We come to worship every week, saints and sinners; two sides of the same coin. Gathering to sing praises, studying scriptures, utter prayers and share in fellowship. We gather not as a perfect people but as those seeking to become a holy people; holy in God’s sight.
And we know we are not alone; the bible is full of sinners like us transformed by the love of Jesus. We read of Jesus welcoming the boastful, the prostitute, the tax collectors, the selfish, and even the hypocrite. In fact the Apostle Paul, the one credited with writing most of the New Testament, claims himself to be a hypocrite, “For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.” (Romans 7:19)
Perhaps that is the only place where holiness can begin; the honest place of self-awareness. Paul knew of his own short comings and brought them before Jesus.
And so, to all those who are imperfect, seeking to find a place of refuge in a difficult world, I say, “Come as you are and find a place among us where sinners sing and saints pray. Where hypocrites are welcome and the lonely find belonging; come and break bread with us and find that in our imperfections we celebrate a perfect love made available to all.”
Have you ever met someone who truly inspired you? Not the heavy weights such as Martin Luther King Jr or Mother Teresa but everyday people. Those whose days are filled with ordinary tasks such as grocery shopping, paying the bills, laundry, making supper, working and helping the kids with their homework; everyday Saints who blaze a trail of faithful living through the ordinariness of life.
These folks inspire me because of their vision. Where I see endings, they see new beginnings, where I see lack they see opportunities or where I see despair they see something to be grateful for. They embody the gospel for me, living their lives as faithful followers of the one who said such amazing things as, “Do not be afraid. Take courage, I am here.” (Matthew 14:27, LBT). They joyfully celebrate God’s presence and wisdom in every situation, no matter the circumstances.
They remind me of a quote attributed to Francis of Assisi, “Preach the gospel at all times and when necessary use words.” We are not sure he actually said these words but certainly his short life of 44 years was a testimony to their wisdom. And those who inspire me seem to effortlessly live by the wisdom of these words; not preaching the hopefulness of the gospel with flowery sermons but instead living it day by day in the trenches of life.
The Apostle Paul is another example. While in prison with an uncertain future he writes a letter to the church in Philippi reminding them that he is constantly praying in joy for them. (Phil 1:4) He spends his imprisonment writing letters, praying for others and testifying to God’s steadfast love. His response to his circumstances was so impressive he became a person of timeless inspiration challenging us all to, “….dare to proclaim the gospel with greater boldness and without fear.” (Phil 1:14).
Thanks be to God for these ordinary, everyday Saints who inspire us to a higher way of living!
Starting February 1st to the 10th, 2022 I will be riding my bike 60 km to signify the distance between my home and the hospital where I work as a Spiritual Care Provider (Chaplain). I know for many a 60 km bike ride is nothing more than a pleasant Saturday afternoon excursion but not in February! It is a virtual bike ride. I will be doing the 60 km on my stationary bike charting the progress daily.
There is an excellent reason for this mid-winter jaunt. I and many others are raising awareness of Spiritual Care Providers in local hospitals as well as raising funds to help support the presence of Spiritual Care Providers in the Grey-Bruce Hospitals. The campaign is titled: “I Care ∴ I Walk (or ride): A Spiritual Care Challenge to Grey Bruce.”
In Grey-Bruce Counties there are trained Spiritual Care Providers in every hospital, hospice and at- home palliative care teams. If you or a member of your family have ever received a visit from one of the Spiritual Care Providers than you know the invaluable care they provide. These trained professionals offer a non-anxious presence in some of the most anxious situations life has to offer. Some are available On-Call 24/7 and are often called into crisis situations.
If you would like to support the Spiritual Care presence in the local Grey-Bruce Hospitals please consider sponsoring me (every $20.00 donation or more is receipted) or email the Spiritual Care Office for details: ehazen@gbhs.on.ca.
Recently, as I was ending a visit, the patient turned to me and said, “I didn’t realize how much I needed your visit until now. Thank you for coming and could you come back soon?” This sentiment is repeated often. Please consider helping us to keep the gentle and attentive presence of Spiritual Care Providers within our local hospitals.
At Bible Study last week one of the participants asked, “Why can’t God do something as big as the disasters? The flooding out west, the horrific carnage of the forest fires last summer or this pandemic that has taken over the entire globe. These disasters cannot be ignored. Why can’t God do something that is so big everyone witnesses God’s power?”
