A Pastoral Letter to Nebraska Governor Jim Pillen

June 2, 2026 

 

Governor Jim Pillen 

1445 K Street 

Lincoln, NE 68508 

 Governor Pillen, 

Last week, you signed an executive order intended to create a system which will compile complaints and incidents of antisemitism in Nebraska public schools under the Department of Education. You also committed the Department of Education to providing materials on the Holocaust, and you said that state staff will receive anti-harassment and anti-discrimination training. You noted the rise in anti-semitism across the nation and within our state, a rise which concerns me as well. Working to fight religious persecution and reduce intolerance in its many forms is a laudable goal. As a Christian committed to justice and peace for all of God’s beloved children, I share that goal with you. 

However, Governor, your own words during the signing of that executive order showed that you have much to learn about hatred, history, and the people of Palestine, who suffer unjust persecution and violence of their own which also must be brought to an end. You said: “In Nebraska, we do not tolerate hate in any form.” Yet minutes later, you said, “those people [Palestinians] are born to kill Jews and Christians.” Governor, I cannot call those words anything but hatred for the people of Palestine, a dehumanizing dismissal of an entire people based in ignorance and fear. You said, “The only way hatred can thrive is if history is forgotten.” Yet minutes later, you forgot the history of illegal land seizures in the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. You forgot the families who are still refugees within Palestine generations after the creation of the state of Israel. You forgot the estimated 75,000 Palestinians who have been killed by Israeli violence since the horrors of October 7, 2023, a slow genocide that continues today under a ‘cease fire’ in which Palestinian civilians continue to die. 

Governor, you mentioned traveling to Israel, meeting with Prime Minister Netanyahu, and visiting an Israeli village in which 400 people had been slaughtered. I believe you when you describe the horror experienced by that village. The attacks of October 7th were an atrocity, and the people who carried them out should be brought to justice. But your comments last week make it clear that you have not heard from the people of the Gaza Strip or the West Bank, who suffer a no less atrocious violation of their human rights. Allow me to tell you some of their story. 

In January, I traveled to the West Bank as part of a delegation from the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) to celebrate the consecration of the new presiding bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Jordan and the Holy Land. I was a guest of this small but active Palestinian church for nearly two weeks. I was at the Jaffa Gate preparing for a celebratory procession to the Lutheran Church of the Resurrection just down the street from the Church of the Holy Sepulcher when we received word that the bishop’s family had been detained, his mother threatened at gunpoint by Israeli soldiers even though all the necessary paperwork for entry into the Old City had been completed weeks in advance. I met with a farming family who has spent over $350,000 in legal fees over the last 40 years, fighting an unjust Israeli court system simply to continue farming land which has been legally owned and occupied by their family for generations. I walked through the Aida refugee settlement, where snipers have killed children and civilians without cause and without consequences. I have seen the hills where Israeli settlements are started without legal justification and Palestinians have been forced to relocate yet again without fair compensation. I have met the staff of Augusta Victoria Hospital, a Lutheran World Federation facility which treats Palestinian refugees when no one else will do so, and I have listened to them describe their attempts to provide pediatric cancer treatment within the Gaza Strip only to be denied by the Israeli military for security reasons. Palestinian children are dying of cancer when life-giving care is within reach - and it is not the hatred of Palestinians that prevents that care from reaching those in need. 

Do you know what I never once heard, Governor? I never heard any Palestinian wish for harm to come to their persecutors. Not once. I heard anger at the perpetuation of injustice against the Palestinian people. I heard deep grief at the violence that has killed so many people on both sides of this seemingly unending conflict. I heard fierce pride in being Palestinian, and a steadfast determination to continue to work for justice and peace in the Holy Land. But not once did I hear anyone say, “That Netanyahu, he wants to kill every Palestinian person on the planet.” Not once did I hear any of our hosts say, “those Israelis are born to kill Palestinians.” Not. Once. 

In no way do I mean to excuse or deny the actual violence that has been carried out by Palestinians and Israelis. Atrocities have been committed by both parties, and any hope for a peaceful resolution to the current conflict will require those responsible to bear the consequences of their actions. Continued overgeneralization of this complex conflict, however, will serve only to proliferate an unjust and biased narrative and prolong the suffering of millions as a consequence. 

