First Sunday of Advent - Hope

 "Faith is confidence in what we hope for

and assurance about what we do not see."

Hebrews 11:1

"The world is indeed full of peril, 

and in it there are many dark places;

but still there is much that is fair,

and though in all land love is now mingled with grief,

it grows perhaps the greater."

Tolkien

"A thrill of HOPE,

the weary world rejoices."

From "O Holy Night"

"May the God of hope fill you

with all joy and peace

as you trust in Him,

so that you may overflow with hope

by the power of the Holy Spirit."

Romans 15:13

There are far, far better things ahead

than any we leave behind.

C. S. Lewis

Winterflex

Photo from December 2024, 

my sister-in-law's fancy downspout, 

all frozen and pretty.

Looking out the window this morning and wondering just how much blow and snow we're in for this weekend.  

I know there's a fair bit of cynicism these days towards the forecasters, especially when they start putting out any numbers above 20 cm.  Most of us go on the 'believe it when I see it' track, since there's been lots of times when we thought something big was on the way and it just didn't pan out to be any kind of dealio at all.  [Note: This is especially disappointing to certain of my grandchildren who relish a snow day.]

Still.  There seems to be a high level of confidence that what's upon us now will be a multi-day event.  That, and other factors I can't pretend to understand but the science sounds reasonable, do give me pause here on the threshold of what was supposed to be a rather full weekend.  Perhaps plans are changing.

Now, if all it meant was I just had to stay home, you wouldn't hear any complaints from me.  Hunkering down in bad weather, especially winter's bad weather, is all kinds of cozy in my books.  Add a Christmas tree and other seasonal ambiance, and I'm all good.  I'll stay in, all safe and contented-like.  No problem.

But this particular snow event is coming on a weekend where people I care about have a long drive that will take them smack through the middle of the weather map's darkest colours.  And it involves a new baby celebration.  And it includes a gathering of like-minded folks seeking to encourage and learn from one another.  And it will likely affect Sunday's worship service.  And all the snow contingencies - let's call that winterflexing - and readjustments and rejigging will cost me something, take time, and require the kind of discerning decisions where people often feel differently about things so you jus can't win.  

Most of the time, it's not so simple just to cancel stuff.

I wonder though, if being Canadian and having learned to live and plan and work around the weather, especially in winter, isn't something of an advantage when navigating other kinds of storms.  It seems there could be transferrable skills that might aid in coping with other sorts of course-changing life events that require a similar kind of winterflex.  Times when you thought you have something all nicely laid out on the calendar or in the strategic plan, so to say, but it ended up the highway was closed due to zero visibility.  Times when you had to make all the phone calls, and rebook all the meetings, and rearrange all the expectations.  Times when you just have to unexpectedly hunker down for a bit until the storm runs its course and the way is clear again.

And I also wonder, if the journey of "being formed into the likeness of Christ for the sake of others" (M. Robert Mulholland Jr.), and having learned from the repeated experience of how God's plans and purposes prevail, doesn't also provide something of an advantage when faced with the need to winterflex my life.  Doesn't means I don't chafe at it still.  When the plans being adjusted present instead frightening prospects, or painful realities, or deep loss, it's not so simple just to cancel stuff.  I know.

So here's to all who are thinking things through differently right now, not just because of winter's first wallop, but maybe because life just threw you a curve ball.  And maybe we could all just be a good gift to each other by winterflexing together, offering support and practical help, being chill about any changed plans, and just staying home safe and content if that's truly the best we can do.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

“As an ethnic minority, Jesus didn’t simply care about people who were victims of Rome-sanctioned violence, he was a victim of Rome-sanctioned violence. Jesus didn’t simply care about refugees, Jesus was a refugee. Jesus didn’t simply care about the poor, he was poor.”

Christena Cleaveland

I thought I'd be happier to find my long lost Nativity set.  

I was at first.  When I glimpsed the box with the hand-written label, I said it out loud with decided glee.  "There you are!"  Somehow, even before the move, this small but central piece of our Christmas decor had been hidden away for what seemed like a long, long time.  And then, in all the shuffling of storage options between our initial clearing out of the house (starting with the Christmas bins) and now, when it didn't turn up at all, I guess I sort of expected it was gone for good.

But Sunday afternoon I spotted it, not even in all that hidden of a place, pulled it out, and opened it up.  

Yay!---Oh.

Okay.

I immediately realized how differently I have been reflecting on the Holy Family in these latter years of my life because...this particular Nativity?  It's really....white.

