I’ve added a new page in the “About Worship” series, intended primarily for people who may come to us from other churches, and wonder just what we are doing on Sunday. Sorry if it’s a little dry.
Here’s the key sentence: “Reading the Bible together makes Jesus present with us, as truly as the Eucharist does.” Click here for more.
Okay, I admit it: Lutheran worship can seem a little strange. It’s too plain for the Orthodox, and too fancy for the Reformed. Anglicans and Roman Catholics usually catch on quickly, but many other Christians may find themselves wondering just what we are doing, and why.
Don’t worry. It all makes sense, at least after a while. The idea is to to pray and sing, to hear the words of Scripture read and talked about, and to share the meal that Jesus gave us. The rest of it is just details.
But there’s no reason to waste time puzzling over the details, when they are easy enough to explain. From time to time, I’m going to post a little bit about the hows and whys of Lutheran worship, and leave them on the “Pages” bar on the left side of the page.
And here’s the first one, about the Brief Order for Confession and Forgiveness. I hope you enjoy it.
Yesterday, we celebrated Independence Day. At many American churches, this is unremarkable. But here in Romania — in a service where only a few of us were from the United States — it was a different event. Or, rather, it felt different. I wondered how the other people felt about it. After all, not every nation enjoys the same independence we do. Not every nation is equally excited about the uses to which we have put our independence, or our many other blessings.
People were good sports, though, and celebrated along with us. We had cake, with sparklers, and sang the “Star-Spangled Banner”, more or less right. Theodore wore an Uncle Sam hat.
Before all this, though, I taken a few minutes to reflect upon the way that different nations observe their national holidays, and on what it means. I said something like this:
July 4th is a big holiday in the United States — a celebration of our history and our liberty. We celebrate in different ways (grilling meat in the back yard, selling cars at a discount), but the most traditional of them by far is setting off explosions. From a few friends lighting firecrackers in the driveway to a massive display of fireworks over the harbor of a great city, Americans celebrate today with bursts of light and color. They are beautiful and exciting, but they also remind us that our liberty was purchased with violence and war.
I suppose that every country has some day like this, and I suppose that on such days, our nations give a sort of testimony. They tell a story about who they are. In Cameroon, one member tells me, they set aside one day each year to rejoice in their bilingualism, their two official languages, French and English. A few days ago, Canadians held their national day; no explosions, because their independence was a peaceful transition. Sometimes they invite the Queen to visit, as a reminder that they are still part of one Commonwealth. These are our stories, the things we value about ourself, and they are not the same from one nation to another. Independence; tolerance; peacefulness — they are all beautiful things, and they are all different.
And what about us, my friends? What about our “nation,” the Church? What story do we tell the world about ourselves?
Christians have much to celebrate. Much of the greatest art in human history has been created by Christians, to the glory of God. In places where there is poverty or disaster, Christian relief agencies are often on the front lines. When Jesus sent out his seventy apostles, they returned with joy, saying, “Lord, even the demons submit to us.” What was true then is true now as well: God gives us the power to subdue the forces of evil, the powers that seek to take away human dignity.
But Jesus warned the apostles, and he warns us as well: ”Do not rejoice because the demons submit to you. Rejoice because your names are written in Heaven.” In other words, the wonderful things that God gives us the power to do, and that we do in God’s name, are not the ultimate reason for our celebrations. We celebrate not because of anything that we do, but rather because of what Jesus did for us, when on the Cross he won a decisive victory against the powers of death and hell, and gained us the hope of eternal life.
Some nations fire rockets into the sky; others invite a foreign queen, or rejoice in their many languages. But our nation, our Church, tells its story in a different way. We tell it by gathering together to sing and pray, whether five or six of us around a table, or thousands packing massive amphitheater. We tell it when we reach out our hands to help those in need, victims of fire or flood; to lift up the oppressed or comfort the lonely. We tell the story of Jesus, and his victory against the powers of death; the story of God, who has made us and redeemed us. Each time we make peace or protect the weak, each time we forgive somebody, each time we love somebody, we tell the world who we are — and who God is.
I have added a couple of recent sermons to our main English Ministry website, and will add more as time allows.
There’s a new link on the side of the page, or else you can click this link here.
These are my own sermons, which is a shame, since many people think Pastor Terri is the better preacher. You’ll just have to check back for samples of her work … or better yet, join us on Sunday at 5:00.
After this they went home, and sung a song of thanksgiving, and praised the Lord in heaven: because it is good, because his mercy endureth forever. — I Maccabees, 4:24
After a great victory against their enemies, God’s people “went home” to pray. But sometimes, God’s people have no home. Sometimes, the enemies against which we struggle are poverty and homelessness. And sometimes, working together, we can gain a great victory in God’s name.
Since 1976, Habitat for Humanity has been helping poor families build and pay for their own homes. Habitat, or HFH, is a nondenominational Christian organization committed to ending poverty housing worldwide. (It is also dear to Pr. Terri’s heart, since many years ago she helped to start the first-ever college chapter, at Baylor University). Here in Romania, the independent HFH organization has been at work since 1996, and has helped more than 1000 families into new homes and renovated apartments.
