Weed Be (Not) Gone

Fifth Sunday After Pentecost A
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

The big controversy earlier this year was over the release of Rob Bell's book, Love Wins. I haven't read the book yet, but I did read many blog post about the concept of hell. Did it exist? Does it matter?

The arguments were fast and furious. No matter the side people took, they all reminded me of a nasty habit I have of taking a book I'm reading and peeking at the end of the novel to see how things end.

I think Christians want to look at the end of the Story and see how it ends. We want to write the ending and decide who gets a happy ending and who doesn't.

Which is why the parables of the wheat and tares is so fascinating. The workers in the field are upset that an enemy has planted weeds among the wheat. They want nothing more than to remove the weeds. As someone that tries to garden, I can understand the desire to remove weeds from a garden. But the owner of the land decides to let the weeds and wheat grow together until harvest time when the weeds will be burned. He is concerned that the desire to remove the weeds will hurt the wheat, so better to wait until harvest time.

It's natural to think that this story is about good and bad people and that the bad people will go to hell. It very well might be what Jesus is getting at. But notice that now is not the time to pull out weeds. Now is the time to let them grow together.

The parable is a reminder that we don't know the end of the story. We don't know who is wheat an who is a weed. We also are unaware of the parts of us that are "weed" the part that turns away from God and the part that is "wheat" that seeks to follow and be Jesus to those we encounter.

The Church is filled with stories of people trying to root out weeds. The problem is that we end up pulling up the wheat as well and end up messing up God's garden.

As we head to church this weekend, let us remember that we don't know the end of the story. We aren't called to determine the fate of our sisters and brothers. We are called to tend to the field, care for both wheat and tare and leave the end result to God.

Go and be church.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Better Living Through Grace

Fourth Sunday After Pentecost A
Matthew 13:1-23

As a kid, I would love going to garden shops. I remember there was an old Frank's Nursery not far from my house and I'd love to into the garden area and take in all the sights, sounds and smells. To this day, I have a great fondness for going into the garden areas of a Home Depot or Lowe's.

With this love comes a bit of heartache, because I'm not a good gardener.

It's not like I try. I will go to a store and by some plants and I try to water them as often as possible and they end up looking like I had done nothing to them. The brown thumb strikes again.

Last year was like previous years, I had bought a few plants and took care of them. I gave them plant food, checked all the proper websites on how to take care of prennials and still the plants looked like...well, it's another word for fertilizer.

But this spring, something happened: I started to see green shoots. I realized that even though I thought I did a terrible job taking care of plants, here were several examples of growth. Through spring and into summer, the plants have grown and some have even bloomed. It seems like in spite of what I've done, these plants grew into visions of beauty.

When I realized that this Sunday was the Sunday of the Parable of the Sower, I started looking at past sermons. I remember preaching a sermon six years ago about how I started to look at this parable from Jesus differently. You see, this story was one of my least favorite and I'm someone that loves the Parables of Jesus. It puts me back in college, where my campus pastor would talk about what kind of soil we are and how we need to be good soil. The passage always left me with sadness, because I thought I could never measure up.

I will let my younger self take it from there. Here's part of the sermon I preached on July 10, 2005:

Today’s gospel text is about a sower who throws his seed hither and yon, landing on different types of soil. We then see how the soil takes to the seed. There are some good results and some bad results. Now when I was younger, I remember how the pastor or teacher would focus on all the different soils. We would spend time figuring out how the different soils related to the spiritual temperment of the different people. Some people worried to much, some didn’t take the good news seriously and some were good adherents of the Word. The message here was that we needed to be good soil and work on not being bad soil to God’s word. For some reason, I can remember how I felt when we talked about this passage. There was a sense of dread. I mean, how could I ever be good soil? There was no way that I could be that perfect. I’m going to be honest with you: I didn’t want to even preach from this text today for the same reason.

