Friday, May 04, 2018

A Republik, If You Can Keep It



"A republic, if you can keep it."
~ Benjamin Franklin, 1787


This famous quote by the American founding father Dr. Benjamin Franklin sounds apocryphal, and we have no date that it was said, but it was actually recorded in the notes of one of the attendees of the Constitutional Convention (Dr. James McHenry of Maryland).  It reflects the fragility of the republican form of government, one that strives to avoid both the Scylla of dictatorial monarchy and the Charybdis of mob-rule democracy.  Thomas Jefferson is attributed with saying that eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.  That one is surely spurious in its attribution, but it is something that experience and history have borne out nonetheless.

Our founders looked to the old Roman Republic and its various mechanisms of checks and balances to assure that power was not centralized into the hands of one or of a few.  They were not in favor of either monarchy or democracy, and looked to history to determine the optimal form of governance for the prospect of liberty.

Liberty was the central theme of the newly-independent United States, one that was to be a challenge to establish and maintain - requiring eternal vigilance.  A republic was seen as the most libertarian of the various models.

Our founders had a real-world example of republican government in Switzerland - the world's third oldest republic.  Even to this day, Switzerland maintains many of the ideals of the American founders: it is republican, it is highly decentralized, the people are well-armed, and it avoids entangling alliances.  Until the Swiss Franc was taken off of the gold standard, Swiss money and banking were the envy of the world.  Switzerland also has a commitment to political independence, rejecting membership in the EU and maintaining sovereignty over its borders.

I don't know if the founders looked to Switerland, (or the Netherlands or San Marino) for inspiration, but certainly Switzerland has much in common with the political philosophy of the American people even today.

Interestingly, in this age when print media is all but gone, in a democratized culture of writing and publishing in which the gates have all been crashed and the gatekeepers desperately cling to power through attempts to control the internet, there is an experiment being tried in Switzerland: an online magazine that, while paperless, attempts to maintain the culture of the genre of the magazine and of good magazine writing, hard-hitting journalism, and interesting narrative.

The name of this project is "Republik."

Magazines were more than just glossy pictures and gossip columns in the 19th century.  In fact, many of our great English language novels, such as those by Charles Dickens, were serials published in magazines.  In the age before radio and television, print media was king.

But instead of a king, today we have a Republik... if we can keep it.

A few months ago, I found out that some reporters from Republik were in South Louisiana, and it was at a time when we were undergoing a great deal of controversy about historical monuments in our 300-year old City of New Orleans.  My many friends around the world were shocked and appalled at the advance of political correctness in our country that resulted in four monuments, all over a century old, two of which are priceless, world-class sculptures by the renowned artist Alexander Doyle (1857-1922) being removed in the middle of the night by masked men at the behest of the mayor and the seven-member city council - with no vote of the people.

My European and Russian friends - no matter where they stand politically - look upon such iconoclasm with alarm.  Anyone who has read Orwell's 1984 must get a chill up the spine to read the articles written in 2017 in New Orleans - which had become an epicenter of sorts regarding the dispute between those who advocate the preservation of historical monuments and public art vs. those who wish to see historical landmarks - and even history itself - changed.

I found the American media to be overwhelmingly biased and dishonest regarding this issue, and I declined to be interviewed by local and national media about what was happening.  I wrote in great detail about my experiences during the vigils and protests at our monuments in an article published by Chronicles Magazine.  For a few weeks, it was a tense situation with great potential for violence.  My article is here, unfortunately behind a pay-wall for the time being.  But the link does show a picture that I took of a prominent local monument defender: Kanjaksha Katta, known as KK, waving a Confederate battle flag at the ruins of the Jefferson Davis monument.



KK, an army veteran and patriotic American, is the son of Indian immigrants.  He is passionate about preserving our history and our liberty.  I met him at the monument vigils.  He told me that a couple of Swiss reporters had interviewed him regarding the monument controversy.  He gave them my name, since they were interested in interviewing more locals about the issue.  One of the reporters, Anja Conzett, writing for Republik, contacted me by Facebook Messenger on September 10, 2017 at 7:49 pm:

Dear Pater Larry Beane
Kanjaksha Kummar
[sic] Katta gave me your contact. I am traveling journalist doing a coast to coast piece about this wonderful country of yours for the Swiss magazine Republik. Me and my colleague wanted to attend your service to day, but we were feeling a little bit under the weather so we took the day off. we still would love to meet you and talk about your views. Do you have any other services or bible study planned this week that we could attend? Tomorrow on Patriot Day maybe?
I'm looking forward to hear from you and hope you have a wonderful sunday evening!
Kind regards
Anja Conzett

Note: "Pater" is the Latin word for "Father" - Facebook disallows the titles "Pastor" or "Reverend" or "Father" - so I used the Latin title "Pater" which means "Father" but looks a good bit like "Pastor."




I replied at 9:21 pm:
Dear Ms. Conzett:
I'm sorry you weren't able to make it to our service!
There is a 9/11 memorial service tomorrow morning at nearby St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church in Gretna. I'm sending you a copy of the invite.
My family and I will be there for the 8:30 am Mass. I'll be wearing a clerical collar and my fire chaplain uniform. My wife and son will be in their Civil Air Patrol uniforms.
We should be easy to pick out in the crowd. 🙂
I hope you are enjoying your sojourn in our country!  I have always wanted to visit Switzerland, but it hasn't  been God's will so far.
Blessings on your travels and your writing!
~ Rev. Larry Beane

The next day, Grace, Leo, and I - in our uniforms of first responders - attended the Mass.  During the service, Anya and her colleague, whom I later learned was named Yvonne Kunz, entered and sat near the back.  After the service, local media came to take pictures.  They asked me to take some photos with the priest of St. Joseph's, Father Gary Copping - whom I count as a friend, and who serves with me as a chaplain of the David Crockett Fire Company here in Gretna.

After the photos, we caught up with Anya and Yvonne outside.

Here is Anya's official recollection of our first meeting, which she records in her article (which is part of a larger German language series called "Race, Class, Guns, and God"), the subset about me being entitled Der Superchrist (The Extreme Christian):
An diesem Montag jährt sich der Anschlag auf das World Trade Center. Überall in der Stadt finden Gedenkgottesdienste statt, und so ersetzen wir die von mir verschlafene Messe vom Sonntag mit einem Memorial. Wir fahren zu einer katholischen Kirche etwas ausserhalb der Stadt, wo eine Andacht für die Opfer von 9/11 und alle First Responders abgehalten wird, für Nothelfer, Feuerwehrfrauen, Polizisten, Helden in Zivil. In der Kirche, einer Art orangefarbenem Disneylandschloss, verlieren sich an die dreissig Leute auf den Holzbänken.
Here is an English translation by my friend Matthew Carver:
This Monday is the anniversary of the attack on the World Trade Center. Everywhere in the city, memorial services are being celebrated, and so instead of Mass (which I slept through) we substitute a memorial instead. We travel to a Catholic church a little outside the city, where a commemoration of the sacrifice of 9/11 and all first responders is celebrated, for emergency care providers, fire women, police, heroes in the civil service. In the church, a sort of orange-colored Disneyland castle, they are lost to the thirty people on the wooden pews.
Anja describes the beautiful edifice of St. Joseph's as an "orange-colored Disneyland castle" - while not including any pictures or even the name of the church.  Here is St. Joseph's website.  You can see for yourself if her description is accurate regarding the 1926 "Colonial revival" and "Spanish Baroque" architecture of this church building that is on the national historic register.

Orange Disney Palace?

A little history of the real St. Joseph's Church, from a display at Gretna's German American Cultural Center

Anja's narrative continues:
Eine Familie fällt auf: der Sohn in der Uniform eines Kadetten, die Mutter in der Uniform einer Luftwaffenhelferin, der Vater in der Uniform eines Feuerwehrmannes. So stehen sie da, singen stramm und leidenschaftlich. Nach dem Gottesdienst spreche ich sie an: Pater Larry Beane, Pfarrer einer lutheranischen Gemeinde einige Blocks weiter, seine Frau Grace und ihren Sohn Leo. 
A family attracts my attention: the son in the uniform of a cadet, the mother in the uniform of an air force attendant, the father in the uniform of a fireman. Thus they stand there, singing solidly and fervently. After the service I speak to them: Pater Larry Beane, parson of a Lutheran congregation a block away, his wife Grace, and their son Leo.
"A family attracts my attention," she writes.  To read her account, it seems like she just happened to be there and just happened to stumble upon us.  This was all, of course, prearranged and planned.  She contacted me, and we set up this meeting.  Moreover, she heard about us from Kanjaksha ("KK") who is also featured in her article - something that she doesn't reveal.  It all seems so spontaneous, the product of keen journalistic instinct.  It sounds good, anyway.  Too bad that's not the real story.  Although the quote is apocryphal, one of our great American writers, Mark Twain, is supposed to have quipped, "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything."


At this point in the piece, there are two photos of us taken the next day: one as a family in our uniforms, another of my son on a swing - both carefully posed by the photographer.  The caption reads:
Pater Larry Beane, seine Frau Grace und der Sohn Leo glauben an Gott, Nachbarschaftshilfe und Verschwörungstheorien. Den Medien trauen sie genauso wenig wie den Schulen. Der Sohn wird zu Hause unterrichtet. 
Pater Larry Beane, his wife Grace, and the son Leo, believe in God, helping the neighborhood, and conspiracy theories. They trust the media no more than they do the schools. The son is taught at home.
It's odd that Anja treats my social media moniker as my name.  There are other such lapses in this article, including misrepresenting KK's nickname as KKK (Yvonne erroneously refers to him as KKK throughout her article about him), and KK's wife Shirlron, who is incorrectly referred to throughout the piece as "Shirloa" - even as Yvonne admits giving up on trying to understand her accent.  There is actually a simple solution to this problem of spelling people's names correctly: a notebook.

In my own 2011 trip to Siberia, I began to carry a pocket Moleskine with me everywhere I went.  I have continued this practice and am now on my 12th notebook, and no longer carry the Moleskine brand.  While in Yekaterinburg, I interviewed an elderly victim of Stalin's deportations, a fascinating lady named Albina Becker.  I had trouble discerning her name, so I asked her to write her name herself, which she did in a strong Russian cursive.  I'm no professional journalist, but this just strikes me as common sense.  It's not that difficult to spell names correctly.  If you get names wrong, what else have you messed up?  At very least, Yvonne was unprofessional, sloppy, and lax with details.

As it turns out, Anja and Yvonne had many screw-ups just in this segment of their article series alone.

Write it down!
The part about "conspiracy theories" is interesting in its vagueness.  Kind of an odd caption for a photo.  But it does provide an interesting insinuation, doesn't it?  The caption seems to suggest that homeschoolers are paranoiacs and cranks.  That is the stereotype, after all, isn't it?

We had an interesting discussion about homeschooling during the interview.  I know it's largely foreign to Europeans.  But it is very popular here in America.  It isn't exotic or uncommon.  Homeschoolers perform very well in testing and in college placement.  As I explained, our public schools in Louisiana routinely rank near the bottom.  There are some exceptions, as in one of the area schools in which I substitute taught a couple years ago.  But our state's quality of education is not, as a rule, very good.

