Editor’s Note: Click here to register for Lutheran CORE’s next free webinar, Vision Casting for Church Leaders, led by the author.

During the night Paul had a vision of a man of Macedonia standing and begging him, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” After Paul had seen the vision, we got ready at once to leave for Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach the gospel to them.  Acts 16:9-10

An extraordinary vision launched St. Paul into new territory, setting the stage for a world history changing ministry despite all the challenges that would follow.  Every movement in Christian history has followed the same pattern including the path taken by our own Martin Luther.  God shows a way forward and believers do something about it. “What is God saying to me and how will I respond?” becomes the basis for a different trajectory because the inverse is also true: “Where there is no vision, the people perish” Proverbs 29:18.  Vision is the place where tomorrow is shaped. Vision draws in excitement, motivates believers, and determines what may be accomplished. Vision inspires creativity and is a catalyst for innovation. Vision points to a future possibility. And then comes Monday morning and we’re already exhausted.

Our mutual challenge is this; statistically, according to a research study by George Barna, four percent of pastors have a Vision for their communities. I would suggest the other ninety-six percent of us also have a Vision, but it’s a Vision maybe not as clearly articulated to inspire motivation in a congregation.  Personally, I think Barna asked the wrong questions. In a lengthier tome we could dig into the results of spiritual gift inventories and note how few of us have Apostle as our primary gift set (they love taking new territory and Vision seems to leak out of their pores) and how/why the bulk of us test out as Pastors/Teachers. No surprise, yes?  We are emotionally and spiritually committed to the people who called us. That’s what it means to be called – caring for those who invited us into that role of leadership and understand our roles as pastoring and teaching. 

Living with integrity requires an openness to lean into the negative, see past the frustration and ask, “Why is this my reality?”  That is the pivot point for all manner of Holy Discontents. Then what? This is not throwing shade at the theological systems which formed us, but were we taught next steps? I know I wasn’t, at least not initially, and I don’t claim to be an expert in how to teach others to discover their own, but I have learned a few things over the years about how to hear and effectively cast one.  Much of that came from the Beeson Institute for Church Leadership, sadly a three-year program no longer available at Asbury Seminary and I thank Dr. Dale Galloway for having the vision to have launched it.

What does an implemented Vision look like?  One example: It happened in Orinda, California and the congregation I was serving.  Both of our kids were in school in Moraga, CA.  Their friends would come over for play dates or we’d drop them off to visit.  One Saturday I noticed our backyard looked like a tiny version of the UN. There were kids from nearly every ethnic background running around and happily laughing and then it hit me – why doesn’t my congregation look like my kids’ friends? So it began.  In Orinda we welcomed a Korean ministry among us which eventually led to their pastor teaching at Luther Seminary. That vision never left and when the family ended up in Columbia, Maryland the same Vision continued.  I felt a call to that community precisely because it was so ethnically diverse and we ended up with nine services a weekend in five languages with the Ocansey Royal Family of Ada, Ghana blessing me to become an honorary chief and my wife an honorary queen mother.  A simple challenge that I heard from Christ, “Why doesn’t my church look like my kids’ friends?” 

What’s God saying to you? And if you want to do something about it, how will you cast the Vision for it?

Please register and join us online on Wednesday, February 19th for our vision casting webinar.

Editor’s Note: Lutheran CORE is collecting and possibly publishing stories from our readers and congregations about the process they followed when they tried to exit the ELCA — successfully or not — including any abuse by church authorities towards their congregation. This article by Dr. Brian Hughes, Lutheran CORE Board Vice-President, is the first in our new Escaping Egypt series.

He replied to him, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” Pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers.” Matthew 12:48-49

Hi. My name is Brian and I’m an ACOA. I’ve had friends in ministry question why it took so long for me to finally exit the ELCA and roster with another church body, a fair question and one that needs to get lifted for those who are still inside. Make no mistake, as our director Dennis Nelson has begun to warn, the doors are likely to slam shut next August at the national ELCA Assembly.  So why are you and your congregation still inside, especially if you’re a moderate, grace filled compassionate confessional Lutheran?

 So why DID I hang on so long? I served as Assistant to the Bishop of the Sierra Pacific Synod in the early 2000s when the advocates came after me, tried to destroy my career because I was merely a moderate and not a champion for their movement of change.  As I like to say, I didn’t know what the words slander, libel and defamation meant, but my attorney wife did. I left that call, moved to the other side of the country (Maryland) and helped continue building out a prevailing ministry, but still in the ELCA until finally retiring early and leaving January 2020.

Welcome to the world of ACOA (adult children of alcoholics).  We give prodigious loyalty long after it’s not warranted or deserved.  We’re hard wired to hang in there no matter how bad it gets.  We also tend to overachieve and become Type A personalities which can lead to other issues like stress induced cardiac problems.  Someday ask me about the heart attack I had underwater while on a shipwreck. It’s a great story.  It helps to explain why some of us aging confessional Lutherans hung on despite all we experienced, all we observed, all we came to understand about the trajectory of the ELCA. Undeserved loyalty.

