“Failing” sabbatical

by Bishop Bill Gohl

“Live in love” – Ephesians 5:2a

No fewer than thirty people have told me that I “failed” my sabbatical this summer. I was in too many places, attending to too much church stuff. While I don’t think I necessarily failed in appreciating the gift of Sabbath, I am keenly aware that I did not “go off the grid” or “disappear” especially well. To be candid, I probably worked about a third of my sabbatical time, but, that also means I did take about two-thirds of the time for more Sabbatarian pursuits. From the time Synod Assembly ended until September 10, I only entered the synod office on three occasions – mostly in the dark of night – to sign corporate documents that couldn’t wait until my return (and, on all three occasions, I was locked out of the restroom, which was being renovated, and for whose passcodes were changed multiple times. I assure you, those trips to the office were brief!).

I enjoyed not going to work, committee meetings, council meetings, call committee meetings and meetings about how to reduce the number of meetings! I kept to my pericope study for the sheer joy of Bible study. I walked at least a mile most days and cleared a goal of an extra 100 miles for the time away. I did some much-needed home improvements (though not the siding, it was too close to the electrical lines feeding our home). I swam. We went camping. I spent quality time with Arwyn and our kids. I road-tripped, visiting friends in New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Ohio, Illinois, and Pennsylvania.

I did preach for two friends’ anniversaries. I baptized three children, including a set of twins born on my birthday. I conferred the Church’s gift of Ordination for two outstanding pastors of the church. I took Spanish language lessons. I attended the African Descent Lutheran Association Assembly. I went to Churchwide Assembly, kept a commitment to present to the Assembly, and then left early! I played the piano and the organ enough to brush up some skills that were fading fast. I sat in many others’ pews, including historic African descent congregations throughout our synod. And, when I was approached about anything I didn’t want to do, I shrugged my shoulders and suggested that the person might best talk to Bishop Burkat or Pastor Geleta. If I am being especially truthful, that may have been my favorite part of this holy time away!

The activity that I was most roundly criticized for tending to during this sabbatical time was the month that I spent as Acting Pastor of St. Paul’s (Newark) while their pastor was on a teaching/learning trip to Italy. That time was arranged well in advance and was, by design, part of the “renewal” piece of the sabbatical purpose. After three years of tending the work of this call as Bishop of the Delaware-Maryland Synod, I was intentional about wanting to return to a community in a congregation-based pastoral role. For three years, my preaching has been that of a “one-shot wonder;” at St. Paul’s I had the privilege of preaching for the same community four weeks in a row. Most of you know that, as Bishop, I have one children’s sermon that I repeat nearly everywhere I go; at St. Paul’s I had to come up with new material three times (the last week, I did my “bishop children’s sermon” in reverse!). I visited the hospital, brought communion to the homebound, assisted with the midweek children’s program, went to the Wilmington pericope Bible study. I was wined and dined by parishioners. I received cards and drawings from children. I witnessed the return of the University of Delaware community for the new semester. I cleaned a few bathrooms and even patched a pothole in the church parking lot. I laid hands and offered prayers for healing. I baptized a new member of the congregation and disciple of Jesus. I attended marvelous staff meetings with, frankly, a marvelous staff. Perhaps, best of all, I got to lead a weekly Bible study – quite possibly the thing I miss most about parish ministry. That time was a holy gift, and even Arwyn and my kids recognized the good things it did in me and for me as part of this sabbatical journey.

There are three key things that I learned from my sabbatical time:

+ Pastors and deacons, when they are able, should take as much of their annual vacation in one large chunk, as they are able to manage. There is a considerable lag on coming down off of one’s work, and an extended vacation gives some space for that downtime to be quality time. The pastors of my own childhood, and perhaps some of yours, modeled this by taking either the whole of July or August off each year. My intent is to reclaim this practice for the next years, as well.

+ There was tremendous value for me and for our synod in spending a month with a congregation to gift another pastor with a significant break at no cost to the congregation. I intend to confer with our Mutual Ministry team and our Synod Council about offering to do this again in the future. It builds goodwill and more closely connects me and our synod office to a particular part of our synod’s territory.

