June 25 – Good News from Fox Hill

DIVERTED ATTENTION

1 Kings 19: 15-16,19-21                         Galatians 5: 1, 13-25                        

Luke 9: 51-62

        When the days drew near for Jesus to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; but they did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, "Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?" But Jesus turned and rebuked them. Then they went on to another village.

As they were going along the road, someone said to him, "I will follow you wherever you go." And Jesus said to him, "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." To another he said, "Follow me." But he said, "Lord, first let me go and bury my father." But Jesus said to him, "Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God." Another said, "I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home." Jesus said to him, "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God."

So, it is true that faith really matters here in Fox Hill, Wisconsin, my hometown.  That’s not to say that there hasn’t been much going on, there sure enough has.  But conversation has definitely been muted because people’s minds seem otherwise occupied; COVID-19 cases, stage 3 of businesses reopening, Black Lives Matter rallies, and violence in the streets.  Not necessarily here in Fox Hill, but it’s been a quiet week because it has been quite a week.

        There were a few chuckles when drivers passing through town noticed the signboard out in front of Our Lady of Desperate Hope Catholic Church.  Father Gary had come across these words on a picture link on his MyFace page and thought it would lighten things up in town if he put them on the church sign: “Honk if you love Jesus…Text while you’re driving if you want to meet him.”  But hardly anybody even noticed it.

        At Dan’s Diner, with the sign out front, “Breakfast, and Lunch and Dine Here,” a few of the bachelor farmers, when they gathered for a Leinenkugel beer, the beer with the name on it you can’t pronounce, were giving Olli Lunenberg a rough time because they had all noticed a wide gap of nothing planted in his corn field.  Rather than keeping precise, parallel rows, the corn plantings veered off at an angle.  “What, did the sun get in your eyes?”  “Maybe you’ve been planting after midnight?”  “Did that Burpee Seed hat fall down over your pinhead?” 

        No farmer worth his salt does such a wasting of field land like that!  Olli, trying to explain his obvious planting mistake, told the story of how he had seen a rare schroon bird land in his field, and it took him a while to identify it and then some more time to admire it.  Now, the Schroon is a cross between a screech owl and a loon, identifiable mostly by its annoyingly loud “CAW!” at 5 o’clock in the morning. And by the time he focused again on the planting, he’d realized he had steered off course.  Well, by now the corn is quite a bit higher than knee high by the fourth of July, so nobody can notice it anymore.  So, it was only a one-drink topic of conversation before they all returned to their inborn silent and stoic nature.

        Becky Martin, the youngest daughter of Judy and David Martin, he being the semi-retired pastor of the Fox Hill Lutheran Church, wasn’t talking to anybody because the whole world hated her and she hated the whole world.  And you know how that goes with teenaged daughters, whether justified or not, parents are always on the top of that list.  She had been angry that her Dad was lessening his role at the Lutheran Church pulpit during her senior year of High School.  He had passed the mantle, so to speak, like Elijah to Elisha, to a young, female student intern from New Jersey.  The new Vicar Lena would only be part time.  That was all the Lutheran Church could afford now, and that would take some getting used to.  The Martins had promised that they would stay in Fox Hill until Becky graduated, and probably longer than that. But that didn’t seem to satisfy their daughter.

        So Pastor and Judy just let her be.  She would stay out late at night and come home with the smell of alcohol on her breath; things that were not typical for Becky.  So they hoped it would just pass.  Becky’s dream was to be the valedictorian of the class of 2020 at Fox Hill High School and pursue her goal of becoming a veterinarian at Appleton College.  But she was also the second base player on the High School softball team and the Fox Hill Lady Walleyes were expected to go all the way to the Wisconsin state championship.  That meant extra practices and an extended season and less time to pay attention to her studies. And then the coronavirus put an end to all her hopes and dreams. She just gave up. And her final semester report card, based on online Zoom classrooms, announced the feared results: all Cs with but one B in chemistry.

        Two boys passed her in grade point average.  And then came the rejection letter from Appleton College.  She’d have to go to the State University at Eau Claire instead and get her act back together.  But when you’ve got no one to blame but yourself, you wind up blaming everybody.

