Dec 21, 2024 | Pastor Jim's Blog
Today’s Word from Pastor Jim….
“My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.” Psalm 130:6
In Biblical times people lived in walled villages, military camps were enclosed with various defensive barricades. The safety of those inside the walls was entrusted to those who were charged to watch, to watch for danger through the night, to give the darkness their full attention until the sun crested the horizon and put to bed the fears of the night.
Most of us have never been called upon to stand guard through the darkest hours of the night, maintaining a heightened awareness of our surroundings, sensing any movement among moonlit shadows, listening for the slightest out of place sounds. The night was a fearful place in the ancient world where illumination was in short supply and surprise attacks from enemies or animals were real threats. The solitude of the watch, the endless hours of tedium allowed time for vivid imaginations to spin yarns of mythical creatures who lurked in the darkness. The fear was real, though the actual threat on most nights was non-existent. Those on watch yearned for the first signs of morning, for the end of their shift and for the promise of a new day.
On occasion, we find affinity with ancient watchmen as we too yearn for the first signs of morning. Sleep does not come easy, the long-suffering hours of night become a prison cell of darkness, filled with the demons of our greatest fears. Our sentence plays out in agonizing fashion as each hour of the night slowly passes. Mythical worries and real-life problems dominate our troubled spirits, typically the threat of our ruminations is greatly exaggerated. We toss and turn, unable to find comfort in mind or body. We curse the darkness, anxiously waiting, unable to hasten the promised return of the sun. My soul waits for the Lord, more than watchmen for the morning.
It arrived as most blessings do, without our planning or participation. Most of us did not stay up into the wee hours of the morning to mark the promised return of the sun in real time. As we slept the seasons simply turned. Fall gave way to winter, the sun headed north and began its yearly journey, a journey that will culminate in long summer days and breathtaking Northwest sunsets. At 1:19 a.m. this morning darkness began to retreat. 2000 years ago, a star appeared in the sky above Bethlehem. We know now that the light of that star had been traveling through the cosmos for thousands if not millions of years. The birth of our Savior, not unlike our birth, came about without our planning or participation. Most of the blessings of our lives come to us as pure gifts.
I detest the darkness of winter; I don’t do darkness or silence very well. Death could be hard on me. Today, I will celebrate that at 1:19 a.m. I was reminded again that morning always comes, darkness cannot overcome light, and my entire life is lived in response to the grace that God has showered upon me.
Christmas is just around the corner my friends, follow the light to TLC on Christmas Eve and we will worship under the stars.
One beggar, telling another beggar where to find bread, I am your,
Pastor Jim
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Dec 14, 2024 | Pastor Jim's Blog
Today’s Word from Pastor Jim…
It was 7:52 am on Sunday, December 8th. The sanctuary was filling for the 8 o’clock service. I had run to my office to grab a scripture reference for a waiting parishioner, paper in hand, one step back toward the door when my phone pinged. I don’t keep my phone with me on Sunday morning, it resides in its assigned seat plugged in to a charger next to my desk. The waiting text stirred my heart; “Just to let you know that John died last night. He took a rapid downhill turn and never recovered.” 36 hours earlier I had been talking to John. His last words to me were, “I love you brother.”
Though we shared no blood, John was like a distant brother to me. 35 years ago, when my family arrived on Whidbey Island his mother took us under her wing and under her roof for a period of time. She became my “island mom.” That adoption added four siblings to my family. I would see John often through the years; birthday celebrations, funerals, fourth of July parties and family gatherings. Every interaction was positive, heartfelt, playful, joyful. We always greeted each other with a bear hug, and we said our goodbyes in a similar fashion. He called me “his island brother.”
My heart raced, the candles needed to be lit, there were hands to be touched. “Be upbeat, thank them for coming, this is the day that the Lord has made.” Scripture was read, hymns of faith washed over me, Pastor Chris preached about hope. My body was present, all went according to plan, but John was on my mind. When the service ended, I returned to my office to a missed phone call. The missed call was from my wife. Felicia rarely calls me on Sunday morning, so I knew something was up.
