Mount Hope Lutheran Church - Bend, OR

Mount Hope Lutheran Church - Bend, OR Mount Hope guides Bend forward in the certain hope of Jesus Christ through faithful teaching and generous service. Join us Sundays at 9:30 a.m.

05/29/2026

The ocean is deep, mysterious, and powerful. There are approximately 326 million trillion gallons of water on Earth (326,000,000,000,000,000,000 gallons). That's a lot of water.

Now imagine going to the ocean with a 16-ounce water bottle and filling it to the brim. What percentage of the ocean would you be holding in your bottle? The answer is an incomprehensibly small fraction.

But here's something even more astonishing: there are roughly 1,400 times more water molecules in that single 16-ounce bottle of water than there are 16-ounce bottles of water in all the oceans of the world. Don't think too hard about that—it might start to hurt your brain.

In creation, God has given us evidence of who he is. Through our natural knowledge of God, we stand in awe of his power, wisdom, and majesty—and rightly so. Standing at the ocean while holding a small bottle of water can serve as a helpful picture of our relationship to God. Even if we were to fill ourselves with everything God has revealed about himself, it would still be like comparing a 16oz bottle of water to the ocean.

Make no mistake, what God has revealed to us and filled us with is wondrous beyond measure! In fact, His Word makes us "wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus" (2 Timothy 3:15). Yet, compared to the fullness of who the omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, eternal God is, our knowledge remains infinitesimally small. We cannot contain the wonders of God within our finite minds any more than we could contain the ocean in a water bottle.

Yet even that illustration falls short.

We think of the ocean as vast and immeasurable. But if all the water on Earth were gathered into a single sphere, it would form a ball only about 860 miles across. Against the backdrop of the universe, that sphere would be little more than a microscopic speck. How much more impossible is it, then, to imagine containing the Triune God—who fills the universe —within the limits of a human mind?

With that understanding, Paul's prayer in Ephesians becomes an enormous request! He prays "that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith... and that you would be able to comprehend, along with all the saints, how wide and long and high and deep his love is... and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled to all the fullness of God." (Ephesians 3:17-19)

Think about what Paul is asking. He prays that we would comprehend what surpasses comprehension. He asks that we would know what exceeds human knowledge. Christ's love is so immense that it can never be fully measured, yet Paul prays that we would spend our lives growing in our appreciation of its width, length, height, and depth.

As Christians, we believe in the Triune God—not because we fully understand Him, but because he has revealed Himself to us. And what He has revealed is wondrous! Sometimes we forget that it’s ok to say, “I don’t know how… but I believe because God said so!” That is why he stand in holy awe at the things of God. That is why we worship.

When it comes to the doctrine of the Trinity and the mysteries of God, we are often tempted to treat them like puzzles to be solved. We look for simple explanations and tidy analogies to things impossibly deep. Throughout history, countless people have attempted to explain the Trinity of God with clever illustrations. Yet attempts to simplify the Trinity often results in heresy. Arianism, Modalism, Tritheism, Adoptionism, and countless other errors arose when people tried to fit the infinite God into the confines of human reason. We would like to create God in our image. We would like to put God in a little box that we are comfortable with and can carry around in our pocket.

That’s why the doctrine of the Trinity is so important! The doctrine of the Trinity is intended to make us stand in awe of God not bring him down to our level. Three persons in one God and one God in three persons. It is a doctrine that lifts our eyes upward in wonder and worship.

And yet, in love, God did something even more astonishing. The One who fills the universe did what no human mind could ever imagine. He contained what filled the universe in a human body. True God and true man. The eternal Son of God became fully man while remaining fully God. The infinite entered the finite. The Creator stepped into his creation. The Lord of all humbled himself to live among us. Incarnation. Mind. Blown

He did it not because we could understand it. He did it because he loved us. God sent his Son to be just like us and live the perfect life we could not live. He came to suffer the punishment we deserved as our perfect substitute. He died for our sins and rose again on the third day to assure us of his victory and our salvation. The God whose greatness surpasses our human understanding performed the greatest wonder of all: he came to save us.

