THE WAY I SEE IT

THE WAY I SEE COVID-19

We have new vocabulary that all of us are navigating. Social Distancing. Approximately a month ago few of us had ever heard of the term. A few weeks into it, many are suggesting it is not a good term, since we are all inherently social beings who need human contact even when we are distant from one another. So Physical Distancing is the new terminology. Keep a measured distance apart from one another. To help define this, we are told where we can go and how often. In the supermarket lines are taped to the floor to ensure that we do not get too close. See-through-barriers for cashiers, bus drivers and others. And we are not supposed to be in gatherings of people. At first it was groups no larger than 200, then 50, then 5, and now even meeting with one other person outside of your household is not recommended. We are threatened with penalties if we do not comply.

Its been a learning curve. For me, it began earlier than for most. I went into the hospital at the end of February for an operation, and during my convalescence at home, the Corona Virus (Covid-19) pandemic began to grow and spread. At first we thought it was something limited to a specific part of the world (China), but now we have the shocking reality of 614,136 worldwide cases, 4,326 of them in Canada. It has resulted in 28,251 deaths, 55 of them in Canada. And the numbers climb every day, so the ones I cited are probably out of date by the time anyone reads this. More interesting statistics can be found here.

We have, it seems an information overload on this event that is unlike anything we have seen in modern times. I will restrict myself therefore, to some personal impressions.

First, I would mention the sense of shock that I felt the first time I went into a grocery store and saw the empty shelves. Not only toilet paper and related products were missing, but the store I went to had no meat, no potatoes, no pasta, no bread. I felt tears coming to my eyes, because I remember Mom and Dad telling us stories of such conditions in post-war Europe, and I recall seeing documentaries about shortages in countries behind what was once called the Iron Curtain, but I never thought I would see such things with my own eyes here in Canada, the land of plenty that I was raised in. So I tried my luck by going to a second grocery store. There I was able to pick up the last package of spaghetti (not the kind of pasta I was looking for, but that was the only choice).

Secondly, I am disappointed by the foolishness that I see and hear not only in the media, but even among my own acquaintances. People who ignore the directives of our governments, and foolishly talk about how the whole thing is exaggerated.

Social media seems to be a great tool to stay in touch with those who mean a lot to us, and whom we cannot be with at this time. Sadly, many abuse that to peddle misinformation about miracle cures. I too have posted humorous things, thinking we need the relief of humour, but slowly it is no longer funny.

Finally, the pandemic is bringing out the best (or the worst) in people. In short, it is revealing who we really are, and sadly who we will continue to be when its over. Those who don’t go to church, for example, do not miss the fact that places of worship are closed, and for them nothing will be different when they open again. Those who have been socially distant, remain so to this day, and don’t do anything to reach out to loved ones and others, despite the ironic term of “social media”. I am very happy to be in touch with people that way, and disappointed (but not surprised) by those I have not heard from. Those who are by nature generous and caring, are the ones who are currently reaching out to the vulnerable and the helpless, and we read touching stories of that. They will continue to be generous and caring when this is all over.

Like many others, I ask myself, when we will return to some level of normality, and how will that normal look? At first we thought it is a matter of weeks, now we are hearing talk about months when the emergency restrictions will be lifted.

I really like what someone has said (and I’d love to give credit but I don’t remember who it was): “in our rush to get back to normal, we should reflect on what we want to get back to, and what we should leave behind”. Couldn’t have said it better myself.

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!

Well today is Valentines Day … and those men who forgot it will have a painful reminder from someone who didn’t. Now depending on how romantic or sentimental you are by nature, we each have a different approach to dealing with the middle of February. For some it is just a stepping stone between Christmas and Easter — something to add colour and magic to the long and dreary winter. For some this not so holy day is an essential part of their romance, whether the relationship be new and exciting, or one that is long and stable. Others say that a good marriage or “relationship” as it is called nowadays, really doesn’t need a calendar day to keep it fresh and exciting. For others, the day is an excuse to indulge (or overindulge) in chocolate before the austere season of lent begins. In any case, florists, and the good people at Hallmark love Valentines Day.

So where did the day come from? Trying to explain that is an exercise in trivia because there are so many stories and legends about how the day actually came to be. And yes there was a St. Valentine, actually not one but as many as 15. It was a very popular name in antiquity.

My favourite story about the origin of Valentine’s Day concerns a priest by that name who was executed on or about February 14 in the year 270 A.D. This happened during the reign of the Roman Emperor Claudius II, who was a brutal and cruel man. He believed that Roman men were reluctant to join the army because of their attachment to their wives and children. So his idea of solving the problem was to forbid marriage for young men below a certain age. Valentine the priest however, continued to perform secret marriages for young lovers. When he was discovered, he was hauled before Claudius and sentenced to be beaten to death with clubs and to have his head cut off. Legend also has it that while in jail, St. Valentine left a farewell note for the jailer’s daughter, who had become his friend, and signed it “From Your Valentine.” So Valentine became the martyr who was the champion of love.

