Wednesday, July 3, 2019

“It will happen in a moment, in the blink of an eye, when the last trumpet is blown. For when the trumpet sounds, those who have died will be raised to live forever. And we who are living will also be transformed.” (1 Corinthians 15:52, New Living Translation)

                Saxophones are never mentioned in the Bible – harps, lutes, flutes, trumpets, tambourines but no saxophones, mainly because, of course, the saxophone wasn’t invented until around 1841 by Adolphe Sax.

                But now there is a worthy musician who has joined the reed sections of whatever heavenly jazz band is playing in whatever celestial club.  

Our good friend, John Oosterbroek, passed away last week, the cherished husband of his wife, Tish. He was a much beloved musician in our city and a member of our church. He played the saxophone, clarinet and flute with wonderful  panache and skilful expertise – jazz, classical, religious, you name it. John played with our worship team. But he conducted orchestras, played in clubs, played for various bands, and was an active member of the music community here in Peterborough.

As good and excellent as all that is, better yet, he was a friend of mine. He had a droll wit, an appreciative spirit, an inquisitive mind and beneath what some interpreted as a gruff manner was a big and caring heart. He always was interested in our family. He was someone with whom I could share my concerns around the church and he kept it in confidence.

What might surprise some people is the high regard he has from his students whom he taught in high school for a few years. Most, if not all, give him credit for their deep love of music and in some cases going on to major in music in university and make careers out of music. One woman who had received her doctorate in music gives John the credit. John had inspired and awoken something in these students and they haven’t forgotten.

I had a taste of that skill a few years back when I tried to revive my saxophone playing which I had first learned in high school. I took weekly lessons. I could have taken daily lessons and it wouldn’t have made a difference. I was really awful. But John was patient, encouraging, helpful and instructive but I must have been torturing him with the cacophonous noise coming from my rented saxophone.

Saxophones are not ‘horns” technically.  Nevertheless, allow me to take a small liberty and include them in the horn section of heaven. A ram’s horn, for instance, was a popular OT instrument for the people of God. A blast of the ram’s horn could mean that God’s Holy Presence was close at hand. “On the morning of the third day, thunder roared and lightning flashed, and a dense cloud came down on the mountain. There was a long, loud blast from a ram’s horn, and all the people trembled.” (Exodus 19:16, NLT)

It always signaled that something special was happening “Sing your praise to the Lord with the harp, with the harp and melodious song, with trumpets and the sound of the ram’s horn. Make a joyful symphony before the Lord, the King!” (Psalm 98: 5 -6) It was the horn for sounding the battle call.  It could rally the people or inspire them or call them to action or even repentance. “Blow the ram’s horn in Jerusalem! Announce a time of fasting; call the people together for a solemn meeting.” (Joel 2:15, NLT)

When John wailed away on his axe (slang for a saxophone) it could evoke in me feelings that made me appreciate how sacred and mysterious music can be. Music has a way of connecting us to the creative side of life. Music can express in ways that words cannot those deep inner feelings of thought and spirit. Music captures our moods and often enables us to get out of our funks and melancholia. Music can express the spiritual natures of our beings.

So perhaps if Gabriel ever gets tired of trumpet practice in preparation for the big Resurrection Day, maybe he can let John have a few notes of his own, even on the saxophone.  He won’t regret it!

Dale

Wednesday, June 26, 2019

“The master said, ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities. Let’s celebrate together!’” (Matthew 25:23, New Living Translation) 

                Ah, retirement! It is wondrous! It is a blessing! It is sweet and delicious. It is… well, you get my point. There was a report this week which claimed that most Canadians over the age of 55 are happy or content with their lives. I suspect that many of those folk are probably retired.

                We attended a celebration event on Sunday in Kingston for the retirement of my brother, Wayne, after nearly 60 years in pastoral ministry, the last fifteen years at Edith Rankin Memorial United Church.  His wife, Jean Stairs, who has been doing team ministry with him over the last several years, was also feted for her retirement at the same time.

                I am not sure Wayne knows what exactly to expect about retirement. He thought that I was crazy retiring so early and I think he was nuts for working so long. But to each his own. He has been a dedicated and exhaustive worker for the Church his whole life. He has wanted to be a minister since he was knee-high to a tadpole. He has remained in church ministry into his 70s and has been very fruitful, successful and productive in all those years. I am immensely proud of him.

