What Brings Me Joy?

 

As I looked over my writings from the past year or so, I realized 

that many poems and articles have a touch of sadness or concern about

 them. I was not surprised, as I thought more about the feelings  expressed. 

I have experienced much sorrow as I think back over the past number of years.  

However, this has  been too one-sided. Amidst the sorrow, I have experienced 

many joys. In my last blog posting I mentioned friends from my high school years.

That is a turning point in my emotional state. They have and continue to bring

much joy. Therefore, I am committing myself to writing about my many joys.

Joys of marriage 

Mary and I are celebrating thirty-eight months of marriage,

Or, just over three years of happiness!

My grief certainly has moved from mourning to joy and

My life is filled with joyous activities;

Driving to Birds Hill Park or relaxing at the Leaf, Assiniboine Park

Or planning our next seminar for those North of 55!

Or even spending a quiet evening on our couch 

Watching a movie or sports event.

Joys of family

My heart overflows as I reflect on life with my children

And the joys they bring each day.

Phone calls, emails and visits spread throughout the week

Keep me up-to-date on what’s happening in their lives.

My heart beats just a bit faster as I connect with grandchildren,

And really miss the call or quick note when the time in between 

Is too long, at least from my perspective!

I love the hugs whenever we do meet in person.

Joys of friends

We truly are thankful for our many friends, 

From school, church or community.

We visit friends at Tim Hortons or at Boston Pizza

And sometimes for breakfast at Larters or at Sals

We have friends come in for coffee or tea.

These become precious as we remind each other

That our lives, well-lived, may end before we wish.

But always these visits bring many joys.

Joys of Church

We cannot forget the many joys brought on

By such sincere, friendly fellowship, 

Especially when we gather ‘round tables 

With plates heaped with many shared, exciting foods.

On other Sundays,our pastors challenge us in sermons, 

That make us question how we are following Christ’s example. 

The chatter before the service begins, or afterwards before we travel homeward,

Shows the love and caring within the congregation.

A TRIBUTE TO LIFE-LONG FRIENDS

Back in 1957 my parents moved to Clearbrook from Chilliwack, BC. I was not thrilled with the idea of leaving my friends in Chilliwack. After all, I was finishing grade 11 and wanted to stay in order to graduate with my high school friends. Why did we have to move now?

Thankfully, my parents allowed Bernie (my brother) and me to complete our year in Chilliwack. Bernie was expecting to graduate from East Chilliwack Bible School, and I was finishing grade 11. We drove back and forth each day, for several months—thankfully, gas was not the price it is today!

We moved into my Grandpa’s house. He was living alone and was getting somewhat frail, and was losing his eyesight because of diabetes. There had been talk of having him move in with us in Chilliwack—a move that would have suited me much better than having to move to Clearbrook.  However, my parents, especially my mother (this was her dad) realized that Grandpa Thiessen would be totally lost in a strange city away from everything familiar. Therefore, the decision was made to sell the Chilliwack home and move in with Grandpa in Clearbrook.

We moved in the spring of 1957. I was unsure of any reception from teens my own age. However, on the first Sunday, I was invited to join several young people of my age and mostly my grade for activities of various kinds. Usually on Sundays, this group would end up at someone’s home for faspa. I was thrilled to be included. My first such time was at the home of Rose Friesen Bushman. The people that were there included Helmut Doerksen, Louise Rempel Janzen, Marie Rempel Gibbons, Ed Rempel, Ernie Schmidt, Inge Doerksen Schmidt, Jack Suderman, George Janzen, and Dave Rempel. Others participated in the group at other times.  Of course, none of these people were married, but I wanted to include the married names.  This was quite a tight-knit group. Both Bernie and I were invited, but Bernie bowed out while I went. I was soon included in the conversation. I felt good being there.

Although this was my first time with this group, I soon discovered that their friendship ran deep. Jack Suderman and Ernie Schmidt, in particular, made sure I was included in any of the activities. This soon eased my mind concerning the loss of friends in Chilliwack. Here I was included and appreciated.  I stated earlier that my brother, Bernie, did not join me on that first Sunday afternoon. However, another person who also missed that afternoon, Rose Hooge, soon developed a real interest in Bernie.  Both were in Grade 13 together, and soon let others know that they were in a serious relationship. After graduation, Bernie left for Ocean Falls, BC, to earn money before he and Rose got married. Although both have died, we remember the blossoming relationship and the love they showed through many years of marriage.

