November 23, 2025: Jeremiah 29:1, 4–14 When Uprooted; Build Houses, Plant Gardens

“There are no unsacred places; there are only sacred and desecrated places.” 
 Wendell Berry

July 21, 2024 - On this morning of rain mingling with sunlight, there was a gathering that felt a spirit of hope, renewal, and holy purpose. Members of Creator and partners from the Farmland Distribution Project stood together, soil beneath our feet, and sky above our heads, to dedicate a garden. What had long been anticipated became, in this moment, a sacred act.

Jeremiah wrote to a people living far from home, reminding them of God’s enduring presence and calling: 

Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce… Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. (Jeremiah 29:5, 7).

In these words, God invites a displaced community not merely to endure but to root themselves, to plant life, to cultivate hope. And in the verses that follow, God assures them:

I know the plans I have for you… plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. (Jeremiah 29:11).

On Sunday, as we reflected on the importance of planting and the distribution of the produce of this garden. We responded to that same ancient and living call that is captured in this week's scripture reading.

Just as God adorned creation with fruits, flowers, and countless mysteries of life, we consecrated this space to be both beautiful and bountiful. This garden reminds us that God’s love is not abstract but embodied, in soil and seed, in sun and rain, in the miracle of growth. As these first seeds took root, we trusted that community faith would also deepen, and that the harvests gathered here would nourish many. The produce has now been harvested and distributed. The Sunday before last, Creator held a Harvest Festival where participants feasted on what the garden had produced

We pray that this garden will continue to thrive under the watchful care of those who tend it and under the generous warmth of the sun. 

After Sunday's service, Pastor Emillie led another congregational discussion following up on our past Cottage meetings about Creator's ongoing mission. After acknowledging the collective wisdom of the congregation, she asked what we felt was the importance of this realized garden. The hospitality of those who receive the bounty of what is planted is important to its success.

For Creator, the garden (together with Creator's Land Story team) links us more closely to a story that goes beyond the history of who owned the land, and shifts the focus to how it is being used. With each collective decision we make, we contribute to the ongoing story. 

This Jeremiah reading adds deep wisdom and also eloquently answers her question. This garden has become a place of fellowship and learning, a space where we share and celebrate the rhythms of nature, recognizing the divine woven into every living thing.

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you" (Jeremiah 1:5) . Pastor Emillie said if she were to get a Bible verse tattoo, it would be either Jeremiah 1;5 or a portion of Jeremiah 29:11. Both have filled her with a sense of comfort and God's care for her as an individual.

Which brings me to another dimension of that year-old consecration. It marked a beginning, not an end. We started a journey infused with growth, bounty, beauty, and grace. In a profound and foundational way, we are becoming spiritually joined with Jeremiah’s exiled community in proclaiming and by demonstrating trust: that God is here and is at work among us.

Let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up.  

Galatians 6:9 

Hope for the world continues to abound.

October 5, 2025 - Trusting that God Provides Manna for All

 

Reading: Exodus 16:1-18 

Sermon 

The story of manna in the wilderness is not simply about food. Manna is the product of God's teaching a liberated people how to live differently. This weekend, as I write, this reading is a well-timed lesson for Portland, Oregon. The Oregon National Guard has been deployed. Who knows what will happen by the time this coming Sunday rolls around?

The Israelites, newly freed from Pharaoh, find themselves in the desert, hungry and afraid. Freedom is not as easy as they imagined. Their first instinct is to long for the past, even for the days of slavery, because at least then the bread and safety seemed certain.

Fear always makes what happened in the past look safer and more stable than it was. I understand how this is attractive. I want a past where I felt safer. I dread escalating clashes during the night more than I did before this weekend. And I certainly can understand and empathize with the frustration of those who live near ICE facilities, where noise remains a persistent issue. However, even they know that sending troops here will not solve the noise disturbances.

Dramatic threats of "providing troops authorized to use full force" that stoke national divisions will not finally stop future confrontations between ICE and ICE protesters.  The last time I am aware of a protester threatening ICE officers or the building was in June, and that was handled by local law enforcement. 

I truly believe that the government's best response to any challenge, like God's, is not answered by exerting unilateral, unwanted control, but rather offering the "bread" of cooperation, coordination, and continued conversation. Helping Manna rains down, not in excess, not as luxury, but as sufficiency. Each day’s gift is enough, no more and no less. God’s lesson is profound: liberation is not only escaping Pharaoh, but unlearning Pharaoh’s economy of hoarding, anxiety, and exploitation. God shapes the people toward an economy of enough for everyone. 

