Kaitlin Jandereski
Lounged against a wooden wall before chapel started, I thought deep and hard about my sins – the ones I knew, the ones I didn’t know. And while doing so, I surveyed the crucifix drooped from the ceiling as if it were an unexpected corpse sighting. The body was bruised and stripped of clothes. The nails dripped of innocent blood. There hung the man on it: defeated and dead.
This image – the image of Jesus Christ nailed to a cross – is the cornerstone for every Higher Things conference. Here, we learn, teach and confess Christ and Him crucified for sinners.
This past week was… wait for it, wait for it… no different.
To briefly recap, let’s cover when Pastor Riley taught us that Jesus went through even hell for us: “You’re not an alcoholic, a drug addict, a slut, a queer. You’re not anything but a baptized child of Christ. And, yeah, the Old Adam likes to say, ‘I got a lot of problems! How can I be saved?’ But Jesus likes to say, ‘You think you got problems? I died for you. I went to hell for you. Now, that was a problem. But alas, your sins are forgiven. You are mine.’
Confirmation is important, and Vicar Kyle Brown’s breakaway class reminded us of just that. We learned about our identity in Christ, “Name changes in the Bible are very significant. To help you understand, just look at us. When we received Jesus, our own names as Baptized Christians were placed upon our foreheads and upon on our hearts. We changed from who we were – lost and condemned – to who we are now: baptized, saved, forgiven.”
And in Friday’s plenary session, Pastor Mark Buetow taught us why we go to church weekly, “When your memory starts to go, the Word of God doesn’t. It sustains you. So, going to worship every Sunday might get boring as you say the same words and sing similar hymns, but it’s good to have them engraved in your head as they will be the last words you know, but the first words you hear when you open your eyes in paradise.”
Higher Things president, Pastor George Borghardt spent his time telling us that Jesus isn’t for the holy people, but for the lost sinners, “The Gospel isn’t there to alter your behavior, but it’s there to save dead and lost sinners. To bring them back to God each and every time they sin. I repeat: The Gospel is to save sinners. That’s the Gospel because that’s Jesus.”
We sang, too. Oh, did we sing! We sang hymns that pointed us to the Lord’s Supper, such as Chad Bird’s, “The Infant Priest was Holy Born:” “The body of God’s Lamb we eat, a priestly food and priestly meat; On sin-parched lips the chalice pours His quenching blood that life restores.”
I could go on and on, and I’m sure you’d listen. But, instead, check out a Higher Things conference for yourself next year. It’s a conference where high school students spend their time worshiping three times a day on the daily. Confessional, liturgical, Christ and Him Crucified plenary sessions, breakaway classes and late night discussions. It’s all about Jesus. All of the time. And the youth? Well, they devour it. That’s why they keep coming back.
Kaitlin Jandereski was a CCV for Grand Rapids, MI’s 2015 Higher Things’ conference and is a future deaconess. She currently lives in a small town called Bad Axe, Michigan.
Heaven came to earth this week at Higher Things. It sounds weird, doesn’t it? I mean, we live on earth, right? We have mortal bodies. We are the very dust of this earth, belonging to creation and living in this world as humans. We are sinners, every single one of us, from the very core of our being. There is no denying the fact that earth, even as it houses the greatest temples and treasures of our lives, is not worthy to hold heaven itself, even for a second.
Forgiveness doesn’t look like much. In fact it’s down-right ugly. We expect that when God does something for it to be beautiful, spectacular even. This is the God of TV who sends gorgeous angels to intercede, while flooding onlookers with a soft, gentle light that does not reveal the flaws in anyone’s complexion. Rarely do the mystics speak of finding God in the mundane, much less the ugly, rather they will speak of finding God in a beautiful landscape, sunset, fields of rainbows, butterflies, and kittens. This is because our Old Adam is programmed to never really see the things of God, instead he defines himself as God, so what he sees as good, right, and beautiful, must then be God. The Old Adam cannot afford to see the things of God, to see the reconciliation wrought only by bloody hands and feet on a hillside outside Jerusalem, because there is no room for him in that reconciliation, instead he must die. To fallen human senses, forgiveness smells like death.
There is not one person in this world who has not experienced any degree of suffering that has hurt them emotionally and physically. There is not one person in this world who has not, filed away in their past, things that they wish had never happened – things that have changed their life, things that they have carried with them to the present. And there is not one person in this world who lacks that certain “tic,” the uncontrollable itch inside of them, a weakness attributed to them since birth. A weakness that is hidden within the skin of our flesh, a truth deep within our nature to which others can not clearly see.
He suspected it was an ambush. The sweet-sounding invitation to come over and join her on Tuesday afternoon. The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies wafting through the air. The glass of cold milk sweating on the table. “Have a seat,” she smiled. He did. Polite small talk. He thanked her and ate a cookie. Drank half the glass of milk. Wiped his mouth with the perfectly folded napkin.
Wherever you live, you’ve seen them, lying on park benches, standing on the roadside, sitting on street corners, easily identified by disheveled hair, baggy clothes, and bad teeth: the homeless. Maybe you’ve also been one of those people who walk in the opposite direction, lock your car door or roll up your window, at the mere sight of someone holding a sign reading, “God bless,” as if the words written in Sharpie on the bent piece of cardboard were an imprecation rather than a benediction. I’ve seen someone reach for a concealed weapon at the mere approach of a homeless man.
“So, you’re a pastor, eh? What do you do anyway?”
What are we celebrating when we commemorate this day of the presentation of the Augsburg Confession by the reformers to Emperor Charles V?