On Being a Pastor

When my wife’s friends heard that she was planning to marry a pastor, they cringed. They feared she would lose her vibrancy and relevance. In fact, I think her zest for life has made me a better pastor.

I love being a pastor. It challenges and stretches me and brings me deep joy. I would be a pastor even if nobody paid me to do it; it’s what I’m wired up to be.

The term 'pastor' comes from the world of sheep-herding, from biblical prototypes like Moses and David who made their living tending sheep and later became effective national leaders. Some pastors I know are kingdom-builders, dynamic visionaries, mobilizers and history-makers; others guide and shape souls one-by-one. Like teachers we’re largely catalysts in the God-energized growth of others.

For Such a Time as This

When Queen Esther got the news she was stunned. An edict of genocide against your race will do that. A nation-wide holocaust was scheduled, but she was powerless to do anything about it. Or so she thought.

She was a woman in a man’s world, a world with strict laws against interfering with government policies. She may have been called Queen, but barging into the imperial court was punishable by death. Asking questions about tyranny was equally off-limits. The women of the harem of the court of King Ahasuerus were pretty playthings in this no-nonsense political world. And the King had not called to play with her for over a month.

Like many of us, the first thing Esther saw in this crisis was her own powerlessness.

Dew in the Diaspora

It was misty when my wife and I went for our early morning run, but before we had even left our yard we were arrested by an extraordinary beauty. During the night spiders had woven nets from every bush and railing they could find – and captured the dew in necklaces that sparkled like diamonds in the early morning sun.

For half an hour photography trumped exercise, but when I got running I got thinking about what the prophet Micah wrote about the dew in Micah Ch. 5.

Micah lived in a harsh dog-eat-dog world where wealthy land-owners were devouring their poor neighbors. He saw beyond the injustices and the grim exile that it would bring about. He foresaw a ruler who will come forth from the same obscure village where king David was born (Micah 5:2). He will shepherd Israel like a flock, protecting them from both aggressors and from their own aggressiveness. They will be a ‘remnant’, ‘a purged and select company’ (v.7 MSG) who ‘will live among the nations like dew from the LORD, like showers on the grass.’ (Micah 5:7)

Three Things that Amaze – No, Make that Four!

Near the end of a book written to teach us wisdom, comes a portrait of four things that can leave you in awe. Proverbs 30:18-19 says,

There are three things that amaze me—

no, four things that I don’t understand:

how an eagle glides through the sky,

how a snake slithers on a rock,

how a ship navigates the ocean,

how a man loves a woman.

Geo-Thermal Springs

Among the many wonders of Icelandic waters I experienced the past ten days – glaciers, geysers, waterfalls, rivers and ocean, the one that caught me most by surprise was the geo-thermal springs.

It is a strange sight to behold. Hiking in the hills and seeing steam rising from a hole in the ground. A pungent sulphurous odor pours out with the steam. A few meters away, another steam vent, and on up the mountain, pools of bubbling boiling water or mud – and three kilometers further up the chilly valley between mountains, the reward of a hot-water river with pools that invite leisurely bathing.

To Infinity and Beyond

Yesterday we had a brush with infinity. My wife and I were hiking along the Skógá River above Skogafoss, one of Iceland’s most striking waterfalls.

The falls are post-card perfect – an impressive 60 meter sheer drop (higher than Niagara) into a thundering pool (often with a double rainbow effect). The rugged rocks on either side and the jet-black sand on the flat plain along the river below the falls give a dramatic framing. No wonder legends of buried Viking gold grew up around this place; no wonder tourists shoot a zillion photos.

Climbing 380 steps to see the falls from above drew us into an adventure of discovery. A stile over a fence at the top beckoned us further up and further in. Little did we know the wonders that awaited.

Unruly Child

Imagine a womb large enough to hold the oceans of the world until it was time for them 'to burst forth from the womb'!  That is the bizarre but graphic image God uses in The Book of Job in speaking of the birth of creation.

Then, expanding on the birth metaphor, God describes wrapping the new-born Sea-child as a mother swaddles an infant: 'I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness.' 

Imagine thick ocean fog - Who can see through it? Who can see beyond the horizon or penetrate the silence of all that lies in the deep darkness of the sea? What a rich metaphor for the mystery of the oceans, their vast distances, beyond our sight and knowledge!

Listen Up!

If only Peter could capture the magic of this moment. Jesus had brought them up on this mountain to give them new perspective – and what a sight opened up in front of them!

Peter had often seen Jesus deep in prayer, but this time, without explanation, Jesus’ appearance began glistening with sunlight. Lightning lingered about his face, searing light. Ancient history came to life before their eyes as Moses and Elijah emerged out of thin air and joined the conversation.

