Prayer Workshop

As a person involved in ministry is it not often that you are invited to attend a free workshop that is relevant to your area. A prayer workshop for youth came across my e-mail about two weeks ago. It was on a Wednesday, which is usually a work day; it was free, which made if affordable; and it was geared towards a needed area in the spiritual lives of youth- I decided I was going! The workshop took place out at the Christos Center in Lino Lakes, which is a spiritual retreat center. They offer spiritual guidance, Sabbath retreat space, and other spiritual resources. Our class was taught by Patricia Hendricks, the author of Hungry Souls, Holy Companions:mentoring a new generation of Christians.

I was gathered around a table with 12 other individuals who were either volunteers with youth, pastors, or youth leaders. We discussed the importance of helping youth pray in ways that are meaningful to them, and the different ways to make prayer relevant to their understandings. For the second part of the workshop we were given the opportunity to experience 7 different prayer stations. Each one was a different modality which invited the participant to dwell on different aspects of faith. One station was a finger labyrinth, another was an art station, among others. My favorite prayer station used the idea of baptism. The participant was invited to write a sin or something that they were ashamed of on an alka seltzer and drop it in a glass of water. As the tablet fizzed, you are reminded of how we are washed clean through our baptism. I look forward to using some of the practices with the youth that I encounter in ministry.

Stand up, Stand up for Jesus (but wait your turn)

I was almost beginning to regret my decision to attend this weekend's retreat near Waupaca, Wis. The minute that Tracy and I set foot onto Pine Lake Camp, we learned that because of the number of married couples attending, we were going to have to be split up into men's and women's dorms. Then, after dividing up our bedding and sitting down at the opening session, I proceeded to make an idiot out of myself.

The chairwoman of the ELCA's Eastern Wisconsin multi-synodical candidacy committee, which determines whether I and other regional seminarians are fit to proceed into the ministry, had invited the committee members to stand up and introduce themselves. Unfortunately, I failed to hear her qualify that it was only the committee members who should stand up. Tracy and I were sitting just to the right of the leftmost person in the room, and as that man (of course, a member of the candidacy committee) finished introducing himself, I stood up and started to talk.

Then Tracy began whispering to me: "Honey, it's just the committee members." I leaned over as she told me again, and I tried to pretend I was standing up for some reasonable reason. Alas, I could not hide from my stupidity. When it was finally time for the candidates to introduce themselves, Pastor Zamzow, the chairwoman, jokingly whispered to me, "Now, you can stand up." Indeed, I could not escape from my embarrassing error. So after identifying myself, I introduced Tracy as "my wife, who tells me when and when not to stand up and talk."

Given the fact that I survived this with minimal teasing (including from the bishop) for the remaining 22 hours of the retreat, there were several valuable lessons from this, including:

1. Always be willing to laugh at yourself, affirm your stupidity and run with it rather than trying to cover it up (I learned this while doing improv at ComedyCity).
2. Always give your wife credit, particularly when she keeps you afloat in life on a daily basis.
3. Lutherans are forgiving people.
4. Keep sitting until you're darn sure you're supposed to stand up (Lutherans seem to be very mindful of this during worship services).
   
5. Listen.

In my first interview with the candidacy committee a year ago (a year ago today, actually), I identified listening as one area in which I needed to grow to become a good pastor. As I proved this weekend, I still need to keep working at it. I don't know what I was thinking about (or, more likely, worrying about, with final papers coming up) at the time, but if I would have been paying better attention, I wouldn't have suffered this mild humiliation in the first place.

Whereas I must keep striving to be a better listener, I learned my lesson well enough for the retreat to become a really terrific experience, rather than the nightmare it started out to be. I really got a lot out of the presentations about "the Green Church" and the worship services (with genuine hugs in lieu of handshakes during the sharing of the peace), and better yet, had a great time talking with a bunch of great people — of course, it really does help when you listen to them. (I will admit to doing my best not to listen to the snores of the guys in the dorm overnight).

