The Meyer Minute

The Meyer Minute for June 23, 2020

Diane and I have to take some time off from the Minute. We’re deep into moving, packing this week, moving van coming next week. Whew! Lord willing, the Minute will return July 6. Be safe and socially close to your Lord.

The Meyer Minute for June 19, 2020

The late Karl Lutze began his ministry serving African American congregations in Oklahoma, first in Muskogee and then Tulsa. He focused on service, and when you’re intent on serving others, you have experiences.

“We were still chatting when we came to the hedge at the end of the walk to the street. Suddenly the strangers stepped from behind the shrubbery. They’d been there waiting for us. Identifying themselves as members of the White Citizens Council…. One of the men said, “We don’t like you and what you’re doing. And, don’t forget, we know exactly where you live!” (Awakening to Equality, University of Missouri Press, 2006; 140).

A much used word these days is “racism,” which Rev. Lutze says is overused. “I have not found it useful to use the term racism. Many whites seem to associate that term with meanness—remembering the brutality, lynchings, and burning of crosses and churches…. Since those who are repulsed by such conduct would never become thus involved, they would likely exclude themselves from being regarded as racist. Nonetheless, they may well tacitly subordinate people of another race. I have found it helpful, therefore, to define the issue this way: It is the reality of subordinating—by attitude, words, or actions—other individuals or groups for irrelevant reasons, such as racial of cultural derivation” (45).

“Subordination” captures how the Church approaches interpersonal relationships, including relationships between people of different races. “In humility count others more significant than yourselves.” Isn’t this the mind of Christ whose cross was put on us in baptism? “He humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:3, 8). The Latin word “minister” means “a subordinate, servant.” Ministry in the priesthood of all believers is devotion to Christ shown in service to whomever God puts before us. “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39).

Rev. Lutze finally asked his critics, “‘Which church do you attend?’ After a rather awkward silence, one of the women spoke up and in a soft voice admitted, ‘We haven’t been to church anywhere for a couple of months now.’ I said, ‘I’m really glad you said that. I appreciate your honesty. I think that means that the way you have been thinking and talking and acting, you realize, can hardly be pleasing to your Lord, Jesus. You really don’t feel you can come into the presence of God, as long as you walk another path’” (140).

The Meyer Minute for June 17, 2020

“Where have you been?” That’s what Mom asks whenever I fail to call her. Last Saturday I missed our appointed time, 7:00 am, because grandson Christian and I were hard at work at our home in Collinsville, getting ready for the move the end of this month. After a long day of work, 10 hours, and finally driving back to campus, Diane texted, “Where are you?”

One line in church ritual always pricks my conscience. “Most merciful God, we confess that we are by nature sinful and unclean. We have sinned against You by thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone.” Those last words always pop up my unfinished list of things to do. Being a seminary president means responding to countless requests for this, that or whatever. Can’t do it all. “Why no Meyer Minute this week?” No fresh ideas, that’s why. Mom is healthy but regrets not having the energy to do all she wants to do. Know the feeling? “What we have left undone.”

The confession is deeper than a checklist of “to dos.” “What we have left undone” triggers, or should trigger reflection about who we really are before God. We are His people, His creatures limited in what we can do, where we can be, who we are. Our natural bent is toward work-righteousness, to justify ourselves by what we do. The line “what we have left undone” exposes our natural tendency to act omnicompetent, as if we’re God. Ludicrous!

Mom’s question leads me to treasure the biblical word “grace.” Grace is God gifting us with blessings temporal and eternal, 100 percent apart from anything we’ve ever done, do or will do. That includes going to church, reading the Bible, praying, being orthodox and faithful to God and Jesus. “Not the labors of my hands can fulfill Thy Law’s demands” (Lutheran Service Book 761, 2). Of course, the working world is about merit, not grace, but sooner or later the world’s ways pass. It’s another of God’s many gifts that aging and retirement clue us into how we truly stand before our Creator, Judge and Savior.

I pledge that in retirement I will never say, “I’m so busy, I don’t know when I found time to go to work.” Ain’t goina say that! No matter how busy I may be, I want to avoid justifying myself by my works.

The Meyer Minute for June 12, 2020

Sunday is Flag Day. What flag? The Confederate Flag? No. The Stars and Stripes? But upside-down to signal distress? Or right-side-up because it’s still a great country? Americans have all kinds of deep feelings about the flag.

