Lutheranism - The Good, The Bad, and the Grace

Sermon for Reformation Sunday

The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade, PhD

United in Christ Lutheran Church, Lewisburg, PA

Oct. 26, 2014

Some of us have been Lutheran since the day we were baptized.  Some became Lutheran later in life or have just recently become Lutheran.  But even if you are not Lutheran, every one of us has had our lives shaped by the hand of Martin Luther and his legacy, which we celebrate today.  Let me explain.
 

Today we commemorate the courageous act of Martin Luther, who, nearly 500 years ago, took a stand against the abusive powers of the church and began what became known as the Reformation.  He wanted to reform the church, to bring it back into alignment with the intentions of God and the principles of the Bible.  In 1517 at the church door of Wittenburg, Germany, a young monk stood nailing his 95 Theses into the splintering wood, an act that would splinter the entire stronghold of the religious authorities and start the Protestant movement that still exists to this day. 

Even if you are not a Lutheran, your life has been shaped by the legacy of Martin Luther. 

* The notion of civil rights can be traced back to Luther, and it is no small thing that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. received his namesake from the German monk who stood up against the powers and fought for the value of every human soul. 

* Martin Luther also believed that girls should be educated just as much as boys, an idea that eventually contributed to the women's rights movement (though, admittedly, Luther was by no means a "feminist" in the modern sense of the word). 

* The wave of immigrants into America seeking freedom from religious persecution in Europe all goes back to the Protestant movement and its aftermath.   

* The notion that individuals can and should read the Bible for themselves and encounter the living God through those words goes back to Luther, who was the first to translate the Bible from ancient languages into the common tongue. 

And, sadly, World War II can, in part, be traced to Martin Luther.  For while he did many positive things, he also said many negative words about the Jewish people.  Those words eventually helped fuel Nazi ideology in Germany.
 

Lutherans also persecuted the Anabaptists, or what we know as the Mennonites.  In this area of Pennsylvania we see lots of our Amish and Mennonite neighbors and work alongside them or purchase their goods.  But there was a time when Lutherans so disagreed with their theology and religious notions that we pursued them and killed them.  And so we, as Lutherans, have had to be honest about these darker aspects of our heritage and to apologize and make amends for it.

You probably didn’t know that part about how Lutherans treated Anabaptists or Jews, did you?  But you also may not be aware of the way in which Lutheranism has shaped lives in a positive way, far beyond its German, European roots.  Lutherans in America have a long history of reaching out to immigrants and helping them to get settled in their new country.  Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services have helped thousands of foreign people lost, alone and without any assistance in this country.  For example, the church I served in Media, PA, once took in a family from one of the former Soviet republics.  They arranged for furniture for their home, stocked their kitchen, helped enroll the children in school, and helped to find the father a job.  All with a family who spoke not a word of English when they arrived.  They weren’t even Christian, let alone Lutheran.  They were Muslim.  But that didn’t matter.  The church responded to the call to help and today the family is thriving in their new home.

I recently read a story called “Drifting Toward Hope,” in Parade, the Sunday insert in the newspaper, about a man named Vinh Chung and his family who were refugees from Vietnam more than 30 years ago.  He tells about escaping Vietnam after the Viet Cong took his family’s rice milling business and forced them to live in poverty.  His parents and seven siblings – ten of them in all - set out on a decrepit fishing boat in 1979 with about 83 others, and they got lost on the South China Sea.  For five days they drifted without food or water and were beginning to contemplate suicide.  Then a World Vision aid ship spotted them and rescued them from certain death.  They were eventually brought to Fort Smith, Arkansas, where a Lutheran church sponsored his family’s move to the United States.

  
Though they had no possessions and could speak no English, the church helped them to get settled in their new country, their new community, and helped to find employment for his father in a fiberglass factory.  Vinh says that his time was divided between school, work and church.  “Work gave me discipline and kept me out of trouble; church gave me community and a strong faith,” he recalls.  “My siblings and I walked a path two inches wide and 18 years long, but it turned out to be a good one.”  Today he and his siblings hold a total of six doctorates and five master’s degrees from schools such as Harvard, Yale, Georgetown, and other prestigious Universities. 

Eventually Vinh had an opportunity to go back to Vietnam to visit relatives who remained.  He was shocked by the poverty.  They live in shacks with barely any furniture and hardly enough resources to eke out a living. 