I got to know a bunch of Luther students whom I had never interacted with, as well as some students from other ELCA seminaries. And, adding to this academic year's string of amazing little "coincidences," one of the incoming seminarians who received initial approval from the committee on Friday ended up being the brother of one of my longtime friends and ComedyCity teammates from Green Bay. John (that's him with me in the photo) couldn't be any more like his brother, Matt — except if his hair was curlier and he had a more traditional pair of glasses — and it was really fantastic to see him channeling his very similar talents and infectious personality toward ministry.

Throw in a stop at the nearby Red Mill gift shop, where the kindly owner gave Tracy and me the magical experience of witnessing two rare, self-playing piano/organs in action, and it was pretty much the best two-day trip anybody could ask for. All things considered, I'll gladly stand behind my decision to attend ... assuming it really is my turn to stand, of course.

I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane

I have been reluctant to update all of the Life at Luther blog readers about what has been happening in my life lately for two reason:

1) The day to day activity in my life has not been particularly exciting--class, class, class, homework, homework, homework.

2) EXCEPT for the fact that I have been in the midst of talking with the call-committee of a potential congregation over the phone. I haven't wanted to write about that because I have had no idea what the future might hold in that area of my life.

Well, I am still not sure what the future might hold in that area of my life, but I do now know for sure that Kevin and I will be flying out to California next weekend to see the area, to meet the call committee and the senior pastor, and to have a real, face-to-face, sit-down interview with them. I'm excited, but also trying to be patient, because I know that I have to trust the Holy Spirit to guide this process. I think that I can speak for many seniors who are at this stage of the process when I say that being in the midst of this time of transition can cause quite a roller coaster of emotions: elation, confusion, anxiety, hope, etc.

The bottom line for me is that I don't have any clue where I am going to live and what I am going to be doing after I graduate from seminary--which is exactly one month from today I might add. It is during these times, when I feel so out of control of my future, that I am forced to realize that I am never really in control of my life at all--past, present, or future--no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise. It is during these times of waiting that I seem best able to recognize that my faith cannot rest in myself or my own capabilities, or even in the people around me, but rather that my faith rests in the God who comes to us. I have often heard the phrase that the only certainty in life is uncertainty. I would venture to take that statement one step further and say that I believe the only certainty in life might be uncertainty but that, even in the midst of that uncertainty, God is always faithful.

Consider me catechized!

It's done. This morning, I passed the exam on the Small Catechism.

I have to say, it wasn't always pretty. Marney, the Ph.D. student proctor, had to feed me a word a couple of times when my mind went blank under the pressure (not that there was that much pressure — Marney was casually enjoying a bit of breakfast and kindly affirming me with a regular "uh-huh"). But the big memorization ordeal is over nonetheless.

If you don't know what I'm talking about (reading my last entry might help, too), the dozens and dozens of students in my Lutheran Confessional Writings class had to memorize Martin Luther's Small Catechism and recite it (or randomly selected parts of it), orally or in writing, by today. In the last week, the little, orange catechism book has been the hottest spring fashion item at Luther Seminary. You could spot almost as many of those bad boys in the hands of anxious students as there were squirrels jumping around the seminary vegetation.

Speaking of cute, free-roaming animals, I took a picture of this cat, which is always walking around and meowing outside my apartment building, while staging pictures of the catechism booklet on my patio. I liked the cat picture better, so here you are. There's a small amount of relevance. Since the day that I started working on the catechism, I have been inexplicably sneezing. I remarked to my wife that since I'm allergic to cats, maybe I'm also allergic to catechisms. More likely, it's a cold that has been ailing me. But ever since I finished reciting the catechism this morning, my nasal passages have been A-OK.

At any rate, I wanted to share with you the great amount of relief I feel. There is still a lot of work to do in the next month, but this is a big load off. I'll really have to make a conscious effort not to forget everything I memorized, though. There is a lot of really good stuff in the Small Catechism that I hope I never forget.

