Electronic Luther

For my birthday, my wife surprised me with a Kindle. I haven’t had a chance to play with it too much (darn finals!) but I’ve spent the morning trying to find cheap theological texts online. The Amazon Kindle store has quite a few old translations of Luther for free. Even if you don’t have a Kindle, you can download the Kindle App for your PC (or Mac) and read it on your machine. If anyone has any suggestions of books I should get, please let me know.

Liturgy Retreat in Trappe

Cue trapped in Trappe jokes.

For my Introduction to Liturgy course, our final examine consisted of a retreat. On a Saturday, those who were able gathered at Augustus Lutheran Church in Trappe, PA. There, in the historic Lutheran church building built in 1743, we performed the three days of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Vigil. All three, in a row, and on one day.

Twilight

Okay, we didn’t do all there services exactly in a row. The class didn’t plow from one bulletin to the next. We had breaks. We ate lunch and dinner together. There were moments of downtime between the services. Dr. Lathrop wished for the entire day to be a retreat from the stress induced final moments of the spring semester. The idea was to do the three days on an Easter Saturday with every student having some part to play in the event.

We arrived at Augustus Lutheran Church a little after 11 o’clock. On the way through town, pass the odd UCC church sign, I kept making comments about Henry Melchior Muhlenberg and his being a patron of local fast food restaurants (specifically Dairy Queen). It only seemed right that since Muhlenberg’s house had a historical marker dedicated to it, his favorite ice cream dessert should too. The entire class gathered in one of the community halls attached to the newer church building. A lunch was prepared for a small army. I believe there is still salad from that day sitting in the communal fridge on the 3rd floor of LTSP’s dorm.

Prepping for Maundy Thursday
Prepping for Maundy Thursday

After feeding myself to the point of bursting, I wandered with several other students into the Old Church. Built in 1743 and with its only electricity being fed into it via huge extension chords, I watched as Dr. Lathrop, Dr. Krentz, and my classmates began to run through how the Maundy Thursday service would work. From the monster pulpit, the tiny box pews (that were too small for even me), and the bleacher balcony, it was a beautiful building to shoot.

Balcony

Prepping for Maundy Thursday

Casey and Dr. Lathrop

It also helped that there was a lovely graveyard outside.

Outside

The graveyard had it all – the graves of the first European settlers in Trappe, a gravestone from 1736, the tomb of 15 unknown Continental soldiers, and ridiculously gaudy tombstones. It was a dream. Peaceful, buggy, yet serene. It makes sense why graveyards were the first city parks.

The Maundy Thursday service went very well. We sung our hymns, had our feet washed, washed our neighbors feet, and celebrated the Eucharist. It didn’t dawn on me at the time but I actually had my feet washed by an actual diaconal candidate (that doesn’t happen every day). Dr. Lathrop preached. A good time was had by all.

With that service ended, we had a few moments before our next service. I once again headed into the graveyard where I visited the man himself, Henry Melchoir Muhlenberg.

Henry Melchior Muhlenberg
Gravestone in Latin? Wife barely a footnote? Ballsy.

Quite a bit of Muhlenberg’s family is buried in the church. His son the Major General is there as well as his daughter who married a future General. There is a smattering of American Revolutionary war accolades throughout the cemetery. I was bummed to see no mention of Henry’s favorite Dairy Queen.

With the graves visited, I then strolled deeper into the graveyard with my ELW. Then, while out of earshot, I began practicing Psalm 22. I am not a singer and singing in public makes me nervous. But there, amongst the graves, I belted it out. I will admit that, at some points, I was hoping that I was not accidentally chanting an incantation that would raise everyone from the dead. I’ve seen movies and TV shows that started that way. It would have made the retreat quite a different kind of event.

The Good Friday service began promptly at 3 pm. I took my seat in the very first box pew. The readings were read. I chanted and the assembly chanted responsively. A friend of mine presided. Dr. Lathrop preached. But rather than preach from the floor (like at the Maundy Thursday service), he wandered up to the pulpit; the pulpit marked restricted area. Dr. Lathrop’s view looked something like this:

Looking from the pulpit

As you can see, those individuals sitting in the very first pew, were going to develop neck strain if they tried to look up during the sermon. And we did. My neck hurts just thinking about it.

