Reflection on the Sabbath

On the way to church today I had the opportunity to help someone who said he was in need; maybe he was maybe he wasn't, it doesn't matter because I made a change, I gave of my self, he gained something new. Maybe you can't change the whole world, but if you have love in your heart you can make small differences every day, which really does change the world, one life at a time.

How appropriate that the sermon was on Psalm 103 and the importance of praise and attitude.

In an area that is so maligned with the depiction of violence, intolerance, and hatred: I could walk down the street past a Mosque, a Hindu Temple, a Catholic Church, smiling greeting people of all races and nationalities to a church of my choosing to worship how I believe, no feelings of animosity or danger, and I have to wonder why can't the rest of the world figure out that this is what God is truely about.

The favour and protection of God are the only sure rest and comfort of the soul in this evil world, We are dying creatures, all our comforts in the world are dying comforts, but God is an ever-living God. It is a short and quickly-passing life, as the waters of a flood. Man does but flourish as the grass, which, when the winter of old age comes, will wither; but he may be mown down by disease or disaster. (Ps 90:7-11)

 “God, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.” (John 17:11)

All too often “us and them” seems to come more naturally than simply “us.” And so Jesus prays that we might all be one -- not sameness, not uniformity, but community, connection, relationship. God’s desire is that everyone is included in the abundant life to which Jesus is pointing us. “. . . since you have given Christ authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him.” (John 17:2) The unity for which Jesus prays is a universal unity -- a unity where we recognize, honor and celebrate our connection with each other.

Martin Bell once wrote a story about this quest for unity, and the difficulty of reaching that goal, and the patience of God in the process. It was written almost 40 years ago, so the imagery for God is very male-oriented. But his point is powerfully hopeful nonetheless.

I think God must be very old and very tired. Maybe he used to look splendid and fine in his general’s uniform, but no more. He’s been on the march a long time, you know. And look at his rag-tag little army! All he has for soldiers are you and me. Dumb little army. Listen! The drum beat isn’t even regular. Everyone is out of step. And there! You see? God keeps stopping along the way to pick up one of the tinier soldiers who decided to wander off and play with a frog, or run in a field, or whose foot got tangled in the underbrush. God will never get anywhere that way. And yet, the march goes on.

Do you see how the marchers have broken up into little groups? Look at that group up near the front. Now, there’s a snappy outfit. They all look pretty much alike -- at least they’re in step with each other. That’s something! Only their not wearing their shoes. They’re carrying them in their hands. Silly little band. They won’t get far before God will have to stop again.

Or how about that other group over there? They’re all holding hands as they march. The only trouble with this is the ones on each end of the line. Pretty soon they realize that one of their hands isn’t holding on to anything -- one hand is reaching, empty, alone. And so they hold hands with each other, and everybody marches around in circles. The more people holding hands, the bigger the circle. And, of course, the bigger circle is deceptive because as we march along it looks like we’re going someplace, but we’re not. And so God must stop again. You see what I mean? God will never get anywhere that way!

If God were more sensible he’d take this little army and shape them up. Why, whoever heard of a soldier stopping to romp in a field? It’s ridiculous. But even more absurd is a general who will stop the march of eternity to go and bring the silly soldier back. But that’s God for you. There will be no endless, empty marching. God is going somewhere. God’s steps are deliberate and purposive. God may be old, and tired. But God knows where he is going. And he means to take every last one of his tiny soldiers with him. Only there aren’t going to be any forced marches. And, after all, there are frogs and flowers, and thorns and underbrush along the way. And we are only human. And most of us are afraid and lonely and would like to hold hands or cry or run away. And we don’t know where we are going, and we can’t seem to trust God -- especially when it’s dark out and we can’t see him! And God won’t go on without us. And that’s why it’s taking so long.

Listen! The drum beat isn’t even regular. Everyone is out of step. And there! You see? God keeps stopping along the way to pick up one of the tinier soldiers who decided to wander off and play with a frog, or run in a field, or whose foot got tangled in the underbrush. God will never get anywhere that way!

And yet, the march goes on. . .

                                               (“Ragtag Army”, The Way of the Wolf, by Martin Bell)