This is where the pastor goes all geek on y'all.

I've been playing video games for a long time. It all started with Pong, of course, and my first love was the Commodore 64, which I still contend had the best, most entertaining collection of video games. (Anyone have one they're trying to get rid of?)

But I always thought that the Nintendo Entertainment System was where I grew up as a gamer. The first game I beat was Super Mario Bros. But my favorite to play was Metroid. Pictured above is Samus Aran, the heroine of Metroid. And wasn't that a surprise?! Who knew that a girl could be a video game action figure instead of the damsel in distress?

Anyway, someone finally decided to bring the best of the NES into one game. Click here to play Super Mario Bros. Crossover! It has to be the coolest thing ever happen to video games!

The Sweetest Sorrow

I thank my God upon every remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine making request for you all with joy, for your fellowship in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ; just as it is right for me to think this of you all, because I have you in my heart, inasmuch as both in my chains and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel, you all are partakers with me of grace. For God is my witness, how greatly I long for you all with the affection of Jesus Christ. -- Philippians 1:3-8 (NKJV)


The Apostle Paul, by the grace of God and the eloquence of the Holy Spirit, has put into words the joy I experienced today. The saints of Mt. Olive Lutheran Church in Metairie, Louisiana, welcomed me into the pulpit one last time this morning. I'm not a big fan of gushy personal outbursts from the pulpit, as I'm sure you could guess by now, so the sermon wasn't a farewell speech, instead focusing on the Gospel appointed for the day. Yet the Lord's sense of timing is divine: the Gospel reminded us that the children of God are heirs of a joy that will never fade away.

Between the services, the congregation welcomed Faith and me to a cake reception. Yet sweeter than the cake and richer than the gifts we received was the love which they shared with Faith and me in their kind regards for the times we spent together and their fond wishes and prayers for my family's move and our service in Illinois. After the sorrow of my experience in Ohio--though I know many members of the congregation in Zanesville loved me and continue to love me today--the warm welcome and the continuing affection of the people of Mt. Olive has been a balm to my soul.

It may be some time before I return to Mt. Olive. My wife's family living in Louisiana, we will no doubt have the opportunity to return from time to time. It will not be the same; nor would I wish it to be. These people took me in during a time of sorrow. Through the love they have shown me and the gifts of God they partook with me, they are sending me forth in joy, and I hope that every return to them will reflect that joy. Though it is very likely that I will eventually forget the names of these saints, I will always remember the love they shared with me.

Pastor Drew, brothers and sisters in Christ at Mt. Olive Lutheran Church: the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all. We will meet again: maybe here, certainly at the Lamb's High Feast, and unto eternity by the grace of God.

Sermon for 4/25/10--Jubilate: Fourth Sunday of Easter (LSB 1-year)

I will be preaching this Sunday at Mt. Olive Lutheran Church in Metairie, Louisiana. Barring some emergency or some crazy occurrence, this will be the last time I preach in Louisiana . . . for now, anyway. The people of Mt. Olive have been a wonderful blessing to me and to my family for the past three years and more. Thanks to Pastor Drew, I've had the opportunity to preach there more than any other congregation during my time between parish pastorates. Each time I have been welcomed with love. This is a congregation which hungers and thirsts for the Word of God, no matter how much of it they have already received. This will be a bittersweet experience for me, I'm sure.

Thanks to Faith's mother, my dear wife will be able to join me. If you're in the area, we'd love to have you join us. Worship is at 8 and 10:30 AM. Pastor Drew will be teaching Bible class at 9:15. Y'all come!

How Long, O Lord?
John 16:16-22

Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.


Historically, the Fourth Sunday of Easter has been known as Jubilate. This Latin word is the first word of our Introit, in which we sing, “Make a joyful shout to God!” It seems strange, then, that the Church should choose the verses of our Gospel reading—verses recording an event which takes place right before the arrest of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before His crucifixion—to be read and preached on one of the seven Sundays of Easter. There’s an awful lot of sorrow in this text, and it doesn’t seem quite right in what is supposed to be a season of great joy for the people of God.

In fact, it seemed as though the disciples were already in the midst of their sorrow. Jesus wasn’t even gone yet from them for that little while, and in their confusion regarding His words, it was as though Jesus had already left them. The thing is, Jesus wasn’t delivering the goods the way they expected. They expected an earthly King, an Anointed One who would restore the earthly Kingdom of Israel. This business of Jesus going away for a little while, of Jesus going to the Father—it made no sense in their vision of the Messiah.

Of course, it’s easy for us to look at this text through the lens of hindsight and know exactly what Jesus is saying. In fact, as we look at this text, it might be easy for us to suppose that the disciples are rather foolish and thick-headed. After all, Jesus had told them more than once that He would suffer and die and that He would rise from the grave. This would be the last time Jesus would share this message with them before His betrayal and arrest, trial, conviction and crucifixion. These words would begin to be fulfilled before that day had even ended. It’s obvious to us. But we have the luxury of hindsight and the understanding given to us through the Holy Spirit.

Then again, Jesus doesn’t always deliver the way we think He should, either. Jesus tells us, “You will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice; and you will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will be turned into joy.” Sorrow, and anguish, and the cross will define your life; but your cross will yield to the resurrection!

These are wonderful words. But let us be honest: they are not really the words we want to hear. What we want to hear is that the life lived in Christ is a life of ease. We want to hear that being a Christian means that we will always be treated fairly in this life, that others will love us because of who we are. We want to hear that our blessed Lord has not only taken on our sin and died our death, but has also taken away everything that annoys and frustrates and bothers us, every bad thing that can happen to us, every evil word or deed that might be said or done against us. This is why men like Joel Osteen are so popular: they deliver the message we want to hear.

But instead of telling us what we want to hear, our Lord tells us what is true and real. He says: “A little while, and you will not see Me; and, again a little while, and you will see Me, because I go to the Father.” The message is plain for us who live under the burden of the Law and who daily earn the wages of sin. We need Jesus every moment. It is only the presence of Christ in us that allows us to do good works, that gives us true joy, that opens the gates of heaven to us. But we separate ourselves from Him in our sinfulness, and we become mired in sorrow because there is no hope or help or comfort for us apart from Him. Apart from Christ, the sorrow seems endless because the sorrow is endless apart from Christ.

But this is where we see the great blessing of holy absolution. When we find ourselves deep in sorrow over our sinfulness, when it seems as though the despair cannot be conquered, when the world is rejoicing because you have fallen, when it seems that sin and death will have their way, it is then that the Lord says to you, “You now have sorrow; but I will see you again and your heart will rejoice, and your joy no one will take from you.” When you are in sorrow over your sin and crying out, “How long, O Lord?” with King David, Jesus answers you by saying, “A little while.” ‘I will bring your anguish to an end. I forgive you your sin, removing it as far from you as east is from west. My righteousness covers your sinfulness. And I will give you great joy that will never end.’