3 young men sung the passion. The cross was carried in and laid on the altar. The service ended with everyone leaving in silence. Everyone was very moved by it.

A storm moved into the area and rained while we were having dinner. Luckily, it blew out before the start of the Easter Vigil. I, again, overate at dinner and I had to be rolled down to where we all gathered to light a bonfire. Earlier in the day, a car accident right in front of the church had damaged a transformer and caused power outages in the neighborhood. Firemen and police officers were around all day. One wandered onto the church campus and one of our students asked if he was there because we were going to light a fire in the graveyard. This was the first he heard about it and he had a few questions. But everything was fine and we all gathered and waited for Dr. Lathrop, Dr. Krentz, Laura, and Jay to process from the church to where we had gathered.

Walking towards Easter Vigil Fire

With the fire lit, we moved into the boy scout room of the community center at the church. There, all 14 readings were done (and their responses). I never before had participated in an Easter Vigil where all the readings were done and I must say that I quite enjoyed it. The lectors were great and the prayers/song responses were perfect. They were not too short nor were they too long. They added distance between readings but were not boring. During some of the readings, laughter was shared. The group got into it. It probably helps that we’re all mostly pastors-to-be but I think we all had a good time. And, through it all, everything was in candle light. In the words of Dr. Lathrop, it was gorgeous.

With the readings done, we returned through the darkness to the old church building. Covering our candle sticks, we did our best to keep them lit during the thanksgiving for baptism. In the church, the sermon was preached and eucharist was shared. With that, the evening was done and we all piled into our respective vehicles and returned to where we had come.

Chestnut Hill Baptist Church

Chestnut Hill Baptist Church

My wife’s grandfather’s sister was married here in 1957. She married the pastor’s brother who was attending Eastern Baptist Seminary at the time.

Throw a rock and you’ll hit a clergy person, or a saint, in my created family it seems. I have yet to discover any recent clergy person’s in my family of origin but I finally learned the name of the saint in my bloodline. His name is Saint Camillus de Lellis and he is one of the patron saints to nurses. The most common response I hear when I share this guy with folks is that they notice that he was 6’6″. They then notice me. They ask: “What happened?”

Sunday School Stratification: The Santa Question

Last Sunday was a wild day at my field education site. The sexton, two pastors, the CYF director, all three music directors, and a big chunk of the leaders of the church were gone (one of the musical directors was getting married!). The one remaining pastor, her partner, and I were left in charge. Things went well, I think. I only forgot to uncover the baptismal font (and prepare water for it) during the 9 am service (which I also was an assistant minister for) and I was able to get help to cover for me during Sunday school. And my helping clean up broken glass during the 11 am service was a hit – they really liked when I genuflected before the altar while holding a broom. But between the 9 am and 11 am service is when Sunday school is scheduled. After I readied the altar for the next service, I wandered into the Sunday School classroom with a half hour of time left. I was worried that the kids were driving the new teacher up the wall. Luckily, that wasn’t happening. I was relieved.

The kids (between the ages of 4 and 9) were talking about the story of Thomas. Being the fantastic Lutheran Christians that they are, when the kids were asked if they had ever NOT believed in God, they all said “no.” But, organically and without and prompting from us, the conversation quickly turned into whether they believed in fairy tales and myths. One young lady brought up the Loch Ness monster which immediately led to one of the older kids using the dreaded S word.

She started talking about Santa.

She said she never believed in Santa Claus, though some of her kids thought so. And when she talked about watching her mom wrap presents, she was immediately interrupted by one of the younger kids who shouted, loudly, “HOW ELSE DO THE PRESENTS GET INTO THE HOUSE?” The floodgates opened. The older kids began talking about parents wrapping presents, the younger kids countered with presents appearing in the middle of night because the parents were asleep. And all I could think was “no way – they’re not finding this out at church today.” I quickly blurted out a question to all the kids. They stopped talking, looked at me, and answered me. I asked them if they had friends who told them that God wasn’t real. Being in a city filled with opinionated adults and children sometimes helps. The conversation quickly shift back to the story of Thomas. I have no idea if I saved the day (it’s possible that the arts and crafts that followed also helped) but I haven’t stopped thinking about that moment since.

Even with really young kids, there really is a stratification built on the topic of Santa. I’ve been aware of the social, racial, language, and just plain age differences between the kids but I never, for a moment, thought about Santa. But the fact that Santa came up during the chat about Thomas makes perfect sense. Besides Christmas, there is no other time when Santa would come up.

