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Pastor Kruse's First Glimpse
A Pastor's Look at What is going on in life in Donnelsville, Ohio
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A Though on All Hollow's Eve
It was a very normal day, this last day of October 1517. It was All Hallows Eve, and at evening prayer the celebration of the feast of All Saints was scheduled to begin. The town church would be packed and prince and peasant, scholar and student alike would be flocking to the church in the city church for prayers and the celebration of Mass. A young professor and monk at the local monastery seized the opportunity to invite his fellow university teachers to have a theological debate with him. And so it was that he wrote 95 points of theology that he was prepared to debate and defend against all comers.

History records that no one took him up on his call. What did happen, however, was tied to the invention of a new fangled piece of equipment: The printing press, a device as important to the 16th century as the rise of the internet in our time. Someone quickly copied the list of theses and yet someone else found a printer willing to mass-produce it. It was widely distributed. What followed was to last a generation and was to fundamentally alter the nature of the church and human history. The Reformation had begun and a simple monk, wracked by fears and doubts concerning God and salvation, and a new piece of technology were to blame for it.

No one could anticipate on All Saints’ Eve 1517 where it would lead or how it would end. In many ways both sides kind of made it up as they went along. What was constant on both sides, however, was that neither seems to have sight of their final goal. One side would not and could not abandon the idea of a united church submitted to the Bishop of Rome, the other side would not and could not abandon the idea of a church united by the preaching of the clear and unadorned or obscured Gospel of Jesus Christ. For both sides it was a struggle over how the question: “What is the church and what is it good for,” was to be answered. One side said: “It is the undivided body of Christ and the pope is Christ’s representative here on earth who continues to lift up Christ’s sacrifice for the world.” The other side said: “It is the body of Christ under the head of Christ alone and it is to tell the world that Christ’s sacrifice has worked the forgiveness of sin and it is to give the world the token of that forgiveness, the sacraments.”

We are obviously the heirs of the latter party in the dispute. But the larger attitude, one seen in both party’s actions during the time Reformation should not escape us. Both had a single goal in mind, they were clear about that goal, and they were not to be distracted from it. The question before us is: “Do we continue the convictions of the Reformers whose teachings we follow and are we as clear about it as they were?” The church, as we see it, is to bring Jesus to the world and the world to Jesus. It is that simple. But, and it is an important “but,” is that what we think we are doing?

The wisdom of the ages is that everyone will end up achieving exactly what the set their minds to. The problem is that most people are not really all that aware what their minds are set to. The Reformation can be a call to us to think about this earnestly and to set our minds to the same mind they had, the same mind that even the apostles had: We, First Lutheran and St. Mark’s Lutheran Church, need to be about the work of bringing Jesus to the people and the people to Jesus. Everything else we can make up as we go along.