                He has not really seriously asked me other than saying to me on Sunday whether this retirement thing is all that it is cracked up to be. My short answer was, yes, it has been wonderful. The time is your own and I have loved every minute of my retirement. I joke that I wish that I had done it 40 years ago. I am not sure that he was totally convinced.

                But it got me to thinking about a longer answer – after all, you take the man out of preaching but not the preaching out of the man.

                To anyone who struggles with retirement, thinking about retirement or is restless in retirement (and trust me, ministers are among the worst in adapting to retirement) here is my unsolicited advice.

                Let retirement come to you naturally. You don’t have to grab it by the horns and tame it. Find its natural flow; breathe the air of its freedom; sense its new rhythms and life’s patterns. Don’t tackle it aggressively, but let it find you and reward you in ways that you haven’t experienced since you were a child, probably. Retirement doesn’t have to be profound or intense to be interesting and meaningful. You don't have to consume your retirement; savor it, instead. You may have time on your hands; that’s not a bad thing – you can use it if you want but it is not mandatory. You can finally drop the Protestant Work Ethic.

                Retirement can become time, space and place for rediscovery of favourite pastimes, hobbies or projects. But don’t go at those things like your hair is on fire. Enjoy the pace of retirement. Like it is written in Ecclesiastes there is a time for everything and now you are in control of those times.

                I have never been a fan of a purpose driven life philosophy for anyone. It sounds too intense, obsessive, compulsive, hardcore single-mindedness.  Driven people may have the most difficult time in retirement. I loved my years in ministry but I have received this amazing gift and permission from God to kick off my shoes and let others pay heed to burning bushes. I get to spend more time with my grandchildren, have time to write, to play silly computer games, build Lego sets, to choose activities that I enjoy. I still do on-call chaplaincy at the hospital and serve on a couple of committees.  I am just busy enough to keep me active.

                Life is good!  I pray that if you are in one of the 55 years and older categories that happiness has found you and contentment is not eluding you. Enjoy!

Dale

Wednesday, June 19, 2019

“Don't you see that children are God's best gift? The fruit of the womb his generous legacy? Like a warrior's fistful of arrows are the children of a vigorous youth.  Oh, how blessed are you parents, with your quivers full of children!" (Psalm 127: 3-4, The Message Bible) 

                Talk about quiversful, our family is growing and then some.

                Let me re-phrase the Psalm slightly. “Oh, how blessed are you grandparents with your quivers full of grandchildren.”

                Along with the previously announced anticipated Fall arrivals of two grandchildren, a third is now expected by early January, a newborn for Krista and Nathaniel, a sibling for Declan. We are the envy of every wanna-be grandparent we meet, and a few who would like more grandchildren.

                Along with the joys of my retirement, we will have the pleasure of 7 grandchildren, all under the age of six. Yeah, I know; I am just rubbing it in.

                Yesterday, I was having a conversation with one of the daughters of my doctor. He had been asked by another patient whether he was spoiling his twin, five-year old grandsons. Of course, he was. The daughter who is also the receptionist sardonically chirped in by saying that she found it hard to believe that this is the same man who raised her as he is  now such a softie when it came to the grandsons. I suspect that my adult children could say much the same thing about me.

                I don’t know what it is about grandchildren but dang it, they can make you weak at the knees.

                I suppose that I could fret about the kind of world these three children are being born into. Sometimes, it looks like a mess – environmentally, politically, culturally, and so on. We all could do a better job of improving this ol’ world so that our children and grandchildren have a better opportunity to enjoy the future. But I expect that sentiment has been expressed for time immemorial by all upcoming generations which doesn’t make it any less true or poignant.

                I also suppose that it would be easy for old codgers like myself to complain that that today’s youth and children have never had it so easy and how entitled and self-absorbed they seem. I could say that; except I don’t really believe it that much. I think that today’s children and youth face issues, circumstances, peer pressure, defining sexual identities, pressures that most of us never even dreamed of when we were young. Each generation is different, of course, and faced or are facing diverse challenges. But I would say that in my youth the main question seemed to be, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Now it seems to be “Who do you want to be when you grow up?” And it seems a a much harder question to answer.

                I’ve said it before but I will say it again; in light of the world which our children are facing, we need to be a compass for them. This doesn’t mean we make their decisions for them all the time or force down their throats our old social, theological, cultural doctrines and creeds. We encourage; we listen; we speak from our experience when they ask; we seek accountability without threats and intimidation. We accept our responsibilities as adults to model, guide, teach, lead, inspire, bless, forgive and love our children at all costs. A compass – we point out a possible direction; eventually we let them go.

