November 10, 2024 - Shirley Peterson's Memorial

All photos by Ron Houser

There didn't appear to be an empty chair in either the sanctuary or narthex at Creator on Sunday afternoon for the memorial - but there was. And the attendees were acutely aware of the one who was absent. 

Everyone's bereavement and grief was an undercurrent as everyone tried to make it a celebration of her life yet the sorrow was still, obviously present. Shirley had a unique place in our lives. We were all bearing the weight of this loss, each of us feeling the absence of a person we cherished deeply.

Shirley chose John 14:1-4 as a message of comfort for the Gospel reading. She knew in this sorrow, we find would ourselves searching for some comfort and assurance. Jesus, knowing the fears and doubts of His disciples, said, 'Do not let your hearts be troubled.' The verse speaks to us today with these same words, inviting us to find peace in His promises.

This was a celebration of a life well-lived. Shirley engaged with and enjoyed everyone around her. She loved travel and excursions. Her love, kindness, and memories remained vivid with all of us and were abundantly shared.

Attendees included family and friends. There were past and current Creator members, the Creator Youth and SE Youth Collective were represented. Many members of choirs, both Creator and Tillicum Community Choir attended and sang. Past musicians including Marilyn Keller, A.J. McQuarters, Luke Stromberg, past Creator lead musicians, Kelly Carlisle and David Lee, together with Kim Lee Annie and Amy Miles who sang a delicate rendition of Wailin' Jenny's One Voice during the prelude.

The music was, as expected, stunning. Highlights included Kelly Carlisle on piano backed Marilyn Keller who sang an ardent, inspiring tribute to God and God's generosity - Great Is Thy Faithfulness. 

Luke Stromberg sang the solo and was backed by choir (that included the Creator and Tillicum choirs) on Carlisle's Nunc Dimmitus. The devotional impact of these words was intense.

Lord, let your servant depart in peace,
Now your promise has been fulfilled,
For my eyes have seen your salvation,
Which you have prepared in the sight of all,
A light to lighten the gentiles,
And the glory of Israel.

According to John's gospel after Jesus raised Lazarus Jesus told the crowd to do something as community after Lazarus came out with these words, “Unwrap him and let him go!” The Nunc Dimmitus served as our unwrapping and letting Shirley go in peace and confidence. 

The memorial ended with Keller and the choir leading everyone in an energetic, while also a prayerful Sending Song, May the Circle be Unbroken.

Shirley was a compatriot that stood side by side with many of us for so many years. She leaves her footprints on my heart and the memorial served as testament that there remains for each of us an empty chair in our lives now.

November 10, 2024 - Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost - A Widow's Generosity or, perhaps, Rebuke

What is a moral of today's Gospel lesson (traditionally known as the story of “the widow’s mite")? Is there only one? Should a person simply act more like the poor widow? Give cheerfully, maybe even beyond their means, to the church for a time? Is that a primary demonstration of true devotion to God?

This passage is nearly always read in conjunction with the church's stewardship season each year. And this verse is nearly always interpreted in the exact same way — that God blesses those with little who give generously and isn’t pleased by rich cheapskates.

There is another way to support people who have little to share that Pastor Emillie highlighted in her sermon. Originally from the Democratic Republic of Congo, she fled with her family to Uganda for safety before moving to the United States in 2017 through a sponsorship by Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services. 

Pastor told a story in her sermon about her mother Velarie. Before they moved to the U.S. Emillie's mother served as a central figure in their community to invite folks would get together and contribute food to meals that would be shared. Pastor Emillie contrasted this with some church ministries and pastors she had encountered in her past who enriched themselves and ignored their own church workers needs. 

So, back to what can be drawn from Jesus' observations about scribes and the widow? Centering on the value of sacrificial giving over the amount given, emphasizing that the heart and intention behind the act are more significant than the quantity. The widow's gift, though small in material terms, was immense in spiritual worth because it represented her complete trust in God and her willingness to give, even at personal cost. This story appears to encourage humility, generosity, and the prioritization of sincere faith over outward displays of wealth or status.

This week a question arose for me: What if the widow didn't give out of this sense of generosity? This week, as Trump was re-elected, I heard echoes of a coarse, derisive laughter of many who function in today's world as the scribes did in this Gospel's world. There are people, many Christians, who might not admit it publicly but would, in their hearts, think the widow a sucker and a loser. 

Our Gospel actually has two parts. The entire selection says two things about widows. The first is about widows in general; the second is about this specific widow. In the first half of the text, Jesus condemned the elite for their ostentatious display of wealth, demands for respect, rights of privilege be recognized, and the insistence that their social status be publicly rewarded. In his litany of complaints against them, Jesus specifically pointed out one of the scribes’ unjust business practices: “They devour widows’ houses.”

