December 30
I always thought one toasted bread to make easier for the subsequent spreading of butter. I believed that the hardening of the slice offered a more stable spreading surface, while the accompanying heating enabled the melting of the said milk by-product so that it would form a more permanent and delicious bond with it’s bready partner.
Apparently I was wrong. The reason bread is toasted is to make it sweeter. That is, in the ideal toasting of bread slices, the top surface is heated to the point where the starch, the main chemical component of bread, is converted into sugar. This process is called caramelization, and is the primary reason for sliding our slices into that mechanical marvel known as the toaster. The previously mentioned assumptions regarding the stiffening and heating of the butter-receiving surface are simply happy by products of the sweetening process.
This caramelization takes place a lot in cooking. While toast is a rather subtle example, a much more extreme sample comes in the frying of onions. Onions, normally pungent enough to induce tears in even the most manly man, become deliciously sweet when fried until golden brown. The starch that makes them stiff and crunchy when raw again breaks down to form the lovely golden sugar that colours and favourably flavours those round, multi-layered objects.
That’s quite a conversion, for both toast and onion. From slightly salty to subtly sweet, from tart and tear-inducing to sublimely sugary, each food item finds a whole new life when carefully and judiciously prepared with fire. We humans also undergo an amazing transformation, but not with cooking. While it feels that we’re tempered with flame and heat at times, the actual change comes when God works on us. Like the tangiest of onions, we go from being sin-soured to salvation sweet when God’s forgiveness cleans us up. Like the subtle change that takes place on the surface of bread, when God’s Holy Spirit guides us we go from being somewhat smart in the ways of the world to being truly wise in the ways of our creator.
It’s a miraculous transformation indeed, but it’s not one that’s always obvious. That’s because we’re not really changing into something new. God made us perfect to start with. That’s why we’re said to be created in His image. But even in our perfect Godly image, there are ways we become distorted and imperfect, the result of sin and evil tarnishing our appearance. So when God changes us, it’s not into something new, but into a more perfect version of ourselves. However, unlike bread or onions, which once changed are rendered permanently inalterable from their newly sweet state, we humans go back and forth between holy and unholy states.
Thankfully, God keeps working on us, whenever we open our hearts to him. When we open the door, Jesus enters our lives and helps change for the better. When we open our hearts and minds, the Holy Spirit comes in and makes the necessary adjustment to our wisdom and attitude. One day, we’re promised, the change will be dramatic and permanent and we will know full and absolute perfection. But for now, I’m happy to know that God will change us from sin-sour to salvation sweet whenever we need it. At least that’s the way I see it.
December 23
The are things we cannot explain. There are things we do not understand. There are even things we refuse to accept, even if we can both explain and understand them. Science, religion and human imagination are three ways we try to get a grasp of things. They explain the inexplicable with varied degrees of success, a success that sometimes depends on ones’ ability and willingness to believe almost as much as the reasonability of the explanation itself.
Take luck, for example. Science sneers at luck. Good Presbyterians run away from it. But most humans, scientists, Presbyterian or other, tend to use it as a catchall when there’s no other obvious answer to a happy occurrence. Take a purchase I made the other day. I was at our local Value Village, (a place where folks bring in their used treasures to share with others) looking for a used car stereo for my shop, and lo and behold, I found the perfect one. Actually, it was better than perfect, because this one even had a CD player. It was a stroke of great shopping, because it was the first time I’d ever come across one in such a place.
Now, when you buy something used from a place that accepts treasures from just about anyone, you do so with bated breath and high hopes. Thankfully, my hopes were not dashed, as the unit worked just like it was brand new. OK, I pretty much expected that. Usually folks are pretty good about what they donate to thrift shops like Value Village, and I’ve never had a bad experience with mechanical treasures. But this one was particularly special because it not only worked, it also contained an immaculate CD that, by some amazing coincidence, is exactly the one my son will be getting me for Christmas. (He’s a smart boy, who talks things over before venturing into the very personal, and between us very diverse, world of musical tastes.)
Luck? Good fortune? Were the stars smiling down upon me? Was it a sign from heaven? Was God in a particularly jocular mood? No, no, no, no and maybe. Luck or good fortune implies leaving control to some force beyond God and God-ordained science, and that doesn’t wash with Christianity. As to the Stars showing favour, that’s even worse than luck, because it implies a sentient force beyond God, and that’s just not possible. Was it a sign? It might be, but what having two copies of the Rush “Farewell to kings” means is beyond my understanding. Was God playing a bit of a joke on me? Well, I know our creator has a sense of humour, so maybe He and the angels are having a giggle, which is fine by me, but again, that’s really way beyond my understanding, and not something I really need to know.
I would love to explain why this happened, but I simply can’t. It just did happen, so I’m going to accept it, give thanks that it was a good experience, and leave the big thoughts to God. Sure, it would be nice to know why and how everything happens, but I don’t know that it would make life any better for anyone. Instead, we have to work within the framework of what we know, and trust God for the rest. Of course, the more we know about God and the closer we follow God, the better life is. It won’t be free from pain or so-called misfortune, but by knowing God’s love, and loving others as we know He loves us, we are fully equipped to deal with whatever comes our way, whether or not we understand it. At least that’s the way I see it.
December 16
It’s always amazing to me what different gifts people share. Me, I’m somewhat of an observer of things while driving. Because I’ve been trained to look around everywhere, I tend to notice things, especially things like Hawks, well before anyone else in the car does. It’s not a great skill, mind you, but it’s something that seems to come fairly naturally to me. My wife, Lois, on the other hand, is an amazing proofreader. All she has to do is to look at a piece of text, and she can tell you every spelling, grammar and typesetting boo-boo on the page. Give her a chance to actually read the article in question, and then she’ll give you a quick and thorough analysis of its flow, logic and general readability. That’s a pretty useful gift, and one which always leaves me standing in awe. Unless, of course, she’s reading something I’ve written. Then I’m just left embarrassed.
My church secretary, Janet, shares the same gift as Lois. She too can identify all my typos and grammar goofs at the drop of a hat. Again, it’s usually much to my embarrassment, especially since she doesn’t believe in my excuse that I’m simply trying to create my own language. Apparently Janet thinks that I should use the same English everybody else does, which probably helps all you readers out there, but does little to nurture the inner linguist in me. But I digress; the point is that we have our own special areas of observation, things or ideas that really hit home with us.
It might have to do with our personal interest and abilities. Take Janet and Lois’ proofreading skills. Both ladies are very meticulous and precise, exactly the skill you need to identify where a text is riding off the rails. That’s not necessarily my skill. Instead, I’m a very image oriented person, which is why I can pick out a Hawk from most any other bird. I like Hawks, I love to see them soaring in the sky, and so I’m predisposed to picking them out while driving along. Other folks have other skills and abilities of observation, which brings me back to my initial thought: It’s always amazing what different gifts people share.
It’s amazing because these gifts reflect God’s gifts in our own limited way. This makes me think that God must be a pretty good observer of different things. After all, our heavenly creator is all seeing and all knowing, a thought which is both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Sure, it’s almost unbelievable that God should be able to see everything that’s going on throughout creation, but it’s very frightening to think that He can see everything going on in our personal lives. Terrifying, but also incredibly inspiring, too.
It’s terrifying to think God sees our every mistake, but it’s also inspiring to realize that despite our many personal foul-ups, God still loves us. Isn’t that amazing? Even though God observes everything we do, both right and wrong, He still keeps on loving us and providing for us and caring for us. What an incredible gift that is. Like a talented proofreader, God sees the typos and grammar errors in our lives, but rather than toss us out like a crumpled manuscript, He tidies us up and sends us on our way. Through Jesus, God gives us the chance to correct what he observes as wrong in our lives, as well as encouraging us whenever our acts bear a distinctly Christ-like imprint. That, friends, is an amazing gift. At least that’s the way I see it.
December 9
I grew up with things called ‘Records’ Records had a very special place in my heart, and the hearts of anyone who loved music, because they brought music home. Yes folks, I’m talking about big plastic disks that once were the only way to play the music you wanted when you wanted it.
Those plastic things were very simple in principle. Take a noise, pass it through a needle so it would scratch a ‘Record’ of itself, and then make as many copies of that master recording as you needed. Then as long as you took pretty good care of that wonderful disc, (and you had an appropriate player) you could listen to music any time you wanted to. It wasn’t too portable, it wasn’t always perfect (especially if you let it get dusty or were heavy handed with the tone-arm) but it was good enough for everybody. In fact, once your favourite tune started you swinging along, it didn’t matter how scratchy the sound was; it was good enough to make you happy.
Mind you, the disk itself was probably not as pleased. After all, a perfectly innocent piece of shiny smooth plastic had been permanently scarred with your much beloved tunes. No turning back, no chance for a do-over, records were permanent storehouses for whatever was scratched onto them at the factory. Well, OK, semi-permanent, because the careless owner could add their own scratches, although they never were as nice and pleasant to hear as the intended track. Still, unless the scratch was extreme, the record usually remained pretty useful and playable, thanks to that original bit of scratching and scarring that was the recording process.
We humans talk about scars and scratches as well. Both our bodies and our souls exhibit the marks of lives lived in a not always pleasant or harmless world. But like those vinyl record from days of old, those marks, however permanent, are secondary to the big imprint in our beings that is the mark of God within us. From the moment of our inception, indeed, from before time began, God marked us as His own. He built into our bodies and souls signs of His presence and authority that were meant to guide us as well as claim us. These marks are not an after-thought, like the grooves on a record. They define and inform us in the way of gifts and abilities, and in the fact that we are created in God’s image.
Mind you, they do require interpretation and understanding. God’s indelible marks of ownership need to be revealed to us, through self-examination and with the help of wise folks around us. They also need to be “played” as well. That is, just because we’re gifted doesn’t mean those gifts will bless others by themselves. We have to use them and enjoy them in order for their true value to be appreciated.
There’s always the risk that our gifts might be marred as life goes by. Sin and sorrow can scar us and affect the way we see ourselves and the blessings God has given us. Sometimes, if the scar is too deep, it can even make us feel totally useless. But unlike a record, we are never beyond use. In God’s eyes, we are always worth something. His gifts cannot simply be erased or forgotten. Sure, we might not be able to share them the same we once did, but that’s not important, really. What matters is that we acknowledge them and enjoy them, and give due to the Father that marked us as His from the beginning. At least that’s the way I see it.
December 2
Perhaps I’ve talked about this before, but it’s one of those topics that bears repeating, because it’s such a hard lesson to learn.
I happen to have a few talents that keep me busy, let me do my work, and offer me pleasure in many different ways. One those talents is the ability to enjoy what other folks do, which is both a source of great joy and frustration for me. I love seeing a talented person produce a beautiful work of art or do something unique and interesting. What’s frustrating, however, is getting that person to share their gift and revel in their own talent.
Some folks find it very hard to share what they’ve done. Me, I might be a little pushy, so I don’t mind showing off a little. But that isn’t the case with a number of very capable and blessed people. For them, any kind of showing off is too much; they would much rather be anonymous and let the gift speak for itself. Of course, this makes a lot of sense. Pride is a dangerous thing that we should all avoid, but somewhere short of pride there must be a safe and healthy degree of self-expression and acknowledging one’s own talent.
Look at God Himself. Our creator did not hesitate to tell us where we came from. God did not take an “Aw, shucks...” approach to laying claim to His handiwork. The Bible tells us very clearly that God not only created everything there, but started His creation from absolutely nothing at all. There is absolutely no modesty in God’s story about Himself. It’s just laid out for us that He took nothing and created the universe and everything in it.
It was the same way with Jesus. God didn’t give us His beloved son without saying He did it. God shared that story with us not to make us cower in awe, not to build up His ego or even to make us jealous of His incredible power. God laid claim to Jesus’ birth as a way of letting us know how intimately he is involved in our world. He let us know that by creating a version of Himself in human form he was doing a work that would benefit us not because He would remain in control but because we need to know that He loves us enough to do whatever it takes to keep us close to him.
Laying claim to our own talents and sharing not only what we produce but our ability to do so is a way of laying claim to God’s love. He saved us because He loves us. He gives us talents so that we can love Him in return by using those talents to teach, to please the eye or to express something about Him through our own creation. That’s why I enjoy seeing what other folks do. When I read a poet’s latest work I hear God’s gift of speech raised to a new level. To see a piece of art is to see not only a slice of God’s beauty, but a version of that beauty expressed in a way I could never achieve. To bear to witness someone doing something, whether it’s unique or mundane, with great skill and passion, is to see God’s own hands at work in our own human flesh.
Each of us is blessed with many wonderful talents. It’s worth acknowledging and sharing them because in doing so we point towards the heavenly creator that so blessed His creation. By letting others see and enjoy how God has blessed us, we not only get a chance to use our gifts, we also get a chance to praise God by letting His blessings to us bless others in return. At least that’s the way I see it.
November 25
“These are troubled times.” “He’s a troublemaker.” “Nobody knows the troubles I know” “You’re in trouble!”
It seems that one little word, ‘trouble’ has quite a task: It describes the big picture, as some folks choose to see it; It speaks to those who want someone to blame; It lets those burdened with worries and woe to share their pain and spread the joy; it let’s us point the finger when it’s time to call somebody else to account. Fortunately this heavily laden word does not carry the burden alone. It has ‘problems’ to help. ‘Woes’ pitch in to lend a hand, as do ‘issues,’ ‘challenges’ and ‘concerns.’ And, when ‘trouble’ isn’t enough, other terms come to its aid, things like being up a ‘creek without a paddle,’ or the ever popular, (though rephrased) ‘the stuff has hit the fan.’
Clearly, ‘trouble’ is an important word, as seen by both it’s frequent and varied application, and the fact that it has so many assistants helping us say that we are in the midst of a situation that is not at all pleasant. Of course, this can be a helpful thing. If I don’t know someone is having problems, I can’t offer them my help. But there’s a flip side, too, because sometimes folks like to complain just for the sake of complaining.
You see, I’m no longer very tolerant of the people who keep seeing the glass only half full, the water is dirty, and there’s a leak at the bottom. It’s not that I’m insensitive or that I don’t care, it’s just that if someone is going to share their troubles, I’d like it to be so that we can either work out a solution together, or so that I can offer them support as they muddle through, or so that folks can get it off their chests and then move on. If, however, people tell me about the trouble times in which we live, or complain about troublemakers, whine about their woes, or accuse me of having done something wrong without ever seeing the slightest ray of hope in their lives, well, that’s where I draw the line.
Like I said, it’s not a case of not caring; it’s a case of realizing that even in the midst of our greatest troubles there’s a way out; there is hope. It’s not that I don’t want to help; it’s a matter of folks having to help themselves before their situation can get better. It’s not that I’m intolerant or impatient; rather, it’s a matter of living life to it’s fullest, even through the hard times.
Look at Jesus’ life; He didn’t simply listen to folks troubles, he helped them. He didn’t just let folks complain about him or their situation, he showed them the good he was doing and offered to help them make their own lives better. In other words, Jesus didn’t complain about his times or situation, he moved ahead, offering help when necessary, and in the end, offering himself as the way out of our deepest, most God-troubling troubles.
Through Jesus, God gives us a way to deal with life in a positive, helpful way. Jesus inspires us to help as He helped. He equips us to lead better lives and show others the best way to live. He lifts our burdens from us, frees us from worry, and gives us more reasons to give thanks than to complain. In other words, with Jesus’ help, not only is our cup overflowing, but it’s filled with the best water ever, and it will never, ever be empty. All it takes is to give our problems to Him, and let Him help us work them out. At least that’s the way I see it.
November 18
A good cup of coffee is a tasty and easy treat enjoyed by a lot of folks. All you need is boiling water, a filter and some nice ground coffee beans and you’re off. Like tea and hot chocolate, it’s a simple thing to prepare, requiring only the most basic of kitchen skills and implements. Of course, you can get fancy with a coffee brewing machine percolator, the latter of which is my personal preference. These machines are great because they unite the various elements required for making one or more cups of the wonderful brew, unlike tea kettles which only boil the water and still require you to muck about with tea bags after the fact.
Now, I’ve fixed a few percolators and kettles in my time. There’s not much too them, and the repairs have always been pretty simple, usually a corroded wire or tired switch. However, I discovered the other day that things aren’t always as simple as they might appear to be. I was at my favourite coffee bar waiting to place my order. As I looked around, I noticed that one of their coffee makers had the back panel removed. Well, there is was, right in front of me, tempting me to take a peak at the inner workings of a commercial machine, something I’d never seen before.
