“And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields, for my name’s sake, will receive a hundredfold, and will inherit eternal life.” (Matthew 19:29 NRSV)

On the day of my graduation from Seminary, I earned a degree, Master of Divinity, M.Div. for short, and I was able to put these letters behind my name.

On the day I was ordained I received a title, Minister of Word and Sacrament. I was able to put the title Reverend before my name, Rev. for short.

And people call me Pastor Jeff, which is what I prefer to any fancy title, and it works for me. But I must confess, there is another title I wear with pride.

When my children were born I became a dad. I remember when I dropped them off at preschool before I went to church, and their tiny little classmates would come up to me to show me a project or say hi and they called me “Rachel’s Dad” or “Nathan’s Dad.” For instance “Hey, ‘Nathan’s Dad,’ look at what I just did.” My heart was warmed by their cuteness and sweetness. But I loved the fact that they didn’t refer to me by any name or title, but simply by my connection to their friend, my child. At that moment, I wasn’t Reverend, Pastor, Minister or Master of Divinity, I was simply “Rachel’s Dad” or “Nathan’s Dad,” and that warmed my heart more than any other title that was given to me.

With the title “Dad” comes a job and as challenging as the ministry can be, being a dad has its challenges too. It requires an awful lot from us and pushes us to our limits. And when we come through these challenges, the love that keeps our family together gets even stronger.

I ask myself the question: “Can I love God more than my kids?” The Bible tells me that I must be willing to forsake even my own family. Frankly, I don’t know if I can do that. I know that this challenge pushes me to my human limits but the challenge is still there.

And then I realized something about God. He, too, has many titles and names. Adonai, Elohim, El Shadai are just a few names/titles of God. But Jesus teaches us to call upon in prayer with the words “Our Father.” And when Jesus called upon God in prayer he used the word “Abba,” roughly translated, “Daddy.”

I wonder if God’s heart warms when he hears his children call upon Him in prayer. I wonder if “Jesus’ Dad” is a title that filled Him with joy. I know that any God who would prefer to have us call him “Father,” “Daddy” or “Dad” must love us the way we love our children. And considering the magnitude of God, that is a lot of love.

As a Christian and a father, I realize that I am not forsaking my children when I love God more, on the contrary. When I love God, he loves me back. And the abundance of God’s love spills upon everyone who is near.

As a human being, I have limits. God, on the other hand, does not. And when my love is tested and pushed to the limits, I can tap into a source of love that is infinite.

As a Christian dad, I find that God’s love spills upon my children every time we pray, every time we worship, every time I am in their midst.

I know that Father’s Day can be a challenging day. I was fortunate to have a wonderful dad and I hope his legacy lives on in me as I am fortunate enough to be a dad. Not everyone is as fortunate as I and I realize this.

We have a Father in God who loves us very much regardless of our fortunes and misfortunes. He calls us to call upon Him in prayer as Father, Daddy or Dad. And, when he loves us, it spills and blesses all who stand in our midst.

Pastor Gross is a pastor of Zion Lutheran Church, located at 959 SE 6 Ave., Deerfield Beach, FL 33441. For more information, call 954-421-3146 or visit www.zion-lutheran.org.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.” (Matthew 5:43-45)

I was fortunate to have within my last parish a parishioner who owned a golf shop. Not only did he line me up with a new set of clubs, but he gave me some free lessons from his computer-simulated golf course.

Jack was an accomplished golfer and it had been years since I had picked up a club, so he let me take a practice swing. I lined up on the ball, adjusted my grip and swung. I felt this wonderful sensation of a true connection. I thought to myself, “Jeff, you are a natural.” And then Jack shared with me the results. I sliced it and I sliced it good. The ball landed on a fairway alright, but not the fairway in front of me.

Then Jack adjusted my stance, my posture, my grip, my swing and then I swung. Everything about this felt awkward. There was nothing that felt right. But, when I completed my swing, Jack applauded, saying, “Congratulations, you are a chip and a put away from a par.”

