A man and his tattered toy elephant

Ever see an adult clutching a stuffed toy or holding a blanket close to his or her face? I did last Sunday; and admittedly - I had to look twice, because it's not something you see everyday. I saw an adult man holding a stuffed toy very close to his chest. Accompanied by his caregiver/guide, this man, with apparent special needs, was a visitor in our church so I don't know his story. However, this scene of a man holding his tattered toy elephant got me to think...and smile.

What if we carried around with us a special blanket, a piece of cloth, or a stuffed animal? And, when we were upset or nervous we would hold it up close to our face and the world would return to its peaceful state? Imagine if that was the norm. We would get ready for work and run a checklist through our head - wallet ... yup .... keys ... yup ... lunch ... yup ... teddy bear ... yup. What if you didn't like to carry 'things' but liked to suck your thumb, pinky finger, or even a plastic soother? In today's culture, you'd be looked upon as quirky, in need of professional help...or needed simply to be left alone!

If you think about it, it's really not far-fetched. The truth is many of us carry around items, or engage in habits that we've adopted as adults to give us the 'comfort' we need; and we've become chained to them. We've exchanged our blankets and chew toys for cigarettes, alcohol, and sex. We've traded our thumbs for the casino, fast cars, and the latest pair of shoes. Food. Fashion. Alcohol. Cars. Houses. Hollywood. These things, in and of themselves of are not bad, but we can pour ourselves into them in hopes they'll bring us happiness...and the comfort that internally we all crave and seek to secure. Subtlety, our comforts become our chains and what once provided self-security becomes our jail keeper.

I've been sucked in, too. As a university student, I started engaging in excessive behaviors in search for my own comfort. Wracked by what was undiagnosed anxiety at the time, unknowingly I turned to harmful substances as a way to cope. Instead of turning to the faith preciously handed to me from my parents, schools, and church, I turned to the 'Porcelain God' and became an eager 'Bedside Believer'.

However, on a bed, tucked away at the back of a house in Eastown, Grand Rapids, MI, I remember  praying to God and saying these exact words, "Please God, whatever faith I still have in you, do not let me lose it! Please don't let me go." I knew that what I was doing was counter to God's will. You see - I still believed there was evil in the world.  And, since I believed there was such a thing as evil, then rationally I had to believe that holiness and righteousness were also present. So, whenever I remembered to do so I prayed that prayer.

This year - 2015 - marks twenty five years since graduating university. My life has changed radically. I'm no longer held by chains that were masterfully disguised as comfort. I'm thankful that God has released me from 'servitude' to things into 'service' to Him. Has it been easy? No. But, God met me where I was - he had been with me all along and was waiting patiently. He has truly become...my only comfort in life, and in death. He is neither fake nor imaginary...he is real, and you'll never have to re-sew any toy limbs that have fallen off from too much lovin'!


Heidelberg Catechism Q & A 1

Q. What is your only comfort
in life and in death?

 

A. That I am not my own,¹
but belong—

body and soul,
in life and in death—²

to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.³

He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood,⁴
and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil.⁵
He also watches over me in such a way⁶
that not a hair can fall from my head
without the will of my Father in heaven;⁷
in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.⁸

Because I belong to him,
Christ, by his Holy Spirit,
assures me of eternal life⁹
and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready
from now on to live for him.¹⁰

¹ 1 Cor. 6:19-20
² Rom. 14:7-9
³ 1 Cor. 3:23; Titus 2:14
⁴ 1 Pet. 1:18-19; 1 John 1:7-9; 2:2
⁵ John 8:34-36; Heb. 2:14-15; 1 John 3:1-11
⁶ John 6:39-40; 10:27-30; 2 Thess. 3:3; 1 Pet. 1:5
⁷ Matt. 10:29-31; Luke 21:16-18
⁸ Rom. 8:28
⁹ Rom. 8:15-16; 2 Cor. 1:21-22; 5:5; Eph. 1:13-14
¹⁰ Rom. 8:1-17

Never found a friend quite like him again

I hadn't seen him in quite awhile. Slightly older, a little greyer, but my Dad's friend still had the same gentle voice as I had remembered. Time seemed to stop as we talked outside the front of the hardware store. We were only steps away from the same lumber yard where years earlier - before I was of school age - my Dad and I would visit almost every Tuesday, where he would catch up with his friends.

