Helleren

At Jøssingfjørd in Norway, there is a place where a few houses are comfortably tucked under a strangely shaped cliff. In Norwegian, the word "helleren" is used to describe this formation of rock, and so this place bears the same name. People think these houses are about 200 years old, but there has been some study of this site and it is believed that there is evidence of human habitation going back 7,000 to 8,000 years. And why not live in a place like that? You don't have to spend much time repairing your roof! The houses are now a museum that visitors can go into. You are welcome to sign a guest book, and there are displays that help visitors know more about the site. The living quarters are small, even to Norwegian standards.

If you're ever on the south coast of Norway, you can spend a little time in Jøssingfjørd. You can learn about the sinking of the German ship "Altmark" by the British, and think about the rusting hulk at the bottom of the fjørd. As you continue on the road, you'll probably get the impression that the road is very very narrow, and you'll realize that you're far above the water in just a few moments, thanks to a lot of hairpin curves, with a tunnel or two thrown in.

Gustav Vigeland

Near downtown Oslo there is an expansive park, filled with sculptures done by one man, Gustav Vigeland. I think all the human sculptures are nudes, and they are depicting any human emotion imaginable. Some sculptures are solitary, lonely even, and some are set in relationship with other humans. The center of the park has a pillar that rises perhaps 30 feet from its base, carved from one piece of stone, showing the transitions through life.

This sculpture caught my eye. It's very near the center of the park. Notice how Vigeland has a handle on the shape of the human body. In this case, he is depicting a father, mother and infant. As I look at this photo I wonder to myself "where is the power?" Is it in the father, the most robust person in this triad, or in the mother, the one who bears the life of the child and is resilient, or in the infant, the one who has the most future? Or, is the power in the relationship that makes that little family?

The King's Palace

Oslo Norway

At one end of Karl Johan's Gate is the old railway station. At the other end of the street is the King's Palace, "Slottet", the residence of the King of Norway and his family. While walking up Karl Johan's, I remarked to one of my relatives that the King has a long walk when he wants to take the train. He (a career railway guy himself) laughed at that but said that the King does in fact take the train from time to time. Although, the King has his own rail car.

The rel's took this picture and said, "Here's the next king of Norway." Aww, they're just saying that.

Surrounding the palace are park-like grounds where anyone can walk. Huge trees that have been there for a long time, and a spirit of community. When the flag is flying full mast, the King is home. People like to hang out especially when the King is home. I guess personal tours can be arranged, and the relatives are excited to put something like that together for my mom and dad when they go next summer.

Gifts for the Fam

I would have loved to give one of these carvings to each of my Dad's 12 cousins still living in Norway, but I ran out of time. I got pooped out preparing for the other parts of my trip.

So, my hosts, and the female cousins all got a carving from me. These are called "Nisse" (niss-eh). They are little guys that go up and down the hills looking for ways to earn their keep, helping farmers chop wood or do other tasks. By nature, they don't let the grass grow under their feet. They're on the move. I guess you could call them "Wandering Norwegians!"

It was important to me to give them. What the recipients thought of them, now that's another story. Possibly varied responses, but my family has some quiet members so it's not fair for me to judge too quickly.

The style is called "flat plane carving", which is particularly Scandinavian. The artists who really do this well are people who are able to get the angles just right, so the shadows can play on the surface of the carving. Angled carving leaves some work for the imagination too, which I think is a good thing.

I'd like to keep carving and see if it can possibly be a lifelong pastime.

These are carved from basswood, and their staffs are made from myrtlewood which is unique to the coast of Oregon and northern California. The paints are acrylic, and the antiquing is a walnut stain mixed into boiled linseed oil.

Headed to Norway

Tomorrow is a big trip for me! I'm going to Norway to see relatives, and to visit the area where my grandpa grew up. I have many goals for this trip, many hopes and dreams, and I'm so excited that I'm crawling out of my skin.

Been learning a few phrases in Norwegian.

Deciding how much to spend on gifts when I'm there.

Getting gifts ready for the family there.

Making sure that I have my camera packed, my digital voice recorder, and my computer.

My grandpa came from an area called Sokndal in the south of Norway. He grew up farming with his family. The farm couldn't sustain the family, and there had been several neighbors and relative who already left for new opportunities, so he decided to emigrate to the U.S. There is more to tell about grandpa and other ancestors of mine. Stay tuned! I'll try to get some stuff up here on this blog. I've been keeping updates in other places for a while, and so this blog has gotten cold.

Shame - a Few Thoughts

In "When Elephants Weep," Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson speculates and gives considerable evidence (both scientific and anecdotal) for the emotional life of individual animals and communities of animals, citing examples from insects to pachyderms. Much of the book is spent describing the emotional life of monkeys and other primates.

I think it's a fascinating read. It reminds me that for all we know about creation, there is yet so much to discover; and many of our discoveries bring about a reevaluation of the assumptions we inherited.

