From Pastor Eric’s Study – August 2025

By the time that you read this we will be celebrating the REVEREND Jakob Kröner as a newly ordained pastor. It has been an incredible journey that has led him to being ordained within the United Church of Christ, and here at Peace Church. Early in his conversations about staying in the United States and pursuing ordination within the UCC, we encouraged Jakob to speak to the leadership of the German church- where he was ready to be ordained- to share his sense of call to pursue ordination here. Their response was incredibly faithful and humbling as our German partners affirmed that God was doing a wonderful new thing. They celebrated where God was leading Jakob and offering new possibilities for all of us.

The life of the church is always God’s – it is to be Spirit led. Oh, there are plenty of times when those who lead and serve the Church grow impatient waiting on God and take things into their own hands. Shoot, even Sarah and Abraham grew impatient waiting on God's promise. That is not the church at its strongest. Instead, we are strongest when we open ourselves to what God is doing in our midst. We often find God showing up in unexpected ways, like a German Vikar being ordained among us. Our proclamation that “God is Still Speaking” requires that we are still listening.

Part of the Rite of Ordination includes the laying on of hands and inviting the Holy Spirit to claim the minister and ministry to which we all bear witnesses. The clergy gathered lay their hands upon the ordinand in a tradition of “Apostolic Succession.” Some traditions are much more detailed in the ways that they trace the lineage of hands laid-on all the way back to the disciples (it’s like genealogy for nerdy clergy types). Within the UCC we simply accept that each generation has shared in passing on the blessing received to those who follow. Usually, many generations are present at any ordination coalescing in that moment when we participate in passing on the mantle, the blessing, to those who will join in humbly serving God and the Church. At first glance it may seem like it’s all about the one being ordained, when really it is always about the way that God is still faithfully at work in the world throughout the generation.

For thousands of years God has been calling teachers and prophets, servants of God to care for and inspire the people of God that together we might continually bear witness to God's love in the world.

In Jakob’s ordination (as in the ordinations at Peace of Eric Ogi, Gretchen Martin, and Susan Kolb) we should be humbled that God is still choosing to show up and work through us. The celebration in which we share is a beautiful acclamation that God isn’t anywhere near done with us yet. We are invited, each of us, to be participants in nurturing and celebrating God's gifts as they unfold among us.

Rev. Jakob Kröner is called and ordained to a particular form of ministry, but every single part of the church is called to be a part of the priesthood of all believers – to be ministers wherever they are, in whatever they do, joining hands with the faithful through the ages in order to share the extraordinary love of God that is offered to the world.

I celebrate each of us being woven into the sacred story of God. May God bless us among the timeless threads of God's grace.

From Pastor Jakob’s Study - June/July 2025

The moments that define our life are moments of transition, of change, of achievement, or of loss. When something breaks into our lives, often something we did not look out for, for better or worse, it rearranges our reality, opening new options, and closing off others. Ordination is one such moment, an unrepeatable and unique moment. A moment that suddenly feels so close, after such a long time, it’s almost surreal.

Technically, of course, I am not yet approved for ordination – in fact, some of you who read this will have a hand in that approval I hope for, as you get to cast a vote on my fitness to be a minister of the United Church of Christ during my Ecclesiastical Council on June 29. In the afternoon, at 2 pm, I will lead a short worship, there will be introductions and greetings from the conference, and then I will present my ordination paper. After this first part, everyone present will be able to ask me questions regarding my spiritual path, my pastoral experience, and my theological education. Then I leave the room, and people will vote.

It’s been a long way. My path has been a meandering, somewhat disoriented one, not a straight arrow heading to a specific target, more a caterpillar heedlessly eating from this leaf and that, mostly blind to its surroundings or any ultimate purpose of its path. Whether I transitioned into a chrysalis or even a butterfly (or a moth!) by now I’m not sure. When I first picked up my studies I certainly didn’t see myself in ministry, let alone being ordained in any church. Like Jonah, one of my favorite Bible characters, I ventured all kinds of places, before grudgingly giving in to God’s call. Unlike Jonah, however, once I answered, I loved every minute of it (well, almost every minute). In fact, even if I would like to be with the Lord above all, I will answer for a million more years, if that is His wish. I have been called. I must answer.

Just like my namesake Jakob in the Bible (yes, in German his spelling is like my name), my path led me to all kinds of quirky places. It is not lost on me that I spent my first two adventures abroad in the most significant cities of Christian history – namely Jerusalem and Rome. Now, close to this pivotal moment in my journey, I feel blessed to have made such experiences in these places, places that are imbued with our collective past, the land of our spiritual fathers and mothers, Israel, and the city that still houses the leader of Catholic Christianity, Rome, unbroken – if not unshaken – lines of religious history, all the way back to Abraham when he first ventured forth from his father’s house.

