School of Jesus

When my kids were young-ish, I subjected them to one hour per week of what they referred to as the “School of Dad.” We explored topics that they wouldn’t necessarily learn in school. For my girls, I taught subjects such as: how to change a tire, how to start a campfire, how to drive a tractor. For my boys, I taught them how to fold a napkin three different ways, how to talk to girls (needed a guest speaker for that one), and how to walk quietly up stairs so as not to awaken others. 

My process for teaching was consistent. I would tell them what I was going to do and why it was important. I would then have them watch me do the thing. Then I would watch them do the thing. And finally, I would set them loose into the world to change tires and start fires and drive tractors, and fold napkins and talk to girls and sneak up stairs all by themselves. It seemed to work out pretty well for all of us, and actually, this pedagogy isn’t altogether different from that of Jesus.  

There’s a familiar story in the Bible about bread and fish. I assume that most of you know the story, but I wonder whether you have noticed one small but extraordinarily important detail. Here’s how the story goes in the Gospel of Matthew… 

Jesus withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick. As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a remote place, and it’s already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.” Jesus replied, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.” “We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered. “Bring them here to me,” he said. And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. They all ate and were satisfied. (Matthew 14:13-20, text emboldened by me)

We are accustomed to using this story of the miracle of the loaves and fishes to talk about the divinity of Jesus and of his unique ability to meet the physical and spiritual needs of people. What I find so interesting, however, is that if you read the passage carefully, you notice that Jesus invites his disciples into the miracle. In other words, it’s not just Jesus who pulls the miracle off. At first he tells the disciples to feed the crowds. When the disciples object, he then shows them what he’s talking about – he blesses the food and then, once again, gives the disciples another chance to join in. Jesus gives the loaves and fishes to the disciples so that they would, in turn, give it to the hungry people.

This pattern of Jesus’ ministry is clear. He tells his disciples about the Kingdom of God. Then he engages in behavior consistent with the Kingdom, acts of justice and mercy and compassion, all the while encouraging his disciples to watch what he does. Finally, Jesus invites those same disciples to do pretty much the exact same things that he just did.  And there you have it: the School of Jesus.

You know what?  The School of Jesus was really small at first. But those first students really took to it. They learned to walk in the ways of Jesus, and it changed the world. And modern day disciples, like so many of you at St. John in the Wilderness, are doing the same. You are listening to the words of Jesus and watching what he does so that you too become empowered to proclaim the same good news with your own words and actions.  

As important as the School of Dad was in helping my kids become decent and competent human beings, the School of Jesus is so much more so, helping us live into God’s dream for our lives that we might became agents of love in this unfathomably beautiful but broken world.

~Art

Witnesses to Our Faith

While today is obviously Halloween, it is also the feast day of Paul Shinji Sasaki and Philip Lindel Tsen. These two men lived in Asia in the 1940’s and witnessed to their faith at a politically tumultuous time in Japan and China.

Paul Sasaki was a bishop of Nippon Sei Ko Kei (a member church of the Anglican Communion) in Japan. Navigating Christian mission work in the Japanese context became difficult as World War II approached and it became clear that Japan was to be at war with the West. The Japanese government ordered all Christians into a “united church” regardless of differences in doctrine or polity. Bishop Paul Sasaki refused and inspired most of the Nippon Sei Ko Kei Church to stay together and remain faithful to their Anglican heritage. He was arrested, imprisoned and tortured for his actions, but after the war, his courageous witness became a rallying point for the rebuilding of the church.

Lindel Tsen was raised by Episcopal Church missionaries, and after his ordination, worked closely with Canadian missionaries in China. During the Sino-Japanese War, he worked to sustain the people of his area. When the war was over, he became the leader for the Chinese Anglican Church. Returning from the Lambeth Conference in 1948, Tsen was put under house arrest by the Communist authorities.

Both of these men experienced the hard truth that serving God and faithfully engaging in the work of God’s Kingdom may result in conflict with the powers and principalities of this world. Indeed, the ministries of Paul Sasaki and Lindel Tsen were modeled on that of Jesus himself whose obedient and faithful service to God’s Kingdom made him a target for both the religious and political leaders of his own time.