        It’s hard to think when your head is spinning, and Pastor Martin realized how true that was for himself.  It wasn’t only his concern for Becky.  As he slowed down at the church, programs that were coming to an end even before the summer because of all the mandated quarantines seemed more like they were dying than taking a break.  The Sunday School, once the pride of Fox Hill Lutheran had diminished to a remnant handful.  The church council had a hard time just getting a quorum for regular monthly meetings on Zoom.  Church finances were in such a dangerous state that they could only help him with a part time person.  Offerings were way short of expenses and way behind last year.  On top of it all, Pastor Martin, while waiting for the new vicar to get to know people, was conducting at least one funeral every week.  What was going on?

        He wondered if that was why Jesus had said to the wanna-be disciple, “Let the dead bury their own dead.”?  The man had wanted to follow Jesus, but he had a few distractions he first had to attend to.  Pastor Martin always thought the words of Jesus to be rather harsh, but perhaps the point was that it was meant to be a gift of freedom from social expectations and responsibilities.  Then another had said to Jesus, “I will follow you, right after I say goodbye to my family.”  Could Jesus really mean it when he said that if you want to proclaim the Kingdom of God that has to be your one and only priority?  Not home, not family, not even death.  Not too much to do, not sports, not even schroon birds?  Even the coronavirus was teaching us that lesson. Jesus had said, “Anybody who puts a hand to the plow and looks back will wind up with a tough row to hoe.”  Well, he meant something like that.

        He realized that Becky wasn’t the only one.  We’re all so distracted, our attention so diverted, that we have lost touch with our priorities.  As true as that is for so many things in our lives, it’s true for our faith as well.  If we let the busyness and all the concerns of life distract us from living out our faith, we may just meet our Maker before we ever have the chance to serve our Maker, as Father Gary’s sign indicated.

        But Pastor Martin knew it was true for him too.  How much time and energy had he spent on distractions that drained his energy and attention?  It was time to refocus.  Not to relax in semi-retirement, but find a sense of refirement.  It was still time to proclaim the kingdom, not complain about the problems.

        When he prayed for the faithful people in the little church he had served as Pastor all these years, he marveled at how truly dedicated and devoted they really were.  When he thought about Becky, he beamed with a father’s glow with how proud he really was of her, in class and in sports.  At the High School graduation ceremonies on Friday night out on the football field with everybody practicing social distancing, Pastor Martin listened to the speeches of the salutatorian and valedictorian, but he realized that Becky’s life was a speech better than any words could express.  He looked out over the entire class of 2020 and, yes indeed, they were all exceptional.

        By golly, he was going to tell them – the congregation he had loved, and his daughter whom he loved – about how proud he really was of them.  Enough of all this bad news, enough of all these distractions.  It’s time to share some good news, time to get back to what is really important.  Isn’t that, after all, what Jesus came to tell us and the reason why he gave his life for us on the cross, and what our faith is all about?  And if we would all start to talk about these things, maybe it wouldn’t be so quiet after all in dear old Fox Hill.

        Olli put his hand on the screen door of Dan’s Diner, uncertain about going in again.  But there was a Leinenkugal Shandy with his name on it calling for him.  Sure enough, as soon as he entered there was a chorus of bird calls and caws.  Olli yelled, “Uf dah, put a lid on it, why doncha!”  You could hear a pin drop in that bar.

It was Lars Lundgren who broke the silence, “What have we done to you, Olli?  Take a chill pill. We’ve only been joking with you.  Hey, we’ve all done it; there’s not one man here who can plant a straight row, doncha know.”  The new waitress came over and gave him a beer, “Here, take this one, Olli, it’s on me.” 

“Who are you and when did Dan and Evelyn start hiring a waitress?” he asked.

“I’m Vicar Lena from New Jersey, the new part time helper at the Lutheran Church,” she answered.  Yes, it’s going to be very difficult adjustment for the Lutherans in Fox Hill!

“Thanks,” said Olli, “I appreciate it.  Let’s pray for some rain or else that corn won’t grow at all this summer.”

Just then, two cars driving through town honked their horns.  That was Good News; they were honking because they love Jesus. And the chatter of faithful souls returned to Fox Hill, where faith really matters for every single man, woman, and child; oh, and the married ones too. Amen.