Governor, when you speak, your words reflect on the Nebraskans you serve. Your dismissive and dehumanizing words about the people of Palestine cast a pall of intolerance and ignorance on all of us. You supported an ill-informed and overly simplistic view of the conflict in the Holy Land. It would have been far better had you said nothing at all. We deserve better than this from you. The people of Palestine deserve an apology, as do your fellow Nebraskans. 

Yours in Christ, 

The Rev. Scott Alan Johnson, Bishop 

Nebraska Synod - Evangelical Lutheran Church in America

https://nebraskapublicmedia.org/en/news/news-articles/pillen-signs-executive-order-requiring-reporting-for-antisemitism-across-nebraska/ 

December 2025 Reflection from the Bishop - "Them"

My days pass away like a shadow, and I wither like the grass.

But you, O Lord, endure forever, and your name from age to age.

You will arise and have compassion on Zion, for it is time to have mercy upon Jerusalem; 

indeed, the appointed time has come.

For your servants love the city’s very rubble, and are moved to pity even for its dust.

You will look with favor on the prayer of the homeless; you will not despise their plea.

Let this be written for a future generation, so that a people yet unborn may praise the Lord.

—Psalm 102.11-14, 17-18 (Evangelical Lutheran Worship)—

There’s a truth known by those of us who’ve grown up in the age of the internet: “Don’t read the comments.” The many benefits provided to us by the heightened connectivity of modern living come with the same problems shared by every age humanity has ever known: what exists can be used for sinful purposes, and likely will be as quickly as we can imagine. 

2021 Books: Cross Sections by Matt Schur

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Cross Sections is a thought-provoking, passionate collection of poetry aimed squarely at American Protestant Christianity in the early 21st century. This century has been a target-rich environment for critics of the American church, but what makes this volume particularly poignant is that the author offers his critique from within the institution itself, with an eye toward redemption and healing rather than destruction.

Writing in the vein of authors like Anne Lamott, Martin Bell, and Annie Dillard, these poems are filled with humor, rage, anguish, regret, hope, dismay, reflection, and a thematic underpinning that whatever this age is, it is not the beacon on the hill that large parts of the American Christian community believe it is, nor has it ever been. These poems ask big questions, take big swings, and sometimes make for incredibly uncomfortable reading - the kind of reading that shows you the cracks in the foundations of your thinking and makes you consider whether you've assumed too many things were true that just don't have to be, and maybe shouldn't.

If you're uncomfortable with the way things are, Cross Sections might be a collection of poetry that shows you you're not alone, and gives you hope that the moral arc of the universe is still bending toward justice. If you're comfortable with the way things are, this collection might move you into that uncomfortable place, and then show you you're not alone and give you hope as well. Highly recommended for Christian and non-Christian readers alike.

DISCLAIMER: Matt Schur and I have been good friends for almost 30 years, and I was an advance reader who offered some editorial suggestions for Cross Sections prior to publication. That having been said, I wouldn't post a review if it wasn't genuine, not even for a friend, and I did not request or receive any compensation for this review.

View all my reviews

Living with Grace in Anxious Times

While scrolling through social media recently, I saw a colleague I really respect get blasted by someone in their community. Publicly. That's just one example of some alarming abuse that's been happening lately. Here are some others:

• A pastor receives the agenda for an upcoming Council meeting and "Accomodating Pastor's children in worship" is an agenda item. 
• Online video worship services being critiqued for not being professional enough.
• Pastors observing recommended social distancing & strict visitation policies at local hospitals being criticized for not visiting members in person in the midst of a pandemic.
• Furloughed ministers being asked to continue providing pastoral care for the communities which are no longer paying for that care. 

These are times of high anxiety, fear, and grief. Anxious, scared, and grieving people are rarely capable of exhibiting their best behavior. Even when accounting for the current environment, however, it's disturbing to hear these stories of abuse from colleagues I know are doing everything they can to provide pastoral care to the communities to which God has called them.

In this time of uncertainty, change, and fear, we can present a counter-narrative of faith, endurance, and love. In fact, we already are. The situations I described above are all true, but they are the unfortunate exceptions. I've seen congregations shift to video worship services and graciously laugh about our lack of sophistication & polish. Several congregations have scheduled parades of members, driving past the houses where their ministers live and honking, waving, singing, doing something fun to tell their pastors and deacons they are loved and appreciated. Phone trees have been set up so that every member of a congregation gets a call from a fellow member at least once a week. How many of us have hosted a Zoom Bible Study or caught up with friends at a distance?