That’s where the surprise came, because it was a lot more complicated than I’d ever imagined. Where anything I’d ever fixed before consisted of a heater and a switch, this machine had enough small fiddly bits to rival a NASA rocket launcher. OK, maybe I exaggerate, but not by much. The innards of that machine were far more complicated than I expected. I thought that it might have some advanced features I’d never seen before so I looked around at the front of the machine to see what they were. Nothing. Just a switch to control each of the heaters, and that was all. No advanced timers, no temperature control, just your basic bare-bones coffee maker. Well, basic from the front. From the inside, suffice it to say I’ve seen less complicated computers than that machine.
I am always amazed at how we humans overcomplicate things. We take a simple idea and add to it until it’s completely beyond understanding. We start simple relationships and turn them into complex social interactions that have more to do with formality than friendship. We take a simple sentence and lengthen and broaden it until it develops and devolves into a virtual maze of words and concepts that express little more than a great blowing wind of letters and phrases and...
...but I digress, because just as we make technology overly complicated, so too do we make our lives with God more than they need to be.
Our God is a pretty simple God. God loves us. God wants to be loved by us in return. God wants to take care of us. God wants us to treat others with the same love He offers us. There’s not much more to it than that. We can make it more complicated, but all we end up doing is confusing ourselves, and making things harder than they need to be.
Love God. Worship God. Care for others as God cares for us. That’s all it takes to have a healthy, holy relationship with our heavenly Father, no more, no less. At least that’s the way I see it.
November 11
As a sign of continued membership in the human race, I made a rather silly yet good mistake the other day. How can a mistake be both silly and good? It all has to do with intention and desire. The mistake was one of miscalculation. I had intended on accomplishing more things in one day than there were actual hours. So there I sat, enjoying the Induction service for a colleague, (the Presbyterian ritual in which a minister and his congregation are formally united and the union celebrated), while looking forward to another evening’s activity, when I suddenly realized that there was no way I could stay for the whole induction and still make it to my other commitment.
See? It was a silly, well-intentioned mistake because is was one that didn’t harm me or anyone else, and in the end, proved to be a blessing. Sure, I didn’t get to enjoy the full worship time with my colleague, nor did I get a chance to congratulate him, but there were benefits nevertheless. For one thing, the time I spent was a true pleasure. There was great music, an excellent video, and a truly inspiring talk. I was also blessed simply by having a chance to get a away on my own for a few minutes, and by the time I spent traveling, which I was able to turn into some very useful sermon preparation moments.
Ok, so I overbooked myself. Or, more accurately, I didn’t do the math before I committed to the various events I chose. Fortunately, that mistake was not irrevocable. As soon as I realized the error of my ways I changed plans and scooted out of the worship service at the first available opportunity. It was a rather public moment, as I was the only one leaving, but it wasn’t a bad moment, because I wasn’t going away upset, and the folks with me didn’t make a big fuss or scene. Stuff happens, people live with it, and we move on.
There are two other reasons that this was something of a good mistake. First, it didn’t need forgiveness. I know I didn’t stay for the whole induction service or greet my colleague appropriately, but at least I was there for a bit of it, and was able to support him that way, which is better than nothing.
The other good thing about the mistake is that it gave me fuel for today’s thoughts. One mistake, one learning (calculate how you spend your hours more carefully, PJ!) and one opportunity to share that experience and lesson. Not bad for a simple, silly mistake. And maybe not bad for other ways we mess up, too. If nothing else, our errors can be an opportunity for grace and learning, a chance to know ourselves better and to lean on God to make our next try successful. For me, grace came in the time I spent in worship and for sharing my experience with you today.
Yes, I’ll be more careful in how I fill my schedule from now on, and while I can’t promise not to make any more mistakes, I do promise to keep learning from them, and sharing those lessons with you. And why not? After all, there is no guarantee that everything we do will succeed, or that our every decision will be the best. But when we do our best to serve God, and err on the side of doing more rather than holding back and doing nothing, something good will come of it. All we have to do is look for God’s grace and mercy, learn from our experience, and some good will come from even our silliest mistakes. At least that’s the way I see it.
November 4
I like my little green Honda Civic. It’s not fancy or powerful or even exotic, but it’s kind of cute and I am especially fond of it’s deep green metallic paint job. That’s because British racing green is my favourite colour for a car; don’t ask me why, that’s just the way it is, and that’s why I like my little four-door car. Despite being pretty plain, in my eyes the shape and colour combine to make it a pretty handsome package. The other day, just how nice the Civic looks was really brought home to me in kind of an odd way.
The car had been recently waxed and polished, so the paint really shone. I had to install new tires, so they are that nice deep black you only get with fresh rubber. The driveway Wanda (that’s her name) rested upon had been recently paved and was still shiny and rich looking. Add to those factors a rather nice neighbourhood, with well trimmed gardens surrounding neatly kept homes, and it added up to the perfect photo-op for my car. The lighting, the setting, and that pitch black driveway set Wanda off in a way I hadn’t seen since my first starry eyed encounter with her right off the lot. The only word for the way Wanda looked is spectacular. Everything was just right to set off her attributes in the most appealing way, and I was in just the right mood to appreciate those cute good looks.
Wanda’s appearance reminded me of how advertisers use setting and lighting to make their product more appealing. Advertisers spend hours making things look more tempting. They primp and trim and decorate dinners so that we customers practically drool over the image, even if the food itself has been so highly processed with wax and polish to the point of being inedible. Of course, that doesn’t matter as long as we go out and buy the real thing. As long as the image looks good, advertisers know that we’ll be hooked. So what if the sheen on that fried chicken is actually a layer of clear lacquer? And so what if the stuff we get in the store doesn’t look quite like the ad? The advertiser has done her work: we’re hooked and the product is sold all because of the way it looks. Get the lighting, the setting and the looks right, and buyers will beat down your door for the product, whether it’s a lacquer glazed ham or a used 2001 Honda named Wanda.
Funny isn’t it, that God completely counters the wisdom of the advertiser. Oh, sure, the planet earth is pretty showy. There are lots of lovely views that can make even the most diehard atheist doubt his disbelief a little bit. On the other hand, we humans aren’t necessarily a super-showy bunch of folks. In fact, ordinary believers are often more on the odd side than the well polished and lit products most advertisers use for promotional purposes.
Still, God uses we people of faith just as we are, warts and all. No shiny wax coating, no special fuzzy wrinkle hiding lights, no beautiful well appointed setting. Just plain folks, in ordinary clothes, with regular habits and the odd annoying quirk. Yet even though we might have a somewhat humdrum appearance, there is still a majestic beauty in the true believer. Their goodness shines like a thousand suns. Their desire for justice stands out like ones well toned biceps. Their love is more beautiful than the finest panorama. No fancy decor, no paint job, adorned in nothing other than the light of Christ there is no better advertisement for God in all His splendour than someone who truly believes. At least that’s the way I see it.
October 28
I try to be very careful. After all, my reputation is probably the single most important asset I posses. Without being perceived as trustworthy, people would not let me into their lives to help them when they need it. Without being seen as a person of my word, no one would accept my promise to do something. Without a strongly visible faith, no one would be able to believe me and the message I share. Of course, these things have to be more than just perception. They have to be part and parcel of who and what I am, or else I would be a complete fraud, no matter how good my reputation might me.
I share this insight after having read an article about a young musician whose reputation has been utterly destroyed, at least in my sight, and yet enjoys lots of attention. Mind you, that attention is due to her train-wreck of a life, and to our inherent curiosity. I don’t know why, but people just can’t get enough of stars making fools of themselves, car wrecks by the side of the road, or fools passing themselves off as geniuses. It’s as if we have some kind of desire to see a disaster that doesn’t involve us so that our own lives seem good and normal in comparison. Or maybe we just like to see blood and guts and sordid headlines. Or maybe it’s a bit of both.
Whatever the cause might be, it seems that a bad reputation isn’t always a detriment, at least in some cases. In fact, it’s been said that there’s no such thing as bad publicity. Surely there is some truth to that statement, because the artist I mentioned above has made a fortune with her latest artistic effort. Apparently the product is flying off the shelves, not so much because it’s an incredible work of art, but because of her extremely outrageous behaviour.
This makes me a little bit sad, not only for the young lady and all the ways she is hurting herself, but also for a society that seems to dwell on the negative so much. Me, I’d rather not hear about this person’s troubles, and I’m not about to encourage an unhealthy lifestyle by purchasing her products. Let her go about her business alone and undisturbed so she can find help to heal and mature. That way, with the right support, she might be able to build success upon success based upon her reputation for being a good entertainer.
It’s strange how important a reputation is, and that even a bad one doesn’t always mean career destruction. It’s also strange how God would depend on we human beings to make His reputation. Strange, but true nevertheless. That’s my main reason for protecting both my own and my congregation’s high regard in the community. We’re God’s face and hands; we’re the ones He is using to accomplish His works and bring people into His loving arms. So our reputation means a great deal, and we have to work hard to keep it what God wants and needs it to be.
That being said, people of faith know God’s reputation for faith and love is beyond dispute. From season to season, day to day, moment to moment, He takes care of us, holds us up in our times of weakness and generally sees to it that we’re well loved. Best of all, if we’re faithful to him, we don’t have to worry about our reputation. Simply doing what God wants guarantees that we’ll stand up to any examination or character test thrown our way. Even if our reputation in society isn’t a good one and folks think we’re crazy or backwards because of our beliefs, at least God will have a good opinion of us, and that’s all that really matters. At least that’s the way I see it.
October 21
My home is conveniently located not too far from the church. It’s so close that you can see the back of the office from the back of the house. However, due to the arrangement of streets and a local creek, it’s actually a ten minute walk from door to door. More accurately, I have the choice of two ten minute walks from my residence to my work, and each one couldn’t be more different from the other. Or, to be absolutely correct, I am free to select from a total of three different routes from home to church, two of which are just about exactly the same distance, while the third one is actually an extremely short short-cut.
I realize that I am in a rather unique position, if you’ll pardon the pun. It isn’t very often that you can get to the same place by taking very different routes, but like I said, the arrangement of streets and other things makes it possible for me to pick between two very different routes with absolutely no streets in common. One route is very public, taking me along all the main roads in the neighbourhood. It’s often a busy walk with ‘Hi’s’ and ‘Hellos’ to other folks that are exercising or on their way some place. There’s lots of noise from traffic and the occasional toot of a horn from someone I know driving by.
The other route is much calmer, quieter and more peaceful. It takes me through the inner recesses of my neighbourhood, through a park and along a creek, across a school playground and up the tail end of a dead-end street. With a beautiful, highly visible pond along the way, the bush ensconced creek and even a little bridge for a moment of contemplation over the water, it’s the perfect route for a nice relaxing walk on those busy days when you need a bit of something out of the ordinary. Of course, those ten minute walks are good, but brief bits of exercise and fresh air, while that third quick route I mentioned is handy for those times when scheduling needs outweigh the need for a bit of reflection. It’s great to be able to get to work in moments when there’s an emergency or the rain is coming down too hard. Mind you, this shortcut does push my comfort zone a little, since it involves walking through a neighbour’s yard (at his invitation) so I take it with care, and only when truly necessary.
I like these choices in getting to work. I can pick the route that suits my mood and needs. And, they remind me that there isn’t just one path to God’s heart. Each of us is on a different journey, one marked by our own personalities and environment. Our paths are often a matter of both personal choice and outside factors. Sometimes they are brief and direct, sometimes they are long and circuitous. Sometimes they are easy and comfortable, sometimes they are hard and push us out of our comfort zone. Sometimes they get us straight to God’s heart, sometimes they take a few detours along the way.
Notice, however, that our journey with and to God is not just one trip. It’s a series of voyages we take through life, because as often as we seek out our heavenly creator, we also walk the other way. In our overall tour through life, we are heading closer and closer to God. But in our day to day existence, there are moments when we are on our way, moments when we walk with Him, and moments when we are headed in exactly the wrong direction. Yet no matter what path we might take, God is there for us. He seeks us out and leaves clear directions to Himself. And ultimately, when we choose to, God will see to it that no matter how far we’ve strayed or how tired we might be, we will find our way home once and for all. At least that’s the way I see it.
October 14
During a recent visit with a friend, we exchanged memories about the old days of computers, remembering when they were big and primitive, much to the chagrin of our kids, who couldn’t imagine what we were talking about. I guess at this point they were sufficiently so totally shocked by our chatter that they went off to play computer games in the next room. Imagine how much more chagrined they would have been when my friend said: “I don’t use the computer much any more.” Knowing him as well as I do, I wasn’t shocked; given our different work habits, it was pretty much as I expected. He’s just not into the technology the way I am. For me, the computer is as much a plaything as it is a tool. So, while I use it for both work and play, and I tend to use it a lot, my friend uses it only for work, and only sparingly at that.
Our conversation got me thinking about how much I do use computers, and why. In reality, I spend a fair bit of time doing things with these electronic marvels. At work, I use them for preparing and writing these musings, my worship material, and for communicating with others through email and the internet. Yet for all the use I get out of them, it’s not as if I really need a computer. In fact, I prefer a phone for talking to others and making appointments. I like getting my hands into books or newspapers for my day to day information and research. And as much as a computer can help me create music or play music, I would rather practice with our church band or listen to the radio than hear the synthesized sounds of my Mac.
Pondering things a little more, I started thinking about doing less on my computer; could I get away with it? Would I survive? Or have I become totally dependent. While the jury is still out, I think I could get by quite alright without this little electronic marvel. About the only thing I would really, really miss is it’s text entering ability, because it really does speed things up a great deal, at least for me. I like that I can type almost as fast as I can think, and that I can store all my writings in a compact space. I also appreciate the ability to change things and adapt them as necessary. And, of course, the spell checker is pretty handy, too. So, while I’m not totally dependent on my computer, I would really miss it, especially for writing out sermons and worship texts.
So, while it’s a great time saving tool, my computer is not the be all and end all of my ministry. There is only one thing that I really need to get the work done, and that is God’s own text, the Bible. That is the one thing that I absolutely, unquestionably require. Everything else is icing on the cake: my ‘puter, my office, even the sanctuary are wonderful things, but without a hard copy of God’s word, I’d be lost.
After all, where else would I get my inspiration and guidance? Where else would I find out what God’s saying to me, or interpret the needs of my congregation? And ultimately, where else would I find out about God’s mercy and love, as expressed in His Son, Jesus Christ? Sure, there are great computer web pages, programs and aids, there are smart people and excellent reference materials, but nothing can compare to the Bible, God’s own tool for life and everything else. Go ahead, take away my computer and all my other devices, but leave me God’s written word, and I’ll do just fine. Try it yourself, and I think you’ll agree that when it comes to knowing, serving and loving God, it’s all you really need. At least that’s the way I see it.
October 7
My wife, Lois, is an avid reader; so are my two children. I like reading, too, but I’m not quite as passionate about it as the rest of my family. I’m more of a hands-on guy. In other words, I am the type of person that would rather read a book of instructions and build something, rather than simply read about a history of that item. That being said, my second choice for reading, after instructions, would be either a history of technology or the real life story of a person who has contributed to humanities technological advancement.
Of course, as part of my ministry, I read how-to and history books regarding faith and it’s place in the world. And, as you might expect, I read the Bible, sometimes to prepare for worship, sometimes to answer a specific question or need from a parishioner, sometimes just for curiosity, and daily, for the care and feeding of my soul.
It’s there, in my daily readings, where my practical tendency catches up with my reading habits. Rather than simply look at the words and read them in my mind, I actually read the words out loud. That’s right, I speak the living words God has given us, even if folks around me think it’s kind of strange. My reason for this overt reading is pretty simple. I figure that if these words were given to us by a living God, then they should be read out loud and given a voice, no matter how others might feel about me muttering to myself.
Think about it for a moment. When we read quietly, the words before us resound only in our minds. Reading them aloud, on the other hand, causes the air to move and our ears to respond to that movement. In other words, by speaking the written word, it not only enters our mind through our eyes, but it also enters it through our ears, which gives us a very different sense of what’s happening. The difference lies in what we do with the words; to read without speaking them leaves them flat, with only the pictures in our minds to inform us. But to give breath to God’s word gives us a new perspective, because we can speak the words with enthusiasm when they are joyful; we can whisper when God calls us to awe and wonder; we can moan when there is pain and despair; we can laugh when there is irony. In other words, we can let God’s words lead us into dancing and singing or whatever mood they speak.
Reading God’s word aloud also offers one more benefit. Not only does it give life to the words, it also forces us to truly understand them, because we have to pronounce those that might be new or unfamiliar. We also have to grasp the gist or direction of a phrase or paragraph if we are to read it in a way that would make sense to a listener other than ourselves. When that happens, when the words make sense, we hear them in a way that not only brings them to life, but us as well. In other words, just as we give breath to the Scriptures, God gives us His spirit and makes us alive in Him.
