Just a scratch behind the ear

We have a new puppy in our lives.  He’s a merle coloured chihuahua named Yoda.  We named him that in the hopes that he would be a small wise man with big ears.  You know, just like Yoda.

He’s not, of course.  Not yet, anyway.  Right now he’s a five month old puppy, so a whole lot of training has been happening at our house.  And here’s a few things he’s taught us: if you put it near me, I will chew it; I like to eat anything that’s on the ground - anything - but I’ll be a little fussy about when, or if, I’ll eat what’s in my bowl; the living room rug is a good place to do my business; I have no intention of doing as you say and, by the way - catch me; you better keep your eyes on the ground, cause I go where I want; I love my mommy and will cuddle and sleep in her lap, but that guy’s only good for being a bigger chew toy.

We’re learning, but I’m pretty sure he thinks we could do better.

Of course, I think he could do better.  He can be uncooperative, frustrating, time consuming, needy and annoying.  And super cute.  And friendly and fun and loving.  And did I mention super cute?  One minute he’ll be a rotten little so-and-so and the next minute he’ll be licking your hand and curl up next to you the couch.

He’s like a three year old boy.  Or a thirty year old.  Or a fifty year old.

Yeah, that’s where I’m going with this.  If you have a pet or a farm animal, you likely know that you can’t just expect them to be and do exactly what you want all the time.  Sooner or later there are moments when those creatures can behave in a way that's more than a little trying.  Then, a short while later, you'll be giving them an affectionate little scratch behind the ear and a smile like everything's fine and all is forgiven.

Wouldn't it be great if we could learn to give that much grace to people?  Wouldn't it be great if, the next time you saw someone on the street that you didn't like much or that you'd been having a disagreement with, wouldn't it be great if you just walked up to them and gave them a little scratch behind the ear.  Metaphorically, of course.

I know, you want to say "but it's not that simple for us.  We're much more complicated and sophisticated than animals."  Sure we are.  Mostly.  But why can't we be that simple - not simplistic - just simple?  Why can’t we be that childlike - not childish - about it?  That's the kind of simple grace God has for us.  And the kind of grace God would like us to have for each other, for all creatures and for the earth itself.

For the past few years, we’ve celebrated the last Sunday of September with a Blessing of the Animals at the Ag Grounds.  We’ve had many dogs and cats, kittens and puppies, a goat, a bearded dragon, chickens and bunnies.  We’d love to have horses, sheep, cattle and pretty much anyone.  Yoda will be there for the first time, sharing in the blessing that we are all a part of.

God's blessing rests on all creation.  Sharing that sense of blessing with each other, the other creatures who share this earth, and the earth itself, connects us.  “The earth does not belong to us, we belong to the earth.  All things are connected like the blood that unites us all.  We do not weave this web of life.  We are merely a strand of it.  Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves."  (Attributed to Chief Seattle, 1854.)

What do you see in a rainbow?

Our church has a rainbow.  Actually, now that I think about it, it has several.  But this new one’s a little different in scope.  It covers the entire walkway from the sidewalk to the front door.

Photo by Kerri Aucoin

It’s been an interesting couple of days painting it.  We made no announcement that we were doing it.  The church Board approved it and then we just did it.  Surprise.

People going by while it was being painted seemed quite happy with it.  Lots of smiles and compliments on how it looks and, interestingly, only an occasional “why?”  Or “what’s it for?”

I know that we did it as a statement about welcome.  Last June, the congregation voted to participate in the United Church’s Affirming Program, an educational and discernment process that reflects on what it means to be inclusive and evaluates our congregation’s openness to including all in the life and work of our ministry.  That’s ALL, including age, gender, race, ability, class, economic status and, in particular to the Affirming Ministry, sexual orientation and gender identity.

So, yes, we hope that people will recognize the LGBTQ+ rainbow and we hope they know they’re welcome and safe here.

We also hope that people who’ve seen our hand painted sign that says “We’ll take anyone” will find this a more eye-catching way of saying that and know that when we say anyone, we mean anyone, even “all the colours of the rainbow” anyone.  Not only are you welcome here, but appreciated for your differences and loved for who you are.

We hope that children will laugh and be inspired by it and know that the church is a happy and safe place for them, too.

We hope that people will be reminded of the ancient story of the Great Flood and remember that the rainbow is a sign of God’s covenant of life with us.

We hope that people will see that it’s creative and colourful and so are we.

We hope that people will see it and smile and be reminded of the sense of wonder and beauty that we experience when we see a rainbow in the sky.

The point is, we hope that you will see something that is welcoming, heart warming, friendly and inspiring that speaks to you.  See?

