Snowed in...

Hi all - feels like a long time since I've blogged. 2 weeks ago we were all scrambling to get ready for the big snow. There was nearly a week of forced hibernation.

The weather had an unexpectedly emotional impact on me. It both relaxed me and made me restless for a different time and place. It reminded me of my childhood, ski retreats in Vermont in grad school, sledding parties in Minnesota. The silence of cross-countryskiing reminded me of other times alone in a snowy woods and the conversations with God I've had there. The weather called out of me bits and pieces of my personality and my loves that go underground when the weather's above freezing.

It was powerful and gave me joy to reconnect with these parts of myself. My housemate (also a Minnesotan) and I had a blast tromping around and loving the snow. But the overall effect on my mood, 2 weeks out, has been rather unpleasant. I'm starting to return to normal - back in a routine. But there's a big part of me that doesn't want the snow to melt.

Mid westerners get stereotyped as talking too much about the weather. But doesn't the weather affect just about everything else? From an earthquake in Haiti to record snows in DC, the weather is the news, and not only because of its physical effects (destruction, loss of life, property, power).

The weather affects emotions. I wonder how immigrants do it. Removed permanently from the lay of familiar land, the smells of their air, their slant of sunshine. Is part of them always missing?

Corporate influence - should we be afraid (and I don't mean in campaign finance.)

As many of you know, I was irrationally sad at the Vikings' loss last week. Thank you for your sympathy. My oldest brother wrote a hilarious blog post about it. Might give you some insight as to why I took the loss so hard. Read his post, "Purple, Like a Bruise".

But moving onto the Superbowl...

It's old hat to try to draw comparisons between the two competitors for an American church-goer's Sunday attention: Football and Church. But there's a new twist. A mega church in LA, Mosaic, is trying to go where the people are next Sunday by competing in a Superbowl ad contest sponsored by Doritos.

As you can imagine, this has sparked a variety of comments, from "Praise be to the God of Israel, I know this commercial will be shown on Superbowl Sunday, All Glory and Honor to God our Father" to "I hope there aren't any Christians voting for this tasteless kind of humor. It's very sad that a priest was actually behind the making of this." (These and over a thousand other comments are on the Doritos Crash the Superbowl website).

The negative comments generally focused on the tastefulness of making a commercial starring a man faking his own death. For me, the interesting question isn't whether the content of the commercial is immoral, but what's it mean for a church to advertise something that's not overtly their own product?

This commercial advertises Doritos. The church doesn't pretend otherwise. There are no hints of God, grace, community nor any of the things our typical outreach/witness/evangelism (church advertising) campaigns do. This is a totally different thing than the Catholic posters in the DC metro telling you to get to church and find forgiveness.

So why'd they do it?

According to their website, Mosaic (the church) "welcomes people from all walks of life, regardless of where they are in their spiritual journey." No mention of Doritos as part of the church's mission. But wait..

Yes, the explicit message in the ad is that you should eat Doritos.

But implicit in the ad is that church-goers are just like you, they watch football, have a sense of humor, and even think it would be a cool idea to dream up an advertisement to play during the Superbowl. Re: the Mosaic mission this ad says that if your spiritual journey includes a nearly idolatrous love of football (guilty) or an appreciation for witty commercial entertainment (I love the Superbowl commercials), this is the church for you. As the Sr. Pastor, Edwin McManus said in a Yahoo article,

We're not trying to use Doritos to propagate a message, but I think we want
people to know that we have a sense of humor, that it's OK to laugh. So much of
what comes out of the faith community seems so dour and somber and we want to say, 'Hey, we're real people. You can be a person of faith and really enjoy life
and laugh."

Ok. Here's the sticky part: if they win, they could get up to $1 million from Doritos. And now we've got corporate sponsorship of a church. Should we be afraid?

Our congregation recently decided not to take the kick-backs offered by a clean energy company (they'd give 10$ for every household who switched energy providers to wind) even though this company's product was clearly in line with our mission. Something about taking money from a for-profit corporation bothered us, though I'm not sure we ever clarified exactly what it was. We still promoted the wind energy program, just didn't take the money.

So what do you think? About the Doritos ad or about taking a finders fee for wind energy customers. Is it OK for churches to take money (which can help mission) from corporations who are clearly looking to promote their own products?

Curious to hear some responses. You can bet I'll be watching the Superbowl commercials, and it breaks my heart to say, rooting for the Saints in between.

-Peace and joy - Sarah

"He spent his last day singing."

The tragedy in Haiti grew more real every time I heard a personal story about a person who had died or lost friends and relatives. It's unfortunately true that sometimes the tragedy of others doesn't sink in until you hear the story of a person in whom you recognize yourself. It removes the distance.

Benjamin Larson's story brought it home for me this afternoon. He was a seminary student who died in Haiti while there with a group of future pastors teaching and helping support the Lutheran presence in Haiti. Read about his faith in life and death here.

Prayer for Haiti

I was so disgusted by the reaction of Pat Robertson and other self-proclaimed Christians to call the devastation in Haiti God's judgment on a sinful people that if that's what it means to be Christian, then I'm not one. I don't see Jesus inviting us to distance ourselves from those who suffer by blaming a tragedy that destroys lives indiscriminately on the victims.

To me it seems that true Christianity is to follow Jesus' example of suffering with the innocent so that we are moved by compassion to help as best we can. Of course none of us do this perfectly, but hopefully most of us are humble enough to recognize that judging an entire people as their worst hour unfolds is counter to the basic gospel.

Here's a prayer for Haiti published by the ELCA:

Praying for those suffering
Loving God,
in the communion of Christ, we are joined with the trials and sufferings of all.
Be with those who endure the effects of the earthquake in Haiti.
Protect those in the path of danger.
Open the pathway of evacuations.
Help loved ones find one another in the chaos.
Provide assistance to those who need help.
Ease the fears of all and make your presence known in the stillness of your peace;
through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen.

Lutheran Disaster Relief - a way to help people in Haiti

This morning my facebook updates divided into two camps, normal reports on the everyday dramas, and reports on the disaster in Haiti.

- Give me caffeine!

- Don't want to go to work today.

- My heart goes out to Haiti

- Going to fail a test.

- Click here to give money to help Haiti

- Eating cheerios with my dog

- Pray for the people of Haiti.

I didn't know anything had happened in Haiti. This was an eerie way to get news of this disaster. My day is basically unaffected by this earthquake. My status this morning could have been:

"Does anyone know if ingesting beeswax is dangerous? The honey I put in my tea has flecks of wax in it." Or

"Wow, 6 am yoga with Gina's a great way to start the day." Or

"I love writing!"

But knowing that people's lives have just been turned upside down, somehow the little events of my day seem less newsworthy. It seems impossible to just enjoy this day without also remembering those whose lives have just changed forever.

Yet those original candidates for my facebook status are still true. Plus, Right now I'm a little hungry, overwhelmed with the pile of work ahead of me, looking forward to seeing Crazy Heart this weekend, excited about the Vikes game on Sunday. All this while also being sad for the people of Haiti, obsessed with the graphic pictures, sorrowing at the losses, and wanting to help.

It feels terribly selfish and trite that the most honest status for me right now is "Praying for the people of Haiti AND bummed that a glitch in our cable means no Jon Stewart tonight."

In times of such acute tragedy, I'm always grateful to be part of a global church that helps connect the layered realities of my life with the lives of others. It gives a much-needed sense of perspective.

If you find yourself wanting to do something to help, please donate to Lutheran Disaster Relief.

In peace -

Out of the pressure cooker and feeling fine.

Last night some of our church's college students who are still home for Christmas break gathered. In addition to a rousing game of Apples to Apples, we talked about college life and faith.

As a few of them were talking about the workload and the pressure, I could feel my own pressure rise. I recalled the years in college and graduate school where I felt enormous pressure to do it all: get good grades, learn all I could, build a resume. I miss those days sometimes, with the friendships forged over late night projects, the passion borne of challenge, the thrill of learning in that concentrated way. But I would never return to the stress of feeling like everything I did was up for evaluation and would be distilled to a letter on a grade report or a line on a resume.

Take writing. In school nearly all my writing was, literally, an academic exercise. Now I write for real audiences. The words (hopefully) are read by more than just one professor. You'd think I'd stress waaay more now than then. But I don't. There's a bit of stress, yes, but nothing like before.

In grad school I once nearly made myself ill plotting out an environmental audit that would never be implemented for a class assignment. In comparison, I hardly stressed at all about my church's real environmental audit and how to implement the changes.

Hearing these students talk, I was reminded that in the world of academics and the grind of American ladder-climbing, there's little space for grace.

In the world as I live it now, grace is everywhere. As one parishioner kindly said to me after I preached a sub-par sermon recently: doesn't Sarah Scherschligt get an off day sometimes?

We do - we all get off-days! In real life, there are do-overs. There is no permanent record. The voices that tell us otherwise are very loud, but they don't belong to our forgiving, loving God.

I sense that for some of the youth of our congregation, that sense of grace is missing from their daily lives.

The pressure cooker takes them young. A pre-school teacher just told me he has parent teacher conferences coming up. He has to evaluate his students progress in 163 categories. These are 4-yr olds.

I see the benefit of all this for helping kids reach their full potential and serve in the best capacity. But what's the cost of constant scrutiny and evaluation?

I'm grateful to be out of that grind. And I wish I'd been a strong enough person to realize the role my ego and perfectionism had in putting me in the grind to begin with. I envied those who could enjoy life despire constant evaluation.

Now, probably because I've heard it so strongly in my life, I find myself just wanting to say to these students: God makes a future out of failure. You are loved no matter the grade. Grace is real.

The Dream Isaiah Saw

I heard this song live yesterday: The Dream Isaiah Saw by Glenn Rudolph, text by Thomas Troeger. I can't find a great version online, but this one is decent.

In the 6 or so minutes the song lasted, it brought me out of Advent longing and straight into Christmas. The low, steady, military beat of the snare drums marched through the song gaining speed as the chorus, singing of Isaiah's dream of peace, gained momentum too. There was such motion and then in the end, a glorious breakthrough of pure singing. Peace descends.

As I sit here writing my sermon for tomorrow, I'm nearly undone by this song and the way it captures the miracle. In the midst of the powerful forces of this world: armies and marching orders and all the violence that's woven into our lives, God came to us as a baby to bring us peace.

Lions and oxen will sleep in the hay,
Leopards will join with the lambs as they play,
Wolves will be pastured with cows in the glade,
Blood will darken the Earth that God made.

Little child whose bed is straw,
Take new lodgings in my heart.
Bring the dream Isaiah saw:
Life redeemed from fang and claw.

Peace will pervade more than forest and field:
God will transfigure the Violence concealed
Deep in the heart of systems gain,
Ripe for the judgment the Lord will ordain.

Little Child whose bed is straw,
Take new lodgings in my heart.
Bring the dream Isaiah saw:
Justice purifying law.

Nature reordered to match God’s intent,
Nations obeying the call to repent,
All of creation completely restored,
Filled with the knowledge and love of the Lord.

Little child whose bed is straw,
Take new lodgings in my heart.
Bring the dream Isaiah saw:
Knowledge, wisdom, worship awe.

—Thomas Troeger