Over the past month, what we’ve seen happening for years in the church, has taken a more personal dimension for the ELCA. Our seminary in the south- Lutheran Southern Theological Seminary in Columbia, SC- has made a decision to close its campus and sell it. The faculty, at least some of them, will labor on, offering instruction on the campus of our ELCA college, Lenoir-Rhyne University, in Lenoir, NC.
Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the country, Pacific Lutheran Seminary, will soon suspend all in person instruction and focus only on online education for future rostered leaders of the church. Declining student bodies and higher costs have conspired to lead to these dramatic changes in preparing church leadership. Gettysburg Seminary, now part of the two campus United Lutheran Seminary, has sold most of its dormitories. They will be torn down to make room for a new Gettysburg Library. The few in person students who remain on campus will be housed in one of the remaining dorms. The bishop has said repeatedly that the Covid pandemic only aggravated what we’ve seen for some time- fewer pastors, smaller congregations, young adults not returning to church. The Easter Season has arrived. It is a time for new life. It is a time for us to consider our commitment to the church and to speaking on behalf of Christ to the world and our neighbor. As we live in this season of new life, prayerfully consider the opportunities you have to share the Good News with others. In a hurting world, among hurting neighbors and friends, the Good News of Christ’s victory over death shared through loving words and deeds is a powerful testimony to the faith of the Church and the power of a Christ like life! Blessings! Pastor Geib
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Continuing Pastor Glover’s efforts to offer some thoughts to ponder each month through Zion’s web page presence and since it’s snowing outside, leading me to work from my home office today, I thought I’d give it a shot.
My singer/songwriter friend, the late John Prine, was fond of pointing out the idiosyncrasies of modern life and modern people. He made a career out of giving voice to the things we thought, but chose not to speak. He often used familiar phrases to share his thoughts, phrases that we might use when we can’t figure out anything else to say and turn to in “default.” Try this one. “That’s the way that the world goes round.” Ponder the lyrics. “That’s the way that the world goes round. You’re up one day. The next your down. It’s a half an inch of water and you think you’re gonna drown. That’s the way that the earth goes round.” It is a topsy turvy world. You’re up one day. The next you’re down. Climate news is troubling. The evidence seems clear that we are sinking our own ship. Still, opponents oppose any efforts at addressing our own demise. The party of National Security voted against its own bill to provide some. Those who used to stand in the way of Russian aggression, now cheer them on. More shootings … in a church, a subway, city streets and more. It is a topsy turvy world. What to say? “That’s the way that the world goes round.” When we feel helpless, we echo such thoughts because we have nothing better to say. Scripture says, “God is our refuge and strength.” It is a simple reminder that in the helplessness of life in the world, people of faith turn to the ready help of God, who is our refuge and strength. God is the light on the horizon with the promise of a safe arrival. God is the open arms of a neighbor offering comfort in a time of need. God is the warm bowl of soup for an empty belly. God is bread and wine given and received kneeing or standing elbow to elbow next to a beloved sister or brother in faith. God is hope. God is promise. God is love. The world is topsy turvy. We cannot comprehend or make sense of much of it. But, God is steadfast. That is true and can be trusted. Blessings! Pastor Geib What was it about being adults as children that had us not able to wait until we grew up? Was it the sense of freedom? The ability to make our own choices? Wear the clothes or the styles we wanted to wear? What were we thinking??