It’s not a difficult discipline. You don’t need a great voice or tremendous acting skills to read God’s word out loud. All it takes is a desire to delve into the Bible rather than just skim over it. Try it for yourself. You’ll find it’s like the difference between reading instructions to pass the time, and reading them to reach a greater goal. To give voice to God’s word is to let God speak through us, to let His living Word energize us and renew us, to let His Holy Spirit move and inspire us. At least that’s the way I see it.
September 30
I have a not-so-secret supplier of my most favourite summer crop, the tomato. She’s one of those folks who can grow roses out of dandelions, a true green thumb that is completely the opposite to me. Me, I couldn’t grow a fake petunia, but Cathy has that unique ability to, well, to grow just about anything she puts her mind to. That’s a wonderful blessing for me, especially since store bought Tomatoes are more like little round baseballs than something worth eating. Grown strictly for shipping and appearance purposes, they are no good for eating, unless they’re cooked and processed and smothered in herbs and spices. Cathy’s tomatoes, on the other hand, are perfect for munching just as they are, straight from the ground, with just a little rinse for good luck.
Of course, they are also good for pilfering, as happened when I brought a batch home. Passing through on my way from one meeting to another, I deposited a nice full basket on the kitchen counter, happily announcing to the family that we had fresh tomatoes from Cathy’s garden. That, of course, was my big mistake. By the time I returned home, the overflowing basket of ripe juicy goodies had been reduced to a mere sample of the smallest of Kathy’s wonderful offering. My stash was stolen! My gift was gone! My tomatoes were taken.
I was disappointed, to say the least. Of course I didn’t mind that my family had enjoyed the tomatoes; that’s what they’re for. But it would have been nice to have had at least a few more than what I had been left. When I explained this to Cathy, she graciously (and remarkably quickly!) replenished my stolen stash, but this time it came with strict instructions not to share the tomatoey treasure with anyone. They were to be mine, all mine, and nobody else’s. Which, naturally, given my Presbyterian-Roman Catholic guilt, put me into a great and troubling quandary. How could I not share such a wonderful bounty of fresh garden goodness? Was it right for me to hog the whole thing? Didn’t God say something about sharing and feeding the hungry?
I chose to disobey my benefactor. Once again, I brought the bounty home and shared it with my family, but with the background information that these were Cathy’s gift to me, and that she had ordered me not to share them. The result was my getting the lion’s share of the crop, not out of my family’s guilt, but out of respect and love for Cathy. If she wanted me to enjoy the tomatoes, that was good enough for them. Personal quandary solved; guilt appeased. Ripe juicy tomatoes consumed in record time.
I must say, I was, and am, truly blessed to have such gracious and generous people around me, but I guess it’s only natural, given the gracious and generous God whom we all serve. His blessings are for all of us to share, but they are also meant for us to enjoy, too. Sometimes we’re called to give everything away, but sometimes we’re also the ones that receive the blessings and are called simply to say thanks. So I say thanks to Cathy, for sharing the fruit of her labours, to my family for letting me pig out on my favourite edible item, and to God for providing such wonderful folks and delicious tomatoes. I thank you, too, for indulging me in these pensive moments, and for sharing yourselves and your gifts however you can with the God that has given us so much to share, and so much to enjoy. I know that this might seem like a pretty simple message this week, but sometimes it’s the simple things, like nice fresh tomatoes, that feed us the most. At least that’s the way I see it.
September 23
Actor Alan Alda was recently quoted as saying: "I don't have any evidence that there's anything after this life. If it turns out there is, fine, then I'll get on that train, but I'm not counting on it.” I don’t agree. I believe there is something after this life, something that takes us to a level beyond anything we could ever know in this lifetime. I don’t believe this just because I’m hoping for something better. I like my life here on earth just fine, and wouldn’t mind having a pretty long go of serving and enjoying God. The afterlife, however, is like the icing on the cake of my time here. It’s the gift God gives us so that we can know Him and understand Him and truly, wholeheartedly enjoy Him.
Created in His image and set upon this earth by His will, I believe that this life prepares us to know and appreciate God in Heaven. Here on earth we are offered the opportunity to know and to love Him and enjoy Him. At the same time, we offer God a sense of fulfillment and joy as we love and serve him as best we can. It’s very much a two-way street of blessings and being blessed. Yet here on earth our image is distorted by the power of sin and our desire to go it alone. Try as we might, we can’t help but not reflect God’s true wonder and holiness. That’s where heaven and hell comes into play. Heaven is where we go if we’ve known God and loved him, however imperfectly. Hell is where we go when we consciously reject God and go against His will when we’re given a chance to learn about Him. I know that’s pretty black and white, but that’s where I need to start, because it does get a little more complicated than that.
Given God’s incredible love for us, I believe that when our final moment arrives, He gives us something of a choice. In the extreme instance of our passing from this life to the next, God lets us see our lives as they were in comparison with what they might have been like if we had let Him in, or if we had tried a little harder. When we see how much God loves us, when we realize all that we’ve missed out on, God then gives us a choice: take His offer of life with him in heaven, or reject Him once and for all and miss out on our last chance for His complete and unabashed love. That idea gives me great hope. It speaks to those who’ve known God, but perhaps only partially acknowledged Him. It also goes out to those who have never had a real chance to know Him and experience His love first hand. And it’s true to God’s great love for us, and sacrifice Christ made on the cross for all humanity.
How can I be so certain of this promise, and of the existence of an afterlife? The Bible tell us two soldiers were crucified along with Jesus. It says neither knew God, but one was open to Jesus and he was invited to join Jesus in Heaven that day, just because He acknowledged who and what Jesus was. I think that’s an offer God makes to all of us in the final moment of life, and I firmly believe that God makes true on Jesus’ promise if we do like that soldier did.
In addition to God’s written truth, I’ve seen too much evidence of God’s work in this life to doubt what He says will happen when we leave this earthly realm. I’ve seen miracles in the lives of those around me; I’ve experienced wonders that have no explanation other than a divine one. I’ve seen the difference between letting God in and shutting Him out in my own life. And I’m not alone in my experience. Too many folks have seen what I’ve seen, felt what I’ve felt, known what I’ve known. The evidence is unavoidable, insurmountable, undeniable. There is a
heaven, and we’re all welcome to join God there when we’re done down here; you can count on it. At least that’s way I see it.
September 16
It was a particularly good season for Blueberries this year which made for one especially one good mid-summer day. With a pile of ripe, juicy berries in hand Lois prepared a wonderful batch of overstuffed Blueberry muffins. Now, traditionally, one would call these baked delights Blueberry Muffins. However, they were so full of berry goodness that they might have been called Blueberries lightly covered in batter. That’s how stuffed they were. And, as I said, it was a good season so they were deliciously sweet and marvelous muffins.
Such muffiny delight came at a price, however, and that price was longevity. Apart from the naturally reduced life-expectancy of wonderful baked goods in the midst of growing children, (especially David, who seems to gain an inch in height with every kilo of food consumed) the muffins had an unfortunately fatal flaw. They were, in effect hoist by they’re own petard, because the ripe, sweet blueberries that made them so delicious were also the cause of an unusual and unexpected problem.
Sugar, bacteria and water are the basic elements of alcohol. When given the right conditions, the sugar undergoes a chemical change and converts into either methanol or ethanol, one of which is fuel for automobiles and the other fuel for good old booze. Blueberries, especially this season’s blueberries, are chock full of sugar. They also have a fairly high water content. Bacteria are in the air in various unavoidable forms. And it was those elements of Blueberry juice, sugar and air-borne contaminants that led to the end of Lois’ marvelous muffins. You see, after just a day or so, they became little pockets of boozy badness.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not against the consumption of alcohol in the right circumstances. However, when it’s sour stuff of unknown type that has turned sweet baked goods into sour doughy junk, I draw the line. Thus it was that the muffins ended up in the compost bin after an all too brief life span. Doomed by their own sweet enjoyability, they were, perhaps just too good. This is not an unusual occurrence. It is possible to have too much of a good thing when we let it go astray. Faith can become fanaticism. Healthy fear can slip into paranoia. A love of the odd drink can devolve into alcoholism. Too many sweet, delicious blueberry muffins can cause the eater to become excessively muffin shaped. You get the picture. So does God. God knows all too well how easy it is for us to take something wonderful and overdo it.
God also knows how to straighten out our messes when we do go overboard, and it doesn’t involve compost heaps, trash bins or garbage dumps. God’s answer to our overindulgence in things is to overwhelm us with love. And that love is just about the only thing that is never overly abundant. In fact, because of who we are, we can never get enough of God’s love. The reason is simple. God’s love, when properly understood and enjoyed, flows from us as fast as He offers it to us. As we receive it, we can’t help but share it. As it feeds and empowers us, we can’t help but nourish and strengthen someone else with it. And as we dole it out, God doles it in, constantly giving us more than we need so that we have more than enough to give away.
Never out of season, never out of stock, never going bad, we can never get too much of God’s love. At least that’s the way I see it.
September 9
Guilty as charged; I’m responsible; Mea culpa; (that’s Latin for ‘It’s my fault!’) these are phrases that have long been part of my life, not just as necessary tools in an averagely imperfect life, but as a very significant part of my being. It’s not that I’m particularly bad. I have, in all honesty, not committed huge crimes against humanity. However, I have always had a tendency to feel like I’ve been just about the most awful sinner imaginable.
I’m not sure why. It’s joked that guilt is one of the core requirements of being part of the Roman Catholic church, one of the few traits it shares with the Presbyterian church. It might be an “only child” thing. It could have to do with the way I was raised, although I don’t remember my parents making me fee too guilty about things. Nevertheless, I have always had this sense of having done the wrong thing, hurt someone deeply, or offended God. Mind you, I’m not a bad person; I think I’m kind of average in the number of times I goof up. However, knowing such things in my heart doesn’t help to alleviate the weight on my conscious. Somehow, I have this impending sense that my next conversation with a friend will reveal some way I’ve done them, a neighbour, society or God, wrong.
Thankfully, that sense of guilt is slowing going away. More and more I am coming to see that it’s neither necessary or helpful. As I said earlier, I’m not that bad a person. I obey traffic laws, I treat others with respect and I never grab free samples from the bins at the local bulk store. In other words, I know in my head that I have no reason to feel guilty most of the time. Sure, there are slip-ups, mistakes and the odd moments of pettiness for which I feel badly, but the rest of the time, I am slowly learning to enjoy reality rather than dwelling on the should-have, shouldn’t have or might-have in life.
God knows our inner shame. He knows the full extent of our guilt. And the reality of that awareness does nothing to diminish His love for us. That’s true for a couple of reasons. First, God has the truly big picture, so He knows that for most human beings, our sins aren’t nearly as huge as we make them out to be. Secondly, God takes pity on our sinfulness, because He knows it hurts us far more than they hurt Him. Our sins push us away from him directly, because they are in contradiction and denial of His law and will, and indirectly, because our shame causes us to hide away from our heavenly Father.
I’m sure that there are moments when our foul-ups cause God to get angry when we willingly and knowingly strike out against Him. I’m also sure that those angry moments quickly turn to pity and mercy when we realize our folly and take responsibility for what we’ve done. That’s the true place of guilt. It’s a tool that pricks us and prods us to turn to God and own up to our mistakes. Our shame should be a source of embarrassment that drives us into God’s arms rather than away. And those feelings should be balanced against reality; when we’ve blown it, there’s reason to feel bad. The rest of the time, when we’re trying our best to do God’s will, however imperfectly, there’s every reason to feel happy; not smug or proud, but content. Not boastful, but satisfied. Not overconfident, but at the least trusting that God would rather have us try and fail at goodness, rather than having us do nothing and succeed in guilt. Trust me. I know guilt and if you let it get to you, you only end up feeling even more guilty, and that’s not what God wants for us at all. At least that’s the way I see it.
September 2
For the past 20 years or so, my wife and I have been attending a week-long music camp sponsored by the Presbyterian Church in Canada. Lois’ history with the place goes back even longer, but for modesty’s sake I won’t say how long; suffice it to say that she practically grew up at the place. More recently, we’ve added our children to the mix, which means that they too will grow up knowing the place. Actually, since they started pretty much as soon as they were ready to travel, Music Camp is even more deeply ingrained into their being then it is in mine or their mother’s.
Perhaps the best thing that has been instilled by this yearly event is the sense of welcome one receives. When I attended my first Music Camp, just before Lois and I were married, I was made to feel like I had belonged there all my life. Lois of course, whose history went back further, was received in a much more familiar way, but I can’t say that the reception was any more friendly than mine. That’s not how the place works; old friends and new folks are always greeted with open and expectant arms, so that nobody feels left out. They big difference with frequent attendance is being called by name from the second you arrive.
Being thus received is truly a wonder to behold, and one of the best parts of the week. Community is formed the moment the first couple of folks arrive. Team building exercises help us get to know the names of new folks that arrive, but other than that, they are largely unnecessary. There are few hurdles to overcome. There are no secret handshakes to learn, no special behaviours to adopt, nothing that has to be memorized or worn or stamped in order to belong. All you have to do is show up in a spirit of receptiveness, a love of music, and a desire to be close to God. If you’re open to those basic things, and would like to be together with other like-minded folks, you feel like you’re at home the moment you stop and make your presence felt.
There is something deeply theological, something very much a part of God’s plan, in this reception. It is exactly how God welcomes us into His heart from the moment we are born. As His children, God receives us into Himself from the moment we first have our being. No introductions are needed; He knows us because He formed us. As we grow older, we distance ourselves from our creator because of our weakness in the presence of sin, but God is never too far away. All we have to do is seek Him out and He’ll receive us again. With increasing maturity, we are introduced to Jesus, God’s Son, and again, we are received with open arms.
One day, we will make yet another entrance before our maker; we will leave this earthly realm and meet God face to face. That’s the only time our reception may be at risk, the only time God might not receive us warmly. After all, if we failed to come before Him in life, why would God receive us later on? If we refused His son when given the chance, why would He not also refuse us? I know it sounds harsh or maybe even unfair, given how much God loves us. But if we never reveal our love for God, if we don’t bother sharing our lives with Him now, how will we be able to do it in the after-life? Think of it this way: our reception in heaven will be the same as the way we receive Jesus in this life. How God welcomes us to eternity will be just as we welcome Him during our earthly stay. It’s that easy; it’s that important; it’s that permanent; it’s that worthwhile. At least that’s the way I see it.
August 19
Ah, the sequel. Filmmakers have found a veritable treasure trove of money making inspiration by going back to an original film with a follow up version in one form or another. Sometimes, as with the renowned Indiana Jones series, the sequels are simply different stories, with the only thread being the characters. In other films, like the Godfather or Star Wars, the sequels are actually continuations of the story line. When done this way, a curious thing happens: while each film stands on its own, together they form an even larger story, one that is often greater than the sum of the individual parts.
Sequels are made for a few different reasons. Sometimes, as with the Godfather, the follow-up films were planned from the beginning because the story was too big for just one movie. Other sequels, however are the result of the film maker realizing they have a cash cow on hand, and they make more films based solely on the push of the immortal dollar. At other times, a sequel has nothing to do with the original filmmaker. Instead, someone else picks up the story, seeing in it the potential for something interesting, or an opportunity to fill in blanks or add to the original adventure.
Making a sequel is a risky proposition, whatever the reasons for it. When a movie succeeds, viewers tend to fall in love with the heroes and have certain expectations for them. Any film that comes after has to meet those expectations if it is to succeed, but that means that the filmmaker is limited in what he might do next. When the original Star Wars series came out, people were not disappointed with each succeeding film because the producer and director gave them what they wanted. They kept the characters and plot-lines viewers enjoyed so much, and still managed to create something fresh and exciting. But when the next three films in the series came out, there was great confusion and disappointment. Expectations were not met because there were shifts and adjustments in the plots. The old characters weren’t there in quite the same way, and the whole feel of the films was quite different from that of the originals.
That’s the risk and the joy of the sequel. You take something folks enjoy and offer it up again in a slightly different form, hoping they’ll like it again. In the world of the filmmaker sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. In God’s world, however, the sequel did not disappoint. God’s sequel was Jesus Christ, who both retold and revised God’s story. Jesus retold the story of God’s love for humanity, revising it slightly so that we could understand it better.
Jesus, being God’s son in human form, allowed us to see that being made in God’s image means more than just being duplicates of our creator. Jesus showed us the Godly potential within all of us, the power for us to love and forgive and care in ways beyond what we thought were possible for us. That’s a pretty amazing way to follow up God’s original story of creation, love and redemption. And the story isn’t finished yet. There is one more sequel to come, and it promises to be even more amazing. It’s a conclusion to God’s story that will see Jesus return and a whole new way of living begin. It’s a finale that will see the complete end of sin and suffering and offer the ultimate understanding of who and what we are in God’s world. And it’s one that I wouldn’t miss for anything, because it’s going to be simply wonderful for everyone who has taken an active part in the story so far. At least that’s the way I see it.