I’m not sure how other churches, pastors, or vicars would have responded when this happened. I guess, since Santa has never been a problem for me, I will always side on “wait till they’re older” when it comes to the Santa Question. I don’t recall when I ever discovered that [SPOILER ALERT] Santa wasn’t real but I am sure I heard it from my friends. And maybe hearing it at Sunday School would be the best and safest place for that to happen. But I don’t think that’s the “counter-cultural” aspect of the church that needs raising up in Sunday School. Telling kids to love, to believe, and that God loves them – even if they don’t understand what that means – I think helps. I know I could have used that growing up. But Santa? I’ll leave that to the kids on the playground. I have enough of a hard time dealing with a disciple who denied Jesus, a guy who betrayed him, a guy who had to stick his finger in Jesus’s side, and a church history of deprecating women – and trying to explain all of that to kids who know more than most people give them credit for – than having to talk about Santa. And I think answering the Santa question might even be too easy for the church. It’s easy to try and destroy Santa while ignoring even more important questions later. It allows the church to focus on “myths” while propagating myths about sex, about the role of women, about minorities, and about reality. Those things matter more than Santa.

Happy Birthday to Me

Yesterday was my birthday. I had a fairly great day (all things considered). I would like to share some highlights with you, if you don’t mind.


This isn’t me. It’s a male model.

In my Lutheran Confessions class, I sit in the very front row, right next to Dr. Wengert. Like usual, I was being used as an example in the class (I don’t remember if he was drowning me with wine, over feeding me with bread, or listening to see if I’m alive, or whatnot). But then Dr. Wengert noticed my shirt. He took a moment to comprehend it, thought it was “something” and when informed it was my birthday (it was shouted out from the back of the room), Dr. Wengert sung me a lovely happy birthday song that he learned at camp. Only one other seminarian knew it. It involved death, dying, and hope that this might be my last year alive. So, for all future seminarians, if you would like to throw Dr. Wengert, buy your t-shirts from threadless; cookie loves milk is a good one.

During lunch at the refectory, the entire lunch crowd sung happy birthday. The table of all male faculty and staff didn’t seem very into it at first. However, by the end of the song, they were lovingly harmonized with the entire room. Well done sirs, well done.

After lunch, and before my liturgy small section, Dan let me do a shot of lemoncello that he had made. Class went very well after that.

Casey said, throughout the day, that it was my birthday.

Many staff members and students thought I was five years younger than I truly am. They said I aged well. They do not realize that I have a beauty routine to keep looking young – and my hip and happening sense of style probably also threw them.

I really loved eating my birthday chorizo burrito. It made everyone else at dinner jealous.

And my favorite bit was opening my birthday present while skyping with K, and hearing the dog barking in the background.

K also sent me almost two dozen e-cards throughout the day; all were from some e cards. This was one of my favorites:

What every Seminarian is dying to know: who wore what at the Royal Wedding

Did you sleep through today’s royal wedding? I did. I somehow even slept through my phone’s constant ringing as K sent me live text messages about the event (she was watching it in another state). I was happy to get some sleep but as I stumbled to my computer and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I realized there were three things I missed. One: what was Kate wearing? Two: what was the Archbishop wearing? Three: what was the sermon like? Question one was, by far, the easiest to answer. But for us seminarianzillas, what the bride wore isn’t the be-all of the event. There are more important fish (and chips) to fry.

First, Kate Middleton wore an ivory and lace gown designed by Sarah Burton at Alexander McQueen. I liked it quite a bit but she’s a bit behind the times – my bride beat her to the punch by a year.

Second, Archbishop Rowan wore a Pugin Style Cope made by Watts and Co. of London. My birthday is coming up if anyone wants to get me anything (hint hint).

Finally, the Archbishop’s sermon is on youtube. For those of you who prefer your sermons in textual form, below is a transcript copied from the Diocese of London’s website.

“Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire.”

So said St Catherine of Siena whose festival day this is. Marriage is intended to be a way in which man and woman help each other to become what God meant each one to be, their deepest and truest selves.

Many people are fearful for the future of today’s world but the message of the celebrations in this country and far beyond its shores is the right one ‚Äì this is a joyful day! It is good that people in every continent are able to share in these celebrations because this is, as every wedding day should be, a day of hope.