Then I started to think about something. This is called the parable of the Sower, but we never really talk about this sower, who is God. We talk about us, but God gets the short shrift. Has anyone wondered just how incredibly wasteful a sower God is? I mean he is just throwing seeds everywhere, without any regards as to whether the seed grows or not. I know there are a lot of gardeners among us this evening and I know many of you would never, never do this. I mean, if we saw someone throwing seeds everywhere, on the lawn, on the sidewalk, on the parking lot, we would wonder about the wisdom of this person. And yet that is what God does. For those of you who come from farmer backgrounds, you know that seed is precious. A farmer takes care of their crops so that they can have a plentiful harvest. The farmer in this story was probably considered a poor, tenant farmer who has to have a good return to feed his family. Now with all this substandard farming practice, throwing seeds wherever they may go, you would probably think that this farmer would get a poor return.

You would be wrong.

The seeds that did fall on good soil produced a harvest beyond anyone’s expectations.

So what was Jesus getting at here? Well, it’s that God’s love is extravagant. It seems wasteful to some, showing love to those who might not love back. It seems even dangerous to others, showing love to those who are different or who are our enemies. Why would God waste God’s time on such people?

That is the message here. We all receive God’s love, no matter if we are deserving or not. Yes, some will ignore God’s love. But that’s not the issue; what’s important is that God gives love to everyone.

This message of extravagant abundance is out of place for us because we live in a world defined by scarcity. If you’ve filled up for gas recently, then you have some idea of what I’m talking about. If you are like me, then you’ve probably set up an IRA and/or 401k to prepare for retirement, again, because money is scarce and because Social Security can’t fund all of our golden years.

We live in a world where resources are scarce. That’s a reality. What is sad is that we allow this valid principle to seep into our faith. Love becomes conditional and limited. Followers of Christ decide who is worthy of God’s love and who is not. We open our churches to those who are acceptable and close it to those who are not. Better to now waste our precious seed on “bad soil.”

But while scarcity is an important part of the science of Economics, it has no place in faith. God’s love is abundant and is freely given to all-good and bad. In Isaiah 55, we are given a clue to God’s abundance when the prophet proclaims that all who are hungry and all who are thirsty can come to God. Don’t worry about money; because God will take care of you.

My prior understanding of this text was one where I had to do all the work. Be a “good Christian” and the seed planted within will grow. That is a gospel of works, of trying to do good things so that God will like you. The thing is, none of us will always be good soil. We are human; we sin. We are tempted by the things of the world. We worry about the future. There are always “weeds” that will interfere with our seeds.

But if this parable is about God, then it doesn’t matter as much about my condition. Through the good times and bad, God’s love is always present. In times when I’m a wonderful garden and in times when I’m a weed infested backlot, God always love me.

And that is how God’s people should be. Let us go out and love the world regardless of how good or bad people are. Let us throw open our churches and our hearts to people.

It's easy to look at this story and see it as a moral about how we have to be "good Christians." The problem is that as Russell Rathburn has said, that makes this story a tale about "works-righteousness" instead of the wonderful grace of God.

This might be a "low Sunday" for your congregation as many folks are on the highways and byways. But I hope you still take the care and the time to communicate the awesome love of God to those who do make it to church. If you look out into your congregation, there are probably a lot of folks feeling a lot of guilt. Maybe some of it is well-deserved, maybe some of it isn't. Either way, they also need to know that they are loved, loved by a God that loves extravagantly.

I always end this with my tagline "Go and be church." I mean that. Go and show people your love. Go in the power of the Spirit and love wastefully. Some of the seeds won't grow, and some will produce a bumper crop. The results don't matter as much as we show love...as we are loved by a big, lovable and relentless God.

Go and be church.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Take A Walk on the Wild Side

Second Sunday After Pentecost A
Genesis 22:1-18

After these things God tested Abraham. He said to him, ‘Abraham!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’ 2He said, ‘Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt-offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you.’
-Genesis 22:1-2

Take your son. Your only son, Issac. Whom. You. Love.

When I was younger, I remember hearing this story and being told this was a percursor to what would happen later in the New Testament where Christ as God's son became the sacrifice that set us free.