The Roman Catholic Church recognizes him and two others by that name on their official list of “saints”. There are different stories and legends behind how St. Valentine’s name became associated with love. Some believe that the date of his death may have become mingled with the Feast of Lupercalia, a pagan festival of love. On those occasions, the names of young women were placed in a box, from which men could draw random names of people who became their “Valentine” . In 496 A.D., Pope Gelasius decided to put an end to the Feast of Lupercalia, and he declared that February 14 be celebrated as St Valentine’s Day. So there you have it. However you choose to observe or not observe the day, be happy, or better still bring happiness to the ones you love, or those whom you don’t, who need it most!

What to Preach About at Christmas?

I wrote this column a few years ago for my colleagues (and anyone else who wanted to “listen in”). Here it is back by popular request.

Most churches experience bigger crowds at Christmas or Easter than during the normal course of the year. In the churches that I have served in the past, the church was always full on Christmas Eve, sometimes to overflowing. In fact many churches have multiple services on Christmas Eve to accommodate the crowds. That would make Christmas Eve even more popular than Easter Sunday The question is, how do we treat the people that cause our congregations to swell for the holidays? Some preachers are tempted (and a few succumb to the temptation) to take advantage of a captive audience. So over the years of doing Christmas sermons, I have learned what to say and what NOT to say. So let me begin with the “Thou Shalt Not’s” for preachers on Christmas Eve.

THOU SHALT NOT belittle or make fun of “The Christmas and Easter Crowd”. Yes, it is true that there are people who never darken the door of a church except perhaps on those days, and many of those are there under duress – they came in order to keep peace in their family and to avoid being nagged by the holier than thou relatives. Do you think you are in any way helpful by making a snide remark about how your church is open all the rest of the year? Of course you wish they would come back more often, but the way to entice them is to make the service so wonderful that they will think of it themselves, “hey this isn’t so bad! In fact I rather like it! Maybe I could try it again some time). But guilt tripping or shaming them will not motivate them to be back.
THOU SHALT NOT RANT OR RAVE about the commercialization of Christmas, the hectic activities of the season or for that matter any other subject. Rants are seldom if ever appropriate in the pulpit, but a preacher who gives one at Christmas, has in my opinion, totally failed his or her calling. Yes, everyone knows about how secular and devoid of spiritual meaning Christmas has become in our world. But haven’t you got something more wonderful than that to speak about at Christmas? How about, “For unto you is born this day a Saviour” ? I want to illustrate this point with a personal experience. In the church that I grew up in, the Christmas Eve service always began at dusk, so that most of the evening was free for the family celebration that occurs in German families on Christmas Eve. This meant that it was sometimes difficult to get to the service on time as shops were closing and people were hurrying home from work. I remember one particular Christmas Eve when our pastor scolded the many late-comers, and angrily talked about how senseless the whole Christmas razzle-dazzle was. I was maybe 12 years old, and could not figure out why the pastor was so angry on Christmas Eve! Now, more than 60 years later, is it any surprise that this is ALL that I can remember about that particular service?
THOU SHALT NOT TRIFLE WITH NON-ESSENTIAL TRIVIA. The people sitting in front of you, whether they are faithful attendees or once a year visitors do not care that Jesus was not born on December 25, and that the date for Christmas was fixed by a pope who tried to syncretize a pagan celebration with the birth of Christ. Nor do they care that the angelic host did not sing but rather “spoke” their gloria in excelsis (see Luke 2:13), nor that we don’t really know how many magi there were, and that they were certainly not “3 Kings of Orient”. If you think that these details are important to know, then perhaps a Bible study group or a Sunday teaching message on another occasion might be a more appropriate forum to wax eloquent on such gems. But in the main Christmas services, people come for a variety of reasons: looking for hope, looking to be inspired, longing to have their hearts stirred in worship. Don’t send them out empty. Don’t reduce Christmas to a game of trivia.
THOU SHALT NOT FORGET THOSE WHO FIND CHRISTMAS DIFFICULT. Among your listeners will be people for whom this will be the first Christmas without a loved one whom they lost in the previous year. Whether it was by death or divorce, or some other loss, they may be emotionally raw. Or perhaps the loss didn’t happen this year, but it happened long ago at Christmas, and so each year there is a difficult surge of memories. How do you help such people? For one thing, don’t ignore them. On the other hand, don’t rub salt into their wound by singling them out or dwelling on heartache and pain. A thoughtful gesture might be to refer to all such people in one of the prayers in the service (not by name). Or a brief word as you give them a special greeting as you shake their hand at the door or a hug if you are the hugging type.

All right then, what SHOULD I preach about at Christmas? I think the answer to that can best be answered in the words of the hymn writer, Tell me the old, old story. I particularly like the line in the first verse that says, tell me the story simply, as to a little child. While it may enthral you to wax eloquent on the theological implications of God’s incarnation, many of those who need to hear the Good News will not understand your ruminations. I recall sitting in the audience of a Christmas service years ago where the man in the pulpit preached on a text from Romans about the doctrine of justification. He talked about how the cross was more important than the cradle, and his sermon was riddled with terms like Jesus’ blood being shed for our sins. I felt like giving him a calendar for Christmas.