Learning one new skill requires a period of trial and error, of failing a little bit less each time until we build up the competency desired. Most of us will never be Tour de France-level bicyclists, but almost all of us learned to ride a bike at some point in our childhood, right? We learned how to ride by falling down until we didn't, until that crazy balance clicked in our minds and bodies. We developed that competency over time, usually in private, and eventually we were able to not even think about how to ride a bike - we just hopped on the seat and took off.

This global pandemic has stripped away most of our former competencies and left us all juggling job and family requirements that were unthinkable less than six months ago. In a sense, we've all been told we can no longer walk, or even ride a bike: everything is on a unicycle now, everyone has to do it, and it all has to be done where everyone can see. We're building new competencies in every aspect of our life and work, all at once. We are falling down - regularly, often, and publicly. It's a painful time to be a person.

This is a time for grace if ever the was one. This should be our primary language in the church, but we've adapted so well to the cultural language of performance and production that grace is an unfamiliar dialect - it sounds familiar, but it'll take some time to be fluent in it again. This is a time for grace with ourselves. This is a time for grace with the limitations imposed on us by this pandemic we cannot control. This is a time for grace with our families and housemates who grow every more wearying and annoying with each passing interminable day of social distancing. This is a time for grace with co-workers who still don't know how to mute video conference calls or don't have a private spot where kids or spouses won't pop into the background. This is a time for grace with Council members who are insensitive or even absent because they're worried about losing their jobs. This is a time for grace with all of this and more. 

We once believed grace was easy, right? Here in the American midwest we are particularly good at the sort of grace that left room for grudges while presenting an outwardly peaceful countenance - the sort of thing Dietrich Bonhoeffer called 'cheap grace.' Now we're discovering how difficult the actual practice of grace can be, and also how essential it will be moving forward in a world which will long remember how we responded in this hour of pandemic. Faith, endurance, and love - this is how we live with grace in anxious times. May God's Holy Spirit fill you with this grace, and may it flow through you into the world around you, now and always.

Book Review: Dear Church by Lenny Duncan

"Christianity at its core is subversive. But radical evil wants complacency, not subversion...Radical evil wants walls up around our hearts, around our congregation's life, and around this country. Division is how evil operates. We have all become intractable... 

To walk away from a theological commitment to the least of these is to leave Christ on the cross and ignore what happens three days later. To pretend that this isn't our time to stand up and speak a good word over this world is gross misconduct. If I don't accept this call now, I should be defrocked. If the church doesn't accept this call now, it deserves to die."

Dear Unsigned Letter Writer,

"Children reflect family values very well. Of more than 127 letters (note: 5 from the local newspaper were copied on the reverse side) I found only 8 that did not have great lists of wants; not one word for other needs and desires. Where are family values? One child only wanted to see Daddy once in a while - how very sad. What can we expect from tomorrow's citizens and leaders? What values & love?? We are failing our children every day."

Exposing Dan Skogen

Last week I was made aware of a minor social media kerfuffle between my colleague Clint Schnekloth and Dan Skogen, the man behind the "Exposing the ELCA" blog and Twitter feed. Like Clint, I've known about Dan for quite some time, particularly because he lives in the part of Iowa we call home and has been trolling synodical staff and pastors in our neck of the woods as long as I've been here. Clint's blog does an excellent job of laying out the various options of dealing with Internet trolls, so I'll invite you to take a look if you want to see the entire backstory.

Lutheran Confessions: Exposing "Exposing the ELCA": Meet Dan Skogen. He's the voice and face behind a blog titled "Exposing the ELCA." Well, he does more than blog. He tweets, tr...

Like Clint, I'd been doing my best to mostly ignore Dan for at least six years. Usually that's the best response to trolls and others working out their pathologies through the means of social media. In fact, just this week I recommended that fellow Iowans ignore the ridiculous "halftime show" the Stanford Band performed at the Rose Bowl. It was so obnoxious and insulting that anyone with an ounce of decency wouldn't believe anything about it for a second. In the same vein, the posts at ExposingtheELCA.com are so thinly connected to reality that anyone with the ability to critically engage what he says about the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America can see his agenda for what it is - and adjust their expectations for truth and decency accordingly.

