Winter Wedding

Whiteouts and iced-up wiper blades could not prevent us from reaching Niagara On the Lake where a young couple and their twenty guests gathered in a small Anglican Church for a winter wedding. As the gale winds battered the church, we listened to the bride and groom say their vows. The groom's family, a very musical family, sang a blessing to them. Then we formed a circle around them, laid our hands on them, and offered up sentence prayers to God. On the table, the license and Christ Church's Marriage Registry lay open, all the signatures properly and legally inscribed. The flame of the unity candle flickered slightly in the breeze, not so much from the strong winds outside as from the prayers we breathed up to the One who came up with the idea of two people becoming one. How good is this idea? Thousands of years and millions of weddings later, it still has the power to draw people together in the worst conditions to hear and see the two best things that a couple can exchange: a promise for life and a kiss to seal their commitment.

We're a one car family. It works because I try to use my bicycle as much as possible. Last week, however, I wiped out on my bike. I didn't notice that the road was covered with a thin sheen of ice and when I turned into my first corner I slammed to the ground. It took my breath away and messed up my chain and my gears. It took me almost two hours to set my bike up again that night, and I've put it away until next spring.
But we're still a one car family, so how would I get to work on the days that Marja needs it to get to her job? I decided to walk. It 's 3.7 kilometres to the church and now I know that it takes just under thirty-three minutes. Cycling this distance, by the way, only takes nine minutes. But I've discovered that walking this distance is great. I see things I haven't seen before and I have time to think. And what I thought about this morning was how excited I was to come to the office and write a sermon about the simplest but most important message that we have for the world, that Jesus is the Son of God and that in Him we have eternal life and the power to overcome whatever the world throws at us (I John 5:1-13). A simple message birthed while engaged in the simplest of human activities: walking!

Last Sunday, after doing some teaching on prayer and anointing with oil, I invited people to experience this after the service. Of the half dozen people who came forward for prayer, four welcomed me to use oil. So I did, tracing a cross on their foreheads and on the back of each hand before praying with them. It turned out to be a powerful sensual experience for them and for myself as the oil's rich aroma enveloped us while we talked to God. I don't believe that the oil itself has any magic or miraculous properties. But knowing how important olive oil was for the Israelites who used oil to light their homes, prepare their food, salve their wounds and anoint their priests, I can see why James encouraged its use when praying for those who are sick. Psalm 133's lush oil-based metaphor for unity - "it is like precious oil poured on the head, running down on the beard" - only confirms for me that oil is a very meaningful symbol for God's blessing and presence that I will use more in our prayer ministry at Hope Fellowship.

Today's reading from James talks about taming the tongue. He compared our tongue to a small spark that can set a whole forest on fire. It made me think about the devastating fires in California that were apparently set accidentally by a group of students partying on an abandoned site in the woods. They thought they had doused their campfire! Now they have to live forever with the consequences of their carelessness. Thinking about this and the day that lies before us, I will ask God to help me control my tongue, not only in what I say to others but also what I write in e-mails and articles. I will pray even more urgently for God's help when I feel frustrated or on the defensive, because I know that those are the times when I am tempted to say something that I will regret later. Join me today in being quick to listen and slow to speak so that we won't have to put out any fires caused by a thoughtless or angry word.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Fifty-eight years is a long time to be married. That's the length of time my parents are celebrating today. Pretty amazing, isn't it! In all that time they have been through a lot - pastoring seven churches, raising five kids, surviving heart problems and cancer. Through it all their love for each other and their trust in God has remained strong. For me, they exemplify what it means to "fix our eyes on Jesus" (Hebrews 12:2), something I've seen them do for the fifty-seven years that I've been their son.
I've got my eyes fixed on lots of things, but I need to remind myself that any one of them can get me seriously off track if I don't put Jesus first. Today, on my parents' anniversary, I feel challenged to look at Jesus before my eyes grow big about something that, ultimately, is only a distraction and a hindrance that prevents me from "running with perseverance the race marked out for us" (Hebrews 12:1)