I have heard preachers complain that they find it hard to find exciting ways to talk about Christmas after doing it for so many years, particularly if you are in the same congregation for a number of years. I have to say that I don’t understand that. I have been doing Christmas sermons for well over 40 years, and I have yet to run out of material. While I still have manuscripts of my early efforts, I rarely if ever “dip into the barrel”. Each year, I immerse myself in the Christmas story in Matthew and Luke’s gospels, and I always find something that is new in that old, old story. Tell them about the Savior, tell them about the Joy that the new-born King brings and show them how even their own life can be changed by believing that message. There aren’t enough Christmases to exhaust that message.

POST ELECTION THOUGHTS

On Tuesday, October 22, Canadians woke up to find that the sky hadn’t fallen, and the world hadn’t come to an end. It will, but not just yet, despite the most acrimonious federal election that I can remember.

As I watched the returns on Monday night, I tried to count how many election nights I had watched – some of them in the very living room where I now live, when I stayed up together with my father and waited to find out who had won. Since Dad had to get up early the next morning to go to work, he often didn’t sit it out until the end, but I usually liked to stay up at least until the losing political leader had conceded the election. If I liked the winner, I would stay up for his victory speech, if not I went to bed. But that was many years ago when I had more energy. This time I packed it in soon after the outcome was apparent. So I missed the Prime Minister’s rude victory speech that apparently began before Andrew Scheer could finish his concession speech.

Most of us, I’m sure, are all “electioned out”. Even before the campaign officially began, we knew that it would be one of the nastiest in our history. Enough lies, character assassination to go around. It was more about sound bites than explanation of platforms or policy. A farcical English language debate, with a ludicrous format that was carefully crafted by the organizers appointed by the government to avoid discussion of anything embarrassing to the prime minister, or for that matter things of interest to the voters, such as economic policy or foreign affairs. The prime minister did not have to account for the deficit that his government created, nor his ineffective performance in Canada’s tenuous relations with foreign powers.

During his four years in office, the prime minister has broken almost every promise made in the 2015 election, including the promise of electoral reform. Now we know why. To be able to win an election while losing the popular vote.

This time around, about a third of Canada’s eligible voters decided to sit the election out and not vote. I don’t agree with that, but I do understand the frustration of people who wonder what difference their vote makes, when the outcome of electing a government for the entire nation is decided in two provinces and a few big cities.

I did vote on Monday, and as I walked into the polling station, I remembered being in Kenya during their last presidential election, and I thanked God that I live in a country where we can do this in peace, without the violence and deaths that accompanies elections in Kenya.

But needless to say, I think the outcome was not good. For one thing, we don’t have a truly national government that represents the interests of the whole country called Canada. The fractured minority parliament represents an array of regional divisions and alienations. Western provinces have little representation in the government, and two are not represented at all. Quebec has a large number of members of parliament whose only interest is “what is good for Quebec” and they have put the minority government on notice that propping the government up comes with a price tag.

For another thing, the governing party managed to become that by sowing and nurturing this disunity throughout the campaign by demonizing provincial premiers who disagreed with the liberal position. And this was orchestrated by a sitting prime minister who had been found guilty of breaking conflict of interest rules – twice – and whose outright lies on so many issues are well documented. As it became evident that he once again would be the prime minister, I had to think of 2. Thessalonians 2:11 that talks about people believing a lie.

Nevertheless, for better or worse, we now have a government, whether it is to our liking or not. For the Christian this means that while this government may make it more and more difficult for us to live by and express our values, it is still our government. This means we have the obligation to submit to it, and to pray for it, as 1. Timothy 2:2 commands us. That verse, to pray for those in authority, was written from prison by the Apostle Paul who was subject to the authority of a government that was much worse than the one Canadians have just elected. The Roman government under which Paul lived was not a democracy, it was an oppressive regime that persecuted Christians relentlessly. Ultimately, Paul suffered the death penalty under that government. So things have turned out badly for Canadians (or at least so I think) but it could be, and perhaps will be, much worse some day. We’re not there yet.♦

SAVE THE PLANET?

Global Warming. Climate Change. Greenhouse gases. It is impossible not to hear these terms, and now that we are in the midst of a federal election we hear them even more. Now before I say anything else, let me make it clear that I am totally in favour of the idea of taking care of our planet. God has made us stewards to take care of our earth, and collectively we have done a very poor job of it.

However, the annoyance factor over the hype over this issue has grown to outright disgust and anger for many of us over the way that our politicians of all stripes are using this issue to try and buy our votes. The other day a political flyer arrived at my doorstep which encouraged me to “save the planet” by voting for that party.

So a “reality check” of facts would be in order here. According to The Union of Concerned Scientists, Canada produces only about 1.6% of the greenhouse gases produced globally. Even reducing Canada’s portion by 50% will not make much of a difference to our planet’s wellbeing.

According to the scientists mentioned above,

The top six polluters are:

1: China 9,040,000 Metric Tons.