I have a feeling that the parts which I memorized to music — whether songs from a musical catechism CD that has been floating around campus, tunes of famous songs that fit for some reason or random melodies that I created to fit the words — won't be leaving me anytime soon. I wish I could have taken the time to put the whole thing (and the titles of the Augsburg Confession, which we also had to memorize) to music, but that would have taken forever.

I realized in the exam that I could definitely recall the musical parts much better. Well, there was the point when I got ahead of myself with the excerpt from Titus 3 and had to restart my arrangement to the old 1960s "Batman" theme in my head to remember what came next. And when I accidentally skipped a piece of the Lord's Prayer's First Petition , which I memorized somewhat awkwardly to the tune of "One (is the loneliest number)." I learned a long time ago that I memorized things to music really well. How else could I still be able to recite McDonald's entire circa-1988 menu? Thanks, McDonald's Menu Song! Hey, now that I think of it, I wouldn't mind celebrating all this with McDLT.

Well, shucks. Looks like they stopped serving those in 1990.

Cross-Cultural Dialogue in an Unlikely Setting

My intention in going to the Bockman Hall basement on campus was to try and get some homework done. But right smack in the middle of writing a paper on biblical interpretation in American churches I was drawn into a conversation with two of my classmates who also happen to be international students from Africa. The discussion began simply enough. I shared with them that I am taking a class on African Traditional Religions. They shared with me about their experiences of being students from Africa at Luther Seminary. I shared with them that I am curious about what relationships are like between Christian denominations in Africa. They shared with me some of their own stories and experiences of being Christians in a part of the world where Christianity is growing at an exponential rate.

As they took turns sharing I was captivated by the fact that I see these two men on a regular basis and yet I had never actually had a conversation with either of them about these issues before. Listening to them also made me realize that I have so much to learn from them. Studying these things in a class in one thing. Hearing my colleague share his story of attending a Baptist seminary in Africa and now a Lutheran seminary in MN and what that has been like for him made issues of the history of Christian mission work in Africa as well as the struggles of African churches today. It made my learning come alive for me in new ways. It made me realize that we are quite blessed at Luther to have students from all around the world in our midst-- to share their insights and experiences to teach us about ministry in ever expanding global church. I hope and pray that we can take time to listen to our brothers and sisters in Christ who come from places with which we may be unfamiliar and that they can help us to see Christ in new ways and new places. And I thank my friends for taking the time to share their stories with me as we sat at the computers in the Bockman Hall basement. It might not have been on the schedule, but it was well worth the time for me.

Worship Space Everywhere (Part 3 of 3)

The Lutheran understanding of God’s work in the world proclaims that God’s Word, the Gospel, gathers the church, and not a building, as I argued in Part 2 of this series. In Part 1, I drew a similar conclusion from several scripture passages. In Part 3, I will delineate several practical reasons compelling congregations to consider moving forward without bricks and mortar.

First, a congregation without a building must meet to worship, preach, and teach in public spaces. This counteracts the habit of Christians to make their faith a private affair. Their worship and education will burst out of the confines of a sanctuary into the public square where anyone passing by may see and hear. We need not be ashamed of the Gospel but should proudly offer open witness to it in parks, schools, meeting halls, libraries, and other public forums. Congregations would go to where the people are.

Second, proclaiming God’s Word in preaching and the sacrament outside a church building concretely states that God’s Word and God’s people live out their Christian lives and vocations in the world. Whenever and wherever they share God’s Word, that time and place becomes holy; it becomes a time and place for the Holy Spirit to work. By holding worship and education outside of a church building one proclaims that the Christian life is lived outside a church building. Christian education would become increasingly germane because it would occur at the locations of people’s work and play.

Third, the absence of a church building allows a congregation to spend more of its money on ministry of and for people. Some may argue that a church building is a ministry by providing a place for people to gather. In many places that may be so, and a church building would be necessary. I counter, however, with two observations: one, in most of our communities, the need for meeting places is sufficiently met by other establishments; two, church buildings in themselves do not proclaim the Gospel, only people can do that. What, then, is more important, building up a people or constructing a building? For the ministry of the Gospel, only people are necessary and sufficient.

