The news right now is filled with stories about war, suffering, and disaster. Wildfires are on nearly every continent and in too many countries to count. Earthquakes are shaking the foundations of the earth. War rages on in the Middle East, Ukraine, Sudan and elsewhere. The climate is changing as the world swelters in high than ever summer heat. It all reminds me of the 6th chapter of Revelation, where the Four Horsemen come calling. 

The first rider on a white horse brings conquest and oppression, (Revelation 6:1-2) which creates victims, refugees, injustice, and suffering. I think of Ukraine besieged for another year, Sudan torn apart in relentless revolution, the Middle East a bloodbath and economic nightmare. For all the mealy claims of "just cause," it all leaves victims and refugees in its wake. 

The second rider on a red horse takes, "peace from the earth, so that people would slaughter one another." (6:4) I think of war, but also of the daily shootings, hatred, and division all around us. We are a species at war with ourselves, tearing each other apart instead of living together in peace. 

The third horse is black and holds "a pair of scales in his hand, and I heard what seemed to be a voice in the midst of the four living creatures saying, 'A quart of wheat for a day's pay, and three quarts of barley for a day's pay, but do not damage the olive oil and the wine!'" (6:5-6) The poor can't afford to eat (or find housing or childcare) while the rich have plenty of the luxuries of life and get richer day by day. It is an accurate portrayal of the world we currently inhabit.

The fourth horse is green, and the rider brings death through "sword, famine, and pestilence." Iowa has among the nation's highest rates of cancer, and it gets worse each passing day. Measles are spreading in many states. Ebola is devastating Africa. 

We are living in a world where these four horses seem to run unrestrained. Does that mean the "end is near, and it is all coming true?" Not really. The horsemen are constant parts of human history for as long as there has been history. The riders run free because the sin and evil, the stubbornness and selfishness of humanity leave the unbridled.

Revelation does not end here. The Horsemen are not the final word. In the 19th chapter, another rider rises a pale horse bringing righteous judgement and an end to the tyranny of oppression, violence, injustice, famine, and death. That rider is Christ. The message of the Book of Revelation is that these present sufferings are not the final word, and that God will reign in Christ; that all tears will be wiped away; that all that is wrought by the evil of the world will be overcome.

The only future vision that the Book of Revelation predicts is of a new, redeemed world unbound from the power of death and destruction. Trusting that vision leads us not to live in fear and passively wait to be taken out of this world by some heavenly escape hatch. Instead, it calls us to live into the vision of the world to come—to feed the hungry, work for justice, stand against injustice and oppression. It calls us to fight death and embrace living. 

In the face of the four horsemen riding through our lives this day, you can do something. 

•  Pray for Ukraine, the Middle East, and Sudan. Pray that those fleeing may find rest and a home. Pray that women and children are safe. Pray for the people to stand against oppression and stand up for themselves. Pray that peace brought by the Lamb of God comes to that ravaged land. 
• Support efforts to give aid to the people facing wildfire, earthquake and other disasters. Give to Lutheran World Relief, who are already on the ground and active https://www.holytrinityankeny.org/giving-funds.html
• Reconcile with those who have wronged you and make peace with those who disagree with you. In as much as it is in your power, end violence and division by being a force of love and peace. 

You are the Beloved Community, and you can dismount the deadly riders that roam our world with your love, grace, and mercy. 

Pax Christi
Timothy Olson
Lead Pastor

And then someone's voice found the silence and filled it. Amazing grace, how sweet the sound. Thin at first, almost hesitant, like it surprised even the person singing it. Then another voice found it. Then another, until the whole graveside was carrying it together. Nobody had planned it. Nobody had a bulletin telling them to sing, and nobody needed one. The words were just there, already on the breeze, because someone had put them there years earlier, one Sunday at a time. 

We don't just sing our faith. We are formed by what we sing. 

I've seen it at Mill Pond too. I'd left the lyric sheets behind, forgotten on my desk at the office, and stood in front of a room of folk with nothing planned in my hands. So, I set the planned hymns aside and did the only thing I could do: "This Little Light of Mine." "Jesus Loves Me." "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands."

Nobody needed a sheet. Nobody needed a hymn number. After all these years, the hymns are still there. 