It didn't take long for us to start reflecting on things past...and the one person we had in common - my Dad. It doesn't happen as often as it used to, but I felt tears welling up when he said, "I still miss Don. He was 12 years older than me, but I've never found a friend quite like him again." Sixteen years after my dad died and I had just learned something special about him! I thought the bank containing memories of my Dad was as full as it was ever going to be.

I had never heard someone describe my Dad in that way - as a person whose friendship he's "never been able to find again". Dad and I were just starting to become friends when God called him home so suddenly and unexpectedly on April 30, 1999. So, I got a sense of what this man was saying as he described their friendship. He continued to tell me how they were always on the 'same page'. They looked at life through the same lens, and they were able to identify with one another. I saw, in that moment, the gift of friendship that this man had received through the knowing of my Dad...one that I have never been able to fully know.

I saw Jesus that day. I saw him weeping at the grave of his friend Lazarus. I saw him moved and troubled by the sorrow that was being expressed by Lazarus' friends. Jesus' humanity allowed him to feel the brokenness of this world that sin has caused, and he felt the impact of death's cold hand upon their lives. I heard him call to his friend, "Lazarus, come out." And, I heard him command, "Unbind him and let him go." John 11:1-45. And, death released his friend.

As life goes on, and death steals our loved ones away, we may never find the same type of friendships again here on earth. But Jesus has been there. He knows what it means to lose a friend. He has cried and I believe he cries with us when we mourn lost friendships. And, when we find new friends and laugh together, I believe Jesus laughs and smiles like proud parents would smile as they watch their children laugh and play with new found friends.

This morning, while getting ready to attend our worship service, I was singing, "What a friend we have in Jesus." Unknowingly, I would again hear this same song quoted by our pastor as he described how John Scriven, the author of this song, penned the words after losing not one, but two fiancées just days prior to the weddings. After losing two special people in his life, he was still able to say:

"Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged;
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness;
Take it to the Lord in prayer."

If you've ever lost a friend whose friendship you feel you've been unable to replace, know that Jesus' friendship is greater than any earthly friendship will ever be. Take comfort, we'll be separated from our friends who have died in Christ for only a short time. Our separation is not permanent.

And, one day when Jesus returns, I'll hear him say to my Dad, "Don, come out. Unbind him and let him go." And, we'll be able to catch up...I'll ask him to take me to his favourite lumber yard...and we'll hang out...maybe go out for a chocolate dipped DQ style ice cream cone. 'Cause I'm sure if ice cream cones had been invented when John wrote Revelation, he would have included it in his description of The Golden City, The New Jerusalem!

Excuse me while I laugh nervously

I'm guilty. I was one of those who laughed nervously pretending to be sanctimonious and self-righteous.

At our church service this morning, I was hoping to be granted clemency - ex cathedra if you will, of my sanctimonious and self-righteous views on sexual equality, rights, etc. Well, I did receive clemency, but not the way I had envisioned. I wanted to see a finger appear on the wall writing... "MENE, MENE, TEKEL and UPHARSIN" as it appeared in Daniel 5 with the addition of "THE SECOND ACT" in parentheses. And, then we could all look at each other smugly and say, "See, even God is angry with them! All those people who promote gay pride and homosexual marriage...SHAME!!" We'd sit back and wait for that huge thunderbolt to strike them all dead, wipe our hands, impatiently wait for the minister to say 'AMEN', go down to the fellowship hall, have a coffee, maybe go for a smoke, utter a mildly offensive joke, and complain to our fellow parishioner that there're too many people on welfare and that they are all bums, (or something similar). And, nervously we might laugh hoping the Right Reverend, Pastor, or Father didn't hear our conversation.

The fact is: many Christians (and, too often myself) are pretty good at pointing out the trespasses and missteps of others and refuse to acknowledge the existence of damning sins in our own lives. Jokingly, we make homophobic comments about how God sent a rainstorm to dampen the gay pride parade, but don't mind watching Modern Family. We ignore racial slurs made by fellow Christians against the Jewish community - ignoring that Jesus and the early church were of Jewish descent. Under aged drinking, while prohibited by law, is condoned by many Christian parents, but at the same time we acknowledge that God places government in authority and commands subordination. For other well intentioned Christians, working on Sunday is discouraged, but we become impatient and intolerant when the internet and cable service is interrupted during our 'day of rest'. I don't need to go on...I hope you get the point.

