Christmas Joy

There is nothing quite like Christmas, is there? While the hype and the craziness that surround the season can overwhelm us, there is something about Christmas that draws us all in. We sing the songs and hear the stories as we've done for years and years. We trudge through the snow to spend time with family and friends.

Christmas. We gather together all over the world to celebrate the birth of Christ, the coming of a savior into a world that so desperately needs saving. We sing the hymns, old and new, that tell the story we know so well. Christmas.

There is something almost magic about Christmas. The festiveness, the gatherings, the food, the music, the laughter, the joy. It is truly a time to celebrate.

But at Christmastime, we remember as well that the story doesn't end in the manger. It begins in the manger. Jesus comes as a child at Christmas but the Nativity is only the beginning. Christmas is a time to celebrate what we know is coming. We've come through Advent, full of anticipation and waiting and now we've arrived at Christmas. The wait for the savior is over. But the wait for his return still continues. Christmas reminds us that Christ came into the world and lives among us, even as we live in the promise of his return one day.

My family lives in a parsonage that's on almost 60 acres of land out in the Iowa country. One of my favorite Christmas traditions, perhaps my favorite, is something simple that happens on our farm each Christmas eve. Growing up, my brother, dad and I would go out to the barn after Christmas dinner to bed down the animals and give them some extra food, all in preparation for what would happen later in the night.

The story is that on Christmas Eve, the animals in the barn can talk. They gather together to tell the story, The Story, of what happened on the first Christmas so long ago. The animals remember the part those first animals played in the Nativity and they tell the story to each other. As I've gotten older and the logical part of my brain has grown, I've learned a lot about the world and about how things work. This logical part of my brain tells me that such a thing is not possible and that this is just a story told to children. But another part of me wants to sneak down to the barn on Christmas Eve and put my ear up to the door and hear the soft voices of the goats, whispering to each other the story of the One who came to earth and slept in a manger so long ago.

Blessed Christmas.

Soli Deo Gloria!
Amy

Postville, Iowa

If you haven't heard about what's happening in Postville, IA take a few minutes and Google it. You'll have more than enough information. For now, however, here's story about the power of human kindess, even in the midst of impossible situations.

http://community.icontact.com/p/decorahevents/newsletters/oct15/posts/decorahevents-a-story


My sister is the acting local volunteer coordinator in Postville. As I like to say, she's saving Postville. And saving may be just what is needed.

Please pray for the people of Postville and all those who are doing everything humanly possible (and impossible) to help those in need. Soon I'll blog about the issue in general, but for now, let us be thankful for the kindness and generosity of people who care.

Soli Deo Gloria
Amy

Winter

It snowed a lot in the past day here in Iowa. My friends Cadence and Olam and I went Christmas shopping this afternoon. We got to witness firsthand the beauty of the snow. The snow fell so beautifully straight down and covered the ground, making everything shockingly white. I was reminded again and again of how amazing the earth around us is. The simplest things can remind us of this day after day- a beautiful sunrise, a baby animal being born, a snowfall. The most beautiful things in our lives can't be made up; these things can only be witnessed and enjoyed.

My friend Olam hails from a less snowy part of the country and it was fun to be with him in the midst of the snow and exchange knowing looks with Cadence when we replied to his snow-joyfulness with "You haven't seen REAL winter yet, boo."

Snow, however, can also remind us of how fragile we are. The snow and ice make driving and sometimes even walking a challenge. There is nothing more humbling than realizing that we have so little control over the winter weather.

There was a guy in my church, Henry, who always used to remind people of this fact. "You pick the day, not the weather," he'd say. How true. We can plan and plan, but sometimes to no avail. Sometimes all we can do is put aside our plans and pick up a sled.

Soli Deo Gloria.
Amy

A Confession of Confessions

Ok, the time has come for a true "Confession," I think. I survived another semester of seminary...no, that's not my confession. But the fact that I survived is a milestone of some sort. So, here's my post-semester confession.