+ Finally, though I often describe myself as a “temporarily misassigned parish pastor,” I came away from both the sabbatical and St. Paul’s with tremendous new energy for the work you have called me to and this partnership we share. I recognized in the joy of parish work the reflected joy of this work that we do together as bishop and synod, pastor and people. I came away from this sabbatical time with a renewed sense of call to this ministry as pastor to our synod.

Perhaps I did, in fact, “fail sabbatical” and I certainly wouldn’t lift up my sabbatical method as being the model for pastors and deacons under call to our congregations and agencies. Still, sabbatical did not fail me, and for that and this gift you gave me, I am grateful.

“Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” -Ephesians 5.1-2

Honoring, celebrating, and supporting Baltimore

The following statement, collaboratively authored by our synod’s Lutheran Office on Public Policy for Maryland, Acting Bishop Claire Burkat, and Bishop Bill Gohl (who is presently on sabbatical), was sent to members of the press throughout Maryland earlier today. You can download the press release here. Bishop Gohl also joined ten other ecumenical leaders from Maryland in signing a letter to President Donald Trump regarding recent comments made about Maryland’s 7th District. You can find that letter here.

The Lutheran spiritual tradition was established in what became Baltimore City, and then its neighboring regions, by 1755. We have lived, served, worshipped and prayed here ever since. The Delaware-Maryland Synod is one of three Maryland expressions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America in the state. The Baltimore region is within our territory.

Our greater Baltimore spiritual community encourages civic engagement, advocates in international, national, state, and local contexts, teaches support for lawful government, prays for civic leaders, regards responsible citizenship as a religious calling, and provides human services, creation care, and education opportunities to people regardless of creed or status.

The people and places of the 7th Congressional District of Maryland are being seriously disparaged. As people of faith and good will toward all, we are dismayed by this recent senseless and mean-spirited characterization. The ELCA has congregations throughout the Maryland 7th. This District includes locations such as Columbia, Ellicott City, Sparks, and Phoenix. We serve the marginalized and neglected, as well as the prosperous and thriving communities in Baltimore City, Baltimore County, and Howard County. Our communities in the 7th represent varied ethnicities, races, generations, faith traditions, enterprises and public institutions. We are a miniature arena of the entire United States, diverse as to circumstance, advantage, need, and culture; we encompass all the current challenges in American public life. Our diversity is our strength and a gift from God. We are Baltimore.

“We believe equitable and just public arrangements are possible and socially preferable. Disinvestment and discrimination can be changed with thoughtful public service, democratic process, and collaborative action. We acknowledge that our community has not always been a successful agency for redress of injustice and inequality. For that we are truly sorry. But, as our community publicly stated about social disadvantage in America, The source of this many-faceted crisis…is profoundly spiritual. We will rise to the crisis, not by making a longer list of commitments, but by persisting with repentant hearts.” (Race, Ethnicity, and Culture, ELCA Social Statement, 1993).

We encourage and support public leadership and courageous action that addresses not just symptoms but also the causes of inequity and human suffering. We believe gathering stakeholders, citizens, civic and spiritual leaders to identify just responses to public problems leads to civic responsibility that serves the well-being and interest of all people, no exceptions. This is not policy only for the sake of distressed neighborhoods; it’s for the sake of a peaceful and flourishing society, in order to form a more perfect union.

Our Lutheran witness and community intend to continue serving in and among the people of the Maryland 7th, with love and gratitude to God for the opportunity, hoping to be a blessing for all who live therein. We will continue to pray for, consult and collaborate with, and support others that do the same.

We are the Delaware-Maryland Synod, serving Baltimore for 264 years. Thanks be to God!

A rest or break from work

by Bishop Bill Gohl

In the seventh year there shall be a sabbath of complete rest for the land, a sabbath for the Lord… – Leviticus 25:4

A sabbatical (from Hebrew: shabbat (שבת) i.e., Sabbath), is a rest or break from work.

The concept of the sabbatical is based on the Biblical practice of shmita, which is related to farming. In Leviticus 25, Jewish persons in the Land of Israel must take a year-long break from working the fields every seven years.

