Creation-Crisis Preaching: Ecology, Theology and the Pulpit

By Leah D. Schade
Chalice Press
Available Summer 2015
Pre-order here:  http://www.chalicepress.com/Product.aspx?ProductId=1550&CategoryId=1

How can we proclaim justice for God’s Creation in the face of global warming? How does fracking fit with “the earth and its fullness are the Lord’s?” Creation-Crisis Preaching works with the premise that all of Creation, including humankind, needs to hear the Good News of Jesus’ resurrection in this age in which humanity is “crucifying” Creation. Informed by years of experience as an environmental activist and minister, Leah Schade equips preachers to interpret the Bible through a “green” lens, become rooted in environmental theology, and learn how to understand their preaching context in terms of the particular political, cultural, and biotic setting of their congregation. Creation-Crisis Preaching provides both theoretical grounding and practical tips for preachers to create environmental sermons that are relevant, courageous, creative, pastoral, and inspiring.

Clergy and lay preachers: This book is an equal blend of theory and practical application when it comes to environmental preaching. Drawing on social movement theory and the role of religion in environmental activism, the author offers an innovative approach to environmental preaching based on a deciduous tree’s yearly cycle:  “flowering/pollination” (consciousness-raising), “leafing” (calling for specific action); and “fruiting” (transforming lifestyles and culture for long-term, sustainable change).  Several sermons by the author are included throughout the book with detailed analysis to illustrate preaching that honestly and creatively names the reality of our ecologically “crucified” world, while emphasizing a hope-filled “eco-resurrection.”  The flowering-leafing-fruiting approaches to preaching about Creation are applicable to other justice issues as well.  The book would be useful for pastor study groups and continuing education classes for preachers.  Also, the book addresses the role of religious leaders in the public square, how to be a presence in local justice issues, and how to balance the prophetic and pastoral voice in their preaching and public witness.

Lay religious readers: Readers interested in connecting their faith with Creation-care will find theological, scriptural, and practical tools for addressing environmental justice issues in their lives and faith journeys.  The book could also be used as a seven-part study series with the help of the downloadable study guide.

Non-religious environmental activists: Non-religious environmental activists and advocates seeking to widen their base and make connections with people of faith will find this book helpful in providing insights as to what resonates with religious persons and activates them to take part in efforts to protect the environment.  Just as the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s relied heavily on churches, synagogues and people of faith to frame their cause as righteous and morally compelling, today we need a Green Civil Rights movement in which people of faith are engaged and seen as partners in the Great Transition to a non-fossil-fuel future where human beings reorient to a biocentric economy.  This book can help build a bridge between the two groups.

Ash Wednesday Sermon: Job’s Healing through God’s Creation

The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade
Texts: Job 2:1-8; Job 10:1-9; Job 19:23-27, 42:1-6

INTRO DURING ANNOUNCEMENTS: For this Ash Wednesday service, we have built the theme around readings from the book of Job. Job’s lament sitting among the ashes is very appropriate for this service. There is secular song written by the artist Joni Mitchell called “The Sire of Sorrow.” It is a beautiful song that captures the spirit of the book of Job, and we will be playing it during communion.

SERMON
“Why do bad things happen to good people?” There’s is a well-known book by that title. And it is a central question in the book of Job. From the opening chapters of the book of Job, the feeling you get about Job’s predicament is that it’s not fair. It’s not fair that Satan and God are allowed to place a gamble on his faith. It’s not fair that Job is allowed to be tested. It’s not fair that such a righteous man should lose everything - his wealth, his family, his health.

There is a whole middle section of the book of Job which we were not able to include in our readings today. It’s the discourse between Job and his so-called friends. After Job has been reduced to the ash heap, three men come to talk with him about his situation. In Joni Mitchell’s song she calls them the “Antagonists.” And that’s exactly what they do. They antagonize him, rub salt into his wounds, add insult to injury. They spout off all these pious dictums and self-righteous words that show they have no compassion for Job. They speak with an air of superiority, trying to convince Job that there must have been something he did to deserve this ill treatment.

But Job stands his ground. He knows that he did not bring on this suffering by anything of his own doing. And he insists he wants to speak directly with God to learn what he has done to deserve his suffering. If he could only talk with God, he reasons, he will understand what’s going on, why he’s made to suffer so.

