Monthly Archives: February 2013

DO NOT JUDGE ME, WALK WITH ME: A Poem, by Tammy Barthels, M.Div. Middler

Do Not Judge Me, Walk With Me

Do not judge me because the cloths I wear are tattered and torn.
My cloths do not define me.
Walk with me.
Do not judge me because of the color of my skin.
We bleed the same color.
Walk with me.
Do not judge me because my culture and traditions are different than yours.
We can learn from each other.
Walk with me.
Do not judge me because my ways are not your ways, my thoughts not your thoughts.
Respect, Honor and Embrace Diversity.
Walk with me.
Do not judge me by your statistics.
Listen, and hear my story.
Walk with me.
Do not judge me because my life experiences are different than yours.
We both have something to offer.
Walk with me.
Do not judge me because I do not have a college degree.
I have gained wisdom; you have gained knowledge.
Walk with me.
Do not judge me for we were both created in the image of God.
Created Equal
Take me by the hand; let us walk this journey together.
Let us become transformed.
Walk with me.

THROUGH A DIFFERENT LENS: A Poem by Tammy Barthels, M.Div. Middler

Through a Different Lens

My lens is different from those around me,
I see beauty in the snow
While another sees frustration in the shoveling.
I see beauty in the spacious fields,
While others may see emptiness and desolation.
I see beauty in diversity.
Other people may want uniformity.
I see beauty, strength, and wisdom
in the worn, wrinkled faces of my elders.
Some may see only weakness, sorrow, and hopelessness
and merely pity their elders

Lord, help me understand the lenses others wear
Lord, give us all the courage to see the lens of your expansive view

 

PIPELINED by Mary Wiggins, M.Div. Middler

One of my mentors, someone very dear to me, my campus pastor, holds the theory that we aren’t fully adults until we are thirty; that young adulthood is a decade phase of liminality between the threshold of youth-hood and adulthood. In many ways I agree, considering I feel I have a lot of growing up to do and often I feel like I am constantly in-between. At twenty-three years old, a few months shy of my college graduation I felt a calling to pastoral ministry and by twenty-nine, I hope to be an ordained pastor. I am a part of the group of seminarians that used to be much larger, those that will be ordained or consecrated before the age of 30. I am going to be a young clergy person. So I ask the question “Is someone too young to go to seminary?”

There were several reasons why I began to explore this question, but none of them matter nearly as much as the question itself. Today, there are far fewer pipeliners in seminary than there used to be. Maybe part of it has to do with the times. Or it could be the encouragement of more second-career seminarians. Or maybe it is the strong persuasion to do anything else you possibly can, such as an old trend in some denominations to encourage candidates to live a little bit first.

So my answer, unsurprisingly, is, “No. I don’t think, within reason, that anyone is too young to go to seminary.” Yes, I still agree that most candidates should have a Bachelor’s degree first, even though many pipeliners feel called much earlier. And yes, I believe some pipeliners are developmentally less mature than others and are obliviously less developmentally mature than our older classmates. And yes, we have many challenges ahead of us, including amount of growth, issues in establishing our authority (both with parishioners and colleagues), and finding a witty yet tactful comeback to being questioned on our age on a regular basis.

But you see, despite all of this, we are called. God calls all types of people. And some of us may actually end up being called “the pastor that looks like she’s twelve.” We may grow beards, cut our hair short, buy more “grown up clothes” to establish authority, but we are called none-the-less. You see because it’s not entirely ourselves and the things we do that give us authority to pursue this calling and to be pastors. It is also the people to whom we minster. It is the college student taking to her mom on her cell phone on the way to a retreat who calls the Wartburg intern, her pastor. Or it’s the woman who called the CPE student, the chaplain. Or it is the man who asks the very green 25 year-old seminarian, “How long have you been in ministry?” and then pours out his heart. It is these people who recognize who we are and prove that no one is too young to go to seminary.

STAINED GLASS WINDOW by Mary Wiggins, M.Div. Middler

This reflection is one of four offered at the re-dedication of the central stained glass window in the Loehe Chapel at Wartburg Theological Seminary on 4 Feb. 2013.

Stained glass windows have always fascinated me. They are beautiful art regardless of how well known their maker is. There is something mystical about light mixed with color and steeped with symbolism and history. The windows are a beautiful interplay of the creation of people and the creation of our God. Their beauty changes with the turning of the day into something new. It’s something great to contemplate when sorting out deep emotions and discerning dense thoughts. Or something to just stare at when the mind is tired or the attention span is short. All in something as simple as a window. The window we welcome back today does that for us and even more. It is part of our life here. The image of Christ points outward beyond our view, symbolizing our formation.

I first glanced at the chapel window when I was discerning a call to ministry. I saw a photograph of the image on a computer screen of my friend’s Macbook. It was strikingly beautiful even in its 8 by 10 inch form. What was more strikingly beautiful was how this image was the reminder of this place that my friend took with her way out west for her internship. Such love and passion for this place, Wartburg, was represented in the image she saw almost every day in her life in this place.

I myself soon saw the window in person as my discernment lead to a “GO and start visiting seminary and see if the time is right.” This window plays an important part in our life at Wartburg even before we become a part of this place. As a community that worships together daily, the chapel window’s image is ingrained in our experience, just as much as the other elements of the community in which we live.

The image of Christ summoning the disciples is our past

It is our present now here at Wartburg

Ultimately it is our future as we will eventually leave this place.

We will all “Go” and we will proclaim regardless of our degree track. Our callings to discern and embody our vocations lead us here. And this window upon which many a student has gazed during worship epitomizes our experience. We heed God’s call, pick up our lives and “GO” to Wartburg.

