40 yrs of Women's Ordination

40 yrs ago, Beth Platz, serving as the chaplain at the University of Maryland, was ordained, making her the first woman ordained in a Lutheran denomination in North America. She has served generations of Lutheran students humbly and faithfully. Read more about her here.

As part of the recognition of her extraordinary ministry, the ordained women of our synod gave her a communion set that I made.

It was a great honor to make this for Pastor Platz. Pottery is such an obvious metaphor for the journey of faith that it hardly seems worth elaborating. The first thing you do as a potter is "center" the clay. Ya. The lump of raw clay is molded and tended in an artful process that takes time and is somewhat unpredictable. Even after being beautifully shaped, it's worthless and dull until it has felt the heat.


As I made this chalice, I reflected on the heat that the first women pastors had to take 40 yrs ago. Many of them are still taking it, though I'm happy to report that I've experienced very little discrimination as a woman in the ELCA. I more often feel uplifted as a woman pastor.

But still, I recall that ordained women are not the norm everywhere. Last week a teen-aged visitor came to Bible study and said something about how "cool" it was to see a woman pastor. Cool only because it wasn't, for her, normal.

I love being a pastor and I am grateful to Pastor Platz and all the women and men who helped blaze this trail.

About the chalice. I went around and around with ideas for glazing and decorating, but ultimately decided to do very little. In an interview, Pr Platz said "The pastor's 'I-ness' is to be put aside … for the total focus is on the altar and the cross." I kept the chalice simple to keep that focus.

The cross-shaped hole in the stem is a reminder of the scars that discipleship demands us to recognize. It also makes the whole thing more beautiful. Healing is not yet complete, but the celebration of Pr Platz's ordination is a sign that we're on our way.

Clay Pots - adult confirmation

Image by Kirsten Malcom Berry - the Greek quotes 2 Corinthians.

A dream of mine, to lead an adult confirmation class, is coming true here at Prince of Peace.

Add the doom and gloom about our ELCA denominational numbers to the growth of evangelical churches and momma church basically knows something is wrong in how we form people in faith.

We can't count on the traditional Lutheran pipeline (baptism, Sunday School, confirmation at age 13, become a full member of the church for the rest of your life) for forming our people anymore. We probably never could. In our congregation, people come from a variety of religious backgrounds hungry to develop a relationship with God and other people of faith. One of our responses is to offer an adult confirmation program: Clay Pots.

Last night we had the 2nd session of "Clay Pots." We took the name from 2 Corinthians "for we have this treasure (knowledge of God) in clay pots." (some translations use the word "jars") It's no coincidence that I also liked the name because of its reference to pottery.

14 people are in the class. We're a mix of originally Lutheran, Baptist, Catholic, and new to faith altogether. 2 people aren't members of the church. I love that.

I rooted around to find curriculum and help, but only found a couple of churches/highly talented people to help. (Rev. Jessicah Krey Duckworth at Wesley Seminary put us on to the trail of some good churches. She's amazing. Phinney Ridge Lutheran in Seattle and Village Church in Milwaukee WI also shared what they've done).

Basically, I've taken their information and crafted something I thought would work for us.

We'll have a total of 15 1.5 hr sessions plus a weekend retreat between now and the Easter Vigil, when the confirmation will take place.

Now through Advent our focus is Covenant. Christmas and Epiphany we'll focus on Christ. And during Lent we'll focus on Church. Our main texts are the Bible, the Lutheran Handbook (which, I must say is a frustrating resource. Such a good idea, but so cheesy and Minnesotan that it is culturally irrelevant to new Lutherans - but it's the best thing out there and has the Small Catechism in it) and two great little books by a man named Dan Erlander: Manna and Mercy and Water Washed and Spirit Born.

We've had two sessions and have focused mainly on the covenants God made with Abraham and Sarah and with Moses and the Israelites. Covenant sets the stage for understanding baptism, our relationship with God, Jesus as the new covenant. Seemed like a good place to start.

We're in the process of getting our session outlines on the church website so if other churches are interested in doing something similar, they can use as they'd like.

I'm convinced that this kind of opportunity is essential to growing faith - which in turn is essential in growing our churches. We're not doing this in order to grow the church, but to grow in faith. That's important. But I admit I'm excited that we already have 2 people, new to the church, interested in next year's class.

peace all -

2nd bedroom

For the last year and a half, I've had two different friends live with me. Now I am back to living alone and realizing more and more that it isn't how I like to live. Yes, there are obvious advantages - clutter control, scheduling social events, common space being all mine - but these advantages are also disadvantages. Without the inevitable conflict of living with others, I don't grow or learn nearly as much. Living with other people helped make me more human.

But the real reason I like living with people is that it's just so much more fun than living alone. My most enjoyable living arrangements have been times I lived with large groups of people. Our college household was a blast; our community house in Div School had a ton of fun.

