Sometimes the default positions of individual faith communities or even wider forms of entire church bodies are survival, self-preservation, and scrambling (perhaps even frantically) to figure out whatever trick or cultural trend that can be somehow made more churchy to reel people in to our religious club of sorts; so that we can keep this whole, what is meant to be, meaning-filled operation going for generations to come. Sometimes the default focus is about what we don’t have, or what we used to have, as opposed to the God-ness in our midst. Sometimes such a way of going about ministry can only lead to disappointment and what if’s and shoulda’s/woulda’s/coulda’s, combining for debilitating souls and all-around despairing outlooks on the church for the earthly vista that lies ahead. But sometimes the Resurrection is more than just about lifting physical bodies from nothingness.
Last week, the largest Protestant denomination in the United States took further steps to ensure that only men would serve in roles of pastoral leadership. Although the amendment will not take its fullest effect until another vote in June 2027, the recent proceedings are rather sad, disappointing, perhaps even a travesty to women, to younger girls wondering about their place in the world, for all children of God who would benefit from their leadership; even a blow to the Divine, who insists on being at holy work in us all. And yet, amidst an individual and collective call to recognize our humanity that will entail our fair share of differences, including with interpretation of Scripture and convictions on how churches should operate in the world; and a need to be respectful of such differences, not to mention the whole loving your neighbor as yourself and all…but, still…
Last weekend at our Northeastern Ohio Synod Assembly, our Bishop, The Rev. Dr. Laura Barbins was re-elected to the leadership position working with the 130-some of us ELCA congregations around this corner of the state. But the moment also brought me back to six years earlier, when she was first lifted up by all the voting representatives of us Lutheran churches in the area, and the entire process transpired over Zoom because, well six years ago, the world was in the midst of…a rather interesting pandemic time.
Recently, I saw an image of Cornwall, England, one of the picturesque coastlines of the country, located on the southwest end of the island, overlooking the Atlantic. One of the beautiful church buildings in the region is St. Just in Roseland, with a history connecting back to a 6th century Celtic chapel, but the current structure was dedicated in 1261. On the church’s website, you can even read about “a local legend…of Joseph of Arimathea bringing his boy nephew, Jesus, to Cornwall, and that he landed at St Just in Roseland.”
A few days ago, I read this article about what is considered to be the northernmost church in the world: a Lutheran one, oddly enough, on the Svalbard archipelago of the Arctic Circle (I’m sure I’m the only one who couldn’t remember from geography class what an archipelago is, but just in case: “an area that contains a chain or group of islands scattered in lakes, rivers, or the ocean (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration)). One of those places that not only includes extreme temperatures and light, or lack thereof, but also extreme ways of human survival. Along those lines, one of its main economic sources of stability was a mining company over the past century, which has recently closed.