The Most Thankless Job in the ELCA

"I was stunned to see the cartoon (December, page 45) of Mary and Joseph at the inn with a note on the door reading 'Closed forXmas.'  I would never have expected a Christian publication to "X" out Christ in Christmas.  Shame on you."  Kathleen Mayberry, Austin, TX.

Let Us Not Live In Fear

A few weeks ago, just after the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America's 2013 Churchwide Assembly concluded its business, a colleague posted a link and I followed it.  It was about the recent election of a gay bishop and his taking part in a worship service with other pro-GLBT folks in our denomination.  Specifically, it was a liturgical critique; ironic, since most of the GLBT clergy I know are also liturgy geeks, but that's an unhelpful over-generalization and I digress.

Should've Known Better

Someone posted a link on the ELCA Clergy Facebook page earlier this week.  I followed the link.  Read the article.  Read the comments.  Then I posted a comment of my own.  Then this happened:

Things We Should Let Go

Legend has it that when he was asked to preach in Chapel at Luther Seminary years and years ago, Prof. Gerhard Forde walked to the podium with a thick file folder, dropped it loudly on the surface and told his hearers, "These are all the letters I've received as a pastor and teacher over the years.  I just want you to know what being faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ might get you."  

A Letter to the Editor of Metro Lutheran

To the Editor:

I was so very disappointed to see information regarding faculty eliminations and retirements attributed to people speaking on the condition of anonymity in your recent article, "Layoffs, retirement of staff, faculty reduce Luther Sem’s debt."  I realize Metro Lutheran is in the news business and that this has been a very important story for the Lutheran community within the Twin Cities.  However, given the openness with which Luther Seminary has approached the situation since it has come to light, the seminary administration, faculty and staff deserved the opportunity to manage the release of information regarding staff and faculty eliminations as they felt most appropriate for those affected and their family and friends.  It appears that your use of anonymous sources forced the seminary to release that information earlier than they had intended, and your irresponsible and uncharitable reporting may have exacerbated the already painful losses the seminary community is undergoing.  

On your website, you claim that "Metro Lutheran is supportive of Lutheran church bodies and the institutions and agencies through which they carry on their work."  These are your brothers and sisters in Christ, some of whom have been serving Luther Seminary for more than thirty years.  They deserved better support than to be outed by a source who would not reveal their name.  

Yours in Christ,

Pastor Scott Alan Johnson (M.Div Luther Seminary, 2003)
St. Petri Evangelical Lutheran Church
Story City, IA

So... Um... yeah...

Been a while.  I know.

Wednesday Night Reflection - The Allergic Body of Christ

¹²Let no one despise your youth, but set the believers an example in speech and conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. ¹³Until I arrive, give attention to the public reading of scripture, to exhorting, to teaching. ¹⁴Do not neglect the gift that is in you, which was given to you through prophecy with the laying on of hands by the council of elders. ¹⁵Put these things into practice, devote yourself to them, so that all may see your progress. ¹⁶Pay close attention to yourself and to your teaching; continue in these things, for in doing this you will save both yourself and your hearers.  1^st Timothy 4.12-16

My campus pastor died six years ago this week.  When we went down to Lincoln for the funeral, I had what I thought at the time was the world’s WORST cold:  completely stuffed up nose, scratchy throat, watery eyes, lost my voice the week before and the occasional sinus headache.  It was at its worst the night of the visitation at the funeral home, so in I walked looking like I’d been crying non-stop for like a week, blowing my nose every 30 seconds or so and actually spending a few minutes talking with one of Larry’s daughters with a shred of Kleenex stuck to my moustache until my wife came by and whispered the news into my ear.  I mean, not that I was embarrassed to cry at the funeral, but you’d rather people knew the whole truth at times like that, right?

I Honestly Don't Know If I Can Do This

So here's a visual representation of the last twenty-four hours:

New Year, New Start

Photo by Amanda Woodward.  Used by permission.

Today is the first day of the new year.  Happy New Year!

Okay, yeah, it's the first day of the new liturgical year.  The first Sunday of Advent.  Year A, for those of you keeping score.  Gospel of Matthew. 

