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  • Writer: David Beckmann
    David Beckmann
  • Jan 29
  • 2 min read
Video Screenshot
Video Screenshot

Bruce Springsteen released “Streets Of Minneapolis” yesterday.  It has gone viral. 


When people are harmed and silenced, standing in public and speaking out becomes part of our moral calling. Pushing back against the abuses and false claims of the MAGA movement is part of that responsibility. This song captures that truth.


We've needed this song, and here it is—from Bruce Springsteen.




Lyrics:

Through the winter’s ice and cold

Down Nicollet Avenue

A city aflame fought fire and ice

‘Neath an occupier’s boots

King Trump’s private army from the DHS

Guns belted to their coats

Came to Minneapolis to enforce the law

Or so their story goes

Against smoke and rubber bullets

By the dawn’s early light

Citizens stood for justice

Their voices ringing through the night

And there were bloody footprints

Where mercy should have stood

And two dead left to die on snow-filled streets

Alex Pretti and Renee Good


Oh our Minneapolis, I hear your voice

Singing through the bloody mist

We’ll take our stand for this land

And the stranger in our midst

Here in our home they killed and roamed

In the winter of ’26

We’ll remember the names of those who died

On the streets of Minneapolis


Trump’s federal thugs beat up on

His face and his chest

Then we heard the gunshots

And Alex Pretti lay in the snow, dead

Their claim was self defense, sir

Just don’t believe your eyes

It’s our blood and bones

And these whistles and phones

Against Miller and Noem’s dirty lies


Oh our Minneapolis, I hear your voice

Crying through the bloody mist

We’ll remember the names of those who died

On the streets of Minneapolis


Now they say they’re here to uphold the law

But they trample on our rights

If your skin is black or brown my friend

You can be questioned or deported on sight


In chants of ICE out now

Our city’s heart and soul persists

Through broken glass and bloody tears

On the streets of Minneapolis


Oh our Minneapolis, I hear your voice

Singing through the bloody mist

Here in our home they killed and roamed

In the winter of ’26

We’ll take our stand for this land

And the stranger in our midst

We’ll remember the names of those who died

On the streets of Minneapolis

We’ll remember the names of those who died

On the streets of Minneapolis



 
  • Writer: David Beckmann
    David Beckmann
  • Jan 29
  • 3 min read
Artwork: R. Stephenson
Artwork: R. Stephenson


This week I received an email about stewardship that I want to share with you.

It reminds us that stewardship is not only about money. It is also about how we use our time, how we treat other people, and whether we are willing to speak up for our neighbors.


The email (below) is from the Rev. Tim Brown of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. I am sharing it in full because I think it is especially relevant right now.


“Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21).


When I talk to leaders and congregations about stewardship, one of the first things I try to impart is that my work isn’t just about financial stewardship.


Yes, Jesus mentions economics 288 times in the Gospels (roughly one out of every 10 verses), so that absolutely means finances and economics have an impact on our spiritual health.


But Jesus talked about other things too—and did other things too.


Jesus called the disciples toward stewardship in other ways, and we so often forget that (or simply ignore it) because, well, if I’m perfectly honest with you, seeing the totality of our life through a stewardship lens can be pretty inconvenient.


Jesus invited the disciples to steward their time and their anxiety (Luke 12:27), which calls me to reflect on how I use my time and monitor my worry. I can’t just do anything that I want to do and honestly try to keep my mind from being cluttered with anxiety.


Jesus invited the disciples to steward their egos (Luke 18:9-14) and to keep guard against looking down on others and elevating themselves. This means that, though I can be proud of what I do, I can never have my pride place me over others. Comparison and competition are the thieves of not only joy but of honor, and they betray a self-reliance that is just not possible in this imperfect world.


Jesus invited the disciples to steward their relationships, asking them to think deeply about not only who their neighbor is but to also think honestly about how they treat their neighbors and advocate for them (Luke 10:25-37). Remember, the Samaritan doesn’t just help the wounded victim but also advocates for them with the innkeeper to continue their care and heal them — and even offers compensation for that healing should it become a burden.


This, Beloved, is stewardship of voice and action. Or, in other words, advocacy.


And this kind of stewardship is at the forefront in these days as we hear our neighbors being demonized by powerful people and see images of them being harassed at gas stations, dragged in freezing temperatures from their homes and violently harmed.


And not just in Minnesota — this violence is happening all over.


In our Rite of Confession and Forgiveness we lament both the “things we have done, and the things we have left undone .…”


Advocacy is being vocal about not only our support for our neighbor but also acting on behalf of them. And while stewarding our voice is sometimes refraining from saying the thing we want to say, it is also the act of saying the thing that needs to be said, by God — and then acting on it.


Or, to quote St. Fred of the Rogers (who riffed off of Jesus), it’s being a “good neighbor.”


How is your community standing up for your neighbors in these days?


2026 has started with headline-grabbing alarm. Alarms are meant to call us to attention, Beloved.


How will we steward our voices? How can we resist the temptation to just hit snooze on the news?


One of the most frustrating things about Jesus is that while grace is always abundant, the call to steward our lives in light of Christ’s life is also always there. I’m not perfect at it — none of us are.


And yet, the call, the alarm, keeps sounding — every morning.


How will we steward our advocacy, our voice, our response? How are we being a neighbor?


Pax,


The Rev. Tim Brown

Director of Congregational Stewardship Support

Evangelical Lutheran Church in America



 

I recently listened to an important conversation between Minerva Delgado and Eric Mitchell, president of the Alliance to End Hunger, on the Alliance’s January podcast. It is well worth your time.


Eric offers a clear-eyed look at where we are right now. Globally, famine and near-famine conditions are becoming business as usual. Here in the United States, the “big, beautiful bill” made changes in health benefits and SNAP that will increase poverty and hunger over time.


Eric notes how alarming last fall’s administrative disruptions to SNAP were for families and communities who depend on these benefits. The Alliance plans to track the impact of the “big, beautiful bill” in 2026 and 2027, helping voters remember why SNAP benefits are declining. 


I’m grateful for the Alliance’s steady leadership and for Eric’s honest assessment of the moment we are in. 


You can listen to the full podcast below. And if you missed it, I was featured on the December episode, reflecting on the tumultuous year of 2025.





 

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