Bike Ride - A Metaphor

BIKE RIDE: A METAPHOR

 

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost – August 11, 2013

Genesis 15: 1-6

Hebrews 11: 1-3, 8-16

Luke 12: 32-40

 

                Well, it has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, my hometown.  Pastor Liz needed some peace and quiet, some rest and rehabilitation yesterday.  Her legs felt like jello and she was afraid that if she stayed on them any longer she would melt into a puddle of goo.  What she really wanted was to hop into a hot tub and turn up the heat and turn on the jets and soak her aching body.  But people in central Minnesota don’t take to hot tubs, and certainly not Lutheran pastors.  She knew of a couple of Norwegian bachelor farmers who had saunas, but that wouldn’t be appropriate for her to ask to use them.  So her own tub, with Epson slats and maybe a lavender bubble bath would have to do.

                She had just biked 16 miles in a 14 mile fund raising event sponsored by Karen Warnecke and Chrissy Soderberg.  They were holding a walk, run or bike event to raise money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society to fund research for a cure and assistance for those in need.  Now Pastor Liz enjoyed biking, but she wasn’t a biker, if you know what I mean.  Other participants arrived in tight, spandex short and tops with cycle machines that put her 3-speed to shame.  And Pastor Liz isn’t particularly athletic.  Oh, she likes to keep in shape.  She often walks the stairs when she visits in the hospitals in St. Cloud or Bimidji, but most of the time she spends sitting at her desk.  What she is is a bit more on the dramatic side; isn’t every Lutheran pastor?  And part of the experience of the event was a murder mystery.  Clues to the mystery were posted along the route and when all and returned they would act out their parts, decipher the clues, and attempt to figure out “who done it.”  Karen and Chrissy knew that Pastor Liz could enliven the participation so they urged her to sign up.  There was a 50 mile bike route or a 14 mile one.  Pastor Liz knew that even 14 miles would be a stretch for her.

                Runners, walkers and bikers were given directions for the course and instructions for their roles, and they were ready to go.  Pastor Liz started a little bit before everybody else because she figured she would be the slowest and everyone would be passing her.  So, starting at Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church, the course took her along back roads to the village of Millett, then around the lake and back into Lake Wobegon.  It was a beautiful, crisp Saturday morning.  The scenery was spectacular.  You can see so much more, moving as slow as she was on her bike, than she could by speeding through in her car.  She had traveled all these roads before, but had never really seen what they had to offer.  On her way into Millett, a six-point buck came out of the bushes and stood in the middle of the road, staring at her, until she got too close and then he darted back under the cover.

                She followed the directions precisely and was quite pleased with herself that she was doing so well.  By mile 13 there were still two bikers behind her.  But coming into town, she was surprised that the directions didn’t seem to take her onto the road the church was on.  Instead she turned in the opposite direction, making a big loop around town which she just assumed added the necessary miles to the course.  When she finally arrived at the church, they were all waiting and cheering for her.  She was the last to arrive!  In fact, they had even sent out a rescue vehicle to look for her.  She had made a mistake and turned left when she should have turned right and her 14 mile course became 16 miles!  That was kind of embarrassing, but all had reached their final destination safe and sound.

                And although her role in the murder mystery made her look very suspicious as the villain, she was one of only three who correctly identifying the culprit as the leader of the local Sons of Knute lodge.

                The two and a half hours on the bike gave her a chance to reflect.  Life is like a journey; it’s like a bike ride.  We all know what the goal is and what the final destination is, but we have no clue how to get there or what will happen along the way.  We may have printed directions, like the Bible itself, but that doesn’t mean we completely understand what they mean, or we make mistakes and choose to turn in the wrong direction.  Some people just take a little longer than others to get there.  And we may have instructions for the role we are supposed to play in life, but every other person’s role affects you and changes your perspective.  This bike ride was like a metaphor for life!

                Imagine Abraham, called by God to leave his home and family and travel to a new destination.  All he knew was that he was going to a place promised to him by God.  He didn’t know where it was; he didn’t know how to get there; and he had no clue what would happen along the way.  All he had was faith, trusting in a God of whom he believed would never lead him astray; and if he turned in the wrong direction, would turn him back with forgiveness, with mercy and love, and with a new direction.

                She thought about some of the twists and turns in her own life.  Who would have ever imagined that a young woman from New Jersey would wind up serving a Norwegian Lutheran congregation in central Minnesota!  Sometimes God’s plans seem to unfold with a certain degree of humor.  Or was Lake Wobegon a matter of her turning in the wrong direction?  Following a pastor who had been in the pulpit for 35 years may not have been such a smart idea.  We never really know, do we?  We only trust in faith that God will lead us in the right direction or lead us back to the right direction.

                After a good, long soak, Pastor Liz climbed out of the tub and toweled herself dry when the telephone rang.  It was Judy Engqvist, wife of the former pastor of Lake Wobegon Lutheran, now retired.  The two women had become fast friends, working together in what they called the 4Ls, League of Lutheran Ladies by the Lake, attending daughters of Norway meetings, and lunching together at the Norske Nook.