Fourth, communication limitations that may have necessitated a central location have largely been overcome by mobile phones, email, and the internet. Bulletin boards today do not require a wall on which to hang. They are online. The absence of a building along with these communication technologies allows congregations to respond quickly to community needs and happenings. Congregations cannot say, “That’s the way we’ve always done it here,” when there is no “here.” There is only the Word of God and the people God’s Word has gathered.

The Bible and Lutheran confessions clearly state that congregations do not require church buildings. An honest look at the closeted nature of many Christian faith lives should cause one to question whether a congregation ought to shut themselves up in a church building. The Good News requires that we share it. Moving a congregation forward without a building might be the radical step needed to live out that mandate.

Worship Space Everywhere (Part 2 of 3)

In Part 1 of this series I noted some scripture passages that would suggest a church building is not necessary. God nor Jesus requires one according to the biblical witness. In Part 2, I will discuss some Lutheran reasons why congregations need not build a sanctuary for worship.

What makes a congregation? It is certainly not a building. The Holy Spirit calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies the church wherever and whenever “the gospel is taught purely and the sacraments are administered rightly.”* God is present wherever God’s Word, Jesus Christ, is present. Wherever God’s Word is, there the church is also.

No church building is holy in itself. No place has intrinsic holiness. What, then, makes a holy place? “Nothing else than devoting it to holy words, holy works, and holy living,”† Martin Luther declares in his Large Catechism regarding special days and times. But his argument holds for places as well. Wherever God’s Word is proclaimed to God’s children is a holy place. In our time, church buildings have become a form of social “dress-up”. When one wants to act holy or feel holy one goes to a holy place. One “wears” a church building like nice clothes in order to experience holiness. But how do we really become holy? “Not when we…place a garland on our head and dress up in our best clothes, but as has been said, when we make use of God’s Word and exercise ourselves in it.”§ As Melancthon (another Lutheran theologian) notes in the Apology (an explanation of the Lutheran confessions), “The true adornment of the churches,” and of oneself, “is godly, useful, and clear doctrine, the devout use of sacraments, ardent prayer, and the like.”° God’s Word, in preaching and the sacraments, are all that is necessary to make a holy people.

The Lutheran confessions affirm church buildings do not make a holy people but only God’s Word does this. One must ask the question then: have church buildings become impediments to God’s Word and hindered the gathering of God’s people? How might a congregation without walls share the Gospel in their words and actions better than one within the confines of a building? I will cover this in Part 3 of this series.

* Augsburg Confession, Latin translation part 7: marginal numbers 1-4, in the Book of Concord (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2000), p. 43.
† Large Catechism, part 1: marginal number 87, in Book of Concord (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2000), p. 398.
§ Large Catechism, part 1: marginal number 88, in Book of Concord (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2000), p. 398.
° Apology to the Augsburg Confession, part 24: marginal number 51, in Book of Concord (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2000), p. 267.

(Click the following link for a pdf copy of the Lutheran Confessions as compiled in the Book of Concord or check out www.bookofconcord.org. Note, however, these translations differ from the edition I site in my blog.)

A Day Alone in the Twin Cities

I dropped Kevin off at the airport at 8 am Sunday morning. He would be gone for a couple of days. So after we said our goodbyes, I drove off and realized that I had an entire day all to myself to do whatever I wanted in the Twin Cities. Of course I missed Kevin, but at the same time there was something incredibly exciting about having a whole, unplanned day ahead of me. I had no obligations to anyone else at all, nor any of the normal distractions--not even by way of the cell phone which Kevin had taken with him on his trip. I could get my much needed, and often ignored, introvert time. I could curl up in a coffee shop or cafe and read a whole book if I wanted, or spend the day riding my bike along the river in the amazing spring sunshine, or I could go home, put on my pajamas, watch movies and knit all day. I could go to a museum or an art gallery; the possibilities seemed endless right then.

