Below is my final newsletter article as the pastor of St. John’s Lutheran Church in Schuyler, published in our June 2023 newsletter. For those who have not heard, I have accepted a synod call to start doing transitional ministry and will be moving to Lincoln around the first of July!
It’s sad to be leaving St. John’s – they’re such a great congregation and I dearly love them. I do feel like this is the right move at the right time, made mostly for the sake of my mental health, but it’s never easy to say goodbye. That being said, I am really excited to be moving back to Lincoln; it’s a city I love, where I already have a great network of friends and colleagues. Transitions are challenging and overwhelming and stressful, but new adventures lie just over the horizon!
(Click here to read more detail in my letter to the congregation.)
When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
Acts 2:1-4, 32-33, 46-47
[Peter proclaimed to the crowds] “This Jesus God raised up, and of that all of us are witnesses. Being therefore exalted at the right hand of God and having received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this that you see and hear.”
Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.
My dad and I have had the same conversation about the long, green season after Pentecost so many times that it has almost become a liturgy unto itself. There are a few feast days we observe between Pentecost and Advent, but mainly it’s just a long sequence of Sundays after Pentecost that takes up around half the year – so Dad likes to joke that this must be because whoever designed the liturgical year just ran out of ideas.
I doubt it will shock you to learn that this is not, in fact, the “reason for the season,” to borrow a phrase.
The festival of Pentecost doesn’t get the same kind of hype that Christmas and Easter do, which is really kind of a shame, in a way. It is a major hinge of the church year because it is a massive turning point in the stories of scripture. From the first Sunday in Advent to the Ascension, the church year focuses on the life of Christ. Then at Pentecost, the Holy Spirit blows through the church with wind and flame, scattering the followers of Jesus to all corners of the earth to carry on his mission. And following this, the liturgical calendar shifts its focus from the life of Christ to the life of the church, which is now the body of Christ on earth.
The story of Christ incarnate as Jesus has been told; it is complete. The story of Christ incarnate as the church is still being written. We know the ups and downs, the fasts and feasts of the life of Jesus; so the half of the year that celebrates his life on earth is full of those celebrations. But for this half of the year that celebrates the life of the church, we just don’t know yet all the important highs and lows – because this story just isn’t done yet.
That’s why, for instance, we Lutherans celebrate the Reformation during this half of the year! And it’s the reason why you get so many Sundays after Pentecost – we don’t yet know the festivals that still lie in the church’s future.
If anything, this long and mostly unnamed season is a witness to the fact that God is very, very far from being out of ideas!
As I prepare to move forward into my next chapter, I am mindful that I leave you all standing right at the edge of this long, green season – at the edge of a new season whose contours and milestones are still a mystery. It’s the kind of uncertainty that can leave us feeling anxious and overwhelmed and even fearful about what’s to come. But I encourage you instead to lean into the perspective that your future – the future of St. John’s – is full of possibility. Your story is far from over. Indeed, it may well be that some of its best chapters are yet to come.
I am forever grateful for the ways our stories have intertwined, for the chapters we had the chance to write together. My story would not be complete without them. May the Spirit continue to blow through this place, stirring up your hearts in renewed commitment to service and witness, lighting up the path that will lead you into the future to which God is calling you.
May God bless you and keep you this day and always,
Pr. Day
First published in St. John’s June 2023 newsletter.