When I was growing up, I couldn’t wait for the holiday season when all the Peanuts specials would air. Most of the original Charlie Brown era happened between 1969 and 1980, so by the time I can remember in the mid-1980’s, the networks were only showing It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown around Halloween, A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, and A Charlie Brown Christmas. VHS tapes were just coming around and streaming services were decades away, so if I missed them when they aired, I would sulk and then wait another year for the next airing. 

One of the things I loved most was the music. A combination of catchy modern jazz and classic holiday hymns and folk songs, it never failed to captivate me and make me want to be part of the gang. The singing wasn’t good. But it was joyful and familiar and full of holiday spirit.

That kind of wide open, joyful singing is what I think about when I think of church music. Some of the logistics have evolved over the last several years - sometimes we have a hymnal in our hands, sometimes we’re looking at a screen. Sometimes we’re led by a piano and a soloist, or a youth ensemble, or a praise band. Whether we’re singing from the hymnal or a newer praise song, the idea that everyone can sing along is important to me. 

We all have a different level of skill, but that doesn’t mean you can't or shouldn't sing during worship. There is nothing like the feeling of being in the middle of 50 or 100 voices singing A Mighty Fortress is Our God or Blessed Be Your Name. 

The best thing is,  if you miss singing one Sunday,  you don't have to wait another year before you get to sing along again. In another week,  we'll sing another set of songs that you can sing along with,  too. If there is something we can do to make it easier for you,  let me know. I want that part of worship to be as participatory as possible. 

As we prepare for the new program year beginning with Rally Day on September 18, we're finding ways to bring back some of the ensembles we haven't been able to have the last couple years. Versions of choir, youth band, and children singing will all return. 

If you’d like to participate in an ensemble let me know. Play an instrument? We’ll find a way to include you in worship. I can’t wait to hear what kind of sound we can make this season.

Yours in music,

John Johns

Director of Music (This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.)

This photo my brother-in-law posted from the beginning of the Inca Trail resonated with me as I struggled with holding on to tangible objects that are hindering my path.

I have been feeling overwhelmed with stuff these days. Lowell’s 47 pairs of socks are nothing compared to my drawer (watch the children’s sermon this past week). For the past 6 months, we have been cleaning out my mom’s condo to get it ready for sale. That combined with my daughter moving home during a time of school transition and our own stuff of 32 years of marriage, are weighing heavily on me.

I feel like I have a healthy relationship with purchasing and collecting. We don’t value our possessions over relationships or experiences, but we live the typical, suburban, American life which includes so much stuff. There is stuff like the old coffee pot that we used as kids to play in the water at my grandma’s lake house that brings priceless memories? Then there are the boxes and boxes of old photos, yearbooks, and cards? My mom had 3 Christmas trees from when we downsized each year because it was too much to put up the big one when she wasn’t feeling well. However, we never let go of the bigger ones because we might want to put them up again in the future and trees are so expensive, we wouldn’t want to buy a big one again. They will fit in our garage…but do they really?

Throw in the guilt of adding to a landfill or trying to figure out if Goodwill or St. Vincent’s will even take an old metal filing cabinet or whether grandma’s china has any value? It is overwhelming.

There are wonderful moments of our lives that are intertwined with an object, a photo or a memento. However, there is a point when all the stuff pushes out the ability to live in the fullness of God’s plan for us. What if I just rest in the knowledge that my mom’s life, my life, are lives well lived? We don’t need to wrestle with losing a memory or making the “right” decision on the future of a possession because if we live with our heart and mind set on Jesus, all else falls in place.

Sharing with my children that their grandma was the welcoming force everywhere she went or that every batch of cookies she made was usually for someone else to brighten their day or contribute to a bake sale creates a world that follows the example of Jesus. It’s not whether we have that old coffee pot to remember her. They felt her love, they saw her living out her faith and could easily envision the stories told. Trusting that when we let go, our lives can be filled with a bigger purpose.

Are there things you can let go of to make room for God to work more fully in your life? Can you trust that empty space will be filled with different but better goodness?

God knows our needs, holds our loved ones, and our memories in the hands that will never let us go. It’s time for me to release the overwhelming responsibility of all the stuff. I need to move forward, trusting the decisions I am making are the best I can make at this moment in time.

“Take only memories, leave only footprints” seems like the path Jesus would be walking with me.

God’s peace always,

Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation

P.S. Shameless plug … Didn’t even think about it until after I wrote the blog, I promise! I know some people actually enjoy sifting through stuff and giving it new life and meaning. How about helping with the Lord of Life Rummage Sale in the fall? We need co-chairs! Talk about a bigger purpose. You would be investing in the faith and community of our youth. Let’s talk! The sale is tentatively set for Saturday, October 1. 