                Judy was in uncontrollable laughter at the other end of the line.  “Liz, you’ll never guess what happened to us.”  Liz asked, “Who is ‘us’ and where are you?”

                I’m in New York with my sister for a convention in Hudson, that’s Hudson, New York, not Hudson, Wisconsin.  It’s a little city right on the Hudson River.  We flew into Albany and rented a car.  The directions we were given said to take the New York State Thruway south to the Catskill exit and cross over the river on the Rip Van Winkle Bridge.  Isn’t that cute?  But anyway, my sister and I were talking and laughing so much, we felt like Thelma and Louise!  The next thing we know, we’re going through some toll booths.  My sister said, “I don’t know where the heck we are!”  Although she didn’t say ‘heck.’  And I suggested that we had better get off at the next exit.  Well do you know what?  The next exit is New Jersey!  We’re in New Jersey, so I thought of you and wanted to give you a call.  I think we’re going to be late for our meeting.  I hope they forgive us, but we have had absolutely the best sister time ever.”

                Pastor Liz hung up the phone and thought, “Yes, even wrong directions can sometimes turn out for the best.”

                Jesus said to his disciples, “Have no fear, little flock, for it is the Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”  What a promise!  That’s our future destination.  That’s our final destination.  And God will see that we get there no matter how many wrong turns we make.  Have no fear; just enjoy the ride.

                Maybe that’s why the first disciples, before they were ever called Christians, were called ‘Followers of the Way,’ because life is a journey and faith is the only road map.  Jesus said, “You know the way where I am going.”  But Thomas said, “Lord, we do not know where you are going.  How can we know the way?”  Jesus replied, “I am the Way and the Truth and the Life.  No one comes to the Father but by me.”

                Like Abraham who didn’t know where he was going and trusted in God; like Job who couldn’t understand why all these bad things were happening to him but still trusted in God; like wise men from the East who followed a star and trusted in God for revelation, we trust in Jesus and follow the way that he sets before us in his life, death and resurrection.

                As for Pastor Liz, she wasn’t about to go anywhere else.  Her legs, her bike, her desire had gone about as far as she was going to go for now.  But tomorrow she would continue in the journey of a new day and proclaim the One who is the Way, the Truth and the Life to her flock at Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church, helping them to find the way to their final destination.

 

And that’s the news from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.  AMEN.

A Warm Up Visit

A WARM UP VISIT

 

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost – July 7, 2013

Isaiah 66: 10-14

Galatians 6: 1-16

Luke 10: 1-11, 16-20

 

                Well, it has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, my hometown.  The streets and houses all seem to be deserted.  There’s still traffic on Main Street, but no one ever stops.  It’s summer people, travelling from the twin cities to their headwaters camp in northern Minnesota.  They don’t even blink an eye when they pass through Lake Wobegon.  They think Bud’s prices for gas at the Sinclair station are way too high, but Bud has to pay a hefty price to get the gas delivered.  They’re all in too much of a hurry to stop at Bertha’s Bagel and Brew; where you can get a bagel and coffee for breakfast, a bagel and root beer for lunch, and a bagel and a Wendy’s beer for dinner.  So Bertha has threatened to move her shop to St. Cloud.  That would be just another on the long list of businesses that have either left town for greener pastures or just gone under.

                There aren’t many Lake Wobegonians left in town either.  With the Fourth of July holiday in the middle of the week, folks took the whole week off and headed for their camps along the lake where it’s just a little bit cooler than the pavement and sidewalks in town.  Yes, it does get hot in central Minnesota.  They say we have two seasons: winter, from September to May when it’s not unusual to have consecutive weeks of temperatures below 0 degrees; and road construction season, June through August, when 90 degree temperatures and 90% humidity will melt the winter fat out your pores like Minnehaha Falls.

                Clarence Bunson, out at his camp on the lake, cranked up the radio when he heard “Hot town, summer in the city,” thinking John Sebastian must have visited Lake Wobegon  when he wrote that.  And he pretended that he felt a little bit cooler, even though there was no breeze coming off the lake.

                Those left in town weren’t opening their doors or coming out of their homes, and it wasn’t just because they had their air conditioners pumping away.  Telephones were ringing all around town as the rumor spread that the JWs were canvassing, you know – the Jehovah’s Witnesses, going from house to house, knocking on doors or ringing door bells.  Or maybe it was the Mormons?  They couldn’t tell them apart.  In any case, the German Catholics of Our Lady of Perpetual Responsibility and the Norwegian Lutherans of Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church were in united cooperation of pretending they weren’t home.

                But the visitors were never fooled.  They could hear the conversations behind closed doors.  Mothers would yell at their children, “Don’t open the door!”  Kids would ask, “Why not?”  Mothers would answer, “Because they are proselytizers.”  Kids would say, “What’s that?”  Mothers would answer, “They are a threat to our religion.”  Kids would say, “But we never even go to church.”  Mothers would say, “If we don’t answer, they’ll eventually leave.”