It’s not that our country is our God. In Exodus 19:5, God said, “You shall be my treasured possession among all peoples.” About whom is God speaking? It’s easy for Christians as the majority religious group in the United States to apply those words to America. Similarly, President Ronald Reagan described America as “a city upon a hill,” borrowing the phrase from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, Matthew 5:14. Jesus, however, isn’t speaking about an earthly nation but about His followers in whatever nation we happen to be. God’s promise in Exodus 19 to the ancient people He rescued from slavery in Egypt is fulfilled in the people of Jesus. “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9). Our country is not our God.

When the First Amendment says, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof,” it lays down this constitutional truth: Americans have two sovereigns, government and our conscience to believe and worship as we will. St. Paul says, “Our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior” (Philippians 3:20). Lutherans call this distinction the “two kingdoms” or “two realms,” our two sovereigns of God and government. “I pledge allegiance…” Who comes first for you?

Why is the study and memorization of Scripture important for America? Because it teaches followers of Jesus to discern between God and country. President Reagan’s “city on a hill” not only expressed hope for earthly America but for Scripturally based Christians evoked Jesus’ call to be salt and light in our nation. “That you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” What flag will we honor on Sunday? We’ll worship our Creator and Redeemer and also begin a new week of selfless service to all people. “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people he has chosen as his heritage!” (Psalm 33:12). “For God and country.” The first blesses the second.

The Meyer Minute for June 10, 2020

In our national conversation about race relations, some people point to the brokenness of families, of some families, not all families in the African American community. John Schmidtke has been a pastor in north St. Louis for over thirty years. In a soon-to-be-published book, he writes,

“For us in lower income, urban areas, the absence of solid family life stands continually right in front of us. Well, ‘Let’s have parenting classes!’ is often the first response. Educating parents is important. There is some truth to that. Yet, the problem is more fundamental. Most parents who need parenting help and guidance won’t come to a class for it. Worse than that, most parents who know that their home isn’t what it should be, don’t want change bad enough to do something about the brokenness of their home…. What happens with the children whose parents won’t do what’s needed to change their family life? …There’s a great likelihood that the family that they end up leading will simply repeat the cycle that they’ve grown up in.” As a common observation goes, “Children learn what they live.”

Our national conversation will no doubt lead to legislation and executive orders, but what do you and I do? Watch as spectators? Specifically, what is your congregation and mine doing? “Well,” you think. I don’t live in north St. Louis or Ward 3 in Houston or” … oh, so many places could be listed. But broken families are in all our communities. “It’s everywhere—in suburbs and urban areas, among the rich and the poor, both Christians and non-Christians have brokenness in their families. Sometimes having money can mask seeing the damage in families.” 

Pastor Schmidtke’s emphatic answer is, “ENTER GOD’S PEOPLE, THE CHURCH! The Church is the best opportunity to BE FAMILY to those who are “family-less,” and TEACH WHAT FAMILY IS to those who are “family-less.”

Jesus says, “‘Who are my mother and my brothers?’ And looking about at those who sat around him, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of God, he is my brother and sister and mother” (Mark 3:33-35). I look forward to the publication of Pastor Schmidtke’s book. Whatever the color of your community and congregation, you’ll find it insightful. We who gather around Jesus are His family. Is there a better place for those who live in brokenness to learn of selfless love and the hope of healing than in the Church?

The Meyer Minute for June 8, 2020

I don’t remember how Grandpa Meyer’s rocking chair came to me, but I’ve had it since the early 1970’s.

Grandpa was a farmer. If you’re familiar with the southern suburbs of Chicago, you may know a subdivision in Olympia Fields called “Graymoor.” Before it was Graymoor, it was where Grandpa farmed. In time Uncle Er took over the farm and Grandpa and Grandma moved into town, into a stucco house on 14^th Place in Chicago Heights. One of my childhood memories is going to visit them, walking into the screened-in front porch where Grandpa and Grandma sat in their rockers speaking Low German.

A rocker isn’t for work, but Grandpa’s rocker was pressed into duty as my first desk chair. When Diane and I arrived at the dual parish of Venedy and New Memphis, Illinois, the study/office in the parsonage had no furniture, no desk. When Friday came and I had to write my sermon, I sat in Grandpa’s chair with my little portable Royal typewriter on a TV tray table in front of me. It was awkward. Rockers are not designed for work but for relaxing and leisurely thinking. Three weeks from retirement, I’m sitting more and more in Grandpa’s rocker, relaxing and reflecting.

