Happy Thanksgiving! Join Pastor Dave for a short message between worship songs you can sign along with to celebrate Thanksgiving.
​
Musicians: Paul Wagner (piano)
Scott & Arah Jeide
Jonelle Hudson
Sara Manning
Barb Wagner
Carly Oppie

​COVID-19 has changed nearly everything about how we interact. Multiple months of social isolation have caused churches to re-examine what it means to be a community, to worship, and to carry out their missions of faith. Most churches have considered these things prayerfully and deliberately. Others have tried to stand like rocks against the viral tide—and unfortunately against public need—insisting that their priorities remain central in every circumstance, attaching God’s name to their views in order to justify the stance.
 
In the face of the resurgent virus, on behalf of those suffering from it and all the people around them, I think it’s important to examine and debunk some of the arguments that churches are using to justify in-person meetings, mask-less gatherings, and boisterous worship services. They don’t make sense right now. None of the ELCA Lutheran churches in our area are doing these things, but we are not the only faith communities in existence. You can’t go very far on social media without finding video featuring irresponsible gatherings. You can’t go very far in your own social circles without finding someone who’s advocating doing the same.
 
Today we’re going to look at three claims people make to justify their worship practices in the face of COVID, sharing where they fall short. We’ve heard all of these things repeated in public. Most of us have said some version of them ourselves.
 
“God Must be Worshiped!!!”
 
From the earliest stories of Israelites wandering in the wilderness, to the Book of Acts, to our modern church, we do not know a faith life without a worship community surrounding it. God and our neighbors are linked. They cannot be separated.
 
That said, there’s a huge difference between saying, “Worship is irreplaceable in our relationship with God,” and saying, “MY worship in MY way is necessary to God right this instant!” The former explores the implications of a relationship beyond is. The latter centers around the self and quickly becomes idolatrous.
 
The people who make that second claim emphasize worship as our gift to God. They posit a God out there waiting for us to do and say the right things. If we do not, God will be angry, or somehow feel impoverished and diminished.
 
At best, God is a demanding child in this construct, refusing to act until he hears what he wants to hear, punishing those who don’t give him what he wants. At worst, God becomes dependent on us. We become the prime movers, for whom and upon whom the Lord of the Universe waits. By our magic words we summon God, who comes at our beck and call to do our bidding because we are so faithful.
 
Neither one of these definitions of God is very powerful, or convincing.
 
Worship is not a way of “buying off” God. What do we have that an infinite Lord could possibly need? Who told us we were the center of the universe, the ones God depends on to make himself feel good? Where, in all the ministry of Jesus Christ, do we find the lesson that God only responds to those who shout the loudest, claim the most faithfulness, or do things only in the way prescribed to benefit themselves? You have to read sideways to see any of these things in the Bible.
 
Instead, worship is a mutual relationship conveying love. We encounter God everywhere we go: at home, in the supermarket...everywhere! We may not always see God clearly in those places. In worship, God comes in ways we can all gather around, despite our differences in experience and perception. Seeing God in worship helps us perceive God (and God’s love) all around us, among us and all our neighbors.
 
In this way, worship is a gift. It’s not created by us, for God, to make God happy. It’s given by God, with and among us, for the benefit and goodness of all.
 
Worshiping in a way that does not care for others is theologically backwards, the exact opposite of what the gathering is meant to be. Saying, “We must gather as we always have no matter who it hurts because that’s what God expects,” neither honors God nor worship. It betrays the purpose of both.
 
In the first chapter of Isaiah, the voice of the Lord speaks about exactly these things. It says:
 
11 What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices?
    says the Lord;
I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams
    and the fat of fed beasts;
I do not delight in the blood of bulls,
    or of lambs, or of goats.
 
12 When you come to appear before me,
    who asked this from your hand?
    Trample my courts no more;
13 bringing offerings is futile;
    incense is an abomination to me.
New moon and sabbath and calling of convocation--
    I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity.
14 Your new moons and your appointed festivals
    my soul hates;
they have become a burden to me,
    I am weary of bearing them.
15 When you stretch out your hands,
    I will hide my eyes from you;
even though you make many prayers,
    I will not listen;
    your hands are full of blood.
16 Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;
    remove the evil of your doings
    from before my eyes;
cease to do evil,
17     learn to do good;
seek justice,
    rescue the oppressed,
defend the orphan,
    plead for the widow.
 