June 18 - Good News from Fox Hill

A FIRM FOUNDATION

1 Peter 2: 2-10                                                                                                                   John 14: 1-14

Like newborn infants, long for the pure, spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation—if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good. Come to him, a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God’s sight, and like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For it stands in scripture:

 “See, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious;

 and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.”

To you then who believe, he is precious; but for those who do not believe,

 “The stone that the builders rejected has become the very head of the corner,”

And “A stone that makes them stumble, and a rock that makes them fall.”

They stumble because they disobey the word, as they were destined to do. But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.

So, it is true that faith really matters here in Fox Hill, Wisconsin, my hometown, the gateway to central Wisconsin.  It was particularly quiet on Friday evening.  There was no traffic on Main Street, no parties going on in any of the homes, and The Bijou, our $5 movie theater, was practically vacant.  It was the night of the Fox Hill High School prom and all the Juniors and Seniors, their chaperones, teachers and school administrators were at the Sons of Lombardi lodge in Appleton for the big event. The prom had been postponed from early May to Mid-June because of the coronavirus and the Lombardi hall in Appleton was the only place they could find large enough to accommodate about 25 couples, all dancing six feet apart. To enforce the rule, the PTA has fashioned caps with three foot swim sausages extending from the back and sides to keep the couple apart. Many of the parents had asked for a sausage on the front also to keep the couples six feet apart, but six feet is way more than the catholic nuns insisted as six inches to allow room for the Holy Spirit.

                Vicar Lena of the Fox Hill Lutheran Church however didn’t think it was all that quiet.  Her phone at the apartment kept ringing off the hook all night long with anxious parents, usually a Mom, complaining that they shouldn’t have held the prom so far away from home.  “Surely the fire hall in Fox Hill would have worked just as well.  If they had come up with a prom theme like “Hot Time in the City,” why then even the fire trucks could have served as realistic decorations.  But Appleton!  How are we going to be able to spy on our daughters and sons and make sure they don’t get into any trouble if they’re so far away?”

                Vicar Lena would offer words of reassuring comfort to calm them down, “They’re your children.  You taught them well.  They’ll follow your example.”  She wondered whether she should have included that last line, knowing some of the parents she had spoken to.  Then the minute she would hang up, the phone would ring with another hysterical mom.

                But perhaps the loudest noise that evening may have come from the back porch of David and Judy Martin’s home.  David, you might remember, has been taking more time off now that the church had a student intern after his lengthy pastorate.  He had taken up a hobby in semi-retirement, much to his wife Judy’s chagrin, of collecting individually different beer cans.  He had already gathered 1,186 different cans; not that he had done all the drinking. He would dumpster dive at rest areas or parking lots or picnic areas or anywhere there were garbage cans. And his brother in Florida served as an East coast extension to his hobby. The walls of his home office were already covered with shelves of cans and he had just told Judy that he was going to have to put up more shelves to display more new cans on her dining room walls.

                That’s when Judy blew her top.  And I know for a fact from my parents who live next door to the Martins that when Judy began yelling at her husband’s hair-brained idea, their dog started barking and woke all of the other sleeping dogs who, with the kids all gone to Appleton, had nothing better to do than to form a chorus of howling throughout the town.  After Judy calmed down, she conceded that if her husband wanted to continue collecting more cans, he would have to put up a shed in the backyard to hold them all.

                “A shed!” thought Pastor Martin, “what a great idea.  I could build a shed.”  Well, no, he couldn’t.  David Martin has always been a hard worker, but he doesn’t know his way around a lumber yard and he’s never used a power tool in his life.  He’s only sawed wood, drilled screws and hammered nails by hand.  So he gave Karl Krankshaw a call to see if he could give him some help on Saturday.

                David had bought a “Do-It-Yourself” kit from The Shed Man, kind of like IKEA, but no good Norwegian would ever buy anything from a Swedish company, dontcha know.  Karl arrived at the Martin home at 9AM. And David was ready to tear into the box and get to work building a shed.

                “Whoa!  Hold on, David,” said Karl, “You can’t build the shed until we have a proper, level foundation to put it on.  The sure foundation is the most important part of the project.  Or else, your shed would be crooked, the doors won’t close together, and within a few years, all your work would be in vain.”