Maybe it's because I'm the middle kid of a litter of 5 - a family that played a lot of games and really enjoyed one another - but I'm most comfortable in a heap of humanity. It's just that as an unmarried person with a career that's taken me far from family, finding a living situation that feeds that need for community is hard.

Something like 21% of households in our county are single occupancy. That's a lot of people living alone and I genuinely wonder if those people prefer it or if there are just too few other options.

I've lately been learning about and exploring other housing models, including co-housing. The housemate thing has worked out really well for a while, but this last year was so good that I'm nervous about another.

As I mull this one over, I'm on the lookout for options. In the meanwhile, I'll make up the bed in my guest bedroom because Rachel and Rob are coming - yay! and I'll take Barkely (the dog I've got on loan to keep me company) for a walk.

Hello, my name is...Sarah

Thanks to everyone who commented to me in various forms about my friend Todd's death. The memorial service and the whole weekend in Madison were a blessed time of reconnection with old friends, family (my little brother's family lives there) and most importantly, of honoring Todd.

For the last 10 weeks, I've been writing the Monday reflection in our church's "Summer of scripture" blog. This past Monday, I reflected on one of my favorite chapters in the Bible, Romans 8, and realized all the changes that have happened in the past few weeks. I wrote...In the past week and a half, I've been to the funeral of one friend and the baptism of my godson Adam. My little sister had a baby. My great uncle died. Another friend had cancer surgery. Another friend saw her lima bean-sized child on the ultrasound for the first time. It's been a week packed with endings and beginnings.

Absorbing all this - even the good stuff - takes its toll. Oh, and I forgot to mention that my housemate moved out too. Wah. :(

It makes me think about relationships, identity and role. I am called pastor, sister, friend, housemate, godmother, aunt, daughter. But when it comes right down to it, I'm just Sarah.

Two weekends in a row I was in a church service for an important ritual: memorial service one week, baptism the next. Both of these are events where I am used to fulfilling the role of Pastor. I was nervous going to the Memorial Service because I was just going to have to sit with my own grief - not worry about others. I was not Pastor. I was just Sarah.

The baptism took place at a Church where I used to serve as a vicar. I probably said 10 times, in response to people calling me pastor Sarah, you can just call me Sarah - or if you have to call me something, call me godmother! I was thrilled to take on that role. (The photo is from the baptism).

In response to Todd's death, a former professor got in touch. He signed off "Paul" but I responded: "Dear Prof C..." The Bishop is coming to preach at Prince of Peace this weekend. He has told me to call him by his first name, Dick. But I have such a hard time with it. I always want to call him Bishop. My godfather was, for all practical purposes, known as the Judge. He also had a first name, but his role became his name. I have to think hard to remember his real first name.

I like to be called pastor when I am serving as a pastor. But these past days it's been good to remember what it's also like to be called plain old Sarah.

A photo of Todd Varness and the Homer Court crew

I spent the morning going through old boxes and most of my pictures of Todd involve blurry flailing arms (Todd dancing) and strange faces (Jill). I couldn't get them scanned. The one I'm posting here came from David this morning - thanks so much! It is a version of a much better picture that I can't find. This was taken in the front yard of 1006 Homer Court at party for graduation from Valparaiso in 1996. Shortly after, we scattered around the globe. Kelly was in Ireland, Jill in China, David in France, Todd in Guatemala, and Angela, uh, Chicago. I was in Malawi. I kept that photo in a frame decorated with stamps from their letters from around the world. There remains a precious bond of friendship over distance and time. In the midst of all this sadness, it is wonderful to remember the love that we all shared.

Death of a friend

On Monday an old friend died. Todd Varness was a brilliant physician, teacher and friend. He was a pediatrician in Madison, 36 years old, and his wife Deirdre is expecting their first child (a boy) in just a few months. On Good Friday he was diagnosed with lung cancer - the apparent return of a cancer he'd beaten years earlier. He died 4 months later.

Todd and I were no longer close friends. In college, however, he and a handful of others formed my community. He and I were lab partners (until he quickly passed me by and became my TA); dance partners, housemates, and good friends. So many memories of that time have come flooding back in the last few days. Acrobatic dance moves on the sticky floor of the Phi Psi house; debates over the true meaning of life after death as told by Dostoevsky; Ad hoc Chemistry lessons in the library; nights sitting on the roof of Homer Court. Not all of the memories are positive. He was also probably my first attempt at love, though it was never so clear, and my heart broke many times throughout our friendship. But the memories are all - every single one of them - incredibly full of life. Those were such vibrant times and the growth that occurred then has been a blessing for my lifetime.

Todd ultimately built a life rooted in community, faith, medicine, service, sports, and the love of his family.

