Lessons from Travel

For a guy who grew up in a rural community of 500 (on a good day when no one had died), I have traveled a fair amount.  And I have learned from many of the experiences.  Some of those gleanings have been cultural or gustatory.  Some have been for me, and others, cautionary tales.  

Usually in an effort to save money (or do it on the cheap, depending on how you want to express it), I have found myself in interesting circumstances.   Outside an SNCF* stop (do not imagine anything close to a "station" as you read this) at 1:00 am at an abandoned taxi stand knowing that the only way I was getting a cab was if Jesus sent one.  (He did.)  Or sleeping with my luggage on the sidewalk at 2:00 am at the domestic airport in Delhi waiting among the slumbering Indians for my 6:30 flight to Bangalore.  Lesson: if you must be cheap, do it earlier in the day so you have time to find other options in case your brilliant idea isn't.

One other lesson I've learned is that you will not be able to find later the particular trinket or memento that you have in your hand right now.  This charming little shop is not as easy to find as you think.  The only reason you found it first is because it was on the way to somewhere else.  And you now forget the somewhere else. Or it wasn't even in the town you thought it was in. Or perhaps the shop itself has been physically assumed into heaven.  There are a hundred reasons to seize the opportunity while you have it.

It is not only when traveling that we assume there will be another, maybe better, opportunity to do the thing that presents itself to us right now.  I am ceaselessly optimistic.  Or ceaselessly procrastinating.

Francis Thompson, 19th Century English poet, wrote The Hound of Heaven.  In it a hare recounts his efforts to avoid the hound, who is God.  The poem recounts the experience of being sought by God and  our attempts to avoid his pursuit.  I have always like the image of God who relentlessly pursues us.  It reminds me of the father of the prodigal son in Jesus' parable.  And of God's continued pursuit of the people of Israel throughout the Old Testament.  It is comforting to know that he seeks us.

But here I come to the other side of this relationship.  Not his seeking of us but ours of him.  The scriptures continually exhort us to seek the Lord.**  But there is a good time to seek the Lord.

"Seek the Lord while he may be found;
call upon him while he is near;
let the wicked forsake his way,
and the unrighteous man his thoughts;
let him return to the Lord, that he may have compassion on him,
and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon."
(Isaiah 55:6-7)

Seek the Lord while he may be found.  He cannot always be found, it seems.  We ceaseless optimists and procrastinators should take note.  In this he is not unlike the above mentioned charming little shop.   He may not be obviously found later.  I am slightly disturbed by this notion.  Surely God can always be found if we will but look.  I'd like to think that, but here the Scriptures tell us something different.  We read it here in Isaiah but also in Paul's second letter to the Corinthians:

"Working together with him, then, we appeal to you not to receive the grace of God in vain. For he says,
'In a favorable time I listened to you,
and in a day of salvation I have helped you.'
Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation."
(2 Corinthians 6:1-2 ESV)

There are opportunities to respond to God, to trust him, to live in obedience to him, which have an expiry date.  That does not necessarily mean that there will be no such opportunity in the future.  But it does mean that THIS one will not present itself again.

You might find what you are looking for again if you go back looking.  But you might not.  With God, now is the favorable time.  Now is the day of salvation.


*Société Nationale des Chemins de Fer - France's (better) version of Amtrak or Via Rail.
** Some examples: Deuteronomy 4:29, I Chronicles 16:11, Isaiah 55:6, Proverbs 8:17, Jeremiah 29:13, Matthew 6:33

Functional heresy

When I worked at GE, for a while one of my teams was based in the Netherlands.  This is an aside but have you ever thought how onomastically greedy this nation is?  It might be called the Netherlands as mentioned above or perhaps Holland and its people are known as the Dutch.  I come from the proper-name impoverished country of Canada and only have one proper name to call my own  (and "Canadian" -- the same word again).  But this is not a critique of that fine European nation.  I'll get back to my tale.

One of the interesting things about managing the team in Holland was that there appeared to be a statutory holiday for all the Dutch (there, I've used all three) about every week.  At least it seemed that way.  One time when there was some deadline about which I was nervous, my anxiety became higher when I discovered that the Monday coming was a holiday.  The team manager there told me it was Pentecost and, knowing that I came from across the pond and would likely have no idea what that was, proceeded to tell me that it was when the Holy Spirit came down on the Church.

It is somewhat ironic the European, from that pagan continent (at least by reputation), felt the need to tell the guy living in the "one nation under God" what the holiday was.  I am happy to report that I knew the feast before I received the unnecessary but much appreciated elucidation.

But how many of us do know that Sunday -- this Sunday coming -- is Pentecost?  And why might we care?  I have in this space previously expressed my appreciation of the pedagogical and devotional value of paying attention to the Church calendar - its feasts and seasons.  And it's not because such observance is necessary or required, but because I find it helpful.