                I will confess that this is somewhat easier for a grandparent.  We don’t spend 24/7 with our grandchildren. We’d probably go nuts if we did or at least be so exhausted that we wouldn’t care that they’ve dressed up the cat and are holding it hostage in a doll carriage. So, instead,  we encourage their parents; give ‘em a break every  now and then; listen a lot and then advise but only if and when asked; let them make mistakes and then empathize; help them find the humour in some of situations and let them know that they are still unconditionally loved (even as we wilfully remind them that what goes around comes around).

                “Now that I am old and gray, do not abandon me, O God. Let me proclaim your power to this new generation, your mighty miracles to all who come after me.” (Psalm 71:18, New Living Translation)

Dale

Wednesday, June 12, 2019

“When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things.” (1 Corinthians 13:11, New Living Translation) 

                The older I get I am finding that my tastes are changing, both literally and figuratively.

                For instance, I used to enjoy sweet things like licorice all-sorts and milk chocolate and sweet desserts, but now these are far too sweet and I go for dark chocolate and like its slightly more bitter taste. I prefer dark, strong coffee.  I used to love spaghetti but tomato sauces are now unappealing and a turn-off. I like sour tastes like lemonade. I’d rather have fresh fruit than candy or cake.

                My taste in music is far different than when I was in my teens.  I never listen to pop music today and wouldn’t know a top ten artist or a song if my life depended on it. I grew up with the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, the great music of the 60’s. Now I prefer Sinatra, Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday and various Blues and Jazz artists, even though some of them were more my parent’s generation than mine. Oh, I still can’t stand most opera, so some things haven’t changed although Gilbert and Sullivan has always appealed somewhat. 

                Perhaps as I eventually drift into my second childhood, my tastes will shift even further.

                I have never been a big fan of nostalgia. I seldom ever lament the so-called “good ol’ days”. The past is the past as far as I am concerned and try to leave it there the best that I can. I don’t always like change but neither do I fight it or overtly resist it. I have always thought that change can be healthy, renewing, invigorating and an opportunity for something new to arise. Susan has accused me that I would deliberately instigate change in any of my churches if and whenever church-life became routine, predictable or safe. She may not be wrong.

                I know that Jesus once said that we should become like children in order to engage in the kingdom of God life. But I don’t think this was suggesting that we should be immature, childish, or stuck in a Sunday School-like faith only. It may be appealing to keep our walk of faith as simple as we can, to maintain a black-and-white creed, and desire that “old time religion”. After all, if it was good enough for Peter…

But a mature life needs a mature faith also, especially to meet the complex and complicated issues and challenges that make up our lives, our culture and politics in our world.

I wonder how Paul would have understood Jesus’ comment. Paul was one to commend a mature faith, steeped deeply in the principles of faith and practice.  He chastises the “saints” in Corinth, “But for right now, friends, I'm completely frustrated by your unspiritual dealings with each other and with God. You're acting like infants in relation to Christ, capable of nothing much more than nursing at the breast. Well, then, I'll nurse you since you don't seem capable of anything more,” (1 Corinthians 3: 1 -2, The Message Bible

The writer of Hebrews is also frustrated with the lack of Christian maturity among his readers. “By this time, you ought to be teachers yourselves, yet here I find you need someone to sit down with you and go over the basics on God again, starting from square one - baby's milk, when you should have been on solid food long ago! Milk is for beginners, inexperienced in God's ways; solid food is for the mature, who have some practice in telling right from wrong.” (Hebrews 5: 12 -15, The Message)

Our faith needs to grow, evolve, progress, ripen, and become richer and deeper as we grow older. Some of our ideas about God, Jesus or matters of faith may change or need to be altered as our understanding, appreciation and knowledge increases. That is the only way to have a tough enough, strong enough, lasting faith that leads us through all the days of being.

Dale

Wednesday, June 5, 2019

“I compare you, my love, to as mare among Pharaoh’s chariots…” (Songs of Solomon 1:9, New Revised Standard version)

                I am pretty sure that most woman, i.e. wives or girlfriends, wouldn’t appreciate being compared to a horse, no matter how complimentary it was meant.  But when you read the Songs of Solomon, this compliment, at least, doesn’t make you blush and feel that you are reading someone’s private, romantic mail between two lovers. “Your rounded thighs are like jewels, the work of a master hand. Your navel is a rounded bowl, that never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat encircle with lilies. Your breasts are like two fans, twins of a gazelle…” (7: 1 3). Too much information here!