Her voice cracked; in Boston her Uncle Mike had taken a turn for the worse. Uncle Mike has been a constant in Felicia’s life, loving and influential, a father figure, a role model, a mentor, the North Star of her life. He was a calm, wise and faithful presence in our lives. Dr. Michael Freed spent his professional career as a Pediatric Cardiologist at Boston Children’s Hospital while also teaching at Harvard Medical School. Suddenly his life was hanging in the balance, resting peacefully somewhere between the world and the next. My heart ached for the love of my life whose heart was broken with grief. 3000 miles separated them, should she fly today or wait it out?
It was 10:24 am on Sunday, December 8th. The sanctuary was filling for the 10:30 service. The candles needed to be lit, there were hands to hold, ushers to thank, smarties to give the children, the prelude was nearly over. “Be upbeat, thank them for coming, this is the day that the Lord has made.” Everything went as planned, my body was present, yet my mind was far from TLC. The warmth of the community gave me comfort, hymns of faith washed over me.
It occurred to me in that moment that behind me were two hundred people with 200 distracted broken hearts, praying for prodigal children, grieving death, lonely today, afraid of tomorrow. They were right there over my shoulder, they had no idea what was going on in my life, and I had no idea what was going on in theirs. We were just there together, frail humans sharing an hour, positioned in the pathway of Jesus, beggars looking for a word of grace or a glimmer of hope.
It was 11:35 am on Sunday, December 8th. The people were eating cinnamon rolls and sharing stories, smiling faces hiding broken hearts and deep-seated insecurities. I was anxious to get home, to be close to Felicia, that we might together face a certain, uncertain future. Tomorrow at 8:00 and 10:30 they will return. The candles will need to be lit. On December 15th our lives will once again merge for an hour, there will be bread and wine, hugs and handshakes, smiles and tears, the people of God in the pathway of Jesus. One day further from our birth, one day closer to our death, but together sharing the commonalities of our humanity.
Everyone is carrying burdens. What lies behind the smiles and the outward appearance of another’s life is mostly hidden from us. So be kind, be patient, be slow to judge and hold on. Hold on knowing that the seasons will turn as they always do, the darkness will not overcome the light, the tears will dry, hope will be rekindled, and grieving will give way to dancing again.
Thanks Brother John, thanks Uncle Mike; it was a profound privilege to share the journey with you both.
One beggar, telling another beggar where to find bread, I am your,
Pastor Jim
PS: Dr. Michael Freed died on December 11, 2024
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Dec 7, 2024 | Pastor Jim's Blog
Today’s Word from Pastor Jim
I called customer service and received an automated response. It seemed that all the customer service agents were helping other clients. After being told how important my business was to their company, the automated voice told me that the average wait time would be approximately 11 minutes. What’s 11 minutes out of my life? Besides, if I called back later or tomorrow the hold time could be longer. I kept my place in line. I paced patiently in this earthy purgatory for the next 32 minutes. Fortunately, the customer service agent who ultimately helped me was outstanding.
Waiting and preparing: the themes of Advent.
Did you know that the average American in their lifetime will be on hold for……..wait for it…….. 43 days. The waiting does not end there. 43 days on hold, 38 hours every year waiting in traffic, countless weeks waiting for medical appointments, test results, or surgeries. I could find no statistics on ferry line waits but suffice it to say that waiting for ferries is part of the rhythm of island life.
Sometimes we just have to wait. Acknowledging our lack of control and claiming our inability to speed up time, there is little to do but to wait. The Jewish people had waited for the coming of the promised Messiah. Mary waited for the first signs of labor while Joseph waited to hand out cigars, pink and blue bands just to be safe. Cub fans had to wait 108 years for a World Series Championship. Mariner fans are still waiting.
We detest waiting so much that we have devised vehicles to disguise the agony. The Advent Wreath marks our approach to Christmas. The waiting is not diminished, but each week the light of an additional candle offers us hope; hope that our waiting will give way to the promised arrival of the Christmas Child. When all four candles are lit, we know that the dawn of Christmas is near, and we will be rewarded for our waiting. The Advent Calendar serves the same function as each day a new lesson or treat is revealed. Slowly but surely, we move one day closer to the celebration of Christmas, marking progress as we go.
