My return to the Peace Lutheran Church pulpit

When Jesus returned to preach in his hometown of Nazareth, people tried to throw him off a cliff—proof of Jesus' assertion that no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown.

On Wednesday night, I preached my first sermon at my home church since starting at Luther Seminary, and judging from all the smiles, handshakes and compliments people gave me, I'm apparently not a prophet. But even without any inaugural attempt on my life, by cliff-throw or otherwise, it was easily one of the greatest experiences I've ever had.

It technically wasn't my first sermon at my home congrgegation, Peace Lutheran Church in Green Bay, Wis. As a junior in high school, I "preached" on Thanksgiving Eve 1997 to share my thankfulness to God after surviving a nearly fatal allergic reaction on the previous Thanksgiving Eve in 1996. Wednesday's Thanksgiving Eve service marked the 10th anniversary of that first sermon, and my dad (the pastor at my home church) said I could preach again.

This time, I actually preached on a Gospel text, Jesus' healing of the 10 lepers in Luke 17:11-19. And given that the text involved a Samaritan leper returning to Jesus in thanks, I took the opportunity of my return to the pulpit to thank the people at Peace. For one thing, their financial support and prayers since I decided two years ago to attend seminary have been crucial for Tracy and me. And it was largely because of the encouragement that they gave me after my sermon 10 years ago that I eventually realized that God was calling me to be a pastor.

That call came through no one more clearly or persistently than Ken Jensen, a gifted salesman and the chairman of the call committee that brought my dad to Peace in 1988. Ken told me many times, even after I had settled on a career as a newspaper reporter, that I would make a great pastor, and I don't think I would have ever decided to pursue ordained ministry without him. I was so excited to have him cheering me on again on Wednesday night that I had to get a photo with him after the service.

It was a real honor to be in the presence of so many people who have supported me for a long time and to be able to thank them and serve them in this little way. It was also exciting to greet many people I didn't know—folks who have joined the church in recent years and people who were visiting. The compliments from so many people meant a lot, particularly since I felt like I could have done a better job preparing my sermon. I spent a ton of time on it since I really wanted it to be good, but, as usual, I was working on it right down to the wire. Based on their reaction, I think I did my job as a preacher to deliver the good news of Jesus Christ to these people. (The only criticism I heard all night was about my beard.)

The real highlight for me ended up being the children's sermon, in which I told an overwhelming number of polite, wide-eyed girls and boys about my thankfulness after surviving that allergic reaction 11 years ago, before virtually any of them were born. Recounting that and explaining how it had led me to wear the shirt with the funny collar that night, I was continually on the verge of tears.

Getting to wear that collar alongside my dad for the first time was another indescribable honor. I felt so proud as we faced the altar and processed to the back of the sanctuary together during the last hymn. Making it extra special was the presence of many other family members, including my Grandpa Don, who recently had his own survival story, and my Uncle Mark, the other pastor in my family and another person who factored greatly into my call to ordained ministry. That's my dad, my Uncle Mark and me in the photo at the top of this entry. I think I'm going to get that photo framed.