In my defense, this is probably 45 years old by now.  I remember purchasing it, piece by piece, as part of a cosmetic company's sales incentive, back when these characters were quite popular.  Especially in Christian circles, appearing on plaques and cutting boards, often alongside inspirational quotes, and also showing up as figurines, for example, in a Nativity set.  

I'll be honest and say that I liked it well enough back then.  And now I'm remembering that, when the children came along, we swapped this out for a kid-friendly play set, to encourage a more hands-on kind of Christmas.  That's probably when this got put away somewhere.  For a long time.

And in the meanwhile, my own Advent reflections have morphed significantly.  Particularly around the realities of Jesus' human ethnicity, and the fact that, for the first years of His life on earth, He lived as a displaced refugee.  

So this 'very sweet' representation of Jesus' birth isn't going to cut it for me any more.  Not because I want to be perfectionistic or pedantic.  But because there's something deeply theological about understanding the cosmic reset brought to light in the details of the Incarnation, and a blonde-white, porcelain Jesus is the farthest thing from it.  

As Cleaveland articulates above, He on purpose put on the skin and status of the ones He came to restore.  He avoided power and prestige, and put on poverty.  Totally counterintuitive.  Completely upside down.  Like a gigantic cosmic reset.

It seems all the more important this Christmas to remember it.  And while I tend to leave media and news and politics alone in my on line reflections, I will say that it has been very difficult this past year, as a follower of Jesus, to see Christianity attached to policy and procedure that is decidedly unlike Jesus.  

I guess it can be glad that it gives us the chance to take another look at what we've once again allowed to become distorted.  Maybe it will force us to get back to some of the gritty details of our faith, and bring out of the storage bins that which we've turned it into instead, dust it off and set it up and see if it still holds true.

I'm leaving this out for now.  But I do intend to visit the Thrift Shops over the holidays to see if I can find something more authentic.  Yes, I know there are lovely, more realistic renditions on line.  But the irony is that my commitment to the real story of simplicity and poverty makes me all the more determined not to spend the money on such things.  

Especially these such things.

And for what it's worth:

Here's a little musical reflection from Steve Bell called Refugee (from his album "Keening for the Dawn") that helps keep me oriented, especially these days.

Advent is upon us.  

Press in.

 

Body, Mind and Soul: Return Part 3 - Soul

That's the order I come back.  Like that.  Body, mind and soul.

Day 5.

I am finding the happy task of decorating for Christmas to be particularly soulish this year.

Mostly I think this is because I had to skip a season last December when we were still in transition between homes.  It was truly cozy and amazing to have a warm bed and a few familiar Christmas reminders placed gently in the room our son David so beautifully provided for us then.  And...the majority of what counts as Christmas decor, and all that such things represent in terms of provoking tradition and liturgy, was all packed away and lonely in the most bottom corners of the storage unit we had to rent for the duration.  

This year, this first week back, I have been finding such quiet joy in opening boxes, holding up treasured items, and deciding where best they might be placed to enhance our Advent meditations.  And having the opportunity to do this while still reorienting and processing and coaxing my soul back to this side of the planet has somehow added to the hush of it.

I decorate early.  Well, depending on whom you ask.  But early enough.  I am not trying to rush Christmas or push a consumeristic agenda, not at all.  Instead, I find that if I can set up the environment of beautiful, holy waiting sooner than later, I can lessen the stress that inevitably sneaks up on me as the season becomes more robust.  

O Come, O Come Emmanuel.  Come, soul of mine, and be fully here for it.  At least, as fully as I can ever be, living between two loves like I do.  Which is ironic, because...  I wonder if that's how Jesus felt?  Between two worlds like this.

The Christmas decorating isn't quite done yet.  Today I hope to finish.  There does come a time, after all, when all the disruption of the boxes everywhere isn't exciting any more and you just want to clear it away and put on the kettle, and light a candle, and eat Christmas crackle ice cream, and watch the Muppets Christmas Carol.  

It's been a very good first week back.  Yes.  In spite of a heavier dose of jet lag than usual, likely because I couldn't sleep much on the plane on the ride home, or because I also caught a little cold somewhere along the way.  Yes, it's been a very lovely first week back, between two loves, between two homes.  

Grateful.

 

Body, Mind and Soul: Return Part 2 - Mind

Not sure if I can say my mind has arrived yet or not.

It's that whole thing that I come back in three parts, body, mind and soul, and in that order.  My body arrived Saturday night (November 15), but the rest of me...

