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God Who Bleeds

It was a beautiful May day in gorgeous Irvine, California, and four of us songwriters were sharing a sunny and lighthearted conversation as we walked.  This retreat had three scheduled songwriting sessions, and the forty-two attendees would find out before each session what the assigned groups and writing locations were.   Benji, Cara, Matt, and I began our gentle uphill walk to the chapel for the final cowrite.  We chatted and laughed as we walked. Good Shepherd Chapel, Concordia University Irvine. Photo by Anna Gruen. I don’t remember everything we talked about, but I’m pretty sure that at some point someone joked about the zoom meetings, commenting how you could wear some comfy shorts below the nice shirt and no one would know.  And about how there was no way anyone could tell what was really in your mug or water bottle.   The conversation took a serious turn when the observation was made that covid  (stupid covid!)  made substance dependency and addiction worse for many people.  No
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Songwriting Journey

So, in August I did a thing.  A thing I’ve never done before.  A thing I never expected to do.  I want to tell you what that thing is.   But first you should know something about me.  I love music. I’ve played the piano for as long as I can remember.  I took lessons from my mom who was the church organist and taught piano on the side.  I started learning the trombone in fourth grade.  In college, our Symphonic Wind Ensemble needed a tuba player, so I learned that.  Turns out that if you can play a trombone and a tuba, you can also play a baritone.  So I played that too in some church brass ensembles.  I wouldn’t say that I own a ton of instruments, but I do have a few: a piano, digital keyboard, harmonica, kalimba, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, trumpet, trombone, and bells (not handbells, but bells that look like separate pieces of a xylophone in a case).  Some of those I don’t even know how to play.  Yet.   As much as I love music, I’ve never been a good performer.  I can preach a
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Thank You

  I give thanks “ I give thanks to you, O Lord my God, with my whole heart,      and I will glorify your name forever. For great is your steadfast love toward me …”  - Psalm 86:12-13a   A month ago, you held a wonderful celebration to recognize the anniversary of my ordination.  I echo the words of Psalm 86 and thank God for all that he has done for me.  I specifically thank Him for all of you.  I get emotional easily when I am overcome with gratitude, so I was not able to speak a proper “thank you” at the time of the celebration.  So, I decided to write this one instead.  (And I am still working on individual thank you notes too).   I would like to ask you to please take a few moments to read this because it is important to acknowledge what it has taken to get me to this point.  Additionally, at the end of this note I offer a few words about the future of ministry at BSLC.   What Has Gotten Me to This Point   As people tell me they appreciate me and my service to the Church, it’s impo
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Don't Send Me Black Balloons

I want to share with you something I wrote for the church I serve when it celebrated an anniversary a few years ago.  Imagine that in this message, the church is telling others not just about its special day, but also something about the people, something about the past, and the present context, and the work we all have to do in the future.   Now, keep in mind that this was written in pre-covid times.  It remains to be seen what the long-term effects of that will be on the global Christian Church.  But I believe the points made here are still applicable. So, read the message.  And I’ll have a few questions for you afterward. Listen instead - Spotify Listen instead - Apple Podcasts Listen instead - SoundCloud It’s a milestone birthday for me – 40!  But don’t send any black balloons.  My future is bright. Forty years ago, a group of people gathered together in a house and held a church service.  As they read the Word of God, I was born. Soon they would name me. I struggled to survive fro
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Ashen Hope

Happy New Year! Click HERE to listen to the Podcast version on Spotify instead . Click HERE to listen to the Podcast version on SoundCloud instead.   Today, I’m going to tell you a story, a true tree tale I call “Ashen Hope.”  At the end of it, I’m going to ask you what lesson you learn from it.  Ready?   We looked at the house in late spring.  It was perfect.  Oh, it had way too much wallpaper and needed to be updated, but the layout was perfect.  It was in the right school zone.  And the price point was right where we needed it to be.   We didn’t expect it to be perfect.  The pictures on the listing were, frankly, poor.  You couldn’t see the space, just walls.  The gentle slope of the backyard looked like a steep hill.  It didn’t look great in photos.  But in person, it was perfect.   As we walked through the house, I lingered on the main level a little longer, and my wife and the realtor went upstairs to see the bedrooms.  When I came upstairs a minute later, my wife was exiting the
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Echoes of Joy

Here’s a song that is both old and new.  The text of the verses was written in the 5 th  century, then translated and altered in the 19 th  century.  Here I pair the text with a new refrain and all new music.  I made the range a little too high for me, so I’m recruiting a friend to re-record the vocals.  I’ll be sure to share it when the improved version is ready.  But for now, it’s just me.   In the beloved Christmas song “Angels We Have Heard on High” we are told that mountains echo the joyous song of the angels.   Echoing the joy  happens not only when mountains reflect sound waves, but the “ Echoes of Joy ” from that night still reverberate in the faith-waves of our hearts.   I invite you to rejoice along with me that Christ the Savior is born for us.  Our rejoicing together will be an echo of that first Christmas night. The text of the song is below the link. CLICK HERE TO LISTEN   Echoes of Joy 1. From east to west, from shore to shore Let ev'ry heart awake and sing. The holy
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Encouragement and Appreciation

Encouragement and Appreciation   Sometimes I feel guilty when I hear that other pastors feel unappreciated, or that words of encouragement are very few and far between for them.   Notice I said I feel guilty, not “judgy.”  I believe them when they say they feel that way, and I feel sorry for them.  It is unacceptable, but I don’t know where to place the blame.  So I can’t be judgmental about it. I mean, is the congregation truly uncaring?  Or, is that their way of saying ministry has been tough?—and believe me, it is tough for every pastor!  Or, does it mean that they carry the criticism closer to the heart and it’s harder to remember the encouragement?—you know, the old “it takes 10 compliments to make up for 1 complaint” saying. It’s impossible for me to know the answers to those questions about their situation.  So when I read it or hear it, I feel sorry for them, and I feel a bit guilty.  You see, I have  always  felt supported, encouraged, and appreciated.  Even when ministry has
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