About the Pensive Pastor
It's not about public recognition, fame or anything else. The ideas and reflections published in this blog are all about connecting real life with real faith. It's something I've been doing for the past five or six years in order to share my faith with my congregations in a little more personal way, one that allows a little more freedom than the traditional Sunday sermon.
Over time, the folks in the pews have grown to enjoy these reflections, and so they've been sharing them with their families and friends beyond St. James Presbyterian. Now I'm offering them on-line with the hope that you can enjoy them as well.
To find out more about me, check out my profile, or click on this link: http://www3.sympatico.ca/jandls/
Your Brother in Christ
John A. Giurin
The Pensive Pastor Archive for 2009
The Pensive Pastor April 19th, 2009
We are in the midst of a season of waiting. Toronto-born folks like myself can’t wait for winter to finally and officially be over so we can stop hiding inside and get outside. Real Estate agents are waiting for the temperature to rise so the temptation to visit Open Houses will grow. Meanwhile, gardeners are waiting for the late night frosts to stop and the ground to dry up enough (but not too much) so it can be worked without becoming a muddy mess.
While waiting, we have a couple of options. There is the classic “Bear Approach” which involves lots of sleeping and very little activity. There is the “Beaver Style” which means doing lots of little busy-making things that don’t do much other than fill the time. There’s the “Ant Method” which is to do lots of good practical work that will pay off in being good and ready for when the season finally arrives, and has the side benefit of driving everybody else nuts. Then there is the “Ostrich Way,” a technique that depends on pretending that nothing is out of the ordinary, just do what you do normally, even if it means wearing shorts and flip-flops mid winter. Finally, there is the “Chameleon Path” which is actually changing to meet the needs of the season, rather than simply waiting for something more pleasant to happen.
Each choice has its merits and demerits. There are advantages and disadvantages to all of those ways of dealing with waiting, but some are clearly more wanting than others while others have their plusses. Take the “Bear Approach” and “Beaver Style” for example. Sure, it’s nice to hide for a while, and yes, there’s always busy work to do, but neither technique does anything other than to make the hours of waiting seem shorter. The “Ant Method” and “Chameleon Path,” on the other hand, are more useful because they do something with meaning than simply whiling away the time.
Christians live in a perpetual waiting-state, we remember all the better at Easter. With each remembrance of Christ’s resurrection we recall the fact that we are waiting for His Second Coming. One day, Jesus will come back in glory and power to establish a new kingdom under His rule. It will be a wonderful, time for all who have waited patiently for him...
...or so we’d like to think.
The time we spend waiting for Jesus’ return is a big question mark for how we’ll live. We can choose any number of techniques, such as those suggested above, or others of our own choice. But not all of those techniques will lead to an equally wonderful time for those waiting for the great comeback. Those familiar with the “Bear Approach” or the “Beaver Style” will no doubt be disappointed when the new Kingdom is established. Meanwhile, those who have followed the “Chameleon Path” or the “Ant Method” will probably fair pretty well upon Jesus return. It’s all a matter of what we do while we wait. If we just waste time, I don’t know that Jesus will have much time for us. If, on the other hand, we do the kinds of things He would do Himself, and live knowing that He’s already with us through the Holy Spirit, He’ll have all the time in the world for us when He finally sets up His eternal Kingdom. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor April 12th, 2009
My friends, it is with the utmost respect that I would urge you to read the following article with caution. Those of you with a weakened constitution might consider turning your eyes away to other, safer alternatives. If you are prone to heart palpitations, fainting spells or dizziness, please read no further. If you are in the least bit squeamish or otherwise of weak stomach, find a safer, more gentle article to peruse. For the rest of you of iron wills and fortified constitution, read on at your own risk and consider yourselves warned.
Consider yourselves warned, because today I must address the issue of earthworms, those curious, slimy denizens of dirt and soil beloved by gardeners, fishermen and little boys with magnifying glasses. Not that I know anything about the latter item myself, it’s simply something I have heard told about. At least that’s my story.
Ah yes, earthworms. Fascinating creatures. They are totally at home beneath the ground, moving through the dirt and loam with the greatest of ease, tunneling like they were born to it, helping to enrich the soil far better than anything other than good old cow based fertilizer can do. Remember you were warned!
What really fascinates me about earthworms, and what prompted this pensive bit of reflecting, is their propensity for leaving their earthly home when the skies release their watery offerings. Just the other day, as I walked to work during a light misty rain, I was hard-pressed not to step on the poor creatures that were making their way across the sidewalk. I also couldn’t help but wonder why in the world they would make such a risky trek. What on earth (again, you were warned, and that includes having to deal with bad puns) were those little fellas thinking, leaving the security and darkness of their traditional home for the great unknown, and virtually impenetrable expanse of flat concrete? Couldn’t they just go underneath? Is the earth that much browner on the other side of the pathway? Or is it one of those rhetorical/joke questions, much like asking why the chicken crossed the road, only slimier?
That question leads me to a big question of faith and our relationship with God. Hanging out with our Heavenly Father, or Jesus, or in the presence of the Holy Spirit is the easiest, most natural place for us, kind of like what earth is to an earthworm. So why, oh why, do we wander out into the sidewalk? What’s the appeal? What’s on the other side of the cement that could possibly better that our place with God? I’m not really sure. Think of it as a variation on the old chicken joke: Why did the Christian cross the sidewalk? To get to the other side! But the other side is away from our heavenly Father and, rumour has it, that side is rather warm and distinctly uncomfortable.
All joking aside, friends, I know there are lots of reasons for us to leave the safety and security of our relationship with God; the only trouble is, none of them are good reasons, especially when compared to the reason I stick with Him the way I do. After all, there’s no other place a worm like me could possible feel so loved, accepted and useful. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor April 5th, 2009
I am a technology buff. I’ve said it before, and I’ll happily bore you with the facts again, I love things that go buzz, whirr or click. Whether it’s an “old school” computer with lots of glowing tubes and clicking relays, a modern Formula One race car stuffed with high tech gadgets, or a well designed, highly efficient and ergonomically satisfying can opener, I’m going to have a good look to see what it does and how it does it. For all my love of technology, however, I’m not the kind of guy that has to go out and buy the latest and the greatest mechanical marvel. Part of it is a budgetary reality, in that I just don’t have that much money and part of it is a practical concern, in that I don’t have the room for the kinds of things I’d like to have. There simply isn’t enough room in the house to store a fully functioning steam locomotive.
There is yet another reason I’m not about to rush out and buy all the latest toys and gadgets that hold me in awe and wonder, one summarized by three words: “Automatic Pizza Machine.” Yes, believe it or not, some technical genius in Italy has invented, and is marketing, a machine for making a pizza from scratch in just 3 minutes. Yes, it’s a wonder of machine and kitchen technology. Yes, it’s pretty cool to watch. Yes, it produces one of my absolute favourite foods. But it’s not right. Sure, it’s convenient, but that’s not what pizza is about. Pizza, like so many other foods, should be carefully prepared by hand, not by machine. Sure, one might argue that the pizzas prepared by the underpaid workers in pizza shops aren’t true works of art, but at least they are made with every best intention by real folks who are trained to make those circular culinary delights the way they should be made. Machines are great, but they have their place, just not in pizza shops.
Like a well prepared pizza, one lovingly produced from scratch and savoured in peace and comfort, our faith is something that can not be met by short cuts or automation. Priests and ministers might pray for their people in worship, but that production line process is no substitute for one’s personal conversation with God. Well run mission organizations might do a wonderful job of reaching the lost and the hungry, but each of us still needs to find a personal connection and contribution to the lonely or the starving in our community. Cd’s, records, MP3 players or the radio might be a great way to hear beautiful music and make a joyful noise to the Lord, but He still loves to hear each of us sing His praises, even if they are sung with voices not fully appreciated by other people.
In other words, our own personal contributions and efforts can never be replaced by the organizations, tools or technologies available to the faithful. Sure, the priest’s prayers might be more well thought out, but they aren’t your own honest, heartfelt thoughts. Mission teams might touch thousands, but it’s not your hands letting one person feel the love in your heart. Professionally performed music might be amazing, but it’s not you that God’s hearing. Yes, machines have their place in our lives. Yes, faith based leaders and organizations have a place in our spiritual lives. But the true core of faith, the love and care that define our relationship with our heavenly Father, must come from our hearts; anything else is but a pale imitation. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor March 22nd, 2009
I’ve just watched a terrifying-comical-awesome video of a complete bozo narrowly escaping death. This genius from the narrow end of the gene pool thought it was a good idea to ignore the safety warnings and lowered bars at a level crossing, ran in front of a train, and managed to avoid getting hit by only a few millimeters. I have no idea what was going through his mind at the time, but I’m pretty sure his thought processes would not qualify him for a membership in Mensa, which only accepts folks with an extremely high IQ.
As a person of faith, I’m not big on luck, but this guy was lucky. As one who learned to drive in the traffic of Toronto, I’m used to cutting things close, but not as close as he did. As a “man” I occasionally forget that rules apply to me, too, but I would never bend them as much as this fellow did. At some point you’ve got to accept that there are things you shouldn’t do, even if doing them turns out OK.
It turns out that this person of rather limited judgment was eventually caught by the local constabulary. I’m not sure what happened after that, but I’m happy that there were non-injurious consequences to his folly. I’m not being mean-spirited; I realize that the narrowness of his escape probably taught him an important lesson and for some folks it might be consequence enough, but I think he still should answer to a higher authority. After all, the laws governing safety are there for a reason, and when you defy them you should be accountable to those who made the laws on your behalf.
We humans probably give God more than a few terrifying-comical-awesome moments. The way we skirt His laws and throw our lives on the line must surely cause Him moments of breathless anticipation or roll-on-the-ground laughter. That’s not why He established those commandments, but I’m sure it’s a part of His everyday reality; no matter how good or helpful He tries to be, we figure that we can get by on our own, with complete disregard for what God knows is right for us.
Our creator doesn’t want to keep us from having fun. He didn’t create the rules in order to hem us in or keep us under His thumb. They were devised for our safety and so that we would all have a common set of values. They are like the barriers at a railway crossing or the child-proof caps on medicine. God, however, doesn’t just stop at ordaining what we can’t do. He has also set into place laws that govern how we should act towards one another. One special law lords over and determines all others: it is the commandment to love the Lord our God with all our hearts, soul, mind and strength and to love our neighbour as ourselves.