In our life here at Wartburg we pick up and “GO” quite often. We “GO” on J-term trips near and abroad with some of us proclaiming in words and others in actions of service and learning. We “GO” on CPE and proclaim the Gospel as the listening chaplain offering comforting presence and sometimes words to those in crisis that we meet. We “GO” on field work and internship and proclaim the Gospel. Each time we return again to this place. And eventually we all GO to Preach the Good News as the leaders that we have been formed to be.

GEHET HIN UND PREDIGT DAS EVANGELIUM By Rev. Jan Rippentrop, WTS Guest Professor of Preaching

This reflection is one of four offered at the re-dedication of the central stained glass window in the Loehe Chapel at Wartburg Theological Seminary on 4 Feb. 2013.

This phrase holds a privileged place in our midst as it maintains a significance in our worship space.
In one moment as backdrop to the elliptical centers of our worship life
(Word and sacrament)
In another moment as focus of our pondering attention
It is privileged in our space
As focus
As background
As constant
A space where we practice ways of peace
That gathering in prayer for the nations here might
translate into ministry that mourns the hoarding of
resources and celebrates the tearing down of walls
A space in which our feet, our hands, our brows
Have worn to lustrous the path to the table
And what is the impact of this phrase as it presides over these and more worshipping acts?
Whether you read German or not, this bannerrolle has been bodying
this window forth.
A banderole is the way that art, classically, marks a quotation
So, this window claims that Jesus has been speaking in
our midst all of these days
And we interpret and are interpreted by Christ’s words

So, Jesus is addressing our community day by day…with proclamation:
“Gehet hin und predigt das Evangelium”
(Go forth and preach the Good News)
Go forth—there’s no becoming stagnant in this space
This space where we gather, and gather, and gather
For baptisms, for weddings, for ordinary time
Paradoxically, this space that gathers us,
Gathers us, not to make us insular
But to face us out
Toward first calls
Toward field work and internships
Toward CPE

So, gehet hin
There is a semester ahead of us
With ideas as yet unpacked
Practices not yet familiar
And conversations waiting in the wings
And with the spirited movement that winged Jesus from the Jordan to the Wadi
With that spirited movement get gehet hin
For the Spirit that makes Christ known in the gospel preached
Is the Spirit who beckons you, gehet hin.

“THE BIKE RIDE”: A POEM by Carina Schiltz, MDiv student

AUTHOR MINI-BIO: Carina was inspired to write this poem by her work at a local elementary school.

“The Bike Ride”

Dearest child who cried today:

I can’t tell you your life is going to be better.

When your mom came and rode away with you on the bike
all I could think about while you sobbed was
the air flowing in and out of your lungs
as the sobs built to a wail
rolling over all who heard it
but tried so hard not to.

I have no idea how she balanced you
or balances her life–
her reality.

I live in utter privilege
and it makes me sick that I cannot escape it.
Instead I add to it; I encourage it
I bow down in homage to it.
I am bound to it and it separates me from you–
your reality

How I wish I could duck my shoulder
and crash into that barrier
pulverizing it; shattering it into something smaller:
perhaps a mirror where I could see you in me
and I in you–
but sin prevents us; society prevents us; I prevent us.

You have challenges ahead of you I cannot begin to imagine
and you are five.

You cannot even zip up your own winter coat yet.
As I helped you today your huge eyes bored into mine.
Will you remember tomorrow?
Will I?
Will we remember that my eyes looked at you in love?

Your braids bounce against your face as you run and play tag.
Even during the game your countenance is so solemn.
I hardly see you laugh or smile.

Once in awhile–how my heart flips when I see it–
your face breaks open to reveal that you are still a child
still find wonder
still grasp the joy of realizing that somehow,
life
is
good

But today,
your face crumpled instead.

You instantly start to cry when your mother
does her best
to transport you from here to your home in 25 degree weather
driving a bicycle and clutching you to her through the dark streets:
I curse my own warm, empty car.

How hollow is my drive home
as I imagine your tears freezing to your face
on your night journey past neon-lit bars
and vacant front porches.

How universal is your story?

I pray you rest well tonight;
that someone tucks you in
tells you they love you that you are important
that you can change the world.

You changed mine.

BOOK REVIEW: HALF THE SKY by Carina Schiltz, MDiv student

Book Review: Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn

This book is critical for all people to read, especially those in church leadership. The least of these, whose voices are so often ignored, have a chance to be heard through the pages of this book.

This book had such a strong impact on me that I had to read it in small sections. Husband-and-wife, Pulitzer-prize-winning authors confront readers with inspirational, incredible, and terrible stories about women’s realities around the world.

Imagine yourself as a young girl from a developing country growing up in an impoverished family.

Your cousin promises you will have a job as a fruit seller in a neighboring country.

Leaping at the change to support your family, you go with your cousin, but instead of selling fruit, you are sold to a brothel, drugged when you refuse “paying customers” and eventually become so addicted to methamphetamines that even if you are freed, you go back because you need the high.

This is only one gut-wrenching story that Kristof and WuDunn report. How do we continue reading something that is so full of despair? It seems easier to put the book on the shelf, but we cannot.

Out of horrible, unimaginable situations, women and men around the world have risen to combat injustices that women experience in developing countries. The dangers resulting from being sold into prostitution: rape, childbirth, lack of medical care, and neglect, are all explained in a straightforward but humane way. The book not only offers a look at individual lives, but what individuals, countries and the world have done and should do in the face of injustice toward girls and women.

What can be done? The authors touch on everything from microfinance to iodization of salt to education, including “Four Steps You Can Take in the Next Ten Minutes.”

This book is not about finger-pointing and blaming, but facing issues head-on, realistically yet hopefully. Authors call for bi-partisan cooperation to advocate for the care, health and well-being of women around the world, so that, as the Chinese proverb says, women will hold up half the sky.

Chock-full of information, I no doubt will be reading this book again.