Like many of his generation, my dad never talked about his experiences in WWII.  Later in life I came to know he was a medic in the European Theater and, through education and pastorally interacting with middle east deployed veterans, I have come to understand the impact PTSD has on them. I can only imagine the horrors my dad witnessed during his generation’s war, but as a child I didn’t understand why he drank so much, physically abused our mom and yelled at me and my sister.  With these ingredients properly measured and poured into the cauldron of development an ACOA was formed.

So brothers and sisters still inside, why are you still there and what are your hopes going forward?  My moment of decision to go was when, in 2018, the ELCA at their national youth gathering put a chemically and surgically mutilated child on stage and celebrated God’s handiwork in creating a trans child. And at that moment it was clear they were not my brothers and sisters and likely not disciples of Jesus either. The pull of loyalty was broken.  How about you?

Just over a year ago Christine and I found ourselves in Florence, South Carolina.  Nice place just off I-95, we found a fixer-upper on the little lake in town.  Pro tip: don’t buy a fixer-upper in your 60s.  You know you can do the work, but you don’t want to … except finding contractors in a small southern town you trust will bring you back to the pro tip of avoiding the original purchase.  But I digress.

 When people ask where Florence is, I mention South of the Border as you head to Florida.  We’re about 45 minutes south of there.  Or we’re 25 minutes south of the new Buc-ee’s travel center. Wasn’t looking to retire and move to SC, but then our daughter-in-law announced that our first grandchild was on the way.  Christine made clear: “I’ve followed you all over the country for your callings.  I have a calling to be a grandmother and that calling is in South Carolina.”  No way I was going to win that one, so I uttered the only Norwegian I’ve learned from her family, “Yes dear.”

Never moved before without a clear sense of call and certainly not to a place where the person cutting your hair asks if you’ve found a church, three different neighbors stop in and ask, the guy installing your new gutters inquires, the electrician who fixed something, the two fellows who encapsulated the crawlspace and the one other contractor we hired, the fellow who redid two of our bathrooms. 

In a place where everyone seems to be churched and asks where you attend what do I as a Lutheran have to offer?  As David Keener of the NALC likes to say, “We Lutherans are less dense here in the South” and the nearest NALC congregation is 50 minutes away.

Then I attended my second lunch time gathering of pastors who are part of Helping Florence Flourish (HFF). One of its priorities is supporting marriage and families.  OK, you have my attention. The pastor sitting across the table with his wife shared with me, “I fear my granddaughter will never meet a decent, Christian young man to marry.  We’ve lost all our young men and now many of them are just lost.”

At the prior gathering of this group the Director of HFF had pitched a vision for a marriage and family blessing gathering at a local park.  He didn’t have many details in place but lifted up the idea.  It was well and thoroughly embraced which had led to my lunch table conversation with a troubled pastor.

Perhaps someday I’ll share what I’ve found when poking around Luther and his passion for marriage, family, and especially the role of the household in faith formation. But that’s a story for another newsletter.

About a decade ago the last congregation I served embraced something called Faith 5, a process put forth by Lutheran Pastor Rich Melheim that led to a book entitled, “Let’s Kill Sunday School before it kills the church.”  Snappy, eh?  It is a simple, five step, 15-minute way of entering conversation as a household; sharing the pains and joys of the day, reading scripture, seeking ways the Word may speak to the highs and lows, praying for one another and ending with a blessing.  I mentioned this approach to the Director.  He’d never heard of it.  He ran it by one of his staff people.  I showed him an example of the bookmarks that go with the process.  He ordered a stack of them and told me “You’re up to present this to our gathering.”  OK then.

March 3^rd we met in the park.  Because I’m one of those Lutherans I brought along balm from Israel as I planned to anoint as well as pray and bless.  An elderly woman wept.  A young clergy couple spoke with me at length.  Another wants to talk to me about launching a ministry in the drug and prostitution corridor of Florence. I have an invitation to speak in a congregation. We Lutherans have a lot to offer even if we aren’t very dense.

“Alderaan? I’m not going to Alderaan. I’ve got to get home. It’s late. I’m in for it as it is.”

Name that movie.  Name that scene.  Anyone with even a passing interest in the Star Wars franchise knows this one. It’s a pivotal moment.  Obi Wan asks Luke to come along, inviting him on a journey. It’s the beginning of Luke’s heroic journey; it’s a term penned by Professor Joseph Campbell who traced such stories through history, all of which followed a certain pattern and all leading to a central task: prevailing against darkness. 

