A thoughtful man recently said to me, “Have you ever noticed how, when we quote the Bible in church, it is always the nice, gentle passages? But there is a lot of other stuff in the Bible that is not so nice. Why don’t we talk about those parts too?” It seems to me he has a good point, and it seems especially appropriate as we once again come to Earth Day. On Earth Day we tend to celebrate the beautiful and majestic about nature, and the lovable and cuddly about animals. But nature is like the Bible; there is a lot of nasty stuff in it.  There are earthquakes and volcanoes and tsunamis in nature, as well as flowery meadows and gorgeous sunsets. There are deadly viruses and ticks and mosquitoes as well as birds and butterflies. But we do not often celebrate that other side on Earth Day. In fact, we regard those nasty things as our enemies. Maybe we are a bit one-sided.

That was in my mind as I was reading an article in Christian Century by Calvin DeWitt, a professor of Environmental Studies at the University of Wisconsin. It is entitled “Behold the Hippo,” and it is based on a biblical text we rarely read in church on Earth Day or any other time, Job 40. That is the place where the writer has God finally speak to long-suffering Job, only to tell him to shut up look at the world around him. Now that is kind of harsh, you might think, considering that Job has, through no fault of his own, lost his spouse and children, and been afflicted with a skin disease that makes him a horror to all his remaining friends. But God is unsympathetic. “Where were you when I made all this?” God demands of Job. Then God directs Job’s attention to several aspects of Creation, including a creature called Behemoth.

It turns out that the Hebrew name “Behemoth” is, in English, “Hippopotamus.” Thus the title of the article. This is what God has to say about the hippo in Job 40 (NRSV):

Now I have seen hippos in zoos, and there they can be amusing to watch. But I have been told that there is nothing amusing about confronting them in the wild; if, say, one is attempting to steer a boat up a river where they make their home. There is nothing cute or loveable about them. And they are useless to humans, except perhaps as a lure to adventure tourists in some impoverished nation. But, according to the Bible, the hippo is “the first of the great acts of God.”

So there it is. Job presents us with one of those Bible verses we tend to avoid, one in which God tells an innocent suffering human to suck it up and see the Big Picture. This part of the Bible directs our attention to one of those passages in the Book of Nature that we tend to overlook on Earth Day. Let’s be real with the Bible, and not ignore all those parts we don’t like. And let’s be real with Earth Day. We celebrate “all things bright and beautiful,” yes. But let’s not ignore the dangerous and the useless, because, among them, we find “the first of the great acts of God.” After all, as Job learned, it’s not all about us. Behold, the hippo!

From the Pews blog

Recently, a friend of mine has been going through a very difficult experience, the death of a parent.  Her mother has been ill for a long time, and has passed away after a long fight.  Talking to her through this time, has been sometimes really hard for me, as I went through a similar situation myself 4 years ago, when my mother passed away.  This time has brought back a lot of difficult memories for me, but has also provided me with many moments of reflection as well.

My mother was diagnosed with cancer in 1999.  She went through surgery, chemotherapy and radiation therapy. This was a difficult time for our family as we were living in Thompson at the time and my mom had to come back and forth to Winnipeg for some of her treatment.  For a while my mom was better, but she was diagnosed again in 2004.  This time there was not the same kind of hope as the first, as she was told that her cancer was now terminal.  At the time of this happening, I was newly married and remember being told that my mother would not live to see my children born.  This was devastating to all the members of our family, but my mom was certainly not a quitter!  She spent the next four years battling and she did live to see her first grandchild born. Sadly, she lost her fight in 2008.  Being with my mom in her final days was a humbling, terrifying and life changing experience for me.  When my mom died, the predominant feeling I had was one of relief, her pain was finally over and I was reassured by the fact that I knew she had gone to a better place.  As time has gone by I have grieved for my mom, as her grandchildren have been born, as they grow up, as I go through difficult times and think “I wish my Mom was still here”  Now, I see my friend going through a similar difficult time, and I still have a hard time finding words that will be comforting.