Homeschooling, by contrast, allows a tailor-made curriculum and a more efficient use of time.  I explained that we are able to study Latin, rhetoric, logic, and the great books.  We can give an excellent liberal arts education that allows great flexibility for family time.  As Civil Air Patrol volunteers, we can interrupt our school day if we are called out on a live mission - as happened to us on one occasion.  Moreover, just last week, we saw a US Naval ship in port, and interrupted our classes to visit.  We are able to go to museums, to travel to historic sites, and adjust the pace of our curriculum based on our son's abilities and individual needs.  Our homeschooling experience includes everything from Karate and bowling and archery, to Aerospace education and flying model airplanes and researching spiders in the field with a local university professor.

Education is a 24-7 endeavor in our home.  We don't compartmentalize "school" and segregate it for life.  We take the rewording of Seneca's maxim: "Non scholæ sed vitæ discimus" to heart ("We do not learn for school, but for life").

But it fits their narrative to just link it to "conspiracy theories."  What a sad missed opportunity to share something truly interesting and informative about American culture to her readers.  But instead, she just went for the cheap shot, the stereotype, the trope.  It fit the narrative.  It's all about the narrative.

Anja's narrative continues:
Er traue den Medien nicht, sagt Larry Beane, sagt es mit leicht zuckendem Lächeln, das Gewicht des Körpers auf den Zehenspitzen balancierend. Aber es würde gegen das Prinzip der südlichen Gastfreundschaft verstossen, uns nicht zu empfangen. Also lädt er uns ein, ihn am nächsten Tag in seiner Kirche zu besuchen, einem trostlosen Betonklotz aus den Sechzigern. Die bunten Glasfenster sind so ausgerichtet, dass die Sonne fast nie hindurchscheint, drinnen riecht es nach Staub, schimmelnden Sitzpolstern und der nahenden Apokalypse. Seine Frau und seinen Sohn hat der Pater mitgebracht und als stumme Dekoration über fünf Bänke in der leeren Kirche verteilt.
He doesn’t trust the media, says Larry Beane—says it with a slightly wincing smile, the weight of the body balancing on his tiptoes. But it would be a breach of the principle of Southern hospitality not to welcome us. So he invites us to visit him the next day in his church, a comfortless concrete block from the 60s, the colorful glazed windows arranged so that the sun almost never shines through them. Within there is the smell of dust, moldering pew cushions, and imminent apocalypse. The “Pater” brought his wife and his son with him, and distributed them as mute decoration across five pews in the empty church.
Poor Anja!  I think she is a frustrated fiction writer.  The "smell of... imminent apocalypse."  There is an award for this kind of prose, the Bulwer-Lytton.  But the image of me on tiptoe saying, "I don't trust the media, but it would be a breach of Southern hospitality not to welcome you" is right up there with "It was a dark and stormy night."  Maybe Anja watched Gone with the Wind or Yosemite Sam videos to come up with this ridiculous attempt to stereotype.

In fact, my wife, son, and I came up and said "hello," and I expressed hope that she was having a good time.  I compared her assignment to that of Alexis de Tocqueville - though Anja seemed clueless about who he was.

Her claim that I said that I don't trust the media, but for the sake of Southern hospitality agreed to meet with them is, as I've already shown by our text exchange the day before, a lie.  I had already agreed to meet them.  Moreover, the meeting that we set up for the next day (because their photographer was not present at St. Joseph's) was supposed to be only a photo session, not a three hour interview.

And once again, she got a basic fact wrong: our "comfortless concrete block" was built in 1950, not the 60s.  This might seem like a minor error, but church architecture in the United States changed radically during the 1960s.  To many people born after the fall of the Berlin Wall, there seems to be little difference between 1965 and 1950 - or 1850 for that matter.  As long as the insult is registered, who cares about temporal accuracy?  She asked me when the church was built.  I had not only told her, but also pointed to the "NINETEEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY" carved in stone on the outside of the front door.  Another pro-tip to prevent journalistic embarrassment: take pictures with your iPhone of things like dates, and how things are spelled.

Jack Kessels, the architect of the "comfortless concrete block from the 60s"


Jack Kessels, architect of Salem, papal knight,
cousin of Fr. Wynhoven of St. Joseph's (courtesy of the Gretna German American Cultural Center)
Display on Salem Lutheran Church's current (1950) building at the Gretna German American Cultural Center

Another Kessels creation, courtesy of the German American Cultural Center

At any rate, here is a different perspective on Salem Lutheran Church from an interview with a local reporter just a few months before Anja smelled the apocalypse.  Moreover, there are some nice pictures of our comfortless concrete block and its windows arrayed conspiratorially to keep out the sunlight - especially on those dark and stormy nights.

As far as the smell of dust and mold, that too is utter fiction.  It fits Anja's dreary narrative and her desire to portray me in a bad light, but the fact of the matter is that Salem is not "my" church.  It belongs to our parish, our community.  It is lovingly cared for most especially by a man that Anja has wronged with her untruth: Roy Bayhi.  Roy, along with his wife Karen and several members of their family, lovingly care for our church's campus - inside and out.  They make repairs, they oversee projects, they clean and sweep and scrub.  There is no mold - as anyone living in a subtropical region knows, you cannot give mold a toehold.  That is why our sanctuary is climate controlled 24-7 - even though services are typically held only on Sundays and Wednesdays.

People who live in our community - not just our members and attendees - but our many guests and visitors, those who attend funerals and concerts in our church, as well as decades of former students at our school and their families who attended assemblies and graduations in our sanctuary know the truth.

How unfortunate that Anja would, as we say in our country, throw Roy "under the bus" for the sake of a little rhetorical snark.  That line about the smell of the apocalypse has the smell of something that was pre-written and planned to go into the narrative no matter what: prefab McMansion journalism.

Is this considered ethical in Switzerland?

As far as my family of "mute decorations" go, they were specifically invited by Anja and Yvonne to be there.  In fact, they and their photographer wanted to use them as stumme Dekoration in their carefully curated and arranged poses.  It seems to "scrape the bottom of the barrel" (as we say in the States) to use a man's wife and 12-year old son as props to discredit someone.  But there is a pattern at work.  My wife and son graciously gave up a day of school to accommodate Anja and Yvonne - who asked that they be there.  Anja and Yvonne really should be ashamed of themselves.

Anja's embarrassing narrative continues:
In einem früheren Leben war Larry Beane Computertechniker. Aber eigentlich war er – Sohn einer Südstaaten-Mutter und eines Nordstaaten-Vaters – schon immer ein Mann Gottes, lange bevor er sich das Kollar umlegte. Ein gebildeter Mann, der den Versailler Vertrag analysiert, beiläufig aus George Orwell «1984» zitiert und seinen Sohn dazu erzieht, «Excuse me» zu sagen, bevor der sich in das Gespräch von Erwachsenen einmischt. Doch in seiner Freizeit zieht Pater Beane in Anzug und Kampfstiefeln los, um gegen den Abriss von Denkmälern von Konföderierten-Generälen zu protestieren, den Generälen, die im Amerikanischen Bürgerkrieg für die Südstaaten kämpften. Das hat ihm den Spitznamen «Pater Tactical» eingebracht.

In a previous life, Larry Beane was a computer technician. But in reality he–the son of a Southern mother and a Northern father—was always a man of God, long before he considered the collar. An educated man, who analyzes the Treaty of Versailles, incidentally quoting from George Orwell’s 1984 and raises his son to say “Excuse me” before involving himself in the conversation of adults. Yet in his free time, Pater Beane strikes out in his suit and combat boots to protest the demolition of statues of Confederate generals, the generals who fought in the American Civil War for the Southern states. This has earned him the name of “Pater Tactical.”
Once more, Anja screwed up something basic: her story about my mother and father.  It is untrue, and I did not say this.  All four of my grandparents grew up within a few miles of each other in the mountains of West Virginia.  Again, if someone can't get minor details correct, why is anything that she says reliable?  Moreover, "Pater Tactical" is not my nickname.  Kanjaksha Katta (who, once again, she does not disclose knows me) calls me "Father Tactical" because he was amused by my boots.  Military guys like to give such personal nicknames to people, and KK is the only person who calls me this (and I like it and consider it funny).

They are not "combat boots"

They are "tacticals" - worn by first responders.  I don't think they would hold up in combat.  Sadly, Anja missed out on a great story.  Had she asked me about the boots, I would have related it to her - not that she would have included it - as it doesn't fit her narrative of me as some kind of eccentric, crank, and menace.

So what's the deal with the tacticals?  When I traveled to Russia in 2011, I was going to be away for about four weeks.  I wanted to travel light.  Anyone who travels knows how much room shoes take.  So I did not pack any extra shoes.  I wore my Giorgio Brutini loafers ("Father Brutini" also sounds like a cool moniker, but KK never tagged me with that).  I really like those shoes, and continue to buy them to this day.  They're light, well-made, not expensive, and ventilated to deal with our South Louisiana heat.

However, in Siberia, many of the roads are unpaved, the "sidewalks" muddy, with gravel everywhere.  We walked along paths in the woods in Novosibirsk's university neighborhood (Академгородо́к).  We traipsed through airports and train stations and on grass.  But the real kicker was our visit to the wilderness in the Republic of Khakassia near the Mongolian border.  There, we hiked on trails and did some rock climbing.  Yes, in my Brutini loafers.  Rock climbing in Siberia is wonderful, a throwback to simpler times: no helmets, no safety ropes, no release forms.  Just you and the big rock looking down into the valley.  Not unlike being a kid in the 1980s.  Only with Brutinis.

My loafers did okay, but needless to say, I learned a lesson.

In my 2015 return to Siberia, I wanted to wear a shoe that I could better hike in, could schlep through airports in, supported my ankle, felt like tennis shoes, and could still shine up nice with black pants.  The tacticals were perfect!  I found a brand that got good ratings, was not expensive, and I continue to wear them in situations of possible rain or when loafers might not work.  They are also part of the Civil Air Patrol uniform.

So there is the real story that Anja missed.  I know it doesn't fit her narrow agenda, but truth is always more interesting than someone's forced political commentary, which she continues:

Mit Rassismus, sagt Beane, hätten diese Denkmäler nichts zu tun. «Es sind Denkmäler eines verlorenen Unabhängigkeitskriegs, der in erster Linie nicht den Erhalt der Sklaverei zum Ziel hatte, sondern sich gegen staatliche Bevormundung richtete.» Nein, sagt Pater Beane, es gebe in Amerika keine Nazis. Die Männer, die vor den Denkmälern Swastika-Fahnen schwenkten, würden dafür bezahlt. Von den Demokraten, den Liberalen, den linken Medien.

These monuments have nothing to do with racism, says Beane. “They are monuments of a failed war for independence, which did not have as its primary goal the preservation of slavery but was directed against state paternalism.” No, says Pater Beane, there are no Nazis in America. The men who brandished Swastika flags in front of the monuments were paid to do so. By the Democrats, the liberals, the leftist media.
First of all, that last line is utter fantasy: "Democrats, the liberals, the leftist media" don't pay for protesters and agitators - but there are nevertheless people who finance protesters and counter-protesters.  As far as the "men who brandished Swastika flags in front of the monuments," this is an inexcusable ambiguity.  When she says, "the monuments," if she means the New Orleans monuments, there were no "Swastika flags."  Not one.  I was at most of the events surrounding the New Orleans monuments.  The crowds were mostly older people, patriotic Americans, people like me whose fathers and grandfathers fought against the Nazis.  They flew as many US flags as CS flags.  It has become fashionable for young leftists to throw the words "Nazi" and "fascist" around and apply it to anyone they don't like.

