Author Archives: John Keller

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About John Keller

I am a retired Lutheran pastor whose intention is to consent to God's gracious presence and actions within.

Cleansing of the Temple

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Monday of Holy Week is often remembered for Jesus cleansing the temple of the money changers.

Then he entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling things there. Luke 19:45

Muslim Dome of the Rock

Since the seventh century, the Dome of the Rock shrine stands where the Temple once stood. Jesus came to the Temple to chastise the religious leaders for turning God’s house from a house of prayer into a den of robbers (Mark 11:17).

Since Paul reminds us that we are God’s Temple and that the Spirit of God  dwells in us (I Corinthians 3:16)  Jesus’ actions in the Temple challenges each of us to reflect on how we use our own bodies and lives for God’s kingdom.

On Friday of this past week, I sprained my ankle and must use crutches for it to heal.  In one way I see this as a reminder to slow down and patiently follow Jesus, leaning into his grace and mercy.

How are you remembering that you are God’s temple?  What cleansing is Jesus doing?

Lord Jesus, cleanse me of my sin and renew a right spirit within me.

Palm Sunday

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The Mount of Olives outside of Jerusalem

As Jesus was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.” As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, “If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.” (Luke 19:37-41)

Are you a follower who shouts Hosanna or a stone-cold skeptic that keeps your mouth shut? Or a stone that longs to sing?

Lord Jesus, open our eyes to see you as your truly are, the Prince of Peace.

The Journey

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Next week is central to my identity. My life changes as I enter it. It is the annual pilgrimage of Christians worldwide.

Holy week is more than a seminar on how to improve my life skills.

A popular way to read scripture, preach sermons or write devotionals is to seek life application. The goal is to find specific practices or concepts on how to improve my life. For example, how I might be a better parent or a better spouse, how I can worry less or trust God more. There is a place for life application, but I don’t see the final days of Jesus’ life as serving that primary function.

I want to use a metaphor to explain this. Our lives can be compared to a home where we live. We have our spaces, our furniture, and our routines that shape daily lives. “Life applications” help us do minor rearrangements and some remodeling to our home, but we still manage how the day-to-day routine flows in our home.

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But Holy Week actually forces me out of my home. I am on a pilgrimage to ancient Jerusalem in my imagination. I am part of the crowd that shouts “hosanna” as Jesus enters Jerusalem on a donkey. I join with the disciples in eating with Jesus the upper room. With the crowd outside of Pilate’s court, I shout,  “Crucify him.” Finally I hurry to the tomb with the women, full of wonder.

I gather with the people of Resurrection Lutheran to worship, pray, sing and sit in silence. I will seek no specific application or wisdom other than to be with Jesus.

Through this journey my daily story is rewritten, reworked. Like the hobbit Frodo Baggins, I am on a journey far from my comfortable Shire. And when I return to my home, I have been changed by the journey.

Are you ready to enter the story of Christ’s passion this year?

Lord Jesus, let me truly walk with you this week.

The Path Chosen

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I subscribe to other blogs and two recent posts caught my attention. Both had stunning pictures and described walking in a kind of spiritual wonder and beauty.  I appreciate each photo and  written reflection.  They described paths I yearn to follow.

The first is from Jacob Schriftman.

Morning Walk in Heaven

I love to walk beside the ocean.  One of my most memorable runs was along Seven Mile beach in c, Jamaica.

The second photograph is from Sister Pat Farrell, OP,  a Dominican Sister of San Rafael.

Muir Woods Trail

I also love to hike forest paths.  I am looking forward to a hike this summer on the Pacific Crest Trail.

Yet today, on the first day of spring, my morning run in St. Paul, Minnesota, was on snow and ice. I felt somewhat deprived. I grumbled and complained as I ran. This is not path I would have preferred.    Then I watched a video on the beauty of trail running even in snow.  (It is only two minutes in length, yet inspirational.)

Show me your ways, oh Lord, teach me your paths.  Whether snow-covered or not, teach me to walk, run, and dance with you though all circumstances and situations.

First and Last Communion

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??????????I enjoy teaching first communion classes for families. The children are often excited and eager to learn about this mystery meal. We bake bread, tell stories, and taste foods.  I love connecting the meal to the story of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. We walk through the story of the passion: Palm Sunday parade, the last supper, the trial, crucifixion, and burial.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Then the surprise of Jesus’ resurrection, (which is the name of our congregation I remind the children).

But first communion is just the first step. I like having the parents there since they are rediscovering what the meal is for them. Communion grows in meaning and joy as we participate in it.  There may be times we take it for granted, but God never takes us for granted.  It is always his gift of grace for us.

Though the focus is on preparing for their first communion, I often ask the question, “do any of you know when your last communion will be?”  Together we wonder about the uncertainties of life, yet the constant promise of God to be with us in the Lord’s Supper.  I tell them the story of taking communion to people in hospice as they prepare to die. The meal become an appetizer for the feast that is yet to come. When we will all feast with Jesus and drink the new wine.