There should be no skirting of this law because it is the one that offers us the greatest joy and fulfillment. It protects us by protecting others; it gives us joy by ensuring the joy of those around us. Above all, it unites us to the heart and soul of the one who loves us even when we push things a little more than we should. To follow this command is to act in the way that will not only keep us safe and healthy, but will also ensure that we never push God to the limit. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor March 15th, 2009
In my continuing quest for physical self-improvement I am proud to say that I have now broken my third exercise machine. Yes, after over 12 years of faithful service my weight machine has finally and fatally met it’s maker.
This was pretty much unexpected. As far as workout equipment is concerned, this has been a very reliable piece of kit. Every once in a while I would have to tighten the various nuts and bolts that kept it all together but otherwise it has been as trustworthy as the Lord Himself. Sure, a couple of the resistance bands had cracked and needed replacing, but they didn’t affect the operation of the rest of the machine. Plus, after over 12 years of trouble-free yet frequent use, one might have predicted that something would wear out eventually.
What did break, however, was totally unexpected. There is a bar used for one particular set of exercises that is pretty much central to the operation and usefulness of this machine. It’s made of two pieces of tubing welded together to form a single solid unit. Working without a hitch or sign of failure, it seemed virtually indestructible. Reality, however, proved to be much different from appearances, and within a few strong pushes, what had been one was rent asunder into two. But here’s the odd bit. I don’t have the two original pieces that were welded together no sitting separately on my workbench, because it wasn’t the weld that failed. The point where the two bars were attached remains as strong as ever, without any indication of weakness or a desire to give up the ghost. Instead, the metal around the joint failed and tore away from itself like the pull tab on a pop can.
I have to admit that I was pretty impressed with myself when I saw it. I mean, I had actually managed to rip open a piece of cold, hard steel. Well, OK, it was partly me and partly the 90 kilos of weight applied to the thing, but it was still pretty impressive, except for the fact that the darn thing is now broken beyond repair. The other thing that impressed me is the fact that the metal failed while the joint remained completely, solidly and unwaveringly intact.
It’s like that with our relationship with God. We are completely, solidly and unwaveringly bound to God. He is not just some half hearted creator who simply let us go when he finished making us. Nor is He a forgetful or changeable friend or father that is only interested in us on a whim. Neither are we separable from Him. Our relationship is always intact; we are always on His mind and in His heart.
Sin, however, can tear part of us from God. It rips us away from our loving Father and leaves us empty and incomplete. Yet unlike my poor exercise machine, the break is never absolute. At some level, our hearts are still bound to God, and God is always fully committed to us. There is no escaping His love, grace and mercy, because sin’s power just isn’t great enough. Yes, it can hurt us, yes, it can tear us apart, yes it can make us feel like God is totally and permanently ripped away from us, but God’s love is stronger than sin. If we let Him, he will heal what sin hurts; he will put back together way sin rends apart; and He will never, ever abandon us if we willingly seek Him out. Our bond is simply too great for that. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor March 8th, 2009
On a cool, dull day, driving through the local countryside, I happened upon a vision that I thought required extra care in handling my vehicle. There ahead of me, I spied what I thought was an icy patch on the road well ahead of me. Being cautious, I slowed down significantly in order not to slip slide away, but lo and behold, as I approached what I thought would be a treacherous bit of driving, the shiny surface of the road turned back to the normal colour of the rest of the pavement.
Not taking any risks, I drove slowly until I arrived at the spot and saw with my eyes and felt through the car that there was no danger at all. Speeding up and carrying on I soon saw another stretch of road that seemed ice covered and realized what was happening: I was seeing mirages, the same trick of the eye see on hot summer days. The shimmering I saw ahead of me, in hindsight, never did look like ice; but in the dead of winter, after having seen cars in the ditches on previous long distance drives, I wasn’t about to take any chances until I knew exactly what was happening.
It was an extremely rare occurrence. I don’t remember seeing anything like that other than in the summer, but I guess it’s not impossible during other times of the year. Highway mirages take place because of the difference in temperature the surface of the road is greater than the air temperature. The day I described happened to be a particularly cold one that followed a rather warm one. Thus, the road was hot, the air was cool, and I was privileged to enjoy (after the first fears were dispelled) to see a mirage in the middle of winter. It might have seemed out of place, but it really wasn’t; it was just a naturally occurring phenomenon in what was, to me, an unnatural time for it.
God’s place in the world is the most natural thing in creation. He belongs here as surely as you or I do. Yet modern science and society seem to be turning things around and claiming that God is not just an unnatural part of things, but merely the imaginary creation of a folks who should know better. The claim that God is the creator of all things and that God is in a loving relationship with that creation is more and more being described as a mirage or nothing more than the result of the difference between wild imaginations and weak brains.
For people of faith however, God is not a mirage, but a true living presence that is very much supported by a fully functioning brain and a completely rational thought process. Modern science helps explain how things work, but it cannot displace God’s role. Indeed, the more science comes up with to explain things, the more we need God in order to hold things together, because without a rational creator we delve too much into a cold, uncaring process of world and life building that more and more excludes the realities of love, altruism, self-sacrifice, mercy, grace and forgiveness.
These things are not mirages; love, altruism, self-sacrifice, mercy, grace and forgiveness lie at the very core of our humanity, and cannot be explained by any scientific means. Indeed, they are unique to us, and no other creature. If science can’t explain it, and they are not mirages, there must be another reason for their existence. That reason is God, the ultimate reality, even if He seems out of place in our modern world. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor March 1st, 2009
I’ve just watched a terrifying-comical-awesome video of a complete bozo narrowly escaping death. This genius from the narrow end of the gene pool thought it was a good idea to ignore the safety warnings and lowered bars at a level crossing, ran in front of a train, and managed to avoid getting hit by only a few millimeters. I have no idea what was going through his mind at the time, but I’m pretty sure his thought processes would not qualify him for a membership in Mensa, which only accepts folks with an extremely high IQ.
As a person of faith, I’m not big on luck, but this guy was lucky. As one who learned to drive in the traffic of Toronto, I’m used to cutting things close, but not as close as he did. As a “man” I occasionally forget that rules apply to me, too, but I would never bend them as much as this fellow did. At some point you’ve got to accept that there are things you shouldn’t do, even if doing them turns out OK.
It turns out that this person of rather limited judgment was eventually caught by the local constabulary. I’m not sure what happened after that, but I’m happy that there were non-injurious consequences to his folly. I’m not being mean-spirited; I realize that the narrowness of his escape probably taught him an important lesson and for some folks it might be consequence enough, but I think he still should answer to a higher authority. After all, the laws governing safety are there for a reason, and when you defy them you should be accountable to those who made the laws on your behalf.
We humans probably give God more than a few terrifying-comical-awesome moments. The way we skirt His laws and throw our lives on the line must surely cause Him moments of breathless anticipation or roll-on-the-ground laughter. That’s not why He established those commandments, but I’m sure it’s a part of His everyday reality; no matter how good or helpful He tries to be, we figure that we can get by on our own, with complete disregard for what God knows is right for us.
Our creator doesn’t want to keep us from having fun. He didn’t create the rules in order to hem us in or keep us under His thumb. They were devised for our safety and so that we would all have a common set of values. They are like the barriers at a railway crossing or the child-proof caps on medicine. God, however, doesn’t just stop at ordaining what we can’t do. He has also set into place laws that govern how we should act towards one another. One special law lords over and determines all others: it is the commandment to love the Lord our God with all our hearts, soul, mind and strength and to love our neighbour as ourselves.
There should be no skirting of this law because it is the one that offers us the greatest joy and fulfillment. It protects us by protecting others; it gives us joy by ensuring the joy of those around us. Above all, it unites us to the heart and soul of the one who loves us even when we push things a little more than we should. To follow this command is to act in the way that will not only keep us safe and healthy, but will also ensure that we never push God to the limit. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor February 22nd, 2009
I am in the midst of my annual study leave, pondering the eternal verities, being challenged by the thoughts of thinkers far beyond my meagre means, and generally trying to improve my somewhat beleaguered state of mind. It is a privilege extended to all ministers of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. Our denomination recognizes that we teachers and caregivers need to refresh and renew ourselves on a regular basis. Thus, our study leave provides us with the opportunity to step aside from our regular duties in order to be immersed in focussed study and reflection.
Mind you, it’s not as if study and reflection take place only once a year. Our role as teaching elder practically demands that we keep our minds sharp and ourselves well informed. But the role of teacher is one devoted to others; we work within our own skills, limits and interests, but it is always with an eye with providing for someone else. That means that our studies aren’t necessarily our own: we ponder and peruse our Bibles and theological texts in order to be a blessing to those within our flocks and our communities but this doesn’t always fulfill our own personal needs our help us in our path to spiritual and mental growth.
Our proscribed study leave gives us the opportunity to feed our souls needs. It allows us to separate ourselves from the needs of others so that we can feed our own spiritual needs, which in turn helps us do our work of teaching and caregiving all the better. It’s also an opportunity to explore new avenues of knowledge, test our own limits and perhaps even break out of old habits or mindsets that hinder our ability to serve.
As ministers, we have a special place within the church. We are charged with certain responsibilities, offered certain perks, and empowered to focus on the matters of faith for the benefit of our congregation. Yet being a minister is only a job, albeit a pretty amazing and wonderful one, that might distinguish us in some ways, but doesn’t make us any different from any other human being. We all share in a similar spiritual hunger; we are bound by the same rules of conduct; we are all called to serve God in some way; we are all threatened by the power of sin; we are all asked to know our heavenly Father, His Son, and the Holy Spirit, as closely and as intimately as we know ourselves.
I get study leave in order to help me with these human needs. Its a blessing I deeply appreciate and make use of every year. What about you? Have you taken time to explore your own faith? Have you seized the opportunity to know God, His Son, or the Holy Spirit a bit better? Have you challenged yourself with a good book or a determined study of a confusing or difficult bit of the Bible? In other words, have you taken some study leave, even for the briefest time?
