“And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.” 2 Corinthians 3:18

Recently I was driving to Homewood for a communion service. It had been a busy day and my mind was preoccupied with a host of things I needed to consider, plan, address and do. I was also running a few minutes late, which further added to my distraction. It was no great surprise then when I drove right past my turn into Homewood. I was annoyed at my inattentiveness, but my irritation passed shortly after I made my detour turn onto Cross Cove Road because there I was greeted with a view of Homewood that was different from the one I would have witnessed from my proper turn, Givler Drive. The mountain behind Homewood was blanketed with a soft layer of snow. The sight was so unexpectedly beautiful that my mouth fell open in astonishment. I quickly whispered a prayer of thanks to God for my diversion, because it brought a change of perspective and a little miracle of beauty to my afternoon that transformed not only my drive to Homewood but my entire day. It reminded me to approach every day – and especially all of our unexpected detours in this life – with an air of anticipation and expectation. God can – and will – transform everything into something beautiful and life-giving.

There is no better example of this than the cross. Within the Roman Empire, the cross was a tool of brutality, terror, torture and death. The surest way to quell a rebellion was to line a well-traveled road with tall wooden crosses on
which the troublemakers would be nailed for all to see. Their painful, public deaths would serve as a warning to all others not to challenger the Emperor. Two thousand years later, many Christians wear a miniature version of this
torture device around their necks. We do so not because we glory in pain or death, but because the cross serves as a reminder of Christ’s victory over death for himself and for all of us. The cross thus serves as the ultimate symbol of new life and God’s glorious transformative power.

Pause now and take a moment to examine your life. Have you taken a few wrong turns? Have you experienced some painful moments? Have you caused pain in others? If we answer honestly, all of us are going to respond “yes” to all three questions. But fortunately, that is not the final word. God is transforming us and our circumstances in order to bring hope, joy and new beginnings where others can see only despair, sadness and bitter endings. But how can this be? Martin Luther provides the answer in the Small Catechism: “I believe that by my own understanding or strength I cannot believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him, but instead the Holy Spirit has called me through the gospel,
enlightened me with his gifts, made me holy, and kept me in the true faith, just as he calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes holy the whole Christian church on earth and keeps it with Jesus Christ in the one common, true faith.”

And so as 2012 begins, let us press forward in confidence and joy, anticipating and expecting God’s miracles and an outpouring of God’s transformative grace in our lives, in our families, in our congregation and in our community – not because we have earned it but because God’s love is richer, deeper, more powerful and more lavishly given than we can ever imagine. Thanks be to God!

“In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.” Acts 2:17, quoting Joel 2:28.

December is such an exciting month for me because it is filled with so many wonderful traditions. I have always loved the tradition of the Advent wreath. When I was a boy, we would craft our wreaths with real ground pine. The earthy smell of the pine, the brightness of the candles and the anticipation of the season combined to heighten my excitement for all that was coming.

December is also filled with culinary traditions in our family. The scent of Christmas cookies fills the air as recipes, lovingly passed down from ancestors long-departed, come alive once again on kitchen counters and baking sheets to delight and nourish a new generation. We Swedish-Americans also look forward to our traditional Christmas Eve feast of freshly prepared Lutefisk, served over boiled potatoes and seasoned with a generous dollop of butter and dried mustard. It is accompanied with homemade Korv (Swedish sausage) using a secret family recipe that has its roots in the Old Country, and everything is topped off with pickled herring and Swedish rye bread. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it!

One of my fondest childhood memories of December was the arrival of the Sears Wish Book. I would spend hours and hours poring over each page as I compiled a list of all of the toys I wanted, and I dreamed about what it would be like to receive them all. Before long, the poor catalog would be so worn and dog-eared that it had to be reinforced with liberal quantities of scotch tape. When my little brother came along, our competition for the Wish Book was so fierce that my poor mother had to eventually ask the nice folks at the Sears retail store in town to give us a second copy so that each son would have one. (She had plenty of incentive to do this, because she knew it would keep us quiet for a while!) The Sears Wish Book is long gone, but the tradition of looking at toy catalogs and dreaming has continued as Emilio has begun to do the very same thing with the ads and flyers that pack our Altoona Mirror.