These days, I tend to focus on the whole concept of Abraham taking his son to be the sacrifice. It's something that makes you uncomfortable. To a modern reader like myself, it just seems wrong for Abe to even think that God would even request such a horrible thing. There is a temptation to just ignore this passage, frame it was one of those terrible "texts of terror" and just move on to a more pleasant text.

But the thing is, as unsettling as this story is, there is something here for us to learn about faith and about walking in faith.

The thing that is amazing (and disturbing) is that Abraham had faith in God.  He does what he has always done when God calls- respond.  He sets out to the place God tells him to go to with Issac.  He continues to believe God will provide and is ready and willing to raise the knife to slaughter his own son because he had faith in God.

Rick Morely tries to show how faith isn't as neat and tidy as we would like it to be- indeed, sometimes it can seem quite bizarre:

This story raises so many questions. Big questions. Questions about the kind of God that would ask this. About the kind of father who would hear this Voice in his head and follow it.

If this happened today Abraham would be arrested.

I think the ugly, tortured nature of this story was meant to be. I also think that there aren't any good answers to the hard questions that this story raises.

Because while this is an ugly story, it's really not about the ugliness. It's about the faith of Abraham who was willing to do whatever God asked him to to. For him there was no limit. And, it's about the faithfulness of God who ultimately provides, and which turns a tragic story a little less tragic.

The Akedah is one of those chapters of the Bible which reminds us all too well that we don't have a neat and tidy little religion that is country-club respectable in all ways at all times. 

Faith in God is always an odd thing.  I don't think it will lead these days to attempted murder, but it might lead us to places we never expected to be and doing things we never dreamed of doing.  This passage reminds us that the God we serve is not a safe God.  We follow a loving God and a good God, but never a safe God.

We also have to remember that faith is not simply following certain beliefs, but instead about trust.  We place our trust in God and that trust is lived out in our daily lives.  Rabbi David Ackerman sums this up nicely:

In Jewish culture, Avraham Avinu is the original "walking man." Two words bespeak this central motif of Abraham's life. Lekh l'kha, "Go forth," (or as I prefer, "Go take a hike," which I'll explain in a moment) is of course the divine command that begins Abraham's saga. The same phrase recurs in Parashat Va-yera as part of the demand that Abraham offer up his son Isaac as a sacrifice. Between those two imperatives to go take a hike, Abraham spends a lot of time on the road. Momentously, he leaves his homeland and his father's house in search of a new, and not precisely identified, land. He migrates to Egypt in response to a famine and returns only to take to the battlefield, just one of a series of adventures that keep him continually away from home. Abraham's peripatetic nature gives rise to a great deal of commentary down through the centuries, some favorable, some not...

Aviva Zornberg brilliantly describes Abraham's journeying as suggestive of "the full paradox of a vital quest, enacted in empirical randomness." He may not know exactly where he is headed, but he understands full well why he's headed there. And in this regard, Abraham is all of us; our lives in so many ways follow the same trajectory of purposeful, personal journeys, undertaken in unreliable circumstances, in search of uncertain results. And yet, we continue to walk...

Heschel's famous claim that marching for civil rights in Selma constituted "praying with his feet" is the direct descendent of this Hasidic ideal. We walk in search of opportunities to serve God, to improve the world, and thereby to worship.

I do think when we are called by God we are called to take a walk on the wild side, to quote Lou Reed.  It is a journey that doesn't always make sense, but it is a journey where we will meet God and be changed.  It won't be all tied up with a bow on top, but it will provide in ways we can't imagine.  We have faith in God and God has faith in us.

I don't have an easy suggestion for you all for the coming Sunday.  This passage wasn't made for that.  But I do ask that you look at the text a few times and ask your congregations to struggle with this passage.  Remind them that trusting God isn't easy or simple.  But also let them know this walk with God will not be boring.

Go and be church.

Illustration: Sacrifice of Isaac by Marc Chagall. Musee Nationaux Alpes-Maritimes (Nice).

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Go.

