... and the art of bicycle maintenance

the idea of the superhero has been a rich part of our cultural backdrop since before people were writing history down. cave paintings depict a coming together of worlds- great hunts involving great hunters. the timeless conflict in art and literature has been over whether it is more valuable, indeed more human, to depict that which is in the natural world or to depict that which could exist within the realm of the supernatural.

the monty python sketch Bicycle Repairman is sublime. in it we find a world of superheroes, all dressed like superman, living everyday lives through commonplace experiences: waiting patiently at the laundromat, taking the bus to the office, badly repairing potholes in the road, riding bicycles. yet when one particularly poor bicycle rider goes careening into a fence and wrecks his bike, none of his superpowers will save him.

he needs a new kind of hero- one who may not be able to fly or see through walls with x-ray vision, but who is gifted with deep insight into the principles governing how bikes work.

1 Corinthians 12.14-31 is the classic spiritual gifts passage, likening people and their respective giftings to basic body parts, reminding us that we are not to look down upon others because of their lack of expertise and giftedness in our areas of strength and blessing. however, upon closer look, there is a message at the beginning that is often overlooked...

Now the body is not made up of one part but of many. If the foot should say, "Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body," it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. And if the ear should say, "Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body," it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body.

see, many of us are terribly good at missing the affirmation here. we think that because we don't play an instrument or pray well in public or possess the unique ability to motivate 13 year-olds to actually read their bibles, our role in the church is probably somehow secondary.

yet in the world of supermen, the humble servant diligently using his gifts is the hero… regular people have within themselves the capacity to be instrumental in the realization of God’s redemption dream. could it be that we are all unwittingly superheroic, having been entrusted with gifts and endowments granted by God’s grace and mercy, and equipped and empowered to employ these gifts in a life-changing work, that we would see with our own eyes the day of the Lord?

perhaps our identity issues arise from growing up in smallville- a place where nothing amazing ever happens- a place where our true self is denied expression to the point where we forget who we truly are? perhaps we deny our superheroism- diminish it and understate it, rendering it fruitless by our own volition to the point where we no longer see our role in the work God intends to do here?

What are the characteristics of Clark Kent?

He’s weak… he’s unsure of himself… he’s a coward.

Clark Kent is superman’s critique on the whole human race.

(Quentin Tarantino)

contemporary christian recording artist michael w. smith put the proverbial question of existence into words and music, effectively deconstructing the loaded "why am i here?" question into something so familiar to so many that it became a hit crossover single on secular radio in the early 90's...

The wind is moving but I am standing still
A life of pages waiting to be filled
A heart that's hopeful- a head that's full of dreams
But this becoming is harder than it seems
Feels like I’m looking for a reason
Roaming through the night to find my place in this world
My place in this world
Not a lot to lean on
I need your light to help me find my place in this world
My place in this world

If there are millions down on their knees
Among the many, can you still hear me
Hear me asking where do I belong
Is there a vision that I can call my own
Show me… (Michael W Smith)

the quest begins with the questions. through them, God is given voice to speak in response… speaking our role in his work back into us, calling us into active service and reminding us of the things we’ve always known…

not tonight, darling

in the secret
in the quiet place
in the stillness you are there
in the secret
in the quiet hour i wait only for you
i want to know you more

i am reaching
for the highest goal
that i might receive the prize
pressing onward
pushing every hindrance aside out of my way
i want to know you more

open the eyes of my heart, Lord
open the eyes of my heart
i want to see you
i want to see you

see you high and lifted up
shining in the light of your glory
pour out your power and love
as we sing 'holy holy holy'

i want to know you
i want to hear your voice
i want to know you more
i want to touch you
i want to see your face
i want to know you more

holy holy holy
holy holy holy
holy holy holy
i want to see you...
(andy parks/ paul baloche respectively)

we need to be careful what we ask for, lest we get where God will open our eyes… we invite God to come and manifest himself when we join the elders, the angels and the heavenly creatures in singing “Holy Holy Holy”…

BUT when we sing this- when God may well intend to respond to our prayerful call/cry for vision and insight- we check our watches and start to get our stuff together so that we can do whatever it is that we’ve planned to do next…

what if, on this day, God said:

I want to pour vision and insight- my word and manifest presence- into this place to ready you for a work that I intend to do through you in this community, this city, this province, this country and to the ends of the earth…

Wait- where are you going? Don’t you want to see me? Don’t you want to hear my voice, touch my face, all like you said?

