Wednesday, April 26, 2017

                My back yard is dead! Kaput! ALL the grass has gone to that Big Grassy Field in the Sky! There is nothing to mow – zilch! My back yard needs a radical makeover. Last year’s drought did it in. We were away throughout and it wasn’t ever watered. It died under the heat and arid conditions. It was only a two-year-old lawn and it hadn’t really established its roots deep enough. So, left unattended during an extreme dry spell my lawn died and it is now its own ugly version of a brownfield.

                Except for the weeds, of course. Drought – what drought? The weeds, especially Scottish thistle, obviously stole what little moisture there was and used it for their own survival. And this spring they’re back with a vengeance. Green, lush, hale and hearty! They own the lawn! I am sure they are mocking me.

                There are so many possible metaphors and images in this plight that I don’t know where to begin!

                For example, there are the weeds. Right off the bat I am thinking of Jesus’ parable of the sower who, rather willy-nilly if you ask me, scattered seed all over the place.  “And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and it sprang up quickly, since it had no depth of soil. And when the sun rose, it was scorched; and since it had no root, it withered away. Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain.” (Mark 4: 4-7)

Jesus gets weeds! They take away nourishment and vitality.  They don’t care about anything else than their own survival. If left unattended they smother and choke out the life of good things around them.  Nobody ever intentionally plants weeds but they crop up uninvited and will take over. Sometimes they even look pretty, but those attractive blossoms produce seeds at an alarming rate and spread like crazy. Weeds are strong and persistent - growing in cracks and crevices, out from under rocks and breaking through cement and concrete. Just when you light think you might have gotten rid of them, new ones will sprout.

It doesn’t take a whole lot of imagination to understand the imagery here. Weeds are symbolic of those insidious actions, words, thoughts, bad deeds, bad habits, etc. (i.e. sins) that crop up in our vulnerable human lives and kill the soul and spirit. These weeds in our character, in our psyche, in our spirit, in our day-to-day living also strive to thrive, especially during arid and barren times. We may put up a fight for a while, but many folk let the weeds take over, because they don’t know what else to do.

                The sowing of weeds is, in part, the work of the Enemy, who seeks to wreak havoc and prevent us from producing positive, healthy, thriving lives. Jesus tells the parable of an enemy “who came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. So, when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared also,” (Matthew 13:25-26).  The advice within the parable is that the servants should leave the weeds alone rather than weed them out “for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them.”  

                Jesus is making the point that he is doing everything he can to sow good seed in the world: seeds of love, compassion, forgiveness, hope, joy, peace, mercy, healing, freedom, but the damnable weeds keep trying to choke it all out. Christians, our churches, our faith practices are not immune from weeds. Sometimes, the good we do as Christians is obliterated by the weeds of our hypocrisy, our judgmentalism, our intolerance, our arrogance, our dogmatism or our refusal to change as the winds of the Spirit blow us into the world to make a difference.  “He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness,” (2 Corinthians 9:10).

                I am going to have to rotor-till the back lawn to get back to the raw earth and plow those weeds under and start all over.  I haven’t decided whether to reseed or re-sod. Either will be labour intensive and costly. I am not looking forward to doing it. But it’s the only way to resurrect my lawn.

                What do you need to do to get rid of the weeds in your life?

Dale

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

                “The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective,” (James 5:16).

                Over the last number of years, it has been a personal joy to speak occasionally at the Men’s Morning Prayer Group at Park St. Baptist Church. The group is not as large as when I made my first visit over ten years ago, but they still have a wonderful spirit as they gather for fellowship, prayer and a message. They have been meeting weekly like this for many, many years.

                There is a lengthy list of people for whom they pray written on a large blackboard. Most of those names are from their own church family, but they are more than willing to add to that list when suggestions are made. Each name has a current story – illness, disease, infirmity, single parents, people looking for jobs, caregivers, etc.

                What I find the most compelling is listening to these lay men, mostly seniors, pray. Their spoken words are sincere, often eloquent yet simple, and certainly poignant as a few of them take turns to speak from their hearts to God concerning the people whose names have been mentioned. There is no showing-off, no long-windedness, no preachiness, no pious or pompous babble.  There is a genuine humility. There is a wonderful trust and faith.  These men are examples of the verse from James.

                Luke’s Gospel tells us that Jesus taught his disciples about “the need to pray always and not to lose heart,” (Luke 18:1). Indeed, Jesus prayed often, through thick and thin. Note his prayer in Gethsemane. Once, he prayed the whole night through. He often chose a secluded and quiet place to pray privately.

                It may surprise you that there are Christian folk who say they don’t know how to pray. Even the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray and Jesus taught them what we know as the Lord’s Prayer. But I guess some people may think that one has to use special words or the “right” words, or religious words, or that praying is for the true, eloquent pillars of the church, whereas they stumble for words and become overly and awkwardly self-conscious, especially to pray out loud in front of others.

                Prayer is basically conversation. It is how we converse with God about what is going on in our lives. Prayer is a spiritual dialogue. There are no magical, mystical words. There are simply your own words, spoken in your own way, using words that have meaning for you. It doesn’t get much more complicated than that, really. Maybe that is why Jesus suggested that we should “go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father,” (Matthew 6:6); so that we aren’t worried about how others might critique our prayer style.