And finally he gets his wish. God speaks to him out of a whirlwind, a hurricane, signifying the immensity of this encounter. But God’s answer is not what Job expected. Rather than explain what guilt Job has incurred to deserve such suffering, God takes the conversation in a completely different direction. God takes Job on a whirlwind tour of creation, showing him the overwhelming task of conjuring up the world in all its diversity of life forms, the staggering array of the cosmos and its creatures therein.
Essentially God says to Job, “Your suffering is not an issue of moral law; it’s not a question of guilt or sin, or anything you did or did not do to deserve what happened to you. Look, you’re going to have to trust me on this one. I’m God, and I know what I’m doing. Don’t let yourself be dragged into this self-doubt by the Antagonists. I created you. You’re going to be fine. Trust me.”

Finally, Job gets it. He answers God, “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. . . I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.” Actually, a closer reading of the Hebrew text at this point gives a slightly different translation: “I rid myself of dust and ashes.” In other words, he does as God advises, letting go of the tug-of-war with the Antagonists, getting up out of the ashes and moving on.

There is a deep humility in Job’s words. Seeing the breathtaking complexity of Creation has given Job a different perspective on God and his place in God’s world.  After having come through everything he endured, there is a settling into acceptance, an inner knowing that the God who created the world has you and me in God’s hands as well. And that whatever trials and tribulations we suffer, there will come a time of redemption, a time of restoration. In the story of Job this actually happens in his lifetime. All his fortunes are restored. He has more children than before and more wealth than he knows what to do with.

In a sense, you could call this a resurrection story. As Christians, we cannot help but look at the story of Job and draw comparisons to Jesus. We look to the person of Jesus, who certainly suffered as Job suffered, and more in his crucifixion. And like Job, he did not deserve it. He incurred no guilt. And, like Job, Jesus had his doubting moments, too. In the Garden of Gesthemane he wrestles with God, “If it can be, let this cup pass from me. Yet not my will, but thy will be done.” And then on the cross, he quotes this famous line from Psalm 22: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Like Job, Jesus is stripped of everything and tortured at the hands of men. And the self-righteous religious leaders gather at the foot of the cross like the antagonists to Job, uttering their pious words of judgement, showing no compassion.

And like Job, Jesus holds his ground. Not only that, but the ground holds him.  All of Earth bears witness – the trees lashed together into the cross, the rocks that shake and split, the sun that darkens, the air that receives his last breath.  And, of course, the tomb in the cave of the earth holds all of Jesus’ suffering, cradling it, like the manger cradled his infant form so many years ago. 

But on Easter morning as the tomb lies empty and the air stirs with the breath of one who was dead, these words from Chapter 19 in Job could just as well have been uttered by Jesus: “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth; and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.”

But I’m getting ahead of things. Easter morning is a long way off. Today, we’re still in the ash heap. Today we are beginning this journey that will have us questioning, doubting, battling with inner and outer demons. And the question is, how will we be with each other during this time of testing? Will we be like those Antagonists? Or can we find another way to relate to each other?

You can probably bring to mind several people in our congregation or in your own life right now who are enduring Job-like suffering. The serious illness or death of a family member or close friend, loss of self-confidence and identity when the job, the marriage, the friendship has crumbled. Like Job we question why God would allow this to happen.”

It’s difficult to sit with people who are in the ashes. It’s much easier to stand over them like the Antagonists, analyzing their situation, prescribing remedies based on some perceived deficiency in their personalities or actions. And there’s a good reason why we don’t like to join another in their suffering. If we decide to sit with another in the ash heap it means we have to face our own mortality. We have to recall the times when we suffered. Those are the times we would rather forget. It’s painful. It’s unsettling.

