Grandpas and Grandsons

Growing up, I never had a living grandfather. I never saw what it was like for grandchildren to interact with their grandfathers except perhaps from afar. Both of my grandpas died young and never even met their grandchildren. As a mother now myself, I now understand the pangs of hurt that must have occasionally ripped through the hearts of both of my parents. I understand now because my father died when my son, his firstborn grandchild, was just 10 months old. The pain comes and goes, but some days it is palpable, hanging in the air like a heavy mist. Thursday was one of those days as I watched my son interact with my wonderful father-in-law. As we await Call or another full-time job, we are living with my in-laws, so Thomas has received the blessing of a lot of quality time with his grandparents. On Thursday, Chris' father arrived home early from work. Thomas looked up at him and asked, "Are you going to work in the basement?"

"Well," my father-in-law answered, "I'm going to do yard work."

Thomas' face lit up, with his little grin going ear to ear and his eyes squinching up in excitement. He then put on his serious man voice, which drops a few pitches from his regular voice, and includes head nodding: "I need to do my yard work, too. Grandpa. Yard work is never done." This was said with much authority. I looked over at my father-in-law and saw his special smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. It is a smile reserved for times when he finds Thomas to be particularly adorable and hilarious, and is trying not to laugh. His mouth stays shut, but the corners turn up ever so slightly, and then he works his mouth back and forth, trying to hide the smile and the laughter threatening to come out with it. My father-in-law is usually pretty quiet and easy-going, so this special expression is not something that shows up all the time.

"Would you like to help me, Thomas," he asked. At Thomas' explosive yes, he instructed him to put on his shoes and coat. I readied Thomas for his "yard work" and then went into the kitchen to begin working on dinner.

A few minutes later, I heard the door slam, the sound of little feet running, and then the sound of the door slamming again. Puzzled, I went to look out the window to see why Thomas had run in and then right back out. Grandpa has a stash of baseball caps in the garage. He had put on a Huskers ball cap, so Thomas ran inside and grabbed his Huskers ball cap, the one Grandpa had given him for Christmas. He wanted to be just like Grandpa. As the afternoon went on, I would catch glimpses of them. There would stride Grandpa, wearing his cap and carrying his branch cutters, as well as a kneeler. A few feet behind, Thomas would come into view, striding purposefully and carrying "his" kneeler. He followed Grandpa to and fro for almost two hours straight. It made my heart melt. They were so adorable and I am so thankful for such a wonderful father-in-law, whom I don't hestitate to call Dad, and such a wonderful Grandpa.

Then, before I knew it, the tears came and I was sobbing into Chris' shoulder while I was supposed to be slicing tomatoes. For every minute of adorable, loving, grandpa grandson bonding between Thomas and Grandpa Mark, there is a minute of adorable, loving, grandpa grandson bonding that will never happen between Thomas and my dad, Grandpa Rick. Three years and some days it is still so palpable. So fresh. So painful. Thomas does something new and my heart constricts My dad will never know about that. Thomas and Grandpa Mark do their "yard work" and I sob to my husband, "He'll never follow my Dad around that way." Thomas cheers for the Steelers and wears his uniform and I think, "My Dad would have loved this."

After all, the first thing my Dad did when he knew we were pregnant was go out and buy a newborn Steelers outfit of onsie, booties, and cap. "It doesn't matter if the baby is a boy or a girl." The joy in his voice when we told him we were expecting Thomas, even over the phone, was so tangible I knew exactly the expression that must have been on his face, the one where he would smile knowingly with his lips stretched across his teeth and his eyes slanting sideways at you. From the moment my Dad knew we were going to have a baby, it seemed his love for that child was so fierce you could feel it.

He was there for Thomas' birth. Originally, I was going to have my dad wait outside, but I am so glad now that I had him in the room with me up until they took me for an emergency c-section. As soon as the c-section was over, I started asking for someone to go and find my parents. Finally, my husband went while they weighed and measured Thomas. My parents were so excited. They stayed for several days, so of course we put the onsie on Thomas as soon as we could. Here is a picture of my Dad with Thomas in the NICU (he had low blood sugar at birth).