What can I say, except that these dear friends include me (us) in get-togethers whenever possible?  Occasional phone calls and emails help keep me in the loop. That first Sunday in Clearbrook, so many years ago, brought life-long friendships. In fact, most of us are now in our eighties, with several no longer with us, but the “remnant” still meets. Whenever we get to the Fraser Valley, a call to Ernie and Inge brings a number of us together for some visiting. I often wonder whether these friends really know how they blessed me that first Sunday. Life-long friendship indeed!

Thinking the Way Jesus Thought: A Polarized Pattern?

 Our pastor, Mary Anne Isaak ended her Sunday sermon with the following poem.

It was inspired by Amanda Gorman’s, The Hill We Climb and Philippians 2:1-13. I have been moved by Gorman’s writings, and found that Mary Anne’s reflection also moved me. Therefore, I requested permission to post it to my blog. I trust you will enjoy the message.

When discord swells

we ask ourselves

how to navigate polarity.

Friction forces poles apart

Fractures tear the very heart of community.

 

Echo chambers of the woke

shun silos of the other folk.

Systems recede even more:

Health care crisis,

Tariff prices,

Raids by ICE, and ISIS,

Screen devices,

Arthritis,         

Hantavirus.

Heads spinning. Margins thinning. Darkness winning.

Everything on pause!

What’s the poss-ibility

of new ways to navigate polarity?

Two thousand years ago in similar disorder

Christ braves the belly of the beast.

He teaches that quiet isn't always peace,

and the norms and notions

of what just is

isn't always just-ice.

In human fragility,

vulnerability,

Christ chooses humility,

and empties himself to the polarity of loss,

empties himself unto death,

even death on the cross.

 

And God HIGHLY exalts him

with a name above names,

for chaos cannot halt the reign of God,

and at the name of Jesus

every tongue proclaims

Jesus Christ is Lord.

The polarity of universality,

world influence across the board.

 

Non-sovereign Lord.

Servant with universal dimension.

Christ, the magnet, holds opposites in tension.

He doesn’t push them wider.

He offers wiser polarity,

holding paradox in complexity.

You cannot split a magnet’s poles.

Their relationship persists.

Snap it small;

North and South will still exist.

And so it is with Christ.

We cannot peel apart the poles.

Christ

    IS Lord,

    IS Servant who poured

himself out in an act of love.

We shall not sever
the basin from the blessing.

We shall ever hold together
the towel with the cresting,

his exaltation with his emptying.

Now, as Jesus-followers

we are striving to forge

our church with purpose,

to compose a people of diversity,

committed to all

    cultures,

    colors,

    characters

    and conditions of humanity.

And so we lift our gaze,

not to what stands between us,

but to who stands before us.

 

Because being Christ followers

is more than a name we inherit.

It’s the past we step into

and how we repair it.

We’ve seen a force

that could shatter a faith,

rather than share it.

And yet the wisdom is ours before we knew it.

Somehow we do it.

Somehow we weather and witness

a faith that isn’t broken,

but simply unfinished.

 

We, the followers of Christ,

let the same mind be in us

that was also in Jesus.

Same mindset,

    same soulset,

    same set of practices,

our lives witnesses of emptying and influence.

 

Let the Spirit, if nothing else, say this is true

that even as we grieved, we grew,

that even as we hurt, we hoped,

that even as we emptied ourselves in love

we made space for the Holy Dove

to gather under her wings this motley crew

who represents you,

Jesus. Christ. Our. Lord.

We empty, and with humble influence,

resist the rat-race of competition,

repel ruthless individualism,

refuse toxic consumerism.

We empty, and with humble influence exhibit to the world

the reality AND practice,

the art AND science

of common life ordered

‘round this non-sovereign Lord.

We empty, and with humble influence

envision the promise of prophets.

Picture everyone under their own vine and fig tree

    and no one, not you, not me, afraid.

If we’re to live up to our own time,

then victory joins supremacy,

but in emptying.