For example, there is a section on "Shame, Blushing and Hidden Secrets," where this sentence just blurts out: "Shame is one of the most vividly remembered feelings." When I saw that, a kind of shock wave went through me. This is absolutely true. The author goes on to say that other emotions, some even thought to be more intense than shame (anger, for example) are remembered with less intensity than shame. We remember that we were angry, but the actual intensity of that anger has likely subsided. Since this book is about the emotional life of animals (subtext: humans are very creaturely) he spends some time in the discovery process, poking holes in the assumption that the rest of the animal kingdom is basically devoid of emotion. The claim that animals are devoid of emotion gives humankind license to conduct experiments, hunt, proclaim superiority, etc.

Of course I am a human, reading a book written by a human on non-human emotional processes, and part of the "hook" is to realize the intensities and involuntary emotional reactivity that I experience inside my own self.

So on this topic of shame and memory, I immediately thought of the culture of my upbringing and the dominant culture of the world around me. Through no fault of their own except passive acceptance, my forebears utilized shame both in parenting within family groups and in the ordering of society. In fact I suppose it can be argued that the threat of shame is what provides the foundation for a law-abiding society. Parenthetically, when I was recently pulled over for speeding, I felt shame in several ways: 1) the lights of the patrol car, 2) the presence of the officer standing over me, 3) being with about forty others and taking my turn standing in front of the judge at Justice Court, 4) telling my wife. 5) telling my kids. Some people may not attach shame to that simple experience, but I certainly did. And I suspect that those in authority would hope for some amount of shame in the perpetrator.

Now as a theologian, I wonder about shame in terms of our experience in Christian spirituality. How important is it for systematic theology? The Lutheran doctrine of Law and Gospel is a way to describe the bondage we have as sinners under the wrath of God, and then the freedom we receive through the death and resurrection of Christ. It seems to me that shame is part of the picture here. My human experience of shame in the midst of family and society is quite negative, where there is judgment and very little mercy. In fact I consider that shame has been used in my life as a way to manipulate me into a particular moral code, a code that in the end happens to be well and good, but the path to get there is more than a little rough. Isn't there a different way to grow into a particular walk of life, especially when speaking about the Christian's relationship with Jesus Christ and the world around them?

The more difficult way to approach this topic is to examine the ways I covertly and unconsciously apply shaming techniques in my ministry and in my parenting. Whenever I am in a position of authority, the authority figures of my past are the ones whose influence almost dictates my very state of mind. My goodness, this is a question I'll have to be considering very deeply for quite some time. Especially, if I would rather not use shaming as a technique, what else should I take up as a paradigm?

Easter Sermon, "He Goes on Ahead" Mk 16

“So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

Well dear friends, what kind of crazy ending is this? Were you listening to how things ended here in this Gospel called Mark? What a way to finish reporting about the greatest event in all of creation, in all of history! They were terrorized and amazed, and as they left that place where the tomb of Jesus was, they kept their mouths shut. They zipped their lips. They told no one.

This is a non-ending. If you’ve been in your Bible enough to know something about the other three accounts of the Resurrection, you’d maybe notice that they tell the story with a lot more climax, a much better ending. None of this stuff about running away terrified!

John, for example, says that Mary Magdalene hangs back once the women find the tomb empty. She lingers in the garden, weeping. All of a sudden she’s approached by a man she thinks is the gardener. They strike up a conversation and Mary accuses him of taking away the body of Christ. But then Christ makes a connection with her by speaking her name, his words heal a broken bond, and she suddenly realizes that she’s in the presence of the resurrected Jesus!

What a great way to end the story! What joy! What celebration. Mary becomes the first evangelist and begins to spread the word. But here, we’re left fidgeting with these final words, and this very last word, “afraid.”

It would be like both glass slippers breaking before Cinderella got a chance to be united with the Prince. It would be like telling a fishing story about the big one - the one that got away! It’s like telling about a game-winning free throw, that missed!

What a downer.

Backing up a bit, three women who were close companions to Jesus throughout his life, had come to serve him, even after his death. To do their quiet work together. They were prepared to go into that tomb, find his body, and then gently and carefully place the spices on him and around him, to preserve his body and to show him their respect. What tender moments those would have been. Things related to death are so sterile today, but they sure weren’t back then! Those spices were meant to keep away the smell of death. To overpower the stench.

How solemn it must have been. And sad. What could those ladies, those followers of Jesus, say to one another to comfort the other? Were they talking together about things that Jesus had said while he was still alive? Were they remembering the times when he had healed someone, or even brought someone miraculously back from the dead? What were they talking about? Or were they silent this morning? The memory of their Lord on the cross was too fresh, too raw.

As they were walking, the thought hits them, that the tomb will certainly have a large stone at the opening, and there was no way even all three of them working together were going to be able to move it, not even an inch.

I finally saw a picture of a tomb from around the time of Christ. It showed one that was probably more elaborate than the one that housed Jesus, but it could have been similar enough. The stone I saw was shaped like a big tractor wheel, and the entrance to the tomb was like a trench that was just wide enough for the stone to be rolled into it. The trench was like a ramp leading downward, and so when the stone was rolled in place I would not be surprised if it even keeps water out. It was that tight.

No wonder these women wondered about the stone.

This is the point where the surprises begin to happen.