 

 

The computer in the Ronald McDonald House at the hospital wouldn't work, so my Dad sent this picture to my internship church. When we went back to church, the picture of my Dad and Thomas was plastered at the entrances to the school, the church, and the house which held the parish staff offices. Everyone was in love with my Dad and the expression on his face. When he went back to Illinois, my Dad put this picture up in his store window and displayed it there proudly for months. Whenever he would talk about Thomas, he would emphatically add "God love him!" to the end of every sentence. For the 10 months of Thomas' life that my Dad was living, he loved him with every ounce of love he could muster. He loved him enough for a lifetime.

 

Now, we wear our Steelers gear in honor of my Dad, and watch Grandpa Rick movies on his death date and his birthday. We eat Meckler Dip. We talk about how Grandpa Rick will be resurrected on the Last Day, and we look through a scrapbook album of my son and Grandpa Rick together. We have our special memories, memories that we have worked to inculcate in Thomas.

 

My son has been blessed with two really great grandpas. And there is nothing like the bond between a grandpa and a grandson.

Theology Pet Peeves: Devotions

Everyone has pet peeves. Some people hate it when the cap is left off the toothpaste. I can't stand a pile of dishes in the sink. Worst of all, though, are my theological pet peeves. For instance, the one to be discussed today: The incessant focus on devotions for some Christians. When most Christians use this word, they mean something very specific. They are picturing you sitting at your kitchen table, or in a coffee house, or wherever, with a Bible in front of you, along with some cute little devotional booklet -- maybe a Portals of Prayer, maybe a Max Lucado, or what have you. There might also be a prayer journal close at hand. Don't get me wrong, devotions are wonderful, helpful, and important. What bothers me is the very narrow understanding of what a devotion is or what "devotion" is in general, and the guilt trip which is often laid on people when they are not "in the Word" every day with a clear-cut "devotion," when they are not "being devotional" according to the usual definition. (Just the phrase "in the Word" gets my goat. Guess what!!?? The WORD, Jesus Christ Himself, is already IN YOU by virtue of your Baptism into His name, His death, His life! But I digress. ) Here's the thing, devotion/devotions/devotional should be understood more in the light of vocation and of Christ's work, than in the light of our own work, and it certainly should not be a cause for a guilt trip.

Look. Her hand is on her Bible. She is SO devotional. This image came from www.avirtuouswoman.org.

A Look at What Devotion Acutally Is

I think some of this may be a new concept for some people, though for others, this may already be something they have pondered. However, let's just start by laying it out there on the line: reading the Bible with a little devotional booklet and a prayer journal is not the only "devotion" there is. In fact, I would not even say that it is the primary form of "devotion." The Bible is not a means to an end, with that end being your individual devotional life, piety, and posture. The Bible is not a vehicle for "devotion." Devotion flows first and foremost from Our Lord's Eucharistic service to us. When we are gathered in the assembly of the Church to hear the words of forgiveness spoken by Christ through our Pastor, when we hear His Word of Law and Gospel both in the readings and in the preaching, when we receive His Body and Blood for the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation, there is devotion. It doesn't look like the typical idea of the individual in devotion, bowed low over her kitchen table, or sitting on a bench with a Bible in his hand, but it is, my friends, true devotion. And it is not our work, but Christ's work in us as He and His Word spoken and Word eaten and Word drunk are killing us to make us alive, and transforming us, day by day (a transformation which, by the way, is virtually invisible to us).

