Standing between the manger and the cross
The period in the church calendar between Advent/Christmas and Lent/Good Friday/Easter can leave us spiritually somewhat uncertain. Can we learn anything from this “in-between-time”?
The period in the church calendar between Advent/Christmas and Lent/Good Friday/Easter can leave us spiritually somewhat uncertain. Can we learn anything from this “in-between-time”?
Heaven’s way is: peace, not power; mercy, not might; service, not self.
I sat down at a table after church for a sociable cup of coffee. At first there was no room, but somebody moved aside so I could squeeze in. I remarked, “Thanks for the room; I’m not a refugee.”
The year 2017 is the 500th anniversary of the Reformation. But there is another upcoming anniversary that is also significant, 2018 and 2019 will mark the 400th anniversary of the Synod of Dordt (1618-19).
The journey of Words from Wild Horses continues, but it will only appear once every quarter. This has opened the door for me to focus on other writing projects, and so this is a huge blessing to me.
I wince now when someone labels me an evangelical. It has become a political term more than a theological term, as a result of repeated public reports that over 80 percent of white evangelicals in the U.S. voted for Donald Trump. That is one of the dangers when religion becomes enmeshed in partisan politics.
Just past my kids’ school, there is a red brick church with a cafe in the lobby.
It took Cohen’s long-time backup singer, Jennifer Warnes’ often eerie, haunting, sometimes reverential 1986 tribute album, Famous Blue Raincoat to draw me into Cohen’s fold. Even then, though, I remained comfortably on its margins. Then came Ten New Songs in 2001, co-written and produced by Sharon Robinson. That was the first pure Cohen CD I bought – but not till 2004. I was hooked, gaffed, pulled up on deck and captured alive for the next 13 years.
I tried wrestling once in high school, and that was enough to know it was not for me. I don’t like wrestling, but I do it quite a bit. I wrestle with God. I wrestled on election day in the U.S. I wrestle with understanding my place in the world. We all wrestle.
Our son Maynard lives in greater Vancouver. He works at the University of British Columbia (UBC) situated on the far-west coast. It’s a large research university that serves about 52,000 students. He and two other labour relations specialists represent the administration, who oversee the close to 10,000 or so staff (not including faculty) at the university.
These days, in an electronically inter-connected but dangerous world moving at break-neck speed, my yearning for solitude, for peace, has not waned.
I don’t feel forty, I feel eighteen. I feel like I’m just starting out and my whole life lies ahead. I feel like there is an endless supply of time to find myself and get to know God and grow.
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