2: USA 4,997,000 Metric Tons.

3: India: 2,066,000 Metric Tons.

4: Russia 1,468,000 Metric Tons.

5: Japan 1,141,000 Metric Tons.

6: Germany 729,000 Metric Tons.

Canada ranks 9^th,with 549,000 Metric Tons or 6% of China, or 1.6% Globally

In the past our governments have set lofty targets, which were never met. The target that the liberals are promoting during this campaign was actually set by the previous Harper conservative government. At that time, our Prime Minister who was then in opposition, scoffed at that target as being “insignificant”. Hypocritically, he has not only borrowed (or stolen) the conservative target, but also introduced a carbon tax which many scientists believe accomplishes very little if anything but grabbing cash for government coffers.

That is why I am not amused by election propaganda that claims that votes for a particular party will “save the planet”. Nothing will save this planet from what God said will happen to it: “Heaven and Earth will pass away” (Luke 21:33; Matt.24:35; Mark 13:31) and John, the apocalyptic writer of the Book of Revelation speaks of “a new heaven and a new earth for the first earth had passed away”. (Revelation 21:1)

Salvation is needed by the inhabitants of this planet more than the planet itself. Hardly anyone, whether inside or outside the church, and least of all our politicians care about that.

The views expressed in this post are my own, and not necessarily those of my employer.

BACK TO SCHOOL!

Since August 1 (a month into summer holidays and over a month before school starts) we have been seeing and hearing that phrase. Back to School sale. How to wean children off holidays and get them back into school mode. How to help them adjust to earlier bed times. How to pack healthy lunches. The list goes on and on. Over the course of the month, the intensity of that kind of talk has been building, until it reached a frenzy. Last week you couldn’t turn on the TV without some advertiser, some newscaster, even the weather forecaster, talking about Back to School.

Of course politicians had to do their share in order to muddy the discussion even more. Fear mongering about a possible labour dispute among teachers. Mandatory math tests for teachers. Sex education curriculum (and yes, that one is more about politics than the needs of children). And finally, in the last days before school, out comes that old chestnut about the ban of cell phones in the classroom, ensuring more heated debate by students and teachers on both sides of the issue.

Normally I just ignore all that hot air. But on August 7 an article on the front page of our local newspaper The Waterloo Region RECORD really caught my ire. Under the headline Are You Entertained Enough? the article reports about a University of Waterloo study that “finds students expect lecturers to be more interesting so they don’t get distracted by tech [nology] during class“. The article makes the astounding statement “while students felt that it is their choice to use the technology, they saw it as the instructors’ responsibility to motivate them not to use it”. Now that is an interesting twist! Its another way of saying, “I have a right to do this, but it is your fault if I do”. It is blame shifting clear and simple. It is always someone else’s fault. And of course we all do that on so many different levels in life. But I will stay with this one issue for today.

As I passed through the various levels of education, beginning in grade school, technology was always in use according to the extent that it was available at the time. I remember how happy we were as kids when the teacher took us either to the auditorium or some other darkened room to watch a “film” as it was then called (not a movie). Then came the “film strip”, which was much like coloured slides – images that were projected to a screen. A recording provided audio commentary with a beep sound to alert the teacher to go to the next frame. Then came educational television, produced by the Ontario government. We viewed these programs (black and white at first) on TV monitors that sat on wheeled stands that were tall enough so that the entire class could see the program.

I remember in Jr. High (called senior public in our part of the country) when the overhead projector came out. Some teachers were skeptical, and others embraced it with a vengeance and literally stopped using the blackboard (or green board. White boards came later).

And when I went to seminary, preaching class included having to preach practice sermons in class. These sermons were recorded on video tape, which was then re-played for analysis by the teacher and by your peers. The more often the instructor hit the pause button to make comments, the worse your sermon was. And then came the general use of computers and programs like PowerPoint, which today are used extensively by university professors and teachers alike.

In the church, we moved along using all of the above, though in most cases lagging just a bit behind. I remember the days when missionary slides could be shown in the sanctuary, but movies were relegated to the church basement. I have used powerpoint for preaching for a number of years, taking into account that some people process information better visually than verbally, and most appreciate having the benefit of both. Technology itself is morally neutral – if we control it, it is our servant. But unfortunately, more often than not, the reverse is true.

This is the case with the cell phone in the classroom (or the church). These highly developed devices are usually “smart phones” meaning that in addition to making and receiving phone calls, they can also be used to receive and send text messages, emails, or access the internet. There is nothing wrong with any of these activities, except when they distract you from real time activity like conversation with a real live person in front of you, which can be a dinner date, or a classroom, and yes even in church!

Because of what these devices can do, the potential for distraction is always high. But it is a real stretch to say that that being distracted is not your own fault, but the fault of the other. Can you imagine saying to your dinner date, “sorry but you are not interesting enough, so I have to yield to the temptation to check this message”?

