Kayaking at Rock Cut

On July 2^nd the youth went to Rock Cut for the fifth summer to kayak, canoe, and paddle boarding.  Grant and Pastor Chad bravely tried the water trike, and I don’t think either would recommend it. For the past 5 summers; interns and youth have gotten a taste of one of my passions and spiritual practice.  I absolutely love canoeing and kayaking.  Rock Cut is so beautiful and peaceful. 

I grew up canoeing on the Kishwaukee River.  I remember many trips down the Kishwaukee.  I went to Boundary Waters one summer when I was the youth intern at Zion Lutheran Church.  My husband and I have canoed down the Namekagon River and enjoyed canoeing and kayaking on Beaver Dam Lake in Cumberland, Wisconsin. And of course, we have spent several hours as a family on the lake at Rock Cut.  I hope to explore more lakes and rivers later this summer.

I love being on the water.  The sounds of nature all around me, and the gentle rocking of the boat on the water brings me peace that I don’t find many places.  Being in nature and especially on or near a body of water reminds me of how wonderful God’s creation truly is. 

Being in nature is a spiritual practice of mine. It connects me to God’s creation.  I find it difficult to put to words exactly how I feel when I am in a kayak or canoe soaking up all that nature brings. I love it! It centers me and calms my spirit.  It is good for my soul.  So, I wonder, what is good for your soul?  What brings you peace? 

There are many spiritual practices out there.  Some spiritual practices may include music (another passion of mine), reading, quilting, knitting 

, meditating, journaling, coloring, etc.  If you don’t have a spiritual practice and what to explore one, let me know if I can be of any help.  I hope you all have something that brings you peace and a greater connection to God. 

Yours in Christ,

Pastor Katrina Steingraeber

The Worshippers

It was Monday.

The big church was empty, silent, dim. Light filtered through the high windows but could not penetrate into the recesses. There was no sound. No movement. But the presence of God was there. And on the cross high on the wall at the back of the church the figure of Jesus hung. Alone.

 It was Tuesday.

The church was empty and still. And then women from the church came to clean. As they worked they talked about the recent luncheon. They were somewhat disappointed with the table settings, and they all agreed the fruit punch that was served was a disaster. They were still talking about that as they left. And the church became still and empty. But the presence of God was there. And on the cross the figure of Jesus hung. Alone, with parched lips.

It was Wednesday.

Nothing moved and it was silent in the church. And then a workman came carrying a ladder and tools to repair a light fixture. He plugged a radio into his ear to have something to listen to in the silence and went to work. The pastor came in as he finished and inspected the job and the workman handed him a bill. The two began arguing loudly about the bill as they left the church. And a peaceful silence returned. The presence of God was there. On the cross hung the figure of Jesus, betrayed for a handful of coins.

It was Thursday.

All through the morning and into the afternoon the silence stretched on. Then a car stopped in front of the church and a woman got out. She hurried up the steps and pulled on the doors. The sound rattled hollowly in the church. But the doors were locked and she went away slowly. The people in the church kept the doors locked to keep out thieves. But the presence of God was there. And on the cross hung the figure of Jesus, alone; not like on Calvary, where he hung with thieves on either side.

 It was Friday.

No one came this day and it was still and peaceful in the church. At mid-afternoon a storm swept through the area with a brilliant flash of lightning penetrating every nook of the church, and a crash of thunder echoing and re-echoing throughout the church. But the presence of God was there, and in the instant of the flash of lightning the figure of Jesus could be seen on the cross. His eyes appeared to have closed.

It was the weekend.

And silence filled the church. But then bells began ringing in the church tower. The sound filled the church and told the people it was time to come visit with God. And the people came. Some overslept and were late, and others had to leave before the visiting hours were over because they had more important things to do. But they came and greeted one another, and talked about the things that had happened to them during the week and they joined in prayer reading the words that had been written for them. Then they hurried away to enjoy the pleasures of the weekend. And the church was silent once more. The presence of God was there, and from the cross the figure of Jesus looked down. Forsaken. Abandoned.

It was Monday.

A deep, dim, breathless quiet filled the church. Nothing moved. No one came. The presence of God was there, and on the cross Jesus waited. Alone, in infinite patience.

By William Snyder

Empathy is the Answer

It is hard to follow the news these days. Every story is stuffed with partisan politics. The stakes could never be higher, just like we were told last week and the week before that. It is exhausting to keep track of every little thing when it feels like every little thing is merely meant to elicit an emotional response out of you. From a temperamental climate, to the crisis surrounding immigrants, to the closing of an important hospital in our own city, you might feel pressed to have an opinion about what should be done, and yet powerless to actually do anything.

If I am honest, my own news consumption has declined dramatically over the past year. I am privileged enough to be able to tune major crises out because most have little effect on my day-to-day life at the moment. As a person of faith, though, I am not called to use that privilege to shelter only myself, but rather to advocate for those who are not as fortunate as I am. Because the truth is, I am surrounded by people in my family, my church, and my community who cannot as easily ignore the reality of our rapidly shifting society. In baptism, I am bound to my neighbors in this community of saints, and I am called to share the love of God with those outside of our faith as well. As our hymnal Evangelical Lutheran Worship puts it, the covenant God made with us in baptism is:

            “to live among God’s faithful people,

            to hear the word of God and share in the Lord’s supper,

            to proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed,

            to serve all people, following the example of Jesus,

            and to strive for justice and peace in all the earth.”

I was recently reminded of a profound quote by Swedish theologian, Gustaf Wingren: “God does not need your good works, but your neighbor does.” When we advocate for our neighbors and strive for justice and peace, our goal is not to earn salvation for ourselves but rather to ensure that our neighbors can know the life-giving grace of God in their time on earth. This is the reason congregations like ours invest so much of ourselves into organizations like Mosaic and Habitat for Humanity, as well as our own outreach programs. We share what we have, we advocate for one another, and in so doing we cultivate justice and peace for our neighbors.

In the end, empathy is the answer to every issue that threatens the lives of others. Everyone needs medical care, but not everyone can afford it — especially children, the elderly, and those who live with disabilities. Everyone deserves a place to call home. Our children and grandchildren deserve to grow up in a world with as much natural beauty and stability as we enjoyed in our youth. Whatever the big news story of the day may be, I pray that our actions and responses are rooted in empathy, and that those in power strive for the justice and peace we know in our savior, Jesus Christ. 

Peace,

Pastor Chad McKenna