Out from that Eucharistic service we step into daily life, into our vocations as mothers, fathers, children, siblings, teachers, husbands, wives, single people, workers, employers, engineers, librarians, etc., etc., etc. And, my friends, for the Christian that daily life, that living within one's vocation is...wait for it...DEVOTIONAL in and of itself, whether or not you carve out 30-45 minutes a morning to do your "devotion" in the typical sense. Sent forth by God's blessing, as we are, every moment of our lives becomes a form of devotion, not because of how we think, how we feel, or what we do, but because of Christ's work in and through us, especially working through our vocations. We may not be, and most of the time probably are not, aware that we are even doing anything "devotional." Yet, the mother with the sleeping baby on her chest, afraid to move and wake the child, she is being devotional. The dad teaching his son how to play soccer in the front yard, he is being devotional. The wife washing dishes at the sink at the end of a long day without time for a devotion, she is being devotional. The employee typing a memo, he is being devotional. The teacher going over the finer points of Physics, she is being devotional. The firefighter suiting up...well, you guessed it, devotional. Why? Because working in our vocations to serve others IS devotional in and of itself, even when it is something so mundane as the daily task of sorting the mail, throwing in a load of laundry, or crunching the numbers for a company. And yeah, when you're wiping your kids poopy butt -- devotional. I said it. (Well, I wrote it). It's true. Devotional.

As Christians, these things are devotional because they take place in the context of our Baptisms, our vocations, and our sending out from the Lord's Eucharistic service to us with His service in us and through us for others. And, if, at the end of a long day in which there has not been time for you to do a devotion, but you just want to lay on the couch and turn off your brain, that's okay, too. Devotion has been happening all day. Take a little Sabbath rest. That's gift. And devotion of all kinds, that's gift, too. 

The "Do Your Devotion" Guilt Trip

Speaking of gift, hand in hand with a misunderstanding of devotion as primarily our action is the devotion guilt trip, the rules and regulations for how to do a "right" devotion, and the like. These guilt trips and law-based formulas for how/when to do a devotion are missing the point that "devotion" is GIFT, not a new law. God's Word is GIFT, not a thing to be done. Memorization and careful reading of Scripture are a gift given to us for our edification, building up, strengthening, etc., etc. They SHOULD NOT be an occassion for demonstrating our piety or for making others feel guilty. I once heard someone say that the pile of dirty dishes in the sink should be left, and devotions should be done instead -- doing the pile of dishes was, it was implied, actually a sin, if you still needed to get in your devotions. When I do the dishes, Christ is serving my family in and through that action, and it is devotional. Case in point, again from avirtuouswoman.org, this is exactly the kind of goofiness I am talking about:

"I know a lot of people tell you that it is okay to spend your commute talking to God or to squeeze in time whenever it works for you. However, I want you to consider this: Do you think that God wants you only when it is convenient or do you think He wants you to make time for Him? If He was willing to send His only begotten Son to die a horrible, painfully cruel death for you, is it too much to ask that you get up 30 minutes or an hour earlier and rise to meet him before you have any other distractions?...I encourage you to give it a try! Don’t forget the story of the Morning Manna. If the people of Israel waited too long in the day to gather the Manna from Heaven, it would disappear. So, too, does our blessing from God if we wait until it is convenient to meet Him.There is a special blessing just waiting for you tomorrow morning!"

This is from a post I happened upon when googling the word "devotion." The blog post is from October 2009 and can be found here. (Just to give credit where credit is due. I have never read anything else from this blog, so I am by no means recommending or not recommending it. Bold emphases are mine). I mean, did you catch that?? Did you read that?? Let me break it down for you.

First of all, she is making a law out of personal devotional time and in the process, she turns the Gospel into a Law by using it as a guilt trip for you to do your devotion. 

Consider this me, waving the red flag of warning right in your face.

There should be warning signals going off in your head right now! What the what?! "God sent His Son to die for you, the least you can do is give him 30-45 minutes of your day." Ahhhhh!!!!!!!!! If we're going to go that route, Christ died for you, so you should just give Him your WHOLE day. Certainly 30-45 minutes isn't enough. Stop what you're doing right now and go pick up your Bible and don't stop reading it...EVER. Oh but wait. If we understand devotion as the life of the Christian as lived out in our vocations, as Christ living in and through us, then...the whole day already belongs to Him, and we didn't do ANYTHING to make that so.

Do you see the ridiculousness of this approach? My goodness! The Gospel is free and nothing need be added to it, especially not your "good work" of personal devotional time, preferably 30-45 minutes of it in the morning! Here's what God thinks of your "good work" anyway: "We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away. There is no one who calls upon your name, who rouses himself to take hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us, and have made us melt in the hand of our iniquities" (Isaiah 64:6-7, ESV). Even your good work of devotion is as a polluted rag to God, apart from Christ and His saving work on our behalf to redeem us from even our so-called "good works."