Unaccustomed to paranormal things, Peter quivered with perplexity and dismay. He always felt more comfortable when he was at the center of things and influencing outcomes. Instinctively he grasped for something he could do or some way he could contribute to the discussion. His mind engineered tents of hospitality and he proposed his plan.

Mere Mortals Walking on Water

Three Gospel writers tell about Jesus walking on water in the midst of a wild storm, but only Matthew tells us about Peter’s wild response. “Jesus, if it really is you, tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” says Jesus.

'Come' is one of Jesus’ favorite words – part invitation, part summons – and always a call to do something that feels risky, to step out of our comfort zone and our places of pseudo-security and to trust him.

Walking on water is counter-intuitive. 'Terra firma' is home for us. A boat is a constructed extension of home, canoes and kayaks give us both buoyancy and adventure, but stepping out alone onto the deep at the invitation of Jesus is an act of daring faith.

So imagine the drama as Peter vaulted the gunwales to join Jesus out on the lake. Imagine the warnings of his friends – “Pete, you’re an idiot!” “Don’t be so reckless!” Imagine the shaking heads, the held breath, and then cheers as he stepped forward on solid water.

Peter mirrors us in our finest moments of courage and faith when we throw caution to the wind, when we take the plunge towards God, mere mortals attempting the impossible.

Swimming Home

Last week I wrote about Ezekiel’s vision of a New World Comin’. Today my sister, Kathy Legg who lives in Lethbridge, Alberta, writes about her thoughts of that extraordinary vision in Ezekiel 47.

Picture this: You’re in a foreign land, a lush and lovely place, prosperous, sophisticated. But it’s not your true home, and to the locals you’re an anomaly, subject to ridicule. You believe in an unseen God. You long to worship openly without the risk you’ll antagonize someone. You try to fit in but it leaves you feeling soul-weary and fragmented. You want to go home. But you can’t -- you’re captive here. Will you ever see home again?

Radical Equality

Here’s a wonder of water – sunrise and rainfall support democracy!

Your Father in heaven causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. Matthew 5:45

Jesus says that God is a large-hearted, even-handed Giver. He points out that God is generous to us regardless of our degree of virtue or vice. Sunshine and rain are gifts from the Creator to his creatures with no moral pre-conditions. Jesus echoed the Psalmist a thousand years earlier who said “The Lord is good to all; he has compassion on all that he has made.” Psalm 145:9.

Engulfed

It is the darkest psalm in the Bible, anguished from start to finish. God is hidden and silent; the singer is terrified, abandoned, engulfed by despair.

Your terrors surround me like a flood;

they have completely engulfed me.

You have taken my companions and loved ones from me;

darkness is my closest friend.

Psalm 88:14-18

Like being lost at sea in thick fog, these deep-water terrors describe clinical depression - an ordeal of extreme mental suffering and hopelessness.

We might wonder what a poem like this is doing in a book of faith like the Bible.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

Water is nature’s first mirror. It reflects mountains, trees and sky

to create some of creation's most evocative art. 


Water photo-copies the reality around it and mirrors it back to us with fresh perspective and insight.

In Aesop’s fable, a dog with a bone sees his reflection in the river; greedy for the bone in that other dog’s mouth, the dog barks – and his bone drops into the river. It's not just a story about dumb dogs, it’s a cautionary tale about human greed.

The classics also tell about Narcissus who fell in love with his own image in water and became incapable of loving anyone else – a warning about the paralysis of vanity and self-absorption.

Buried Alive - Almost!

Photo Courtesy of BBC News

In honor of 33 Chile miners and their families . . .

As one man after another emerged from a shaft in the dark earth and embraced his loved ones, we all choked back tears of joy.

Trapped so deep under bed-rock and then, against all hope, plucked from the grave - it must seem for them like being resurrected from death.

"Deep calls to deep", the poet wrote. Something deep within us connected us to these men and their families - the drama of rescue, the relief of not being buried alive. But there is something more. The human soul is a deep and mysterious like a gold-mine or a deep-water aquifer.

Tipping Point

Hurricane Igor slammed into Newfoundland this week with ferocious winds and rain.

They saw it coming but were powerless to stop it or steer it out to sea.

An 80 year old man was swept away in the flood along with bridges, roads and homes.

We wonder. . . and we ask Why?

Job and his friends wore themselves out pondering the 'Why?' question. Sometimes our best explanations don’t fit.
Eventually God steps into their conversation and asks more questions:

Clouds

It’s overcast and rainy today; the sky is gray.

But last week under a clear sky and the setting sun, I watched magnificent clouds for half an hour. They curled and curved under the flow of wind and shifted through red, violet and purple shades.

Nature’s poetry in motion.

I remember last year flying through a lightening storm over the Appalachians, as electricity forked from one cloud to another, lighting up the sky in an exhilarating display of power and surprise.