This past week was one of those weeks I was simply done with adulting and all the responsibilities that go along with it. I had returned from vacation and continuing education tired, and exhausted. By the time I arrived home, I wanted nothing more to do than unload the car and go to bed. Never mind Bonnie and Shadow were clamoring for attention -- and food. The next morning, I learned why I was so tired and exhausted -- I tested positive for covid. Covid was not on the post vacation to do list. It meant changing plans quickly for Sunday services. My deep gratitude to Holly Gainor and Jason Spickler for pinch hitting at the last minute Saturday morning. It meant cancelling lunch plans with friends, and it meant not being able to visit Vaughn in skilled care. Thankfully, this second round of covid was mild. It was still miserable, but mild. I was able to talk with Vaughn, and tell him it would be a few days before I would be able to see him. A couple of hours later, the skilled care facility called, sharing they thought he had a heart attack and were sending him to the hospital. I was a little scared. OK, a lot scared. I couldn't be there with him, and both our adult children were dealing with health crises in their families as well. God heard our prayers: symptoms were related to a uti Vaughn has. Two days later, the microwave decided to go on the fritz while trying to cook an ear of corn (A colleague joked the microwave caught the corn-a-virus). The next day, I discovered the water heater had a leak and needed to be replaced. This was my last straw. I needed to make decisions that seemed hard: spend money on a service call for the microwave, or buy a new microwave? A service plan for the water heater, or ignore it until it gets too worse? I wanted Vaughn's presence to make the difficult decisions, to sit home and wait for the water heater to be repaired, to remind me to breathe, and take a deep breath, that in the words of Julian of Norwich, "All will be well, and all will be well." Only he wasn't -- and isn't. So I called home, and got my parent's voicemail. The next day my Mom called to tell me she too had tested positive for covid. Ugh! This is it. I'm done adulting. I'm ready for a vacation in the middle of the ocean, with no internet or cell phone. I know I just returned, but I'm ready to sit under the unpredictable plant (see Eugene Peterson's book), and have an adult beverage. Complaint and whining aside, I was reminded by several, of God's grace. Yes, there are and will be weeks where it feels as though everything is falling apart at the same time. There are weeks where it will feel as though nothing can be done correctly, that there will always be more needing time and attention than what is necessary or what can realistically be done. Even in the middle of weeks like these, where we declare to anyone who will listen our doneness with adulting, is the reminder from Romans 8 (paraphrased because of this week): I am convinced that neither fried microwaves or leaky water heaters, or the inability to visit loved ones in skilled care, or being a distance away from loved ones with covid can separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus. God loves me in the rough moments of life. God loves you in the rough moments of life. God loves you, me, and the entire world -- always and forever. Maybe you're done adulting -- temporarily. Maybe life is super overwhelming at this point in time. Maybe world news is just too much to read or listen to. Whatever leads you to not want to adult anymore, please know you are not alone. You are loved. God loves you and so do I. One of the musical artists my Mother listened to when I was growing up was Neil Diamond. He had a song that began with the line "Hello, Again, Hello."
It's been awhile -- a long while since anything has been posted on Zion's website. Even though we may have been silent online, we haven't been silent in person or in the community. We continue to partner with the East Donegal/Conoy Food Bank, helping our neighbors in need. We continue to offer Prime Time once a month for seniors in the community who enjoy food and socializing with others around Bingo. We continue to sponsor Tools 4 School, to be held this year on Saturday, August 12th. We're continuing to tend to the seeds of faith sprouting among us. We're here. To that, we say, "Hello, Again, Hello." If you're visiting Zion's webpage for the first time, hello. We're glad you're here with us. If you're visiting to see if content has been updated, hello! We're glad you're here. Join us as you are able -- in person or online! Check upcoming events and join us, especially for our upcoming Connecting with God through the Arts series beginning in July. Hello, again, hello. We're glad you're with us today! May God's peace be with you! (This is the sermon preached on Sept. 11th, 2022. It is printed here due to problems uploading the service for this day.)