Sadly, we've all heard the accusation that the church is full of hypocrites. And, regrettably, I can't say I disagree - even when I look at my own life I see areas of blatant hypocrisy. Jesus said in Matthew 7:3-5 (NIV), ³ “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? ⁴ How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? ⁵ You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye." Think about that for a while. Is your brother or sister's spec materialism, or immodesty? Is your plank  greed, envy, or alcoholism? It's a sobering reminder that we ALL have fallen short of the glory of God.

So, before we get on our high horse and shout, "Thank you God that I'm glad I'm not like that guy who is dancing provocatively in the pride parade", we better practice honest repentance and clean out our own closet of skeletons. Isn't it true that it hurts less to point out the perceived faults of others than look truthfully at our own condition?

Am I suggesting that Christians should stay quiet on issues that we feel are contrary to living a life as Jesus did/would? No. However, in a world where actions and pictures speak louder than words, be careful that in your zeal to defend Christianity from the slings and arrows of so-called liberalism, you are not wounding Jesus simultaneously. To quote Ravi Zacharias, "There is no greater apologetic to win others to Christ than through the visible actions of your own life." At the same time, there is no greater way to turn people away from Christ than through your actions.

I didn't witness any writing on the wall this morning. I didn't hear the minister make bold statements on sexual morality. I did see something else on the wall of our sanctuary though - the empty cross. It reminded me of my own clemency. It reminded me that no matter what you or I have done - if you've been married 6 times, aborted a baby, been wasted 100, a 1000 times, stolen a million dollars, known the depths of pornographic addiction - whatever it is/was - if you believe in Jesus and his saving grace and have turned to him in repentance, know that you've been forgiven and He expects nothing in return.

I pray that this would be true for you. If it is, I promise - you won't see a smug smile, or hear any nervous laughter of embarrassment from me, but only humble tears and a joyful cry of thanks to our faithful savior, Jesus Christ.

Praying for fins and webbed feet after the rain comes

After today's (6/14/2015) rain at
Horizon Flower Farm

I'm a little embarrassed, and a lot more ashamed. Every year, for the past 8 years and going on 9, I go through the same see-saw battle. Too dry...too wet. Too cool...too hot. Too windy...too calm. (Yes...it can be too calm!) When it comes to our weather, growers have to be among the most cynical!

This past May, weather prognosticators were calling for the driest spring on record in the Greater Niagara region of Southern Ontario. To quote an article from last month in The Hamilton Spectator - "Tys Theysmeyer, head of natural lands at Royal Botanical Gardens, calls the situation "unbelievable."" Now, this June could go on record for being one of the wettest.

And, here I am...feeling like an Israelite in the Wilderness of Sin! Do you remember or know that story in the Bible? In Exodus 16, God had provided the Israelites with manna and quail after the people complained that they were better off in Egypt where food was plentiful. Then, in Exodus 17, the Israelites complained they didn't have any water to wash down their food! (Exodus 17: 3 But the people were thirsty for water there, and they grumbled against Moses. They said, “Why did you bring us up out of Egypt to make us and our children and livestock die of thirst?”)


I remember hearing these Bible stories when I was younger, and even more recently, and thinking - "Won't you believe?" How many times does God provide for you and you still don't trust? They're so stubborn! I'd never do that." But, I'm just as guilty, obstinate, and ungrateful (and every other adjective you can conjure up to describe 'dissatisfaction'). Over the past week, when people have asked me if we had enough rain over the past few weeks, I found myself mumbling - more like grumbling - "Yes, but make it stop. Now it's too wet."

God answered our prayers by sending rain. While California is going through a four year-drought, I'm now secretly praying for fins and webbed feet!

