Pentecost Blessings, Dear Church!

And not only do we celebrate Pentecost this weekend, but we also gather to honor Memorial Day. It’s a weekend that has always held meaning in a wide variety of ways. We’ll often hear it said that this weekend is the unofficial start of summer, when everyone’s grills get fired up for the first time.

Alongside the various barbecue gatherings, towns and municipalities across the country will hold parades and often graveside ceremonies to honor and give thanks for those who have laid down their lives in service to this country in the armed forces. And truthfully, when I envision Memorial Day in my mind, my memories are a mix of all of these things.

There was a twelve-year stretch from when I was 6 years old to when I was a senior in high school, during which I participated in every single one of my hometown’s Memorial Day Parades. That first one was as I walked hand in hand with my grandfather as he marched with the American Legion. From there, I marched either with the Scouts or as part of the high school marching band.

Afterward, with our hunger returned from the morning’s pancake breakfast at the Methodist church, we’d head over to Gramps’ house for root beer floats. It makes me quite happy that our Memorial Day tradition remains greatly the same, although certain parts now look markedly different.

We’ll still start with the pancake breakfast, then walk to the parade we now enjoy as spectators. We also still get root beer floats, but now from the ice cream shop across the street from our viewing spot. Then, while the parade ends with the ceremony in the cemetery, we head to a different cemetery to visit Gramps and other family members we’ve lost across the years.

This day often evokes a variety of feelings for us all and, like I do, I’m sure you all commemorate the day in several unique ways. In whatever this Monday brings for you, I offer this prayer from the Prayer Book for Armed Services:

Eternal God, we give thanks for all those who have shown the greatest love by laying down their lives for others. We especially thank you for those in our military throughout history who have sacrificed their lives for their fellow citizens and for us who came after. As we remember their service, keep us mindful of all those for whom this day is a burden, and send your spirit of comfort to them. Be present with all the women and men who are serving in the military today. [Though they are at war] let them live for the peace known only from you. Help us to be worthy of their legacy, and keep us mindful of their service, that in all things we may live our lives in praise and thanksgiving to you; through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen

Peace & Blessings, Dear Church,

Pastor Dave

Easter Blessings, Dear Church!

We’re now less than a month away from Synod Assembly, where our whole Metro Chicago Synod gathers to accomplish the work of the synod. At its simplest, you can think of Synod Assembly like the synod’s version of our annual meeting.

Reports are presented on the previous year, the next year’s budget is passed, and elections are held for all varieties of positions. In addition to these tasks, there are opportunities for worship, fellowship, and learning. Workshops are offered to provide learning opportunities across the spectrum of ministry.
 
The Synod Assembly often gets a bad rap, but I remain thankful for this yearly opportunity. This year’s assembly also presents a unique situation. For the second year in a row, we’ll be electing a bishop. At last year’s assembly, Bishop Curry was re-elected to serve a second 6-year term here in Metro Chicago. However, at the 2025 ELCA Churchwide Assembly, he was elected to serve as the ELCA Presiding Bishop!

Rev. Wayne Miller has been serving as our interim bishop since September, but as we gather for this year’s assembly, we’ll elect a new bishop for a 6-year term. The bishop election process takes place entirely within the synod assembly, and the first ballot is what’s called an ecclesial ballot. This ecclesiastical ballot is a write-in and serves as the nominating ballot.
 
To help the voting members know who is eligible and potentially willing, the synod organizes a bishop election forum. From a survey of registered assembly attendees, six individuals have said yes to participating in the bishop election pre-identification process.

These six pastors are: (from top left) Pastor Lawrence Clark, St. Mark’s Lutheran Church, Chicago; Pastor Katie Hines-Shah, Redeemer Lutheran Church, Hinsdale; Pastor Christina Garrett Klein, Edgebrook Lutheran Church, Chicago; Pastor Kathryn Nolte, MCS associate to the bishop; Pastor Carla Thompson Powell, MCS associate to the bishop and Director for Evangelical Mission; and Pastor Heidi Torgerson, Grace Lutheran Church, La Grange.

As we head to Assembly on June 4th and 5th, I ask for your prayers of discernment for John Armstrong, Jay Malo, and me as we represent LCM. As I did last year, I’ll be posting updates on our Facebook page with each ballot so you all can stay in the loop. Thank you so much, Dear Church!

Peace & Blessings, Dear Church,

Pastor Dave

Easter Blessings, Dear Church!

Becky and I went to see one of our favorite artists, Alan Doyle, on Wednesday night in Chicago. Whenever he’s in town, we go to see his show. We loved the show and had a great time, but if I’m being honest, I feel a bit guilty about it. I felt guilty about having a good dinner and enjoying a wonderful show.

I felt this way because I often get a bit of a front row seat to see just how much food insecurity has increased in recent months. A need that has increased not just nationwide, but even right here in our own neighborhood. I’d even had a conversation with some leaders from DuPage United that same day about food insecurity.