In the wake of the worldwide economic crisis, which has dramatically reduced the funds available to many charitable organizations, HFH Romania has remained faithful to its mission goals, but changed its strategies for achieving them. In rural Romania, for example, many families still live without fresh, clean water. Improvements to a village’s water and sanitation system can sometimes achieve more, and for more people, than simple construction can to end poverty and improve housing.
Habitat needs partners. It seems strange to imagine our little church can do much good. We are so few, and needs are so great! But every church feels that way, from time to time: overwhelmed by the needs of a broken world. Yet we have a call from God, and we have the Spirit of God to give us strength. Who know what we can accomplish together?
To learn more aboutHhabitat for Humanity, and to explore ways to help our neighbors in need, please join us after worship on Sunday, 13 June, for a presentation by representatives of the Cluj chapter. The service begins at 5:00 pm.
This is Aaron. Please pray for him.
If you worship with us on Sundays, you will usually hear, among the prayers of intercession, something like this: ”We pray for our partner churches in Romania and New York, and especially for Trinity in Long Island City, as they welcome Paul their new pastor.” If you are new here, you may wonder why, out of all the churches of the world, we are praying for these in particular.
Here’s why: they are our partners in a very direct and personal way. Terri and I were sent here by the Metropolitan New York Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. We are their missionaries. We keep them in prayer, and ask them to do the same for us.
Well, the synod has another missionary, as well. His name is Aaron Schutte, and he is in Tanzania, where he teaches at the Kibeta English-Medium Primary School. To learn more about him, read his blog. Kibeta may seem like a different world than Cluj, and his daily work — teaching children how to read and write — is very different from ours. But we share a ministry, which is to be living symbols of the connectedness among Christians all over the Earth.
So I ask you to keep our brother Aaron in your prayers, as you keep Terri and me. Pray for the Northwest Diocese of the Lutheran Church in Tanzania, as you pray for the Evangelical-Lutheran Church in Romania. And remember that we are one in Christ.
Ave atque vale, the Romans used to say: Hail and farewell.
On Pentecost, we said goodbye to some friends. Charles and Jann were here on sabbatical, Rob and Marsha because of sports. But seasons and semesters end, and it was time for them to leave. So after Holy Communion, Pr. Terri led the “Farewell and Godspeed” service.
Soon, of course, we will say many more goodbyes. As the school year winds down, we know that many of our Sunday evening “regulars” will disappear. We’re a little uneasy about summer worship services, as you can imagine. Pastors in college towns and resort communities are used to this, but it will be new for us. We are bracing ourselves for the shock.
The strangest part, for us, is that the English ministry in Cluj is so new that we have scarcely had time to say a proper “hello” to anyone. We have not formed the long, deep relationships that parish pastors get used to. As Terri said, we can’t even say we’re losing members, because this isn’t the sort of congregation that has members — only friends. But of course, it’s hard to lose your friends.
So here’s what we tell ourselves: that we aren’t losing anybody. Not in the way that matters. Nor are we really all that far from our old friends and colleagues in New York, about whom we spend more time thinking than you might expect. Because if you go to church on Sunday, wherever you are, then you are worshiping with us, as we are with you. Wherever we may be standing, we are all gathered around the same altar.
One of the things that Lutheran pastors do is get together, with each other and with laypeople, at an assembly every year. We call it a synod, from the Greek words for “on the same road.” Anyway, I have ben attending them since 1992, and it feels strange to be far away right now, while my own synod assembles.
But I put this video together, so that some friends could show it at the Westchester Marriott, while they described the work Terri and I are doing in Romania. It runs about two minutes, and I hope you enjoy it.
The Baptism
On the Fifth Sunday of Easter, 2 May, Djeumessi Michael Romeo — or Mickey — was baptized at the Evangelical-Lutheran Church in Cluj. Mickey is a citizen of Cameroon, who studies Computer Science at Babes-Bolyai University. He has been coming to church faithfully for several months, after being invited by another Cameroonian classmate.
Supper After Worship, at Pizzeria Rex
I spent several weeks preparing Mickey for baptism, largely by studying Luther’s Small Catechism together. At our first meeting, I asked him who, based on his own experience, he thought God was. His answer was simple: ”God is my all-in-all.” The words rolled around in my head for a while, but only after we had chosen a date for his baptism did I see the second lesson for that Sunday: ”I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.” In other words, the all-in-all.
It’s funny how these things work out.
Back Row From Left: Adriana, Marcha, Pr. Terri, Matthew, Mickey. Rob is in the foreground.
After worship yesterday, a group from church went to the basketball game — a quarterfinal playoff between Targu-Mures and U-Mobitelco (one of the two Cluj teams). One of the players for U is an American named Rob Thomson, who frequently worships with us.
It was a good game. Our side won, although it was close. Pastor Terri assures me that Rob won the game single-handed. I wasn’t there and can’t say, but I do know from a previous outing that the guy is a master of the foul shot.
But here’s the real point to this post, especially alongside the one before it: a reminder that “church” isn’t just a synonym for worship, or charity, or ethics. It is life together in community, connected by our baptism not only to God but also to each other. 
