Winter is coming, Part 1

Winter is coming.

Seems kind of redundant to say that now.  There’s snow on the ground, it’s cold and winter appears to be already here.  But wait for January and February, that’s when it’s really winter.  Although, it was pretty mild a few years ago. ‘Course, then there was the winter o’58.  That was a winter.

I’m getting a little off track, but isn’t that how conversations about the weather go? Start a conversation about winter and, before you know it, everybody’s comparing how cold it was that one year or how deep the snow was or this blizzard or that blizzard.  But it always melts, it always warms up, the sun always shines brighter, the days get longer and the spring comes in a few months.

If you’re a fan of Game of Thrones, the books or the television program,  then “Winter is coming” is something a little more.  In fictional Westeros, a winter can last for years (so does summer) and the ancient winter called The Long Night lasted for a generation and brought all sorts of nasty things from the north, including the White Walkers and the wights.  “Winter is coming” is the warning the characters in that story use to remind people of the danger that’s ahead because all that’s coming back.  They need to be ready and they need to be ready to work together.

That’s a key part of where the story is now.  In the midst of all the fighting over who gets to sit on the Iron Throne, they now have this new enemy they need to fight together and getting them to fight together is a challenge.  Especially in a world that seems so relentlessly full of brutality, misery and hurt.

Just to be clear, I was still talking about Game of Thrones.

But I might just as easily have not been.  While I truly believe there is so much more good, happiness and hopefulness in our world than in that fictional one, there are many who’s life experience tells them something different.  And a similarity they might recognize is what a challenge it can be to get people to work together when your winter is a lifetime of hunger, poverty, homelessness, war or oppression.

Sometimes those are global issues.  (Game of Thrones fans: I wonder which world leader is Cerci Lannister and which one’s Jon Snow…)  Sometimes it more regional or local.  But it’s always - always - everyone’s responsibility to work at it together, to offer what gifts and skills we have to help feed the hungry, bring prosperity to the poor, find a home for the homeless, bring peace where there’s conflict and freedom for the oppressed.

“Thoughts and prayers” are always helpful, but they’re not enough.  Action is needed, too, to help bring the spring.  So maybe the question really is “what can I do?” but not with any unrealistic, unreasonable expectation, but rather what gift or skill do I have that I can offer?  Some might have money, but some might simply have time or more practical skills.  In fact, when we work together, the more diverse the community, the stronger the community.

The apostle Paul knew that.  He also knew how hard it was to recognize it and embrace it.  So when he heard that a church he had planted in Corinth was struggling, he wrote to them about how we may each have our own gifts or skills or talents, but they are all from that one spirit that is in all of us.  Embracing each other’s uniqueness unites us, rejecting each other’s differences divides us. In fact, Paul wrote, “to each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.”

It doesn’t matter how long the winter lasts - and, let’s face it, the weather’s gone crazy lately - we can live it together, warmed by the spirit that is in each of us to share.

It's really all about image

Do you think Donald Trump wants peace?

I know it’s hard to tell, sometimes, with all the rhetoric, the bluster, the seeming lack of awareness of consequences, the arrogance, ego and all that other stuff that makes up the Trump persona. But, deep down, do you think he really wants peace?

What about Kim Jong Un?  Or Putin?  al-Assad?  How about that neo-nazi guy who’s speaking at the University of Florida this week?

How about your next door neighbour?

While it may seem like there are people who enjoy, even thrive, on conflict of all kinds, my point is simply this: I think people do want peace, but they want it on their own terms, by their own definition, to their own benefit.  And why wouldn’t we?  We’re human beings, after all, and our tendency is to orient things to ourselves.  We need to be constantly reminding ourselves of our connectedness, our shared responsibility, our shared love.

I think Trump does want peace, as do many of the others and, I hope, your neighbour.  The thing is, I think Trump’s idea of peace is that we will all acknowledge his immense power and huge superiority, do as he commands and behave as he says we should.  If we all just did what he says and were able to meet his expectations, everything would be just fine.  You might see the flaw there.

I wonder if that isn’t a common one, though.  From personal relationships to cultural and national ones, power is what brings the ability to impose “peace” - based on the values of the one with the most power.

But is that true peace or is it simply the forced end to conflict?