How many times does God provide when we think we're going to 'die of famine or thirst'? A new customer comes calling to buy most of my unsold peony crop; an unknown man from Ottawa sends a cheque for a piece of equipment when cash flow is tight; a neighbor presents his barn as a rental option when I outgrow my place; a relative lends a piece of needed equipment at a crucial planting time; a violent summer hail storm skirts our highly sensitive dahlia crop as we pray for a protective umbrella. Shall I go on? Shall I continue to remind myself of God's goodness?

In my family's short experience on Horizon Flower Farm, there is enough evidence to know...and believe...that NOTHING happens without reason or purpose. And, if God reroutes our paths toward a different vocation, he'll be there too - that we can depend on.

Still, my lack of trust gnaws at my soul. I can't help but feel ashamed for doubting; for asking for more proof of his providence; for more evidence that he cares. But I know he has patience...and for that I'm grateful!

Who invites someone to suffer and expects a 'Yes'?

I've heard it repeated twice now in the last few weeks. Both occasions were similar and both were celebrations of several young people publicly accepting Jesus . Each time the wording was unmistakably clear. It was an invitation to join in suffering. And, if I didn't know what the pastor meant, I'd probably make for the nearest exit...because I don't need an extra side dish of suffering...thank you very much. Truthfully and selfishly, suffering usually looks best on other people.

For those unfamiliar with Public Profession of Faith (as practiced in the Christian Reformed Church), this is a highly celebrated event in the lives of Christian believers where a person is asked several questions in front of a church regarding their Christian faith. And, if they agree and believe the statements of faith as presented, they answer in the affirmative: "I do". After which, the professing members are welcomed with these words, spoken by the minister presiding over the ceremony:

"I welcome you to full participation in the life of the church. I welcome you to its responsibilities, its joys, and its sufferings." Christian Reformed Church - Profession of Faith Form

"I welcome you to....its sufferings". I wonder how many people who hear those words think about the meaning of the invitation. What about people hearing those words for the first time? I mean - celebrating marriages, births and anniversaries are easy and natural. But suffering? Really? Why would I want to do that?

Here's why...and I can think of two answers, but there are probably more.

First - as crazy at it sounds, suffering draws people together. It unites. I think it probably draws more people together than a celebration (except maybe a royal wedding!). Recently, several people within my Christian family have either been diagnosed with cancer, lost dear loved ones to death, or have been involved in an accident. And amazingly, we are drawn to one another. In our shared tears, we become the hands and feet of Jesus and become his agents of peace and healing. In our shared humanity, we are called to cry with those who cry and laugh with those who laugh.

Second - this is where I put my theological glasses on, and is most likely what is meant by the pastor's welcome to the new members. When we suffer for the gospel; that is when we are verbally and/or physically attacked for our Christian faith, we suffer for Christ. The Bible says that when we have problems and trials this will help produce in us endurance. I like how The King James Version puts Romans 5:3 - "And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience." Paul wrote: “… indeed we share in His sufferings in order that we may also share in His glory. I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us” (Rom 8:17-18).

That's the best part is...if we share in Christ's suffering, we get to share in his glory! How cool is that?

It's easy to write this. I know. I just pray that when I get a side dish of suffering God will give me two things - the strength to 'walk the talk', and people to cry and laugh with. I've never worn a real crown!

Am I really going to read "Green Eggs and Ham" again?

9 Wood Street East, Hamilton, ON

I'm curious by nature. I love looking at old pictures, finding ancient pottery in our flower fields, and turning over rocks just in case there's something hidden underneath. (Actually, I do have a collection of old pottery pieces I've found in our field, and I have a theory that they're from an ancient civilization. My wife thinks they're from the previous homeowner who happened to have dropped a ceramic plate! Sheesh...can't a guy dream?) Back to my curiosity...

So, I'm driving my son to his friend's home in Hamilton, and with two eyes on the road - ok, one and a half - I spot something unique...at least to me. Now, I can't say I'm a globetrotter by any stretch of the imagination, but I have read a lot, and I like to think I pay attention to things that many people view as the visual form of 'white noise. If I haven't seen it, I've at least heard, or read about it. Not quite. Not even close. This so-called white noise that I see is in the shape of an old schoolhouse perched atop a pole. No - it's not a birdhouse or a leftover version of 'The Burning Schoolhouse' of last week's May 2-4 fireworks display; it's a library! It's a mini library - about 2 cubic feet. But, I can't stop. This landmark is bookmarked for memory.