It’s not a matter of length; I’m not talking about a week, or a whole day. An hour here and there would suffice. Just a few minutes of dedicated daily reflection would help. It’s not an option, it’s a blessing. However you manage it, it’s worth the time and effort. After all, God knows us inside out, and He loves for everything we are. In turn, knowing Him as best we can can only bring us closer to our loving, heavenly God. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor February 15th, 2009
I’m sending out a big “Happy Birthday” to the father of evolution, Charles Darwin. Today his birth is being celebrated in various ways, in assorted places, for a number of reasons. Some are rejoicing in the scientific breakthrough he made in explaining the origins and development of all human life. Some are celebrating his journeys and adventurous spirit. Other are celebrating the way he brought rational thinking into a world dominated by not so rational thinking. Pick your reason, and you too can celebrate the birth of this noted and significant scientist.
Me, I’m not going to do too much. I am what I would call a hard scientist, preferring physics and mechanics to biology. Plus, I have certain differences with Darwin that would, if he were alive today, not have me enjoying a pint of beer with him to celebrate his birthday. I believe in a God created world; Darwin does not, and that is a pretty wide gulf to bridge. Sure, I admire his methods and respect his research techniques, but I’m not entirely convinced of his results. Those differences are enough to keep us apart in a social, friendly way, which might not seem nice of me, but is nevertheless a personal reality for me.
Mind you, if Darwin were alive today, and he was in dire straights physically, emotionally or spiritually, and he were to request my help, I certainly wouldn’t turn him down. A person in need is a person in need, and if they happen to need me, then no matter what differences we might have on certain topics, I wouldn’t let those stand in the way of my being there for that person. On the other hand, I wouldn’t necessarily be close friends with them, simply because we wouldn’t share the same personal interests. In other words, there are times when my personal preferences have to give way to my professional ones. I might not want to have Darwin as a friend, but there is no reason for me to ever deny him the best of my care-giving abilities.
Jesus was a carpenter’s step-son, and a Rabbit, or teacher. He was the Son of God and He danced to a different tune to the trained professionals that served as God’s priests and the leaders of the temple. Yet those differences didn’t keep Jesus from teaching, serving and helping the folks that otherwise were completely different from him. As a carpenter’s step-son, He wouldn’t have had much in common with tax-collectors, yet he spent time with them. As a man used to gainful employment in the workshop or kept busy studying and teaching in the temple, he would have had little in common with the poor or the widow, yet he made time for them as well. As the Son of God, perfect and sinless and all-powerful, he had little in common with the human beings with whom he shared a fully physical existence, yet they were objects of His full and undivided attention. Jesus might have had heavenly connections, but you can be sure that the angels were the last folks to see him while he was in the flesh.
We might not get along with our neighbours for a number of reasons, but when they need us, God asks us to set aside our differences and serve them should they ask. It might not be easy, and it might not make sense, but it is the right thing to do because, despite what some folks claim, it’s not about us. It’s about God, and His desire for all creation to know, love and enjoy Him. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor February 8th, 2009
As I stepped out the front door the other day, I was aware of certain flaky bits of crystalized water falling on me, that is, I was being shall we say, showered by snowflakes, even though it wasn’t actually snowing at the time. No, the flakes that were falling were not making their descent from clouds way up yonder; they were simply falling from the trees that surround my house. The snowfall from the night before was so thick and heavy that everything, even bare branches, had more than their fair share of the stuff. The snow itself, however, was that very light and fluffy stuff that blows around with the slightest of breeze. Thus, when I stepped out, there was just enough wind to cause this most unexpected, but not unpleasant, snowfall.
Call it a residual snowfall, the effects of a previous event felt hours later. Sometimes you get it from trees; sometimes from cars. I’m sure most of you have experienced being caught in a great snowstorm when trailing behind a car that not been cleared of snowed before getting underway. If it’s that light fluffy stuff, and if there’s enough of it, it’s just like being caught in a blizzard, even if the skies are bright and sunny.
Sometimes the residual effects of a good snowfall are felt in the form of a cold, unpleasant rain. Once the weather starts warming up, the white stuff that’s accumulated on rooftops starts melting and overflowing the eavestroughs, resulting in an icy deluge that always seems to find the gap between ones collar and the back of ones neck. Or else the flood comes from below, as cars or pedestrians kick up great streams of wet dirty water from puddles or streams of melting snow.
Residual effects, the leftovers from previous events, have a great impact on our Christian life as well. The biggest one is the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. That one-time occurrence has been felt by every individual in every generation that follows. While natives in small remote tribes might not have heard His name directly, the expansion of civilization that impacts their lifestyle is an indirect but traceable result of the effect Jesus had on western society. More immediately, Jesus’ forgiveness and salvation has had a positive result in countless lives, and will continue to do so until God decides to do something different.
At times, Jesus enters our lives directly; at other times, He enters by more indirect means, so that it is we that either cause or feel the residual effects of His life. If we’re careful and faithful, these residual effects can be wonderful and affirmatively life-changing. If we’re careless, they can turn people off God in ways not even the devil himself could accomplish.
Residual effects can happen at any time. We can control them to a degree, if we’re conscious and prayerful in sharing our faith or following Christ’s example, but they don’t always happen when we expect them. The simplest Christlike gesture can have as deep an impact as the most overt act of love and charity. What’s most amazing about such residual effects is that, unlike the tiny bit of leftover snow that sometimes falls from a tree branch with little or no effect, even the slightest residual effect we share from Christ’s grace, love or mercy is every bit as powerful as it would be if Jesus himself had done it. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor February 1st, 2009
I used to have a favourite shirt way back when during my High School days. It was white, with red and blue lines neatly ordered and arranged to cover the white with little coloured squares. I remember wearing it a lot, day after day, for quite a while. Not necessarily for weeks on end, mind you. My mother would never have let me go more than two or three days at a time before washing it, but it certainly was a frequently worn fashion item.
Then, almost overnight, I discovered girls, a discovery that profoundly changed everything about what I wore, when I wore it, and how I took care of myself before wearing anything. Shirts now had to be stylish; outfits were never worn more than once; Weekly baths became daily shower marathons; deodorants were augmented with hair care products, scented shaving cream , after-shave and cologne. And in case you’re thinking I stunk to high heaven with all these scented items, rest assured that my mother’s attention to detail ensured that I never went too far with the smelly pretty stuff. Plus, it was all the rage at the time.
It’s amazing how much more aware of myself I became once I discovered that girls actually care about how you look, smell and act. Suddenly the mirror went from someplace where I could test my funny faces to a place of careful self-examination. Department stores, which had been a great place to wander in order to poke or test all the display items, suddenly became the last place I wanted to be; after all, there were all kinds of men’s fashion stores with real clothes. And of course, diet and exercise, which had never been that interesting or important, took on new significance.
All these changes gradually became part of my lifestyle. Some, like the after-shave and colognes have fallen by the wayside. Others, like my love of fashion stores, have been greatly reduced; but all, in one way or another are part of who I am. I’m very conscious of how I look; I shower at least once a day, change clothes every day, and always try to put my best face forward. In other words, discovering girls permanently changed my life for the better.
Sometimes folks have the same kind of change when they finally encounter God. Suddenly they see a new way of understanding themselves and change their lives accordingly. But all too often the changes don’t take; the initial excitement passes away as quickly as a summer romance, and God vanishes from their lives as fast as He first entered in.
My discovery of girls helped make me complete. Overnight I realized there was more to life than just me and my family. I needed somebody to make my physical existence complete. Folks that find and hold onto God have the same experience. They realize how empty they were spiritually and find total fulfillment in their relationship with God. Those for whom God is only a passing fancy, on the other hand, are only interested in what He can offer them right away; In the mean time, they still focus on themselves.
Those passing fancies are fun, but ultimately unsatisfying. Only when we commit to God can we find the fulfillment and joy we need to make us truly complete. And unlike girls, (or guys) it doesn’t matter what we wear or how we smell. All God wants is our love and devotion, in whatever form it takes. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor January 25th, 2009
I’ve just finished helping my secretary, Janet, make use of one of the many features available on her new printer. Janet is a bright capable woman who is the epitome of the great secretary. She is not, however, as experienced in the technical arts as I am, which means that she is not nearly as fully versed in either mumbo-jumbo or gibberish as I am.
You see, in extricating a much desired functionality of her new device, we had to decipher the manufacturer’s attempts at clarity. All Janet wanted to do was scan a document, that is, to have the printer “read” the words directly into her computer. It’s called scanning in most places I’ve ever done it. The manufacturer, however, didn’t simply include a program called scanning, or scan or Iscan or anything like that. No, that would have been too obvious. Instead, they offered us the “Solution Center.” Maybe that’s clear to you, but to Janet it was not so obvious, and to me it sounded more like a complaint department than a place to go and do useful work.
Nevertheless, something in the back of my mind, something from way back in the days I used to fix computers for a living, started talking technical gibberish, at which point I realized that the “Solution Center” probably meant the place where you go to scan or do other useful things with the printer. As a result we pushed the button and sure enough, Janet is now fully versed in document scanning.
That’s the problem with Human Beings, sometimes. We speak in code, saying what we mean without making it clear as to what we’re saying or what we mean. Sometimes it’s a misguided attempt to be clever or helpful, like the not-so-obvious intent of the “Solution Center.” Sometimes it’s actually a matter of trying to hide an uncomfortable truth, as we so often do in our attempts to be politically correct. And sometimes we obfuscate matters simply because we don’t actually know what we’re talking about.
When Moses met God for the first time, he didn’t do the typical man thing and ask the Almighty what He did. Instead, Moses asked God for His name, and was told “I am that I am.” Now, I don’t know about you, but that’s not much help; it’s a rather mysterious name that has caused much debate as to what exactly it means. But this is the Almighty we’re dealing with here. It’s OK if His name is mysterious to us, because there’s a lot we don’t, and can’t possibly, know about the one that simply thought creation into existence.
It takes we human beings to confuse things and make them complicated. Rather than call a scanner a scanner we talk about “Solution Centers.” Instead of referring to Jesus as our Saviour we tone Him down to our buddy or pal and rather than letting God be who He is, we try to rename Him and fashion Him into our own politically correct and socially inoffensive “Solution Center.”