I've seen the same thing in hospital rooms. Memory fails everywhere except the hymn. We sing these songs at weddings and funerals, in joy and in grief we have no other words for. Over years, they stop being songs we perform and become the language we pray in. 

That's not a small thing. That's formation. 

The sermon proclaims. The Scriptures read. The Sacraments give grace we could never generate ourselves. And the hymns place the faith on our lips, Sunday after Sunday, until what we've been singing settles into what we actually believe. A hymn doesn't just describe a doctrine. It puts the doctrine in our mouths and asks us to say it out loud, together, whether or not we feel it that day. Often it's the singing that carries us until belief catches back up. 

What we sing matters. Not for taste, not for nostalgia. It matters because every Sunday the Church is teaching us who God is, and in singing, we're learning it together. 

We don't just sing what we believe. Week after week, we learn to believe what we sing. 

Peace
Travis Segar
Pastor for Care and Community​

Throughout the New Testament, images of growth, transformation, and movement are used to describe the faith. Paul writes to the Colossians:

For this reason, since the day we heard it, we have not ceased praying for you and asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of God's will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, 10 so that you may walk worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, as you bear fruit in every good work as you grow in the knowledge of God. (Colossians 1:9-10)

Paul counsels the Romans to "not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of the mind..." (Romans 12:2). He chastises the Corinthians because their divisions and bickering testify to immaturity in faith. "I fed you with mild, not solid food, for you were not ready for solid food. Even now you are still not ready, (1 Corinthians 3:2-3)

Too often we think of our life in the church—a life of faith—like a vaccination. We get our baptism shot, we go to church when we can, to be assured we're OK. Yet, we don't change—we are not "raised with Christ."

The preacher of Hebrews likens faith to running a race, "...let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us..." (Hebrews 12:1)

One of the ways we grow in faith is through engaging in scripture and learning the faith. We send our children to church school and confirmation but then the learning stops. We have offered many opportunities for adults to learn and deepen their faith. This fall we will see if there is interest in doing more. 

We invite you to participate in a survey to learn what members desire to learn. CLICK HERE to find the survey and submit it. We will review these through August and develop a plan based on responses. Help us help you run the race and be transformed by grace. 

Pax Christi,
Timothy Olson
​Lead Pastor

Image by Steve Haselden from Pixabay

This week a group of 14 from our congregation is having the Best Week Ever at Lutheran Lakeside in Spirit Lake, IA. Lakeside sits on 110 acres with a half mile shoreline and 3.5 miles of nature trails.

We are at camp with a total group of 75 campers ages 8-18. Each day includes morning worship, bible study, choice time, all camp games and activities, and closing worship by the water. There is structure and freedom in the rhythm of the camp. Kids begin with ALPHAS devotions at 7:30 each day. There are three meals that we eat all together in the dining hall. We close in worship and then kids get ready for bed with lights out at 10. Built in throughout the day there is time for rest, and peace and choice in how they spend their time. 

We have daily congregation time, and I have particularly cherished this time with our kids. Our youngest campers are 8-9 and our oldest is 17 and most are in between. I love to see kids of different ages playing games and spending time together. Kids who don't see each other at church, because some are Sunday families and some come on Wednesday, are spending hours together at camp. I am excited to see what this growth brings to our church when we come home. 

Sleep is a struggle at camp. In some cases, our campers have air conditioning in sleeping areas, in some cases not. Many are sleeping in a room with 6-10 other people. Most mornings include the breakfast check-in on how well they slept and what they plan to do with their day. It has been fun getting to know these kids better during my morning check-ins. 

Our days are full and long. Full of fun and joy and challenges to overcome. The Holy Spirit is moving among us this week and will send us home transformed and renewed in our faith in God and love of neighbor. Pray for our travel home and ask us about camp when you see us!

Peace, 
Ellen Rothweiler
Minister for Learning

Gambling is everywhere. If you watch sports on television, you have probably noticed the steady encroachment of information aimed at gamblers. Online sports books advertise aggressively making it seem that betting—and being a "winner" is as easy as dialing the phone. You can now bet on anything. You can probably find an app that will let you wager whether this article will be over or under 500 words.  

By graduation he called himself an atheist, and he wore it like an identity. It felt smart. Serious. He'd spent plenty of college getting high and reading, until the pot started getting in the way of the books, so he gave up the pot and kept the books.