In our interview, we did discuss the one man - not men - the one man who brandished a Swastika at Charlottesville.  I was not there, but saw the videos and talked to eyewitnesses.  There was one guy only, and the media focused on him.  But notice, he was never identified, never "doxxed" and fired from his job.  His flag still had the folds on it from the packaging.  Nobody knew who he was or whom he was with.  We know that agents provacateurs are employed by both sides, as there were also monument supporters who infiltrated Antifa groups and then did things to embarrass them.  That is the nature of this kind of ideological conflict.  Anyone who doubts this is incredibly naive.

While Anja pointed out that I oppose Communism (which I do), my opinions about Nazism went strangely unreported.  Yvonne asked me about all of the Nazis we have in our country.  "What Nazis?" I asked.  These two Swiss reporters seem to think that our country is crawling with National Socialists.  The one guy at Charlottesville (if he even is a Nazi) and the couple hundred nutters who showed up stiff-arm saluting like idiots at a highly-publicized Richard Spencer rally are cases in point.  In a country of 300,000,000 people, you will find a handful of anything.

Are reporters no longer taught statistics?  Do they know about things like standard deviations and statistical insignificance?

My grandfather fought the Nazis in World War II.  In fact, he was captured at the Battle of the Bulge and was a POW.  His brother was an officer who invaded France on D-Day.  To a young millennial, perhaps this is ancient history.  But to me and many of my age group, this is family history.  My grandfather's involvement in the war had a direct impact on my father's life, and in my own interactions with my grandparents, who divorced when my grandfather came home.

There is also some irony here, being grilled by two people whose grandfathers likely didn't fight the Nazis, didn't end up as POWs, didn't storm the beaches - since their country was neutral.  Their country did not fight the Nazis.  There are nearly 130,000 American military personnel buried in Europe.  But apparently we have a "Nazi problem" in our country.  I suppose a little gratitude is too much to ask, as is apparently, honesty.

I loath Nazism as much as I loath Communism.  They are two sides of the same coin.  The former is National Socialism, the latter is International Socialism.  Both are irredeemably evil.  The snotty implication that I somehow excuse Nazis, and the attempt to taint the movement to keep our monuments erected to commemorate veterans (not racism!) by linking it to National Socialism - is repugnant and untrue.

Of course, none of my remarks about Nazism made it into the article.  It didn't fit their narrative.

The next part of the article is a fabrication:
Welches meine Lieblingsstelle in der Bibel sei, fragt Pater Beane, nachdem ich ihm erzählt habe, dass mein Vater ebenfalls Pastor sei. Ich versuche ihn aus der Reserve zu locken und zitiere: «Es ist leichter, dass ein Kamel durch ein Nadelöhr geht, als dass ein Reicher in das Reich Gottes kommt.» Pater Larry Beane hält Kommunismus für ein Werkzeug des Teufels. Doch nur eine Sekunde lang ist der Pastor ausser Balance.
Which is my favorite Bible verse? asks Pater Beane when I tell him that my father was actually a pastor. I try to pull it from the memory banks, and quote: “It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.” Pater Larry Beane regards Communism as an instrument of the devil. The pastor is only out of balance for a second.
The actual exchange happened outside after the interview was over.  We were walking around behind the church near the playground equipment for children.  Anja asked me, suddenly as if it were a question she intended to ask, but forgot: "What is your favorite Bible verse?"  I sometimes get asked this question, but it's not an easy question to answer.  We Lutherans don't treat the Bible as "verses" - especially as a pastor.  We try to keep the verses in context.  We preach on "pericopes" - which are longer passages rather than "verses."  I answered that if I had to choose, I would say John 1:1: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."  This prologue of St. John's Gospel continues and it reaches its climax in verse 14: "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us."  This to me is the profound mystery of Jesus: the Word (Greek: λόγος, logos) who is God, the Word of God, by whom the universe comes into being, by the Word spoken by God.  And the Logos (that is, the divine reason, the divine mind) became human in the ultimate act of God's love for His people.  For the Word Made Flesh came to die and rise again, to pay for our sins, and give us the gift of His righteousness - which we don't deserve.

So central is this passage to Christianity, that until Vatican II, Roman Catholics heard this passage read in Latin at the end of every Mass: the Second Gospel.

Of course, I couldn't get into all of that in the time allotted, but I explained why this would be my "favorite verse" in a couple sentences.  Anja wasn't listening.  She just wanted to tell me her "favorite verse": Mark 10:25.

So she asked a question so that she could answer it herself - not caring at all about my answer, and even reversing the asking and answering in her untruthful version in the article.

The sad part is that Anja misses the entire beautiful point about Mark 10:25.  It isn't that the rich are evil, but that they too are saved by God's grace alone - which she would have known from reading verses 26 and 27.  Just two verses.  And Anja can take comfort that the rich are also saved by God's grace, because in global terms, she is rich.  She doesn't live in a log cabin in the taiga like the people I met in Siberia.  She doesn't live in a mud hut in the tropics without air conditioning like the parishioners of my Kenyan brothers in the ministry.  She gets to fly around the globe, write stories on high-tech equipment, stay in hotels, and eat on someone else's dime.  She is among the global One Percent who never worries about starvation, exposure, terrorism, hyperinflation, or being bombed into oblivion.

Perhaps this is why her favorite verse is Mark 10:25.

For being a pastor's daughter, she reflected a rather high degree of ignorance, not only of Christian doctrine, but even in recognizing things in the church common to all Christians.  I suspect there is more to her "pastor's daughter" story than meets the eye.  She could not even tell me what denomination her father belongs to.  But then again, many in her generation are clueless in matters of the Christian faith - which they only seem interested in denigrating.

For me, it was interesting that she expressed zero interest in my selection of a verse that includes the word "Word."  For a person who makes a living as a wordsmith, this struck me as oddly incurious.  After reading her inauthentic use of the exchange in the final article, it all became clear.

Anja's flight of fancy continues:
Dann sagt er mit stoischem Lächeln, dass eine Segregation der USA unvermeidbar sei. Die Aufspaltung des Landes kurz bevorstehe. Zu weit seien Kalifornien, New York und Connecticut von dem christlich geprägten, traditionellen Amerika entfernt, für das er eintritt. Er bete dafür, dass die Spaltung friedlich verlaufe. Dass es keinen Bürgerkrieg gebe, wenn es so weit sei.

Then he says with a Stoic smile that segregation is inevitable in the USA. The division of the country is imminent. California, New York, and Connecticut are too far removed from the traditional, Christian-influenced America which he represents. He is praying that the division is peaceful. That there is no civil war, if it should go so far.
This is a preposterous misrepresentation.  There are times when people choose to self-segregate, as often churches are "segregated" in this way, with "black" and "white" churches that reflect specific customs and cultures, as did "Irish" and "Italian" churches in times past.  This "segregation" is why there is Chinatown and Little Italy in Manhattan.  In that voluntary context, this isn't a bad thing, and in fact, it adds to the cultural diversity of our country.  Imagine if San Francisco had no Chinatown and if Cajun French were to be abolished in Louisiana.  Imagine a non-Irish Boston or an Oklahoma in which Indians are forced to assimilate.  Perhaps Anja is naive about the term "segregation" and how the word is actually used in American history.

The United States had a shameful version of racial apartheid up until the 1960s.  In the South, it was de jure and enforced by law; in the North, it was de facto and enforced by social custom.  That is a very different kind of segregation - one that has thankfully been abolished.  For the State to mandate and compel individuals to associate and disassociate with other individuals is a violation of what the State's purpose is in a republic - and especially in our American constitutional system.

Nobody has the right to tell me who I can and cannot associate with.  I have had friends from all around the world, from many ethnic and religious backgrounds, for as long as I can remember.  It is not the job of a government bureaucrat to tell me with whom to associate, and with whom I may not associate.

As far as the country dividing, many experts predict the eventual breakup of the US into regional unions, given the regional cultural diversity of America.  I do believe that our country is politically and socially divided, and toxically so.  I don't believe a breakup is "imminent" - but I do believe some kind of realignment is possible in my lifetime, although it is more likely in my son's lifetime.  Maybe it won't happen at all!  Who knows?  But when I was about Anja's age (when she was still a baby), I watched in real time as the Berlin Wall came down.  In short order, the USSR disbanded and Czechoslovakia peacefully divided. I watched on live TV as Nelson Mandela walked out of prison.  I remember the reunification of Germany.  Maps and globes had to be thrown away and replaced.  In our own time, we may be on the verge of seeing the Korean War finally end, and maybe the two Koreas will reunite.

Things change.  We hope they change peacefully.

As far as disparaging California, New York, and Connecticut (Connecticut?), it is true that the states on the coasts have a more leftist culture, and are at times condescending of "flyover country."  But poor Anja again missed the truth, which is far more interesting than her own orange Disney palace of her own fantasy.

So let me tell you how I feel about New York.  It can be summed up in the old tourist slogan: "I love NY!"

I lived and worked in New York for several years.  My job was in Westchester County, which was so expensive, that I was a boarder in a wonderful family's basement.  My best friends were two guys from India: one of which was my colleague Prayag: born in Assam and who moved to Meghalaya, a fascinating state where the indigenous people, the Khasis, are matrilineal and Christian and have a tradition of archery.  Prayag was a Hindu, and he taught me how to make masala chai long before it became a "thing" in America.  I also learned to appreciate sandlewood incense - which I still burn at home to this day.  And there is nothing like the tar-black Assam tea that practically leaves a residue on the roof of your mouth!

My other buddy was Prayag's roommate Bhaya, a Muslim from Bengal (India, not Pakistan), who was educated in Boston.  Bhaya was uproariously funny and quick-witted.

I used to spend weekends with my friends in their Upper East Side apartment.  I ate the greatest Indian food of my life.  I loved the noise of the city, the hustle and bustle, and the cosmopolitan devil-may-care attitude of New Yorkers.  My friends taught me enough words in Hindi (including some colorful curses) that I once kept an Indian cab driver in stitches to the point that he didn't want to take my fare money.  One time, Prayag, Bhaya, two other Indian friends, and I (that's five adults!) piled into my minuscule Ford Escort and drove from Manhattan to Wheeling, West Virginia to see a gilded Hare Krishna shrine.  Epic road trip!  Before it even started, I got rear-ended by a taxi at 4:00 am on the Upper-East side.  My car was disabled until AAA came and hit a reset switch (as I learned that morning, Escorts would shut down when hit to prevent explosions).  We were on our way.  Our trip was an absolute hoot.

My friends also routinely took me to Edison, New Jersey for Indian festivals.  Did I mention Indian food?  :-) It's funny how no matter what nationality of people you're dealing with, the older ladies all seem to think the young people are starving, and sternly (and lovingly) compel you to have another plate.  I was keen to oblige.  I can't tell you how much I loved my time in New York.

That's me with the mullet sitting on the steps!  :-)


Indian food makes everyone happy!

Poor Anja totally missed out on some great stories, preferring instead to paint me as a two-dimensional cartoon trope in her pre-written stereotype: half neanderthal, half Nazi.  I guess that sells copy in Switzerland.