When you listen to this song by Joni Mitchell song you may say to yourself, “Oh this is so depressing.” And that’s true. It’s not easy to listen to this song and read the words.  A friend of mine and former music director at a church I once served was the one who shared Mitchell’s song with me.  She wrote: “At first, its directness in dealing with the harsh realities of Job is unsettling. Yet the music Joni Mitchell set these words to is haunting and beautiful. She gives no answers, no references to the saving grace of Christ. Her life has been difficult with polio, unhappy relationships, abortion and years of hardship to attain success in the music business. And even though she has achieved super stardom, she struggles with the shallowness that accompanies fame. Can this song give healing? I feel that it does. She makes Job everyman, yet also relates to him through her own struggles. Maybe this lack of answers combined with the knowledge that these sufferings are universal, will alleviate some of the isolation of those who are grieving.” (Furia, Linda, “A Hymn Study on the Book of Job,” unpublished paper, Sept. 4, 2001, pp. 11-12.)

And, that, I think is one of the keys to undertaking this Lenten journey together. Suffering, tragedy, loss and grief are all isolating experiences. The experience overwhelms you with feelings that make it seem as if you are the only one in the world who knows what it is to truly suffer. Like the song that Ellen sang earlier in the service as the ashes were marked on our foreheads: “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen.” And it’s true. Everyone’s pain is unique.

And yet, if you can find the heart and the courage within yourself to sit in the ashes with another who is suffering, you will find yourself connecting with another human being in the most profound way. And if you yourself are suffering, if you can allow yourself to come to a service like this, or really, any worship service, and join yourself to the community, there is something very healing in that process. And when we open ourselves up to the power of God’s holy Creation, observing the processes of life, the dizzying complexity, the astounding patterns and details from the heights of the stars to the depths of the tiniest sea creatures – we may gain new perspective on God, and on our place in God’s Creation.

So I invite you to sit with another in the ashes during this Lenten journey. And if you are feeling like Job, I invite you to bring your ash heap here among us and allow us to care for you while you are suffering. Because we are called to be a people of compassion. The Job in me recognizes the Job in you. We see our common humanity, we share in each other’s suffering.

And even as we sit in the ashes, we keep our eyes raised to the cross, knowing that Jesus has traveled this road before us. Nobody knows the trouble I seen. Nobody knows but Jesus. Indeed. The God of the ashes is the God of Creation is the God of the cross is the God of the resurrection. And we know that our God, our Redeemer, lives. Amen.

The Transfiguration: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade
Readings:  2 Kings 2:1-12 (Elijah and Elisha); Mark 9:2-9 (The Transfiguration)

On Friday evening my daughter and I watched a movie called Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, based on the book of the same name by Jonathan Safran Foer.  The story centers around a boy named Oskar Schell whose father died in the September 11 attacks on the World Trade Center in New York City.  That happened nearly 14 years ago -- what Oskar called “the worst day.”  It was perhaps the most traumatic event to happen in our country, as we watched the Towers collapse and more than 2000 people die.

 

The movie is very emotionally intense, and I would not recommend it for young children.  But I can tell you that Oskar was very close to his dad and loved him very much.  His dad used to create elaborate expeditions for him to find objects throughout the city.  After his father died, Oskar found a key in a vase in his father’s closet with the name “Black” written on the envelope.  The rest of the movie is about Oskar’s quest to contact every person with the last name of Black in the city of New York to find the lock which the key will open.  The movie flashes back to Oskar’s wonderful memories of his father as well as the terror of the day his world came crashing down around him.  Oskar’s quest to find the lock for the key is his attempt to make sense of what has happened and keep some kind of connection to his father. 

We had another story in our readings today about someone losing a man who was very close to him, almost like a father.  It is the story of Elisha whose teacher Elijah was taken away in a chariot of fire, leaving Elisha to carry on without him. 

Elisha had followed his master from the moment they met, when Elisha was a young man, plowing his father's field.  He was completely devoted to Elijah, as we saw in our skit.  When Elijah wanted his young student to stay behind as he was coming to the end of his earthly journey, Elisha refused.  He insisted on accompanying his master to the very end.  And he makes a bold request of his master – to receive a double share of his spirit.  Elijah tells him that if he can see him being taken up into heaven – if he can withstand the pain of that vision – then he will indeed receive Elijah’s spirit.  And sure enough, after he watched his master swept up into heaven by the chariots of fire, he is able to perform miracles and spread God’s word even more powerfully than Elijah.