Creator is currently modeling this economy on a small scale with the thriving Farmland Produce Distribution Project garden on Creator’s property. We are also engaging with the diversity, support, and prayers we are currently sharing with our current neighbors, the Madres.

This vision of sufficiency and sharing contrasts sharply with the voices of fear and division in our own world. We hear leaders describe cities, like ours, as “war-ravaged” and “out of control,” invoking images of scarcity, danger, and chaos. Such rhetoric is not far from the Israelites’ cry: “If only we had died in Egypt, when we ate our fill of bread!” It is the language of fear, telling us that safety must lie in control, in force, in protecting what we imagine is ours from those we imagine are threats.

But the manna story refuses this narrative. God’s answer to fear is not domination but provision. God does not send battalions to patrol the wilderness; God sends bread that all can gather equally. The divine pattern is not “full force if necessary,” but shared sufficiency. In God’s economy, no one hoards at another’s expense, no one is left hungry, and rest itself is sacred.

In the manna story, sufficiency is not only about daily bread but also about sacred rest. On the seventh day, no manna fell, and no one needed to gather. God built Sabbath into the pattern of provision, reminding the people that freedom also means freedom from endless work and anxiety. Some say this has been years in the making. Overall, describing Portland as war-ravaged is simply an inaccurate mischaracterization to fit into some "insurrection" narrative. It does not currently apply to this city.  

In our time, any deployed troops are currently a radical and a temporary corrective. We are told repeatedly that resources are scarce, that enemies are everywhere, that we must cling tightly to what we have and defend it with force. Yet manna whispers a different truth: abundance comes when we trust God’s provision and live in solidarity. True security does not come from militarization or fear of our neighbors. A loving, long-lasting response comes from ensuring that every neighbor has bread in their hands.

The manna story, then, is not a nostalgic myth but a radical vision. God’s justice looks like daily bread shared freely, enough for each, with no one left out and no one left wanting. Against the voices that call for fear, division, and force, manna invites us into God’s alternative economy: sufficiency, equality, and rest.

I am listening to and trusting in this coming Sunday's scripture. 

The Old Testament Jeremiah Addresses Many of the Distorted Mirrors Reflected in Current U.S. Immigration Policies

But this is the new covenant I will make with the people of Israel after those days,” says the LORD. “I will put my instructions deep within them, and I will write them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people.

Jeremiah 31:33

Reading scripture is mysterious. I have read the entire book of Jeremiah at least three times when reading the Bible cover to cover. However, the prophet's words did not "write on my heart" until now. 

In Jeremiah 29, the prophet writes to the people of Judah who have been forcibly displaced to Babylon. It’s not just a message of survival. It’s a call to build, to plant, to pray, and hold fast to God’s promise even in a foreign land.

I have never been an exile or lived in a foreign land. Jeremiah didn't speak to me until I imagined myself in another's shoes. I thought of being an immigrant in this country. I read this book from that perspective, and it was written on my heart. It was like walking into a carnival fun-house with warped mirrors and shifting floors. Nothing looked quite right. My reflection stretched tall and twisted sideways.  The rules of reality suddenly bent, and the disorientation was dizzying. I then imagined living in this fun-house..

That’s what many immigrants, refugees, and displaced people in America must experience every day. A country that promises freedom and dignity becomes a hall of mirrors where words don’t match actions, where justice is distorted, and where belonging is promised but withheld. Today, many immigrants in the United States live in a similarly disorienting reality. It’s like a fun house.

Presently, American life is a mirror of contradiction and distortion: "You are welcome here" echoes in a national myth and immigration slogans, while ICE vans now prowl neighborhoods. "The American Dream is for all", except for the policies and prejudices that fence it off.  "We are a nation of laws", yet legal protections twist and disappear based on country of origin, skin tone, or political winds. This is the fun-house effect: What is seen is not what's real. Systems pretend to be fair while being fundamentally warped.

In Jeremiah’s letter to the exiles, a divine invitation not to despair is heard. Rather than assimilate blindly, the letter says, be rooted where you are, even if the ground is foreign and shifting.

"Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, for in its welfare you will find your welfare." (Jer. 29:5,7)

To read Jeremiah is to hear God's voice through the chaos. Telling today's undocumented immigrants and refugees, you do belong. Not because the system says so, but because God has not abandoned you. There is a tension between adapting to the land and holding onto a deeper identity. Jeremiah doesn’t tell the exiles to become Babylonians; he tells them to live faithfully in exile. To see the distortion and lies as the temporary empire tricks they are, and not the final word.

And crucially, Jeremiah promises:

"Surely I know the plans I have for you... plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope." (Jer. 29:11)

He doesn’t say run from the distortion, but root yourself in it.

That is not surrender. That is resistance. In this distorted world, immigrants and all who feel disoriented by injustice need this clear vision. Jeremiah offers prophetic glasses. He reminds us that God's truth cuts through the fog. God's future is not distorted. It is real, grounded, and just.

This week Creator's Office announced creating an "inter-generational moodboard". The suggested theme is: “Rooted & Renewed” A sacred space where generations grow together.  Yes, this is part of what our congregation is currently exploring.

To completely follow Jeremiah’s vision is to accept an invitation to action.

To tell the truth about distortion. We must name the ways our systems deceive, distract, and distort the image of God in our neighbors. 

To plant gardens anyway. The Farmland Distribution gardens are now rooted, growing, and producing at Creator. Amid injustice, we build communities. We raise families. We open churches. We organize. We worship. That is holy resistance. And, finally: 

To hold fast to God’s hope. The fun-house is not forever. Babylon is never the final word. God's justice is not a mirage. Instead, it is the real shape of the world being born.

Creator's Pentecost Potluck and This Year's Thanksgiving Litany

During the potluck celebration, Creator shared a Thanksgiving Litany. The words touched on Creator's continuing land story which was both interpreted and celebrated in light of the mortgage burning, land stewardship practices, and spoken, sacred memory.

This community's journey over the years was reflected in the litany. We began by honoring Indigenous stewards of the land. We then remembered that we founded a mission congregation. We built and maintained a sacred space through financial and spiritual investment. This has been a layered story of stewardship. Paying off the mortgage isn’t just about financial responsibility; it symbolizes trust in God’s abundance and a faithfulness to one another and to future generations.

The land is not just a resource but rather expresses a relationship. And when selling land was necessary through the years, it was not viewed as a mark of loss, but of wise and prayerful discernment. The congregation always balanced care for this physical place and Creator's ministry with responsiveness to changing circumstances. The question going forward now becomes: How does this legacy of care shape the way we steward our property and resources for the next season of Creator’s life?

Testimonies of past pastors praised Creator's legacy of bold, Spirit-led risks such as founding a church in a growing suburb, riding a scooter door-to-door, building a worship space with Mission Builders, becoming Reconciling in Christ, sponsoring a refugee family, grounding the community in deep scripture study, and now committing to a radical love of neighbor and world.

The land has held these risks with this congregation. It has witnessed their unfolding. Now, with the mortgage paid, we dream again. What new risks are there to take in the name of love, inclusion, and justice?

The litany honored Indigenous peoples and church founders, linking past spiritual legacies. That connection is profound. Creator's land story is not merely institutional history; it’s held as sacred memory. The footsteps of Indigenous caretakers, early church planters, and refugee families all echo together on this ground. We walk now in their shadow and their light. So the question is not how we have thought about it in the past, "What is next for our property?" but rather, "How do we deepen our relationship with this sacred place?"

The litany had a refrain, “May your vision continue on” which pointed to something powerful: our land story is not a closed book. It’s a living testimony. Paying off the mortgage is not simply finishing a chapter; we are opening a new one.

Creator Lutheran has become a place of healing for the land and a neighbor-loving tool with a new garden open and established to be worked and harvested for neighborhood food distribution.

The land acknowledgment in today's litany will never be a closing gesture; it’s rather an opening invitation. Now that the church owns the land outright, our responsibility deepens. We become involved in a longer, more difficult and faithful conversation about land justice.

Creator's ongoing land story is a story of faithfulness, transformation, and hope rooted in place. With the mortgage now burned and the Spirit still stirring, our community is uniquely positioned to ask: How will we tell the next chapter of God’s story—here, on this land, among these people, in this time?

Pastor Melissa Reed closed this portion of the potluck by leading us in new visioning around that question  Certainly, the answer will come, not all at once, not perfectly, but in faithful steps, sacred conversations, and bold acts of love.