George Lucas conferred with Campbell while writing the first three movies of the series.  Maybe that’s why most aficionados consider them the best of the nine. I find it ironic that when I first saw that movie, I looked like the kid being given a light saber.  Now I’m the white-haired old guy saying, “Hey, come along this way…” and for what it’s worth Luke’s first response is basically, “No thanks old man, I’ve got to get home and work on some evaporators.” In short order Luke experiences the loss of his aunt and uncle, crosses the threshold of Yes and with Obi Wan goes down into the valley of the spaceport.  Lucas knew what he was about.  The imagery was subtle, but followed the ancient pattern, down into the valley of the shadow of death with an outcome unknown. 

At our August board meeting of Lutheran CORE, our executive director Dennis Nelson led us through a bible study on the trip to Caesarea Philippi and the question, “Who do people say the son of man is?” Dennis offered a quick survey of Simon’s response, a look at the meaning of being given the keys and what that might entail, and then an insight into the gates, the gates that will not prevail against the rock. Then Jesus gave Simon his new identity, role, and assurance, “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.”

The thing is that gates don’t take territory.  They don’t advance against an intruder.  They attempt to hold back an incursion.  Their role is to block that which is outside, like an opening in any good boundary regulates what can come in and what will go out.  Why can’t these gates prevail?  I sat there and soaked in that insight.  Of the many times I had explored that text, I asked who is Jesus in a pagan culture, what does it mean to be given the authority and therefore the power of the keys to bring life and the promise of forgiveness and eternal life?  What did it mean that Peter had a sufficiently robust relationship that he could endure the challenge of being compared to Satan and standing behind? And as our walk with Jesus becomes more personal, what does it mean that we find ourselves more open to being challenged in our brokenness and sin (sin that the Gospel may release)? And then Dennis brought up the idea of prevailing against the gates.  That invigorated a lively conversation around the table. 

What does it take to prevail against those gates, not merely hunker down and survive, but prevail?  Not in a militaristic sense, but certainly with a recognition that the church was founded to be movemental, to advance into new territory, to train and equip those who would bring the Gospel from Jerusalem, to Judea, to Samaria and all the ends of the earth.  How are we doing with that in our own contexts?  Were any of us trained to lead a movement?  Are we prevailing? Most of us were taught to preach, teach, bring comfort to the homebound and hospitalized, baptize the children, marry the silly romantics, bury the loved ones of the grieving. 

What if prevailing is more than that? In these times that often feel like we are traversing down into the valley of the shadow, what tools did we miss in seminary that we need for the journey? If you can find a copy of the book In The Valley of the Shadow by Hanns Lilje, it’s worth a read.  Lilje was a contemporary of Bonhoeffer—he survived his experience in the camps, later became a Bishop and wrote a catechism for adults.

Drawing from the disparate training of those on the Board, friends of CORE and others we will likely recruit, we are working on providing tasters on topics we didn’t learn in seminary.  During my brief stint as an assistant to the bishop in the ELCA’s Sierra Pacific Synod, I was called to manage first call theological education as part of a team for region 2.  Since I like to be data driven when it comes to providing training and support, I got all our first call pastors together, asked how it was going, and what do they think they missed?  I heard an earful.  So many things.  And that was twenty-five years ago. 

Since then, we’ve experienced the sexuality wars, the worship wars, the decline of Christianity numerically in the US, Covid, rising racial tensions, massive rejection of the faith by a younger generation (half of GenZ claiming to be agnostic or atheist)[i], family brokenness splashing out onto all the mediating structures of society including the church.  Etcetera. These tasters could be provided live on Zoom and recorded for later viewing.  We could interact via a social media platform as we figure out how to use what we’re learning.  Some of the topics being considered are:

1. visionary leadership, the power of casting a vision and how to do so
2. how to reach multiple cultures in our contexts including how to maintain core values amid an influx of new members
3. how to be a church that can reach new people, a look at everything from Celtic models to multi-generational faith formation
4. how to mobilize faith for mission and ministry within the congregation and in the mission field of their daily lives
5. managing conflict and boundaries
6. creating healthy staff teams
7. creating leadership pipelines for disciples who know how to make disciples, for small groups and missional communities
8. balancing personal life and strengthening the emotional side of pastoral life
9. worship, preaching and leading transitions to discipling culture church
10. developing a giving church and a church built on prayer

In the months ahead we will test a number of pilot offerings to see if we are on the right track.  If any of these topics are interesting to you, please let us know. If there are other areas of stress send us a note about that also.

The gates of hell shall not prevail “for lo! his doom is sure; one little word shall fell him.” All of us in leadership in the church heard the call, crossed into the journey, and now find ourselves on paths unknown to destinations unchartered.  May we do so while knowing that Jesus’ love is always supporting us, and his hand is guiding us. 

[i] https://www.aei.org/articles/perspective-why-even-secular-people-should-worry-about-gen-zs-lack-of-faith/#:~:text=Pew%20Research%20repeatedly%20found%20that,boomers%20and%20the%20Silent%20Generation.