It annoys me to no end to be in the company of someone who is constantly reaching for their smart phone to read or answer some type of message. It makes me feel so unimportant to that person sitting across from me. To use the logic of the UW study, maybe I’m not interesting enough to motivate the person not to reach for their smart phone. There is only one word to describe the reasoning of people in that study (or outside of it) – ludicrous! Those students should re-assess why they are in that classroom, and how motivated they are to succeed.

I have spent a just a little time teaching at a post-secondary level when I taught at a college in Kenya for six months in two years. In Kenya, everyone has a cell phone or smart phone, whether they can afford it or not. Therefore in the first lecture of each course that I taught, I laid down the law: I don’t want to see (or hear) your phone at any time in my lecture hall. And no, you may not go out into the hall to use your phone. All of my students survived this measure, and some even got pretty good marks!

Of course I can’t do that in church, because people don’t have to be there. When I’m preaching, and I see someone using a smart device, I give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they are either accessing their online Bible, or taking notes, even though I know that most of them are not. (You would be surprised what the preacher can see – and when someone is looking in their lap and smiling, they are probably zoned out of what is happening in the service). But I will not compete with your smart phone. What you get out of the service really depends on what you put into it. Its up to you.

REMEMBERING A FRIEND

It was September, 1978. Benton Street Baptist Church in Kitchener, welcomed a new pastor, Rev. James Reese to their staff. On that same Sunday, the church that is now Eastwood Christian Fellowship welcomed me as their new pastor. That is how long I have known the friend that I lost when Pastor Jim died on July 5, just two weeks ago. Whereas Jim Reese stayed on at Benton St Baptist for 25 years first as Associate Pastor, then Senior Pastor, then Associate once again before retiring, I stayed at Eastwood only 5 years before moving to serve in western Canada, before returning to Ontario again in 1993. Our paths soon crossed after our arrival in Kitchener, as we had fellowship in ministerial gatherings, and planning inter church functions such as the Barry Moore crusade in “The Aud” in Kitchener.

While I was out west, I returned to Kitchener and area often for vacations and other reasons. The church of choice to attend was of course Benton St. Baptist. How could there be any other? – a church that is a beacon of faith in this area, and the church that was on the radio with the sonorous voice of Jim Reese preaching, and sometimes singing and even playing the trombone – occasionally in the same service. (Benton’s evening service was broadcast live on a local radio station for over 50 years). Although the congregational singing was accompanied by the powerful strains of Benton’s pipe organ, I have seen Jim Reese abruptly leave the platform in the middle of a hymn, only to return moments later with his trombone to help the organ and the piano! At other times we would arrive at a service to see his trombone parked beside the pulpit, and we knew it would be an interesting and delightful service. I had this talented pastor in several of my pulpits. In my previous church in Hamilton, Jim Reese preached at my installation, and again at my farewell 13 years later. And in my present church, he stood in the pulpit and sang and spoke words of encouragement at my installation just a few months ago. Now those were all public events, seen and heard by many.

But a pastor does not only shepherd the flock at large, he gives individual spiritual attention, guidance and encouragement to the sheep when they are hurting or when they need guidance. But whom does the pastor turn to when he needs this kind of care? Jim Reese was that shepherd or pastor to myself and our family. Although I wasn’t always a member of the church that he led, my family and I did consider him to be a shepherd and pastor us. When my brother Norbert and Janine were married, Jim and I jointly officiated. When Eric, their first born arrived, Jim and I did the baby dedication together. About 20 years ago I spent about a month in the hospital in Burlington. Although I didn’t request it, he unexpectedly appeared at my bedside. It was a day when there was a freezing rain storm in Ontario, and I asked him why he would risk being out in traffic to travel from Kitchener to Burlington. He replied, “the bond of friendship is very deep, my brother!”

When our family experienced the sad and painful illness and death of our mother in 2010, and our father in 2015, Jim Reese was the “shepherd” at the bedside of our parents, and at our side as a family as well. In fact when my father passed away in the middle of the night, Jim Reese come to the hospice to see us. He sat with us, wept with us, comforted us, quietly sang to us, and stayed with us until the funeral home came to take Dad away. The hospice where Dad died has a very nice practice of escorting a deceased person through the front door, with a procession in which all staff members who are present take part. There was Pastor Jim, leading the procession, with us a family and the staff following the stretcher. Before we reached the door, Pastor Jim paused at the place where Dad had fallen and broken his back a week earlier, and he prayed a prayer of thanksgiving for the salvation that Dad had in Jesus, and which he was now enjoying in the Lord’s presence. Anyone listening to the prayer would have heard the good news of salvation and how they could obtain it if they cared to. With Jim’s help, I was able to jointly officiate at the funeral of both of my parents.

But my pastor-friend Jim was also a gracious colleague and a mentor. Over the years I have observed him, and also adopted some of his practices. Like for example the practice of praying for colleagues on Saturday night. Years ago, he told me about his practice of praying for colleagues and missionaries on Saturday evening and he assured me that I was on his “list”. Part of of my Saturday evening ritual now is to think of pray for my fellow pastors who would be serving the Lord the next day. We also exchanged and shared ideas from time to time. “What are you preaching on these days?” was a frequent question.

