April 2011
Total Gain!
24 04 11 12:37 Filed in: Reflections
Resurrection Sunday - It was the one time when NOT finding Jesus was good news. But He found them. He is risen, and that makes an eternity of difference.
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Total Loss?
Total loss. The words seem at first to fit the day if all one sees is today. And I readily admit that there are days when the loss of a son feels very total. It must have seemed that way to another Father and another Son who will never recover from Calvary: The resurrected Lamb that John saw in Revelation looked as if it had been slain, the wounds and effects of the cross carried into eternity.
I look beyond the grave on this Good Friday, and I know that death does not win - even when it feels like it does. The message of Good Friday is not total loss; it is Total Gain.
OUCH!
21 04 11 21:23 Filed in: My Life
I guess if someone is going to plow into your car, it might as well be a policeman. It does, at least, save a phone call. That was my unhappy experience this afternoon. I was stopped in the center turn lane waiting for traffic to clear when the last of the oncoming vehicles, instead of passing me, swerved into that same center turn lane and hit me head-on. I’ve never watched an airbag deploy before. It’s not a pretty sight.
I wished it could have been one of those snazzy new little police cars. But no. It was a Ford Explorer that probably won’t be chasing any Renton criminals anytime soon. It’s amazing how BIG an Explorer looks when it’s heading right at you. He said he thought he had seen a suspect across the street. It turned out he not only didn’t see the suspect he was looking for, he didn’t see me either.
There is a strange mixture of gratitude and wondering (why?) attached to events like this. I’d rather have driven home than watch my car be towed away with a slightly crumpled front end, but I was grateful that it was the car and not me. The car bled all over the road, but I didn’t. I was on my into the cemetery to leave tulips on the grave. The tulips will wait for another day, and though I’m sore, I’m glad to have another day. I do, however, have one unanswered question: I wonder if he gave himself a ticket?
I wished it could have been one of those snazzy new little police cars. But no. It was a Ford Explorer that probably won’t be chasing any Renton criminals anytime soon. It’s amazing how BIG an Explorer looks when it’s heading right at you. He said he thought he had seen a suspect across the street. It turned out he not only didn’t see the suspect he was looking for, he didn’t see me either.
Dinner on the Wharf
15 04 11 22:27 Filed in: Grief Notes | My Life
Sometime next week I won’t be having dinner on the wharf.
For the last few years it has been a tradition. Father and son celebrated their birthdays together with dinner on the wharf in Santa Cruz. It was a good tradition that involved a spring trip to Mount Hermon for me and a few happy days off for Matt, who drove over from Modesto to join me. We had some great seafood dinners - and even better conversations - watching the pelicans and seals and the setting sun (but no penguins). We’d head back to Mount Hermon, and if we had saved a bit of room, stop for some 1020 ice cream on the way, and I thanked God for the family He had given me.
We didn’t know that two months after last year’s traditional dinner, Matt would be in heaven. I think it was Bonhoeffer who observed that gratitude transforms the torment of memory into silent joy. I’m still grateful - deeply so. But sometime next week, I won’t be having dinner on the wharf.
For the last few years it has been a tradition. Father and son celebrated their birthdays together with dinner on the wharf in Santa Cruz. It was a good tradition that involved a spring trip to Mount Hermon for me and a few happy days off for Matt, who drove over from Modesto to join me. We had some great seafood dinners - and even better conversations - watching the pelicans and seals and the setting sun (but no penguins). We’d head back to Mount Hermon, and if we had saved a bit of room, stop for some 1020 ice cream on the way, and I thanked God for the family He had given me.
We didn’t know that two months after last year’s traditional dinner, Matt would be in heaven. I think it was Bonhoeffer who observed that gratitude transforms the torment of memory into silent joy. I’m still grateful - deeply so. But sometime next week, I won’t be having dinner on the wharf.
The Beams Are Creaking
08 04 11 21:24 Filed in: Reflections | My Life
Good drama should make you think. Last night I witnessed good drama at Taproot Theater. The Beams Are Creaking is a play based on the life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Though I’ve never particularly considered myself a Bonhoeffer fan, the evening was undeniably well spent, and the play was powerfully thought-provoking. If you’re in the Seattle area, it’s worth seeing.
Bonhoeffer was a pastor in 1930s Germany who chose truth in the face of the rampant self-deception of the Nazis who attempted to silence him. I’m not sure I would have carried that choice as far as he did, to the point of participating in a plot to assassinate Hitler. But I left the play wondering what kind of pastor I might have been if God had placed me in a different time and place.
“Being a Christian,” Bonhoeffer said, “is less about cautiously avoiding sin than about courageously and actively doing God’s will.” I suppose it is much easier to affirm that statement when the times call for neither caution nor courage than when evil is so readily visible.
The play closes with imprisoned Bonhoeffer and others singing Luther’s hymn, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God, as he is about to be taken to Flossenburg concentration camp. There, four short weeks before V-E Day, Bonhoeffer was executed.
Bonhoeffer was a pastor in 1930s Germany who chose truth in the face of the rampant self-deception of the Nazis who attempted to silence him. I’m not sure I would have carried that choice as far as he did, to the point of participating in a plot to assassinate Hitler. But I left the play wondering what kind of pastor I might have been if God had placed me in a different time and place.
“Being a Christian,” Bonhoeffer said, “is less about cautiously avoiding sin than about courageously and actively doing God’s will.” I suppose it is much easier to affirm that statement when the times call for neither caution nor courage than when evil is so readily visible.
The play closes with imprisoned Bonhoeffer and others singing Luther’s hymn, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God, as he is about to be taken to Flossenburg concentration camp. There, four short weeks before V-E Day, Bonhoeffer was executed.
And though this world with devils filled should threaten to undo us,
we will not fear, for God hath willed his truth to triumph through us.
The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him,
his rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure;
one little word shall fell him.
That word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them, abideth;
the Spirit and the gifts are ours, through him who with us sideth.
Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also;
the body they may kill; God’s truth abideth still;
his kingdom is forever.
The Real Battle of Spring
03 04 11 23:27 Filed in: My Life
Forget the Final Four. Now that spring has sprung, the real battle around our house is Moss vs Grass. One of the joys of living in the Northwest is that green happens without much effort. I like green. But in this wet La Nina season, a lot of the green I’m looking at is moss. I could probably learn to like moss, but I’ve been sucked in by the makers of assorted moss killers. And so the other day, I dutifully headed to the store to find something that would make moss die and grass grow.
It strikes me that I may have made a strategic error and picked the wrong side in this annual battle. Grass is high maintenance unless you own goats, and though I have never owned them, I suspect that goats are even more high maintenance than grass. Grass cries out to be mowed, trimmed, and fertilized, and while goats could accomplish all three of those, I’m not sure I’d want to deal with the results.
Moss, on the other hand is decidedly low maintenance. I have never heard of anyone paying to have their moss mowed. I did a bit of research and located a company back east that is so sold on the advantages of moss that they actually sell and ship the stuff. “Gardening with moss,” they say, “adds an amazing degree of serenity and timeless beauty to any garden.” Really? Clearly I have missed a great opportunity. Instead of killing it, I should have shipped my moss to Pennsylvania where it could have made someone serene.
I’m not the only one who likes green. The folks that run the great Northwest gardening industry like green as well, and they work to keep the cash flowing. There must have been hundreds of bags of stuff at the store to kill moss and feed grass. I did not see one single bag designed to kill grass and make moss grow. Between now and next spring, anyone want to help me develop “Grass Out”? We could make a killing!
It strikes me that I may have made a strategic error and picked the wrong side in this annual battle. Grass is high maintenance unless you own goats, and though I have never owned them, I suspect that goats are even more high maintenance than grass. Grass cries out to be mowed, trimmed, and fertilized, and while goats could accomplish all three of those, I’m not sure I’d want to deal with the results.
Moss, on the other hand is decidedly low maintenance. I have never heard of anyone paying to have their moss mowed. I did a bit of research and located a company back east that is so sold on the advantages of moss that they actually sell and ship the stuff. “Gardening with moss,” they say, “adds an amazing degree of serenity and timeless beauty to any garden.” Really? Clearly I have missed a great opportunity. Instead of killing it, I should have shipped my moss to Pennsylvania where it could have made someone serene.
I’m not the only one who likes green. The folks that run the great Northwest gardening industry like green as well, and they work to keep the cash flowing. There must have been hundreds of bags of stuff at the store to kill moss and feed grass. I did not see one single bag designed to kill grass and make moss grow. Between now and next spring, anyone want to help me develop “Grass Out”? We could make a killing!