What do you mean ‘that was just a song?’

in the movie 'the notebook', james garner's character, noah, reads a love story to this elderly woman (played by gena rowlands) named allie that he regularly visits in a hospice. as the story of two young lovers progresses, the audience begins to pick up hints as to the identities of the characters in the story: the young man and the young woman in the story are noah and allie long before a debilitating mental illness claimed huge portions of allie's memory and personality. he reads to this stranger in hopes of calling back to himself, if only for a few minutes, the girl he fell in love with and has been with for decades. he reads the love story to call her back to her true identity and their mutual love. he reads and hopes.

near the end of the film, the veil falls and the recognition in her eyes and the warmth in her voice authenticates the transformation. she asks him how long they have (for she is, in the moments of lucidity, aware of her condition) and he confesses that the last time she returned it was only for five minutes.

all that hope and tireless perseverence and waiting for five minutes?

five minutes of what?

of true intimacy

of things being the way they were meant to be.

of relationship restored

of paradise regained

as heart wrenching as it seems, it appears as though five minutes of these things is worth it all...

they put some music on (irving kahal's I'll be seeing you) and dance together, sharing sweet words of love and intimacy, but when she starts to dream and to plan for a future, he cautiously says 'not tonight, darling'

but she's already gone. the time counter on the player says we're at about three minutes this time. his heart breaks yet again, and with it, the hearts of the audience watching the film.

i suspect this is a poignant enactment of something that takes place unendingly between God and his beloved- us. God moves closer and we, in a moment of lucidity recognize his face, giving both ourselves and God a taste of what once was; what was always meant to be; what can't really take place again until death from our fallenness reunites us forever.

and God's heart breaks again and again as he whispers 'not tonight, darling' while i'll be seeing you plays in the background. someday it will be different. someday it will be forever.

but until then, God keeps visiting, inviting us to remember by reading us an unending love story until that day when all the veils fall and the light and freedom of the eternal now replaces the shadows of this temporal causality cage that is life just east of eden.

I'll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through.

In that small cafe;
The park across the way;
The children's carousel;
The chestnut trees;
The wishin' well.

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day;
In every thing that's light and gay.
I'll always think of you that way.

I'll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I'll be looking at the moon,
But I'll be seeing you.

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day;
In every thing that's light and gay.
I'll always think of you that way.

I'll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I'll be looking at the moon,
But I'll be seeing you.
(irving kahal)

metaphors, myths and merry go rounds

nothing gets our attention like a good storm.

God often uses symbols and metaphors- things like storms and floods and such- to communicate with people. The problem with speaking in metaphors and symbols is that people don’t always get them right away… and yet, if God were to come out shooting straight with humankind, one of two things might happen:

a) heads explode while bodies are consumed by holy fire.
b) people would simply get used to God
(perhaps this familiarity is what caused the rebellion back in Eden)

see, God knows his created well enough to know that he must temper his revelation, lest we become so familiar with the stuff of the mysteries of God that God’s presence and revelation no longer matter to us… they become the feeling of life and are dismissed in the same way that clean air, fresh water and savory food no longer cause us to pause and be thankful..

in the regular things, we regularly fail to grasp the deeper meaning. we miss the poetry of God. falling back upon our need for literal meanings and empirical reasoning.

but nothing gets our attention like a good storm.

my son tells a story of a kid that he went to school with in the early grades. his name was leroy.

leroy was a thrill seeker and was prone to try anything, especially if there was sufficient adrenaline rush involved. as a ten-year old, he had already discovered the correlation between personal danger and social esteem, and had become somewhat of a folk hero among the fifth graders. however, his greatest feat was still ahead of him...

until the day of the big storm when leroy's social status was elevated from folk hero to local legend.

it was a beautiful, sunny saskatchewan day in the late spring. however, as is true of most beautiful sunny saskatchewan days in late spring, the wind picked and and started to take over everything. as clouds began to gather and darken and the ubiquitous wind rose to sculpt them in real time, everyone on the playground was running for shelter and safety. leroy, however, turned and ran right back through the wind to the dustiest spot on the playground.

where he ran in circles.

faster and faster he ran, kicking up a tremendous amount of dust until he was barely visible at all to his schoolmates, all watching the spectacle from safely inside the building.

but amidst the dust and the wind and the circular run, something strange began to happen...

now years later, the kids, all much older and more sophisticated, reflect upon the scientific possibility of it all and the realization that some stories do grow in the telling. however, on that day and for a long time afterward, the only fitting assessment of what they had all witnessed was that

that was the day that leroy started the tornado.

seeing something happening and participating in it
rather than fleeing from it…

what if one were able to measure the movement of the wind and build a merry go round right at the centre of where a storm were to touch down? what a ride that would be!
hmm...