A mission that is bruised but whole,

benevolent but bold,
fierce and free and emptying,

with God whose specialty is resurrecting.

 

God calls the church to resurrection,

mystery of reconnection.

We will recover, reconcile, rebuild,

from the bottom

til the whole earth is filled

with the love of God

as the water covers the sea.

 

God’s dreams for the world

will emerge from the magnetic crucible,

battered and beautiful,

renewing and bountiful,

blooming and hospitable.

God’s dreams for the universe unfurled

from a Jesus Community for the world.

On Sunday, a scripture passage from Psalm 30 was read. This invoked in me the following poem, turning mourning into joy. May you catch the joy experienced by the Psalmist.

 MOURNING CHANGES TO JOY

The Psalmist states, “Lord, you changed my mourning into dancing. 

You took off my funeral clothes and dressed me up in joy.”

God, for far too long I have been in mourning;

I have forgotten that in you is joy complete.

My siblings and my wife have died and left me in mourning.

But God, the time has come for me to put my mourning clothes away.

I will remember my departed loved ones,

But with joy and not with mourning.

I am alive, and thankful for what brings life abundantly.

My family, children and grandchildren love me dearly

God, you gave me Mary, with whom I find such joy complete.

My mourning clothes are put into the far reaches of my closet,

What now brings me joy?

Mary brings much joy each day as we reflect on God’s great love.

Excitement with my children and grandchildren 

Who show much love so many times and in so many ways.

God, help me remember that you continually bring joy,

That you desire for me to envelop that joy

And share it with all who are near and far.

Thank you for this joy of loving and living in your grace filled love.

GilbertG  26-05-11 

The Jailor in Philippi: A Midrash Interpretation

 The jailer,Leon Phillip, was having a restful dinner with his family when the servant came with a note from the town officials. Leon’s family wondered what this meant. Would their dad be required to work at night again?

James, a rambunctious twelve-year-old, already knew that his dad always needed to go to work when the town officials called him. James’ older brother, Leon II, was home for a few days, and heard the message for their dad. Both were frustrated that their dad again would need to work at that awful jail instead of spending time with the family. But work was work, and the family always needed money!

Leon Phillip left for the jail to take care of the prisoners. Once there, he found out that the job would be harder than usual. The town officials had imprisoned two men, Paul and Silas. The other officials had already stripped and severely beaten the two strangers, and now clearly wanted them out of the way. They demanded that Leon put the men into the worst section of the jail, if it could be called a jail. It was a dungeon, with wet floors from some underground stream. Leon might not have felt this necessary, but maybe these men really were rabble rousers and needed to be put into the dungeon with their feet and hands in stocks and chains..

Leon’s wife, Hannah, did not like these demanding utterances, but knew she had no option. She worried every day that something drastic would happen. She breathed a sigh of relief each time her jailer husband walked into their humble abode. But this night was different. She heard tremendous thunder and then felt the earthquake. Whatever was happening? Hannah checked on her boys and then settled down worriedly in her small kitchen. A few dishes had fallen and cracked. Hannah was scared. She called the family together so they could wait out the rumbling ground.

 

Meanwhile, Leon had tossed the prisoners into the dungeon as he had been instructed.. As he sat in the crowded room, next to the usual prison cells, he was shocked when he heard singing coming from the depth of the dungeon. Who were these men? Normally the prisoners just yelled and screamed, always complaining about being incarcerated. While mulling over the situation, Leon was tossed against the wall as a massive earthquake occurred. He heard lots of rumbling coming from the jail cells. 

“Oh no”, he muttered in fear. “The prisoners!. What if they will use this confusion as a means of escape? I will not only lose my job, but maybe my head as well. Someone will need to tell my family. I just can’t bear the thought of Hannah and the boys left alone, but I surely don’t want my negligence to impact their lives. It’s best that I end my life; maybe I will give them a chance of a better life away from this horrible place.” Leon the grabbed a knife and sought to cut his throat.

“No, don’t do that,” Paul cried out. “We are still all here. None of us have fled.”

“Who are you?” Leon yelled as he shook in fear. “And why have you not run? “What power do you possess that all have stayed in this awful hole? Please tell me what I need to do to also have this assurance.