When every festival, gathering, or motion of the community tramples the vulnerable (in Isaiah, the oppressed, orphan, and widow, but also applicable to people today at risk of contracting COVID), those gatherings become an abomination to God. “Who asked you to do these things?” God says. And God says this no matter what the community claims to be offering up to him.
 
Do we somehow think that the world, or God’s relationship with it, will end if we don’t gather at precisely “x” o’clock on Sunday morning and do exactly what we’re used to? Or do we stand among a communion of saints extending backwards and forwards as far as time itself, all of whom worshiped in different ways? Are we even asking the right questions here? I’m guessing that when or how we worship isn’t nearly as important to God as who we worship and for whom.
 
Faith without compassion is empty. Worship that disregards care for the neighbor and the world is empty, self-centered braying. We can put God’s name on it, but that doesn’t make it any more right or holy. It’s less, in fact, since we’re bearing false witness to the world in the process.
 
“They’re taking away my right to worship!”
 
How many times have we heard this in 2020? The claim shows as poor an understanding of rights as the prior claim does of worship. It turns the whole concept on its ear, abandoning goodness for all in favor of goodness for self.
 
Common rights didn’t always govern our interactions. Once upon a time, rights belonged to monarchs, or the rich, or the people with the biggest club. Everyone else had to go along, or suffer. The Constitution of the United States was one of several documents claiming that rights belonged not just to some people, but to all. We’re still wrestling with perfect implementation, but the direction is clear.
 
The Constitution did not claim to invent rights. Instead it rested on the claim that human rights are inalienable...that they cannot be separated from our humanity. The framers of the Constitution were careful to say that their documents spelled out those pre-existing rights, but it did not grant them. They could not be bestowed by a piece of paper, nor could they be taken away. They were to be uplifted, acknowledged, and lived by.
 
We all have value. The framers claimed that both government and our interactions with each other should reflect that universal, pre-existing truth. Rights do not say, “I am more important than the community and I will get my own way.” Rights became our guiding principles precisely because someone said to their neighbors, “You matter in a way no individual or communal practice should take away.”
 
Claiming a right to worship in a way that harms the surrounding community is a perversion of the entire concept of rights. It asserts what the right is while betraying what the right is for.
 
People making this claim want to peel back the concept of rights to the exact point that it gives them what they want, without regard to anyone around them. The vehicle they use to do this—worship and the church—becomes the club they employ to enforce their will over others. They attempt to become the new monarchs, repeating the refrain, “I get what I want, and everyone else has to go along or suffer.” Neither the church, nor the concept of rights, can retain integrity when used that way.
 
Churches already attend to matters of public safety as they operate. We have building inspections. We follow fire and health codes. Nobody would claim that refusing to serve expired, moldy potato salad would be taking away our right to potluck. Nobody would claim that closing the sanctuary if the roof were about to cave in was a violation of our right to gather. We understand those as prudent measures to preserve the goodness that gathering and eating were meant to bring. So is worshiping remotely in the time of COVID.
 
We are capable of gathering in ways that are less harmful to others than  in-person worship would be. Re-defining our concept of worship for a season is far less severe than re-defining the concept of rights and human value forever. We can worship in a different way and still remain faithful. We cannot assert our right to worship to the detriment of our neighbors without betraying the core values of rights and worship.
 
“Remote worship is just not the same...”
 
No argument here! You’re right. It’s just not the same worshiping virtually. We worship at odd times, in different places and ways. It doesn’t create the same feeling of comfort. We don’t get to see the same people or do the same things. We feel a loss. We feel lonely. Even after months of getting accustomed to it, it’s still strange.
 
Even if virtual worship isn’t “the same”, what price are we willing to pay for our familiarity and comfort?
 
As of November 21st, the CDC reported 240,000 Americans had died from COVID-19. They started counting on February 1st, roughly ten months prior.
 
For perspective, the polio epidemic in the United States peaked in 1952, with 57,628 total cases and 3,145 deaths that year. Typhoid took 25,830 lives between 1906 and 1907. The U.S. lost 116,000 people in 1957 to the H2N2 flu, the deadliest outbreak of the 20th century. COVID has already doubled that in ten months.
 
