Tidings of Peace

May, 2004

Pastor Johnson’s Message: Remembering Clarence

Dear friends,

It is always sad to say goodbye to someone we love, but I know we have a special grief at the death of Pastor Clarence Paulsen. What a remarkable presence and witness he has been to us for so many years! Yet is has occurred to me in the days since his death that there are many in the congregation, especially our newer members, who may not have known him well; and so you will indulge me, I hope, if I take my space this time to tell you about Clarence.

Clarence was born on a farm in Blair, NE, and he grew up in that predominantly Danish town. Blair was the center of the United Evangelical Lutheran Church (UELC), one of the Danish-language churches that ultimately became part of our Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. Clarence went to the UELC’s Dana College in Blair, then transferred to Augsburg College in Minneapolis. Then he returned to Blair to attend the UELC’s Trinity Seminary.

He was ordained in 1943, and served St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Neola (8 years); Westwood Lutheran Church, Kansas City, KS (7 years); St. Ansgar Lutheran Church, Toronto, Canada (8 years); and Prince of Peace Lutheran Church, Ontario, CA (14 years). He also served several months as interim pastor here at Peace back in 1984.

While he was in seminary, Clarence married Ethel Petersen, a good Lutheran girl from the Fresno area. He had met her while working a summer job picking fruit in the Valley. They had four children. Ethel died of cancer while they lived in Ontario, and Clarence married Beverly Gibbs, also a widow, who was a member of his congregation. Bev’s three children were all still at home and became part of Clarence’s family as well. They retired to Nevada County in 1980—immediately establishing a home on Banner Mountain, and a home at Peace Lutheran Church, and a home in all of our hearts.

Clarence sometimes said that his true vocation was as a builder. He was involved in a building program in every one of his parishes—he built two sanctuaries, and two parsonages. He built their retirement home, almost entirely with his own hands. He chaired the building committee for our new sanctuary here at Peace back in 1992-93. At the time of his death, he was serving on the building committee we have currently working toward a new fellowship hall and other facilities.

Many of us have spent a lot of time remembering Clarence these last several days. He was not an especially flashy person. But he was a beacon of humility and grace in all that he did. He was a true a servant of our Lord. I’ve said in several contexts that I will especially remember his prayers. When asked to open a meeting with prayer, he almost always began with these words: "We thank thee, O Lord, for another day of grace." With Clarence, every day was a day of grace. God grant that we may all learn to see life that way.

At his memorial service, we will sing one of the greatest of the Danish Lutheran hymns, "O Day Full of Grace." I love especially the last verse, and it is a fitting way to say goodbye to Clarence:

When we on that final journey go

that Christ is for us preparing,

We’ll gather in songs, our hearts aglow,

All joy of the heavens sharing,

And walk in the light of God’s own place,

With angels his name adoring.

Peace to you,

Pastor Richard O. Johnson

Classic Prayers

O God, who hast commanded us to be perfect, as Thou art perfect; put into my heart, I pray Thee, a continual desire to obey Thy holy will. Teach me day by day what Thou wouldst have me to do, and give me grace and power to fulfill the same. May I never from love of ease, decline the path which Thou pointest out, nor, for fear of shame, turn away from it. Amen.

--Henry Alford (1810-1871)

English Biblical scholar

Liturgy Notes: Why the Liturgy?

Often a visitor to Peace or any other Lutheran congregation will remark about the liturgy. If the person is from a “non-liturgical” background, the remark may be something like, “Why do you follow that same formal pattern every week?” That’s an interesting question, and one that deserves some reflection.

One kind of answer might be historical. Lutherans follow a liturgy because that is what most Christians have done down through the centuries. It is a tradition taken from Judaism, not unique to Judaism or Christianity. Many, perhaps most, religious traditions have developed liturgies or rituals to guide them in their worship. Indeed, it was only after the time of the Reformation that some Christian groups decided that liturgies were too confining, and so began to experiment with more “free form” worship. Yet even the least “liturgical” churches tend to do things pretty much the same way from Sunday to Sunday; perhaps it isn’t written down in a book, but the pattern, the order, and even the words don’t vary much.

Another answer might be theological. We follow a liturgy because we have found that doing so is one very strong protection against wandering away from the truth that we confess as Christians. The liturgy reminds us, week after week, of the foundations of our faith. It keeps us from substituting our own ideas or desires for the teachings of Christianity. When we confess our sins at the beginning of worship, it reminds us that we, in fact, are sinners, and must come before God on that basis; no room there for deciding some Sunday that this week we’ve in fact been pretty good and God must be proud of us! When we recite the Creed, it recalls for us the fundamentals of our faith; no room there for straying off into modern beliefs that see Jesus as a good teacher, but not as the Son of God. In a way, the liturgy is like a railroad track: it keeps us moving the right direction in our worship life.

A third answer has to do with unity. We follow a liturgy because by doing so we are proclaiming our oneness with other Christians who believe as we do. We know that we are gathered, not just with those who are within the same four walls, but with all those who on any given Sunday are hearing the same lessons, praying the same prayers. We are joining together with a great company of God’s people.

A fourth answer has to do with realism about human beings. The liturgy lifts me from my own space and stands me up in front of the Living God--whether I want to be there or not! There are days that I don’t really feel like praising God. The liturgy demands that I stand before God and sing “glory to

God”! And while I don’t want to do that, it is good for me to do it; it raises my eyes from my own problems and concerns and places them instead on God. There are days I don’t feel like being part of a community; I’d rather sit in a corner. The liturgy pulls me out of myself and speaks God’s word: “It is not good for you to be alone!” At every turn, the liturgy confronts my human weaknesses and faults, and forces me to address them in an appropriate way.

A final answer is that the liturgy is a good educational process. Sometimes people complain that it is just “rote recitation.” But isn’t that how we learn? We may pray those words, “Our Father, who art in heaven”--and when will we really know the truth they proclaim? After a dozen times? After a hundred? After a thousand? We human beings simply need to repeat things, over and over again. That is how we learn.

C. S. Lewis once made an interesting observation in explaining his own devotion to the liturgy of the church as opposed to more “free form” worship:

We do...things best...when, through long familiarity, we don’t have to think about it. As long as you notice, and have to count the steps, you are not yet dancing but only learning to dance. A good shoe is a shoe you don’t notice. Good reading becomes possible when you need not consciously think about eyes, or light, or print, or spelling. The perfect church service would be the one we were almost unaware of; our attention would have been on God...I can make do with almost any kind of service whatever, if only it will stay put. But if each form is snatched away just when I am beginning to feel at home in it, then I can never make any progress in the art of worship.

“Feeling at home in it”--that’s a great phrase for the liturgy! For us human beings, what is comfortable is what makes us feel at home. At its best, the liturgy becomes that for us--a comforting, reliable place where we can feel at home. And in feeling at home, we can direct all our attention toward God.