Now he had a job in the city, and grief without anywhere to put it. 

On the street that freezing day, someone from the Gideons handed him a small green New Testament. It was so cold the pages had frozen shut. He had to knock it against his knee to crack it open. 

In the back there was a list of verses for what you're carrying. Grief. Fear. Doubt. His eye landed on "anxiety," and it pointed him to the Sermon on the Mount. He read about birds who don't store up grain and still eat, about wildflowers dressed better than kings, about a Father who already knows what you need before you ask. He hadn't expected it to land. But it did, plainly, like it had been written for a specific twenty-two-year-old on a specific cold morning. 

Not long after, he lost the book. 

The next week, riding the bus to work, he noticed the woman next to him reading a different edition of the New Testament. He mentioned that he used to have one and had lost it. She held hers out and told him to keep it. 

He never learned her name. But he kept her Bible, her handwriting still in the margins, and forty years later he still carries it. That twenty-two-year-old was Stephen Colbert. Neither of them knew who he'd become. They just knew who was in front of them. 

She didn't know he'd spend the next forty years carrying that book with him, or that he'd end up in front of millions of people most nights of the week. She just saw a guy who'd lost something and she could do something about it. That was the whole decision. 

Most of the time, we never know how we impacted someone's life. We don't find out who the waiter becomes, or the guy in line, or the kid who won't make eye contact. 

Sometimes we don't know who we're talking to. 

It could change their life. It might change ours, too. 

Peace, 
Travis Segar 
​Pastor for Care and Community. 

One of the most ancient spiritual symbols is a spiral. It finds its way into almost every religious tradition and predates them. One expression of this ancient symbol is the labyrinth. A labyrinth is a spiral that has one path, beginning at the outer edge and leading by a circuitous path into the center, and then a path from the center back out. It is not a maze because there are no dead ends. You can't get lost in a labyrinth. It's not a puzzle to solve; rather it's a path to walk. 

Labyrinths have been used for centuries for prayer, meditation, and symbolic pilgrimage as well as personal and spiritual growth. The famous (and immense) labyrinth at the Chartres Cathedral in France is eight hundred years old!

The labyrinth is a powerful symbol of the Christian life, which is not a destination, but a journey. The disciple of Jesus follows a "narrow way" (Matthew 7:14), walking in the Spirit (Galatians 5:16), runs the race (Hebrews 12:1), and presses toward the goal of Christ (Philippians 3:12-14). The Israelites wandered in the desert and Jesus set his face to journey to Jerusalem and the cross. 

Walking the labyrinth from the outside to the center is a movement of seeking, repentance, and contemplation. The center is an encounter with Christ, meditation on the presence of Christ in us. Moving from the inside to the outside symbolizes being sent into the world to live as a disciple and witness.

At its core, a labyrinth walk is a simple rhythm that reflects the baptismal patter of dying to the old life and rising to the new. It echoes the prodigal's return to the Father. We live this out each year in the season of Lent and Easter. The labyrinth is a physical way to pray and practice the way of following Christ. 

In late summer, plantings and benches will be added to the labyrinth, and our memorial garden will be complete. We will be developing resources and experiences to help all walk the path that leads to Christ and to love in the world. Stay tuned!

Pax Christi
Tim Olson

It is tempting to conclude that if we just have enough faith, all our health problems will miraculously go away. If we don't get well, it is our own fault. We just didn't have enough faith. It is tempting to conclude that faith healing and medical intervention are two separate things. That we rely on doctors because we have too little faith. Though tempting, these would be dangerous conclusions. 

Firstly, faith is a gift. You can't buy it, earn it, store it up, or possess it. God grants faith, according to Luther in his Small Catechism. "I believe that by my own understanding or strength I cannot believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him, but instead the Holy Spirit has called me..." Secondly, I think we fixate too much on the "how" of the miracles of Jesus instead of the "why" of the event.

We would all love to define faith healing as the miraculous, mystical, manipulation of the laws of the universe to grant our desires. Right now, as I recover from transplant surgery, I would love to find that, in the twinkling of an eye and a really good prayer, I could avoid the lifetime of anti-rejection drugs and slow accumulation of strength to be good as new. That is not how it works. 