I know that if I practiced and practiced, and spent a lot of time on the course, there may be a day when awkward would feel natural and natural would feel wrong. My muscle memory would be sound and I would have a completely different game. Alas, parish ministry doesn’t afford me a lot of opportunities for golf. But I never forgot that experience. When I did what felt good, it turned out to be wrong; and, when I did what felt wrong, it turned out to be right. Wouldn’t it be nice if every good action had a corresponding sensation? In life, that doesn’t always happen.

So what is a good example of this happening in life? I can paint a scenario that is all too familiar, unfortunately. There is the peaceful community disrupted by a random act of violence. Perhaps a gunman or a bomber unleashes a wrath of hatred that brings death and destruction to innocent bystanders who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The perpetrator is identified and quickly becomes, in the eyes of the public, Public Enemy No 1. And, as a pastor, I know that my faith community is shaken to the core and it is obvious that the pain we are all feeling calls us to prayer.

In our tradition, we pray the prayer of the church with each petition ending with “Lord, hear our prayer.” And we pray the prayer out loud: “Lord, we pray for the victims of the most recent act of violence, for those who were killed, those who were injured, as well as their family and friends …Lord, hear our prayer … Lord, we pray for our community as we witness another act of violence. We pray for peace … Lord, hear our prayer.” And then I name the name of “Public Enemy No. 1.” I pray that God be merciful and comfort his or her family and friends in this time of crises. I can assure you, though the words “Lord, hear our prayer” are spoken, there are a few audible gulps and moans.

From the perspective of the one leading the prayers I must admit, it felt natural to pray for the victims. It did not feel natural to pray for Public Enemy No. 1. Yet, my faith dictates that this must be done. In spite of any feelings I may have, I am called to love my enemy. Like an awkward golf swing, it does not feel right but it is the right thing to do. It doesn’t feel comfortable. I must admit, if I prayed for God’s wrath to smite this perpetrator of violence it would have felt very comfortable. The problem, of course, is I would have “sliced it.”

I know that many people rely upon their feelings when they make a decision, saying or thinking, “It just felt right at the time.” Comfort can be deceiving and, oftentimes, we find ourselves facing ethical dilemmas calling us to do the right thing, not the comfortable thing.

It may not feel right to pray for our enemies, but it is the right thing to do. May God give us the strength to do the right thing, even when it doesn’t feel comfortable.

Pastor Gross is a pastor of Zion Lutheran Church, located at 959 SE 6 Ave., Deerfield Beach, FL 33441. For more information, call 954-421-3146 or visit www.zion-lutheran.org.

“… on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’” (I Corinthians 11:23b-25)

Some call it “The Lord’s Supper.” Some call it “The Eucharist.” Some call it “Holy Communion.” There are many names but just one purpose and that is to connect us. When we gather to receive the wafer or bread, wine or grape juice, we connect with God and we connect with our fellow communicants. If I were to look for a trendy word to describe this experience, I would call it “The Divine Connection.” Indeed, it is a divine connection.

Are we connected? Some people would say that we are more connected than ever. We have smart phones, computer tablets, Apple watches, as well as Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and Snap Chat. Wifi is available in every Starbucks or McDonalds. We panic when we lose our cell phone signal on road trips. We are so connected that we are actually in bondage to technology. If I leave the house without my cell phone, I actually break into a sweat. I am just as guilty as anybody else in this regard. But are we really connected?

I hear people complain all the time about going to restaurants and seeing people sit across the table from each other and text. They are not making eye contact. They are not listening. They are not speaking. They are texting. Are they texting each other? That would be pretty sad. Are they ignoring each other and texting their friends? That is sadder yet. They may be making a digital connection but they certainly are not making a human connection.

I know that technology can be a great asset. I know that there are ways that churches, synagogues, mosques and other places of worship can utilize technology in very helpful ways to communicate. I heartily endorse the use of technology in churches because I use it all the time. Case in point, I am writing this from my computer.