All of this comes as a reminder that, ultimately, our allegiance is to God, and we may very well be called upon to witness to our faith in courageous ways before those with immense earthly power. Many Episcopal bishops in our own day, including Craig Loya, Mariann Budde, and Presiding Bishop Sean Rowe are faithfully leading the way. May God continue to give them the courage and strength to persist. And may God give us all the courage and strength to follow their lead and that of Christ himself.

Almighty God, we thank you for the faith and witness of Paul Sasaki, bishop in the Nippon Sei Ko Kai, tortured and imprisoned by his government, and Philip Tsen. leader of the Chinese Anglican Church, arrested for his faith. We pray that all Church leaders oppressed by hostile governments may be delivered by your mercy, and that by the power of the Holy Spirit we may be faithful to the Gospel of our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. (from Holy Women, Holy Men, Celebrating the Saints, 2010).

~Art

Everything is Transformed

Nearly every morning, I take a hike with my dog Bernie.  It’s a time for me to connect to God through the natural world. It’s a chance each day for me to remember that I am loved by the Creator and that all of creation is loved as well. It is a time of blessing and helps me get ready for my busy day. 

In the last week, the fall colors have been magnificent! Now, however, the scarlet and yellow leaves are falling, and the woods express a different shape and tone. The trunks of trees once again take on a lead role, the one they will retain for the remainder of winter. With each descending leaf, the shape of the hills and valleys slowly comes into view once again. 

Autumn, for me, is both a time of resignation and gentle joy. Certainly, I am sad to see the vibrancy of the forest depart, but without the exit of the leaves, the undergirding themes of the forest could never be known. Woven in these themes are thin but resilient strands of beauty and joy and love.

I wonder whether our lives are a bit like that. The years of our lives, like the autumn leaves, persistently fall away, revealing the more fundamental aspects of our identities. Along with the years, whole chapters of our lives seem to fall away. Both our greatest successes and our most devastating failures take on less prominence, and the greater, more primary structures of our lives, like the trunks of the trees, take shape. And all of this happens before the beauteous backdrop of the elemental structure of all life, that is, God’s love.  

Yes, it is sad to see the leaves fall, but as they do, the nearly unimaginable elegance of the hills and valleys is revealed.  And yes, it is difficult to bid farewell to many parts of our lives that have brought such delight. If we focus our energy only on what has diminished or departed, however, we risk failing to see the new life that is emerging and the love beneath it all. 

Antoine de Lavoisier, the great mathematician and chemist, said: “Nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed.” Autumn teaches us the same. Life transformed into life, and God’s love… above, beneath, and coursing through it all.

~Art

Walking with a Limp

The Old Testament reading for this coming Sunday is from the book of Genesis.  It is a story featuring two figures: the patriarch Jacob and “a man.” As the story goes, Jacob wrestles with the man all night long until, as morning approaches, the man demands that Jacob let him go. Jacob refuses, telling the man that he will not let him go until the man blesses him. The man complies, blessing Jacob and bequeathing a new name upon him.  Jacob’s new name will be Israel. The reason given for his new name: “for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed (Gen. 32:28).” From this point forward, Jacob’s life is unalterably changed, and his life takes a radically different life-affirming direction.

Though “the man” refuses to disclose his name to him, Jacob clearly understands that this physically demanding and spiritually taxing experience has been with no “man” but rather with God. And it has taken a toll on Jacob.  The passage ends with Jacob literally limping away because his hip was thrown out of joint in the encounter. Yes, he successfully transitions to a new chapter of his life with God, but it has cost him dearly.

Many of us have come to believe that our relationship with God should not demand too much from us.  Sure, we’re welcome to receive the good news of God’s love in Christ, but seldom do we count the cost, and rarely are we willing to “wrestle with God” for a very long time or if it causes us to sacrifice too much. As a result, many of us fail truly to understand and experience the life to which God is calling us.

Jesus is constantly inviting us into greater depths of faith. He beckons Peter to step out on the water. He encourages the rich young man to sell his possessions. He exhorts his disciples to take up their crosses and follow. Jesus calls us to both lay down our earthly burdens and to pick up the heavenly burden of love. Jesus leads us into truly the only life worth living, but make no mistake, it will cost us dearly.

Wrestling with God. Not easy. Sometimes, not fun. If, in following Christ, we don’t have some sort of a limp, then we’re probably not doing it right. The Way of Jesus always eventually leads to abundant, joyful life, but only after it takes us through some sort of a crucifixion experience. If you want something more comfortable, then choose some other way. Jesus never said that it would be easy; only that it would be good… for the world and for us too.