Trinity Sunday A
Matthew 28:16-20

The last few verses of the book of Matthew, which is commonly called The Great Commission, is a passage I am very familiar with. I remember it from my youth. The thrust of the passage back them was pretty simple. Go share the gospel with others. I remember learning ways you could help your friends and neighbors become Christians, methods like the Four Spiritual laws. I know back then I wanted to evangelize and tell others about the good news of Christ. But I also felt a bit odd about it. I didn't feel comfortable doing it. I knew it was important, but I just didn't know how to say the words to another person.

As I grew into adulthood and away from my evangelical upbringing, I struggled with this passage. What did it mean to me now? Did it mean trying to tell someone the "Romans Road" to salvation, or did it mean something else? Should we just ignore the text?

For some reason, I couldn't ignore the text. It was there staring at me.

This Sunday, many pastors might be tempted to just skip this passage. Mainline Protestants don't feel as comfortable about sharing their faith in the way that evangelicals do and this passage is a reminder of all that they might not be comfortable with. That, and some remind us of a more darker interpretation- the abuse of this passage to conquer other peoples. Michael Danner sums up all that makes people feel very queasy about The Great Commission:

...what reference point do we use when we define those words? Do we let the life and teaching of Jesus inform what it means to “go” and “make”? Or do we let something or someone else define what it means to “go” and “make”? This makes a huge difference.

If we let Jesus inform what it means to “go” and “make” it leads to humble service, drenched in love and grace, that seeks restoration and freedom for any and all that we encounter. It leads to story telling and wine sharing and bread eating. It leads to healing and hope.

Other kinds of “going” and “making” are markedly different. Some people “go” and “make” in ways that are manipulative, coercive or, even, violent. Others “go” and “make” in ways that seek to replicate their own beliefs in others. Still others “go” and “make” using fear, anger, guilt and shame. And, still others go and make in ways that make themselves feet better but, in reality, they do little to engage hurting people in a hurtful world.

I can't deny that a lot of bad things have been done in God's name. Cross has sometimes followed Flag in the taking of other lands and the subjegation of other peoples.

But just because others have really, really botched the understanding of the passage doesn't mean we should just ignore these words. In Matthew's version of the story of Jesus, these are the last words that Jesus says to his disciples. It's a farewell to his friends, and final words like that carry some weight.

The word "go" keeps buzzing around in my head. Jesus says to go and make disciples. Matthew was clear how that was to be done, which is what frustrates Danner. Some have used force to try to spread the faith, but I don't think this is what Jesus had in mind.

When I think about going and making disciples, I think of my friend Jim. Jim is my age and like me, is gay. For a long time, he stayed away from church because he didn't feel that a community would accept him for who he was. We met when I was attempting to plant a church. He was able to find a place where he could commune with God and others. I can't remember doing anything special other than being who I was in my faith. But Jim has told me that something did happen. He was able to see Jesus in the hospitality shown by myself and others in our small community.

Maybe this is what is meant by "go." Go and live our lives, lives filled with grace and a living witness of Jesus Christ.

As communities gather this Sunday, let's learn what it means to share our faith. I don't think it's about Spiritual Laws or Roman Roads, but I do think it is about sharing our lives with others, sharing enough that they can see Jesus.

Go and be church.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Pentecost Is A Question

Pentecost A
Numbers 11:24-30
Acts 2:1-21

When I first started serving at First Christian, there was no children's ministry at all.  None.  Over the years of dealing with declining membership, a large physical plant to maintain and a host of other issues taking care of the little ones came last.

That didn't set well with one of the members.  She has always loved being with children and was mad that nothing was going on.  As she recounts the story, she was complaining to me about why no one was doing anything about this and I responded, "So what are you going to do about it?"

It was after my moment of frankness that she started a children's program at the congregation, which in many cases was instrumental in helping the church revive itself.

Coming into Pentecost, I looked forward to this Sunday with both excitement and boredom. I love Pentecost because its such a joyous holiday, a time when pastors and worship leaders get to do something a bit different. I love that we get to wear red and usually the sanctuary is festooned with bright shades of red.