Robert Polidori specializes in photographing empty rooms. “Rooms,” he says, “are the most apt metaphor for notions of memory. They are filing cabinets where internal life resides. People put on the walls of their rooms signs of who they think they are or who they want to be” (Wall Street Journal Magazine, June-July, 72). Your favorite chairs do that too. A rocker invites slow reflection away from a desk and computer, away from physical labor. I guess you can do that in an easy chair, but an easy chair seems more self-indulgent than a rocker. In Grandpa’s rocker I reflect on my place in the passing generations, I think about current events, I realize I’m a blue-collar guy at heart, and I find contentment in the God of peace. Do you have a chair where you’re best in touch with who you are?

Several years ago, I had Grandpa’s rocker refinished. Not only is it beautiful, it’s comfortable, no cushion needed. “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength” (Isaiah 30:15). In what chair do you do that?

The Meyer Minute for June 4, 2020

When we think about sin, we usually think about words or actions that break God’s commandments. For example, looting breaks the Seventh Commandment, “You shall not steal.” Such actions are classified as “sins of commission.”

There are also “sins of omission,” times we don’t do something we should. So Martin Luther’s explanation to the Seventh Commandment says, “We should fear and love God so that we do not take our neighbor’s money or possessions or get them in any dishonest way (i.e. sins of commission) but help him to improve and protect his possessions and income (i.e. sins of omission).” “Whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin” (James 4:17).

Let’s go now from “those looters” to ourselves, from the Seventh Commandment to the Fifth Commandment. Keep George Floyd in mind. “You shall not murder. What does this mean? We should fear and love God so that we do not hurt or harm our neighbor in his body (i.e. sins of commission) but help and support him in every physical need (i.e. sins of omission).” When it comes to race relations, I assume that you and I have not committed outward sins of commission, but are we committing sins of omission?

How many people of color are your Facebook friends? I have very few. That means that while we’re keeping up with what “our own kind of people” are doing, we are not being sensitive and informed about our other neighbors, people of color. Is this a sin of omission? I think so. Like the priest and Levite in Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan, we are passing by on the other side of the road absorbed with our self-chosen pursuits and friends on social media (Luke 10:25-37).

Michelle Saahene calls our attention to a video of two black men arrested in Starbucks in 2018. “The reason the Starbucks video went viral was because a white woman had shared it, and her social media was very white. She didn’t have that many friends of color. So, all these white people were seeing this video of racial discrimination that they normally wouldn’t otherwise see… So many people that live segregated lives, but still go to Starbucks, started saying, ‘I can’t believe this is actually going on. I can’t believe this is happening.’ And people of color were asking, ‘Where have you been? You know, it’s in our timelines every single day.’” (Christian Capatides, CBS News).

Something to think about…

The Meyer Minute for June 2, 2020

One commentator, I apologize I can’t recall her name, tweeted insightfully that 2020 is like 1974, 1918 and 1929, and 1968 all rolled into one year. In 1974 America faced a constitutional crisis with the resignation of President Richard Nixon. In 1918 Americans died from the Spanish flu and in 1929 the economy crashed. And in 1968 riots scared America. Remember the Democratic national convention in Chicago? All those terrible experiences are being played out in their own ways in 2020.

A co-worked shared this observation, that we often deflect our attention from the basic problem of injustice in society by focusing upon the lawlessness of rioters. Here’s how it goes. “What was done to George Floyd was terrible but that does not justify the violence.” True but those are two different problems. Shifting our attention and words to the rioting deflects from somber reflection upon the underlying failure of Americans to fully live up to the words of the Declaration of Independence “that all men are created equal.” After the Civil War ended slavery, the Fourteenth Amendment was passed: “Nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.” The long series of African Americans killed by police shows that “we the people” have a fundamental problem to address at the deepest level of our life together.

So what do we do, we who follow the One who associated with outcasts and despised, who teaches us in the parable of the Good Samaritan that all people are our neighbors, and who says, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” (Hosea 6:6; Matthew 9:13)? When we go to church, many of us confess to God, “We have not loved You with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.” What neighbors do we think of, those on our street, those who look like us, those who are our socio-economic peers? I’m guessing most of us harbor some racial prejudice in the dark recesses of our hearts, since “every intention of the thoughts of his (mankind’s) heart was only evil continually” (Genesis 6:5).

Martin Luther wrote that we church people are simul iustus et peccator, both saint and sinner at the same time. The Gospel is that Jesus, the Suffering Servant, invites us to repentance for our deepest feelings, pronounces forgiveness, and then enable