But I didn’t discover my love for ministry in any grand city of the world, Berlin included, but in a tiny village, not unlike the one I grew up in. It was a fearful step, that one. After a decade of studies, to step back into the countryside, away from the center of everything important, away also from the noise. I took a chance. Whenever I went back to my home village, Kahlwinkel, I felt the dark, brooding shadows of the past haunt me. In fact, I had worked so hard to have a chance in the real world, to live a life of scholarship in places of import!

Again and again, God calls us to the margins. He calls us to the places we don’t dare to look at, even the places that haunt us. He takes our hand as we confront our inner demons, spectres, and, yes, our inner, wounded child. But moving to the village of Arnsdorf for my Vicariate was no confrontation at all, as I feared – it was a time of healing, of spiritual spring, of learning. And even then, God had even more funny ideas – why don’t we take this one step further and you serve in a village on the other side of the globe? Huh!

Dare I say that Eric and I have been each others’ answer to our prayers? I was looking for a mentor, a brother in Christ to further guide me in the arts of ministry, and I wonder if Eric was looking for a supporting figure alongside his own call, someone to help take on our post-Covid work in the church. But that would be his story to tell.

As I’ve said many times before, and never enough, my experience since arriving here has been nothing short of amazing. The joy with which I was welcomed into the Peace family, and gradually into Cedar and other places beyond, has been overwhelming. As I’ve also said before, in Germany I often had to earn my place. It took years to enter people’s hearts. Here I felt like I got the skeleton key handed to me on the doorstep. “Come right in! Also, have some pizza.” It confused me, because I felt loved without even having done anything for it. Oh right… that’d be grace. Like, that idea this whole Christianity thing is all about.

So yeah I see very much an unbroken – if not unshaken – line from Jerusalem to Rome to Berlin (so far, so good) to Arnsdorf (??) to Kewaskum (??!!). I am Jakob, the wanderer, and I’ve seen my share of ladders to heaven, and the most unlikely places to say: “Truly, the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it!” (Genesis 28:16)

I would feel honored to once again have your support in this part of my journey, whatever the next step down the road will be. I’m sure God has his own ideas about that. Usually there’s no spoilers as to what’s next. But Jakob got all the reassurance he needs: “I am with you and will protect you wherever you go. I will not abandon you without having done all –” (Genesis 28:15)

It’s okay, Lord. You had me at “I am with you.”

God bless you all as we journey into this summer.

Pastor Jakob

From Pastor Eric’s Study - May 2025

Christ has Risen! This proclamation might continue to ring in our ears for some weeks as we continue in this season of Easter. This year I was delighted to receive “Christ has Risen” on Saturday from Berit in New Zealand and the Walkers in Korea, what a delight to begin hearing that announcement ring out around the world a day ahead of us. This is a time when we keep thinking about how the story of Jesus' resurrection is relevant in our lives today. Easter is a celebration of hope, of new life, and the power of love, the affirmation of how non-violence triumphed over fear and the addiction to power and bullying-violence that fueled it. In Jesus’ day it was the triumph of God over the ways of the Roman Empire and their oppression of those who didn’t support them. Easter is the proclamation that choosing the power of love over the love of power actually works. Our story sometimes feels like a fairy tale. Still, the Easter proclamation is a power that sustains us profoundly on life’s journey.

In this hemisphere it always feels like creation is joining in the Easter proclamation as crocus blossoms fill the front yard and daffodils and lilies begin pushing up. This year, with Easter arriving so late, the weather and sun’s lengthening days all reinforce the feeling that creation is sharing in the glorious witness. This year those thoughts were given pause while talking with Berit in the southern hemisphere. I’m reminded that not all people get to see the same signs around them. Down-under, the days are shortening and fall is unfolding. It makes me wonder how churches decorate for Easter, or think about all of creation joining in the exultation. It is a clear reminder that our Easter promise isn’t rooted in external realities but rather, in an unseen promise of a love of God that will not end.

Last week we finished a four-part series on Dietrich Bonhoeffer. The last session spoke of how his faith sustained him as he was imprisoned by the Nazis for having been involved in underground operations trying to smuggle Jews to safety. He was imprisoned for trying to live his faith. From prison he wrote: “I believe that God can and will bring good out of evil, even out of the greatest evil. For that purpose he needs men who make the best use of everything. I believe that God will give us all the strength we need to help us to resist in all time of distress. But he never gives it in advance, lest we should rely on ourselves and not on him alone.” Bonhoeffer spoke of a depth and humility of faith that can too easily get lost in a world that abuses faith for political ends instead of relying on it as the strength to live God's kingdom ways.

In our study we also encountered a quote from Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist Viktor Frankl who wrote: “the last of the human freedom – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way … Fundamentally, therefore, any man can, even under such circumstances, decide what shall become of him – mentally and spiritually. He may retain his human dignity even in a concentration camp.

Our world is not always crocuses and daffodils and lengthening days. Lots of times the world feels dark and fearful, broken and exhausting. And Easter’s proclamation bursts into that world even more vigorously. Love is the answer. The selfless, humble way of Jesus wins over and over again.