If homebound people cannot attend worship but can stream a sermon … terrific. If someone is out of town and wants to stream a sermon … terrific. If someone wants to listen again to a sermon I left recorded on a website … terrific. And then I come to a realization. While the sermon is a major part of our worship experience, it is not the only major part of our worship experience.

I can listen to a sermon and I can sing along with hymns and songs, but Holy Communion is an experience that I cannot simulate with technology. There is no such thing as a “digital wafer.” There is no such thing as “virtual wine.” If you want to experience Holy Communion, the only way that is possible is on a human-to-human level.

I happily bring Holy Communion to homebound people or hospitalized people, and every worship service at Zion includes Holy Communion. Human interaction is the only possible way to distribute communion and I have to say that this is good. The lack of human interaction is taking its toll on society whereas Holy Communion is one of the last vestiges of human interaction left.

Even for faith traditions that do not celebrate Holy Communion in the manner in which we do, we celebrate communion in the general sense of the word. Communion and community have a common root and faith-based communities are sacred space where humans interact in person. Our places of worship provide an invaluable service during the digital age. We pray together; we praise together; we sing together; we listen to one another and we speak to one another. When someone in our community is hurting, we empathize, sympathize and hug. Technology cannot do any of these things.

May we people of faith never lose sight of the important role we play in the lives of the people we serve. When God speaks to his people it is through sending people, not text messages.

Pastor Gross is a pastor of Zion Lutheran Church, located at 959 SE 6 Ave., Deerfield Beach, FL 33441. For more information, call 954-421-3146 or visit www.zion-lutheran.org.

“If my people, who are called my name, will humble themselves and pray… then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” 2 Chronicles 7:14 (NIV)

After my article was submitted last month, the tragedy at Marjory Stoneman Douglas occurred. Our hearts broke on Ash Wednesday as the news unfolded throughout the afternoon. If Ash Wednesday is a day when we confront the reality of our mortal and broken nature, we certainly saw evidence of this on that very day.

I was taken aback when I heard a brokenhearted student speak. She was clearly frustrated from hearing leaders say “you are in my thoughts and prayers.”

She said, “I want action.”

I certainly do not blame this young woman for her frustration. She just experienced a nightmare nobody should have to face, especially a child. I do not think she was rejecting thoughts and prayers. I think she was frustrated by the fact that this phrase was used as a platitude. I think she felt that the public figures who used these words were trying to appease her, pat her on the head and tell her everything was going to be OK. But, tired of inaction, tired of appeasement and patronization, she spoke out not against prayer itself but against platitudes.

What is a platitude? Merriam-Webster tells us that a platitude is “a banal, trite, or stale remark.” The Cambridge Dictionary definition is “a statement that has been repeated so often that it is meaningless.”

I remember a time in seminary when I heard my New Testament professor express his frustration. A classmate of mine experienced two tragedies in a row. He returned home because his father died unexpectedly from a heart attack. And, while he was at home helping his mother, overcome by the stress of the preparations, he suffered a stroke. We found out about this when we went to class and saw his empty chair. Our professor told us what happened.

Then, he shared with us his frustration, which was not unlike the frustration of this brave student, saying, “I have heard you say to your friends ‘I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers.’ It is like you are putting a band-aid on a broken arm. When this class is over, I want you to go to your dorm rooms and get on your knees and pray for David. He needs more than your words, he needs your prayers.”

I appreciated the honesty of my professor, as well as his wisdom and frustration. He reminded us that prayer is not a platitude, but it is action.

I did go home. I did get on my knees and I prayed for my classmate. I know others did as well.

David returned to seminary a couple weeks later. His mother began her recovery and was doing well. His family was healing from the loss, and David was able to return to his studies. I believe that our prayers were heard.

When we confront a national tragedy such as the massive shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas, we may feel helpless. The good news is that we can do something and, as one who believes in the power of prayer, we can do a lot.

I say to all of us brokenhearted residents of Broward County to do more than say the words “I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers.” Let us be called to action, get on our knees and pray.

Pastor Gross is a pastor of Zion Lutheran Church, located at 959 SE 6 Ave., Deerfield Beach, FL 33441. For more information, call 954-421-3146 or visit www.zion-lutheran.org.