Mortality data are difficult to pin down, even for experts. Johns Hopkins University cites 79 deaths per 100,000 people in the United States due to COVID. That doesn’t take into account age or risk factors. Out of every 100,000 random people in the population, 79 have died from COVID so far.
 
Let’s pretend that rate stays the same. We are not the largest congregation in the universe, but even in a congregation the size of Shepherd of the Valley’s, those numbers amount to a 40% chance of someone dying if we continue to risk the virus by coming together in person.
 
I have a hunch if we factor in other risk factors it’s higher, but let’s just go with 40%, the most conservative possible estimate. It doesn’t sound too bad in the abstract, right? 40% is less than a coin flip.
 
Now bring it down to the people you know, the community we love and want to be a part of. Who is it going to be? Whose life is worth that risk?
 
We’ve had multiple positive tests among our members this year. I’ve had to take two tests myself and I can’t be 100% sure that I’m completely clear. Nor can my family. Will it be me taking that coin-flip risk? You? Our parents? Our children? How about the people we shop beside? The technicians at the medical clinic?
 
Those big-gathering worship videos seem so tantalizing and faithful. Are you going to look at them the same when you realize that, on average, for every 1,000 people on that tape, one person will die?
 
It seems so unfair when you drive by another church with a sign that says, “In-person worship open now!” Does it seem the same when you open the paper or turn on CNN and see Boise, Idaho in the news?
 
Will this still feel like holy community to you when you factor in all the people we might be infecting, or the number of weeks we might be prolonging the virus and the long-term health complications that COVID-19 can bring?
 
How do I, as lead pastor at Shepherd of the Valley, get up in front of people at a funeral and explain that they lost their beloved family member or friend because we just didn’t feel the same worshiping away from each other? How do I get up and give a sermon explaining how our comfort was more important to us--and to God--than the life of the person they loved?
 
Are you willing to flip a coin that I’m going to have to preside over that service? I’ve thought long and hard about it. It’s not something I’m willing to do.
 
I’ve been an ordained minister for a while now. I believe community is an irreplaceable facet of faith, without which we do not understand clearly God’s voice or our calling through it. Emphasizing safety is not against church, but for the people who are out there risking their lives every day: medical professionals and healthcare workers, chaplains and people serving in assisted living facilities, those working in retail or transportation. It’s for infectious disease experts begging us to include compassion for our neighbors when we think about faith. It’s also for those among you who would see their lives change—or maybe even end—if we prioritize “church” or “worship” or “rights” over you being a beloved child of God who deserves to be safe.
 
Millions of people have virtual interactions every day. People do find life, hope, joy, and connection through online venues. It’s perfectly fine to say that adjusting is hard or different. We cannot claim it’s impossible. Finding a way to do that, not just among ourselves, but with everyone around us, is not an inconvenience or distraction from the mission of the church; it IS the mission of the church.
 
It’s not enough to ask what a church is. We’re supposed to ask who it’s for. If we do not include our neighbors, particularly people who are vulnerable to serious complications from COVID, then our faith extends no further than our belt buckles and our God no further than our minds. I don’t believe that’s what we stand for. I don’t believe that’s what we should witness to the world.
 
I don’t know how this will all turn out. I can’t even guarantee you it’s the right thing. All I know is that when this is all over, saying that we didn’t open before it was time will become its own witness to what we’re about, and more importantly, a witness to who God is and how God loves the world.
 
--Pastor Dave
 
 

Hello, Shepherd of the Valley Faith Community!
We haven’t talked like this in a bit, as I’ve been concentrating on video and podcast that reach people outside our walls easier than the written word. I wanted to take a few moments to talk about the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, sharing where we are.

We recently sent out a survey to members, asking them to rank themselves on a scale of 0-10, with 0 being, “Can’t/won’t come back until there’s a vaccine and COVID is no longer and issue” and 10 being, “I’d come back immediately if you opened the doors”.

The results for the survey were split, with no clear consensus. Around 25% of people said they’d come back now. A few less than that said the exact opposite, that they can’t or won’t come back. The rest were spread throughout the middle. As with so many things nowadays, we’re all over the map.

In the meantime, COVID has surged around us in yet another wave across the country, particularly in Idaho. Positive return rates are spiking to all-time highs. Hospitals are filling rapidly, many full or overburdened. Governments are considering re-instituting isolation protocols. Some already have.