Then there's the whole second issue in this post from avirtuouswoman; this idea that it HAS to be in the morning, that it HAS to be 30-45 minutes, and that if not, your BLESSINGS WILL DISAPPEAR. Do I have to insert the red flags again? This one should be pretty clear. This is a theology of glory. This is name it claim it bogusness. This is earning God's gifts. God gives His gifts when and where HE pleases, including the gift of devotion, including the gift of quiet time with the Lord, and any other blessings He may be wanting to give that day. And the place where He promises to give His gifts, and where you know for certain He will be found? That is not your personal devotional time (as good and helpful as it may be), that is not in your prayers (as good and right as it is to pray -- and it is promised that God will HEAR our prayers,). The place where He promises to be found is Word (i.e. preached Word, spoken Word, Christ Himself) and Sacrament. Which brings us back to the beginning, to the font of all devotion: the Lord's Eucharistic service to us. Devotions/devotion/devotional -- all gift, gift, gift, gift, gift. You don't even have to unwrap it. It's open, it's being done in and through you, it is gift.

Lists of Five in Honor of Five Years of Marriage

Five mini-love notes and promises:

1. I promise never to call you "dh" on this blog. I know it's supposed to mean "dear husband," but my father used it for an insult ending in "head." If you get my drift. And I just can't do it.
2. I am very grateful to be your wife.
3. You make me feel beautiful every day, and I hope I make you feel handsome, too.  :-)
4. I promise to remember to hang dry your khaki pants so that I don't shrink them, since there is no room for error in the length of your cuffs (sorry about that one pair...).
5. I love talking theology with you, and I hope we always talk about the things that matter.

Top five best things that have happened to us in our marriage:

1. Thomas
2. Chris' ordination
3. Family
4. Austin/Round Rock and the people there, Trinity Elkhart and the people there. Oh heck, let's just call this one "friends."
5. Chris' DMA Final Recital/Chris' Doctoral Graduation

Top five challenges in our marriage

1. Thomas  ;-)
2. My dad's death in 2009
3. My spinal fusion surgery -- T-2 to L-2 -- in 2010, and recovery
4. Not being allowed to have another baby for the last 2 years plus.
5. Doctoral School(!!!!)

In all these things, I love my husband more, I have seen his servant heart, and I have thanked God for him.

This post is late (our anniversary was on March 10), but I wanted to honor five with five. A snapshot of our life together. (Sorry if this was too cheesy for everyone else).  ;-)

The Good Shepherd/Sheep Motif in Scripture with an Excursis on Metaphor: Baaaa

Introduction
One of my favorite Scriptural motifs -- okay, who am I kidding, I love all the motifs because motifs are awesome -- but one of the most beloved and well-known Scriptural motifs is that of Jesus as the Good Shepherd and we as his sheep. My four year old son, Thomas, and children everywhere, I think, particularly love this motif. It's accessible at a young age and grows in depth of meaning as we age and understand more and more about everything this motif entails. What's important to note, as with almost any Scriptural motif, image, or metaphor, is that we should focus most on what it says about Jesus, what it says about Jesus in relation to us, and very little on what it says about us apart from Jesus.There is so much that this motif does and says, but it can't all be covered here (that would take a dissertation), so I'll just be focusing on its function as a source of comfort for us.


This image was found at www.1800sunstar.com.

A Brief Excursis on Metaphor
I was an English major, so I have to do this.  :-) It can't be helped. Metaphor conveys meaning by comparing two ideas, objects, images, etc. Metaphor is never exhaustive. In other words the item for which the metaphor stands does not usually have ALL of the characteristics of the metaphor. For example, let's say you're using this phrase to describe your boss:

"She's a bear of a woman."
Context will help so let's say this is the metaphor in context:

"My boss looked down on me from her lofty height, drew in a deep breath which heaved her wide rib cage up and smiled menacingly. She's a bear of a woman, which became all too clear as she raised her gravelly, growly voice and yelled..."