Then, in the article, he quotes a passage from the Gospel of Luke where Jesus says:  “When someone has been given much, much will be required in return; and when someone has been entrusted with much, even more will be required” (12:48 NLT).  He said, “I used to wonder who Jesus meant, because I sure didn’t think it was my family.  The way I saw it, we had been given nothing, entrusted with nothing.  I hoped that rich and powerful people would read Jesus’ words and take them to heart.  But when I went to Vietnam, I finally understood:  He meant me.  I was the one plucked from the South China Sea.  I was the one granted asylum in a nation where education is available to everyone, and prosperity is attainable for anyone.  I worked hard to get where I am today, but the humbling truth is that my hard work was possible because of a blessing I did nothing to deserve.  And that blessing is something I must pass on, in any way I can.”

You can hear Vinh’s Lutheran upbringing in his words.  A blessing you did nothing to deserve?  That’s what Lutherans call grace.  It actually flies in the face of the American truism we all hold so dear – the notion that you pull yourself up by your bootstraps and become a self-made man or woman.  The idea that we are each independent operators functioning solely on our own merit.  That mindset is strongly embedded in each of us and it does have a positive function of encouraging personal responsibility and accountability.  But it is only partially correct and ignores a more fundamental truth. Yes, we work hard.  But we are where we stand today and the good life we enjoy is because of a blessing we did nothing to deserve.  You might not have been plucked from a refugee boat and saved from certain death. But the very family you were born into, the very society that existed before you were born, these rolling and rich soil your family has farmed for generations, the very body and skin you were born into – none of that was due to any work on your part.  You are living off of the hard work and sacrifice of hundreds of people who came before you.  You did nothing to deserve it.  

And what is more, the very air you breathe, the clean water you drink, the animals and plants that feed you, the land upon which you home is situated – none of that was created by you.  You did nothing to deserve this Earth that God created.  There is nothing you can do to earn God’s love and care for you.  It simply exists not because of who you are, but because that is who God is.  That is called grace.

Of course, what you do with that blessing is in your hands.  The first and foremost response for me is to feel gratitude.  I am profoundly and humbly grateful to have received these blessings.  And I have to take time every day when I wake up, every time I sit down to a meal, every time I receive a paycheck, every time I walk in God’s creation, and . . . even every time I am ready to rattle off a list of complaints about the life I live.  First I must stop and give thanks that I even have a life to complain about.  Giving thanks puts things into the proper perspective.  Not just during a commercialized holiday next month, but every day, several times a day, I need to slow down and exist in a state of gratitude.

And then, yes, I need to work diligently to make the most of what has been entrusted to me.  Like one of the servants given a share of resources in Jesus’ parable of the talents, I am being held accountable for the treasure that I have been given to steward, knowing that it was not mine to begin with, nor will it be mine to keep forever.  It all belongs to God, and I want to be able to hear those words:  Well done, good and faithful servant. 

That means if you are a student in school, you do your best and work diligently to learn all you can, to use your brain and body in the best way possible, because God has entrusted them to you.  And if you are working at a job, you do your best and work diligently and with the utmost integrity to use your brain and body in the best way possible, because God has entrusted them to you.  If you are raising children, you do your best and work diligently to keep them fed and clothed and housed and healthy.  You treat them with respect, even if they make you angry.  Because they are God’s, not yours, and you must treat them as God’s treasures entrusted to you.

And if you no longer work full time or raise children full time, do not think that your days of accountability are over.  You are still called on to do your best and work diligently at whatever your brain and body will still allow you to do.  Maybe that is serving here at the church, or visiting a sick friend, or making something for someone, or sitting down with your prayer list and lifting those people to God. 

No matter what your age or occupation or state of health or geographic location, you are each called to be a servant of God in your circle of life.  That’s what Luther called the priesthood of all believers.  In God’s eyes, no one is more privileged than another to receive the grace God has for us.  There is no hierarchy of merit or salvation.  All are equally covered by the same blanket of grace, and all are equally expected to minister to others under that blanket. 

And we are called to pass on that blessing to others.  Today, Vinh serves on World Vision’s Board of Directors, and his book, Where the Wind Leads, has been published.  The blessings bestowed on him, through no merit of his own, he is passing on to others.

What are you doing to pass on that blessing to others?  I see the answer to that question every day that I come to work.  I see the sewing group busy making blankets that will go out to refugees around the world.  I see volunteers at our OAKs monthly senior center welcoming older folks in our area who look forward to learning and laughing and eating together. 

I see youth preparing to serve a spaghetti supper to raise money to go to Detroit next summer to do God’s work with their hands. 