                So, the first four and a half hours of the morning were spent in building a level foundation.  They went to Mabey’s Lumber and Gravel to get wood and screws.  Karl did all the figuring and ordering with the owner, Lars Mabey, himself.  David’s only contribution was to ask if they offered a guarantee policy.  Lars just stared at him and finally said, “At Mabey’s Lumber and Gravel we stand behind our good name.  Is it the best quality wood?  Will we replace anything that might be defective?  Mabey – that’s my name and I’m proud of it.

                Lars looked at Karl quizzically and asked, “Is this guy helping you?”  Karl admitted, “It’s actually his shed.”  “Good luck with that,” quipped Lars.

                Then Karl and David got to work framing the foundation to the exact dimensions of the shed, leveling its placement, digging out a little on one side and filling in a little on the other side, finally getting it in place and then putting a covering of plywood over the top.  The foundation was finally done and it had taken all morning long.

                For lunch, Karl and David went to Dan’s Diner and ordered a burger and a Leinenkugel Beer – the beer with the name on it you can’t pronounce.  Karl said, “That may have taken a while, David, but in the end you’ll be glad we put so much time and energy into such a fine foundation.  And six hours later, a well-constructed shed was sitting upon a firm and level foundation.

                Now Vicar Lena had heard about her predecessor’s work project and stopped by in the evening for a look-see.  Plus, she always appreciated having the wizened pastor as a supervisor and mentor.  So she would often visit for consultation and advice.  Today, I guess they call it “spiritual direction.”  But David Martin just thought of it a good, common sense.

                “Nice shed,” she said, “Looks like you and Karl did a fine job on it.”  David admitted, “I couldn’t have done it without him.  How do you like the foundation?”  “The what?” she asked.  And then he realized that, with the shed in place, no one could actually see the foundation.  The most important part would go unseen.

                Vicar Lena changed subjects, “The church is declining.  I’m afraid Fox Hill Lutheran Church may have to close if present trends continue.  Even before the virus hit, there are fewer children in Sunday School.  Most of the regular members were attending once a month instead of every week.  We never knew who was going to show up for the choir anthem.  Church just doesn’t seem to be a priority in the lives of people anymore.”

                Pastor Martin didn’t know what to say, “I wish I knew how to help.  But it’s not you, Lena, or me for that matter.  You’re going to be a better pastor and a far better preacher than I ever was.  And it’s happening in every church and in every denomination.”  Then suddenly an inspiration hit him, “I think the problem is that families no longer have the time and energy and effort to provide a firm foundation of faith in Jesus Christ for themselves and for their children.  It’s like they spend all their time on the walls of a shed – good grades in school, participating in sports, engaging in the arts, being good citizens – but provide no foundation of faith to hold it level and firm.  And then they’re surprised and angry when the whole thing seems to fall apart.  It’s like the apostle wrote in 1 Peter: Christ is the cornerstone, chosen and precious, and all the faithful will not be put to shame.”

                Vicar Lena was quite impressed, ”OK, then help me with this one also.  I have a baptism at church tomorrow for a couple I’ve never heard of before.  They don’t even live around here.  They’re coming up from Milwaukee just to have their baby baptized at Fox Hill Lutheran Church.  I just don’t get it!”

                “Oh, I do,” said the old pastor, “I know them.  I baptized and confirmed the mother here at Fox Hill Lutheran many years ago.  And I went down to the city to marry the two of them.  They’re coming back to Fox Hill Lutheran Church because this is where her family put in the time and commitment to provide for her a firm foundation of faith in Jesus Christ.  And I’m confident that she’ll do the same for her child.”

                Vicar Lena returned to her apartment thinking, “I don’t know how he does it, but he always seems to say just the right thing.”  The light was flashing on her answering machine.  She pressed the button to hear the voice of one of the distressed mothers from Friday night, “I wanted to call to thank you, Vicar Lena, for your comforting words when I was freaking out about my daughter being so far away at the prom.  It seems I was upset over nothing.  She had a great time and everything went smoothly.  I guess you were right about trusting in the foundation of faith we provided for her.  Somehow you always seem to say the right thing.  Thanks again, and God bless you.”

                Well, the next time I go back home to Fox Hill, I’ll have to check out Pastor Martin’s shed, and his beer can collection, and thank God for my family and all the people of Fox Hill Lutheran Church who helped build for me a sure foundation of faith in Jesus Christ.