The other story we heard today was about another amazing experience – Jesus taking some of his disciples up on a mountain so that they could catch a glimpse of who he really was – the Son of God.  The disciples don’t know it then, but they will not have their teacher with them for much longer.  After they come down from the mountain they will be starting on the journey to Jerusalem and, finally, to Jesus’ death at Calvary on the cross.  It will be what Oskar would call “the worst day,” when their world will come crashing down around them. 

But at this moment they are caught up in the sheer amazement of what and who they see.  Elijah – the prophet of old, along with Moses – the giver of the Law, join Jesus there on the mountaintop.  And then a cloud overshadows them and they hear the voice of Jesus’ heavenly father – extremely loud and incredibly close: “This is my son, the Beloved.  Listen to him.”  It’s that voice which will echo in their minds much later as they watch their beloved teacher writhing in unimaginable pain on the cross.  Perhaps even Jesus hears that voice in his memory as he is feeling forsaken and abandoned by his heavenly father.  That memory would be both a comfort and distressing to him.

Oskar, too, had a memory of his father’s voice that was both comforting and distressing at the same time.  When his father was still in the Tower, he called home and tried to speak with his son.  But he was only able to leave a series of messages on the answering machine.  For over a year his son replayed the recordings of his father’s anguished voice, the sound reminding him how much he loved the sound of his father’s voice, but also reminding him how much he missed him.

Maybe you know a little of how Oskar felt.  When we lose someone we love, it feels like our world comes crashing down around us.  We don’t know how we are going to go on without them.  The feelings of grief, anger and sadness can become unbearable.  And sometimes it’s not until we are on our quest for a long time that we find the peace and connection we were looking for. 

Elisha was fortunate in a way – he was able to tap into his master’s spirit nearly immediately.  He was able to carry on his work and step into his new role as a true prophet, no longer an apprentice.  The disciples were also able to tap into their master’s spirit.  In fact, Jesus made sure of it.  By breathing on them after the resurrection, and later by sending the Holy Spirit to them in wind and fire, they were able to step into their new role, no longer disciples (meaning students), but apostles (meaning “sent ones”), doing the work that Jesus had been teaching them to do.

Oskar, too, has his father’s spirit, although at first he doesn’t realize it.  Even as he is grieving, he boldly approaches every person with the last name of “Black” on his list and he meets over 200 people who share with him their own stories of pain and loss.  By the end of the movie, Oskar is able to overcome some of his worst fears and find his father’s power within himself. I won’t spoil the ending, but there is a final amazing moment in the movie where Oskar’s spirit soars, like a phoenix rising out of the ashes of grief.

Each of us is at a different place in our journey.  Some of you are very young and may have not yet experienced the death of someone you love.  I will tell you something my daughter shared with me she learned from watching the movie – to tell your parent or grandparent or teacher or whoever it is that is important to you – tell them that you love them and why they mean so much to you.  And remember when you do eventually lose someone you love – their spirit never leaves you.  It may take a while to discover how and where that spirit is within you, but Jesus has promised to accompany you on that journey.  You will not be left to be on your journey alone.

Oskar found this out in surprising ways.  All during his quest he is being followed, watched, cared for by someone who loves him very much, even though he doesn’t know it until the end.  And along the way he is accompanied by a surprising person who comes into his life and helps him find his way.

Elisha, the disciples, Oskar . . . and you.  Your quest lies ahead of you.  You have been given a key, and as you seek the lock for which it fits, you will find yourself unlocking moments of grace along the way.  And remember – Jesus goes ahead of you, preparing the way for you, never abandoning you, always accompanying you.  Even though we cannot see him, his spirit is with us, his life and his love are with us.  They are as close as the bread in our hand, the wine on our lips.  May God bless you on your journey.  Amen.

 



 

It All Belongs to God - Joseph as a Model of Stewardship

The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade
Genesis 41:25-49; Psalm 24:1-6; Luke 12:32-40

 

Think about all the keys you have – car keys, house key, keys to your safe, your toolbox.  Having a key gives you access, it indicates ownership.  Or at least that someone has entrusted you with access to this thing of value.  If I’ve got a car key, the car must be mine.  House key? The house is mine.

