sites; they are walking where the Prince of Peace lived and shared the message of God’s love to all, especially those who are marginalized.

As we moved between the birthplace of Jesus in Bethlehem and the holy sites of Jerusalem, we were also forced to confront the modern reality of the Palestinian people. Daily life is burdened with slow, intrusive checkpoints with armed guards and the random, intentional closing of checkpoints that forces hours of rerouting. Families that have lived on the land for generations are treated as outsiders. It is heartbreaking to pray at the site of the Nativity while knowing that, just outside the door, many Palestinian Christians and Muslims face systemic displacement, economic hardship, and a lack of basic independence.

I understand that the history and conflict in the Holy Land is deeply complicated and tragic on many levels, but experiencing this once seemingly far away land has been eye opening. I have so much more to learn and am filled with gratitude for this opportunity. I pray that this experience in the footsteps of Jesus—in the places he lived, preached, and was crucified under Roman occupation—deepens my empathy and understanding of those who are marginalized and oppressed, both in places we can’t see and right at our doorstep.

We can’t honor the Jesus of the past if we are indifferent to the realities of the present. Pray with me that our hearts and minds are opened to paths of peace, empathy, action and love as Jesus’ life and ministry teach us.

Always learning and growing with you,
Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation

“Generosity is contagious!”

This refrain kept popping up as our church council gathered recently and spent time reviewing the joys of the last year, before jumping into the exciting things ahead for 2026. Across everything we witnessed and participated in over the last twelve months – worship, serving, finances, prayers, caring for one another, living, sharing, and celebrating, generosity was a holy and active contagion among us!

Even if you didn’t personally step into some of these areas, our collective community – of which you are a part – certainly did. I name you as part of the joy of generosity that dwells among us.

You helped make worship moments happen. Not only showing up, reading Scripture, leading prayers, offering music, or serving communion, but also greeting those who came through the doors by offering a word of welcome, refreshing the coffee, helping people find a seat, clicking slides, zooming cameras, baking bread, pouring wine, tidying up the sanctuary, and vacuuming following the bustle of services.

You helped haul trees in for Advent decorating, hang wreaths and garland, string lights, and stage Nativity sets in a variety of locations and then, with virtually no warning, six weeks later you stuck around after worship or came back after brunch to pack up trees, lights, Nativity scenes, greenery, and other Christmas decorations.

You dropped off hundreds of canned goods to replenish empty food pantry shelves. You donated new and gently used tennis shoes and boots for those in need of reliable footwear. You added extra gloves and hats to your shopping list so we could smother our Tree of Warmth and then share winter essentials with those in need of a little extra snuggle. You purchased toys and gift cards so no child would have to go without on Christmas morning.

You went above and beyond with your financial generosity so we could not only meet our mission spending plan goals, but also embrace an additional opportunity to repave the parking lot and install a new sound system.

You dropped off gift cards for grocery stores and gas stations so we could help people in need when they swing by unexpectedly in moments of personal crisis or acute need.

You created cozy bedrooms and served delicious and nutritious meals for Family Promise guests who called Lord of Life home while experiencing a season of being unhoused.

You sat with someone who needed to talk. You visited someone in the hospital. You drove someone to a doctor’s appointment, gave a lift to worship, and picked up a friend for a book or Bible study. You called a friend you haven’t seen at church for a while and texted someone “God’s Peace be with you!” during worship.

I could go on and on with the beautiful ways that this sacred virus of generosity has infected our lives and is spreading in our communities.

Our theme for worship, learning, and serving moments this year comes from Micah 6:8:

“He has told you, O mortal, what is good, and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God?”

Thank you for the countless ways your heart, mind, words, prayers, hands, and feet are in motion for God’s work among us. I hope that our generosity and joy continue to spread hope to people and places we cannot imagine!

Come, Lord Jesus, come!
Pastor Lowell Michelson

Now that we’ve gotten through the hustle and bustle of Christmas, we enter the season of Epiphany. This is a time in the church year dedicated to "manifestation"—the revealing of Christ’s light to the world. It is a season when we celebrate the star that guided the Magi, the voice from heaven at Jesus’ baptism calling him "Beloved," and the promise that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. You heard this is our prayers and songs last Sunday.

But this week, the darkness feels overwhelmingly heavy.

On Wednesday morning, in the light of day, Renee Nicole Good—a 37-year-old mother, a poet, and a child of God—was shot and killed by an ICE agent in Minneapolis. She had just dropped her six-year-old son off at school. She was sitting in her car with her wife. She was not a "threat to national security" or a "domestic terrorist," as some fearful narratives have already tried to paint her. She was a woman who loved Jesus, who once led youth mission trips to Northern Ireland, and who wrote poetry about the beauty and messiness of life.