I see a member of the Rich Huff fund going out to purchase clothes for a child in need in our area.  I see donated food in our narthex that will be taken to Hand Up or Mazeppa Manna to feed our hungry neighbors. 

I see people signing up to help serve a meal at St. Andrew’s next month.  The list just goes on and on. 

We did nothing to deserve the grace that has been bestowed on us.  And we do everything to express our gratitude and pass on the blessing to others.  Thanks be to God for a man whose hands helped change the world.  Thanks be to God for your hands that are continuing to serve and change the world today. 

 

And thanks be to God for the One who touched Luther’s life, and yours and mine – Jesus Christ, showing us what it means to give ourselves fully to God, trusting that grace and mercy for ourselves and the world.  Amen.   

Source:  Parade, August 10, 2014

 

Hagar and Ishmael – Racism Cries Out to be Seen and Heard

ECOPREACHER IS NOW ON PATHEOS.COM!

You can link to this article here: 

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/ecopreacher/2017/06/preaching-hagar-ishmael-philando/ 

"Crocodile Rock" for Blessing the Animals Sunday

CROCODILE ROCK (by Elton John, lyrics revised by Leah Schade)

Our praise band rocked out on this tune for our Youth Sunday/Blessing of the Animals.

Long ago when the earth was young
Eve and Adam had so much fun
Holding hands and skimming stones
Living in Eden in their garden home
But the biggest kick they ever got
Was doing a thing called the Crocodile Rock
While the animals were Rocking Round the Clock
They were hopping & bopping to the Crocodile Rock

Well Crocodile Rocking is something shocking
When your feet just can't keep still
They never knew them a better time

and I guess they never will
Mama mama, those Friday nights
When Eve she wore her fig leaves tight
And the Crocodile Rocking was out of sight

La lalalala la lalalala la lalalala la

But the years went by and the rock just died
They ate forbidden fruit and had to say goodbye
Sent away from Eden by the cherubim
Dreaming of the garden and that beautiful scene
But we’ll never lose the beat we've got
We’ll keep dancin’ to the Crocodile Rock
We remember as the years go past
The dance of the animals will always last

Well Crocodile Rocking is something shocking
When your feet just can't keep still
They never knew them a better time

and I guess they never will
Mama mama, those Friday nights
When Eve she wore her fig leaves tight
And the Crocodile Rocking was out of sight

La lalalala la lalalala la lalalala la 

(REPEAT VERSE ONE AND CHORUS)

Preaching Environmental Justice in "The Purple Zone”

The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade, PhD

Krost Symposium, Texas Lutheran University

Sept. 3, 2014

The Krost Symposium is TLU’s premier yearly academic event. This year’s theme, “Environmental Justice: Texas Responses to Global Crises,” explores exactly what environmental justice is and how we can work together to solve current issues that will impact future generations.  The following is my presentation at their opening worship for the kick-off of this series.  The video can be found here and the 10-minute presentation starts at minute 6:00: 

I want to thank Tim Barr and Texas Lutheran University for inviting me to be part of this important series of speakers in the Krost Symposium addressing the topic of environmental justice.  It is an honor to begin this series and to be counted among some of the most prominent figures undertaking the task of addressing the relationship between people, Earth and its other-than-human beings, and, for those of us with a religious persuasion, our relationship with the Divine Creator.  

There is always a risk that when we focus on an area of justice, someone is going to get their gander up, so to speak.  You could have chosen a less controversial topic, but you have courageously decided to enter into what I believe is the most vital question of our time:  how will we live if we destroy the very planet and biotic community that enables our lives?  Stated in a positive way, how can we live in a way that ensures the just and right relationships between humans, Earth, and those most vulnerable?

Let’s take a moment to talk about why people get so contentious when talking about environmental justice issues?  There is much at stake: incredible amounts of wealth, questions of power and equality, personal and community identity, the ecological conditions that support life itself, and the very real persons (human and otherwise) affected by these issues all have a stake in our conversations, decisions, policies and actions.  Because of this intense and complex overlaying of competing interests, we find ourselves, in Jesus’ words, “a house divided against itself” (Matthew 12:25).  And, indeed, the oikos – meaning “house” in Greek – the oikos of earth is crumbling, flooding, and burning all around us.  Some of us may have enough temporary wealth, power and privilege to shore ourselves in little enclaves longer than our poorer sisters and brothers.  But the frantic grasps to protect this illusory wealth only hasten the speed at which the ensuing ecological domino effect will collapse the collective house of this planet.