In other words, the scribes cheated widows out of their property. The scribes in biblical times were often supported, at least indirectly, by the temple treasury, which also received offerings like those given by the widow in the story of the widow’s mite.

The scribes, who were scholars, teachers, and interpreters of the law, held respected positions in Jewish society and were closely associated with the temple and religious life. Some scribes, particularly those who also served as priests or high-ranking religious officials, would have received provisions or support from the temple offerings. So there is a question. Should she support a treasury that serves as a bank for those who had robbed her?

This suggests a possible moral contrast. While the widow gave out of her poverty to support the temple system, some religious leaders used to exploit their position at the expense of the vulnerable, like widows. Jesus’ teaching highlights not only the widow’s sacrificial giving but serves as a rebuke of those who misuse their authority for self-gain, reminding the audience of the ethical responsibilities of religious leaders. Yet, when read today, the rebuke is rarely emphasized.

It certainly isn’t hard to imagine that, in a society where women had no legal power, corrupt lawyers, estate managers, and bankers would enrich themselves by “devouring” the houses of widows. And the widows would have no recourse against any misdoings. Women both depended on them and were at their mercy.

Jesus’ comment seems to indicate that financial malpractice against widows was a regular practice of the scribes whom he denounced.

Jesus criticized the wealthy and praised her. This is in line with much of Jesus' teaching. This may have been a Matthew 5:39 verse moment for the widow, "But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also."

Who was the widow? What was her story? It is not given as is true with so many stories of women in the Bible. We don’t know anything except her husband was dead and she was of no means. Why was she so poor? Was this particular widow a victim of elite corruption? Had her house been devoured by one of the rich lawyers in that crowd?

Maybe, just maybe, she came to the treasury in protest. There, at the very least, she knew she’d get the attention of the pillars of society. After all, this was the sacred space where women could publicly plead and pray = the physical place where she would be nearest to the Holy, the One who is the Giver of Justice.

Maybe she is making a point. "Rich people have taken everything else from me — in your finery, with all your privilege and power. I’ve got nothing left. Take this. Choke on this, you thieves. Lord, have mercy! Defend my cause!"

And then, instead of letting her corrupt lawyers and greedy bankers take her very last penny, she threw her final mite - the little that remained -  into the Temple treasury where they shouldn't have felt comfortable touching it. She gave her last to God instead of them.

She had nothing to live on anyway since everything had been stolen. She may have been shaming her oppressors and throwing herself on God. And, while they made a show of their wealth, she made a show of their injustice.

Pastor Emillie posited in her sermon that the widow gave as she was called to do by her God. We can emulate her behavior and, at the same time, maintain respect for those who are being taken advantage of. Ultimately, we cannot know if she gave out of her generosity, as a rebuke, or both. 

And maybe we don't need to know. Thank Jesus for today's observations.

November 3, 2024 - All Saints Sunday and Creator's Día de los Muertos Celebration

Readings and Psalm
Wisdom 3:1-9; Psalm 24; Mark 12:28-34 

All Saints Sunday and the Gospel reading for Creator was John's account of Lazarus being raised. 

Pastor Emilie captured the ambivalent feelings and emotions among certain members of the audience in her sermon. I believe I was particularly sensitive to that ambivalence having recently experienced a death in my family and with two close friends.

The power of grief particularly hit me as the Gospel was being read this Sunday. “Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”

Martha believes in Jesus and that her brother will be resurrected but the power of losing Lazarus still makes her accusation that Lazarus could have been saved and that Jesus was not there when her brother died. 

The tears still sting our eyes and our hearts can feel not enough was done at a particular life moment to prevent the loss when those we love die. And even Jesus weeps before raising Lazarus and he knows Lazarus will be raised from the dead that day. Still, our tears and our hearts do not belie our belief that God overcomes death. Our expressed emotions are part of our being human.

After our All Saints service the congregation went to the Fellowship Hall and learn more about Día de los Muertos from our friends who honor the day.    

The Día de los Muertos celebrations officially finished on November 2 but Creator's celebration took place after our All Saints service. Its combination of the Indigenous cult of death and ritual rites with Catholicism brought it over from Europe. The custom of inviting departed loved ones home for a day is a way to honor their lives and accept what will happen after death.

For those who celebrate the Day of the Dead food, flowers and altars are components of the celebration. To honor the deceased, foods such as sugar skulls, sweetbread rolls and beverages are arranged on ofrendas, or house altars, along with clay ornaments and sentimental objects. Either at the cemetery itself or at a table at home, family members think their loved ones will feast on the “essence” of their offered treats.  