Liturgical geekery aside, I'm ready for a new start.  It was approximately a year ago that the Unbloggableness got started, and even now, several months after the last bit of official handling that mess required, the healing process is continuing in fits and starts - sometimes it's weeks without considering it, and sometimes something trips your memory and you're furious all over again.  It's well past time to be done with this, and well past time to be doing something instead of dealing with something.  So, a new year, a new start.

The U.B. isn't the only thing I'm anxious to put behind me.  I've gained another fifteen pounds this year through lousy diet and sloth.  I've spent far too much time messing around on message boards and not nearly enough time reading books, watching good TV and good movies.  I've put off house projects and dithered on things that could have been handled much more quickly if I'd put my mind to it.  In general, it feels like I've been sleep-walking for about a year now, and I'm ready to be awakened. 

Right now I'm sitting next to the fire at the Lutheran Center in Ames.  Six students are here with me, doing homework, the Sunday crossword, and just hanging out.  These incredible people have deserved so much better from me this year:  better sermons, better attention, better leadership.  This Advent I want to start over with all of them.  Thanks be to God, one can do just that.  Maybe I can't undo the sloth of the past 12 months, but I can sure as hell spend the next 12 making up for it.  So:  commence.

Grace & peace,
Scott

Blargh.

Yeah, I'm home sick today.  Woot!

I could probably be working by now, but I'm a firm believer in staying home when you're not feeling well, so here we are.  Besides, with my MacBook and cell phone I'm still able to accomplish quite a bit on a "sick day," to the point that I'm not actually taking the whole day off today anyway. 

One of the things I've been doing is catching up on blogger friends and actually reading stuff rather than skimming it per usual.  Every once in a while you follow the rabbit down the hole into a world you never knew existed, and I got a look at one such hole today - unfortunately, this one wasn't a particularly good one to follow. 

I stumbled on a website which seems completely dedicated to taking down the ELCA, the denomination in which I currently serve as pastor.  Whoever is running this thing is a disgruntled former ELCA member who has spent far too much time going over ELCA documents and websites with a fine-toothed comb, intent on finding every questionable phrase or sentence that could be exploited for his/her disingenuous, unfair and ultimately toxic agenda.  No, I'm not linking to it, nor will I give any more hints as to how to find it.  The last thing I want to do is increase the traffic over there.  Let's just say that after a few minutes reading thosee suspicious, conspiracy-theory mis-interpretations, I felt like I needed a shower (though, I admit, it might have also been because I've spent most of the day in this recliner in the basement).  

No one is surprised to note that a year after the ELCA's decision to embrace the ministry of same-gender persons in monogamous relationships and allow churches to bless same-gender unions, the fallout is still, well, falling.  Churches are leaving the ELCA:  this is a cause for sorrow even when that departure might be the healthiest way forward.  No one wants to leave the denomination with which they have been connected for so long.  But as an internet friend said the other day, at some point you get to the point where you think, "How can I miss you if you won't go away?" 

There's a fine line between honest disagreement and spreading poison.  I walked it here while the UB was going on, and some accused me of crossing it.  That's part of the reason I haven't been blogging much lately: I'm worried about crossing that line.  When Susan Hogan was running Pretty Good Lutherans, I thought she provided a great space for people of diverging opinions to talk about what was happening in the ELCA.  I wish she were still doing it, because efforts like that stand as a counter to the site I visited today, where the primary hermeneutic lens is one of suspicion and the default setting is somewhere between soapbox and BOMBAST.  There's a need for genuine criticism and loyal dissension in every denomination, especially in these days when staff layoffs are camouflaged as new structures designed to increase flexibility.  I just wish this small portion folks who disagreed with the ELCA's decisions in 2009 had chosen healthier means of expressing that disagreement.  I think I'd have been that much closer to feeling better if they had.

Wishing for Perfection

Before moving to Ames in 2008, we lived in Barrett, MN, a small town surrounding a lake much like the one in this picture. In fact, I took several sunrise photos that looked quite a bit like this in the four years I served Peace Lutheran Church in Barrett. Our house was just across the road from the lake, and when the conditions were right, you could get the most beautiful scenes when the sun came up across the lake.