                And that’s the Good News from Fox Hill, where faith really matters for every single man, woman, and child; oh, and the married ones too. AMEN.

The Fifth Sunday of Easter

May 14, 2017

The Good News from Fox Hill - June 11, 2020

The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost

1 Kings 19: 4-8                                                                   Ephesians 4: 25—5:2                                       John 6: 35, 41-51

Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, "I am the bread that came down from heaven." They were saying, "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, 'I have come down from heaven'?" Jesus answered them, "Do not complain among yourselves. No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. It is written in the prophets, 'And they shall all be taught by God.' Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me. Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father. Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh."

FREE MEAL

So, it is true that faith really matters here in Fox Hill, Wisconsin, my hometown. Here, in the upper Midwest, the weekends are especially quiet in the summertime when everyone in town heads out to their camp around Lake Madsen. And once they’re settled in at camp, there’s nothing that will lure a fisherman away from his dream hooking of a walleye. So the quietest place on a Sunday morning is Fox Hill Lutheran Church. On a beautiful summer Sunday you could shoot a cannon through the pews of the church and not hurt a soul.

The Lutheran Church has a new summer intern to work with Pastor Martin. She is a third year student from the seminary in Gettysburg, PA. They give the title “Vicar” to a student intern. Vicar Lena hails from that part of New Jersey where a tornado would cause one million dollars’ worth of improvements. She has no experience of the traditions and habits of the folks from Packer Country. She can’t understand how the church can be so empty. Pastor Martin has tried to explain to her that the city folk from Milwaukee try to flee the hustle and bustle and the locals from Fox Hill try to flee the gossip and keen eyes of their neighbors. The lake camp is their refuge and escape.

But Vicar Lena has all sorts of ideas to try to bring them all back to town for Sunday worship. “How about an outdoor picnic service?” she asked her supervisor. “How about a hymn sing?” Last Saturday, she tried an evening service at the lakefront park, singing camp songs with her guitar, and only a vacationing pastor and his wife from Pewaukee attended. Then she put up a sign on the front lawn of the church advertising “FREE meal every Sunday morning.”  Maybe people would think it clever and come on in.

                She knew that once a week, during the bitter Wisconsin winters, the people of Fox Hill Lutheran were known for their free, hot dinner every Tuesday night for the community. They would set up the tables in the church hall and then a rotation of community organizations would provide the hot dish. Our Lady of Desperate Hope Roman Catholic Church would provide spaghetti, of course. The Community Youth Group would provide a tater tot and ground beef casserole with a jello salad.  The Grange would cook up Swedish meatballs. An average of 150 would attend, except when the Viking Lodge brought lutefisk in white sauce.

Last Sunday, after spending the night on a park bench in Millett (which if you know Millett you know that is luxurious accommodations!) anyway – Chad Gabriel Ortega had already hiked seven miles when he arrived in Fox Hill at about the time worship had started at the Lutheran Church.  He was hungry and thirsty and the sign out front offering a free meal seemed like a sign from God.  God had been miraculously providing for him all during his crusade to raise up soldiers for Jesus from the Midwest to travel with him to Israel to fight the final eschatological battle of Armageddon verses Satan and his demons.

                I think Chad had a few demons of his own to deal with. He sat down in the last pew, usually occupied by good Lutherans, as Vicar Lena began her sermon, figuring this must be like the Salvation Army where you get fed a sermon before you get fed a meal.

                Vicar Lena was still in a funky mood.  All her creative evangelism efforts weren’t working, except for this one suspicious looking and sounding stranger.  The few in the pews all turned their heads to stare at him.  Plus, now, just beginning her ministry, she was going through the lectionary readings, dealing with a month of Sundays on the Gospel of John, chapter 6.  I mean, how much more could she say about the feeding of the 5,000?  Especially when hardly anyone was there to be fed.  For her, it was more like the feeding of the 15, and that didn’t seem like much of a miracle. Why, her mother in New Jersey did that every Sunday!

