Whoa! A lesson in getting my head on right.
Yesterday was one of the worst driving days ever. The city's public transit union staged a wildcat strike. Don't think anybody knows why, exactly. Usually I get to work by about 8:50 a.m. I was 45 minutes late! Hate that! Then it was all-day rush hour. Since the subway trains were all still in their yards I had to drive downtown in the afternoon. That was an easy 20 minutes. But coming back uptown to the office took 2 and 1/2 hours in bumper to bumper traffic, and then another 45 minutes to get home! It didn't help that it was a swelteringly hot, humid day. Hate that!
I, along with 90% of the population of this commuter city, practically drowned in exasperation. The local all-news radio station's major all-day story was the disbelief, frustration and anger of people inconvenienced by the shut-down of public transportation. The indignation of having my precious time wasted by the very public squabbling of parties who care only about themselves created a bad taste in my mouth and a grumbling in my heart.
Today... I pick up my mail and there in an eye-catching envelope is an appeal from World Vision for earthquake relief for Indonesia. Suddenly it occurs to me that throughout yesterday's disenchantment with my transit inconvenience, between the news reports of our city's transit strike, I did hear reports of the mounting death toll due to the earthquake in the Bantul district of Java Island. This evening I hear on the news that the government of Indonesia counts 6200 dead and over 600,000 left homeless.
I suffered more than a brief moment of shame as I thought of my indignation at being inconvenienced, against my carelessness over the disaster in Indonesia. Two big news stories on the same day. Which is the bigger news story? Obviously, it was the one that had the greatest direct impact on me, or at least whatever I could most readily feel - and I had felt inconvenienced. Talk about misplaced indignation! Why did I not feel for the lives that were cut short and the home-lost who were more than a little inconvenienced??? I feel now. That envelope will go back with a token of my sad attitude towards things that really matter.
I should pay more attention to the things that get my goad, and make sure that they are actually worth my attention. God have mercy on me.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
Antiquated
Guess it was bound to happen sooner or later: the sense that I'm not really needed by those on the cutting edge anymore. This is a function of years. I remember a day when everything was a discovery, every discovery an exciting adventure, and every adventure life-enriching. Those were the times when I felt myself on the cutting edge. It was a privilege to try new things with peers who had the same needs I had, and were searching as I was. But things have changed. I haven't the time or energy for the fresh adventures of youth who have yet to discover God's surprises for them. I no longer have the drive, or the keenness of mind. And I think those in their prime can sense that. I feel that to them, I am old, out of touch – an object of appropriate politeness, but not to be taken too seriously.
Experience is worth something, but not nearly as much as experimentation. Nobody believes that the older mindset really understands what’s going on today. It is convenient to think that present concerns and aspirations were selfishly ignored by one’s predecessors. They had their priorities wrong. They lived with rules and methods that just don’t reflect the world as it really is. We today are messed up by their inauthenticity. They are responsible for the leaving us in a quandary, so the last thing we need is their advice.
Funny how things come full circle. Seems I once felt that way about the generation before mine. When it came time for me to strike out on my own, I felt that I didn’t need them either. There was no conversation, no dialogue, no grace extended to them – only impatience. Today, I am constantly amazed by the wisdom of those who have lived longer than I have. There is so much I can learn from them, so much I can adapt and adopt for depth and richness in my life. Why did I wait so long?
Well, it is still a privilege that though I may not feel very useful to the up and coming, I have not been rejected. I will do my best to be a keen observer. I will listen in order to understand, and as occasion affords, to encourage. It will be best to be lean on advice. I will be there to applaud, and to help without judging if there is a stumble. There is much excitement in what’s coming around and I look forward to it. The torch has passed on to a capable generation.
Experience is worth something, but not nearly as much as experimentation. Nobody believes that the older mindset really understands what’s going on today. It is convenient to think that present concerns and aspirations were selfishly ignored by one’s predecessors. They had their priorities wrong. They lived with rules and methods that just don’t reflect the world as it really is. We today are messed up by their inauthenticity. They are responsible for the leaving us in a quandary, so the last thing we need is their advice.
