Pastor’s Pen
Got Bears, Get Bungees
Dear Friends,
Great excitement visited our breakfast table this morning, not because of what was in the children’s bowls, instead, it was the mess strewn garden that lay outside our kitchen window. The lawn had served as our local bear’s dining table and his grocery store was our trash bin. This was no surprise because during the night at 4.32am, I’d heard a loud bang. At first, I thought one of the children had fallen out of bed, but on investigation, the noise was caused by the crash of our wheely bin being toppled by our neighborhood bear.
However, my first look told me no harm was done, because the bin was closed and so I thought that the noise must have scared the bear away. And off to sleep I went until the dawn chorus blended with the babbling brook and the cool air through the open bedroom window. The quiet calm of breakfast was not to be, as you can imagine, when the children saw the mess.
Living close to wildlife is a thrill most of the time. Last week, our garden was visited by a good-sized milk snake as it basked in the spring sunshine, and you can understand the commotion that it caused. But sadly, its love of sunbathing caused it to have an untimely end on the road a few days later.
Just yesterday, I heard something scurrying in the roof-space of a shed, where a family of birds are being reared. Then there are bats in cavity or eves, carpenter bees all over the place, racoons under the shed and mice springing mousetraps in the garage. You know when that happens because of the smell.
And after all that, I wouldn’t change a thing, except to restock on mouse traps and discourage the bear disruption by securing the trash with a bungee cord or two.
When we complain about the wildlife, we need to remember God made them too and that they lived in the woods long before we moved in. We just need to adapt better and that’s up to us. In the meantime, I must finish sewing the wildflower seeds, and watch out for those butterflies and hummingbirds. Now, where did I put that bungee?
Pastor Cliff
He Is Risen
Dear Friends,
Walking through Holy Week with Jesus for me is helpful if amid the busyness of it all we slow down, do less and realize that this is the holiest time of our Christian calendar. This is why it is called Holy Week because it is set apart for the special purpose to remember the last week of Jesus’ life.
I remember the church in Edinburgh where I joined the Church of Scotland, had an evening service every day during Holy Week. There was Holy Communion on the Thursday evening and as Good Friday was a public holiday, we were able to attend a solemn service on Good Friday afternoon; three hours of meditations based on Jesus’ seven words from the cross. In some towns, there was an ecumenical Walk of Witness through the streets. The police would stop the traffic and a large cross was carried through the streets ahead of the assembled congregations.
Easter Sunday morning broke the silence for us with a dawn service in the church garden, or in one of my churches where there was a bronze age grave on a hill, we would walk up very early for the dawn service before returning for breakfast in the church hall. The later services would follow to complete the Easter Sunday celebrations.
With such an eventful roller-coaster of a week behind them, the first disciples must have been emotionally exhausted and still afraid of a similar fate upon a Roman cross. The Good News of Jesus Resurrection would take a while to sink in and be understood in the coming weeks. Disbelief was understandable especially for those who had not yet seen the Risen Lord Jesus. Thankfully, He would appear to them again over the next forty days to reassure them that it was really Him.
Easter is the climax of the Christian year, and the Resurrection of Jesus gives us hope to face all things because death is not the end, and it has lost its sting. As Edmond Louis Budry puts it in his famous Easter hymn, Thine be the Glory (Thine is the Glory GtG#238),
Lo! Jesus meets us risen from the tomb;
Lovingly He greets us, scatters fear and gloom.
Let the church with gladness hymns of triumph sing,
For the Lord now liveth; death hath lost its sting.
Happy Easter,
Pastor Cliff
Imagine
Dear Friends,
Imagination is a wonderful gift. This week, the Scholastic Book Fair has come again to our children’s school, and it is thrilling to be part of nurturing their excitement for reading and the world of wonder that awaits us in the written word.
As we read about Jesus’ journey to the cross and into Jerusalem, I wonder how you imagine the scene. Jesus’ disciples have borrowed a young beast of burden, a donkey which has never been ridden. His followers lined the streets and joined the procession. Expectant crowds of locals and visiting pilgrims have also swelled the throng whilst looking on are judgmental Pharisees.
And as the story unfolds before us, where do you see yourself? Are you watching and wondering what this is all about? Or are you one of Jesus’ disciples walking behind our Savior and Lord? And even then, what are your expectations of Jesus?
His triumphant entry into Jerusalem, riding on a donkey defied the longings of many in Israel. They expected a mighty king, coming on a chariot of fire to liberate them from their evil oppressor but instead, Jesus came in peace.
And yet, in His gentleness, kindness and compassion, Jesus wielded more power than any earthly warlord because His was an ability to be more than a conqueror. Jesus was offering healing for a fractured nation, acceptance and restoration for the outcasts, forgiveness for all and new life for any who would accept and believe.
There are many nations, communities, and individuals today that need to hear Jesus’ message of salvation. Imagine the healing potential of His power to unite and restore. All of this is possible if we can learn to harness the gift of faith and imagination that God has given us and then turn those thoughts and words into actions to win the ultimate struggle of good versus evil.
Pastor Cliff
St. Patrick
Dear Friends
Every year, we celebrate St. Patrick’s Day on March 17 th , the date of his death at
the age of 75. Patrick grew up in Roman Britain in the 4 th Century, kidnapped by
Irish raiders and enslaved until the age of 16. He escaped back to Britain and
became a priest. He felt called in a dream to return to the people of Ireland, and so
asked for permission from his bishop to return to the land of his captivity, to
convert its people from paganism to Christianity.
We are not sure where in Britain he lived. Most historians think he was born and
lived in west Wales, but I have heard that others claim he hailed from Strathclyde
in the southwest of Scotland. Both are a short distance from Ireland and easily
reached.
My own Scottish heritage is intermingled with English and Welsh from my father’s
side of the family and my mother has told me stories about how her great
grandparents migrated to Edinburgh from the west of Scotland and possibly
Ireland. And so, I often wonder if the tints of ginger in my hair came from Ireland.
Certainly, our traditional Scottish music has a Celtic flavor, and many melodies are
common to both Irish and Scottish folk traditions.
Regardless of our background, the festivities of St. Patrick’s Day have a wonderful
way of bringing a smile to our faces, from the music to the costumes and food.
This Sunday, we are serving Shamrock stew after worship. This week, I will be
trying my hand at making some stew. I only hope that it is good enough to serve at
our Shamrock Luncheon So, be sure to stick around for fellowship hour to enjoy
the food and fun of the day.
I close with the most famous part of St. Patrick’s Breastplate,
Christ be with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.
Pastor Cliff