The proclamation of Easter isn’t dependent on external forces of seasons or proclamations. It is the transformative love of God that we are invited to proclaim with the fullness of our beings. We are directed to live out the command of Maundy Thursday, to love one another as Jesus loves us. The resurrection is the proclamation of a grace for all - without cost, without prejudice, or division, dehumanizing or the diminishing of another. The resurrection promises power to Jesus’ demand to love one another. The cost of that radical, extravagant love was death. But the story of God in which we find hope to be bold, is that He has indeed Risen! That is the victory of Jesus way over the ways of the empire and a broken world. May we choose that freedom and that proclamation.

From the Pastor’s Study - April 2025

The journey of Lent is supposed to challenge us to deepen our faith and draw closer to the power and the love of God. Each week on Wednesday night, we gather to sing Holden Evening Prayer and hear Mary’s bold “yes” to God's request to be God's servant. Mary’s song continues with a vision that reverses the ways of the world. My love for those sung words grows with each passing season. I now see them as such a gift as we journey in Lent and approach Holy Week. It feels strange sometimes to sing of Jesus' birth as we prepare for his death. But the whole point of his ministry and the whole reason that he will be executed by the state is because of the radical good news of his existence.

Jesus came to offer us a different way of being and loving, but every generation has tried to find the loopholes in his message. I struggle to understand why God's extravagant love should be so hard… but it seems that something in our human condition loves tribalism more than we love God. Even on the cross, Jesus challenges us to overcome our stereotypes and divisions. Think about what it means to follow someone who looks at the very soldiers who are crucifying him and proclaims: “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” Imagine Jesus looking to the criminal beside him who confesses to committing a crime and sharing that compassionate grace: “Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

I don’t know what will be happening in our world by the time that you read this article, but I can imagine that God’s extravagant grace will be under attack at least as much as it is today. We’ve heard of the rewriting of history to expunge transgender people from the history of Stonewall, of the demonization of immigrants and refugees, of an attack on any acknowledgement or examination of the uncomfortable parts of our nation’s history. For goodness’ sake, Jesus challenges the history and practices of his own tradition, and we certainly should be doing the same. As followers of Jesus, we ought to be the first ones hungering for justice instead of hiding from it. I have always been so proud of our denomination for being at the forefront of offering apologies for injustices on behalf of the church… it’s hard, and it’s what Jesus’ gospel calls us to embrace.

Throughout history we have seen dominant groups demonize others to gain power or privilege. The group changes, regularly, but the usefulness of targeting and demonizing others remains. Jesus lived a life of God's extravagant love and grace and every generation crucifies that message over and over again.

There was a pastor named Martin Niemöller in Germany in the second world war who is often quoted.. His famous words are transcribed on the wall of the US Holocaust Memorial Museum:

First they came for the Communists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Communist

Then they came for the Socialists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Socialist

Then they came for the trade unionists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a trade unionist

Then they came for the Jews

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Jew

Then they came for me

And there was no one left

To speak out for me.

Diana Butler Bass, historian, theologian, and writer reminds us that: “Pastor Niemöller … was a German nationalist who, in the 1920s and early 1930s, supported Hitler and the Nazis. He hated Communism and socialism and workers — he believed that they had betrayed Germany in the aftermath of WWI. He worked against the Weimar Republic, thinking it to be politically weak and corrupt. Indeed, Niemöller voted for the Nazis, even in the 1933 elections which handed Germany over to Hitler.

But Niemöller began to change his mind when Hitler interfered with church policies and applied racial tests to both clergy and laity, even insisting that German churches refrain from teaching or reading from the Old Testament.

Niemöller’s resistance started when the Nazis applied their brutal and racist agenda to the church — Niemöller’s church, the community he most cared about, was vowed to serve, and lead.

Then, he realized that they were coming for him, too. It took him a while. It was a process. But he spoke out. He preached against Hitler and Nazism. He was one of the founders of the Confessing Church. He was detained several times between 1934 and 1937. Then, in 1937, he was arrested for treason and spent the next seven years in various prisons and concentration camps, including Dachau.”

Niemöller changed his mind and he changed his perspective… I would say that he finally woke up to understand Jesus’ command to see the other as also beloved of God. He needed to be reminded not to allow God's extravagant grace to be abused out of fear or hunger for power or privilege.

We are called to be as bold in our love as Jesus. The promise is that this love cannot be killed. That’s the proclamation of Easter! We start in love, and we return to love… but in between, we must choose how we will live and who we will follow. Lent calls us to that journey and the cross drives our choices home. Are we willing to change ourselves to embrace God's ways if it means loving beyond our comfort zone? Our faith is a story of death and resurrection. Often what needs to die are the parts within ourselves that are unwilling to be changed by love and grace. Let hate, fear, prejudice, and divisions die so that we might share in the rebirth of God's enduring promise of grace. Amen.