Funny how things come full circle. Seems I once felt that way about the generation before mine. When it came time for me to strike out on my own, I felt that I didn’t need them either. There was no conversation, no dialogue, no grace extended to them – only impatience. Today, I am constantly amazed by the wisdom of those who have lived longer than I have. There is so much I can learn from them, so much I can adapt and adopt for depth and richness in my life. Why did I wait so long?
Well, it is still a privilege that though I may not feel very useful to the up and coming, I have not been rejected. I will do my best to be a keen observer. I will listen in order to understand, and as occasion affords, to encourage. It will be best to be lean on advice. I will be there to applaud, and to help without judging if there is a stumble. There is much excitement in what’s coming around and I look forward to it. The torch has passed on to a capable generation.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Promise
Recent changes in the lives of people significant to me - relocation, changes in work, home, etc. - have made me think. Some are experiencing change simply because change happens. Some are going through change in pursuit of the promises of this world. You know: work hard and you'll succeed; study well and you'll be secure; be loving and you'll enjoy the comfort of a great family; set aside a little bit now and you'll have enough to live on when you're old. But the fact of the matter is that we often find these promises broken. Work hard, and you might succeed. You could also get stuck in a dead-end job, be replaced by someone less costly to the company, be sidelined by life-threatening illness, or lose your life at a cross-walk. Be loving and enjoy family – unless, of course, your spouse wants out, or your kids decide to contradict with their lives every piece of good advice you’ve ever given and break your heart over and over. And what if the place where you live is racked with war and terrorism? Even when the promises seem somewhat fulfilled, they don’t last. Just look the local newsstand plastered with magazines blaring the sorry side of those with the great jobs, lovely families, money, fame, and fortune.
God’s promises, by contrast, are meaningfully enduring. He made a covenant promise to his people, and he has been true to his word. He promises “rest” (our well-being) today and also an eternal rest we can look forward to. Jesus promises that he goes away to prepare a place for us so that we can be with him there forever. He promises to build a church, strong and vibrant, over which even the gates (powers) of Hades will not prevail. Jesus promises to give us his Spirit, and we now bear his seal. He promises to be with us to the end of the age. He promises he will not let us be tempted beyond what we can bear. He promises us resurrection. He promises to finish the good work he started in us. These and more are his “very great and precious promises” (2 Peter 1:4).
I guess that part of the necessity of God’s promises is because we are creatures of hope. Our hope rests on promises. These promises really work because they are from the One who has the authority and sovereignty to promise. This gives us a future and certainty despite change. We need to get to know these promises, and the One who made them because we can trust him.
God’s promises, by contrast, are meaningfully enduring. He made a covenant promise to his people, and he has been true to his word. He promises “rest” (our well-being) today and also an eternal rest we can look forward to. Jesus promises that he goes away to prepare a place for us so that we can be with him there forever. He promises to build a church, strong and vibrant, over which even the gates (powers) of Hades will not prevail. Jesus promises to give us his Spirit, and we now bear his seal. He promises to be with us to the end of the age. He promises he will not let us be tempted beyond what we can bear. He promises us resurrection. He promises to finish the good work he started in us. These and more are his “very great and precious promises” (2 Peter 1:4).
I guess that part of the necessity of God’s promises is because we are creatures of hope. Our hope rests on promises. These promises really work because they are from the One who has the authority and sovereignty to promise. This gives us a future and certainty despite change. We need to get to know these promises, and the One who made them because we can trust him.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Galleria
After hearing the many recommendations and praises of relatives and friends about this place, I finally visited this Korean supermarket. Who'd ever have thought that this would turn out to be a first-class adventure!
Korean gadgets are really coming into their own around here, and this supermarket had all the brands. I loved the pots and pans, and plastic-that-looks-like-real glass/stoneware plates, cups and saucers, and bowls. I couldn't believe my eyes when I spotted these one-piece pincer-like chopsticks for the digitally challenged. There was no shortage of Korean groceries, fruits, vegetables, dry goods, candies, and also a good selection of non-Korean stuff. A rhythmic bang drew me to the centre of the store where I saw this machine that takes in a few grains of rice, and then "bang!" instantly out pops a big round, lighter-than-air rice cake. Then bang, another one, and bang, another one, and another one, and another one, .... Uhh! I had to catch up to my companions.