Waiting and preparing: the themes of Advent
Truth be told, most of us would rather prepare than wait. So, we distract ourselves with endless preparations for Christmas. We decorate and bake, send cards and buy presents. We shop on Black Friday, cyber-Monday and nearly every day is marketed as “the biggest sale of the year.” We trim the tree, we go Christmas caroling, we cry one more time while watching “It’s a Wonderful Life” and we try to figure out once again what is going on in the Nutcracker. We plan special meals, host parties, and make travel plans. More than distracting, “the most wonderful time of the year” is exhausting.
Though I detest waiting, I do love Advent. Time honored traditions summon dormant memories from the past and the promised birth of a child ushers in a new year and a new season of hope. May God give us renewed hope this year. May God bless us in our waiting and may there be quiet grace-filled moments that kindle our faith as we trust in mysteries beyond our understanding.
Speaking of mysteries; what is with the Mouse King and how does Clara become the Sugar Plum Fairy?
One beggar, telling another beggar where to find bread, I am your,
Pastor Jim
If you would like to email Pastor Jim direct please send a note to: [email protected]
Nov 30, 2024 | Pastor Jim's Blog
Today’s Word from Pastor Jim…
Your TLC Staff wishes you all a festive, reflective, memorable Thanksgiving 2024. We are thankful for you and for the many ways that you generously support your Church, the Church where everybody’s welcome.
The first permanent European settlement in the new world was at Jamestown. The English settlers, all men, arrived and established the colony in 1607. Some 13 years later the Pilgrims arrived in Cape Cod. On December 18, 1620 they would dock at Plymouth Rock.
What was the most striking similarity between the settlers in Jamestown and the Pilgrims in Plymouth? Human suffering and hope. In Jamestown more than half of the settlers died of famine or disease. In fact, after eight months in the New World there were only 38 of the original 104 still alive. In 1608 a ship would arrive in Jamestown with 90 single women. This was an effort to ensure the permanent settlement of the colony.
Up the coast in Plymouth, only 44 of the 102 Pilgrims who landed at Plymouth Rock in 1620 would survive to that fall of 1621. Only five women were left when the Pilgrims paused for a three-day holiday to give thanks. Imagine if 60% of us died in the next year, would we, could we, pause to give thanks?
The historian H.U. Westermayer writes:
“The Pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts. No Americans have been more impoverished than those, who nonetheless set aside a day of Thanksgiving.”
Thanksgiving is a verb, like jogging, walking or swimming. It is something that we do; we give thanks. We pause and look around, and with eyes wide open we realize just how blessed we are. To give thanks is to acknowledge our dependence upon God and each other. We give thanks for gifts that have come to us by the grace of God and the labor of others.
A life marked by thankfulness is a beautiful thing. People who are thankful are just the type of people that we want to spend time with. The best things in life are free, and we are surrounded each day by abundant blessings.
Irving Berlin, the Jewish Immigrant who grew up in poverty in New York City, had it right, “Got no check books, got no banks. Still, I’d like to express my thanks, I’ve got the sun in the morning and the moon at night.”
So, what are you thankful for in 2024? I am thankful for you.
Blessed to be a Blessing!
Pastor Jim
If you would like to email Pastor Jim direct please send a note to: [email protected]
Nov 23, 2024 | Pastor Jim's Blog
Today’s Word from Pastor Jim…
The Christmas lights are going up at Trinity Lutheran Church. The steeple is lit up year-round, a beacon of hope shining high above Highway 525. In December each year, the white lights of the steeple are joined by the colors of Christmas. For many years the Christmas lights were under the supervision of Bill Cochran.
When Bill took on a job, he did it right, and he did it in a big way. Each year Bill would recruit a volunteer or two to assist him. The lights, boxes and boxes of them, were stored at his house. Rain, shine or snow Bill was up a ladder and soon on the roof. Our community building on the highway was first as lights of blue, green and red announced the coming of the season. Then Bill would move his ladder to the taller and more challenging roof lines of our offices and finally he would ascend the steep slopes that lead to the cross. With the dawning of a new year Bill would ascend the heights again, pack up the lights, repair those that were broken and then it was time to rest. Well, that is not true. Rest was not really in his nature, he simply moved on with considerable energy to the next good deed at Church or at Useless Bay or in his community.