Jesus had some thought about that.  I think one of those thoughts is revealed in the story of leaders of the temple trying to trap him with a question about Jews paying taxes to the Romans.  Yes, I know that sounds like a financial issue, but hear me out.  Jesus asks for a Roman coin and questions them on who’s face is on the coin.  When they answer that it’s the emperor’s, he tells them to give the emperor what is the emperor’s and give God what is God’s.  A clever answer because it avoids the obvious trap: if he says yes, he offends his Jewish followers, if he says no, he’s breaking the Roman law.

So, good for Jesus for being clever, but is that really an answer?  If God is the one true God, the creator, the giver of life and all things, then the right answer is surely that all things belong to God.  That’s what Jesus teaches, but it’s not what he says here.  So why didn’t he?

I wonder if the real meaning of this story isn’t exactly that, to point out that we think and value in a worldly way.  The answer that impressed the pharisees in the story - those that opposed Jesus - was in those terms.  The coin is important, not because of it’s monetary value, but precisely because the emperor’s image is on it.  It represents power, very earthly, very concrete power, the power of the empire that rules their land.  We might want to remind ourselves that way back in the beginning of Genesis, our creation narrative says we are created in the image of God.  Which of those images should be most important to us?

Maybe we should look at peace the same way.  We “make peace” with earthly power and priorities when we are called, in the image of God, to make peace as Jesus did, with an open heart, and open mind, a willingness to know more about each other and a willingness to build real relationships, not break them down.  Peace isn’t imposed, it’s built and it’s shared together.  That starts with each of us.  Like the classic song says: “Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.”

Are you ready to party?

$1.90 US.

That’s about $2.35-2.40 Canadian, depending on the day.

I came across this number in the news last week.  It was in a story about Madagascar and the latest outbreak of plague there.  Yes, plague.  As in The Black Death from the Middle Ages.  Turns out it’s still around.  The World Health Organization estimates there’s 1,000-2,000 cases per year around the world. 

Madagascar accounted for 82% of the deaths from plague worldwide between 2010 and 2015.  The October 5 CBC News article said that “the WHO calls the plague a disease of poverty because it thrives in places with unsanitary conditions and inadequate health care. Madagascar is one of the poorest countries in the world. UNICEF estimates around 82 per cent of the population of 25 million lives below the international poverty line, meaning they live on less than $1.90 US a day.”

$1.90 US a day.

That started me reading more about poverty and there’s a lot to read about poverty.  There’s different definitions and measures, absolute and relative poverty, debates about the impossibility of setting a single standard when economies are so diverse.  Criticism, too, of this arbitrary $1.90 US set by the World Bank.  Their figure is based on the poverty lines of the 15 poorest countries of the world and reflects the minimum income necessary to purchase essential resources (averaged over a year) for an adult in those economies.  And they’re applying it globally.  That means that they’re applying $1.90 US to countries where the economy is strong enough for it to be higher - much higher - and then compiling statistics on poverty that look better than they ought and using those as the basis for programs and aid.

(In Canada, by the way, we don’t have an “official” poverty line because, like most developed nations, no one can really agree on a specific definition and terms.  There’s Low Income Measure, Low Income Cut Off and Market Based Measure for starters, though LIM is the one most used for international comparisons because it’s based on the line being 50% of the median income of the country.)

This is a huge and complex issue - and I haven’t even mentioned child poverty.  I’m not an economist, I couldn’t cover it all if I wanted to, I don’t have room here anyway, but I brought it up for a specific reason.  Please learn more about poverty, both locally and around the world, and what you can do to help.  And then please help. 

I bring it up because I want you to recognize that $1.90 US, like much of how we, in wealthier countries, handle poverty, is based on providing the bare minimum to keep someone alive.  It doesn’t give them a life.

I bring it up because being poor isn’t just a numbers game, especially when those numbers are often determined by people who’ve never experienced poverty.

I bring it up because October 16 is World Food Day and so many people are hungry. I bring it up because October 17 is the UN’s International Day for the Eradication of Poverty and so many people are poor. 

I bring it up because there’s this weird and quirky story that Jesus tells in Matthew’s gospel about a wedding feast.  A king invites his neighbours to a wedding feast for his son.  They ignore the invitation, so he sends messengers a second time and this time they kill the messengers and outright refuse.  In response, the king sends his armies, kills them and destroys their cities.  He then sends his servants into the streets to invite anyone to come.  They do, and all is going well until the king sees someone who’s not properly dressed for a wedding.  He orders him thrown out and pronounces “many are called but few are chosen.”