God, however speaks the truth clearly and without confusion, and He calls us to do the same thing. Jesus might be our “Solution Center” in some ways, but the truth is, He is first and foremost humanity’s Saviour. He is Immanuel, “God with us.” He is plainly and simply, the name above all names, the one we can call on directly to set us straight about who and what we are. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor January 18th, 2009
In the course of singing tunes like “Winter Wonderland,” “Baby, it’s cold outside” or “Sleigh Ride,” you get a sense of the fun things about winter, but not about Christmas, which is when these songs are usually sung. Why we don’t keep singing winter songs while in the midst of a season so significant and so long-lasting, is beyond me. Of course, as a person of faith, why certain songs are called Christmas songs is also beyond me.
Well, okay, not totally beyond me; I’m not so thick as to miss the connection between Christmas and songs like “So this is Christmas,” “The Christmas Song,” or even “Grandma got run over by a reindeer.” The theme is clearly in the title or the content, so these songs are distinct from the ones we should truly sing only in celebration of the snow and the temperature falling. Yet to call them Christmas songs doesn’t sit too well with me, because they only refer to the season, but don’t speak to the true meaning of our annual festivities. In other words, they talk about Christmas, without saying what Jesus, His birth, His church or His people represent.
If this were a party, (which I guess it really is) then the winter songs we sing would be the uninvited guests that aren’t too offensive to be thrown out. Meanwhile the Christmas-like songs would be the posers that come for the food, but couldn’t care less about the host or any of the other guests. Only the ones that make a direct connection with Jesus and what he stood for are those that truly belong.
I have mixed feelings about this state of affairs. On the one hand, I would prefer that we keep the Christ in Christmas, and stick to the songs that are true and relevant to His entrance into this world. On the other hand, all those songs, relevant or not, still put me and a lot of other folks in the mood for celebrating Jesus birthday. So, while it would be great to remember that in every song we sing for the season, if the other tunes and words help recall the joy and excitement that Jesus’ entry into our lives offers, I’m all for it. In fact, such borderline tunes can serve as a stepping stone for people of faith to share the true meaning of Christmas.
God uses whatever means necessary to get His message across. Now, I don’t mean He uses violence or suffering to force the issue; I mean that He uses whatever methods are in line with His love, grace and mercy. Whether it’s a happy song celebrating something vaguely Christmasy, someone “paying it forward” with an act of kindness, or an opportunity to let others see Christ in action, God provides lots of opportunities for folks to know that He is alive and well and working for humanities benefit.
Even a silly song praising the joys of bells ringing on the harness of a fast moving horse can point to God. It speaks to the joy God offers us not just with jingling bells, but with the wonders that winter has to offer. Grandma might have gotten run over by a reindeer...
...well, I admit I’m stumped with that one. But generally, even if the songs do nothing but build excitement around the time we celebrate Jesus’ birth, then folks who love and serve Him can build on that excitement by sharing the meaning of the season. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor January 11th, 2009
It is January, we are well into winter, and there is snow on the ground. There’s not a whole pile of snow, certainly not enough to call it a “Winter Wonderland,” but there is enough to remind a person that it’s a winter something or other out there. Mind you, despite the relatively small quantity of that white powdery stuff, the temperature was certainly enough to say to oneself: “Baby, it’s cold outside.” On the other hand, during a recent stay in Toronto, the thermostat registered rather mild conditions, but there was more snow than we have here. In fact, it was enough to enjoy the “Jingle Bells” of a nice, brisk “Sleigh Ride” if one were so inclined.
Now, those of you who are rather musically inclined, or who have radios in the house, or who haven’t spent the last ten or so weeks in total seclusion from the rest of the world, might have noticed something rather odd about the last few days. If you’re wondering what that might be, take a look at the first paragraph of this reflection again, and take note of the words in quotation marks. Each of those phrases refers to a winter song. They sing about snow and cold and all the other things that happen during this particular season. They speak of the things we do, both the frustrations and the joys of the season. And, for some reason that I have yet to understand, we call them Christmas Songs. What’s more, and what’s particularly odd about these songs, is that when we really need them, we don’t hear them.
Think about it for a moment. Once the hustle and bustle of Christmas is over, all the good winter songs sung to help usher in the birth of the baby stop getting sung or played on the radio, and that, I think, is a shame. It’s also typical of us human beings. Sometimes we get so excited about our familiar routines that we stop thinking about why we do them. Think about those winter songs for a moment. Why do we play them only in anticipation of Christmas. They don’t really have anything to do with the birth of Christ, so they really aren’t suited to the Christian season. In fact, considering the rather warm climate enjoyed by Jesus, those songs are really off the mark. They do, however, speak to the realities of snow and cold and all that’s associated with the winter, so there’s no reason we can’t enjoy them as soon as the snow flies, right up to the time Spring makes it’s rainy entrance.
But, like I said, it’s human nature to get stuck in a rut and not think about what we’re doing or why, and that’s OK, in a way. It’s OK because God is constantly challenging us and encouraging us to break out of our routines. The seasons of our lives change, just as the year goes through different cycles. God sends new people our way; He puts us in new and maybe even uncomfortable situations. One way or another, God makes sure that we either find a way to break free from our ruts so we can head in a more productive direction, or at least gives us relief from our routine so that we can appreciate the things we enjoy all the more.
It’s still winter outside. The snow is on the ground. Christmas is over, but Jesus keeps moving through our lives. The song might not have anything to do with His birth or the Christmas season, but I think a nice rendition of “Winter Wonderland” would do very well to celebrate the unique gifts God provides during this cold, refreshing time of the year. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor January 4th, 2009
As a true and honest fan of technology, I tend to look not just to technological realities, but to fantasy as well. While it’s good to be grounded in high quality, reliable and proven science, every once in a while it’s fun to do a little dreaming and examine some “what if?” scenarios, and even to study what might be called science-imaginary, let alone science fiction.
Let me make a clear distinction here: Science fiction has a solid basis in science fact. The fictional part has to do with imagining the possibilities within the reality of what scientific research has seen in part but does not yet fully understand. Science-imaginary, on the other hand, tends to leave real, hard science behind and starts fresh, developing, (or most honestly, imagining) things that might be, but have never been hinted at by what more mainstream scientists have discovered or posited so far.
Science fiction includes such things as warp drives, teleportation and robots indistinguishable from real folks like you and me. Science imaginary, on the other hand, posits things like over unity energy. Warp drives, engines that operate by bending space, and teleportation, the ability to go from place to place without visiting the space in between, have been hinted at by some of the more esoteric branches of physics. Meanwhile, life-like robots are ever more a possibility given the advancing state of computer and bio-mechanical research. Over unity energy, however, is in the realm of folks who believe aliens built the pyramids and that Elvis is alive and living on another planet.
You see, over unity energy means that you can get more out of something than you first put in. Folks who believe in this stuff imagine that you can take a simple battery, say for a flashlight, and use it to turn a generator that can power a stadium full of lights. It’s as is you put one egg in a fridge, and you get a hundred mature chickens. That’s Science imaginary. It’s a highly refined state of mind that imagines what it wants, and disregards everything else, including real science, and most likely, actual brain-generated thought.
Religion is often seen as the art of giving up on true reality and forging ones own. Many scientists believe, for instance, that we Christians, or anyone who believes in God, have it all wrong, and that science is all that you need to understand the world, and how to live the best life possible. Such folks I would suggest are the ones living in a land of imagination. The harder you look at the world, and the more honestly you look at what makes humans tick, and the more you realize that there must be something beyond what we know and see. There is too much logic in the universe for it to have sprung from random, unorganized events. There is too much in common in all living beings for them to have popped up from some lucky combination of chemicals. And in what is perhaps the greatest proof of all, there is too great a spiritual need in all humans to say that our need for God is just a crutch.
Of course, the irony is that even scientists who don’t believe in God end up believing in science. Such is humanities spiritual need: anything will do, for some folks, I guess. Me, I’d rather believe in the one that believes in us so much that He sent His only Son to set things straight. The fact of that Son is seen every day in lives changed for the better, changes which are a proven fact, and in no way imaginary or fictional. At least that’s the way I see it.
We are in the midst of a season of waiting. Toronto-born folks like myself can’t wait for winter to finally and officially be over so we can stop hiding inside and get outside. Real Estate agents are waiting for the temperature to rise so the temptation to visit Open Houses will grow. Meanwhile, gardeners are waiting for the late night frosts to stop and the ground to dry up enough (but not too much) so it can be worked without becoming a muddy mess.
While waiting, we have a couple of options. There is the classic “Bear Approach” which involves lots of sleeping and very little activity. There is the “Beaver Style” which means doing lots of little busy-making things that don’t do much other than fill the time. There’s the “Ant Method” which is to do lots of good practical work that will pay off in being good and ready for when the season finally arrives, and has the side benefit of driving everybody else nuts. Then there is the “Ostrich Way,” a technique that depends on pretending that nothing is out of the ordinary, just do what you do normally, even if it means wearing shorts and flip-flops mid winter. Finally, there is the “Chameleon Path” which is actually changing to meet the needs of the season, rather than simply waiting for something more pleasant to happen.
Each choice has its merits and demerits. There are advantages and disadvantages to all of those ways of dealing with waiting, but some are clearly more wanting than others while others have their plusses. Take the “Bear Approach” and “Beaver Style” for example. Sure, it’s nice to hide for a while, and yes, there’s always busy work to do, but neither technique does anything other than to make the hours of waiting seem shorter. The “Ant Method” and “Chameleon Path,” on the other hand, are more useful because they do something with meaning than simply whiling away the time.
Christians live in a perpetual waiting-state, we remember all the better at Easter. With each remembrance of Christ’s resurrection we recall the fact that we are waiting for His Second Coming. One day, Jesus will come back in glory and power to establish a new kingdom under His rule. It will be a wonderful, time for all who have waited patiently for him...
...or so we’d like to think.
The time we spend waiting for Jesus’ return is a big question mark for how we’ll live. We can choose any number of techniques, such as those suggested above, or others of our own choice. But not all of those techniques will lead to an equally wonderful time for those waiting for the great comeback. Those familiar with the “Bear Approach” or the “Beaver Style” will no doubt be disappointed when the new Kingdom is established. Meanwhile, those who have followed the “Chameleon Path” or the “Ant Method” will probably fair pretty well upon Jesus return. It’s all a matter of what we do while we wait. If we just waste time, I don’t know that Jesus will have much time for us. If, on the other hand, we do the kinds of things He would do Himself, and live knowing that He’s already with us through the Holy Spirit, He’ll have all the time in the world for us when He finally sets up His eternal Kingdom. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor April 12th, 2009
My friends, it is with the utmost respect that I would urge you to read the following article with caution. Those of you with a weakened constitution might consider turning your eyes away to other, safer alternatives. If you are prone to heart palpitations, fainting spells or dizziness, please read no further. If you are in the least bit squeamish or otherwise of weak stomach, find a safer, more gentle article to peruse. For the rest of you of iron wills and fortified constitution, read on at your own risk and consider yourselves warned.
