Inuksuk

The inuksuk (also spelled inukshuk and plural inuksuit) is one of the symbols of the Vancouver 2010 Olympic and Paralympic Winter Games. In the Canadian north inuksuit have been used for many purposes. They are used to show directions to travellers, to warn of impending danger, to mark a place of respect, to mark a cache of food, or to look like a person and help in the hunting of caribou. They are a quiet message given to those on a journey.

We are all on a spiritual journey; and like the Inuit of the north, this journey is through a harsh land. We need an inuksuk along the way to guide us in this spiritually barren place.

The billboard message of our culture today is shouted to us from every store, every television commercial, and every news story. The predominent message says, "There is no God; there is no meaning to this world; the best that you can do is simply enjoy life." But might there be another message spoken softly in the inuksuit of life? If we listen carefully we might hear God's quiet whispers from the sign-posts along the road, "I Am; I am not silent. The universe is not meaningless. I have a plan for you."

Postcard from a Friend

My friend and pastor Rick Scruggs wrote a great blog post a few weeks ago. I thought I would share it with you here.

Not all learning comes from books. I’ve been learning some things from my granddaughters. As a parent I soon came to realize that God teaches up plenty from our kids and as a husband it didn’t take me too long to realize that God had plenty to teach me through my wife and the journey of marriage. But grandkids have caught me a bit off guard. I guess I presumed that because we had raised our own children and arrived at the point where they had left the nest and were soaring well on their own that our days of learning much from children was over. But then came Kaiya and more recently Rylee and a whole new era of learning has commenced!

The learning I’m referring to isn’t about new toys or the most recent kid’s TV programs or how to employ an improved diapering system. It isn’t even about mastering the technology of “skype” so we can see them while we talk with them. No…the real learning, the important learning is about how they affect our hearts.

During these “sabbatical days” I’ve had more time to spend with them which means of course that I have gotten more attached to them. In the days leading up to their move to Vancouver they lived with us for a week and as a result saying “goodbye” became that much harder. The house is now so much quieter…the toys are never underfoot and the tupperware cupboard stays neat and organized behind the door instead of all over the floor…I can actually get things done without interruption…when I leave to go somewhere no one cries because they can’t come with me and I can actually read the paper instead of The Barnyard Dance when I sit down. But…there are no squeals of joy…no cries of “Bampa”…no lifted arms…no one crawling into bed with us in the morning or peeking out from around the corner while playing a game of “boo”.

So as I sit in my quiet and well ordered room and write this blog I’m reminded of a few things that this “refresher course” is teaching me. I’m reminded of how important children were to Jesus and of his warning that unless we become like these little ones…these vulnerable, dependant, exuberant kids…we cannot get into his Father’s Kingdom. How is that when we are so smart, so savvy, so well experienced, so cosmopolitan? I’m reminded of how they love to be held and cuddled and played with and how much we grandparents love those moments and I think about how much God longs to take our hand during a walk, have us sit on his lap while he reads us some story that is far below his IQ level. That closeness that develops between grandparent and grandchild is a reflection of the closeness that God desires with us! And the joy at watching them learn to walk and talk and master all kinds of new skills…I’m sure that God has those same moments of joy as he watches you and I make progress in our efforts to become just like him.

More painful insights came when Kelly and Sarrah moved to Vancouver a couple weeks ago. And while they moved for good reasons, to work with a new church plant there, the geographical distance reminds me of another painful reality. What must it be like for God when his kids move away from him? How does he feel when the ones he has loved, the ones who have professed their love and commitment to him choose to put distance between themselves and him? Perhaps we would like to believe that God is somehow devoid of such trivial emotions but if he indeed created us in his own image I think he must feel some of the pain that such separation inevitably brings…a similar sadness and longing to that which we have felt these last few days since our granddaughters moved away.

These “grandkid lessons” have also taught me more about empathy. I resonate with those grandparents who have experienced these exact same feelings. I hurt more deeply for parents who have lost custody of their children or even more dramatically those who have lost a child or children to death in some manner. Compared to these “tearings” my lessons have been slight and temporary but non-the-less my empathy has been sharpened.

So we look forward to a few more trips to Vancouver and becoming much more proficient at skyping and God willing, perhaps even a few more grandchildren in the years ahead! And I’ll try to remember that God is always willing to teach me new lessons, even in the midst of disappointment and painful separations.