This is Serious
Bishop Enquist was uneasy. His ministry as bishop was going well enough since he had gotten elected 3 years ago and as luck would have it, he lived close to synod office anyhow so he did not have to leave his beloved Annamoose where he had settled 20 years ago to take the reigns as at Nordstar Lutheran Church. But the job brought stress and now his guts were telling him about it. There was no choice, tests had to be run, big tests, including the dreaded scope. Yes, Enquist needed a colonoscopy.
The evening before a colonoscopy was unpleasant. There were pills to take and a vile fluid to drink that was to clean him out. Bishop Enquist did not get to bed until well after midnight and got up a couple more times after, but at about 2 in the morning he finally fell asleep.
Dawn found him sitting in the pre-op room dressed in nothing but one of those silly hospital gowns that tie in the back and are not very dignified. The door opened and a man entered with his chart in hand. It was Leland Engebritson. Bishop Enquist knew Leland. He was the sextant at Nordstar and ran the scales down at the Annamoose elevator and last May he had gotten elected to Synod council. “Leland? What are you doing here?” “Oh! Good morning Pastor Enquist. I thought it would be you. I’ll be doing your procedure today. Did you prepare as the instructions called for?” “Leland,” stuttered Bishop Enquist, “why? what? I was expecting Dr. Gjiovik; what are you doing here?”
“Oh; let me explain: I am a lay- doctor. It’s a new thing. I still work at the elevator most of the time but I go to Bismarck one weekend a month for some training and take a one-week course at the med school in Minneapolis once a year. I only come in to do procedures once and again when there are no doctors available. It is cheaper than full time doctors and why have people be without doctors if they can have a lay doctor.”
Bishop Enquist could not help it but his legs grew restless and started to make running motions as they were hanging over the side of the gurney he was sitting on. He slid off the gurney, his legs still furiously pumping but fell down at the first step and went flat on his face.
Suddenly all was dark. His eyes caught sight of the illuminated dial of a clock. He was at home in his bedroom. It was 4:45. He needed to rise and make his way to the hospital.
Syneeva had driven him and now the two were making their way down the hallways. They turned a corner and there before them stood Leland Engebritson. Bishop Enquist almost jumped out of his skin. He even let out a scared yelp. “What are you doing here Leland” Enquist asked? “Are you here to do surgery?” Leland looked at him strange and then started to laugh. “No, I just dropped Margarit off for work. It’s off to the elevator for me.” After a few more words, they parted.
Dr Gjiovik, the nurse and the nurse anesthetist came to get him and took him down the hall to the O.R. Bishop Enquist was impressed as he watched the three of them go about their work. It was as if all three had never done anything different. Every move was with purpose. Every instrument was in a place where everyone in the room expected it to be, they spoke in medical language terms to each other but it seemed that all knew exactly what the other meant when they said what they did. There was no confusion or hesitation. “They all had been discipled into this craft,” he thought. “I wish my churches knew how to work that well.” He knew he was in good hands.
The nurse anesthetist administered a shot into the I.V. He drifted off to sleep and dreamt about a Eucharistic service where everyone knew exactly what to do and when, even the acolyte. The service was followed by a meeting where everyone was on task, and there was no misunderstanding. It was as if everyone had the same vocabulary and no one needed to have things explained to them.
Syneeva was sitting by his bedside. It was noon. “You gave us a scare, Arvin,” she said. “What happened?” “Your blood pressure crashed during the procedure. Dr Gjiovik said it was really serious. It’s O.K. now.” Enquist remembered the efficiency in the O.R. and felt glad again that he had been in good hands. Margarit Engebritson entered; she was his nurse. With a few well-rehearsed maneuvers she removed Bishop Enquist’s I.V. and began the discharge procedure.
Syneeva drove him home past the elevator and the school to their house at the edge of their beloved Annamoose. It was 5 when they got home and the sun was setting. He slept soundly that night.
He was at his office the next day. A meeting was coming his way about all the little churches that could not afford pastors. Who was the head of the task force but Leland Engebritson. Leland began the meeting “ Bishop we got to do something for the little congregations: How about we train ‘lay- pastors.’ They still work at their day job most of the time but they go to Bismarck one weekend a month for some training and take a one-week course at the Seminary school in Minneapolis once a year. They only come in to do communion and preaching when.. “ “When there are no doctors available. It is cheaper than full time doctors and why have people be without doctors if they can have a lay doctor,” interrupted Bishop Enquist. The room fell into a stunned silence: “Doctors?” someone asked in surprise, “I thought we are talking about pastors. Lay doctors?” “Are you all right?” Asked Leland.
Enquist was a rarity among Norwegians. Unlike most of them, he could think while being stared at. It was this that led to him being elected Bishop. He cleared his throat. “You remember the story of Elijah and Elisha?” he asked. Some heads nodded. “When Elijah threw his mantle on Elisha, Elisha realized that he was to be a prophet, something holy, something serious, something that was an awesome responsibility. He knew that he needed to be a single-minded disciple for a long time to live up to the task. He killed the oxen and cooked them over the fire he made from the wood of his plow. He was not coming back or looking back.” He looked at Leland. “He was done working at the elevator, once and for all. No looking back, no keeping options open, no escape routs planned. That is what you do when you are serious about something that is serious business”
He continued: “What the pastors of this synod are doing is at least as serious as what Dr. Gjiovik and his staff does over at the hospital. If we still believe what the creeds say, that Christ will return for judgment, then it is probably more serious still.”
He turned again: “Leland, I had a nightmare the day before my procedure. I got to the hospital and Gjiovik was not in. Instead you came into the room as a ‘lay- doctor. ‘ I could not get out of the room fast enough.” “Now Pastor, you know I cant stand the sight of blood!” Leland replied. A long round of laughter followed.
The laughter subsided. Leland and Enquist were looking at each other. Leland broke the silence: “Pastor, I have decided to go to seminary instead. I am going to be brother Leland, the preacher” “I’ll write you the most glowing recommendation and we will get you into the candidacy process. It will be hard but worth it. You are going to do something serious, it will be worth it. And one final thing: It will be ‘Pastor’ Engebritson and you’ll make a fine one.”