On the other hand, we tend to hear the same Pentecost text over and over again. At first blush, I wanted to just skip this text. It's been so overdone. David Lose kind of captures the "boredom" of the text:

Honestly, I suspect that we've heard the story of the wind and the tongues-of-flame and the dove and the crowds-hearing-the-sermon-in-their-own-languages just enough to believe that the promise of Pentecost is deliverance, celebration, victory, and strength. The signs of Pentecost, after all, are mighty. And what is the Holy Spirit if it is not God's own agent – the very Spirit of the resurrected Jesus – now on earth to accompany us with signs of wonder and power.

However, as the week progressed, this text kept coming back to me. I can't really describe why I am attracted to this text, again, but I am.

I think some of the points to consider as we re-read this text again is how disruptive the Spirit is. I don't think we realize just how much the Spirit turns the lives of the disciples of Jesus upside down. Look at what Peter starts talking about in this passage:

“In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.
18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
and they shall prophesy.
19 And I will show portents in the heaven above
and signs on the earth below,
blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
20 The sun shall be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood,
before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
21 Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

None of this sounds safe, does it?

Looking at the text from Numbers, we see that the Spirit touches some people who weren't authorized to be prophets. Joshua thinks something needs to be done to stop these people who were not accredited from prophesying. But Moses tells Josh to put a sock in it. "Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit on them!” he says.

Pentecost is in many ways a question.  We are asked to look back to see all the mighty deeds that God has done for God's people, to see how Jesus showed us God's love in his life, death and resurrection and to see the Holy Spirit descend in wind and flame.  We are asked to see all of this and ask, "So what are you going to do about it?"


As we worship in our churches this weekend, as preachers prepare to preach yet another sermon on the Acts text, we might want to ask our congregations the same question.  "So, what are you going to do about it?"

The "so what" for the disciples was that they started telling the story of Jesus all over the known world.  They didn't go back to their old lives, but forged ahead, being empowered and led by the Spirit to some new territory.

The wind, fire and the speaking of different languages is a pointed question to us.  What does all of this mean to you?  Does it affect you?  Does it change your life?

David Lose references one of my favorite political columnists, David Brooks, who wrote a worthwhile essay recently to today's college grads.  He told them to give up the recent obsession in our society to focus on the self, and to live for others:

Most successful young people don’t look inside and then plan a life. They look outside and find a problem, which summons their life. A relative suffers from Alzheimer’s and a young woman feels called to help cure that disease. A young man works under a miserable boss and must develop management skills so his department can function. Another young woman finds herself confronted by an opportunity she never thought of in a job category she never imagined. This wasn’t in her plans, but this is where she can make her contribution.

Most people don’t form a self and then lead a life. They are called by a problem, and the self is constructed gradually by their calling.

As Christians our lives are shaped by a calling; a calling from God, exemplified by Jesus and sent by the Holy Spirit. It is when we serve others, teaching children about God or befriending a person battling addiction that is when we begin to answer the question that is Pentecost, it when we do something about life in response to all the amazing acts God has done for us. For all of us.

So, what are you going to do about it?

Go and be church.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

We Are the World

Sixth Sunday of Easter A
John 14:15-21

15”If you love me, you will keep my commandments. 16And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. 17This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.

When you read this passage, it's easy to think that Jesus is talking about those special people in his life. Jesus is talking to his disciples, continuing this long farewell speech that started in John 13. In this passage, he tells the disciples that they will recieve the Spirit, something the world can't recieve because they don't know Jesus.

It's easy to hear this passage and think not just think Jesus is speaking to his disciples, but that he is speaking to us, the present-day disciples who want to follow Jesus. It's also easy to think that we have some special knowledge that the rest of the world doesn't have. We have access to the Spirit, something the rest of those poor suckers don't have.

Only, the disciples didn't quite get it, did they? Peter denied Jesus, Judas betrayed him and the rest basically took off at the very moment Jesus needed them. Even as Jesus is speaking to them about being given the Spirit, they were like the rest of the world in not knowing who Jesus was.