I had a somewhat disheartening meeting today, one that reminded me that no matter how much we might wish for it, no Christian community is ever perfect. As I walked, sweating, over to the bus stop for my ride home, I thought of how nice it was last week when it was so cool, and how few days there have been this summer that weren't either rainy, steamy or (more often) both. Imperfect weather today, to do with an imperfect church (with an imperfect pastor, I might add).

Not every sunrise in Minnesota looked like this one. Most were ordinary, unremarkable, and passed without notice. Some were as beautiful as this one, some were even more spectacular. Some were, frankly, ugly - especially in March and April when the snow was finally melting and everything was grey and brown and mushy.

Gordon Atkinson, who blogs at Real Live Preacher, wrote a piece in which he reminded everyone that churches, at their heart, are "a silly bunch of dreamers and children, prone to mistakes, blunders and misjudgments." This doesn't excuse us from apologizing and trying to make amends when we blunder and misjudge, or when others make mistakes. It also doesn't allow us to go searching willy-nilly for "the perfect church," because that church only exists in fantasyland.

That town in which we lived and worked in Minnesota had its share of flaws. We had some genuine disappointments and struggles in four years there. We also had some really wonderful moments of grace, which were not of our creation but simply moments to see what wonders God can do in communities dedicated to living in faith with one another, with all our mistakes, blunders and misjudgments.

Perfection this side of heaven is a fairy tale. God chooses what is weak, foolish and imperfect to shame the strong, wise and seemingly perfect. We trust that God will supply the grace and faith necessary to live together as part of the body of Christ: forgiven, set free to enjoy grace when it comes, and dedicated to living together as one community, no matter how imperfectly we might do it.

Grace & peace,
Scott

Anne Rice and the Failure of the Church

Big news last week: Anne Rice has left the church.

Everyone's got their take on it, of course, and I'm no different. Pretty Good Lutherans has a good comment thread going, numerous bloggers are weighing in, and in one of the most crassly opportunistic grabs I've ever seen, the UCC is actively campaigning for Rice to join their flock.

I find myself in the “understanding but not agreeing with Anne Rice” camp. I find the institutional church an exhausting, frustrating, maddening bunch of hypocrites and powermongers far more often than I would like. During the Unbloggableness, a person involved in the situation said, "There are lots of good people here." Unfortunately, there is a threshold over which it doesn't matter how many good people are present: one can only exist in a toxic environment for so long. It appears that for Ms. Rice, that threshold has been crossed, at least for the time being.

I’m forced to wonder how closely connected Ms. Rice was to her local parish/congregation. Did her fame and notoriety keep her from forming the kind of spiritual friendships which carry us through those times of spiritual struggle? Or, on the flip side, was she deeply involved, but spurned or turned away by a cadre of power elite in her local community? It seems, from her description, that this isn't over one issue, so I'm betting on my the former, but we won’t know the answers to these and other questions unless Ms. Rice tells us. Frankly, I hope she keeps it to herself; adding more church gossip to this situation would be gasoline on an already-merrily-burning fire.

Regardless of the actual facts of this particular case, once again the church has failed one of its own. This one’s on us, at least partially, no matter what flavor of Christianity Rice called her home. Until the church acknowledges that we are part of the problem, and takes action to correct those contributions we are making to the dysfunction and dystopia of the life of faith, we will continue to hemorrhage members in increasing numbers. True, every believer must struggle to reconcile the sinner/saint nature of existence for herself, but this in no way excuses the church from its responsibility to deny sin within its power to do so.

The whole thing is saddening. I hold many of the same beliefs as Ms. Rice, according to her original posts, as do many of my friends in faith. The polarizing forces within the church are becoming so abhorrent that the rest of us suffer as a result. We're forced to wonder if we'll be defined by our fringe elements for the foreseeable future: how can we be louder about who we are without sounding the same strident tone as those who are often caricatured as "the Christians?"

We can't. That's just the thing. The way of Jesus doesn't allow us to attempt a hostile takeover of the church, from any political, socio-economic or moral perspective. When any of us attempts to do so, we become the Christians Anne Rice is leaving and Christopher Hitchens despises. We are called to co-exist with fellow sinners in the church - period. Yes, sometimes sin and evil need to be called out, but it seems to me we draw that particular circle far larger than Jesus does, and we don't always have the same things in the middle.

