Stain Glass Lens of the 21st Century

Tag: Christian

  • Happy Mother’s Day

    Happy Mother’s Day

    Mother’s Day has come around again.  In seminary we were taught that these “Hallmark Holidays” were more about turning a profit for big business than genuine sentiment.  That wasn’t the way it started; Mother’s Day has an honest beginning.

    Anna Jarvis of Philadelphia, whose mother had organized women’s groups to promote friendship and health, originated Mother’s Day. On May 12, 1907, she held a memorial service at her late mother’s church in Grafton, West Virginia. Within five years virtually every state was observing the day, and in 1914 U.S. Pres. Woodrow Wilson made it a national holiday. (Britannica)

    There is a tradition that on Mother’s Day one wears a flower pinned to their lapel in honour of their mother.  The tradition holds that a white flower indicates if one’s mother has died, and a red or pink flower tells of a mother who is still alive. 

    Sadly, I find myself wearing a white flower on Mother’s Day.  I miss my mom daily and am grateful that her wisdom and lessons remain with me.   

    This past week I had the opportunity to visit with two lovely women from the church I serve.  Each knows the depths of grief that comes from the deaths of their spouses, and each has lived through the hardships of life.  They both are advanced in years and can fondly remember days of better health and of happier times.  And yet, each visit was filled with laughter and conversation that never turned dull or negative.  These are not the type of women who spend time in gossip or judgement of others. Instead, I heard of future vacation plans, gardens planted and family gatherings.  The time flew with each visit.

    As I reflected on both women, I realized they each model nurture to me and remind me of my own Mother and Grandmothers.  Their laughter, hospitality and wisdom mark the way I want to travel as I grow in years.  I too would like to be a beacon of nurture to younger women and be one who shares joy, acceptance, and grace that they each modelled for me.

    This Mother’s Day I thank God for the mother I had and for all those that still nurture the world with their care, grace, and laughter.

    Happy Mother’s Day,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel  

    Photo by George Dolgikh/Pexels

  • When Healing Doesn’t Come

    When Healing Doesn’t Come

    One of my favorite pastimes as a child was to go roller skating around the neighborhood.  My skates were two metal frames with four metal wheels that would buckle onto the soul of my running shoes. They did not have a rubber stop so when it came time to stop, I would throw myself down on the grass or against a tree.  Needless to say, I spent most of my summers with bandaged knees!  Eventually the wounds would scab over and before I knew it my knees were back to normal.  I took for granted that healing would always come.

    A couple of months ago I had a somewhat simple procedure performed on one of my knees.  The surgeon had said that within 6 to 8 weeks I would be back to normal.  Well, six weeks has come and gone and still my knee isn’t functioning like it should.  A few unexpected complications have delayed the healing. In my frustration I called out to God, demanding strength, patience and a pain free day.  

    In the Gospel of Mark there is a story of Jesus healing Samuel’s ill Mother-in-law followed by Jesus healing all kinds of people (Mark 1:29-34).  The story seems to imply that so long as you reach out to Jesus in faith, your healing will come.  The opposite truth being, if you do not receive healing, it must be a sign of some weakness in your faith.

    But we know that eventually healing didn’t come to Samuel’s Mother-in-law.  The same is true of all those Jesus healed; a day arrived when each and every one of them died.  Eventually, healing does not come.

    What do we do when the healing doesn’t come?  We all know those moments when our pain seems to increase and resilience seems impossible.  What do we do when all seems to fail?

    We do exactly what Jesus did. 

    In the same passage in the Gospel of Mark, after healing hundreds of people, Jesus went off alone to pray (Mark 1:35).  He knew that when we feel depleted, there is one who is always ready to listen, to offer peace and to make whole that which seems broken.  We are reminded to “Draw near to God and God will draw near to you.” (James 4:8 NKJV)

    May we always believe in God’s eternal plan, trusting in the one who sees beyond any of our limited horizons. 

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Lukas Rychvalsky/Pexels

  • The World House  

    The World House  

    Some years ago, a famous novelist died. Among his papers was found a list of suggested plots for future stories, the more prominently underscored being this one: “A widely separated family inherits a house in which they have to live together.” 