There is another break for pictures with a caption that defies explanation:
Pater Larry Beanes lutheranische Gemeinde ist im Begriff auszusterben. Doch landesweit feiern konservative Christen, die wie der Pastor für ein Verbot von Abtreibungen und muslimischer Einwanderung einstehen, eine Renaissance, seit Trump an der Macht ist. 
Pater Larry Beane’s Lutheran congregation is about to die. Yet nationally there are celebrations among conservative Christians, who like the pastor are taking a stand for a ban on abortions and against Muslim immigration—a renaissance since Trump is in power.
About to die?  Aren't journalists at least supposed to pretend not to be fake news?  I told her that after Hurricane Katrina, we lost a lot of people.  The decline was gradual, as a lot of folks got other jobs and sold their homes.

She could have included some of my Katrina stories, such as my 80-year old parishioner who was rescued from his roof by helicopter (with his German shepherd), or the relief work several of us Lutheran pastors and laymen engaged in after the storm.  Katrina's impact on our region cannot be overstated.  I'm sure that didn't fit the McNarrative.

The post-Katrina demographic downturn in our region also caused the close of our parochial school in 2011.

But that trend has begun to reverse.  Our little city of Gretna is coming back to life, with new businesses and restaurants opening - right in our neighborhood.  In fact, I took Anja and her colleagues to eat at a newer restaurant that has a lovely view of the Mississippi River and the City of New Orleans across the river.  That didn't fit the stereotype either.

Our congregation is actually doing quite well!  Of course, Christianity is on the decline in our country, as younger people tend not to be interested in the faith.  That is the case everywhere.

The mention of Trump is important, as it really is what this story is about: hatred for Trump.  The Trump election was the trigger for this entire concept.  The caricature is that Trump is a racist, if not a full-blown Nazi, and he could only get elected because of evil, backward, gun-toting hillbilly Christians.  In fact, Anya and Yvonne's sojourn across America included a trek to West Virginia - not to see the magnificent scenery, or even to visit the people struggling with poverty after the coal mines closed - but rather to look into the opioid crisis.

Maybe one of the stereotypes they sought was the holy grail of the "Hillbilly Running a Meth Lab" (and Trump voter) - as each section in their series of articles had the name of the trope or stereotype for each person (mine being "Das  Superchrist" that is "The Extreme Christian").

They were quite interested in guns as well.  Yvonne was visibly deflated when I told her that I don't carry a gun.  Notice how that tidbit didn't make the article either.  I bet it would have been highlighted if I did carry a weapon.

In our discussions over the Confederate monuments and the story they tell, Yvonne was fixated on racism.  I tried to explain that in American history, there were always two visions of America: one, a strongly centralized nationalized model more in line with industrialization as put forth by Alexander Hamilton, the other, a decentralized democratic and agrarian model favored by Jefferson.  These two visions clashed all throughout our history.  In 1861, this crisis brought about a secession of the Southern states.  Our War Between the States was the nation's most deadly.  I had ancestors on both sides of the war.  My Southern ancestors weren't slave owners.  Why did they fight?  It was because of this vision of a decentralized America.  The light bulb seemed to go off in Anja's head at this point, as she chimed in: "Federalism!"  I explained that yes, that is exactly it, like Switzerland's decentralized structure of governance.  There are still many of us in America that favor true federalism: a Jeffersonian model of our Republic.  Like Lord Acton, that is the philosophy we see in the Confederate experience and in our monuments.  They are not, as leftists often report, tributes to white supremacy or anything of the sort (all one must do is read the inscriptions).  Of course, none of this conversation made the article.

That is my story - a story not given voice by my biased guests.  It didn't fit the narrative.

Yvonne wanted to know why Christians voted for Trump, you know, because Trump used bad language.  I explained that the American people were not voting for a pastor, but rather for a person to preside over the executive branch of the federal government.  They seemed ignorant about how our system works.  One of the president's duties is to appoint Supreme Court justices - which is critical when it comes to abortion.

We talked at length about abortion and why it matters - which of course did not make it into the article, as it doesn't fit the stereotype.  I explained that Christians believe each and every human being is created in God's image, and that every life is sacred, regardless of size, utility to society, race, creed, sex or sexual preference, etc.  That being said, we view abortion as a holocaust.  People are free to disagree with us, but we see each abortion as the murder of a person, a human being.  We do not oppose abortion because we hate women, but to the contrary, we love them.  They have the right to be born.  Our doctrine of the sacredness of life applies to people in comas, the handicapped, elderly people who are seen as "inconvenient" - everybody.  Yvonne seemed surprised to hear this, but I noticed that neither of them had the guts to put any of this in the article.

It didn't fit their agenda.

They also asked about Muslims.  They seemed surprised to hear that not far from my church is a mosque and a Muslim school.  We routinely see Muslim families at our local Chick-Fil-A restaurant.  I explained the stereotype-defying meaning of this.  Chick-Fil-A is owned by Christians.  They play Christian instrumental music in the restaurants.  They close on Sunday so that employees can go to church.  The New Yorker just ran a hit piece on Chick-Fil-A that serves to expose their own prejudices and hatreds.

And this restaurant, near my home and church, is where you will meet many Muslims.  Clearly, they feel accepted there.

None of that made it into the article.

Neither did this:

The local Muslim school has Girl Scouts.  Their troop ran into a problem and could not meet at their usual place.  Our Girl Scout leaders asked if they could meet in our church's parish hall.  Of course!  The Muslim group offered to pay, and we declined.  We opened our doors to them.  I thought nothing more about it, but a few days later, I received a gift from them: a box of some souvenirs from Jerusalem.  Anja and Yvonne wanted to find anti-Muslim hatred.  Instead, they found something else that they could not report in their article.  They didn't dare.  They might have had to rewrite the story from scratch.  The truth did not fit their agenda.

This next section serves to demonstrate the laziness of these Republikan writers:
So radikal er denkt, so höflich ist er. Galant verabschiedet er uns. Später, zurück im Hotel, schaue ich mir sein Facebook-Profil genauer an. Beane postet dort Artikel über die «Feminazisierung» der Kirche, über Chelsea Clintons angebliche Grussbotschaft an die «Kirche Satans», über den «IS-Terroristen», den London zum Bürgermeister gewählt hat. Fake-News und Hasstiraden: Im Netz ist der nette Pastor ein Hetzer. Er zählt zu den Superchristen, die in den USA zuletzt rasant an Einfluss gewonnen haben – Hardcore-Evangelikale, die Tugendhaftigkeit für Nächstenliebe halten und das Jüngste Gericht herbeisehnen, weil sie an keine andere Gerechtigkeit glauben können als an die von Himmel und Hölle.

He is as polite as his thinking is radical. Gallantly he bids us adieu. Later, back in the hotel, I examine his Facebook profile in greater detail. There Beane posts articles about the “feminazification” of the church, about Chelsea Clinton’s greetings message to the “church of Satan,” about the “IS-Terrorist” which London elected as mayor. Fake News and hate tirades: online, the nice pastor is an agitator. He counts as extreme Christians those who have rapidly gained influence in the USA — Hardcore evangelicals, who regard virtue as a love for neighbor, and long for the Final Judgment, because they cannot believe in any other righteousness than that of heaven and hell.
This is the crescendo of the article, where Anja sums up the "Extreme Christian" stereotype and really gets ugly in the process.  But her laziness and sloppiness are a thing to behold.  If I were her editor, I would be pretty upset with the quality of her work, her lack of fact-checking, her snap judgments, and her quickness to draw cocksure conclusions in this, her one and only visit to the United States, not to mention her conclusions about me after one conversation and three social media posts.

Notice that Anja merely mentions these posts.  She doesn't provide a link or a screen-shot, nor even a quote. Nearly all of my posts at the time of her article were public.  You can search for the posts she is referencing.  The first one about the "feminazification of the church" is egregious.  The word is not "feminazification" but "feminization."  Here is the link (posted on January 5 of this year).



This was posted on January 5 of this year, and is a three-part presentation (audio) of Rev. Dr. Steven Hein, presenting at the CCLE (Consortium of Classical Lutheran Education) conference last year.

His presentation has nothing to do with "feminazis" or anything to do with feminism or the modern controversy about gender and gender identity.  Had Anja listened to the first three minutes of the first lecture, she would have known that this talk involves the Biblical feminine metaphor of the Bride of Christ (the church collectively) and its counterpart, the Biblical masculine metaphor of the individual Christian, and how this balance evolved from the middle ages, especially reflected in prayers, hymns, and devotional literature through the ages.

Anja is virtually accusing this truly gentle professor of "hate speech" (Hasstiraden).  In some jurisdictions, hate-speech is criminal.  In American jurisprudence, falsely accusing someone of a crime may be actionable.  Anja would do well to be less reckless for the sake of her career and her editors who may be exposed to lawsuits on account of her lack of verbal precision.

Her next of three "mentions" (not citations) involves Chelsea Clinton and the Church of Satan.  She implies that this is "fake news."  Is it?  Here is the link (posted on January 4 of this year):



I shared this piece from The Hill.  Far from being "fake news," The Hill is the newspaper of record on Capitol Hill and in DC.  The article cites Chelsea Clinton's own tweets, giving the Church of Satan a shout-out.  I defend her right to do so.  But I find the whole thing funny, and so I made a joke about it.

It sure sounds different than Anja's sinister implications when you actually have the citations, doesn't it?  Her reticence to avoid any citation also makes sense because Anja lied about finding these posts, "Later, back in the hotel, I examine his Facebook profile in greater detail."  Well, that's impossible because the "Feminization" article was posted on January 5, 2018, and the Chelsea Clinton Article was posted on January 6 (the byline of the Hill piece is January 3).  Both of these posts to my Facebook page, which she claims to have found back in September 2017, did not exist until January, 2018.  Her article was published January 24, 2018.

Remember what Mark Twain said about telling the truth?

Finally, Anja claims I called the mayor of London an "IS terrorist" - which she surrounds in quotation marks (with no actual citation, of course).  Well, here is the link (September 15, 2017 - this one's timing is plausible):



Sadiq Khan, like most of his leftist political cohorts in Europe, is more concerned about political correctness than in protecting the people who elected him.  I never called him an "IS-terrorist" but rather made a satirical joke that he is helping the terrorists.

Looking at how unsafe London has become, combined with Khan's complete inability to take responsibility, makes him part of the problem.

This is Anja's "evidence"?  I can see why she didn't cite or quote these Facebook posts, and in one case, changed the name of the presentation and mischaracterized it.  How is this anywhere near actual journalism?  What makes Anja's writing any different than amateur blogging or casual Facebook posting?  Why would anyone want to pay for this kind of writing?

And she got yet another fact wrong.  Lutherans are not Evangelicals in this context.  This takes some understanding of the religious landscape in America to understand - something Anja clearly didn't, nor cared to find out.  In Reformation Germany, Lutherans preferred to be called Evangelicals instead of Lutherans.  Many American churches - including my own - use both terms in their official names.

But the term "Evangelical" has evolved over time to include non-Lutherans.  The term has further been winnowed to indicate Protestant churches that are not "mainline" or "historic" bodies, including Baptists, Pentecostals, and non-denominational Christians.  These churches have a specific culture, exegetical tradition, worship practice, and view of politics.  Although there is some overlap, Lutherans (and Roman Catholics) are not in this category.  Anja ought to know better, especially as she is setting herself up as an authority and pontificating about the role of religion in America and American culture.