In a sense every wedding is a royal wedding with the bride and groom as king and queen of creation, making a new life together so that life can flow through them into the future.

William and Catherine, you have chosen to be married in the sight of a generous God who so loved the world that he gave himself to us in the person of Jesus Christ.

In the Spirit of this generous God, husband and wife are to give themselves to each other.

The spiritual life grows as love finds its centre beyond ourselves. Faithful and committed relationships offer a door into the mystery of spiritual life in which we discover this: the more we give of self, the richer we become in soul; the more we go beyond ourselves in love, the more we become our true selves and our spiritual beauty is more fully revealed. In marriage we are seeking to bring one another into fuller life.

It is of course very hard to wean ourselves away from self-centredness. People can dream of such a thing but that hope should not be fulfilled without a solemn decision that, whatever the difficulties, we are committed to the way of generous love.

You have both made your decision today ‚Äì “I will” ‚Äì and by making this new relationship, you have aligned yourselves with what we believe is the way in which life is spiritually evolving, and which will lead to a creative future for the human race.

We stand looking forward to a century which is full of promise and full of peril. Human beings are confronting the question of how to use wisely the power that has been given to us through the discoveries of the last century. We shall not be converted to the promise of the future by more knowledge, but rather by an increase of loving wisdom and reverence, for life, for the earth and for one another.

Marriage should transform, as husband and wife make one another their work of art. It is possible to transform so long as we do not harbour ambitions to reform our partner. There must be no coercion if the Spirit is to flow; each must give the other space and freedom. Chaucer, the London poet, sums it up in a pithy phrase:

“Whan maistrie [mastery] comth, the God of Love anon, Beteth his wynges, and farewell, he is gon.”

As the reality of God has faded from so many lives in the West, there has been a corresponding inflation of expectations that personal relations alone will supply meaning and happiness in life. This is to load our partner with too great a burden. We are all incomplete: we all need the love which is secure, rather than oppressive. We need mutual forgiveness in order to thrive.

As we move towards our partner in love, following the example of Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit is quickened within us and can increasingly fill our lives with light. This leads on to a family life which offers the best conditions in which the next generation can receive and exchange those gifts which can overcome fear and division and incubate the coming world of the Spirit, whose fruits are love and joy and peace.

I pray that all of us present and the many millions watching this ceremony and sharing in your joy today will do everything in their power to support and uphold you in your new life. I pray that God will bless you in the way of life you have chosen. That way which is expressed in the prayer that you have composed together in preparation for this day:

God our Father, we thank you for our families; for the love that we share and for the joy of our marriage. In the busyness of each day keep our eyes fixed on what is real and important in life and help us to be generous with our time and love and energy. Strengthened by our union help us to serve and comfort those who suffer. We ask this in the Spirit of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Rowan Williams: a letter to a six-year-old

When a six year girl wrote a letter asking who invented God (it seems it was a class assignment), her father followed up by sending the letter to a variety of religious institutions in the United Kingdom. The Archbishop of Canterbury wrote the following response:

Dear Lulu,
Your dad has sent on your letter and asked if I have any answers. It’s a difficult one! But I think God might reply a bit like this ‚Äì
‚ÄòDear Lulu ‚Äì Nobody invented me ‚Äì but lots of people discovered me and were quite surprised. They discovered me when they looked round at the world and thought it was really beautiful or really mysterious and wondered where it came from. They discovered me when they were very very quiet on their own and felt a sort of peace and love they hadn’t expected.
Then they invented ideas about me ‚Äì some of them sensible and some of them not very sensible. From time to time I sent them some hints ‚Äì specially in the life of Jesus ‚Äì to help them get closer to what I’m really like.
But there was nothing and nobody around before me to invent me. Rather like somebody who writes a story in a book, I started making up the story of the world and eventually invented human beings like you who could ask me awkward questions!’
And then he’d send you lots of love and sign off.
I know he doesn’t usually write letters, so I have to do the best I can on his behalf. Lots of love from me too.
+Archbishop Rowan

I don’t think it’s half bad though I’m not sure if at six, I would have understood what he wrote. Or maybe the lack of dinosaur references would have bored me. Either way, I think it’s a good letter for the audience Archbishop Rowan was writing for – moms and dads.