Alright, that’s a little unsettling.  But it’s meant to be.  This is the third parable Jesus tells about the kingdom of heaven and I think what this one might say to us is that God calls to everyone and we all answer differently.  Not everyone hears, some hear and don’t want to follow, and for those that do, the kingdom of heaven is like a great feast.

But.  This isn’t just about hearing and following, it’s about transformation, it’s about participation, it’s about being “all in.”  In the story, it’s not enough to just show up, you need to party.  Why? Because God doesn’t just want us to know the kingdom of heaven, but to take part in it; Jesus doesn’t just want us to know that we are loved, he wants us to love; the Spirit doesn’t just warm our hearts, it empowers us to action.  This is about doing what we say and acting on what we believe.

I bring it up, because we can, and should, do more than offer the bare minimum.  We can do more than a $1.90 US per day.  

Thinking about being thankful

Perhaps we should be more specific.  Or absolutely not.  I’m not sure.

As a holiday, Thanksgiving is a harvest based festival celebrated in Canada, the US and some countries and territories influenced by their North American connection.  There are similar harvest based festivals in the UK, Japan and Germany.  Although, let’s face it, in Germany, Erntedankefest is probably not as well known, internationally, as Oktoberfest.

But more recently, we’ve broadened the scope of Thanksgiving to include all the things for which we’re thankful.  And I don’t argue against that, it’s just that I hope, first of all, that being thankful for harvest is at least a season (like harvest is), not just a one-day-and-we’re-done-with-it kind of event.  We should take a moment to be thankful for all the earth provides and the hard working people who bring it to our tables.  And second, that being thankful for anything else isn’t like that, either.  Just because there’s one day called Thanksgiving shouldn’t mean we’re not thankful every day, anymore than celebrating the day of our birth means we’re not happy to be alive every other day.  The best thanks is lived out, anyway, and we can do that every day.

So please take a moment or two to think about all the things you’re thankful for.  I bet there’s lots.  And you could think of more, if you tried.  The thing is, we often don’t, but we also shouldn’t have to try so hard.  Not because our lives are perfect, full and idyllic, but because we so easily let the imperfections of our lives overwhelm the good things.  And even then, we can so easily lose our sense of what we should be thankful for in comparing what we have to others.  More and better seem to be how we measure, rather than need and enough.

That’s tricky, because what we’re thankful for is closely tied to our relationships with other people and with the world around us.  It can become all too easy to say “I’ve prospered all by myself and I, alone, made everything I have.”  But that’s simply not true.  We need creation to feed our bodies and each other to feed our hearts and minds.  Creation can nourish our minds, too, and inspire us.  The point is, it’s never just “me” or “you” when it comes to thanksgiving, it’s “us.”

And that’s where I say, “thank you, God.”  Use what language you like, but thank God, that love, that spirit, that connectedness, that energy, that higher power, that thing that lives in us and binds us with each other and creation.

I think that’s what Moses was really saying to the Israelites before they crossed over from the wilderness into “the promised land.”  We’ll hear some of the book of Deuteronomy in our church on Thanksgiving, and in it, Moses tells the people there will be much to be thankful for in the new land.  But remember, first, where you came from.  There was a point to that time in the wilderness after being freed from slavery in Egypt.  It was a time struggling and learning to be a free people, learning how to live well together, to respect each other and the world, learning what’s really important about life.  More and better stuff doesn’t make you “more,” or “better.”  Be sure to live as thankfully with each other in prosperity as in the wilderness.

And remember you didn’t get here alone, says Moses, you did it together with God.  Freed, nourished, taught wisdom, grace and love.  Not always perfect, but lives filled with things to be thankful for, in the wilderness and in the promised land.  Thank you, God.

Break out the love

Yes, there is God.

I’ve said this before, I’m sure, because it’s what I believe.  You are welcome to your own belief and if I can help to encourage you, reassure you, engage you and help you grow in your belief or understanding of God, I would.  And if you think you don’t believe in God, I’d be happy to discuss it, because I think we’d probably still find some common ground.

That’s not to say that I don’t have questions - a lot of questions - and moments of doubt.  I’m human.  Don’t you doubt, sometimes?