She should at least get the basics correct.

I suspect that Anja had already planned out the "Extreme Christian" trope, and had to make due with me.  With ham fists, she has to pound the square peg into the round hole, by means of omission and commission, using deception, and outright lying.

Truth be told, I'm not a very good stereotype of the "Extreme Christian" that she wants to portray.  As I told both Yvonne and Anja, there are things I like about Trump, and things I don't.  I'm too much of a peacenik to fit the mold.  I believe the U.S. should close its bases around the world and bring our troops home.  I believe the US is much too belligerent and bellicose, and its interventions have caused blowback and radicalization that has not made the world safer.  I'm against Trump's bombing of Syria.  I believe that the federal government is too large and too powerful.  I believe we could learn from Switzerland.

Moreover, I support the legalization of prostitution and drugs - not because these things are moral, but because regulation of these things are not the job of the state.  I'm culturally conservative, but politically libertarian.  I do not believe the government should support religion, but I do believe that the state has an obligation to respect the religious liberties of all people.

I live in a racially mixed neighborhood.  It might be difficult for Anja and Yvonne to relate to this, living in a nation whose demographics are nowhere near as racially diverse as my neighborhood.  Switzerland admits very few migrants, even as Anja and Yvonne bash Donald Trump for enforcing national borders.  The EU's mandates to take in refugees from the middle east have no effect on Switzerland.  Switzerland also has a minaret ban.

Anja and Yvonne do not understand America, and they really don't understand the South and South Louisiana. They are ignorant of our history and clueless of our folkways.  But none of that stops them from pontificating as if they have lived their entire lives here.  They are not 21st century versions of Alexis de Tocqueville.  Nowhere near.

I'm 54 years old, and I have lived my entire life here.  I've lived and worked in the north and south, the east coast and the midwest.  I've lived in big cities, small cities, small towns, and suburbs.  I have traveled to thirty-seven of our states.  I know my country, and I love my country - warts and all.  I get the subtleties and nuances that a girl in her twenties who has never been here before cannot even begin to comprehend, let alone hold forth as an expert.

On Anja's Facebook timeline, on the day that she contacted me by FB text, she posted that her "colleague came prepared" with a picture of the book called White Trash (it was not a public post, but I have a screen shot).  At least Anja and Yvonne were honest online about their smugness, their bias, and their hatred of our country and its people.  The next day, September 11, the same day that we met for the first time, Anja posted an unflattering picture of herself drinking a beer out of a paper bag (again, a non-public post, but I have a copy).  I suppose this is the time frame when she claims she was researching my social media posts.  That about sums it up for me.  I can only wonder if Anja and Yvonne were as sloppy and outright dishonest with other people they met in their romp through America.  I know they were in their interview with KK and Shirlron.  Unfortunately, my German is not good enough to read the rest of their series.  Maybe others can look into it.

My final thoughts about this encounter is that Anja and Yvonne are going to get caught.  They will lie about the wrong person and harm someone's reputation, someone important.  They and Republik will find themselves in court.

If Anja and Yvonne want to see Nazi-style propaganda and fake news, perhaps they could read their own article.  Whoever financed Anja's and Yvonne's trip ought to get their money back.

So will we keep the Republik?  Not even Dr. Franklin could answer that.

It seems that our Benjamin Franklin actually did say this:



Not to be outdone, maybe we need to give the last word to the cheeky Mark Twain, who I think may be onto Swiss Journalism in our own day:


Wednesday, May 02, 2018

You're Offended? You're Welcome!



In the current cultural environment, when we offend people - particularly millennials and youthful Marxists - we are doing them a favor. It's kind of like free mentoring, therapy, and life-coaching. 

First of all, it teaches the important lesson of tolerance: the acceptance of other people with diverse opinions and the freedom to formulate and express them without fear of violence. They are not learning this rudiment of civilized discourse in their $60k/year daycare centers. 

Second, it teaches humility: you don't get to impose your will on everyone else. This is a very important life lesson. You have to deal with things you cannot control: sickness, accidents, storms, family issues, etc. Life is filled with such things, and we are powerless to make them go away by throwing a tantrum or a brick through a window. 

Third, it teaches resilience: you will not contort into the fetal position and revert to an incoherent blob of tears and primal screeching if you see or hear something you don't like.  You can handle it. Human beings are capable of remarkable mental endurance. Words may hurt your feelings, but as Eleanor Roosevelt said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."  Or as our parents taught us, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but..."

Bonus: it teaches a healthy skepticism of 'official' or 'unquestionable' narratives - as these are often used by politicians and others to divide, conquer, and control. Rather than adopt the knee-jerk PC position because it is popular, why not fairly investigate the narrative to see if it is objectively true?  

While we don't have to look for dragons to slay, we shouldn't back away from expressing opinions, displaying symbols, or using language that is acceptable to us.  We don't have to use made-up pronouns or throw our ancestors under the bus. We should not shrink from being patriotic, loyal to western civilization and its values, or from questioning the pop-culture narratives. If we favor traditional morality and/or tried and true political and economic premises that have fallen into disfavor, we should say so. We can be both polite and firm. We can refuse to kowtow and see ourselves instead as people with real-world experience, with something valuable to teach those who in many cases, have no real connection to the wisdom of elders, as our families and societies lay in shambles since the 1960s, nor any experience in the real world. Maybe we are called to teach by refusing to be forced into a closet or to the back of the bus. 

So if they are offended, good. 

They'll thank us later when they have grown up and learned to deal with the real world: a world of mothers and fathers, boys and girls, of raising children and caring for others, of serving customers and earning a living, and of objective truth - a world without safe spaces, language police, and without an Orwellian dean of diversity (sic) to ensure lockstep uniformity of thought. 

So when you hear, "I'm offended!", maybe we should say, "You're welcome!"

Here is an interesting and thought-provocative presentation on why political correctness needs to be resisted:


Sunday, April 29, 2018

Sermon: Cantate (Easter 5) - 2018


29 April 2018

Text: John 16:5-15 (Jas 1:16-21)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

When the Spirit of truth comes, He will guide you into all truth,” says our blessed Lord, preparing the disciples for the coming of the Holy Spirit.

Often, as reported by John in his Gospel, our Lord Jesus preaches and teaches, saying, “Truly, truly, I say to you” and “I tell you the truth.”  And at our Lord’s trial, a frustrated Pontius Pilate, who at times sounds like he is on trial instead of Jesus, asks, “What is truth?”

Our Lord also said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”

The opposite of the truth is the lie.  Our Lord refers to Satan as the father of lies.  The first recorded lie in Scripture was spoken by the devil to Eve, “You will not surely die.”

This conflict between the truth and the lie is both ancient, and cosmic.  As thinking creatures crafted in the image of God, mankind takes in information about the world.  He assesses his situation.  He decides.  He acts.  Without truthful information, he can destroy himself or others.  This is why lying under oath in a court of law is itself a crime.  This is why the Eighth Commandment protects the reputation of each human being by condemning “false witness.” 

And this is why, dear friends, we need a Helper, to help us navigate this Satanic web of deception, this minefield of the world, the devil, and our own sinful flesh.  The Lord ascends to the Father and sends this Helper to us, and this is indeed to our advantage.  For in truth, He convicts the world, “concerning sin, and righteousness, and judgment.”

As our Lord promises, “When the Spirit of truth comes, He will guide you into all truth.”

The Holy Spirit’s main job, dear friends, is to lead us, to guide us, to be that lamp unto our feet and a light unto our path, to keep us from stumbling into error and falsehood, to help us discern the truth from the lie, to embrace that which is real and accurate, and to flee that which is a mirage or a deception.

Our sinful flesh is quick to accept an enticing lie, especially when it fits a narrative that appeals to us.  We are eager to believe gossip if it is about someone we dislike.  We are eager to believe lies that are even obvious – if we think we stand to gain – which is how con men operate.  Our egos are especially open to the lie that we can be like God, a whopper that mankind has been believing since the serpent slithered up to Eve and whispered sweet monstrosities in her ever-willing ear.

There are many other lies Satan would have you believe, dear friends.  You may wonder if baptism really saves you, or if a pastor really has authority to speak forgiveness to you in Christ’s name and by His authority.  You may have your doubts about the reliability of Scripture, or if the bread and wine are truly the body and blood of Christ.  You may think that your sins are either too great to be forgiven, or too trifling to worry about.  You may be tempted to believe that the Church is filled with hypocrites, and that you are not one.  You may think you have all the answers and really have nothing to learn from a sermon.  You may have heard that Christianity is a bunch of ancient myths cobbled together, or that it is a conspiracy theory designed by the powerful to oppress the world’s workers, or peasants, or minorities, or women, or those whose sexual lives to not conform to the truth of biology.

We are awash in lies, dear friends.  We not only live in the midst of a culture of death, but also in a confusing matrix of lies.  The only way to exist in this deceitful world is to have a guide, a truthful guide, a Helper, who will lead us into all truth.

The Holy Spirit has caused the Scriptures to be written, and they are true.  The Holy Spirit draws you to the Word of God and to the Sacraments, and they are true.  The Holy Spirit testifies of the Lord Jesus Christ, and He is the truth.

“In the beginning was the Word.”  The Lord God, the Creator, commanded, and as a result, all things truly came into being.  This Creative Word was, is, and ever shall be, true.  The lie cannot create.  The lie can only corrupt.  The lie cannot generate.  The lie can only degrade.  The lie cannot edify.  The lie can only tear down that which is true.  The lie has no creative power or energy.  Only the Word who is God can bring the universe into being.

The Holy Spirit comes to the Church at Pentecost and fills her with zeal to proclaim the truth, to do so with courage and integrity, without guile and without deception.  The Holy Spirit comes to tell the truth far and wide: to friend and to foe, to believer and to unbeliever alike, the truth that Jesus Christ is the Lord, the true Word, the true God, the true atoning sacrifice, and the truly risen One.  He has truly defeated Satan by truly crushing the lie beneath His feet.

“Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers,” says St. James. “Of His own will He brought us forth by the Word of truth.” 

“When the Spirit of truth comes,” says our Lord Jesus, “He will guide you into all truth, for He will not speak on His own authority, but whatever He hears He will speak, and He will declare to you the things that are to come.”

Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sunday, April 22, 2018

Sermon: Jubilate (Easter 4) - 2018




22 April 2018

Text: John 10:11-16 (Ezek 34:11-16, 1 Pet 2:21-25)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Our Lord Jesus Christ died on the cross, was buried, and rose again.  For forty days, He appeared and preached and taught.  He baffled the authorities and filled the disciples with courage.  But this period of mentoring is drawing to a close.  The Lord will soon ascend to the Father, and “in a little while,” the Church will not see Him. 

At least not in the same way.

He will no longer walk and talk and eat with the disciples.  When they want to speak to Him, they will pray.  When they want to hear His Word, they will read the scriptures in the assembly.  When they want to hear His forgiveness, they will declare it in His name.  And when they wish to experience Him in the flesh, it will be through the Lord’s Supper.

And after a “little while,” says our Lord, we will see Him again.  He will return to turn our sorrow into joy: the sorrow of the fallenness of this world, to be changed into the joy of a new heaven and a new earth.

We wait for Him to return, dear friends, even as the angels told the disciples as they watched Him ascend into the heavens that He would indeed return.