Mary Ellen loves this hymn

“Come in, come in and sit down, you are a part of the family.  We are lost and we are found, and we are a part of the family.”  That’s the chorus of Jim Manley’s hymn that many folks think is the unofficial theme song of the United Church of Canada.  Mary Ellen loves this hymn and every church should have a Mary Ellen.  There are other favourites, I’m sure, probably as many as there are congregations, but this is one that hits home with lots of people with its recurring motif of “we are a part of the family.”

The “family” image isn’t exclusive to the United Church, of course.  Our “church family” is a popular way to describe any congregation or community of faith.  We’ve probably heard it used in other places, too, anywhere that people work or play together in a close enough way to form a relationship: work, school, clubs, communities.  The key is the relationship part, isn’t it?

Yes, says Jesus, yes it is.

And we have some struggle with that.  It wasn’t that long ago that the structure of a “conventional” family was as set in stone as it was in Jesus day: father and mother, 2.5 children, dog or cat and a reliable automobile.  What society had established as the structure was the only structure and the emphasis was on the positions and how we perceived them rather than the relationships between.  You knew your place in the hierarchy and who you were expected to be.  Lots of these “conventional” families were happy and healthy, but when you looked beyond the required structure and the expectations, there was lots of dysfunction, too. 

Our understanding of family structures has been changing for some time now.  I’m going to say evolving and growing, because I believe that, but many still struggle to hold to the familiar system they know.  I think what makes the difference is respect for the relationship of individuals and awareness of the importance of everyone’s uniqueness in developing community.

In the church family, too. 

Jesus is all about relationships and about how we engage each other with respect and openness.  When Jesus talks about loving and caring, it’s not something you do to someone, but with someone.  Good stewardship is not about benevolent control over, but care with.  Peace and harmony isn’t about everyone being the same, but about respecting differences and engaging the richness of those differences.  This, of course, is the kind of church family we’d like to have.  But are we there yet?

We’re accustomed to hearing stories about Jesus that show us how important it is to love and care, about peace and unity.  But in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke we also hear Jesus saying that he comes to bring division, to pit father against son, son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, essentially to divide a household.  Jesus challenges the “conventional” family of his day, saying that place and status need to be broken down when they aren’t working.  And they aren’t working in the synagogue, either.  Family is important, but family is about being in relationship.

“Unity in diversity” is a key theme in many churches, especially the United Church, and it could be a family motto.  But it has to be more than words.  To truly mean it, it must be the real family: one where people are able to love and respect difference as well as similarity, to learn from each other, to fight and then forgive, and to embrace and to recognize the time to part.  Yes, relationships change and sometimes have to end, but they can do so with respect and integrity.  New beginnings require an ending, new directions a change in the path.

He said what?

Have you played Trump or Jesus, yet?  If you go to trumporjesus.com, you can play an online quiz that offers you a series of quotes and you have to guess who said it, Donald Trump or Jesus.  You shouldn’t get anything less than a perfect score.

The point is to demonstrate how, despite the many Trump supporters who claim to be followers of Jesus, the things that he says are just completely the opposite of Jesus.  Like I said, you should not get anything less than a perfect score.

You better not get anything less than a perfect score.

Jesus is all about love and peace, caring for others and loving your enemies, being humble and sharing what we have.  That’s the Jesus we know, right?  And I think we know where The Donald stands on those issues.

How about this one: “do you think I’m here to bring peace?  No, I bring division.  Houses will be divided, father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother … You look at the clouds or the wind and you use them to predict the weather.   But you see what is happening all around you and you don’t understand what’s really going on.”  Trump or Jesus?

Yeah, that’s Jesus.

Not something you might expect from the “Prince of Peace,” is it?  But there it is, in Luke 12:29-56 (that’s my paraphrase above).   Like something Trump says, you might be tempted to ignore it or set it aside with a disbelieving shake of your head as something that’s a little “off message.”   Not that fear mongering, conflict and an arrogant superiority aren’t part of Trump’s message, they are.  But that’s not Jesus.  So if we hold on to this and engage it as something said by the same person who lived and taught a radical way of love and peace and wholeness, what then could it mean?

First, let’s be clear about peace.  Jesus doesn’t bring the kind of peace that we might superficially understand as the absence of conflict.  I’d suggest that Jesus’ idea of peace would be a sense of God’s guiding presence in our lives.  Martin Luther King Jr. wasn’t the only person to suggest that “true peace is not merely the absence of tension: it is the presence of justice,” or something similar.  But I wonder if we don’t need more, like a mindset - and a “heartset” - that says there may be tension, division or conflict, but that we’d address it with love, respect, patience, and compassion, as well as justice.  In other words, what Jesus teaches that God intended.

Even the Prince of Peace cannot force us to live peaceably or ensure that every moment or situation would be peaceful.  We have a choice, each of us individually, as well as groups, countries, religions and cultures collectively.