About 3 minutes later, using my fail-safe short term memory, I relocated the 'library on a stick' and decided to stop and have a closer look. It was remarkable...this head scratcher is called "The Little Free Library". Inside this 'library' were about a dozen or so books with a smaller section below containing children's books. On the little window, there was a sign "Take a Book - Return a Book". Brilliant! It was a free resource for the community to share books with one another and encourage reading.

Doing a little web research on the "Little Free Library" opened up a wonderful story of the library's originators and the success story it has become throughout the world. In 2009, with a modest goal of initiating 2,509 mini libraries in the United States, it now boasts of over 25,000 throughout the world. Apparently, there are 2 in Burlington, 2 in Dundas, and 4 in Hamilton - all within a 15 minute drive! Huffington Post, NBC News, and the Saturday Evening Post have all run stories on this remarkable effort.

Since stumbling across this library, and researching its roots, I can't help but think of a question asked on the Little Free Library's website and the answer given,

"Can you imagine a world without books?

​We can’t either, but for many this world exists. They live in book deserts -places where books are difficult to access or afford. In fact in some places there’s only one book for every 300 children. We can all help change this book barren landscape."

 

Book deserts. That's another phrase I've never heard before, and it's uncomfortable. My family has shelves full of books that are collecting dust and haven't seen the light of day in years. Do we really think someone will read them? Not one of them is a collector's item...except for the odd Hardy Boy or Nancy Drew epic cliffhanger! What about the 7 or 8 children's Bibles hidden away? We're 'book rich' and unknowingly hoarding our wealth. (A quick look in a closet confirmed Scotia Bank's claim. We are richer than we think!) We think of helping others with food, clothing and furniture...but not books. That's going to change. I've got some books to give away!

The language of saying 'Yes' to God's love

Today, I struggled. Not in the sense that I couldn't cope or was finding it hard to carry on - I struggled  with words. I found the need for suitably descriptive words to be inexhaustible today.

Thankful. Abundant. Gracious. Faithful. Protection. Covenant. Promise. Spirit. Fire. Wind. Water. Love. Words that I used or heard today in one way or another.

We forget though - we don't always need words to express ourselves or to describe the scene. There were many moments during our Pentecost Sunday worship service where words seemed almost unnecessary.

This morning, I listened to a personal testimony of a lady committing her life to Christ. She talked about how God called her back from the edge of a bridge and how he surrounded her with people who befriended and discipled her, and reintroduced Jesus into her life. I saw her kneel with her two young children. And I saw the water splash from the baptismal font, flow out of the Pastor's hands, and trickle down their faces onto their clothes. They were cleansed. And, we didn't need any words. We saw his grace.

I heard four young adults - two of them our own children - confess publicly that Jesus Christ is their Lord, and Saviour. We listened to their faith journey as they described the moments in their lives when they accepted Jesus as their Saviour. As a father, I learned for the first time that a few years ago privately, my son said 'Yes' to God's invitation during a SERVE event and my daughter said 'Yes' while attending a GEMS' retreat. This morning, they responded to God's calling publicly. And, we didn't need any words. We saw his faithfulness.

I witnessed a battle. Satan doesn't like to lose - and he doesn't like being reminded that he lost 2000 years ago on Calvary to Jesus. I saw a 'spiritual wrench' thrown into the life of one of God's children in a failed attempt to thwart this morning's service. I'll never forget the look in her face when in defiance to this attack, the words, "Jesus will protect me" were spoken with such fiery conviction. I hugged her. And, we didn't need any words. We saw his protection.

I saw promises fulfilled. Promises made by friends and family to God that we would train our children in his ways, and would remind them that they were God's own children. Promises made by two young parents amid the whirlwind of demands made by twin babies who were completely oblivious to the significance of the moment. And, I saw these same friends and family celebrate under a tent 6,181 days after they made those promises on June 21, 1998. And, we didn't need words. We saw his fellowship in the communion of saints.

Words...yup...there're useful occasionally. But, there's a conversation going on around us that you can only see and hear with your eyes. It's the language of  saying 'Yes' to God's love.