However, being the responsible young lady that I am (hey, it's true some of the time!), I decided that I should try and use at least a good portion of my Sunday to do some much needed homework, so I went with the first option. On the drive home, I spontaneously decided to skip church (I know, I know, but at least I was doing homework!) and spend the morning in a cute little cafe in St. Paul reading a novel that is assigned for my Traditional African Religions class. It felt so relaxing to take the morning to sit with a pot of tea and read a book--no schedule to follow, nowhere else that I needed to be except right there. Maybe it would help one to understand why this is so odd for me if I explain that I'm usually the type of person who unintentionally schedules every spare moment in my life for some reason. It's a habit of mine that I am trying to break. It comes and goes. I guess I just like being busy. If I am not in class or at work, I am doing homework, singing in a choir, working out at the gym, babysitting, tutoring at the Riverview Library, moonlighting at my other job, teaching a knitting class, whatever. So it felt incredibly indulgent to give myself this time to just sit and read for however long I wanted. In retrospect, I believe that I was doing what is popularly known at the seminary as self-care. It felt good.

After I felt I had worn out my welcome at that coffee shop, I stopped home to pick up some more homework and went along to another coffee shop in Minneapolis, which had outdoor seating (even better!). After a few hours there, I stopped at a craft store for some yarn, headed home again for a little while, then decided to go out to a diner in another part of St. Paul for dinner and more studying. It was right about then that I realized that I had not really had a conversation with anyone all day. I mean I had spoken with servers and such when I ordered tea or the veggie burger that I had for dinner, but other than that I had spent the day quietly reading, immersed in what I was learning. I can't remember the last time I had a day that serene and reflective and I have to admit it was very nice and grounding for me. Generally, I do consider myself an extrovert. I like being around people and meeting new people. But every once in awhile I just need time to be alone and think. Of course, come evening the extrovert was back and I was in the mood to finally do something with friends, but no one was available! Just my luck! Thank goodness that one friend was just getting home when I stopped by her place, so I at least could catch up a little with her before calling it a night.

Worship Space Everywhere (Part 1 of 3)

I’ve heard of a congregation who raised $60,000 in two weeks when the property committee announced it needed funds to fix the leaking roof. Yet, that same congregation could not find $2,500 to purchase health coverage for their full-time Christian education director. I heard of a congregation of over 800 members with over $500,000 in revenue spend a third of its annual budget on mortgage payments. This same congregation’s council members debated totally cutting benevolence giving for the community and the larger church in order to balance the budget. Where are these people’s priorities? Was their building a tool or a shackle upon ministry? It seems once they had been a people with a building to support them, now they had become a building with some people to support it.

As this case suggests, rather than becoming a fountain for the outpouring of God’s Word, a church building may degenerate into a prison, holding God’s Word and God’s people captive inside its walls. Given this danger, is a church building necessary? In this series I will offer biblical, confessional, and practical reasons for growing a congregation without a church building.

God does not require a building. When King David had become settled in his house, he thought he ought to build a house for God as well. God responded to David’s plans through the prophet Nathan, “Are you the one to build me a house to live in?” [2 Samuel 7:5]. No, God did not need David to build him a house, rather, God said, “The LORD declares to you that the LORD will make you a house,” [2 Samuel 7:11]. It is God who builds a people and their dwelling places, not the opposite. The prophet Isaiah comments:

“Thus says the Lord: Heaven is my throne and the earth is my footstool; what is the house that you would build for me, and what is my resting place? All these things my hand has made, and so all these things are mine, says the Lord. But this is the one to whom I will look, to the humble and contrite in spirit, who trembles at my word.” [Isaiah 66:1-2]

God’s realm is the entirety of creation. Who are we to presume that we can construct a special place for God to reside? God does not look upon those who make a special place. God looks upon those who revere God’s Word.

Jesus did not require a building. Jesus did a majority of his preaching and teaching outside of the confines of religious edifices. Furthermore, Jesus’ presence does not rest in any particular place. He promised to be amongst those who speak his name [Matthew 28:20], at the Lord’s Supper [Matthew 26:26-28], and in baptism [Matthew 28:19-20; Romans 6:3-4]. The old building of God’s presence, the temple, Jesus destroyed and rebuilt in his body [John 2:19-22]. Indeed whoever has received the Holy Spirit and has joined the Body of Christ has become a temple of the Lord [1 Corinthians 3:6-7]. And it is the Word of God who bestows the Holy Spirit and makes one an heir of Christ, not membership in a church building.