Jesus chooses distracted people to teach the lessons of his parables. To be distracted means having difficulty focusing or concentrating. Outward distraction can have severe consequences – such as the warnings not to text and drive, or talk on the phone and drive. Inward distraction –beliefs or perspectives preventing us from seeing the larger reality and bigger picture exist as well. Over the past several weeks, we’ve encountered many throughout Luke’s Gospel who have been distracted. They have been distracted by Jesus’ presence, and the reality Jesus’ message runs counter to what they know, understand, and experience as the reign of God. The distraction begins with Martha and Mary when Martha prepares dinner for Jesus and is frustrated at Mary’s lack of help. Jesus reminds Martha and Mary of ‘one needful thing’ truly important: taking time to spend with God. After this exchange between Martha and Mary, Jesus encounters several groups of religious leaders and Pharisees distracted as well. They are distracted by their understanding of the letter of the law – the way practices and rituals in the temple and in life are handled. They are distracted by who sits in the best seats at a banquet. They are distracted by who is invited to the banquet. who is healed, when this healing takes place, even how this healing occurs. They are so distracted by their own understanding of the scriptures they have a difficult time seeing and hearing the good news Jesus brings with him: Jesus comes to seek those who are lost. To help them understand this, Jesus tells them a parable, or two, beginning with the question ‘which one of you?’ It’s not a question to put anyone on the spot, or cause any of them to squirm uncomfortably on their pillow while eating. Instead, it’s a question intended to help Jesus’ audience break through and free from their assumptions, and conditions of purity and tradition to see the bigger and broader perspective of God’s plan of salvation for everyone. Jesus continues these questions with examples. If a lamb was missing from the flock, the shepherd would leave the others to find the lost sheep. If a coin went missing, the entire house was searched from top to bottom. As one owned by pets, there have been a couple of times one of the cats has gone missing. Most of the times, it’s been because of really good hiding places. At least one missing pet was a matter of escaping the house without us realizing it. That sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach over a missing and lost pet – it’s hard to ignore. In that moment, the first concern is the safety of the lost pet: where they might have gone, whether or not they are safe, how long have they been missing. So would a shepherd do that for a lost sheep. And as one who sometimes misplaces important documents, or forgets where her keys are, or her favorite pair of sunglasses, there are those moments where the house, is turned completely upside down until the lost item is found. With both a lost pet and a lost document, there is much rejoicing – to the point of wanting to celebrate and throw a party. Jesus tells the parable to help the Pharisees and religious leaders understand his mission and purpose while on earth: to find that which is lost, to find that which is distracted, reuniting, bringing focus, and restoring all into right relationship with God. Jesus turns the world upside down in this understanding and practice. To have all be welcomed, to have all be restored is indeed gift and grace, and part of God’s incredible love for the entire world. Jesus tells parables to distracted disciples. Much in the world lately has left us feeling distracted: concerns over loved ones, illness, the economy, the state of the world around us, and so much more. We may feel because of these distractions, we have lost our way. Dear friends in Christ in mercy, in love, Jesus looks for us. Searching high and low, near and far, Jesus never gives up searching for us when we are lost. In our distraction, we may not always realize we are lost until we are found. Back in August during the annual meeting of the Lutheran Deaconess Conference in Vancouver, Washington, news was learned a beloved Deaconess sister and her husband had not been heard from in two days. After visiting family and camping in Ohio, the couple left to make their return trip to Canada. The problem was no one in the family had heard from them. This was unusual because the couple always checked in with their family in their travels. The cell phone went straight to voice mail. Emails hadn’t been answered. Messages on Facebook weren’t being read or replied to. As a last resort, family reached out to others who might have an idea of their whereabouts. Various state police departments and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police were called in. News of the missing couple spread quickly through the conference. Whatever joy from the past few days of being together in person for the first time in three years, four years disappeared. The joy was replaced with fear, worry, questions we didn’t want to ask, but knew somehow, in some way, they needed to be asked: Had something happened? Were they alright? What could have gone wrong? Lord have mercy, Kyrie elesion, on them, their family, on those searching, on us. More than a few prayers were prayed that night for the deaconess not with us, and now, suddenly lost from the community. The following morning, the conference began with worship. Physically, there were many bodies in the room, but mentally – our hearts, our minds weren’t turned to God. We were distracted: worried for the safety and well-being of the lost deaconess and her husband. We wondered. We worried. We waited. We prayed: Were there any updates? Any word? What could have happened? Were they okay? I know there was a sermon that morning. I heard it, but with apologies to the deaconess who preached, I honestly don’t remember what the point of the message was. What I do remember is after the sermon, after the hymn of the day, an announcement was made: those who had been lost were found. The conference room erupted in shouts of joy, applause, tears of relief, hugs, exclamations of “Praise God!” or “Thank you, Jesus!” It didn’t matter we were in a banquet room at a conference center. It didn’t matter others walked past the room, wondering what in God’s green acres had happened to spark so much joy and celebration. The cloud of distraction was removed. The assisting minister took a moment of silence to center herself before offering a prayer of thanksgiving for the entire assembly. Technology is a good thing – as long as it co-operates, and as long as one is in a geographical place to allow technology to be used. Before leaving Ohio, they bought an inexpensive cell phone to use on their return trip to Canada. Inexpensive was exactly that – cheap, and unable to connect to cell phone service in the areas they were traveling through. Several campsites they stayed at didn’t have reliable or strong enough internet access, making sending and receiving email messages difficult, creating worry and panic for loved ones. They did not realize how much grief and worry they had caused their children, and loved ones, or to those in attendance at the conference. When they heard the story, heard how their grown children called various state police departments, and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, they decided to exchange the cheap cell phone for a better working phone. They were also embarrassed by the unexpected attention received. Mixed in with the embarrassment was also relief. Relief knowing many had held them in prayer. Relief knowing multiple agencies began a search near and far, high and low for them. Relief knowing they were cared for more than they realized. ’Rejoice with me’ Jesus says. The unintentional lost sheep have been found. The distracted lost sheep has been redirected. The missing coin, the missing important document have been found and restored in their proper places. YOU, distracted, worried, missing from the flock precious child of God are found, loved, and returned. Thanks be to God! Amen. I have a love/hate relationship with Ash Wednesday.
I love Ash Wednesday because of the memories of unexpected joy and humor of previous years: a colleague who whispered for me to lift my bangs so he could places ashes on my forehead, or the year three congregations gathered together in a festive mood, only to have the mood quickly change with the somber reality of why were gathered, or the joy of watching young children watch as the cross is traced on their forehead. And, there are years I do not like Ash Wednesday. At all. I don't like it because no matter how far in advance I try to look ahead, or begin to prepare, this day arrives with a sense of catching me off guard and never being fully prepared. I didn't want Ash Wednesday to come this year. In fact, I wanted to, tried to avoid it, pretend even that it wasn't on the calendar. But I couldn't, and I can't. It's here, placing us on the beginning of another Lenten journey, and moving closer towards the cross of Christ. Ash Wednesday this year comes against the background of so much going on in the world: effects of a lingering pandemic on multiple fronts, war in Ukraine and other places around the world, global warming, climate change, and so much more. The heaviness of these concerns mixes with the weight of Ash Wednesday, and why it is we hold this day meaningful. It also provided opportunity to rant and vent to God: Do we really need one more reminder of our mortality? The answer that always returns is "Yes" -- and here's why. Through the centuries, the Church has endured moments of uncertainty, and times of conflict. In these times, it has also provided strength, comfort, assurance, and hope. The Church reminds us, too, of the reality we profess in the Creeds: the hope and the promise of the resurrection and the new life we have in Jesus. We need this day -- again -- to remind us -- and ground us as we begin our Lenten journey: to turn our hearts back to God through prayer and repentance. to admit and recognize the attitudes, behaviors, beliefs, practices and thoughts that prevent us from fully loving our neighbors as ourselves. to be a better neighbor to the poor, homeless, refugee, hungry, addicted, lonely, or the forgotten in our communities. to turn our very lives back to God, the Creator, who turned nothing into something, and in turning nothing into something, declared everything to be good. This declaration of everything being good includes every one of us. Normally, we don't think of dust as being good. It can -- and does -- tickle our noses and make our eyes dry and scratchy. Yet dust and dirt -- common elements were used by Jesus to bring healing. If Jesus can do that with dust and dirt, how much more can and will Jesus do that for us? As we begin a new season of Lent, may it be a time of turning back to God with all our hearts. In this turning back to God, may there be reminders of being dust of the earth, made in goodness.