A “sabbatical” has come to mean an extended absence in the career of an individual to fulfill some goal (such as writing a book), learning (or research), rest and renewal.  Some colleges, universities and other institutional employers of academics, clergy, and scientists offer the opportunity to qualify for a paid sabbatical as an employee benefit. In the academy, it’s often a semester off from teaching every 3-5 years. Our Delaware-Maryland Synod policy grants the bishop to have a sabbatical of three months after the third year of each term of service.

A less-than-encouraging member of one of our congregations, upon hearing that I would be on sabbatical leave this summer suggested that I was “about as useful as a member of Congress taking such long vacations.” I admit, after having gone fairly hammer and tong for the last three years of this call, I felt a little hurt by such a characterization. I like to think of this time as a “reset” button, allowing me to re-steady myself and the pace I keep for the second half of the term you called me to as bishop of our synod.

The three components of the sabbatical, which runs from today (Arwyn’s and my 13th wedding anniversary) until I return full-time to the office on September 10, are Learning, Rest and Renewal.

In June, I am taking a Spanish language class in hopes of being a more accessible pastor and bishop to our growing and emerging Latinx communities. Mindful that over half of the world’s population is multilingual, I am trying to press out of my “English-only” bias and comfort zone to be a better citizen and, specifically, a more dependable partner in our Building Puentes partnership with the Metro DC and Caribbean Synods. In the last few days of July, I will be a guest of the ELCA Association of Teaching Theologians for their biennial Convocation at Augustana College in Rock Island, Illinois. We will gather under the theme: Unearned Privilege as Cheap Grace. In the first few days of August, I will attend the African Descent Lutheran Association Biennial Conference in Milwaukee, Wisconsin; our theme: Lift EVERY Voice. This time away from my regular duties will be rich times of learning, for which I am grateful.

In most of July, I will be vacationing with my family. Arwyn and me, first. The kids a bit later. No phone, no email, no Facebook – just us. Camping, overnighting, swimming, hiking and just being. About three weeks in all, this will be the longest period of rest that I have had since I became bishop – although as a parish pastor, and as a mentor to new pastors and deacons, I’ve always encouraged folks to take a three-week block of time off every year as part of their vacation plans – it’s hard to disengage and really rest when you dole out vacation days one here, a few there. This time of rest is something my body and my family are asking for, and I am grateful for this gift you offer us all.

It’s no secret that I often describe my episcopal ministry as that of being “a temporarily misassigned parish pastor.” For the sabbatical period of renewal, I have arranged to be the acting pastor of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Newark, Delaware while Pastor Linda Gunderson is in Italy teaching art. For a few days a week, for four weeks (August 11-September 5), I will live in Delaware, preach to the same congregation four times in a row, provide pastoral care, and accompany the staff while their leader is away. I am looking forward to returning to the parish, even briefly, and tending the children and seniors, the leaders and guests of St. Paul’s. I will also use the sabbatical time to be “renewed” as a homeowner – planting a balcony garden, painting our living room, dining room and kitchen, tending to some loose siding that drives me a little crazy, and cleaning out the basement a bit. A time to be renewed as a Minister of Word and Sacrament, as well as in my primary vocation of husband and father, is an amazing gift of grace, and I am grateful for such renewal time, as well.

During this time, I will poke into “work” a bit, too. I will represent our synod as part of our Churchwide Assembly delegation for a week in August; I will return for a day to ordain a new pastor and baptize a pastor’s child; I will keep one preaching engagement for a friend’s anniversary that I committed to long before the sabbatical was scheduled. I will welcome the National Association of Lutheran Interim Pastors on your behalf, speak to the ELCA Mission Developers when they gather on our territory in August, attend a Region 8 bishops gathering, serve as chaplain to the Metro DC Synod Assembly where my friend Bishop Graham’s successor will be called and elected, and preach from a prominent NYC pulpit to honor a friend’s ordination anniversary!