Leon took the two hated prisoners and washed their sores, put on some salve and then gave them their clothes. He then took them home.

“What are you doing, Leon? Why are you bringing these men into our home? I am scared.” Hannah cried out in anguish. “You were told to put them in that awful dungeon, what possessed you to bring them into our home?

“Just listen to their story. They bring a message of love and peace” a smiling Leon declared. This is so amazing. They bring joy and love, not disruption and hate.” Leon excitedly cried out.

Paul and Silas were ushered into the small sitting room, and then spent the next hour telling the family what Christ had done for them. Leon, Hannah, Leon II and James listened,  spellbound. All realized that this was what they had been missing from their lives. After committing to following the Christ revealed to them by Paul and Silas, the family members were baptized.

Instead of losing his job, Leon was told to release the prisoners.

FRIDAY IS HERE BUT SUNDAY IS COMING

This shorter poem was written on Saturday. This weekend is full of experiences that continue to lead me toward the significance of the crucifixion!

Good Friday–but the disciples are afraid!

Good Friday–and the soldiers come with swords.

Good Friday–Judas betrays his teacher!

Good Friday–Pilate sends Jesus to be crucified.

Good Friday? What makes it “good”?

God wanted to show his love to us.

God allowed Jesus to be crucified,

And we are the beneficiaries of that love.

Jesus took my place, and died for me!

That’s what makes this Friday “Good”.

Without Good Friday, where would we be?

Remember this–the crucifixion made us free.

Good Friday–but Sunday is coming!

Sunday–the day of resurrection

Sunday–the glorious day of victory!

GilbertG 26-04-04

WHAT MAKES THIS FRIDAY GOOD?

 Written after a wonderful Good Friday service, with songs, readings and scripture texts. 

I went home and wrote the following before the euphoria wore off!

 

The pressure mounts, the disciples wonder what comes next.

They loved the parade with Jesus being praised.

They shrank back as Jesus overthrew the Temple moneychangers!

What is the meaning of all this?

They get together for a grand, joyous passover meal,

Again they wonder what all the words of Jesus mean.

He talks about giving his blood and body in order that

They can be part of the kingdom; part of God’s body.

And what is this about Judas being sent to do “What you must do.”

The disciples are filled with wonderful food

But the  atmosphere remains somewhat tense because of Jesus’ words to Judas,

But this is a time of celebration; the passover brings joy.

The disciples want to celebrate, to spend quality time with Jesus.

He tells them to go with him into the garden

They thought that this is strange; why leave this comfortable upper room

Why now go the garden in the cool of the night

Jesus goes on further to pray and seek the Father’s will

Again the disciples are left to wonder why this seems so heavy

The passover was a joyous event and now this?

The lateness of the hour was heavy on their eyes.

Jesus says, “The time has come” and leaves this place of prayer.

There is a crowd, so late at night, with lanterns, spears and swords.

And leading all is Judas–What is he doing with these men?

He greets Jesus with a kiss, a sign of deep betrayal

The men rush forward to ask his name

Jesus tells them who he is and with that

The soldiers rudely grab him and march him to the judgment hall

The disciples scatter to save themselves

A few disciples sneak a peak as they follow far behind

What is this about? And are their lives in danger?

Surely Jesus is not the revolutionary the leaders think he is.

Whatever will happen to him now? What about us?

And this disaster is called “Good” Friday!

How could this be when all seems so for naught.

Jesus, the leader sent to be crucified;

The followers scared and scattered

What do we make of this day?

Are we afraid that we, like Peter, will deny our Lord?

We gather silently to mourn the Master’s death.

This is Friday, full of unjust words and actions.

This is Friday–what makes it “Good”

We sorrow and mourn as we note the Cross

The symbol of Christ’s horrible death.

And yet we call the day “Good”

We must not dwell on the sorrow and the pain,

But rather recognize that all will be revealed

When Christ leaves the tomb in triumph.

We look forward to the Good.

Today we look forward to the Good shown to us by God.

This may be Friday, called Good, that leaves us wondering.

But we can say with confidence.

This is Friday, but Sunday is coming!

GilbertG  26-04-03

Good Friday