                In her mind it was inconceivable that people could go a whole week without being nourished at the table of the Lord.  Corporate worship is that unique opportunity to be fed both by the Word of God in song, scripture, sermon and prayer; and fed by the Word of God in bread and wine, the very presence of Jesus in flesh and blood.  We call it Holy Communion because we commune with Jesus and with one another in community.  In the sharing of bread and wine, Jesus promises to be with us and to feed us just as he miraculously fed the 5,000.  Joel Osteen or Joyce Meyer don’t do that on your TV screen.  You can’t do that isolated at your summer camp.  It is the essence of what it means to be the church.

                There have been times when she has come this close to giving up, feeling that all her study to be a pastor was to no avail.  But, even as she preached that Elisha miraculously fed 100 and Elijah had the choice to give up and die or to get up and eat, so she wasn’t about to give up and she surely didn’t want to die.  So she would continue to get up and eat and to live in the promise of the living bread from heaven.

                So also thought Peter (Chad Gabriel Ortega went by the name of Peter because he believed it to be a holy name.  Peter was a disciple’s name.  There was no disciple named Chad or Gabriel, even though that was at least an angel’s name. And he kind of liked the name of Peter Gabriel. He liked his music and, well, who doesn’t), “I have also come close to giving up and dying.  And now, I really need something to eat.”

                People began to stand up and form something like a serving line, so he got up and joined them.  Kneeling with the others at the altar railing, he was disappointed to get a small wafer of bread placed in his hands and a tiny shot glass of wine.  But then he thought, “Ah, appetizers!  Cool.”  But just then everybody got up, went back to their seats, sang a hymn and then they were done.

                Following the others out down the center aisle, he was greeted by Pastor Martin and Vicar Lena.  “Hello,” he said, “You can call me Peter.  I came for the free meal.”

                “Yes,” laughed Vicar Lena, thinking he got the joke, “Thank you for joining us today.”

                Peter stared at her for an uncomfortable moment and finally broke the silence, “So, when do we eat?  I’m starving.”

                “Oh, no,” replied Vicar Lena, ‘The bread and the wine, that’s the meal of Holy Communion which Jesus gives to us freely by his grace and love.  It’s not food for the stomach that fails after a few hours and then you’re hungry again.  It’s food for your soul.  Jesus is the living bread that comes down from heaven.  When we eat his body, that is the bread, and drink his blood, that is the wine, we are fed for eternal life.  That’s why we gather every Sunday to share this holy meal.

                Vicar Lena quickly realized how disappointed Peter seemed.  While feeding the soul is done every Sunday at Fox Hill Lutheran Church, she knew that feeding the body was ministry also.  In the summer, at Noon every Tuesday the church serves hot dogs and macaroni and cheese to the poor children in town who have no camp to go to.

                “Come on downstairs with me, Peter,” invited Vicar Lena, “we can whip you up some macaroni and cheese.”  From the dozen of boxes on the counter Pastor Lena grabbed one and mixed up the ingredients and cooked it in the microwave.  Peter ate until he was stuffed and Vicar Lena joined him in the meal.  And there was still plenty left over.  The young Vicar then realized that she had just witnessed a true miracle of divine providence.  She only wished 5,000 people could have witnessed it as well, instead of just she and Peter.

                Refreshed and full, Peter got up to leave and continue his journey.  Vicar Lena refused his invitation to go to Israel with him, saying she would take her chances with the end times, staying right there in Fox Hill.  This time Peter shook Vicar Lena’s hand gratefully and said, “I’m really glad your sign out front wasn’t lying.  Thanks for the free meal – both of them.”

                And that’s the Good News from Fox Hill, where faith really matters for every single man, woman, and child; oh, and the married ones too. AMEN.