The yearly observance of Pentecost is particularly helpful because it is really the only feast day that is dedicated to the third person of the Trinity, namely the Holy Spirit.  This is where I get to the "why I might care part."

The work of the Father as Creator is pretty clearly understood.  The atoning and redemptive work of Jesus, the Son, is also quite clear - it is perhaps the thing we talk and teach about most.  And rightly so. But what about the Holy Spirit?  What does He do?  And why does He matter?

Number one on my incredibly short list of why He matters is that He is God.  Christians have through the centuries affirmed the mystery of the Trinity, three Persons, one God.  The Athanasian Creed (the poor cousin of the more prominent Apostles' and Nicene Creeds) says this:

And the catholic faith is this: That we worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity; Neither confusing the Persons; nor dividing the Essence... So the Father is God; the Son is God; and the Holy Spirit is God. (emphasis mine)

It is not that we don't intellectually acknowledge this truth.  Whenever we say the more prominent Creeds we acknowledge this.  But practically, in our life, worship and devotion, do we pay any attention to the Paraclete?

Many years ago now, I came to the shocking realization that I was a functional Binitarian.  The Father I  understood (albeit imperfectly), and similarly the Son.  And more to the point, I trusted the Father and the Son.  The Holy Spirit, not so much.  This was perhaps because I was turned off by enthusiastically charismatic Christians and decided to avoid the whole matter of the Person and work of the Spirit.  My way seemed so much more "decent and in order."

This brings me to a quick digression.  It is so easy for us to use the excuse of the bad witness of nutty charismatic or hard judgmental Christians (or some other flavor distasteful to us) to stay in our comfortable place where we need not seriously consider God's call and claim on our life.  And it is an excuse.  When I give account of myself one day before the only One who is worthy to judge, I'm not sure that "those Christians were crazy or harsh or narrow-minded or unintellectual" will fly.  His response to me might be, "And your point is?"  God's call to us is exactly that -- God's call.

So back to being the functionally heretical Binitarian.  When I came to this realization, there was only one course of action.  Repentance.  "Lord God, I do not trust you.  Forgive me."  There is no prettier way of saying it than that.

I am happy to live as an now both intellectually and functionally orthodox Christian, giving praise to God the Father, Creator of heaven and earth and to God the Son, Jesus, Redeemer and to God the Holy Spirit, Advocate, Comforter, Gift-giver, Sanctifier, Truth-teller.

Whenever I feel afraid

My wife, Tamara, did her undergraduate degree at the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design (NSCAD, or "Nasscad" as it is more familiarly known).  There is a gallery associated with it called The Anna Leonowens Gallery.  Mrs. Leonowens was a founder of the college in 1887 (although it was then named the Victoria College of Art and Design after the famous queen of that name).  This, I am sure you would think, is accomplishment enough for one life.  But not so for Mrs. Leonowens.  She lived in Halifax (Nova Scotia) after her Asian travels during which she spent some time at the royal court of Siam.  It was that gig that made her the inspiration for the musical The King and I. 

What I remember from the musical is, well, the music.  And Yul Brynner's bald head.  "Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera" also springs back to mind.  But back to the music.  One of the peppy little numbers is "I Whistle a Happy Tune."  Here's a sample of the lyrics:

Whenever I feel afraid
I hold my head erect
And whistle a happy tune
So no one will suspect
I'm afraid.

While shivering in my shoes
I strike a careless pose
And whistle a happy tune
And no one ever knows
I'm afraid.

I cannot comment on whether this is an effective foil for fear as neither whistling nor "tune" are my strong points.  But I was reminded of this song while reading Psalm 56 this week.  The psalmist, like Anna, feels afraid.  He is trampled, oppressed and attacked.  Sadly, he did not have access to Deborah Kerr singing the above number so he takes another tack.

When I am afraid
I put my trust in you.
In God I trust; I shall not be afraid.
What can flesh do to me?
(Psalm 56:3-4, ESV)

No disrespect meant to Rodgers and Hammerstein, but I think the psalmist has a better plan. Much in our lives is beyond our control.  This invokes fear.  Much is unknown - such as everything that is going to happen to me from this point on, forever.   That may qualify as more than "much."  We feel afraid.  At times we are threatened or in actual peril.  The fear part we can't avoid.

But when I feel afraid, whistle a happy tune?  As cheering as it may be, the tune is not Good, True, Loving and Sovereign.  God is.

The collect for peace in the Book of Common Prayer prays it this way (emphasis mine):

O God who art the author of peace and lover of concord, in knowledge of whom stands our eternal life, whose service is perfect freedom: Defend us, thy humble servants, in all assaults of our enemies; that we, surely trusting in thy defense, may not fear the power of any adversaries; through the might of Jesus Christ our Lord.  

In God I trust, what can flesh do to me?

What indeed.