~Art

To Make a Difference

About six weeks ago, I was on vacation in our neighboring state of Wisconsin. I entered into a conversation with an older woman whom I did not know. She asked me where I was from, and I told her “White Bear Lake, Minnesota.” She replied that she had only been to White Bear Lake one time, but that she really liked it. She said that she especially appreciated that somehow we had managed to keep (and these are her words) “the negroes and the Jews out of town.”

As you may imagine, I was a bit taken aback by her words. I didn’t quite know what to say, but not wanting to make the situation even more uncomfortable, I mumbled something lame to the effect that we actually have folks of all stripes in our community and, by golly, we do have a lovely lake.

Since that time, however, I have been internally dealing with the shame I feel regarding my response to this woman’s blatantly racist and anti-semitic statement. Why wasn’t I more bold in expressing my disdain for her words? Why did I, in that moment, choose to respond politely rather than courageously?

We are living in immensely challenging times. On a daily basis, words are being spoken and actions are being taken that directly confront our understanding of what it means to be an American, what this country is all about, even what human decency looks like. It seems to me that there is an assault on the values that followers of Jesus espouse: truth, justice, mercy, compassion, kindness. I don’t know, maybe the attack on these basic Christian values has always been there, just underneath the surface, but my goodness, lately the intensity of the assault has become red hot.

Now, listen, I have been a priest in the church for a long time.  We have folks here at St. John’s who are on all sides of the political spectrum. Our community has people who have opinions about all sorts of things. It’s part of my job to keep the whole kit and caboodle from flying apart. So I know how important tact can be. I know that it’s sometimes the wisest thing to just stay silent and walk away. But I also know that there are other times when truthful words need to be spoken and bold deeds of peace and love need to be taken. And speaking those words and doing those deeds takes guts. 

Jane Goodall, the renowned British primatologist, ethologist, and anthropologist, who died recently once said,  “what you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.” One of the reasons why I continue to be part of the Christian clan is that I believe that the Way of Jesus is a way to make a good difference in this world.  What we say and what we do matters. Together, we have immense power to do much good, to really lean into what we believe about the Kingdom of God.  But to do that, to truly live into the Way of Jesus, we need to be courageous.

So,  I exhort you to be kind but courageous, civil but truthful, friendly but people of integrity. I wish I could go back two weeks and respond differently to that woman whose perception of what we folks here in White Bear Lake are all about. If I could have a do-over, I would inform that woman that in this town, we do, indeed, have a lovely lake, but that we also strive for justice and peace for Jews, for African Americans, for women, for LGBTQ folk, and for all people. I would kindly but directly tell that woman that here in White Bear Lake, we respect the dignity of every human being.

~Art

For God’s Sake

Sadly, tragically, scandalously, it has happened again. On Wednesday morning, two children, ages 8 and 10, were killed when a shooter fired through the windows of Annunciation Catholic Church in Minneapolis. Another 17 people, including 14 more children, were injured in the attack before the shooter died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Another horrific mass shooting that left multiple children dead and injured has once again ignited the debate about gun control. And I am just so tired of playing this game of deja vue.

Most of us are well aware of the repeating dynamics of the debate. But while the negotiations among legislators ensue, children die. Gun violence is the number-one killer of children in the US, causing more deaths each year than car accidents, poisonings, and cancer. The victims of the shooting in Minneapolis join the more than 800 children killed and more than 2,200 injured by firearms this year.

And it’s not just kids.  According to the Gun Violence Archive, not even eight months into 2025, there have already been 286 mass shootings—defined as cases in which four or more people are shot or killed—in the United States just this year, averaging more than one per day.

Can the most powerful and wealthiest country in the world really not do anything significant about this epidemic of gun violence? The feeble legislative efforts have been utterly ineffective, and the notion is ludicrous that simply addressing mental healthcare or arming teachers will solve the problem. Do we really love our guns so much that we can’t even try to see if more robust gun control works?

And where are the Christians in the debate?  Where is the Christian outrage? 