And that is why Paul prays that we would grasp "how wide and long and high and deep" Christ's love is. We will never fully comprehend it. We will spend eternity worshipping Him for it. Yet every day until then we can grow deeper in our appreciation of this truth: The God who is beyond all human understanding loves us wider, longer, higher and deeper than we can possibly imagine…to God be the glory!

A few weeks ago, my friend Bill Teska posted a picture of a wooden spoon and spatula he had carved from maple burl. Inst...
05/21/2026

A few weeks ago, my friend Bill Teska posted a picture of a wooden spoon and spatula he had carved from maple burl. Instantly, I was taken back to my grandparents’ living room, where a giant wooden spoon and fork hung on the wall. As a child, I always wondered why.

Later I learned there is an old story behind them.

Imagine a magnificent banquet hall filled with the finest food imaginable. The aroma is overwhelming, and everyone is starving. But there’s a problem: every guest sits too far away to reach the table with a chasm a thousand feet deep separating them from the table. Instead, each person is given a wooden spoon and fork nearly ten feet long.

The meal begins. People try desperately to feed themselves, but the utensils are too awkward. Frustration turns to anger. Fights erupt. Food flies everywhere. In the end, no one eats, even though there is more than enough food for everyone.

Welcome to “the banquet of hell.”

Now imagine another banquet hall. Same feast. Same oversized utensils. But this time, the guests have learned something different.

Instead of trying to feed themselves, they feed one another.

One person lifts food to a neighbor’s mouth. Two people work together to help a third. Those who are fed begin feeding others in return. And in the end, everyone is satisfied.

Welcome to “the banquet of heaven.”

I think that’s what the spoon and fork on my grandparents’ wall were meant to represent.

Perhaps this is the kind of servant-hearted love Jesus had in mind when he said, “Feed my sheep,” and when Scripture calls believers to “submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” In Christ, we belong to one another. The gifts we’ve been given are not for exalting ourselves, but for serving others in love.

And we need not fear being last, because at the feast of heaven, “the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

So come to the feast. Come hungry. Come ready to serve. Come ready to be fed. Come knowing there is a place prepared for you at the Lamb’s wedding feast, where mercy never runs dry, joy never fades, and the Savior who gave himself for you welcomes you home forever.

A few weeks ago, my friend, Bill Teska, posted a picture on Facebook of a wooden spoon and spatula he had made and engra...
05/21/2026

A few weeks ago, my friend, Bill Teska, posted a picture on Facebook of a wooden spoon and spatula he had made and engraved from a piece of maple burl. Seeing those wooden utensils immediately took me back to my grandparents’ living room, where a large wooden spoon and fork hung prominently on the wall as decoration. As a child, I always wondered about that unusual decorating choice…

But it turns out there is a story behind the large wooden spoon and fork.

Picture this scene in your mind’s eye: a great banquet hall, prepared with the finest furnishings, while a meal crafted by the world’s best chefs fills the air with an aroma so wonderful you can almost taste it. And you are hungry. Not merely “it’s dinnertime” hungry, but “I haven’t eaten in three days” hungry.

Yet something is terribly wrong.

Every person is seated five feet away from the table, with a chasm a thousand feet deep separating them from the food! No one can reach the table with their hands. Instead, each guest is given a large wooden spoon and fork unlike anything they have ever seen—each utensil nearly six feet long!

You can imagine what happens when the meal begins. Even those strong enough to lift the utensils cannot maneuver them into their own mouths. Soon guests begin bumping into one another in desperate attempts to eat. Frustration turns to chaos, chaos to anger. Fights erupt. Food spills everywhere. In the end, no one eats, even though there is more than enough food for everyone.

Welcome to “the banquet of hell.”

Really? Was that what my grandparents’ wall art was meant to represent? Not quite…

Now picture another great banquet hall. The room is identical. The feast is the same. Even the oversized wooden spoons and forks remain. But here, the guests have learned something the others never understood.