Q: what do we do when we hear that God is moving?
A: head for the storm cellar?
A: go out and play in it- embracing it and being embraced by it, participating in the stories of God that people will tell for decades, maybe even centuries…?

window weather: this is another sunny day,
but i can't help noticing that the wind is picking up...

*youtube convergence credits: visuals from the wizard of oz and audio from great gig in the sky (pink floyd)... speaking of playing with serendipity, if you watch wizard of oz, having cued pink floyd's dark side of the moon cd on the third roar of the MGM lion at the beginning, you will experience one of the most interesting aesthetic coincedences ever discovered...

jones drove the train

the first record bought with my own money wasn’t a cool one…it was a ktel compilation of novelty songs from the late 50's and early 60's called Looney Tunes that would still find favour among Mad magazine reading 12 year-olds in the 70's. being that i fit the demographic targetted by the marketing strategies employed (there was a silly commercial with bad animation that offered cartoon exerpts of a few of the songs, making them seem far more brilliantly satirical and emotionally satisfying than they actually were) i rushed down to the closest retail store and bought my own copy full price. on it was along came jones- a song of considerable melodrama performed by a group called the coasters... not the craziest song on the record, but perhaps the most spiritually meaningful.

mel·o·dra·ma

1.	a dramatic form that does not observe the laws of cause and effect and that exaggerates emotion and emphasizes plot or action at the expense of characterization.

(huge thanks, as usual, to www.dictionary.com and www.biblegateway.com)

sometimes, in our desire to understand and summarize a lesson in scripture, we can reduce it to the level of melodrama…the depth of God’s desire to redeem his own, the crowned of creation, from an agreed-upon autonomous existence hell-bent on self-destruction can often come off as a simple white-hat versus black-hat cartoon.

and then he grabbed her! (and then?)
he tied her up! (and then?)
he threw her on the railroad track! (and then?)
a train started coming! (and then? and then?)

and then along came jones...

now, describing placing black hats and white hats upon real-life characters caught in a day to day existence on fallen planet earth is trickier than writing a simple plot with simple characters and putting it to music...

nothing is ever simple or tidy.

and yet scripture bears witness to the following through of God’s promises to remain involved. God promises a restoration of all things, and then takes humanity through a series of successive approximations, revealing in holy moments, glimpses of his glory; offering hope for the future of this fallen race in God’s bigger picture.

exodus 19.9-11, 16-20
2 chronicles 5.11-14
isaiah 6.1-8
acts 2.1-6
joel 2.28-32

at the end of his second chapter, the prophet joel describes 'day of the Lord' and in this description we read of an incredible deliverance that is promised to 'everyone who calls on the name of the Lord.' the UK band delirious reflects upon this to some degree in a song of theirs called God's Romance which has a rather catchy and intriguing chorus:

Everyone here is the kingdom come
Here is the God who saves the day
And we will gladly run into the glorious Son
Singing that Jesus is alive

what i find so engaging about this lyric is the melodramatic, saturday morning superhero phrase: the God who saves the day.

being that we read the phrase 'the day of the Lord' so often in scripture to describe a time when, according to Gospel.com, "God will make his creation whole again and destroy evil," i find the melodrama of the God who saves the day accessible and attractive.

having watched too much tv as a kid, i remember the song along came jones being most poignantly enacted on the old irish rovers tv show…

in it, jones drove the train.