August 12
It is an ancient idea shared by the Bible, Aesop, story-tellers and many others. Mechanics are all too aware of it. Doctors know all about it. And anyone who has ever known the it’s discomfort is well aware of it. In the Bible, it was a “mote in one’s eye.” Aesop described it as a thorn in the lion’s paw. Storytellers tell of the pea buried beneath many mattresses. For mechanics it’s a speck of metal in a precision machine, for Doctors it’s a virus or bacteria, for the rest of us it’s a grain of sand stuck in our shoe. Yes, friends, I’m talking about the tiny irritant, the wee little thing that might be nearly invisible but has obvious effects, the little element that has power and strength far beyond it’s measure.
No-one escapes these things. The mightiest warrior can be brought down by a virus that is completely invisible to the naked eye. The brightest thinker can be led astray by a single seemingly innocuous incorrect assumption. Even a strong leader can be torn to bits by just one small negative comment. It’s the way of the world that size doesn’t matter. There is no need for a mighty arsenal of sticks and stones; a single stone can knock us flat. Sabotage need not consist of big sledgehammers; a well placed pebble can do the job just as well. Big saws aren’t needed when a single, well placed tap can split a diamond in two.
Enough examples. You should get the point that it doesn’t take much to knock us down, to tear us apart, to leave us shattered and broken. Sometimes all it takes is a single word spoken at the wrong time to do irrevocable damage. And all too often, the effects last far too long. What took only moments to destroy can take more than a lifetime to rebuild. Or, more accurately, more time than we have left in life. The wound runs too deep. The hurt is too great. The shame is too much. And so a good friend can be lost forever; a dedicated worker turned off for the rest of her career; a faithful church-goer driven from service.
It’s a sad fact. There’s no getting around it. It doesn’t take much to cause much damage. But there’s another fact too. If a person is willing, it doesn’t take much to rebuild, to restore, to get over it. All it takes is a couple of small words used together. All it takes is a desire to move on. All it takes is grace, mercy and love exchanged in a few small words. I am sorry. I forgive you. Those are the tiny words. Those are the source of healing and restoration. Those are the gifts that God has given us to move beyond the hurt we cause one another.
They might not seem like much, my argument might seem small and trivial, a wee mote of a thing, a thorn in the guilty conscious, a grain of dust rubbing against our shame, but those words are incredibly powerful. I am sorry. That’s all God himself asks from us. No matter how much we hurt Him, all he ask is that we come clean. As to the “I forgive you,” He’s already dealt with that. Jesus’ death and resurrection marks our forgiveness, God’s response to our I’m sorry, no matter how often we say it.
Just as a small thing can tear us apart, a few small words can build us up again. If those words are good enough for God, shouldn’t they be good enough for us? If all it takes for us to be right with God is to say we’re sorry and receive His forgiveness, shouldn’t that be enough in other part of our life as well? In my experience, it is; just a few small words can make a huge difference. After all, if they’re good enough for God, I can’t help but believe that they’re good enough for us, too. At least that’s the way I see it.
August 5
Even though I’m the pastor for a specific congregation, my ministry is not confined to that one group of people. On different occasions my services go to folks beyond the wall of St. James depending on their particular need. It doesn’t happen very often, but there have been a few times when I’ve been able to help someone in the community that has nothing to do with my own congregation. This is particularly true when it comes to funerals. Folks with no church affiliation will ask the funeral director to get them a minister, and the director obliges by calling folks like myself, folks who are ready to help, no matter how tenuous a person’s connection with God might be.
Occasionally, this puts me in an odd situation, not from the funeral itself, but the time after, when I am no longer that person’s temporary minister, but just an ordinary Joe. The odd situation is to be completely forgotten by the man or woman that called me during what was one of their times of greatest need. That’s right. Even though I might have spent a good chunk of time helping someone through a crisis, I’ve found myself completely forgotten by them when we meet under other circumstances. That’s a very strange feeling. It’s almost as if I didn’t matter, or the service I performed meant nothing at all. It’s like being nothing more than a completely forgettable store clerk, someone who does their job well, performs a useful service, but is otherwise totally anonymous.
Now don’t get me wrong. I am not an attention hog. I am not out for recognition or to have my ego stroked at all times. But when you spend hours getting to know a person, when you take the time to comfort them and hold their hands through a tough spot, when you open your heart to them so they can open up to you, you expect to at least be acknowledged when you meet under different circumstances. It’s not so much a hurtful experience as it is one that makes you wonder if the person got anything at all out of your gift of time and energy.
Ah well, in the end, it’s strange, but not really that important. What matters is that I was able to be there in a time of need and that my congregation enables me to reach out beyond them so I can bless others in the community as I try to them. To be remembered is strictly a bonus, a nice touch, but not a necessity.
Of course, that’s not a problem when it comes to God. God’s memory for people and events as absolutely perfect. We’re the ones that are more likely to forget Him than He is to forget us. Such a memory is, of course, both good and bad for us. It’s good, because God knows us and is ready for us whenever we need Him. It’s bad because God knows us and is ready for us whether it’s memory of something good that we’ve done, or one of some way that we’ve managed to mess things up.
But even that perfect memory is not that bad, because God not only knows about our sin, He knows why we blew it. So, while He can’t forget our sin, He has the grace and mercy to forgive us. This means that we have a new start, an opportunity to offer Him new memories as we do our best on His behalf. All it takes to make those good memories takes is for us to remember the One that never forgets us, and to bless others the way He never forgets to bless us. At least that’s the way I see it.
July 29
It’s time to write about a significant event in the life of the Giurin family. Just over a month ago, we had to put our pet, Mittens the Wonder Cat, to sleep. This long-time part of the family, known on the Giurin web-site as the cantankerous old cat that ruled the family, was no longer enjoying life. After twenty-plus years years she was blind, she was deaf, she was stiff and sore, and it just didn’t seem fair for her to have to suffer any more. It was a hard decision, but one that had to be made. After all, sometimes the greatest kindness comes in letting go.
Now, with some time having gone by, it seems appropriate to reflect on what Mittens’ place in my life, and what it means to be responsible for a life. Trust me, being the caretaker of a fish tank whose denizens are just as likely to go down to Davey Jones’ locker as they are to survive, I know what happens when you shirk your duties, and even when you don’t. It’s an awesome thing to realize that a life depends on you, whether it’s a fish, a cat, or a child.
With Mittens, of course, the responsibility wasn’t really mine. It was up to Lois to feed and clean up after her. That was part of the deal when I presented her with the gift of a feline companion. But of course, even though that was the deal, when Lois was expecting, I had to take over, since exposure to kitty-litter wasn’t healthy for mom’s to be. And, naturally, when the litter was too heavy, the job fell on me. And, as can be expected, there was more than one occasion when I not only had to buy the cat her food, I also had to set it in her bowl. So, sure, she was Lois’ responsibility on paper, but in real life, all of us, even the kids as they grew older, took care of our furry house-mate.
Now, not being a real pet person, this was something of an imposition. After all, I got the thing because Lois wanted it, and not out of any great desire to have the furniture covered in cat fur. But, even though I didn’t really care for the cat, I still felt responsible for her as a living creature, since she was part of the family, and very much loved by Lois, and later on, by the kids. So I did what I had to do, not reluctantly or begrudgingly, because it was the right thing to do. And yes, even though I’m not the first person to run out and buy a cat or a dog, I will admit that they are not entirely unpleasant things to have around.
Mittens the Wonder cat is gone, and there was a fair bit of sadness at home. Time has helped that sadness slowly dispel leaving joy and thankfulness at having had Mittens. For Lois, it was the loss of a beloved companion. For the kids, it was the loss of a playmate they had known for their entire lives. For me, it was seeing my family suffer so much over the loss, and the fact that I had to help them come to the decision that ended both Mitten’s life and her suffering.
If that’s how our family felt for a pet, imagine how much more responsible God must feel for us, His beloved children. Imagine how much more God must hurt when we suffer. Imagine how much more God’s heart must break when we turn away from Him. On the other hand, imagine how much God must rejoice when the lost find their way back to Him. Imagine how happy He must be when we let others know He’s our beloved Father. And imagine how much it much give God pleasure when, at the last, we enter our heavenly home and we can know and enjoy Him face to face. Who knows, with His great heart, He might even have the odd pet running around up there, or even a cantankerous pussy cat. At least that’s the way I see it.
July 22
My wife and I have just returned from a quick trip to our local “Value Village,” which is great place to shop for a great variety of gently used items. Apart from the fact that the prices are always very low, I am particularly enamoured by our branch of the store because I often find sports-coats that fit and look good on. This is not always easy for me, because I am quite tall, with a long torso and long arms, and I can’t always find shirts or jackets that suit my particular body shape. In fact, the “Value Village” in Chatham is the only place I’ve ever found jackets that suit my unique needs.
This is an added bonus for this store, because I’ve always been a great fan of second hand shops, whether its under the guise of a classy antique store, a crazy flea market, or one that supports a charities, like “Value Village, “Good Will” or the Salvation Army Thrift shop.” First, these places fun to visit because of the wide variety of goods they carry, and the fact that so many of them hearken back to a different era. They’re also good to have around because they are excellent examples of good stewardship. Everything they sell is second hand. However, rather than throwing the thing out and having it occupy space in a landfill site, every object gets a second chance to be useful.
For me, the idea of getting a second chance is very important because I’m often in the position of being able to help people get a second chance when feel useless. It’s not always expressed that way, but that’s how many people feel. Sometimes it’s because of a mistake they’ve made, something that pushes them away from God or the people they love and need. Sometimes it’s a matter of external forces, a death or loss of a job, something beyond their control, that makes them feel lost and adrift. And sometimes its the realization that they’ve never gotten to know God very well, and it’s about time to start.
Each occasion is one that calls for a re-examination of what’s important that includes a renewed sense of self-worth. That’s why I think it’s like getting a second chance. It’s a new beginning, a fresh start, a whole new ball game. And out of that situation comes a new perspective that builds on what’s happened to drag a person down, and helps them move ahead in their relationship with God and in their lives. That’s why Value Village appeals to me so much. All that stuff in there gets a second chance to have value and purpose after it’s been deemed useless or undesirable by someone else.
There is also one big difference between what I try to accomplish and what happens in Value Village. In those stores, the stuff on the shelves has a limited shelf life. If it doesn’t sell, it eventually ends up in the trash. That’s not the case with humans. God would never do that to us. We might do it to ourselves, we might be the authors of our own misfortune and sad end, but with God, there’s always a second chance, no matter how fall we’ve fallen or strayed away. In God’s eyes, we have no shelf life, no best-before or expiry dates. And no matter what others may think of us, no matter how rejected we might feel, God will accept us, if we only reach out our hands. That’s because, as I’ve said before, I’m saying now, and will keep on saying, God doesn’t make junk. In God’s eyes, we’re all good enough and desirable. Even the greatest sinner, if they ask for God’s help, can be redeemed, and even the most broken, shattered life, when it seeks His hand, can be restored. At least that’s the way I see it.
July 15
Michaelangelo created David, that amazing statue that expresses the human form so perfectly, you almost expect it strut around the museum. We have no idea who made the statue of Venus de Milo, that ancient paragon of female beauty, or who knocked her arms off and made her even more fascinating. Leonardo DaVinci painted “The Last Supper” and the “Mona Lisa”, paintings that have intrigued and amazed artists and non-artists alike since they were first introduced. We have no idea who created the prehistoric cave paintings in France. The architectural firm of “Lamb and Jordan” were responsible for the design of St. James’ new sanctuary. We have no idea what architectural firm handled the design of Stonehenge.
Does it matter that we don’t know who created the “Venus de Milo” the French petroglyphs or Stonehenge? Are the Statue of David, the “Last Supper” the “Mona Lisa” or St. James, new sanctuary more attractive because we know the designers? In other words, can we associate beauty with a creator or should the artist stand quietly hidden in the winds and the their work speak for themselves? That’s a tough question; to name an artist or lay claim to a piece of work carries with it the risk of pride and selfishness. At the same time, as Christians, to say we did something by ourselves has the danger of leaving God out as we take the credit for ourselves. Then, of course, there’s the problem of ownership, because once a work of art is created, it becomes part of everyone who enjoys it, a problem that’s compounded when the artist leaves this earthly realm and the fruit of their labours remains for all to see and enjoy.
At the same time, God- given gifts should be celebrated and acknowledged. To create something beautiful and claim it as the work of our hands is to recognize our blessings from God and give Him credit directly and visibly. When we hide those gifts by remaining anonymous we effectively deny them, because we deny others the opportunity to see just how God blessed a neighbour differently from themselves. Personally, I think a work of art is all the more beautiful when I know who the artist is. In fact, I own very few pictures by folks I don’t know, simply because I want the whole story. I love to look at a picture and know the person behind it. It’s as if they have given me a part of themselves, shared with me something of who they are so that they will always remain in my heart. Anonymity denies me that joy. And in turn, it means one less chance to give God credit, because I have no idea in whom He worked.
Would these musings stand up on their own? Maybe. Do you find the more interesting because you know me? I hope so. Does my owning up to their creation lessen God’s place in them? I certainly pray that’s not the case. I pray that by owning up to them I can direct others to God by being able to state that what I write I do by His grace. Sure, they’re my words, but those words are His gift to me. Sure, it’s my name, but that name only marks one life of many in God’s book. Plus, if I don’t do a good job, I’d rather claim the mistake rather than letting you wonder what God was thinking that day. Finally, I figure that if you know who I am, then I might get the chance to know you better as you ask questions or challenge me about my work. That way I can give credit where credit is due, while at the same time enjoy yet another work of art, the creation made by God in His image that is otherwise known as “neighbour.” At least that’s the way I see it.
July 8
Today’s word is ‘Collegial’ as in “relating to or involving shared responsibility, as among a group of colleagues,” a word related to ‘colleague’ as in “a person with whom one works, esp. in a profession or business.” The fascinating thing about these words is that they are based on the Latin term ‘ligare’ which means to tie together, so that a collegial body, or one of the colleagues within that body, is simply a group of folks that are tied together by a common thread. So, as part of the Presbytery of Essex-Kent I belong to a collegial body of elders and ministers tied together tending to the spiritual needs within Essex-Kent. As part of a congregation, you are a collegial body tied together serving God within your community. As people of faith, Christians form a collegial body that is tied together by a shared love of God.
Fascinating, this idea of colleagues and collegial bodies. Fascinating as in spell-binding, with the key notion being one of tying or binding together, because even the word fascinating is based on a Latin term, fascia, which actually refers to a bunch of reeds that are, you guessed it, tied together. In other words, when you are fascinated by something, you are saying that you are, in effect, tied to that object. And why am I so interested in this notion of being fascinated, or tied, to an idea? It’s all because the word religion, according to many sources, has the same root, ligare, or “to tie together” that’s found in the word colleague. So, while colleague means being tied together by a common interest, religion means a retying with something, which in our case, happens to be God.
It’s this common root, this idea of tying, found in colleagues, religion and even in the word fascination, that I find, well, fascinating. As individuals sharing our religion, we are trying to reconnect with God and as a body of folks sharing a common religion, we are colleagues bound together by our common fascination with God. And this, I believe, is very much a two way street. Sure, it’s natural for us humans to seek a reconnection with God, since we clearly need something beyond ourselves. But God shares that same desire, that same fascination with His creation. Yes, there is no doubt that God could make it on His own, but given all that He has done for humanity, it’s pretty clear that God wants to reconnect with us as much as we want to be reconnected to Him.
Fascinating, isn’t it? God and humanity, bound together by a common desire to be tied together and enjoy a permanent connection. And that common desire is one that finds its highest expression in the only one that truly bridges the gap between heaven and earth, Jesus. He’s the one God sent to connect with us in a way we couldn’t miss. Like us, He is fully human; yet He is also fully God, which means that in Him we see a connection between our humanity and God, the one who created us in His own image.
Fascinating indeed. Jesus allows a way to connect to God. He breaks the ropes that bind us to sin and mediocrity frees us to be bound to God’s amazing heart. And through Jesus we are invited not just to come to God as individuals, but as a single community of faith, a single entity tied together by a shared fascination with God. Through Christ we’re not just a club, a team or a committee. Through Christ, we are colleagues within the ultimate collegial body, one that is bound together by our love for God and God’s love for us. Fascinating, isn’t it? At least that’s the way I see it.
July 1
For the past couple of weeks I’ve reflected on the number of keyboards in our Sanctuary, and this week is no different. Next week, I promise, will be, but this week I want to share what my original thoughts were when I gazed upon the myriad of musical instruments that featured black and white keys within our worship space. In many ways, the devices looked the same. For all practical purposes, they are played the same way. But in terms of their final product, each one is very much a unique, standalone device that cannot be replaced by any of its counterparts. The piano is the simplest and purest instrument with a distinct sound and simplicity that makes it versatile and functional in the most extreme circumstances. After all, the thing works even if the power goes out.