Still, Bishop Claire Burkat, our acting bishop, will keep a busy, if part-time schedule, preaching and offering pastoral oversight and leadership around our synod so that you might experience a different voice in the bishop’s office; the Rev. Dr. Amsalu Geleta, our executive assistant to the bishop, will care for the day-to-day operations of leading our synod, coordinating our colleagues to cover their own work as well as some of my own; and the indefatigable John Auger, Synod Council Vice President, is accompanying this whole enterprise with his partnership, prayers, and leadership. The Delaware-Maryland Synod is in good hands – God’s! And God is capably assisted by these good leaders as well as our staff, deans and Synod Council, too.

My sabbatical goals are not overly ambitious, there is no book or degree forthcoming. These goals are fairly straightforward:

I am hoping to read the entire Pauline corpus of scripture in chronological order so that I can better understand the development of Paul’s thinking about grace, suffering, leadership and diversity. I will renew my commitment to journaling alongside the scriptures – and not just on Facebook!

My spouse’s primary work in this season is as an elementary music teacher, which gives her a good part of the summer off. Our three younger children are on summer break, too. My hope is that we can enjoy this time away from our regular routines together and find ourselves more regularly at the table together, playing together, dreaming together and worshipping together.

I am committed to spending these next months improving my physical health. I began today with a one-mile walk to begin building up strength and stamina, shedding some weight – and readying to wow my doctor at my annual physical in September. These three months of learning, rest and renewal will be less sedentary than crisscrossing our synod in the bishopmobile!

So, pray for me in this journey and know that I will continue to pray for you, and us, and our life together in the Delaware-Maryland Synod! Love, support and pray for Bishop Burkat, Pastor Amsalu, John, Pastor Robin, Pastor Eric, Pastor Bettye, Deacon Julie, Justina, Karen, Cindy, Pat, Sheron, our Deans, and Synod Council, too. May God bring good fruit from this time, in us, for us and through us – for Jesus’ sake.

My love and prayers – and real gratitude too. +Bill Gohl

The Lord spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai, saying: Speak to the people of Israel and say to them: When you enter the land that I am giving you, the land shall observe a sabbath for the Lord. Six years you shall sow your field, and six years you shall prune your vineyard, and gather in their yield; but in the seventh year there shall be a sabbath of complete rest for the land, a sabbath for the Lord: you shall not sow your field or prune your vineyard. You shall not reap the aftergrowth of your harvest or gather the grapes of your unpruned vine: it shall be a year of complete rest for the land. – Leviticus 25:1-5

For all of the Bettys and Carloses

“Which commandment is the first of all?” Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” – Mark 12:28a-31

These last few weeks, like many from across our Church, I reached out to the President and our Senators to beg for an intervention staying the order of deportation for Betty Rendón and her husband, Carlos Hincapie. I have been pressed to say something publicly by some in our Delaware-Maryland Synod, but I’ve stayed at the edges and instead, amplified the voices of her own bishop and our presiding bishop to call this Church to pray and act. Some of you know the story, and for others this is new.

In 2004, Betty Rendón and her family fled Colombia’s civil war. Guerrilla soldiers had threatened to kill Rendón at a school where she served as principal. Betty and her family fled to the United States with tourist visas and applied for asylum. Their applications were denied in 2009.

A seminary graduate, and a student beginning her doctoral studies at our seminary in Chicago, Betty and her husband, Carlos, were deported back to Colombia this morning.

No argument, this is our country’s immigration policy at its worst: denying asylum for those who are vulnerable and in danger; and, not ancillary to the conversation, separating families, since Betty and Carlos’ daughter, Paula, is a DACA recipient which means she can no longer leave the country if she wishes to remain in this country.

I have joined our presiding bishop and bishop colleagues in calling for government intervention, policy changes and a stronger commitment to protecting the most vulnerable among us who seek asylum and shelter.

And, of course, I pray – and invite you to pray – for Betty, Carlos, Paula, and all who flee violence and persecution for a better life among this immigrant Church that is our heritage and hope; in this melting pot we call America.

What leaves me most uneasy as Betty and Carlos find themselves en route to Columbia this afternoon, is that while our efforts in these last days have been herculean, loud and sustained; Betty and Carlos were denied asylum in 2009, nearly 10 years ago. In that time, we have benefited from her ministry, we have been richer for their family being a part of our family, and we collectively failed to act sooner. We had 10 years to accompany this family through a process to appeal the denial of asylum and appeal the order of deportation, and we’re licking our wounds that we lost that fight when we took it up – and out to the church – in earnest, in these last few weeks.