One of my classes this fall was Ethics. I took it as a requirement. My friend Cadence was in the class with me and we sat by each other all semester. I think we provided some humor to the class since we sort of play off each other and just generally have a good time together. The class was taught by a faculty member from the Presbyterian seminary in town. Calvin, the professor, was absolutely amazing. My friend and I weren't sure what the class (or the teacher) would be like at first, but we quickly decided it was probably our favorite class all semester. We discussed ethical issues using the ELCA's social statements, draft statements and messages. The class divided up into groups and we each chose a statement (etc) to present. My group- Cadence and Gianna (another friend in the class) and I- presented last. I really wanted to talk about the ELCA's draft statement on human sexuality. While it wasn't on the original list that Calvin had us choose from, he was willing to let us do this one- perhaps because I was so excited and animated about it. I am so grateful that my friends were willing to go along with me on this. Our group was the last to present in the semester. The draft statement (http://www.elca.org/What-We-Believe/Social-Issues/Social-Statements-in-Process/JTF-Human-Sexuality.aspx) is long and intense so we decided to narrow it down to one issue-- the issue that seems to be the ELCA's "hot topic" issue. As Cadence so nicely put it: gayness.

Ok, time out. Now's the time for the confession. I am gay. I came out of the closet last spring (March 17, 2008). I am still working on defining who I am in light of this but I know this much for certain: I am gay and I'm ok with that. My family knows and are ok with it for the most part I think. My friends know (or are learning) and particularly my seminary friends and my college roommate have been amazing. Who knew how many gay jokes seminarians could make? Anyway, I am who I am and I know that God loves me the way I am. I know that may sound a bit shallow and cliche but that's the truth. Being gay is not all of who I am, but it is certainly a large part of who I am.

As can be imagined, this reality makes my call to be a pastor a bit more difficult. Because the ELCA is still in "conversation" over the issue, I am in a bit of a tough situation. I've run into a bit of difficulty already but I am still working at it...even if the process doesn't turn out to be as..."straight forward" as I originally thought. I love my church and I have no intention of leaving. Because I love my church, I am willing to fight and struggle along with the people of God that surround me and my fellow GLBTQ people called to serve the church. I am not out to be a crusader or a poster child, but I am out to be who I am and who God made me to be.

I pray that the church will find an answer and not practice exclusion, but I know that this will be a process and can't happen overnight. In light of this, I am willing to be more open and stand up and speak instead of just letting other people doing the hard work themselves.

Ah, that felt good. Confessing the truth has a bit of freedom, don't you think?

Soli Deo Gloria.

Amy

Playing in Holy Water

I was babysitting yesterday for a 4 year old and his baby sister. We were at a convent/convention center because his parents were there for a conference. We walked all around the building, checking things out. Being the curious 4 year old that he is, my little friend was drawn in a certain room by the sound of running water. We drove the stroller into the room and immediately my little friend, we'll say Ben, went to the front of the room to the source of the running water. It was an impressive source- a huge, stone baptismal font. The waist high creation was made of limestone, no doubt taken from the rock of the hills nearby. The water flowed from a shallow pool on the top down the sides of the rock into a stone-lined base at the bottom. The water flow was soft and light. In fact, Ben leaned against one of the ravines in the rock and got his shirt and pants all wet. I rolled up his sleeves and he immediately stuck-- no, splashed-- his hands in the pool on top. He then looked at me like perhaps he had done something wrong and said, "What if someone sees us playing here?" And I smiled and answered, "I don't think anyone will mind." We splashed a bit and played in the water. Ben traced the paths that the water took down the rock. I couldn't help but think about the symbolism of the moment. What better place to play? Ben obviously felt completely comfortable in the chapel room and at the font. I did too. As we played and flicked each other with water, one of the sisters came into the room on her way down the hallway. For a moment I thought she might tell us to stop, but instead her actions completely surprised me. She came over to the font, smiled at us and dipped her hand into the water. Then, she pulled her hand out and looked Ben right in the eye and flicked water at him before continuing on her way out of the room. When she got to the door, she turned back and waved at us and then blew Ben a kiss from the doorway.