Through the years, on more than one occasion the Church Council gave me a clear directive; “Tell Bill Cochran that he cannot be on the roof. No man in his 80’s should be on the roof.” My response, “You really think that I can tell Bill Cochran what to do?” I mentioned it to Bill, and he said with a smile that he would sue me for age discrimination. 2022 marked Bill’s final light campaign. That year 8 men showed up to work under the watchful eyes of General Cochran. When the new year came the same group returned, packed up the lights and returned them home to Bill’s garage.
Last year donations were given to hire professionals to install and remove the lights. I feel a great sense of relief. Sending old men up ladders makes me nervous. But when I come to work in the dark wee hours of winter and see the sky lit up in the colors of the season, I pause and give thanks. I give thanks for the privilege of sharing the journey with Bill Cochran. Bill was one of a kind and his footprints are everywhere in our community.
One thankful beggar, telling another beggar where to find bread, I am your,
Pastor Jim
If you would like to email Pastor Jim direct please send a note to: [email protected]
Nov 15, 2024 | Pastor Jim's Blog
Today’s Word from Sandra Moore…
I was fortunate to make a trip to Italy with a TLC group a few years ago. The day before we reached Rome, we stopped at one of the medieval hilltop towns called San Gimignano. Tuscany is breathtakingly beautiful. The walled town with its tall towers made breathtakingly beautiful go up a notch. It was a small place, very easy to walk from end to end in one day. Jim led us to the far end of San Gimignano to a small stone church, high above the winding valleys and green rolling hills. The priest allowed us to have a private service within as pilgrims on our way to Rome. It was a small and humble church. The priest told us that during the dreadful plague years hundreds of years ago that this church was used as a hospital. I had no trouble imagining those suffering taking refuge there in a time of great uncertainty.
During the recent TLC course led by Deacon Amy, we read the book By Heart: Conversations with Martin Luther’s Small Catechism. In the last paragraph in the introductory chapter we read the following sentence: “And most importantly, how can we stay true to Luther’s witness to the gospel and his vision to embed the Christian catechism into all hearts and minds, so that, in the hospital we call the church, people may discover the sickness of sin, hear the good news about God’s medicine of grace, and call on God for help in all of our need?” The church we visited in San Gimignano came to my mind and stayed there. I had never before heard the church called a hospital and it intrigued me. I had to look up the etymology of the word. Google told me it came from the Latin word hospitale, which means “lodging for travelers.” Anglo-French borrowed the word to first mean a charitable institution for the needy and later a place for educating young people. It was first used as an institution for the sick or wounded in the 16th century. Our word hospital is related to words like hostel, hotel, host, hospitality, and hospice.
Would thinking about the church as a hospital, our sanctuary for example, bring us closer to God? Maybe not if someone has had a bad experience in a hospital or if one fears hospitals. While I would not personally choose to work in a hospital, when I hear the word I think of a quiet, good place with patients mostly trying to be considerate of all the other patients who are waiting to hear good or bad news from the experts. I think of all the personnel in a hospital who treat patients with gentle kindness day after day. What if we came to church each Sunday as if we were entering a hospital? How would that change the way we interact with each other in the pews before, during, and after the service? TLC’s hallmark is hospitality. Are we attentive, empathetic, and responsive to those sitting around us? Do we behave at church as we would behave in a hospital or hospice with a loved one? How do we support and nurture our caregivers at church?
We live in troubled times. We come to church each Sunday with wounds, scars, and debilitating pain—both physical and spiritual—that are masked by our smiles. We come seeking comfort and hope, the same way people come to hospitals. We, fellow patients and hospital staff, offer kindness to each other in the spirit of hospitality. We are the hospice care givers to each other.
Every hospital has a prayer chapel. You might remember spending time in one or more of them. They are peaceful places of rest in times when we feel most uncertain and vulnerable. There is a synagogue in the Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem. There are twelve stained glass windows, representing the twelve tribes of Israel, designed by Marc Chagall. On a sunny day the bright colors are reflected down into the prayer room. In our sanctuary there is a square tower leading up to the cross on the roof outside. We have stained glass windows on either side. In a similar way, there is a box shaped tower in the synagogue of the Hadassah Hospital with three tribes on each of the four sides.
Hospitals offer our physical bodies hope, answers, no answers, mending; they are places of respite or urgent care in the journey of life in all of its stages. Church offers us the same but for our souls. Together, in our church community, let us be both givers and receivers of hope each Sunday in our hospital sanctuary.