Our ELCA social message on immigration says: “Our advocacy needs to take into account the complexity of issues, the diversity of interests, and the partial or relative justice of laws at the same time that it counters appeals rooted in hostility, racism, prejudice, indifference, and simplistic solutions. We draw on the best of our nation’s traditions as a refuge and haven for the persecuted and destitute when we affirm that we support a generous policy of welcome for refugees and immigrants, and that we will advocate for just immigration policies, including fairness in visa regulations and in admitting and protecting refugees. We will work for policies that cause neither undue repercussions within immigrant communities nor bias against them.” Ultimately reminding us that Jesus is present in the immigrant sibling, “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.”

Admittedly, I don’t know Betty Rendón, and I wasn’t aware of her circumstances until these last days; still, I do know plenty of other Bettys and Carloses whose citizenship status is best described as fragile. I recognize in today’s deportations not as much a failure of our government, but my own complicity in not acting sooner and advising urgency for the Bettys and Carloses in our Delaware-Maryland Synod community and in my aegis and care. Indeed, Luther suggests, “How do we know that the love of God dwells in us? If we take upon ourselves the need of the neighbor.”

Immigration is complex. It is charged with emotion. It has become increasingly partisan. It can be extremely divisive. Still, it cannot be ignored. And so, licking our wounds, we gather ourselves again. We recommit to the work of advocacy. We support the work of Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service. We speak out in the public square and at the ballot box. We give clear witness to the heart of God in Jesus Christ for the vulnerable, the marginalized, the least of these, our sisters and brothers.

One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well, he asked him, “Which commandment is the first of all?” Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” Then the scribe said to him, “You are right, Teacher; you have truly said that ‘he is one, and besides him there is no other’; and ‘to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength,’ and ‘to love one’s neighbor as oneself,’ —this is much more important than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.” When Jesus saw that he answered wisely, he said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” After that no one dared to ask him any question. – Mark 12:28-34

The Rev. Robert Moore, remembered

by Bishop Bill Gohl

“I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” –John 11:25-26

Bishop Gohl preached for the funeral of the Rev. Robert William Moore, a beloved interim pastor who served a number of Delaware-Maryland Synod, ELCA congregations; and who made his congregational home with the people of First (Ellicott City), where his children and grandchildren are active in the life of that community.

In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

“Dear Bishop Gohl,” a former council president wrote me this last week, “Our congregation was so saddened to hear of the passing of Pastor Moore. He was the embodiment of not being defined by difficult circumstances or defined by one’s disease or diagnosis, he didn’t die from cancer – he lived with it, and he lived well. He was a quirky character, a friend to all who knew him and an inspiring preacher. He will definitely be missed, but he leaves so much of his own faith for all of us. In Pastor Moore though his candor about his own failings and foibles, we learned a bit about grace which was as real for him as he wanted it to be for each of us.”

This is the Robert Moore I knew. With a quiet strength, he was there at all of the right moments; when a congregation was experiencing the difficult reckoning with transition and loss. Whether we were at low ebbs or high celebrations, he would inject his dry, wicked sense of humor and make us laugh, despite our circumstances and in spite of ourselves. Quietly, behind the scenes, with an eye for detail, he reminded us of what faithfulness looks like in this day and age, proving again and again that he was, in the very best sense that Jesus describes, neighbor, family, our friend.

With a quiet efficiency and a quick mind, Robert discovered a “second life” that was defined by his passion for interim ministry; his irrepressible hope that he would – and did – beat the odds around pancreatic cancer; his love of music – really good music; his pride in his children and the delight he knew as a grandfather. Even in the last few months, he would reflect on the unexpected joy of sitting with his family in the pews, worshipping together here at First.