We talk about these things nearly every church council meeting. Watching what is happening around us, understanding that we serve a God of compassion who cares about the health of the people around us and setting an ethical, just example for the world, our course and resolve remain clear. As difficult as it is, we do not foresee re-opening in-person worship under these circumstances.

We have resolved to take several measures during this interim time. Please read them and take a moment to consider each one.

1. We understand that, after multiple months of separation, feelings of distance are real among us. Beginning this Sunday, we’re opening up a Zoom meeting every Sunday afternoon at 4:00 for you to come and talk about the worship, gospel, and sermon for that day. Wednesday nights in Advent will be led by the Treasure Valley Cluster of Lutheran churches, but after the new year, we’ll also be opening a Wednesday night Zoom meeting where SoV folks can meet and talk about whatever they wish...almost like a virtual fellowship hall.

2. The sense of loneliness and loss will be particularly pronounced for some of us around the holidays. We are opening up opportunities for you to participate in our virtual Christmas Eve experience this year. We’re asking confirmation students to share some thoughts with us. We’ll be distributing luminaries to anyone who wants one, for you to light on your porch on Christmas Eve. We’re also going to ask you to record yourself lighting up a candle at home, so we can make that part of our service that evening. Along with music and a couple other things, we hope this will make us feel closer on that night.

3. Very soon, we’re going to be mailing and emailing you an update of all the things we’ve been doing this year, plus a couple yet to come so you can see that even though we haven’t met in person, your church and many people in it have been incredibly active.

4. We’re going to schedule and provide you instructions for our annual meeting in January, during which we’ll have important future plans to discuss.

5. We will pledge that, barring anything but a complete national disaster, we will assemble for an Easter Morning service in person. We may not be able to be back inside by then, but we will either rent a park, gather in someone’s field, or use our own parking lot and remain in cars. Whatever it takes, we’ll gather on Easter morning. (If we can gather safely before then, we will.)

We hope that these measures will provide comfort and assurance, if not hope.

Tomorrow in this same space, I’m going to talk about some of the theological rationales underpinning the COVID discussion and our stance on it. Watch for that if you’re interested in a deeper discussion of what’s at stake here for church people. Also watch your weekly emails for instructions on joining Zoom meetings and how you can help out for Christmas Eve!

Blessings on your Thanksgiving week. We’ll see you on Wednesday for our Thanksgiving Eve service!
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--Pastor Dave

​Ep. 97 - Changes, Part 2: Justin and Dave examine two streams of decision-making, how the church has migrated from one to the other over the centuries, and how our modern churches end up getting fast-tracked to inertia because of the way we drive them. What questions does your church need to ask in order to unpack and evolve your decision-making process?

The Geek and Greek podcast is a show where two reverends talk honestly and clearly about faith, Christianity, scripture, and life. 
​
Follow us at GeekAndGreek.com!

​In the next week many of us will be making or have already made the tough choices to not gather with our loved ones in the traditional ways we usually do. We are finding new and creative ways to celebrate together while apart. Finding ways to be together that keep everyone safe and healthy. Through this we will also grieve the loss of our traditions, of food shared around a table, of time spent playing with cousins. This will be my first thanksgiving not being home, it will be the first Thanksgiving in as long as I can remember without a morning spent with family on a wagon ride singing songs and sharing stories (except two years ago when it was so cold we all stayed inside). I won’t get my traditional photo with my cousin and her kiddos, or go with them to see Santa come into Cooperstown on the Friday after Thanksgiving. However, I am not dreading the Holiday next week. It will be different, but there are good reasons for why it will be different. We are continuing to make sacrifices and changes to protect ourselves, our family, and those around us. So in the midst of all of this how do we still celebrate and give thanks when it can feel like there isn’t always a lot to be thankful for right now. 

If you are struggling to feel thankful maybe making a list of things you are thankful for can help. Giving thanks can start small. Being thankful for having the basics of food, water, and shelter and praying for those who don’t have those necessities. Then as you feel ready grow the bubble of thankfulness from there. Or, I have seen many people posting lately each day one thing (or more) that day they are thankful for; you could end your day by thinking of something that made you thankful or grateful, whether it was the beauty of the sunrise or a stranger who made you smile. Things like this are important because they can help re-center us when we feel so disconnected and lost. By thinking about even just one small thing that makes us thankful can help us create a mindset of gratefulness that we can pass along to others through our actions. When we think thankful thoughts we act in thoughtful ways. When we think grateful thoughts we act in generous ways.
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In this season of holidays that will be so different for so many of us, I pray that we all take time to think about and reflect on the things we are thankful for. To see that even in the midst of so much that seems different and hard there is good and growth happening too. 