Advent Journeys
Advent is a quiet season of hoping. It is a time we set aside to look at life and ask the pregnant question: Do things, really, have to be like this?
The world about us helps us in this respect: we see and hear it saying to us: “Buy and be happy,” or “this year, make sure you get so you can be happy.” Rather than fight it we can let it be an occasion for us to remember what we really long for and what our hearts truly desire: the coming Lord Jesus Christ, of his justice and his Spirit.
As the season draws closer to the anticipated Christmas celebration we might want to adopt the mind of Mary and Joseph. The air in their house was also pregnant with not merely possibility but certainty: He was coming. Yet, they had no control over when and they had no certainty how his coming would alter the course of their lives. But they waited in joyous anticipation. As should we...

And Advent Prayer

Oh come you long waited friend. We want so much to be in your loving embrace. We have sensed your presence now and again. Now, old friend, show us your face and let us hear your voice.
We are hungry for the peace of your kingdom. Let our hearts be your forge where sword becomes plowshare, your pantry where need gives way to feast, your stove where the coldness of the world gives way to your own brilliant fire.
In our days may we be blind to everything but your light, deaf to everything but your voice, and dumb to everything but word. Our lives are in your hand. Amen! Amen! Come Lord Jesus!

Take your Vitamins
The doctor came into the examining room with the results of my blood tests. We exchanged niceties and got down to business: “Now, Mr. Kruse,” he said looking down at my test results, “it seems to me that the chemistry of your blood looks suspiciously like that of a stick of butter. What do you intend to do about it?” I stuttered something about diet and exercise, vitamin supplements and cholesterol meds; he nodded approvingly, wrote a prescription, and left the room. Thus began my 4-year odyssey with living healthy: exercise, low-fat milk, oatmeal, spinach, vitamin pills, weight loss, the works.
I found myself at the 2007 Southern Ohio Synod Assembly last week. The news from the ELCA Board of Pensions was grim: Pastors used to be a good risk for health insurance companies but now we are considered a high risk group and we got to do something about it. We all need to go and exercise and the B.o.P. will be happy to assist us and make sure we do it. I went to the Augsburg Fortress store at the next break and browsed through the books and gifts and knick knacks when my eyes spotted a small pop can with the label: “Sermon Helper.” I read labels these days; it’s that health kick I am on. I noted that this thing was loaded with sugar and caffeine. It seems someone took a Jolt, or Vault, or even Red Bull can and put a new label over it and is now selling it on Old Lutheran dot Com. The irony: We complain pastors are getting to be a sick bunch and then we sell them carbo laden energy drinks? At the same assembly?!
It was not the only shot of irony for the weekend. If, by Saturday noon you were not ready to laugh hysterically, you might want consider getting some irony supplements. Oh, I think I just registered on the corny meter. Sorry about that.
Think this through with me: Here we had an assembly anthem: “All are welcome;” a pleasant enough Marty Haugen number, if you like Marty. Every verse starts happily with the words: “Let us build a house..,” followed by a sentence or two describing some positive church community attribute. Juxtapose upon this the Old Testament text for the day: Genesis 11 in which I read: “Let us build a tower..;“ and, no, it was not for holy or blessed reasons that the tower was going to be build. So, yes, I missed worship on Friday and I am sure someone explained it all there but on face value I cannot resist looking at this and ask: does this not make for a mixed message?
But the ironies go on: There was no mistaking it: a new Lutheran church is on the way. That was the message from Vice President Taylor, Ernesto Hinojosa, and David Daubert. A new church is coming, they said, that will not be focused on a pastor, or a building, or the label “Lutheran;” a new church that will not look at people as wallets with legs. It sounded like a good deal to me. After all at my first little congregation they didn’t even bother to give me a key to the place. Why would I need it? They were taking care of things there, thank you very much. There was no office there and no need for me to be there when they weren’t and my predecessor did not have a key when he left after 15 years. They finally gave me a key one day: they called me to come to the front at a family night worship service as a surprise and officially presented it to me as a way of saying: “We now think the can trust you.” So, I was ready to say to Daubert and all: “Where do I sign up?”