I waited until today, approaching 72 hours in this time zone, to see if I could claim any measure of mental acuity at this point.  But it's dubious.  On the one hand, today I was able to do some decent work on the Advent sermon I am excited to preach at Highview on December 7th, feeling well within my preferred prep time frames, and invigorated by the study of it.

But just as I was feeling all good about that, someone had to inform me that I was double booking some meetings for the first week in December, something I was all glad to be proactive about yesterday, but clearly not thinking straight enough to do such complicated scheduling maneuvers as that.  Fortunately for me, and everyone else involved, the one who let me know is on both lists for both meetings, so they noticed.  Otherwise I might have been swept into that wretched vortex of sending out all the extra emails that end up causing more confusion than clarity...which, come to think of it, might be happening anyways.  I don't know.  I'll check my inbox when I'm done here.  

It's like that though.  Waking up and thinking about the thing you need to do to get ready for evening worship Bible Lessons, then realizing you're already home.  Sitting down at the computer first thing in the morning when usually you're all alert and productive, only to find you are deft of any ability to concentrate whatsoever, and have to do that mindless bit of unpacking and sorting instead.  Realizing all the exciting things you wrote down on your list for this week while still on the plane ride home will indeed need to submit to the reminder at the top that says, "JET LAG WEEK - GO EASY."  The spirit is more than willing but the brain cells are pooched.  

So while I wait for my mind to get all the way back, I'll sit in this in between space grateful for all I am blessed with, go for a walk, clean up the fall stuff from the porch and back fence, and see if I can get Ken to bring up some Christmas stuff from the crawl space.  I'm excited for that too.  First time decorating our new little house for Christmas!!!!!  We'll have to take it in stages, though.  Ken's (rightfully) nervous that I'll get all the boxes opened and spread out, then hit a wall and have to leave a mess.  And not just for one day.   He's not wrong to be worried about that.  Because that's exactly how it can go.

I'll take pictures.  Not of the mess.  But when it's done.  

And maybe, by then, I'll be able to tell how I'm feeling.

 

Body, Mind and Soul: Return Part 1 - Body

Sunrise at Hot Springs

Physically, I am back in Canada.  I think.  Can't be sure because, in reality, my mind is lagging by at least three days, and I won't know much for sure until it arrives.  My soul, well...that will take a bit longer.

It always happens this way, and I'm okay with that by now.  I think.  I'm not sure actually, since my mind and my soul...wait, I already said that.

Right at the moment what I do know is that our whole Team is very grateful for all the prayers for a 'boring' trip, both there and back.  All our transfers, and even the coordinated pick ups at the airport by three different drivers, went very smoothly.  All our luggage arrived with us.  And we all got to our respective beds and had a decent sleep last night.

Goodbye at Chiang Mai airport

I have already emptied both suitcases, although there is a lot of sorting still to do to make the Sponsors and Supporters packets ready.  Still to do is map out my list for the week, with the realistic-expectations reminder note, "JET LAG WEEK - GO EASY," written in all caps just like that across the top, as a reminder.

Physically, I must say, at the risk of repeating myself but I don't care, how incredibly grateful I am for how well I feel, for the totally-free-from-any-diverticulitis-symptoms healing, plus the back-to-normal energy levels I have experienced throughout this whole trip.  Honestly, answered prayer in spades, and again, thanks to all those who so beautifully and supportive interceded for me in this regard.  

So, this morning.  I'm back.  My body is at least.  And I am so looking forward to worshiping at Highview this morning.  

Sorry to Sponsors and Supporters though.  Your packets will have to wait until next week.  Only got back to the house at 10:30 p.m. last night.  But...when you see all the treasures your kids have created for you...it will be worth the wait.  

Led by Love

"Become the kind of leader that people

would follow voluntarily,

even if you had no title or position."

Brian Tracy

I realized the other day that it's been a full twenty years, as of October 31st to be precise, that I stepped into a new intensity of leadership.  

I guess it could be said that I've been leading things since I was 16, when I took on my first Sunday School class.  I've had lots of opportunities given me as I moved into my twenties, and on into other adult roles, where it was my job to organize and inspire a group of folks to get something done.  I was intentionally mentored in these various roles, and am eternally grateful for all that has been poured into me, especially the "risks" taken by the men who were at the time my only role models at a time when cross gender mentoring was frowned upon.  Thank you, all of you.

So, leadership, doing it well, thinking it through, living it out had been part of my experience for decades already.

But it wasn't until I was asked to accept a solo pastor role, something I actually had never aspired to by the way, that I felt the full weight of leadership press upon my spirit.  During that time I read all the books, went to all the seminars, watched all the You Tube videos, took all the courses.  I needed and wanted to learn how to be the best leader I could possibly be, and applied all the energy of my Type A perfectionist temperament, and my at-the-time raging insecurities to the task.