Her question expressed the true longing of the Advent Season; the longing for God’s kingdom to be realized.
Many others around the table nodded their heads in agreement and she quietly added, “I know God is at work. We hear about those who step up to help and we hear about those who survived against the odds. We hear the heroic stories and know God is busy turning things around. But why do we always have to look so hard to see the small acts of God?”
She has a point. God does do things in obscure places in seemingly unnoticeable ways; a baby born to poor parents in a barn who grows to lead an endless worldwide movement that begun with only 12 followers.
As the Apostle Paul writes in his letter to the Corinth Church, “…God chose the small things…Yes, he chose even the things which seem to be nothing. He did this to destroy the big things.” (1 Corinthians 1:28)
Forest fires are eventually extinguished by each tiny drop of water and each sand bag does its part to hold back the flood. This is how God’s kingdom works, small and quiet acts that echo for eternity.
We can help realize God’s kingdom by small acts of peace, respect, and acceptance. What a difference the world would be if each one of us decided to do one small act of kindness every day; imagine the tremendous wave of hope, peace, joy and love that would wash over the world!
I hope the weather is lousy this Thursday. A bit of cold rain and a chilly breeze that cuts right through us would do just fine as we stand at the cenotaph shielding our faces from the cold, stamping our freezing feet against the hard ground, and rubbing our cold hands together. Then and only then, will we be in the proper stance for a Remembrance Day ceremony.
There should be a certain level of unease at a Remembrance Day ceremony. It is a reminder of the tragic sacrifices made by those we are honouring. We all are so tremendously blessed with comfort, luxury, and security, that we easily forget how deeply grateful we ought to be. We are indebted to those who bravely went into the unknown and fought against all that would take our freedom and comfort away: some returned silenced by the carnage they witnessed, others shared heroic tales, while many never returned.
Even as we gather for Remembrance Day this Thursday, there will be those in other countries battling for everyone’s right to freedom. They stand stoically before injustices and demonstrate sanctuary and strength for those who cannot fight for themselves. Some have returned torn and deeply discouraged, and most struggle with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) haunted by the loss of their friends who will never return; all are heroic in their selflessness.
On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, may we stand in silence as an act of respect, gratitude, and pride of those who gave their all for each and every one of us. To neglect one minute of your time is a deep disrespect and only minimizes you – not them.
And when the trumpet sounds, may we turn our eyes skyward, thanking the great Creator for such brave souls.
It was a cool and rainy morning following a cool and rainy night. He arrived to the cemetery just as the birds were beginning their morning song. As he scanned the cemetery he noticed the lid on the wooden box behind the shed was a bit askew. This box is used in the winter to hold salt and in the summer it holds large bags of grass seed. He cautiously approached wondering what it was this time; a raccoon or a skunk that had slipped inside? What he found was far more shocking!
If it had been anyone else that opened the box they would have screamed, ran and dialed 9-1-1, but not this guy. This retired Funeral Home Director, Pete, had seen countless dead bodies over his career, what was one more?
Thing was, this body, although found in a wooden box in a cemetery, wasn’t dead. As Pete fully opened the box the shoe-less figure stirred a bit but didn’t wake until the one holding the lid said in a rather loud and booming voice, “Hey! What are you doing in there?”
Startled the young man tried to get to his feet but was jammed pretty good inside the box. Pete helped him to his socked feet then aided him in getting out of his cramped quarters. They quickly walked to Pete’s pickup truck where he turned the heat on full blast and began to ask questions, many questions.
Since retiring up to “cottage country” this Funeral Director had become active on a couple of country cemetery boards and had taken on the role as Grounds Keeper. It was in this role that he arrived early that morning prepared to cut some grass, trim some weeds and put down new grass seed, instead he retrieved a tired soul from inside a wooden box.
As the young man attempted to explain how he ended up inside that box Pete turned his truck around and headed for home to retrieve an old pair of shoes and a warm jacket for this wayward guest. Pete then drove this young man back into town all the while listening to his not so happy tale.
Apparently, he had been enjoying an evening at the local Pub when a group of guys suggested he join them for a bush party. Young, foolish and feeling a bit adventurous he agreed to join the group as they jumped into a car and headed out. Before he knew it he was down a country road he hadn’t ever seen before and after a few more drinks he couldn’t possibly find his way home. The same group of guys decided to head back into town but tired of his company so they took his shoes and dropped him off at a cross road. He managed to walk as far as the cemetery, found the box, crawled in and the rest, as they say, is history.