May 4, 2025 - Third Sunday of Easter - How Stephen Might be Remembered

Before this read of this passage I thought the church doesn't need more martyrs. Afterwards I knew it needed more Stephens particularly at present. People who will speak up and act when justice is overlooked. People who stay grounded in love even when they are attacked. People who trust the Spirit enough to stand; speak; and, perhaps most importantly, forgive.

Then I found out that the Greek word for martyr was μάρτυς (mártys): who is a person who gives testimony or bears witness, especially in a legal or public context.

In the New Testament, mártys is used to describe someone who testifies about Christ and the gospel. Over time, especially as Christians were persecuted, the term came to be associated with those who bore witness through their suffering and death. Hence, it evolved into its modern meaning: a person who dies for their faith.

Our faith sometimes calls us to justice work. The Spirit calls us not only to worship but to yearn for equitable systems, to provide compassionate care, and confront internal bias and fear, especially when bias and fear affect the marginalized.

Stephen is prophetic figure and models a faith we can have that doesn’t play it safe. His Christianity honors the call to question tradition, critique injustice, and hold systems accountable beyond anger, but rather in Spirit-led conviction. Stephen dies forgiving the very people killing him. In a culture often steeped in retribution and retaliation, this is radical. Forgiveness, empathy, and vision of divine love in the face of hate is our ultimate witness.

Stephen's story reminds us:that the truth might cost us yet the Spirit can never leave us. Christ stands with those who stand for revolutionary love, justice, and compassion. Which makes me wonder if I consider Jesus a martyr. 

He was a witness and Jesus' death is an ultimate testament to God's love and truth. He refused to escape execution, compromise or soften his teachings. Early Christians viewed Jesus as their model for martyrdom and Stephen, mirrors Jesus’ forgiveness and faith in the face of death.

Simultaneously Jesus was more than a martyr. Most martyrs accept death, but Jesus chooses it with a cosmic purpose.Jesus predicted and embraced his death as part of God's plan, Stephen did not. Calling Jesus a martyr might understate our belief that his death defeated sin and death.  Martyrs follow Jesus which suggests that he is the unique foundation of martyrdom rather than one of many. 

Again I wonder about martyrdom in our times and what I feel about those who are, or feel they are called to it. Pastor Emillie asked us about times where we have spoken out and how we felt about those Stephen moments in our life.

I definitely felt more conflicted than courageous regarding my recent Stephen moment. Sometimes it makes me tremble, however when I have seen others rise in their moments all I see is their courage.. 

Mary gave an announcement about the burning of the mortgage which will be celebrated at Pentecost and drew the congregation's attention to the preparation that is planned for the Farmland Produce and Creator's garden. There is a word cloud and string display of what the congregation envisions for Creator's future. 

Living courageous visions can be hard.  

An Exciting Announcement! Dedication of the Farmland Produce Distribution Project's Garden at Creator

     Exciting Announcement!  

 

 

 

We are thrilled to announce a new and exciting partnership between ProjectFPD and Creator Lutheran Church!

This collaboration brings together our shared values and dedication to making a positive impact in our community. Together, we will work towards faithfully stewarding our land.

We can't wait to see what amazing things the Holy Spirit will guide us to achieve together!

 

Here’s to a fruitful and inspiring partnership!  

 

 

July 21, 2024 - A Liturgy for Gardening - Dedication of the Farmland Produce Distribution Project's Garden at Creator

There are no unsacred places; there are only sacred and desecrated places. Wendell Berry 

This was a perfect morning of rain and sunshine for this long anticipated dedication.

Members of Creator and the Farmland Distribution Project gathered last Sunday in the spirit of hope and renewal, to consecrate a space for a garden. This will be a sacred space. Just as God as Creator adorned the world with fruits, plants and flowers, this garden was dedicated to be beautiful and bountiful.

A garden is a reminder of God's unending love and the miracles of creation that surround us. As the planted seeds take root and flourish, we trust everyone's faith will deepen and the harvests will feed many. 

We pray it will thrive under the watchful eyes of those who tend it and the warm embrace of the sun. We wanted to honor to this place where we will come together in fellowship, celebrate the cycles of nature, and recognize the divine in all living things. 

This consecration marks the beginning of a journey invested at this moment with growth, bounty, beauty, and grace.