No one is fighting. Instead, one person uses his long spoon to feed the person across from him. Those strong enough to lift the utensils carefully guide food to a neighbor’s mouth. At times, two people work together to lift a fork and feed a third person, who in turn helps feed those who first fed him.

And in the end, everyone eats well. There is plenty for all. Every guest is satisfied because they have learned to serve one another.

Welcome to “the banquet of heaven.”

I think that is what the wooden spoon and fork hanging on my grandparents’ wall were meant to remind them of.

Perhaps this is exactly the kind of humility and servant-hearted love Jesus had in mind when he told his disciples, “Feed my sheep,” and when Scripture calls believers to “submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” After all, “in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given us” not to exalt ourselves, but to serve one another in love. “If it is serving, let him serve… if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously” (John 21; Ephesians 5; Romans 12).And we need not worry about being first, because at the feast of heaven “those who are last will be first, and those who are first will be last.” (Matt. 20:16)

So come to the feast. Come hungry. Come ready to serve. Come ready to be fed. Come knowing there is a place prepared for you at the Lamb’s wedding feast, where mercy never runs dry, joy never fades, and the Savior who gave himself for you will welcome you home forever.

05/07/2026

Last Saturday, something absolutely incredible happened. Did you see it?

I have to admit, I didn’t realize what had happened until I watched the replay. A horse named Golden Tempo won the Kentucky Derby. A 23-1 longshot, he was not only not supposed to win, but coming into the stretch, it looked like he had absolutely no chance to win. He was in dead last place.

And then the incredible happened. The dead rose.! And the last became first.

Down the stretch, that horse ran like victory already belonged to him and he had simply been waiting for that moment. Honestly, that’s how I envision myself running to heaven one day — “in the stretch,” straining toward what is ahead to win the prize which Christ has taken hold of for me and called me heavenward.

Which is funny, because if you know me, you know I hate running. But thankfully, winning this race has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Jesus!

Scripture talks a lot about our lives as Christians being a race that we are running… and many times it doesn’t feel like we are winning. Many times, it feels like we are in dead last place. Buried beneath worries, fears, failures, stress, regrets, doubts, struggles, and troubles. Days when it feels like everyone else is ahead while we are barely hanging on — spiritually exhausted, emotionally drained, wondering if we can even keep going.

And that’s why we need this encouragement from the Apostle Paul. It’s almost like he’s “up in the booth,” calling the race and encouraging us: “Forget what is behind and strain toward what is ahead… press on toward the goal.” — Philippians 3:13-14

Sometimes we forget why we are running this race. We are not running from our past — past sins, past failures, past regrets. And we are not running from death, even though at times it feels like it’s chasing us. We are not even running from the devil, though he desperately wants us to lose heart.

No, we run because Jesus has already won. Those things no longer define what is behind us because Jesus paid for all sin, defeated the devil, and destroyed death when he cried out, “It is finished!” and then rose again on the third day.

So remember this: “When the devil keeps asking you to look in the past, there’s something in the future he doesn’t want you to see.”

And what is ahead? Heaven! That is the goal. That is the finish line. That is the prize Christ has already won for you.

The Christian life is not about running in fear, but running in joyful anticipation. We are not merely running from something — we are running to Someone. To Jesus, who has already won the race for us.
So fix your eyes on him. It’s not up to you to win this race. You just stay in the race, and Jesus will make sure you win.

Stay in his Word. Gather with his people. Receive his promises. Listen to the voices of that “great cloud of witnesses” cheering you on through the Gospel, reminding you not to grow weary or lose heart.

And keep running! Not perfectly. Not flawlessly. But faithfully. Run like you’ve already won the race… because you have!

So even when life feels like you’re stuck in last place, remember: the stretch is coming. And when that moment arrives, the incredible will happen. The dead last shall be first. And you will win the prize to which God has called you heavenward.

And that’s not a longshot.

That’s a guarantee.

04/30/2026

Do you know what today is? Today is the tomorrow that you were so worried about yesterday… so don’t worry about yesterday or tomorrow today because you can’t change yesterday and you can only ruin today by worrying about tomorrow!