Blessings,
​Sara

​We know we're never alone, but sometimes it feels like we are. How the Parable of the Talents speaks to people in isolation.

​Ep. 96 - Changes, Part 1: Justin and Dave wrap up their series on Change in the Church by talking about how changes have developed historically/biblically and who got to make them. From the Tower of Babel to the Council of Nicaea and beyond, movement and faith have gone hand in hand for God's people.

The Geek and Greek podcast is a show where two reverends talk honestly and clearly about faith, Christianity, scripture, and life. 
​
Follow us at GeekAndGreek.com!

We are many parts; we are all one body. And the gifts we have, we were given to share. May the spirit of love, make us one indeed; One, the Love that we share; One, our hope and despair; One, the cross that we bear.
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God of all, we look to you, we would be your servants true, let us be your love for all the world.
We are many parts; we are all one body. And the gifts we have, we were given to share. May the spirit of love, make us one indeed; One, the Love that we share; One, our hope and despair; One, the cross that we bear.

So my pain is pain for you. In your joy, is my joy too, all is brought together in the Lord.

We are many parts; we are all one body. And the gifts we have, we were given to share. May the spirit of love, make us one indeed; One, the Love that we share; One, our hope and despair; One, the cross that we bear.

All you seekers great and small, Seek the greatest gift of all, If you love, then you will know the Lord.
We are many parts; we are all one body. And the gifts we have, we were given to share. May the spirit of love, make us one indeed; One, the Love that we share; One, our hope and despair; One, the cross that we bear.

I love most things by Haugen, but I think the words in particular are what spoke so strongly to me with this piece. Throughout the pandemic I have felt the weight of division around how to go about life while also protecting each other. Seeing protests about wearing masks, something that seems so simple as a way to protect each other, yet is so divisive. Through the way our country feels like a divided front in how we should combat the virus, with each state having its own plan of attack, rather than one united plan as to how to help us all get through this together. And need I even mention our division as a country and as people when it comes to politics. Whether it be the advertisements that degrade opponents, or how entrenched we are in a two party system, it shows how deep we have let division seep into our midst.

This song spoke to my feelings of wishing we could learn to love each other, and realize that we are all in this together whether we like it or not. I feel like I have written about this a lot lately, in different ways, about the need to love our neighbor, to love each other, even when we disagree. I think that is because it is so poignant to where we are at and what we are experiencing in our daily lives. Whether it be disagreements about how to cope and live alongside and through a global pandemic, or disagreements about who to vote for and why, it feels like there is so much division and anger everywhere. And my heart longs more and more for us to find ways to have space for conversations where we can see how much we really do have in common as people and not just focus on the reasons we disagree.

This is where I come back to the song, and the second verse in particular: So my pain is pain for you. In your joy, is my joy too, all is brought together in the Lord. It talks about feeling each other’s pain and joy, feeling empathy for what others are experiencing. Which reminds me of a verse from one of my favorite hymns: I will weep when you are weeping, when you laugh I'll laugh with you. I will share your joy and sorrow till we've seen this journey through (from “Will You Let Me be Your Servant”). This, I think, is the important task, to create space to see and listen to each other’s pain and joy. To see that each number in the Covid death toll is a person with a family is grieving their loss. To see what brings joy and pain to each other. To fully see each other and all that comes with that. To see that we are many parts but we are all one body.

I pray this day that the spirit of love continues to work in and through us all, to help us see how connected we are to each other. To help us do every day the work that needs to be done to make us one indeed.

Blessings,
​Sara

​Last Sunday's gospel referenced the Kingdom of Heaven. What does that really mean? Is it just the end time? Explore the God who walks with us every day in this week's Thursday Thoughts.

Saul/Paul was a pretty mean guy who persecuted Christians. Then, on the road to Damascus, he was blinded by a vision of Jesus. With the help of Ananias, he was transformed into a follower of Jesus and became one of the most well-known evangelists ever.

• What changed about Saul/Paul after Jesus appeared to him?
• Why was Ananias afraid?
​ • When have you changed your mind about something?