This return, dear friends, is when we will see Him again, and when our “hearts will rejoice.”  It will be a “little while.”  Indeed, a “little while longer.”

But how impatient we are!  Instead of keeping our eyes on the prize of the promise, we wallow in self-pity and complaint of the cross.  We watch the world rejoice at our pain, our misery, our abuse – and we are indeed sorrowful.  We are often defeated in this hateful culture – by people who lie about us, about our faith, about our Savior, by people in power who abuse that authority given them from above, using that power to coerce, to torture, to curtail the liberties of our brothers and sisters around the world, and even here in our own country.

We are watching the world decay into not merely madness, but into a seething rage, a scapegoating our people in ways not seen since the days of the maniacal emperors of Rome.

St. Peter bids us to endure the privations placed upon us by emperors and Supreme Courts.  And when we are treated unjustly and yet endure the sorrows, “this is a gracious thing.”  Our forbearance in this fallen and violent world is a confession of faith – faith in something better to come.  We don’t have to overthrow the empire, for Jesus did that very thing, bringing the emperor Constantine to the faith without firing a single arrow, without rising up in mutiny, without living by the sword, which certainly means to die by the sword.

Our suffering is not a small thing, nor is our suffering in vain.  “So also,” says our Lord, “you have sorrow now, but I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no-one will take your joy away from you” – no one, dear friends, not a mentally unstable emperor, not a crooked court, not a culture of death, not swarms of people filled with hatred and rage, not Communists, not Nazis, not secularists, not even our own sinful flesh – will take our joy from us.

The Lord compares this “little while” of weeping and lamenting to the “anguish” of giving birth.  Labor pains and birth pangs are excruciating, but when they are over, they are over.  And instead of haunting memories of agony, there is rather “joy that a human being has been born into this world.”

Our Lord teaches us that our burdens and crosses that plague us, that beat us down, that wear us out in body and in mind, the things that vex us, perplex us, anger us, hurt us, and seem to have no end – will indeed one great day come to a screeching halt, never to be repeated again. 

We live for this great day, dear friends!  And it is the promise of this New Day that empowers us to survive and to endure the present days of suffering and strife, the time of the cross.  For we know that after Good Friday comes Easter.  And we know that the Lord goes away for a “little while,” and we know that we will see Him again. 
We know that “He does not faint or grow weary; His understanding is unsearchable.”  But what’s more, “He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might, he increases strength.  Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”

So, dear friends, let us not be puzzled like the disciples were, wanting to ask Him but perhaps afraid.  Let us pray fervently for His return, for our suffering to end, for the birth pangs of the fallen world to be replaced by a new and greater world, and above all, let us rejoice that a human being has been born into the world, a unique Human Being who is truly human, bearing completely the image and likeness of God, for He is God, even Jesus Christ our Lord, the man of sorrows whose suffering won true joy for us.

Let us yearn for that great and wondrous day when He will see us again, and our hearts will rejoice, and no one will take our joy from us!  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Sermon: Wednesday of Misericordias Domini (Easter 3) - 2018


18 April 2018

Text: John 10:11-16 (Ezek 34:11-16, 1 Pet 2:21-25)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

The readings for this week in the church year all have to do with sheep and shepherding. In fact, many know this past Sunday as Good Shepherd Sunday, even though it is technically Misericordias Domini – that is “the goodness of the Lord” of which the world is full, according to the Psalmist, just as we sang in our Introit.

For indeed, our Lord is the Good Shepherd, whose goodness fills the earth. Our Lord’s mercy is without limit. His love for His sheep knows no bounds. He will sacrifice everything, even His own life, for the sake of His sheep – especially His lost sheep, His wounded sheep, His sheep that are constantly assaulted by wolves and lions.
Our Shepherd is no mere hired hand. He is the Owner of the sheep, the Creator of the sheep, the very Author of the sheep. His interest is vested, not by virtue of having a boss overseeing His work, but because He is the Boss, the “Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.”

The metaphor of sheep and shepherd is perhaps the most comforting imagery in the Bible. Millions of saints have been laid to rest, amid peaceful green grass and still waters of cemetery grounds as statues of Jesus carrying a lamb look upon their graves, even as the pastor and his flock spoke the words of the 23rd Psalm: “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.”

In our culture, being free from want means “having it all” – anything our twisted hearts desire. It is a mindset of materialism and self-centeredness that seeks to bend or buy the wills of others to conform to our whims. “I shall not want” to most people means money, power, sensuality, and never having to submit to anyone. It is freedom from authority, and freedom to spend every waking hour playing games.

But the holy psalmist has something else in mind, as does our Blessed Lord.

In fact, the Hebrew word for “is my shepherd” in Psalm 23 is really understood as “leads me” or even “rules me.” The Lord is not my genie who grants all my wishes at my command, by my whim, and according to my will. Rather, the Lord is my overseer, my ruler, my master, and in submitting to Him is where we find green pastures and still waters.

We don’t “partner” with God, nor is he a kind of wizard who is there to make our wildest dreams come true if we follow the right spiritual program. Rather, He is the Lord, the slave-master, the ruler, and we find our happiness in submission to Him. The old Latin title for this blessed 23rd Psalm is “Dominus Regit Me” – which means literally: “The Dominator rules me.”

This is what it means to be a sheep. This is what it means to have a Shepherd. For when we sheep foolishly decide we don’t need to submit, when we become convinced we can “go it alone,” we wander off only to become food for the wolf. The last thing we sheep need to do is to listen to the world’s siren song to “think outside the box” and “leave our comfort zones.” Oh, what wonderful advice to sheep when it comes from a hungry wolf! But we are safe from the evil one in the “comfort zone” of our flock. There is safety in numbers, and most of all, we are protected when we are ruled by our Lord, when we let God be God, and we allow ourselves to be herded.

Our Lord Jesus is a true Shepherd. He is not a temporary employee and not a hired manager. He indeed “gives His life for the sheep.” The hireling, on the other hand, runs away from trouble and will not fight. But the Shepherd bears the crook, and does not hesitate to crack the skull of the enemy rather than see His beloved sheep
threatened. Our Lord both gave up His life for us sheep and was victorious over the evil wolf when He Himself, the Shepherd, became the Lamb; when He, the priest, became the victim; when he the Master, humbled Himself to become a Slave to His slaves.

The Good Shepherd knows His sheep by name, for they have been christened, that is “Christed” – anointed and named with Christ – in the still waters of Holy Baptism – as our little sister in Christ Anastasia was this past Good Shepherd Sunday. The Good Shepherd is also known by His own, by all of the baptized who submit to Him, for the Lord’s sheep do not follow the beckoning of every false shepherd and wolf in sheep’s clothing. He knows us, and we know Him. And it is in submission to Him who shepherds us that we want for nothing, we drink cool water, and we eat rich grass. It is in this submission that we are protected from the wolf, and are even rescued by the Good Shepherd when we, by our own rebellion and stupidity, wander from the flock. For as Ezekiel the shepherd prophesies: “I Myself” that is, the Lord, “will search for My sheep and seek them out… and deliver them…. I will feed them in good pasture.”

And listen to what this means for us sheep. Having been sought out, rescued, and led to safety by our Shepherd, listen to St. Peter, whom the Lord commanded: “Feed My sheep.” Peter, who was himself crucified for the Gospel, in turn shepherds us with this Word of the Good Shepherd: “For to this you were called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that you should follow His steps: ‘Who committed no sin, Nor was deceit found in His mouth,’ who when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered; He did not threaten, but committed Himself to Him who judges righteously; who Himself bore our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, having died to sins, might live for righteousness – by whose stripes you were healed. For you were like sheep going astray, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.”

Our Shepherd saves us from the evil wolf not only in protecting us from his wiles, but also in protecting us from our own sinful flesh. Our Shepherd is our Lord, not out of a lust for domination, but rather in selfless love for His dominion. And His use of authority - not for greed or self-aggrandizement, but rather out of love and mercy - serves as an example of authority for the whole Church on earth.
And this example is especially for pastors. “Pastor” is the Latin word for “shepherd.” Pastors are given stewardship over the Lord’s sheep. 

The pastor is to use his authority from above not for greed, gain, or domination, but rather in love, selflessness, and service to the sheep – even as the Shepherd of the shepherds, the Pastor of the pastors, the Bishop of the bishops, has done. Pastors need always remember that they must be willing to lay down their lives selflessly in service for the sheep, and the sheep, for their part, must realize that their pastor loves them, and lovingly guides them to the Lord who is our Good Shepherd, the Lamb who has ransomed the sheep, the Shepherd and Bishop of our souls. It is He, the Lord, who defends us all against ravening wolves and guides us to green pasture and still waters.

The King of love my Shepherd is,
Whose goodness faileth never.
I nothing lack if I am His
And he is mine forever.

Where streams of living water flow,
My ransomed soul he leadeth
And, where the verdant pastures grow,
With food celestial feedeth.

And so through all the length of days
Thy goodness faileth never;
Good Shepherd, may I sing Thy praise
Within Thy house forever! 
Amen.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Amen.

Sermon: Funeral of Joan Frichter


18 April 2018

Text: John 10:10b-15, 27-30 (Isa 25:6-9, 1 Cor 15:51-57)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Dear Shelia, Cynthia, Judy, family, friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, honored guests: Peace be with you.

It was my privilege to be Joan’s pastor for many years, to visit her with the Word of God and the Holy Sacrament, to pronounce Holy Absolution over her, and to proclaim the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ to her.

This word “Gospel” is lost on a lot of people.  Either it calls to mind a certain style of music, or some kind of fluffy religiosity.  But that’s not what “Gospel” literally means.  “Gospel” means “good news.”  And in spite of the sadness of losing a beloved aunt and step-mother and friend, in spite of the normal mourning that we all do in the passing away of a loved one, I’m here to bring you good news, dear friends, just as I brought good news to Joan.

It’s the same Good News that we Christians have been proclaiming for nearly 2,000 years now.  Too many people mistakenly think of the Christian faith as rules and regulations, or some kind of mythology, or worst of all, just a code word for being nice and inoffensive.

Jesus was, and is, offensive.  He insulted the self-righteous Pharisees with frank and shocking language.  He overturned the tables of the moneychangers in the Temple.  And most offensive of all, He suffered crucifixion so that unworthy sinners might have everlasting life: unworthy sinners like me, like Joan, and like you.  None of us deserves salvation, and it doesn’t matter how nice we may seem.  There is nothing more scandalous than the cross of Jesus and the promise of salvation that it delivers.

Joan knew this.  It’s what Scripture teaches.  It’s what Jesus teaches.  It’s what the Church teaches. And this shocking truth makes the Gospel just that more unbelievably good news. 

Jesus didn’t come so that Joan would live on in our hearts and memories.  Jesus didn’t come so that Joan would be a good person and as a result, “go to heaven.”  Jesus came so that Joan would literally be rescued and raised from death, just as He literally walked out of His own tomb, was seen and touched by eyewitnesses, and began a worldwide movement that not even Caesars and Caliphs and kings could extinguish; not even Communist dictators, Nazi fascists, or even people in our own country who hate Christianity – can ever destroy.  For you cannot destroy the truth.

Jesus didn’t come so that Joan could become an angel or float around some imaginary sky as a butterfly.  Jesus came for the sake of true, literal, physical resurrection: His own and Joan’s: “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly,” says Jesus, our good shepherd.  “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me.  I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no-one is able to snatch them out of My hand.”