    This is the great new problem of our time.  We have inherited a large house, a great ‘world house’ in which we have to live together-black and white, Easterner and Westerner, gentile and Jew, Catholic and Protestant, Muslim and Hindu-a family unduly separated in ideas, culture and interest who, because we can never again live apart, must learn somehow to live with each other in peace. (Martin Luther King, Jr’s introduction to his talk, “The World House”)

    The world’s religions all agree it isn’t complicated to live in peace, simply “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”  Jesus simplified it even more, “love thy neighbour as thyself” (Matthew 22:37–39).   

    Who is our neighbour?  Anyone beyond ourselves. 

    Author Saul Bellows tells the story of a rabbi in a small village who mysteriously disappeared every Friday.  It was whispered, and the villagers sincerely believed, that on those days he ascended to Heaven itself.  A newcomer to the village heard this and was extremely skeptical.  So, making sure he was not seen, he stealthily followed the rabbi one Friday.  He saw the rabbi change into the clothes of a peasant.  Then, carrying an axe, he went into a nearby forest where he cut down a tree. He cut the tree into fire logs.  Gathering enough for a week’s burning he took them to the home of an old and frail woman.  After that, he returned to the village, changing back into his usual clothes. 

    And ever afterwards, when the villagers declared that every Friday their rabbi ascended to Heaven, the newcomer would say under his breath, “If not higher.”

    May we all ascend higher than heaven by our daily selfless acts of caring for our neighbours.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Priscilla Du Preez/Unsplash  

  • Night Calls

    Night Calls

    It was in the wee hours of the morning that they woke me.  At first, I wondered if I had dreamt it but as I lay awake their calls filled my darkened room.  Getting up and quietly pulling on my slippers I leaned against the open screen and listened more deliberately.

    Sure enough, they were out there.  Not one but most likely two or more owls screeching and hooting; each marking their territory.  Carefully I opened the door to the patio and slipped out unnoticed.  I wanted to enjoy their conversation for as long as I could.

    Their hollow hoots took me back to a night many years earlier in the same back yard.  We all were gathered around a camp fire and my three young children, no older than 9 or 10, heard an owl for the first time.  As we silently listened to the haunting call the camp fire flames danced in the night creating a most desired effect; it was a night we won’t forget.  The awe I felt that night returned as I now sat alone listening deeply from the back deck.

    Earlier that night I had prayed asking for words, the kind of words a minister is to preach on a Sunday following a week of terrible headlines. That week we had witnessed wild fires strip thousands of acres of land, homeless people pitch make shift tents in city centres, random stabbings on the Toronto subway, and locally we had the deaths of two young promising youth.

    These owls had arrived to answer that very prayer.  Their timelessness reminded me of God’s great mystery, awe, and eternal presence.   

    As the owls flew away leaving behind the wind whispering through the pine trees I knew I had my answer.  As First Nation’s writer, Richard Wagamese once wrote, “I know that the price of faith is the courage to walk through anything with belief in immaculate love-and the value of faith is eternal.” 

    There is eternal value in trusting God’s love, participating in the great mystery and remaining open to God’s un-chartable awe.

    Blessing,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Erik Karits/Pexels

  • Shepherding Sunday

    Shepherding Sunday

    For many Christians this is the week of the annual Shepherding Sunday service.  This is a service when the scripture passages of Jesus calling us his sheep are read alongside the widely loved 23rd Psalm.

    Jesus begins by describing not a good Shepherd but imposters who try to get into the sheepfold acting like a Shepherd but ultimately not caring one ounce about the sheep (John 10:1).  This is a warning that not all humanity is kind, generous or deserving of our trust.  Jesus does offer a list of the characteristics of an authentic Shepherd which include knowing each sheep by name, going ahead of the sheep and sacrificing himself for his sheep.    

    Thing is, once you have met this Good Shepherd it makes all the difference.  When he calls to your heart, you know it and when you begin to hear the melody of his love it becomes the tune that shapes your days.  As author Barb Roose writes, “For me, I find comfort in knowing that beyond what I see in humanity, Jesus is the Good Shepherd who has never let me down.”

    No matter what happens in life, nothing can take us away from our Shepherd; not betrayal, depression, job loss, debt or even death.  Once we become a part of His flock we will never be lost to Him.  We will never be beyond His gaze or His love. 

    And, this is exactly what David was writing about when he wrote the 23rd Psalm.  He had become so acquainted with God while he was a Shepherd that the image of God’s care stayed with David throughout a tumultuous life.  David knew that this Shepherd would never leave him but instead guide him through the valley of the shadow of death, along green pastures, beside still waters and into an eternal dwelling.  David knew, “Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the day of my life…”.