I know that I'm reading a lot into this but I can't help it. It was absolutely...cute...and charming. But it was also a neat thing, theologically, to see this whole moment transpire. I mean, what better place to play? Safe in the waters of baptism. Secure in the knowledge that we are loved and noticed. Rejoicing in the fact that we are baptized and welcome in the body of Christ.

Safe in the waters of baptism. Martin Luther reminds us that when wash our faces, we should remember our baptisms. Keep the flowing waters of God's love close to your heart and mind and rest safely in the waters of baptism. Your baptism, God's promise revealed. Play safe in the waters of baptism, wherever they may flow.

Soli Deo Gloria,
Amy

Sometimes I wonder....

For some odd reason, I can't seem to get the concept of televangelism out of my head. Scary, I know. Trust me, I'm not a budding TV preacher or anything of the sort. But I can't help but wonder what makes people-- ok, let's be clear, mostly men-- get on national TV stations and y the things they say and do the things they do? I mean really. "If you call this toll-free number, someone will answer your call and say a prayer for you. And when you give us your address, we'll send you a free package of 'miracle manna,' made exactly as the Bible describes it." Really? I can get this free package of bread from you, just for calling and giving my address? This manna (or water, or cloth or [insert Biblical-sounding item here]) can cure my disease, pay my bills and mend my relationships? Wow. Sign me up. Apparently all I have to do is get the thing in the mail, follow the instructions and watch God's miracles start to take place in my life. If this is truly the answer and the cure for suffering, why doesn't everyone do it? How about we take a million of these little things and cover the ground of the Middle East? Then we'll just pray and peace will come to the region, right? How about we just lay a bunch of pieces of this miracle bread on the United States Constitution? Then all of the injustices and unfairness of our laws will end, right?
Somehow I don't think it can be that easy. If miracles were easy and could happen all the time, they wouldn't be miracles. A miracle is something that shakes us to our cores and most likely terrifies us. A miracle is nothing to peddle on late-night heal-a-thons.
One of my favorite books is Leif Enger's Peace Like a River. In his book about the coming of age of a Minnesota boy, Enger weaves a poetic but accurate vision of miracles. Take a look and you'll see what I mean.
Back to televangelism. In college, I wrote a column for the school newspaper for a year. One of the articles was about televangelism. I wrote that if Martin Luther were alive today, he would be a televangelist. I still hold to that idea a bit but I know now that if our favorite reformer were alive today, he wouldn't be peddling free Biblical bread or miracles on TV. He would, in fact, go off on those who did such things. Ah, Martin Luther. Aren't pieces of miracle manna or holy water a sort of personal indulgence? A ploy used by those in power to raise the (false) hopes of those who will so desperately cling to any chance they can get?
Beware, friends of easy miracles. While miracles do occur, they are often not in the form that we expect. We go through our lives looking for things that we could count as miracles. Normally, I don't like the be the one to quote Bible verses as a way to make a point, but this one stuck in my head.
"Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it." -Hebrews 13:2

Perhaps we miss some miracles because we are looking in the wrong place.

Soli Deo Gloria,
Amy

In the beginning...

I decided to start a blog to help chronicle my time at seminary and the random things that happen in my life. I'm not sure what all will be written here in the future, but I can promise that it will never be (too) dull. I also have a habit of making random lists of things (ok, sometimes as something to do during class...) so those might find their way onto this page too.

I think I'll post some of my sermons etc here when I feel like I have a good one. I'll also write about some experiences and my thoughts. One of my best friends talks about her blog often and I thought it sounded like a good idea. So, we'll see how this goes.

Soli Deo Gloria,
Amy