It took me a long time to decide what to write about for this month’s newsletter lead. One of the things that is on my mind right now is all the planning we’ve been doing for the fall, and especially the special events that will be part of our commemoration of the 500th anniversary of the Reformation. But I want to save that for next month. The other thing that’s on my mind is my vacation next week. Helen, James, and I are driving out to Denver to visit Andrew and see the place where he has spent the past two years in graduate school, and particularly the natural wonders of that part of the world that were no small part in Andrew’s decision to study there rather than Washington, D.C., where most of his other prospective schools were located. But I’m not going to write about my vacation for the newsletter, especially before I’ve taken it! What is worth a few words, though, is the reality of being caught between the “already” and the “not yet,” something that we all experience in various ways in our daily lives, but something that also describes the nature of the life of faith in the here and now. For me, the events of this fall already need attention and planning and in some cases coordinating with other churches and venues. But the fall is still a month away, and I have some relaxing to do as well. I need to get away from the daily routine and spend some quality time with my family.
Jesus began his earthly ministry by announcing that the Kingdom of Heaven is near, and in the readings we’re right in the middle of now Jesus spends a lot of time talking about what the Kingdom of Heaven is. It’s like a mustard seed. It’s like yeast. It’s like a fishing net. It’s like a field of wheat and weeds. It’s like a treasure buried in field that someone sells his life savings to acquire. The Kingdom of Heaven, which you could also think of as the “reign of God,” is something that is unfolding in the life of the church throughout history and in our lives right now. It’s not just the place you go to when you die, though life beyond death is certainly part of what it entails. It is the redemption of God’s fallen creation – us included – and its transformation into the good creation that God has intended all along. And God is at work to bring that about, right here and right now in our community of faith at Grace, and in communities of faith throughout the world that are centered in the life-giving good news of God’s love and forgiveness in and through Jesus Christ. The Kingdom of God is already here, in our midst. And yet God is still working on it – and on us. The Kingdom of Heaven is not yet what God will ultimately make of it.
I’m finishing up this final draft of my newsletter article on the morning following the concert of the German youth choir Tookula held here at Grace. I hope you were in the audience for that. It was a very enjoyable evening. They sang songs from many different countries, and by composers from the Reformation to the present. The program including a jazzed up rendition of Martin Luther’s “A Mighty Fortress,” a German translation of a John Rutter piece, a Beach Boys medley, folk tunes from Finland, Latvia, and Ireland, and several American spirituals. One of the last songs they sang was “From a Distance.” The harmonies of the arrangement were lovely, and it was very well sung. But I’ve long thought the words of that song need some editing, particularly the refrain from which the title is taken: “God is watching us from a distance.” That thought strikes me as being at odds with a foundational affirmation of the Christian faith, the affirmation that bookends the gospel according to Matthew that we are reading this year, that God is not “out there” somewhere looking down on us, but rather that God is with us in Jesus Christ (that’s what Emmanuel means!) Jesus’ very last word in Matthew are “remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” My prayer is that we would live our lives and practice our faith as though Jesus really meant that. (Because I think he did!)
☩ Pastor Repp