 

Thus it is imperative that we find ways to talk effectively and respectfully with each other in order to address these issues.  A central question for me in my work as a pastor and scholar who is also an environmental activist is:  How do we listen to each other across increasingly hostile divides of red/blue politics, race, class, geography, culture, and religion?  For example – is Texas considered a Red or Blue state?  (Red).  And do you know what Pennsylvania is considered?  Blue.  But I can tell you where I am in Central PA it’s probably closer to Texas in many ways. 

As a pastor I ask, how can we preach environmental justice in what I call “The Purple Zone”?  Because, as I have come to learn, when we enter the dialogue with a commitment to process and trust in God’s guidance, we find that the divides themselves are also illusions.  None of us really lives in a “red” or “blue” state.  In fact, those colors run together in our families, our houses of worship, our schools, and even within our own hearts and minds.  Our job, then, is to find a way to courageously step into the “Purple Zone” and speak a word that casts out demons and stands with Jesus and all those who gather, not scatter. 

In these next few minutes I want to share some insights that I have gleaned from my work as a community organizer and from my work on a bipartisan synod task force on fracking.  These are also lessons I’ve learned from 14 years of preaching about justice issues in the pulpit in congregations that have a wide range of political, economic, cultural, and personal stances on issues.  My goal is to offer some insights for the conversations that will follow in my next session about fracking, and that can be helpful for all of you over the course of the symposium these next several weeks.

I’ll use the synod task force on fracking as a case study.  On the recommendation that group, the Upper Susquehanna Synod Assembly of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America voted in June to call for all environmental and public health exemptions on shale gas and oil drilling and its related processes to be repealed and all processes related to shale gas and oil extraction and processing to be subject to the Safe Drinking Water Act (1974), the Clean Air Act (1990) and Clean Water Act (1972). 

The task force was created as a result of action taken at the Synod’s 2012 assembly directing the group to undertake a comprehensive assessment of the justice issues surrounding the natural gas industry.  The resolution came as a result of two years’ worth of research, field work, and discussion by a diverse group of individuals, appointed by The Rev. Bishop Robert L. Driesen, representing opposing viewpoints on the issue of hydro-fracking.

Our task force was made up of scientists, professors, pastors, teachers, and lay leaders in the church, including individuals who actually work in the shale gas industry or are supportive of it.  Some of us would like to see a total ban on fracking.  Others think it can be done safely with proper regulation.  The fact that we were able to come to the table and engage in civil, bipartisan moral deliberation about this issue and offer a recommendation for the larger church is very important. At the very least we could agree that the so-called “Halliburton Loopholes” created for the industry exempting it from the established laws protecting our water, air and public health are unjust and need to be repealed. 

So how did we get to that point of being able to agree on these recommendations?  I will be honest – it was not easy.  In fact, it was probably one of the most difficult groups I’ve ever worked with.  The process was messy, tense and frustrating at certain points.  But there were some key principles and moments that kept us from giving up, and directed us toward the task at hand.

First, all of us made an effort to understand where each of us was coming from in our positions, and to share our story of why we had come to believe what we did.  This enabled us to respect each other as people with families, livelihoods, communities, and deeply held convictions.  This meant that we had to actually listen to each other.  This, in turn, enabled us to move beyond negative generalizations and stereotypes about the side we disagreed with. 

Second, even though we might have initially mistrusted each other, we trusted the process of the church that brought us together, and were committed to that process.  Our bishop did a good job of choosing people from different stances on the issue so that no one could look at the result of our work and accuse us of being biased one way or another.  And because we were a church group, there was always prayer at our meetings.  I am convinced that sometimes the only thing that kept our group from breaking apart was the presence of the Holy Spirit somehow holding together whatever tenuous strands there were.

Third, we did our homework.  Each of us chose a particular area to research, went after it with diligence, and brought it to the group for discussion and debate.  In addition, each person had a key part to play in the overall task, so we were invested in the process. 

Finally, after months of throwing around skeins of data, wrestling with various interpretations, and debating the veracity of different claims, what finally allowed us to settle in and do real work together was finding common ground.  Or in this case, common water.  In fact, the only thing we could all agree on was that water needed to be protected, whether you were in favor of fracking or not.  So we were all able to say that the Halliburton Loopholes are not good for anyone.  The only prudent thing to do is to close the loopholes and subject the industry to the same regulations everyone else must answer to.  It is a basic question of fairness. 

