​I find myself in a weird disposition of late. Maybe you have felt that same way. Maybe you are like me wondering what is happening to the world. When I check out my news feed on my phone, there are always articles about something awful that happened in the past 12 hours. It seems like the world is on fire.

​Perhaps you are keenly aware of the public discussions of something called “Christian Nationalism.” On the other hand, you may be relatively unfamiliar with this movement. It would take a lengthy reflection with lots of words to define, dissect, and dialogue with this growing phenomenon. You don’t have time to read it. I don’t have time to write it (at least today). Yet, it does seem important to shed a little light on the matter. 

​We all go through tough times in life. Times that are turbulent and unsettling. During these challenging seasons, it can be extremely helpful to have someone walk alongside us, especially if they give us encouragement and hope.  

​“I just can’t watch or listen to the news anymore, Pastor. It is too much.” I nodded my head and said I knew exactly what he meant. I hear this from many of you, and feel it in my own heart, on a regular basis. The suffering and pain of this world is enormous. It is overwhelming. It has so many dimensions that one can’t figure out where to start. 

Dear ones of the Southeastern Iowa Synod,  

I am writing to you today, at the beginning of Lent, a season when we journey together as the Body of Christ returning to God in repentance and focusing on practices of fasting, prayer, and charity. It so happens that the season of Lent often aligns with legislative sessions at the state and federal levels. I give thanks for elected leaders, their staff, and all engaged in public service. It is the practice of communities of faith to pray for “ the church universal, its ministry, and the mission of the Gospel; for the well-being of creation; for peace and justice in the world, the nations, and those in authority, the community; for the poor, oppressed, sick, bereaved, lonely, and all who suffer in body, mind, or spirit; for the congregation, and for special concerns, and for with thanksgiving for the faithful departed.” (ELW p. 105-106) I hope in the season of Lent and throughout the year, we pray for public servants, for those in authority, and for the complex world in which they govern.

​I’ve heard it a thousand times. I’ve said it myself. “The youth are the future of the church.” This notion makes a case for youth ministry rooted in institutional survival. If we don’t raise up young people to be faithful, then the church won’t exist – tomorrow. While I understand the thought process that makes us say this, I have come to the conclusion that it is a fallacy.

For the mountains may depart 
    and the hills be removed, 
but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, 
    and my covenant of peace shall not be removed, 
    says the Lord, who has compassion on you. 
~Isaiah 54:10 
​On Monday morning a 7.8 magnitude earthquake hit Turkey. There have been numerous aftershocks since that time. At this time, the death toll is over 19,000 people with many, many more injured. Countless homes have been leveled. It is estimated that over 300,000 people are displaced because of this natural disaster.  

As I watched the horrifying video of police officers beating a man to death, I realized that I was seeing evil in a new way. This was certainly, sad to say, not a unique eruption of violence perpetrated by those who swore to protect and serve. We’ve seen similar scenes unfold all too often. Most of those past incidents were framed in the context of America’s long struggle with racism. In this case, the victim was once again black. So were the perpetrators. I realized as I watched that it is not just racism fueling the violence in our culture, it is something deeper, broader, and more insidious. Cynicism, of a most cancerous sort, is part of the fabric of our culture. Cynicism is the birthplace of racism, sexism, and all the ways we diminish others.