    May we all take time this week to listen deeply for the call of our Shepherd,

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel    

    Photo by Biegun Wschodni/Unsplash

  • Messy Resurrection

    Messy Resurrection

    It is amazing how much can change in only a few days. 

    Our backyard transformed from a white oasis of untouched snow into a quagmire of brown water and a thick mucky mess.  For the next week we tried everything from car washing gloves picked up at the Dollar Store to a ‘Paw Washing Cup’ purchased at the pet shop. But no matter what we did muddy paw prints were continually trailed throughout the house.  Finally, out of complete frustration we took a few tall garden stakes along with some snow fencing and circled off the muddy part of the backyard. 

    What happened next was completely unexpected.

    We didn’t notice the transformation until Holy Week and one afternoon I wandered out behind the garage to discover the muddy patch had transformed completely.  What had been the cause of much frustration now had blossomed into a cornucopia of bobbing spring jubilation; a carpet of crocuses now covered the muddy spot.

    I stood there completely stunned.  We had never planted crocuses in this muddy patch and yet, there they stood defying the cold north wind, the deep muck and the complete obscurity of the space.  How very Easter of them!

    In church we tell ourselves we are an Easter people, quoting St. Augustine who preached,   “We are an Easter people and Alleluia is our hymn of praise!”

    As those who follow Jesus not only into the Palm Parade but also through the painful mucky mess of an unthinkable crucifixion, followed by days of darkness and then back out into the light of resurrection, we are a people who live Easter lives.   

    As those who believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ we are the ones called to bring new life in areas that seem lifeless; feeding the hungry, visiting the lonely and lifting up the fallen and we do it to the glory of a Creator God, who can turn muck into life.

    We are the blooming crocuses in the muddy patches of life!

    Happy Easter,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • The Waiting Place

    The Waiting Place

    These late days of lent and early days of spring are known as the ‘in-between’ days or as Dr. Seuss dubbed them the “Waiting Place”.  This is a place in between what was and what will be.

    We are in the days when the calendar tells us spring has officially arrived and yet we wait for true spring weather; warm days filled with birdsong and blooming tulips.

      These are days after the snow shovels have been placed back in the garage but before we can get out the garden spades or lawn rakes, days of restlessly waiting. 

    We also are in the days of the Lenten journey; days of waiting to sing our hallelujahs.  

    We tend to busy ourselves in this ‘waiting place’ with mindless tasks. We call it spring cleaning when we empty all the kitchen cupboards and wipe them down, or we go through all the winter mittens, scarves and hats sorting them into piles.  These are unnecessary tasks invented to keep us busy during these waiting days.

    Instead we should simply pause and allow ourselves to be quiet before God.  This “waiting place” is ripe in opportunity to hush the constant racket and still our ever restless ambition long enough to sense the Divine presence in the air around us. 

    This is a time to put down the phone, turn off the TV or close the laptop. 

    Perhaps God has created this “Waiting Place” as an invitation to sit in awareness of God’s peace, healing and love.  I suspect this divine prompting is for our own good, a time to slow our pace and clear our spiritual vision; a practice that sharpens our ability to witness the divine dance that happens around us daily.

    May we all hold space this Holy Week to be quiet before God and may this be a time of deep renewal.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Serkan Goktay/Pexels

  • The Seeds Have Arrived!

    The Seeds Have Arrived!

    What an exciting day; the day the seeds arrive!  These small colourful packets bring magic and joy to an otherwise dull February day transporting me to warm afternoons spent toiling under the sun.  Each packet holds small pearls of hope.  

    The shriveled up peas, tiny radish seeds and the sprinkling of promised lettuce looks insignificant to anyone who has never coaxed life from a garden. But, to those who know of its lure, these packets harken to autumn pleasures of full fruit cellars, preserves and hanging herbs.  These tiny gems are deceptive in their power, tenacity and transformation.

    Lent is a “seedy” season; a season of great transformation.  We deliberately turn inward to examine our personal relationship with God all the while moving steadily toward a crucified death. And, like a seed planted in the dark soil, the darkness cannot stop life from emerging.   Similarly, this Lenten journey brings us to a resurrection that teaches death does not have the final word.    

    So, yes, Lent is the perfect time for the seeds to arrive! As Jesus taught, “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all your seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches.”

