Wednesday, August 29, 2018

“Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?” (Matthew 6:27, New Living Translation)

                 I immediately thought of these words from Jesus after reading the Sunday comic strip, Frazz – a strip about the encounters of first graders with the adults in their world, mostly teachers.

                One of the boys is drinking a cup of coffee, explaining that he had heard that coffee can add a few days to your life. “And I could use a few before summer vacation ends.” One of the adults explains to him that he doesn’t get to choose where those extra days go and that they go “at the end.” The lad is very disappointed. “That’s not when I want to use them.”

                Many of us can share the sentiment. I, for one, don’t understand why the ancients added an extra day in a leap year on to February, the cruelest, winter month; why not add one day to July, in the summer? But I digress…

                Lots of people wish they had more time for one thing or another in their lives. Some complain that there are not enough hours in the day to do all that is necessary. Others find it hard to juggle the hours for family events, work, activities, appointments and various schedules and agendas. Just ask many a busy parent! Some wish they had more time to enjoy life a little more. Some people have bucket lists of the things they would like to accomplish before they pass this mortal coil. There is not enough time to get to them all. In a few cases, like sky diving, race car driving, etc., these things might actually shorten your days, but, hey, it’s your life. Sometimes, my bucket list includes just successfully getting out of bed in the morning. To each their own.

                There is a lot of popular advice about how we live each day.

                “Live one day at a time.”

                “Live like today is the first day of your life.”

                “Live to day like it is the last day of your life.”

                “Live and let live.”

                “Eat, drink and be merry; for tomorrow there might not be any.”

                “Don’t worry; be happy!”

                But no matter, none of us can actually make any day have 25 hours. None of us can add a 13 o’clock to our watches. None of us can stretch time, manipulate time, freeze time, hold off time, delay time, ignore time, or add a single moment to our lives.

It’s not that I am a fatalist or believe that all life is pre-determined or even being passive when it comes to time. Time is one of those sacred mysteries with which we must come to terms. We are mortals within the context of time passing. There are times when I wish God had come up with a better idea than old age or helped us better deal with it and our human fragility. “Seventy years are given to us! Some even live to eighty. But even the best years are filled with pain and trouble; soon they disappear, and we fly away.” (Psalm 90:10)

Be that as it may, it is never too late to make the best out of whatever we time we still have. To fill our days with worry, fear and angst only depletes our existence and sacrifices the beauty and meaning of our lives to the demons and hobgoblins which bewitch us into despair, pessimism, hopelessness and fruitlessness. With worry we surrender to the dictates of time instead of giving ourselves permission to be free and enjoy the days we have.

The gift of faith in Jesus Christ is that we find trust, assurances, strength, joy and hope to make the most of our time, to live each and every day with confidence, love, peace and the ability to meet life and therefore time head on, to live not with regrets nor with lost opportunities, but to engage life with a vibrant spirit of expectation and anticipation of what is coming next, be it on earth or as it will be in heaven. “The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.” (Lamentations 3:22 -23)

Dale  

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Meanwhile, the disciples were in trouble far away from land, for a strong wind had risen, and they were fighting heavy waves. About three o’clock in the morning Jesus came toward them, walking on the water. When the disciples saw him walking on the water, they were terrified. In their fear, they cried out, “It’s a ghost!” But Jesus spoke to them at once. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Take courage. I am here! ” Then Peter called to him, “Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to come to you, walking on the water.” “Yes, come,” Jesus said. So Peter went over the side of the boat and walked on the water toward Jesus. But when he saw the strong wind and the waves, he was terrified and began to sink. “Save me, Lord!” he shouted. Jesus immediately reached out and grabbed him. “You have so little faith,” Jesus said. “Why did you doubt me?” (Matthew 14: 24 -31, New Living Translation)

                Lake Erie was doing its own imitation of the storm on the Sea of Galilee!