These are the things I can say to my friend.  Please do not be afraid, God is with you, he is with your mother and he will not leave your side.  As you grieve, remember there is something better waiting for us at the end, something that will make all the tears and sadness in our time here on Earth worth going through.  In times of our life that are difficult, it is then that it can be the hardest to find faith and comfort in the Lord, but these are the times when we should be leaning on him the most, for he is the one who will comfort us when no one else can.  During this time, accept the help from those around you who are offering it, God has sent these people to you and no one has to go through this alone.  Take this time of mourning to remember the good in her life and celebrate the life that was lived, for God put us here to live on earth first and then go on to be with Him.

The death of a person we love is a traumatic thing for all of us, and we all grieve in our own unique ways.  But it can be an opportunity for us as well, an opportunity to take a sad, negative thing and grow into someone who is closer to God because of it.  And though the pain of losing a loved one never goes away entirely, I can say that it does get easier if you can get through one day at a time, remembering that God is with you.

Stacey Milne-Ciecko

I am a stay at home mom of 3 busy boys.
Reading is my favorite hobby, and reading with my kids is the best part of my day.
I spend most of my days just a little bit frazzled, but always try to keep smiling!

From the Pews blog

As the two voices rise in volume, other sounds hush. From across the room at the West Broadway Drop-in Centre, it is obvious that trouble is near. The three members of the Pastoral Care team, including me, rise simultaneously from our chairs in various parts of the hall. Ella, a pretty, dark-haired young woman, stands staring at Wilma, an older, larger, stronger woman whose face shows all the signs of a hard life. Wilma smirks at Ella, then turns to speak to her table companions. In a voice audible across the room , she describes Ella’s character in uncomplimentary terms. Ella’s antiphon comments on Wilma’s ancestry in a trembling voice. Murmurs of agreement and censure begin to arise from others. Sides are being chosen.

The three of us begin to converge, slowly and cautiously, on the space between the two women. We know that violence, possibly knife-assisted, is in the air. Bill goes toward the office to alert Judy, our manager today, that a 411 call might be needed. Barb finds an empty chair near Wilma, looking for a chance to begin a conversation. I find myself standing near Ella. “You will be safe here, I promise,” I say to her in the softest, calmest voice I can muster. She turns her frightened, dark eyes on me, and begins to share with me the delusional world that has enveloped her this afternoon. She has been told by an angel to save the world, but the Devil has promised to kill her if she tries. I listen, stunned by the burden she is bearing. During the occasional silences, I repeat my attempts at reassurance.

Eventually, Ella remembers that she has to make a phone call. I notice that Wilma has picked up another cup of coffee, and taken a seat across the room. Bill, Barb and I sit down together, our eyes still alert. Also at our table is Lawrence, an aboriginal elder who often drops by mid-afternoons. He is a quiet man with a shy smile, but, if one listens carefully, many wise observations can be gleaned from his few words. We share some tea and cookies, and gradually the sense of danger recedes, even though both women are still in the room.

A request for emergency food turns my attention to an interview, then a trip to the pantry. When I return, a half hour has passed since the original crisis. When I take my chair, back to the wall, with a view of the whole room, I see a miracle. A small miracle, yes; but a very real one. Lawrence is sitting at a table with Ella. They are speaking with each other quietly, seriously. Then Lawrence unleashes one of his smiles, and Ella laughs. The tension flows from her like water from a south-facing icicle in the full March sun.

Lawrence is not part of our Pastoral Care Team, but he has just done what none of us have been able to do this afternoon, and it definitely qualifies as pastoral care. I begin to pray, silently and with my eyes open.

Mysterious Presence, thank you for Lawrence, your special gift to us today. Help us always to be open and hospitable, so that such angels may enter our lives. Preserve the traditions that form people like Lawrence into healers. Give us respect for ways that surpass our understanding. Give me some share of this healing power, so that I may also perform these small miracles. Or even bigger ones, if that is your will. Bless Wilma, that her sense of dignity will grow to the degree that will allow her to tell the difference between real enemies and people who are in trouble and need help. And stay close to Ella. Protect her from her demons, and give her true and lasting healing. Amen

John Badertscher is an old guy
who sometimes wears sunglasses
in a futile effort to look
like Jack Nicholson.