“And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. ₁He was in the wilderness for 40 days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.”

(Mark 1:12-13 NRSV)

The 40 days of Lent begins on Ash Wednesday and ends on Easter. This is a season when we are encouraged either to give up something decadent or start something healthy. I have always found Lent to be a joyous time even during the struggle. In our resistance, we are reminded why … it is because of God. And when I crave something decadent, I am forced to think about God. And let’s say, during Lent, I think about God a lot.

My son and daughter came back from Youth Group with a burning question. While Lent is 40 days, from Ash Wednesday to Easter, Sundays are not factored into the 40 days. Therefore, do Sundays count?

And, if Sundays don’t count, would it be OK for us to break our pledge? My kids deducted that there is a loophole in Lent. My daughter gave up chocolate during Lent, but if the Lenten Loophole allows, maybe she could have a candy bar on Sundays. My son gave up pizza during Lent, but maybe Sunday would be a day where he could enjoy a cheesy slice of heaven.

I don’t think I had a great answer. But I did ask them the question: “What does your conscience tell you?” They both seemed disappointed. They made the right choice. Maybe my answer wasn’t that bad after all. But that wasn’t the only time I was confronted with the “Lenten Loophole.”

A choir director who served in a church I once served did not like Lent because she found it to be, in her words, depressing. We omitted the word “alleluia” from worship during Lent and would bring it out during Easter really giving that word a new and special meaning.

In the meantime, in an effort to find happy and uplifting music without the word alleluia, she found music that was a little quieter and more contemplative and, in her words, she found that music depressing.

“Can we sing this song?” she asked as she handed me a piece of music riddled with the word “alleluia.” I told her no, for obvious reasons. She said “But, Sundays don’t count during Lent.”

Truthfully, this started a great conversation. We talked about the value of being quiet and contemplative. We talked about the traditions that most people brought with them to Florida, namely, observing Sunday as a part of Lent. And we found some music that was happy and uplifting that didn’t include the specific word “alleluia.” I think we both grew from this conversation.

Before I go any further I want to make it clear, Sundays do count during Lent. Easter is a moveable feast but always lands on a Sunday. Ash Wednesday is a moveable feast but always lands on a Wednesday. Omitting Sundays from the 40 days is a matter of Math, not a matter of Faith.

But I think the bigger issue is loopholes. What do we gain by looking for an escape clause? What benefit do we receive when we are given permission to cheat? And, ultimately, who are we cheating? Who are we kidding?

There is joy in discipline. When we resist temptation, we find ourselves stopping, pausing and reflecting on why. The why is God and the moment of contemplation is a moment of joy. I look at Lent less as an obligation and more as an opportunity. And, when I confront a day or more over and above the 40, I embrace this as yet one more opportunity.

What do we find in a loophole? We find empty space. At best, we experience a delicious moment that disappears and leaves us unsatisfied. We may even find disappointment. But we will not find joy.

Joy is hard to come by. But Lent is God’s gift to those of us who seek joy. Have a blessed and joyous Lent.

Pastor Gross is a pastor of Zion Lutheran Church, located at 959 SE 6 Ave., Deerfield Beach, FL 33441. For more information, call 954-421-3146 or visit www.zion-lutheran.org.

“And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” (Hebrews 10:24-25 NRSV)

January is a good month to “take inventory” and move forward. The old year is behind us and the new year is in front of us. We learn from the past in order to plan for the future.

Financially, we prepare ourselves for taxes. Painful though it may be, we have to do it. And we look at our past spending and future expenditures and discover where we can change certain behaviors. We look back at some of our bad habits and try to get rid of them. Just as important, we start some new habits that are beneficial.

Physically, we consider our health and well-being. Perhaps, we schedule an annual physical. Perhaps, we join a gym or change some eating habits. January is a month when gym memberships jump. We quit our bad habits and start new ones.