Each of the girls in the Aalgaard house have taken their turns waking us up at night. I have to admit they’ve learned that it’s a lot easier to wake Dawn than me! They’ve learned to walk as silent as cats, and when they get to our bed, all they have to do is stand there, and pretty soon we’re stirred from sleep because somehow we can tell that there’s a kid right in front of our faces, not saying a word, but staring at us!

Our peaceful night is interrupted by a set of two little eyes.

We think that the little world of our room is one way, but in fact there’s something else going on.

And in that unpredictable moment the very first response is fear.

This is what these women are experiencing this morning. What would they expect to see, or hear when coming to the tomb of their Lord? Well, I guess the answer is nothing. They don’t expect anything out of the ordinary at all. And if I were there I would hope it were so uneventful that I could just go home afterward and get on with my life, living with my grief.

So the first surprise is that the stone isn’t where it should be. Something’s not right.

The next surprise is one for me, and maybe for you too. The women drum up the courage to enter that tomb, not knowing what they would find. Would you go into a tomb after the entrance has been disturbed? You’d almost expect to see yellow police tape.

The next surprise is that the tomb isn’t full of the silence that accompanies death. They expected the only sound to be the shuffling of their own feet, and the sound of their own breathing. But there was another form of life there, a man in white robes, watching them and getting ready to make an announcement to them that they thought they would never hear.

The next surprise is what this man said. “Don’t be alarmed. You’re looking for Jesus of Nazareth, the one who was crucified. He’s been raised. He isn’t here. They laid him there. He’s not there anymore, is he?”

Those spices are useless now. They have no purpose. Now, they’ve just gone from such grief to actual terror. These words have just rocked their world!

But now, hearing the words of the man in white robes, something else is about to happen. Another surprise. As Jesus said earlier, the disciples are told to go on to Galilee, to the homeland of Jesus and Peter and other disciples, and they will see him there.

Jesus is going ahead of the disciples, into the next great part of the story of God’s mission in the world. If we were to look further ahead, and hear about the way the Christian movement took off, we would hear of a phenomenon that spread like wildfire. Hundreds of people at a time calling Jesus their Lord, going through the waters of baptism, believing in him and shaping their own lives to be like his.

People like Paul, who got knocked off his own self-prescribed path and took on a new vocation. Instead of jailing and killing Christians, he made more of them by giving them the Gospel, lots and lots more Christians, because he had been grabbed by the grace of God through Jesus. And Jesus had gone ahead into each of those communities, preparing the hearts and minds of those who would hear about this crucified and risen teacher from Galilee, Jesus, God in the flesh.

And so the Easter message today, is that Jesus is going ahead of us too. Jesus is going ahead of you, dear people of God, preparing a path, preparing a place to stay, getting your future ready for you, even preparing people for your encounter with them, because you bear your faith in you. I don’t know exactly what Jesus is doing ahead of you. I’m not in your tomorrow. Only God can be there.

But if I’ve come to learn a thing or two about this risen man named Jesus, then I can confess right now, that Jesus does in fact go ahead of us, creating new things with precise detail.

When I decided to take this call and serve you as your pastor, I didn’t know any of you. And it goes both directions. I’m sure you were wondering how this was all going to go, having me as your pastor. I was wondering that too as I was plodding along trying to learn names and traditions.

It didn’t take too long for me to begin to realize however, that this is the call for me. And now with these words from Mark bouncing around in my head, I can say confidently that Jesus must have gone ahead of me and my family, to this place called Ontario.

Jesus went ahead of me, creating new friendships and then placing them in our lives.
Even when I think of the homes we’ve lived in, I know that the Lord had gone ahead and found the right places.

It was Jesus who planted the idea of Mission Builders in our heads, mine and yours.
It was Jesus who tapped your heart and asked you to release some of your savings and investments so that we could expand into new space.

It was Jesus who went on ahead of this whole community in 2005, seeing the need of hungry people to simply have enough to eat. And it was Jesus who brought the right people to the table, so that more tables in our area could have something on them.

It was Jesus who went on ahead of those who were planning the Boys and Girls Club here in town. It was Jesus who made the way more smooth.

When we ask God to bless our learning together, and our times of fellowship, and our whole congregation, we’re asking Jesus to go ahead of us.

I proclaim that he is going on ahead of you. Making rough edges smooth and perhaps even making smooth edges rough.

And people of St. Paul, this same Lord, now raised from the dead, is going ahead of us. We’ll send a bunch of kids to Bible Camp. We’ll be busting at the seams with Vacation Bible School. We’ll have a summer meal program for neighborhood kids in July. We’re going to have an art camp. We’re going to collect backpacks again for kids in need. We’ll continue with a quilting ministry, with music and worship, with Financial Peace University. And Jesus in ahead of us, free from the bonds of sin and death, and the fear of death, accomplishing his mission as he keeps calling us and those around us.

And so in your own life, as you continue to walk in faith as a follower of Jesus, there will be times when you notice that the Lord has done something marvelous for you, or with you. That’s the time to say, “Jesus must have gone ahead of me. Because I met him there, even though I didn’t recognize him.”

Amen.