And what’s with all the animal analogies, “Your eyes are like doves…your hair is like a flock of goats moving down the slops of Gilead. Your teeth are like flock of shorn ewes that have comes up from the washing…” (4:1 – 2).

This man really knows how to turn a woman’s head!

But it leads me to some commentary which we watched on PBS recently – knowing how to take a compliment. And it has got me to thinking…

Many of us are not very good at it – taking a compliment. We deflect, brush off, ignore, trivialize, and make light of the good, complimentary things that may come our way.  Sometimes, it’s humility that stands in the way of the compliment. Sometimes, it because we don’t feel that we deserve it or have earned it or some have a very low self-image.  Some of us grew up believing that our good works were simply expected and one should never expect praise or commendation. It certainly was taboo to boast and toot your own horn. Actions called for modesty and self-deflection.

Worse is that we remember the uncomplimentary things people say about us far better than the complimentary things. One little criticism can overshadow a dozen nice things which were said and then eat away at us for some time. I was a master at that, worrying away at some small, unkind remark even while many others were patting me on the back. I even knew what I was doing to myself but found it hard not to dwell on the negativity, despite the praise.

The woman on PBS suggested that we keep a diary of the complimentary things that people say to us or about us. At first, that may sound a little egotistical, but I would agree that it may help remind us, especially in the rough times, that we are more capable and worthy and well-intentioned than we give ourselves credit for. Therefore, it encourages us to repeat our victories, no matter how small, and this helps build character and mindfulness and patterns of goodness (righteousness). Accepting a compliment, when deserved, lightens the soul, engages the heart, and uplifts the spirit.

It is not un-Christian to take a compliment. I might rather argue that it is more un-Christian to be judgmental, critical and hurtful toward others. It is more un-Christian not to pass compliments on to people around us, not flattery or fake praise, but a sincere acknowledgment when someone has done their best. Let them know it!

The apostle Paul could be a bit of a grumpy old cuss, at times, but he was always lavish with praise and gratefulness for his fellow-workers or the people in his churches.  They weren’t perfect but he encouraged them with his appreciation for their faith and labours. E.g. “We always give thanks to God for all of you and mention you in our prayers, constantly remembering before our God and Father your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ,” (1 Thessalonians 1: 2 -3, NRSV)

So, when someone says somethings good to you or about you, receive it with joy and thanksgiving.  Then, pass it on to someone else. Seek the good and it will come back to you!

Let your words and deeds be like a sack full of squealing, little piglets…  oh, you know what I mean!

Dale

Wednesday, May 29, 2019

“Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth.” (Psalm 100:1, New Revised Standard) 

                Keep it down out there, would ya! 

                Last week, my son-in-law, Gary, treated me to a baseball game in Toronto, an afternoon game. He parked in his favourite parking garage, a five-minute walk or so to the stadium. As we hit the street, I was almost physically overwhelmed by the cacophonous noise of the “big city”. The sounds of construction, constant traffic, machinery and so many people flooded my auditory senses with a tangible overload. It was such a sharp and discordant contrast to my quiet, little, reclusive life here in Peterborough. I can sit outside and the biggest “noise” might be the mourning doves cooing or a cardinal whistling or a car occasionally going by or the odd lawnmower now and then.  The little dog who lives behind us and yaps all the time – well, don’t bet me started on it. But, really, not much to complain about. 

                I have inherited my mother’s aversion to noise, especially big or constant noise. Sudden crashes send me up the wall and put my nerves on edge. Noisy rooms give me a sense of claustrophobia and anxiety.  I have always lived in a quiet environment, even growing up. 

                When Susan and I started dating, it was quite an experience to sit around the dining room table with her four younger siblings and parents. The noise of all sorts of happy, exited conversations taking place, seemingly all at once, was daunting for me, at first. Mind you, now with our own four children  and grandchildren we are just as noisy and rambunctious, maybe more so. I love it but it still sometimes overwhelms me. 

                Somewhere, somewhen, Christian worship became a sedate, orderly routine – conducted with calm dignity, composure, serenity and respectful ways. Everything had its liturgical place and deviations were few and far between. Heaven forbid, if anything intruded on that staid and sober order of worship. 

                Over the last 30 years or so, the introduction of drums, guitars, saxophones and so-called “contemporary” music has set worship experiences on its ear. Not everyone has adjusted. I remember one man insisting that the use of guitars and drums was the work of the devil. I have had people in my congregations wanting to ban applause during worship services. People have threatened to leave the church if we have “that kind of music.”    

