Musing on a Lion and a Lamb

Credit: Pngtree.jpg

They call him The King of Beasts. His rippling musculature and regal bearing attract the attention and admiration of many people towards the lion. Those who live in regions lions inhabit also respect and fear them.

These animals are well equipped for both defence and attack, with powerful jaws, strong eyeteeth fangs, sharp retractable claws, and great strength. A magnificent mane further contributes towards an adult male’s kingly appearance.

My experience with live lions has been at the safe distance afforded by security barriers in places such as zoos and safari parks.

When growing up in the UK I enjoyed having Lyle’s Golden Syrup® spread on toast. Its sturdy metal container continues to display a picture of a dead lion with bees flying in and out of its decaying carcase, in which they’d constructed a honeycomb. A caption reads, “Out of the strong came forth sweetness.”  

Tate & Lyle®

Samson, an Old Testament hero and judge, while travelling one day, encountered a lion and killed it. Some time after, when passing the rotting carcase, he noticed that a swarm of bees had constructed a honeycomb inside it, laden with honey. He took some and ate it, then later posed this riddle for his friends and invited them to explain it, offering a prize for whoever might solve it: “Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth sweetness” (Judges 14:14 JKV).

Here’s a more poetic version: “Out of the eater came something to eat. Out of the strong came something sweet” (NRSV). If any of Samson’s friends had seen that carcase and noticed the bees and honey, they might have guessed the answer; however, none did.

Credit: FreeImages.com

Good Friday services don’t normally focus on a lion, but on a lamb, suggestive of gentleness and innocence – The Lamb of God. Jesus Christ, Son of God – the world’s one absolutely innocent man, offering Himself up to God as the perfect sacrifice for humanity’s sin.

Therefore, on Good Friday we consider Jesus’ betrayal, His unjust trials and condemnation and rejection. He willingly submitted Himself to whipping, beatings and the agonies of death by crucifixion amidst the indignities of public nakedness on a Roman cross. His sacrifice was supreme, final and all-sufficient. He permitted Himself to be led “like a lamb to the slaughter” (Isaiah 53:7).

Credit: mom.me

Revelation, the last book of the Bible, frequently represents Him as The Lamb (e.g. Rev. 5:6), but presents Him also as The Lion: “. . . See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah . . . has triumphed” (Rev. 5:5)! The commanding power and force associated with the lion reflect the character and accomplishment of Christ.

And so, Easter Sunday’s celebration of His resurrection and victory over sin, death, hell and the grave, honours our conquering Saviour, who is “King of kings and Lord of Lords” (cf. Revelation: 19:16).

Jesus’ meekness was not weakness. His meekness or gentleness was strength under control. I pray that we each experience the sweetness of God’s amazing grace and strength through embracing Jesus as the rightful King of our lives – our Living and Loving Lord.

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Peter A. Black is a retired pastor – well, sort of retired – and lives in Southwestern Ontario. He writes a weekly inspirational newspaper column, P-Pep! and is author of Raise Your Gaze ... Mindful Musings of a Grateful Heart, and Parables from the Pond – a children's / family book. ~~+~~

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Past Easter: New Growth--Carolyn R. Wilker

Easter Sunday is past yet we’re still in the Easter season in our church, a time we consider growth and renewal. It’s fitting that Easter occurs in springtime. At least that’s my take on it, though it may not match in other parts of the globe, with climate and different seasons.

I love watching the garden come to life, with leaves opening, buds on trees and then the early flowers appearing. First the crocuses and later the tulips and daffodils. Cheery yellow daffodils and pink tulips are among my favourites. After the white chill of winter, I’m ready for colour in my garden again. And ready for the season of gardening all over again.

This past week I took some new photos of my flowerbeds and posted several on my Facebook page. Friends say, “Already?” or “Is that this year already?” and I can reply, “Yes, it is.”

Mind you, there are weeds to contend with in spring, shrubs to be cut back and some clean-up to do, but it’s all part of the package of gardening. The lawn got its first haircut, and I’ve pulled some weeds from places. My husband gave the shrubs a seasonal trim; quite a trim, I might add. Lots of room for growth there.

After rooting out the plants that are overgrown or done and replacing them with new ones, I can sit back and enjoy the refreshed garden and watch it grow further. Perennials are the easiest to grow and tend, when the plant is matched to soil and conditions. They flourish in the right place, just as we do.