I think David said it better… “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want…” I shall not worry. I shall not doubt. I shall not fear. And shall not want for anything - yesterday, today, or tomorrow.

We all know the 23rd Psalm, but do we know the Shepherd? We say, “The Lord is my Shepherd…” but when was the last time you went to lie down in your bed at night, not wanting? No doubts. No worries. No fear. Nothing. No physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, financial, political, familial doubts, worries, or fears. NOTHING.

I would probably have to go back to my toddler years to find the last time that I could honestly say, “I have no wants…” And that’s a shame, because God wants us to live every day of our lives with that glorious trusting mindset of a toddler.

Maybe that is why we love the hymn, “I am Jesus Little Lamb”. Not sheep. Lambs. Toddlers.

“I am Jesus little lamb,
Ever glad at heart I am;
For my Shepherd gently guides me,
Knows my needs, and well provides me,
Loves me every day the same,
Even calls me by my name.”

To this you were called. But how often does our life really look like that? I mean, it wasn’t that long ago that we were hoarding toilet paper in fear we’d have to go without! I think we all need to be reminded that the Lord is in control. And I think we want that! I think we’d all love to again have the carefree life of a lamb/toddler. And in Christ we do! But do we always believe it?

We all want someone to love us fiercely and forever… the way only the Good Shepherd can. We all want someone stronger and wiser to take care of us. We all want someone to reassure us that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, everything is going to be OK. We all want to be like little children again, tucked in bed with no cares or worries to make our minds too busy to sleep. Do you want that? I do! And that is exactly what we already have when we know and believe that “The Lord is my shepherd.”

But sometimes we forget what we already have. Sometimes our lives get to be so busy and complicated and overwhelming that we cannot enjoy them -- bills to pay, places to go, people to see, jobs to do, problems to address, and on and on. In fact, so much so that we forget that the sheep and lambs don’t determine the direction or provide the protection; only the shepherd does.

The secret to the sheep's contentment is not in all the things around it -- the green pastures or the cool streams -- rather, the secret to the sheep’s contentment is trusting in their shepherd to provide all their wants and needs.

And perhaps, that’s our problem. Maybe, just maybe, too often we believe that our contentment comes from our circumstances instead of from the Shepherd. I don’t think that humanity will ever outgrow its need and yearning for someone to love us fiercely and forever… the way only the Good Shepherd can.

What a blessing it is to say, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.”

You know the Psalm, but do you know the Shepherd? Because when you know the Shepherd, you can finally rest… not just someday, but today. Not because life is simple, but because He is faithful. Not because you have everything under control, but because He does.

And that means today—the very day you were worried about yesterday —can be lived in peace… and not just today, but tomorrow, and the next day, and forever. Because the Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.

04/23/2026

When I was young, I remember going for a walk with my father deep in the woods of northern Wisconsin. Long into our walk, he suddenly turned to me and asked, “How far are we from home?”
“I don’t know,” I replied.
We walked a little farther, and he asked, “Well, where are you?”
“I don’t know,” I answered again.
We kept walking until it began to get dark, and he asked, “Which way is home?”
“I don’t know,” I said once more.
“Sounds to me as if you’re lost,” my father said.
“Nope,” I replied. “You’re with me, and you know how to get home.”

My father had walked those woods many times. He knew the way home—even in the dark. And the fact that he was with me was all that mattered.

That’s the comfort of Psalm 23: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4).

In Arabic, this kind of “valley of shadows” is called a "siq". These are formed when rain erodes soft desert sandstone. The most famous siq is the dramatic entrance to the ancient city of Petra in Jordan. The siq at Petra is over a mile long and hundreds of feet deep, yet in some places it is only five feet wide at the bottom. It is so deep, narrow, and winding that from the floor, you often cannot see the sky.

You might think that after trudging through the blazing heat of the desert, sheep would welcome the relief of such a cool, dark valley. But sheep are easily frightened animals, and when they pass from the overpowering brightness of the desert into the darkness of such a valley, they are not relieved but terrified by what we call the “fear of the unknown.”