Consider yourselves warned, because today I must address the issue of earthworms, those curious, slimy denizens of dirt and soil beloved by gardeners, fishermen and little boys with magnifying glasses. Not that I know anything about the latter item myself, it’s simply something I have heard told about. At least that’s my story.
Ah yes, earthworms. Fascinating creatures. They are totally at home beneath the ground, moving through the dirt and loam with the greatest of ease, tunneling like they were born to it, helping to enrich the soil far better than anything other than good old cow based fertilizer can do. Remember you were warned!
What really fascinates me about earthworms, and what prompted this pensive bit of reflecting, is their propensity for leaving their earthly home when the skies release their watery offerings. Just the other day, as I walked to work during a light misty rain, I was hard-pressed not to step on the poor creatures that were making their way across the sidewalk. I also couldn’t help but wonder why in the world they would make such a risky trek. What on earth (again, you were warned, and that includes having to deal with bad puns) were those little fellas thinking, leaving the security and darkness of their traditional home for the great unknown, and virtually impenetrable expanse of flat concrete? Couldn’t they just go underneath? Is the earth that much browner on the other side of the pathway? Or is it one of those rhetorical/joke questions, much like asking why the chicken crossed the road, only slimier?
That question leads me to a big question of faith and our relationship with God. Hanging out with our Heavenly Father, or Jesus, or in the presence of the Holy Spirit is the easiest, most natural place for us, kind of like what earth is to an earthworm. So why, oh why, do we wander out into the sidewalk? What’s the appeal? What’s on the other side of the cement that could possibly better that our place with God? I’m not really sure. Think of it as a variation on the old chicken joke: Why did the Christian cross the sidewalk? To get to the other side! But the other side is away from our heavenly Father and, rumour has it, that side is rather warm and distinctly uncomfortable.
All joking aside, friends, I know there are lots of reasons for us to leave the safety and security of our relationship with God; the only trouble is, none of them are good reasons, especially when compared to the reason I stick with Him the way I do. After all, there’s no other place a worm like me could possible feel so loved, accepted and useful. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor April 5th, 2009
I am a technology buff. I’ve said it before, and I’ll happily bore you with the facts again, I love things that go buzz, whirr or click. Whether it’s an “old school” computer with lots of glowing tubes and clicking relays, a modern Formula One race car stuffed with high tech gadgets, or a well designed, highly efficient and ergonomically satisfying can opener, I’m going to have a good look to see what it does and how it does it. For all my love of technology, however, I’m not the kind of guy that has to go out and buy the latest and the greatest mechanical marvel. Part of it is a budgetary reality, in that I just don’t have that much money and part of it is a practical concern, in that I don’t have the room for the kinds of things I’d like to have. There simply isn’t enough room in the house to store a fully functioning steam locomotive.
There is yet another reason I’m not about to rush out and buy all the latest toys and gadgets that hold me in awe and wonder, one summarized by three words: “Automatic Pizza Machine.” Yes, believe it or not, some technical genius in Italy has invented, and is marketing, a machine for making a pizza from scratch in just 3 minutes. Yes, it’s a wonder of machine and kitchen technology. Yes, it’s pretty cool to watch. Yes, it produces one of my absolute favourite foods. But it’s not right. Sure, it’s convenient, but that’s not what pizza is about. Pizza, like so many other foods, should be carefully prepared by hand, not by machine. Sure, one might argue that the pizzas prepared by the underpaid workers in pizza shops aren’t true works of art, but at least they are made with every best intention by real folks who are trained to make those circular culinary delights the way they should be made. Machines are great, but they have their place, just not in pizza shops.
Like a well prepared pizza, one lovingly produced from scratch and savoured in peace and comfort, our faith is something that can not be met by short cuts or automation. Priests and ministers might pray for their people in worship, but that production line process is no substitute for one’s personal conversation with God. Well run mission organizations might do a wonderful job of reaching the lost and the hungry, but each of us still needs to find a personal connection and contribution to the lonely or the starving in our community. Cd’s, records, MP3 players or the radio might be a great way to hear beautiful music and make a joyful noise to the Lord, but He still loves to hear each of us sing His praises, even if they are sung with voices not fully appreciated by other people.
In other words, our own personal contributions and efforts can never be replaced by the organizations, tools or technologies available to the faithful. Sure, the priest’s prayers might be more well thought out, but they aren’t your own honest, heartfelt thoughts. Mission teams might touch thousands, but it’s not your hands letting one person feel the love in your heart. Professionally performed music might be amazing, but it’s not you that God’s hearing. Yes, machines have their place in our lives. Yes, faith based leaders and organizations have a place in our spiritual lives. But the true core of faith, the love and care that define our relationship with our heavenly Father, must come from our hearts; anything else is but a pale imitation. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor March 22nd, 2009
I’ve just watched a terrifying-comical-awesome video of a complete bozo narrowly escaping death. This genius from the narrow end of the gene pool thought it was a good idea to ignore the safety warnings and lowered bars at a level crossing, ran in front of a train, and managed to avoid getting hit by only a few millimeters. I have no idea what was going through his mind at the time, but I’m pretty sure his thought processes would not qualify him for a membership in Mensa, which only accepts folks with an extremely high IQ.
As a person of faith, I’m not big on luck, but this guy was lucky. As one who learned to drive in the traffic of Toronto, I’m used to cutting things close, but not as close as he did. As a “man” I occasionally forget that rules apply to me, too, but I would never bend them as much as this fellow did. At some point you’ve got to accept that there are things you shouldn’t do, even if doing them turns out OK.
It turns out that this person of rather limited judgment was eventually caught by the local constabulary. I’m not sure what happened after that, but I’m happy that there were non-injurious consequences to his folly. I’m not being mean-spirited; I realize that the narrowness of his escape probably taught him an important lesson and for some folks it might be consequence enough, but I think he still should answer to a higher authority. After all, the laws governing safety are there for a reason, and when you defy them you should be accountable to those who made the laws on your behalf.
We humans probably give God more than a few terrifying-comical-awesome moments. The way we skirt His laws and throw our lives on the line must surely cause Him moments of breathless anticipation or roll-on-the-ground laughter. That’s not why He established those commandments, but I’m sure it’s a part of His everyday reality; no matter how good or helpful He tries to be, we figure that we can get by on our own, with complete disregard for what God knows is right for us.
Our creator doesn’t want to keep us from having fun. He didn’t create the rules in order to hem us in or keep us under His thumb. They were devised for our safety and so that we would all have a common set of values. They are like the barriers at a railway crossing or the child-proof caps on medicine. God, however, doesn’t just stop at ordaining what we can’t do. He has also set into place laws that govern how we should act towards one another. One special law lords over and determines all others: it is the commandment to love the Lord our God with all our hearts, soul, mind and strength and to love our neighbour as ourselves.
There should be no skirting of this law because it is the one that offers us the greatest joy and fulfillment. It protects us by protecting others; it gives us joy by ensuring the joy of those around us. Above all, it unites us to the heart and soul of the one who loves us even when we push things a little more than we should. To follow this command is to act in the way that will not only keep us safe and healthy, but will also ensure that we never push God to the limit. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor March 15th, 2009
In my continuing quest for physical self-improvement I am proud to say that I have now broken my third exercise machine. Yes, after over 12 years of faithful service my weight machine has finally and fatally met it’s maker.
This was pretty much unexpected. As far as workout equipment is concerned, this has been a very reliable piece of kit. Every once in a while I would have to tighten the various nuts and bolts that kept it all together but otherwise it has been as trustworthy as the Lord Himself. Sure, a couple of the resistance bands had cracked and needed replacing, but they didn’t affect the operation of the rest of the machine. Plus, after over 12 years of trouble-free yet frequent use, one might have predicted that something would wear out eventually.
What did break, however, was totally unexpected. There is a bar used for one particular set of exercises that is pretty much central to the operation and usefulness of this machine. It’s made of two pieces of tubing welded together to form a single solid unit. Working without a hitch or sign of failure, it seemed virtually indestructible. Reality, however, proved to be much different from appearances, and within a few strong pushes, what had been one was rent asunder into two. But here’s the odd bit. I don’t have the two original pieces that were welded together no sitting separately on my workbench, because it wasn’t the weld that failed. The point where the two bars were attached remains as strong as ever, without any indication of weakness or a desire to give up the ghost. Instead, the metal around the joint failed and tore away from itself like the pull tab on a pop can.
I have to admit that I was pretty impressed with myself when I saw it. I mean, I had actually managed to rip open a piece of cold, hard steel. Well, OK, it was partly me and partly the 90 kilos of weight applied to the thing, but it was still pretty impressive, except for the fact that the darn thing is now broken beyond repair. The other thing that impressed me is the fact that the metal failed while the joint remained completely, solidly and unwaveringly intact.
It’s like that with our relationship with God. We are completely, solidly and unwaveringly bound to God. He is not just some half hearted creator who simply let us go when he finished making us. Nor is He a forgetful or changeable friend or father that is only interested in us on a whim. Neither are we separable from Him. Our relationship is always intact; we are always on His mind and in His heart.
Sin, however, can tear part of us from God. It rips us away from our loving Father and leaves us empty and incomplete. Yet unlike my poor exercise machine, the break is never absolute. At some level, our hearts are still bound to God, and God is always fully committed to us. There is no escaping His love, grace and mercy, because sin’s power just isn’t great enough. Yes, it can hurt us, yes, it can tear us apart, yes it can make us feel like God is totally and permanently ripped away from us, but God’s love is stronger than sin. If we let Him, he will heal what sin hurts; he will put back together way sin rends apart; and He will never, ever abandon us if we willingly seek Him out. Our bond is simply too great for that. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor March 8th, 2009
On a cool, dull day, driving through the local countryside, I happened upon a vision that I thought required extra care in handling my vehicle. There ahead of me, I spied what I thought was an icy patch on the road well ahead of me. Being cautious, I slowed down significantly in order not to slip slide away, but lo and behold, as I approached what I thought would be a treacherous bit of driving, the shiny surface of the road turned back to the normal colour of the rest of the pavement.
