Wednesday, July 8, 2020


Wednesday, July 8, 2020
“You can’t keep your true self hidden forever; before long you’ll be exposed. You can’t hide behind a religious mask forever; sooner or later the mask will slip and your true face will be known. You can’t whisper one thing in private and preach the opposite in public; the day’s coming when those whispers will be repeated all over town.” (Luke 12: 2-3)

(I am going to take a three week break. We will get together again on Wednesday, August 5.)

                I don’t feel like the Lone Ranger because my mask has slipped way down my face and sometimes it feels like I am about to rob a bank, but I have begun to wear a medical cloth mask whenever I am out in public. (Some might say it is an improvement and should have happened long ago.)  As Susan and I reconnect slowly with family, I think it is wiser and safer for them and us to take simple, common sense precautions.

                Some people are protesting the mandatory use of masks which I quite frankly don’t get. I will admit that my mask can be slightly uncomfortable in this heat wave we are having, fogging up my glasses in stores and poking at my claustrophobia ever so slightly but it still is no big deal. It is nothing permanent. Mind you, just this morning, I read an article on how to put on, wear and clean our masks, what to do and what not do to do. Now, that was daunting!  But I am still going to wear my mask until this pandemic is over once and for all.

                This may be the only time in our lives when wearing masks is a good thing. But Jesus wasn’t talking about physical masks, of course. He was talking about our outward masks of elitism and thinking we are better than anyone else. He seems especially mindful of the hypocrisy of religious people who say all the right things about faith, love, compassion, grace and justice but don’t practice what they preach. Their superficial piety cloaks a judgemental, critical, discriminatory attitude of superiority and self-righteousness.

                There are other kinds of masks we wear. We hide our pain and hurt and grief. We hide our mental health issues. We hide our worry and anxiety. We put on a happy face and hope others won’t notice we are hurting inside. We don’t want others to know we are feeling weak, afraid, broken or just plain worn out. We pretend that everything is okay when it isn’t. Sometimes, some might feel guilty about their hidden feelings, because they think that a Christian shouldn’t ever feel this way and therefore their faith is now weak, to top it all off.

                But sooner or later the mask drops and we have to deal with what is inside. God’s Love is healing but God’s Love also can expose what is eating away at us before it can begin the healing process. It can  be risky to let our masks fall off our souls just as it is risky not using a mask during these Covid19 times. Some might judge us, ridicule us, disrespect us, think less of us, but compared to the pain we are hiding, those brief and temporary realties are small things which we shouldn’t sweat. Those sorts of people have got their own stuffy mask to contend with.

You or I need to breathe in some fresh air for the heart, soul and spirit. We need the Spirit of God to restore our soul. It can be daunting to let God really see us for ourselves. But if we say that God loves us unconditionally, why don’t we live and act like that it is really true? God sees under these masks anyway; we are not fooling God.

                Let the Sonshine in!

Dale

Wednesday, July 1, 2020


Wednesday, July 1, 2020
“Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, free of care in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.” (Matthew 6:26, The Message Bible, with a minor alteration of my own.)

                Happy Canada Day everyone! Stay True North, strong and free!

                I sat there, outside, on a beautiful, warm summer Sunday,
                                thinking and praying about the world we live in.
                The robins’ sweet, joyful warble interrupts my worries and concerns.
                I stop yammering at and hectoring God.
                I listen to her song,
breaking through the rustle of the breeze in the trees
                                and I marvel at her unbridled enthusiasm for the day.
                Why, I ask myself, is she so happy and  ecstatic about her life?
                                She eats worms, for heaven’s sake!
                But she sings for all her worth, uninterested in my questions or opinions,
                                careless of my mood and my thoughts.
                She does not even know I am eavesdropping on her serenade.
                                Nor does she care one whit.
                She is not singing for me anyway.
                                How typically presumptuous of humankind to think everything is about us.
                                Even birdsong.
                She is whistling a happy tune because all is right with her world at the moment.
                                Life is good.
                                She has food and water.
                                The sun is warm.
                                There is a comfortable breeze.
                She has no words but simply expresses herself in song.
                For it is we, humans, who need long-winded reasons and explanations
 to sing and play and worship.
This small red-breasted maestro simply sings
 because that is what she was created to do by the Creator.
She is very good at it!    
                She has no need to be an ego-centred existentialist         
                        who needs to dissect, analyze, parse, explain, examine
and demand rational answers to figure out this world.
                This robin is of the world and about in the world.
                It is enough!
Today, it fills her with a joyful, singing embrace of what she is experiencing.
                She has found her place and it is good.
It overflows with sacred blessing and the Creator’s charm.
She puts her day into trills and melody.
The robin sings because this is uniquely her song,
her Psalm for a Sunday morning,
rising up above the world so sweet.

Dale