Rev. James Slater

Emanuel and St. Luke’s Lutheran Churches

Stuyvesant Falls and Valatie, NY

August 9, 2015

Good News at Noon from Good Sam - June 4, 2020
WORDS OF FORGIVENESS
Acts 4: 8-12 1 John 1:1—2:2 Luke 24: 36-49
We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life — this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us — we declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. We are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.
This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in God there is no darkness at all. When we say that we have fellowship with God while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true; but when we walk in the light as God indeed is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, God’s Son, cleanses us from all sin. When we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. When we confess our sins, the One who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. When we say that we have not sinned, we make God a liar, and the word is not in us.
My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.
So, it is true that faith really matters here in Fox Hill, Wisconsin, my hometown. It’s been really quiet this past week and that’s pretty much how everyone wants it to be just about now – quiet, slow, all right, downright depressing.
The days have reflected the mood of my Wisconsin folk, rather dark and drizzly. After the winter we’ve had in Wisconsin, it takes pretty much one solid week of sunshine for it to really feel like Spring. And if that doesn’t happen, Spring is only a dream to be hoped for but never grasped and that is a depressing reality. The months of April and May can be that way sometimes. Little Trina Nordstrom, with all the enthusiasm of a ten year old, tried to make things better. She skipped through town singing, “April showers bring May flowers!” Such youthful optimism; until she ran into her great uncle George Nordstrom, one of our Scandinavian bachelor farmers; not the jolliest of species in Fox Hill. “Ah, Tina,” he retorted, “but dontcha know what May flowers bring?” She had heard this joke before, so she was ready for it, “Pilgrims!” she shouted with delight. “Nonsense!” her great uncle snapped back, it’s allergies.”
I think my hometown is one of the few places that goes out of its way to even depress a ten year old. Even a solid week of sunshine is going to have its work cut out for it. Even Easter this year didn’t work. It was poorly planned: too early in the month to get its point across and people just weren’t in the mood. It takes a lot more than candles and lilies and stained glass windows to make Easter special. Any meager Alleluias at Fox Hill Lutheran Church kind of lacked gumption.
Speaking of a lack of gumption, Pastor David Martin, pastor of Fox Hill Lutheran Church, received a phone call from Lyle Bartlett at the post office. “I thought I ought to let you know that the church hasn’t paid its box rent for the year yet,” Lyle firmly declared. “Oh my,” replied Pastor Martin, “I’ll speak with Mel Nelson immediately (He’s the treasurer of the church council, dontcha know) to straighten this out.” It seemed to the pastor a rather minor matter.
But Lyle wouldn’t back down, “You don’t think I’m making this up, do you? I ain’t no liar!”
“No, of course not, Mr. Bartlett,” countered the pastor, “It’s just that…”
“I got it right before my eyes in black and white,” Lyle ranted on, “and ain’t nothing written in for Fox Hill Lutheran Church. Now I don’t normally have any difficulty extending credit to the church, but I’ve got to see to the business of the United States Postal Service too, dontcha know!” (Serving in the 23rd Unit of the Postal Service, APO, NY during World War II had made Mr. Bartlett quite the patriot.) “And you would think,” he continued, ”the church would want to set a good example for the rest of the community and not shirk its responsibilities like everybody else does.” Pastor Martin felt like his head was being bitten off by a wild dog.
“I said I would check into it!” Pastor Martin slammed down the phone. While the days may be getting longer, people’s nerves are getting shorter around Fox Hill.
Dale Colburn had gotten to the end of his with his kids. The Colburn twins, Diane and Denise, both just turned 14, had friends over for what Dale kept calling “a pajama party.” And the twins kept responding, “Oh, Dad!” When he and his wife, Debbie, sent the girls to bed at midnight, he figured they had survived it all fairly well. At 2:00am. he awoke, thinking he had to go to the bathroom, only to realize it was really the chatter and laughing at the other end of the house which woke him. Storming down the hall, he prepared his speech that there is a difference between and over night and an all-nighter, and they had school the next day and they all had better get to sleep. The clanging of cans startled both him and the girls as he swung open the door. And there he found beer cans. The twins were in shock as was Dale. “You’re grounded,” was all he could get out, no – allow out of his mouth.
The next morning Diane and Denise tried all the “I’m sorrys” and “We’ll never do it agains” in their repertoire, but Dale was unmoved. Beyond disappointed, was devastated.