So – if we could pull off something like this in Pennsylvania, you can certainly undertake this process in Texas.  By listening to each other’s stories, respecting each other, doing your homework, trusting and being committed to the process, and finding common values, it is possible, with the help of the Holy Spirit, to bring people together across ideological lines to engage in robust ethical debate about controversial issues and arrive at some consensus for the common good.

May God bless each of you as you enter this process so that you may maintain positive relationships with each other, speak a prophetic word of truth, and emphasize God’s creative, hope-filled and redeeming activity in our world.

Border Children: Like Moses on Mt. Nebo, Longing for the Promised Land

As most of you know, we are in the midst of a sermon series on mountains in the Bible.  Today we are on Mt. Nebo, also called Pisgah, where Moses stands wistfully looking out over the Promised Land, knowing that this is as close as he'll ever get to it before he dies.  It is a bittersweet moment.  You can't help but be filled with pathos, imagining this great leader of Israel standing alone on the mountain, the presence of the Lord surrounding him, the wind gently blowing his long, white beard, listening to the silence as he gazes across the vista. 

 

If you've ever been to the top of a mountain, you know the feeling.  You are aware that you're as high as you'll ever be, granted a view of the surrounding landscape that fills you with feelings of majesty and awe.  And yet there is a sadness, knowing that you can't stay on the mountaintop forever.  Eventually, you have to come down.  The clean air, the stunning view, the feeling of being so close to heaven - it will all be just a memory once you're back on level ground.  And for Moses, when he leaves this mountaintop, he knows he's going to his death.  He must have lingered there many hours before the voice finally said, "Come on, Moses - it's time to go."  And heaving a heavy sigh, he tears his eyes away from this last, best view and begins his descent down the mountain.       

What makes this last scene especially heartbreaking is that Moses knows that after all those years of wandering in the wilderness, he will never actually step foot into the Promised Land.  After bringing his people out of slavery in Egypt, after enduring the hardships of the wilderness, after putting up with the complaining and whining and near-revolts of the people, his final hope will never be realized.  And it’s all because of one mistake, one instance of faithlessness, that results in Moses coming away from Mt. Nebo with only a distant view of the land of milk and honey. 

Have you ever worked so hard for something, endured so much, withstood so many hardships, only to be turned away just when you thought you were about to reap the reward for your labor?  The heartbreak can be crushing, especially when it appears that God is either punishing you for your mistakes, or simply is not following through on the promise you thought had been made.  Perhaps you have stood on your own Mt. Nebo, gazing wistfully in the distance at what you thought was your destination, only to learn that, in fact, you will never actually get there.

 

Many of you have heard about the refugee crisis on the southern border of the United States, where tens of thousands of children from Central America have flooded facilities seeking asylum.  Many people think that the children are sneaking in illegally or trying to bring in drugs, when in fact, they have presented themselves to border patrols as asylum-seekers, and, thus, are in the country legally.  The rhetoric about the situation is getting heated and hateful. But the facts are:  these are children, they are without their parents, they are lost and alone and afraid.  And for many of them, they are standing like Moses on Mt. Nebo, wistfully viewing a land of safety from afar, but never actually being able to enter.

 

Bishop Michael Rinehart of the Gulf Coast Synod visited the transition centers and talked with the children, with volunteers, border patrol and lawyers. He explains in his blog that violence in Central America is on the rise. Poverty leads to desperate measures. Honduras has the highest murder rate in the world. 

One of the young boys, age 13, was told by the gangs that he had to join or be murdered. “He refused and they beat him nearly to death. A year later they came back again with the same demand. After refusing they ran him over with a car. His mother gave him $30 and told him to go north.  Hitchhiking on trains he made it to Mexico, where he was kidnapped and held for ransom. Escaping, he crossed the river and was picked up by US Border Patrol. He was treated poorly in a harsh detention facility until the local sheriff stepped in. In time he was settled with a foster family, but after a month he was picked up by immigration.” Now he is behind bars, waiting either for another foster family to take him in, or to be sent back to the gangs in his homeland.  http://bishopmike.com/2014/07/18/a-visit-with-children-at-the-border/

Like Moses on Mt. Nebo, this young boy, and the rest of the children at the border, was fleeing violence and oppression in a land where they were treated as nothing more than slaves for gangs.  Like the Israelites who had fled from the violence and slavery in Egypt, they journeyed through the wilderness and all its many dangers, hoping against hope that they will make it to the Promised Land of our country where they will be safe.  But so many of them will be turned away by a nation fearful of them and what people think they bring with them – disease, drugs, laziness, unwillingness to learn the English language, another mouth to feed and take advantage of the system. They, like Moses, will come away from Mt. Nebo with nothing but frustrated hopes and disappointment, and many will face certain death if returned to their home countries.