I may be dating myself here, but remember the song "Under Pressure" by Queen? 'Pressure, pushing down on me, pressing down on you, no man ask for Under pressure that burns a building down Splits a family in two Puts people on streets' begins the song. The song reflects on pressure in life: that which we put upon ourselves, and that which we allow others to put on us. We don't often realize it, but living under constant pressure can impact each of us significantly. Last week during the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, United States gymnast Simone Biles withdrew from the team competition, and later from the individual competition. (At the time of this writing, I don't think she has completely withdrawn from the individual competition, but I may be wrong.) While the world was stunned at this news, Simone gave her reasons: that she needed to take a step back and reprioritize life. And, with good reason: Health in any form is more important than winning the Olympics -- in any sport. I've watched the replay of her vault routine a couple of times that led to the decision. Even without the commentators remarks throughout the routine, and not being a gymnast (unless one counts getting out of bed when three cats are content in the same space), it's noticeable: Simone Biles is not herself. Anxiety and pressure have a way of prompting us to respond or act in ways that are not necessarily ourselves. We may do things that aren't normal for us. We may find ourselves more impatient than normal. The littlest thing may cause us to burst into tears. This past year has seen many people under a ton of anxiety and pressure. Worries over employment, housing, food security, the covid virus, the covid vaccine to name a few. With so many concerns on our minds, it's easy to feel as though the weight of the world rests on our shoulders. Should it? No, but it often feels that way. It shouldn't, and doesn't need to be this way at all. Over the past few months, one image often used has been the anxiety and pressure people have been feeling is very much like an iceberg. From the surface, only so much can be seen. Underneath, the iceberg might be bigger and broader than realized. As the pandemic takes a new direction, the tip of the iceberg many chose to reveal has changed as well. The tip of the iceberg may have melted. More may be lying underneath. Some maybe trying to hold on for dear life. Wherever you are on the iceberg, PLEASE KNOW, You are not alone. I am here for you. The church is here for you. If you need someone to talk to, to provide a vent from the pressure, I'm here for you. No questions asked, no assumptions made. Call me, text, email, smoke signal me -- anything! We can even go for a walk to help relieve the pressure and anxiety of life. There is more -- way more -- to life than living under and in a constant state of pressure. More importantly, God cares deeply for you. God does not want to see you under constant pressure. Rather, God, through Jesus, invites all who are weary, and heavy laden, to come to Jesus, and Jesus will give rest. The rest Jesus gives clears anxiety, heals the soul, and provides relief. Remember, I am here for you. We are here for you. Please reach out to help ease the pressure you may be feeling at this time. I'm praying for you. Praying for healing, for strength, for courage. Praying that in God's way, our paths may connect to help one another through the pressures we may each be experiencing. May you know God's presence today, tomorrow, and always. Blessings and grace, +Pr. Traci Remember last year at this time? Vaccines for the coronavirus were still being researched and developed. Many summer activities were canceled or postponed. As a way of providing hope, a local radio station did a twenty-four hour 'Christmas in July' music marathon. Twenty-four hours in July of Christmas music.
Over those particular twenty-four hours, I didn't listen to that radio station. At all. Which is a shame, because usually I do, and usually enjoy the music played on the station. Listening to Christmas music in July, during a pandemic, just seemed, well, a little off. I just could not bring myself to listen to Christmas music in July. Fast forward a year. In planning ahead, there was the realization the days in July match the days in December. Both months have the same exact daily numerical listing. Thinking switched to "wouldn't it be cool (no pun intended) if we had a Christmas in July service on Sunday, July 25th?" The idea was dismissed, until our organist, Holly, commented "we should do a Christmas in July service." Celebrating Christmas in July has been around possibly since the 1940's. One legend behind its start is that it was started as something to do at camp. Another legend is a pastor brought this tradition from one congregation to another as a way of encouraging the congregation to support global mission earlier in the year rather than at the end of the year. Still a third is to give those in the southern hemisphere a chance to experience Christmas in December. Regardless of the reason, Christmas in July is perhaps a little quirky (aren't we all in our own ways?) And, I honestly don't know about you, but I'm okay being a little quirky at an unusual time of the year in an already quirky year. 2021 has been a quirky year for various economic, political, and social reasons. Our economy continues to recover