Jesus knows that he brings division.  Not only because he challenges the existing structures of society and tries to break those that are hurtful, hierarchical and power driven.  Not only because he brings a message that some will hear and others may not.  But because he knows that, fundamentally, we will each hear that message with our own ears, think it through in our own minds and bear it in our own hearts.

And I don’t for a moment think that Jesus would prefer conformity and uniformity; one homogenous community where we all think, be and do the same.  No, I think Jesus is hoping for us to recognize that we’re different and engage those differences.  I think Jesus is hoping that we’ll look at the people and the world around us and finally begin to understand that division doesn’t have to be destructive.  If we could see every person, every creature, every thing in every moment for its unique place in creation and engage it with love and respect, just imagine the world that could be built.

Getting On Board?

Can I talk about “All Aboard the Ark!” for a minute?  Stick with me, it’ll be worth it.

“All Aboard the Ark!” was our children’s summer program at the church this year, just last week.  A big “thank you” to all the children, parents, helpers, supporters and leaders who had a part in making a great week.

We do one each year, for 5-12 year olds.  It’s a week, mornings only, with songs, stories crafts and games.  There’s a snack each day, of course, and a lunch on the last day.  There’s a theme for the week and this year it was the Noah’s Ark story (Genesis 6:9-9:17).

Sort of.

We didn’t really focus on the story itself so much as the ark.  Our idea was to wonder about how everyone got along, building the ark and spending all that time cooped up in conditions that weren’t really cruise ship worthy in order that they could make a new beginning for the world.

On Monday we introduced the story: God had decided that things hadn’t turned out the way God thought they would, so God, much like an artist with a painting that hadn’t turned out, decided to wash it all away.  At least, that’s how God described it to Noah when he asks Noah to help.  God wants Noah to build an ark to save two of every creature so that the world can start again, pretty much from scratch.  God even gets the animals to help Noah build the ark.  And we did.  The children got to be there favourite animal and we put together some big pieces of chloroplast (thanks Bryan!) and started building the ark.  Together.

On Tuesday, it rained.  In the story called “Water all around,” anyway, and the animals were worried.  They tried to find God and ask God to stop the rain, but only the fish, in the end, knew where God was: just like the water to the fish, God is all around us, always with us.

The Monday craft had been making rainsticks (a percussion instrument that simulates the sound of rain) so the kids could be part of the story.  Check out our Facebook page for a short video clip of them in action.

By Wednesday, we were on the ark and it was pretty crowded, as you might expect.  We talked about personal space, both our own and respecting other’s, with a story called “Personal Space Camp.”  Both the craft and the games included Tic-Tac-Toe, a game that’s all about individual spaces.

Thursday, with everyone respecting each others’ space, was an opportunity to learn about how we can be good neighbours.  So we talked about the Golden Rule, “do unto others as you would have them do to you,” with a story about a rabbit who wonders how to deal with his new neighbours, the otters.  Yes, it’s called “Do Unto Otters.”

When the ark ran aground on Friday, we had a story called “Water All Around,” in which the raven and the dove, the most plain of all the birds, are the only ones brave enough to go out in search of land.  When the dove can’t find her way back with the olive branch, all the other brightly coloured birds make a rainbow to show her where the ark is.  We sang “This little light of mine” and wondered about the amazing things that each of us can accomplish, both by ourselves and together, remembering that God is always with us.  Just like the fish knew.

It was a great week.  And thanks again to everyone who participated and helped out.

Here’s the thing.  When all was said and done and the week was over, I was sitting reading the news.  All I could think was how much I’d like to take everyone, from everywhere, and sit them down in the kids’ makeshift ark.  We’d read those stories and sing some songs and learn how we otter be getting along.  We’d learn about respecting each other and all that we can accomplish with our individual gifts and, together, fly a little higher and a little brighter over a new world.  It may be child-like, but it sure isn’t childish.

Our pretend ark was church pews, rope and big pieces of plastic.  But the world is an ark, too.  And, just like our week on the ark, we should build it together, know that God is always with us, live with respect, treat others as we’d like them to treat us, and we shouldn’t be afraid to live to the fullest.

Pray

Do you pray?

Just to be clear, I'm not asking about those times in church when the pastor says "Let us pray" and we all bow our heads or kneel and share in a prayer made on our behalf.  Nor am I talking about those times we share in the Lord's Prayer, the prayer Jesus taught us, whether we understand it as an example of how to pray or "the" prayer to be shared.

I mean, do you pray?  You.  By yourself.  With God.  Or by whatever name you call God.

In the gospel of Luke, the author gives us one of the two stories of Jesus answering the disciples request to teach them to pray (Luke 11).  His response includes a short version of what we refer to as the Lord's Prayer.  But Jesus goes on, first with a parable that reminds us to be persistent in prayer and second, a reminder that God answers with what God knows is appropriate.  It seems a little like saying - and I'm paraphrasing Luke with some additions, here - "ask, and it shall be given to you, though maybe not exactly what you were expecting; search, and you will find, though maybe not exactly what you thought you were looking for; knock, and the door will be opened to you, though it may be a little like playing The Price Is Right, 'cause you might find something you weren't expecting."  God knows what is best for you and will answer with what is best for you.  Trust God.