Not taking any risks, I drove slowly until I arrived at the spot and saw with my eyes and felt through the car that there was no danger at all. Speeding up and carrying on I soon saw another stretch of road that seemed ice covered and realized what was happening: I was seeing mirages, the same trick of the eye see on hot summer days. The shimmering I saw ahead of me, in hindsight, never did look like ice; but in the dead of winter, after having seen cars in the ditches on previous long distance drives, I wasn’t about to take any chances until I knew exactly what was happening.
It was an extremely rare occurrence. I don’t remember seeing anything like that other than in the summer, but I guess it’s not impossible during other times of the year. Highway mirages take place because of the difference in temperature the surface of the road is greater than the air temperature. The day I described happened to be a particularly cold one that followed a rather warm one. Thus, the road was hot, the air was cool, and I was privileged to enjoy (after the first fears were dispelled) to see a mirage in the middle of winter. It might have seemed out of place, but it really wasn’t; it was just a naturally occurring phenomenon in what was, to me, an unnatural time for it.
God’s place in the world is the most natural thing in creation. He belongs here as surely as you or I do. Yet modern science and society seem to be turning things around and claiming that God is not just an unnatural part of things, but merely the imaginary creation of a folks who should know better. The claim that God is the creator of all things and that God is in a loving relationship with that creation is more and more being described as a mirage or nothing more than the result of the difference between wild imaginations and weak brains.
For people of faith however, God is not a mirage, but a true living presence that is very much supported by a fully functioning brain and a completely rational thought process. Modern science helps explain how things work, but it cannot displace God’s role. Indeed, the more science comes up with to explain things, the more we need God in order to hold things together, because without a rational creator we delve too much into a cold, uncaring process of world and life building that more and more excludes the realities of love, altruism, self-sacrifice, mercy, grace and forgiveness.
These things are not mirages; love, altruism, self-sacrifice, mercy, grace and forgiveness lie at the very core of our humanity, and cannot be explained by any scientific means. Indeed, they are unique to us, and no other creature. If science can’t explain it, and they are not mirages, there must be another reason for their existence. That reason is God, the ultimate reality, even if He seems out of place in our modern world. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor March 1st, 2009
I’ve just watched a terrifying-comical-awesome video of a complete bozo narrowly escaping death. This genius from the narrow end of the gene pool thought it was a good idea to ignore the safety warnings and lowered bars at a level crossing, ran in front of a train, and managed to avoid getting hit by only a few millimeters. I have no idea what was going through his mind at the time, but I’m pretty sure his thought processes would not qualify him for a membership in Mensa, which only accepts folks with an extremely high IQ.
As a person of faith, I’m not big on luck, but this guy was lucky. As one who learned to drive in the traffic of Toronto, I’m used to cutting things close, but not as close as he did. As a “man” I occasionally forget that rules apply to me, too, but I would never bend them as much as this fellow did. At some point you’ve got to accept that there are things you shouldn’t do, even if doing them turns out OK.
It turns out that this person of rather limited judgment was eventually caught by the local constabulary. I’m not sure what happened after that, but I’m happy that there were non-injurious consequences to his folly. I’m not being mean-spirited; I realize that the narrowness of his escape probably taught him an important lesson and for some folks it might be consequence enough, but I think he still should answer to a higher authority. After all, the laws governing safety are there for a reason, and when you defy them you should be accountable to those who made the laws on your behalf.
We humans probably give God more than a few terrifying-comical-awesome moments. The way we skirt His laws and throw our lives on the line must surely cause Him moments of breathless anticipation or roll-on-the-ground laughter. That’s not why He established those commandments, but I’m sure it’s a part of His everyday reality; no matter how good or helpful He tries to be, we figure that we can get by on our own, with complete disregard for what God knows is right for us.
Our creator doesn’t want to keep us from having fun. He didn’t create the rules in order to hem us in or keep us under His thumb. They were devised for our safety and so that we would all have a common set of values. They are like the barriers at a railway crossing or the child-proof caps on medicine. God, however, doesn’t just stop at ordaining what we can’t do. He has also set into place laws that govern how we should act towards one another. One special law lords over and determines all others: it is the commandment to love the Lord our God with all our hearts, soul, mind and strength and to love our neighbour as ourselves.
There should be no skirting of this law because it is the one that offers us the greatest joy and fulfillment. It protects us by protecting others; it gives us joy by ensuring the joy of those around us. Above all, it unites us to the heart and soul of the one who loves us even when we push things a little more than we should. To follow this command is to act in the way that will not only keep us safe and healthy, but will also ensure that we never push God to the limit. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor February 22nd, 2009
I am in the midst of my annual study leave, pondering the eternal verities, being challenged by the thoughts of thinkers far beyond my meagre means, and generally trying to improve my somewhat beleaguered state of mind. It is a privilege extended to all ministers of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. Our denomination recognizes that we teachers and caregivers need to refresh and renew ourselves on a regular basis. Thus, our study leave provides us with the opportunity to step aside from our regular duties in order to be immersed in focussed study and reflection.
Mind you, it’s not as if study and reflection take place only once a year. Our role as teaching elder practically demands that we keep our minds sharp and ourselves well informed. But the role of teacher is one devoted to others; we work within our own skills, limits and interests, but it is always with an eye with providing for someone else. That means that our studies aren’t necessarily our own: we ponder and peruse our Bibles and theological texts in order to be a blessing to those within our flocks and our communities but this doesn’t always fulfill our own personal needs our help us in our path to spiritual and mental growth.
Our proscribed study leave gives us the opportunity to feed our souls needs. It allows us to separate ourselves from the needs of others so that we can feed our own spiritual needs, which in turn helps us do our work of teaching and caregiving all the better. It’s also an opportunity to explore new avenues of knowledge, test our own limits and perhaps even break out of old habits or mindsets that hinder our ability to serve.
As ministers, we have a special place within the church. We are charged with certain responsibilities, offered certain perks, and empowered to focus on the matters of faith for the benefit of our congregation. Yet being a minister is only a job, albeit a pretty amazing and wonderful one, that might distinguish us in some ways, but doesn’t make us any different from any other human being. We all share in a similar spiritual hunger; we are bound by the same rules of conduct; we are all called to serve God in some way; we are all threatened by the power of sin; we are all asked to know our heavenly Father, His Son, and the Holy Spirit, as closely and as intimately as we know ourselves.
I get study leave in order to help me with these human needs. Its a blessing I deeply appreciate and make use of every year. What about you? Have you taken time to explore your own faith? Have you seized the opportunity to know God, His Son, or the Holy Spirit a bit better? Have you challenged yourself with a good book or a determined study of a confusing or difficult bit of the Bible? In other words, have you taken some study leave, even for the briefest time?
It’s not a matter of length; I’m not talking about a week, or a whole day. An hour here and there would suffice. Just a few minutes of dedicated daily reflection would help. It’s not an option, it’s a blessing. However you manage it, it’s worth the time and effort. After all, God knows us inside out, and He loves for everything we are. In turn, knowing Him as best we can can only bring us closer to our loving, heavenly God. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor February 15th, 2009
I’m sending out a big “Happy Birthday” to the father of evolution, Charles Darwin. Today his birth is being celebrated in various ways, in assorted places, for a number of reasons. Some are rejoicing in the scientific breakthrough he made in explaining the origins and development of all human life. Some are celebrating his journeys and adventurous spirit. Other are celebrating the way he brought rational thinking into a world dominated by not so rational thinking. Pick your reason, and you too can celebrate the birth of this noted and significant scientist.
Me, I’m not going to do too much. I am what I would call a hard scientist, preferring physics and mechanics to biology. Plus, I have certain differences with Darwin that would, if he were alive today, not have me enjoying a pint of beer with him to celebrate his birthday. I believe in a God created world; Darwin does not, and that is a pretty wide gulf to bridge. Sure, I admire his methods and respect his research techniques, but I’m not entirely convinced of his results. Those differences are enough to keep us apart in a social, friendly way, which might not seem nice of me, but is nevertheless a personal reality for me.
Mind you, if Darwin were alive today, and he was in dire straights physically, emotionally or spiritually, and he were to request my help, I certainly wouldn’t turn him down. A person in need is a person in need, and if they happen to need me, then no matter what differences we might have on certain topics, I wouldn’t let those stand in the way of my being there for that person. On the other hand, I wouldn’t necessarily be close friends with them, simply because we wouldn’t share the same personal interests. In other words, there are times when my personal preferences have to give way to my professional ones. I might not want to have Darwin as a friend, but there is no reason for me to ever deny him the best of my care-giving abilities.
Jesus was a carpenter’s step-son, and a Rabbit, or teacher. He was the Son of God and He danced to a different tune to the trained professionals that served as God’s priests and the leaders of the temple. Yet those differences didn’t keep Jesus from teaching, serving and helping the folks that otherwise were completely different from him. As a carpenter’s step-son, He wouldn’t have had much in common with tax-collectors, yet he spent time with them. As a man used to gainful employment in the workshop or kept busy studying and teaching in the temple, he would have had little in common with the poor or the widow, yet he made time for them as well. As the Son of God, perfect and sinless and all-powerful, he had little in common with the human beings with whom he shared a fully physical existence, yet they were objects of His full and undivided attention. Jesus might have had heavenly connections, but you can be sure that the angels were the last folks to see him while he was in the flesh.
We might not get along with our neighbours for a number of reasons, but when they need us, God asks us to set aside our differences and serve them should they ask. It might not be easy, and it might not make sense, but it is the right thing to do because, despite what some folks claim, it’s not about us. It’s about God, and His desire for all creation to know, love and enjoy Him. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor February 8th, 2009
As I stepped out the front door the other day, I was aware of certain flaky bits of crystalized water falling on me, that is, I was being shall we say, showered by snowflakes, even though it wasn’t actually snowing at the time. No, the flakes that were falling were not making their descent from clouds way up yonder; they were simply falling from the trees that surround my house. The snowfall from the night before was so thick and heavy that everything, even bare branches, had more than their fair share of the stuff. The snow itself, however, was that very light and fluffy stuff that blows around with the slightest of breeze. Thus, when I stepped out, there was just enough wind to cause this most unexpected, but not unpleasant, snowfall.