A Small Cataclysm

I'm once again a bit belated with my blogging, and I have no one to blame but myself.

Oh, and Martin Luther. I'll blame him, too.

For the past week or so, my mind, in seemingly every spare moment, has been consumed with memorizing the Small Catechism, Luther's masterwork for instruction of the everyday Christian. I have to memorize it for my Lutheran Confessional Writings course. The deadline is a week from today.

This morning, I finished memorizing Luther's plain-spoken analysis of the Apostles' Creed. I still have to memorize Luther's commentaries on the Lord's Prayer, Baptism, Communion and, of course, the Office of the Keys. A long way to go, for sure. I wouldn't have waited so long to start on this, except I was waiting to pick up my dad's copy of the little, orange catechism booklet when I was in Green Bay two weeks ago — to save myself, oh, about a dollar.

So what does this have to do with the picture of a bunch of kids holding up their spoils at the conclusion of an Easter Sunday egg hunt? (That is what the picture is of, by the way.) Well, because pretty much every kid in the picture could run circles around me when it comes to the Small Catechism.

I spent much of my Easter break memorizing the section on the Ten Commandments, and Tracy and I spent much of that Easter break in Tracy's hometown of Cedarburg, Wis. As I was working on the memorization, I learned that pretty much everyone in my wife's family had memorized the catechism when they were in grade school. They're Missouri Synod Lutherans, and my wife and her mom, aunts, uncles and many cousins attended their church's school through eighth grade.

I, on the other hand, went to public school. And even though I was a pastor's kid, I never dug so deeply into the Small Catechism as to memorize it. In confirmation, my dad taught the catechism to my classmates and me, but he saw to it that we understood the ideas without making us memorize the entire Small Catechism (which, by the way, is really not that small).

But that doesn't cut it for a seminarian ... or, as it turns out, for a fifth-grader in my wife's church. It was one thing to have Tracy randomly reciting pieces of the catechism to me or to have her mom, Ellen, chime in along with me when I was reciting the commandments in the back seat of my in-laws' truck. It was quite another thing to have my wife's cousin, Jonathan, fresh from an Easter Sunday game of Twister (he was calling out colors and limbs in place of a missing spinner) sit down next to me and ask what I was doing with the little, orange booklet.

I was memorizing the Small Catechism, I said. Turns out Jonathan was doing the same, along with his fifth-grade class. Doubting that at his age he had to memorize all of Luther's explanations, I asked him whether he only had to memorize the commandments, creed, and prayer themselves.

"No," he said. "My teacher figured we already knew those."

Arrgh.

Unfortunately, the kids learn a different translation, so Jonathan can't help me. Guess I'll have to keep reciting the catechism in my head endlessly, listening to the cheesy, pop-music rendition that has made a long-term home in my car's CD player and employing whatever other means necessary. This is most certainly true.

Oh, sorry — not sure how that last sentence got in there.

Lutheran Thoughts on the Lord's Prayer

Lent has got me thinking about the Lord's Prayer and my education concerning said prayer. Who knew that a command was such a beautiful gift?

"One day Jesus was praying in a certain place. When he finished, one of his disciples said to him, 'Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.' He said to them, 'When you pray, say..." [Luke 11:1-2]

With these words Jesus commands us to pray. Jesus does not say, "If you pray..." or "One may pray..." He gives a direction, "When you pray..." pray in this manner—and the Lord's prayer follows (Luke 11:2-4 and Matthew 6:9-13).