Then there it was - the food court! This is what my friends had been telling me about. They had stressed the variety, and the convenience of the place. Instead of paying at the food station counter like most food courts, here you ordered and paid at a cashier, and got a ticket with a number on it. When the food was ready, a l.e.d. flasher at the station that made your particular dish displayed the number on your ticket, and you got it. The menu was impossible to understand - bolsot bibim bap, koatgaetang, soegogi beoseot deopbap, nakji jeongtol, boodae tchigtae, haemul ttukpaegi, toeji kalbi kui - !!?!!?! It was all Korean to me. However, there were pictures! I ordered by pointing to a picture of something I felt brave enough to try, but not to pronounce. The cashier gave me a ticket.
Korean food is not subtle. The flavours are bold (hot), flavourful (hot), and fragrant (hot). Koreans believe in garlic - with a passion. My dinner companions had seafood something with noodles in soup. They loved it. They loved the automatic sushi rolling machine at one of the food stations, too. My I-do-not-know-the-name-of-it dish consisted of browned noodles with beef, assorted asian vegetables and fungi, something spicy in it, and lots of garlic. It was really good, lovely to begin with, and increasingly spicy right up to the last morsel. A Korean family at the table next to ours emptied what must have been half a litre (I kid you not) of spicy red stuff all over their food. They ate it without even the slightest wince or hesitation.
I really needed some water after witnessing that. Styrofoam cups were available at the food stations to be used for a water dispenser - so I helped myself. My dinner companions asked why I didn't use the Korean cups. !!?!!?! There was such a thing as Korean cups? They showed me. There they were. Small metal cups stacked together inside what looked like a wine cooler - only it was a machine to store, dry, and keep clean cups clean. One of my companions took a small metal cup out of the cooler like thing, used it to drink some water from the dispenser. Then said, "you can drop your used cup in this receptacle." I looked and there was a thing you could stack your used cup in - sort of like a reverse cup holder you would normally get soft drink cups out of in a cafeteria. Wow, they think of everything!
After eating, we had dessert simply by walking through their bakery section. We were too full to indulge in the gorgeous-looking sweets. We worked off some calories by browsing the frozen food section. You know they have everything pre-sliced for doing your own hot-pot at home?
Life is good. I gotta do this again.
Korean gadgets are really coming into their own around here, and this supermarket had all the brands. I loved the pots and pans, and plastic-that-looks-like-real glass/stoneware plates, cups and saucers, and bowls. I couldn't believe my eyes when I spotted these one-piece pincer-like chopsticks for the digitally challenged. There was no shortage of Korean groceries, fruits, vegetables, dry goods, candies, and also a good selection of non-Korean stuff. A rhythmic bang drew me to the centre of the store where I saw this machine that takes in a few grains of rice, and then "bang!" instantly out pops a big round, lighter-than-air rice cake. Then bang, another one, and bang, another one, and another one, and another one, .... Uhh! I had to catch up to my companions.
Then there it was - the food court! This is what my friends had been telling me about. They had stressed the variety, and the convenience of the place. Instead of paying at the food station counter like most food courts, here you ordered and paid at a cashier, and got a ticket with a number on it. When the food was ready, a l.e.d. flasher at the station that made your particular dish displayed the number on your ticket, and you got it. The menu was impossible to understand - bolsot bibim bap, koatgaetang, soegogi beoseot deopbap, nakji jeongtol, boodae tchigtae, haemul ttukpaegi, toeji kalbi kui - !!?!!?! It was all Korean to me. However, there were pictures! I ordered by pointing to a picture of something I felt brave enough to try, but not to pronounce. The cashier gave me a ticket.
Korean food is not subtle. The flavours are bold (hot), flavourful (hot), and fragrant (hot). Koreans believe in garlic - with a passion. My dinner companions had seafood something with noodles in soup. They loved it. They loved the automatic sushi rolling machine at one of the food stations, too. My I-do-not-know-the-name-of-it dish consisted of browned noodles with beef, assorted asian vegetables and fungi, something spicy in it, and lots of garlic. It was really good, lovely to begin with, and increasingly spicy right up to the last morsel. A Korean family at the table next to ours emptied what must have been half a litre (I kid you not) of spicy red stuff all over their food. They ate it without even the slightest wince or hesitation.
I really needed some water after witnessing that. Styrofoam cups were available at the food stations to be used for a water dispenser - so I helped myself. My dinner companions asked why I didn't use the Korean cups. !!?!!?! There was such a thing as Korean cups? They showed me. There they were. Small metal cups stacked together inside what looked like a wine cooler - only it was a machine to store, dry, and keep clean cups clean. One of my companions took a small metal cup out of the cooler like thing, used it to drink some water from the dispenser. Then said, "you can drop your used cup in this receptacle." I looked and there was a thing you could stack your used cup in - sort of like a reverse cup holder you would normally get soft drink cups out of in a cafeteria. Wow, they think of everything!
After eating, we had dessert simply by walking through their bakery section. We were too full to indulge in the gorgeous-looking sweets. We worked off some calories by browsing the frozen food section. You know they have everything pre-sliced for doing your own hot-pot at home?
Life is good. I gotta do this again.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Mired
Expectations and opportunities everywhere. And failure right here. I've been around long enough to know what I should do as situations arise. I should be able to say the right words, care the right way. Deep down the understanding is there. But when it's time for rising to the challenge, I don't know why, but I don't. Actually, I can't even say challenge, but only what can be reasonably expected. I'm deeply aware that falling short can be called sin. And although it may not have been deliberate, my failure to do what I should is just that. Now I'm stuck. Mired in the mess of my own making, again. Yes, again.
I have the privilege of being able to affect many lives for good. However, the real impact has been negligible. Those around me forge ahead in spite of me, regardless of what I do. I'm glad, because that's a testimony to God's grace in their lives. Yet sad, because I wasn't there for them even though I was there with them.
Oh, there are excuses: way too busy! too many demands! too tired! too uncared for to care for others! done my best! But excuses just don't cut it, because people are hurt and trust has been eroded just a little bit more. There is no sense that God loves me any less. I know his forgiveness is sure. But for those I've failed, saying sorry is not enough. They have to re-understand me, re-build their expectations, swallow their pain. I have to learn, persist in doing the right thing even though this time it's too late, and wait. It does hurt.
This is where I live, for now.
I have the privilege of being able to affect many lives for good. However, the real impact has been negligible. Those around me forge ahead in spite of me, regardless of what I do. I'm glad, because that's a testimony to God's grace in their lives. Yet sad, because I wasn't there for them even though I was there with them.
Oh, there are excuses: way too busy! too many demands! too tired! too uncared for to care for others! done my best! But excuses just don't cut it, because people are hurt and trust has been eroded just a little bit more. There is no sense that God loves me any less. I know his forgiveness is sure. But for those I've failed, saying sorry is not enough. They have to re-understand me, re-build their expectations, swallow their pain. I have to learn, persist in doing the right thing even though this time it's too late, and wait. It does hurt.
This is where I live, for now.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Bridge
A familiar gospel presentation has a chasm (two opposing cliffs) with a human figure on one side and God on the other side. The chasm is sin, every person's problem, impossible on one's own to leap across. As the presentation progresses, the chasm is spanned by a bridge drawn in the shape of a cross. This represents Jesus Christ and his death on the cross. In Christ, God himself provides the means to get across the chasm of sin and reach him.
The cross as bridge...
Looking forward to Good Friday, the cross is prominent in my mind. Yes, it is declared always: the cross is the symbol of love, a demonstration of the lengths to which God is willing to go to prove his love. It is the picture of Jesus nailed hand and foot to the crossbeams to pay for my sin. But the cross is also a bridge. It is what closes the gap between earth and heaven. And one must go over the bridge in order to get to the other side.
The cross is not merely a symbol. It is not simply Jesus identifying with our suffering, or sympathizing with our plight. Getting sick along with my child when he brings home a cold from school doesn't ameliorate his situation. Giving him the necessary care, comfort and medicine does. The cross is strong medicine. It is a bridge that must be crossed because it traverses the chasm of sin. This is repentance - agreeing with God that I am a sinner. It is a bridge that must be crossed because it brings me to God. This is faith - accepting that Christ is, in fact, my Saviour from sin, and consequently, Lord of life. The distance impossible for me to close is spanned by Christ. He leads me to God.
Looking forward to Good Friday, the cross is prominent in my mind. I will meditate, sing, and worship because it is a symbol of love. It is a symbol that Christ is here with me and for me. But it is much more than just a symbol. It is a bridge. Cross it.
The cross as bridge...
Looking forward to Good Friday, the cross is prominent in my mind. Yes, it is declared always: the cross is the symbol of love, a demonstration of the lengths to which God is willing to go to prove his love. It is the picture of Jesus nailed hand and foot to the crossbeams to pay for my sin. But the cross is also a bridge. It is what closes the gap between earth and heaven. And one must go over the bridge in order to get to the other side.
The cross is not merely a symbol. It is not simply Jesus identifying with our suffering, or sympathizing with our plight. Getting sick along with my child when he brings home a cold from school doesn't ameliorate his situation. Giving him the necessary care, comfort and medicine does. The cross is strong medicine. It is a bridge that must be crossed because it traverses the chasm of sin. This is repentance - agreeing with God that I am a sinner. It is a bridge that must be crossed because it brings me to God. This is faith - accepting that Christ is, in fact, my Saviour from sin, and consequently, Lord of life. The distance impossible for me to close is spanned by Christ. He leads me to God.
Looking forward to Good Friday, the cross is prominent in my mind. I will meditate, sing, and worship because it is a symbol of love. It is a symbol that Christ is here with me and for me. But it is much more than just a symbol. It is a bridge. Cross it.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Cling
Picking up some dead branches in my yard. Branches fallen off the trees, and as such, lifeless, leafless, fruitless.
And I wonder why my life flounders. It's not that I'm neglecting stuff. Most would consider me diligent and faithful at home, at church, at work, and in the community. Nor am I uncaring or unloving - at least no one has said so to my face. Nevertheless, for all the good things I'm doing and thinking, it is still quite easy to compare myself to a lifeless, leafless, fruitless branch fallen off the tree. The fruitful life is supposed to be characterized by love, joy, sacrifice for others, friendship with God. I am plagued by the sterility of my life. I am bothered by my fruitlessness.
"I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit." I've heard it before, yet it's only beginning to sink in. All must be centred on a vital relationship with Christ. I need to remain, abide, stay, hang on to, cling to him.
Makes sense. He is the source of life. All he really wants is for me to keep his commands by faithfully clinging to the vine. Trying to be the right person and trying to do the right things are never the root of devotion. They must grow as the fruit of a life that remains in the vine.
Lord, help me to faithfully cling to the vine.
And I wonder why my life flounders. It's not that I'm neglecting stuff. Most would consider me diligent and faithful at home, at church, at work, and in the community. Nor am I uncaring or unloving - at least no one has said so to my face. Nevertheless, for all the good things I'm doing and thinking, it is still quite easy to compare myself to a lifeless, leafless, fruitless branch fallen off the tree. The fruitful life is supposed to be characterized by love, joy, sacrifice for others, friendship with God. I am plagued by the sterility of my life. I am bothered by my fruitlessness.
"I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit." I've heard it before, yet it's only beginning to sink in. All must be centred on a vital relationship with Christ. I need to remain, abide, stay, hang on to, cling to him.
Makes sense. He is the source of life. All he really wants is for me to keep his commands by faithfully clinging to the vine. Trying to be the right person and trying to do the right things are never the root of devotion. They must grow as the fruit of a life that remains in the vine.
Lord, help me to faithfully cling to the vine.