Now, don’t let me ramble and re-remember Robert, either! He was a memorable character, too. As an interim, he was known to gently, but firmly, set more than one of us straight, more than once! And if we dared to “talk back,” one of his attack mini-dachshunds would bark us out of the pastor’s study, gently reminding him and us that they were large and in charge over Robert’s life – and, sometimes ours, too. In fact, the first time I met Robert was when he was serving as interim pastor of Zion in the Middletown Valley. I was serving on the staff of our then-bishop, Jerry Knoche, and was dispatched – at the ripe age of 28 – to counsel with this experienced and gifted pastor to talk through some of the impasses he was experiencing in this vibrant, but challenging congregation that was still reeling over the retirement of their beloved and dynamic long-time pastor. He received me with no blink as to my age and experience, offered me collegiality and friendship – which endured even until these last days; he plotted and planned with me, and tried not to be too horrified when his then-rescue dachshund, misnamed Sweet Pea, bit me when I deigned to try to pet her in his office!

Robert was a good pastor, a devotee of fine music (particularly organ music), and fascinated by classic cars – especially Studebakers. He rarely passed by without a quip and an encouraging word. He never abdicated his responsibility to share of himself. He never said an unkind word about another in my presence, though he had pretty snarky eye-rolls; and he exuded a genuine respect for others that is rare in this cynical, partisan, dog-eat-dog world we live in. He went out of his way to do for others, be them family, friend, neighbor or stranger; and deeply appreciated all that was done to support him in the long health journey he lived among us. In his life and, especially his ministry, he did what he could with strong gentleness in his spirit, his tender heart; and gentle strength in his determination, his fierce independence and genuine concern for others.

Last week, our Lord gathered Robert into his arms, healed his soul, released him from a body that betrayed him, and with a love stronger than death welcomed him into the fullness of life with God, and paid his admission, his care, his future, his eternity by his own precious blood. Jesus kept a promise he made to our brother when he was baptized long, long ago. Robert William, you are mine. Forever.

I stand before you as one who shares your grief. Though he outlived every prognosis of his pancreatic cancer diagnosis, I realized when I visited with Robert on Easter afternoon that he was celebrating his last Easter among us, and in fact, he would soon know Easter forever. The only comfort that fills my heart with any hope, as it aches over the death of our friend, is just this. Robert lives. Robert lives in the fullness of faith become sight – and he lives on, in us, too.

The scriptures sum it up this way: I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Indeed, because Jesus lives, Robert lives – and so shall we, too. Amen.

Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” –John 11:21-27

In memory of Pastor John Damm

by Bishop Bill Gohl

“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain. –I Corinthians 15:55-58

The Rev. Dr. John S. Damm (1926-2019), Pastor Emeritus of St. Peter’s (NYC) and one-time Dean and Professor at Concordia (St. Louis), then Seminex, died over the weekend. As a teenager, I would occasionally go to St. Peter’s; his preaching was always thoughtful, liberally spiked with Luther quotations, and rich with sacramental theology.

When I was in seminary and studied modern Lutheran Church history, I came to know him anew in his pivotal role in Seminex, which provided so much leaven for the formation of the ELCA. He was a churchperson of the highest water; his spiritual heirs have big shoes to fill and a well-lived path of discipleship to follow.

May the good Father John, a renewer of the church, rest in peace and rise in glory. Thanks be to God, indeed.

From his own preaching:
“St. Paul said to the Corinthians, ‘This perishable body must put on imperishability, and the mortal body must put on immortality.’ Let me assure you I’m prepared for that blessed exchange. And that preparation has been going on since the day I made my first Holy Communion in 1939. And it has continued regularly since. For I believe that in every celebration of the Mass, Christ gives me his precious body and blood for the forgiveness of sins. And as Luther continuously assures me, ‘Where there is the forgiveness of sins, there is eternal life.’

“That’s why for most ancient times, the church called the blessed sacrament, ‘the medicine of immortality.’

“So, until death completes my mortal journey, I assure you I shall wait with peace and hope for the full and complete unfolding of that gift of eternal life that was given to me in my baptism. And when that day occurs, I assure you that I shall join St. Paul and shout with whatever voice I have left, ‘thanks be to God, who gives me the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.’ Amen. Amen. Amen.”

What I am saying, brothers and sisters, is this: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled:
‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’
‘Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?’
The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.
–I Corinthians 15:50-58