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From the front of the room at the 32nd Grand Canyon Synod Assembly this past weekend, I had an overwhelming sense of Holy Spirit’s presence. Friends greeting one another by name. New faces sparking conversation. Volunteers and staff serving with pride. While we spoke of singing a new song, I was also listening for new songs.

Once a year, in Minnesota, my family gathers together for an annual camping outing. While every family is unique and might have different traditions, family reunions are a way to make new memories together and remember what is most important in life.

Synod Assembly is the one time of year that our synod family gets together. Where we can dwell on what this work is really about.

I am flooded with joy thinking of the special traditions and celebrations that have just taken place across the Synod this past Holy Week. Thank you for proclaiming the new life and hope of life in Jesus into the hearts and spirits of so many. 

I am also reminded that the very first Easter was something much different. As they went to the tomb, the followers of Jesus might have felt that they were abandoned by God and that death had the last word.

Dear Church: This past weekend the ELCA Church Council met in Chicago. They decided not to consider for adoption a document entitled, “Trustworthy Servants of the People of God,” which had been recommended to them by the Conference of Bishops. Instead, they chose to refer this document back to the Domestic Mission Unit of the Churchwide office for further work and redrafting in alignment with the social teachings of the ELCA. In addition, the Church Council asked that a process be used by Domestic Mission which intentionally includes more diverse voices, especially those who perceive they were most harmed by the misuse of the current document, Vision and Expectations in the past.

Mitch was at the lowest point of his life. From the age of 15, he had struggled with addiction to drugs and alcohol. He was involved in crime, unable to hold a job, and had reached the point that even his loyal wife had given up hope. His cycle of recovery and relapse had continued year after year to the point that he was alone. 

One of my favorite Lenten memories is as a little girl growing up in St. Paul, Minnesota. My congregation, Arlington Hills, hosted a weekly 6:30 a.m. breakfast and bible study to nourish body and soul. On Friday mornings, I would walk to my friends homes to pick them up.   

Looking back on these memories has caused me to ponder the different ways that we invite others to come to Christ’s community.

Back in 1994, before I attended seminary, I was working at a church in the Midwest as the parish life coordinator. In many ways, it was a dream job. I felt called to do this work.

Toward the end of my first year in the position, conflict began to brew. Some church leaders did not agree with how the pastor and staff (of which I was a part) were going about the work of the church and outreach efforts. It was ugly. It felt personal.

What is a vocation? I used to think that a vocation was some big thing. A one true grand calling in life with which we are somehow anointed.  But as I reflect on this quote from Martin Luther during this season of Epiphany, I am reminded that this is not the case. 

Any work done in faith can be a vocation. We are all made holy through baptism in Christ to do holy work.