From the context, you'll probably deduce that when I describe my boss as a bear, I'm thinking of a few specific traits: her height, her demeanor (yelling, growling) and her, ahem, size. I probably DO NOT mean that she is hairy, that she has a snout and razor sharp teeth, or that she mauls people, climbs trees, and eats honey. Keep this example of how metaphor is used in mind as we discuss the motif and metaphor of Jesus as the Good Shepherd and we as the sheep.

Old Testament Passages

Moses is a keeper of his father-in-law's flock in Midian (Exodus 3:1). He carries a staff as he leads the people out of Israel, and it is through this staff that YHWH often works miracles. In a sense, Moses "shepherds" YHWH's people out of slavery and into the Promised Land. Moses is a type of Christ, so Moses' shepherding of the flock of the Israelites is a type of Christ's shepherding of us out of slavery to sin, death, and the devil, and into YHWH's forgiveness, life, and salvation. In other words, Moses prefigures Christ in this way, as well as in many others. What Moses does incompletely, Jesus fulfills completely.

Additionally, King David is first a shepherd to his father's flocks (1 Samuel 16:11). David is also a type of Christ, and he shepherds YHWH's people as their King, appointed by God Himself, though of course, he is a flawed King. Still, the idea remains that God cares for his people through a "shepherd." What David does incompletely, Jesus fulfills completely.


This image is taken from www.jesuswalk.com

Then, of course, you have Psalm 23, where David speaks of the Lord as his shepherd. David offers us some very specific details about which attributes of a shepherd we are to understand YHWH has: like a shepherd, he leads David to green pastures (leads, guides, feeds), like a shepherd he leads David to still waters (nourishes). As one even greater than a shepherd, though, YHWH does much more than a shepherd: he restores the soul, and leads David in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. In other words, not only does YHWH as shepherd lead David to physical nourishment, he also nourishes the soul and spirit. Obviously, a regular shepherd does not deal with spiritual things, but David is extending the metaphor. Jesus is the fulfillment of this Psalm, as well, as he is the one who shepherds YHWH's people of all times and all ages into life and out of death.
Bottom line: A shepherd, a good one, leads the sheep to sustenance (pasture and water), finds those that wander and carries them home, and fights off predators.

The New Testament

The motif of the good shepherd recurs throughout the New Testatement in parables such as the lost sheep. One of the most powerful and instructive for our purposes, though, is Jesus I AM statement in John Chapter 10. Throughout John, Jesus uses the "I AM" statement to show that he is YHWH himself, in the flesh, the true Son of God. In John 10, Jesus uses the idea of the shepherd to focus on what he as the shepherd does for his sheep. Jesus enters the sheep pen through the gate, unlike the robber or the thief, because his is the legitimate shepherd for the sheep. The sheep know their shepherd by his voice and he calls them by name. They follow him because they know his voice. Jesus is saying that the sheep belong to him and that he knows them by name. He is not using the metaphor of the sheep to compare his followers to balls of wool running around on all fours, but as a source of comfort. The metaphor focuses on how Jesus corresponds to a shepherd by leading his people, protecting them, and sustaining him. The metaphor of the sheep is only to say that we as Christians know the voice of our Savior, which now speaks through the apostolic ministry, because he has called us by name (where? in the waters of Holy Baptism). The metaphor is not there to tell us how to behave as sheep to to say that we are these stupid creatures that run around bleating and knocking into stuff. Rather, it is there for comfort.

When the people do not understand what Jesus is trying to tell them with this metaphor, he becomes more emphatic and this is where the I AM statement comes in. The fact that Jesus is the Good Shepherd points to his divinity! "I AM the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd, who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. I AM the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep" (John 10:11-16, ESV). The focus here is on who Jesus is as the Good Shepherd: He is YHWH himself, come to save his people by laying his life down on their behalf, just as a shepherd would do for his flock. Only Jesus the Good Shepherd's death does even more for the sheep than the regular shepherd who lays down his life for the flock. Jesus the Good Shepherd saves the sheep body, soul, and spirit. Jesus the Good Shepherd takes his life up again. This idea of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, then, focuses on what Jesus does for the sheep. The metaphor for us as the sheep extends only this far: We know the voice of our Shepherd and our Shepherd knows us by name, just as regular sheep know their shepherd by his voice and follow him.