If we take inventory on our finances and our physical health, maybe we should consider our spiritual health. There are any number of questions we can ask ourselves. Certainly, we get into bad habits and can start good ones. I would suggest that we get into the habit of prayer.

It was impressed upon me, as a child, that you pray when you wake up and when you go to bed, that you pray before you eat even if you are at a restaurant and others may see you. Prayer became second nature. As I look at prayer as a habit, I realize that there is a lot of room for improvement not only when it comes to the frequency of prayer, but the prayer itself. So I have two suggestions to take into consideration when it comes to prayer. One is on the quantity of prayer, the other is on the quality.

First, do we pray enough? I am amazed at faith traditions that call their faithful to pray three, five, as much as eight times a day over and above bedtime and meals. What would happen if we challenged ourselves to pray at least once a day over and above our regular prayers?

In a bygone era, church bells could be heard and the faithful were reminded to pray. It is hard to imagine the sound of church bells drowning out the noise of traffic. What can remind us of prayer?

A little feature on my cell phone is the ability to set an alarm. Cell phones can be alarm clocks and remind us of events that happen throughout the day. I set my alarm to go off once a day to remind me to stop and pray. This little reminder has kept me spiritually grounded and added the additional blessing of prayer.

Second, how do we pray? Any prayer is good, including memorized prayers. Perhaps, there is a table blessing that you have used throughout your life. Perhaps, there is a prayer you have prayed each night before you went to bed.

Of course, you can pray without memory. I have noticed some people are pretty eloquent in their public prayers and some are intimidated by the idea of praying out loud. No worries. Talk to God, he knows what you need better than you.

It is easy to get into the habit of “saying prayers.” I always correct people who will invite people to pray by saying: “Let us say the Lord’s Prayer.” I say, better yet, let us “pray” the Lord’s Prayer. Let us slow down, listen, concentrate and focus on each word Jesus taught us to pray. In short, if you want to improve the quality of your prayer, slow down.

These two little points may help you throughout this new year. On behalf of Zion Lutheran Church and me, Pastor Jeff Gross, I want to wish you a very blessed and Happy New Year.

Pastor Gross is a pastor of Zion Lutheran Church, located at 959 SE 6 Ave., Deerfield Beach, FL 33441. For more information, call 954-421-3146 or visit www.zion-lutheran.org.

“And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’” Matthew 25:40 NRSV

I am not one to brag, but I was a part of a choir that performed for a king, King Olav V. I also had the privilege of performing for the crown prince and princess who are now the King and Queen of Norway.

My mother’s family is Norwegian and I attended a college in Minnesota, Concordia College, which was founded by my Norwegian immigrants. Because the Church of Norway is Lutheran, so is my alma mater. And there are still strong links between my college and the Kingdom of Norway. That is why, periodically, my college performs in Norway for the Norwegian royal family. And you can imagine that one may be humbled by an experience like this.

The performance for the king was simply a song we sang at the Ascension Day worship service in the Oslo Cathedral. He was a gracious old man who waved to us on his way out during the procession.

Crown Prince Harald and Princess Sonja attended a concert we performed for in a church near their residence outside of Oslo. Since then he has been crowned King Harald V. This event was far more memorable. And we were all starstruck by the fact that we were performing for a man who would be king.

The crown prince and princess sat in throne-like chairs in the center aisle right behind our conductor. They had the best seats in the house, naturally, and the others in attendance paid dearly for admission. We could see his facial expressions throughout the whole concert; and, as starstruck American kids, we paid close attention to those expressions almost as if they were the only thing that mattered.

The crown prince looked bored. It looked like he was doing us a giant favor by showing up at our concert. At times, he even looked inconvenienced. His wife smiled and was delightful, but we didn’t seem to be affecting the prince.

At intermission, we all commented on the prince’s demeanor. One of the choir members said: “Wait a minute, we are Americans. We don’t have kings. The crowd loves us. Let us sing to the crowd.”

One of our more faithful members said: “Better yet, let us give glory to God.”