Then there’s the organ, which is by far the biggest and loudest device, but also the most limited. Think about it. Today, the organ is limited to churches and arenas. You don’t hear it on the radio. It’s not used for popular TV show theme songs or advertising jingles. You certainly won’t hear a teenager say: “Hey guys! I just downloaded the latest Carlo Curley CD; wanna hear it?” You probably don’t know that Carlo Curley is a world famous organ soloist. So, sure, its a great instrument that blesses our traditional worship service, but beyond the church, organs are a rare breed indeed.
Last, but certainly not least, is the Clavinova, and electronic masterpiece that not only can sound like virtually any instrument, keyboard or otherwise, you can think of, but has the capability of sounding like a whole orchestra, if you know how to program it. And therein lies its greatest fault. With all its possibilities, it takes a very well trained person to get the most out of the thing. So, even though it’s got great potential, we aren’t always able to take advantage of its many wonders and mysteries. Plus, if the power goes out, like our electric organ, our fancy Clavinova is completely useless.
Fortunately, we are rarely without electricity, which means we can use each of those unique instruments as the need arises. That’s the great thing about having them. Even though they look somewhat alike, they each do a different job, with unique sounds and possibilities that help us worship God in a wide variety of ways. Those instruments are also a great example of how God made human beings very similar, yet completely unique. Indeed, we even share many gifts, but each of us differs a bit in the details, providing us with great versatility in how we can serve and love God and one another.
There are lots of preachers, but no two are alike. There are many secretaries, but none are exactly the same. There are many folks in the pews, but they are as varied as the grains of sand on a beach. That’s the wonder and joy I find in humanity. We are alike in many ways and also infinitely diverse. And with all this variety, none of us is replaceable, and each of us are necessary! Each of us is needed to express God’s wishes fully. Each of us is a piece of the puzzle that helps us better understand our creator. And like the three keyboard instruments in St. James sanctuary, each of us expresses the same love and praise for our creator with a unique voice, but one that also compliments the one next to us. In other words, we are each a wonderful, individual expression of God’s creative wisdom that shares enough to keep us together, but is also different enough to make us interesting. At least that’s that way I see it.
June 24
Back in the old days, horses used to pull the ol’ milk delivery wagons. Following the same route day after day, week after week, year after year, it was rumoured that some horses followed the same route even after they and their master had retired. Force of habit; once you’ve done something the same way for a while, there is no escape. You keep doing the same thing over and over again.
Back in the old days, there used to be folks called pioneers. Pioneers had no idea where they were going or what route they were taking to their unknown destination; they simply headed out to see what there was to see, and if it was something worthwhile, they marked the trail so that others could follow them.
These days, I’m something of an old milk horse and a pioneer. Every week I prepare these musings, usually on a Tuesday afternoon, usually in an hour, usually at my desk in the office. That’s the trusty milkhorse. The pioneer comes out in the writing, because its like blazing a new trail as I try to say something interesting, entertaining or educational, in a way that’s new and fresh and worth reading. The trouble is, like many pioneers, I know where I’d like to go, but I don’t get there. A single turn of phrase, twist of logic or shift in focus will cause me to veer off in an unexpected direction, taking me far from where I thought I’d be.
So, last week I started to write about our various sanctuary keyboards and the way they do the same thing differently. However, very early on I found myself on a totally different track, and ended up writing something I did not expect to put onto paper. The writing and ideas weren’t bad, mind you. They didn’t contain some deep dark secret or an embarrassing revelation. They did, however, come as a complete surprise to me; without knowing it, I had wandered onto a new, unexpected path, and despite feeling lost, ended up somewhere that ended up being a good place. Not the place I wanted to be, mind you, but a helpful, entertaining place nevertheless, at least to me.
God gives us such moments of grace all the time. Even though we think we know where we’re going, even though we might have the comfort and security of a milkhorse life, a life that’s steady and secure and productive, we still need the odd pioneer moment, a moment when we head off the beaten track so we can wander into new territory. Sometimes those moments are intentional. Sometimes we choose to break old habits in order to strike out into places we’ve seen on previous journeys, but never took time to explore. Sometimes those moments are imposed upon us when old ways are blocked. Sometimes we realize that the old ways aren’t leading us anywhere helpful any more.
Either way, I suppose what matters most is not where we’re going or how we’re getting there, but why we’re heading out in the first place. The ol’ milkhorse did the same thing day after day without variation, as it helped deliver milk to the community. Pioneers had no idea where they were going, but in their explorations found new places and resources and expanded humanity’s understanding of the world. Sometimes we do the same thing over and over again; sometimes we try new things; sometimes we’re just along for the ride; sometimes we’re the ones breaking new ground; but whether pioneer or milk horse, if we’re hot on God’s heels, we’ll never go the wrong way. At least that’s the way I see it.
June 17
During worship this week, it struck me that we have three keyboard instruments in our worship space. What’s more, on any given Sunday, we’re quite likely to use each and every one of those. It’s not that we are keyboard crazy, or that we’re trying not to offend the folks who donated those music machines, or even that we’re trying to show off. The reality is that our music is so eclectic it benefits from, and indeed pretty much requires, the possession and use of each of our piano, Clavinova (an electronic keyboard) and organ.
OK, maybe we could get by with only one instrument. Many churches do perfectly well with a single organ or piano. But, as our congregation has grown and developed, new needs were met by new instruments, tools or whatever else was required. Sure, we could get by without two of the three instruments, but then we wouldn’t be authentically who we are, which is a group of folks who enjoy music and variety.
And boy, do we have variety. With both a traditional and contemporary worship service each Sunday, our music runs the gamut from tunes written yesterday for folks with a decidedly rock ‘n’ roll taste, to music written centuries ago for people with more classical preferences. Although each of these styles could be performed on a piano, doing them justice requires something a little more specific. That’s why we have three different keyboard instruments. In an effort to honour each style of music we use to worship God, we really need each of the three instruments in our worship space. In other words, nothing less would do given our particular circumstances.
Sometimes I’m stunned and amazed at how hard it is to get that idea across. No, not specifically the need for our piano, clavinova and organ, but the fact that nothing less than our best, or our full commitment, or the use of a diverse, yet similar, group of tools will do. I am especially surprised at how folks who accept no compromise in their work lives are willing to accept second, third or even last place in their faith lives. Sure, it’s fine to give one-hundred percent when at work or at play, but when it comes to God, they seem to believe that close-enough is good-enough. Who needs a church secretary? Why should a congregation worry about making their place handicap-accessible. Heck, why bother with a piano when a Kazoo will do?
I’m glad that God never settles for barely passable in His work. God didn’t send some half-hearted neighbour’s kid to save Humanity. God sent His only son. God doesn’t ask us to tolerate our neighbours as they tolerate us. God doesn’t just offer us half-hearted forgiveness. He gives us the best He can offer, and does so without hesitation, regret or grumbling. The Best in all creation can do nothing less than the Best for all creation.
Ok, I admit it. My congregation has been truly blessed with its three keyboard instruments. At the same time we are challenged by them because they call us to use them to do our best, and offer us no excuse for doing anything less. So yes, I’m impressed by God’s blessing, but I’m even more impressed that God has such high hopes for us. Then again, I know we’re not exceptional, because God asks for nothing but the best from everyone, in every part of life. We just need to respond accordingly. At least that’s the way I see it.
June 10
I like watching Extreme Makeover, Home Edition. It’s a great show with a wonderful message, combining home renovation with good old fashioned helping out folks in need. Every week the Design team assist a family that has reached a dead end or a rough spot that they can’t overcome themselves. The result is not just a new house, but a whole raft of new possibilities for the family that extend far beyond their dwelling place. As if that’s not enough, what I find especially touching, is the way that the Design Team seems to be transformed as well. Every week one or more of the members grows in one way or another, and it’s obvious that it’s been a good week for them.
This week’s show offered a case in point. The Design Team ended their involvement with the family by playing baseball with the family they helped. It was a special game, because it was in a league that the guest Mom had set up specifically for children with mental or physical handicaps. As the day ended one of the Design Team members commented on how it had been the best day of his life. What a touching moment. Truly, everyone was moved by the experience, with the team benefitting as much as the family they had helped. I loved every sweet, sappy second.
So, now, a couple of days later, I’m thinking about the comment made by that one team member. It had been the best day of his life. Now, I’ve watched the show for a couple of years, I’ve seen a lot of happy moments with this guy, and I’m wondering what caused him to say what he did. I wonder what he felt or experienced or saw that made that day so amazing for him. And, as I try to get my head around his comment, I wonder if there was such a moment in my life. Or your lives? Is is possible to have a best day? Can we truly single out one moment that stands out from the rest. And what does that say for the rest of our lives? Is there just one great moment, after which everything goes downhill, or is it possible to have more than one “Best Day Ever?”
I suggest that we are not limited to one “Best Day Ever” if we believe in a loving God who wants only the best for us. I don’t think God wants our lives to reach a climax and then slide down from there. As God’s children, as products of love, grace and mercy, we have endless opportunities to experience best moments, days and even lifetimes ever. Surely, when we make a big mistake and then experience God’s forgiveness and continued love, that must rate as one of the best moments ever. Surely, when we have the opportunity to make a positive difference in a life, that must rate as one of the best moments ever. Surely, with all of the possibilities God offers us to know His love and share it with others, there must be an infinite number of best moments ever.
God did not put us on this earth to suffer miserable, pain-filled lives so that we might deserve a place in heaven. God made us as companions, as friends, as stewards of His amazing creation, and as a source of joy and love for Himself. As if that wasn’t enough, He gave us Jesus, so that we might know Him even more intimately, and never have to worry about this life or the next. Do you know that that means? That means that if we do our best to live in a way pleasing to our creator, then we’re not limited to just one great day in our of time. If we try to live good, Christ-like lives, then every day of our lives can be the “Best Day Ever.” At least that’s the way I see it.
June 3
As an inveterate tinkerer with lots of years of experience, I have developed a keen eye for potential, in both the good and not so good realms. I can spot things that might be useful and identify utter garbage This skill has allowed me to enjoy things that others discarded as being useless or undesirable, and do so at bargain basement rates. The local Value Village and GoodWill store are, to me, mines to be explored, with precious bits of ore just waiting to be separated from the dross. Sometimes it’s like placing a child in a candy store with all the bargains available. At other times, like miner in the gold rush days, I come back empty handed, but satisfied at having at least been on the hunt.
As an example, a couple of days ago I managed to collect an old computer for less than ten dollars. It smelled a little odd, having that unique aroma of electronic components roasted beyond recognition. Ah well, never mind, I could see that the system had a power supply (something very helpful, universal, and virtually indestructible) and the price was right, so why not take a shot? Why not, indeed: it turned out that the computer was perfectly usable, and although somewhat outdated, it will certainly be useful to someone with a really ancient system. All for under ten dollars, and all because I know a bargain when I see one.
Another time, seeing a bargain involved more imagination. Computers come with wee speakers that barely do the job. A nice sound system includes a third, larger speaker to carry the low notes. Such systems are a bit of a luxury for me, but again, Value Village met my needs for under ten bucks. The bargain, however, required an observant eye. Scanning the store for goodies, I noticed a subwoofer, the big speaker I described earlier, sitting by itself. I knew that it would not work alone, so I snooped elsewhere. Lo and behold, I saw the components that would make that subwoofer sing. The folks at Value Village had unwittingly divided a matched set but thanks to my experience, I saw what they had missed, and bought myself a nice little setup for a song.
Sometimes half, if not all of, the battle is knowing what you’ve got, like that forlorn computer system or that set of disjointed speakers. Often we fail to recognize the gifted people around us, the blessed situation in which we find ourselves, or even our own talents and treasures. Thankfully, God knows exactly what He has, and is more than willing to let us in on the secret, if we’re open to listening. If we pay attention, God will help us recognize our hidden gems, those treasures that surround us or fill us, but we can’t see for ourselves. Through folks that know us better than we know ourselves, through His Spirit blowing the cobwebs from our minds, through the guidance of the Bible and the church, God reveals to us what we miss or take for granted.
You’ll be surprised at what’s possible. You’ll be amazed at what gifts lie within you unexplored. You’ll be stupefied at how amazing you really are! All it takes to find out is time in prayer with God, and conversation with Godly people. Who knows what treasures you might find! I do know, however, that without God’s help, they’ll remain hidden, waiting to be discerned, waiting to bear fruit on His behalf. Who better than our creator would know the greatness that lies within each of us? Who better than God can help us live up to that potential? At least that’s the way I see it.
May 27
I was in full regalia the other day, black-robed and red-stoled in order to celebrate a wedding with due pomp and circumstance. As I ran around the church doing various chores thus attired, I imagined myself as a cleric of old, living and working in some self-enclosed monastery. Robes would have been the norm, not an option for a special occasion and folks would know who I was by what I wore. Of course, I would have been able to identify folks the same way. Nobility would have worn finely tailored, stylish clothes, officers bright dress uniforms, and scholars flowing robes and caps. Shopkeepers wore clothes that differed from clerical workers that differed from factory workers that differed from farmers.
Mind you, those outfits wouldn’t have been just for special occasions or work days. Except for nobles or rich folk, most other people would have been pretty limited in their clothing choice. There wasn’t such a thing as work and casual wear. Fashions did not change with the season. You wore what custom, tradition and common sense dictated and you didn’t have much choice in the matter. You probably wouldn’t even know that there were options since books, magazines weren’t that common, pictures or paintings were hard to come by, so, you knew only what you saw in your community, and that’s how it was it for a long time.
Obviously, that’s no longer the rule. Folks may have different outfits for work and play, but off duty, everyone wears what they want. And only certain professions or offices call for unique wear. Policemen and medical personnel usually have specific costumes depending on their jobs, but even there, it’s not always the case, or at least not obviously so. Detectives wear business attire indistinguishable from other clerical workers. Even nurses outfits are often designed to look fairly normal, although you can still tell that they have a certain “look” that sets them apart from patients and other medical staff.
There’s a long history to why such different outfits came into being, and why they are changing or even disappearing with time, a history that is within God’s plan, but not part of it. God only asked priests to wear specific outfits, and only for specific duties. With Jesus’ transformation of the church, those orders became unnecessary. So, other than covering up for modesty’s sake, God doesn’t care what we wear. He knows who and what we are because He made us. And even though society says “clothes make the man” deep down in our hearts, we should know better.
I enjoy wearing robes for special occasions, but I really like wearing very casual clothes most of the time. I like dressing up for a date with Lois, but I also like hanging around with her in sweats and a t-shirt. We know who we are. God knows who we are, and it has nothing to do with our costumes. God only looks to our character, not our costumes. Nothing else matters. That’s where we should be looking, too. Sure, it’s nice to dress up, but fine robes don’t guarantee a lovely ceremony, any more than the perfect wedding dress can guarantee a lifelong union. Only a well prepared Pastor can make a wedding something special, and only a committed, loving couple can make a wedding last a lifetime. Like I said before, its a matter of character, not costume. At least that’s the way I see it.
May 20
It goes without saying that a lot of folks look forward to Mother’s Day. I’m kind of partial to it myself. Even though my own mom isn’t around any more, I am married to the mother of my children and I also happen to like my Mother in law, so there are still many reasons to celebrate. Mind you, not all my reasons are altruistic. One reason I enjoy the celebration is that we usually eat in a restaurant. As much as I love home cooking, eating out has a certain unexplainable charm I just can’t resist. So, I really enjoy Mother’s Day.
That’s not the case with everybody. There are many who don’t love this party. This puts me in a rather challenging position, being a fan myself, and also being encouraged to deal with it, at least a little bit, during Sunday worship. Although not a specifically theological reason to celebrate, God does rather like mothers, so there is no reason not to use the occasion to do a little teaching and encouraging during our Sunday worship service.
Still, great sensitivity is required on my part, and indeed, on everybody’s part. Mother’s day isn’t easy or fun or even important to many people, so somehow their needs have to be carefully considered along with the needs of those who do enjoy the day. That doesn’t mean outright compromise, but care does have to be taken. Words must be carefully chosen, feelings considered, and a gentle touch applied. It’s not an easy job, but it’s not impossible either. It also takes the understanding that you can’t please everybody all the time.
After all, Mother’s day isn’t the only tough day. Christmas can be hard. So can Easter. Any Sunday coinciding with the anniversary of a death or a tragedy challenges many. Sunday worship that deals with evangelism, world peace, or stewardship makes a few people quite uncomfortable. Why, there are any number of reasons for individuals to have a hard time with my preaching or worship in general. That’s just the way we humans are. We have a wide variety of things we like and dislike, and for any given topic, there will be at least one person who gets hurt, takes umbrage, or simply isn’t too pleased.