From the Pews blog

There are so many things about the winter that will make me stop and look around in wonder; beautiful falling snow, the magic of snowflakes, no two ever alike and hoarfrost on the trees.  Looking at all these things will often make me think about the beauty of the world we live in, and the gifts we have been given by God.

Last year, one fine winter morning, my husband and I decided to take our kids tobogganing.  My three boys are still pretty young, so this was the first time we had all done this together as a family and my first time since I was a little kid.  When we got to the hill at King’s Park, I looked down and was shocked to find that what I had remembered as being a super fun thing to do when I was a child, was now a bit terrifying.  I wasn’t so sure about this tobogganing thing anymore. But, as we were there already and the kids were so excited, I got myself on the sled, took a deep breath and zoomed down the hill.  As we slid down the hill, completely out of control, barely missing other sleds and kids climbing back up, I was still terrified!   We made it to the bottom safe and sound, just like all the others at the hill that day.  It was so much fun, we did it again and again, though the fear I felt at the beginning never went away entirely.

It occurs to me now that my feelings towards faith are a little like that ride down the hill.  I had to just let go and let it happen, trusting that I would make it safely down the hill.  The feeling of not being in control is kind of like giving it up to God. I don’t always have to have all the answers or know what will happen, God does.  Having Faith in the unknown can be pretty scary at times, knowing that there is something out there that is bigger than all of us can be a frightening thing, but it can also turn out to be a pretty fantastic experience. I have a very hard time giving up control, but to really believe and have faith, you have to let go, and know that no matter what happens, God will be with you wherever you are and whatever you are doing.  So it is a scary thing, but also a crazy, amazing feeling.

To truly live faithfully can be a difficult thing.  No one ever said it would be easy!  There have been many times over the years that I have felt scared, sad or lonely and have spent a lot of time questioning God’s plan, but to be faithful, I have had to give up the questions and just believe.  Just knowing that God is there, helps me when I am standing at the top of the hill, trying to decide if I should go zooming down, and the answer, terrifying thought it might be, is always Yes!

Stacey Milne-Ciecko

I am a stay at home mom of 3 busy boys.
Reading is my favorite hobby, and reading with my kids is the best part of my day.
I spend most of my days just a little bit frazzled, but always try to keep smiling!

From the Pews blog

It was a late summer day, a couple of years ago, when Darlene phoned us about her problem: too many apples. You remember that summer, when the apple trees produced as if preparing for a famine? Would the West Broadway Drop-in Centre like to have some apples, Darlene wondered? Actually, I replied, the apple glut has already reached our inner-city ministry. They are begging for mercy on the grounds of no storage space.

After the call ended, I found myself troubled. There are lots of folks in this part of town with no apple trees, and not much money for fresh fruit from the market either. If Darlene’s family can grow the apples, pick them and put them in bags, why should we not at least help to distribute them? I picked up the phone and, not long after, Lynn and I had a formidable load of apples in our car, wondering where to begin.

We settled on some low-cost housing we had barely noticed before, even though it was about a ten minute walk from our condo. We pulled into the driveway cautiously. To our surprise, it was a large community tucked into a bend in the river, just across from where we often ride our bikes. There are hundreds of people living here, we realised. Darlene’s apples have found a home.

And so we went from door to door, offering the apples. Sometimes we were met with suspicion and silence, of course. “Nobody gives you something for free,” we could read in their eyes, no doubt reflecting life’s hard experiences. Two young girls ran away when I offered my apples. Immediately I realised that they were behaving more rationally than I was, and decided to confine my offers to adults.

But most folks greeted us openly. An older man in a wheel chair, surrounded by family in his kitchen, said with a twinkle in his eye that he knew some good pie-bakers. One mother took two bags, gesturing at the flock of children playing in front of her unit. After some time I found myself at a unit signed as the “Women’s Drop-in Centre.” Several mothers were visiting with each other while their children played together. The remainder of our apples stayed there.