But before I could get to ask that, I had to consider some resolutions. One was all about a pastor in Georgia I met in seminary and how we needed to help him stay a pastor because keeping him a pastor would send a good message to other people who are gay. I am not against sending good vibes anywhere and neither am I against having rules, or enforcing rules, or changing rules; I might sometimes even be inclined to see the rules bent, but just a bit. But good grief: Did we not just make being a pastor the center of things again? If we think that the best news we can send to people is that they can be ordained if they’d like to then, maybe, we need to go down to the hardware store and see if they are hiring. If I had to choose between: “Yes, we have toilet plungers in stock,” and “Yes, you can be ordained,” then the former sounds like better news to share. Yes, I like my job; don’t worry. There just happens to be better news to share and better ways to handle Brad’s situation. Let us also mention that the debate sounded more like Babel after the confusion than a happy Marty Haugen ditty.
To drive it home some more, we had another resolution, this one about how to build a better bishop. I am all for informed decisions; I am all for good decisions, I am even in favor of bad decisions; they lead to wisdom when they are reconsidered but here is my problem with this decision: Didn’t we just build a new plan that will make sure that we will be preoccupied with the office of bishop for about 6 month of the next year? I happen to believe that, indeed, we need to worry about who we are as synod and what it means to be synod and how we are involved in its work and it in ours. The bishop needs to fit in there but only as a single piece of the puzzle, and that is all. Maybe bishop needs a key, maybe not, who can tell right now? We will not do that self-discovery work this year. Instead we will fixate on the office of bishop.
So here we had David Daubert telling us that the church will be less clergy centered in the future and we invited him to say that at an assembly where we happily proceeded to make pastordom in all its splendid forms the center of discussion. To paraphrase Jeff Foxworthy: If you were not laughing, you might just be irony deficient.
To make sure that we did a complete job in the matter we had our annual debate about the budget, or is that “fiscal plan,” I struggle to explain the difference. We argued about who gave what and why and why not, and we argued what we were giving to where and why, and we heard about a new foundation that will come to us and ask us to give some more so they can give it to even further things; and.. then my eyes glazed over. But just before that happened I realized that the discussion had just treated our congregations as wallets with legs. Wallets with legs that, some complained, not only had wills of their own but insisted on using them as well, and in ways we don’t approve of at that, and to make the joke complete, we insisted that we needed to be better wallets with legs for church wide.
I don’t think Hinojosa was in the room any longer by that time but I really wanted to ask him if this was ever an issue under that highway overpass where his second flock has its worship services and where the people have nothing to give but themselves and they probably were still working on the concept that they were anything that God actually wanted though I am sure Ernesto is working to convince them of that really hard.
I stopped at the health food store on the way home and bought some organic spinach- for the iron, some Ginko and Green tea for mental alertness, and a new bottle of Niacin to combat cholesterol. I am doing my part to keep the Board of Pensions happy. My phone rang: “Honey, the toilet is not flushing again and I broke the rubber thingy at the end of the plunger..” “I’ll pick up a new one,” I answered and went to the local hardware store. I asked the clerk if they had a plunger in stock. She had good news to tell.
The way it was and is
What follows is the 1777 Congressional proclamation of Thanksgiving. I am posing it for a simple reason: On Thanksgiving day I got up early and cooked our meal. By 3 in the afternoon I was happily snoozing in a triptophan (it’s that chemical in meat that makes you sleepy) induced stupor; and for most of the weekend the family played at life. Your Thanksgiving was probably not very different from that; family, frivolity, food, food, food, shopping, shopping, shopping. I invite you to read what is below and then tell me: Was what we call Thanksgiving today what the congress envisioned back in 1777?