What does it mean that Jesus commands you to pray? Does it mean he requires your prayers or that you must satisfy God with your prayers? Certainly not. Jesus' command is a gift to you for four reasons:

1. Jesus commanded you to pray so you know that he hears your prayers. You have free reign to stuff his email box with your every little need because he commanded you to do it. In his command he promises he will attend to your voice. When you doubt whether Jesus is listening to you, trust the promise in this command that, indeed, Jesus hears you.
2. Jesus commanded you to pray because you are one of God's children. Just as loving moms and dads ask their children, "How was school today?" Jesus tells you through this command that he wants to hear from you, one of God's sons or daughters. He cares deeply about you, the joyful longings of your heart, and the fearful questions in your soul.
3. Jesus commanded you to pray so that your dependence on God did not depend on your feelings. When do you need God? Always. When do you feel like you need God? Sometimes. Your feelings are fickle. God is not. Jesus commanded you to pray to promise you that God is always there hearing you, supporting you, and transforming you, even when you don't feel like it.
4. Jesus commanded you to pray and then taught you how. He did not leave you stranded without any words to offer. When you have no thoughts in your head and only pain or joy in your heart, Jesus says, pray this way...

Our Father in heaven

• Jesus wants you to know that you are addressing your prayer to God who loves you and listens attentively to you as a devoted father and a nurturing mother do.

Hallowed be your name

• God's name is holy because God has power. God is alive and working in the world. God will change your life. The Holy God will make you clean and unblemished. The God who hears your prayer is mighty and will respond to you with strength.

Your Kingdom come

• God's kingdom is breaking into this world every day. In this prayer, you ask that it might become more and more real in your life and in the lives of those around you.

You will be done on earth as in heaven

• God and God's people work every day to hinder evil, promote life, and spread the goodness of God's kingdom to everyone. In this prayer, you ask that you might be a part of bringing this about.

Give us today our daily bread

• God cares about all the things you need for this life: food, clothing, a good home, useful work, an upright family, a trustworthy government, loyal friends, and everything else. God cares about the nitty gritty of your here and now. In this prayer, you ask that you might have what you need, but you also acknoledge that all these things come from God.

Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us

• When God hears your prayer, God will not hold your sins against you. God listens intently to the cares of your heart despite your sinfulness. Therefore, you pray that you may also forgive and do good to others.

Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil

• God knows times will come when you will suffer. God does not abandon you; Jesus wants you to pray to him especially during times of hardship. In this prayer, you trust that God is present and will help you, even at the hour of death itself, taking your pain into himself and raising you to new life.

For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours, now and forever. Amen.

• "Amen" means, "Yes, it will happen." God has commanded you to pray and you can have complete assurance God has heard you. So when you pray, pray with confidence. God is good and God listens to your prayer.

Jesus Christ's Last Will and Testament

Holy Thursday

Today we celebrate the Last Supper, the night in which Jesus Christ instituted the Lord's Supper. The apostles Matthew, Mark, Luke, and Paul all record this event. We do not celebrate it, however, simply to reenact what Jesus and the disciples did. We remember the Last Supper because after this regular meal Jesus did a rather extraordinary thing. He began to distribute the inheritance of his last will and testament.

Most bible translations render Jesus’ words this way:

“Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed, and broke it, and gave it to the disciples and said, ‘Take, eat; this is my body.’ And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them saying, ‘Drink of it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant [testament] which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” [Matthew 26:26-28]

The word “covenant” may also be fairly translated “testament”, as in Jesus’ last will and testament. Jesus knows Judas will betray him. He knows Peter, his most zealous follower, will deny him. Jesus is about to die so he is writing his will and passing out his inheritance, his very life, to the very people who are about to hand him over to his death.

Jesus is still distributing his inheritance, his life, his body and blood, to his betrayers. He still passes the bread and the cup to you and me.

You become Christ-like when Christ gives you his very flesh and blood in the Lord's Supper. In, with, and under the bread and wine Christ gives to you his heart and soul, his life and love, his Spirit and all the possessions of God the Father. And to whom does Christ distribute this inheritance? To sinners like you and me. Tomorrow as we look to the cross, we remember that Christ took our sinful death into himself and died. Today, before his death, we remember Christ wills that we should receive his life.