Reflecting later, we found that the visit had changed us in an unexpected way. We went there a bit fearfully, hoping that the act of giving would make us feel good – a typical “do-gooder” approach. We ended up feeling good about the visit, not so much because we had given, but because we had received. We had been treated as neighbours. Our efforts to unload our unwanted surplus were received with respect and graciousness by many. We were treated as equals, as human beings with both needs and gifts just like all the folks living in that hidden housing estate. We received smiles, not of gratitude so much as of acceptance – of us as well as our burden of apples. “Sure, we can help you. That’s how we live here,” was the silent message of the smiles. We had been blessed by the gift of acceptance.

Later still, it struck me that the whole experience was a powerful metaphor for all life in community, especially that community of faith we call church. The Creator keeps pouring unexpected surpluses upon us. They can look like apples, or questions, or money, or things we enjoy doing and maybe are pretty good at. We can ignore the surpluses, leaving them on the ground of life to rot; but after a while they get smelly and slimy. We can try to eat them all ourselves; but doing that we risk making ourselves sick. We can try to sell them all; but that can be hard work that consumes our lives. Or we can do what Darlene did: ask some friends to help us find a home for the surplus. And we can do what Lynn and I, however hesitantly or fearfully or pridefully, finally decided to do, and risk the unexpected, life-changing blessings that may follow that decision.

“Got any surplus apples?“

John Badertscher is an old guy
who sometimes wears sunglasses
in a futile effort to look
like Jack Nicholson.

 From the Pews blog

Why am I here?  For me, here is the United Church in Meadowood.  At Meadowood, I am a member of the church, I am a Sunday School teacher, I am a co-chair of the Christian Education Committee and a member of council.  I also help run the Meadowood Munchkins program.  These are the roles that I play in this church.  Recently, I was asked “Why?” I typically have a difficult time talking about my reasons for being part of a faith community, some people are even surprised to hear that I go to church. I don’t generally take part in discussions about faith or believing, I have a tendency to get emotional and have a hard time expressing myself.  Lately though, I have been feeling more and more like I should invite these questions and share my answers with others.  So here are my reasons for coming to this place, and I would ask it of you also.  Why are you here?

I am here because I am a Christian who believes in God and Jesus Christ.  I am here because I was baptised and confirmed in the United Church. I am here because the first time I walked into this building I felt welcomed and accepted, as though I already belonged here. I am here because when I pray, I truly feel as though someone is listening. I am here because I believe that it is a good thing for my children to be brought up in a faith community and the only way to do that is by coming to church, and really becoming a presence in that community.  I am here because when I teach a child and they take something home with them like a song to share with their family, I feel like I have taught that child something valuable.  I am here because when a child walks in on Sunday morning and is happy to see me, I feel like I have made an impact on that child.  I am here because when I offer the gift of my time, I am given back so much more in return through the support and good thoughts of others.  I am here because I truly believe that if children are taught meaningful lessons in Sunday School, then that will come out in other areas of their lives.  I am here because I feel as though this place and the people in it will help me to grow and learn and become a better person.  I am here because I feel I have the time and energy to offer something to a place and a group of people that does good and valuable work in the community.

These are some of my reasons, they may be the same as yours, or totally different.  I think that whatever your reasons for being here are, it is important to ask this question of ourselves.  Why am I here, what can I take from this place and also, what can I give to this place?  How we answer that question may lead us to places we hadn’t thought of before.

I am here because when I walk into this building, I feel a sense of peace and that is pretty hard to come by in other places in the world.  When I am here, I have a sense of reason for the past, a handle on the present and faith and hope for the future.

Stacey Milne-Ciecko

I am a stay at home mom of 3 busy boys.
Reading is my favorite hobby, and reading with my kids is the best part of my day.
I spend most of my days just a little bit frazzled, but always try to keep smiling!

From the Pews blog

Please watch this new UCiM Feature, which will feature the voices of our Brothers & Sisters in our faith community as they share their own faith journeys, questions, challenges &/or doubts From the Pews!