Pete dropped him off at a Tim Hortons while passing him a couple of bucks. The young man thanked Pete profusely before getting out.
Jesus tells us that when we feed the hungry, cloth the poor and visit the lonely we are feeding, clothing and visiting him. He assures us that when we serve the least among us we are serving him; what he doesn’t tell us is that these opportunities to serve will, at times, arrive rather unexpectedly.
That morning Pete may have done more than just cloth and feed this young man but may have also restored this young man’s confidence in humankind; and modeled a loving response to life.
I wonder, what would you do if you found a body in a wooden box in the cemetery?!
One day in 1973, a little girl named Phyllis Webstad from the Stswecem’c Xgat’tem First Nation began her first day at St. Joseph’s Residential School in Williams Lake, British Colombia, Canada. She proudly wore an orange shirt her granny gave her for this special day. Soon after she arrived at school, that shirt was removed from her. Forty years later, September 30th, 2013, she publicly shared her story for the first time and Orange Shirt Day was birthed.
Sadly, in May of this year, with the use of ground-penetrating radar, 215 unmarked graves were discovered at the former Kamloops Indian Residential School. Since then, over eighteen hundred unmarked graves have been found; children who died in Canadian residential schools.
Phyllis Webstad most likely never guessed the significance of what she began the day she nervously shared her story. Her voice is now the voice of over eighteen hundred children and the Orange Shirt Day has become Canada’s first National Day for Truth and Reconciliation.
The Government of Canada has legislated every September 30th as National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. The passing of Bill C-5 follows the 2015 TRC recommendation that Orange Shirt Day be formally recognized as a federal statutory holiday.
This day is set aside for listening deeply and holding space for the stories of the survivors. We are to reflect on changes needed to elevate the voices of our First Nations, Metis, and Inuit neighbors.
And, if you do decide to purchase an orange shirt, please do so from an Indigenous designer that gives proceeds to survivors and reconciliation work. The photo with this BLOG is of a t-shirt purchased from M’Wikwedong Indigenous Friendship Centre in Owen Sound and was designed locally.
There is a new addition to my backyard garden, a sculpture of sorts. It isn’t pretty, kind awkward if truth be told but it has a most important purpose.
It all started mid-summer when I was startled early one morning to discover a neighbor sitting rather comfortably in my backyard. To be exact she was sitting proudly by the bird feeders looking rather pleased with herself. Without hesitation I opened the back gate and made it clear she wasn’t welcome, “Be gone!” I yelled while waving my arms.
She just looked me up and down then returned to studying the bird feeders.
Again, I said, louder than the first time, “I said be gone!” and to make my point clearer I stepped closer and clapped my hands. Again, she simply ignored me. So, I picked up the hose and with one squirt made my presence hard to ignore.
She ran just far enough to be beyond the spray of water, she wasn’t going to leave easily. I then found myself chasing her down the side of the house spraying the hose wildly. Anyone looking on must have wondered what I had for breakfast that morning. In hindsight, I am now certain I heard some snickering as I rounded the house and found this neighbor back under the bird feeders. I knew this meant war!
Thing is, only a week earlier I had caught my next-door neighbor doing the exact same thing and giggled at how silly she looked. Now, I knew the nature of her yelling, running and waving of her arms.
Within a couple of days this unwelcomed neighbor returned several times. One deterrent I discovered was putting on the sprinkler; this pleased the birds and kept this unwelcomed neighbor at a distance, but my water bill was climbing.
One afternoon while weeding the flower bed under our front window this neighbor happened along, I stood up offering no words of welcome. As she walked past another neighbor crossed my lawn saying, “Her name is Buttons and she has been the terror of the neighborhood all summer.”
Terror doesn’t even come close to describe Buttons! A couple of days earlier, upon hearing yells, I looked out my front window and witnessed a woman with a rather large dog on a leash; both were being chased by Buttons down the street.
Jesus said we are to love our neighbors as ourselves but Buttons wasn’t making it easy!
So, a couple of days ago when I discovered Buttons back under my bird feeders, I knew something different was required. Now don’t get me wrong, I love cats, but Buttons is like no cat I had ever met.