While I was ministering in Calgary, I had invited him to spend a week at our church with “Deeper Life Meetings” as we used to call them. How delighted our people were to see and hear someone who could preach, sing, and play the trombone all in the same service! We saw a number of decisions for Christ in those days. During that week, my phone rang late in the evening. It was Dr. Ted Rendal, then the President of Prairie Bible Institute in Three Hills, Alberta. He had heard that Jim Reese was in Calgary, and had tracked him down to me. They were having a missions conference at Prairie, and he was wondering if it were at all possible for Jim to come and sing at one of the daytime services. I said I would ask, and Jim joyfully agreed. As we drove from Calgary to Three Hills, Jim sat beside me with his briefcase on his knees. He shuffled through sheets of music, trying to decide which ones he would sing. He would hum, and sometimes sing a portion of a song. It was much nicer than having the radio on!

Although I considered Jim to be far advanced not only in age but in pastoral experience, I never had the feeling of being “talked down” to. Not only did he never seek to showcase his great talents and ability, there was also a deep sense of humility.

For example, when I was between ministries for a short while, I worked at the funeral home that was diagonally across from Benton St. Baptist Church. From my office window, I could see the church, and the parking spaces for staff. One day I observed Jim Reese pull up, and he crossed the street to the funeral home. He was coming to see me. We sat and chatted, and then he turned to a particular problem that he was facing because he once again had the full load of ministry while the senior Pastor, Bob Parks, was on sabbatical. After outlining the issue, he surprised me with the question, “do you have any wisdom for me?” Well, I didn’t, and I told him that the question was better asked the other way around, but since neither of us had the needed wisdom, we turned to God in prayer.

The one thing that stands out to me the most when I think about Jim Reese, is his amazing positive spirit. I never saw him “down”, though I’m sure he had his moments of trial also. His letters and emails were always signed, “Joyfully in Christ”. I’m sure that he now enjoys the fullness of that joy.

MOTHERS DAY THOUGHTS

This Sunday is Mother’s Day and I plan to do something I haven’t done for the past decade or so, and that is preach a Mothers Day sermon. My mother died in January 2010, and for two years before that she was very ill, a difficult time for us as a family. So when Mother’s Day came around for the past 10 or so years, it was just too emotional, so I either reminded the congregation that Mother’s Day really isn’t a biblical holiday (which it isn’t!) and continued whatever series I was preaching on at the time or I would delegate the Mother’s Day sermon to an associate or intern (who needed the practice).

Over the years, I had been through most of the godly mothers mentioned in the Bible. One colleague suggested that we try preaching about Jezebel as a negative role model, but I never dared to do that! While I certainly will mention my mother on Sunday, the message will not be about her. But in order to honour her, I will write about her here.

My mother grew up in a German settlement in Romania called “Siebenbürgen” (Seven Fortresses). She grew up in a blended home with a step-father, after her father was out of the family picture for some reason. Mom left home at the age of 14. During the Second World War, the Russians invaded and later annexed Romania, and deported many people into slave labour to Russia. Although Mom didn’t talk very much about those times, I did hear some of her stories about hard labour in road construction. Unbelievable conditions for a teenager. It left scars that remained with her for life, both emotionally and physically.

At some point Mom arrived in what was later to become East Germany. Friends took her to a Baptist church, where mom found the Lord Jesus as her personal saviour. Some of the friendships formed in the youth group lasted the rest of her life. We had a Christmas nativity set that was a gift from one of those friends. Sometimes when mom asked me to mail a letter for her, she would tell me about the person to whom the letter was going, and what that person meant to her.

After the war had ended, Mom was able to flee to West Germany and ended up in Munich, where she met my father, and where I was born after they had married. For a brief time we moved to the Black Forest and lived in a flat in the same building as my paternal grandparents – three generations under one roof. But this was only a transitional time until the preparation for our immigration to Canada was complete. We landed in Halifax in 1956 and lived first in Windsor, where my younger sister, Gudrun was born. Our pastor, Rev. John Goetze, who had married my parents in Munich, found some work more suited for Dad in Kitchener, and we moved here in 1958 where we have been at home ever since. My younger brother Norbert was born here.

Our first home in Kitchener was within walking distance of Victoria Park, and mom took us there often to play. I don’t know if the wading pool that is there now is the same one that we used, but it was great fun. To this very day Park Street goes straight through the Victoria Park, and so at mom’s funeral we decided to route the procession to the church through there.

My mother was a stay-at-home mom. While Dad worked long hours to make ends meet, our mother managed the household and the raising of us 3 not-always-so-good kids mainly by herself. Mom never drove a car, yet she managed the family’s shopping all by herself. She knew the transit system very well, and I’m sure she would be amazed by our soon to launch LRT. When we were old enough, she took us kids along to the market, and we helped carry the goodies home. As a reward we usually received some type of a treat from the bakery.

Our mother was a woman of child-like faith. She taught us to pray even before we started school. A German “Kinderbibel” (Children’s Bible) had stories that she would read to us at night. Discipline was administered swiftly as needed with a wooden spoon. Mom did not believe in “wait until your Dad comes home”. She preferred to solve the problem on the spot!