Even though we may be unable to see the end of our sorrow, our Lord sees it. The suffering in sorrow will end; and until then, He gives us the strength to bear it, nourishing our souls with His body and blood. “A little while,” He says to you. That is all the longer your cross will last. That is only how long it will be until your heartache passes. That is the length of Christian sorrow and pain—only a little while. It may seem like an eternity, as those three days between cross and resurrection surely did to the disciples, and the devil will want to consume your whole life, but it is really only a little while. It will feel as if it is always raining, but after the rain comes the sunshine.

And what happens after that little while? Then comes the long while, the unending Day of the Lord. Sorrow and despair lasts but a moment. And then comes the joy which knows no end and the peace which surpasses understanding and the blessing that far outweighs any blessing in this life, the time when the sufferings of this present life can in no way measure up to the glory that our Lord has fully stored up for you.

But first, the little while. Though for now you have sorrow, the Lord even now comes to you when He gives you His life-renewing flesh and pours into you His life-saving blood. Even now the Lord sees you again as He smiles on you with His forgiving Word, even as the angel promised the shepherds when he said, “Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people.” Even now the Lord creates in you a clean heart, and renews His righteous Spirit within you, and restores to you the joy of His salvation.

As St. Peter wrote: “In this you greatly rejoice, though now, for a little while, if need be, you are grieved by various trials.” But even in this little while of grief, your heart rejoices, for you have been plunged into a joy that no one can take from you. You hear a Word of blessing that no devil nor any other enemy of God can undo. And you feed on Jesus, whose life no one now can take from you.

Let the world have its rejoicing while you weep and lament; for that joy will only last a little while. In His time, the Lord will grant you joy that will never fade away. In the name of the Father and of the Son (+) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.


The peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always. Amen.

An Exile No More?

Since I received the Call to serve as pastor of St. Peter Lutheran Church in Campbell Hill, Illinois, the one question that I have received most frequently is this: "Are you going to change the name of your blog?"

Louisiana is not Patmos--and I am certainly not St. John. It is neither Assyria nor Babylon--though I imagine Pat Robertson and the "God Hates Fags" people might be inclined to disagree regarding the latter. It is not even Elba--and I don't like pointy hats, anyway. Yet for the past four years and more, Louisiana has been the place of my exile from parish ministry.

What is exile? How does one become exiled? The Free Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines the noun "exile" as "the state or a period of forced absence from one's country or home". In my case, rather selfishly, I gave the blog its name because of my departure from parish ministry. I've told the story before. I don't need to do so again.

Now my time outside of parish ministry is coming to an end. Do I change the name or not? Since I received the Call, that question has crossed my mind from time to time--usually when someone asks me, but sometimes on its own when I have a free moment in my head that isn't echoing the refrain, "I'm returning to parish ministry! I'm returning to parish ministry!" My first instinct is to keep it the way it is, and there's a number of reasons for it.

First, heaven is my home. I am in the world but not of it. Until the Lord calls me home, I am an alien and stranger, as Peter says in chapter 2 of his first epistle. Second, as a matter of practicality, this is how the blog started, and changing the name and how it appears in blogrolls is just a big pain in the behind. Besides, the subtitle of the blog reads, "A Confessional Lutheran blog begun from the place of my exile".

But third--and most important--in the Bible, usually God's children were sent into exile because of their sinfulness. Adam and Eve were exiled from the Garden because of their disobedience to the Word. Cain was exiled for the murder of his brother, Abel. Judah and Israel were exiled to Babylon and Assyria because they had fallen away from the Word of God and into apostasy. In my case, no matter what the motives of others might have been, I sinned in writing negatively about certain aspects of my congregation in my original blog. Whether or not it was the reason I was asked to resign, it was the reason I was given. And whether or not it was the reason I was asked to resign, my sinfulness in posting what I did gave me enough reason to acquiesce to the demand. Keeping this name has served and will continue to serve as a reminder that I must continue to love, thank God for, and speak well of the flock entrusted to my care, no matter the circumstances. God help me to do so.

What do you think? Keep it? Change it? If so, to what?

Hymn: Alleluia! Christ Is Risen

Alleluia! Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Last night, I was putting Michael to sleep, singing hymns like "At the Lamb's High Feast We Sing" and "Jesus Lives, The Victory's Won" and "Love Divine, All Love Excelling" as lullabies. As I was singing the last, a hymn idea popped into my head. It's not easy to put a child to bed when you keep repeating ideas under your breath so you don't forget them.

A blessed Easter to you and yours!

Alleluia! Christ Is Risen

1. Alleluia! Christ is risen!
Jesus, firstborn from the dead,
Burst the gates to hell’s dark prison.

Christ has triumphed as He said.
To the cross He bore sin's burden.
There He suffered grief and shame.
Rose again to earn our pardon--
Rose our freedom to proclaim.

2. Lo, His tomb now stands deserted.
Hark, the stone now rolled away.
Satan's power fails, diverted,
Hell's dark fury held at bay.
Now end's Satan's insurrection.
Hear the truth we claim by faith:
Through His mighty resurrection
Jesus bears the keys to death.

3. Sinful Adam, die with Jesus
In the great baptismal flood.
Washed of all sin's dread diseases,
Cleansed, we rise, in Jesus blood.
Where, O Hades, is your vict'ry?
Where, O Death, is now your sting?
Death, now toothless, falls before me.
Hell bows, mute, before my King.

4. Alleluia! Christ is risen,
And with Him the saints shall rise.
Death is nevermore our prison;
Now the gate to paradise.
Pow'r, dominion, glory, honor
To the Lamb who once was slain,
Who, with Spirit and the Father,
Now and evermore shall reign.


(c) Alan Kornacki, Jr.
87 87 D
Tune: HYFRYDOL (LSB 700)

Pastor-Elect

This past week, Faith and I drove up to Campbell Hill, Illinois. There is a healthy amount of discussion as to whether or not a pastor should visit a congregation which has extended a Call to him, but there isn't really a clear-cut answer. I never visited Zanesville before I accepted the Call to serve there, and though I do not blame that lack for the way things turned out there--after all, everyone puts their best foot forward with a planned visit--sometimes I wonder what might have happened if I had visited. (I sometimes allow myself the luxury to think about things I can't change.)

I had my response pretty much set by the time we decided to take our trip, and I didn't really expect anything we saw there to change my mind. The drive itself was lovely, though we were a little early to catch the fields in their vibrant greens. But even lovelier than the drive were the people we encountered. It started with the Buetow family. Pastor Mark Buetow, his wife Susan, their three daughters, and Aslan the cat warmly welcomed us into their home for the first two nights. Pastor Buetow and I have known each other for a long time. In fact, when Faith and I decided to move to Louisiana in 2005, I called Pastor Buetow, and he provided spiritual care for us. He's a good man, though Faith believes he consumes a little too much red food dye. He's also the vacancy pastor for St. Peter Lutheran Church, and he was able to give me extra information about the congregation. As for Faith, she and Susan are both homeschool mothers, and they had developed an online friendship that bloomed during our visit. Their daughters are lovely young ladies--taking after their mother, thankfully, in their temperament.

On Thursday we went to church at St. Peter. We started with the dinner beforehand, meeting and greeting those who had come to eat and to worship. We'd let them know we were coming, and we were greeted with love. The church itself is beautiful--I'll let the picture above speak louder than any words I could add. And the people? I've lived in rural Missouri and rural North Dakota, and there is a certain mentality to the rural being. There's a certain calmness, a generosity of spirit, that seems almost innate. That's not to say that city folk aren't generous, but it seems to be a way of life here. (I'm already speaking as if I'm there.)

On Friday, Faith and I had dinner with a group of leaders from the congregation. After the delicious meal, we did introductions, and then, after a brief discussion, I announced that I was officially accepting the Call to serve as Pastor of St. Peter Lutheran Church. This was the first time I'd ever been able to witness the reaction when I announced a decision like this, and the relief and the applause were a welcome and soothing balm. They handled well the news of Michael's autism. They'd started renovations on the house, and they sought our input on what we'd like to see done. It was as if we were already there--and though we had to come back after worship on Sunday, in a way it feels like we're already part of the life of the congregation. And I suppose we are. Thanks be to God for such faithful and loving people to serve with and to serve!

For those who are interested, President Herb Mueller of the Southern Illinois District will be installing me as St. Peter's pastor on May 16 at 7 PM. Pastor Buetow will be preaching. Lutheran Church--Missouri Synod pastors who attend are invited to participate. May 16 is the Seventh Sunday of Easter, so be prepared with your white stoles.

Thank you for your support and prayers over the pastor four years, and thank you for your continued prayers for myself, my family, and the St. Peter congregation.

Hymn: As Strode the Christ to Cross and Grave

For a number of years now, I've had it in mind to do a sermon series based on the eyewitness testimony given by those who witnessed Jesus as He made His way to the Place of the Skull. I'd thought about calling it, "Sermons from Christ's Enemies"; but then it occurred to me that not all of those whose testimony was given were speaking or acting from enmity. The woman who anointed His feet with oil, for example, did not act out of anger or fear. The thief on the cross went so far as to defend Christ from a fellow criminal's words. Not being in the parish for the past four years, and not having much say in what was chosen as a sermon series the two years before that, I've never written the sermon series.

But then I started to look at the same theme with the thought of writing a hymn. After a few abortive attempts, this is what I've come up with, set to the tune of "From Depths of Woe I Cry to Thee". And who knows? Maybe that will be my Lenten sermon theme next year.

To God alone be the glory.

As Strode the Christ to Cross and Grave

1. As strode the Christ to cross and grave,

The blind men stood before Him.

"Lord, Son of David," they did rave,

"Have mercy!" they implored Him.

Hail, Jesus, David's greater Son,

Who, in His love, heals everyone,

Delivering God's mercy.

2. "'Tis better that one man should die

Than die our holy nation."

When Caiaphas these words did cry,

He prophesied salvation.

Though speaking as Christ's enemy,

Unknowing, he spoke faithfully.

Christ died to save all people.

3. “Innocent blood have I betrayed,”

Said Judas to the plotters.

Our own destruction Jesus stayed

Through blood poured out with water.

That sinless blood makes our robes white

And saves us from death’s endless night.

That blood has bought our pardon.

4. Pilate before the priests proclaimed,

"I find no fault in Jesus."

All said, who should be greatly shamed,

"Naught but His death appease us."

Still, Pilate knew His innocense.

He gave up Christ at truth's expense.

Thus death became the judgment.

5. The crowd cried out, "Then be His blood

On us and on our children!"

God saw His Son's great crimson flood,

Heard those words, and fulfilled them.

That sacrifice atoned, and thus

The blood of Christ now cleanses us.

The stain of sin is ended.

6. The thief with Christ knew his own guilt,

And of it made confession.

Yet in the Lord his hope was built

Who would forgive transgression.

He prayed, "O Lord, remember me."

No matter how near death we be,

Christ shows His grace and mercy.

7. "Truly this man was God's own Son,"

The soldiers said in wonder,

As death's fierce power was undone,

The veil now torn asunder.

May we, with those who saw, believe

The saving work which Christ achieved

For us and our salvation.

(c) Alan Kornacki, Jr.
87 87 887
Tune: AUS TIEFER NOT (LSB 607)


And the sermon series layout:

Witnesses on the Road to Golgotha

Midweek Lenten Series

Midweek 1—John 11:45-53

Caiaphas: vv.1, 2, 7

Midweek 2—Matthew 27:1-10

            Judas: vv.1, 3, 7

Midweek 3—John 18:33-40

            Pilate: vv.1, 4, 7

Midweek 4—Matthew 27:15-26

            The Mob: vv. 1, 5, 7

Midweek 5—Luke 23: 33-43

            The Thief: vv. 1, 6, 7

Midweek 6/Good Friday—Matthew 27:46-54

            The Centurion: vv. 1, 7

 

CALLED and Ordained (and HYMN)

As I write this, it's been four years, five months and seven days since I've been a parish pastor. It's been an interesting period--as in the old Chinese curse: "May you live in interesting times." We moved to Louisiana from Ohio. We had the twins. We've lived in three different houses and two towns. I've weathered two hurricanes. I've been running a community center for the past three years. It's been a strange interlude.

Though I haven't been in the parish, the pastors and congregations down here in southern Louisiana (and parts beyond) have kept me fairly busy. I've preached for thirteen different congregations, averaging about one preaching opportunity every three weeks. I've been blessed to officiate at three baptisms (including those of the Wonder Twins). I've done three funerals. I've administered the rite of Confirmation at three congregations for seven young Christians.

I've also participated in the installation of three pastors. I've enjoyed doing so, but those events were especially trying for me, wondering if I'd ever again find myself being installed as a parish pastor. Those events led to long sessions of storming the gates of heaven, begging God to find a place for me.

After four years and five months, God has finally, resoundingly, in His own gracious timing, answered these prayers in the affirmative. The Holy Spirit has led the saints of St. Peter Lutheran Church in Campbell Hill, Illinois, to extend to me the divine Call to serve as their next pastor!

I don't know a lot of details as I write this--the paperwork is en route--but Faith and I are very excited about this opportunity. I am ready and raring to serve. If everything works out the way I think it will, my last day at the community center will be April 30.

Please keep the Kornacki family and the saints of St. Peter Lutheran Church in Campbell Hill, Illinois, in your prayers.

In honor of this occasion, I have paraphrased Psalm 43 and set it to a hymn tune. (By the way, yes, I do realize I tried rhyming "off" and "truth". *sigh*)

Vindicate Me, Lord My God

1. Vindicate me, Lord my God!
'Gainst the nations plead my cause.
Save me from the foul and flawed.
To my enemies give pause.
O my Lord, deliver me.
E'er my strong defender be.

2. Lord, why do You cast me off?
My oppressors cause me grief.
Lead me in Your light and truth.
In You let me find relief.
I will seek Your altar, Lord,
Always joyful in Your Word.

3. Why, my soul, are you cast down?
Why cannot my soul find peace?
Let my harp Your praises sound,
For in You I find release--
You, my hope, O God of grace;
You, my hope, I seek Your face.


(c) Alan Kornacki, Jr.
77 77 77
Tune: Gethsemane (LSB 436)

PARODY: Coffee Is My Friend

I don't know if you've ever seen the video for the song "Jesus Is My Friend" by Sonseed. It's a rather cheesy Christian ska song that has made the rounds on YouTube lately. If you want to understand the context of the parody (or if you just want to see a really cheesy praise song), click here. If you haven't seen it . . . well . . . just watch it. I'll leave it to you to form your own opinion.

Special thanks go to my friend Susan Buetow, whose Facebook status this morning inspired me. Even though I don't drink coffee myself, as a former Pepsi and Mountain Dew addict, I can certainly understand the need for that little extra something to get going.

And so, without any further ado, here is my tribute to "the other Lutheran sacrament".



Coffee Is My Friend

(Chorus) Coffee is a friend of mine
Coffee is my friend
Coffee is a friend of mine
I have a friend in coffee
Coffee is a friend of mine
Coffee is my friend
Coffee is a friend of mine

1. It helps me through my day when people get to me
I don't know how I'd live my life if I were caffeine-free
I've tried other drinks and nothing works as well
Starting days without it can be hell (Chorus)

2. It gives me extra pep for dealing with my kids
It helps me when I feel my life's about to hit the skids
The coffee may be bitter but with milk it's not so bad
And think of all the sugar you can add (Chorus)

3. Once I tried to quit--I tried to drop caffeine
But after just an hour I found myself becoming mean
Coffee is like garlic--it gives you nasty breath
Give me coffee, please, or give me death! (Chorus)

4. I drink it in the morning and just before I sleep
I drink both when it's fresh and when it's had some time to steep
I drink to calm my nerves--without I get the shakes
Just think: if not for coffee, there would be no coffee cake! *GASP* (Chorus)

The Great Deflate

This is a bit of a departure from my usual fare, but I hope you don't mind the presumption. Your prayers would be appreciated in this matter.

The danger in living in a house which you don't own is that sometimes you inherit things you'd rather not have. On the door of our bathroom we have a full-length mirror. In an of itself, this is not a bad thing. It's good to be able to tell when you're walking out of the bathroom if you have toilet paper on your shoe or a big piece of lint on your behind. But when you're overweight--or, to be more accurate, morbidly, disgustingly fat--it's not a nice thing to step out of the shower and see all 800 pounds of your body in all its morbid glory. It's like a train wreck: you want to look away, but you can't. I used to be overweight--somewhat pleasantly rounded with a beer belly--but still able to pull off surprising feats of speed and agility if the situation demanded it, usually with my youth group. These days I find myself breathing heavy when I pick up my son (who, admittedly, isn't tiny) and carry him twenty feet from the living room to the bedroom.

This is unacceptable. I look like a slug. I have little energy. I have been a lousy steward of this gift God has given me. If my body is a temple for the Holy Spirit, He may end up suing me as an absentee landlord. For the first time in my life I have a lot of self-confidence, but the condition of my body does not match the condition of my psyche. I don't care what other people think about my weight, but I do care what *I* think. It's time to do something about it.

An acquaintance of mine is losing a lot of weight following gastric bypass surgery. That's not the route for me. I want to earn my weight loss if at all possible. Another acquaintance has lost an incredible amount of weight by eating right and by exercising. That's the right way to do it when you're able, and that's how I want to do it.

I started doing the Power 90 workouts at the Rec a week ago. I had to stop about a third of the way through the workout to make space for taxpayers (the next day I moved the DVD player to the banquet room for some privacy), but I needed the break anyway for the sake of my belly, which felt like it was going to rip off the front of my body. I continued on when the taxpayers left. But I could feel the burn already after that first segment.

Here's the statistics.
My starting weight: 343 (How did I let this happen?!?)
My first weight goal: 290
My "final" weight goal: 250 (This number may drop lower if I can lose more weight safely, but this is a good number for now.)

Here's the ugly truth.












It's a week later. I still look like a slug. It's going to take a lot of work to change that. But the work has begun. Today I completed my sixth day of the 90-day routine. It's a two-day cycle that repeats: the first day is cardio and abs, and the second day is weights/resistance work. This was my third day of the resistance program, and it has started to get a little less difficult. I won't say that it's gotten easier, since it's not easy and probably won't ever be--the price of fitness is constant vigilance--but I'm growing accustomed to the hard work. Six workouts and a long walk on Saturday. Feel the burn? That's not someone shooting a blowtorch at me; it's my muscles doing work they haven't done since I graduated from college.

I've also been doing more sensible eating. Carrots and pretzels for snacks instead of half a bag of Cheetos. Very limited sweets. Low-fat yogurts. No fast food. No pop ("soda" for you weird people). Meals with low fat contents--though I don't count calories, I do check the fat content in what I eat. Today I made myself a low-fat crawfish chowder which got more delicious with every mouthful. (I hope my grandfather-in-law isn't spinning in his grave, God rest his soul, with his Yankee grandson-in-law making a seafood "soup".) I've been a lot better about portion size, too. I'm not letting myself be hungry, but I'm not eating until I feel like I'm going to explode. I'll probably struggle with that for a long time. (But NO MORE TURKEY BURGERS FOR ME. At least, not the brand they sell around here. Blech. No amount of seasoning, no condiments, no cheese could make that . . . that thing . . . taste good.)

A week ago I weighed in at 343 pounds. Today I weighed in at 337 pounds. Six pounds in one week! I can't tell you how excited that made me. I've got a long way to go, but the start is very encouraging. I'm not stupid enough to think that every week will be like this, and I know I'm not going to be perfect when it comes to keeping the diet. But I've committed myself to this, and I intend to see it through. I can't keep living the way I was--not for myself, not for my family.

God help me. And that's not just a figure of speech.

Hymn: Sustained By Faith Among the Rubble

I came to the greater New Orleans area a few months after Hurricane Katrina ravaged the area. The devastation was horrendous. Knowing how so many people in our church body stepped up to aid the people and communities of the gulf states in the aftermath of the storm, I've been very interested to see how the people of the LCMS would step up in the aftermath of the earthquake that annihilated Haiti. To say that I've been impressed would be an understatement. The blog posts from Pastor Matt Harrison and his staff from LCMS World Relief and Human Care have recorded their efforts and the efforts of others (like Pastor Ted Krey, my friend and a former classmate) in what continues to be a dangerous situation.