It’s easy to say God is with us when things are going well, when we feel like we’re on the winning side or life is generally good.  But when they’re not, doubt creeps in.  And when things continue that way, when there seems to be no discernible response to our needs, the doubt can become full on angry denial.

Why did God let that happen?  Why didn’t God do something?

And some of those things are huge and life changing, even life ending.  Sometimes they’re just unmet wants and desires.  But each time, we want to cry out to the God somewhere out there who just isn’t here right now meeting our need.  We want to rail against the God who seems to stand back and let things happen when God could easily step in and change it, and make it better.  For us.  Why isn’t God here doing what needs to be done?  Is God among us or not?

That was the Israelites’ question.  The book of Exodus records God sending Moses to free the Israelites from slavery in Egypt.  The Pharaoh won’t let them go, so there are nine plagues, culminating in the death of all the first born Egyptian children.  That was the price God paid to free them.  After they leave, the Egyptians chase after them, catching up to them at the Reed Sea.  The Israelites complain that they were freed only to be killed in the wilderness, but, through Moses, God parts the sea so they can pass through to the other side and then closes the waters back on the Egyptian army.  Now the are hungry, but God feeds them.  Now they are thirsty and God gives them water.  And now, angry and frustrated, the Israelites fighting with Moses and God, cry out “is God among us or not?” (Ex. 17:7)

Thank goodness they weren’t angry with you or me.  We would probably have replied with something like “what?!?!  After all I’ve done for you?” and stomped off, never willing to help them again.

But it’s God.  God’s reply to the their angry doubt isn’t anger or hurt in return, it’s water.  Generous, life-giving water.  From a rock.  That’s what happens in this moment in the story, but wonder for a minute about what’s happening in the big picture.  Hardened by years of slavery and bitterness, the people will find new life within, and between, themselves in the freedom they will learn to know in the wilderness.  This, to me, is God teaching the people that God isn’t some power “out there” that controls things, but something that’s within each of us, something we share with each other.  Like water.

God isn’t some external force that dominates or controls things.  God is in each of us, in all living things, that we share with each other.  Or we don’t - we have free will.  Much later Jesus will call us to love like this, to be life-giving and nourishing.  Like water.  The stone that needs to be cracked open isn’t God, it’s us.

Here's something to chew on

I’m eating cheezies while I write this.  The good ones.  You know, those ones made in Belleville, Ontario.  I’m pretty sure they’re good for you.  They’re crunchy and they’re orange.  I like that.

That’s important to me, because I’m a very discerning eater.  Some people might say I’m fussy or “a picky eater,” but I prefer to think discerning.  I have good reasons for the few - okay, many - things I don’t care to eat.  Like raisins, for example.  They’re just grapes that somebody belittled until they shrivelled up from a lack of self-confidence.  I also don’t like beets.  I don’t mind the greens, but beets are just like a turnip somebody beat up (yes, I went there) until it bled.  Then there’s cauliflower.  Just really pale broccoli that failed at being green.  And don’t even start me on pickling things.  We only really needed to pickle things before we had refrigeration.  We have ‘fridges now, people, you can stop pickling.  There’s more, much more, but I’ll stop there.

See, discerning.  It is just possible that my criteria for being discerning might not include things like nutrition or good health, but I am discerning.

And that’s a little bit of a problem for all of us.  Sure, some people are conscientious about being healthy and taking care of themselves.  But lots of people will eat pretty much anything.  Others are fussy and not always for good reason.  Others would be happy to subsist on a steady diet of junk food.

We don’t just do that with our bodies, either.  Take a moment and think about some of the things we put in our minds.  Or our hearts.

Some people will gobble up just about anything if they’re hungry enough.

Here comes a really big pivot, but this is where my very discerning mind is this week.

Like the Israelites in the wilderness.  Yes, that’s what brought me to this, the Exodus story.  Moses has led them out of Egypt, they’ve crossed the sea and they’re on their own in the wilderness with no one chasing them.  They are their own people, free and clear of oppression and now they’re hungry.  So they complain to Moses and God feeds them with manna from heaven.  Wait, though, there’s more than manna.  In Exodus 16, it says that there’s quail in the evening and manna - bread from heaven - in the morning.  Later, we’ll hear that they ate manna for “forty years.”  Wow.  That’s some diet.