The faith healing demonstrated in the ministry of Jesus reveals something  to us about God. With each healing, Jesus reveals that a predisposition for healing, wholeness, and life is baked into the fabric of creating. This stands against the powers of death, destruction, and disease. So, rather than wishing I had experienced "faith healing" instead of transplant surgery, I see that they are one and the same. 

I cannot summarize this conviction of faith more concisely than Herman Stuempfle, a Lutheran preacher, teacher, and poet who called us to sing in his hymn We Come to You for Healing Lord (ELW 617):

You touch us through physicians' skills,
through nurses' gifts of care,
and through the love of faithful friends
who life our lives in prayer.

My own healing has been through skilled and caring surgeons and specialists dedicated to the healing that Jesus revealed. It has been tended by the angelic ministrations of nurses who brought care, humor, wisdom, and skilled care. It has also been stoked by the "love of faithful friends" who have prayed and wished us well in countless cards and messages. 

Faith healing happens all the time. Because of the resurrection, it even comes in death because we know God speaks the final word in our life and our death. My own healing is no less a miracle of life in a world of death than that woman who was healed after twelve years.

Pax Christi
Tim Olson
Lead Pastor


​Picture by Falco via Pixabay

Vacation Bible School provides an opportunity for families to grow in faith and connect with church friends through the summer, a bridge between the Spring and Fall Church School. VBS is playful, fun, and engaging. 

Our theme for the week is, "The Lord your God is with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9.

To begin each evening, we sing camp songs during opening, with skits to tell the story. Some songs we sing every year and know by heart. Some songs are new to the group this year, like "I Will Call Upon the Lord," a fun call and response song. Kids learn actions to the songs and there is dancing in the pews. 

As part of our evening programming, we serve a meal. We know finding time to feed kids between activities can be a challenge, so we are removing that hurdle by feeding all our VBS participants and volunteers a delicious and balanced meal as part of our schedule each evening. 

We use a rotation model for our VBS lessons. Each small group will rotate through Arts Crafts, Science, Mission, and Recreation rotations to learn about the theme verse and Bible Story for the day. Bible stories include Abraham and Sarah Follow God (Genesis 12:1-9) and On the Road with Paul (Acts 18:1-11). Science experiences included a bubble volcano, and in Arts and Crafts, kids made a thaumatrope! As a Mission project we will send travel postcards to the homebound. 

Volunteers are what make the week of VBS work. This and last summer we had a 1:1 ratio of teen and adult workers to kindergarten-fifth grade participants. This may seem like overkill, but it provides each child the opportunity to connect with an older member of the congregation. These volunteers lead rotations, shepherd small groups, help with the meal, decorate the buildin, lead music, run audio/visual, and much, much more. 

Vacation Bible School is a joy-filled week of growing in faith and community. A week of Holy chaos. Thank you for your prayers and support. 

Peace
Ellen Rothweiler
Minister for Learning

He was the kind of person whose name on your phone would make you smile. The kind of person you'd tell yourself on a hard Thursday, I just need to make it to Sunday and I'll see Barnabas.

We live in a lonelier world than most of us want to admit. People are drowning in noise and starving for someone who actually sees them. Someone who remembers what they said last week. Someone who calls not because they need something, but because they were thinking about you. People like Barnabas are rarer than they should be. 

His resume is remarkable. He validated the early church in Antioch when nobody else would. He was the first person to vouch for Paul when the disciples were still afraid of him. When Paul gave up on young John Mark, Barnabas refused to. Church history turns on that decision. 

Read Acts long enough and you notice something. The story keeps stopping to introduce you to someone. Dorcas sewing garments for widows. Lydia opening her home without hesitation. Priscilla and Aquila pouring themselves into a young preacher named Apollos. Over and over, Acts interrupts itself to say: look at this person. Look what the church made. Not a program. Not a building. A person. Someone generous, someone present, someone who shows up for the people everyone else has written off. Barnabas is just the first that Luke names. 

Does anyone ever have your name on speed dial for that reason? Is there someone, a teenager looking for direction, a struggling friend, someone on the edge of giving up, who is hanging on until they can talk to you? Are you, for anyone what Barnabas was for John Mark?

Two questions worth sitting with this week: Who is your Barnabas? And who needs you to be theirs?

Peace, 
Travis Segar
Pastor for Care and Community