This emphasis is reinforced by some other key reappearances of this theme in the Gospel of John. First, after the resurrection, though Jesus speaks with her and she looks right at him, Mary does not know Jesus until he speaks her name (John 20:11-18)! It is in his calling of her by name that Mary knows her Good Shepherd. The focus here, again, is not on Mary as the sheep, but on Jesus as the Good Shepherd who laid down his life for her, and who calls her by name. Again, the motif recurs when Jesus reinstates Peter. Here, is appointing Peter to a position as an undershepherd. Again, the focus is on what Jesus does to care for his sheep in and through Peter, rather than on what the sheep are supposed to do or look like. Jesus urges Peter to feed his lambs, tend his sheep, and feed his sheep (three times to reinstate Peter for the three denials) (John 21:15-19). So again, the metaphor is not a one to one correspondence. We are not meant to envision ourselves as stupid, wooly, bleating sheep, but as sheep in that we are cared for, nurtured, protected, and saved by THE Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for us and calls us by name. The metaphor is about Jesus and what he does for us; it's not about us. That's why this one never gets old:

"I am Jesus' little lamb, Ever glad at heart I am; For my Shepherd gently guides me, knows my needs and well provides me, Loves me ev'ry day the same, Even calls me by my name" (LSB 740:1, "I Am Jesus' Little Lamb).

Bottom line: Our Good Shepherd, Jesus, provides daily sustenance for us, leads us to nourishment (the Lord's Supper), and overcomes our old foes: sin, death, and the devil. Take heart, little sheep, your Good Shepherd lives, and he calls you by name!

Book Review: Hotel On the Corner of Bitter and Sweet

A few months ago, my sister-in-law (a fellow English major), recommended a book to me: Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford. You can get it here (and I'm sure in your local bookstore as well). It is also out in paperback, though this is the link to the hardcover edition.

First of all, I will say: read it. Read it. Read it.

Now that I have that out of the way, perhaps you'd like to know why I'm telling you to read it. Hotel is Ford's debut novel. You can check out his website here. It is a very lovely, quiet story set during the days surrounding the bombing of Pearl Harbor in December 1941 and during the early 80's. The main character is Henry, a young Chinese boy (and then an older man, reminiscing) living in San Francisco. Henry's father is a loyal Chinese man who has many prejudices against the Japanese due to their invasion of his province in China. Henry is sent by his parents to an American school to gain a better education than that available at the Chinese school down the street. There he meets Keiko, a Japanese-American girl, whose family has been in America for some time, and who considers herself an American. Henry and Keiko's family are very different in this regard. Their friendship is not looked on with pleasure by Henry's parents, to say the least, and in the days following Pearl Harbor, Henry fights to stay in touch with Keiko as she and her family, as well as all the other Japanese-Americans in San Francisco, are rounded up and shipped off to internment camps. All these memories come to the forefront when, in the 1980's, the old Japanese Panama Hotel is finally bought and remodeled. In the basement is found many of the belongings which the Japanese-Americans hid for safe-keeping when they left, thinking they would someday return (which most did not).


This image is taken from colorlines.com.

This was an aspect of the WWII era about which I knew very little. We pretty much glossed over internment camps in our quick overview of WWII in high school. Part of what made this story so fascinating was the personal way in which that story was told, and the way in which it is described from the perspective of those who went through it. Yet, the internment camps do not take on a political character. The story does not become bogged down in trying to make a statement about internment camps or anything of that nature. Rather, the internment of the Japanese-American citizens serves as a part of Henry's growth, as an element of the story, much like any other element. In that simple treatment, I think the reader is left with more of an impression of what the camps meant for countless Americans of Japanese descent, as well as their friends and families. It is a soft, quiet way of dealing with them. It is not the central idea or point of the novel, but a part of the journey the characters take.