One of the best things about being a kid is making stuff up. Playing pretend and exploring the land of make-believe can provide hours of entertainment and stir creativity on play dates, road trips, and rainy days.

I can’t count the hours I spent building LEGO creations from all the leftover bricks, playing Starsky & Hutch in the backyard with friends, drawing fantastical scenes of outer space people and places, and constructing all kinds of forts with neighbors. Tree forts and couch cushion forts were almost an Olympic sport in our part of the neighborhood. Imagination dominated our lives!

So what happened? Why did our imaginations begin to evaporate when we hit adolescence? Why did we trade in our fictitious frenzy for a more “mature” life grounded in reality? We didn’t, really. Instead, we shifted how it operates in our lives.

We’re still pretending. We don’t call it make-believe, but we spend much of our adult life feigning to be someone or something that we’re not. We give the illusion that we have everything figured out and have the solutions to life’s greatest problems. We want to portray that our job, family, health, and relationships are all perfect. If you don’t believe it, take a look at how we curate what we share on our social media or choose to write about in the Christmas letter.

As people of Christian faith, we don’t have to pretend that we’re something we’re not. Jesus meets us where we are, loves us for all that we are and are not, and chooses to call us friend. Even more, he invites us to rekindle that child-like wonder and faith.

Jesus often showed a preference for hanging out with children and encouraged adults with sclerotic hearts to become more like children. He welcomed the children to the adult meetings, hoping to infuse a bit of awe and wonder into the conversation. Jesus celebrated when a boy was willing to share his sack lunch of fish and bread to help feed the crowd on the hillside. When asked about salvation, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” I wonder if part of his reasoning was to encourage practical, no-nonsense grown-ups to expand their ideas about life, faith, dependence, gratitude, and hope?

I remember a time when a friend accused me of playing with my make-believe friend named Jesus. It wasn’t when I was little, but when I was in college. They thought it was strange that I hadn’t jettisoned what they saw as futile, fairy tale faith in the God who chose to come and walk among us, speaking a word of forgiveness, lobbying for justice, and selflessly giving his life so that others might live. If God could do this through the person of Jesus, imagine what God can do through us?

Artist Makoto Fujimura in his book Art and Faith: A Theology of Making, argues, “To be human is to be creative…Cultivating our imagination is essential to fully realizing our potential as God’s creatures…It is impossible to have faith without imagination…Our ability to dream, to envision, the future in which justice reigns, is one of the great gifts of God to us.”

As you savor the final weeks of summer, take some time to dream and wonder. Walk, run, read, paddle, nap, daydream, or whatever it is that allows you to release the tension and stress of pragmatism and drift into the realm of imagination. This is not a disconnect from reality or a departure from your real life, but rather an essential component of your essence as both creature and creator. Imagine how God might be using your creativity and passions to rejuvenate you and plug into the world’s deepest need.

Wondering what God is up to next,

Pastor Lowell

I’ll admit, I often take the easy way out when I write one of these blog posts. Sure, I might tell a deeply personal story, or talk about a difficult recent event, but I tend to wrap it up in a neat little package that ends with “... Jesus loves us and we’re supposed to love each other” and sign off with “Yours in Christ.”

And Jesus definitely loves us, and we are definitely supposed to love each other. But digging into what it means to love each other can make people feel uncomfortable.

On Tuesday night, I went to see a Mavis Staples concert. I hear she was followed by Bonnie Raitt, but I didn’t stay for that part. I was there to hear the Chicago Blues and Gospel sound that she’s been famous for since she was a member of the Staple Singers at 11 years old. You might remember some of her oldies like “Let’s Do It Again” and “I’ll Take You There.”

Mavis is also known as an activist. Her father’s Chicago apartment was a regular host to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and he decided early on that “if [MLK] could preach it, they could sing it.” So freedom songs and protest music became part of their regular concert repertoire.

As I was sitting in a crowd that was split between people who were there to see Mavis Staples and Bonnie Raitt, I became acutely aware how uncomfortable some of the spectators might have been. Especially when lyrics started decrying the politics of gun violence and killing children. It isn’t quite as easy on the heart as “Let’s Give ‘em Something to Talk About.”

But in his time, Jesus wasn’t very palatable, either. Even his followers, who truly believed what he taught, tried to get him to be less abrasive among the politicians and law-driven clergy he was speaking out against. Flipping tables in the temple was the least of it - he was asking for crazy things like feeding and clothing the poor without asking how they got that way, tending to the sick with asking for repayment, treating women as equals, not abusing children … honestly, it seems like activism hasn’t changed much in 2,000 years. 

Yes, the bottom line was loving your neighbor, but loving everybody meant a political shift as much as a religious one. 