Not long into that era of my life, only three years later, the Lord, by His great grace and lavish love, allowed me the unbelievable honour of partnering with two of His servants half way around the world, who would ultimately shape my leadership in ways nothing from my own culture could.

In fact, it was being upended and disoriented by culture shock in those first few visits to Hot Springs that forced me to learn leadership all over again.  But now/again, from the perspective of the learner, the follower.  I was in 'totally-other' territory, completely incapacitated by a language and customs I didn't understand.  And it was the best thing to ever happen to me.  If for no other reason than it soon crucified any notions that I was there to messiah anything.  There's something about having your heart dismantled that knocks the better part of any white saviour complex right out of you.  (I say 'the better part' because that insidious stuff tends to cling inside a soul, requiring frequent visits to the humility department, just saying.)

2008

I have learned so much about leadership by observing, following, listening to, imitating two of the most spectacular human beings ever placed on the planet:  Ajahn Suradet and Ajahn Yupa.   These are their formal titles, and I use them with respect.  But the truth is, I would gladly follow their lead voluntarily, not because of titles, or dynamic personalities, or impressive curriculum vitae, but just because of who they are and how they love.

A lot of western leadership books don't usually talk about love.  It can be more about strategy, and making hard decisions, and gathering the 'right' people around you, and being tough. and 'having what it takes' (whatever that means).  And most of that, yes, are bits of it.  (Some of the literature now, the understanding of it now, is indeed leaning more the the 'soft skills' of leadership.  And yay for that.)

But if you don't love the people God's given you to lead, then, really, what are you?  A boss maybe.  A manager maybe.  A chief or senior something maybe.  Maybe even a teacher, which is fine.  But a leader?

Here, I have been loved well and then, by default, led well.   And, in turn, I have sought to be ever increasing in my capacity to love, and let the Spirit lay down whatever leadership comes from that.  I can only hope it's made a difference somewhere to someone.

And this is how I've been led by love.  This is what I have been given as a by product of the astounding partnership God has forged here.  I am not, and will never be the same.  

 =====

I make no apology for gushing sentiments.  It would be utterly wrong for me not to acknowledge this great debt of gratitude I will never be able to repay.

Forming a Theology of Care

"Look at the birds of the air;

they do not sow or reap or stow away in barns,

and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them.

Are you not much more valuable than they?"

Matthew 6:26

Our little Da is small and spunky.  Even though she speaks in the typical soft volume of many Thai girls, she's actually not afraid to ask questions, let you know what she's thinking, and even advocate for herself when need be.  (Way to go, girlfriend!)

She and I have had many lovely little conversations, and she's ever so patient when I have to ask her to speak a little slowly, which is often because she's in a hurry to tell me 'all the things' much of the time.

On Friday of last week, she had a mishap at school when a chair came down on her foot.  This required a quick trip to the hospital for x-rays.  No broken bones, but some significant bruising and some bandaging for an abrasion.  She limped fairly obviously over the weekend, even with the pain relief the doctor prescribed.

But last night, while we were returning from evening worship, she wanted to hold my hand coming up the walk.  And while we walked she told me, "Ahjahn Ruth.  My foot has no more pain."  And then added simply,  "God has helped me."

Pause.

I know it is important to guard against confusing magical thinking with what we believe and teach about how God interacts with us.  A theology that is faithful to the whole of Scripture will honestly understand that God does not always behave in the way we might want Him to.  He is not manipulated by us.  He is God, we are not.  And sometimes, when we ask for healing, just as an example, He has other plans.

And.

On Friday, the day the accident happened, at evening worship we prayed for Da's foot to soon be pain free.  

For this little one in particular, who has seen violent things no child, no person of any age for that matter, should have seen, who has known trauma and terror and abandonment...for this child to begin to understand that there is indeed a loving Father Who is interested in the details of her life, Who cares when her foot hurts, and Who can and does intervene on her behalf....for her to be starting her own formation of a theology of His care for her....well....it doesn't get much better than this.

We can't begin to imagine the depth of healing our children here require.  And none us, humanly, can make it happen.  But we can provide an environment of safety and love and joy and hope.  And hold little hands and listen to little voices beginning their own spiritual journeys into stronger, more beautiful futures.  And allow the Spirit to work miracles in deep places.

Have I mentioned lately that I am astonished beyond anything I could have ever imagined for myself, just to be here, doing this?