Picture is taken from a Wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_American_internment

In addition to the way Ford treated historical facts with a simple, creative touch, the character of Henry was really beautifully written. I don't know that I have ever enjoyed reading a male character so much as I enjoyed reading Henry. There's something quietly strong, yet moving about the way Ford wrote this character. I admired Henry and I rooted for him. He struggles between two different worlds both as a young boy, and then again as a widowed man in his 50's. You feel the struggle, yet you always feel that the older Henry has this aspect of peace still settled on him, like a warm blanket that encloses even those struggles and losses.

It's a wonderful, lovely, moving story. The novel, as the title suggests, has just the right amount of bitter and sweet. Go ahead, pick it up and give it a go. Happy reading!

Campus Ministry: An Ark from the Storm of College Life

           Given the recent events in LCMS Campus Ministry, I have been thinking a lot lately about what Campus Ministry meant to me as a college student, and what it means to me today. I have often stressed the importance of Campus Ministry among my friends and family, who tend to agree with me. There were also times when I was frustrated over people's apathy toward Campus Ministry or their unwillingness to help fund it. Sometimes there is a line of thinking that goes a little bit like this: “College is a time for people to do their thing, they're just going to leave the church anyway, so why bother. Maybe they'll come back when they have kids.” This attitude makes silly assumptions and belies the real issue: Some people just don't care about the Spiritual Care of college students, or they have given it up as a lost cause. This breaks my heart because for me, Campus Ministry was so important to my Spiritual well-being, my relationships, and my future.

When I arrived on campus at the University of Iowa in the Fall of 2001, I was a member of the ELCA. My home church was staunchly against the tide of leadership and thought in the ELCA and was fighting it. The pastor there told me to be wary of ELCA Campus Ministries because they tended to be quite liberal and theologically "iffy" (at best), and because they were generally joint ministries with the Episcopal Church. He told me to find a Church that believed the Bible was wholly God's Word, and that did not compromise that truth. "It doesn't have to be ELCA." Prior to this conversation, I had visited campus for freshman orientation and accidentally checked the LCMS box at the campus ministry table. I received mailings from St. Paul's Lutheran Chapel and University Center all summer long. So, when I arrived on Campus in the fall, I went first to the ELCA ministry (where no one was to be found though all the doors were open -- weird), and then straight down the street to the LCMS campus ministry. There I met Pastor Mons, who had just taken the Call and had not even been installed yet (they were waiting for opening weekend of school so students could attend). I stuck out my hand and said, "Hi, I'm Elizabeth Meckler, and I am a member of the ELCA, but I'm not sure I want to attend an ELCA church." I’m sure that probably threw him for a bit of a loop! Pastor was on his way out the door, for a medical appointment, so we made an appointment for the following week and he invited me to his installation.

The first time I met with Pastor Mons, it became clear to him, and really for the first time to me, that my home church was closer in thought to the LCMS than the ELCA on a lot of key points. He said something like, "Well, you're a horse of a different color." We agreed that until he spoke with the District President and my pastor, I would not commune. I attended services at the Chapel and it became my home. Pastor Mons and I met once a week on Fridays in a sort of informal catechetical session where we basically went through the major differences between the church bodies, and wherein I learned I continuously lined up well with LCMS doctrine. I began to commune under Pastoral Care while at school nine months out of the year. I began volunteering at the Chapel, started editing the newsletter, and at some point I became church secretary. The hardest thing for me was closed communion, not because I didn't understand it, but because I knew that once I became LCMS, I would abide by it and would not be able to commune with my family. I went home the summer after my freshman year to talk to my family about leaving the ELCA, and to talk to my pastor. They were all much more supportive than I had expected. When I returned in the fall for my sophomore year, I became a member of St. Paul's, and a member of the LCMS. I also became a Peer Minister.