I don't care about economy, I don't care about astronomy
But it sure do bother me to see my loved ones turning into puppets
There's slow, slow train coming up around the bend. (Bob Dylan)

from the summit of my father's mountain

Then they said, "Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves and not be scattered over the face of the whole earth." (Genesis 11.4)

zig·gu·rat

(among the ancient Babylonians and Assyrians) a temple of Sumerian origin in the form of a pyramidal tower, consisting of a number of stories and having about the outside a broad ascent winding round the structure, presenting the appearance of a series of terraces.

in my home town there is a ziggurat of sorts. upon a hill that is dangerously close to the local airport there is a beacon. this hill has trails that encircle the thing like the terraces on the ziggurati, allowing climbers young and old to take a one hour round trip hike to the summit and back. kids in gym class at the nearby high school regularly ascend this thing for credit, as do my 70 year-old parents, not so much for any credit as simply to stay agile and 'young.'

on holiday recently, i decided to ascend the ziggurat and talk to God about a couple things that were on my mind. now when the babylonians presumed to simply knock on heaven's door uninvited, God made it very clear that relationship with God had to be on God's terms. God treated me gently, but surprised me by doing all the talking when i climbed up to see him that warm day in july, 2008. honestly, i can't even remember what i was going to bring up for discussion. all i remember is what God taught me as i journalled at the summit:

***

the path:

others have gone before me. i can vaguely see their footprints. so much comes down to which path- which set of footprints i choose to follow.

my parents say it is a one-hour round trip to climb this hill... but they go the nice, well-travelled, gentle slope. so i'm thinking :

i'm way younger- i can go directly up the mountain- there is evidence all over it that others have done it and i'll make quick work of this thing... did i mention i'm way younger?

so i set out clambering frantically up the steep slope, scurrying over the scree, sweating grasping and gasping; pausing with trembling legs and burning lungs. i see the mountain pather running almost parallel to mine, but getting onto it would require descending a bit and i'm just too stubborn (that's the easy road) and i continue on my frantic own way.

eventually the gentle path meets mine and i conclude my morning climb leisurely... arriving at the summit at almost exactly forty-five minutes' climb. i save myself no time, but get a better workout, i suppose.

question is, at age seventy-four will i be interested in a better workout? will i be able to maintain this pace over the long haul or will mountain walks go the way of running marathons, swimming laps and pushing weights in the basement?

oh to be a long distance runner instead of a sprinter.

respect the river
respect the rock

God has given you dominion but there are things in your domain that will take you if you fail to afford them the proper respect. remember that they are partners with God in that they have been here since long before you and will remain long after. remember that flippant disregard of their awesomeness will result in pain and potentially even death in consequence...

lessons about God to be learned everywhere...

***

The earth is the LORD's, and everything in it,
the world, and all who live in it;

for he founded it upon the seas
and established it upon the waters.

Who may ascend the hill of the LORD ?
Who may stand in his holy place?

He who has clean hands and a pure heart,
who does not lift up his soul to an idol
or swear by what is false.

He will receive blessing from the LORD
and vindication from God his Savior.

Such is the generation of those who seek him,
who seek your face, O God of Jacob.

Lift up your heads, O you gates;
be lifted up, you ancient doors,
that the King of glory may come in.

Who is this King of glory?
The LORD strong and mighty,
the LORD mighty in battle.

Lift up your heads, O you gates;
lift them up, you ancient doors,
that the King of glory may come in.

Who is he, this King of glory? The LORD Almighty—
he is the King of glory.
(Psalm 24)

the challenges invite, in us, a sense of humility in the light of God’s revealed Word. however, we have an important role in this education, this initiation…

we need to be paying attention.

praying with our feet

open up the doors and let the music play
let the streets resound with singing
songs that bring your hope
songs that bring your joy
dancers who dance upon injustice
((m. smith/ s. garrard, circa 1994)

years ago i had a conversation with a pastor who disagreed with singing the words above in church gatherings because he contended that no one knew what dancing upon injustice was, so why would we invite people to sing words they couldn't embrace?

one could probably say this about pretty much any congregational song, not because of the inaccessibility of the songs but because the more heterogenous the group of people, the greater the likelihood that someone is there who doesn't have a clue... however, perhaps it's the job of everyone else (as per 1 corinthians 14.24-25) to worship so intentionally, so meaningfully that the individuals in their midst who are exploring the faith are challenged to look closer and ask questions.

but what does it mean to dance upon injustice?

a friend of mine used this phrase "praying with our feet' on another blog to attempt to explain the meaning of a smudge walk. nice- occurs to me we should all be doing this more.

joining with our community in a smudge walk, i prayed with my feet this week.

for me, the most impactive moment in the day took place before the walking even began. to hear a father who had lost his son to gang violence speaking words of peace just days before the one year anniversary of his family's great loss was astonishing. to hear him confess that, while his healing journey had not yet taken him to the point where he was able to forgive...