That’s why I’m thankful that God is the master of forgiveness. I know I might traipse upon someone’s delicate tootsies by mentioning Mother’s day. I try not to, but there are too many variables, and no matter how sensitive I am there might be pain. So I forge ahead, carefully, as sensitively as possible, but also knowing that I might need forgiveness. I do it because If I didn’t try, if I simply avoided any possibility of treading on toes or putting noses out of joint, I would have nothing to say or do.
Every encounter with another human being is a gamble. Mistakes can be made, words misinterpreted, Feelings hurt. Still, we have to try, or else we would have no relationships at all. Think of our relationship with God. I do things that upset my maker. I try to avoid them, but don’t always succeed. So, I could do nothing, and never err, but that would in itself be a huge mistake. So, I celebrate Mother’s day, talk about tough subjects, and generally go about being myself. That’s the best any of us can do. That’s all God really expects us to do. As long as we don’t go out purposely trying to hurt others, we have to do what we can, and realize that if we do mess up, God’s forgiveness will see us through. At least that’s the way I see it.
May 13
The idea of “doing what you wanted to do” came up earlier today. Do what you want to do turned
out to be the motto that helped a parishioner get through a rather tough period in her families life. Clearly, these are powerful and enabling words, words that open the doors to new possibilities of fulfilment and satisfaction. But as much as they are encouraging and helpful, they are also very challenging in a couple of very different respects.
The first thought that came to mind was the question of knowing what to do. Sure, it’s all well and fine if you have a clearly defined plan, but what if there is no blueprint on hand? How can you do what you want to do if you don’t know what that is? Think about it, and we’ll get back to the question in a moment.
The other thought that came to mind was the risk inherent in using the “you” word. Do what you want certainly is empowering, but there’s a danger of one’s you-ness taking precedence over the desires of others. As a certain arachnoid imitating cartoon superhero is wont to say: with great power comes great responsibility. Doing what you want is great, but it has to be moderated by the thought that what you want to do may be what other’s want to do. It also suggests that responsibility for yourself and others takes backseat but they don’t. I would like to climb the Matterhorn, (Everest is over-rated), but I know it’s way beyond my skill and fitness level. So, I want to do it, but won’t.
On the upside, at least I know what I want to do, and what I don’t want to do. Each list is equally long and equally well considered. Mind you, that doesn’t mean how those things will be actually worked out. One of the things I would love to do is to help my current congregation grow stronger and mightier in the Lord than it already is. The trouble is, even though I know what I want to do, I’m not quite sure how to do it. Well, at least I have a few clearly defined goals. I know what I would like to do, and as best as possible, I’m trying to do it. There are, however, quite a few people who really have no clue.
One of the reasons I know what I want to do is that I try to stick close to God. I do my best to listen to Him through the Bible, other helpful books, and the folks I deal with at church or in assorted other environments. As much as is humanly possible, I try to let God lead, without too much back seat driving. Many folks, however, would rather go it alone. God has no place in their lives, and even though they think they know what they want to do, it’s not always what’s best either for them or for their family, friends and co-workers. This is a hard place to be, something I know first hand. When you don’t know what you want to do, you don’t accomplish very much, because there’s not much to do. Instead, you seek direction wherever it may come, and all too often, the directions are unclear, or misleading.
For me, doing what I want to do starts with doing what God wants me to do. Knowing that He loves me, if I follow His lead, I won’t go wrong. Knowing that he loves you, too, there’s no better way to know what you want to do, and to ensure what’s best for you. After all, God knows exactly what He wants for creation, so why should we trust ourselves, when our creator already has the best possible plan? At least that’s the way I see it.
May 6
Waiting for my daughter to be seen by the doctor a few weeks ago (for nothing serious or lasting) I noticed a newspaper article tacked to the wall with the title: Primum non nocere. My latin being just about as good as my ancient Babylonian, I was thankful for the articles translation of the words: First, do no harm. This is part of the oath all doctors take when they are become full fledged, front-line physicians. Primum non nocere; First do no harm.
Doctors were not always the well-trained professionals they are today. In the earliest days of one person caring for another, medicine was art, superstition and science. There was little understanding and even less regulations over the earliest health care professionals. That means there was a lot of unnecessary and inappropriate care, often resulting in the patient being worse off than when the went in for their supposed cure. Some patients even died due to ignorance and incompetence or outright quackery.
Granted, the possibility for negative outcomes still exists. Even with all their training and regulation there are medical professionals who are not up to the task at hand. However, with the vast improvements in knowledge, techniques and medicine, doctors generally do far more good than harm nowadays. But that’s not all there is to it; the prevailing attitude of Primum non nocere, first, do no harm, means that doctors must consider carefully any care they are to provide, and decide whether its appropriate or even necessary.
That phrase started me thinking about how folks deal with one another. What would our relationships be like if we approached every situation with the thought: First, do no harm. Whether meeting a beloved friend, a troublesome co-worker or a complete stranger, wouldn’t things be better if we remembered to say or do nothing that would hurt the other person? I think it would make our dealings with other much better, and perhaps even much holier. Imagine it for a moment. Every time we met with another person, we would both think: whatever happens, I’m not going leave this person in pain; I’m not going to hurt them; I’m not going to crush them; I’m going to do whatever it takes to see that nothing I say or do harms them.
That’s not to say we have to avoid difficult or challenging people. Correcting mistakes or calling bad behaviour to account isn’t excluded by a “First, do no harm” attitude. It only means that when we deal with those tough in a loving way, a way that helps, not hurst. I think that’s how God deals with us. God loves us and provides for us. He challenges us to be the best we can be, and makes sure that we have the tools to live up to His expectations. Sin, however, means that we do get hurt, not by God, but by one another. God wants the best for us, but sin pushes us to think only of ourselves.
There’s an easy remedy: take the attitude “First, do no harm.” This lessens sin’s power by taking away the selfishness it needs and puts us into the minds of our loving God. Sure, He might not have said “First, do no harm,” but I think it implies both the idea of caring for others and “loving your neighbour as yourself,” which is good advice directly from God. Doctors, caregivers, by profession, follow an oath. Those who love God, the ultimate caregiver, follow Jesus, caring for others and loving their neighours as themselves, which can only lead to good, and never to harm. At least that’s the way I see it.
April 29
Every once in a while, it is important to repeat oneself. That is, there are times when something has to be said over again, and maybe even said again. Of course, there are numerous occasions when a previously spoken idea or thought needs to be restated. That’s because repetition is an important part of learning. Ask any school teacher how they teach children to multiply, and they’ll tell you the same thing: get the kids to say the “Times-Table” over and over again, and they’ll learn it in no time. Ask a piano teacher the best way to learn a piece of music and they’ll tell you: get the student to play the piece as many times as possible. Wood workers; baseball pitchers, knitters and most other folks learn their skill the same way: do it and do it and do it until it goes from your head to your hands and becomes an automatic action.
Repetition is also important in communication of all kinds. Advertisers use it to help you keep their product on the tip of your tongue. Politicians use it to focus their constituents and make their position as clear as possible. Law enforcement agencies use it to reinforce rules that should be obvious, but are obviously forgotten or ignored. Repeating our words helps us know what’s important, reminds us of what we need to know, and helps us focus on what matters and what doesn’t.
Sure, repetition can be annoying. It can drive us crazy hearing the same thing over again in rapid succession. It makes us feel like idiots, or gives us the impression the speaker has a very limited range of knowledge or interest. So, like anything else, repetition, can be abused and end up hurting far more than it helps. Used correctly, however, it reinforces lessons, teaches us how to do or say certain things, and reminds us of things that might otherwise be forgotten.
Think of how we pray. How many times have we asked God for the same thing? Every time I exercise, I finish my workout with a heartfelt thank-you, because I love the feeling of accomplishment and the sensation of having worked hard. That means that God has been hearing me repeat myself every day of the week, but I don’t believe that it lessens the impact in any way. It might be the same words, it might be for the same workout, but every utterance is fresh and new and just as sincerely meant as the first time I did it.
Repeated prayers also help us come together with one heart and mind. I don’t know how many times I’ve shared the Lord’s prayer with a congregation, either from the pew or from the pulpit. Yet the effect of the prayer is strong and meaningful every time. Repeating the same words we know that our hearts and minds are together. The content might never change, but that’s fine, because our needs are pretty much the same all the time.
This is true for our personal prayers as well. We can’t give thanks or ask for help often enough. No amount of repetition is too much. All that matters is that every word we speak or think is sincere. Can’t think of anything new to say? Say the old thing again with new feeling. Do you repeatedly use one prayer? Offer it with repeated honesty. Think God is bored of you always asking for things? If it’s what you really need, he’ll never lose interest in your requests. Think I’ve repeated myself enough? As long as you get the message, I’m fine with that. After all, you can’t say true things often enough, especially when it comes to prayer. At least that’s the way I see it.
April 22
There are two distinct schools of thought surrounding relationships. One says that opposites attract; the other posits that like attracts like. I say that both are are needed for true friendship. Take my secretary, for example. We’re polar opposites in many ways. She’s a strawberry blond, I’m dark haired. She’s petite; I shop in the Big and Tall shop. I prefer computers; she still loves to use a typewriter. She’s organized. I, well, I shop in the Big and tall shop. There’s one more difference, the biggest one of all: Janet loves cool weather; I freeze at normal room temperatures. Clearly, there are many ways we differ and benefit from those differences, because Janet and I get along famously.
That’s because these differences make the relationship interesting. We don’t hide or ignore them; we build them into how we deal with each other. Our totally different taste in weather is always a source of humour and conversation. Janet’s administrative skills compliment my needs for a full time administrator, and so it is that we not only like each other, we also work well together precisely because we are opposites that attract.
We also share a number of similar traits: we love technical toys, chocolate and anything to do with airplanes. We are bound by a common joy of making and enjoying music. We are both creative and hands-on people and in all these areas, we prove the fact that like attracts like and we both tend to take care of those around us, sometimes even ignoring our own needs. It’s good we’re both sensitive people because we look out for each other and ensure that we’re not helping others so much that we’re hurting ourselves.
Would I have our relationship any other way? Would it be easier if Janet kept the office windows closed in the winter and I turned on the air conditioning in the summer? Probably, but then Janet wouldn’t be the cool weather loving person she is, and I wouldn’t be the hot weather-loving person I am. Our differences define and shape our friendship as much as our similarities.
That’s true for the way we humans deal with God. Certainly we have many similarities with our creator, because we were designed by God according to God’s own characteristics. Yet many ways we are polar opposites, the greatest differences being that we don’t have God’s wisdom, power or love. We also have the ability of making mistakes, or not doing the right thing, depending on how you look at it, and that is the single greatest dividing line between our maker and ourselves.
Yet the relationship works despite that great difference. God makes it work because of His patience, mercy and forgiveness. And through Jesus, God gives us the ability to be more like Him despite our differences and our mistakes. Christ shows us how humans can be more like God. He ensures our forgiveness when we make bad choices. He reminds us that God is great, almighty and all-knowing, yet still personal and close. In the end, it is the combination of our differences and our similarities help make our relationship with God work in. Made in His image, we are holy, loving beings. But because we can also make mistakes, we can better understand what we’re missing when we don’t act like our creator. In other words, being like our creator lets us do amazing things, while being unlike Him allows us to appreciate His, and our own, Holiness all the more. At least that’s the way I see it.
April 15
It was a strange and unexpected series of sensations: Lighter; less bulky; easier to manouver; much quieter. Yes, the temporary switch back to a conventional, manually powered tooth brush from a battery energized one was something of a revelation. In the month or so I had used the newer, motorized version I had become completely used to the way it worked and felt. It’s weight was no longer a concern; it’s unusual shape and size had been compensated for; even the noise no longer made an impact. But this adaptation took time; the first time I used the thing I noticed how different it was from the strictly hand-powered version. But the biggest thing I noticed was the noise; everything else, seemed irrelevant, even the somewhat awkward bulkiness. Within a week the new, electric toothbrush was my new standard of how such a dental cleaning apparatus should feel and function.
So subtle was this familiarization that when I returned to the unpowered version, I was completely taken aback by how light manouverable it was. It felt strange holding the thing in my hand; it was so light compared to its battery filled counterpart, I had to restrain myself from flinging it about. It was also easier to reach every nook and cranny in my oral cavity. Of course, I’m not likely to switch back. A battery powered toothbrush does a better job of cleaning one’s mouth than the older un-electrified version. There are some advantages to the original, but not enough to get me to go back to them.
Still, it took some getting used to, as was clearly pointed out by the great difference I noticed when switching between the two. And it’s that ability to get used to different things that really struck me that day. Subtly, incrementally, the greater weight of the new toothbrush was compensated for by the growth of new muscle fiber. That’s why the old version seemed so light. At the same time, I found new ways to move the thing around in order to make up for it’s greater bulk, which is why its predecessor seemed so much more manvouverable.
God made us humans extremely adaptable that way. We get used to new situations with remarkable ease when they are something we want. Even when it’s something we don’t really want, we still manage to get used to new or different ways of doing things. This adaptability can’t be an unnecessary feature. Our creator must have given us this talent for a reason, and a quick glance at the world tells us what that reason is.
We are constantly in flux. We age; seasons change; society and our personal situations shift. Change is natural, and so it is natural that we are able to meet with changing demands upon us. Even our relationship with God changes; we grow and mature and get ever closer to Him. We struggle and move away. We get distracted and forget about Him. We change, sometimes for the better, sometimes not. That’s life, who we are, and God accepts us for it. Without change or variation, God loves us, even when we seem unlovable. Of course, he’d prefer it the other way ‘round, and that’s the great thing about change; we are never beyond hope, never beyond turning our lives around, never beyond being exactly who God would like us to be. It’s just a matter of acting the way Jesus would have us do, and getting so used to it, that nothing can change us from that way of life. At least that’s the way I see it.
April 8th
As a movie fan, you’ve probably already assumed that I tend to see a lot of films. Whether they’re first run theatre releases, DVD reissues, Art House retrospectives or plain old TV features, I love watching movies. What you probably don’t know, however, is that I’ve written dozens and dozens of scripts for movies. None have been published, mind you, but I’ve got countless gems just waiting to see the theatrical light of day, or more correctly, the dark of movie time.
There is, however, one rather large problem. You see, despite being some of the most brilliant writing ever produced by any person in this generation, none of the scripts have actually been written down. Adding to the problem is the fact that I can’t even remember all of those incredibly amazing works of art. No, it’s not that I’m suffering from bizarre memory loss or that I have an excessively short attention span; the problem lies elsewhere. The problem is, that all of these glorious scripts were created right after seeing a lousy movie.
After every bad movie I’ve ever seen, and sometimes right in the theatre, I rewrite the script. Plot-lines are adjusted, characters are tweaked, locations modified, special effects improved, production values raised and dialogue refined. The result, in virtually every case, is a far better movie than the one I actually saw. And it’s not just the script or production that gets improved. I also make sure that the actors give a better performance and, if necessary, I recast stars who were not suitable for their role, or capable of pulling it off.
You’ve most likely guessed why I do this. You’ve probably even done something similar yourself after watching a real bomb. We all know what we like and don’t like. When we pay good money for a movie we want to see something worth our time, effort and hard-earned cash. If the evening’s entertainment proves to be a disappointment, it’s only natural to think of ways it could have been better. For me, being both a movie buff and a bit of writer, it’s easy enough to create an Oscar worthy script, especially when the original was a real dog. My grand opus will never get to press, but at least I feel a little better about having wasted my time on a poor product.
God doesn’t give us the opportunity to rewrite our lives if we don’t like the product, or if He indicates he’s unhappy with the way things are going. Whatever we have said or done or been in the past, even in the last few seconds, is forever part of our existence. There is no turning back, no erasing the script, no possibility of a do-over. Our only option is to carry on from where we left off. But while there is no chance of redoing the past, what comes next is where the opportunity for grace arises.
God doesn’t forget our past, but he does forgive it. We can’t undo our mistakes, but we don’t have to repeat them, either. Our scripts are unwritten, ready to be filled in with our next choice or action or word. So even if we haven’t given a stellar performance so far, our next one might be just what God wants. Whether it’s a bit part or a leading role in God’s plans, with a little prayer, a bit of faith, and a lot of forgiveness, we are all stars in God’s eyes. All we have to do is follow the lead of His own star, Jesus Christ. When we act alongside Him, there’s no way we can give a poor performance. At least that’s the way I see it.