    May we all have a “Seedy” Lent that transforms these darken winter days to days of spring flowers, bird song and joyful celebration.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Krista Bennett/Unsplash  

  • Lenting

    Lenting

    A clergyman, a doctor and a time-management guru were playing golf together one day. Soon they got stuck behind a particularly slow group ahead of them. The time-management guy said, ‘What’s with these people? We’ve been waiting on the tee for more than 30 minutes and they’re still not on the next green!”

    The doctor agreed, “They’re hopeless. I’ve never seen such rambling around a golf course.”

    The clergyman spotted the approaching greenskeeper and asked him what was going on. “What’s happening with that group ahead of us? They’re surely too slow and useless to be playing, aren’t they?”

    The greenskeeper replied, “Oh, yes, that’s a group of blind fire-fighters. They lost their sight saving our clubhouse from a fire last year, so we always let them play for free anytime.”

    The three golfers fell silent for a moment. Then the clergyman said, “Oh dear, that’s so sad. I shall say some special prayers for them tonight.”

    The doctor added, rather meekly, “That’s a good thought. I’ll get in touch with an ophthalmic surgeon friend of mine to see if there’s anything that can be done for them.”

    After pondering the situation for a few seconds, the time-management expert turned to the greenskeeper and asked, “Why can’t they play at night?”

    This joke reminds me of the Lenten Season.  Or, to be more specific, it reminds me of those who impatiently rush through the 40 days of Lent missing out on the gifts of the season. An example of this is the time-management expert who missed out entirely on the beauty of the moment.

    The Season of Lent begins on Wednesday February 22nd marking the 40 days and nights that Jesus spent in the desert fighting off temptation.  He was hungry and most likely exhausted when he came toe to toe with the biggest temptations life offers; gluttony, ego, materialism, and willfulness against God.  Through knowledge of scripture, divine wisdom and depth of faith he not only triumphs but God sends angels to tend to him.

    The gifts of Lent are self-reflection, silent correction and a redirection of our pathways.  It is an opportunity to decide what we keep from our past, what we appreciate in our present life and what we look forward to in the new beginnings promised by God.  As Rev. Dr. N.T. Wright writes, “Lent is a time for discipline, for confession, for honesty, not because God is mean or fault- finding or finger-pointing but because he wants us to know the joy of being cleaned out, ready for all the good things he now has in store.”

    May we all take time during this most sacred season to prepare ourselves for the good things God has in store.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Alvaro La Rosa/Pexels 

  • Poking Holes In The Dark

    Poking Holes In The Dark

    Jesus tells us that we are the light of the world and we are to shine His light for all to see; “do not hide it under a bushel”, he warns (Matthew 5:16).  Hearing these words always reminds me of the author Robert Louis Stevenson who is best known for works such as Treasure Island and Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  I once read a story from his childhood that illustrates what it means to be Christ’s light in the world.

    As a child Robert Louis Stevenson was in very poor health.  One night, when he was quite sick, his nurse found him with his nose pressed against the frosty pane of his bedroom window.  “Child, come away from there.  You’ll catch your death of cold,”   but young Robert would not budge.  He was mesmerized as he watched an old lamplighter slowly work his way through the black night lighting each street lamp along his route.  “See, look there,” Robert pointed, “There’s a man poking a hole in the darkness.” 

    That is what we are called to do, poke holes in the darkness.  To be Christ’s light means we go into dark places and share God’s love, forgiveness and acceptance.  These dark places may be grief, poverty, illness, injustices and loneliness. 

    It takes courage and faith to be Christ’s light in a darkened world.  So often the world rewards the “winner” at the risk of many “losers”.  What would TV be like today if we took out the competition to be the best and instead just celebrated everyone’s unique talents?  What if everyone received second place and praising God came in first place?  Then we would see the light everywhere! 

    We need not do grand acts that bring us a lot of attention and accolades, as Neal A. Maxwell writes, “Small lights have a way of being seen in a dark world.” Simple acts as taking time to listen to each other, building each other up and speaking words of love produce a powerful light.   

    Dwight L. Moody put it best when he preached, “We are told to let our light shine, and if it does, we won’t need to tell anybody it does. Lighthouses don’t fire cannons to call attention to the shining—they just shine.”

    Go and be a lighthouse,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Evgeni Tcherkasski/Unsplash