As we process the horror of this event, we cannot separate our theology from our reality. We cannot sing hymns about the light of the world while closing our eyes to the shadows of state violence stretching across our own streets.

In the lectionary, the joy of the Magi’s visit in Matthew 2 is immediately followed by terror. King Herod, hearing of a new "King of the Jews," feels his power threatened. He does not respond with curiosity or welcome; he responds with a "preemptive strike." He orders the slaughter of the innocents in Bethlehem.

Herod’s violence was born of fear—a fear that power is a zero-sum game, that the existence of the "other" is a threat to the "self."

When we hear the conflicting reports from Minneapolis—agents screaming contradictory orders, a mother trying to maneuver her car away from danger, and the lethal response of a government agent—we are witnessing the modern echo of that Herodian fear. It is a fear that sees a citizen, a neighbor, a mother, as an enemy to be eliminated rather than a life to be protected.

The Church and Criminal Justice: Hearing the Cries, issued by the ELCA, reminds us that "Justice is not an abstract concept... it is a matter of life and death." When law enforcement (or in this case, federal immigration agents) operates with a mindset of militarized fear rather than community protection, it is the innocent who suffer. Renee’s death is a tragic manifestation of a system that has become too quick to draw weapons and too slow to see humanity.

The narrative trying to spin her death—labeling her a "terrorist" for allegedly trying to flee a chaotic situation—is an attempt to strip her of the dignity we are afforded by our Baptism. It is a dehumanizing tactic used to justify the unjustifiable. As Lutherans, we are called to speak the truth in love, which means we must fiercely reject lies that demonize victims of violence.

We must also name the context of this tragedy. While Renee was a U.S. citizen, she was killed during an immigration enforcement operation. Our immigrant neighbors live under this shadow of fear daily. The ELCA has long stood for the welcome of the stranger and the protection of the vulnerable. When the tactics of enforcement become so aggressive that they claim the lives of bystanders and citizens in broad daylight, we must ask: What has our silence cost us?

Epiphany is not just about looking at the light; it is about being the light.

If we are to be the church of the Epiphany in 2026, we cannot look away from the video footage or the grief of a wife screaming for her partner. We must let the light reveal the hard truths about police and federal agency violence in our communities.

We pray for Renee’s wife, Becca, and her three children, now left to navigate a world without their mother. We pray for the city of Minneapolis, once again grieving a life stolen on its streets.

But we must do more than pray. We must act. We must demand the transparency and accountability that our faith requires. We must stand with the "Holy Innocents" of our day—those vulnerable to the machinery of power and fear.

Light reveals. May this tragedy reveal the urgent need for justice, so that no more families are left weeping in Ramah, refusing to be comforted because their children are no more.

Yours in the Light,
John Johns

“A Charlie Brown Christmas” turns 60 this year! How can that be? It seems like just yesterday when my family gathered around the TV to watch this favorite, animated classic. For those of us who are older, we remember the time when you had to watch a program at a specific time and day. If you missed it, you would have to wait another year.

I admit, “A Charlie Brown Christmas” wasn’t always my favorite. I preferred the more exciting shows like “Frosty the Snowman” or “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” It was the action and suspense of these stories that hooked me, even after watching them repeatedly every year and knowing that everything turns out alright when the abominable snowman was chasing Rudolph and his friends or when Karen rides on Frosty’s back to escape the evil magician. This isn’t surprising in our world of more exciting technology and algorithms that are designed to keep you looking for the next best thing.

It's only as an adult that I appreciate the essence and heart of this classic show. Charlie Brown’s despair over the commercialization of Christmas and his journey towards discovering the true meaning of Christmas. As we celebrate the 60^th year, I found out about the overlooked moment when Linus drops his blanket while he is reciting the Christmas story in the Gospel of Luke (Luke 2:8-14). Did you notice this when you watched it?

As the angel proclaims to the shepherds to “fear not,” Linus drops the thing that always makes him feel secure and safe. In that moment, he realizes that he can let go of his worldly security, his blanket. The good news of the birth of Jesus, our Savior, allows him to simply drop the false security he has been grasping so tightly and to learn to trust and rely on Jesus instead.

This world can be a scary place and most of us find ourselves grasping onto something temporal to bring us security. It’s hard for us to “fear not.” What are you holding onto that doesn’t allow you the freedom to live fully in Christ’s promises and love? Money? Reliance on someone else? Fear of getting out of your comfort zone? Fear of what others might think of you? Fear of the unknown?

While I still love the idea of a special once-a-year viewing of “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” the message resonates throughout the year. Amid our insecurities and fear, this classic can be a beautiful reminder to seek true peace and security in the one solid truth, Jesus was born to be our Savior and Light always. This is an exciting story! Keep tuning in!

Christmas peace to you always,
Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation