2006
The Pensive Pastor December 31
I am in the midst of that strange period right between Christmas and New Years. Like the tiny pause between inhaling and exhaling, like the moment of darkness mid-blink, like the soundlessness between telephone rings, there is a sense of unreality about this moment. Something wonderful just happened, but now it’s all over except for the bills and clean up and the need to start dieting again. At the same time, something fun is about place, but there are last minute things to be handled, a little work to do, a few more sleeps to go.
Caught in the moment between events, with barely a moment to breathe between them, with too little time to start something new and too much time to waste on trivial things, the week seems to come to a staggering standstill. Here we are mid-lurch, delicately balanced between finishing one thing and looking forward to starting anew. Here I am striving but not arriving, thinking, but not deciding, praying, yet not getting through to myself, let alone God.
In between breaths, just as we stop exhaling but haven’t started inhaling yet, life does not stop. When the phone pauses in between rings, it is not temporarily disconnected from the world. During the post Christmas pre New Year’s lull, there is still lots to do. And at every point along the way, at every peak and valley and pause in between, God is there.
Like the gravitational force that holds us firmly to the earth, like the air that surrounds and fills, like the heart that beats in regular anonymity, God under-girds our every moment, whether we are lost in a moment of prayer with Him, or completely lost in faithless abandonment. And it is during the in-between moments that we have the best chance of catching a glimpse of our creator.
Think about the busyness of Christmas. Buying, decorating, visiting, singing, we hail our Saviour’s birth, hardly notice the Saviour Himself. Then, with the rush of New Years and the frenzied partying or in the sad loneliness that is the reality for many, there is no time for God or for thanking Him for all that’s happened and what’s yet to come. So, in the midst of this Holy Season of nes beginnings, we’re too busy moping or celebrating to pay Him any mind.
But in the silent in-between-ness, there is a moment for God to be heard and noticed, a fleeting opportunity to catch a flash of His robe or the holiness that surrounds him. Only when nothing is happening in the world around us can we lay hold of the everything that is God. Only when we have nothing to say is there space for Him to speak. Only when we stop looking for something specific can we notice that God is everywhere around us.
God waits patiently for that moment. He will be there the moment we arrive. He is the fullness that fills our empty moments, the spirit that breathes between breaths, the presence that accompanies us from the moment of conception to the eternity of the hereafter. Why do we keep Him waiting? Why do we look for him only when there’s nothing else to do? Why do we make him a part of our pauses rather include him in our every activity? I’m not why, but I am sure that the moment we make a move, God will be ready. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor December 24
It was a nice, different evening for the Giurin family. Together we went to Windsor and celebrated Christmas at a small church dedicated to serving the local university population. The worship service was centered around a guided but informal sharing of gifts. The evening started off will, and went smoothly except for a couple of hiccups. The first came when one singer confessed that someone had already sung a his song. No problem, he simply picked another from what appeared a very thick book of possibilities.
The second hiccup was evident when only one person appeared in front of the congregation that was expecting a duet. This time things were much more serious. The husband and wife that made up the duet had received some very bad news from dear friends of theirs, news too awful to be ignored. As a result, they decided that one of them would go to the family, while the other would worship with us. It was a hard choice, but that way they could share their news, ask us to pray for their friends, and still share a blessing with us.
Although very different, both of those last minute changes had a notable impact on me. I was impressed at the great number of songs known by the first person I mentioned. He had such skill and comfort with the material that a quick alteration was no problem whatsoever. The other couple, even in the face of tragedy, was able to adapt to the new situation and deal with it in a way that turned out to be a greater blessing for everyone concerned.
Not everyone can change gears so quickly. Lesser performers would have been lost having to change songs at the last minute. And folks with less faith might not have seen a way to minister when bad news slapped them full in the face. So, like I said, I was impressed by the way those people dealt with their situation, quickly and effectively meeting an unforeseen hurdle.
We are children of a God that a long history of adapting to changing situations. While His plan was, is and remains constant, we humans constantly challenge God in new and curious ways. We have a long history of not listening or following His lead. We distort His message. We follow roads of our own devising. We get into more trouble than we can imagine.
Throughout all this God meets us where we need to be, not by changing His fundamental nature, but by adapting His way of reaching us. He sends us prophets, dreams, leaders visionaries, people to encourage us and events to chastise us. And along with those ever-adapting efforts, we find new and ways of avoiding God or getting into new and improved forms of mischief.
Thankfully, we can adapt to God so that we do what’s best for Him, which is also best for them. It can be a major life change or a little adjustment. It can be trying something new; or getting the old thing working right. Sometimes it’s just being quiet and letting God speak, and sometimes it means learning to speak up. At times we adapt quickly, sometimes over a long time. However and whenever we adapt to God, you can be sure of two things: first, is that God will help us get there, and second, that how God reveals His love might change, it’s infinite magnitude never will. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor December 17
It is a sign of the times that the Giurin household now receives emailed Christmas letters as happily and normally as it does traditionally mailed Christmas cards. (It’s also a sign of the times that my computer accepts the word “emailed” as a normal part of the vocabulary, but that’s another story…) That’s not to say that we were horrified with our first electronically delivered seasonal greeting; it’s just that now the novelty factor has completely disappeared, and we get straight to the enjoyment of catching up on friends and family both near and far.
This electronic delivery of Christmas cheer is but a mere tip of the news delivery iceberg. Everything, and I do mean everything, comes into our computer mailbox. In fact, there’s so much questionable stuff that the software specialists had to develop a way of filtering out the junk from the good stuff. Fortunately, traditional mail delivery has strict laws governing what can be mailed. So, while a lot of flyers are junky, they aren’t pornographic. E-mail, on the other hand, readily includes both the sacred and the profane, the polite and the pornographic, the mundane and the unmentionable.
I guess that too is a sign of the times. Although material of questionable desirability rarely sneaks through Canada Post’s capable filtering system, there’s no denying that such stuff is out there, and folks are publishing it. Email and other modern electronic delivery systems like text-messaging and blogs just don’t have the same safeguards as other more publicly available systems do. Of course, that’s not to say that such material is new. Junk mail has been around since the first time folks mailed out sales pitches or offers to win big money. It’s just that now there are more ways of delivering those messages and offers than ever before.
This is nothing new to God. God’s message delivery system has been under constant revision and adaptation. Where once he spoke directly to the first folks ever to live, their banishment from their creator’s presence caused God to rethink how things were done. Since those garden days, our Creator has spoken through visions, burning bushes, wooden staffs, disjointed hands, babies leaping in wombs and a young man rising from the grave. Yet while there are new ways of getting the word across, the Word itself never changes. What God spoke to Adam and Eve, He offers us in a myriad of new forms.
What were those first conversations like? Unlike us, the garden dwellers had few problems, so the chats were probably pretty calm. That’s not the case with us. Sometimes God gets quite upset, and lets us know it. But even when He’s upset, the message stays the same: “I love you, I want you close to me. Here’s what you do to make it so.” That’s why he freed the Israelites from Egypt. That’s why he freed humanity from the bondage of sin. We might get the message with an emailed Christmas letter from friends. We can hear it over a shopping mall sound system. We might even hear it from the pulpit Sunday morning. No matter how it comes, God keeps saying the same thing: “I love you, I want you close to me. Here’s what you do to make it so.” At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor December 10
I am finally getting around to making some decisions. The process is not complete, there are still miles to go, but at least I’ve started thinking about what to get assorted folks for Christmas. I know, time is getting short, and it’s one thing to think about buying stuff and another thing entirely to actually do it, but I’m doing what really amounts to the hard part. Thinking of just the right thing is not nearly so hard as finally hitting the stores and buying it. Mind you, sometimes the reality of what is available on store shelves doesn’t match the concept in one’s mind, but usually “nearly there” is good enough.
I am glad to be able to buy gifts for friends, family and co-workers. I like the idea of purchasing just the right thing to give to those people who are close to me, those folks for whom I would like to show my gratitude, appreciation and love. Yes, it might sound strange to put it in these terms, but it is a reality we deal with at Christmas. We buy presents. We don’t make them; we don’t dream them up out of the blue either; we don’t get them from Santa Claus, except for those that go to our kids. Buying gifts at Christmas is as natural as celebrating the birth of the child that gives the season its name.
There is, however, one great caveat emptor, a tremendous warning to the purchaser, a huge buyer beware in all of this. The warning is this: the gift is not the item we give; the true gift is the love and care that goes into its selection. The true gift is the desire to do something nice for someone we care about. The true gift is the love that drives us to give presents at Christmas. The actual thing wrapped up under the tree is merely a symbol, a token, a physical representation of emotions, thoughts and prayers that are not so easily set beneath a coniferous plant.
That’s why I feel it’s alright to buy presents. I am not trying to buy love; I’m simply showing it through something that tickles one’s fancy or funny bone. I’m also not trying to show them how much I love them by the size of the gift. It’s the giving that matters, offering a little reminder of how much I care that can sit on a shelf forever, or on a snack tray for a few moments. So yes, it’s okay to buy presents, but there is one more warning. The present ain’t all there is. Simply giving a token of my love and care isn’t all there is to the thing wrapped under the tree. The gift is in the loving that goes beyond the giving, the constant care and attention to the people close to me.
God gave us a great physical present in Jesus. He gave us His own presence in flesh, a real and touchable expression of His infinite love. But the gift wasn’t just one (1) human being. The true gift was the love that He wanted restored; God’s desire to bring us back close to Him; God’s will that we should love Him and others as He loves us. Nothing we buy for others can match that God’s gift. Yet when we our intentions line up with God’s, we get near to matching what God did for us. Like I said before, its not the giving but the loving that counts. So, when our gifts include a whole bunch of Christ-like love, it’s okay to buy prezzies in a store in this joyous season of giving. Of course, it’s also okay to share God’s love without prezzies under the tree, but we can talk about that another time. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor December 3
I have a few of diverse hobbies, ways to keep me entertained and challenged, ways that allow me to get out some of the stress and sometimes frustration of serving God and a small congregation in south-western Ontario. Yet while these hobbies are quite different from each other, and completely different from what I do for a living, each of these aspects of my life shares something in common, even if it accomplishes it in different ways.
That special something comes under the category of standards. Wood-working tools, electronics, computers and ministry all have certain standards that should be maintained in order to ensure everything goes well. So, in addition to the shop stuff that cuts, shapes and fastens, I own various devices to keep everything straight and true. When I spent more time with electronics, I had special instruments to ensure everything worked correctly. Computers use any number of programs to help them work as effectively as possible. Even ministers have folks that help them maintain the expectations of their God, denomination, and their congregations have for them.
Such standards are not an imposition or a burden. If tools aren’t straight, workmanship suffers. If electronic or computer components don’t meet their minimum requirements, equipment or programs will be unreliable. If I’m not up to par in my ministry, I will let down my congregation and my God. In fact, when it comes to some things, like a high-power table saw, falling short of minimum standards is dangerous. Imagine the damage a large chunk of wood can do if it’s thrown at the operator by a poorly aligned saw-blade. It doesn’t make sense not to have clearly defined levels of performance.
Of course, while having standards is important, it’s even more important to know that those standards are consistent. When I measure things in my shop, I use a quality tape measure. Anything less would result in poor, inaccurate workmanship. So not only do I need standards for my tools; I also need to know that those standards are exactly what they claim to be.
God sets standards for humanity, just as we humans set standards for the things we do or use. Yet unlike human standards, God’s expectations have been, are and always will be, consistent and true. There are no variations over time, no slight alterations to meet current conditions, no rethinking of the rules from one moment to the next. We humans, however, do play with God’s standards. We fiddle with them so they will meet our needs rather than God’s. We do it because we think it’s the right thing to do. We do it because we can’t meet God’s expectations. We do it because we don’t know any better.
But that doesn’t make too much sense, because God will still measure us by His standards. He will look to us for how we loved, how we served, how we obeyed, how we forgave and how we repented. And he sets the standard not simply with written commands, but through His living Son, Jesus. Through Him we realize that God’s expectations aren’t pie in the sky. They aren’t unreasonable. They may be challenging, but they aren’t unachievable. After all, we aren’t called to be Jesus. We’re just invited to follow His example. So, if you can love, if you can serve, if you can obey, if you can forgive, if you can repent, you’re already there. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor November 26
Ah yes, the holiday season. Tis’ the season to be jolly, goes the old song. Good Christian folk rejoice, suggests another. Better not pout, is the message for the young (and young at heart) Great songs all, each conveying a festive spirit, each inspiring us to sing, wassail, deck, rejoice and generally have a good time. And it’s not just in churches or homes, it’s in the shopping malls, too! Imagine that, the Good News proclaimed in song in these great secular houses that worship the almighty spender rather than the almighty creator!
The Pensive Pastor November 19
Ah yes, the holiday season. Tis’ the season to be jolly, goes the old song. Good Christian folk rejoice, suggests another. Better not pout, is the message for the young (and young at heart) Great songs all, each conveying a festive spirit, each inspiring us to sing, wassail, deck, rejoice and generally have a good time. And it’s not just in churches or homes, it’s in the shopping malls, too! Imagine that, the Good News proclaimed in song in these great secular houses that worship the almighty spender rather than the almighty creator!
It’s wonderful that Christianity has made such inroads in the heart of societal consumerism, right down in the bowels of the very greediness and selfishness that God-fearing folks seek to undermine. We’ve done it, we’ve struck a blow to the beast of spending for happiness, lashed out against the belief that more stuff means better life, taken a stand for the real meaning of Christmas.
Or have we? Does the presence of Christmas music mean that we’re making progress in setting the world straight, or has the message been railroaded to serve the very gods it professes to resist? Are people really hearing the Good News, or is it just the appropriate background music for the spending frenzy the comes at this time of year? In other words, are we contributing to the fallacy rather than conveying the faith?
My hands, I’m afraid, are not entirely clean. I’ve hung around shopping malls enough so that Christmas music, even in a nice, holy setting, makes me think, at least a little, of cheesy store decorations and what my children would like this year. Sure, there’s a tingling feeling in my heart when I when I hear “Hark, the herald angel sing!” but every once in a while it’s accompanied by my wallet tingling in anticipation of doing some serious shopping.
Maybe you’re immune to this reaction. Maybe you can keep things perfectly straight, keep those sacred tunes solely in the “God” file and strictly out of the “secular” pile. I wish I had your strength. I wish I could resist the temptation to spend as part of my Christmas festivities. I wish I could focus solely on celebrating the birth of our Saviour and His return one day without thinking about what Santa Claus is going to put under the tree for me and my family.
But I can’t, and neither can hordes of equally faithful folk. We are caught up in the whirlwind of what Christmas has become, not because we want to, but because we are human. It is the irony of being human that when we celebrate His birth, God’s salvation act, we need saving. We rejoice that we are His with the very same breath that marks our need for him. We welcome the Christ child while pushing Him out of the way to reach the bargain bin.
So I am ever more grateful for the Christmas music, even in the malls, even if it’s badly played. This year, I hope that it not only reminds me that there are only a few days of shopping left. This year I’m going to try and remember that those songs point to the only one who can forgive me even when I’ve forgotten him. We might not have made strong inroads into the malls, but at least Jesus has established a lasting presence in our hearts, which is a pretty good start. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor, November 12
For some folks, if I mention Gilligan’s Island, Mission Impossible or Bonanza, they can immediately sing the theme song. A slightly younger generation would likely know the opening music for programs like MASH, Miami Vice and the Johnny Carson Show. This generation probably could sing the tune for Friends, the Simpsons and any of the CSI versions currently on the air.
That’s because we seem to be internally wired to sing songs, to hear tunes and remember, even to have our emotions tweaked depending on the tone and pace of music. Every movie producer knows that a good soundtrack is vital. Not only does a good musical theme make a film stand out, it also helps the movie-maker set the mood for each scene. More than that, the music also tells us about the character, whether they’re good or bad, if the hero is about to undergo major trauma, or if the villain will finally meet their fate.
The power of music hasn’t escaped advertisers, either. They can build excitement over their product or tear their competitors apart with the choice of the right theme. In fact, some ads rely heavily on the music and the images, they need only a minimum number of words to convey their message. And like TV shows and movies, there’s no doubt that most of us can remember quite a few theme songs from our favourite commercials, even if we’re too embarrassed to admit we actually enjoy them.
As I ponder these various forms of musical expression, I notice that there’s been a shift in how things are presented to us. TV shows, movies and commercials are becoming more and more connected in terms of themes within themes. That is, each individual program feature or product might have unique music, but the way things are presented often come out sounding roughly the same. For instance, we know that something is “cool” when we hear lots of guitars and drums pounding out a rock beat. On the other hand, we often know that something’s not so cool when we hear classical music.
So where is the church in all of this? What would the Christian theme be? Would it set us up as cool and happening or quaint and out of date? Would it be a memorable tune that is quickly and easily remembered or something utterly forgettable? Ok, maybe we don’t need music to make us hip and trendy, but we certainly need to think of how we are heard and perceived if we are to have a lasting place in our society. After all, if what we do doesn’t get noticed it won’t attract folks, and it certainly won’t be remembered.
My point isn’t that we don’t need a cool theme song. We don’t have to play lots of guitar rock to make our message seem hip. We do, however, have to be aware of how we project ourselves, since we don’t have the accessibility TV or movies offer. All we have is our buildings, our faith and ourselves. These are the tools we have to get our message across. They are the things that sing out who and what we are. They are the ways that folks will know who we are and what we’re about. Personally, I think what God has to offer is pretty cool. And if we speak that message loudly and clearly, folks will know who and what we are all about, even without the benefit of a great theme song. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor, November 5
There have been times when my ability to overcome certain key-operated entry access security devices has come in rather handy. In other words, I’ve had to break into a few cars and places for different reasons (usually involving memory lapses) and for different people. It might not be the most seemly thing to admit, but it’s been useful to me, my friends, and the odd stranger. You know the situation. You’re in a hurry which makes you disorganized. You head off out of the house with the keys in your other pants, and the door automatically locks behind you. Or you’ve managed to get the keys, but as you leave the car, the keys stay in the ignition, and again, the door locks automatically behind you, leaving the keys safe from harm, and use. /that’s where somebody with, shall we say particular, skills.
Part of my skill was obtained having locked myself out of the house once or twice. But the most useful ability was learned one cold winter when the flaky locks in my Chevy Cavalier froze shut. It was suggested that I smother the mechanism with grease to keep it from happening again. So, I took the door apart, and once there, I familiarized with the systems mechanism, and figured out how it might be manipulated without a key. Which was a good thing. That inside information meant they never kept me out again. In fact, twice I helped stranded motorists who owned similar GM automobiles.
Why is this a good thing for a minister to admit? Well, sometimes it seems that folks are trying to break into faith. Some people feel there is a trick, an insider’s approach to knowing, loving and serving God. Like safecrackers trying to get at a wonderful treasure, they examine the box to see how to break in. Yet reality is much easier. God hasn’t locked himself away and given the keys only to a select few. His door is open to anyone, and it closes only when we need to be alone out of our own pain or desperation.
Still, folks ask me to talk to God for them, afraid they won’t use the right words or that God only hears certain people, they try to sneak in. I explain that I can only pray for them, but the answers come to them personally. Or people want the Bible laid out for them, as if I am the gate-keeper to understanding. I remind them that God’s words are a like food. It does them no good for me to eat it and tell them it’s good. They have to devour it themselves.
There are no shortcuts, no back doors, no secret passages to faith. It is a simple direct route that doesn’t require us to study the inner workings in order to break in. No special tools, skills or magic words are needed. God, through creation, Jesus Christ, the Bible, and earthly angels breaks into our lives on a regular basis. It is we who put up the locks and barriers of fear and sin that God must tear down.
Thankfully, God knows our inner workings, understands our fears, tolerates our weakness. And thankfully, his love is the key that opens our hearts, that lets Him work into our lives, and that lets us, in turn, work our way into God’s heart. Or more accurately, that lets us understand that we don’t have to break in: we’re already there. We just have to unlock our own hearts to realize it. At least that’s the way I see it.
Shalom in the Heart
Way back in the 60’s, the world started looking at things a whole different way. For the first time in a long time, Peace became something worth fighting for (a position that raises all kinds of questions itself…) Now, with winter around the corner along with the season of “Peace and Good-will towards all,” those 60’s sentiments come back to mind. But where does peace come from? What does it mean? Is it even possible? Today, we explore those questions as talk about “Shalom in the Heart.”
The Minister’s Musings October 29
You hear a lot about stress relief. It’s on everybody’s mind these days, what with pressures from work, family and the uncertainty that’s part of our modern troubled world. From this point of view, stress relief means things like sports, spas, meditation, medication, or naps. It’s all a matter of burning off extra energy, easing tense emotions or simply getting away from things that cause discomfort. But for a guy who worked as a technician and dabbles with things mechanical and electrical, stress relief has totally different connotations.
From an electrical perspective, stress relief means ensuring that wires don’t snap when pulled, bent or twisted. From a mechanical perspective, it means that parts don’t break when moved, rotated or squeezed. In both cases, it means finding ways of spreading or diverting the energy away from parts so that they can do their job without having to deal with forces beyond their ability to hold together.
Wires are of particular interest to me, because they usually don’t break along their length. They usually come apart where they are connected, especially if you have soft wires going through a hard metal cabinet. You see, as they pass through the hole, wires are subject to a lot of stress from their tight confines. Think of the power cord powering your TV. While most of the wire can bend freely when under stress, the part that goes through from the outside world to the inside electronics, rubs against the hard confines of the case or cabinet that houses the picture tube. So that entry point, even though its securely fastened to the case, is actually the weakest part of the wire. That’s the part that requires stress relief of some kind. It needs a soft cushion between it and the cabinet. Or maybe an extra thick case around the wire. Or in most TVs, they make is so that the wire disconnects before you break it.
One way or another, its that actual point of connection that is usually the place where a wire will fail. That’s where all the stress is concentrated. That’s where the pressure is the greatest. When you go beyond the limits, the joint fails, and there is much crying and lamenting over the loss of the appliance and the cost of the repair. However, you’ll notice that its very rare that the cabinet itself breaks. That’s because the cabinet is much stronger than the wire; it can easily take the stress of being pulled on, whereas the wire cannot. That’s why you rarely have to fix the TVs end of the connection
When it comes to us and God, our end of the connection is the weak part. It’s all too easy for us to break away from our Creator and wander off on our own. But from God’s end, its as easy for us to reconnect to Him as it was for us to get away. With a hand that is constantly outstretched towards us; with fingers reaching as far as they can; with every fibre of His indescribable being poised as close to us as He can without actually touching us; God is ready and waiting for us to reach across that final tiny gap. Yet he waits without coercing us, without arbitrarily bridging the breach, constantly hopeful that we will freely choose Him rather than all the paltry things that separate us from our true source of fulfilment. God has made His move; it’s up to us to reach out and seal the deal. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings October 22
I have to admit that I like shopping. Not the buying part, but the planning. A catalogue is as a good a read as a light novel. A stroll through the mall can be as relaxing as a hike in the park. Then, there’s the on-line catalogue, an entity that does more than let you look; they let you custom build a computer without spending money. Why, they’re almost too much fun to be legal. There’s real satisfaction in assembling the best combination of parts possible, having fun without a salesman, and realizing that the project is outrageously expensive yet hasn’t cost you a dime. Yes, I do enjoy shopping, especially when it’s the no pressure, don’t need anything but have a few minutes to look kind of thing.
One of the reasons I enjoy shopping is that I’m well aware of the fact that it’s not a problem for me. I don’t buy on impulse, don’t buy to cure depression, and never buy beyond my means. I do it knowing that it’s a guilty pleasure, safe that I’m very conscious that I’m quite happy with what I have and not always looking to something new and better to improve my life. Hopefully, if my enjoyment of perusing catalogues and store windows became anything other than an idle pastime, somebody would help bring me back to reality.
This is what happened to one woman who made a career out of shopping. Daphne Gordon, a writer for the Toronto Star, had a weekly feature devoted to best or most interesting shopping in and around the city. Recently, however, she saw the emptiness of her pursuit.. In her final column she wrote: “during a recent Yoga retreat I asked myself what I hope for in life. The answer was pretty clear. Neither pretty purses, nor chic gadgets appeared on the list. I don’t want to have more stuff in my life; I want more fun, more space, more time and more love and based on feedback from readers, I’m not alone”
I don’t think Ms. Gordon is Christian. That’s OK, since her experience reveals that what Jesus has to say is something that interests more than just His followers. Although she may not believe in Him as we do, He has the same take on shopping and materialism she does. He can also help her find what she’s looking for: more love, since He came to us in love; more time, since we are taught to be wise stewards of our talents, treasures and time; more space, because God helps us pare down what doesn’t matter in life; more fun (yes, MORE FUN) because the more fulfilled we are, the more fun we have.
So I have to ask myself: why don’t more folks turn to Christ to find what they need? Why don’t folks like Ms. Gordon realize that He can not only fulfill their hopes, but also teach them to dream bigger and better in addition to helping them reach those loftier goals. Or maybe a more pointed question should be asked. Why are Christians so loathe to spread the Good News? Its clear there is a great need. It’s also clear that Jesus could fill the needs of folks like Ms. Gordon. All folks like Ms. Gordon need is an introduction to Jesus from people who already know Him, folks just like us. Let’s help them meet that need. And as we’re making the offer, remember that folks love a bargain, and what better bargain is there than getting a new life completely free of charge? I know I couldn’t resist when it was offered to me, and I’m sure that plenty more folks are just dying to get such a good deal. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings October 15
The realization struck me out of the blue the other day. Like a flash of lightning, it suddenly became apparent just how complicated the world has been made. Not become. The world in which we live has not somehow developed into a more complex place because of natural forces or logical growth. It is we people who have made it so. We are the ones who have given ourselves so many choices we don’t know what to do. We are the ones who have schedules so intertwined and convoluted we hardly have any time left for unscheduled disorganized fun. We are the ones who devised TV remotes that resemble the controls in a Boeing 747.
Ah, the TV remote. It has more buttons than a seamstress’ spares jar. It has more options than a banks dial in phone menu. It’s more confusing than the book of Revelation. Once, it just changed channels and adjusted the volume. You didn’t key channel number, you got to your choice one station at a time. Now we have mute buttons, VCR and DVD controls, clocks to set timers to program. And, thankfully, we also have improved headache medicines.
Mind you, TVs weren’t as sophisticated, either. They were just for watching TV. They didn’t control VCRs, DVDs, Computers and microwave ovens. And you couldn’t adjust the picture the way you can with modern sets. There were one or two adjustments, made right on the set itself, and that was it. You couldn’t select colour temperature, you couldn’t pick between widescreen, letterboxed, normal, HDTV, progressive scanning or what have. All you could do was adjust the horizontal and vertical hold, and maybe the brightness and contrast. Nor could you program channels, set viewing schedules, or lock out the dirty shows. All you did was watch TV, or not, depending on your mood.
Am I lamenting these changes? Am I complaining about complexity. Am I suggesting it was better the old way. No, no and no. None of the above. I am, however, asking for patience and tolerance, because a lot of folks find this complexity overwhelming. Sure, if you’ve grown up with the changes, if you’ve seen things progress in new directions and went along for the ride, it’s been a relatively easy transition. Or, if this is the world you’ve entered more recently, it’s just the way things are. My two children have no problems with life because it’s all they know. For them, computers and complex TV remotes are as common and easily used as light switches are to the preceding generation.
Yet for all the changes, things remain the same. TVs are for watching, no matter what the remotes can do, and life is for living and enjoying, hopefully without having to schedule happiness. And underlying all our changes is an unchangeable God whose love is pure, simple and constant. Throughout all our transformations, we can trust God’s sure and steady presence. In return, God asks for our love, pure and simple, and as steady as we can make it. It doesn’t have to be perfect or take the same form all the time, it just has to be there. When that’s true, when we love God as steadfastly as He loves us, there’s no change we can’t handle, no transformation that can’t be made easier, alterations that are beyond us. No matter what happens, Gods’ constant love will see us through. At least that’s the way I see it.
From Minister’s Musings to Pensive Pastor October 8
You might not be able to judge a book by its cover, but you can certainly tell a lot by what it calls itself. You are pretty much guaranteed that there will be moments of great bloodshed and moments of soothing tranquility from a book called “War and Peace.” You are certain to visit at least two distinct centers of mass habitation from a volume with the title “A tale of two cities.” And folks like me are greatly reassured by books with titles like “The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Creating a Web Page.” Quite frankly, I think that the last book I mentioned wouldn’t have sold a single copy based on its cover art. I’m sure that it was sold to the publishers based on its very friendly title.
Sharp-eyed, long time readers (and sharp-eyed not-so-long time ones, too!) will have noticed a change in the title of this weekly tome. Yes, I’ve broken tradition and done something new, going from “The Minister’s Musings” to “The Pensive Pastor.” Shocking? Outrageous! Totally unnecessary!!! Please, say it ain’t so! Ah well, the truth is, yes, that’s the new name, at least for now. Why, you may rightfully ask? Well, it’s pretty straightforward. It all has to do with appearances, titles, and what I’m asking folks to understand about me.
Being a minister is a respectable vocation, no doubt. It means caring for people, serving God and other helpful things. But the title also carries some baggage with it, baggage that isn’t always helpful. That baggage is a sense of weight, a ponderous feeling that doesn’t really reflect who I am or what I try to do as God’s servant. That’s why, over the past few years, I’ve become known as Pastor John. To be called Pastor is, to me, something a lot lighter than to “be” a minister. It carries the full meaning of “minister” without some of the burden. So, I thought that if I’m known as Pastor to the folks I serve, and that I might as well use that title here, too. After all, if being “a minister” sounds heavy and self-important, then so does the title “The Minister’s Musings”
In the long run, while a title helps, it’s not what matters. It’s not the whole story. It’s only an entry point to a larger reality, a hint of what lies within. That’s why we have so many titles and names for ourselves. I’m “Pastor John,” (or “PJ” for short), an “ordained minister,” a “father,” a “wood-wrecker,” a “fellow dweller on this spinning orb.” Like us, God also has many titles, although far more than any human, given that God is so much harder to understand than the rest of us. So we call God the Alpha and Omega, Almighty Creator, Father, (and Mother to the more opened minded folks) and a number of other titles that help us, but still can’t convey the full message of who God really is.
In the end, it’s not the title that matters, but the content. To understand what cities are being referred to, you have to crack the cover of Dicken’s “A tale of two cities.” To know what the Pensive Pastor has to say, you have to read the words. And to know God, you have to form a relationship and get into dialogue with him for yourself. And if some of the titles for God frighten or worry you, use this one: Friend. Use it any time you need it. Any time you’re curious. Any time at all. And despite the difference between God and we humans, when you call Him friend, he’ll answer the same way. Try it, and I promise that the title will not disappoint you. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings October 1
I love presents. Being something of a woodworker and enjoying the role of home handyman, all shop related gifts are greatly appreciated throughout the year. If that’s a bit beyond your budget, I also love movies, especially those involving action, adventure, science-fiction and comedy, in any or all combinations. DVDs are preferable, but VHS is good too. Now, this isn’t so much a plea for prezzies (although I’m not above that, if you’re in a generous mood) as it is a broad way to give thanks for the nice gift someone recently gave to our own beloved St. James Presbyterian Church.
It was a used copy of “Highlander,” a pretty good film that spawned several sequels (none as good as the original) and a decent (but not as good as the original) TV series. OK, this film might not appeal to the whole congregation, but those who love sci-fi adventure flicks are pleased with this latest addition to our video library. Sadly, we’re not thrilled at how the gift came to us. You see, it came via air mail, in a manner of speaking. Well, it was thrown through our illuminated sign, causing several hundred dollars of damage, in addition to giving us pause to consider what kind of folks would do such a thing. Sure, it’s nice to have received a slightly used VHS version of an OK movie, but that’s about the only good thing that can be said for what was done.
Should we get mad at the low-lifes that broke our sign? Should we be afraid of what those scary people will do next? Should we be nonchalant and move on? I choose the latter, as you’ve probably already figured out from the way I started these musings. I could get mad, but what would that accomplish? God will deal with those folks in His own way. Being afraid of what might happen will only hold me back. So, I choose to laugh it off, because in the greater scheme of things, it’s not that serious. It’s only a sign, and while we might think of it as a sign of the times, we can’t let it slow us down. Things happen.
Imagine for a moment what it would be like if God always god mad at us when we messed up. Or imagine if God simply sat by in fear of how we might goof up the next time. Now, God is certainly not nonchalant about our mistakes, but He’s not harsh, either. God’s forgiveness knows now bounds. In God’s eyes, we’re never beyond hope. Redemption is just a prayer away. Hope is not ‘round the corner but right in front of us on an empty cross. All we have to do is turn away from our mistakes and turn back towards God. And we don’t even have to offer him a gift, a sacrifice, or even a used VHS movie.
Our forgiveness was bought and paid for by Jesus, and he did that not for a reward, but out of love. He did it because he was the only one that could. He did it because He wants us as His brothers and sisters. And really, that’s the only thing, the only gift, God wants in return. He wants us to be His children, and for us to call Him Father. He wants us to love Him as He loves us. Not with anger or fear, but, I believe, with a healthy sense of humour. After all, what could be funnier than a perfect God loving folks like us, both those who air mail gifts through illuminated signs, and those who laugh off such things. You’ve got to love a God like that. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings September 24
There used to be a day when starting and running a car involved prayer, art and mechanical skills. You had to get the choke right, and seek heavenly intervention to get the motor running. Once on the road, a deft hand, able foot, and well versed prayer-life were required to keep the engine going. My Honda Civic was notorious for being cantankerous on wet days. Rain, mist, fog, humidity, even someone spitting across town would cause it to sputter and stall. Trust me, despite the many good times I enjoyed in that car, there were moments when I would gladly have traded it for a decent raincoat.
On the other hand, in those days my expectations weren’t too high. I knew my Honda’s limitations, and happily compensated for them. So, when I rained, I carried lots of paper towels to dry the thingy under the hood that hated being wet, and tried to allow extra time for my journey. Yes, I may have complained bitterly a few times, but overall, I really enjoyed that car, warts and all. Maybe it was the fact that it was very cheap to run. Maybe it was the way she shined in the sun after a good wash and wax. Or maybe it was the fact that I didn’t have my hopes too high, and the Honda fit all my needs perfectly.
I started thinking about that car because of a recent experience on the golf course. I’m not an avid golfer, so I don’t keep up with all the latest trends. So imagine my surprise when I went out for a game and had to ride in a new golf cart. I wasn’t surprise about not being allowed to walk. Actually, I would have preferred it to riding the cart. What surprised me was the way it worked. You see, like my Honda, the cart was driven by a gas engine. However, unlike that bright red wonder, it had no problems starting or running. In fact, it started the moment you stepped on the accelerator. Then, when you lifted off the gas, the motor stopped, I imagine to keep the noise and pollution levels down.
What a great system: there was no fuel wasted, no audible distraction and no smell when the cart wasn’t needed. Then, as soon as you’re ready to go, the engine fired without hesitation, and you just drive away. Instant gratification. Simply step on the gas and you’re off and running. And it’s this thought that got me thinking about our expectations today. We don’t want to wait for anything. Nowadays, a car that had a hard time starting in the rain simply wouldn’t survive long on the market. Cars, stereos, dishwashers, even relationships have to work right now! or we’re not happy with them.
Thankfully, God isn’t in that much of a rush. He knows it takes us time to get right with Him. He’s patient when we don’t start out on the right foot the first time. He waits when we hesitate or stall. He bears with us when we take the long way round. Sure, it’s nice when things work right the first time. If my Honda wasn’t so picky in the rain or when you first turned the key, it would have been perfect. But then again, I didn’t expect perfection. I just wanted something that worked. And that’s what God’s like with us. He knows our limitations, and doesn’t care about instant gratification. He’s got all eternity to enjoy us, so even if it takes a lifetime to get close to him, it’s OK. He doesn’t might waiting, because he knows we’ll get there eventually. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings, September 17
Sometimes teenagers wonder how their parents unlearned so much wisdom from the time they went from being the semi-wise parents of a little kid, to being the slaves of a fully mature high-school student. But sometimes, they also marvel at just how ahead of the game those subservient older people can be, even if they are almost 50 years old. For me, it was a little bit of the former, and a lot of the latter, especially when it came to driving.
I’ve always been a car buff along with my dad. Every month he would by Road and Track magazine and we would pore over its pages like hungry wolves devouring their prey. In the 1970s that meant reading about cars that were increasingly safe, economical, and compact. That was cutting edge stuff. Most folks just wanted fast, huge and luxurious care, but not us. We believed we were bold visionaries fearlessly bucking the system. Mind you, it helped that we couldn’t afford the newest thing. It also helped that they grew up in Europe, where small, economical and stylish cars were the norm, and the big American offerings were beyond reason. Thus, we were the proud owners of a string of used Volkswagen Beetles and assorted Volvos.
While those were vastly different cars in many respects, they did share one item that proved to be way ahead of all other automobiles. Our various Beetles and Volvos all came equipped with seatbelts, years ahead of them becoming standard features. Furthermore, my folks, being the forward thinking rebels that they were, insisted that we use them at all times. That wasn’t too hard a sale for me, because everything I read pointed towards the wisdom of wearing seatbelts, and I didn’t mind appearing to have the upper hand (even if only in my mind) over all my foolish high-school friends.
The upshot is that my folks, although they were wrong in most areas of life, or at least those concerning the deep, probing questions that teen-agers ponder, were right in many practical areas. They thought treating folks nicely was good, and I agreed. Mind you, they did it because their church taught them it was right. Me, I thought it was more of an Eastern Karma type thing. They thought obeying the law was the right thing to do. Me, I just figured I’d play along with my political oppressors until the time for revolution was right. My folks thought good food was important, and that it should be as tasty as possible. Me… Oh, no, wait, I actually agreed with them on that point…
The point is, I think God looks at us like the parents of teenagers. He knows that we love him and depend on him. He knows we know better. He knows that we rebel partly because we need to find our own way, and partly because we’re too immature to do anything else. God also realizes that eventually, we will mature and come to realize that His way was the right way after all. Some visionaries get it right early. For others, it takes a lifetime, but they get there eventually. That’s OK. God is infinitely patient. He can wait a lifetime. He wants us to get back to him, to have the foresight to trust him before it’s too late, and the fearlessness to rebel against those that would lead us astray. Like I said, God is a lot like the parent of a teenager, something for which I am truly thankful. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings, September 10
It was to be an ordinary day in Thunder Bay. Wake up, work at home, go visiting, have dinner, attend an evening meeting, relax at home, go to bed. That was the plan, anyway. It all fell apart even before I got to the work at home part. Working at home, you see, entailed using my nice, fairly up to date computer, something that the church office didn’t have. So, I fired the thing up, only to hear an ominous clunk rather than the usual ticking noise.
The clunk turned out to be the main drive, the thing that stores all the computer programs and personal files I created, smashing itself into oblivion. Not only did I lose that nice, ordinary day, I lost several years worth of work, as well. You see, I had a great number of printed versions of my various creative things, ranging from sermons to lesson plans to music, but not everything was thus safeguarded. With the demise of the hard drive, thousands of hours of work simply vanished to nothingness.
Now, as painful as the loss was, I didn’t dwell on it too much. Yes, there were some good things missing, but nothing crucial. Most of my sermons were filed away. My music was scattered in a number of recordings and other formats all over the house. Same with lesson plans and the odd creative bit. The only things I truly missed were some very personal prayers I had written for a dear friend. Ah well, c’est la vie.
It was to be an extraordinary day. Lois had been visiting my dear friend, who had kept every one of those precious prayers. The lost was found. What had been written off was recovered. Mourning turned to sorrow, but here was a small hitch. Lois’ memory outlasted mine. Once I had gotten over the loss of the prayers, they meant nothing to me. Yes, I was sorry to see them go, but Lois holds on to things a little more. My pain was her pain and their recovery was a thing to be celebrated. Finding the prayers was her gift to ease the pain I had long since left behind. In having given up the prayers, I failed to notice how much their recovery meant to Lois, and I crashed her party.
God, however, wouldn’t let that go. He has made me truly thankful, and excited. While the prayers were in my friends hands, she showed them to a few other folks, folks who thought they are good enough to publish. So, God used them and Lois, so give the prayers new value in my sight. They aren’t an old pain healed, they are a new joy discovered. A gift out of the blue for which I am now truly thankful. An ordinary day made extraordinary.
God works that way, sometimes. Sometimes we become complacent. We get hard. We lose touch with what matters. God knew Lois would see beyond my limited vision. He used her to wake me up, to get me to appreciate my own work a little more. Beyond that, he helped me recognize that it’s not the gift, but the giving that blesses us. Lois’ appreciation of my skills was the true gift. The prayers were only an added bonus. The friends and family God gives us is the gift, but the way they reveal His love and attention is the true blessing. And it is those simple blessings that not only remind us of our worth, but also turn ordinary days into extraordinary ones. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings September 3
It was a casual day, a day I in the office and the church working away at a number of tasks. Janet, my secretary would be there in the morning, but being bound to the office, I wouldn’t see her too much. I had no appointments set for that day, and things were so quiet I didn’t really expect anyone to drop in. In effect, I had the place to myself, and so I decided to slip off the old sandals and go barefoot. After all, no one would see me, and with carpet throughout the church, my comfort level would be high wherever I went.
One of the tasks for that day was to try out a digital camera that I had on loan. Never having used one, I took a few minutes to wander around the property taking pictures in various lighting conditions. I also took the opportunity to go outside and get a couple of external shots to see what the camera could do. It was a fairly warm, if overcast, day. The cloud cover worked to my advantage because it meant the exterior of the church would be in fairly uniform light. So, out I went, camera in hand and shoes in office, since, as I mentioned earlier, it was a casual day. Not surprisingly, the clouds started dropping a fine mist of rain. Nothing too inconvenient, however. Enough to wet the pavement without dampening my enthusiasm. After all, I had a new toy to play with, and since it fit neatly into my hands, there was little worry of getting the camera wet.
Quickly and efficiently I took a few pictures, then started to wander back into the church. Surprisingly, a pick-up truck pulled into the parking lot behind me. The driver then got close by, opened his window, and asked if I needed any help. He had noticed that I was outdoors, in the misty rain, barefoot, and thought that I might be in need of help. Without embarrassment, but with a great deal of joy, I explained who I was and why I was without shoes, and Dan, who was an off-duty police officer drove off.
What an amazing thing to do. How could I not meet his selfless act without joy and surprise? He saw someone that looked to be in need and stepped up to help without hesitating. It was both wonderful and a little embarrassing. Oh, not about the missing sandals, but at the thought that I might not have been so quick to stop. Would I have reacted the same way? Would I have stopped for a shoeless guy taking pictures of a church in the a light downfall? Or would I have driven by? How about you? Would you stop or drive away? Would you be like Christ reaching out to anyone in need, or like some of the religious folks in His day who proudly walked by a broken man lying in the street? Are we more mindful of the way we look to the outside world, pants pressed, hair combed, shoes shined, or to the brokenness we see around us?
Officer Dan might have missed his mark that casual day a while back; I didn’t need the kind of help he was offering. But in one way, he was right on target. I needed, just as we all do, the love he so freely offered, because that’s how Jesus lets us know He’s alive and working in the world. Without hesitation, or embarrassment, He steps into our lives, revealing Himself not with lights and banners, but casually, surprisingly, and lovingly. One day it might be an off duty policeman. One day it might be me. And one day, it might even be you. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings August 27
Hello. My name is John, and I am a Computaholic. I have what may well be considered an unhealthy relationship with my computer. I use it for work. I use it for play. I use it to relax. I use it for stimulation. I use it to learn new things. I use it when I want to forget a lousy day. I use it to play games alone. I use it to keep in touch with friends. I use it to shop. I use it for inspiration. I use it to vent my frustrations. I even use it to get woodworking plans and tools.
Now, before you start sending me the numbers for the local mental health unit or suggest I find a chapter of Computaholic’s anonymous, let me make a couple of things clear about my relationship with this machine. It is not the be all and end all of my existence. I was able to create and think well before the dawn of the computer age, and have a number of non-computer generated works to show for it. Furthermore, even though I do a lot of things with the computer, I am not always at the computer. Yes, it does play a vital role in letting me do what I do, but it is not an unhealthy dependence. I can easily get by for days and even weeks without the thing.
That being said, I do enjoy using the computer’s abilities. Not that they are mystical, magical or particularly magnificent. But they are many. The computer’s sheer versatility helps me to express myself in new and different ways, enhancing and contributing to my gifts. Because I can type almost as quickly as I think (which admittedly isn’t as fast as I would like to confess) I can capture ideas on the fly, far more quickly than I can write them down. It also lets my do stuff with those ideas that I might not be able to do otherwise. One of the true blessings for me has been the ability to record a number of musical compositions, something that would have been next to impossible without a lot more training than I possess.
While the computer helps me a lot, it is no substitute for reality. There would be no point in my weekly Musings if they didn’t challenge or intrigue real folks. Sermon preparation would be meaningless if it didn’t answer the needs and curiosity of an actual congregation. Email pales in comparison with one to one contact. So, while my computer is a useful tool, I would probably miss my table saw and hand tools far more than a pile of plastic, silicon and wires. No matter how much help a computer is, it is no substitute for a time with my family, a good walk or a few fun hours making sawdust.
Our faith life sometimes falls into the “useful tool” category of life. We call on God when we need him, when we want something or when it’s time to do something helpful. Trouble is, God doesn’t see us that way. We aren’t a passing fancy or an occasional fling to Him. We are of interest to our heavenly creator all the time. Sure, he’s got His hands full running the universe, but that isn’t God’s main focus. We are. And He would like it very much if we paid a lot more attention to Him in return. In fact, getting hooked on God is the one sure way to get over all unhealthy dependencies in our lives, and it’s the only way to guarantee a comfortable and pleasant afterlife. Can an addiction be healthy? Well, when it comes to loving God as much as He loves us, the answer is a resounding yes. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings August 20
Somewhere in the back of one of my closets there rests a Pentax Spotmatic K1000 single lens reflex 35 millimeter camera. It’s probably 30 years old, in fine shape, and not used too much anymore. The K1000 is a top notch device. Featuring interchangeable lenses and full aperture mode control, it was a favourite of both amateur and professionals for a long time, the model having been in existence for longer than I have owned this particular version. It’s also a simple machine, with just the bare necessities, but still a complete system. With one or two lenses it’s ready to do just about anything.
It is a versatile device. Because you control everything, from the choice of lenses to the film speed, it allows you to capture fast paced outdoor sports events or relaxed studio portraits with equally expert results. A camera like that can also be a frustrating device if all you want to do is capture a few holiday snaps or the odd picture of occasional family get-togethers. Requiring a fair amount of fiddling and adjusting, it takes skill to get even the most basic shot right, which means that it’s not too user-friendly, especially when herding half a dozen 12 year old boys to record a spontaneous birthday moment.
Salvation, for me at least, came in the form of a Pentax PC35AF which, at the time, was the latest in easy to use and versatile devices. Featuring automatic focus, and aperture, as well as having a built in zoom lens, the little machine was a very user-friendly. Fitted with an optional motorized film advance, it was a complete, package perfect for the harried user with any number of kids to herd. Mind you, it wasn’t quite as versatile as the old Spotmatic. The built in zoom lens meant being stuck with the limited range of options. The automated exposure controls meant not being able to fine tune the camera for sports events. And the complexity of the mechanics meant that the thing wasn’t nearly as reliable as it’s older, much less mechanically inclined brother.
Ah well, you can’t have it all. In fact, even that more modern camera has now found it’s place on a closet shelf, a new fully digital camera having taken it’s place. The new device offers even more versatility, including the ability to capture sound and video clips, and having fewer mechanical parts, should be much more reliable. At least one can hope. Like I said, one can’t have it all. In the quest for the best balance between ease of use and flexibility, I’ll always be looking to the next best thing, at least as far as cameras are concerned.
As far as faith is concerned, that’s a different matter. God gives us all we need, no matter how much we might change, or think we have changed. Our creator knows us inside out, knows what us need, what we don’t need, what can and can’t be expected of us. And though personal tastes might change, God, ever unchanging, can meet every one of them. Never out of date, never too hard to know or to satisfy, God is always there for us. Most importantly, in His constancy, He will always find a way to use us, to love us, to be there for us. And as long as we keep trying, He will never relegate us to the back of the shelf. God will honour us no matter how great or small our efforts, appreciating us for no other reason that we are His beloved children. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings August 13
I have at my disposal, a vast array of information. It comes to me from around the world, from big famous cities I’ve had the pleasure of seeing for myself, and from little out of the way places I never even imagined were on the map. This information is authored by a variety of folks, some who are well-known to everyone, and some who are far more famous in their own minds than to any other human being. The information itself, like it’s origins and it’s authorship, spans everything from the REALLY IMPORTANT, to the extremely obscure and hardly of any use areas of life, the universe and everything. Of course, much of this preponderance of stuff comes courtesy of the internet, but being much older than that electronic reference resource, a lot of stuff also comes from the library, teachers and word of mouth.
Now, you might think that with all of this data at my disposal I would be an extremely intelligent person. After all, my brain is crammed full of facts and figures covering a vast range of topics and personal areas of interests. Surely, a cranium crammed to capacity must be indicative of incredible intellectual capacity. But if that’s the case, then a well stocked filing cabinet should be pretty smart, and the American library of Congress, with over 130 million volumes, should be an absolute genius. That’s not the case, however. While those objects might be a stockpile of every fact known to humanity, neither of them can actually to use any of the information they possess.
Intelligence has nothing to do with storing information. My love of gathering trivial facts is not a sign of genius. It’s might point to other abilities, or some capacity for rational thought, but just knowing stuff doesn’t mean I’m smart. Only if I can use the information can I be considered reasonably intelligent. (although the jury is still out.) While being able to bore folks with what I know might be use of information, it’s not very helpful. So, in order to be truly I am thought of as smart, I have to use what I know to help myself or others.
Some folks of faith feel mighty low because they feel they know so little about what they believe. They can’t recite all 66 books of the Bible. The don’t remember who Martin Luther was, what a Pope does, or how Anglicans and Presbyterians differ. As a result, they feel woefully ill-equipped to be of use, or somehow serve Christ, That’s not right. Faith, like intelligence is not linked to what we know. Having tons of facts about God, the Bible and your local church means nothing if you can’t share God’s love, understand whatever you do know of God’s word, or serve His church in even the smallest way.
Jesus, didn’t flood folks with facts. Sure, he outwitted the smartest minds of the time, but it wasn’t his Biblical knowledge that saved humanity. Jesus lived out what he knew about God. He turned the fact of God’s love into the act of salvation. That’s what’s expected of us, too. It’s not what we’ve learned but how we’ve loved; not about facts we’ve absorbed but hearts we’ve touched; not about knowledge gained but kindness given. I have to admit that it’s nice to know a whole lot about a wide range of subjects, but it’s even better to know God’s love by loving with all we’ve got. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings August 6
As I was driving along a scenic country road, I noticed a horse having dinner. Now, even though I am a city slicker and know little about animal husbandry, I knew this was a normal thing for a horse to do. However, my ignorance made itself known when I saw that the horse wore a hat-like thing that covered it’s eyes as well as most of its head. This seemed rather odd. Being possessed by a fat cat, I know that putting clothing on a pet leads to bloodshed. That is, I end up losing blood. So why would anyone go to the trouble of making their horse wear a hat that also denied it of sight? Would it not cause great grief and bucking? struggling with a twenty pound cat is bad enough; fighting an eight hundred pound horse seems to me totally unimaginable. I drove on wondering what was going on with the poor beastie, and decided to ask someone with a little more, well, horse-sense than me.
The answer was logical. I learned that what I called a hat was actually a fly-deflector thingy, (please note my use of the highly specialized language of the true horseman) I also learned that it did not blind the horse, as it was only a mesh over the eyes. It all made perfect sense once it was explained that way. And I also learned that there might be a bit of dissent from the horse, but that it would quickly learn to tolerate its headgear. That too made sense, since the I imagine the animal would soon realize that a little discomfort (and embarrassment) would lead to relief from pesky flies all over your head.
Armed with this knowledge, I will no longer stare in wonder next time I see a horse in a field wearing a hat that covers its eyes. But if I see something that puzzles me, I will again seek an answer from an expert. After all, it’s easier to confess my ignorance up front rather than hiding it. Asking questions is also a great way of getting to know a person, in addition to learning new things. If you let someone talk about a subject they love, express interest in their interests, or praise a neighbours expertise, you open the way to getting to know each other a little better.
So why is it that, when we have questions about God, or Jesus, or faith, we fail to ask them? Why don’t we ask a neighbour who might know, or read the Bible, or pray to God for clarity? Why do we bask in ignorance, or at least hope that nobody asks us that very thing we’re unsure about? When fail to ask those kinds of questions means we miss out on a lot of things. We miss the opportunity to deepen our faith, or to make a friend, or even to build a stronger relationship with God. Yet that’s what God wants from us. He wants us to know Him better, to fill us with wisdom, to know what faith is all about.
Trust me, he’s heard all kinds of questions, from the silly to the serious, so don’t let a little embarrassment get in the way. God loves you too much to humiliate you or put you down. You also have to realize that ultimately, it will be more embarrassing to show up at heaven’s gate not knowing God, than swallowing your pride and asking the pastor just who Jesus is. Go ahead. Ask the embarrassing questions, and you’ll soon have a clearer understanding of God, and His great love for you. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings July 30
It was one of those unexpected little pleasures, a moment my daughter was unaware of, a chance to enjoy her own personal, private joy as she sung along with… …the microwave.
Yes, friends, as the microwave entered it’s final moments of heating her lunch, Anna started counting down along with its clock. Then, as the device proclaimed it had finished preparing her food, it beeped the joyful news with three distinct notes, and my little girl chimed along in perfect unison.
We are, it would appear, a family of singers and hummers, and it doesn’t matter what the background music might be. Anna sings along with the microwave, a habit she picked up from her dad. Lois is most at home singing in a high level choir. When David is at peace with the world, he sings quietly to himself, sometimes randomly, sometimes offering perfect renditions of what he last heard on the radio or at church. I sing along with the radio happily belting out the good ol’ rock-n-roll I learned growing up, or the Christian variation I picked up in the past few years. Sometimes I even hum out the swing tunes my mum and dad would dance to whenever they had the chance.
My family and I are not alone in this pursuit. You can hear folks singing along to their walkmans, or MP3 players, lost in their own little music enclosed world. People always mouth the words silently at concerts while some of the braver members of the audience will even pound out the beat or strum out the melody in silent unison with the performers. Hikers, as long as no-one’s watching, have been known to imitate bird songs or the twitter of small animals. Even children barely able to speak make musical noises as they practice their communication skills or, like my son David, are just having a fine time all by themselves. Recordings, bands, microwaves and all other manner of noisy machines, nature, memories and even our private thoughts inspire and encourage the music within us.
With all this physical, audible evidence, there must be something to sing about. Some kind of music must be built into our very beings, a part of us so deep and ingrained that musicians, Mynahs and microwaves can draw a few notes even from those who consider themselves totally unskilled at singing. This is no wonder. There is no mystery to this built-in tunefulness. We are God made creatures, and God is constantly calling us to sing His praises, to make a joyful noise, strum, bang our blow a happy song heavenwards.
But with all the noise, with all the clamour and cacophony around us and within us, we often fail to hear the call. We hear music everywhere, but forget where it comes from. We make up tunes, buy CDs and tune into Webcasts, but we ignore the Master singer, the one that gave us our music in the first place. Can we be quiet enough to hear God? Can we silence our internal noise long enough to listen for His voice, His song, His melody ringing and resounding in our hearts? If we can sing along with the microwave, surely we can sing along with our Maker, too. After all, He’s the one that gave us our song in the first place, so it shouldn’t be that hard to sing it back to Him every once in a while. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings July 23
One of the great joys of my recent vacation in Italy was hiking up the small mountain adjacent to the town my parents once called home. Maniago is an ancient habitation that’s over a thousand years old, which is pretty remarkable. But what I find even more remarkable is how flat the place is, considering that it’s northern border marks the start of the pre-Alps, a small mountain range that eventually grows and expands into the Dolomites, and then the Alps themselves.
It’s really hard to imagine, but south of Maniago and the mountains, the terrain is as flat as it is around the Chatham, Ontario area. It’s so flat you can see the mountains clear from Venice, which is about 90 kilometers to the south. And there’s barely a transition between the flat and the bumpy bits. One minute you’re chugging along at a comfortable speed with just a light touch on the accelerator, the next you’re having to downshift and step hard on the gas in order to overcome the steep mountain slope. Mind you, you’ve got plenty of warning since the mountain doesn’t exactly hide itself from view, but even after having experienced this transition for nearly all my life, I’m still pretty awed and amazed by the whole thing.
This leads me to reflect on two different but connected aspects of faith and God’s role in our lives. The first is the way God transforms and lifts us up. He takes the flat part of our existence and raises it up, provides us with meaning and purpose when we seem to be just drifting along, stops us from just coasting in order to get us to do a little bit of climbing and growing. The second reflection is how often we’re surprised by these uplifting moments, even though they might be evident for miles ahead, just like the mountains that overshadow Maniago are visible all the way from Venice, an hour and a half away.
Of course, part of the problem is that we can get accustomed to our environment. From Venice, the pre-Alps are just part of the scenery. Even as you drive north towards them, your too busy concentrating on the road ahead to take any note of the majesty that lies ahead. Likewise, in our day to day faith-life, we’re so nose-down to what concerns us at the moment that we fail to notice the magnificent possibilities around us. One moment we’re quietly mumbling a prayer about something or other, bathed in God’s splendid grace, yet totally unaware of His embracing love, then next we’re face to face with that glory as God finds a way to lift our heads to see just where we are.
It might be a simple moment of grace, a child’s laugh drawing us away from our oh-so-valued self-importance, or it might be a soul-fulfilling way to share ourselves our or gifts, a mountain top experience that shows us just how high we can get when we give God a chance to work through us. My prayer is that we all might notice God’s magnificence a little more often, that we might seek His loftiness rather than just coast along, and that we do so in a way that will help others know His amazing love. All we have to do to see that prayer come to life is to choose between a flat life living in shadow of the mountain or climbing the up and into the light of His glory. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings July 16
One of my great fears when producing this little tome, is that of repeating myself. I’m always afraid that I might say the same thing over and over again. Indeed, every time I get my Musings ready, I worry that I might be saying something I’ve said before. After all, there’s nothing worse than being known as the guy who keeps saying the same thing. Or the person that keeps saying the same thing. Or the individual that keeps saying the same thing.
It happens with my preaching too. What if I’ve already covered a topic? Have I used this same sermon title before? Has this particular phrase or illustration been featured in a previous talk? It’s a worry that keeps coming on, especially as I get more and more sermons and musings under my belt. Originality is important, not simply for the sake of being seen as clever and witty, but in order to ensure that the message delivery never becomes stale or repetitive.
Yet for all my worries, there is a certain sense in which repetition is a vital part of what I do. While the delivery should vary depending on circumstance, audience and particular needs, the basic content of the message remains pretty much the same. From week to week, even from moment to moment, my message is nothing more than God loves you. That’s the core of what makes Christians unique. It’s what allows forgiveness to happen. It’s what drives us to serve others selflessly. It’s what gives us hope beyond this life into the next. So the message itself gets repeated constantly, although the delivery and exact focus varies from second to second.
Repetition also comes into play because we humans are kind of repetitive. We like to do things we enjoy over and over again, just as we often make the same mistakes more than once in our lives. Our day to day lives usually drive the contents of my talks and writings. That being the case, it’s a given that I’m going to repeat myself from time to time, precisely because we humans tend to do the same things over time. Think about our life cycle. Our pattern of growth isn’t limited to just one generation. Every day a new generation is being born, while another one dies. So given a room filled with an average population mix, you’re going to have all kinds of people at different stages of life. So it’s only natural that the same message delivered a year or two ago might need to be repeated, since it’s quite likely that folks are experiencing that same need.
So, what I’m saying is that I’m not so much afraid of repeating the message, as repeating a delivery. I’m always careful to ensure that what I offer comes across in a new way, in some way that will cause folks to perk up and listen and learn. It might not always work, but hopefully, someone will hear the Good News with the same fresh attitude in which it is delivered.
I find God is good that way. He always manages to break into our lives in ways that speak to us in exciting new ways. His love might be constant, but there are an infinite number of ways He reveals it. And when it comes to sharing that love, whether in print or in action, it certainly bears repeating over and over again. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings July 9
I guess while I’m on the subject of images and TVs and things like that, I’ll finish up with a few thoughts on the art of Television. Television is, quite literally, the ability to see things remotely. With this amazing device, human beings can be transported as far as a camera travel, without, as they say, leave the comfort of their home. I was there (remotely) when Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon. I was there (remotely) both times the Toronto Blue Jays won the world series. Why, I’m old enough that I was there (remotely) when Toronto last won the Stanley Cup. Nowadays, I manage to take a peek (remotely) at the main square of my parent’s home town in Italy.
Which brings up an interesting point. Even though I choose to turn on my computer and visit the website that shows me the televised image of that little place in Italy, I am at the whim of the broadcaster as to what I see. It is up to that remotely located person to place the camera, to turn it on and to ensure that the lens is free from obstructions. In other words, even though I choose when I’m going to see the image, I have no control over the content. In fact, neither does the broadcaster. He just leaves the camera pointed at the town square and lets the residents of Maniago entertain the world with their day to day comings and goings. Of course, that’s what I like watching for a few minutes every day. Sometimes I overhear interesting conversations, sometimes nothing at all happens, but I’m always happy for the little visit. But in other circumstances, I’m not always that happy.
Regular TV, the stuff that is packaged and programmed to the hilt, is much more out of my control than I like. Oh, sure, I can pick and choose the programs I want, when I want to, and I can always turn off the TV or even cancel my satellite subscription, but that doesn’t change the way television broadcasters try to control their audience. That’s right, broadcasters try to control their audience. They try to get us to keep watching their programs. They try to get us to buy stuff. Such is their power that they can even influence the way we see the world. So, on the one side we have television: remote viewing, and to a degree remote control. And on the other side we have ourselves, humanity, with our ability to choose. It’s up to us to determine just how TV affects us, because otherwise the world would be a scary place.
Now, imagine if God treated us the way TV programmers did. Imagine a world in which Tele-God controlled our every thought and action remotely. That would be a pretty scary place. We would be no better than automatons doing God’s will. But that’s not the world God envisioned for us. Along with all our other blessings, God gives us the freedom to love and follow Him as we will. And while there is a sense in which He’s far away, through Jesus and those who love Him, He is no further away than a hug or a prayer. Of course, it’s up to us to get close to God. It’s up to us to learn about Him and what He wants for our lives. But in that journey, we can be sure that we will never be forced or cajoled or constrained in any way. And when we make that choice, we don’t have to worry about a Tele-God. God is always as close to us as a loving friend. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings July 2
Having shared a little bit about what makes TVs and cameras click last week, I started thinking about the content we’re trying to capture by using those devices. While cameras are pretty smart about remembering what they see, they have absolutely no influence over what they capture. No camera will ever tell you that you’re cutting off Aunt Matilda’s feet, or that the cloud you think looks like Elvis is really more similar to Kermit the Frog, or that you are about to take the best extreme close-up picture of your thumb ever imagined.
It is entirely up to a human operator to make something of the image a camera captures. Good and bad photos rest more on the artistic eye of the be-taker than the mechanical aptitude of the machine. That’s why its so important to find a good photographer when you want the best possible image of dear old grumpy Aunt Matilda. You want to put her in an environment that gives her confidence, with a person that can look beyond her personality quirks to see the true beauty hidden within.
Mind you, sometimes no matter how fine the photo, someone will think it’s much more suitable for patching shoes than gracing a wall. Since beauty is both in the eyes of the beholder and the be-taker, and since both persons have their own opinion about what is and is not attractive, you might as well give up trying to please others when trying to be an artistic with your camera work. At least that way you’re certain that at least one person will be happy.
That’s the nice thing about a camera. It never talks back. Oh, some of the more modern devices might tell you when you need to use a flash, and a few automatically adjust the image to get rid of the dreaded red-eye phenomenon, but virtually no camera in existence will tell you that Aunt Matilda might not be the most attractive person you’ve ever photographed. A mere tool in the hand of all-thumbs amateur and master artist alike, the camera will shoot whatever is presented before it with equal impartiality.
God, the master artist of all creation, sees and judges things far more clearly than any camera or human ever could. He looks beyond flesh and bone to our very souls, and knows not only what we look like, but who we are. But God chooses to see the best in us rather than looking for the worst. While we might not always be the best subject for His attention, he still manages to see something lovable and desirable within us, something that will drive Him to leave ninety-nine good people in order to go seek out just one lost soul.
It is that desire to see the good in us that lets God forgive us when we go astray. It’s that ability to see the possibilities in us that never lets Him give up on us. It’s a love that is completely undeserved that causes God to care for us and cry for us even when we do our best to avoid him. Of course, it makes sense that God should see the beauty that lies within each of us. He made us in His image, so why shouldn’t there be amazing goodness and beauty within us. Aunt Matilda might not be the prettiest woman in the world on the outside, but when we recognize her as a child of God, we see her as the true beauty she really is. And if we treat her in a Christ-like way, she might well think we’re pretty attractive, too. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings June 25
Once you get past the chemistry, taking a picture isn’t that hard. All you need is a chemical that reacts to light, and a way to stop that reaction once you have exposed the image. Well, OK, it’s a little more complicated than that, but it’s basically that simple. Cover a sheet of paper with the appropriate stuff, put it in a box where you can control the light coming in, and away you go. Perhaps the best example of this simplicity is found in Polaroid cameras, which let you snap a shot, and in a few minutes, offer you a permanent record of your chosen subject.
The great thing about traditional photography is that the process is similar to that of the human eye in two respects. First, the human eye contains chemicals that react to light. Secondly, and more appropriately to these musings, is that both photos and eyes process a vast amount of information all at once. Open your eye and the brain processes the whole picture at once. Open the camera shutter and the whole frame of film is exposed in one go.
This rapid absorption of information fascinates me because its something that neither televisions nor digital cameras can do. Both methods of reproducing images require that the information be doled out to them one tiny bit at a time. So, when you open the shutter on any kind of electronic camera, unlike our eye, it has to analyze the picture and break it down into manageable wee chunks of data before it can even begin to think about storing it permanently.
Processing all the image information takes time and effort. Televisions cut back on this time by handling less data, thus producing a lower quality image. Digital cameras, on the other hand, process lots of information, but take more time to do it. While the time lag isn’t too bad under normal circumstances, it’s not good for folks used to the rapid fire abilities of old school film cameras. In fact, the time delay can be pretty frustrating even in normal circumstances, so, grumpy old Aunt Matilda might have her patience tried holding her smile extra long if you’re shooting her (photographically!) in poor lighting conditions.
Faith is somewhere between an instant Polaroid camera and its pokey digital counterpart. There is a lot to take in for the person that is seeking a healthy relationship with God. At times we can handle great chunks of information with little or no effort. Think about a child’s understanding of the resurrection. They take it all in as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, especially when it’s shared with a genuine sense of the miraculous having actually happened. On the other hand, sometimes we have to mull over things for a long time before they begin to make sense.
Ultimately, what matters isn’t so much how we’ve absorbed the information, or even how long. Whether it takes a lifetime to commit to Christ or just an instant doesn’t matter as much as actually making the commitment. God knows our hearts and how we deal with things, and He knows that faith isn’t always the easiest thing to absorb. So whether we accept His Son in an instant or over a lifetime, the welcome is the same. Whether we’re Polaroid quick or digital slow, God will take us however, and whenever we come to him. All that really matters is that we get there. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings June 18
I am in something of a unique position. Being recognized as a minister, people will open up to me with the most amazingly personal things. I’ve heard way too much about misbehaving ex-spouses, failed career paths and yes, even the sex lives of complete strangers, than I ever thought I’d want to know. But it isn’t only since my ordination that folks have wanted to talk to me. Even when I was in high school, people would seek me out for council, a listening ear, or a soft shoulder. Later on in life, restaurants, parties and even work were places where folks would come and confide in me, share their stories with me, and open themselves up in ways often unexpected but never unappreciated.
I’m not entirely sure why this is. There is no adequate explanation for why folks seem to come to me. Whatever the reason might be, it’s not something I’ve ever shied away from. I genuinely enjoy hearing people’s stories. If possible, desired and necessary, I try to offer useful advice. At other times, it seems like its enough simply to have a willing ear, one that will not cast judgment, express dismay, or try to change the person in anyway. No matter what folks need, I try to be there for them, having realized a long time ago that more often than not, it’s a matter of just being there at the right time and the right place.
Neither can I explain why I enjoy listening to folks. It’s just who I am. But one thing I do know is that folks need to talk things out. We are built to communicate our ideas verbally, to express with air and vocal cord what nerves and synapses figure out in the brain. And quite often, the act of speaking to another person is more than enough. It doesn’t matter who they are. It doesn’t matter what training they have. All it takes is the ability to sit quietly for a few minutes. More often than not, the presence of a listening, receptive soul is all some folks really need.
Given this natural tendency for people to want to talk to others, it surprises me that few people seize the opportunity to pray. What is prayer, after all, but a conversation with God? There is no deep mysterious language. It doesn’t require training, and it certainly doesn’t demand an appointment. God is always on call to listen. He is always ready to lend an ear, no matter how trivial or how immense the issue might be. And God knows just how to respond. He knows if you need a sign or clear direction. He knows if you only need some time to vent your spleen. And He knows that it’s better for us to talk to Him, even in anger, rather than holding things inside where they can cause more harm than good.
Jesus took plenty of time to chat with his Father. Before and after the big events in His life he would take time to check in or to build himself up. Now, He hears our prayers, directs them to his Father, and adds his own prayers to help. So whenever we turn to God in prayer, Jesus helps us out. He supports us, cries with us, speaks when we don’t know what to say. Prayer doesn’t replace one to one contact, and vice-versa. God made us so that we benefit from both human and spiritual communication. Thankfully, since God leaves nothing to chance, he gives us many ways to meet those needs. Through friends, family, coworkers, ministers or through His own Son, God ensures that we will be heard and cared for. And guess what: you might even be the one to be put in that unique position of listening on God’s behalf. You never know. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings June 11
Renown authors William Shakespeare and Miguel de Cervantes both asked: “Can one ever desire too much of a good thing.” Reflecting a major role in everybody’s life, it would seem that the answer is obvious. At first glance the answer is no, one cannot have too much of a good thing. After all, how can anything good also be bad? Well, list of Seven Deadly Sins compiled by the early church well before de Cervantes or Shakespeare, (Gluttony, Lust, Greed, Sloth, Wrath Envy and Pride, gives us the answer. Too much money, golf, or double-chocolate-fudge-surprise ice cream is definitely a bad thing.
Think of the weeds that threaten to overwhelm every gardeners best efforts. One of the reasons weeds succeed so well it that they have nice broad leaves that lett them capture a lot of sun. But this proclivity for capturing the sun’s beneficent rays can also be a weed’s downfall. Weed and Feed is one of my favourite products, partly because it works, but partly because it’s so darn clever. It’s basically a lot of rich food and a bit of deadly chemical. Weeds and grass both soak it up with equal aplomb. However, the weed’s broader leaves allow it to get the lion’s share of the product.
This is where the clever part begins. A weed’s glutinous habits cause it to consume far more Weed and Feed than is healthy for it. In effect, it overdoses on the stuff, causing it to die in a day or so. Grass, with a much more moderate appetite, gets the nutrition, but not nearly enough of the poison to harm it. Thus, too much of a good thing is certainly proven to be quite the deadly sin as far as Dandelions are concerned. Actually, it’s not too good as far as people are concerned, either.
The trouble with good things, like food, fun or finances, is that we get spoiled. Too much of anything also makes us appreciate it less because we get too used to it. When you eat a sugary snack. the sweetness dulls your tastebuds, so that the next sweet you eat doesn’t taste as good. Too much of a good thing makes us fat and unhealthy. Think of very rich folks with tons of cash and possessions. It overflows around them. It overwhelms them. It’s a fat glut of stuff they can’t possibly contain, enjoy or appreciate. That’s why too much of a good thing is in reality a bad thing
Unless you happen to be talking about God’s love, in which can You can never have too much. Can you ever be forgiven enough? Can you ever be liked enough? Can you ever be desired enough? Can you ever be cared for enough? That’s what God’s love is all about. And God’s love, whether in great or short supply, can only lead to good things. Nothing else can do that. Not money, the perfect round of golf or the tastiest ice-cream can do it. Their joy is brief and incomplete. God’s love, on the other hand, is all that we need.
The reason you can’t have too much of God’s love is that you can’t hold onto it. God’s love wants to travel from us to others. It wants to be share with neighbour and stranger alike. It gives itself away and fills us up again so that we can have more to give away. So, while too much of earthly pleasures are definitely a bad thing, when your talking about God’s love, you can never have too much. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings June 4
I’ve got to admit that I was somewhat hurt the other day. I had just overheard (well, actually, over-read) an email conversation between my wife and a member of the congregation, and what I read didn’t seem too supportive. This is something Lois and I do quite often with emails from mutual friends. Unless specifically instructed otherwise, we know that all conversations are shared ones, since we have absolutely nothing to hide from one another. So, when I read that “the church website didn’t look too good…” I naturally figured that it refered to the St. James site, which I happen to have designed.
I could have spared myself both pain and embarrassment had I known both sides of the conversation. It seems that Lois had pointed Rachel to one church’s rather sad website, and that she had no problems with the one I had created for St. James. Oops. But in my defense, I hadn’t assumed too much. Only a few days earlier I had talked to Rachel, live and in person, about the website. As far as I knew, her talk with Lois simply continued that chat.
Now, I’m sure I’m not alone in finding myself in this situation. We often enter into a conversation half way in, only to get the wrong impression. Co-workers are chatting and we are shocked to learn of the death of a loved one, not realizing that they’re talking about a TV show. We’re at a party where folks are talking about what a jerk the host is, without realizing they’re talking about someone that happens to have the same name as our beloved party-thrower. Admit it: you too have walked into the wrong side of the conversation at the wrong time.
The solution is simple. Either we make sure we have all the facts before jumping to conclusions, or be prepared to be confused until we get up to speed with what’s going on. Try as we might, there are always times where we get into a discussion halfway into it. Sometimes it’s a matter of timing; at other times it’s a case of joining a what is to us a new group, but is in reality one that’s been talking for quite a while, like when we join a club without knowing any of the members. In every case, we should listen to what’s being said before assuming the worse and hurting ourselves unnecessarily.
I wish that would happen more often in matters of faith. There are a lot of folks out there who think they know what Christians are talking about without really having a clue about the truth. Instead, they rely on second or third hand sources, or they listen to select bits of the conversation, or they just make assumptions based on what they think is happening. The result is a lot of fear, suspicion and confusion from folks not involved with church They don’t know the real joy of a healthy faith. They don’t understand how much God loves them. They don’t see how much people of faith make the world a better place.
It’s not hard to know why there are such feelings of fear, suspicion and confusion about out faith. There’s a lot of garbage being said, and we’re not doing anything about it. We can do a better job of sharing our faith, not just with folks who are just like us, but with the lost and confused, too. Let them see how faith improves life; show them the good Christians do; share God’s love freely. Sure, some folks may enter our chats halfway and not know what we’re talking about. So let’s welcome them in, share the Good News, and there is no way that their confusion will last very long. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings May 28
I am not a great fan of one of the world’s richest men. Mr. Bill Gates, I must admit in all truth, is not one of my heroes, no matter how rich or capable he may be. It’s not personal. It isn’t as if I have met him in person and found him to be utterly detestable. It’s more a matter of the company he runs, and the way it operates, in it’s production and promotion of its now ubiquitous operating systems, pun fully intended, The Windows family of products has been marketed, in various flavours, as fast, reliable, adaptable and capable. From personal experience, I have found none of them to be anything like Mr. Gates and his dearly beloved Microsoft have claimed.
Call it guilt by association, if you will. I just can’t help dissociate the man from the company; since I’m not a fan of the company, I am not a fan of the man that founded it. There is, however, a great big but, and here it is.
But, I have to admit that despite certain technical and maybe even ethical doubts about the company in general, I have been quite impressed by its service. Any time I’ve had technical issues, I have been able to resolve them with the help of capable and knowledgeable individuals. Each experience with tech support, either on the phone or via email has been pleasant and efficient. When I had to reactivate an old product that was going to be used on an ancient machine, the clerk that answered the phone was very nice. She didn’t laugh when I explained my situation. She just gave me the authorization code that let me resurrect a “vintage” computer with equally “vintage” software.
I’ve had a few other similar experiences with folks at Microsoft. I’ve been able to recover lost discs, save crashed programs, and even obtain free products through the kindness of various employees. With every experience, my dislike for the company has gone down while my respect for Mr. Gates has risen. Oh, I’m still not a fan, but I figure that any man smart enough to hire good employees and encourage them to be courteous can’t be all that bad. Sure, there are basic things I disagree with, but as long as they keep providing the excellent service I’ve enjoyed so far, I can’t complain too much.
How different it is with God and humanity. In God’s case, we have little to argue about. God is eternally good, loves humanity with a death defying passion, and is generous beyond all imagining. Too bad, isn’t it, that a few individuals often make God look quite bad. Think of some of the Biblical heroes and their bone-headed actions. Think of history of the church and some of it’s less than clever moves. Think of some of the blowhards making noise nowadays, and you’ll see what I mean. Bill Gates’ employees make him look good. God’s faithful often do just the opposite.
Yet when we get on board with God, He can make us look good. He can take the lowliest lump of human clay and fashion it into a thing of beauty. Even when we purposefully go against him, he can use us for something beautiful. Call it grace by association. Say that God’s goodness is infective. Say what you will, God can make the least of us into the best and brightest of all, and that’s nothing to complain about. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings May 21
As both a woodworker (actually, more of a woodwrecker) and a history of technology buff, I am quite a fan of West coast longhouses. Longhouses were the traditional gathering place for Native Americans, large single room facilities that could accommodate parties, meetings and religious gatherings. The fascinating thing about the West coast longhouses is how they were built. They were made of large wood planks taken from the massive Western Red Cedars that used to cover much of British Colombia.
These planks were huge and quite thick. Rather than the cardboard thin pressboard paneling we’re used to in our homes, these were often two or three inch thick slabs of wonderful aromatic cedar. They were also quite broad, up to three or four feet wide, which makes sense given that the trees from which they were removed were often hundreds of feet tall. Equally fascinating was the way these boards were hewn from there source.
Modern sawmills use massive saws powered by mighty gas or diesel engines. As you might suspect, the Native Americans of a century ago did not possess such technology. In fact, they didn’t even have the hand powered saws found elsewhere throughout the world for many centuries. So how did they manage to get such large boards from even larger trees without the technology used elsewhere since days of old? Well, the Native American woodworkers made use of an even older technology known simply as “the wedge.”
One of the virtues of those old growth Western Red Cedars is the fact that they were very straight trees. This allowed the Longhouse builders to simply split the wood along the grain, and “Voila!” they had their lumber. They just stick a wedge at the desired thickness of board and hammered away. Once the wedge was in far enough, the wood would crack along the grain, allowing them to pull of great, long, wide planks with relative, highly muscular ease.
Sawing wood takes a great deal of effort. You are actually ripping tiny bits of wood away with every stroke of the saw. Wedges, on the other hand, cleave the wood. They take advantage of the “grain,” of the thousands of fibres lined neatly and compactly together that form the wood. While the fibres themselves are very strong, the joint between adjacent fibers is not. Native American woodworkers used wedges to take advantage of this weakness, providing them with the massive boards used to build their Longhouses.
Since God, who is amazingly powerful, made us humans in His image, we’re pretty strong too. As individuals, we can be quite forceful. Like the fibers that make up a tree, our bindings are often the weak spot. Human relationships are hard to maintain and all too easy to pull apart. The relationship between God and humanity can be even weaker. Too many wedges cleave us from our maker. But God’s love overcomes them all. It’s the glue that not only binds us to Him, but to other humans. Through Jesus, we see that love in a practical way, a way that shows us sticking to God isn’t really that hard. All we have to do is to love God as God loves us. If we do that, not even the biggest wedge can come between us and our creator. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings, May 14
Back when I had much more time for my electronic hobby, getting parts was always a big concern. It wasn’t always easy to get what I needed. Sometimes the plans I used caused me to go all around the city because not every retailer carried every component necessary. That often meant picking up one part from one store, then heading over to another one part of town for the next vital bit. Mind you, the hunt was accepted as part of the challenge. It was fun to go a see what each store had to offer, even if it meant using the Toronto Transit Commission’s services all day long.
One great timesaver was the variety pack. Often stores or manufacturers would put similar components together in logically arranged groups and sell them for less than what it would cost to buy the parts one by one. This was a great way to stock up on many of the more common components. It also saved me time and subway tokens. The downside of this packaging was getting all those components for which I had no use whatsoever. That’s not to say that they weren’t useful to somebody. The manufacturers weren’t stupid or wasteful. It was just that not everything is always needed by everybody.
Nowhere was this more evident than in the most popular variation of this variety pack, which was that exciting product known as the grab bag. Grab bags were the retailers answer to the variety pack. Clever vendors would combine many common and useful components with other, ahem, less marketable bits. With a bit of patient exploration you could often get many really good bits in those grab bags. Bring down a long parts list and a pencil, and you could spend some quality time picking the one grab bag that met your needs. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a fun economical way to shop.
Mind you, it was also something of a puzzle, because there was always at least one part for which there was no logical explanation. For every ten or twenty parts that were at least recognizable, there was always one that raised more questions than it answered. What’s the thing with four wires and the little spinny thing? Why would anyone make a dinglefloozeit that big? And how could anybody adjust that little whatchamacallit’s tiny hard to reach screws? Yes, the grab bag often yielded as many oddities as it did bits for a parts list. a price we hobbyists willingly paid, both because of their economy of scale, and for the sheer “Wow!” factor of those neat, but useless curiosities.
God’s world contains a lot of those curiosities, oddities and mysteries. They are the folks we can’t quite figure out, the ones that don’t fit in, the one’s that seem out of place in our neat and tidy existence. But unlike those strange components that I would leave dusty and unused on my shelf, God calls us to include and love even the oddest human we encounter. Sure, they might seem a bit weird, but there’s no way of really telling without getting involved with them. And who knows, or really cares. No matter how odd someone might seem, God doesn’t love them any less than someone that seems a lot more normal. If this seems hard to do, remember this: in the great grab bag of life, no matter how normal and useful we may think we are, we might seem very odd to someone else. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings May 7
Our family cat, mittens, is an expressive, speaker. She can communicate a wide assortment of desires, and does so with little prompting. And trust me, according to her, the need arises all too frequently. “Feed me; No, not that junk, the good stuff.” “My water bowl is empty; again.” “My bathroom area is unsatisfactory.” “Your touch is making me uncomfortable.” Your presence next to me is uncomfortable. Your presence in this room is making me uncomfortable.” Your existence on my planet is making me uncomfortable.”
Not that she’s always complaining, mind you. Sometimes she expresses great delight. Stroke her on just the right spot between her hears, and she purrs with great delight. Offer her a bit of leftover roast and she becomes ecstatic. Pretend that you are about to drop off the face of the earth so that she can finally be in charge and she practically flips out with joy and elation. Make no mistake about it, she whether negative or affirmative, Mittens get her point across despite her inability to write or speak. It’s really amazing how much a meow can say. It’s even more amazing how the perfectly chosen and executed flick of the tail can convey.
Mind you, even though she has a fair bit to say, what she has to say is actually very limited. Feed me. Water me. Pet me. For heaven’s sake get away from me. Oh, there are variations in degree of urgency and some flexibility as to whether the need is real or simply a matter of putting me in my place, but for the most part, she doesn’t have that much too say.
Strangely enough, we humans, with our incredible ability to communicate in so many different ways, often are far worse communicators than even a lowly cat. We don’t always know how to express anger or displeasure without turning it into a weapon. We hesitate and stumble when asking for help. We have no idea how or when to express our emotional need. Yes, despite the brilliance some poets and playwrights might achieve, most folks don’t really know how to make themselves heard clearly or effectively.
But not so strangely, our creator manages to filter through our stumbled words and bumbled prayers to hear our hearts deepest desire. He can hear beyond a Presbyterian’s stoic silence to the cries of his broken heart. He can hear beyond an overzealous singers musical fiasco to the praise and love that is at the core of her performance. He can hear beyond our uninformed speech to the what we actually know to be true. He can even hear the relief we hide when we realize that God is really taking care of us.
Given that God is our all knowing creator, its no wonder He understands our muddled speech. Trouble is, sometimes he’s the only one that does, while friends, neighbours and family members are often in the dark: “What do you mean?” “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” “Did she really just say that?” Maybe we could take a lesson from our cat. Say what needs to be said. Say it clearly. Make sure you’re heard. That would make a big difference in most of our lives, especially if we don’t take on her self-centered tone. It might also help if we remember, unlike my furry overseer, we need to listen as intently as we need to speak clearly. AT least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings April 30
In the course of my daily activities, I often have access to, and use of, some four computers. Each of these electronic marvels has some kind of key connected with it. In some cases, the key is just a bit of brass cut the right way. In others they key is a password, a particular combination of letters known only to a select few people. In either case the great power of a modern computer can easily be thwarted by just one tiny key.
Such keys, whether its an old, heavy in the hand brass device or something less tangible, like the name of your ex-boyfriend’s annoying canary, a becoming ever more present in our increasingly security conscious world. As the criminal’s level of intelligence increases, so to does the complexity of the key. Nowadays you can buy devices that your thumb-print or your retina as the secret “word” to let you in. In effect we ourselves, or at least certain relatively unchangeable aspects of ourselves, are now the key. Yet even using something as complex and individual as a thumbprint still boils down to one relatively small thing opening a bank’s massive vault door or allowing you to access the world of information available on the internet.
This all seems tremendously out of proportion to me. It’s kind of like having a single grain of sand causing an landslide. You know it’s possible. You can see the incredible effect afterwards, but it seems utterly impossible that the weight of one tiny particle should be enough to cause tons of material to collapse. It’s the same thing with a key. Imagine just one key, the final last key, having the power to launch enough missiles to cause the end of the world. It might seem far fetched, but during the cold war, we faced just such a situation as hundreds, if not thousands of inter continental ballistic missiles were waiting for one simple command from a either a democratic or communist leader.
Yet if this is the case, if we know that one small thing can make all the difference in the world, if one key can start a jumbo jet or one password can open you up to the mass of material on the information highway, why is it so hard for people to accept that one person could, and did, change the world. Why is it so hard to fathom that one man still changes the hearts of millions? Why is it so hard to hold on to the fact that Jesus can fix heal not only a damaged eye, but all of humanity?
We are desperately conscious of our security. We hide the key to our safety deposit box someplace far from our account numbers. We know that having the password or the key could result in financial ruin. At the other extreme, we also know that there is one simple key, one easy password, one convenient access point that set everything straight. Using it freely, giving it away, making it accessible to any and all could make our whole world a far better place.
Mind you, using the password opens up a whole new set of possibilities. When we call on Jesus we receive love, mercy and kindness, but we also serve, follow and forgive. There’s no getting around the fact; Jesus is a mighty powerful password for those seeking a better life. I’m not entirely sure why more folks don’t use it, but I do know that it’s one password that should never be kept secret. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings April 23
Nature and engineers both like stability and simplicity. As much as possible, they try to keep the number of parts used in a project down to a minimum. A tree is a big stick, uh, “sticking” out of the ground with multipurpose roots to both holding it upright and feeding it. Sure, the parts count seems high given the number of individual roots, but it’s a matter of proportion. The nutrients in the earth are very small, and they are spread over a large area. Nature’s solution? Simply provide many wee roots to reach into the dirt’s nooks and crannies, but only enough to feed the tree at its present size.
The engineer’s simplest version of a tree is a tripod. Three legs fastened together at the top to hold each other up, with simple bracing at the bottom to keep them from spreading apart (unless your top brace can do that job, too), each leg sharing the load, the tripod getting the job done with a minimum number of parts. Since it’s not alive, there’s no need for feeding, so no root system is required. In fact the structure is so stable that adding a fourth leg actually makes it harder to keep in perfect balance.
Human relationships also are most stable when they are simple. We like balance. We like opposites to even themselves out in relationships. We like it even more when we’re on the same page with others. And when we keep things simple, when we try to express emotions directly rather than hiding them, when we say what we mean the easiest way possible, when we do what we say we’ll do, we tend to be much happier, and successful. When we practice tolerance and do our best not to test one another’s patience, we end up being more pleasant to be with. It also makes life a lot simpler.
But this simplicity, found in nature, engineering (which is actually humanity’s attempt at doing for itself what nature does, well, naturally…) or in the most direct and satisfying relationships is nothing compared to God’s version of simplicity. Think about forgiveness. It’s the simplest thing in the world. It doesn’t even require the other person to be involved. We can do it all on our own. Jesus was able to do it for all humanity. Perfectly simple, I forgive you, and you don’t have to do anything for me to accomplish my goal. Jesus forgives us, and we don’t have to do anything in return.
Well, that’s the theory, anyway. Real life is much more complicated. We put all kinds of conditions on forgiveness. The other person has to change. I have to be in the mood. God has to tell me what to do. You pick an excuse for not forgiving, and trust me, God’s already heard it. Trouble is, when we don’t forgive simply and purely, life gets more complicated. Harbouring grudges only makes things worse. Anger causes us to do horrible things. Failing to move on leads us to hurt ourselves and those we fail to forgive.
Simply put, lack of forgiveness denies the other person the kind of love that Christ offered by dying for our sins. It’s a struggle, I know. It’s hard to be forgiving to someone that hurt us deeply, but it is who we are called to be. We are children born of mercy, not might. We are blessed by grace, not merit. And we are alive because of a love so great God sacrificed his own child so that we might be forgiven. It’s that simple. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings April 16
I was in my shop doing a bit of electronics work the other day. I’m experimenting with some designs I picked up off the internet. The assembly of these circuits is something I’ve been doing on an off, for over 30 years. In fact, I’ve done it so long it’s just about second nature to me. So as I was thinking about the next part of the process, running through the individual steps in my mind, I started to reflect on what it takes to assemble a circuit board, and I came up with a few thoughts.
Modern electronic circuits start with a flat piece of plastic with one side covered by a layer of copper. This copper coating, which looks like a disjointed road map, forms the wiring for the circuit. The plastic board is the support mechanism. It has holes drilled in it to accommodate the wire leads from the individual components. These wire leads are then soldered to the copper coating, or trace to form an electrical and mechanical connection.
The wire leads serve to conduct electricity, thus making the component part of the circuit, and as a way to mount the thing. These are two of three major concerns for a circuit board. Each part needs a sound electric connection to the copper, and each must be mounted so as not to rattle about if the board is jostled. Loose electrical joints may cause the circuit to work intermittently, or not at all. Loose mechanical joints may cause the part to break its electrical connection, or fall off the circuit board. Again, not a desirable result.
The third concern also involves a connection, but a far more ethereal one. Every component in a circuit needs air around it to keep it from overheating. They can’t be too tightly spaced so as to block one another’s access to cool air flow, because heat is a killer for most components. In fact, some parts get into a vicious cycle when they overheat. Heat causes them to conduct more electricity, which in turn makes them heat up, the cycle ending only when the components either melt or catch fire. This is not desirable, so each part must be well connected to the board, the copper trace, and to a lot of air.
Hmm, three important connections. That’s like faith, isn’t it. We too need a solid mechanical connection to hold us together. That’s God. We also need to be connected “electrically,” that is, in a way that conducts power and information to us. That’s the Holy Spirit’s work. Finally, we need a connection with the great refreshing presence beyond us. That’s Jesus role.
God grounds us, giving us shape and purpose. The Spirit energizes us, giving us life, and letting us know God’s. Jesus heals us, and refreshes us so that sin can’t overwhelm us. Yet it is all one God, that binds us, empowers us, heals us. Like the various components joined together in an electronic device, we are not only connected to our creator, but through Him, we are connected together, as His church. There is, however, a big difference between us and a machine. Electronics do not know their maker. We do. Our connection works two ways. It allows us not only to love our Creator, but to know and feel His perfect love for us. And unlike those electronic devices that are obsolete almost the moment they’re designed, God’s love for us will never go out of style, and never, ever, leave us disconnected. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings April 9
Teamwork is a great thing. It spreads the load so that one person isn’t stuck doing all the work, it provides a social environment to help make long days seem shorter, and it brings together folks with different gifts, so that no one person need be a jack of all trades and master of none. The recent Sanctuary renovation project here at St. James was a great example of teamwork; a diverse group of folks came together to plan and execute the work, and the resulting job was not only done quickly and efficiently, but also with a lot of fun and a great amount of skill. Truly, the resulting handiwork is a blessing for the whole congregation.
A good team, however, is usually the result of a lot of time spent together. Think of your favourite sport’s organization, and all of the time spent in the off-season bringing together a group of individual athletes so that they can function as a single-mindedly effective body. Even my favourite auto-sport, Formula 1 racing, features well orchestrated and practiced teamwork. Those lighting quick pit-stops don’t happen just by the grace of God. They are the result of many hours of repetitious practice in order to get the driver and pit crew working together like a well oiled, perfectly adjusted machine.
Now, with a congregation that’s been around for over 40 years, you might expect that the team that reworked our Sanctuary was this kind of well-prepared team. With a flock of faithful folks that have lived and worshipped in the same place for that long, it would be a perfectly reasonable expectation, but in this case, it would be totally incorrect. Our brilliantly orchestrated, well-oiled and perfectly adjusted machine was built virtually in a few hours.
In fact, it was lead by just two folks, Ed and Doug, who agreed that neither wanted to be the leader, but each would defer to the other in their unique area of expertise. One felt confident he could chair the team meetings during the planning stage, and the other agreed to be the general contractor as long as he didn’t have to run any meetings. A tiny team was born, and soon it grew into a whole bunch of workers pulling together to plan, design and build a new stage area for St. James. And the team worked brilliantly from that point on.
What a blessing it when the work begin one Monday morning. Two men who had never worked together before formed a team, that inspired and led the other workers like they had been doing it together for years. The stage was built. Problems encountered were dealt with on the fly. Sawdust flew, screws were driven, waste tossed about, but tempers never flared, spirits never waned, and personalities never clashed. I was both pleased and impressed.
Of course, what would you expect when folks are in it not for their own glory, but for God’s. Those folks weren’t working for a reward or an ego boost, but to help make their church a more effective and inviting place to worship and serve God. That meant that the team was not limited to human members. Instead, it included God, the Holy Spirit, and Jesus Christ. Rather than working for its own purposes, the team worked out God’s plan, and God in turn honoured their work. I would even say that it was a teamwork miracle. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings April 2
It all depends on your point of view. Take bunny rabbits, for example. Some folks see them as cute cuddly pests. Some folks see them as despicable pests. I see them as a roast surrounded by new potatoes and baby carrots. Naturally, each perspective offers bunnies an entirely different fate, although it can be said that the pest and pot roast point of views fit together rather well.
Humans have basically two points of view about life. Some folks look at life as being just about humanity; we are the be all and end all of a chance induced evolutionary process. This perspective, if boiled down to it’s barest essentials, has us look at life as a struggle against everybody and everything else, as a fight for to be the best at the expense of all other participants.
The other point of view is that we aren’t part of a chance process; rather, we were deliberately created by some being that has more in mind for our fate than simply fighting with our neighbour. Taken to its highest point, this is a faith based perspective that looks at life as something to be shared, celebrated and devoted to the creator that made it all possible.
When you see things strictly from a win-lose, reward-punishment or profit-deficit perspective, as if life is at best some great competition at worse a war with your neighbour, you can only end up in the loss/punishment/deficit column. Beyond that, evolution says, there is nothing. The only thing our struggle accomplishes is creating a new generation of competitors. But why outdo your neighbour, if in the end, there’s no greater reason for going on?
On the other hand, to see life as if a god, especially the Christian god, is involved, lets that ‘me and me only’ point of view exmore sense of all creation, that forces us to realize that there is a bigger picture, and that it is not just about me or us or a few select souls. Certainly there does seem to be a selection process at God’s end. God wants people who really want Him. If He favours anybody it’s those who favour Him.
But that does not mean God is not interested in anybody else. God’s love for humanity is not restricted to a few chosen ones. God’s love causes His heart to break for the single mother who does not know His comfort. It breaks for the HIV infected child plagued by not knowing Him. So God reaches down to these lost and broken ones through those who love Him and are willing to share that love. He comforts the sick child through caregivers filled with His love and touches the lonely mother with agencies and volunteers motivated not by profit but by a desire to give everyone the best life possible.
Of course, if there is no God, such pain and misery don’t matter. They are someone else’s problem. But because suffering matters so much to so many people, how can there we doubt that we are God loved creatures and not products of evolution competing for our slice of the pie? Despite all that seems wrong with the world, when you look at it through eyes of faith, you realize how much is good with Creation, and that with God’s help, we can make things even better. It all depends on your point of view. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings, March 26
In the never ending struggle to maintain a viable private fish population, one must be willing to try new things, even if those things might prove to be risky. When one too many of my children’s denizens of the tank passed on to heaven’s great open waters, it was time to try something different. At least for my son, that is. My daughter was perfectly happy to have a normal goldfish fill in for her deceased favourite. David, on the other hand, wanted something unique, even if that something unique might attack it’s new tank-mates. Yep, we ended up getting a Beta, otherwise known as a Siamese fighting fish.
Siamese fighting fish are the pretty little things you see swimming alone in fancy bowls or glasses. Alone as in solitary confinement lest they start fighting with another Siamese fighting fish. Since they can’t live with each other, they generally have to be placed in isolation, and since they are extremely low maintenance, they tend to be more of a decorative item rather than a pet. But a pet is what David wanted, one that would round out our current population of fish without being yet another boring old Goldfish.
So it was that the store clerk warned us of potentially dire consequences. The Siamese fighting fish might pick a fight with any of it’s new tank-mates, even if they weren’t the same species. On the other hand, this inveterate war-fish might just establish it’s own territory without being challenged, and thus peace and harmony would ensue. In other words, it was a crap-shoot. We had no idea whether or not our experiment would create another player for the great toilet ride or introduce another pretty citizen to our 10 gallon biospace.
Some Siamese fighting fish. It couldn’t even be considered a Siamese slightly disagreeable fish. More of a, well, decoration. No fighting. No violence. Not even an slightly intolerant glance towards its neighbours. It was more of a “So, when do they serve lunch around here?” type of encounter between the Beta and the old inhabitants of the deep than a “Are you talking to me?” situation. Mind you, it’s not as if the fish actually thought like than. With brains little bigger than a mustard seed, I’m don’t place any great psychological stock in those fish. They were not being nice to one another. It was just that of their fighting instincts were triggered by their home or their neighbours.
We humans are little more complex, even if our instincts can get us into trouble. When we react without thinking we’re as dangerous as two Siamese fighting fish sharing the same bowl. But God gave us brains that should help us overcome our more basic traits. God gave us the wisdom to work out stressful situations, to talk things out and to think before we act. In Jesus Christ, God gave us the common ground upon which to build relationships and community with anyone that might step into our space.
Language might differ, but God’s living Word unites. Customs might differ, but Christ leads us to the same end. Race might differ, but as God’s children, we are all brothers and sisters. You never know with fish, especially Siamese fighting fish. But when it comes to humans, those who call God their Father and Jesus their brother have every reason to get along, and in their Father’s name, make their world a better place. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings, March 19
Chanteuse Jennifer Warnes once sang “There ain't no cure, There ain't no cure for love.” It’s a plaintive refrain that laments a relationship gone wrong and a feeling that just won’t go away. For Jennifer, and for Leonard Cohen, who wrote those soulful lyrics, love seems to be some kind of disease, an affliction that lingers on even after the source of one’s affection has long since disappeared.
We’ve all been in Jennifer’s shoes. We’ve all experienced some kind of love that carried on despite the collapse of the relationship. Having no head for logic, love keeps on tugging at the heartstrings, reminding us of what’s gone while doing little actually to aid the situation. But if love is a disease when relationships go awry, it is also a cure in many more cases.
Love is the only way hatred can be overcome. Love is the bond that unites a family even when it’s hard to be friends with your own parents. Love is the power that can bring together people with nothing in common whatsoever. Love is the underlying basis for the relationship between God the creator, and all creation.
Think about God’s persistence for a moment. Throughout history, God has remained true and faithful despite the heaps of abuse humanity has piled up against Him. Even though we are constantly demanding, our creator is constantly providing for us, feeding us and clothing us like a doting mother. And even when humanity rejected the very embodiment of God’s love, even when we crucified God’s son, the love never stopped coming.
Indeed, it was when humanity was at it’s lowest point, it was when ordinary folks took God’s ultimate love and nailed it to a cross, that love was at its most powerful point. God wasn’t surprised when the religious leaders plotted against Jesus, or when Judas betrayed him, or when Pilate washed his hands of him, or when the Roman soldiers laughed while Jesus fell under the weight of the cross. God knew the humiliation and the degradation were coming. He knew that Jesus would be whipped and insulted and abused. He knew there would be no last minute rescue squad, no band of adventurous disciples parachuting in and saving their beleaguered leader from His fate.
God knew what would happen to His son, knew the sacrifice Jesus would have to make, because Jesus’ love-borne action was and is the only cure for our human brokenness. There may be no cure for love, but God knows that love can, and has and will continue to cure our greatest disease, the soul destroying ailment that is otherwise known as sin.
Some lyricists have wondered why fools fall in love. Some have said that love stinks, others have called it a battleground, and Leonard Cohen implied it is a disease for which there is no remedy. Maybe it’s true; it may well be that there ain't no cure for love, but that’s OK. When it comes to God’s love, I’ll joyfully get sick, and happily infect as many people as I can. Why, I’ll even encourage them to spread the illness. After all, love is only cure for sin, the best way to deal with others, and the only way back to God. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings, March 12
I am a sinner. The truth is out; I have broken God’s commandments (although you might be comforted to know, not all of them…) and despite my earnest desire and greatest efforts, will continue to do so for as long as I live. Now, you’re probably wondering what a nice, decent Pastor like myself could possibly get up to, and I assure you, that it’s quite likely the same sort of things that any other normal red-blooded Canadian might accomplish, save for committing two or three of the more egregious sins listed in God’s laws. My latest and greatest folly? Well, the one that sticks out in my mind was what might be best described as “ball-icide”. Yes friends, I murdered a perfectly innocent tennis ball. Ran over it with my car before I realized what I had done. Thought it was a paper cup and didn’t bother swerving to avoid it.
And then I compounded my sin. Didn’t stop, didn’t look back, just kept driving along, feeling quite the worse for my mistake, especially given the fact that I had no fewer than two witnesses to my crime. One witness was in the car. He saw the ball, knew what it was, and felt it squish under the tires along with me. The other witness was the poor owner of the unintended victim. Yes, an innocent young man playing street hockey bore witness to the full horror of a tennis ball flattened into a useless bit of fluff and rubber.
I don’t know who the young hockey player was, but I would like to apologize to him anyway. I don’t know that I can make it up to him directly, but hopefully a little extra kindness and care extended in atonement will suffice. I’m not sure that I can help him forget what he saw or that I can help him not think too badly of Honda Civic drivers, but I hope that a little more care and diligence on my part will avoid my ever creating such a scenario for other folks.
Like I said, I’m a sinner. Probably not as outright bad as some, maybe a touch better than a few, but sin is sin, and I can’t do much about it, other than face up to the truth and take responsibility for my actions. Mind you, I do try to make it a little easier on myself by not running out and cheerfully breaking all of God’s commandments. And I don’t willfully break the other ones. But still, accidents happen, so, yes I will continue to be a sinner for the rest of my life.
Of course, grace happens too, and that, unlike a human life, extends for eternity. God’s mercy and forgiveness know no bounds, either within time or within human sinfulness. Christ paid a price far higher than what any human could ever run up in God’s accounting books. Mind you, these gifts are not a license for me to go out a run over tennis balls willy-nilly, but they are a source of comfort when I do. God’s grace helps me get over my sin and move along. His forgiveness assures me that I can look Him in the face when the time comes. Jesus helps me find things to do to help, rather than hurt, others.
I am a sinner. So are you. Yet we’re also God’s children, new creations in Christ that are more than simple human beings. We are products of love set on earth to glorify our creator. And God loves us so much that he won’t let sin separate us from him, in this life or the next. All it takes is admitting to him what we’ve done, and choosing to follow Jesus above all else in the world. Sin or Son? The choice seems obvious. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings, March 5
You’ve probably had this happen to you before: you park the car close enough to the curb that when you open the door, it’s blocked by whatever lies on the other side. Not by much mind you: just enough to get the corner of the door caught so that you have to squiggle in order to leave your vehicle successfully. Then, with your weight no longer in the car, the springs lift it up just enough so that the door now swings open freely. Of course this means that when you get back to the car, the door opens, the springs settle under your weight and the door no longer closes because it’s caught in the grass…
A car’s suspension system is in a state of delicate balance, the springs holding the car up firmly enough not to sag right to the ground when you step inside, yet not so much that the wheels can’t move up and down depending on the bumps and potholes in the road. There are, however, limits to a car suspension’s balancing act. It can only react within certain limits, causing the car to shake and shudder over bumpy country roads. When the potholes are too deep or too steep, the car seems to fall before the tire and springs can soften the blow. If the road rises too quickly and the car is going fast enough, it will rise up only to the limits of the suspension, leaving the occupants to continue upward in a momentary state of weightlessness. Whee!!!
All this happens because the springs in a car are in a constant state of tension. They are somewhere in between being totally squeezed down and fully loose. There is room for them to be compressed a bit when we step in the car, and room for them to stretch when a tire finds a depression in the road. Thus loaded, a car’s suspension offers the safe, comfortable ride we’ve come to expect in modern vehicles.
Our lives are somewhat like a car’s springs. Our emotions are usually in a state of careful balance, a place where we have room to move up or down as the need arises. Just as different types of cars have firmer or softer rides, some folks are stiff and hard to move, more like a truck than a car, while others are soft, pliable and easily moved. And, like a car’s springs, there are limits to how much we move before things get out of control or break down.
There is, however, one crucial difference between a car suspension and our emotions. When springs hits their limit, that’s it. They either stop working, or if the strain is too much, they break. People, on the other hand, are much more resilient, especially people of faith. When you believe in God, when you trust Him and lean on him, our highs and lows are much more manageable. Should we go beyond our limits, God is there, helping to cushion the blow should we fall, bringing us down to earth when pride or anger lift us beyond safe levels.
Most importantly, God provides us with communities to help one another, to cushion each other along the bumpy roads, to share the joy when the path is smooth. That community also helps us out when we’re stuck too close to the curb emotionally. It takes the strain so that we can forge ahead, releases us from hopeless despair, helps us move into a better place so that we can continue along in our journey with a song in our hearts, and (pun fully intended) a spring in our step. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings, February 26
We human beings love stability, don’t we? While it’s nice to have the odd surprise come your way, say an unexpected visit for a friend or winning free pizza for life, for the most part we like our lives to be a matter of regular, predictable routine. Perhaps it’s because when things follow a set, enjoyable pattern we feel that we’re in control, that we have some modicum of power over our fate. Maybe it’s the comfort of knowing that life will continue on pretty much the way we like it. Or maybe it just means not having to worry about that most dreaded of words, change. Yet there are times when it’s more satisfying to be uncertain than there is in being absolutely sure about what will happen next. Sometimes, the same old thing is not at all satisfactory.
A friend of mine is in the midst of change at her work. Over the past few years she has managed to help her employer deal with some rather sticky business, a job that’s exactly what she does best. Now, as things are stabilizing at work, she has been feeling increasingly ill at ease, which is exactly the opposite of what you might expect from one of us routine loving humans. After all, things should be getting easier for her with less upheaval from her employer. But at the same time, she’s feeling instability within herself, a sense of questioning and doubt that have caused her to do some serious thinking and praying.
Within this time of personal reflection my friend has found that it’s best for her not to stay with her current boss. It’s time to throw stability to the wind and seek new opportunities elsewhere. Predictability? Out the window. Routine? Down the drain. Security? Shattered into a million pieces. But in the same breath there is something else. Joy? Overflowing. Calm? Like a great, placid, glass smooth sea. No, she does not have the comfort of having another job to go to. But she knows that her decision is right, that it was made in accordance with God, and that He will provide for her all the stability she needs while her own personal routine undergoes a major overhaul.
You see, my friend knows that a good life, a happy and satisfying life does not depend on routine. Being comfortable in our lives is not always a sign of being happy. She knows that sometimes having things go too smoothly and easily can mask an underlying discomfort because we’ve become so accustomed to it that it has become our new reality. When she realized that she was comfortable without really being satisfied, she concluded that she had to break out of her routine in order to find her true joy.
And that’s where she has now found happiness. Her unstable work situation means that she has exchanged earthly comfort for heavenly reassurance that God has something new and exciting in store for her, even if she doesn’t know what exactly that’s all about. Comfort and joy are like that sometimes. Let me revise that. Comfort and joy are like that all the time. Our true happiness comes not from predictable routine, but from routinely being in tune with God. True satisfaction is not a result of having a stable life, but from having a stable relationship with our heavenly Father. Oh, sure, it would be great to know that there’s always a pizza in the oven once a week, but it’s even better to know God’s spiritually nourishment every moment of our lives. At least that’s the
way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings, February 19
Despite being a rather \high-tech kind of guy, one of my favourite things is our household Coo-Coo clock. A real, honest-to-goodness Black Forest product, it’s regular, rhythmic ticking and tocking is a constant source of, strangely enough, comfort and joy. Comfort and joy from the tick-tock of a Coo-Coo clock? Yes, friends, comfort and joy. While there isn’t enough time, space (or money to pay for the necessary psychiatrists) in order to explain all the deep seated psychological reasons for this curious set of emotions, I can say this much. The comfort factor is simply one of having grown up noisy mechanical clocks. The noise takes me back to the many happy times I went to Italy, a place of both many fond memories and ticking, tocking clocks of all kinds.
The other source of comfort and joy is a little harder to explain, but not all that unreasonable when you think about it. In our world, there are many forces acting upon us. Gravity, sun, the weight of air pressure all shape and define how we live and what we do. As natural forces, totally beyond our control, they are to me something I trust without question. I know that they will always be there, and even though gravity seems to be and increasingly challenging force on my knees, I know that I can trust it without question.
That’s why I like our Coo-Coo clock so much. It uses gravity to drive it day in and day out. As long as I do my bit to raise they weights on a regular baisis, gravity will do it’s part to use them to drive the clock mechanism. I have a deal with gravity. A deal that I know will be fulfilled as long as I keep up my end of the bargain. A deal that doesn’t require me to buy batteries or fuel or anything else to sustain it. As long as both I and gravity works, I know that our Coo-coo clock will keep running.
Think about it for a minute. Virtually every machine we operate nowadays requires some kind of external energy source. We have gas stoves, electric clocks, battery eating CD players, propane barbecues and gasoline driven cars. Run out of gas, lose your hydro power or exhaust a battery, and our appliance dies. Computers become boat anchors, cars become small apartments and portable CD players become hockey pucks. My Coo-Coo clock, on the other hand, is as reliable as ever, so long as gravity holds out and someone is there to wind it up.
That’s why faith in is such also such a source of comfort and joy to me. Like air gravity, the sun, God is always there. He is a constant, reliable and accessible force to all of us. There is no waiting for Him to recharge, no expense in filling up with His spirit, no chance of exhausting His love. Human driven, New Age beliefs depend too much on their practitioners. They need constant feeding by humans to keep them going. But because God believed in us first, there is no chance of us ever being abandoned by him. God will always find a way to get us back. He will always send someone to bring us home. He will always be poking and prodding at our hearts, a constant reminder that without Him, we are incomplete. Constants like gravity, the sun, and air act on us silently, shaping and defining us. But only God, the force behind all other forces, gives us meaning, purpose, comfort and joy, both now and forever. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings, February 12
Once again technology has tried to get the better of me, and once again, with a little help from my friends, I was able to overcome this latest onslaught on my sanity. Having recently upgraded my computer to be the latest, strongest, fastest machine I could afford, I managed to go just a bit too far. My poor scanner, the device used to convert photographs or documents into data the computer can use, was not able to come along for the ride. The new software that came with the upgrade refused to recognize my old scanning friend. Like a teenager believing it’s parents were too old to know anything useful, the modern program considered the scanners language was too ancient to be useful.
Being in the position of having younger people look at me as if they were the only ones in the world who know anything, I was not surprised. I was warned in various magazines and journals that this might happen. Old hardware might not work with new software. But sometimes old age and cunning can outsmart even the youngest and smartest mind, so I held my breath, refused to be defeated, and after a due pause to let my blood pressure settle (after all, just because I knew it might happen, it didn’t mean I would accept it easily…) and got to work.
Actually, I let the technology get to work. The Internet offers we mortals a very powerful ability to access the most obscure and remote sources of information anybody might care to publish. My first thought was to go to the manufacturer’s website to see if they could help. Not surprisingly, it turned out they were more than willing to help. All I had to do was buy the newest, latest scanner they sold, and my compatibility issues would be solved. My response, as you might expect, was to offer them the kindest and most polite “FAT CHANCE, BUDDY” I could muster, and to change my approach. If the big guns couldn’t ehlp maybe someone else could, so I simply typed in the brand and model of my scanner, and let the internet do some serious searching.
Within minutes, I found the software I needed. It was, as I expected, on an obscure site that had not qualms about using old equipment with new software. My scanner is now up and running, back as good as it ever was, and my new software is none the wiser as to it’s antiquity. Like I said, old age and cunning can often outwit the young and supposedly smart. More importantly, at times we have to look beyond perceived limits in order to see something’s true possibility.
That’s how God looks at us. In God’s eyes, we’re all useful, lovable, saveable. The worse sinner is as lovable as the purest baby. The ugliest mistakes are as forgivable as the prettiest successes. A disabled child is as useful as the most able-bodied adult. No matter what others might say, God sets no age limits, no minimum intelligence quotients, no barriers to separate us from His love.
Of course, we have to willingly seek God. The sinner has to willingly repent. The fool has to willingly learn from God. The disabled need to willingly let God look beyond the limits others might impose on them. Imagine that. No matter what others might think, God knows we’re good enough. And there’s more! Thanks to Jesus, when we give ourselves to God, we are upgraded automatically! Thanks to Jesus help, anyone who gives themselves to God becomes one of God’s children. No exclusions, no exceptions, in God’s eyes, we’re all good enough to be claimed as His children if we just ask Him. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings, February 5
Clarity is very important. You have to be very careful to say what you mean if you want to be understood. This point was brought home to me quite, um, clearly, with some of the feedback from last week’s musings. Those musings, you may recall, dealt with finding a solution to a problem, a solution that was both reasonably priced and effective. In describing the search for the solution, I said one person’s suggestions were not affordable, and that we eventually found a fix that was quite within St. James’ price range.
What I did not make clear was who eventually fixed the problem (me) and the fact that at no time did I ever think anyone was trying to take advantage of the church. The issue was one of knowledge and expertise. The professional we were dealing with had no intention of ripping us off. Given his particular point of view, what he suggested was not at all unreasonable. Expensive, yes, but not unfair. He did, however, point us in the right direction, one that suited my unique set of skills, which in turn led to a cheaper way to fix the problem.
I just wanted to make that clear, because I realized that I might have unduly sullied this person’s reputation. Many people wanted to know who it was, but that’s not important. I would gladly deal with him again within his particular field. Of course, being clear about an issue isn’t always easy. Sometimes we assume things about each other that aren’t necessarily true. Last week, I assumed that because I did not use words like rip-off, cheating or anything like that, you would understand that it was simply a matter of needing the right information. However, some of the questions and comments I received led me to believe that it was an incorrect assumption.
Making assumptions is closely related to another cause of confusion. Clarity can be lost simply by offering too little information. Too little information can omit out key information, leaving others to guess what’s actually being said. On the other hand, too much information can confuse an issue beyond any hope of understanding it. Then there is the pure and simple case of giving just the right amount of information, but doing so in a way that is either confusing, or that makes no point whatsoever.
Clarity, as desirable as it is, often remains nothing more than an idle fantasy. God, on the other hand, is not so hard to understand. It’s pretty clear that He loves us and wants the best for us. Just think about Jesus and His sacrifice and you’ll realize how much we are loved. However, since we don’t always make ourselves clear, and we don’t always understand things, we often make a very unclear case for God. We make assumptions that leave people wondering what we’re talking about. We leave out information that is vital for clarity. We give too much information and confuse others about God.
However, with a little care, with a better understanding of God’s word, with a little less “me, me, me” and a lot more Jesus, we could make a very clear case for our Creator. After all, Jesus was as human as the rest of us, and He made God’s love perfectly clear. God’s love, revealed in human form, but not just in His son. With a little help from Jesus, God’s love can be made perfectly clear in you and in me, too. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings January 29
There was a problem in the church. Not a problem of theology requiring great minds; not a problem of personalities requiring Christ-like forgiveness; not a problem of ministry requiring God’s intervention. It was a small technical matter that was more of a nuisance than a major concern, but still needed to be dealt with. The problem was with our organ. Certain notes were not playing loudly enough, causing the music to be less than what we knew was possible.
Like I said, it was a problem, but not an earth shattering one. As you might expect, we wanted it fixed, and had the issue duly investigated. Let me emphasize one more time that this was not a huge matter. If you find me repeating myself, it’s because the price of fixing the problem turned out to be quite monstrous. In the thousands, we were quoted. Needed a whole new bit of technology, custom built, and that would cost three-thousand dollars. Gulp.
The cost seemed way out of proportion to the problem, so we investigated some other avenues. One solution was to change the one broken part and do some other work, which would set us back thirteen hundred dollars. This was still pretty high, so we gave it some careful thought and found out that the broken part could be repaired for less than fifty dollars. Not three thousand or thirteen hundred dollars. Fifty. Small problem, small outlay. Now we have a fine sounding organ with lots of bass thump, much to the satisfaction of all. Well, OK, now we the new problem, of having some of the surfaces in the church vibrate like crazy, but those we can deal with for free.
This whole affair could have been very expensive. Had we jumped on the first estimate without thinking things through, we would now be looking at a solution that in many ways would have been effective, expensive, and totally inadequate. The issue wasn’t fixing an old issue with new technology. The issue was figuring out exactly what the problem was, and deal;ing with that issue alone. It was also a matter of seeking more than one opinion on the problem. With a second opinion, we determined a quick, simple and totally appropriate repair. All it took was a bit of careful analysis, and an open mind.
Sometimes in life we tend to overcomplicate matters. Or else we look for solutions that look great, but don’t really deal with the issue. Most of our concerns boil down to a broken relationship with God, another human, or ourselves. When we get our priorities wrong, when we stray from God’s rules, things get out of hand very quickly. If we’re smart, we quickly get back to God and His rules to get back on track. But all too often we go for other ways to deal with our problems, and wander far of track and into more trouble.
Like the original fix offered for the organ, we can easily look in the wrong direction. Or we cam miss the truth in favour of what’s popular or easy. With that in mind, I suggest that next time life gets out of hand, you turn to God before doing anything else. Invite Him to help you out. Lean on Him when you can’t stand on your own. It’s not hard, it’s pretty cheap, and for most human problems, its usually the best way to go. Mind you, it might not be the total solution, but at least you’ve got God on your side, and that isn’t a bad way to deal with the challenges life offers. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings January 22
"If you're going to do something, do it right the first time." These are the oft quoted words of popular TV and contractor Mike Holmes. Mike is a talented, uncompromising sort of guy, who has nothing good to say about the shoddy workmanship he sees in the many homes he is asked to fix. And watching his program, it’s not hard to understand why he gets so upset. He’s dealt with everything from room additions that have not been properly anchored to the original home to floors so out of level they can be used for ski runs.
Of course, while you can sympathize with Mr. Holmes and the homeowners he helps, most do-it-yourselfers can also sympathize with the folks who don’t always get the job done right the first time. While Mike often deals with outright deception and dishonesty in the contractors that have created the need for his services, sometime it’s hapless homeowners who have unwittingly strayed too far out of their comfort and talent zones to get things right any time, let alone the first time.
Try as we might, do-it-yourselfers and professionals alike don’t always get things right. Sometimes there’s not enough money to or time. Sometimes it’s a lack of experience. Sometimes there is no explanation for what goes wrong. And sometimes you don’t even realize your mistakes until someone with like Mike Holmes, steps in an points out where you’ve hit the nail on the head, and where you’ve missed the mark completely.
Thankfully, there are people like Mr. Holmes who not only can fix shoddy workmanship, but are also willing to speak out against the folks that deliberately cut corners and deceive their customers. By doing so, he in helping to raise the standards in the home-building industry as well as helping the rest of us understand what good work should look like. He also helps the do-it-yourselfer better understand what it takes to do a job well done, so they can better determine whether it’s a do-it-yourself job. or if they need professional help to get the job done right the first time.
Now, some folks might wonder: If only we could call in a professional to set us straight right from the very first moment of our earthly existence. If only God could offer us a spiritual Mike Holmes to fix the bits of our lives where we’ve cobbled things together as best as we could. But I don’t think it would make that much of a difference for anybody. Sure, there are places where we could all us improvement. Most of us could use a pretty big clean up. We probably have weak-spots that need to be shored up. After all, it is very difficult to “do it right the first time” when you start out as a little baby.
While it’s nice to get things done right the first time, as far as our lives are concerned, it doesn’t. Even all we offer God is a cobbled-together life that would make Mike Holmes shudder (if he did spiritual renovations), it’s OK. God, in His grace and mercy, will make up for our imperfection. All we have to do is ask for forgiveness, and He’ll set things right. And he won’t just do it the first time, but as often as we need it. So while we’d like to life right the first time, there no need to worry. God’s forgiveness ensures us that even the wrongest life can be made right. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings January 15
The leader of one of the American precision flying teams was once asked where his men were to take their lead during their demonstrations. Where should theses followers be looking, the interviewer wanted to know. The pilot’s response went something like this: “I want my men to have their eyes on me at all times. If I crash, want to see five holes around me afterwards.”
When the Thunderbirds, Blue Angels or our Canadian Snowbirds perform their aerial shows, they must fly almost impossibly close together. But the only way to do that is if they focus on their leader. Without that focus, their missions would be sloppy, if not deadly. As a leader, I often feel that same kind of pressure. I want the congregation to be in tight formation around me as I serve God, so that together we can accomplish far more than what just one person might do. But such leadership has its risks, as was humourously described the American pilot I quoted roughly earlier. When things are going well, when leader and congregation are going the right way, good things happen. But should the leader make a mistake, everybody crashed.
This past Sunday morning, everybody crashed. I was in the midst of the Lord’s prayer, a prayer that is firmly and indelibly engraved somewhere in my vocal memory. Mind you, my version of the prayer uses trespassers rather than the debts my current congregation is familiar with. Never mind, the prayer is written in bold print on a laminated sheet taped to the pulpit.
When I lead the Lord’s prayer, I’m conscious of not letting it become something that sounds like it’s been repeated a million times before. Every Sunday I enunciate the words carefully; I try to vary the rhythm a bit to make it sing in slightly different ways; I emphasize different words or phrases in order to highlight the many facets of the prayer. And I always, always, use the little laminated script taped to the pulpit. Well, almost always. This past Sunday, caught up in the moment, careful to lead my flock in a meaningful recital of the prayer, I switched to autopilot as I tried lead the congregation in this weeks sharing of Jesus’ words. Of course, that led me back to my childhood version of the prayer, trespasses and all.
After the inevitable crash I looked around me and saw a hundred or so holes around me. The congregation had dutifully followed me when I blew it. We never did finish the Lord’s Prayer that day. But I was able to recover and lead the congregation successfully the rest of the way. Mind you, my ego received a fairly severe bruising, but my ministry survived. If nothing else, I was reminded of my great responsibility when leading others in worship. And, I was reminded that God’s can use us despite our various errors.
As we work out God’s plan, there will be times when we get it wrong. Our egos, poor preparation or lack of focus can lead us far, far astray. That’s the risk of trying to fly in close formation or trying our best to serve God. I can’t promise perfect leadership, but I can promise that without doing anything, I can lead others to perfect failure. Sure, I’d love to never, ever crash, but I’d rather fail while trying to serve God than succeed at doing nothing. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings January 8
Did you ever realize that we human beings are natural code-writers? Examine virtually any endeavour undertaken by we earth-bound creatures and there you will find some secret mystery language, some carefully devised way to pass information specific to that enterprise. Not devised to confuse or hide, these codes are, instead, created as a way to get ideas across more quickly or efficiently, a short-hand that lets one person know what’s going in with the least amount of energy and ink.
Sometimes a code is devised not just to make things easier, but out of necessity. Take the field of electronics, for instance. If this is your hobby, one of the first things you learn is how to read a resistor. Resistors are small components, roughly a centimetre long and about a third of a centimetre in diameter. Trouble is, they come in different values, and it’s very hard to write legible numbers on a component that small. The solution to this dilemma is a code based on colours. 4 coloured stripes are drawn around the resistor, and if you know what they mean, then you know only the value of the part.
At a more basic level, the markings on a clock, like those on a resistor, is a simple code that was devised for the sake of convenience. It’s actually quite brilliant, when you think about it. Rather than express the hours, minutes and seconds using unique displays, a clock gives you the information with just one set of numbers and three arms of different lengths. But to extract this information from the clock, you have to know the code. You have to know which arm indicates what, and more importantly, you have to realize that the numbers represent three different values, depending on which arm you’re reading. Without that knowledge, a clock is no more than a very slow device for spinning wheels and arms to know particular end.
Whenever we talk about our faith, we also talk in code. We use terms that are specific to Christianity, and in some cases, specific to a particular branch of Christianity. For folks well-versed in the system these ciphers are as easily understood as the resistor colour-code is to the electrician. We understand each other as readily as the trained clock user can tell the time. The risk of such coded language is that it excludes those outside of faith. To talk about salvation to the unsaved is like talking electronics to a doctor or having a child raised in the digital age read an old fashioned roman numeral clock. With no understanding of the code, others can have no grasp of the meaning we’re trying to impart, and in effect we’re just spinning our wheels.
Fortunately, God’s message isn’t that hard. It’s a message of love for a world that needs tender loving care. It’s a message of hope for those who see a dark tunnel with no light at the end. It’s a message of new beginnings for those who lost on dead-end paths; it’s a message that should be free of church gobbledy-gook, spoken in ways that are easily understood. It might be with a few well-chosen words; it could be with a well-planned good deed; it might be a matter of a well-timed hug. How we share God’s message doesn’t really matter. No clever decoding is needed. As long as we speak God’s love clearly, others will understand. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Minister’s Musings January 1
Lately, I’ve been thinking about one of the most popular phrases being used these days. Folks loving saying “Good job” to one another. You hear it from coaches praising their athletes even after losing a game. You hear it from moms potty training their children. You even hear it (in a baby-like voice) from pet owners who believe both that their animals understand garbled English, and that they can return the High-five they’ve just been handed.
Personally, the phrase has become so over-used as to be meaningless. Sure, it’s I say it to my kids for getting good report cards, but I don’t use it to praise our pet cat for ungratefully gobbling down her dinner. Yet such is the world that folks are say it both to the pizza delivery girl and to the doorbell that just announced her arrival. Still, as over-used as “Good-job” may be, it’s better than nothing. Sure, it might be a little lazy, and we might show a little more imagination in offering praise, it will have to do. Given a world where such niceties are often overlooked, I suppose it’s good enough.
Pondering this situation led me to wonder: Is “good enough” good enough to get a “Good Job! from God? Will God accept our best efforts even when those efforts aren’t very good compared to your neighbour’s best? Is it OK to be merely adequate and not absolutely perfect before our supreme and supremely perfect Creator? And after some due consideration, I thought: “Why not?” Why shouldn’t our best be good enough? To be created in God’s image did not automatically endow us with all of God’s perfect wisdom and talent. All it means is that we bear some resemblance to our creator.
Perfection is not needed from us, and from my experience, not possible, either. We’re simply not equipped that way. We are, however, equipped to do our best and to enjoy those efforts. God made us so that even though we’re aware of our shortcomings, we are able to accept the fact that our waistlines aren’t always going to be fashion model sized, that our songs will occasionally be out of tune, and that every once in while we appear in public ignorant of the mustard stain on our collar.
That’s what our sense of humour is all about. Laughing at ourselves or with others helps us deal with not being perfect; Humility tells us that it’s not at all important for us to be as good as everybody else; and God’s love assures us that in His eyes, it’s not the end result that matters, as much as it is what moves us to act. If all our efforts are simply to keep us on God’s good side or for personal gain, even perfection would not suffice.
Only when we act selflessly, or for the good of a neighbour, or because we want to give something nice to God, however imperfect our offering may be, our action is accepted as if it’s the greatest, most perfect treasure anywhere. After all, it’s not our best efforts lie, but our hearts and souls that God prizes the most. And that just may be were we humans can reach perfection. All it takes is for us to give our heart and soul to God in all we do, say and are to make know His perfect love in return. At least that’s the way I see it.
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