Alan! Alan! oops... Steve! Steve!

Screengrab of a confused gopher

Some years ago, the BBC put together a compilation of animal voice overs – that were quite amusing. One of them, involving a gopher, has popped up recently a few times in my contacts.
This gopher is standing on his hind legs, presumably trying to get the attention of another critter; after several outbursts of “Alan! Alan! Alan!” there’s a presumed thought of “that’s not Alan, that’s Steve!” before the critter again cries out, this time “Steve! Steve! Steve!”

While amusing, there’s also a bit of a point to be gleaned from this poor gopher.
Mistakes happen.
And correcting ourselves is okay.

The reality is that none of us gets through things perfectly; we all make mistakes. Whether it’s posting something on social media in the wrong place, typos, dialing a wrong number, calling someone by the wrong name… it happens.

What happens next is important. For when we are wrong, we should want to be given the chance to apologise, and to try and do things better moving forward.

Apologies are hard; they require us to focus on what we’ve done (not the other person’s reaction), to not try to explain ourselves away (the word “but” doesn’t belong in an apology!), to not diminish the other person’s hurt, to legitimately try to change behaviour (so as not to repeat the offense), etc.

Admitting our mistakes also presumes grace. Just as the comedic gopher meant no harm to his friend, if Gopher Steve had been cranky, there could be a rift in the rodent friendship. Yet the one who makes the mistake hopes for a chance to do better – to get it right in the immediate, and be more intentional in the future – about their own actions, and to be more considerate of others.

We also hope, when we do make mistakes, that others will respond to our gaffs with grace and forgiveness; usually our genuine mistakes are just mistakes, with no harm intended. Thus, it gives us the chance to practice some flexibility and extend some grace when others make mistakes towards us.

Not all mistakes are as small as a wrong name, nor are all mistakes easily repaired. But with the intention to do unto others as we would have them do unto us, one hopes to have healthy connections as we move through life together.

 

I Want To be Good

My dog wants to behave.

And she tries… really, really hard!

At least, until she gets distracted. Usually by another dog, or a bouncing hare, or the friendly neighbours… and then: she forgets her training, her intention, her desire to be good. The chase drive just takes over her little puppy brain.

At times, usually when she can calculate that she is too far away anyway, I see her resume control over her emotions. But generally, my leash-carrying arm gets tugged a little enthusiastically as she is keen to make herself a new racing friend.

I wonder how often we, as humans, get distracted away from our desire to be good, to do that right thing. When the influences in the world surprise us away from that narrow path, and lead us into that well-cited temptation. Does the morning coffee aroma guide my thoughts away from the daily office? Is the ringing phone derailing the sermon prep? Is the grumbling tummy minimising my patience when speaking with extra-grace-required people? Do the adorable (and a-dork-able) antics of the dogs override my intention to send those follow-up emails?

Yes. Of course. Because life is like that: a collection of good intentions that mostly happen – and sometimes don’t.

But, like my dog, I think it is important that we keep trying: every day, every encounter, every opportunity. For it’s never the wrong time to do the right thing. And, God willing, I get it right more often than not; and, God willing, I'll get better the more I try.

A Life of Luxury

I’ve had a few conversations this week where the word “luxury” came up.

It was not in the traditional understanding: we were not discussing fancy cars, state-of-the-art technology, excessive jewelry, etc.

One person had mentioned that they grew up in comfortable surroundings, and had not realised that those were actually luxurious. Emotionally, there was a family that loved her, education, safety… physically, they did not suffer – there was food on the table, a roof overhead, annual vacations…

The definition of luxury is a state of great comfort or extravagant living.

Yet, we often consider this in a very privileged way; another conversation this week addressed our reality of luxurious living.

* About 1/3 of the world does not have access to safe drinking water, and half the world’s population experiences water scarcity at least half of the year.
* 1 in 10 people experience hunger; 1 in 6 experience food insecurity.
* Over 250 million children (mostly girls) do not have access to basic education.
* Nearly 10% of the world’s population does not have access to electricity.
* Half the world’s population lacks access to essential health care services.

… the list goes on, affecting people close to home as well as farther away. Even those with access to goods and services may not be able to afford them.

And so those of us who can, and do: we are living in luxury. We have become so accustomed to it that we don’t always see it.

And this is where our faith challenges us to open our eyes: to express gratitude for every privilege and luxury that we have: indoor plumbing, reliable transportation, church pot luck meals (a parable of abundance if there ever was one!)

…and faith. We lavish in the luxury of faith. We are offered extreme spiritual comfort; we are promised spiritual wholeness in extravagant ways.

And these luxuries are unending, and we have opportunity to share them. We know the benefits of faith, and the privilege to teach and invite others to the luxury of a faith community. We may take our spiritual formation for granted, for we have never questioned it: but I invite us to see it as a luxury: a gift, ever-giving from the unending source of love; that supports us, inspires us, and encourages us.

..and empowers us to ensure that all may receive this luxury.

I Could Do That!

Screengrabs from a video by Amaury Guichon, chocolate artist

One of the things I do sometimes (when my brain is reeling too fast) is to watch short videos of dessert artists. By this I mean the cake decorators or chocolate sculptors (or the like), who use common items in ways that are truly impressive.

Of course, my brain takes me to the unlikely place where I actually think: “I Could Do That!”

And, maybe I could: if I were to spend the time in training and practice that these folks have, and invest in the tools and implements that they have, and build up the businesses that they have, and then plan/edit/coordinate the videos the way that do.

I could do that!

The reality is: I’m not going to. I appreciate the 60-second montages of these creative endeavours, but I doubt I would have the long-term interest and desire and commitment to the craft.
And that’s okay!

Instead, I know I spend my time and energy in ways that are fulfilling to me: ways that may have minimal interest to others.

Our society has an abundance of ‘content creators’ who share the edited successes they have. We seldom see the journey to get there; the failures, the trials, the journey of getting there. And if we’re not careful, we can get swept up in the notion that everything is easy, and immediate. We know that to be an inaccurate view of the world, which can lead to unrealistic expectations on ourselves.

And so I remind myself that when I think “I Could Do That!” to hear it with a giggle, and a realistic re-assessment. The journey to getting things right is practice, the discernment to things we’re called to involves trial and error. God blessed us all with unique skills and abilities and interests, and if we try to fit into someone else’s mould of ‘success’ we will deny our own pathway.

We are fearfully and wonderfully made, the psalmist reminds us knit together by God as unique individuals: so too our interests and abilities will reflect the unlimited glory of God. What a pleasure to discover our own gifts to be shared with the world, demonstrating a strong faith to which others might declare “I could do that!”

A Flowery Reflection

Last week, honouring Mothers’ Day, the congregation distributed carnations to the women. The flowers were pink, and white, and red - all were beautiful, and a lovely gesture.

I received a flower that was less opened than some of the others. The friend who gave it to me said that I could watch it open for longer – and enjoy the beauty yet unseen (which has been the case this week!)

Another friend reflected that as flowers open, we see them with new eyes: for they reveal new perspectives, new colours, new joys.

Life is like that: ever unfolding, opening, renewing. The root is the same, but how the world perceives it changes.

Our faith mirrors this: we are rooted and grounded in love, and the result of that is what joy we can offer to the world. (Regardless if the world will receive it, we continue to have opportunity to share beauty and love.)

May our love for God and for God’s world continue to open: giving new colour, texture, and aroma to add depth and character to our lives.
May our ministries continue to bloom, responding faithfully to our situations and contexts, in ways that are life-giving and hope-growing.

Encouragement

When was the last time you offered someone encouragement?

We do it a lot; a “good job!” to our kids, note of thanks for an act of kindness, the sermon cheerleaders whose ministry is to nod their heads mid-preaching God bless them!), an offering of advice to a graduating class.

We encourage folks we see and engage with, in ways that are meaningful, in ways that are momentous, in ways that are fleeting. The size of the encouragement is not as important as the act of encouraging.

I can think of some of the encouragements I’ve received in the past few weeks… a card and treat from friends following a fun discussion (that made me laugh out loud); a thumbs up after I challenged myself slightly beyond my comfort zone; a compliment on a sermon.

Encouragement feels good to receive, it also feels good to extend. It demonstrates community, connection, and acknowledgement of gifts.

And we are encouraged in the scriptures to do this. Consider Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians (an epistle intended to convey a message of hope); 5.11: “Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing.”

The context of Paul’s message here is affirmingly positive, and it invites a bit more nuance when taken in context. For Paul is inviting the Thessalonians to build one another up in faith; as individuals, but also the building up and strengthening of the community of the faithful. They have been called to prayer, to worship, to share and grow in the promise of salvation.

Paul’s encouragement addresses that by strengthening the community’s faith, it provides additional support during trials and tribulations, which Paul knows to be inevitable. It grants individuals the security to know that they will be upheld when they stumble, just as they will provide assistance when another member falters. It means leaning on one another with trust and confidence, so that all may obtain the richness of the promise.

It's encouraging, then, the realise the gift we all have to continue this pattern and practice of encouragement. To pray for others and know that we are prayed for; to support one another as we are supported, to share in the mutuality of encouragement in the faith.

And, to be humble to identify when we have not been as encouraging as we might want to be – and to find ways to change that.

So again I ponder: when was the last time you offered someone encouragement? Praise God we can do it right now.

Let Your Light So Shine

Last Sunday we celebrated a baptism; a beautiful child receiving the sacrament that affirms the forgiveness of sins and membership in Christian community.

Part of the service involves the lighting of a candle from the paschal (or Christ) candle, being passed to the child (or one of the adults they brought with them), as we hear the words from the Sermon on the Mount: “In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” (Mt 5.16)

The ”same way” noted addresses the call to not hide the light, but to use the light for the benefit of the community: to guide, to illuminate, to proclaim the Good News, and to inspire others.

The symbolism of light is not uncommon throughout the scriptures; it is used in parables and teachings, and as a description of God’s presence. The light of Christ, the Light of the World, the light shines.

At the time of baptism, like at the Easter Vigil Exsultet, it is easy to celebrate the light, growing and giving, as it encourages our faith development. We have the choice, as our days continue, to return to that source of light and love.

That we have received the light does not mean it will always be spectacular; it means we will never be put into darkness. Some days may feel spiritually gloomy, and the light feels like a tealight in the corner. Other days are spiritually brilliant, and the light feels more luminous than the sun. And, of course, there are all the days and experiences in between.

And, we can encounter some folks who are unable to see the light; and those who reject it; one hopes they can return. Their light has not been removed, and we pray that they will once again turn to the light.
I invite us to ponder on our own experience of the Light of the World, shining in our lives. Have we used this light today? Do we seek to share our light and brighten another’s (recalling that our candles do not diminish when we light another candle)? Have we tended the lamp gifted to us? Who has shared their light with us, and to whom have we extended our light?

Whether your light today is flickering or strong, tiny or abundant, I hope you find joy and comfort in the assurance of that eternal light. And may your light shine, that others may see God through you.