            

                But the fact is that this isn’t contemporary at all. Scripture calls for exuberance, liveliness, passion, excitement in forms of worship and praise. “Sing! Beat the tambourine. Play the sweet lyre and the harp” (Psalm 81:2, New Living Translation).  Worship was about sound, movement, flow, rhythms, dancing, moving with the beat.  “I walked among the crowds of worshipers, leading a great procession to the house of God, singing for joy and giving thanks amid the sound of a great celebration!” (Psalm 42:4)                

                There are times for silences and quiet reflection, but hardy or robust worship comes with a lot of noise, the sounds of trumpets and rams’ horns. “Come, everyone! Clap your hands! Shout to God with joyful praise!” (Psalm 47:1, NLT) 

                Our faith is something that should be bursting for holistic expression. Our delight in our God who loves us should be given full-bodied voice. “With my whole being, body and soul, I will shout joyfully to the living God.” (Psalm 84: 2, NLT) 

                Some one may tell you to pipe down during worship, they’re trying to catch up on their rest or sleep, but others want to “shout to the Lord, all the earth; break out in praise and sing for joy!” (Psalm 98:4, NLT) 

                Go for it!

Dale

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

“Taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him!” (Psalm 34: 8, New Living Translation) 

                Instead of a security blanket, our fourteen-month old grandson, Declan, has invested his trust in a wooden spoon which he carries about wherever he goes. I suppose that I could make a crack about not trusting in wooden idols, but actually I like his moxie!

                I see a lot of symbolism in his choice. For example, perhaps he will become a great chef someday or maybe a food critic or own a restaurant. But that only scratches the surface.

                Even more so, I think it could mean that he is ready to feast on all the world has to offer, all its beauty, joys, celebrations, festivities and bounty that surrounds him. He is anticipating and prepared for the banquet that can be life itself. He is hungry for Creation’s goodness, satisfaction, enjoyments and delights.  His old grandpa hopes he will never become a ravenous, greedy, gluttonous consumer but rather he will be always someone who can feast with thanksgiving, appreciation and humility on the abundance that God may give to any of us.

                “Give us our daily bread.” Declan has come prepared!

                It reminds me of that soup-for-the soul sort of story about the terminally-ill woman who told her pastor that along with her bible she also wanted to be buried with a fork in her hand. The woman’s explanation was as follows: “Because over the years, I attended many a potluck at this parish. And every time the people came to take my dinner plate, they would tell me to keep my fork for the dessert. Them telling me to keep my fork was always my favorite part of the dinner, because it always meant that something better was coming. I know that I don’t have long, but I know in my heart that something better is coming…”

                I don’t think we just have to wait until the joys of heaven feed our beings. I also think that there is a here-and-now quality to the nourishing blessings which may come our way. At its best, life can be savoury, a feast for our senses, a sacred joy, a gift, especially when we give ourselves away and not become stingy, selfish, materialistic consumers. “Give, and you will receive. Your gift will return to you in full—pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, running over, and poured into your lap. The amount you give will determine the amount you get back.” (Luke 6:38, NLT)

                For sure, life sometimes leaves a bitter taste and seems less than fulfilling. There is real hunger and poverty in our country and the world where having enough daily bread is a challenge for families. For some, their lives seem more empty than not. Others are never satisfied, no matter what. Some measure fulfillment by the money, power, privilege and success they can accrue. There is that old saying, each according to their own individual tastes.

                The Bible suggests a different way. The first book of the Bible, Genesis, speaks with bold imagery as to the beauty and bounty of Creation for humankind: “Then God blessed them and said, ‘Be fruitful and multiply. Fill the earth and govern it. Reign over the fish in the sea, the birds in the sky, and all the animals that scurry along the ground.’ Then God said, ‘Look! I have given you every seed-bearing plant throughout the earth and all the fruit trees for your food...’  And that is what happened. Then God looked over all he had made, and he saw that it was very good!”  (Genesis 1:28 – 29, 30 -31, NLT)

                And if all that goodness at hand  doesn’t make you want to pick up a spoon or fork, at least every now and then, to taste and see that the Lord is good and so is life, in order to discover the combined bounty of love, joy, happiness, satisfaction, and nurture, then  get yourself immediately into line for God’s “food-bank”, a cornucopia of his Love, Grace, Mercy and Justice.  God has no appetite for you to go hungry - spiritually, physically or relationally.

                But you’ve got to pick up your spoon!

Dale