Gordon Atkinson wrote a wonderful reflection on the church a few years ago. If I were advising Ms. Rice, I'd suggest she read it, and take her time considering her next step. I hope her self-imposed exile doesn't last long, as I can't imagine being without a community of believers with whom I can pray, laugh, sing, shout and weep. As for the church, the call remains the same: do justice, love mercy, walk humbly with our God. The rest is not up to us.

Grace & peace,

Scott

ps: One commentary from the Philadelphia Atheist Examiner claimed that Rice's Interview with the Vampire series is "decidedly atheistic." I'm thinking he didn't read The Tale of the Body Thief or Memnoch the Devil, both decidedly not atheistic. Details, people!

On Worship and "Issues"

I really try not to engage in church schadenfreude, as it's not particularly polite. Brother Martin might even argue it's a violation of the 8th Commandment. Whatever - today I'm engaging in it just a little bit because of this. Suffice it to say that if you're dumb enough to publicly state "God's will" endorsing your own interpretation of what to do and where to go, some of us will find a lot of humor watching it blow up in your face.

The comments led me to pondering how to be healthier in dealing with issues that can be divisive. One commenter at the Pretty Good Lutherans story mentioned that at her church, an officer of the congregation was allowed to state his/her "side" on an issue during worship, which to me seemed a gross violation of the way to go about being the church together, regardless of the issue/interpretation at hand.

It comes down to this: whatever our differences may be, they all pale, dramatically, in comparison to the duty and joy of worshiping God together. One of the primary responsibilities I have as pastor to a community of faith is to ensure that whatever the issues, whatever our differences may be, we are first and foremost a band of sinners called and gathered by the Holy Spirit to praise, thank, serve and obey God - together. If we can't worship together, can we really expect to do anything else together?

I recently had the opportunity to worship with one of the primary movers and shakers in The Unbloggableness. Seeing that person walk into the room and sit down made me instantly furious all over again. Not the most conducive mindset for worship, right? But in the course of the hour, hearing God's word together and receiving the body and blood of Christ together reminded me that whatever our differences, we are both sinners in need of forgiveness. In fact, Jesus insisted that reconciliation is more important than worship, something with which I have struggled over the past few months. I'm not reconciled to this person, and at this point, I'm no longer trying to be. Try as we might, sometimes we simply cannot reconcile ourselves to one another, and perhaps it is at this point that a severing is the best way forward. I'm sorry that it came to this, and I'll admit that I'm to blame, not completely, but I'm definitely part of the problem here. Rather than continuing to be part of the problem, we went our separate ways, and maybe that's partially what Jesus was saying. I think he knew that not every disagreement can be reconciled, for an infinite number of reasons. Better to worship with a new community, perhaps, than to continue pretending all is well in the old when it is not.

Using worship as a venue to promote a specific agenda, however, is wrong in every instance. Worship is about God, not us. Worship is about proclaiming the gospel, not airing the dirty laundry. Worship is about being God's baptized and forgiven children, not squabbling over the petty daily problems that arise whenever two or more sinners have to rub elbows regularly. Of course, the old sinner within us will try to violate the sanctity of worship from time to time. I've done it, and regretted it almost from the instant I did it. I've seen it happen in other places, and the end result is never pretty. Pastors walk a particularly fine line at all times, since we have, by far, the greatest number of chances to hijack the gospel to serve our own ends.

There is a genuine need to discern the will of a congregation when division is present and anxiety is high. Upholding the sanctity of worship does not permit any of us to willfully ignore problems, nor does it give pastors and worship leaders the right to duck the challenge of the gospel when it needs to be spoken boldly. We all need to be reminded, however, that no matter how our discernment may differ, we have a responsibility to one another to refrain from threatening or impugning the devotion of our brothers and sisters with whom we worship. Paying lip service alone won't cut it - if we are to be authentic, cohesive communities of faith, we must use our worship time for adoration and our discussion time for conversation, and in all things we must assume that each and every one of us is being as faithful as we can be. Perhaps that's what was missing in the case of Schadenfreude Lutheran Church above - the assumption that, regardless of the difference, they were all faithful people attempting to find the faithful way forward. I pray for healing, and for humility on the part of all of us as we continue to seek for ways to live together, faithfully.

Grace & peace,

Scott