Mother managed to raise us without the amenities of daycare, nor the other parenting resources available today. With little formal education beyond grade school, and never having studied psychology, she had an unbelievable wisdom, and like all mothers, eyes in the back of her head. You just couldn’t outsmart her even though we tried our best.

As soon as we were old enough, we did the usual things that children do on Mother’s Day. We made or later bought cards, made gifts, bought flowers, made Sunday Afternoon Coffee and Cake on Mother’s Day. Mom accepted all of this graciously, although she drew the line at breakfast in bed. She just didn’t want that and we were never allowed to do that. I also know that she silently wished that all that attention would be spread throughout the year.

Everybody thinks they had the best mom, and we were no different. But we also know that our mother was not perfect. As we work through our grief, those things that were imperfect also surface. I often struggled with why we cannot simply forget those things. But I am comforted, that Mom is now surrounded by the presence of Jesus, because of the same grace that covers my own shortcomings, even when I wasn’t the perfect son.

WHEN CHURCHES BURN DOWN

The fire at the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris France is the news story of the week. I would think that all Christians, whether they be Catholic or Protestant, would be saddened by the destruction of an active place of worship. This one is more than 800 years old. The website of the cathedral says that the building is “above all “the House of God and the abode of men” because this building is full of human and Christian experience. It also is a place of history and culture, and an architectural monument. Personally I have not been to Notre Dame, but I have visited other European cathedrals, and I can say that all of them are places of great beauty. For those of us who are Christian, we marvel that places like that were originally built to the glory of God. Damage or destruction to such a building is without a doubt a great loss. But it is a loss that needs to be seen in perspective.

As usual, the media coverage of an event of this nature is over the top. For days we have heard words like “tragedy”, “mourning”, “sorrow” and the solidarity of Catholics all over the world with vigils and special masses. One newspaper article that I read used the headline of a “global unifier”. Say what?

Yes, I admit it is all very sad. But something that the journalists and other writers don’t mention is the fact that a fire cannot destroy what a church really is. When Jesus said, I will build MY church, and the gates of Hades (hell) will not overcome it (Matthew 16:18), He was not talking about a building of wood, stone, or stained glass”. He was talking about a spiritual entity, comprised of redeemed human beings that lasts eternally. The Bible also uses the term “church” to describe a local assembly of believers, but never in the Bible does the term refer to a building. In fact, the early Christians met for centuries without ever having a building of their own. They met in large assemblies in public places, and in smaller groups in homes, and even in burial places as the catacombs when they needed to be in hiding.

Sometimes people refer to church buildings as “the House of God”, as if to say that God lives there. But Scripture tells us“The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands.” (Acts 17:24) Certainly it is right and proper to construct buildings in which people meet to worship God, but when such buildings are not available, God can still be worshipped.

In fact I am reminded of another church fire in my home town of Kitchener. One day in 1963, as I was walking home from school at lunch time, the sky over Kitchener was black with smoke. When I got home, the radio was playing and mother told us that Benton Street Baptist Church was on fire. As we later found out, a 15 year old arsonist had entered the unlocked church, and lit a curtain which set the church ablaze. He returned to the scene of the fire to watch the church burn and was apprehended there. It turned out that he originally had intended to torch St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church, but painters working inside that church chased him away, so he walked a block to the Baptist church. The building burned to the ground and was a total loss, except for an addition that had been built in the 1950’s that still exists today. The fire was so intense that the fire department had to soak nearby buildings with water to protect them from the shower of sparks as the burning steeple came crashing down.

Did that stop the Benton Street congregation? In those days, the weekly Sunday evening service was broadcast live from the church over a radio station in Kitchener. After the fire (which happened on a Tuesday if I am correct), many people tuned their radios to the station on the following Sunday evening to see if Benton “is still there”. They were not disappointed: the Sunday evening service was on as usual, but the signal was coming from the auditorium of a local High School where the congregation worshipped until the new church was built on the same site as the old. A fire can destroy a building, but not a true church.

Which brings me back to the Notre Dame fire. While the rubble is still cooling off, the President of France declared that the cathedral will be re-built. And lo and behold, all kinds of money is turning up. Led by three of France’s wealthiest families, donations have started to pour in, so far more than 700 million dollars. Well and good some would say, but the question must also be asked, why these donations, which will not impoverish any of the benefactors, come as late as they do. Fine to re-build an historic monument or even a “sacred space” but what about supporting what a church really stands for – the spread of the Gospel, the support of the poor to mention only a few things. While France is predominately Roman Catholic country, only 11% of the people actually attend mass. (Here in Canada, our record is not much better with only 29% of the population attending worship in any church, Protestant or Catholic).

We seem to be more enamoured with beautiful buildings and cultural monuments, than we are devoted to the cause of Christianity that these buildings represent. In both North America and Europe, church buildings are emptying, and when the small congregations that inhabit them can no longer afford their upkeep, the buildings are either demolished or sold and re-purposed.