                A nice morning turned dark as the storm swept in upon us. The waves had already been crashing over the dark grey, granite boulders in front of our lake house, but now they furiously stormed and smashed way over the rocks and spray and water was pelting the house. The waves were roiling and rolling as they waters turned grey with huge, swelling whitecaps. Then the brunt of the storm finally hit. Rains teemed down in buckets. Hail fell the size of marbles and clacked hard against the windows. Small limbs of trees were ripped off by gale force winds. Even heavy deck furniture was heaved aside. Lake Erie was dangerous and treacherous. It was both fascinating and terrifying to witness.

                This storm happened on our last Thursday of our vacation. It lasted about an hour as we watched the storm clouds finally move on, leaving us a clean-up on the deck. Nothing serious was broken or lost. Eventually the sun shone again.

                Earlier in our stay I had noticed a small blade of grass growing out of one of the boulders. Grass is occasionally used in scripture as a metaphor for human mortality, vulnerability and frailty.  “Are we no more to you than a wispy dream, no more than a blade of grass…?” (Psalm 90:5, The Message Bible) But this little stalk was being rather defiant and therefore, alone noteworthy, suggesting a metaphor for persistence, perseverance and just plain doggedness.  It was growing out of sheer rock which alone begs for me to make the rather obvious connection that God through Jesus Christ is the rock of our faith to whom we cling. “The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety.” (Psalm 18:2, NLT)

                So, I was quite curious to find out whether that little blade of grass survived the storm or not. And sure enough, there it was, still clinging to the rock, looking as sturdy as ever, and not torn away by the severity of the storm it has just endured.

                Once more, the human interpretation of this living parable is striking. “From the ends of the earth, I cry to you for help when my heart is overwhelmed. Lead me to the towering rock of safety…” (Psalm 61:2, NLT)

                For a brief moment Peter got it – he welled up his courage and faith and stepped out of the boat and he, too, boldly stood in defiance of the storm. But then he saw where he was and the strong winds and the big waves and his faith faltered and he began to sink. The storm overwhelmed him, caused him anxiety and fear, took hold of his heart and soul and he began to drown. “Save me!” – which is what any one us will cry out in troubled times, threatening circumstances or frightening situations.

                Jesus extended his hand and caught Peter before he went under. Jesus was somewhat disappointed that Peter and the other disciples had so little faith that they had not listened to him when he had called for them to take courage because he was right there, with them.

                The things you think of when you contemplate a small blade of grass…

Dale

Wednesday, August 15, 2018

“Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious - the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.” (Philippians 4:8, The Message Bible)

                “You need to make better choices.”

                Our five-year-old grandson, William, hears this admonition on a semi-regular basis. It usually happens just after he has “tormented” his three-year old brother, Henry, in some fashion – as big brothers are wont to do. (Susan and I cringe at some of the horror stories which Nathaniel tells about Nicholas, even though, by some miracle they are good friends as adults.)

                William will run by and swat or push or touch or interfere with or wilfully taunt his little brother. Henry cries and then William is given The Lecture: “You need to make better choices.”  I suspect that as far as he was concerned, it was a perfectly reasonable, good choice at the time, along with its desired effects.

 I should also point out that we, little brothers, can be very sneaky in a passive aggressive sort of way for getting our big brothers into trouble. When I was about nine or ten I and my older brother (by seven years) were roughhousing and somehow, I managed to throw him over my shoulder and onto the floor. Our mother scolded him for being too rough! It doesn’t always work. When I about seven I shot my  big sister in the forehead with a rubber dart while she was doing her homework at the dining room table. Apparently, according to my mother, I could have made a better choice – although I don’t think they were quite the words she used.

But the advice is sound. We all need to make better choices.

When our new, current provincial government cuts an income programme for the poor, slashes in half an increase to social assistance, cancels environmental programs and grants and gives us dollar beer - you need to make better choices, Mr. Premier.

When Donald Trump… well, don’t get me started.  You need to make better choices, Mr. President!