Jesus’ Way of Love is wholly non-violent.  He taught his followers to turn the other cheek. He shamed those who would stone the woman. He told Peter to put down the sword. He chose to be nailed to a cross. Can any Christian legitimately believe that Jesus would be in favor of legalizing the purchase of AR-15s for “recreational use” when so many AR-15s end up being used for mass killings? When asking the question, “What would Jesus do?,” can any Christian with a straight face answer, “make more guns available?” And when did reverence for the conveniently misinterpreted Second Amendment outweigh obedience to the Sixth Commandment of “Thou shalt not kill?”

The Bible tells us that Jesus loves the little children. For God’s sake, can’t we do the same?

~Art

The Divine What-May-Be

Over the last couple of months, I have officiated at a number of funerals at St. John’s. Funerals often get me thinking about legacy.  What difference did my life make?  What am I leaving behind for others?  What will I be known for?

Perhaps that was in the mind of Abram in the Old Testament passage that we will hear this coming Sunday at church.  The passage reads as follows:

After this, the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision:

“Do not be afraid, Abram.
  I am your shield,
  your very great reward.”

But Abram said, “Sovereign Lord, what can you give me since I remain childless and the one who will inherit my estate is Eliezer of Damascus?” And Abram said, “You have given me no children; so a servant in my household will be my heir.”

In his response to the “word of the Lord,” Abram expresses a remarkable lack of curiosity and imagination. You see, in his old age, Abram’s primary concern is his legacy, or, to be clear, what he perceives as a lack thereof.  He and Sarai have remained childless, and he thus has no heirs, no blood relation to pass on his possessions and family name. Further, Abram doesn’t seem assured by God’s promise to be his “shield and great reward”. He is so focused on what he does not have that he can’t even begin to imagine what may be.

It is only when “the word of the Lord” responds to Abram’s unfaithful focus on an empty past legacy that Abram begins to understand. God says, 

“a son who is your own flesh and blood will be your heir.” He took him outside and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars—if indeed you can count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be.”

When considering his legacy, Abram was thinking way too small. Not only does God promise a son of Abram’s own flesh, but much, much more. Indeed, God pledges the legacy of an entire nation. It is when Abram shifts his focus from a disappointing past to a divinely infused future that he is finally and forever “credited with righteousness.”

When we consider our own legacy, I wonder whether we focus on the past or the future. Do we focus on what we have done or on what God will do?  Are we constantly looking at our lives in the rear view mirror or are we straining forward to look through the windshield of our lives to catch a glimpse of what God might do?

Looking forward rather than behind takes discipline, patience, and curiosity. For some, the focus and energy is always on the past. But for the daring, imaginative and faithful few, legacy lies in the divine what-may-be.

~Art 

Being Good, Seeing Good, Doing Good

The book of Genesis gives us a number of helpful truths about the nature of human beings and our relationship with the rest of creation.  Among those truths are: 

(1) God’s creation is good

(2) Human beings are part of that creation and are, first and foremost, good

(3) Human beings are given the special job of good stewardship over the rest of creation.

And yet, much of the time, we human beings behave very badly.  Despite overwhelming evidence by nearly all experts in the matter that existential changes are happening in earth’s climate and that those changes are occurring as a result of human activity, many of us resist repenting of our bad behavior.  And many of our leaders resist making the politically unpopular yet clearly necessary decisions to protect the natural world (including us human beings). It can be so discouraging, so disheartening.  

Sometimes, however, we humans do see clearly, accept our call to be good stewards, and actually commit to doing the right thing. Yesterday, (Wednesday, July 23rd) was one of those days.  

In a unanimous decision, the United Nations’ highest court, the International Court of Justice, told wealthy countries they must comply with their international commitments to curb pollution or risk having to pay compensation to nations hard hit by climate change. In an opinion hailed by small island states who are already being hit hard by the changes to our climate, the International Court of Justice said countries must address the “urgent and existential threat” of climate change.

“States must cooperate to achieve concrete emission reduction targets,” Judge Yuji Iwasawa said, adding that failure by countries to comply with the “stringent obligations” placed on them by climate treaties was a breach of international law. The court further said countries were also responsible for the actions of companies under their jurisdiction or control.  Failure to rein in fossil fuel production and subsidies could result in “full reparations to injured states in the form of restitution, compensation and satisfaction.”

From the perspective of one who takes seriously the call of God upon human beings to be good stewards of creation, this judgment is a positive step forward.  It is a recognition that we have behaved poorly and a declaration of repentance. 