As students and permanent congregational members, we were fed with God's Word and with His very Body and Blood every week at the 10:30 AM service. Pastor Mons offered Sunday morning Bible study and Wednesday evening devotions. There were activities and servant trips. Through it all, everything we did flowed from the Lord's Eucharistic service to us. It shaped who we were, as it does all Christians, and the Chapel became our "ark", our shelter and home from the storms of campus life, family issues, national tragedies and more. We learned not only God's Word, but also about the Confessions of our faith as we studied both the Augsburg Confession and the Formula of Concord. We were being shaped as Lutherans, as people of God. As Peer Ministers, we engaged in additional study so that we could faithfully lead our fellow students not only in planning activities, but in being a listening ear when needed, a resource, or an encourager. Often, we pointed our fellow students toward speaking with Pastor when it seemed more was needed, but other times we as students all cared for one another in spirit and body. St. Paul's was a place where we learned who we were as Baptized Christians, how to care for others in the body, and where Pastor was intentionally training us as future lay leaders or future church workers.

For me, personally, Pastor and his family became a huge support system away from home. I babysat for their children, and they helped me to overcome fears and anxieties in my life. Pastor's wife, Christine, became a mentor; like an older sister or cousin, she helped me make the transition from girl to woman in so many ways. She treated me as an equal. When my grandmother died my sophomore year of college, I did not go across the hall to my hallmates, I did not go to a friend's house, I went straight to Pastor's office. I called him to ask if he was available, and he said yes. By the time I arrived, he had called Christine and arranged with her that I should come home with him at lunch and spend the day with their family as I dealt with this new reality. When other hardships arose in my family, it was Pastor Mons, Christine, and my Chapel family who supported and encouraged me, who counseled me to remain at school though I wanted to go home (for there was nothing I could do), who prayed for me and my family without judgment. When I had problems with my sinful nature, I went to Pastor for counseling and Private Confession and Absolution.

My fellow students were also incredibly important to me. We supported one another in our academic goals, as well as our spiritual growth and relationships. We attended organized events at church, and we also gathered spontaneously for study groups and random Friday night lounging in the Student Center where someone would invariably grab a guitar while the rest of us grabbed hymnals and we'd sing hymns to the guitar so we could sit around on the sofas. Other times, I would meet up with another friend who played piano and we'd sit in the choir loft together, turning through the hymnal and singing our favorites, introducing each other to new hymns. My friend introduced me to one of her favorites, "Behold a Host Arrayed in White," which I eventually requested at my father's funeral several years later.

The permanent congregation members were also really supportive of Campus Ministry. St. Paul's is a dedicated Campus Ministry with at least 90% student members (both full fledged like I was and associate memberships so that they could retain membership at their home congregation, but vote at St. Paul's, as well). The permanent congregation gave of their time, money, and talents to support both American students and International students. They adopted us on an informal basis with meals, movie nights, advice, laughter, etc. Since I graduated, what happened quite informally has become an intentional ministry of St. Paul's called Home Away from Home, which is a really great part of what they do. For me, several members were important, but one couple in particular took me into their hearts. They had me over for dinner and spectacular brownie sundaes, movie nights, outings, etc. They were my friends, but they were also mentors. When I left for graduate school, they took a screen shot of the Seminary on Google satellite and sent it to me with a note saying, "We're still watching out for you."

That sentiment of watching out for one another, that connection, remains still. It remains because it was not based on personal feelings alone, nor on proximity to one another. It was based on the tie that truly binds: Jesus Christ and Him crucified. Many of my fellow former Chapelites now serve their families, congregations, and communities through their Baptized identities and their understanding of their vocations. These are strengths which were developed and intentionally nurtured at the Chapel. They are strengths which flow, ultimately, from our Lord’s Eucharistic service to us. So we are full circle. The number one focus of the Chapel was Word and Sacrament Ministry, which sent us forth as strong, mature, young adult Lutherans to serve in family, church, and world. It is that same Eucharistic service to which we return each Sunday in our respective congregations far and wide, to be strengthened again for service. Campus Ministry imprinted this on my life in a renewed way, and God in Christ, who was preached to me during those years, is still taking care of me today, still imprinting himself on me. And the Chapel continues to deliver that same imprint to each new group, sending them out as future lay leaders and church workers, but most of all as Baptized children of the Heavenly Father who live and move and breathe in Him.