There is a parallel to our own experience as we pass from this life to eternal life. Many aspects of life in this world can be compared to a weary journey under the blazing sun through a harsh and oppressive desert... a wilderness. However, it is all we have ever known.

So, we fear going through the shadow of death, even though the Bible tells us that in heaven, “The sun will not beat down on them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; ‘he will lead them to springs of living water.’ And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (Revelation 7:16–17).

You might think that after enduring the troubles and sufferings of this life, we would welcome the change. But like sheep entering a dark valley, when we pass from this world into the next, it is natural to feel a fear of the unknown, because death takes us into something we have never experienced before. And here is what makes our Good Shepherd so very good!

A good shepherd never leads his sheep through a place he has not gone before. He knows the terrain, scouts the path, and goes ahead to prepare the way.

On the night before his suffering and death, Jesus told his disciples, “My children, I will be with you only a little longer… Where I am going, you cannot follow now, but you will follow later… Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms… I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you to be with me, that you also may be where I am” (John 14:1–4).

Your Good Shepherd has gone ahead of you—through death and the grave—to prepare the way. Because of his perfect life, his sacrificial death, and his resurrection on Easter morning, nothing stands between you and heaven. Your sins are forgiven, and the kingdom of heaven is open to you and to all who believe. So when you enter death’s dark valley, do not be afraid. Your Good Shepherd is not only with you—he has walked this path before. He knows the way home… even in the dark.

04/17/2026

If you’re a hiker in the PNW you may have heard of Mailbox Peak mentioned in slightly hushed tones, the kind reserved for stories about some legendary place, trauma, or achievement. It’s a hike not for the weak of mind, heart or body. What inspires such reverence? It’s really not the view… it’s the challenge which hiking to this peak provides. The original route, which entails 4,000 feet of elevation gain in less than three miles was considered so difficult and dangerous that the state of Washington thankfully created a newer, gentler trail that takes twice as much distance to achieve the summit… but you won’t die doing it. Yet to those who know, to those who remember, to those who have attempted it - nothing will permanently erase the original trail's fearsome reputation to reach a mailbox.

In fact, this is how Mailbox Peak trail is described on WA Trail Association website: “A rough climber’s route, it is an unrelentingly steep, rooted, rocky, muddy torture test, a crucible in which the summits of summer are forged. More than almost any other trail, it assaults gravity with single-minded determination, proceeding more or less due east straight up a ridgeline to the summit, there is nary a switchback in sight gaining almost 4000 feet in two and a half miles.” Who in their right mind would read that and still want to go? Well, many still try. Some succeed. Some fail.
But there is one “hike” no one could do. Many have attempted the climb of human effort toward God—some confident, some cautious—but all have fallen short. This ascent doesn’t just demand endurance; it requires perfection. The summit is nothing less than the presence of a holy God, and anything less than perfect righteousness cannot stand there. As Scripture says, “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” and “the wages of sin is death.” Who, understanding that, would still dare to attempt the climb?
That’s what makes the Gospel accounts so striking. Jesus knew exactly what awaited him in Jerusalem—every detail of the suffering, rejection, death and hell that stood before him—and still he went. Luke tells us, “As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51). Where no one else could climb, Jesus set his face and went forward—for us. This was the reason he had been born. In fact, Jesus love for the world was so great that he still went to the cross knowing that many would never love him back. THAT is true love.
Jesus stepped into the ultimate crucible—the one we could never endure. He allowed himself to be arrested, mocked, spit upon, and scourged as sin, death, and the devil unleashed their full weight against him. And then, on a Mount called Calvary, he was lifted up on the cross and gave up everything for us, so that in him we might receive everything the Father promises: forgiveness, new life, and eternal life. In other words, you don’t have to spend your life striving to earn what God has already given.

That is exactly what Jesus has done. He has taken the impossible terrain of sin and death and reshaped it completely. The steep climbs have been cut down, the deep valleys filled in, and the jagged, dangerous path made smooth and passable. (Isaiah 40:4-5) What once felt like an exhausting, hopeless ascent has become a sure and steady path carved out by Christ himself. And where does it lead? Past the cross, through the empty tomb, and all the way to eternal life itself. This isn’t a hike you have to fear—it’s one for you to enjoy. And the best part? You don’t walk it alone—he walks with you every step of the way. His Way!