Call it a residual snowfall, the effects of a previous event felt hours later. Sometimes you get it from trees; sometimes from cars. I’m sure most of you have experienced being caught in a great snowstorm when trailing behind a car that not been cleared of snowed before getting underway. If it’s that light fluffy stuff, and if there’s enough of it, it’s just like being caught in a blizzard, even if the skies are bright and sunny.
Sometimes the residual effects of a good snowfall are felt in the form of a cold, unpleasant rain. Once the weather starts warming up, the white stuff that’s accumulated on rooftops starts melting and overflowing the eavestroughs, resulting in an icy deluge that always seems to find the gap between ones collar and the back of ones neck. Or else the flood comes from below, as cars or pedestrians kick up great streams of wet dirty water from puddles or streams of melting snow.
Residual effects, the leftovers from previous events, have a great impact on our Christian life as well. The biggest one is the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. That one-time occurrence has been felt by every individual in every generation that follows. While natives in small remote tribes might not have heard His name directly, the expansion of civilization that impacts their lifestyle is an indirect but traceable result of the effect Jesus had on western society. More immediately, Jesus’ forgiveness and salvation has had a positive result in countless lives, and will continue to do so until God decides to do something different.
At times, Jesus enters our lives directly; at other times, He enters by more indirect means, so that it is we that either cause or feel the residual effects of His life. If we’re careful and faithful, these residual effects can be wonderful and affirmatively life-changing. If we’re careless, they can turn people off God in ways not even the devil himself could accomplish.
Residual effects can happen at any time. We can control them to a degree, if we’re conscious and prayerful in sharing our faith or following Christ’s example, but they don’t always happen when we expect them. The simplest Christlike gesture can have as deep an impact as the most overt act of love and charity. What’s most amazing about such residual effects is that, unlike the tiny bit of leftover snow that sometimes falls from a tree branch with little or no effect, even the slightest residual effect we share from Christ’s grace, love or mercy is every bit as powerful as it would be if Jesus himself had done it. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor February 1st, 2009
I used to have a favourite shirt way back when during my High School days. It was white, with red and blue lines neatly ordered and arranged to cover the white with little coloured squares. I remember wearing it a lot, day after day, for quite a while. Not necessarily for weeks on end, mind you. My mother would never have let me go more than two or three days at a time before washing it, but it certainly was a frequently worn fashion item.
Then, almost overnight, I discovered girls, a discovery that profoundly changed everything about what I wore, when I wore it, and how I took care of myself before wearing anything. Shirts now had to be stylish; outfits were never worn more than once; Weekly baths became daily shower marathons; deodorants were augmented with hair care products, scented shaving cream , after-shave and cologne. And in case you’re thinking I stunk to high heaven with all these scented items, rest assured that my mother’s attention to detail ensured that I never went too far with the smelly pretty stuff. Plus, it was all the rage at the time.
It’s amazing how much more aware of myself I became once I discovered that girls actually care about how you look, smell and act. Suddenly the mirror went from someplace where I could test my funny faces to a place of careful self-examination. Department stores, which had been a great place to wander in order to poke or test all the display items, suddenly became the last place I wanted to be; after all, there were all kinds of men’s fashion stores with real clothes. And of course, diet and exercise, which had never been that interesting or important, took on new significance.
All these changes gradually became part of my lifestyle. Some, like the after-shave and colognes have fallen by the wayside. Others, like my love of fashion stores, have been greatly reduced; but all, in one way or another are part of who I am. I’m very conscious of how I look; I shower at least once a day, change clothes every day, and always try to put my best face forward. In other words, discovering girls permanently changed my life for the better.
Sometimes folks have the same kind of change when they finally encounter God. Suddenly they see a new way of understanding themselves and change their lives accordingly. But all too often the changes don’t take; the initial excitement passes away as quickly as a summer romance, and God vanishes from their lives as fast as He first entered in.
My discovery of girls helped make me complete. Overnight I realized there was more to life than just me and my family. I needed somebody to make my physical existence complete. Folks that find and hold onto God have the same experience. They realize how empty they were spiritually and find total fulfillment in their relationship with God. Those for whom God is only a passing fancy, on the other hand, are only interested in what He can offer them right away; In the mean time, they still focus on themselves.
Those passing fancies are fun, but ultimately unsatisfying. Only when we commit to God can we find the fulfillment and joy we need to make us truly complete. And unlike girls, (or guys) it doesn’t matter what we wear or how we smell. All God wants is our love and devotion, in whatever form it takes. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor January 25th, 2009
I’ve just finished helping my secretary, Janet, make use of one of the many features available on her new printer. Janet is a bright capable woman who is the epitome of the great secretary. She is not, however, as experienced in the technical arts as I am, which means that she is not nearly as fully versed in either mumbo-jumbo or gibberish as I am.
You see, in extricating a much desired functionality of her new device, we had to decipher the manufacturer’s attempts at clarity. All Janet wanted to do was scan a document, that is, to have the printer “read” the words directly into her computer. It’s called scanning in most places I’ve ever done it. The manufacturer, however, didn’t simply include a program called scanning, or scan or Iscan or anything like that. No, that would have been too obvious. Instead, they offered us the “Solution Center.” Maybe that’s clear to you, but to Janet it was not so obvious, and to me it sounded more like a complaint department than a place to go and do useful work.
Nevertheless, something in the back of my mind, something from way back in the days I used to fix computers for a living, started talking technical gibberish, at which point I realized that the “Solution Center” probably meant the place where you go to scan or do other useful things with the printer. As a result we pushed the button and sure enough, Janet is now fully versed in document scanning.
That’s the problem with Human Beings, sometimes. We speak in code, saying what we mean without making it clear as to what we’re saying or what we mean. Sometimes it’s a misguided attempt to be clever or helpful, like the not-so-obvious intent of the “Solution Center.” Sometimes it’s actually a matter of trying to hide an uncomfortable truth, as we so often do in our attempts to be politically correct. And sometimes we obfuscate matters simply because we don’t actually know what we’re talking about.
When Moses met God for the first time, he didn’t do the typical man thing and ask the Almighty what He did. Instead, Moses asked God for His name, and was told “I am that I am.” Now, I don’t know about you, but that’s not much help; it’s a rather mysterious name that has caused much debate as to what exactly it means. But this is the Almighty we’re dealing with here. It’s OK if His name is mysterious to us, because there’s a lot we don’t, and can’t possibly, know about the one that simply thought creation into existence.
It takes we human beings to confuse things and make them complicated. Rather than call a scanner a scanner we talk about “Solution Centers.” Instead of referring to Jesus as our Saviour we tone Him down to our buddy or pal and rather than letting God be who He is, we try to rename Him and fashion Him into our own politically correct and socially inoffensive “Solution Center.”
God, however speaks the truth clearly and without confusion, and He calls us to do the same thing. Jesus might be our “Solution Center” in some ways, but the truth is, He is first and foremost humanity’s Saviour. He is Immanuel, “God with us.” He is plainly and simply, the name above all names, the one we can call on directly to set us straight about who and what we are. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor January 18th, 2009
In the course of singing tunes like “Winter Wonderland,” “Baby, it’s cold outside” or “Sleigh Ride,” you get a sense of the fun things about winter, but not about Christmas, which is when these songs are usually sung. Why we don’t keep singing winter songs while in the midst of a season so significant and so long-lasting, is beyond me. Of course, as a person of faith, why certain songs are called Christmas songs is also beyond me.
Well, okay, not totally beyond me; I’m not so thick as to miss the connection between Christmas and songs like “So this is Christmas,” “The Christmas Song,” or even “Grandma got run over by a reindeer.” The theme is clearly in the title or the content, so these songs are distinct from the ones we should truly sing only in celebration of the snow and the temperature falling. Yet to call them Christmas songs doesn’t sit too well with me, because they only refer to the season, but don’t speak to the true meaning of our annual festivities. In other words, they talk about Christmas, without saying what Jesus, His birth, His church or His people represent.
If this were a party, (which I guess it really is) then the winter songs we sing would be the uninvited guests that aren’t too offensive to be thrown out. Meanwhile the Christmas-like songs would be the posers that come for the food, but couldn’t care less about the host or any of the other guests. Only the ones that make a direct connection with Jesus and what he stood for are those that truly belong.
I have mixed feelings about this state of affairs. On the one hand, I would prefer that we keep the Christ in Christmas, and stick to the songs that are true and relevant to His entrance into this world. On the other hand, all those songs, relevant or not, still put me and a lot of other folks in the mood for celebrating Jesus birthday. So, while it would be great to remember that in every song we sing for the season, if the other tunes and words help recall the joy and excitement that Jesus’ entry into our lives offers, I’m all for it. In fact, such borderline tunes can serve as a stepping stone for people of faith to share the true meaning of Christmas.
God uses whatever means necessary to get His message across. Now, I don’t mean He uses violence or suffering to force the issue; I mean that He uses whatever methods are in line with His love, grace and mercy. Whether it’s a happy song celebrating something vaguely Christmasy, someone “paying it forward” with an act of kindness, or an opportunity to let others see Christ in action, God provides lots of opportunities for folks to know that He is alive and well and working for humanities benefit.
Even a silly song praising the joys of bells ringing on the harness of a fast moving horse can point to God. It speaks to the joy God offers us not just with jingling bells, but with the wonders that winter has to offer. Grandma might have gotten run over by a reindeer...
...well, I admit I’m stumped with that one. But generally, even if the songs do nothing but build excitement around the time we celebrate Jesus’ birth, then folks who love and serve Him can build on that excitement by sharing the meaning of the season. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor January 11th, 2009
It is January, we are well into winter, and there is snow on the ground. There’s not a whole pile of snow, certainly not enough to call it a “Winter Wonderland,” but there is enough to remind a person that it’s a winter something or other out there. Mind you, despite the relatively small quantity of that white powdery stuff, the temperature was certainly enough to say to oneself: “Baby, it’s cold outside.” On the other hand, during a recent stay in Toronto, the thermostat registered rather mild conditions, but there was more snow than we have here. In fact, it was enough to enjoy the “Jingle Bells” of a nice, brisk “Sleigh Ride” if one were so inclined.