An example is a Lutheran church in the city of Hamburg in Horn, a working class district of the city. In 2002 the church was “deconsecrated” because only 20 people were in attendance in a space that had room for 500. The building stood vacant for almost 10 years, before a Muslim congregation purchased it. The church is in the process of being converted to a mosque. The outside will remain much the same, but the golden cross atop the steeple has been removed and replaced with Arabic lettering that spells “Allah”.

Suddenly there was an outcry by the public living near the structure. The former pastor of the congregation expressed the grief of people who live there, whose children had been baptized, confirmed, and married in the church. The local branch of the conservative Christian Democratic Union party called for the conversion to be halted. Another local pastor suggested that it would have been better simply to demolish the building. However the man heading up the church to mosque conversion said that the legacy of decline contributed to his ambivalence about moving into the church. “We wish that churches would become more full,” he said. “We don’t want to Islamize or take over churches.”

May those who have ears, hear.

BACK TO WORK

Last week I started a new/old job. Once again (in fact for the sixth time in my life) , I become the pastor of a local church, and last Sunday I preached there, not as a guest speaker, but as their pastor. Next Sunday, Feb 10, I will be officially installed at the Christian Fellowship Church in Waterloo and I will exchange ministry covenants with them.

On July 1, 2016, after 13 years of service in one church, and after over 40 years of pastoral ministry, I began what I thought would be the beginning of the final chapter of my life – the time of blissful retirement. I have to admit that I looked forward to that. I was tired and fully spent, wondering if I had anything left to give. I enjoyed the prospect of being fully in control of my time – doing the things that I enjoy, and not having to do anything that I didn’t. As far as ministry was concerned, I remembered the words of my mentor when I was a student intern, “it takes a lot of grace to begin ministry, and even more grace to know when to quit.” Well I thought that moment had come.

The joy of ministry had never really left me. I was determined to be involved by helping out in some way. I covered for pastors on vacation and took funerals when families who didn’t have a pastor called on me. I volunteered to teach at a Bible School in Kenya for two 3 month terms in 2017 and 2018. Last winter, spring and summer, I preached in a church that didn’t have a pastor. People would say on their way out on Sundays, “could we call you out of retirement?” I remember smiling and saying, “it would take a lot more than your call to get me to quit retirement.” At the time my preparations for the trip to Africa were in full swing, and I was greatly looking forward to my assignment there.

And that is where the journey to the Christian Fellowship Church in Waterloo began. While the months in Kenya were very busy, there was also much quiet time and room for prayer and contemplation. It was there that I faced the question of what I would be doing when I return to Canada. I had to ask myself whether I could justify NOT helping where there is a need that I could meet with the gifts that God has given me, and the health that He so graciously restored to me after last year’s cancer scare. So the dialogue continued and the rest, as they say, is history. The church has graciously consented that I serve them on a three-quarter time basis, a requirement that I requested to help me not to relapse into my workaholic tendencies.

So what about retirement? The traditional age is 65. In certain jobs that age is mandatory and people are forced to retire, even though they are able and willing to continue working. Some face a pressure, that if they continue working, they are somehow taking work away from younger, less fortunate people who don’t have a job. Then again, the financial realities of some make 65 unrealistic. The previous Canadian government had started to push the retirement age to 67, something that the present government reversed.

And then there is the “Freedom 55” movement which refers to people whose ambition is to be financially independent by age 55 so that they can take an early retirement package. While I don’t see anything wrong with that in principle, I have watched all too many people shift their lives, spiritually and otherwise, into neutral when they retire too early. A life of play and pleasure rather than hard work, or perhaps, in the best case scenario, a life of humanitarian service, or work that is a labour of love.

And then we must not forget those who made great contributions to their community and their country at an age where others are traditionally retired. Ronald Reagan, who had a colourful series of careers as an actor, then a motivational speaker and finally politician, including governor of California, was 70 years old when he became President of the United States and he served two terms. Some of Canada’s Prime Ministers were also advanced in age when they were elected to office: John Diefenbaker was 62 when he was first elected in 1957; Lester Pearson was 66 in 1963. Canada’s longest serving Prime Minister, William Lyon MacKenzie King was first elected in 1921 at age 47, and was 74 when he left office in 1948. Winston Churchill began his second term as British Prime Minister in 1951 at the age of 77.

These (and others) have shown that age does not preclude anyone from great accomplishments. As a society that worships those with youthful energy, we need to remember that. Years ago, when as a young man I was installed into one of my pastorates, an older, retired pastor gave a word of greeting. He lamented the fact that seasoned ministers, after decades of gathering experience often are obliged to put down their work at a time when they are more equipped than ever to make meaningful contributions to the work of the church. At the time, I did not think much of his comments, but now, after I am at the approximate age of that pastor, I know what he meant.

By this I do not want to suggest that as an old(er) pastor I have more to offer than someone younger. If someone younger or more qualified were to appear, I would like to think that I would have the grace to step aside. And some day, there will come a time when I will step down, and step aside for good. I’m just not ready to do that yet.