Sunday, June 29, 2014

Nostalgia and Novocaine

Nostalgia is a fiction, that things were never as bad as they are right now - that the good old days were simpler, nicer, better. But that fiction becomes affliction when we lose the ability to remember the right and wrong of days gone by, like carefully posed family portraits that hide the bruises of real-life nostalgia amplifies the obscenities of today's pain and strife. It strangles us with a constricting embrace that warmly presses the nails of shattered dreams deeper into out flesh - killing us tenderly and with a reassuring smile that somehow this could all be different.

But it can't.

This is reality and nostalgia is the dream. The dream of family vacations and Sunday morning brunches. Dreams of happily ever after and till death do us part. It's the blue pill that keeps us trapped in the same cycle of numbed conformity day after day chasing after a life of fantasy that never existed in the first place. Nostalgia is the opiate of the soul It turns terrorists into martyrs and good men into monsters; it lies to us and we like being lied to.

But Jesus said the truth would set us free, so I'm choosing to take off the shackles of nostalgia and take a walk in the courtyard of my present circumstance. Because If I have the courage to open my eyes and recognize the blemishes and lines of an imperfect past perhaps I might just find the courage and the strength I need to face this trying hour with the wisdom and grace those lines and blemishes imply. So I'm praying for a liberation from nostalgia, I'm praying for my eyes to be opened wide so that I can still tell the difference between joy and pain, between trial and blessing, to know the difference in the past so that I may recognize it in the present. I want to remember the sting - the cutting of flesh and the breaking of heart so that I may know what it means still to be alive, in the present, and not just in my memories.

Nostalgia is novocaine and I’m quitting cold turkey.



Sunday, June 15, 2014

Turning Heel

Confession. I used to be a big WWF fan, and the fact that I refer to it as the WWF and not the WWE shows you just how long ago that was, and in wrestling there is a time honoured tradition of a the heel turn. When a fan favourite or "face" wrestler, usually one with a mediocre following and in need of reinvention, shocks the world by doing something dastardly or appalling and getting the fans to intentionally boo him and make him the bad guy.  I remember the day when a young and bright eyed Rocky Maivia joined the Nation of Domination and became The Rock. I remember when the Ringmaster Steve Austin went Stone Cold on everyone and busted out Austin 3:16. But the best  heel turn I remember was when Bret the Hitman Hart pulled off the unthinkable. Becoming a full on heel in the USA while remaining a face everywhere else in the world by proudly flying the Canadian flag and tapping into a lot of anti-American sentiment.


Well today I'm going to try to pull off my own Bret Hart-esque heel turn by making myself enemy number one in my former province, and making everyone hate me while simultaneously winning fans in my newly adopted province of Manitoba. Today I turn my back on Rider Nation to join the fans of the Blue and Gold. Today I’m giving the green and white a Stone Cold Stunner dropping  the mic and walking out of Riderville.

Why? Because Winnipeg is my home. One year ago this weekend I participated in an emotional farewell service in Estevan and started the long process of saying goodbye to people and a community that I loved. And as I left, one of the most common questions I received was “now you’re not going to start cheering for the Bombers are you?” And every time I was asked that I carefully chose my words as I told them that I was a Riders fan and I would cheer for the green and white when I got to Winnipeg. And cheer for them I did. I played the heel during my very first Labour Day weekend at The Bridge by pulling out and putting on my Rider Jersey and taunting the Bombers fans in the crowd with a photo of a punted Pomeranian. I hosted a Labour Day party and even a Grey Cup party and invited all the other Rider fans in the diaspora as we celebrated the hoisting of the cup on home turf - But as time has gone on, and I have learned to let go, it has become evident to me that as God has led me to this city he has led me to embrace the people, the culture and even the sports franchises wholeheartedly even if it means turning heel.

There is absolutely nothing doctored in this photo...

Some of you may remember that I arrived in Estevan as an Argos fan and it wasn’t until the beginning of the 2007 season that I finally was willing to drink the (green) Kool-Aid and get on board with the crazies in Saskatchewan and cheer the boys onto their third ever Grey Cup that season. I am not a born and bred like so many of the die-hard fans out there, I was a proselyte and I chose to come over to the green side because God had called me to be all-in where I ministered. Now I have been led to the beautiful city of Winnipeg and after a year of being the antagonist (a role I love to play) it’s time to get on board and cheer for the Blue and Gold with all my heart.

And yes, I’m well aware that in making this decision I’m trading my fandom of the reigning Grey Cup champs for a team that went 3-15 last season. And yes, I’m well aware that the outlook for the Bombers is not much better this year than last year - but it doesn’t matter. I’ve hitched my wagon to this team. I’ve bought a second hand jersey. I’m ready for whatever may come. Hate me, boo me, leave nasty comments below, it matters not. I never was that good at the banjo anyways, and I’ve always looked better in blue. But no matter what you may think of me - love me or hate me for this defection - let’s all still agree that nobody sucks like Calgary!


[Drops the mic and walks out]

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Sacred Seconds


Paul Harvey once shared a story of a woman and her frozen holiday turkey.
The Butterball Turkey Company set up a telephone hotline to answer consumer questions about preparing holiday turkeys. One woman called to inquire about cooking a turkey that had been in the bottom of her freezer for 23 years. That's right, 23 years! The Butterball representative told her the turkey would probably be safe to eat if the freezer had been kept below zero for the entire 23 years. But the Butterball representative warned her that even if the turkey was safe to eat, the flavour would probably have deteriorated to such a degree that she would not recommend eating it. The caller replied, "That's what I thought. We'll give the turkey to our Church."
How many times have we looked at our house and said. It’s time for an upgrade and so we change the curtains, or the carpet, or the furniture, or the appliances, or we want a new TV because the one we have is not big enough or sharp enough or it doesn’t look good with our new furniture or carpet or what not. So we scrimp and save, or borrow and spend as the case may be to get that new shiny thing that is the object of our desires and then we look at what we had before and we go through a mental checklist.

Can I use this anywhere else in the house?
Can I get any money for this on the second hand market?
Do I know anyone who might want this and would take it off my hands?

And if we answer “No” to all three of those questions we say to ourselves: Well I guess the church could use it. And we drop off our sacred seconds at the house of worship so that the staff, or the youth group, or the kids ministry can make use of it and we pat ourselves on the back and call it good stewardship.

Or we work really hard all year. And we save up our vacation days for that long awaited chance to get away from it all. To get away from our job, or our boss, or our stress and to take some much deserved “me time.” Perhaps that vacation is spent camping, or it’s spent at a resort, or visiting relatives, or jet-setting around the globe – or perhaps even you’re planning a “stay-cation” this year and you’re going to attempt some project at home or even just putter around for a couple weeks. Meanwhile you’ve passed on the opportunity to go on a missions trip, or to help out with your congregations’ Vacation Bible School[1], or even volunteer with summer ministries because you simply are too busy and don’t have the time.

Don’t have the time?
Really?

Friends I wonder how often we are guilty of giving God something less than our first fruits; something less than our best. How often are we guilty of giving God our sacred seconds?

In the book of Malachi Yahweh demonstrates contempt for the corrupt priesthood who dishonour him through the presentation of blemished offerings. God says through the prophet:
“A son honours his father, and a slave his master. If I am a father, where is the honour due me? If I am a master, where is the respect due me?” says the Lord Almighty. “It is you priests who show contempt for my name. “But you ask, ‘How have we shown contempt for your name?’ “By offering defiled food on my altar. “But you ask, ‘How have we defiled you?’ “By saying that the Lord’s table is contemptible. When you offer blind animals for sacrifice, is that not wrong? When you sacrifice lame or diseased animals, is that not wrong? Try offering them to your governor! Would he be pleased with you? Would he accept you?” says the Lord Almighty.(Malachi 1:6-8)
God is telling the priests that when they accept and offer up leftovers to the Lord as sacrifice they are implicitly making a statement about the way they think about God. When they offer him a sacrifice that they wouldn’t even offer local politicians they make a statement about their true devotion and love for Yahweh.

Further on in verses 12-13 he makes this abundantly clear:
But you profane it by saying, ‘The Lord’s table is defiled,’ and, ‘Its food is contemptible.’ And you say, ‘What a burden!’ and you sniff at it contemptuously,” says the Lord Almighty.
Have you ever considered what your practice of “stewardship” says to God? When you give to the God that you claim to owe your very life and salvation to out of the overflow of your…leftovers what message are you conveying to him? What message are you conveying to the world?

When you only drop in the offering plate what you have on you in cash and change at the time the offering is taken.

When you only help out in the church when all the other “priority” items in your schedule allow for it.

When you only give to the poor when you procure newer and better stuff for yourself.

When you only give a thanksgiving turkey away that you’d be embarrassed to feed to your guests.

Yahweh continues to speak through the prophet:
“When you bring injured, lame or diseased animals and offer them as sacrifices, should I accept them from your hands?” says the Lord. “Cursed is the cheat who has an acceptable male in his flock and vows to give it, but then sacrifices a blemished animal to the Lord. For I am a great king,” says the Lord Almighty, “and my name is to be feared among the nations.(Malachi 1:13-14) 
I’m not trying to pick on anyone, nor am I venting out of any recent frustration. I’m writing this post precisely because I’ve enjoyed a season in ministry lately where I haven’t had to deal with this specific issue and feel safe now stating it without specifically calling anyone out. But over the course of a decade in ministry I have seen every one of these examples (except – I hope – the Turkey) play out many times. Ratty old couches mysteriously appear in the Youth Room, gargantuan old rear projection TVs end up in the church foyer that no one (including the church) has room or use for anymore; old computers that can barely get on the Internet being offered up for new staff or interns to use in the name of good stewardship. I will go out on a limb here and state that when we puff up with pride and think that we have somehow done something truly generous or have practiced good stewardship in these actions all we have done becomes an affront to God.

I’m not saying that you need to give everything you have to God, or the church or to charity. I’m not saying that you’re never entitled to something new (well actually I would say that, but only because I used the word “entitled”) or that you can’t have nice things. I’m saying don’t delude yourself by thinking that giving your sacred seconds to Jesus is somehow a sacrifice, as if Jesus was some sort of divine junk collector. Don’t think that Jesus is satisfied with your afterthought offerings, or your garage sale generosity. If he is who you say he is, then he is worthy of nothing less than your absolute best. In scripture we talk about the first fruits of our labours belonging to God the first part of your paycheque, or best part of your day, or the nicest of your stuff. Whether you give or not is completely up to you. And how much you give of something is completely up to you. Even where you give (the church, or a community organisation, or a charity or directly to people who need help) is up to you. Paul reminds us to give out of a cheerful heart and not out of compulsion – we don’t want any Ananias and Sapphira situations happening. But know that what you give, if you give, is a reflection of what you think about God.

God demands better than our sacred seconds – even if they are tiny and infrequent firsts.



[1] For the sake of transparency I’m skipping my congregation’s VBS this year to visit with family overseas.