I didn't know him well in this new life. But as I've been reading the testimonies of the vast swath of people who count themselves blessed to have known him, it's clear he was the same old Todd. Always up for adventure, fun, kind, spirited, driven, faithful, dedicated to his work and to the people he loved.

To grieve, I did what I do. Some people start baking or playing an instrument or exercising when they need to work out emotions. I preached. If you passed a jogger talking out loud and gesturing animatedly on Wooton parkway yesterday, that was me preaching a sermon to myself.

I centered my imaginary sermon on the text from last week, Luke 12. God reprimands a rich man foolishly storing up all these things for the future saying "this very night your life will be demanded of you." I thought about how Todd had lived his life as if other people had demanded it. People needed something from him - healing, friendship, wisdom - and he gave it. He might not have the future anyone had expected, but the life he gave while he had it was truly extraordinary. Todd packed more into his too-short 36 years than many of us do in the scores of years we've come to expect as our due. The tragedy of his death has touched many lives because Todd touched many lives.

It helped me remember that death is not the end. God's love is bigger than any grief, no matter how bottomless it might feel and a life that was vibrant on earth is even more vibrant now.

The overwhelming feeling I've had in the last 2 days is gratitude. I'm grateful that I got to be so influenced by someone as dynamic as Todd. I'm grateful that the people I met at good ol' Valpo created a community with me that still exists, despite years and miles of separation. Jill, Kelly, Dave, Tim, Rachel, Tiffany, Hope, Leanne and Jeff, Angela - I'm hardly in regular touch with any of these people, but I feel the influence of their friendship as a buoy, especially right now. I'm grateful for our professors - Dean Schwehn, Professor Contino; Margaret Franson, Olmstead, Piehl - are just a few. They took such care with us that they came to our parties and treated as if we might change the world.

I am grateful for this life. And plain old sad for his family and this world that Todd's ended so soon.

Justifry my love (title of a Madonna song as spelled on the CD I got in China 18 yrs ago)

Yes, I know it has been awhile. I wonder how many blog entries begin that way? Been away, busy, and blogging and writing for other things (see the summerofscripture) and just haven't had the mental space to write here too. But want to share what happened last night. I went with two of our sr high youth leaders to an event for young adults sponsored by Luther Place Memorial Church's young adults group. As we left the high school youth group in the capable hands of two other adults, we felt giddy - like parents who just left their kids with a babysitter.

We met with about 20+ young adults and I led a discussion on justification and sanctification. The notes from it are below. During the discussion I learned much about trusting God and remembered in a powerful way that God doesn't demand that I justify myself. Justification is toxic to a relationship of trust and love. God doesn't demand it - God gives it. We are made right.

It was a great time and for me, it was especially affirming to see old friends and people who had welcomed me into their faith community years ago.

Afterward, the 3 of us from Prince of Peace stayed downtown for dinner at Busboys and Poets and we chatted about church, the youth, our own struggles. We laughed and shared good food. The whole evening felt like one big IV drip of God's love. Which brings me to the presentation. Based on one of my favorite Luther quotes - brought to me originally by my friend Rachel. Not health, but healing...

This life therefore is not righteousness but growth in righteousness; not health but healing, not being but becoming, not rest but exercise. We are not what we shall be but we are growing toward it; the process is not yet finished but it is going on; this is not the end but it is the road. All does not yet gleam in glory but all is being purified.

M. Luther. "Defense and Explanation of all the Articles,” Second Article (1521)

Guiding Question: How do we grow in righteousness?

Two theological terms for how we become right with God and others:

#1) Justification – being found blameless. (As in a court of law)

…Since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith…. Romans 3:21-26

#2) Sanctification – being made holy.

“Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Matthew 5:48

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Jesus is the only one who can justify us before God. This is a centerpiece of Lutheran theology. We cannot justify ourselves. It’s grace that we are justified.

Lutherans aren’t so clear about sanctification. We tend to de-emphasize sanctification because we are convinced that despite all the ways we appear to become more saintly, there always lives in us a powerful sinner. We need God’s grace just as much at the last moment of our lives as we did at the beginning.

But what about this quote from Luther and all the ways Scripture and our faith tradition say that we can grow in righteousness? How do we grow in righteousness?

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1) How do you define righteousness? What is self-righteousness?

2) How do you try to justify yourself? How does justification work in your human relationships? How are justification and trust related?

3) How do you think you are “growing in righteousness?” What are the roadblocks? What are your resources? What’s God’s role in your improvement?

4) What does morality – being good – mean to you? What kind of morality litmus tests do you see in contemporary American Christianity - both the Christian right and Christian left.

5) Think about religions/ denominations you know. How do you think that justification and sanctification work out in those religions? If every major religion teaches similar things about morality, what is distinctive about Lutheran Christianity?