In this part of the story about Joseph in Genesis, we see that this former underdog, former slave, former prisoner, has essentially been given the keys to the kingdom.  He was able to correctly interpret Pharaoh’s dreams and understand the message that after seven years of bountiful harvests, the land would suffer seven years of drought and famine.

With this information, Joseph offers to steward the country’s harvests in order to save enough for the drought.  Pharaoh puts him in charge, gives him all the keys to their storehouses which become full under Joseph’s guidance.  And when the lean years befall them, they have just enough to get them through. 

Do you know what the word “steward” means?  It means the “sty warden” - the keeper of the pig sty!  The person in charge of the animals and the silos and the granaries was entrusted with carefully overseeing the operations of the farm.  And that person was ultimately answerable to the owner of the estate.  The steward knows that what has been entrusted to him is not a gift – he cannot just do with the pigs and crops whatever he wants.  It all belongs to the owner to whom he is accountable.

Joseph models for us what it means to be a good steward.  He knew that the harvests he was overseeing were not his to do with whatever he wished.  It all belongs to God, and God holds him accountable for how he manages what has been entrusted to him.

Now Joseph could have used the knowledge he had to save his own skin.  He could have tried to fool Pharaoh and used his gift and knowledge for his own personal gain.  He could have rationalized feathering his own nest by saying something like, “Hey, God gave me these gifts of interpreting dreams and excellent management and leadership skills.  I can do with them whatever I want.  They’re mine.”

But Joseph knows that’s simply not true.  His talents are not a gift for him to do with whatever he wants.  They are temporarily entrusted to him, but ultimately all that he has – his skills, his talents, his newfound leadership position – it all belongs to God.

This is an important fact for us to realize when it comes to our own stewardship.  I recently heard a presentation by Chick Lane who spoke to the pastors of our synod about stewardship and leadership.  He said something that really took me by surprise:  God doesn’t give gifts.  Giving a gift is a transfer of ownership.  If I give you a five-dollar bill and say it is a gift, then you will understandably reason that you can do with it whatever you want.

But that’s now how it works with God.  Whatever you have, it all still belongs to God.  God owns this money.  God owns your house, your skills, your job, your car.  God owns the land, the water, the air, the entire earth, as the Psalmist says: “The Earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it” (Psalm 24:1).  You are merely the steward of what has been entrusted to you for a short time.  And you are answerable for what you do with it.  You are accountable to the owner.

Now we can use what we have to benefit only ourselves or our immediate families.  We can use our talents and skills and jobs and money for our own personal gain.  And we can rationalize feathering our own nests by saying something like, “Hey, God gave me these gifts of the labor of my hands, and the sweat of my brow, and the skills and talents I have.  I can do with them whatever I want.  They’re mine.”  We can rationalize polluting and stripping God’s Creation, filling the atmosphere with carbon-dioxide from our fossil fuels, and destroying the natural habitats of God’s creatures.  We can say, “Hey, the Bible says God gave us all of this.  We can do whatever we want to them.  They belong to us.”

But as Christians, we know that’s simply not true.  Our talents and skills and paychecks and the Creation around us are not a gift from God for us to do with whatever we want.  They are temporarily entrusted to us.  Ultimately all that we have – it all belongs to God.

Jesus understood that as well.  We heard these oft-quoted words of Jesus in our reading from Luke:  Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.  Notice he didn’t say, where your heart is, your treasure will be also.  It’s where your treasure is that determines your heart.  Because your money has the ability to take our heart along with it. 

 

Just look at where you spend most of your money (or where most of your debt is owed).  Whatever gets the bulk of your funds is what you value the most.  For some, their hearts belong to their house, because that’s what gets the most of their funds.  For others, it’s their education.  And sometimes our hearts go to things that are not quite so positive.  Like casinos.  Or some other addiction that takes your heart and your money.

We can rationalize where our money goes, justifying our spending by insisting that it’s our money and we can do with it what we want.  But here’s the thing:  if you want your heart to get closer to Jesus, closer to God, then put your money there.  That’s what Joseph did.  All that he did was with the understanding that God is the one who entrusted him this life he was living, his dreams, his gift of interpretation, and his leadership skills.  And the more he gave to God, the more God moved him into positions where he was entrusted with greater and greater responsibilities. 