You may have strong feelings that these children should not be allowed into our country.  But regardless of your feelings, there’s something we can learn from these children, and from their faith journey, just as we can learn from Moses.   When he stood on that mountaintop knowing he had failed, he did not whine about it.  He did not blame anyone.  He did not try to argue with God.  He willingly passed the mantle of leadership onto Joshua, not desperately grabbing at the reins to secure his own thirst for power, as we see so many leaders do.  He entrusted his life and his death to God.

These children at the border also entrust their lives to God.  The Rev. Bishop Claire Burkat of the Southeastern PA Synod, in a sermon to the gathering of the Women of the ELCA a few weeks ago, shared some really moving stories about how the church is ministering to those children.  She shared about a woman named Martha and her husband Gabriel.  “They have opened their homes to these children, as part of the network of transitional group foster care.  Since the facility opened in April over eighty children of God have been guests in their home.  ‘The children are afraid when they come to us,’ said Gabriel. ‘ But this is their ‘promised land’ given everything they have been through. These children come with remarkable faith. We pray with them at night, at meals.  Some of these children become “little evangelists” because they are welcomed here and their faith is nurtured.’  In the faces of Martha and Gabriel, and in the faces of the children, you can see the faith of Jesus.”

You see, the church comes alongside those who stand on Mt. Nebo and reminds them that no matter what awaits them on the way back down the mountain, the love of God is there as well.  There is a woman named Kathy Herzberg who is a member of an ELCA Congregation, Our Savior in McAllen, Texas.  She volunteers with other Lutherans along with parishioners from Sacred Heart Catholic Church. Catholics and Lutherans together are working day and night. Kathy manages the teams of volunteers who feed, clothe and care for border children.  Every day teams of volunteers launder 10—20 loads, seven days a week.  Love and Laundry – that’s how the church stands on Mt. Nebo with the children who are longing for a promised land of safety. (Visit Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services to learn more about how you can help the children at the border:  http://lirs.org/).

Because Christians remember another refugee who fled with his parents from violence in his homeland. 

The child Jesus was a refugee from the murderous rampage of Herod and his gangs, seeking asylum in a foreign land.  Ironically, that country was Egypt, where his ancestors had been slaves.  Apparently since that time, the hearts of the people in that land had softened and changed, and they were kind enough to allow that child and his parents into their country. 

Later, as a grown man, Jesus would come to know the same frustration that Moses had experienced, having traveled through so many wildernesses, trying to lead the people to the Promised Land of God’s love, forgiveness and reconciliation.  But like Moses on Mt. Nebo, Jesus could only stand and look out on the future with wistfulness, saying, “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” 

 

The church of Jesus has not forgotten that longing.  While others may be screaming at the children to leave, or bringing in soldiers with guns to keep them away, the church stands quietly with her arms outstretched, like a mother hen welcoming the children.

 

“There is a sign out in front of Martha and Gabriel's home in Spanish.  La última parada de un largo viaje. Bienvenidos. In English it reads: The last stop of a long journey.  Welcome.’

Perhaps Moses, too, felt welcome as he came down that mountain.  He entrusted his life to God.  God had never abandoned him.  And he knew with certainty that he could entrust his death to God.  Perhaps you, too, can come to trust that no matter what frustrations you have experienced, no matter how many disappointments and failed hopes you suffered through, there is a welcome sign put out for you, too. 

The welcome sign was put out for you as you entered the Promised Land through the waters of baptism.  The welcome sign is put out for you every week as you come to the table and taste the bread of hope and wine of forgiveness.  And when you make your final journey down the mountain, the welcome sign will be there for you, in the shape of a cross, of the One who entrusted his life and his death . . . and his resurrection to God. 

La última parada de un largo viaje. Bienvenidos. The last stop of a long journey.  Welcome.

Miners versus Clean Air Activists? Don't Believe the Lie

Miners versus Clean Air Activists?  Don't Believe the Lie

The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade

On the morning of July 31, 2014, I gathered with about 25 people of faith representing different traditions and denominations in front of the Moorhead Building in Pittsburgh where the EPA was holding hearings about their new proposed carbon reduction rule for coal-fired electricity plants. 