Our focus shifted from the prince, who seemed bored and inconvenienced, to the actual people who came to hear the choir, the people who paid dearly to sit in the uncomfortable pews. Our focus shifted from the crown prince, who sat in front of us, to God, the true master of the house.

When I look back, I think our second half was better. I think the choir sounded better. The crowd was even more enthusiastic. And then something else happened, the prince began to smile.

It would be easy to dismiss the prince as a spoiled brat. After all, there are privileges that come with royalty. However, I give him the benefit of the doubt. I sincerely believe that a good prince understands that he is beholden to both his God and his subjects. I believe a good prince isn’t focused upon himself but upon those things that are bigger than him. And my relatives who live in Norway assure me that King Harald is a good king who truly does care for his people.

What does this have to do with Christmas? A King was born on Christmas. He wasn’t born in a palace but a stable. He wasn’t laid in a golden crib, but a manger. His birth wasn’t announced with trumpets outside of a palace, but by singing angels in the midst of shepherds. God went out of his way to shift our focus away from all of the things we associate with royalty to the very things that truly matter, God and the people God serves.

Had the Christmas story happened any differently, we could have been like a bunch of starstruck college kids caught up in tabloid hype. Rather, from the beginning, God shifted our focus to a place where it always should have been.

One of my favorite Christmas songs was written in Katherine Kennicott Davis in 1941. It was called “The Carol of the Drum” and was first performed by the Trapp Family singers in 1951. (Yes, the Sound of Music family). Its title has been changed to “The Little Drummer Boy.” And when the drummer boy plays his best, baby Jesus smiles.

How do we make the King of King’s smile? Matthew 25 tells us to shift our focus. Clearly, focusing on God’s people has always been a part of the story of Jesus. If we really want to make our King smile on Christmas, let us give our best to the least. Let us focus on the poor, the needy, those who are forgotten on Christmas. If we really want to make Jesus smile, honor God and all of God’s people.

Pastor Gross is a pastor of Zion Lutheran Church, located at 959 SE 6 Ave., Deerfield Beach, FL 33441. For more information, call 954-421-3146 or visit www.zion-lutheran.org.

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:4-7)

Before I begin, I want to encourage all people of faith to set aside their differences and unite in solidarity behind the First Baptist Church in Sutherland Springs, Texas. Let us pray for the 27 who were killed, the 20 who were injured, the community and our nation as we mourn together at the wake of yet one more national tragedy, this time in a place of worship. It is a difficult request; please pray for the gunman and his family as well. He, too, was a victim of evil.

Forgive me, reader, as I allow myself to write as I think. This is my fourth attempt at writing this column and I have started and stopped three times leading up to this final attempt. Why, you may ask. The answer is simple. I am writing about Thanksgiving in the wake of another national tragedy, this time in a place of worship.

As a pastor, I feel a little vulnerable. I think that this is a natural reaction considering the fact that 27 were killed in a place of worship. As a living and breathing human being who is tired of this phenomenon, I am angry. And I feel that my anger is more than justified.

I think I stopped and started three times leading up to this final attempt because, quite honestly, I wasn’t feeling thankful. And I certainly didn’t want my emotions to get the best of me and, honestly, they were getting the best of me. And then I read this passage from Philippians 4:4-7.

I think anytime I read an epistle of St. Paul I consider two things, the writer and his audience. The reality for Paul, as well as the Philippian Church, was a reality of Christian persecution. While I, as well as most of you, was surprised by the atrocity in Sutherland Springs, Texas, neither Paul nor his audience, the Church of Philippi, would have been surprised at all. That was the reality of the early church.

That being said, Paul writes these words: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.” Is Paul unaware of his own circumstances or the challenges that face the Church of Philippi? Paul doesn’t seem to have a problem being thankful in a time when most people, me included, would.