But it is easy to point out the speck in my kindred’s eyes without attending to the log in my own eyes. I could write a book on the occasions where I could have and should have made better choices – as a husband, father, pastor, friend, etc.  Hindsight, as they say is always twenty/twenty.  You need to make better choices, Mr. Soble.

Eons ago, God spoke to his beloved people about the choices they were being faced with. “Today I have given you the choice between life and death, between blessings and curses. Now I call on heaven and earth to witness the choice you make. Oh, that you would choose life, so that you and your descendants might live! You can make this choice by loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and committing yourself firmly to him. This is the key to your life.” (Deuteronomy 30: 19-20)

Love for God and others is always a good choice – a still more excellent way, as Paul once described love. Making choices based on God’s example of Love is a good moral compass. It is not always easy. It is not always even fair. It is not always convenient. It may seem costly. It may conflict with dogma and world-views. It may stretch our limits and spill over our boundaries. It may challenge us to make better choices as to what we make of our lives and relationships. But Love is always the better choice: “Love one another as I have loved you,” Jesus said. This, more than anything I can think of, is the authentic Gospel of hope and redemption for humankind.

In its light, we need to make better choices. 

Dale

Wednesday, August 8, 2018

“Jesus said, ‘How can I describe the Kingdom of God? What story should I use to illustrate it? It is like a mustard seed planted in the ground. It is the smallest of all seeds, but it becomes the largest of all garden plants; it grows long branches, and birds can make nests in its shade.’” (Mark 4: 30 – 32, New Living Translation) 

                Quite possibly, I am the laziest bird-watcher in the world.

                I prefer that the birds come to me as opposed to me going to search for them. I do not want to traipse through mosquito infested woods and glades; nor tramp through swamps and fens; nor wait in dawn’s morning light waiting for some rare species to briefly flit by.

                I want to sit in my big Muskoka chair, with my binoculars close at hand, my bird book on the arm of the chair and a cup of coffee nearby and wait for the birds to fly right by me or better yet land in the trees, in the water or on the shore. The more the merrier.

                That strategy worked almost to perfection during our stay on Lake Erie near Leamington. I simply sat on our big deck and ended up with 20 different bird species – a few which I haven’t seen before in Ontario. There were two Great White Egrets and a flock of Snow Geese, for example. There were Common Terns and Little Gulls. Both put on quite the show when they got into a feeding frenzy, screaming and fighting over a school of small fish. There was a momma Mallard with her brood of nine ducklings. There was a handsome Common Merganser and a Bald Eagle and a family of Cedar Waxwings and the list goes on.

                A few years ago, I was asked why there were so many Christian denominations and not just one big, unified family of faith, working together. In some ways, even if some of us may be reluctant to admit it, we already are unified by our faith in Jesus Christ. But beyond that he certainly has a point – we are very diverse in theology, worship practices, points of view, how we see the world, how we view humankind, our interest in social issues, faith standards, and acceptance of lifestyles. Christianity is certainly a patch-work quilt, and sadly, a little tattered and torn in some places.

                Part of my answer was that variety gives everyone somewhere to perch in their faith journey. I love bright red cardinals but I wouldn’t want nothing but cardinals in the bird world. I love lilacs but I wouldn’t want only lilacs in the plant world. I love Australian Shepherds but that’s not the only dog I want. You get the picture.

                I give God praise for his creative, generous and abundant spirit of diversity, “God said, ‘Let the land produce all kinds of living creatures. Let there be livestock, and creatures that move along the ground, and wild animals. Let there be all kinds of them.’ And that's exactly what happened… And God saw that it was good.’’ (Genesis 1:24, 25, NIV)

                Take special note that this cornucopia of variety of life was good – very good.

                Jesus comes along and asserts that the Kingdom continues to hold this diversity and variety as a characteristic of its nature. The Kingdom, God’s great Vision for the future, which at first seems small, (and certainly there are those Christians who attempt to keep it small and select and uniform) actually expands to a point that it gathers all the different birds in its branches.