April 1st
I’m not quite sure what some folks think of me. The other day some people came into my office and noticed my new stereo set-up. Well, Okay, it’s not exactly new. It’s actually and old car stereo (purchased at the local Value Village) connected to a pair of nice speakers that I found being completely unused in the sanctuary. The result is extremely functional, if not entirely attractive. I tried to explain this to the folks that dropped by, but I’m not entirely convinced that they understood my rationale. I think, instead, they might think I’m really cheap. Or maybe they think I’m quite clever. Or perhaps they don’t think that I’m anything but normal. I’m honestly not sure how to read them.
A few years ago this would have bothered me. I would have worried if I ruined my reputation or perhaps made them think less of me. I would have been concerned that they thought me too eccentric, or too much of a Scrooge. Whatever I might have imagined, it would never have dawned on me to think folks might actually thing I was pretty talented to whip together a useful office sound system out of a bunch of used parts and wires. Of course, that was the old me, the one with little self-confidence and lots of self doubts. Nowadays, I’ve grown into a new attitude for myself, one that takes other’s impressions of me into account, but never lets anyone make me feel less of a person.
That hasn’t been an easy road, and from what I’ve seen, it hasn’t been a very well traveled one, either. In my conversations and encounters with others, I hear lots of folks base their self image on what other’s think, which, sadly, is not always the truth about a person.
The truth about knowing who and what we are is that we alone know ourselves; few people ever know another person completely. And even fewer are equipped to judge anyone but themselves. Still, that doesn’t stop folks from sharing their opinions about their neighbours. More importantly, it doesn’t stop folks from listening to the half truths of others rather than listening to themselves. Instead, even though most people know in their heads that they are good, kind and decent people with little or no cause for guilt, they believe in their hearts what other folks say about them, even if its untrue or hurtful.
That’s not very helpful, and its certainly not what God expects from us. God expects us to know and believe the truth about ourselves, because the truth is that each of us matters, no matter what others have to say. Each of us has gifts to share, without being taken advantage of. Each of us has a place at God’s feet, with no-one being allowed to block another’s view of Him.
Yes, each of us can be a little eccentric. Yes, each of us is capable of doing things that hurt ourselves, our neighbour, and God. Yes, each of us falls short of knowing God as well as God knows us. But it’s also true that God would not have given us life if there wasn’t something to value and enjoy. God would not give us churches and families and friends to build us up when we are down. God would not have given me something supportive to share with you. And if we weren’t worth anything, God would certainly not have sent His Son to redeem us from our sins. So, while it May be true that I’m a bit cheap, somewhat eccentric, and able to cobble together useful items from other people’s junk, it’s also true that God values my eccentricities as much as He values yours. At least that’s the way I see it.
March 25
It was a classic case of apples and oranges, one of those situations where the white sweat socks just don’t go with the slinky red dress, a moment of the eye refusing to believe what the ear claimed it had heard. There it was, plain as day and twice as big: the Pickering Nuclear Plant. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this structure, it’s a nuclear power plant on the northern shore of Lake Ontario that provides electricity to millions of people living in the greater Toronto area. The thing is huge, practically a city in itself, with four monstrous reactor containment units that are pretty darn impressive feats of engineering.
I’m a technology lover, so I tend to notice things like that, especially when its the only thing on the horizon from the window of a boring train ride. It’s also a familiar landmark, one of those things that makes you feel right at home if you’ve grown up in that part of Canada and ridden enough trains past it. Then, suddenly, out of the blue I noticed a large wind powered generator only a few miles, and within clear sight, of the Nuclear Power Plant. It was one of those proverbial apples and oranges moments, a moment in which there was enough similarity between things to have a least some common ground, but also enough of a difference to make comparisons next to impossible.
Nuclear plants generate electricity in a way that pushes the limits of modern technology. They require expensive buildings, dangerous fuels, well-trained manpower and lots of prayer. Wind turbines, on the other hand, are pretty benign and simple things, nothing more than a big wind-driven fan connected to a generator. Clearly the two systems are worlds apart, one dependent on the cutting edge of human knowledge, the other using information that is well over a century old, but they both do the same job. So, while they may come across as apples and oranges in one way, they are nevertheless both in the same family. Yes, it’s kind of like seeing a nice flashy red dress worn with a pair of well worn sweat socks, but overall it’s nothing more than clothing.
My congregation is a classic example of apples and oranges working together in close harmony. Different individuals come at the same task with vastly different approaches, but the job still gets done. Two or three different ideas come together to produce a fourth thought that is better than any of the originals. One church does a number of different things well, without any sense of contradiction or conflict. That’s the way things work at St. James, and in a broader sense, that’s the way God seems to like things.
Think of how our lives are enriched by the diversity of folks that we encounter. Think of the way a family shares genetic material but has vastly different skills and interests. Think of the number of different people Jesus chose to be His disciples. Yes, a few were fishermen, but there were lots of other trades and abilities represented in that original twelve. Apples and oranges united to fish for human beings. Snazzy dresses and comfy socks both clothed the body of Christ fittingly. Contrasting words and images came together to spread the Good News. That variety continues today, and God loves it all, celebrating what we do and the variety of ways we do it, empowering us to mix and match different skills and personalities, and through us, working wonders that are only possible when apples, oranges, bananas grapes and every manner of life join together in His service. At least that’s the way I see it.
March 18
Every once in a while you need to just get away and do something different. For me, it’s my annual trip to Montreal for a week of continuing education at the Presbyterian seminary. Presbyterian College offers a yearly series of lectures that are designed to stimulate and educate, something that every Pastor needs on a regular basis. After all, you might think that God talks to us, on a regular basis so that we don’t get dry and worn out, but more often than not that voice comes in many different human forms, even that of Professors and other educators.
The other way God gets through to me and my colleagues is by putting us together in places like Montreal so that we can share, learn and laugh away the cobwebs and inspire one another to keep going. Since I’ve been doing this for a few years, and I’ve been in ministry for over a dozen years, I know quite a few folks that go every year. What’s amazing about these brief encounters is how quickly we pick up where we left off. In only a moment or two, we’re chatting and enjoying each other’s company as if no time had passed whatsoever. It’s even more amazing to see how easily new bonds are formed as people who were once strangers come together to form true, lasting friendships in only a few minutes.
It helps that we’ve all come together with fairly common backgrounds and interests. It also helps that many of us keep the friendship up, even if only with the odd phone call or email, throughout the year, but that doesn’t explain the phenomenon completely. There is, I believe, an inherent ability in all us humans to connect quickly and meaningfully. More than just a need to be fulfilled, its something that most folks enjoy doing, even if breaking the ice can be more than a little bit frightening. Somehow, God has equipped us with a certain something that makes us interesting and attractive to one another, and that allows us to become acquainted and form friendships regardless of who we are or where we’ve come from.
Perhaps it stems from the simple fact that we are all born of the same heavenly creator, that we are beloved children of God, our father, that we are all brothers and sisters through Jesus Christ. Maybe it’s because we all share a common promise and a common vision, that one day we will be together in heaven, praising our creator and loving every minute of eternity with Him. Or maybe its just the fact that we’re all so interesting to be with, that it’s hard to resist getting close to one another.
Whatever the reason, its a wonderful gift to be able to meet long lost friends and reconnect virtually instantaneously. It’s a joy to meet new folks and quickly feel like we’ve known each other all our lives. And it’s a blessing to think that one day we’ll find ourselves by His side and the friendship will be there right away. In a moment we’ll connect with our heavenly Father and forget everything that happened before that. One day we will know and be known in a way that we can only imagine for now. I’m not quite sure when it will happen, but one thing’s for sure: we can get a foretaste of that joy whenever we reach out to one another in friendship in love. After all why would God have given us friendly smiles if we weren’t meant to share them? At least that’s the way I see it.
March 11
Recently I wrote about how unusual the weather has been in Chatham. Now things have turned around and we are experiencing a much more typical south-western Ontario winter. That means its cold and snowy around here, which in turn means that it’s time to wear the proper protective gear in order to enjoy, or at least survive, going outside.
Thus I found myself wrapped in a heavy coat, fur lined hood and nice snug gloves as I walked to church one day. The weather was brisk, but my outfit was more than enough to keep me comfortable, and as I tend to walk at a fairly brisk pace, even a little too warm. My journey to work takes me over a wee tiny creek, a bit of water no more than 1 or 2 meters wide and perhaps just half a meter deep. Not too much of a water system from a human perspective, but more than enough to accommodate a couple of ducks.
Sure enough, the creek was being used by a couple of Mallards. There they were, a male and a female paddling about, with the male nonchalantly taking a bath while his companion occupied herself in other ways. There they were, just floating around in their feathery costumes and there I was, barely making it to work, stuffed and wrapped like some ridiculously parceled sausage, doing the best I could to stave off the cold by means of exercise and outerwear. Let me tell you that I was most impressed at the little creatures’ hardiness, and the apparent lack of discomfort they felt.
As I paused for a moment to see if those two ducks were really there, and not a figment of my imagination, I couldn’t help but wonder how well equipped they were for the weather, and how poorly equipped I was. Their feathers were enough to keep them comfortable despite the cold. My skin is hardly useful for anything less than a nice, balmy summer’s day. Of course, it probably helped that the creek had not frozen over as it meant that the water must be a much warmer than the sub-zero temperature of the surrounding air. Nevertheless, I thought it an impressive feat.
Mind you, God has provided for us pretty well. While I don’t have the natural protective coating to keep me warm in sub-zero temperatures, God provided we poorly clothed humans with the wisdom to make what we lack. My two ducky acquaintances have no such choice. They must count on what outfits they have to survive the cold weather. You and I, on the other hand, must survive on our wits to get the outfits we need.
Yet as dependent as we are on our wits, we are still not self-sufficient. Our clothing and our food is something we can manage for ourselves. But in order to be complete human beings we depend on God. Without God we can be as resplendent as the most gorgeous peacock on the outside, while remaining ugly on the inside. Without our God we might have nice full bellies after dinner, while our souls are empty and lifeless. Without our God, we might be invigorated by a brisk walk on a cold day, but remain totally lifeless spiritually.
Are you naked on the inside? Is there a deep hunger within you? Do you feel a soul-deep emptiness? Don’t worry. Don’t panic. Open your heart to God, and He’ll see to it that you will get what you can’t provide for yourself. At least that’s the way I see it.
March 4
I often tell folks that believing in God allows humans to get a different perspective on things. When we look at things from our human level, the best we can hope for is to see each other eye to eye. But if we have God in our lives, then we can see things from the perspective of our creator, which means we can see each other the beautiful, wonderful, lovable people that he first made in Adam and Eve. In other words, our human perspective sees only part of the human picture, and not always the best part. The Godly perspective, on the other hand, lets us see all humanity, and know that it is all meant to be good.
One of the things implied in my assertion is that we can also see ourselves through God’s eyes, but that’s something that’s harder to share. You see, if we look at ourselves honestly, it means realizing something about ourselves that can be difficult and embarrassing. To see ourselves from God’s point of view means accepting the fact that we are beautifully and wonderfully made. From God’s point of view none of us is unworthy. None of us is unimportant. None of us is too shy. None of us is too impolite. None of us is too petty. None of us is unlovable.
God sees us not for who we think we are, or even for who others think we are, but for who He made us to be. Unfortunately, we don’t always see ourselves that way. For whatever reason, we have a hard time seeing that we are lovable and beautiful. We can’t understand that our gifts are desirable, if we can even see that we are gifted. I don’t know why, but somehow it’s very hard for us to see ourselves as God made us.
At least that’s the truth without God in our lives. But when God is present, we have the eyes by which to see ourselves as we are and that’s a vital, almost desperately needed gift. I’m always amazed at how many wonderful people I meet who simply can’t see themselves as being wonderful. But when we step outside our human box and climb on God’s shoulders, I can help them realize for themselves what wonders God sees in them. It’s not always easy. It can be quite a challenge to break free from our distorted self-image. It can be unbelievably painful to let go of the hurt and pain that causes us to belittle and dislike ourselves, but it’s very much worthwhile. After all, why live with the pain of a low self image when God made us into such amazing beings?
Maybe you’re not in that group. Maybe you have a healthy self image, and that is a blessing in itself. But if you’re among the many that don’t think you have much value, or that you have no gifts worth sharing, or that you are simply here to make others feel good, think again. Remember that you were made in God’s image. Remember that God made you to be loved. Remember that God made you as a blessing for Himself and His creation.
Step out of your human limits for a moment. Imagine yourself standing on God’s shoulders, or looking through God’s eyes. Take a look at yourself and see how wonderfully you have been made. Look deep inside your soul and see the beauty that lies within. Look within your heart and see the lovability that God has put there. See yourself for the wonderful creation you are, see how you have been fashioned with love and grace, and you will never look down on yourself again. At least that’s the way I see it.
February 25
Long distance communication has been part of human life for as long as we’ve occupied this planet. From the first moment Adam cried out to his wife about where he can find a pair of clean fig leaves (at which point she yelled back, there aren’t any, because you never put them in the laundry, dear...) to the latest text message from a husband asking where his wife had packed the clean socks (to which she replied, there aren’t any, because you forgot to start the washing machine, dear...) we have been trying to keep in touch from both great and long distances.
This long distance communication doesn’t come cheaply or easily. Yelling across great distances is hard on the voice. Using fires to mark safe ports from the shore takes a great deal of firewood. Text-messaging requires rockets putting satellites into space and electricity to power the cell-stations. And it’s not easy, either. Long distance messages often have to be coded, because you can’t look into a person’s eyes to get the full message. The code might be as simple as one fire burning to mark a safe spot, while two fires close together mark the danger zones. Sometimes the coding is more complex, as is the case with the numerous flag positions used in semaphore, the code that was once used for sending messages between ships.
Coding messages has the advantage that it lets you send complex ideas in a fairly simple manner. Take the example of the fires marking safe or unsafe shores. It’s pretty easy to learn, and it transmits a pretty important message. But you have to know the code. You have to know that one fire is good while two fires are bad. However, if you then go to a place where firewood is scarce, and they warned you about dangerous waters uses as little of that precious commodity as possible, your first visit might be troublesome. After all, it’s probably too late for you to realize they save wood by using only one fire to warn you about the rocks you just found with the bottom of your boat.
If you survived that first encounter, you might then run into a second coded challenge when you try to use their text-messaging system. Sure, at home it’s no problem because your spouse or parents pay the bills and give you your cell phone. But that phone might not hook into the system you’re visiting. They might have passwords and security in order to ensure that only paying customers get on board. So even though you might speak their language, and you certainly understand their safe and dangerous water signals, you might be in the dark as to all of their long distance communication system.
There is, however, one long-distance system that even the least technically savvy person can use. There is one way to cover the whole universe with as little energy as it requires to form a breath. That system is prayer, the direct-connection between God and humanity that is code and cost free. It is a no charge channel that is open 24/7. The language is what you speak from the heart. The cost is a few moments to focus on God. And the rewards are beyond imagination.
God is listening and God is ready to talk to you. God would like to make a difference in your life. Whether it’s a warning to stay away from dangerous waters or a call to come closer, God is just a prayer away, listening, waiting for you to let Him know you’re on the line. At least that’s the way I see it.
February 18
It may seem strange for me to say, since I am a true lover of warmth, sunshine and tanning, but I am very happy to have seen the snow and felt the cold weather these past few weeks. It had been a very strange winter up until their arrival. Actually, it wasn’t much of a winter at all. It was more of a prolonged autumn. At least it was until a companion noticed a few daffodils poking their heads through the ground. Then it just seemed that we had skipped winter altogether and had moved directly from the fall into spring. Very strange weather indeed: not very cold; not very wet; but very, very weird. (At least until a couple of days ago!)…jlh
That’s why I’m not too displeased at the change in the weather. Finally, almost a month late, we’re into the official meteorological conditions expected for this most blustery and annoying of seasons. Finally, the ground is frozen solid. Finally, the temperatures are where they should be (even though I dislike them being there!) Finally, we have some snow on the ground. These are all good signs, even for a true summer person like myself.
After all, no matter what I may think, we need the winter. There are an untold number of reasons from a pure environmental point of view. God planned the seasons to be just as they are. Each one plays a vital role for every living being on the planet. Even winter, with all it’s cold, snow, ice and more cold plays its part in maintaining the circle of life. It’s absence, or at least it’s imperfection, means that all life would suffer, that the balance of nature might be thrown off, that things would not be good for human, animal or plant life.
There are also certain emotional and financial considerations to this particular time of year. A lot of folks depend on the cold weather for their livelihood. Many others, although not necessarily me, depend on the cold and the snow for their entertainment, whether it’s skating on Ottawa’s Rideau Canal, or schussing down the mountains in Whistler, British Columbia. Without the right weather conditions, there would be a lot of very unhappy people suffering through winter, as opposed to folks like me who suffer through it precisely because of those climactic conditions that give others so much joy. Yet now I’m not going to complain so much. I know in my heart and my head that we need winter. Missing it would not be a good thing, so I now appreciate the cold and the snow a bit more because of the odd start to winter this year.
