Past the derelict mattress
and the overgrown pavement
over the tracks
and through the hole in the fence
Past graffiti-bright buildings
and the junkyard alarm bell
and the screaming police cars
and it’s all present tense
It’s my beat
In my new town
Past the drunk woman reeling
with her bag of provisions
Down through the tunnel
with the stink-fuming bus
On to the bike path
where it’s something like freedom
and the wind in my earring whispers
Trust what you must
It’s my beat
In my new town
Ancient and always
The wheel’s ever whirling
Today I’m riding
Tomorrow I walk
Step through forever
into this very moment
The heart is pumping
and the heart rocks
It’s my beat
In my new town
Bruce Cockburn: For the most part it’s pretty literal. I moved to Montreal last March and it’s about me riding around Montreal on my bike. On another level it’s about being in the moment, appreciating the here and now. – from “Ready For “Anything” From Bruce Cockburn”, Gavin, 11 December 2001.
Written about a town 5000 km away it still feels like “my beat” in Vancouver. I think I will go out and check my beat.
“Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God; But only he who sees, takes off his shoes – The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.” – Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed. –Albert Einstein
I love to read of scientists with a sense of wonder; those who recognize the mystery of our universe. They inspire me to be moved by mystery and by this amazing universe that is so far beyond our comprehension. Scientists, after all, are dedicated to learning as much as they possibly can about the universe. They make it their daily mission to know more today than they knew yesterday; and yet, there is always more to know. I appreciate scientists who recognize their limitations and acknowledge that there will always be mystery.
The same is true of theologians and those of us who take the Bible seriously. Each day we seek to know more than we did yesterday while recognizing that there is always more to know. We must recognize our limitations and acknowledge that there will always be mystery. May we continue to have a sense of wonder and awe of this universe and of our God.
In Comment Magazine published by Cardus, Greg Veltman has written a review of the movie A Serious Man. I will quote a portion of it here. You can also see the entire review in its context here.
Joel and Ethan Coen’s latest film, A Serious Man, feels like a loose adaptation of the story of Job to the American Midwest in 1967. Larry Gopnik (Michael Stuhlbarg) is a university physics professor, married with two children, and up for tenure. Larry has lived the life expected of him by society; he has not deviated from the script. Unfortunately, his sickly and bungling brother has taken up residence on the couch; his wife is seeking a divorce so she can move in with Sy Ableman (a much more exciting family friend); and a disgruntled foreign student is threatening his chances for tenure. And that is just the beginning.
Larry’s life is going downhill fast. What is a good Jewish man to do? He seeks the advice of three local rabbis. But wisdom cannot simply be gained by consulting the experts. . . . Larry is seeking meaning beyond merely passing the test and memorizing the rules. Larry’s quest illuminates the need for education to be an active engagement with the world, not merely a passive acceptance of the status quo. Throughout the film, Larry insists that he hasn’t done anything to deserve his suffering. The three rabbis’ advice turns out to be too ambiguous and cryptic, and so Larry remains in a fog of confusion about why he is suffering.
The Coen brothers have a rare gift for making films that are serious enough to be tragic, yet absurd enough to be comedic. And while at times you want to laugh at Larry’s existential crisis and the cliché and aphoristic words of advice offered to him by the rabbis, the film also has a tragic side. Larry has lost his ability to learn. He is educated, but has become an unreflective and uncritical man. He is unable to see that the life he has been chasing is an illusion, and now it may be too late to change course. While the film is wise not to attempt to offer a trite answer to the meaning of suffering, it seems to suggest that it is our response to suffering that matters most of all. The film illustrates that true education is our ability to think about meaning and critically question the way we have shaped society. To become a mensch (a human being or a serious man), Larry would have to see himself as a person with decisions to make, rather than simply going through the motions of life as others have selfishly recommended.
I have been all things unholy. If God can work through me, he can work through anyone. – Francis of Assisi
Above all the grace and the gifts that Christ gives to his beloved is that of overcoming self. – Francis of Assisi
“Church must be contextual and missional! Some church plants are in danger of disappearing into the culture. We must listen to the culture and listen to God. What are the signs that God is at work?” – Stuart Murray at Renov8 2009
In an article by Rich Schlentz entitled “Engage ‘Em or Lose ‘Em—It’s That Simple,” the author speaks of corporate America.
April 14, 1970. Apollo 13 was two days into its mission when an explosion caused the spacecraft to lose oxygen and electrical power. At that point, John L. Swigert, the command module pilot, uttered the now famous quote, “Okay, Houston, we’ve had a problem here.” Although the crew on that Apollo 13 flight were some of the most highly trained astronauts in the world, it didn’t take much skill or education to recognize the problem at hand. Thanks to a loud explosion, their dire straights were simple to recognize.
So it is today within corporate America. There has been a large “explosion.” Only this time it has gone virtually unnoticed! When it became clear to the Apollo 13 crew that there was a serious threat to their lives, they sprang into action. They quickly responded by working collaboratively and with purpose to achieve a clear objective: make it home alive! The same cannot be said for a large portion of American companies who have decided to ignore the explosion of employee disengagement. There is no response, no springing to action. Rather there is the status quo of employees remaining isolated in corporate silos, receiving emails from their supervisor’s mandating that they do more, better, faster, with less. How can it be that in the middle of national crisis, it’s so difficult to recognize our own dire straights?*
I would like to extend this analogy. Not only has corporate America “had a problem,” but American and Canadian culture in general has a problem and the Canadian church in specific has a problem. We are sitting in the midst of it, we have heard the explosive loss of oxygen and energy in the church but it has not rallied our churches to action. The average person in the church sits disengaged; unwilling or unable to respond to the dire straits of our situation. We keep waiting for things to “get back to normal.” When “the trouble with normal is it always gets worse.”^
As Darrell Guder has said.
This is a time for a dramatically new vision. The current predicament of churches in North America requires more than a mere tinkering with long-assumed notions about the identity and mission of the church. Instead, as many knowledgeable observers have noted, there is a need for reinventing or rediscovering the church in this new kind of world.#
Let us pray that God will build His church and that the gates of hell shall not stand against it.
*Copyright © 2010 Christian Coaching. All rights reserved. http://www.christiancoachingmag.com
^The Trouble With Normal, 1983, words and music by Bruce Cockburn. Published by Golden Mountain Corp. (BMI)
#Darrell E. Guder, editor, Missional Church: A Vision for the Sending of the Church in North America.
Stuart Murray spoke at the Renov8 Congress in Calgary. One of the interesting things he said was this.
If we serve a God who loves beetles enough to create 350,000 different kinds, can’t we have a few more types of churches? Stuart Murray, Director of Urban Expression, UK: http://www.urbanexpression.org.uk
The inuksuk (also spelled inukshuk and plural inuksuit) is one of the symbols of the Vancouver 2010 Olympic and Paralympic Winter Games. In the Canadian north inuksuit have been used for many purposes. They are used to show directions to travellers, to warn of impending danger, to mark a place of respect, to mark a cache of food, or to look like a person and help in the hunting of caribou. They are a quiet message given to those on a journey.
We are all on a spiritual journey; and like the Inuit of the north, this journey is through a harsh land. We need an inuksuk along the way to guide us in this spiritually barren place.
The billboard message of our culture today is shouted to us from every store, every television commercial, and every news story. The predominent message says, “There is no God; there is no meaning to this world; the best that you can do is simply enjoy life.” But might there be another message spoken softly in the inuksuit of life? If we listen carefully we might hear God’s quiet whispers from the sign-posts along the road, “I Am; I am not silent. The universe is not meaningless. I have a plan for you.”
My friend and pastor Rick Scruggs wrote a great blog post a few weeks ago. I thought I would share it with you here.
Not all learning comes from books. I’ve been learning some things from my granddaughters. As a parent I soon came to realize that God teaches up plenty from our kids and as a husband it didn’t take me too long to realize that God had plenty to teach me through my wife and the journey of marriage. But grandkids have caught me a bit off guard. I guess I presumed that because we had raised our own children and arrived at the point where they had left the nest and were soaring well on their own that our days of learning much from children was over. But then came Kaiya and more recently Rylee and a whole new era of learning has commenced!
The learning I’m referring to isn’t about new toys or the most recent kid’s TV programs or how to employ an improved diapering system. It isn’t even about mastering the technology of “skype” so we can see them while we talk with them. No…the real learning, the important learning is about how they affect our hearts.
During these “sabbatical days” I’ve had more time to spend with them which means of course that I have gotten more attached to them. In the days leading up to their move to Vancouver they lived with us for a week and as a result saying “goodbye” became that much harder. The house is now so much quieter…the toys are never underfoot and the tupperware cupboard stays neat and organized behind the door instead of all over the floor…I can actually get things done without interruption…when I leave to go somewhere no one cries because they can’t come with me and I can actually read the paper instead of The Barnyard Dance when I sit down. But…there are no squeals of joy…no cries of “Bampa”…no lifted arms…no one crawling into bed with us in the morning or peeking out from around the corner while playing a game of “boo”.
So as I sit in my quiet and well ordered room and write this blog I’m reminded of a few things that this “refresher course” is teaching me. I’m reminded of how important children were to Jesus and of his warning that unless we become like these little ones…these vulnerable, dependant, exuberant kids…we cannot get into his Father’s Kingdom. How is that when we are so smart, so savvy, so well experienced, so cosmopolitan? I’m reminded of how they love to be held and cuddled and played with and how much we grandparents love those moments and I think about how much God longs to take our hand during a walk, have us sit on his lap while he reads us some story that is far below his IQ level. That closeness that develops between grandparent and grandchild is a reflection of the closeness that God desires with us! And the joy at watching them learn to walk and talk and master all kinds of new skills…I’m sure that God has those same moments of joy as he watches you and I make progress in our efforts to become just like him.
More painful insights came when Kelly and Sarrah moved to Vancouver a couple weeks ago. And while they moved for good reasons, to work with a new church plant there, the geographical distance reminds me of another painful reality. What must it be like for God when his kids move away from him? How does he feel when the ones he has loved, the ones who have professed their love and commitment to him choose to put distance between themselves and him? Perhaps we would like to believe that God is somehow devoid of such trivial emotions but if he indeed created us in his own image I think he must feel some of the pain that such separation inevitably brings…a similar sadness and longing to that which we have felt these last few days since our granddaughters moved away.
These “grandkid lessons” have also taught me more about empathy. I resonate with those grandparents who have experienced these exact same feelings. I hurt more deeply for parents who have lost custody of their children or even more dramatically those who have lost a child or children to death in some manner. Compared to these “tearings” my lessons have been slight and temporary but non-the-less my empathy has been sharpened.
So we look forward to a few more trips to Vancouver and becoming much more proficient at skyping and God willing, perhaps even a few more grandchildren in the years ahead! And I’ll try to remember that God is always willing to teach me new lessons, even in the midst of disappointment and painful separations.