At Creator's Day of the Dead, Magally Saldivar Montoya did most of the speaking, Leticia Hermoza who the other Madres (who hosted this), respectfully call Doña Leti shared a bit of the traditions in Spanish. Erika Ramirez helped set it all up and cook. Elizabeth Roman Arrietta did most of the set up on Saturday of the backdrops is Peruvian, loves decorating, and learning about Mexican traditions)

 

October 27, 2024 - Reformation Sunday - Creator's Confirmation Photos

 Here are photos by Ron Houser of Creator's 2024 confirmands, now members:

October 6, 2024 - St. Francis of Assisi Day - Yoked to Christ And Community

Scripture Reading: Matthew 11:28-30 "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

Approaching the profound nature of Christian faith through the lens of paradox, anxiety, and personal responsibility is hard and that is what Pastor Emillie preached about today.

She started her sermon reminding us a physical yoke is not light. There is a paradox in Jesus' invitation to us

The words of Jesus ring out to us today, inviting us into a rest that transcends the weariness of this world. “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Sitting with this passage, the gentle call of Christ reaches out to us across the ages. But what does this rest truly mean? How can we understand it in the midst of the turmoil, anxiety, and weight that often define our lives?

These are the question Pastor Emillie's sermon reflected on during the service. Jesus’ words do not call us into a state of mere physical rest or relaxation, but rather into a deeper, paradoxical rest—a rest found in surrendering the burdens we carry within our souls.This is not a relation where we just turn off the world and retreat to what gives us pleasure without a concern for the world around us.

Soren Kierkegaard, in his writings, saw in this not just the external burdens of life, such as work or physical exhaustion, but the internal struggles that come with being human. To live is to be burdened with the weight of existence itself: anxiety, doubt, fear, and the overwhelming sense of being alone in a vast, confusing world.

Kierkegaard speaks of this as the "sickness unto death," an inner despair that arises when we lose sight of our relationship with God, or worse, when we seek rest in anything other than God. Our efforts to control our lives, to overcome suffering by our own strength, only lead us deeper into despair. We become like those who labor under a burden too heavy to bear.

Pastor Emillie identified we seek validation, success, and security, yet these things can never provide the lasting rest our souls yearn for. As we try to be superwomen or men, showing everyone we have our lives together and under control we begin to feel weary and unfulfilled.

When Jesus calls, “Come to me,” He invites us into something radically different. Kierkegaard famously described faith as a leap, a movement beyond reason and calculation, into the arms of God. It is not a call to find rest through our own efforts but to embrace a relationship with Christ in which we give up the illusion of control.

But this is no easy task. To come to Christ, we must relinquish the burdens of self-sufficiency. We must surrender the pride that says, "I can handle this on my own." This surrender is not a one-time event but a continual act of trust where we daily resign our deepest desires, our most cherished hopes, into the hands of God, trusting that His plan is greater than our own.

Pastor Emillie gave the congregation a reassuring thought. This is the first time you are encountering the circumstances of your life. She has never been thirty before she became thirty. She cannot be expected to know exactly how to do it. A mother cannot know what it is like to be a mother for the first time, any more than a mother of two knows how to be a mother of two rather than a mother of one. 

In this sense, Christ's call to “come” is an invitation into a paradox. To lay down our burdens, we must first acknowledge them. To find rest, we must first feel the full weight of our weariness. When we can recognize our own inadequacy, we are prepared to encounter God’s grace

But what of the rest that Christ offers? Jesus says, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Here, true rest is not found in the absence of all burdens but in bearing the right burden, the yoke of Christ shared by community.

What is this yoke? It is the yoke of faith, the surrender to God’s will, and the willingness to trust in God's love and guidance. While this might seem like another form of labor, it is a labor grounded in grace. Christ’s yoke is “easy” not because it involves no effort, but because it is borne with the strength of God’s Spirit and the community. It is a yoke that unites us to Christ, who walks alongside us, sharing in our trials and lifting our burdens in ways we cannot always understand.

This is the mystery of Christian faith: that in yielding to God’s will, in taking on the burden of faith, we find a peace that surpasses all understanding. The rest Christ offers is a rest for the soul, a peace that comes from knowing we are held in the hands of a loving God, even in the midst of our struggles.

The greatest task of all that we face is to live as individuals in relation to God, to come to Christ not once, but continually, communally through every moment of doubt, fear, and joy. This is where the true rest lies—not in avoidance or distraction, but in the transformative power of faith.

At the end of her sermon, as she held up St. Francis as an example of someone yoked to Christ, Pastor Emillie allowed, a five minute contemplation to focus on those areas of our lives where we truly need rest. She asked us to practice ways of true, profound rest and to be rest assured that we are not alone when we face troubles in our lives.

September 29, 2024 - Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost - Coincidence or Providence?