If I Were You

(Wayne Watson, © 1995 Material Music/Word ASCAP)

If I were You . . . if I ran this place
There wouldn’t be no mercy
There wouldn’t be no grace
And people that wander off and go astray
I’d make real sure that they would pay
Yeh, that’s what I’d do
If I were You

And if I were You . . . if I ran this town
The righteous would be sitting pretty
And the rotten would come tumbling down
They’d beg and they’d wrangle for a second chance
I’d say, "Sorry boys, but I just can’t"
Yeh, that’s what I’d do
If I were you

But You know me, I’m just a man
Of unclean lips and unclean hands
Some of the thoughts I have
Make me want to run and hide
I don’t know much but I’ve observed
You’ve never treated me like I deserved
Your loving arms are always open wide

If I were You . . . a catastrophe
What in the world kind of world would this world be
I guess I’ll take my place
Wrapped in amazing grace
Let You be You
That’s what I’ll do

Seals and A Serious Man

I went to see the Coen brothers' latest movie last Saturday night. It is called A Serious Man and is a dark comedy about how we understand our existence and the meaning of life. As the directors are Jewish they have drawn heavily from their understanding of Jewish faith, customs, and the nominal Jewish culture of the 1960s. It has a message like many Hollywood movies which can be summed up in the words of a Grace Slick, Jefferson Airplane song played incessantly throughout the movie: "When the truth is found to be lies and all the joy within you dies, don't you want somebody to love?" The main character gets hit by Job-like catastrophes, has a King David moment on the roof of his house, and finds himself questioning all he has ever believed. The Coens seem to insist upon an absence of meaning in the universe and that the only answers lie in having a good hedonistic time with sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll.

Now I am not a film critic or a philosopher, but as I walked home I found myself considering the message of this movie. If God is unknowable and the universe is meaningless then we truly are in a difficult predicament. I found myself talking to God and seeking to take every thought captive to the faith I profess. It occurred to me that the Coen brothers start at the presupposition that there is no God who communicates with us. I start from a place where I believe there is a God who communicates and so as I walked I prayed.

As I walked along the seawall of False Creek a seal popped its head out of the water and began swimming at the pace of my walk. A second seal raised its head and swam beside it. The two swam along beside me for a while before diving below the surface and disappearing. I commented to God that it seemed like He had given me a sign to reassure me but that it was so brief that it would be hard to know. As I continued to walk, the two seals appeared and kept pace with me again before diving and disappearing below the surface. I said to God, "If I were a man like Gideon I might ask for a third time." As if on cue, the two seals appeared beside me a third time, swam beside me for a few more meters, swam out into the middle of the bay, dissappeared below the waves, and did not return.

I shared this story with a few trusted friends in my faith community. One friend said, "It made me chuckle, because it's not some miraculous display or even a small voice in your head, just this cute little show God put on for you to make you smile and give you a bit of reassurance."

Now skeptics will say that was all a coincidence and I cannot say it wasn't. There was no one around to witness this and even if there was what would that prove? Yet, I walked away from that moment amused and reassured. I felt that the Coen brothers were missing something in their understanding of life. Next time, I'm going to ask God to make the seals do tricks! :>)

Imagination

. . . we agree with Walter Brueggemann’s contention that one of the greatest dangers in our time is the “monopoly of our imagination.” Bowing before an idol, Brueggemann argues, is fundamentally a matter of “yielding the imagination” so that the world is experienced and interpreted in terms established by the idol. Consequently, “the key pathology of our time, which seduces us all, is the reduction of our imagination so that we are too numbed, satiated, and co-opted to do serious imaginative work.”*

What might be possible if we cultivated imagination? I don't mean the kind of imagination that dreams up the next reality TV show. I am not talking about imaginative ways to do what everyone else is doing. Imagination ought to lead to one-of-a-kind insights and creative new ways of thinking. Set aside some time to do some serious imaginative work.

*Brian J. Walsh and Sylvia C. Keesmaat, Colossians Remixed: Subverting the Empire. (Downers Grove, InterVarsity Press, 2004), 141.

Forgiving The Church

Henry Nouwen on forgiving the church:

When we have been wounded by the Church, our temptation is to reject it. But when we reject the Church it becomes very hard for us to keep in touch with the living Christ. When we say, "I love Jesus, but I hate the Church," we end up losing not only the Church but Jesus too. The challenge is to forgive the Church. This challenge is especially great because the Church seldom asks us for forgiveness, at least not officially. But the Church as an often fallible human organization needs our forgiveness, while the Church as the living Christ among us continues to offer us forgiveness. It is important to think about the Church not as "over there" but as a community of struggling, weak people of whom we are part and in whom we meet our Lord and Redeemer.*

*Henry Nouwen, www.henrinouwen.org

Mud Pies

Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.*

*C.S. Lewis – The Weight of Glory, 1949.