What should dawn on us is that the disciples, both then and now are also part of the world, the world that denies and ignores Jesus. We are the world.

This passage reveals that those who profess to follow Jesus can be just as blind as everyone else. It reminds us that we are as the old saying goes, simply "sinners by grace."

As we stand in our pulpits or sit in the pews this Sunday, we should remember that we don't always "get Jesus." Like the disciples of old, we can be see Jesus right in front of us and yet not see Jesus- choosing to live as if God didn't exist.

But while that is part of the message here this week, thank God it isn't the whole message. Jesus starts this passage by saying that if we love him we will keep his commandments. It all goes back to relationship. We place our trust in Jesus. We love Jesus and we show our love by keeping his commandments- even though we will mess up.

Maybe it's not accidental that we have this text on Memorial Day weekend, a time when we remember those who gave their lives serving their country. These folks showed their love of country by serving and giving the ultimate sacrifice. The servicemen and women who died serving showed fidelity- an ongoing relationship with their nation. Likewise, we are called to fidelity with Christ, an ongoing relationship where we show our love in keeping his commandments- loving our neighbor, welcoming the outcast and loving even the enemy. We do this as imperfect disciples who sometimes don't understand Jesus, but still going on serving in Jesus name.

Go and be church.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

For You, But Not About You

Fifth Sunday of Easter A
John 14:1-14

The gospel for this coming Sunday is not the easiest to understand. This part of Christ's farewell discourse, which spans four chapters in John; chapters 13 through 17. In chapter 14 he talks about mansions and being the way. None of it makes a lot of sense to his disciples. The first three verses are truly opaque but at the same time familiar:

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. 2In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? 3And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.

The verses are used a lot during funerals. They sense a future hope, a sense that God in Christ is creating a place for us- heaven. Could this passage give us some comfort, that no matter how hard life might be, we have this dream of being with God in every sense imaginable?

But as Rick Morley notes this passage can bother folks because it seems too much about us:

I have to say though, that this is not one of the passages of Jesus' teachings that speaks readily to me. Not because I'm uncomfortable with Jesus' sentiments here, but because I'm uncomfortable with the all-too-typical-take on them.

 I get uncomfortable with any version of our faith which turns Christianity into something that's all about us. There are far too many teachings on Jesus, salvation, and Heaven, which remake Christianity into a narcissistic cult. And that's the very opposite of the kind of faith that Jesus presents and compels us to follow.

The faith, as Jesus taught it, is all about us loving God and our neighbor. It's an outwardly focused faith, which pushes us to look around and find people to love, and a God to adore.

If we stopped at the first three verses, I would totally agree with Rick. But there is much more to this passage. Yes, we are promised a future with God, but there is work to do now. Look at verse twelve:

12Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father.

The one who believes...a moment here. What does the word "believe" mean. Well, you should know that it doesn't mean following certain dogma. No, the greek word for "believe" is pistis, which is also the word for faith and trust. So, the one who places their trust, their faith in Jesus will also do what Jesus did, preach the Word of God, heal the sick and feed the hungry. Chapter 14 is for you and for me, but it surely is NOT about us. We are assured to be with God now and in the future, but we are also called to do God's work in the world. Tripp Hudgins has some great thoughts about how this passage, this talk of mansions is a now and not yet kind of deal:

when we read Revelation and take Jesus’ worldly ministry seriously, I see that the Kingdom of God is here, now, with us, always lighting the way to God. It’s not some netherworld that we cannot reach without magical map making from the Messiah. Jesus is the map. His life, his very fleshy and challenging life is the way to the dwelling that we each have in God’s house, in this City of God.

House. City. Land. Kingdom. No matter what the metaphor, we know it’s a place, a recognizable place. The trouble is that our relationships with these places are often so polluted that, like Thomas, we cannot even begin to imagine that God’s dwelling might actually be a house, a city, a land, or a kingdom. And most of us cannot imagine that there’s room for everyone.

The thing is, Jesus is the dwelling place, Jesus is our home and in Jesus there is room enough for everyone.

Thanks be to God.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.