That's a good way of explaining that, I suppose.  At least, we want it to be.  Sometimes it's hard to make that enough.  Like when we pray that God will help someone with cancer get well and they don't.  Or we pray that God will protect us from abuse, but the abuse doesn't stop.  Or we pray that a loved one travels safely and they're hurt in an accident.  Or we pray that God will help us find a job so we can care for our family, and there's no work to be found.  Or we pray for good healthy crops and there's a drought.  Is it enough then?

I want to say it is.  But if you've been in one of those situations when you appeal to God for help and it appears that the help isn't coming, it's seems harder to believe, doesn't it?  And not just in God, but in ourselves.  After all, what if our prayers weren't answered because we prayed wrong?

Maybe the key to understanding that better is in the examples Jesus gives, comparing prayer to persistently asking a friend for help, or comparing how God might answer to a parent's response to a child.  It seems, in Luke's gospel, like Jesus is saying "you must understand the relationship as if God were a friend or parent who knows us, who really knows us, not like some distant, all powerful entity."  God is not the Great Oz, but our dearest friend, a parent, a lover that knows us intimately, genuinely, uniquely.  After all, if we come from God and return to God, how can God not know us so deeply?

Our Prayer Tree - say a prayer
and tie a ribbon on the tree.

I don't have an answer for how God responds to each individual and unique prayer.  I can't imagine that anyone does.  But I know this: prayer is the voice of our relationship with God.  God hears all that is said from our hearts and you can't - you can't! - pray wrong.  God loves us for who we are and God loves us regardless of how we live.  God answers all prayers with love, whatever that love may look like to us.

Talk regularly with God.  Pray for needs, but pray with thanks also.  Pray because God is listening like a best friend or a parent or a loved one.  Pray however your heart needs to speak.  But do pray.

A Story About Jesus

True story.  I had to rescue Jesus from the side of the highway last Sunday morning.  His car broke down.  On the way to church.

I was the closest, so I had to go back and get him.  Church just wouldn’t have been the same that morning without Jesus.

Jesus was travelling alone.  And he was behind me, so he was a little late, probably doing something, I guess.  You know Jesus, right?

I should have messaged him and asked if he needed a ride in the first place.  His vehicle hasn’t been all that reliable lately.  This wasn’t the first time it had broken down and left him in the lurch.  I should have offered to take him, but I didn’t.

But there were others who could have taken him, too.  Yeah, so it’s not just me that didn’t think of him.  Or maybe they did and he just wanted some alone time.  Doesn’t matter.  For whatever reason, there was one, so I don’t feel bad about it.

Besides, I’m pretty busy, too.  That’s why I was still the closest.  Everyone else was already at the church or almost there and I was still on my way.  If I hadn’t been, it would have been even further to go to get him.  If we even did.  We probably would’ve been fine without him, but still, good thing I was handy.

When I came for him, Jesus was grateful for the hand.  You could tell he was pretty disappointed in his vehicle, though.  He’d picked it because he thought it was reliable and he could trust it.  He said it’d been around for a while, but hadn’t been used much.

It was a little ways further back than I thought, so we got to the church late.  They started without us.  Thankfully, the leader there didn’t give up on us and got people started so they’d be ready.  Because, of course, it did matter that Jesus was there.  It made a difference to everyone who was there who heard and sang and laughed and clapped and left inspired to share some Jesus in the world.

That is, as I said, a true story.

Last Sunday, the cast of Godspell was participating in the morning service in Camrose, where they were performing that weekend.  Their minister had crafted the service around that.  The actor who plays Jesus did get stuck on the highway, I was the closest person, I did go back for him and we were late.  And we, all of us who were there, were part of something special that everyone took away with them.

I also said that I was going to be telling this story.  Not just because it happened, but because it’s true.  The metaphors abound.

Jesus calls us into a relationship.  We may rely on Jesus, hear the stories of Jesus and speak to the importance of Jesus in our lives, but the way isn’t followed sitting down.  We, as the song says, are the hands and feet of Jesus now.  And, while I suspect most people wouldn’t admit it, it can be easier to leave Jesus stranded on the road than we think.  Please, be the hands and feet of Jesus as much as the mouth.  Move, as much as meditate; participate, as much as ponder   Be Mary as well as Martha.  Because that story’s not really about which way is better, period.  It’s about knowing when which way is better.  Life is about both.

The church hasn’t always been the most reliable vehicle for Jesus, has it?  It’s been around for awhile and it could use a tuneup.  So could you.  Be ready.  Be Jesus.