In the Sanctuary at 8:30AM and 11AM -
a blended service of traditional and contemporary elements with communion

In the hall at 9:45AM
scripture, prayer, and creative response with communion

Worship each Sunday @ 8:30AM, 9:45AM, and 11AM

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Our Many Gendered God

This week at Trinity Lutheran, we'll be thinking about issues of gender and the ways we still need to transform our society.  I've b...

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Pastor Keith's most recent reflection is up at on the ELCA's Living Lutheran site www.livinglutheran.com.

We are blessed to have two people chosen for publication there. Kristin-Berkey-Abbott's wonderful spiritual reflectons reguarly may be found there as well as in The Lutheran Magazine and Seeds for the Parsish, a resourse newsletter that is mailed out to thousands of church leaders. Way to go Kristin!


For ashes, dust and earth,
for Sunday after Sunday,
draped in purple and thorn,
faces set toward Jerusalem,
for Three Great Days, and the Greatest of Days,
we poured out.
We poured out
as if without care, caring,
we as water
from mountainsides flowing, endless,
the very best of who we are,
the passion that fires our imaginations,
hours sacrificed, our Lenten disciplines and all that
and more.
And more than dirty feet, one last meal,
the cross barren, pancakes and lilies,
and pretty music abounding
across seas of fragrant hyacinths and
hardy daffodils,
and children eager,
baskets full of colored eggs,
we poured ourselves out.
Listen, does our mind hear still
the bells ring and chime
and all those alleluias,
dormant no more, shaking dust from rafters
seeking egress to dance in festive splendor:
He is risen! He is risen!
All now memory,
a yesterday, boxed and put away,
near the white lights and tinsel,
a headline, a short paragraph of thanks, a photo or two.
Strip the bulletin boards, change the paraments,
the altar, a spare lily or two limping for another Sunday sitting there, sad.
We are ready to sit a spell ourselves, put up our feet,
simplicity the rule of the day, catch our breath,
just breathe. We did our part.
And yet,
have we sacrificed in vain,
the good show, the happy faces,
the counters happy counting, money, bodies, sausage sold
with pancake platters?
To what end have we told the story,
our story,
we, knit within its hope
in our own baptismal waters?
Do we dare leave Easter, unchanged,
without the discomfort that comfort brings, hope embodying hope,
drawing us out into a world expectant and we expected
to embody what we heard, what we know, what we believe,
who we are?
Do we dare?

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