And then I looked at the words again: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.” He did not write “Rejoice in the Lord sometimes, and when you feel happy, Rejoice.” There is a something about Paul’s words that stubbornly cling to hope when society is on the brink of throwing in the towel. I read words of a faith that is, if you will, defiant, as if to say, I am not going to let the circumstances surrounding me drag me down. I will give thanks always, when I feel like it, when I don’t feel like it, when I am happy, when I am sad, when I am angry because I will not give the victory to those who would take this away. I call this defiant gratitude. It isn’t glib. It doesn’t ignore the painful reality and the challenges we face. It simply says, “You won’t win, Devil. The victory belongs to God.”

These words played a pivotal role in changing my attitude into an “attitude of gratitude.” But not only that, I have an “attitude of defiant gratitude.”

Thanksgiving is a national holiday as well as a religious one. It is a chance to unite all people of faith, whatever faith that may be. The reality of evil is something that we all face and even our places of worship are vulnerable.

Let us unite in Thanksgiving with defiant gratitude. Let us praise God no matter what the risk may be. Let our families carry on with their celebrations and let us never lose sight of the fact that that which unites us is much stronger than that which divides us. Our greatest common denominator is God. And to God alone, let us give our glory.

Pastor Gross is a pastor of Zion Lutheran Church, located at 959 SE 6 Ave., Deerfield Beach, FL 33441. For more information, call 954-421-3146 or visit www.zion-lutheran.org.

Dear Readers:

I write this article with a heavy heart in the wake of the senseless act of violence in Las Vegas. First and foremost, I grieve for the victims and grieve with their families and friends. The whole nation feels the pain and suffering, and it is my prayer that we stand united against violence and work together to prevent an act of this nature from happening again.

I also bear the responsibility of a religious leader who must respond to this act with words of healing and hope. I do not want to repeat the offenses of irresponsible religious leaders who seized the opportunity to grandstand or, worse, blame the victims for their demise. And considering the foolish responses of some, it is tempting to remain silent. Alas, silence is not an option.

After prayerful reflection, I went to scripture. How did Jesus respond to senseless acts of violence or random tragedies? The answer is in Luke 13: 1-5. Jesus was speaking to a crowd that had two tragedies on their mind as Jesus was speaking. One was an act of violence committed by Pontius Pilate’s soldiers against Galilean worshippers. While the historical details are fuzzy, the one thing we know is innocent Galileans were killed by Roman soldiers under the command of Pontius Pilate. This was a senseless act of violence.

The other event was a random event that probably was the result of faulty architecture. The Tower of Siloam collapsed and innocent people were crushed. Again, the people in the crowd wanted to make sense of this random occurrence.

Picking up on the buzz, perhaps even overhearing the conversations of the people, the question arose: “Did these victims do something to bring on the wrath of God?” Jesus gave two answers.

The first answer was “No.” In other words, these bystanders were indeed innocent. God did not punish them. The Romans were clearly the ones to blame for the senseless killing of the Galileans. And who knows who was to blame for the collapse of the Tower. One can only speculate; but it wasn’t God. That much was clear.

The second answer was “However.” The words that followed the “however” did not negate the first answer. However, they may be words that do not sound good to the ears when we hear them in our English translation: “Unless you repent, you will perish as they did.”

I think it is the word “repent” that gives me pause. The word “repent” conjures up images of self-righteous, sanctimonious, judgmental preachers pointing their fingers and frowning at the sinner. Shame-based motivation not only exposes the hypocrisy of the one who uses it, but also just plain doesn’t work. I certainly don’t want that image to remain on our minds, especially at the wake of a tragedy.

So I go to Koine Greek, the language of the New Testament, and come across a word that is much, much better than the English translation. That word is “Metanoia.” Metanoia simply means “to change one’s mind.” The prefix “meta,” which means change, is found in words like “metamorphous” or “to change form.” That word makes me think of butterflies. Butterflies are a much better image in the wake of a tragedy.

So, coming back from the Greek to the English, I can say these words that truly are helpful in the wake of a tragedy. “Unless we learn from this experience, or ‘change our mind,’ we will be doomed to repeat it.” If a tragedy of this nature comes and goes, and we don’t learn from it, then we really are in trouble. This is just common wisdom.

If Jesus is telling us anything, it is this: “Learn from this.” It is my prayer that people of authority can set aside their differences and work for common solution that will keep us safe. That is my prayer.