This comforting ironclad promise was made to Joan when she was baptized.  This promise was reiterated to Joan each and every time that she took the body and blood of Christ.  This promise to Joan was signed at the cross, sealed at the baptismal font, and will be delivered on the day of the “resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.”

Joan knew all this very well.  This was her confession.  It is the confession of the church catholic, that is, the Church universal, from the days of the apostles until the day when the Lord returns in glory, when “the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed,” as St. Paul wrote to the ancient church at Corinth.  “When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written, ‘Death is swallowed up in victory.’  O death, where is your victory?  O death, where is your sting?”

That, dear friends, is what Christianity is.  Yes, we are hurting.  Yes, we are mourning.  Yes we grieve.  But we have hope: the hope the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ.  And that hope allows us to mock death, to taunt the devil, and to shockingly claim communion with God Himself, though we don’t deserve it.  It is a free gift given by grace, given by our crucified Lord, given for our eternal life.

That is indeed good news!  That is the Christian faith – the faith Joan confessed, the faith that delivers to her eternal life in Christ, the reason why I visited her with Word and Sacrament.  That promise is Joan’s, and it is hers for all eternity.

So many people think of heaven as a kind of Pagan paradise with clouds and spirits floating around.  That is not Christianity.  Our faith teaches something quite different: something infinitely better.  The prophet Isaiah speaks of a physically reconstituted earth.  And “on this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined…. He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord will wipe away tears from all faces… for the Lord has spoken.”

And even in our mourning, even in our sadness that we are temporarily separated from our beloved Joan, in the promise of Christ’s fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy, we can indeed, “be glad and rejoice in this salvation.”

And so, dear friends, I challenge you, even in your grief, to take comfort in the good news, the Gospel, that Jesus died for our sins and rose for our justification, that He is the good shepherd who has come to give us life – real, physical life that will have no end.  This victory is Christ’s.  This victory is Joan’s.  This victory is ours – now and even unto eternity!  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sunday, April 15, 2018

Sermon: Misericordias Domini (Easter 3) and Baptism of Anastasia Tindell - 2018


15 April 2018

Text: John 10:11-16 (Ezek 34:11-16, 1 Pet 2:21-25)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Because of the Gospel reading this week, in which Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd,” this Sunday is often called Good Shepherd Sunday.  Our Old Testament lesson from Ezekiel prophesies that God Himself will shepherd His people (a prophecy fulfilled by Jesus, the Good Shepherd).  Our epistle lesson from St. Peter also follows this theme: “For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.”

And this is what has happened with little Anastasia this morning, dear friends.  As part of her baptism, you heard these words: “The Word of God also teaches that we are all conceived and born sinful and are under the power of the devil.”  This is what Peter means when he says, “You were straying like sheep.”  That goes for all of us sons of Adam and daughters of Eve – including Anastasia.

We strayed when we listened to the serpent.  We strayed when we disobeyed God.  We strayed with that first murder between brothers.  We strayed when we brought on the worldwide flood.  We strayed when we built the Tower of Babel.  We strayed when we followed after idols instead of the true God.  We strayed when we demanded to have an earthly king rule over us.  We strayed when we mocked the prophets who called us to repent and who faithfully spoke the Word of God to us.  We strayed when we took the Lord’s blessing for granted.

We strayed just by being born into this fallen world in our own sinful flesh, programmed by our broken DNA to be selfish and evil, riddled with sin, and destined for death and hell.

But, dear friends, St. Peter says, “you were straying like sheep.”  He uses the past tense: “you were.”  But now, because you “have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls,” you are now hearing the Good Shepherd as He gathers you into His “one flock” as “one shepherd.”  This is what Holy Baptism is all about.  The Lord Jesus is the Good Shepherd.  He “lays down His life for the sheep.”  He, the Shepherd, is willing to die so that His sheep might live.  He defends His sheep against the wolf.  He doesn’t run away like a “hired hand,” but interposes Himself bodily against the enemy, out of love and devotion for the sheep. 

He is the good shepherd!  He is the “Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.” 

And that “your” now includes Anastasia, whose very name is a confession of the Good Shepherd.  Her name is the Biblical Greek word that means “resurrection.”  She is the new birth, born again from death itself, reborn by water and the Spirit, born to live forever according to the promises of Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd!

In the baptismal liturgy, we heard that “the apostle Peter has written, “Baptism now saves you.”  This baptism, St. Peter explains, is “an appeal to God for a good conscience through the resurrection of Jesus Christ.”  Anastasia now has a good conscience because of the death and resurrection of the Good Shepherd.  She has been made a disciple and named as one of the Good Shepherd’s little lambs, whom our Shepherd and Overseer specifically knows by name.  And again, that “good conscience” comes “through the resurrection,” that is, the ἀναστάσεως, of Jesus Christ.

Anastasia has been buried with Christ in Holy Baptism.  This means that she has been reborn by resurrection, and she will be resurrected by being reborn.  This is not of her own goodness or works, but rather by the grace of the Good Shepherd.  For “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.  For by His wounds you have been healed.”

Little Anastasia has her whole life ahead of her.  We, her pastor, her brothers and sisters in Christ, her family, her sponsors, and all Christians whom the Lord will bring into her life, are called to teach this little resurrected one, by word and by deed, just what it means to “die to sin and live to righteousness.”  It doesn’t mean that she will be perfect, but she will learn right from wrong.  She will be taught the Ten Commandments.  She will also know of the Gospel and the love and redemption of Christ by being taught the Creed and the Lord’s Prayer.  She will be brought up in the Lord’s House, surrounded by the Word of God and prayer, by worship and praise, by forgiveness and acceptance.  She will, God willing, live a long life of mercy of partaking of the body and blood of the Good Shepherd, and constantly being drawn back to the safety of the flock by the “Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.” 

She will know what the cross is: the one that our Lord died on for the forgiveness of sins, by which His blood pleads for our forgiveness and life and salvation, as well as her own cross of life in this fallen world, dealing with pain and disappointment, and death.  But she will also know what it means to be “Anastasia,” to be a child of the resurrection!  She will know both Good Friday and Easter Sunday, and She will know her Good Shepherd! 

But more importantly, her Good Shepherd will know her!  “So will I seek out My sheep, and I will rescue them from all places,” thus says the Lord God.

This is why we sheep of the Good Shepherd have been singing our opening hymn for eighteen hundred years:

Shepherd of tender youth,
Guiding in love and truth
Through devious ways;
Christ our triumphant King,
We come Your name to sing
And here our children bring
To join your praise.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Friday, April 13, 2018

A Tale of Two Crosses



The roadside cross in the first picture is in the United States (Bladensburg, Maryland).  It is a memorial to Americans who died in World War I.  The roadside cross in the second picture is in the Russian Federation (Yekaterinburg, Sverdlovskaya).  It is a memorial to Russian GULAG victims who died in Stalin's purges.

One of these memorials has been declared illegal by the government, and now must be torn down.

If you think that the illegal cross must be the one in Russia, you would be wrong.  The American cross is illegal; the Russian cross is legal.  The iconoclastic federal judges who ruled the nearly century-old memorial unconstitutional were overwhelmingly Obama-appointees.

It looks like we Americans are, in the words of the Beatles' song, "Back in the US, back in the US, back in the USSR."




Sermon: Funeral of Jean Richoux


13 April 2018

Text: John 20:1-18 (Isa 49:13-16a, 1 Cor 15:51-57)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Dear Liz, Jason, Matthew, Mark, family, friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, honored guests: Peace be with you.

It might seem strange to the average person to come to a funeral and to look around and see the church decked out in the happy festive color of white, to be surrounded with gleeful lilies, to hear readings that encourage us to “sing for joy” and proclaim the “victory through our Lord Jesus Christ,” and to sing hymns that, while acknowledging the reality of death in our fallen world, are nevertheless defiantly happy.

But for Christians, this makes perfect sense. 

Indeed, we are sad.  We are grieving.  We are stunned.  We miss our sister, mother, grandmother, friend, and parishioner.  We wanted her to recover, but it was not God’s will.  And this hurts.  And it will continue to hurt.  We Christians grieve, but, dear friends, we do not grieve in the same manner as everyone else.  For we grieve as those who have hope. 

For us Christians, death is a temporary parting.  And we know that our reunion will be joyful and glorious beyond anything our eyes will ever see in this fallen world.  And we know that Jean, a baptized child of God, who confessed Jesus as Lord over the span of her life, she whose sins were forgiven through the blood of the Lamb, she who partook of the body and blood of Christ, she who heard the Word of God and took to heart the Gospel – she has eternal life as a free gift of Jesus Christ.  She has been reunited to her Lord Jesus, to her husband Ronald, and to her loved ones who live eternally in Christ.

And this, dear friends, is why even in our sadness, we have joy.  And like Jean did all her life, and as she now does for eternity, we are bold to “Sing for joy,” even the mountains “break forth… into singing” because “the Lord has comforted His people and will have compassion on His afflicted.”  These are the words of the prophet Isaiah, who spoke the literal words of Christ in a promise made to Jean, to her family, to her friends, to all baptized Christians everywhere, saying: “Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of My hands.”

Dear friends, that is why we sing these beautiful and joyful Easter hymns.  For they are hymns of the resurrection of Jesus, of His victory of life over death.  And that is Jean’s victory over death as well.  And that is something to sing about!  When you come to this sanctuary and you lift up your voice in song, your voice is intermingled with Jean’s voice.  She sings in the presence of Jesus – even as Jean loved to sing on this side of the grave – be it here in our sanctuary, or in a Karaoke bar!  These hymns that we sing on this day, and every other day in the church, are not merely entertainment – they are defiance against Satan, who would try to rob us of our joy.  Our songs defy the grave itself, the same grave that was powerless against our Lord Jesus Christ.  And that is indeed something to sing about.

The Church’s song is Jean’s song.  So sing boldly, dear friends!  For you sing with Jean and with all the saints and angels of every age.

As St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written, ‘Death is swallowed up in victory.’  ‘O death, where is your victory?  O death, where is your sting?’  The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.  But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Yes, we still feel the sting of death on this side of the grave, because we miss our loved ones who have departed.  But we also know that Jesus has defeated sin, death, and the devil, and we can mock death and Satan himself –
because of our Lord’s victory.

Even as Jean was bearing her cross in the hospital, she was at that moment confessing the resurrection of Jesus – as the children of our congregation joyfully received the candy that Jean bought them for Easter.  For ultimately, the Christian faith is not about a beautiful church sanctuary and white lilies, but rather these things of beauty are signs and symbols that point to the most beautiful reality of all: that Jesus rose from death, to conquer death, and to give us life.

On that first Easter Sunday, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb.  She was mourning the loss of her Master and Lord.  But she found some unexpected things that day: a tomb that was a place of joy and victory, angels dressed in white, and folded linen on the table where the body of Jesus was supposed to be.  The angels asked her why she was weeping, for this was no longer a place of death, but of life. 

And then the risen Lord Jesus appeared, called her by name, and comforted her. 

And even as the Lord comforts us, He calls Jean by name.  Her mourning is no more!  And we all wait for that great and glorious day when we will see her again in the flesh.