I cannot help but think that these gentlemen so many years ago had a better handle on human nature than we do and as a result had a better handle on how great God’s mercy and Christ’s sacrifice really are.

Read on in Peace.

IN CONGRESS
November 1, 1777

FORASMUCH as it is the indispensable Duty of all Men to adore the superintending Providence of Almighty God; to acknowledge with Gratitude their Obligation to him for Benefits received, and to implore such farther Blessings as they stand in Need of: And it having pleased him in his abundant Mercy, not only to continue to us the innumerable Bounties of his common Providence; but also to smile upon us in the Prosecution of a just and necessary War, for the Defense and Establishment of our unalienable Rights and Liberties; particularly in that he hath been pleased, in so great a Measure, to prosper the Means used for the Support of our Troops, and to crown our Arms with most signal success:

It is therefore recommended to the legislative or executive Powers of these UNITED STATES to set apart THURSDAY, the eighteenth Day of December next, for SOLEMN THANKSGIVING and PRAISE: That at one Time and with one Voice, the good People may express the grateful Feelings of their Hearts, and consecrate themselves to the Service of their Divine Benefactor; and that, together with their sincere Acknowledgments and Offerings, they may join the penitent Confession of their manifold Sins, whereby they had forfeited every Favor; and their humble and earnest Supplication that it may please GOD through the Merits of JESUS CHRIST, mercifully to forgive and blot them out of Remembrance; That it may please him graciously to afford his Blessing on the Governments of these States respectively, and prosper the public Council of the whole: To inspire our Commanders, both by Land and Sea, and all under them, with that Wisdom and Fortitude which may render them fit Instruments, under the Providence of Almighty GOD, to secure for these United States, the greatest of all human Blessings, INDEPENDENCE and PEACE: That it may please him, to prosper the Trade and Manufactures of the People, and the Labor of the Husbandman, that our Land may yield its Increase: To take Schools and Seminaries of Education, so necessary for cultivating the Principles of true Liberty, Virtue and Piety, under his nurturing Hand; and to prosper the Means of Religion, for the promotion and enlargement of that Kingdom, which consisteth "in Righteousness, Peace and Joy in the Holy Ghost."

And it is further recommended, That servile Labor, and such Recreation, as, though at other Times innocent, may be unbecoming the Purpose of this Appointment, be omitted on so solemn an Occasion.

Dear Winner of the 2006 general election:
Congratulations on your success, if that is what we might call it. Allow me to introduce myself: I am your boss; a holder of the highest office of the land: Citizen. Please, know that I came to that office not by accident of birth but by choice; choice made after a long, hard look at America from the inside.

I came to be a citizen after 20 years as an outsider, an “alien resident.” I came to be a citizen only after watching the principles of “Republic” work in the great state of North Dakota. Yes, it is cold up there and not too many folks live there but it is a place where government, the way Jefferson might well have dreamed of it, still has a possibility to exist.

You see, the state representatives and senators actually lived among the people. They had lunch at the truck stop just north of the intersection of U.S. highway 2 and N.D. highway 3; they had businesses in town; they drove mud caked pickup trucks like everyone else; they talked weather just like everyone else, and they never passed up a lutefisk supper if they were Lutherans, or a sausage and green cabbage supper if they were Catholic, and if they were ambitious they came to both. If they did, that made it difficult to figure out whether they were Lutheran or Catholic and that in turn made it tough to vote because in a pinch you voted for your own kind. But they lived life in full view of the people and they lived like the people. All the servants of the people did that. The judge who swore me in as a U.S. citizen was dressed in jeans and boots until time came to wear that black gown of his that made him look a lot like the Presbyterian pastor over in Towner.