Making some changes for this year, I’ll dig out a few plants where ants have built a new hill. Those busy little insects have transplanted their home across the sidewalk after we rousted out the old one last year. We have sandy soil, and ants like sand. We may not rid the garden of ants entirely and that’s okay, as long as they don’t take over. My garden will never be perfect lines and precision, only pleasing to the eye and colourful. After all, it is nature which is sometimes a little wild around the edges, just like its caretaker.

I look forward to planting the vegetable garden later this month, hopefully with the help of our two oldest granddaughters who like to dig the holes and water. We’ll have a conversation about the plants we want to grow. They’ll come by to help plant the garden and then, from time to time, for a visit and help to tend the garden—mostly with the watering can. Then we wait and watch until it’s time to harvest whatever we’ve grown.

Think of Jesus’ resurrection and the opportunity of grace that we may start fresh each day in our Christian walk. Like spring and the promise of new growth, like the routing out of things that don’t serve our purpose anymore. Maybe not a brand new purpose, since we may have already believed and hoped in the risen Christ, but a renewal of sorts, like the earth giving forth new life.

www.carolynwilker.ca

photos by C. Wilker

Rising Life at Easter -HIRD

Rising Life in 2017

By Rev. Dr. Ed Hird

As a teenager, I golfed and skied religiously on Sunday mornings.  But I would never skip Easter Sunday.  For some reason, I always had a soft spot towards Easter.  Perhaps it was all that delicious chocolate.  Maybe it was because my father would attend at Easter, giving up his golfing for one Sunday.  I will never forget when my then agnostic father switched from golfing every Sunday to golfing every other Sunday in order to attend church.  Since taking the Alpha Course four times, my dad has developed a strong personal faith.

My teenage memories of Easter Sunday are connected with a sense of joy.  Unlike my atheist best friend, I never doubted the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. But I was emotionally disconnected from its reality.  It was almost as if I did not believe in Easter.  As a teenager, I became convinced that there was no life after death, and that nothing awaited me but extinction and returning to dust.  I began to fear the power of death and the meaninglessness and emptiness of life.  I even began to secretly wonder if life itself was worth living.  When I came to personal faith at age 17, it was almost as if I had never heard of Jesus’ resurrection.  I remember being astounded over the realization that by faith in Christ, I would live forever.  I started wearing a button ‘Have a nice eternity’, something that would have made no sense to me just a few months earlier. 

At the recent Greater Vancouver Festival of Hope, almost 2,000 people gave their lives to Christ after hearing a clear message of Jesus’ death and resurrection.  Easter is at the very core of what it means to be a Christian, even more than Christmas, our other favorite festival.  Even in our very complicated Canadian culture, Easter and Christmas are still deeply rooted in our self-identity and history as Canadians.  I will never forget a Capilano University Philosophy professor who, though an atheist, invited me to speak in his class about evidence for Jesus’ resurrection.  While initially skeptical, he became appalled by the religious and historical ignorance of some of his students.  He commented that without reading the bible and literature like Paradise Lost, you could not really understand Canadian culture.  The Easter story is deeply woven into our 150 years of Canadian history, something that we will be celebrating with Voices Together at the Pacific Coliseum on Canada Day.

In the past almost 37 years of ordained ministry, I have been privileged to take many funerals, now often called celebrations of life.  Many people nowadays don’t have any services when they die.  I find that rather sad, as it leaves people with limited ways to grieve.  Others no longer use clergy as in the past.  At most funerals that I take, there are many people sharing their memories of the deceased.  No matter how well I know the deceased, I always learn much at the service and wish that I knew them better.  My main contribution at funerals is to remind people of how Jesus conquered death and offered us rising life that would go on forever.  I am totally convinced that life and love are stronger than death, and that Easter is more than just chocolate.  God has given us in Jesus rising faith, hope, love and Life.

Rev. Dr. Ed Hird, Rector

St. Simon’s Church North Vancouver, Anglican Mission in Canada

-author of Restoring Health: body, mind and spirit

-previously published in the April 2017 Light Magazine and the April 2017 Deep Cove Crier

A Room is Waiting—Carolyn R. Wilker

We’re past Easter now, but not into lasting spring weather, at least not here in the northern hemisphere. Winter has a tenacious hold on us. It rains, it snows, gets colder and then snows again, just like yesterday when I wrote this post.

I’m waiting for spring. I even bought a pot of daffodils to remind me of it, since ours in the garden have so far only sent up leaves and two daffodils before the weather changed again. More snow blew in and covered the garden. It’s a good thing the early flowers are used to this. Perhaps they’re more patient than we are. 

More flowers have come into bloom since I brought them home. Daffodils are a sure sign of spring—a season we are hopeful will come to stay very soon. We humans are not so good at waiting.