04/09/2026

It’s almost rodeo season again in the high desert, so this is a good time to remember an old rule among cowboys—whether on the ranch or at the rodeo: “Never… lasso your rope onto anything that you can’t get it off of.”

That’s the wisdom a father shared with his young son as he handed him his first rope and tied a lasso for him. Yet, that evening, the young boy hid behind a chair and attempted to lasso his little sister’s foot as she walked through the room. It was great fun, and according to him, it fell within the parameters of the rule… because he knew he could get the rope off his little sister.

It was great fun—until the door opened. Assuming it was his sister, he lassoed the foot he saw and pulled hard, only to hear a tremendous crash. It was his mother. She had been carrying a tray with coffee and cups for their guests. Instantly, the boy knew he had broken the one rule of roping—he had lassoed something he couldn’t get the rope off of. He thought about that that night as his mother cut his brand-new rope into little tiny pieces...

"So they bound him, led him away and handed him over to Pilate the governor." (Matthew 27:2)

Perhaps someone should have told that to the men who arrested Jesus and “bound Him”: “Never… lasso your rope onto anything that you can’t get it off of.” What would Jesus do in that moment? Obviously, the Roman soldiers and the Jewish leaders had no idea who they were attempting to bind. Did they really think that a rope was going to secure the One who sits above the circle of the earth, who measures the mountains on a scale, and holds the seas in the palm of His hand? Really? A rope?

No, the Roman soldiers didn’t bind Jesus. His love for us allowed Him to be bound so that we could be unbound. He allowed Himself to be punished so that we could be forgiven. He allowed Himself to die and be buried so that we could live. Did you ever notice how the most crucial moments in Jesus’ passion are His greatest examples of passive obedience and need no explanation? “And they bound Him. And they crucified Him. And they buried him."

But death could not hold Him. Jesus burst the bonds of that three-day prison as effortlessly as He could have broken the ropes in Gethsemane. The grave could not bind Jesus, and the grave cannot bind those who trust in Him. In fact, right before his arrest, Jesus made this great promise: "Because I live, you also will live." (John 14:19)

Christ Jesus lay in death’s strong bands,
for our offenses given;
but now at God’s right hand He stands
and brings us light from heaven.
Therefore let us joyful be
and sing to God right thankfully
loud songs of hallelujah. Hallelujah! (CW Hymn 439)

So remember that old cowboy rule—don't bind yourself to things that can destroy you, rather bind yourself to the one who can save you! Jesus willingly allowed Himself to be “bound” by sin, death, and the grave—things no one else could ever escape—so that He could destroy them. And like that rope cut into pieces, sin, death, and the grave have been destroyed by His resurrection, never to bind us again. Hallelujah!

He Is Risen! Easter morning worship at 9:30 am at Mount Hope Bend. Easter breakfast to follow. Everyone is welcome!
04/05/2026

He Is Risen! Easter morning worship at 9:30 am at Mount Hope Bend. Easter breakfast to follow. Everyone is welcome!

Come and see—and hear—just how deeply Jesus loves you. Reflect on the incredible sacrifice He made on the cross and disc...
04/03/2026

Come and see—and hear—just how deeply Jesus loves you. Reflect on the incredible sacrifice He made on the cross and discover what makes this Friday so Good! We have planned a very special service for you and your family.
Join us for Mount Hope Good Friday Worship
🕊️ 6:00 PM
📍 2863 NW Crossing Drive, Bend

Address

2863 NW Crossing Drive
Bend, OR
97703

Opening Hours

Monday 9am - 5pm
Tuesday 9am - 5pm
Wednesday 9am - 5pm
Thursday 9am - 5pm
Friday 9am - 5pm
Saturday 9am - 5pm
Sunday 9:30am - 11:30am

Telephone

+15032906316

Website

https://www.instagram.com/mthopebend

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