Of course, he is not talking about birds but about the diverse peoples who will be gathered into God’s Love, Justice and Grace, i.e. the Kingdom of God. White people. Black people. Brown people. Indigenous people. Male. Female.  Etc. Etc. Etc. Et Alia.

                It has always been and remains to be so that God hopes to bless the peoples and nations of the world. “The nations will praise you for ever and ever.” (Psalm 45:17) Jesus is instrumental to that task. “And all the nations will bring their glory and honor into the City.” (Revelation 21:26, NLT)

                I don’t read uniformity and conformity in these texts so much as I try to interpret them as God’s Vision of harmony, peace, good will, mutual accord and respect – a new world of reverence, concord, unity which lifts the world of humankind above its prejudices, biases, limitations and boundaries.

                I only pray that we, the diverse peoples of the world, would start working on that Vision here and now. No time like the present.

                There is a tree with our many, many names on it, big enough to gather us all together, until “The leaves of the tree bring healing to the nations.” (Revelation 22:2) 

Dale

Wednesday, August 1, 2018 

“There is more than enough room in my Father’s home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?” (John 14:2, New Living Translation) 

                If and when I get to “paradise” I hope and pray that it will be much like the beautiful lake house that we just enjoyed for three weeks on the shores of Lake Erie, just outside Leamington, Ontario. If I am going to spend eternity, somewhere, I want a big spacious house with all the amenities you need or want, generous hospitality such as our renter gave us, a large deck that you could have held square dances on it, a lake view that went on for ever into the horizon, a monstrous Muskoka chair to while away the time in, a good book or two,  birds to watch, sailboats, favourite beverage in one hand and a cigar in the other – now that is what I call heaven.

                If God needs a bass for the choir or I am due for my harp lessons, then I will pull myself away. I will do my fair share of guardian angel duty. I just hope the neighbours don’t throw any wild, late night parties. But you know how those angels are, once they hear of one soul being saved – they become quite the party animals.

                We can all become quite imaginative about the mystery of life-after-death. Reunion with loved ones. Enjoyment of favourite past times.  Rediscovering our favourite pets.  The creative genius behind the letter of Revelation casts his vision of the final Kingdom being festooned with precious gems (Revelation 21:19). Sounds nice enough, but I will take my lake house, thank you just the same.

                Whatever the New Reality may be, it promises New Life in ways which we can’t begin to imagine. But it remains an utterly sacred mystery.

Eternity, if measured only by time, might seem like a long, boring, monotonous existence to some. But I expect eternity to be more of a qualitative existence.  It will be a New Life shaped by God’s Love, but I am anticipating there may be new opportunities, new challenges, new possibilities, fresh discoveries that fill those “days” of eternity with joy, peace, love, awareness, growth, health, and new initiatives.  Perhaps, in God’s own mysterious ways, time stands still and every moment, in and of itself, is a precious, fulfilling, challenging, generous experience of God’s Love.

                I like the way that the New Living Translation has rendered the verse from John’s Gospel. Many of you are more familiar with the words, “In my Father’s mansion are many rooms…” But the NLT translation expresses, appropriately, the largesse  of God’s Love in welcoming his sons of Adam and daughters of Eve back into his gracious fellowship.

                Our Leamington lake house was big enough that we were able to host all our adult children and grandchildren at one time or another during our three weeks. This family reunion just added to our enjoyment and pleasure of our stay. We all pitched in, got meals together, and thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company in this beautiful spot. We all had enough room.

                “There is more than enough room,” Jesus said. Jesus sees through all that separates us from God, our loving, heavenly Father.  “Instead God is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.”  (2 Peter 3:9, NIV) There is plenty of room within the embrace of God. I am not a big fan of those small-minded Christians who arrogantly think that they know who gets into heaven and who gets the door slammed in their face. (All I can say is that I hope those sorts of folk are on the far other shore of the celestial lake I’m on!) Only God knows that for sure and, for now, God is wanting us all back in his family and fold, giving everyone an opportunity to enjoy his Grace.

                And if you get to heaven before I do, please save me a seat on the deck. 

Dale