Whenever I feel this way, I quickly start thinking about what I ought to do to help fix the problem. And then pretty quickly, as I think about what can improve things, I identify all the ways I’m either not doing enough or haven’t yet done enough. It’s pretty easy to spiral into a deeper pool of guilt with this way of thinking.

All these thoughts came back into my mind during Alan’s show on Wednesday as he told the story behind one of his new songs, Already Dancing. Alan had had the chance to work on and write the music for a musical called Tell Tale Harbor, and was then cast in the show.

He loved the experience, saying that for someone who has spent his life in show business, the newness of theater was that good kind of terrifying feeling of doing something new. There was one scene, however, that required dancing, and Alan just felt he didn’t have the chops to do it. But then the show’s choreographer, Linda, told him, “Alan, love, you’ve already been dancing this whole time!”

And as the lyrics of the song proclaim, “So go on, let your feet hit the floor, they know where they’re going.  And if you could see what I see, I know that you’d know it. You’re already dancing.” What connected with me was the feeling that we always need to do more to solve the problems we face. What if we’re already doing the work?

What if we don’t need to add more to our already full plates, but instead lean into what we have been doing, and trust that we know how to do what we’ve been called to do? Both NFP and the Northern Illinois Foodbank were highlighted this past week by ABC 7 Chicago.

I also want to give great thanks for the work our food pantry has been doing and continues to do to help feed our hungry neighbors. You have continued to support the work they lean into that seeks to meet the rising need with care and compassion. Let us continue this support, as I think we’re already dancing.

Peace & Blessings, Dear Church,

Pastor Dave

Easter Blessings, Dear Church!

What an April it has been! As I shared earlier this month, I’ve taken on a new home project. Well, this week gave me an unexpected project! In a bout of high winds on Monday, one of our trees unfortunately came down. Thankfully, no one was hurt, and somehow the tree didn’t hit any structure! For that, we are most glad. 

So, my Tuesday didn’t go as I expected or planned. With a chainsaw and a wheelbarrow, I got the whole tree cleared away, and once it dries out, we’ll have firewood for quite some time! For as unexpected as my April has been, I realized that our Easter readings have been full of the unexpected. The encounters at the tomb, the Doubting Thomas story, and even our gospel reading this Sunday have this underlying current of fear.

And as the Easter season concludes with Pentecost, it’s also the end of the first half of our Christian liturgical year. The first half of the year is this cycle of Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, and Easter that focuses on the story of Jesus—the promise of his coming, his birth, the light he brings to the world, the seriousness of his mission, his execution, and the mystery of his resurrection.

The fear we’ve been hearing stories of isn’t new to Easter; it’s been underlying the whole story. The first words to Mary back in Advent from the angel are, “Fear not!” And then six months later, the Jesus’ story concludes with “Peace I leave with you,” and “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”

I think we hear so much about this because, as John writes to us, “Perfect love casts out fear.” Perhaps this has been the summary of Jesus’s life story as we’ve been encountering it. But it isn’t just the witness of Jesus’ life that we’ve been left with. When Jesus encounters his disciples, he greets them with peace and then breathes upon them, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you.”

The door to perfect love has been opened for us, the love of God and the love of neighbor. And though I can’t explain it, I know it’s right, and I feel it. For when I am afraid, or when I’m overwhelmed, I breathe. That advice holds true to take a moment and take a breath: my breath, the breath of the Spirit, the breath of God.

It is the in, out, in, out of life. It slows my anxious heart and opens me up, making room for others. It gives that space to love, a perfect love that casts out fear. Like those very first words of scripture, where in the beginning there was nothing but chaos, and then God breathed. Chaos is transformed by that breath into a world of beauty and possibility.

Easter begins in confusion and fear behind locked doors and comes to its conclusion in this breath of love promising possibility, peace, and love. In our own resurrection season, let us all be moved from fear to love.

Peace & Blessings, Dear Church,

Pastor Dave

Easter Blessings, Dear Church!

Thank you all very much for your warm birthday greetings, cards, cake, and well-wishes from yesterday. It was such a beautiful day to celebrate my birthday, and I’m thankful that the celebrations can continue! In what has now become a small tradition, my sisters returned the favor by gracing our front lawn with a massive yard-sign display!

My sisters also used to poke a little fun at the fact that my birthday fell on Earth Day by first wishing me a Happy Earth Day instead of Happy Birthday. But truly, I’ve come to love that I get to share this day in celebration of this gorgeous earth. I’ll even combine it and call it my Bearthday. 

Nature has always brought me solace. But there’s usually this assumption that accompanies those who love the outdoors. I used to buy into the assumption that the only way to love nature was in the extreme: the toughest hikes, the longest portages, the most remote lakes, the highest peaks. That to love nature, you had to push yourself to your limits and grind in order to achieve an appreciation of creation.

Now, I still enjoy hiking and getting out on the water in a canoe, but my definition of ‘what counts’ has changed. A hike is still a hike even if you don’t crest a summit. In fact, there’s something equally breathtaking in a lower route in a valley.