 

Pastor Emillie started her sermon by saying Esther is her favorite book in the Bible. She also pointed out a main point as she summarized the story. God is never in Esther. 

And how often do we chalk up the events in our lives to coincidence without thinking that God may be working in ways we cannot apprehend? Esther didn’t see herself as someone chosen by God. She didn’t hear a voice from a burning bush like Moses or witness the parting of the Red Sea. Yet, through a series of seemingly random events, she became an instrument of God’s deliverance.

When we look at our own lives, are we recognizing the "coincidences" as part of a larger, divine plan? The people we meet, the jobs we find ourselves in, the trials and blessings we encounter—could these all be moments where God is orchestrating something much larger than we can see?

Also, beyond all the holy people whose stories we know from the Bible, can God work with people who are deeply flawed like us? How can we and how do we respond when we are put in positions of authority over others, particularly those we don't like. When God gives us wealth or abilities we should not fall to the temptation of acting out of revenge. We must see our wealth and our abilities as our responsibility to advance God's kingdom, serve people down to the least deserving, and fight injustice.  

Queen Esther violated many Jewish laws and traditions, yet she risked her comfort for the sake of her people. Are we willing to do the same? In a world that often tells us to seek comfort and security, the gospel calls us to risk much for the sake of love. Whether that means giving generously, speaking out against injustice, or using our influence to protect the vulnerable, the story of Esther’s show us an example of what we are sometimes called to do.

These verses also call us to remember that, in God's economy, wealth is measured differently. This is one reason Jesus emphasizes how the right response that might fly against our better instincts of what is best for us. We may feel hurt in this world by making the right choice but the result is what God wants in bringing about God's kindom,

September 22, 2024 - Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost - Jesus' Blessing of Children and Rooted In His Message of Serving Others

The Gospel lesson today reflects a simple, profound moment in the life of Jesus—a moment where Jesus uses the innocence and humility of a child to reveal the very heart of God. In this passage from Mark, we see him taking a small child, holding them tenderly, and speaking powerful words: “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

What is Jesus teaching us through this?

Thinking about this throughout the week I thought about the setting of this passage. The disciples argued amongst themselves about who was the greatest, who held the most status in the Kingdom of God. Jesus, knowing their hearts, turns their attention to a child—a figure in society who, at that time, had no social standing, no power, no influence.

Children in Jesus' day were among the most vulnerable and insignificant members of society. But Jesus sees them not as insignificant, but as models for greatness. By taking the child into His arms, He shows that the Kingdom of God values humility over power, purity over prestige, and dependence over self-sufficiency.

When Jesus asks us to welcome the child, He calls us to embrace humility, to value those who are often overlooked or dismissed. He is reminding us that true greatness in God’s eyes is not about status or power, but about being open-hearted and loving to the least among us.

Jesus’ act of placing the child in the center of the disciples and telling them to welcome the child is more than just a lesson in humility—it is also a command to welcome the vulnerable. Pastor Emillie asked in our world, who are the "children" today that Jesus is asking us to welcome?

Perhaps it is the marginalized, the outcast, the lonely, the poor, the refugee. Jesus calls us to see the image of God in those whom society often overlooks. When we care for the weak, when we show kindness and love to those who can offer us nothing in return, we are welcoming Jesus Himself.

In Matthew 25, Jesus says that when we care for the hungry, the sick, the imprisoned, we are acting as Christ's body. In Mark, we are given a similar message: when we welcome a child, we welcome Jesus. This is a radical teaching, one that shifts the focus of our faith away from ourselves and toward those in need. It is an invitation to see Christ in the vulnerable and the powerless.

What Pastor Emillie also suggested was the disciples may have been uncomfortable with Jesus' teaching at this time. We should probably know better now, but we still don't. Instead of asking questions about how we should live out such teaching, we often retreat into talking about which church or faith is better than another. 

 

Perhaps the disciples were looking for their "best" spokesperson to confront Jesus and get a deeper understanding of what he was saying, by asking Jesus the "right" questions. I can certainly see how I have fallen prey to this sort of thinking. And Jesus, as a rabbi and friend, by this example of a child, shifted their focus from who might be their best representative, to center instead on Jesus and taking his words to heart.

 

Dave Brauer-Rieke attended worship today and shared his reaction in a Facebook post.

 

So let us welcome the child within us as well, the vulnerable, the humble—both literally and spiritually. Let us be people who see the face of Christ in those who are often overlooked, and let us live with the trust and faith of a child, fully dependent on the love of our Heavenly Father.

May we, in our humility, not only welcome others in Christ’s name but also experience the divine presence that comes when we open our hearts to the least among us. And in doing so, may we be drawn closer to the heart of God.