Or maybe it isn’t.  Maybe it’s a metaphor for how God provides them with something nutritious, something that feeds their bodies, their minds and their souls: a journey together in the wilderness, a journey of discovery about how to live together, a journey of building a sense of self-worth and a sense of community.

I know it seems like the Israelites just up and ate what ever was on the ground.  And maybe they were desperate.  Starving people reach for just about anything at first.  But when the manna appears, their very first question was “what is this?”  What it was, was something new.  Something to feed and nourish them. There were many new things on this journey that fed and nourished the people.  The observance of sabbath, the Ten Commandments that are fundamental guides to how we live together, the covenant, the tabernacle and more - years of instruction, experiences, maturing and growing into a community.  Sure, later they might give into the junk food or just what they like for awhile, but there will be prophets and, much later, Jesus to help them get back to something more nutritious, more fulfilling and more wholesome.

Maybe that’s the thing about being discerning.  Look first for that which makes you healthy, well and whole.

Looking past the special effects

I made it rain this week. So, if you’re a farmer that was in the middle of harvest and I screwed that up, I’m sorry. On the other hand, if you were hoping for rain, you’re welcome.

Unfortunately, I’m not able to make it rain were it most needs to, nor can I stop it raining in places where there’s too much - it’s pretty much a localized thing, over our house and the general area around it.

See, we decided to re-shingle the roof.  They delivered the shingles one night and then, on Friday, someone called to say that they were delayed on another job.  If we wanted, they’d come Saturday, but would Monday be okay? Of course, I said, sure, come Monday. It started to rain on Monday.

So, obviously, I made it rain. And now that I’m talking about it, it’ll probably rain next week, too. Again, you’re welcome.  Or, sorry.

I hope that all sounded ridiculous from the first sentence. I can’t affect the weather that way. I think we all, collectively, do affect the weather, just as we affect the planet, but I can’t just will it to happen. 

God doesn’t, either.  It’s a mystery to me how some people still talk about how God sends hurricanes, floods, droughts, earthquakes and the like to punish us for something.  Or rather, to punish us for “what those people do.” And you can pretty much insert anybody as “those people” who don’t fit into or agree with what the person making the claim believes to be right. That’s a God to be feared, for sure.

That’s not the God I believe in. Oh, I’m in awe of God, alright, I wonder and I’m amazed by God, but it’s the love, the grace, the life-giving fearless hope that I hold on to. I see that God in the world all around, but I just don’t see a vengeful, punishing God who wields creation as a weapon.

But maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Look at some of the stories in the bible where God does just that. The Exodus story, for example, is full of moments worthy of Hollywood special effects: a burning bush, plagues, pillars of fire and wind and more. Awe-inspiring moments, to be sure, but I wonder how often we get so caught up in that kind of “power” that we miss the true point of the story.

Look at the Israelites escape from Egypt. Pharaoh finally relents after all those plagues and releases the Israelites from their slavery only to then pursue them to the edge of the sea. God holds them back with a pillar of cloud and fire while the Israelites wonder what they can do: their enemies on one side and an unpassable sea on the other. There’s no way out.

But then there is, because God opens the sea for them to walk through to other side and then closes the sea on the Egyptians and drowns them all. “Behold his mighty hand,” says Charlton Heston’s Moses in the epic film ‘The Ten Commandments,’ as he parts the sea in an iconic pre-CGI moment on film.

Except Moses doesn’t say that in the bible story. And that’s just my point: the special effects have become more important than the point of the story itself. The power of God’s hand becomes greater than the love of God’s heart.

Strip away the special effects for a moment. Then this becomes a simple story of deliverance, perhaps. In a moment where there appears to be no way forward, God provides one. It’s a story of oppression being defeated and freedom being gained. It’s a story in which following God’s way (remember the love, grace and hope?) leads to new life and domination, self importance and arrogance leads to death. It’s finding a way forward in hope into opportunity.

These same people then spent a biblical forty years learning how to be “a people,” and there’s a load more “special effects” to help them on their way. But learning to live together, to care for each other, to believe in each other, to build relationships and be the people God intended takes time, and that’s the point.  We’re still learning.

Maybe that’s a take away from this story for us. There’s always a way forward, a way that leads to life. That way isn’t about power or “fire and fury,” it’s about hope and creating the opportunity to build relationships, to engage each other respectfully and compassionately.