There are many more things to be learned from this experience that can benefit us right now. I will tell you a few things that I have learned, not only from this tragedy, but the ones that have preceded this (which is an unfortunately a long list).

First, love. Tell the people in your life that you love them. Love your family, your friends and neighbors. Love your enemies too. Love is hard work, but it is worth it.

Second, forgive. “Do not let the sun go down on your anger.” (Ephesians 4:6). It is not worth it to hold on to a grudge. If you think a grudge is heavy, try a missed opportunity to forgive.

Third, embrace life. Life is a gift from God. Let us never take this gift for granted. Whatever your religious persuasion may be, I think we can all benefit from love, forgiveness and treating life as a gift.

May God heal us and change us for the better.

Pastor Gross is a pastor of Zion Lutheran Church, located at 959 SE 6 Ave., Deerfield Beach, FL 33441. For more information, call 954-421-3146 or visit www.zion-lutheran.org.

First and foremost, my prayers are with our whole community as we recover from Hurricane Irma. This ordeal has brought the community together and, together, we will get through this. I think that it is safe to say, it could have been worse and we should be grateful that the projections that we feared did not come to full fruition. That being said, there was a lot of loss. And while we pray prayers of gratitude, we also pray for those who lost a lot, including our neighbors who took the hit directly in the Florida Keys, the Everglades and the Naples area [and the Caribbean and elsewhere].

I also want to say to all of the first responders, emergency workers, those working to restore power, news reporters, or anyone else who worked around the clock to and through the storm, thank you. Hurricanes remind us of who the real heroes are and God used these brave men and women to keep us safe through the worst part of the storm. God bless you and the work you do.

I have served 21 of my 23 years of ministry in Florida and I have seen my share of hurricanes and tropical storms. I have to say, this one had me scared more than any. I can say that hurricanes have the tendency to put things in perspective. It takes a mortal threat to realize that some things we deem as important really are not that important and the things that are important, like life, family and friends, cannot be replaced. We know the difference between a problem and a nuisance. It is a problem to lose your home; it is a nuisance to lose your cable.

I wish I could say that my first hurricane put things in perspective for me and they have remained their ever since. But when the storm passes, the dust settles, the branches and debris are cleared away and the power comes back on, things go back to normal. After normal comes, comfort follows, as well as contentment. It doesn’t take long before one finds oneself taking things for granted.

The night I went to bed and the power was out, I prayed to God a prayer that I didn’t intend to sound like I was bargaining with God. In hindsight, I think I did. But it went something like this: “God, if you spare the life of my family and my home, I will be eternally grateful and never forget.” The hurricane passed, the power came back on, the shower was warm, the air conditioning was cool, water was cold, coffee was hot and all was looking good. The gratitude was abundant, just not eternal.

First came normal, then came comfort followed by contentment. And then the old habit of taking things for granted set in. One of my children cried out in anguish: “Where is the Wifi?” Really? You just survived a hurricane and you are complaining about Wifi? And then I turned on the television which I had set to record a football game playing on a network not preempted by hurricane coverage. No electricity, no cable, no DVR, no football. And then I cried out in anguish: “I cannot watch the football game.” Really, I just survived a hurricane and I was complaining about my DVR?

I wish I could say I sustained my gratitude for a good solid week, but I found myself in that place where I was prior to the hurricane within a couple hours of getting power back. Yes, I am a person of faith, but an imperfect person of imperfect faith. And the hurricane taught me that lesson as well.

Now, we face the potential of other storms. We simply do not know what our near future is going to be when it comes to weather. All the spaghetti models in the world won’t tell us exactly what the future has in store for us. At best, we can make an educated guess. But we do know where we can find our strength to get through to the other side of the coming storm. Our strength comes with our faith in God.

Pastor Gross is a pastor of Zion Lutheran Church, located at 959 SE 6 Ave., Deerfield Beach, FL 33441. For more information, call 954-421-3146 or visit www.zion-lutheran.org.