                And so it went on.  It sure was quiet in Lake Wobegon.

                David Engqvist is now retired three years from his 38 year tenure as the pastor at Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church.  He and his wife, Judy, still live in town, but he tries not to interfere much with the ministry of the new pastor, Pastor Liz, a young (oh, oh) woman (boo) from New Jersey (oh God!).  He’s filled in for her when she’s away on vacation, but mostly he lets her make her own mistakes, learning the way he did from his.

                Pastor Engqvist always wanted someone to coming knocking at his door, but in all that time it never happened.  It was as if the proselytizers knew the field of Lake Wobegon wasn’t ripe for the harvest, even though there was a lot of white on the top of the stalks, doncha know.  But now, that rumored couple was coming up his sidewalk and about to ring his door bell.

                Pastor Engqvist opened his front door and was surprised to see Al and Jean Swanson standing there.  He remembered when Al and Jean joined Lake Wobegon Lutheran about four years ago.  They were both recently retired and moved to Lake Wobegon to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.  No one ever told him they had become Jehovah’s Witnesses.

                “Why, Pastor Engqvist!” said Al, “We didn’t know this is where you and Mrs. Engqvist lived.  Well, I guess we don’t need to share much with you.”

                But the pastor was hoping they would stay and talk.  He had prepared for this moment for so long.  His plan was to first invite them to pray together, because Jehovah’s Witnesses aren’t allowed to pray with heathens.  Pastor Engqvist remembered his youth in the Wisconsin Synod of the Lutheran Church when he had been taught to never recite the Lord’s Prayer in public because even some who called themselves Lutheran weren’t truly-believing Lutherans.  So they would have to explain why they couldn’t pray together and he would be ready for that.  Then, using his limited memory of Biblical Hebrew, he would explain how there really was no such word as ‘Jehovah’; that it was a trans-scripted combination of the consonants of the name of ‘Yahweh’ and the vowel points of the word ‘Adonai,’ reminding faithful Jews not to pronounce the divine name, but read ‘Lord God’ instead.  That would shock them.  Then he would counter their dark, apocalyptic theology of the sinful world and God’s final destruction with the good news of the love and forgiveness of Jesus and the promise of eternal life to all.

                “Please, come inside.  I will pour you a cup of coffee and we’ll talk,” invited Pastor Engqvist.  “Oh, no coffee for us,” said Jean.  “That’s right!” thought David, “They probably don’t do caffeine.”  “It’s too hot for coffee,” Jean continued, “How about some lemonade?”

                While Pastor Engqvist poured three lemonades, Al began his well-rehearsed speech, “As you know, we are going from house to house in Lake Wobegon…”  “Oh, yes,” Pastor Engqvist interrupted, “Word is getting around that the Jehovah’s Witnesses are in town.”

                Al and Jean looked at each other and nervously chuckled, “Jehovah’s Witnesses?  No, we’re from Lake Wobegon Lutheran.  You know that.”

                “Then why this door to door thing?” asked the perplexed pastor.  “Lutherans don’t do that kind of thing!”

                Al then explained, “Pastor Liz shared with our Bible study group the Gospel story of Jesus sending out the seventy in pairs to spread the message of Jesus, and she thought that we could try that right here in Lake Wobegon.  She was hoping that 70 people would come to her training session, but Jean and I were the only ones to show up.  But we still wanted to do it, even if by ourselves, because we’ve always been, well, impressed with folks like the Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Mormons who are so convicted about their beliefs and who follow the Biblical example that Jesus himself offered.”

                Now Pastor Engqvist was curious, “But why do that in Lake Wobegon where everybody is already either Lutheran or Catholic, or those Sanctified Brethren in the barn outside of town and none of them are going to change?”

                “First,” said Al, “It’s not about proselytizing and conversion.  It’s about invitation and offering help to meet the needs in our community.  We’re really proud of our little church.  You established a long-lasting foundation of faithfulness and now Pastor Liz is challenging us with some new ideas and new ways of doing things.  It’s really quite exciting to be part of Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church.  Pastor Liz described this as more of a survey to find out what people are looking for from our church and how we can meet their needs and concerns.  She calls it ‘Together to Gather.’  Pretty clever, isn’t it?”

                “And second,” added Jean, “More and more people, even in Lake Wobegon, don’t have any church connection at all.  And we want people to know that Jesus and Lake Wobegon Lutheran cares about them too.  But it sure is hard to share the word when no one is home.”

                “Oh, they’re home,” said Pastor Engqvist, “Just give me a chance to make a few phone calls and I think you’’ see more doors being opened unto you.”

                And with that hope, Al and Jean went on to the next house.

                “Maybe Liz is right,” thought the old pastor, “It’s a different world out there today.  We could all learn a lesson, not from the door-knockers and bell-pushers, but from Jesus to be missionaries of invitation and assistance to those who strayed from the path.”

                As David cranked up his air conditioner, he yelled across the room to his wife, Judy, “It seems like things might start to heat up around here!”

 

And that’s the news from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.  AMEN.