Jesus said, “I tell you, I will never again drink of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom” (Matthew 26:29)

Lord Jesus, let me taste again the power of your grace and love.

Forgiveness Can Be Tough

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forgiveness log 2

Forgiveness can be tough. Even though we pray in the Lord’s Prayer, “Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us,” and know that Christ forgives us, we can often struggle to forgive those who wrong us.

I was in college, near the end of my freshman year. A friend and I applied to be resident assistants together in the freshman dorm. We were interviewed for the position by some upper classmates. My friend and I thought the interview had gone well. We both had good references as compassionate, helpful students and since there were only a few applicants, we thought we would both be chosen.

A few days later, I discovered that I had been rejected.

The reason given was that I was too vocal about my Christian faith. The student leaders thought I would be constantly “evangelizing” the freshman on my floor, even though this behavior had not been discussed in the interview. I felt that I had been unfairly rejected and was both disappointed and angry.

I wrestled with how to be forgiving towards the student leaders. I believed they had jumped to a conclusion without ever asking the question. I had helped start a Christian fellowship on the campus where none had existed before, but I was not some “outspoken” evangelist.  In fact, I was often too quiet about my faith in public settings. After the rejection, I wrestled with my resentment towards my fellow students and whether I could forgive them.

Fortunately this wrestling match ended quickly. The Dean of Students (who had written one of my recommendations) heard about this unfair decision and reversed it. I was thankful for his intervention and had a good year as a resident assistant. Still I wonder what I would have done if the Dean had not intervened. How long would I have carried resentments?

Jesus carried no such resentments.  Even as he was nailed to the cross, he said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34).

Have you ever struggled with forgiving someone?

Lord Jesus, forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.

The Day I Killed a Pastor

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Yesterday I preached on Jesus’ parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31). In my sermon I stated that the rich man had not “died” spiritually because he still wanted to order Lazarus to serve his needs. The rich man still acted as if he was in charge. He had not died to himself.

Afterwards I remembered when such a death became real for me.

mark_web

Pastor Mark Wickstrom

I have always felt comfortable about my ability to pray extemporaneously in front of large groups. Years ago I served on the staff of a large congregation with four other pastors. One Sunday morning I was preparing to lead prayers during worship when a pastoral colleague, Mark Wickstrom, handed me a prayer request. He asked that we pray for a former staff person who had died the previous week. Mark was not participating in this specific worship service so he wrote out the name of the person on a prayer request card with his stereotypical scribbled handwriting. I glanced at the card, recognized the name as a former custodian who had health issues and continued the preparation for congregational prayer.

As I lead prayer, we prayed for many written requests. When it came time to pray for those who are grieving, I glanced down at Mark Wickstrom’s scribbled note and prayed, “Lord comfort all who grieve the death of   (pause)   Mark Wickstrom.”

An audible gasp came from the congregation. Mark was a much-loved pastor whose death would be devastating. I immediately knew that I had made a huge gaffe and felt the red crimson of embarrassment rising in my face.

The next words out of my mouth must have been a gift of the Holy Spirit, because after a brief pause I continued, “And Lord, we thank you that you have raised Mark up and that he is alive and well, serving you in a different part of this building right now. (pause)  But we do pray for those who grieve the death of Mark Webinger, our former custodian.”

There was an audible sigh of relief from the congregation as well as a few chuckles. After worship during the coffee fellowship, Mark received many affirmations for being alive, while I endured some ribbing for “killing a pastor.” But what happened that day was not simply a prayer faux pa, but also my trust in myself as a pastoral leader. I realized that I can become too self-assured in my abilities, even in prayer, and that I need to ‘die’ to myself and rise to newness of life in Christ, even as I pray for others. In a way two pastors “died” that morning. Thankfully, also two “resurrections.”

I have been crucified with Christ and it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives within me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me (Galatians 2:19b-20).

Lord Jesus, let me die to self and live for you.

P.S.  Dr. Mark Wickstrom continues to live and serve as lead pastor of Community Lutheran Church in Las Vegas, Nevada.

Snow Days and Daily Bread

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sleddingsnowblastwebYesterday was a snow day for many school districts in the Twin Cities area. The foot of snow was a fun excuse for many families to be outdoors, sledding on hills and building snow forts. Afterwards they could warm up with hot cocoa or bake fresh cookies.

But the school districts in Saint Paul and Minneapolis did not have snow day. Instead the buses took their time delivering these urban children to their school. I don’t know all the reasons they stayed open, but one of them was probably hunger. For many children in poverty, school is the one place where they are assured of getting a nutritious meal. According to Bread for the World, 16.2 million children struggle with hunger every day. You can learn more about hunger through the new documentary, “A Place at the Table.”