I bought the daffodils, not for me, really, but with someone else in mind. Our loved one who’s in a bed in hospice, no longer able to will his body, or trust his legs, to get out of bed of his own accord. The daffodils are intended as a spot of springtime brightness for his room, something he can see from his bed. I also bought a big bag of peanuts, an item on the wish list at the hospice.

plenty of windows to let the sun in and for looking out

There’s a door to outside from each patient room, and plenty of windows so patients can look out, even if they cannot physically go there. Today, when I go to visit my father, I will take the pot of daffodils and the peanuts. I’ll put some peanuts outside to entice birds and squirrels—whichever gets them sooner—to come closer, so he can watch their antics and their coming and going. The bag of peanuts is large enough that other patients can have the same opportunity, even if it’s the family or volunteers who spread the treats.

  a big bag

 A fellow storyteller shared this quote from Ram Dass this week—"We’re all just walking each other home." For the patient, last days, weeks, or even months. For family members involved, last conversations with our loved ones. We know in our head the time will come  for our patient—and for each one of us—but in our heart, we are never ready to say goodbye. The separation is the hardest, for both patient and family.

And yet, we have the peace of knowing where our loved one will go at the end of this earthly life, and it’s a whole lot better than here, if we believe what we read in God’s Word to be true. No need for snow shovels there, or winter coats and mittens. No worries about flowers freezing when another icy blast comes in April. It will be better than we can imagine.

As the philosopher wrote in Ecclesiastes, there’s a time for everything. “A time to be born, a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot… a time to weep and a time to laugh.” (chapter 3, v.1, 2, 4) While we put in these days—whatever time is given to us— let us also be prepared and know there is a room prepared for us, and that we’ll be welcomed when we arrive.

Anticipating the Warmth of a Cold Gathering - Tracy Krauss

This month's prompt was "Anticipation" and what better theme to go with the resurrection of our Lord? Today, many of us are gathering together to celebrate this most joyous of occasions.

One of my favourite Easter memories comes from our time living in the Yukon. Each year the ministerial organized an Easter sunrise service, with all five churches participating. Watson Lake, our home at the time, has a small park in the centre of town called 'Wye Lake'. (Not to be confused with the bigger lake for which the town is named.) Wye Lake is a favorite gathering spot for many ministerial functions since it offers a sizable gazebo surrounded by a grassy area for large gatherings. A log cabin outfitted with a kitchen, washrooms, and indoor meeting space is right next to the gazebo. 

It sounds idyllic, right? In the summertime, yes... at the end of March or beginning of April -  not so much!

Remember, this is in the Yukon. There is still a lot of snow on the ground and the temperatures are nowhere near spring-like. In fact, I don't remember a year when it wasn't freezing cold outside. Most people came bundled up in their winter gear, but there were always a few ladies who insisted on wearing their Easter finest. Imagine the flow and flap of a spring print dress next to a pair of oversized, clunky snow boots. (Fashion in the Yukon has its own flair.) They could be seen huddled close to a significant other (or not... nobody is choosy in minus degree weather...) bouncing from foot to foot to keep warm.

In any case, the service was always understandably short. A prayer, two familiar hymns, and a very short message. After that we all trundled to the cabin where hot chocolate, coffee and an array of muffins and other breakfast foods awaited. The warmth of fellowship among believers was welcome, perhaps as much as the warmth of the building itself.

These are precious memories. The ministerial was a vibrant association that did a lot of things together in that community. We anticipated those group gatherings as much as any other events. I am forever grateful for the time we spent in the north. It taught us a lot about what it means to be the family of God.

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Tracy Krauss now lives and writes in Tumbler Ridge, BC, considered by some to be 'north'. For her and her husband it is a southern retreat.  http://tracykrauss.com

Da Vinci’s painting of The Lord’s Supper—Carolyn R. Wilker

It seems such a short time ago that we celebrated Christmas, with services, turkey dinners, family gatherings and opening of gifts. What a difference between the joy of the announcement of baby Jesus and the solemnness that surrounds the opening of Lent when we are reminded what mere mortals we are, that and the imposition of ashes in the form of a cross at our Ash Wednesday service last evening.

In this season of Lent, our congregation—without a minister for the time being—is joining with two other area churches, as we have for the last several years, for a Lenten supper followed by a service in the hosting church. The three congregations take turns hosting and providing the supper, and the pastor of the only congregation with a minister is organizing the services.