Now, those of you who are rather musically inclined, or who have radios in the house, or who haven’t spent the last ten or so weeks in total seclusion from the rest of the world, might have noticed something rather odd about the last few days. If you’re wondering what that might be, take a look at the first paragraph of this reflection again, and take note of the words in quotation marks. Each of those phrases refers to a winter song. They sing about snow and cold and all the other things that happen during this particular season. They speak of the things we do, both the frustrations and the joys of the season. And, for some reason that I have yet to understand, we call them Christmas Songs. What’s more, and what’s particularly odd about these songs, is that when we really need them, we don’t hear them.
Think about it for a moment. Once the hustle and bustle of Christmas is over, all the good winter songs sung to help usher in the birth of the baby stop getting sung or played on the radio, and that, I think, is a shame. It’s also typical of us human beings. Sometimes we get so excited about our familiar routines that we stop thinking about why we do them. Think about those winter songs for a moment. Why do we play them only in anticipation of Christmas. They don’t really have anything to do with the birth of Christ, so they really aren’t suited to the Christian season. In fact, considering the rather warm climate enjoyed by Jesus, those songs are really off the mark. They do, however, speak to the realities of snow and cold and all that’s associated with the winter, so there’s no reason we can’t enjoy them as soon as the snow flies, right up to the time Spring makes it’s rainy entrance.
But, like I said, it’s human nature to get stuck in a rut and not think about what we’re doing or why, and that’s OK, in a way. It’s OK because God is constantly challenging us and encouraging us to break out of our routines. The seasons of our lives change, just as the year goes through different cycles. God sends new people our way; He puts us in new and maybe even uncomfortable situations. One way or another, God makes sure that we either find a way to break free from our ruts so we can head in a more productive direction, or at least gives us relief from our routine so that we can appreciate the things we enjoy all the more.
It’s still winter outside. The snow is on the ground. Christmas is over, but Jesus keeps moving through our lives. The song might not have anything to do with His birth or the Christmas season, but I think a nice rendition of “Winter Wonderland” would do very well to celebrate the unique gifts God provides during this cold, refreshing time of the year. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor January 4th, 2009
As a true and honest fan of technology, I tend to look not just to technological realities, but to fantasy as well. While it’s good to be grounded in high quality, reliable and proven science, every once in a while it’s fun to do a little dreaming and examine some “what if?” scenarios, and even to study what might be called science-imaginary, let alone science fiction.
Let me make a clear distinction here: Science fiction has a solid basis in science fact. The fictional part has to do with imagining the possibilities within the reality of what scientific research has seen in part but does not yet fully understand. Science-imaginary, on the other hand, tends to leave real, hard science behind and starts fresh, developing, (or most honestly, imagining) things that might be, but have never been hinted at by what more mainstream scientists have discovered or posited so far.
Science fiction includes such things as warp drives, teleportation and robots indistinguishable from real folks like you and me. Science imaginary, on the other hand, posits things like over unity energy. Warp drives, engines that operate by bending space, and teleportation, the ability to go from place to place without visiting the space in between, have been hinted at by some of the more esoteric branches of physics. Meanwhile, life-like robots are ever more a possibility given the advancing state of computer and bio-mechanical research. Over unity energy, however, is in the realm of folks who believe aliens built the pyramids and that Elvis is alive and living on another planet.
You see, over unity energy means that you can get more out of something than you first put in. Folks who believe in this stuff imagine that you can take a simple battery, say for a flashlight, and use it to turn a generator that can power a stadium full of lights. It’s as is you put one egg in a fridge, and you get a hundred mature chickens. That’s Science imaginary. It’s a highly refined state of mind that imagines what it wants, and disregards everything else, including real science, and most likely, actual brain-generated thought.
Religion is often seen as the art of giving up on true reality and forging ones own. Many scientists believe, for instance, that we Christians, or anyone who believes in God, have it all wrong, and that science is all that you need to understand the world, and how to live the best life possible. Such folks I would suggest are the ones living in a land of imagination. The harder you look at the world, and the more honestly you look at what makes humans tick, and the more you realize that there must be something beyond what we know and see. There is too much logic in the universe for it to have sprung from random, unorganized events. There is too much in common in all living beings for them to have popped up from some lucky combination of chemicals. And in what is perhaps the greatest proof of all, there is too great a spiritual need in all humans to say that our need for God is just a crutch.
Of course, the irony is that even scientists who don’t believe in God end up believing in science. Such is humanities spiritual need: anything will do, for some folks, I guess. Me, I’d rather believe in the one that believes in us so much that He sent His only Son to set things straight. The fact of that Son is seen every day in lives changed for the better, changes which are a proven fact, and in no way imaginary or fictional. At least that’s the way I see it.
The Pensive Pastor, April 26th, 2009
In an effort to be totally transparent and completely honest in all my dealings with family, friends and co-workers, I must make what may be to some a shocking, or at least disturbing confession. Sadly, at least according to the rest of my family, I am an unabashed and thoroughly proud lover of those delectably salty delights known commonly as anchovies. Anchovies are simply heavily brined little fish which, unfortunately, are vastly unappreciated in this MacDonalds gulping, frozen-pizza chomping world.
My enjoyment of this unappreciated taste sensation has caused my family much laughter and joviality at my expense. It has also provoked them to unwarranted gagging motions, and the occasional questioning of both my good taste and my sanity. I, however, remain steadfast, undaunted and undented in my enjoyment of those delicious delicacies. Never mind what other folks think, or even threats of being excluded from wills or being barred from visiting fine pizza establishments with my family should I order the things, I love anchovies, both on my pizza and in Caesar salad dressing.
Perhaps you too are wondering at my sanity or good taste. How can such an otherwise rational and normal seeming fellow like Pastor John have such disgusting taste in food? you might ask. My response is simple and unapologetic. I like ‘em, whether or not anybody else does. It’s not that I’m purposefully going against the crowd, forcing myself to eat anchovies simply to be different, or to appear clever, or just to be annoying. I genuinely enjoy them. That’s all there is to it. Some people like beets, a pleasure I can neither share nor fathom. Other folks like fruitcake, a gastronomic creation that is completely beyond my reckoning. Me, I like anchovies. Case closed.
In Jesus’ time folks were often shocked and offended by the people he chose as friends or dining companions. Religious authorities wondered why Jesus would be seen with Samaritans, considered the social lepers of the day. They questioned is choice of eating with tax collectors or other sinners. I’m sure they didn’t think too much about his habit of hanging out with sick folks either. Jesus, however, remained steadfast in his choice of companions. Why sometimes he even spent time with the religious leaders themselves, teaching in the temple or by simply deigning to answer their various accusations or rude inquiries. Jesus was who he was, and chose who he wanted to be with, regardless of what other people said, thought, or did.
The result is that Jesus excluded no on who was willing to include him. All who touched the hem of his robe for help, or invited him in to dinner, or challenged him, or simply wanted to be with him, were answered in the affirmative. That’s good news for all of us, no matter where we stand in the sight of others. Whether it’s a pop-star on the skids, a politician in deep trouble or a hopeless alcoholic, Jesus will answer an invitation into their lives, should it come. It doesn’t matter what tabloids tell, pundits posit, or society suggests. He doesn’t care about what others think; all he cares about is caring for us. That’s what He asks of us too. He asks us to disregard what others might say, and to love those who seem like he least likely candidates for our attention. It’s worth doing, friends, because ultimately the only opinion about us that matters is Jesus’ own. At least that’s the way I see it.
In an effort to be totally transparent and completely honest in all my dealings with family, friends and co-workers, I must make what may be to some a shocking, or at least disturbing confession. Sadly, at least according to the rest of my family, I am an unabashed and thoroughly proud lover of those delectably salty delights known commonly as anchovies. Anchovies are simply heavily brined little fish which, unfortunately, are vastly unappreciated in this MacDonalds gulping, frozen-pizza chomping world.
My enjoyment of this unappreciated taste sensation has caused my family much laughter and joviality at my expense. It has also provoked them to unwarranted gagging motions, and the occasional questioning of both my good taste and my sanity. I, however, remain steadfast, undaunted and undented in my enjoyment of those delicious delicacies. Never mind what other folks think, or even threats of being excluded from wills or being barred from visiting fine pizza establishments with my family should I order the things, I love anchovies, both on my pizza and in Caesar salad dressing.
Perhaps you too are wondering at my sanity or good taste. How can such an otherwise rational and normal seeming fellow like Pastor John have such disgusting taste in food? you might ask. My response is simple and unapologetic. I like ‘em, whether or not anybody else does. It’s not that I’m purposefully going against the crowd, forcing myself to eat anchovies simply to be different, or to appear clever, or just to be annoying. I genuinely enjoy them. That’s all there is to it. Some people like beets, a pleasure I can neither share nor fathom. Other folks like fruitcake, a gastronomic creation that is completely beyond my reckoning. Me, I like anchovies. Case closed.
In Jesus’ time folks were often shocked and offended by the people he chose as friends or dining companions. Religious authorities wondered why Jesus would be seen with Samaritans, considered the social lepers of the day. They questioned is choice of eating with tax collectors or other sinners. I’m sure they didn’t think too much about his habit of hanging out with sick folks either. Jesus, however, remained steadfast in his choice of companions. Why sometimes he even spent time with the religious leaders themselves, teaching in the temple or by simply deigning to answer their various accusations or rude inquiries. Jesus was who he was, and chose who he wanted to be with, regardless of what other people said, thought, or did.
The result is that Jesus excluded no on who was willing to include him. All who touched the hem of his robe for help, or invited him in to dinner, or challenged him, or simply wanted to be with him, were answered in the affirmative. That’s good news for all of us, no matter where we stand in the sight of others. Whether it’s a pop-star on the skids, a politician in deep trouble or a hopeless alcoholic, Jesus will answer an invitation into their lives, should it come. It doesn’t matter what tabloids tell, pundits posit, or society suggests. He doesn’t care about what others think; all he cares about is caring for us. That’s what He asks of us too. He asks us to disregard what others might say, and to love those who seem like he least likely candidates for our attention. It’s worth doing, friends, because ultimately the only opinion about us that matters is Jesus’ own. At least that’s the way I see it.
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