R is for Retreat,
which is not the direction for our feet, except when we gather together in order to better grow together--as in fact we did do at a university center last November. Think of it, maybe, as an occasion for re-souling. One of the assignments for our retreat was that everyone had to write a "slice-of-life" about their life and work. Because of her day job, Cindy could not be with us; but she did share with us in writing her "slice of life," which is anything but retreating. In her slice, Cindy recounts not only her tragedies, but the source of her strength in the midst of them: "my faith in the Lord to take care of me and my family whatever happens." There is no looking down our noses at Cindy for that--she has her Th.D. with that kind of hopefulness in the midst of ruins. Cindy can teach us all a thing or two about the Messenger who comes to bring peace and good news and salvation to one and to all. She is not beaten, nor will she be. For the Messenger has proclaimed, "Your God reigns!" and she has taken that promise to heart and lives in the assur-ance that God's holy arm will secure the victory.

It is that promise that brings the song of joy to our hearts and to our souls. Do you suppose that here is the real reason Cindy goes about her business each day with the cheerfulness and playfulness that we have become accustomed to see in her? Why else does she sing for joy, but that she trusts that da feet of the Messenger have stomped down her defeat and the defeat of the one she most dearly loves, her own little Jacob. Jacob means, literally, "to seize by the heel." And Whose heel does Jacob seize (together with the rest of him)? Christ, the cheer of Christmas, who snatches not only Jacob but all of us from tragedy, death, and defeat, bringing us forth instead as his own redeemed--fully paid for, and full of life! In her slice, Cindy expresses how thankful she is to "the good Lord" for the people who work with her here and

Michael Hoy

"Termination dust" is Alaskans' name for the first snowfall of the season. Termination dust warns goldminers to close down operations pronto and get back to civilization, or else.... It had just fallen when Marie and I landed in Anchorage to do Crossings at the October conference of Missouri Synod (sic!) pastors in Alaska.

These polar bear Lutherans are a breed apart. Like most Alaskans they are hooked on the great outdoors--of which their state overfloweth. Pulling salmon from the waters and getting their moose is part of pastoral routine. One pastor we met is into dogsledding. He's a "musher" in local parlance, and even sought to get us ready for the Iditarod, as the accompanying photo shows.

Alaska's state motto is "the last frontier." Filter frontierism through a Gospel prism and you get mission-conscious Christians. Missions was simply a given at our three-day Crossings seminar up above the snowline. Not just these foot soldiers on the frontlines, but also their Northwest District president, Warren Schumacher, shares the mentality. They've adopted the Scudieri translation for that line in the Nicene Creed: "I believe in one, holy, catholic, and missionary church."

But it's not just the clerical types. The laity at Sunday services and Bible classes sent similar signals. For many it is a given: Our mission field is Alaska. If you're baptized, you're a missionary.

Sure, there are some doubters, but for more than a decade they've gone forward with that perspective,