December 13th

In the course of my role as a Teaching Elder (one of the official titles I have as a minister in the Presbyterian Church in Canada) I have discovered that there are two ways I teach. Now, I’m sure that professional educators may have something to say about this, and I accept your input, but this is what I’ve discovered on my own.
One way I teach is by simply sharing information. That is, I offer facts, figures or whatever I have to offer to, what is effectively, a clean slate. In this mode I’m kind of like a filled vessel filling up an empty one, except that the process doesn’t empty me. This is what happens after I’ve done some research in to the Bible and share that new discovery from the pulpit. I do it when someone doesn’t know anything about a subject I’m keen on, and they too want to share that interest. Sometimes it even happens here in these Pensive Pastors. In fact, it’s happening right now. I am sharing something about myself that I’ve just discovered. Hopefully it’s not too boring; certainly it’s not necessarily new to professional educators, and that leads me to my second method of teaching.
Sometimes rather that pass on something new, I simply retell and reinforce something already known. Now, you might be saying, well, what is the point of that? If I know something, what good is it you teaching me all over again. Well, the point is that sometimes folks know a thing without being certain they are right, or even realizing that they know it. In fact, there are times when people come for help, and all I really have to do is teach them that they already have the answer, and need simply to extract it and act on it.
Mind you, this isn’t always a straightforward proposition. Sometimes a person doesn’t realize how smart they really are. Sometimes they don’t think they have any clue. And sometimes they just don’t believe in themselves enough to trust their own instincts. For those folks, my teaching is not so much about imparting information, but helping them extract both what they already know, and also they confidence they need in their own genius.
I think God teaches us that way to. God knows we have the answers, but that we either don’t realize it, or don’t trust them. So, while there are times God teaches us as if we were a blank slate, more often than not, He knows we already know the answer. Take the 10 Commandments, for instance. We know them not just from Sunday school, but because what they say is in our hearts anyway; that’s why they make so much sense when we hear them read out for the first time. Their truth lies within us; we just need to get it out with the help of the one who put it there in the first place.
It’s the same thing with God’s love, the love we are supposed to have for Him, ourselves, and our neighbours. It doesn’t have to be taught; we just have to put it into practice as well as be reminded of its truth once in a while. But I bet you knew that already, because as a child of God, you don’t need to be taught something like that by someone like me. At least that’s the way I see it.

December 6th

If you read last week’s PP, you’ll realize I’m on a bit of “mind” kick. If you haven’t, well, let me just share with you that I’ve been thinking a lot about thinking and intelligence recently. For instance, I could, if asked, explain to you how an “old school” tube television works. I can even tell you the amazing story of how it was invented, and by whom, and the fact that the inventor was only fourteen (14!!!) years old when he came up with the idea. What I cannot tell you, is where in the world that young man found his inspiration for sending pictures through the air, or the ensuing device that he eventually took from concept to reality.
Most folks consider themselves to be acceptably intelligent. We all know how to work our way through the world without getting into too much trouble. Many folks can even make change without resorting to computers, calculators or a diligent application of fingers and toes. Yet there is a greater intelligence that allows some folks, like the young inventor of television, to go beyond what the rest of us think and to come up with something entirely new. Whether it’s electronics or music, chemistry or literature, fashion or the human mind, some people are able to see beyond what is and to imagine not only what might be, but what needs to be done to get there.
We call these creative minds geniuses. We praise them (rightfully so) and wish we were like them (again, rightfully so) and generally put them on pedestals or offer them accolades. At times, when the ideas are too radical, or they differ from what is common practice, or they just seem too weird, we give their progenitors a rough ride, but for the most part, clever creators tend to be respected and admired.
What really amazes me about this process, however is the thought that no matter what new idea might be devised, no matter how brilliant a fresh thought might be, no matter how amazingly useful and creative an original concept may turn out to be, they are never as new, fresh, creative or original as we might think in the first place.
Why do I say such a thing? Well, it’s pretty simple really. No human can ever come up with anything entirely new because God has been there first. The mind that created all that there is, and that sees that all creation operates as it should, is both timeless and infinite. There is no thought that hans’t already run through God’s mind; there is no invention that He hans’t devised and perfected, no dream he hans’t considered. Wherever our creative minds might lead us, God has already been.
Now, this concept isn’t meant to diminish our human creative geniuses. I just want to set the record straight and acknowledge that all human wisdom comes from God himself. Sure, there are some folks who are pretty amazingly smart and original, and they deserve our praise. But for every word of praise we offer the brilliant human, we should also offer a few words to the genius beyond all human capacity that put those thoughts there in the first place. At least that’s the way I see it.

November 22nd

A friend and colleague in ministry recently lamented one of his tasks within the church. Belonging to a national organization with assorted layers of governance means we Presbyterian ministers all have to share in the work and where different hats. One of those hats fit Jeff rather poorly the other day; you see, it got in the way of his pastor on vacation cap, causing undue discomfort. This was made all the more difficult since that alternate hat was one he normally likes to wear. Thus, Jeff’s lament seemed very poignant.
It’s bad enough when we have conflict with others over our time management. When we do it to ourselves, however, it’s even more frustrating. Now, I’m not berating Jeff his choice of doing his job despite the fact that he was on vacation, but sometimes lines have to be drawn. Oh, I know the arguments, I know that emergencies creep up, or that we’re the only ones that can do the job, or that others are counting on us, or that we should “just-stop-whining-and-get-on-with-it-because-there-are-dozens-of-people-out-there-who-would-love-our-job,” but I also know that sometimes you just have to say no.
No is a good word. It’s short, it’s easy to spell, and more importantly, it’s immediately understood. It also is very powerful, leaving little or no room for negotiation, dickering or general bargaining. It’s also sufficiently compact and economical to be repeated as often as necessary to get the point across. Jeff, I think, should have said “No.” Not out of meanness or spitefulness, but because it would have helped him enjoy his time off and not begrudge a duty he normally enjoys. It also helps him set and keep limits so that others can understand that when Pastor Jeff is on vacation, then so are all the other various titles he has as a member of the Presbyterian Church in Canada.
God, I believe, understands and appreciates a good “No.” If we’re being pushed beyond our limits or into unhealthy zones, God lets us turn away. If sin tempts us, God likes it when we refuse. When we get a dumb idea in our heads, or are invited to share in someone else’s folly, God smiles when we’re smart enough to turn it down. God also likes a good strong “Yes,” there’s no doubt about that, but in order for our affirmative responses to have real meaning, we also have to be able to say “No.” Without that ability, without that healthy balance, not only would we keep piling up things to do, we would also become robots acting without thought or understanding. After all, if you are going to say “No” you had better have good reasons, just as God would expect us to have good reasons for saying yes.
It might seem strange for me to suggest that sometimes the right answer, even to God, is a “No,” but because God works both through us, and those around us, we have to discern what really is and isn’t God’s will for us. Thus, as odd as it may feel there are occasions when the only possible, logical and irrefutable answer is indeed: “No.” At least that’s the way I see it.