1) he trusts Creator to bring justice and comfort and

2) refuses to vengefully raise his own hand against another son of another and

3) extols all of his friends and family to do the same- i was deeply moved. romans 12.19 came to mind.

and in this moment, i pondered the cost of peace, checking my own balance in the grace column and wondering if, were i to be in this man's shoes, the cheques i wrote with my mouth might all come up NSF in my heart.

i mean, i get so wound up and passionately intense about things that are really very little of a big deal.

example: at the international tattoo celebration (not what we typically think of when we read the word 'tattoo'... google 'saskatchewan international tattoo festival' for more conext) there was a hoop dancer performing for the crowd. surrounding him were dancers fancy dancing and all of this was accompanied by a band of singers and the drum. awesome. stole the show.

but during the intermission, a guy who had been sitting in front of me turned to me and asked 'so what do you think?'

and i, being an idiot in many ways, told him. i reflected upon how magnificent i felt that this portion of the show was...

(tangent: but left out the bit where i was moved to tears by the moment in the show when all these other cultures with their ring-around-the-rosey dances poured onto the floor taking up all the space that had been so luxuriously occupied by the hoop dancer and his troupe until there was just this mass of people all crowding together waving their hands in the air, pressing in and affording the dancers and the drum no room to do anything but stand... now i know we like to celebrate canada as a diverse mosaic and all, but this portion of the show illustrated the cost of our culturally diverse canadian identity. perhaps this is what an aboriginal friend of mine meant on msn last week when he confessed to not actually feeling 'canadian' at all)

... and how it seemed like this performance had owned the room. to this, the guy began to go on and on about how the men around the drum weren't wearing 'ceremonial costumes' and how it looked as though they 'didn't even care enough to dress up' for this show.

there are two things that challenge my grace reserves with limbic system precision: 'rednecks' and the 'religious right.'

so i was in it now and i knew there was no way out because i was all emotionally involved and yet was trying very hard to speak words of peace, not violence, recognizing all the while the bitter taste of argument rising up like bile in the back of my throat.

it didn't help that i love the sound of the singing and the drum- always have. it didn't help that just earlier that day i had been attending the regina version of 'national aboriginal day of action' at the legislative building and had been served a satisfying dose of drum band singing already. it didn't help that i have issues with people imposing their views upon others as to what to wear and what is appropriate in any cultural context- much less contexts that the opinionated may or may not understand deeply enough to offer their 'direction.'

so i pushed back, challenging this guy with the idea that perhaps this was that chosen 'uniform' for the guys playing the drum. i invited him to look at the orchestra and note that those in the orchestra were dressed neither uniformly, nor in culturally distinctive colours and patterns- that they were dressed as people in an orchestra 'should dress' for an event like this... bla bla bla- who cares?

my wife just rolled her eyes and went to buy a coke for our son. no guilt by association here! ha ha.

now take this ridiculous situation and line it up beside the experience of this father whose home had been broken into and whose son had been killed while sleeping... suddenly all that other stuff feels like far too much about far too little.

we read paul's words in ephesians 6.15 about having our feet shod with readiness to walk the gospel of peace.

we sing about dancers dancing upon injustice in a song called 'did you feel the mountains tremble?'

praying with our feet indeed.

public service announcement

now typically, this blog has leftover sermon notes and youtube clips to illustrate them in the interest of continuing the dialogue that begins on sunday mornings.

however, it's not really fair to say that anything is 'typical' when there has not been a post in over two months...

in explanation, the 8 week series 7 Habits for Highly Reflective Families that we did on sundays wasn't really the kind of thing that i post. for the real continued dialogue, there are three things one should do:

1) buy stephen covey's book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Families, and read it

2) read the narratives of the patriarchs (abraham, isaac, jacob, joseph) found in genesis 12-48,

3) talk about the connections between these 'less than perfect' families portrayed in scripture and the ideas put forth in covey's book with someone else who may or may not have read them...

that's what i did! ha ha