from the impacts of so many out of work over the past year, and gradually returning to the work force. Politically, our differences continue to divide us rather than bringing us closer together as a nation. Socially, new variants of the covid virus are making their way across the country. The continual quirki-ness of the world around us almost seems normal. Until we remember that when Jesus was born, the world had its share of quirks too: a government that required everyone to be enrolled for a census to be taken, meaning those who traveled to hometowns often were met with the reality of no place to stay. A baby boy was born in a manger -- not a hotel or hospital room, nota palace, but a manger. Who first heard this news? Angels announced it to shepherds. Shepherds in turn came to see what had been told them, rejoicing as they left what they saw. Later, wise men, sages, from the east would come to worship. Perhaps the world isn't so quirky after all. Half birthdays are a reason to celebrate, right? In the quirkiness of the world around us, we need Christmas in July. We need Christmas in July to remind us Jesus wasn't born for perfection. Instead, Jesus was born to love the quirkiness in each of us, to love the quirkiness in society. In loving the quirkiness of humanity and society, to take on human form, and lose his life. Yes, we need a little Christmas this year. We need it earlier than December. We need a pause, a break from the quirkiness of the world to remember Jesus lived through quirkiness in his lifetime as well. More importantly, we need a pause to remember Jesus' birth, life, death, and resurrection continues to offer hope now more than ever. We do well to blend our voices joyfully in song (masked and unmasked) to sing "O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord." "Then he went about among the villages teaching. He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics." (Mark 6:6b-9) When you go on a trip, regardless of the distance or the amount of time you will be gone, what type of packer are you? Are you an over-packer -- one who packs everything so that suitcases are overpacked and heavy? Or, perhaps you're an under-packer: packing essentially necessary items, needing to buy once arriving at your final destination? Years and years ago for a family vacation, my parents did their best to instill in me the lesson "pack only what you can carry." Where they meant in one trip to the car and to our final destination, my child's mind heard it differently. Stacked by the bedroom door was a pile of items I wanted to take with me -- in multiple trips. Somehow, all the items made it into the back seat of the family car for that trip, into our final destination, and back home. I'm not sure how, but I do remember it being rather cramped in the back seat. The disciples were a different bunch of packers: they were extremely extra light weight packers. No extra tunics, no extra money, not even extra food. The only items they were to take with them was a staff (think walking pole/stick) and their faith. They were to rely on the generosity and kindness of those who heard the gospel. "Take only what you can carry." How often we go through life taking extra weight with us, whether the weight be from emotional, financial, personal, physical, social, or spiritual hurts and wounds. Walking through life with the weight of the world on our shoulders leaves little room for delight and enjoyment of others in our life, or the world around us. "Take only what you can carry." I think of those from the Surfside Condo in Miami, Florida, forced to evacuate before the remainder of the building was demolished. Knowing there would never be another return, residents were forced to make difficult decisions of what to take, what to leave behind. I think of those who left areas to avoid being in the path of Tropical Storm Elsa, and those who have left everything behind in order to find a new life here in the United States, and those who continue to leave everything for new life. I think of the pilgrims, the immigrants, the settlers of American history, named and unnamed, famous, and infamous, who came searching for religious freedom, the search for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The difficult task of travelling across an uncharted country with unknown challenges: "take only what you can carry." -- possessions sold off to finance crossing oceans; or traded once arriving for food or other necessary supplies. And I think, too of the Israelites fleeing from Egypt (okay, that might have been a little more than what they could possibly carry, but they were doing what had been told of them to do.), or Elijah fearing for his life, and going into the wilderness: a place of either running away from God or finding God; and Mary and Joseph travelling to Egypt, taking the infant Jesus with them. "Take only what you can carry" takes on new and different meaning. Wherever you travel to, wherever you visit, whatever you pack -- remember to take your faith with you. It doesn't take much space, and can withstand multiple adventures, challenges, and opportunities. The best part? As it is shared, it grows, and still doesn't take much space. Take only what you can carry -- take your faith with you in all things. You'll be amazed! |
AuthorSPastor Richard Geib Archives
March 2024
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