A CHRISTIAN’S VIEW OF CREATION

The only exclusive timeless spiritual being, Triune God, surrounded by spiritual creatures, angels who worship and serve God eternally, decided to create a species of physical beings, unique, humanity, in whom God would invest a divine similarity. A delicate feature. There would be affinity between God and humanity. To affect this plan, God created a universe of galaxies, and in one galaxy he made one planet suitable to human physical life. Humanity, with this divine resemblance, both genders, should enjoy Earth and wisely govern this jewel of a planet.  God was pleased with creation. Because God knows all things, ends from beginnings, even then God knew humanity would fail to maintain God’s likeness. Sin would interrupt the affinity God had with humanity. Sin changed humanity. Transience and Mortality. God’s penalty on sin. Still God loved this Earth full of people. God’s plan in eternity was to restore this Godlikeness, this affinity in humanity. Restoration would result from God’s greatest of all time demonstration of love. The death penalty would be paid. God determined to take on a human form to briefly reside on planet Earth, then die. God’s eternality would conquer death. Penalty served. Sin’s interruption arrested. God’s prerogative. The benefit to humanity, contingent on individual faith in the efficacy of God’s death. Plus, a promise. Eternal life with God for the believer. It worked. It works.

DEATH IS NO STRANGER TO ME

DEATH IS NO STRANGER TO ME

 

This is not a gloomy mindfulness. End of life is on my mind more frequently than it ever was in previous decades. The proximity of death is easily apparent to me, particularly because of my age.  I am 78 years old. Furthermore, the passing of close friends and acquaintances who are my contemporaries occurs with increased frequency. Two days ago another friend’s life on planet earth ended. She was four years older than me.  

I am no stranger to dying and death. At the age of 27 I began my work as a church pastor. For forty years one of my responsibilities was spending time with dying parishioners and residents of the community. I sat with families as their loved one weakened and I comforted them when the loved one died. Many who died were close personal friends. I had my own load of grief to manage. I officiated funerals within the churches that I pastored.  I lost count of how many hundreds of funerals that is. Death is not a stranger to me.

My grandparents and parents and most uncles and aunts and some cousins have died. We have been people of faith, not just any faith, but Christian faith. Early in my life and then through concentrated linguistic and theological investigation I confirmed for my own satisfaction that my faith rests on promise based on evidence. So I am content to trust that God was telling me the truth when he inspired writers to record that eternal life awaits those who trust that Jesus was divine and resided on earth for the purpose of atoning for human sin. I believe that Jesus’ own dying words to a dying convict promising him life in paradise was true, and is true still. What this comes down to is assurance and hope and peace. 

Yes, I have bought the whole meal deal. It’s a worldview that includes a future beyond life here. Not for one moment do I believe that it is easier or more intelligent to accept that life began spontaneously in some cell somewhere or through some cataclysmic celestial explosion. I rest my trust in a transcendent pre-existing God who created this remarkable universe and chose to fashion humanity in his image, and who has prepared something for us after this. I am unafraid and I am content.   

I AM LOUSY AT ABSTRACTION

I am a realist/impressionist/representational painter. I like painting subjects to look like recognizable subjects. In recent weeks I have been faced with an uncommon task, painting a theme. A client asked me to paint two trees with interlocking branches and roots as a symbol of a marriage union. This will be a wedding gift soon. That is, if I don’t destroy my two attempts first. If they survive and if my client likes one of them well enough, we will complete the sale. I am sure that I am harder on myself than the client will be, but I can’t be certain of that either since Christine, my resident art critic keeps pointing out features needing improvement. It’s been an exercise in self-realization. I am less able to imagine images to convey concepts than I thought I was. I have greater respect now for aboriginal artists who capture the spirit of nature and creatures, and for cartoonists who visualize thematic interaction between people. There has been some artistic enjoyment in this work and a strong dose of frustration. Since I was told that the engaged couple are deeply committed to their Christian faith, I have painted subtle symbols such as the Holy Spirit superimposed as a dove in the foliage of the joined trees, and the tree roots sunk into the foundational principles and truths of the ten commandments and the assurance of Christ’s divinity with the open tomb underground. The paintings are coming along, with more fine touches to be added. Yes, I did two paintings and that will give my client a choice. She can have them both but she can choose the one she will gift to her friends. Upon completion, I can hardly wait to get at my next two commissions, true subjects that reflect light and create shadow. I would be a lousy and dissatisfied abstract painter even though I often appreciate some other artists’ work.  

boyhood sketch 8. DIMES, DIMES, DIMES

dimes, dimes, dimes

Even our extended family was a church going family, not all to the same church, but they were Christian people. 