Just like some of the activists of our own time, Jesus was arrested and killed. For being a delinquent. A rabble-rouser. For stirring up trouble and making it difficult to maintain the status quo for the people who had it easy. 

Love isn’t always easy. But we are lucky enough to live in a free place where we should be able to rouse some rabble and ask for the things Jesus taught us to ask for. 

Yours in delinquency,

John Johns

I live in Kentucky. I attend university, I work at a large shopping mall, and I can shop at any of four large grocery store chains within 20 minutes of my luxury student apartment. For other Kentucky residents, they have one option for high school in their county, may have to shop at a Dollar General or small local business, and may have very limited options for work. On top of all that, they may live in a small mobile home or trailer in dire need of repair. One state, two drastically different lives.

Bell County and Jefferson County are on the opposite sides of the same state, but you would not recognize that if you didn’t know it. Jefferson county is marked by skyscrapers and large corporations, massive stadiums and theme parks, and cultural landmarks that draw in thousands of tourists. Bell County is quiet, isolated, and buried in Appalachia. Yet, despite their differences, they are grouped together in one state: they are neighbors.

This year, working in Bell County for ASP, I have an additional weight on my shoulders as I work on this house and in this community. This is a state that I live in. It is easier to see these people as my neighbors. It can be very difficult to define exactly who our neighbors are when we only see a limited number of people each day. However, coming back to the state that I have lived and worked in for about two years now gives me an easier way to identify with my neighbors in Bell County. Not only am I improving the lives of these caring and hospitable families that have welcomed me and many other strangers into their homes for the week, but I am improving the lives of my neighbors within the same state that I live in.

Showing kindness to our neighbors is one of the easiest ways we can share goodness with the world. It is often mentioned that kindness does not have to be a big, elaborate scheme and that any small act of kindness is important. This is true, but it does not mean we should shy away from bigger acts of kindness as well. ASP gives me an opportunity to reach out and try new, scary things while helping my neighbors. Before this week, I didn’t know how to use a circular saw, or what a band joist was. By Tuesday afternoon, I had cut a seemingly endless stream of 2x4 planks and had helped install over twenty feet of band joists. ASP has also given me a chance to make a difference at a point in my life when I have felt that showing kindness can be difficult at times. Even when I spend hours in the sun carrying wood or drilling in screws, I still feel great knowing that I am making a difference in the lives of my neighbors.

It can be hard to connect with our neighbors. We often come from vastly different backgrounds and cultures and making connections through that fog is a daunting task. But kindness is always a way we can help to establish that connection. Since moving to Louisville, I have fallen in love with Kentucky and Jefferson County. Since arriving here on Sunday, I have fallen in love with Bell County just as quickly. The families with which we are working come from a very different life than I do, but they are my neighbors just the same.

Charlie Kovacs
Lord of Life member, ASP volunteer 2022

I had forgotten the hours of fun my girls had with three green plastic bins until we were moving things in the garage. These bins were big enough to fit a 5- and 7-year-old comfortably as a pretend pool for hours of water fun. With the hose, some cups, and sometimes bubbles, they could enjoy a hot summer afternoon with such innocence, laughter, and imagination. Who needed a big fancy pool when you had green tubs?

So many memories of my childhood and our girls’ summers of playing outside, staying up late to catch fireflies or playing games in the street with the neighborhood kids or having “reading club” in the backyard with a blanket and snacks. No cares in the world and such an innocence in life.

I realize how fortunate we were that summers were carefree and filled with fun. As we got to know the Family Promise families that LOL was home to for a week, my prayer was that these precious children’s summer memories would be of blowing bubbles, sharing popsicles, the awesome playground (or park as they called it), and their dad throwing frisbee with them. Their parents were sheltering and loving them through these summer days even amid their own worries and overwhelming challenges.

It can be so easy to be mired down by the divisions in the world, of unrealized dreams, of financial or medical concerns, and the weight of everyday life. Maybe your summer memories were not as idyllic. Adult concerns or past experiences outweigh the faith and innocence of experiencing life as a child. As people of faith, we can learn something from them. Perhaps, as we pray, grow to trust in God and allow the Holy Spirit to work in our lives, life’s challenges will not seem as insurmountable. We can find faith and assurance in our heavenly Father through childlike faith and wonder. This trust frees us to love others and ourselves as Jesus loves and cares for us. 

What can you see this summer through the eyes of a child? What summer memory can you recreate, or can you create a new memory? Can we set aside moments to rest in innocence and delight in God’s creation and even share it with others? Maybe it can’t be a gorgeous, big pool but soaking your feet in a green bucket of hose water or enjoying a popsicle with someone that needs that moment as much as you do.

Praying with you that the child in our hearts finds the rest and wonder of summer days and God’s unending love and grace.

God’s peace always,

Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation