Freeborn Lutheran Church

09/08/2026

For those of you who knew Mary Jo Wolden, her memorial service will be next Saturday (12 September) at Fir-Conway Lutheran Church starting at 1:00 PM.

09/04/2026

A wonderful message from “Farmer Girl” and a primer for this Sunday’s sermon on what authentic Christian community looks like and requires of us:

“Okay, Christians, I think sometimes we need to remember that people are watching us.

And I don't mean that in the slightly terrifying “someone saw you lose your patience in the Walmart parking lot” kind of way. I mean people are watching how Christians talk to each other, how we talk about people who believe differently than we do, how we respond when someone asks a difficult question, and how quickly a conversation about theology can turn into two Christians standing on opposite sides yelling, “I HAVE THE BIBLE,” while both of them are holding the exact same Bible.

And then we wonder why somebody watching all of this says, “Yeah. Absolutely not.”

Because sometimes I look at the way Christians interact and I understand why people want nothing to do with Christianity. Not because there is something wrong with Jesus, but because sometimes we are doing an absolutely terrible job of showing people Jesus. We can become so determined to prove that I am right and you are wrong that somewhere along the way the person standing in front of us stops being a person and becomes an argument we need to win. Calvinist. Arminian. Catholic. Protestant. Baptist. Reformed. Pentecostal. Young earth. Old earth. Pretrib. Midtrib. Posttrib. Sons of God were angels. Sons of God were humans. Somebody asks one question about the Book of Enoch and suddenly half the internet is preparing the theological trebuchet.

Guys.

God is bigger than the little box we keep trying to put Him in.

That doesn't mean truth doesn't matter. It absolutely matters. It doesn't mean every belief is equally true, every interpretation is correct, or we should shrug our shoulders and say, “Eh, believe whatever makes you happy.” Jesus made enormous truth claims. Scripture gives us things that aren't negotiable. But there is a very large difference between standing firmly on what Scripture clearly says and pretending my interpretation of every difficult passage must also be infallible.

Those are not the same thing.

Sometimes the most biblically responsible answer is, “I don't know.”

Sometimes it is, “There are several ways Christians understand this.”

Sometimes it is, “I used to believe that, but then I learned something that made me reconsider it.”

And somehow Christians can get nervous about saying those things, as though admitting we don't completely understand the infinite God who created the universe is going to be terribly embarrassing for Him.

I promise you, God is not sitting in heaven worried that somebody discovered Genesis 6 is complicated.

We should be willing to learn. We should understand what atheists actually believe before arguing with an atheist. We should understand Islam before telling a Muslim what Muslims believe. We should know where stories like Lilith came from before confidently announcing what they supposedly prove. We should know what the Book of Enoch actually is before either declaring it secret Scripture that the church hid from us or acting like reading three pages of it will cause lightning to strike the house.

And sometimes we should learn simply because the person standing in front of us matters.

Paul understood that.

In Acts 17, when he stood in Athens surrounded by pagan temples and idols, he didn't walk into the city, cover his ears, and announce, “I refuse to learn anything about your beliefs because I might accidentally be exposed to another worldview.” He paid attention. He observed their culture. He knew enough about their beliefs to talk about their altar “To the unknown god.” He even quoted their own poets.

Paul understood their world well enough to speak the Gospel into it.

That matters.

Because how are we supposed to be a light to the world if we refuse to understand the world we're trying to reach?

You don't have to agree with someone to understand them. Understanding isn't endorsement. Listening isn't compromise. Learning isn't abandoning your faith. Asking a question isn't rebellion. And being willing to say, “That's interesting. I haven't considered that before,” does not mean your Bible spontaneously combusts.

Actually, I think strong faith should make us more willing to investigate difficult questions, not less.

If I believe Scripture is true, why would I be terrified of examining something that challenges what I believe? Maybe I'll discover the challenge isn't nearly as impressive as somebody made it sound. Maybe I'll discover I've misunderstood a passage for years. Maybe I'll learn why another Christian reads it differently. Maybe I'll understand another religion well enough that when someone from that religion talks to me, I can actually have a meaningful conversation instead of arguing against something they don't even believe.

And maybe, occasionally, I'll discover that something I was absolutely certain the Bible said was actually something I had always been told the Bible said.

Those moments are uncomfortable.

They're also important.

Because following Jesus should involve humility. If I enter every conversation assuming I already know everything worth knowing, I'm not really listening anymore. I'm waiting for the other person to stop talking so I can explain why I'm right.

People notice that.

They also notice when Christians tear each other apart over secondary issues. Imagine being someone who doesn't believe in Jesus and watching Christians tell each other they're heretics because they disagree about the timing of the rapture. You're standing outside Christianity thinking, “So...these people both believe Jesus died and rose again, both believe the Bible is God's Word, both say Jesus is Lord, and apparently they're currently trying to spiritually body slam each other over whether Christians leave before or after the tribulation.”

That probably isn't the shining-city-on-a-hill moment we imagine it is.

Jesus said people would recognize His disciples by their love for one another.

Not by our ability to win Facebook arguments.

Not by how quickly we can produce twelve Bible verses proving somebody else wrong.

Not by whether we successfully destroy a stranger in the comments section and then walk away thinking, “Excellent. Surely they will want to know Jesus now.”

By our love.

That doesn't require becoming wishy-washy about truth. Jesus was certainly not wishy-washy. But He could speak truth while seeing the human being standing in front of Him. He ate with people the religious crowd avoided. He answered questions. He asked questions. He met people where they were and then pointed them toward something greater.

Maybe we could try a little more of that.

Learn about the world.

Learn about other religions. Learn about other Christian traditions. Learn some church history. Read the weird ancient texts people keep mentioning. Learn why someone interprets a passage differently than you do. Talk to people who don't believe what you believe and, occasionally, try listening without mentally composing your rebuttal while they're still talking.

Then go back to Scripture.

Study it.

Test what you've learned against it.

Keep what is true. Reject what isn't. Be willing to change your mind about the things Scripture doesn't clearly settle while refusing to move on the things it does.

Because God does not need us to protect Him from questions.

And the world doesn't need more Christians who can shout louder than everybody else.

It needs Christians who know what they believe, know why they believe it, are humble enough to keep learning, strong enough to hear a different perspective without panicking, and loving enough to remember that the person across from them matters more than winning the argument.

We are supposed to be a light to the world.

It helps if we're willing to actually look at the world we're trying to illuminate.”

09/04/2026

08/30/2026

I shared this true story about the “Angels of Bataan” in today’s sermon:

Seventy-seven women braved enemy fire to save thousands, endured three years as prisoners of war, and came home to a nation that all but erased their story.

They were known as the Angels of Bataan—sixty-six Army nurses and eleven Navy nurses who unexpectedly found themselves on the front lines when Japanese forces invaded the Philippines in December 1941.

Military regulations of the time prohibited women from serving in combat roles, but the sudden reality of war quickly shattered those rules.

When Manila fell, these courageous nurses were evacuated to the dense jungles of the Bataan Peninsula. Without proper buildings, walls, or basic shelter, they set up makeshift field hospitals directly beneath the trees. Japanese bombers flew overhead daily, and artillery shells screamed through the forest, yet the wounded kept coming.

The nurses worked exhausting twenty-hour shifts in stifling tropical heat, caring for thousands of soldiers who were suffering from severe combat wounds, malaria, and dysentery.

As medical supplies rapidly vanished, they improvised by boiling used bandages to sterilize them and carefully rationed morphine until there was none left.

One nurse later recalled the mindset that kept them going through the absolute worst of it, saying,

"We stopped thinking about comfort, about fear, about ourselves. There was always another soldier who needed us more than we needed sleep."

When Bataan eventually fell, the nurses relocated their medical operations to the fortified island of Corregidor.

Working deep underground in the damp, crowded Malinta Tunnel, they tended to suffering soldiers by flashlight while heavy bombs exploded above them.

On May 6, 1942, Corregidor surrendered.

All seventy-seven nurses were captured, becoming the largest group of American military women ever taken prisoner by an enemy force.

For nearly three long years, they survived brutal internment at Santo Tomas and Los Baños camps. They were forced to live on starvation rations of as little as seven hundred calories a day, while diseases like beriberi and dysentery swept through the population.

The nurses lost an average of thirty percent of their body weight, yet they never stopped serving.

Under the strong leadership of Captain Maude Davison and Lieutenant Josie Nesbit, they organized and maintained a working medical unit inside the POW camps.

They treated their fellow prisoners with almost no medicine or equipment, crafting crutches out of raw bamboo and trading their own precious food rations for clean water to fight off deadly dehydration.

They constantly reminded everyone around them that staying alive was its own form of resistance.

Lieutenant Juanita Redmond captured their incredible dedication when she wrote,

"We were so hungry we dreamed about food constantly. But we never dreamed about leaving our patients."

In February 1945, American forces liberated the camps. In a truly miraculous turn of events, all seventy-seven nurses survived and returned home alive.

However, their homecoming was far from what they deserved. While male combat soldiers received grand ticker-tape parades and front-page news coverage, the nurses received quiet commendations and were expected to quietly slide back into traditional domestic roles without complaint.

Post-traumatic stress was not recognized back then, especially for women, so they were simply expected to move on with life.

For decades, they remained minor footnotes in history books and rarely spoke about the nightmare they survived.

It was not until the 1980s and 1990s that historians finally began documenting the full scope of their service.

The last surviving Angel, Lourdes “Lulu” Arizala, passed away in 2015, closing a powerful chapter of history.

The story of these seventy-seven women reminds us that true strength does not come from weapons or force, but from an unbreakable commitment to lift others up when everything else is falling apart.

Their journey shows us that compassion is the ultimate form of courage, and by holding their memory close to our hearts today, we make sure their selfless light never fades.

>We Are Human Angels<
Authors
Awakening the Human Spirit

We are the authors of 'We Are Human Angels,' the book that has spread a new vision of the human experience and has been spontaneously translated into 14 languages by readers.

We hope our writing sparks something in you!

08/25/2026

While this is from a LCMS site, I thought the content equally applies to our church:

There is a temptation facing the Church in every generation, but perhaps especially in ours: to measure the success of Christ’s Church by the same standards the world uses to measure success. How many people are in the pews? How full is the parking lot? How large is the budget? How many programs are running? How many people are watching online? How quickly are we growing? These are not necessarily bad questions, but they become dangerous questions when their answers become the standard by which we determine whether the Church is successful.

And to be clear, there is nothing wrong with wanting the Church to grow. Do we want full churches? Absolutely. Do we want crowded parking lots? Of course. Do we want children being baptized, adults being catechized, families joining congregations, and sinners hearing the Gospel? Yes, yes, and yes! We ought to pray fervently for such things. We ought to invite our neighbors, teach our children, evangelize our communities, and rejoice whenever God brings another sinner into His Church. But numbers are not the measure of faithfulness, and a large congregation is not necessarily a faithful congregation any more than a small congregation is necessarily a dying one.

This is where Luther’s distinction between the theology of glory and the theology of the cross becomes enormously important. The theology of glory looks for God where the world expects to find Him—in strength, power, success, popularity, influence, and visible triumph. The theology of the cross finds God precisely where human reason would never think to look: in weakness, suffering, rejection, and ultimately in a crucified Man hanging between two criminals. By every worldly measurement, Good Friday looked like a catastrophic failure. The crowds had disappeared. The disciples had scattered. Peter had denied Him. Judas had betrayed Him. The religious establishment rejected Him. Rome crucified Him. There was no packed auditorium, impressive organization, measurable momentum, or full parking lot. There was simply Jesus Christ nailed to a cross. And there God was saving the world.

That ought to radically change the way Christians talk about “success.” A congregation of 1,500 people can be spiritually starving while a congregation of 35 people gathers around Christ’s Word and Sacraments and receives the treasures of heaven. A church can have an overflowing parking lot while preaching very little about sin, repentance, Christ crucified, Baptism, Absolution, or the Lord’s Supper. Conversely, a struggling little congregation can hear the pure Gospel preached, receive Christ’s true body and blood, baptize its children, teach the Catechism, sing the faith, absolve repentant sinners, and bury its dead in the certain hope of the resurrection. By the world’s standards it may appear unsuccessful, but by the theology of the cross something glorious is happening there: Christ is present among His people distributing the gifts He won at Calvary.

That is something we in the LCMS desperately need to remember. Yes, our Synod has experienced significant membership decline. Yes, many congregations are smaller than they once were. Yes, demographic realities can be sobering. We should take those realities seriously. We should evangelize. We should invite our neighbors. We should teach our children. We should plant churches where possible and strengthen struggling congregations. Faithfulness is never an excuse for laziness or indifference toward the lost. Christ has commanded His Church to make disciples of all nations, and we should pursue that mission vigorously and joyfully.

But declining numbers should never send us into a panic that causes us to sacrifice our Lutheran identity and confession simply to get more people through the doors. We need to stop acting as though we are responsible for saving Christ’s Church. Christ has already saved His Church. Jesus said, “I will build My church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Matthew 16:18). Notice the subject of that sentence: “I.” Christ builds His Church. Christ preserves His Church. Christ gathers His sheep. Christ gives His Word. Christ gives Baptism. Christ gives His body and blood. Christ forgives sins. Christ raises the dead. The Church belongs to Him.

That means we do not need gimmicks to rescue Christianity or the LCMS for that matter. We do not need to dilute doctrine to make Jesus more marketable. We do not need to hide our Lutheran identity because somebody might find it strange. We do not need to turn the Divine Service into entertainment because the congregation down the road has better attendance. What we need is faithfulness. “Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Romans 10:17). The Holy Spirit creates faith where and when it pleases God through the Gospel. Our task is not to manufacture results. Our task is to preach the Word, administer the Sacraments according to Christ’s institution, catechize the faithful, love our neighbors, confess Christ boldly, and leave the results to God.

So, when someone says, “The LCMS is hemorrhaging members!” we should certainly care. We should examine ourselves. We should repent wherever we have grown complacent. We should work diligently to reach those outside the Church. But we should not panic. The future of Christ’s Church does not rest upon our strategic plans, demographic projections, marketing campaigns, or ability to keep institutional machinery running. God had His Church long before the LCMS existed, and should the Lord tarry, He will have His Church long after every institution we know has disappeared. The Bride belongs to the Bridegroom, and no power on earth or in hell can take her from Him (John 10:28-29).

So yes, pray for growth. Invite people. Evangelize boldly. Fill the pews. Fill the parking lot. Baptize babies. Catechize adults. Welcome families. Preach to thousands if God gives the opportunity. But never purchase numbers with the currency of compromised doctrine. Better a little flock gathered around the pure Word of Christ than a stadium filled by withholding it. Jesus says, “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32). Christ will preserve His Church. Our calling is not to save her but to be faithful within her: preach Christ crucified and risen again, administer His gifts, trust His promises, and leave the numbers to God. Remember, God WILL HAVE HIS CHURCH!

08/20/2026

Peace Lutheran Church at Silvana is having their annual Guatemala Garage Sale fundraiser tomorrow 9am-5pm and Saturday 9am-12pm. It will be inside the fellowship hall. Come check it out and find some treasures while supporting their school build project in Guatemala!