Led by Rev. Paul Lubold, Advocacy Developer for Lutheran Advocacy Ministries of PA (LAMPa), we prayed, invoked the Four Directions (in the spirit of our First Nation friends), lamented the desecration of God’s created world, read inspiring passages about healing and protecting God’s Creation, and held hands singing a chorus of “Amen.”  All the while, the busy world of car and truck traffic, foot traffic and the hectic life of the city during the morning rush seemed oblivious to what we were doing.  But we were creating sacred space, lifting up the EPA officials who would listen to our testimonies, and praying for all those who would testify both for and against the rule. 

   

At 9:30 a.m. I gave my testimony (read the full version here).  Before and after, I heard others testifying in favor of the rule, including a scientist, a nun, environmental activists, a teenage boy, a farmer, and two individuals who spoke passionately about the effects of carbon pollution on African Americans and other minorities.  Nikki Silvestri of Green for All noted that 68% of African Americans live within 30 miles of a coal plant and bear the cost through debilitating lung diseases and poor health.  She gave the encouraging news that according to recent polls, minority populations are paying more attention to environmental issues and becoming involved in seeking practical solutions.

At 11:00, a rally for clean-air advocates was held, after which we made our way down to the street where miners and boilerplate makers where marching to protest the rule, yelling that it would take away their jobs.  The scene was tense and confrontational.  As I watched the camouflaged-shirted men (and some of their wives) moving through the street, listening to the two groups yelling at the top of their lungs, the distressing nature of the scene was not lost on me.  

These miners – these could be my parishioners – hard-working, family-loving men with strong faith and solid values.  Yet here we were, yelling at each other across a divide that doesn’t really exist.  They care about their children, and so do clean-air activists.  They want to be able to provide for their families, and so do we.  We are not their enemy.  What they don’t realize is that we are actually on their side.  We want them to have good paying jobs that will not require them to sacrifice their health and the land around them that is sacred to all of us.

At the clean-air rally just a few minutes before the protests, we listened to a single mother from West Virginia who came from three generations of miners.  She watched her grandfather, father and many family members lose their health and ultimately their lives to the mines, lung disease, and injuries.  She shared with us how much pride her family had in their occupation as coal miners.  But one day it finally hit her – it’s not acceptable that the powering of America should require the sacrifice of her family, of America’s men who work in the mines. 

We also heard from a fifth generation Iowa farmer who admitted that farmers have been “late to the game” in combating climate change.  He noted that although many of his peers deny humankind’s culpability for climate change, they all know that something is seriously wrong when their farms go from extremes of too much rainfall in one month to drought conditions the next, with seasonal temperature disruptions that are affecting all of them. Something has to be done, he said, and we can do it. American ingenuity can tackle this problem.

Another speaker echoed the farmer’s words and said that he refused to believe the lie that converting to energy efficiency and renewables will send our energy costs higher and result in economic shut-down and loss of jobs.  We are better than that, we’re smarter than that, he said, to the enthusiastic cheers of the crowd.

Perhaps the speaker that gave me the most hope was from the BlueGreen Alliance, which, according to their website, “unites 15 of our country’s largest unions and environmental organizations. Acting together, through nearly 16 million members and supporters, we are a powerful voice for building a cleaner, fairer and more competitive American economy.”  This is the kind of unity of purpose we need to see more of, now more than ever. 

How I wished, as I watched the miners and union workers screaming at us, that we could sit down together, talk and listen to each other.  As the prophet Isaiah spoke, “Come now, and let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. If you will be willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land: but if you refuse and rebel, you shall be devoured with the sword: for the mouth of the Lord has spoken it.” (Isaiah 1:18-20).

The Fossil Fuel Giants must have been tickled with glee that their workers were fighting their battle for them.  Why can’t they, like the mother from West Virginia, realize that they are simply throw-away parts in a machine that only creates the illusion of security through a dangerous job that will kill them and the planet which we all share?

The confrontation between our two groups took me by surprise, and I deeply regretted and was saddened by the hostile nature of the competing protests.  Had I known, I would have brought a different sign than the one I held about climate change.  I would have held a sign with a quote from the The Hunger Games: Catching Fire: 

“Remember who the real enemy is.”

We are not your enemy.