A year ago, I was completing reams of paperwork in preparation for my assignment by the ELCA to a Region and a Synod. I dreamed that I might be blessed to serve in a community like Martinsburg and a parish like St. Matthew, but I had no idea if those dreams ever could or would come true. Likewise, St. Matthew was dreaming that it might one day have a permanent pastor again and wondered if it was possible. Thankfully, our mutual dreams did come true because those dreams were God’s dreams. Their fulfillment, however, does not mean that our work has ended. In fact, it has only begun. In God’s dream, God has brought together pastor and parish with the challenge of proclaiming – and living – the Good News of Jesus Christ. As part of this, God is calling us now to fill our hearts and minds with new dreams – big dreams – for ourselves, our congregation and our community.

In the flicker of Advent candles, in the twinkling of Christmas lights, in the aroma of traditional foods and in the familiar yet ever-astonishing news that the King of Kings comes to us in a lowly manger, be listening for the Holy Spirit’s whisper as God pours new and thrilling dreams into all of us. At first those dreams might seem too big, too far-fetched or too incredible. But if they are God’s dreams, then they can and will come true. So, people of St. Matthew Lutheran Church: together with God and one another, let’s dream!

“For God…is my witness that without ceasing I remember you always in my prayers." -Romans 1:9

Living in Gettysburg exposed me to a great deal of Civil War history. It also exposed me to some of the arts, music and literature of that era. At this time of year, I find myself thinking of a beautiful poem entitled “The Vacant Chair” that Henry S. Washburn wrote and published in the midst of that conflict on Thanksgiving of 1861. The poem poignantly portrays a family that is mourning the death of a loved one in the Civil War. It was later set to music and became a
beloved song in both the North and South. The chorus states:

"We shall meet, but we shall miss him.

There will be one vacant chair.

We shall linger to caress him.

While we breathe our ev'ning prayer.”

This song resonates with me in this season because it reminds me of the many vacant chairs we will recall on November 6 during the festival of All Saints Sunday, during which we will remember all of the faithful departed of the church, but especially those who have passed during the last 12 months.

Washburn’s lyrics also remind me of the many vacant chairs that will surround our Thanksgiving tables. In the midst of all of the eating we will do on November 24 and all of the Christmas shopping and bargain hunting that will consume us in the days thereafter, we need to remember that there are people among us who are hurting because of a vacant chair.

All of us have either lost someone who is precious to us or we know someone who has experienced such a loss. So this November, especially during the feasting and shopping, please take time to remember and honor all the vacant chairs and the loved ones who once sat there. Remember and honor the pain you feel from those losses. Remember the good times too. But most of all, remember Jesus Christ, who in his death and resurrection conquered sin and death for us so that one day we will all be blessed to gather together again, this time with every chair filled.

"Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and what mercy hehas shown you." Jesus, in Mark 5:19, speaking to a man he had just healed.

A few weeks ago WPSU broadcast a documentary entitled “Our Town: Kane &Mt. Jewett.” The broadcast stretched over three hours, and included the sights and scenes of Kane, the town in which I was raised. Even the frequent breaks to solicit pledges and donations were entertaining because Kane “personalities” staffed the phone lines and engaged in silly, good natured ribbing and banter with the hosts. I was filled with equal parts joy and pride as I saw so many familiar places and the dear faces of treasured friends and acquaintances. The show reminded me of all the wonderful things that unite those of us – past and present – with ties to that small corner of McKean County. That’s not to say that Kane is perfect. Like any community, it has its problems and challenges. But it played a crucial role in forming who I am and so it will always claim a special part of me.