It was a bird that had devastated Judy Martin, the pastor’s wife. A robin – a dead robin. She had been watching for robins for as long as she thought it should be Spring. And it’s not that she didn’t see any, but it had become a compulsion for her – like Spring’s arrival was dependent upon her seeing and counting every robin there was and she hadn’t yet reached the magic number, when she came upon the dead one in her front yard. Might that very one have been the last one she needed? And now, there would be no Spring! Had she somehow failed? If she had seen the robin just the day before might it still be alive today? Was she somehow responsible for its death? Had she, by her inattention and neglect, harmed another living creature and upset the balance of nature? Had she single handedly brought about the death of unborn Spring?
Her husband had little sympathy for her philosophical plight. He had been ministering to the Anderson family all Tuesday night as they posted vigil at the bedside of 104 year old Mabel Anderson, the family matriarch. Just about at the time that Dale Colburn was at a loss for words of his twins’ behavior, Pastor Martin didn’t quite know what to say at Mabel’s last labored breath. He led the family in a recitation of the 23rd Psalm and felt the experience of walking through the valley of the shadow of death. But the valley was a little longer than he expected. Each Anderson family member, by then in tears, began to recount all the things he or she had ever done to offend or injure Auntie Mabel, as if taking back that event or remark would carry her beyond her 104 years. At Friday’s funeral service, he preached about her long and gracious life. And while everybody seemed to appreciate it, he knew he had missed the mark and didn’t really answer the concerns of their own guilt, grief and loss.
Canceled check in hand, Pastor Martin marched to the Post Office on Saturday morning. Here was proof that the church had paid the box rent and he would demand an apology from Mr. Bartlett. Confronted with indisputable evidence, Mr. Bartlett whimpered like a little puppy, “I am so sorry. It must have been a bookkeeping error, not that it’s any excuse.” “Oh, that’s OK,” said the Pastor.
Lyle continued, “How could I have possibly doubted the goodness and punctuality of the church? Can you ever forgive me?”
“Forget about it,” replied Pastor Martin.
“How can I forget?” continued Lyle, “I accused you. I insulted you. I know how angry I was and I know that’s a sin.”
“it’s all right,” assured Pastor Martin, “It was an honest mistake.”
“I take full responsibility for this,” asserted Lyle, “I personally will see to it that this never happens again. I’m so embarrassed. I’m so ashamed. I’m so sorry.”
Again, at a loss for words, and reacting only out of divine call, Pastor Martin quieted Lyle down, looked him in the eye and spoke in full authority, “Mr. Bartlett, I forgive you.” And quite suddenly, Lyle smiled a smile of gratitude. Never before had Pastor Martin felt so… well, pastoral.
But, the feeling soon passed. All of this helps to explain why it was that on Sunday morning at 10:15am. at the start of the worship service, the Pastor stood before the people of Fox Hill Lutheran with no sermon prepared: a pastor’s ultimate fear of being at a loss for words. Not that he was scared about it. The Lutherans in Fox Hill have never expected a doctoral dissertation or a dramatic presentation from the weekly sermon and many times Pastor Martin has sounded ill-prepared, even when he wasn’t. He has preached sermons before when he had absolutely no idea himself what he was talking about. He would certainly be able to do that again.
Maybe he would preach on the Epistle lesson from 1 John: My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world. Because he did feel guilty, guilty that he hadn’t done his whole job. Guilty that he had failed in his responsibility. He had been awfully busy (it’s not like Sunday is his only day of work!) but that, he admitted, was no excuse. Standing before the Fox Hill congregation, he led them in the service of confession. There sat George Nordstrom with a scowl that could depress a ten year old. There sat the Colburn twins like fallen angels doing perfect penance next to a disappointed father. There sat the Anderson family, filling two entire pews, still sobbing, unwilling to let go of their grief. There sat his own wife, the robin killer, the murderer of Spring. And there he stood, the unprepared pastor, speaking, “When we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. But whenever we confess our sins, God who is faithful and just, will forgive our sins.”
As they all knelt for silent, personal confession, Pastor Martin’s conscience screamed out, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! What can I do for you all to forgive me?”
Pastor Martin rose to address the congregation with words of absolution, but it was not their pastor standing before the people of Fox Hill Lutheran. He was really still with them, still kneeling in confession when he spoke these words: “Almighty God, in divine mercy, has given Jesus to die for us and, for his sake, forgives us all our sins. As a called and ordained minister of the Church of Jesus Christ and by his authority, I declare to you the entire forgiveness of all your sins.” Forgives us ALL, our sins. Forgives us, ALL our sins.
And he looked up and there stood Kyle Bartlett, still smiling, and a gracious smile cracked the penitential lips of Pastor Martin; and rays of warm, Spring sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows of Fox Hill Lutheran Church.
And that’s the Good News from Fox Hill, Wisconsin, where faith really matters for every single man, woman, and child; oh, and the married ones too. Amen.