EPA Carbon Pollution Hearing Testimony

US EPA Carbon Pollution Guidelines Public Hearing, Pittsburgh, PA

Testimony by

The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade, PhD

Pastor, United in Christ Lutheran Church, Lewisburg, PA

Member, Task Force on Slickwater Hydraulic Fracturing, Upper Susquehanna Synod of the

Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA)

Representative of Lutheran Advocacy Ministry of Pennsylvania (LAMPa)

Founder, Interfaith Sacred Earth Coalition of the Susquehanna Valley

July 31, 2014

First, I want to thank the EPA and Administrator McCarthy for paying serious attention to this issue of carbon emissions and their deleterious effect on our planet’s atmosphere.  I commend you for giving citizens the opportunity to be heard on this important issue.  The proposed rule is well-researched, with solid background in science regarding greenhouse gases, their effect on the planet, and their negative impact on public health.  It offers a wide range of options for states and power generators to meet the new requirements to reduce greenhouse gases.  As a pastor who has particular concern for “the least of these,” I was especially pleased to see attention given to the health of children when weighing the input of stakeholders.  I come today on behalf of myself, my husband and two young children, my congregation, United in Christ Lutheran Church in Lewisburg, the Upper Susquehanna Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, Lutheran Advocacy Ministry of Pennsylvania, and the Interfaith Sacred Earth Coalition of the Susquehanna Valley to express my support for the new EPA rule to reduce carbon pollution, even while it is under attack from industry groups that want to weaken this life-saving measure.  As a clergyperson, you can be assured of my backing of this proposal.

However, as a member of my synod’s task force on slickwater hydraulic fracturing which spent two years studying the ethical and moral issues surrounding fracking; and as a member of several environmental groups that study and bear witness to the harmful effects of the shale gas industry in our state and across the country, I must raise concerns that are not addressed in the EPA’s proposed rules.  Three years ago I gave testimony in support of the EPA’s Mercury and Air Toxins Rule which, at the time, was a strong measure for reducing poisons from the coal industry.  An unexpected and harmful effect of this rule, however, was that it helped to pave the way for the shale gas industry to establish itself in our state and commit untold damage to our air, water, state and private lands, and public health.  I fear that this new rule on carbon emissions would only further enable the shale gas and oil industry to secure its hold in Pennsylvania and do still more damage to ecological and human health.

Yes, the new EPA rules will force Pennsylvania to reduce its air pollution and burn less coal. But how we adjust to less coal will make all the difference.  If we build more renewable energy infrastructure and increase energy efficiency, our air will be cleaner and greenhouse gases will be reduced. But if we replace coal with fracked gas, we will only be making our air and atmosphere worse.  These rules, as written, only codify the transition from coal to gas that is already underway. As well, the rule gives implicit consent to burn more trash, tires, coal sludge, and other forms of toxic waste for electricity.  So while I believe the proposal is a good first step, it is not only inadequate, it will have the unintended consequence of replacing one source of dirty fuel with many others.

Methane is a greenhouse gas even more potent than carbon.  The rule does not address total lifecycle emissions from methane-gas-fired power plants, including leakage during production, processing, and transmission, emissions flaring at gas wells, and energy consumed in the production and transport of liquefied natural gas.  Researchers found methane leak rates of 100 to 1,000 times greater than EPA estimates at well pads in Pennsylvania. And the EPA’s Office of the Inspector General just issued a report citing the agency’s failures to manage methane leaks from pipelines. 

Instead of promoting a strategy that perpetuates fossil fuels and fracking (and make no mistake – shale gas is a fossil fuel), the proposed rule should include an aggressive pursuit of renewables, energy efficiency, and conservation.  Shale gas and oil are not the solution to carbon pollution in the United States.  They are, in fact, an even worse enemy.  The rule should set absolute reduction targets for total greenhouse gas emissions for each state. Otherwise emissions will continue to grow as more energy is consumed.

I urge for the rule to be substantially amended with policies that expressly favor stringent conservation standards, as well as increased sourcing of electricity from renewable energy, which is emission free.  

This would be faster, cleaner and more economical than investing in natural gas, waste product incineration, and nuclear power. Renewables and efficiency can produce more reductions of CO2 per megawatt hour than natural gas.

I am committed to helping people of faith learn how to do their part to care for God’s Creation and support eco-justice issues.  I call for the EPA to not only stand its ground with this rule, but to actually strengthen and expand it in order to put in place the strongest protections possible to defend public health, the fragile atmosphere of our planet, and the communities that will bear the costs and suffering from our addiction to fossil fuels and greenhouse gases.  Thank you.