In a very similar way, I know that St. Matthew has that kind of effect on folks. There’s something about the carillon bells, the stained glass, and our distinctive, traditional form of Lutheran worship that provides a comforting, nourishing reminder of your formation. The timeless words from Holy Scripture that comprise our Liturgy, the melodies of familiar hymns, and the marvelous, mystical encounter with Christ that we are promised in the proclamation of God’s Word and the Sacraments of Baptism and Communion fill us with peace, warm our souls and testify that we are home. That’s not to say that St. Matthew Lutheran Church is perfect. Like any community, we have our problems and challenges. But for nearly two centuries, St. Matthew has played and will continue to play a crucial role in forming Christian disciples in the Martinsburg area and will always claim a special part of all who have the privilege of worshipping here, including those like me who have been blessed to be called to serve as Pastor of this remarkable congregation.

It’s no secret that during a pastoral vacancy, attendance falls. Folks drift away. Other things can so easily take the place that church once filled. In the last three months, through God’s grace, attendance has increased. People are coming back home, and for that I am deeply pleased. But we can all think of folks who at one time regularly attended St. Matthew but who we have not seen recently in worship. It might be a family member, a friend, a neighbor or a co-worker. Please invite that person to come back to St. Matthew. Please invite them to come back home.

Maybe that person is you. Perhaps you have been away for a time. And maybe, as you are reading this, God is stirring something in you, filling you with a holy longing to come back to St. Matthew. “But Pastor,” you might be anxiously thinking, “I’ve been away for so long. What are the people going to say to me?! What will you say to me?!”

I think our response will be quite simple. “We missed you. Welcome back to St. Matthew. Welcome home.” For here at God’s house, there is always a place at the table set just for you.

"You shall put these words of mine in your heart and soul, and you shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and fix them as an emblem on your forehead. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise.” Deut. 11:18-19

September is a month full of transitions. The days begin to shorten and the temperatures begin to moderate. But perhaps the biggest transition for all is the return to school. For students, this has obvious consequences: an alarm clock that blares much earlier in the morning, the “joy” of school lunches and, of course, homework. The transition is challenging for parents too, who have to adapt to a new schedule and, in some cases, adjust to a newly empty nest. Change can be challenging. But with change comes fresh, exciting opportunities to learn and to grow.

This September is a particularly odd one for me because I am not going back to school. For 26 of my 45 years of mortality – 58% of my life – I have spent September in a school of one sort or another. Kane, Clarion, Morgantown, Boston and Gettysburg were the places where each September I would take up my pencil (or pen or, more recently, laptop computer) and begin the joyful and challenging process of learning. This annual cycle of education has become so ingrained in me that the Staples “Back to School” sales generate genuine excitement in my heart. Highlighters for a dollar! Erasers for 5 cents! Spiral-bound notebooks for a dime! And then there’s that “new book” smell… Yes I know; this is more than a little strange…but the process of learning really excites me and I think God has blessed me with this thirst for knowledge as part of the call to ordained ministry that God issued to me.

When you were growing up, did you have a favorite teacher? I can think of a number of teachers in elementary school, middle school, high school and throughout college and graduate school who had a profound influence on me. They opened worlds of knowledge to me and helped shape who I am. I think of them often and thank God for gracing my life with so many talented and dedicated teachers.

With Rally Day approaching, I’m especially reminded of the many wonderful Sunday School and Vacation Bible School teachers who taught me the fundamentals of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and through whom God blessed me with faith and understanding. I’m sure they all had moments when they wondered if anything they were teaching was sinking in. It did! The truth they taught changed my life and the lives of many others.

And so I want to thank all who teach. Be it at a public institution, a private school, here at St. Matthew or within the walls of your home, I thank God for you and for the great and important work you are doing. It is hard work, work to which you have been called and prepared by God. You are a blessing to every student you encounter and you really do make a difference.

Praise God for teachers!