BreadAs a Christian I pray the Lord’s prayer daily. In it I pray, “Give us today our daily bread.” I am not simply praying, “Give me today my daily bread,” but for OUR daily bread. I am praying for my brothers and sister in Christ who need food today. After all the book of James cautions,

What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? (James 2:14-17)

I am thankful for the efforts my congregation (and many congregations) who work to fed others. Efforts like the Cure Ministry that serves meals at East Emmanuel Lutheran in St. Paul and the Christian Cupboard that provides food to many families in the Woodbury area. But I sense that more can be done. What do you think?

Lord Jesus, give us today our daily bread, especially for the hungry children in our midst.

Of Crucial Importance

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The best devotional book I have read in the past decade is Henri Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son.  Nouwen uses Rembrandt’s painting, Return of the Prodigal Son, to unpack Jesus’ parable in Luke 15. He helped me see that at times I am the wayward younger son, at times the angry elder son, and even at times, the compassionate father. I found his description of the elder son’s reluctance to join in the celebration of the father’s love speaking directly to my own heart.

For me, personally, the possible conversion of the elder son is of crucial importance. There is much in me of the group of which Jesus is most critical: the Pharisees and the scribes. I have studied the books, learned about laws, and often presented myself as an authority in religious matters. People have shown me respect and even called me “reverend” . . . I have been critical of many types o behavior and often passed judgment on others.

So when Jesus tells the parable of the prodigal son, I have to listen with the awareness that I m closest to those who elicited the story from him with the remark, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Is there any chance for me to return to the Father and feel welcome in his home? Or am I so ensnared in my own self-righteous complaints that I am doomed, against my own desires, to remain outside of the house, wallowing in my anger and resentment?

Jesus says: “How blessed are you when you are poor . . . blessed are you who are hungry . . . blessed are you who are weeping . . . ,” but I am not poor, hungry or weeping.  Jesus prays: “I bless you Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for hiding these things [of the kingdom] from the learned and clever.” It is to these, the learned and clever, that I clearly belong. Jesus shows a distinct preference for those who are marginal in society—the poor, the sick, and the sinners—but I am not marginal.

But the story of the elder son puts all of these agonizing questions in a new light, making it very plain that God does not love the younger son more than the elder. In the story the father goes out to the elder son just as he did to the younger, urges him to come in, and says, “My son, you are with me always, and all I have is yours.”

The harsh and bitter reproaches of the son are not met with words of judgment. There is no recrimination or accusation. The father does not defend himself or even comment on the elder son’s behavior. The father moves directly beyond all evaluations to stress his intimate relationship with his son when he says, “You are with me always.” (p. 79-80)

Lord Jesus, thank you for the promise: “You are with me always.”

February is the Longest Month

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The month of February is not the shortest month, but the longest for me. The length of a Minnesota winter has always been a big psychological barrier. I did not embraced Nordic skiing this winter and now my winter running has been interrupted by a nagging hamstring injury. For the past month as I watched the snow piles rise in the church parking lot I wondered if spring will ever come.

Saint Ambrose beyond the snow.

Saint Ambrose beyond the snow.

Yet I hope in the promise of spring. The evidence of it may be fleeting, but I am confident that the snow will melt, the trees will bud and my winter coat will be shed.

In a similar way, I take hope in God’s promises of scripture. The Bible is not a set of apps that I can download into my life. I cannot go to the “Google Playstore” and find a verse or two on depression or happiness and plug them into my life. No, the Bible is more like a story into which I am invited. As I live God’s story I discover that no matter how chaotic or troubling the plot may be at times, the Author remains faithful to the story of redemption and new life.

Just as I know that spring will come to Minnesota, I know that Jesus rose from the dead and comes to bring life. Beyond the snows of winter lies the promise of new life.

This is written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name (John 20:31).

Walter Brueggemann wrote these word of questions and hope regarding the Bible thirty years ago.

The central concerns of the Bible are not flat certitudes . . . but assurances that are characterized by risk and open mystery. The quality of certitude offered by the Bible is never that of a correct answer but rather of a trusted memory, a dynamic image, a restless journey, a faithful voice. Such assurances leave us restless and tentative in the relation, and always needing to decide afresh. Rather than closing out things in a settled resolution, they tend to open things out, always in fresh and deep question and urgent invitation. The central thrust of the Bible, then, is to raise new questions, to press exploration of new dimensions of fidelity, new spheres for trust. Such questions serve as invitations to bolder, richer faithfulness. Such questions also serve as critics exposing our easy resolution, our faithless posturing, and our self-deception. If the Bible is only a settled answer, it will not reach us seriously. But it is also an open question that presses and urges and invites. For that reason the faithful community is never fully comfortable with the Bible and never has finally exhausted its gifts or honored its claims. (The Bible Makes Sense)

Lord Jesus, continue to write hope upon my heart.