Do you know that cats are the number one killers of songbirds? Well, not on my watch! This time I grabbed the hose and didn’t try to scare Buttons, but instead planned on giving her a thorough soaking.
As she darted away, I kept close pursuit and soaked her backside good. Then I devised a plan. Remembering an unused metal shepherd’s hook plant hanger in the shed, I knew what to do.
I put this shepherd’s hook in the ground positioned strategically between all the bird feeders, which happens to be about the middle of the yard and hung the hose sprayer on it. Even with the hose off, just the sight of that sprayer is enough to keep Buttons away. I watched as she rounded the garage, spied the sprayer, sized up the situation and decided to turn tail.
It would seem Buttons and I have come to an understanding.
So, standing up in my back yard is a large metal shepherd’s hook with the garden hose and sprayer poised for battle. It looks rather ridiculous but as Lord Polonius said in Hamlet, “There is method in my madness!”
Later, as my husband came through the back door from work, he just looked at me, shook his head and said, “I am not even going to ask.”
The Season of Creation has arrived! Do you know what the Season of Creation is? Just as there is the Lenten Season and the Season of Advent there is within many denominations a Season of Creation. For some denominations this Season runs from September 1st to October 4th while for others, such as the United Church of Canada it is called “Creation Time” and runs from September 12th to Thanksgiving Sunday, October 10th, 2021.
Although we may differ in the exact dates of this liturgical season we all agree on its focus; our God-given role as care takers of God’s wondrous and amazing creation. We are called to awareness, prayer and action to strengthen our response to God’s presence and glory in all creation.
And what an introduction to Creation Time we have had this past week in Grey-Bruce! Late on Tuesday afternoon darkness overtook the usual commute home which was followed by large hail stones, wicked winds and a torrential rainfall. Trees were toppled, roofs torn off, fences and sheds scattered about as if they were simply children’s toys, and hydro wires downed that would take days to repair. And, just as the Creation Story begins in the Bible, there seemed to be chaos everywhere.
This sense of chaos can leave us bewildered, exhausted and lost but that is not the end of the story; it is only the beginning! Some have asked, “Where was God in this storm?”
God was right where God always can be found, with us in healing and helpful ways.
Before this storm hit we were warned. My cell phone sounded an alarm at 4:50 p.m and again several minutes later telling me to take cover and stay still until the storm had passed. God has gifted us with those who have the knowledge of such meteorological events and the means to communicate warnings to us all. With thanks to God for such gifts no one died during this storm.
God’s presence was witnessed in those who jumped into action and began to ensure everyone’s safety. The first responders such as the police, emergency crews and the hydro workers who immediately began to fix the downed wires; the following two days the sounds of chain saws and tree shredders echoed throughout Saugeen Shores.
One way God brings order out of chaos is by using us. God created us to be the care takers of creation which includes each other. We are called to aid others, those with the knowledge provide warnings, those with means provides the funds, those who can swing a hammer help to rebuild, each of us gifted in one way or another to aid our brothers and sisters through their chaotic times.
May we all look around and see clearly the presence of our Great Creator even in the storms and seeming chaos.
Labour Day weekend is a hinge weekend; it starts in a summer frame of mind with thoughts of evening camp fires, afternoons spent at the beach and BBQ suppers. By the time Sunday evening arrives our thoughts have turned towards autumn. Over this long weekend we move from the space of bright and sunny summer days into the space of cozy yet busy days of autumn, hence why it is called a hinge weekend.
Change is in the air. As the days shorten and the evenings grow longer the Canadian Geese practice their flight formations overhead, fields of soybeans are turning into their rich autumn colours and migrating birds are gathering on the hydro wires. Teachers, school bus drivers and parents alike are strategizing the best ways possible to enter another COVID -19 school year. Meanwhile, others are plotting changes to their home décor gladly planning for cooler evenings spent by the fireplace and the donning of favorite autumn sweaters. For many it is time to turn over the vegetable garden and spend time pickling or freezing its produce.
This change cannot be stopped so it may as well be enjoyed. As Socrates wisely wrote, “The secret of change is to focus all of your energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new.” This new season guarantees to be full of God’s glory, beauty and joy if we decide to seek out all the newness and goodness being offered.
May this new season be full of hidden joys waiting for your discovery,
Stain Glass Lens of the 21st Century 