                Anybody can pray. There are no special qualifications, special rituals, or  religious formalities. Sometimes we pray with fervour; sometimes we pray out of a hesitant but hopeful faith. We pray when the world is beautiful and full of grace; we pray when the road is bumpy and dangerous. We pray when life is a banquet; we pray when we are trapped in arid, barren wildernesses. We pray when there is a bounce in our step; we pray when we are limping along. We pray when life is sweet; we pray when bitterness and hurt have their way. Sometimes the words flow like cascading water. Sometimes we pray even when words might fail us. We pray continually. If anything, God is a superb, caring listener.

 “And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests,” (Ephesians 6:18).

Dale

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

AFTER

After the wine is finished and the bread reduced to crumbs,

There is The Morning.

After garden prayers are invoked and betrayals done

There is The Morning.

After the denials are made and the rooster crows,

There is The Morning.

After lies are spoken and verdicts rendered

There is The Morning.

After the mockery and taunting and the thorns of contempt

There is The Morning.

After the burden of a heavy cross and the via Delarosa

There is The Morning.

After the thud of nails and the instant pain of dying

There is The Morning.

After all bets are off and the scorching heat

There is The Morning.

After a rebel’s curse and a God-forsaken scream

There is The Morning.

After last words are spoken and one last breath

There is The Morning.

After burial shrouds and cold, lonely, dank tombs

There is The Morning.

After when it should all have been over and done with,

After the worldly powers were appeased,

After the glory winked out,

After the crowds scattered and the followers fled,

So many “afters”.

After… After… After…

But then comes The Morning.

Alleluia! There is The Morning! The best of all mornings since Creation itself. Alleluia!

And after THAT, comes the brightness of a New Day.

Dale

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

                I expect that today the authorities would demand that Jesus get a parade permit before they would allow him to enter the city.

                This coming Sunday is Palm Sunday for Christianity – the celebration or remembrance of Jesus’ ride on a donkey into the city of Jerusalem.  Only the Gospel of John mentions palm branches, while the other three gospels refer to people’s cloaks which they threw in the path of Jesus or leafy branches. A number of bible translations have titled this section as “Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem.” It is almost as if we are still making the same error in judgment about Jesus as did his disciples. They thought this parade was the beginning of a major rebellion, a powerful revolution, a military coup, the calling of an army to usher in a new age for Israel and the overthrow the Roman empire and its heavy-handed oppression of the people.

                Close but no cigar!

                The shouts of the people inferred that they too wished that Jesus was some new saviour who had come as their liberator, a new King David. Matthew tells us that, “When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’” (Matthew 21:10) It only served to annoy the Pharisees and eventually the Roman authorities even further, intensifying their desire to rid themselves of the problematic Jesus. The schemes began in earnest, to look “for a way to put Jesus to death, for they were afraid of the people,” (Luke 22:2).      

But before long, the same crowds turned against Jesus and cried out for his execution. He was not the one they were hoping for, longing for, wishing for. Better a dead pretender of a messiah than a false, disappointing one. Triumph turned into humiliation, including a miserable and horrible suffering death on a cross, the worst imaginable way, for a Jew in particular, to die. “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree" (Galatians 3:13).

                It was a short-lived parade. Nope, nothing to see here. Time to move on.

                My experience has been that the problem that many people have with religion in general and Christianity in particular is that the religious sphere never lives up to one’s expectations. At first, spiritual fervour comes on like gangbusters. There may be spiritual fireworks, powerful emotions, intense spiritual experiences, feelings of joy, hope, optimism, and love for the world. One is on fire, ready to take on the world. There is a parade happening and one wants to join in and wave a few palm branches around. “Jesus is Lord and all is right in the world!”

                But then, for some reason, the parade route takes a nasty turn. Life isn’t all sunshine and lollipops. The promised rose garden has a few thorns. Miracles don’t always happen as often as or how you would wish. Faith gets bogged down by reality. The road gets narrow. When the going gets tough it’s time to go home and see what’s on TV and turn our back on or against God for doing such a poor job of keeping us happy, healthy and prosperous. Empty promises. Empty hope.  Dead ends. Lost causes.

                Nope, nothing to see here. Time to move on.

                All the gospels seem to make the point that the road to salvation, to renewal, to resurrection, to experiencing the kingdom life, takes one through our Jerusalems, pain and all. There are no shortcuts. I would love to be able to tell you that your faith will protect you from harm, that it guarantees a life free from heartache, trials and tribulations, but that would be a dangerous, if not monstrous, lie.

But as any of us walk through the valley of the shadow of death in whatever guise it may take Palm Sunday reminds that God is still with us. Jesus rode into certain suffering and death so that he might share everything of the human condition, including the unfairness and injustice that haunts us. In his own peculiar way and for our sake he confronts the powers and the principalities that wish to control our lives and make us captives to their whims and misfortunes.

“When you were stuck in your old sin-dead life, you were incapable of responding to God. God brought you alive - right along with Christ! Think of it! All sins forgiven, the slate wiped clean, that old arrest warrant canceled and nailed to Christ's Cross. He stripped all the spiritual tyrants in the universe of their sham authority at the Cross and marched them naked through the streets. So don't put up with anyone pressuring you in details of diet, worship services, or holy days. All those things are mere shadows cast before what was to come; the substance is Christ. Don't tolerate people who try to run your life, ordering you to bow and scrape, insisting that you join their obsession with angels and that you seek out visions. They're a lot of hot air, that's all they are. They're completely out of touch with the source of life, Christ, who puts us together in one piece, whose very breath and blood flow through us. He is the Head and we are the body. We can grow up healthy in God only as he nourishes us,” (Colossians 2:13 – 19, The Message).

Dale