 The pastor giving the sermon shared a story of Leonardo da Vinci creating the famous painting of the Last Supper, of Jesus with his disciples. Perhaps most disciples were easy enough to paint. Da Vinci could look around and sketch almost anyone in the marketplace, but according to the story, he looked for a model who exemplified Jesus’s character and found a young man with striking appearance who seemed to fit best. He hired the man to sit in his studio and painted him.

As referenced in an online biography, Leonardo took over two years to find the right character to paint as Judas, where he apparently found his models in the marketplace.

I had to make sure I heard it right, and so on returning home, and again this morning, I searched the story on Google. Here’s where it gets interesting. The version being referenced on the Snopes site gave the ‘Judas character’ a name (as we do in fiction). In this version, different from what I read on the Internet last evening, it seems that Da Vinci chose a man who was in prison and that the prisoner was released. How many versions are there of this story? I have to wonder.

 Snopes, a site on the Internet that sets out the truth on false stories, claims that story is false and a Christian allegory (a fictional story with a symbolic message), and that a person writing the story would not have had the historical context in this much detail. Also there are no apparent records of models he would have used

 That response is similar, but not identical, to one on the Truth or Fiction site, that references biographer, Robert Wallace, who said that “there are no accounts of a prisoner being brought from Rome for the sittings.”

It’s an interesting juxtaposition of character and stories. Did the pastor knowingly choose the allegory to make a point? I don’t know that. Yet I think there’s a lesson for us, besides knowing what is truth and what is not. The allegory shows how easily a person can fall away from knowing God—unless he asks for daily help and direction, and acknowledges his sin.

That’s what the Lenten season is all about—knowing our position as sinful beings and believing that God sent his son Jesus to die for all our sins. Not a pretty picture, but then Easter follows with the resurrection.

 www.carolynwilker.ca

Feeling Blessed--Carolyn R. Wilker

Blessed means more than just saying thank you. The Canadian Oxford Dictionary defines blessed with such words as sanctified; often fortunate in the possession of, listing such items as good health and children; and bringing happiness. I could just list my blessings one after the other, or I could contemplate a few of those at a deeper level.

 I begin with the most recent, and in no particular order—our newest addition to the family.

We’ve become grandparents again, adding a new small one to the family. Tiny Mya is more than three weeks old as I post today. Her cousins, by comparison, are bigger than her, but in relative terms, I’ll call them “her little cousins” for they are three-and-a-half and five-and-a-half years old. The girls have been curious about this coming baby for months now, and not long before Mya was born, they asked their aunt if she would bring a little girl. A fair question, since we didn’t know at the time whether the baby would be a boy or a girl. I look forward to observing their reactions as Mya grows and eventually smiles at them. They both had turns holding their small cousin when we gathered at Easter.

                                                               Mya and me

We marvel at those tiny fingers and toes, the utter innocence of a newborn. I have looked forward, at each grandchild’s birth, to snuggling the small one to me and the soft breath against my neck as the child relaxes and goes to sleep. And as the baby grows, there’s so much more to look forward to as she engages in this new world. Thus grandchildren are my first item under blessings today.

I could list a free country where we can worship without fear, or having the land to plant a small garden to grow food and flowers, to bring nourishment and beauty. Both are good, however, my next one for the moment is my friends.

                                                                    My friend Kathy

Perhaps it’s having so recently attended the funeral of my long-time friend, Kathy, that I place my friends next. It’s a reminder to send those little notes about what they mean to me, as I did for Kathy while I still could, and a remembrance of other friends, such as Annie, Gayleen and Barb, who have gone before me. At such a time, I want to consider what Kathy has meant to me and other close friendships I have, even if miles separate us. I value the special qualities of a sincere heart, a listening ear, prayer for one another's needs, and the joyful celebrations we’ve had together, and because friendship goes both ways, I strive to do the same. I want my friends—and you know who you are, to know how much you are appreciated.

The list of blessings could be quite long. My immediate and extended family are a big part of it. And there’s our heavenly Father, too, whose love we can reciprocate only in part. We’ve been loved first, before we could love him, and this is where Jesus fits in.

We are told that we do not see clearly now, and that any images we have of God are like looking at a reflection that's not very precise. From that I take that we will only fully appreciate and see that love completed when we see Jesus face to face one day. I’m not in a hurry to get there, but I know that others have spoken of that meeting in their final words in their earthly life. We know that Jesus goes ahead to prepare a room for us when we are no longer able to go on here. That’s who and what we celebrate this Easter season, for we are God’s children and Jesus wants to be counted as our friend.

Carolyn Wilker is author, editor, writing instructor and storyteller. Learn more about what she does here.