If only folks could learn a similar lesson about missing a proper relationship with God. If only they could experience a true Godly drought, a situation that allows them to realize just how much God does for everyone, whether or not they believed. I certainly wouldn’t want folks to suffer because of it, since there is already pain without such a connection. But without knowing what you’re missing, without being aware of what’s possible, without realizing that there’s pain it’s hard to know what’s lacking and what is not.
It’s my prayer that folks don’t let things get that far in their relationship with God. Hopefully someone will open their eyes to the possibility of knowing Him better. Maybe they’ll have a gentle reawakening. Or, perhaps, someone like me or you might help them see what’s possible, and they’ll see for themselves what God means to them. And trust me, it’s a lot easier appreciating God’s place in our lives than it is for me to like winter. At least that’s the way I see it.
February 11
It is said that a great artist can see the creation that is waiting to be revealed from within their unfinished medium. The sculptor can see the statue deep within the raw chunk of marble; a photographer sees the magnificent image amidst the studio lights and paraphernalia; the writer knows the story that resides with the ink. This is a wonderful gift. For those like myself that are not as artistically inclined it is a marvel to see an artist remove the unnecessary bits of marble to reveal that beauty within. Yet it must also be tremendous responsibility. To be entrusted with exposing the wonder one sees without ruining it in the process must be very nerve wracking. One small slip, a moment of inattention, a poorly executed cut, and the vision is marred forever.
So there must also be a choice at some point. At some point the artist must decide whether or not they are up to the task. The canvas lies before them. The paints are spread upon the palette. Is the artist ready to reveal the image in her mind? Is this the moment to commit paint to canvas and expose to the light of day what has only been a mental image? Is it up to her to free the vision, or will the honour fall to somebody else? It can’t be an easy decision, but at some point, a choice must be made even if it means taking a risk.
I find that preparing worship isn’t such a risk anymore. Writing these little thoughts is not too painful. They form part of my life, part of my being, so I share them easily, although the process isn’t always that simple. Even when I feel dry, when I don’t see the finished product in my head, I set my thoughts down. I find it riskier not to try than to wait. My choice is to commit to something imperfect rather than waiting for the perfect inspiration to arrive. If I don’t, I risk losing the seed that might lead to something great. Sometimes the danger is even greater: sometimes the danger is wasting whatever talent I may have by not doing anything at all. It’s certainly easier. I can’t do anything wrong if I don’t do anything at all. But is that a reasonable request?
And what about you, my friend? Where is your art? Oh, you’re not an artist, you say. Couldn’t paint a canvas to save your life? Can’t slice a hot dog, let alone carve a piece of marble? Can write a laundry list but not a few words of poetry. So you’re off the hook, right? No risks for you; no beauty to reveal, no truth to expose, nothing to do but sit back and relax, or at least do what it is that you normally do? And is that not taking a risk? Aren’t there choices in doing or not doing, saying or not saying, going to work or taking the day off?
God certainly didn’t make everybody an artist, but He certainly gave us skills, even if they seem hum-drum. God also gives us visions, gives us ideas of how to use our skills to do great things on His behalf. I bet that you can see things that need doing, and that you can also see that you’re just the one to do them. But it’s risky, isn’t it? There might be mistakes. There might be costs. It might not get done the way you have envisioned it, but it’s even riskier to have a God-given gifts and idea and do nothing about them.. Still, it’s there, isn’t it? An idea; a dream; something wonderful; something beautiful; something you know you can do, even if it seems a bit frightening. It’s your choice. God gave you the talent and the vision, but its up to you to bring them together and make your dream a reality. Yes it’s a big decision, but if you’re doing if for God, you can’t go wrong trying. At least that’s the way I see it.
February 4
I am in the midst of an inconvenient but not too miserable cold. While I am admittedly not the greatest patient in the world, I am nevertheless trying to whine as little as possible, and do as much as I can without having to actually interact with parishioners. The last thing I need is to be spreading my germs around making others sick. And it’s that thought of germs that has me thinking today. Germs, (yes, I know, I should more accurately call it a bacteria or virus) are not very big things. In fact, they are so small as to be invisible to the naked eye, and in the case of a virus, invisible to a lot of normal microscopes as well.
So, here I am, one hundred and twenty plus kilos of gorgeous hunk laid low by a miniscule life-form too small to see, let alone fight. It’s rather amazing, isn’t it? Virus and bacteria have the power to debilitate, and in some cases even kill, full size human beings and other living creatures. Absolutely imperceptible to any human sense, their effects are nevertheless felt, sometimes very acutely, in even the most insensitive patient.
Tiny living things aren’t the only ones with major effects on big things. A speck of dirt in the wrong place can also wreak havoc. Say, for instance, you’ve just cleaned the floor, and something small but visible lands on it. You can be sure that you’ll notice it, and that given all your hard work, it will seem as if it’s the biggest mess you’ve ever seen. Or, if that speck of dirt happens to get onto a CD or DVD, it might well cause the whole disc to be unplayable,
And then there are those tiny invisible things that might not wreck our bodies or ruin clean floors, but that can undermine even the strongest soul. Those things, words or actions, are the things that we do to or with one another. Quite often a huge problem will have at its root nothing more than an ill considered comment or a tiny misstep. Sometimes it might even be as small a thing as not being thankful or even acknowledging a person’s presence. As a pastor having worked in a couple of small communities, I know how important it is to notice folks when I’m out and about. Even the briefest of greetings is enough to keep folks happy if we run into each other. But I know from painful experience that if I fail to say “Hi” if I see the other person, that might be enough to get me into their personal naughty column.
That's pretty petty, you might say, but try telling that to the person you’ve accidentally ignored. To them that tiny misstep feels like you’ve stomped all over them. It’s just human nature. We are sensitive to things both great and small, capable of being torn down by the smallest unkind word, or completely reinvigorated by the smallest loving gesture.
It’s nice to know that God is not nearly that sensitive. Yes, we can get God upset when we blow it, but whether it’s a wee small fault or a great glaring goof-up, God will never be crushed. We will never lay God low with our pettiness. God will remain true to us, and if we ask, will even forgive us, no matter how great the mistake. Whatever the sin, God has enough mercy and grace to cover us. Never, ever will He be hurt to the point that He will give up on us because His love is more than enough to make up for all our shortcomings. All it takes is a tiny “I’m sorry” from us and for God to forgive even the greatest of our sins. At least that’s the way I see it.
January 28
The other day I finished a little project that had been waiting for some time. It’s not a really big thing, and as I played with it, I thought of how much I like tinkering. Then, I realized that I had probably never tinkered in my life. Yes, I’ve played with electronics, I’ve built things out of wood, used paper for crafty purposes, even taken advantage of junk for constructive purposes, but never have I actually manufactured anything out of tin, which is what a tinker really does. In other words, for all my handiness, I am not, nor have I ever been, (but yet might be one day) one who truly tinkers.
Is that too fine a distinction? Am I being a bit too picky about my choice of words? Certainly you know what I mean when I say I like to tinker. It’s a word all we handy-folk like to use in reference to our love for fiddling with things. But the reality is very different. Looking at the word for what it truly means, very few fiddlers are actually tinkerers at all. Come to think of it, we aren’t fiddlers, either. At least I can say with absolute certainty that I’m not, because I have never, ever been able to play the violin, which is what a true fiddler does.
Now, I might appear to be getting a little overly selective with the words I’m using. perhaps it’s a bit of overkill in stressing out so much over what I call myself. But I have good reason to act this way. After all, in my business, which is based on words, I have to make sure that I’m understood, and I have to understand others, as well. That means that I have to be very precise in the words I use so that I can say what I need to say. I also have to make sure I listen very carefully to what folks tell me, in order to make sure I know what they’re really trying to get across to me.
After all, as you can see by our frequent misuse of words like tinker, fiddler and hacker, things don’t always say what they mean. On the other hand, those words have come to mean something completely different in today’s language. Everybody knows that I’m not referring to their original meanings when I describe myself with them. North Americans have adapted those words for their own specific purposes.
But that doesn’t leave us off the hook. God knows that what we call ourselves and what we actually are can be two different things. Many folks call themselves faithful, many folks consider themselves loving, but all have a hard time applying it to others in their lives. Many folks think they are ill-equipped to serve their creator, when in reality they are more than capable.
It’s all a matter of not only saying what we mean, but doing it as well. God never makes promises He doesn’t keep. And whatever we think or say about ourselves, God knows the truth about us. After all, he spoke us into being, so He should know. Somehow, we have to find out the truth for ourselves. Picking our words carefully is a good start, because when we say what we mean, it’s much easier to live up to expectations. The other part of the equation is understanding what God is saying to us. That requires careful attention, but no special vocabulary, since God usually speaks to us in ways we can understand. Whatever our heavenly creator wants you to be, he’ll find a way to get it across. All you have to do is listen . At least that’s the way I see it.
January 21
It has, perhaps, been a long time coming. On the other hand, this may be a total shock. It might be the result of some careful long term planning. Or it might be the product of a sudden, overwhelming sense of frustration. Or, it could just be that my wife said so. For whatever reason, I have a momentous announcement to make. Something stupendous; something immense. something tremendous; And it’s big, too. So here it is: I have jumped ship and abandoned the PC purists. I am now a Mac user, and proud of it.
Now, for some of you not too familiar with home computers, this might not seem like a big deal. It might seem, using a car analogy, like going from Ford to Chrysler, or maybe even as far as switching from domestic to imported. But trust me, in the computing world, it’s more like deciding to change your mode of transportation from gas to wind power. Yes, it’s that big a deal. It’s not just a name brand change. It’s not a choice between one place of origin or the next. It’s a complete shift in how you want your computing to be done.
While the details of the differences probably don’t interest anyone but diehard techies, the emotional ones might, so I’ll share my story with you. It’s a matter of becoming so frustrated with PCs that when it came time to upgrade my hardware, it was a good time to migrate over to Macs. Their reputation for reliability, ease of use, and versatility with graphics and multi-media were all very appealing factors. The fact that some trusted friends also recommended this particular system didn’t hurt either. So, the long and the short of it is that I finally become frustrated with the “other” way of doing things; that, and the fact that my wife finally became frustrated with my frustration. Knowing when to follow your wife’s “advice” is a great marriage tip, gentlemen.
We humans all share this ability to change ships midstream, shift one’s focus on the run, or happily jump from one paradigm to another. We are faithful to our jobs, a way of doing things, a particular style of food, only as long as they meet our needs, or aren’t too frustrating. Thankfully, God doesn’t work that way. Sure, God gets frustrated, has decided “annoyance factor” limits and is only willing to take so much, but God’s choice is never to leave or abandon us. God will never choose, say monkeys over humans. God will not create a new life form on Alpha Centauri. God will not decide to just abandon the whole life-form thing and focus on some other activity.
No matter how hard we push, how far we stray or how annoying we get, God remains faithful and true. But can the same be said about us? Seems like a lot of folks are jumping ship, finding other pursuits, other gods, other things to keep them occupied. That’s not healthy. It’s not like my choosing a Mac over a PC. Sure, God can seem frustrating but imagine how much we must frustrate God, who nevertheless remains faithful, despite causing Him grief, and the fact that we don’t benefit God that much. In comparison God frustrates us much less, and benefits us much more. So why anyone would switch is beyond me; life is frustrating enough. Why add to the misery by abandoning our only hope for a better, much less frustrating life? Choose between God or no God? That’s a no brainer. At least that’s the way I see it.
January 14
I live in a manse, a house provided by my congregation, that isn’t too far from the church. Within ten or so minutes of easy walking, I can get to work. If, however, I am really pressed for time, I can take a shortcut through my neighbour’s property, (having received carte-blanche from them to do so...) and be in my office in less than five minutes. That’s an especially handy bonus when the weather is rough or I have my hands full of stuff.
This morning, being in a rush, I took the shortcut, and encountered Sandy, the neighbour’s golden lab. Sandy is a very nice dog, a gentle creature that only takes notice of me if I’m carrying a particularly savoury lunch. Other than that, Sandy could care less about what I’m doing. This particular morning, however, Sandy made her presence known in a very different way from your normal woofing canine. This cold winter’s morning, Sandy had chosen the sunniest, brightest, warmest spot in the yard, causing her light beige fur to glow like a beacon in the dark. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t do anything. She just sat fully upright, basking in the power of the sun, clearly enjoying the warmth it offered to fend off the chill in the air. Like I said, she seemed to glow there, causing me to take notice of her the same way I might have if she had barked out loud. I’m not sure what stood out more: Sandy’s bright fur or her obvious joy. Maybe it was a bit of both, but certainly, she caught my attention.
Actually, what stood out the most was Sandy’s uncanny ability to pick not only the brightest, warmest spot on the property, but also the one place where she would be noticed the most. There she sat, almost defying me not to see her. Glowing as if lit from within, proud and erect, and with an unabashed gaze in my direction, this silent creature very clearly wanted my attention, and was rewarded accordingly. Mind you, it wasn’t much of a greeting from me. Not being a pet fancier, I didn’t gush over the “cutesy wutesy wittle doggie,” but I did let her know I had noticed her and that she was looking quite fine today.
That kind of silent, obvious, presence, is how God is revealed to humanity. God is not one to force people to pay attention. God speaks with a silent authority that demands we notice without having to twist our necks. God does not jump around and yell so that we’ll throw Him a sideward glance. Instead, to those willing to pay a little attention, He’s right there, in plain sight, waiting to be noticed. However, unlike the mutual silent greeting Sandy and I offered each other, God does a lot more when we finally deign to look in His direction.
Sandy just wanted to be noticed. God wants to be included. Sandy wanted to enjoy the warmth of the sun. God wants to warm us up. Sandy doesn’t have much to offer other than companionship. God offers us everything we need and more. Sandy would have gotten bored eventually. God is eternally patient. Sandy can take or leave me. God can’t forget any of us. No matter how long it takes, no matter how small the acknowledgement, God waits for each of us to come to Him. And while many of us struggle to see our Creator, it’s not for lack of God’s trying; sometimes it’s just that we can’t see what’s right in front of us, no matter how obvious. At least that’s the way I see it.
January 7
As we make our final exit from the festive Christmas Season, I am sure that a few people have been severely traumatized by recent events. No doubt there are a few sad souls who were struck down cruelly by that most awful phrase: “Some Assembly Required.” Of all the sentences in the English language, of all the unkind things that can be said, of all the despicable behaviours known to man, this one terrifying little sentence surely is amongst the most horridly frightening, at least as far as fathers and hi-tech gifts are concerned.
Some Assembly Required. Not a promise, but a threat, a warning, a flat outright statement of war for those whose left thumbs number greater than one. Those awful words have reduced many a fine person to a shattered shell requiring years of intensive therapy before the tears finally stop. They have spawned more terrified looks from innocent children seeing their fathers snap when tab B snaps off the moment it is finally, finally, FINALLY, DARN IT ALL!!! inserted into slot A. They have resulted in any number of shattered relationships when one spouse quietly and firmly suggests that, “Seeing as how you’ve wasted the entire week and bent all of my best knives, why don’t you read the &#%^&* INSTRUCTIONS, darling?”
Look closely at the trash left by the curb the day after Christmas. Along with the shredded wrapping paper, torn packages, mangled wreaths and lumps of fruit-cake, there, buried deeply out of sight to avoid embarrassment, you will find partially assembled gifts that outlasted their receiver’s skill and attention. Not that I’m speaking from personal experience, mind you. It’s just that I noticed a number of items thrown out that were painted to look old and worn, but were, in reality, victims of the dreaded combination of “Some Assembly Required” and “Don’t worry honey, I’ll have it fixed in a cinch.”
Fortunately, I’ve been blessed with enough skills to get me through the most illogical instructions, and enough sense to know when to ask my wife for help. And, if I’m really puzzled, I can always get one of the kids to do it for me, although given my own children’s not entirely technical aptitude that it’s usually somebody else’s kids. I’ve also learned that actually reading the instructions before hand, in addition to giving myself lots of time, usually results in far fewer trips to the emergency room or the cookie jar.
Some Assembly Required, the bane of the most generous human gift giver, but not of God, the ultimate giver of good things. God’s best present came pre-assembled, ready to go the moment Jesus wailed Mary and Joseph to attention. No Assembly Required, as far as He’s concerned. His will is that of every human being, if every human being were to actually do their creator’s will. His joy is that of every living person, if they would only look to heavenly gifts rather than earthly ones. His success is that of every woman and child, if they were only to do what’s right rather than what feels good.
No Assembly Required. Careful attention, yes. A lot of love, yes. A whole bunch of faith, definitely. A bunch less “me, myself and I”, an absolute must. But other than following a few simple guidelines, that’s all you need to enjoy the greatest gift anyone could ever receive. At least that’s the way I see it.
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