And we can join with Jean and with all the faithful of every time and place, singing:

And then from death awaken me,
That these mine eyes with joy may see,
O Son of God, Thy glorious face,
My Savior and my fount of grace.
Lord Jesus Christ, my prayer attend, my prayer attend,
And I will praise Thee without end.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sunday, April 08, 2018

Sermon: Quasimodo Geniti (Easter 2) - 2018




8 April 2018

Text: John 20:19-31

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

“Do not disbelieve, but believe,” says our risen Lord Jesus Christ.  He doesn’t order us to believe based on blind faith, but He does require faith – faith in something that we experience in person, even as He says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

In the case of doubting Thomas, our crucified and risen Lord was so merciful as to allow Thomas to touch the wounds made by the nails and the spear at His crucifixion, because, for whatever reason, Thomas was hung up on this point: that Jesus had risen from the dead.  Our Lord gave Thomas’s faith something to cling to.

And Thomas responds: “My Lord and my God!”

As for us, we are given the Scriptures, for as the Evangelist explains: “These are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name.”

“Do not disbelieve, but believe.”

Often the difference between disbelief and belief is a thin line.  Consider St. Thomas: a disciple of Jesus for three years, who would become an apostle, carrying the Gospel as far as India, and, it seems, dying as a martyr, making the good confession of the faith of Jesus Christ.  Thomas witnessed the great miracles of our Lord: turning water into wine, feeding the five thousand, curing lepers, the deaf, the blind, casting out demons, and even raising the dead.  But for some reason, the idea that His Lord Jesus Christ, whom he saw crucified, was raised from the dead, just did not seem credible – even when the other disciples claimed that they had seen Him.

Maybe this was part of Thomas’s stumbling-block: being excluded from that first appearance. 

For whatever reason, it seems remarkable that Thomas would be so filled with disbelief, and passionately so, stubbornly saying: “Unless I see in His hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into His side, I will never believe.” 

Often the difference between belief and disbelief has less to do with evidence, and more to do with emotion.

Similarly, there are two kinds of atheists: those who do not believe in God, and those who do.  Honest atheists, for whatever reason, truly do not believe in God.  They generally don’t believe in the supernatural.  They are typically materialists, and in a sense, like St. Thomas, requiring a level of physical evidence that they are yet to see.  But there is another kind of atheist, one who is actually angry at God, or one who thinks God is horrible, or one who doesn’t want God to impose rules on his lifestyle. 

Of course, this latter form of atheist is a walking contradiction.  What he knows and what he “believes” are out of sync.  Often this is an atheist that is governed by emotion, not reason.  His disbelief is caused by resentment rather than reasonable doubt.

Similarly, Thomas’s doubt was unreasonable.  Perhaps he was hurt that the Lord had excluded him on that first appearance.  Maybe the disciples came across as condescending when they said, “We have seen the Lord” to Thomas, who did not see Him. 

At any rate, the Lord, in His mercy, provided Thomas with the gift of faith.  He allowed Thomas to see and to touch.  And He bade Thomas, “Do not disbelieve, but believe.”

“My Lord and my God!” says believing Thomas!

“My Lord and my God!” says the Christian confronted with the paradox of his own existence, when faced with the dilemma of creation out of nothing, when he comes to grips with the reality that not everything that is real can be put into a test tube and analyzed: things like love, things like personality, things like the blessing of “those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

Dear brothers and sisters, the story of Thomas and his week of doubt is of great comfort to us.  Our weak flesh often doubts.  We may doubt the existence of God.  We may wonder if Jesus is the Son of God.  We may question the incarnation or the resurrection.  We may be skeptical of the atonement.  We may simply lack the faith that our Lord’s death on the cross forgives my sins, or saves me from sin, death, and the devil.  Our doubts may not be addressed to Jesus at all, but rather towards ourselves. 

But let us remember Thomas, whose account has been placed before us by the Holy Spirit.  St Thomas walked with Jesus, saw miracles with his own eyes, and would himself be one of the Lord’s greatest evangelists.  Yet even Thomas struggled with doubt.  And what restored him, dear friends, was not his “own reason or strength,” but the Holy Spirit who “called [him] by the Gospel, enlightened [him] with His gifts” and “sanctified and kept [him] in the one true faith.”

And, dear brothers and sisters, “in the same way, He calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies” you, “with Jesus Christ in the one true faith.”  This is how it is that the Lord Jesus, in His very flesh and blood, can simply tell Thomas: “Do not disbelieve, but believe.”

For we have “these [things that] are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ.”  We also have His very flesh and blood in physical form, in the bread that we eat, in the wine that we drink, that are His true body and blood: the very same body touched by Thomas, and the very same blood that Thomas saw shed upon the cross from the very wounds that he handled.

“Do not disbelieve, but believe.”

Jesus rose from the grave, and He has won the victory for us.  Jesus continues to come to us in Word and Sacrament, so that we too might see and hear and take and eat – and believe.  Jesus continues to convert the unbeliever into the believer, even as He strengthens our faith – especially given that by our own “reason or strength” we cannot believe in Jesus or come to Him.

But, dear brothers and sisters, by His own reason and by His own strength, Jesus believes in us and He comes to us.  He loves us; He dies for us; He atones for us; He forgives us; He instills faith in us, and He gives us eternal life.  By the Holy Spirit, He changes our unbelief into belief. 

And we respond in joyful wonder and in exuberant belief: “My Lord and my God!”

“Do not disbelieve, but believe.”  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sunday, April 01, 2018

Sermon: Easter Sunday - 2018


1 April 2018

Text: Mark 16:1-8 (Job 19:23-27, 1 Cor 15:51-57)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Our Gospel reading for Easter Sunday, the holiest and most glorious day of the church year, the feast in which we celebrate the victory of our crucified, dead, and buried Lord Jesus Christ who has risen from the dead – our Gospel reading actually ends with the word “afraid.”

The very first people on the planet to get this greatest of all good news in the history of mankind were “afraid.” 

This goes to show you how real, how authentic, our Gospel is.  This natural reaction of the Marys and Salome to this mind-blowing experience wasn’t doctored up.  Their very real human weakness in reacting to the supernatural with “trembling and astonishment” and not speaking to anyone because “they were afraid” truly captures the moment.  The fact that the Evangelist reports the first witnesses of this momentous change in the fabric of the universe being women is also something that a fiction writer would not make up.  For in those days, the testimony of women was considered unreliable.

But God has broken all the rules.  More accurately, He has thrown out the rulebook.  He mocks the rulebook (the rulebook being the way things are supposed to work in this fallen world).  Oh, that’s all done for now.  Death’s reign of terror has ended.  Satan’s tyranny has been abruptly shattered.  Hell’s frightening jaws have been snapped shut.  And starting now, the world is going to be turned upside down.  We are never going back to the way things were. 

In the span of a few minutes, everything changed. 

Think about what the women experienced that Easter morning at the tomb.  As the gloom of night begins to give way to the initial rays of daylight, they sadly trudged their way to the grave of the one Man in whom they had placed all their hope.  They watched Him perform Godlike miracles for three years.  They watched prophecy after prophecy fulfilled.  They saw Him heal the sick, expel the demon, and even raise the dead.  They listened to Him destroy the arguments of the chief priests and scribes and Pharisees.  They watched Him raise up the downcast, forgive the penitent, and preach about the Kingdom of God with authority never before seen, not even in the days of Abraham and Moses. 

They watched Him cheered as King, riding into the Holy City to inaugurate the Kingdom so long awaited by the people.  It was actually happening!

And then they watched Him arrested on false charges.  They watched Him caged like an animal and chained like a slave.  They watched Him being beaten and tortured like an enemy of the state, and condemned to death like a terrorist.  It seemed as if His powers had left Him.  It had all unraveled so quickly.  He was betrayed by one of his disciples.  The rest of them fled.  The one appointed for leadership denied even knowing Him.  His followers were nowhere to be seen.  And His poor mother, living this nightmare in real time!  Then they all watched Him die, nailed to a Roman cross, His body bloodied and misshapen, a monstrous sight as He heaved in agony for each breath.  They could do nothing.  He was finally pierced by a soldier’s spear as blood and cardiac fluid gushed from His side.  His lifeless body was hurried into a tomb so that the people could enjoy the feast of Passover, celebrating lustily with festal roast lamb, with bread and wine and fellowship around a table.  They watched life go on for the evil, while their Lord’s corpse lay in infamy and shame, without even a proper burial.

Not knowing why or how all of this happened, perhaps questioning the reality of the events of the past three years, the women nevertheless did their feminine duty, motivated by love and custom to provide the last dignity to their Master’s body – bringing “spices, so that they might anoint Him.”  Of course, He needed no anointing, as the title “Christ” means Anointed One.  Jesus is already ahead of them, having already risen and begun the First Day of a new and greater week, a new era, the inauguration of eternity.  Even as they are walking and weeping, He is working. 

The stone had already been rolled back, and the tomb has already been transformed from being a sad sepulcher of decay and death into being the epicenter of the good news of life and vibrancy.  At this moment, this is the center of the universe.  The women saw the curious sight of a tomb without a dead body, but with a living creature who appears to be a “young man… dressed in a white robe.”

His job is to be part comforter and part news reporter.  He encourages them not to be alarmed (easy for him to say…).  And then He reports the news, just the facts: “You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.  He has risen; He is not here.”  And to drive the point home, our angelic reporter invites them to examine the tomb for themselves: “See the place where they laid Him.”

And now, our councilor and journalist also becomes a dispatcher.  For there is no time to waste.  The world must hear of this greatest news of all.  “Go” he tells them.  “Go, tell His disciples and Peter that He is going before you to Galilee.  There you will see Him, just as He told you.”

Our angelic friend cannot help himself but to seemingly inject a little bit of “He told you so” at the very end. 

Mary, Mary, and Salome went from mourning, to puzzling, to being tasked with the most important job in the history of the universe in a matter of minutes.  There will indeed be time for rejoicing, but not yet.  They are still playing catch up.  Their heads are still spinning.  They are still trying to make sense of what is happening.  But how natural and how honest is St. Mark’s Gospel in describing the women as being afraid.

Through their fear, they will faithfully carry this Good News to the men who will carry this same Good News to the ends of the earth.  The testimony of these women will be believed – even by you and me, even by people on every corner of the globe, even by people spanning two millennia.  Joy will replace their fear, as they will see the risen Lord Jesus Christ, even as they will see the spread of this good news of His death and resurrection – as the miracles of Jesus will continue wherever His Word is preached and wherever His sacraments are celebrated.

The fear of the women is not a bad reaction.  Indeed, as we ponder the First Commandment, we are reminded that “we should fear, love, and trust in God above all things.”  The Psalmist teaches us that the “fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”  And in their fear, they obey. They become “apostles to the apostles.”  The testimony of these Holy Women will be believed to this very day. 

The world has never been the same since that moment when our Lord rose again, nor since that moment when the first of our human race were told what had happened: one little word changed everything for our human race:  ἠγέρθη – which requires three words in English: “He has risen.”

“He has risen,” dear brothers and sisters!

He has risen, and death has been destroyed.  He has risen, and He continues to deliver His Word to us.  He has risen, and Satan’s counterfeit kingdom has been exposed and derailed.  He has risen, and we are justified by the forgiveness that He won for us at the cross.  He has risen, and so we have hope, and joy, and meaning in our lives.  He has risen, and there is a world in need of this greatest of all good news. 

He has risen, and so shall we!  Amen.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.