Like Joseph, you have also been given an important role by God.  You have been given great responsibilities.  God thinks so highly of you that God has chosen to entrust some of what God owns into your care.  So how will you steward this trust?

John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist church, had this instruction for how to steward money:

               Gain all you can without hurting others.

               Save all you can without hurting others.

               Give all you can without hurting others.

In other words, it’s not at all bad to earn income from a job, or from investments – as long as that job or those investments do not hurt other people or the Creation of God’s earth.

And, like Joseph, save all you can without depriving yourself or your family or your church of what’s needed to live in the present time.  For example, it’s good to save for retirement and to put aside money for an item or a trip that you are looking forward to.  But do not hold back so much that it impinges on your ability to be generous with your church or with people in need today.

And, as Joseph did, give all you can.  Next week we’ll come to the end of the story of Joseph when his brothers come to him from their famine-inflicted land of Canaan, desperate for food.  Joseph could have withheld the resources in his control, and his heart would have followed.  He could have withheld any food from them as punishment for what they did to him so many years ago.  His heart would have gone to revenge.    But he recognized that even the bad things that happened to him were up to him to steward in a way that served God.  The same goes for us – even when you suffer betrayal, loss or any negative thing – it’s up to us to steward even the bad things that happen to us in a way that honors God.  With Joseph, he gave freely to his brothers, and his heart followed. Yes, he struggled with testing them.  But in the end, rather than have resentment in his heart, he let forgiveness rule his heart. 

On Tuesday the ELCA Director of Stewardship, Keith Mundy, visited our congregation and spoke to our council and some members who joined us for the meeting.  He shared with us much thought-provoking information which you’ll be hearing more about in the coming weeks and months.  But one set of questions he asked really struck me as being pertinent to this story about Joseph:

“Don’t just ask, ‘How are we stewards of money?’ Ask: How are we stewards of our careers?  Our education?  Our retirement?  How are we stewards of our relationships in this congregation?”  In what ways are you and your spouse and your children trying to grow in your giving based on how God has blessed you?  If the biblical standard is to return a tithe to God – meaning to give 10% of what has been entrusted to you back to the church or some other charitable organization that serves those in need – then how can we tithe our jobs?  Our schooling?  Our time in retirement?  How can we tithe what we do in this congregation so that it goes outside of our four walls?

These are questions that I hope will start a conversation in our church.  I hope that Joseph’s story will not end when you walk out to the parking lot today.  I hope this question about stewardship walks with you out to your car and nudges you when you go to work.  I hope the question sits next to you at the kitchen table when you are writing your checks for the month.  I hope the question sidles up to you when you are filling in the white spaces of your calendar. 

I know for a fact that you’ve let the question stand next to you in the grocery store and as you stood looking at your kitchen pantry.  Because look at all we have gathered into the storehouses today with Souper Bowl Sunday!  Not only did virtually every one of you give a portion from your storehouse, but nine of you gave a portion of your time yesterday morning, braving the sub-freezing temperatures to go through West Milton and collect the food bags that the community put out for us to bring here today. Like Joseph directing the workers, Annette and Mike and the Social Ministry Committee have been leading the charge to gather in food that will be needed by those who are experiencing their own famines, right in their own households.   

Ellen McCormick and The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade in face paint for Souper Bowl Sunday 2015.

Members of United in Christ Lutheran Church collected over 500 food items for food banks and $130 for a local community meal program as part of the 2015 Souper Bowl of Caring

You see, God has already given us the vision of plenty.  We have followed that vision, heeding God’s word.  We stewarded ourselves and our finances and our time and our talents in a way that have resulted in having just enough – not just for ourselves, but with our community.  We know it all belongs to God, and we can trust God to make sure that our needs are met when we align ourselves with the values of generosity and gratitude modeled for us by Joseph and, generations later, by Jesus.

God has given me a lot of keys.  I’m praying that God gives me the most important key of all – the one that unlocks my mind from fear to let in trust.  The key that unlocks my heart from self-centeredness to be open to generosity.  In the end, I know that all these keys - which represent all that I am and everything I temporarily own – it all belongs to God.  I give thanks for these keys.  And I give thanks that God is right now fashioning a key of faith just for you and for me.  Amen.