Aunt Gladys in retirement 

One of my aunts, Aunt Gladys was a single woman when she went to New Guinea as a missionary. This was a big deal. To kids like me, it was exciting because many family members travelled to Toronto International Airport as it was called, to bid her farewell. 

turnstiles

Upon arrival at the airport, the drivers parked the cars and as a group we made our way to the terminal. Turnstiles required each person passing through to put a dime in a slot and to carry on. I noticed that a dime was stuck in one of the turnstiles. I also noticed a paper clip on the ground. What can I say. It was perfectly clear to me that they were made for each other. With a bend of a paper clip and a quick flick of the wire the dime came out. Soon a gentleman came by and put in another dime and curiously the turnstile arm allowed him through but the dime remained visible. I flicked it free. Then I hid. One after another, people paid and I collected. (All part of being a kid finding his way in life, practicing choices and learning right from wrong, learning good and learning guilt, and finally learning forgiveness.) 

DEFINING MATURITY

In our housing complex, Christine and I observe numerous gradations of maturity among adults. Some understand what it means to live responsibly in community and some don't care. For the latter group, individualistic interests control personal decisions and that is immaturity. In contrast, a vacationing fourth floor apartment individualist has been at ground level for two weeks voluntarily hand watering community plants for everyone's benefit. That is maturity at its altruistic finest. I understand that in churches we mean more than biological and psychological maturity but spiritual maturity as well. Within the context of Christian development, maturity is expressed as setting aside personal rights and ambitions as Jesus did for us, and prioritizing other people in our investment of time, energy, and everything else. This strength of maturity lends itself to being a nonconformist, a rebel and a maverick for Christ. Christlike individuals, mature in their relationship with a triune God, self-effacing and compliant to the will of the Father who authorizes them to be pioneers, innovators, forerunners, pacesetters, visionaries.

Addendum: This week the occupants of two units have moved and our unanimous corporation exclamation is 'good riddance.' They didn't respect the other residents of the community and created disturbances. I am certain there have been a few churches who after seeking peace and enduring conflicts have also been happy to see some members leave. Maturity is that important. It’s not a matter of age but of choice.

My Beard - On Again Off Again

A NEW LEARNING
Pogon is the Greek term for ‘beard’ and trophy a Greek term for nourishment or growth. Pogonotrophy is the growing of a beard and I was involved in it.

My beard was a test. What would it look like? How would people perceive me? How would I respond to peoples’ reactions? How would Christine respond to it? She has historically, not hysterically, thank goodness, voiced her objections to facial hair on me. Would it be different now that I retained it for a while? I started growing it during our family vacation at the end of August and I have maintained it for five months. Have you picked up on the past tense? Yes, it’s gone.

Here’s what I found. I did and I didn’t care what anyone thought. This maturity level delighted me. My vanity and autonomy were intact. No one rained on my one man parade. Younger generations affirmed me thinking the beard was cool and older women said it was sophisticated. Men daring to comment said it made me look like the artist I pretend to be.

I enjoyed my goatee. It was fun to wear it. I didn’t plan on removing it. I just woke this past Wednesday and knew this was a shave day. It was a practical decision. My goatee bumped into my lifestyle. I want to be in and out of the morning shower and I want to shave while I am in there. Mine was a high maintenance beard requiring daily trim time.

In my pre-beard days a hairy Hindu neighbour informed me that Jesus never told me to shave and he urged me to grow my beard. I will likely grow it again. Perhaps mine is an occasional beard, a seasonal fuzz, but it will always be an egotistical adornment. It does make me feel manly, feeds my ego and image. What my beard will not be is a faith associated growth as it is for Sikhs, Hindus, some Jews, Amish, Hutterites, Old Colony Mennonites, Eastern Christian priests and Franciscans. Neither will my beard be utilitarian as though I required it for warmth in cold weather unless the lower mainland becomes any worse in winter than it already was this year. I can still afford Mach 3 razor blades if I determine to pull even the dull ones across my mug.

Nuts, now a man walked past my house with a nice white beard and I am jealous.
Pogonology is an actual term for study of beards. How bored must one be, yet I wonder whether it comments on the sense of nakedness one feels when looking into a mirror at a smooth face where once there were whiskers?