There is a difference, however, in seeing the right thing and actually doing the right thing. God commands us to not only see the Way of Love, but also to walk the Way of Love. And as Jesus shows us with his life, walking the Way of Love is almost always hard, and usually requires significant sacrifice.

God has done the work of creating us good.  The International Court of Justice has done the work of seeing good.  Now it’s up to each and all of us to engage the hard part… living more simply and less selfishly, loving our neighbors as we love ourselves.

May our being, our seeing and our doing be aligned with God’s Way of Love.

~Art

Praised Be (Laudato Si)

In memory of Pope Francis, our brother in Christ and witness to the power of the risen Lord, I offer this piece taken from his encyclical Laudato Si.  May we pray the words faithfully.  May we heed the words humbly.  May we live the words courageously.  In so doing, may we become the people God created us to be. In so doing, may God’s created order, especially the most innocent and weak among us, abundantly flourish.

All-powerful God, you are present in the whole universe and in the smallest of your creatures. You embrace with your tenderness all that exists. 

Pour out upon us the power of your love, that we may protect life and beauty. Fill us with peace, that we may live as brothers and sisters, harming no one. 

O God of the poor, help us to rescue the abandoned and forgotten of this earth, so precious in your eyes.

Bring healing to our lives, that we may protect the world and not prey on it, that we may sow beauty, not pollution and destruction. 

Touch the hearts of those who look only for gain at the expense of the poor and the earth. 

Teach us to discover the worth of each thing, to be filled with awe and contemplation, to recognize that we are profoundly united with every creature as we journey towards your infinite light.

We thank you for being with us each day. Encourage us, we pray, in our struggle

for justice, love and peace.

Rest in peace, faithful Francis.

Art

It’s Much Harder than Just Forgive and Forget

One of the themes that the Church traditionally addresses during the season of Lent is reconciliation. Reconciliation is a process whereby humans work out differences and faithfully get on with their lives. Usually, there has been offense or harm caused by one or both parties to the other. Contrition, confession, forgiveness, repentance and reparation are all part of the process of reconciliation. It’s a lot of work.

Reconciliation begins with contrition.  The Collect for Ash Wednesday (and used on other occasions in Lent) states, Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing that you have made, and forgive the sins of all those who are penitent: create and make in us new and contrite hearts that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may receive from you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord. At its essence, contrition is a deep sorrow and regret for a broken relationship as well as a heart-felt desire for the relationship to be made whole once again. Contrition is one more gift of the Spirit, and that is why it is something for which we may pray.

Once the desire for a healed relationship is present, sins are confessed both to God and to the offended party. True confession takes real humility as one must come to terms with the fact that there are things that we have done or left undone that truly hurt others. Confession is a blow to the ego. It is a recognition that we’re just not good enough without God to pull off a faithful life.  While confession to God for sins committed is necessary for reconciliation, often confession to the offended party is also essential.

Forgiveness is a tricky one. When one chooses to forgive, one is saying to one’s own soul, “I refuse to allow what somebody has done to me to hold me in chains.” Forgiveness has nothing at all to do with whether the offending party is sorry or whether either person wants the relationship to be healed. It is a deal with one’s own soul.  While there can be forgiveness without reconciliation, there cannot be reconciliation without forgiveness.

Repentance is the commitment and action of changing one’s behavior so that one doesn’t offend anymore.  Again, this is really hard work.  So often, our behaviors are rooted in bad habits that have developed over time. Repentance is about adopting and maturing into a new set of habits that are beneficial to our relationships with other people and with God. Relationships will not be reconciled for long if the same habits which severed the relationships are repeated.

Finally, there is the step of reparation. Reparation consists of concrete actions that the offender takes to make things right with the one offended. Reparation can take many forms, and of course, in many instances, true reparation is impossible. At least a desire and effort at reparation, however, is most often necessary for true reconciliation to ensue.

Listen, it’s not easy. True reconciliation is a heart-wrenching, soul-stretching affair. It is much, much more than simply saying you’re sorry. Forgive and forget is a catchy phrase, but rarely does it work. The hard work of reconciliation, however, is absolutely worth every ounce of effort. Without learning how to be reconciled with God and with other folks, we cannot become the people God dreams us to become. Without reconciliation, we cannot live the abundant lives God yearns for us to live.

~Father Art