You see, there is no getting elected to office, state or otherwise in North Dakota, unless the people can actually see you and know you, not from the TV but through real contact. They wanted to know that their elected folk were just as cold in the winter as they were. They learned the hard way that laws made in Washington that worked in all the other states of the union often failed to work at all in the Dakotas, starting with the original federal grant program that doled out land to the settlers. A section of land in Iowa or Nebraska earned you a living. A section of land in North Dakota earned you a hard year’s work during which your family starved. So my old North Dakota friends insist that it is their representative’s, senators’, and Governor’s job to protect them from even more nonsense piped into their counties and villages. They want to know that you understand them.

Coming to think of it: We haven’t met. I find that strange. Don’t you? I know, I had no money for your campaign when you sent me that form letter; I filled the propane tank instead. Winter is coming after all. I know, I hung up on your recorded message; I was in the middle of cleaning up after the cat; hairballs, we are seeing the vet tomorrow. So I really do not know you at all, which is sad.

I know: you were hoping that all your commercials that told me how bad your opponent was, would disgust me enough so that I would vote for the party I lean towards. You sure made a point of making that other candidate look like someone who lacked the sense not to park a full manure spreader outside of the barn in January. Coming to think of it: I am surprised that neither of you is in jail, or under court supervision, or at least under psychiatric care. So there you two stood. Both of you had reputation that smelled like Main Street in Mott, the afternoon of the annual 4th of July Buffalo Chip tossing competition. I think the governor actually was in the running to win the Chip Toss one year but then it started raining.

You see, as a North Dakotan, maybe not by birth but at heart, the only way I have to decide who to vote for, seeing that both of you did not show up anywhere I travel and neither of you seems worth a dried up piece of lefse, is by voting for the Lutheran. I don’t make the decision on that party line vote you were actually hoping for. But in case of your race, I did not even know who was what.

If either of you was Lutheran then you both really missed out on that discussion of the 8th commandment during confirmation. I am sure your pastor would have made at least some mention of it during a sermon or two. Coming to think of it, even the priest down at Little Flower Catholic Church, the priest that the bishop imported from Eastern Europe; I think his name was Mrnrvk - used to talk on the radio about telling truth and being graceful in speech. It would make you laugh when the pastor at Bethania Norwegian Lutheran had just gotten off the radio railing about the same thing, but then, they both took their morning coffee at the bakery next to Hank’s hardware and they always sat together and Rose, the state senator’s wife, would serve them their coffee.

You best do some brushing up on the 8th commandment and quick too. How, I ask you, can I trust you to do me a good job in Springfield, Columbus, and Washington if the only side of you that I really know is how nasty you can be in a fight for something you think you want? You see, we learn from North Dakota that what the politicos in Washington or even in Bismarck want usually has ever so little to do with us and we need you to keep us safe from them. How can I trust you to do that after you spent three month making all of us sick with your TV spots?

Down at the bakery, Rose would ask you if she could serve you and everyone knew what that meant: She knew if the coffee was fresh and she would make a new pot if it was not when you asked her for a fresh cup, and she would tell you honestly that you should not have that second pastry because you were busting the zipper on your Carthard jacket already. You could trust her because she would bring what you asked for. She was forthright in what she said, and she never thought it was necessary to tell anyone the dirt on Jeannie who served at the lunch counter. No one ever wondered about what was in their coffee, we did not have to. We trusted Rose and Jeannie.

With you I will always have to wonder. I do not know you, you keep your distance, and I only have seen your worst side: the side that approved that message about you opponent. Now, how can I keep from explaining your actions in an unkind way in the future? But then you missed that lesson on the 8th commandment and you may not know that Lutheran kind of struggle. I guess that distance and behavior of yours will lend itself to a lot of conspiracy theories, some about you, in the near future. I hope you got what you wanted. I wonder if I got what I needed.

There it is. Congratulations again on getting what you wanted. They will swear you in and you can go to work. I hope you will go to work for us. They will swear you in in January I think; make sure you park the manure spreader inside the barn before you leave, or at least leave keys in the tractor.

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