On a hike through a valley, following the mountain creek, you can almost feel the strength of the rising mountains on either side as if they were this weighted blanket holding us in close. Being nestled in the valley, with the inviting solidity of the peaks above, made it feel like being held in God’s hands.

We get to hear that most famous of psalms this weekend, and this feeling and view from this valley hike is what I imagine when I now hear Psalm 23. Thank you again, dear church, for all the warmth of your birthday greetings. 

Peace & Blessings, Dear Church,

Pastor Dave

Easter Blessings, Dear Church!

I’ve delved into another, rather large house project in these weeks after Easter, as it was time to give the boys' bathroom an upgrade. Sixty-year-old toilets, while technically functioning, certainly have their limits, as does the bathroom's other aging infrastructure.

I quickly learned why the various pieces of their bathroom had lasted for as long as they did. Nearly every variety of fastener ever conceived was used to hold this bathroom together. The drywall, cement board, medicine cabinet, vanity, and tub were all held in place by a combo of nails, screws, mortar, and construction adhesive.

As evident in the picture here, there are still parts of the tile and wall I need to remove. And my goodness, what a spectacular mess it’s making. But as I was busy swinging my hammer, trying to get full force from the various pry bars, I realized something. Projects like this are incredibly messy.

I know this may sound obvious; it is demolition work after all. But the revelation came as I realized that for the vast majority of creative endeavors, the work on a project gets messier and messier the further along it gets. It’s only in the last one, maybe two steps, where it finally looks like everything has come together. 

Just taking off the trim work in the bathroom immediately made the room feel massively incomplete, and for a home project, trim is usually one of the last steps! This process has been the same as each confirmation class has worked together to create the new Paschal Candle every year.

The candle always arrives clean and pristine; the first step is to completely cover it with tape. Then each subsequent step makes it look worse: we trace a design, gauge it out as we carve, splatter melted wax over it as color is added, and then all that wax gets smudged and smeared as the excess is scraped away.

And it’s here, with just one step remaining in the process, that the candle looks, honestly, in its roughest shape. But then, as the tape is removed, the final design and work are revealed. Every year, this process continues to astonish me. I also love that it’s a project completed by Easter because it reminds me of the resurrection.

In the story of Lazarus’ resurrection, Jesus arrives too late. Or at least that’s what we think. But arguably, Lazarus is in the roughest possible shape. Not only is he dead, but he has been in the tomb for four days. Then, as Jesus raises him from the dead, there is but one more step. Jesus tells those around Lazarus to remove the burial wrappings. It tells us that we have a part to play in the resurrection. Even Jesus’ own resurrection accounts mention the burial wrappings that are no longer upon Jesus.

As we continue to celebrate the resurrection, discovering what it means for us, how we are resurrected along with Christ, we discover just how messy a process resurrection can be. And more than just physical roughness, but emotional too. The stories of resurrection are fraught with cascading emotion, and the story this Sunday of the Road to Emmaus is no different.

Resurrection can certainly be a messy process. But I think that tends to mean the story isn’t yet over, the story isn’t yet complete. And as our resurrection stories continue, we meet Jesus along the way, who breaks bread with us to sustain us, lift us, and raise us up to continue the work of resurrection.

All that said, I’m still not a fan of a mess. Whether it’s me that’s a mess, a candle, or my bathroom, it still somehow feels wrong and out of place. But let us know that the mess is not the end, there is more work to be accomplished, and in it, life is always revealed. 

Peace & Blessings, Dear Church,

Pastor Dave

Easter Blessings, Dear Church!

First and foremost, thank you for a beautiful Holy Week. From the sacrament of Thursday, the darkness of Friday, to Saturday’s new Paschal light, it culminated in the bright Easter morning of resurrection promise. Throughout all that this past week has been, with all of its ups and downs, I have been captivated by the Artemis II Mission.

For the first time in my life, humans have traveled to the Moon. The images already coming back from the crew are breathtaking. But beyond the technical amazement and the fun I have following rocketry, this mission has continually highlighted our own humanity.

This is now the farthest that human beings have traveled from our planet, and somehow, from that gargantuan distance, we have seen ourselves with greater clarity. Early in the mission, Victor Glover reminded us that we see the Earth as one. In all the emptiness of space, we have this oasis, created for us, to be stewarded by us, where we get to exist together. What an opportunity to remember who we are.

And then, as the crew was in the lunar sphere of influence, becoming the furthest-traveled crew, they radioed down that they would like to name a previously unnamed crater on the Moon. The commander of the flight, Reid Wiseman, had lost his wife to cancer in 2020, and remembering the bright light she was in their lives, the crew wanted to name this bright spot on the Moon in her honor.

Looking back upon this big blue marble, upon everyone who had ever existed, we saw a depth of humanity that we all experience yet rarely get a chance to acknowledge. As we continue in this Easter Season, believing in the resurrection and knowing that love has triumphed over death, I am grateful to have been reminded of this truth here in our LCM community and even from the Moon. I wish you all continued Easter joy, dear church. Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

Peace & Blessings, Dear Church,

Pastor Dave