I'm not in a position to play a big role in Haiti's recovery. The people of Haiti and those who are working tirelessly on their behalf are in my prayers daily. That doesn't seem like much to me, but God gives us our vocations, and right now mine have me working where I am.

Like I said, I've been following the blog posts of Pastor Harrison and of Pastor Carlos Hernandez, Director, Districts and Congregations, LCMS World Relief and Human Care. One of the latter's recent posts caught my eye--specifically, the title. It was called Among the Rubble, Sustained by Faith. The fledgling hymn-writer in me saw that title and ran with it. This is the result.

(By the way, thank you, Pastors Harrison and Hernandez, Krey, and all those who are working in the heart of the devastation. May God sustain you as you bring both earthly blessings and the blessings of heaven to the people of Haiti.)

Sustained By Faith Among the Rubble

1. Sustained by faith among the rubble,
God's children face calamity.
Earthquake or storm—in any trouble,
Christ is our rock for ev’ry plea.
Even in times of great distress,
We know in all things God will bless.

2. God does not promise earthly pleasure.
Sin and its wages take their toll.
Yet He gives comfort rich in measure.
Baptismal waters soothe the soul.
Christ will forever faithful prove.
Trust in His grace, for God is love.

3. In His great mercy God has given;
In His great love He takes away.
When thunder rolls, when waves are driven,
When illness falls, when buildings sway,
Battered by Satan's demon band,
We rest in God's almighty hand.

4. God hears our every supplication.
Boldly approach the mercy seat.
In fear, in loss, in devastation,
His grace is sure, His love complete.
God answers prayers—so says His Word.
We pray, “Thy will be done, O Lord.”


© 2010, 2017 Alan Kornacki, Jr.
98 98 88
Tune: O DASS ICH TAUSEND ZUNGEN HATTE (DRETZEL) (LSB 590) or WER NUR DEN LIEBEN GOTT (LSB 719)
Occasion: Disasters (natural or man-made)/Job 1:13-21

Give me liturgy, or give me death!

My apologies to Patrick Henry for borrowing his thunder, but I couldn't resist. After doing a google.com search, I find that I'm not the first to make this statement (though in all fairness, I had never heard it before). But regardless of the originality of the statement, there is as much need for these words today as there was for Patrick Henry to speak the original words over two centuries ago.

Perhaps some might view this as hyperbole. Oh, that Kornacki character doesn't take things seriously. On the contrary, there are few things in this world that I consider with more gravity than the divine liturgy of the Mass. I have always loved the liturgy. Outside of baseball achievements, one of the things I remember most about my youth is the day I realized in the midst of the worship service that I knew by heart all the words of the liturgy, both for the congregation and the pastor. I was eight at the time, and the congregation had just made the move over to the "new" hymnal, Lutheran Worship. This was a major accomplishment for me. Instead of reading the words, I could recite them--pray them--and consider their meaning. Of course, at eight years of age, those considerations were hardly profound. Nevertheless, it was the start of a time of spiritual growth for me.

Having the liturgy in my spiritual toolbox was especially important a few years later, when I got into my car accident. I don't remember much about that evening. But in what to this point in my life was my darkest hour, when I was laying terrified on a gurney in an ambulance, on a day of which I remember precious little, I remember praying parts of the liturgy, including the Lord's Prayer. I remember singing "Abide With Me". These gifts, these treasures which so many in the Church disregard and dispose of with nary a thought, took me to the feet of my Savior in the midst of tribulation.

A year later, on vicarage, my supervisor took me to visit one of our shut-ins. This beautiful woman welcomed us with open arms, even though she didn't know who I was and couldn't remember who her pastor was. She remembered very little. But when Pastor began the liturgy in preparation for Communion, this child of God who remembered so little otherwise began to pray the liturgy with us, word-for-word.

It is in the liturgy in which we are given the Sacraments, where we receive the forgiveness of sins, eternal life, and salvation. Some might complain that the liturgy is boring because of all the repetition. But it is that very repetition that makes the liturgy so important for the Christian in his daily walk with Christ. When we walk out of the sanctuary, we walk out into the world, where Satan, "this world's prince", is looking for someone he can lead away from the rest of Christ's flock, someone to devour. In returning to the liturgy, we return to the waters of Holy Baptism, where

I've experienced the generic Protestant service. I will say this: there's a lot of excitement. Some have the dancing, some the arm waving, others the exciting new music, still others the incomprehensible rambling from the people "speaking in tongues"--which, by the way, are never interpreted for the congregation--and these things are very emotional. But there's not much substance there, and I'm hard pressed to figure out how I could rely on any of these things to help me to pray while I was laying dazed in an ambulance. After all, so much of what happens without liturgy is that we tell God what we do for Him, how much we love Him, how we lift His name high, how holy our desires for him are. And those moralistic sermons are informative, but when your life is in shambles and you feel like you can't make it right, how can it help to hear that you have to do even more?

I find great joy in the words of Scripture upon which the liturgy is based. I become very emotional during a number of our "dull" hymns and at points of our "boring" liturgy. We sing about "Easter triumph" which destroys sin and brings us "Easter joy". We sing that Jesus ". . . lives and grants me daily breath. He lives and I shall conquer death." What comfort, what joy those words are! We sing about Christ who is "the life of all the living". We sing about vocation, which is lives as Christians which are lived in response to what Jesus has done for us. We hear sermons which tell us that we are forgiven children of God, relieved of the burden of "doing more" because Christ has done all things necessary for our salvation. These are beautiful things, and I literally weep tears of joy for the wonderful blessings God delivers to us in the Divine Service and the words we have been given to speak and sing in response to what we receive.

After all, the Divine Service is, first and foremost, about what God does for us. It's not meant to focus on us and how we feel or what we do. Instead, the Divine Service points us to Christ and what He gives to us there: forgiveness, life, and salvation. The gifts we receive in the Divine Service are vital to our lives as Christians, and we take those things with a deadly seriousness, even as we experience great joy in what we receive.

Music, Politics, and Me

I have always been fascinated by music. When I was young, I wanted to be in a rock band (in those moments when I wasn't sure I would be starting for the New York Yankees, of course). I sang constantly. I tried taking up numerous instruments, though I've never succeeded with any of them. I took music theory in high school, which I loved and would like to take a refresher course one of these years. I took a history of church music course in college, and I enjoyed it thoroughly despite my lousy grade.

And I have always appreciated music. What the Lord didn't give me in musical talent, He gave me in spades in the realm of music appreciation. From a very early age I was exposed to various kinds of music. We listened to "classic" rock in the car when I was a child. We were treated to classical music in grade school. I started listening to country music when I was on vicarage in rural Missouri. We had a fine organist at my home church, and when I worked in the chapel in college I was treated to student organists (and their teachers!) who graciously allowed me to do my work while they practiced. I have over a thousand compact discs now, and I've got a lot of some things and a little bit of almost everything.

But these days, I haven't been listening to a lot of what's new. And I think I know why. When I was younger, I could listen to music for the sake of the music--in other words, I could listen to the melody and harmonies, the rhythm and percussion, and appreciate it apart from the words or the artist. A fine example of this is Ani Difranco. Her (ultra-liberal) politics, her (lack of) religion, her (somewhat ambiguous) sexuality--I could overlook these things because of her superior musicianship. And sometimes, mixed in with the ideological crap, there are nuggets of pure gold.

But as I've gotten older, it has become difficult to separate the music from the mess. Looking at the list of this year's Grammy nominees and winners, I see a bunch of names of artists and groups whose political leanings and political music I find, frankly, disgusting. One such nominee this year was Green Day, whose 2004 song "American Idiot" on the album of the same title denigrated conservative Americans by saying that we're part of "a redneck agenda", living in "the age of paranoia". Add to the list from this year's nominees Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, Madonna, Bono from U2, and Dave Matthews, people with political, religious and social ideologies radically different from my own. Now, most of those listed are older artists, but their influence continues, and their message is incendiary. I won't even read Rolling Stone magazine anymore, considering their distrust of anything conservative and their ridicule of Middle America.

Maybe I'm missing out. Despite my dislike of what has become so popular today--American Idol's over-produced big voices with too many frills--that's not all there is out there. Maybe I'm influenced too greatly by pop music's impact on the pap that is excruciatingly popular in so many churches today. Maybe I let the politics of the artists and the politics of their music carry too much weight. Maybe I should just shut up and listen to the music.

Then again, maybe I'm on to something. But if you'd like to recommend some music that won't make me want to throw my iPod against the wall, I'm all ears . . . so to speak.

Praying for Pastor

I received a phone call this afternoon from a brother in the Office of the Holy Ministry who I know from online. We've always found an amusing camaraderie in the simple fact that we share a name, and he has always been a source of encouragement in the midst of strife. He reminds me not to give up hope that the Lord will find a place for me to return to parish ministry. Today his message was simple: I'm praying for you.

We pastors pray for our congregations constantly. That's one of the primary duties of a congregation's pastor. Indeed, we pray for "the whole people of God in Christ Jesus and for all people according to their needs". But we also take some time to pray specifically for our brothers in the Office. Some might see this as selfish or self-serving. This is not the case. Well, we are sinners whose every act is tainted with sin, so I can't say these prayer are completely selfless, though we do strive for that. But we pray for our brothers because we understand the struggles our brothers face. As I write this, one brother is struggling with the possibility of resigning from the Ministry altogether. Another has received a Call from a congregation who wants him to serve as their pastor. A number of them are wrestling with depression. Some, like me, anxiously await Calls to return to parish ministry. The list goes on and on.

You do not need to be a pastor to pray for a pastor. If you are a layperson, I encourage you to pray for your pastor constantly, whether or not you see eye to eye with him. I promise you, he prays for you, even (and especially) when there is difficulty between you. Show him the love which Christ bears for you. He needs it, and it is a blessing for you to share it with him, even as it is a blessing for him to share it with you. As the member of a congregation which I do not serve as a parish pastor, I pray for my own pastor as well. He may be a Chicago Cubs fan, but I still pray for him.

For my brothers in the Office of the Holy Ministry: I'm praying for you.

And for my brother with whom I share a great and well-spelled name: Thank you for your prayers. I'm praying for you, too.

Sermon for 1/24/10-Third Sunday After Epiphany (LSB-C)

I will be preaching this sermon on Sunday at Redeemer Lutheran Church in Mandeville, Louisiana. Pastor Aaron Stinnett asked me to bring the Word to his congregation while he is on vacation. I've preached at Redeemer a number of times before, when they were in the midst of their vacancy before extending the Call to Pastor Stinnett. I received warm welcome from the people of Redeemer, and I look forward to joining them again, the two-hour drive notwithstanding. Bible Class is at 9:00 AM, and worship is at 10:30 AM. Feel free to join us!

Fulfilled
Luke 4:16-30

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.


If God doesn’t give you exactly what you want, is He still blessing you? The people of Haiti may be having some trouble seeing the blessing in the aftermath of the earthquake and its aftershocks, just as many in Louisiana and our neighboring states struggled with the goodness of God after hurricanes Katrina, Rita, Gustav and Ike in the past few years. But it doesn’t take a disaster to make us doubt the goodness and power of God. On Christmas morning a child receives gifts of all sizes and shapes. But if the one particularly desired present does not appear, none of the rest of the gifts are good enough, either.

In our text, the people of Nazareth received a great blessing. As always, the faithful were gathered in the synagogue on the Sabbath. That particular Sabbath day, Jesus, the local carpenter boy turned rabbi, joined them in the synagogue. Jesus had become well-known for His teaching and for the mighty wonders He had performed. Any rabbi was welcome to take up and read from the prophets and give commentary on what they read. That day, Jesus took up the scroll and read from the sixty-first chapter of Isaiah:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me,
Because He has anointed Me
To preach the gospel to the poor;
He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the captives
And recovery of sight to the blind,
To set at liberty those who are oppressed;
To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.

After reading this, He sat down and began to teach them, saying, “Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

What a wonderful blessing! The people would have known that this text from Isaiah spoke of the promised Messiah. Hearing these words and then hearing Jesus speak of their fulfillment, they would know that Jesus was telling them that He was the Messiah of which they spoke. This should have been a cause for celebration in the synagogue.

Instead, the people were bewildered. While they knew the Scriptures, they also knew this Jesus. They had seen Him grow from boyhood, had watched Him work wood with Joseph and on His own. They found it hard to believe that this Man could be the Messiah, the Deliverer who had been promised to them from the very day when Adam and Eve partook of the forbidden fruit, plunging the world into the darkness of sin and death. They had heard the stories; now they wanted the proof. They wanted Jesus to stand and deliver, just as He had in Capernaum. They wanted to see the show. They wanted all the blessings of the Messiah to be delivered on cue. And when He would not be their circus clown, they drove Him out of the city and attempted to kill Him.

We’re no different. We know who God is. In the Large Catechism, Father Luther tells us, “That upon which you set your heart and put your trust is your god.” We know that God provides “all that we need to support this body and life”. So we call upon Him. And we’re supposed to call upon Him in every need. But we expect Him to give in to our every whim, and we expect Him to give us what we want at the exact moment in which we want it.

We have a problem. We were a people created for the sake of receiving blessings from God. Adam and Eve lived in Eden, where every desire was fulfilled without even having to ask. But the difference is, before they sinned, every desire they had was a holy desire. Then they sinned. God continued to bless them, but now the blessings were delivered in the midst of toil and hardship. We know that God wants to bless us; and though we in our sinfulness have earned the wages of sin, still we expect to receive blessings without toil or hardship. We believe we deserve them, that we’re entitled to them. How easy it is to trust the Word of God when the blessings flow like water! That’s why preachers like Joel Osteen are so popular: they deliver to their hearers the promise of earthly prosperity, and that is so much more desirable than the reality of eternal salvation.

When God fails to deliver as we desire, He ceases to be our gracious Lord; instead He becomes a cruel villain upon whom we cannot rely when the chips are down. He’s not the kind of Messiah we want, any more than Jesus was the kind of Messiah the people of Nazareth desired that day. We may not be able to drive Jesus from the city, but we can certainly drive Him out of our lives.

But Jesus did not come to be the kind of Messiah we desire. He came to be the kind of Messiah we so desperately need. The Word which Jesus read from Isaiah tells us what Jesus is, and what He came to do. God tells us through Isaiah that Jesus came to proclaim the Gospel to the poor. He came to heal the brokenhearted. He came to proclaim liberty to those in bondage. He came to restore sight to the blind.

And that is precisely what He does. Jesus came to restore sight to the blind—and He does so. Not only did He heal those who were physically blind, but He opened the eyes of the spiritually blind—Nicodemus, His own disciples, even the soldier who stood at the foot of the cross and confessed, “Truly, this was the Son of God.” He does the same for us, giving us the holy medicine of His body and blood, which brings healing to our souls and restores to us the ability to see Him as the Messiah He is. He has come to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captive and the oppressed. In the waters of Baptism He creates in us new hearts, where He now dwells within us. In the words of Holy Absolution, we are freed from our bondage to sin and death.

God’s goodness and the eternal salvation He won for us do not depend on whether or not God fulfills our every whim. Jesus has already delivered to us “all that we need to support this body and life”. He has also already delivered to us all that we need for the life of the world to come. Faith comes by hearing. And today, this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing. In the name of the Father and of the Son (†) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.


The peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always. Amen.

Writing By Hand

I've always been an office supply addict. When I was a kid, it was three-ring binders, lined paper, spiral-bound notebooks and Papermate® brand pens. Today it's computers, Zebra® brand pens, fountain pens and "modern Coptic"- or thread-bound notebooks--notebooks such as the ones made famous by Moleskine®. I used to keep a fairly serious personal blog online. When I found myself facing some heat because of that blog, I closed it down, started another one that would be used mainly for theological purposes (which you are reading now!), and took pen and pocket-sized thread-bound notebooks in hand to record personal observations and to make notes for writing.

I just finished filling my fourth such notebook, one I started in January of 2008. When I fill a notebook, I flip through the pages and see what I've recorded on its pages. When I started this one, I was compiling questions which I was hoping my father would answer, an attempt to record my family's story. I eventually used those questions and others to record my own story. I jotted notes for two ideas for novels, ones I may or may not get around to writing. (Look out for NaNoWriMo 2010!)

I took the notebook with me when we evacuated for Hurricane Gustav, and contained in its pages are measurements for cutting wood for the windows of the house. I ended up leaving it at the house of the pastor who hosted me. He was able to return it to me about six months later.

Also contained in this notebook are a bunch of parodies I've written. Some were based on secular songs and themes. For example, Crosby Stills & Nash's "Immigration Man" became "Teleprompter Man", while Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl" became "I Knit and Purl". Others were based on hymns and songs. "Stand Up, Stand Up for Jesus" became "Sit Down, Sit Down for Jesus", while "Ride On! Ride On In Majesty" became "Right On! Right On, Depravity" after the ELCA's anti-Scriptural decisions regarding homosexuality.

But what pleases me most about what is contained in this notebook is that it records my attempts to write hymns to the glory of God and the edification of the Church. These are humble efforts--some much humbler than others, to be sure--but they reflect a growth in my prayer life, a prayer life that had been (and still continues to be) a struggle, especially since the events of four years ago.

Some of what I write on those pages appears on this blog. After all, I use it for recording ideas and as a springboard for my writing. My review of Pastor Todd Peperkorn's book I Trust When Dark My Road appears nearly word-for-word. But much of what appears on those pages is for my eyes only. I will never be as trusting or as naive as I was, and there are some things y'all don't need to know about me. I don't write about my job or the specifics of my pastoral duties much at all anymore. I learned my Eighth Commandment lesson the hard way.

Even so, writing by hand has always been somewhat therapeutic for me, since I've always felt that I think better with a pen in hand and converse better using a pen rather than my mouth. The notebook has borne the brunt of my therapy. The pages have become compressed; the cover, once pristine, has wrinkled with age and abuse. Putting this notebook on the shelf will be like ending a conversation with an old friend. But I've got another notebook, and a new conversation, a new friendship, begins.

And if I miss the old one too much, I can always pull it off the shelf and relive the conversation once again.

REVIEW: "Christ Have Mercy" by Matthew C. Harrison

I have finally finished reading the book Christ Have Mercy: How to Put Your Faith in Action by Matthew C. Harrison. Pastor Harrison is the Executive Director of LCMS World Relief and Human Care. This is not exactly a new book, having been published in 2008, but if you haven't come across it in your personal reading, I would encourage you to get yourself a copy and give it serious attention. I started reading it about a month ago. I assure you, the length of time it took me to read the book should not be considered an indication of the quality of the content of the book. Indeed, in the periods when I was able to devote my attention to the book, I found it difficult to put down.

Pastor Harrison addresses a topic with which I have always struggled: showing compassion to people in need, especially in terms of the community of faith. How does the Christian congregation--indeed, even a denomination--show mercy to the world around it? He follows the examples of the Tables of the Law: first he speaks of God's great work of mercy for us and, in turn, our response toward Him; then he speaks of how we reflect Christ's mercy for us to our neighbor. He states, "A relationship with God the Father without a relationship with others in fellowship is impossible. A denial of love to a brother or sister is a denial of fellowship in the Lord" (143).

He also takes up the important lesson of the place of the confession of faith in the work of mercy. It is a sad truth that many who do works of mercy in the world claim to do so in the name of Christ; yet they have abandoned a true and faithful confession of who Christ is. "Deeds, not creeds," is their rallying cry. We must not fall prey to this temptation. Pastor Harrison writes, "What is necessary for the Church's work of mercy is a clear and solid conviction of who Christ is and what the Gospel is. Absent such conviction (faith), the work of mercy ceases to be the work of the Body of Christ (however valuable and laudable such social work may be in the realm of civil righteousness)" (159). These examples are just a mere slice of what he delivers to his readers.

If all he had done was show examples from his experiences as a parish pastor in the inner city or his time as Executive Director of LCMS World Relief and Human Care, perhaps I would have been impressed, but I doubt I would have been challenged. But Pastor Harrison sprinkles examples from his experience into the midst of a flood of attestation from Scripture and the Lutheran Confessions. Would that all the leaders of the Church showed themselves to be so versed in Scripture and the Book of Concord!

This book challenged me from start to finish. It challenged my prayer life--so much so that I was inspired to write a hymn based on the Litany, as Pastor Harrison draws upon the Litany frequently in his book. It challenged my personal stewardship. It challenged my view of vocation. Finally, it challenged my view of the place of the Christian Church in the world.

Buy this book. It will not disappoint you.

A Polish Feast

I make no bones about the fact of my Polish heritage. Though living in Louisiana has been a welcome break from Polack jokes--they prefer Boudreaux and Thibodaux jokes down here, much as the Scandinavians up in the Dakotas and Minnesota prefer the Sven and Ole jokes--I delight in the jokes, because they remind me that we tend to look at the world from a different perspective than the rest of the world. Some of the greatest thinkers in history have been Polish. Ever heard of Copernicus? That is the Latinized form of his name, Mikolaj Kopernik. Madame Curie? Her maiden name was Maria Skłodowska. (And people think Kornacki is a difficult name!) You may also have heard of the composer and pianist Fryderyk Franciszek Szopen, who is more commonly known by the French version of his name, Chopin. Have you read Heart of Darkness? Thank Józef Teodor Konrad Korzeniowski, also known as Joseph Conrad.

But enough name-dropping. This entry is actually about food. When the Kornacki family took our September vacation in my hometown of North Tonawanda--a suburb of Buffalo for the uninitiated--my father spent a day showing me how to make pierogi. Pierogi are comparable to dumplings or ravioli. They can be filled with pretty much anything, including cheese, bacon, sausage, and fruit. The favorite version in the Kornacki house, however, is the potato and sauerkraut pieróg. My wife doesn't do sauerkraut, so Dad also taught me the potato and onion variety. Cheese is also a popular choice.

Some American families save these delights for holidays, but they're good at any time. And since we're in the middle of a cold snap even here in the deep south, this would be a great time to fatten up the family! Make no mistake: this is not a diet food. But even if it kills you, I guarantee that you will die happy!

Though he'd never really written down a recipe, we put one together as we made the pierogi so I could have a reference to go by when I made mine. We never recorded how big a batch this would make, but we know for a fact that you can comfortably feed a family of six with plenty left over. Since this blog is all about the sharing of God's wonderful gifts with His people, I wanted to share this mundane (and yet so sublime!) blessing with you. Smacznego! (Good appetite!)

PIEROGI
(potato and sauerkraut, potato and onion, cheese)

Part Ia: Filling: Potato and Sauerkraut (and Potato and Onion)

Ingredients
2 large cans of sauerkraut
5 lbs. potatoes
2 large Spanish onions
3 sticks of butter
½ cup milk
Salt
Pepper



Instructions
1. Squeeze juice out of sauerkraut by hand (skip 1-5 if no sauerkraut is desired)
2. Boil sauerkraut in water
3. Drain
4. Rinse with cold water
5. Squeeze water out thoroughly
-----------------------
6. Skin the taters
7. Cut taters into similar size pieces
8. Boil in salty water until fork tender
9. Drain
10. Mash (but don’t whip) with ½ cup milk and 1 stick of butter
-----------------------
11. Skin the onions
12. Cut onions into onion sticks approx. 1-1.5 inches long (chop fine if not using kraut)
13. Sautee onions with 2 sticks of butter (1 stick if not using kraut)
-----------------------
14. Mix onions with drained kraut (skip if not using kraut)
15. Heat to reduce water (skip if not using kraut)
16. Mix onions and kraut into potatoes
17. Add salt and pepper to taste
18. COOL OVERNIGHT


Part Ib: Filling: Cheese

Ingredients:
1.5 lb farmer's cheese (sort of a dry cottage/ricotta style cheese)
4 large onions
2 sticks butter
2 eggs


Instructions
1. Skin onions
2. Chop onions (not too fine)
3. Sautee onions in butter
4. Whisk egg
5. Combine ingredients, stir until mixed
6. COOL OVERNIGHT


Part II: Dough

Ingredients
8 cups flour (plus flour for table)
2 tablespoons salt
4 eggs
½ cup oil
2 cups cold water

Instructions
1. CLEAN THE TABLE
2. Beat 4 eggs
3. 8 cups flour in large bowl
4. Add 2 tablespoons salt, 4 beaten eggs, ½ cup oil, 2 cups cold water
5. Mix with roasting fork until doughy
-----------------------
6. Lightly to moderately flour the table
7. Shake loose flour lightly onto dough
8. Mix with hands
9. Let rest for ½ hour


Part III: Assembly

Ingredients
Dough
Cooled filling
Butter (you’ll need a lot!)

Instructions
1. CLEAN THE TABLE
2. Put water on to boil, but not a hard boil (continue on as you wait for boil)
3. Flour the table
4. Cut large handful of dough from dough mass
5. Roll dough handful into tube snake about the diameter of large marshmallow
6. Cut pieces into size of two large marshmallows end to end
7. Flour one side of each piece
8. Using thumbs, fold over pieces so the floured outsides cover the exposed dough
9. Using rolling pin (marble preferred to avoid sticking), roll pieces flat (but not paper-flat) to the size of a baseball or softball
10. Use spoon to scoop out spoonful of filling (smaller than a golf ball, but not much smaller)
11. Put filling in middle of flattened dough piece
12. Pinch shut firmly, folding over edges—use a fork if necessary, but leave no openings
13. Put finished pierogi into gently boiling water (you can put about a dozen in a large pot)
14. Stir every few minutes with the back of a large wooden spoon, making sure water continues to gently boil
15. Melt 2 or more sticks of butter in saucepan
16. Remove pierogi from water when they float, place on plate
17. Pour melted butter over pierogi
18. Salt to taste
19. Eat until you’re about to explode


Part IV: Leftovers

Instructions
1. Allow boiled leftovers to cool
2. Place leftovers in large plastic bag so they can lay mostly flat when bag is on its side
3. Pour in some melted butter
4. Let cool
5. Place bag(s) in freezer (or fridge for next-day consumption)
-----------------------
6. Remove bag from freezer
7. Put a little butter in frying pan
8. Put leftovers in frying pan
9. Heat until golden brown on both sides
10. Serve with more melted butter

Incidentally, if you would like to assemble them for later boiling and consumption, they can be frozen. After the assembly portion, instead of boiling them, place them in a air-tight container lined with waxed paper, preferably not touching each other. To stack them on top of each other, just place a sheet of waxed paper between each layer. Dad has been known to use cling wrap to keep the individual pierogi from touching, which makes it less likely that they will freeze together and break open while cooking.