Break It Down

The fire is out, everyone is asleep and Canadian living lies on the floor. It’s Thanksgiving up at the D’Angelo Cottage. Dave Dewees’s funeral was yesterday, it was a beautiful service.

The lake looks amazing; blue skies and great shadows. By divine intervention or because of a sore back…or both, I am up. Everyone is asleep. I wonder how long before I wake Chris with the laptop. If I did wake him it would be good because then I could brew coffee!

What a bizarre two weeks for me. It is the fall and things are dying; dying with colour, dignity and grace. I live in fear of my changing seasons; of the great and final change, but also the changes I see in myself every day.

God never changes. The presence of the seasons themselves is evidence that God maintains creation amidst the change. But somehow the change must be a part of God’s nature, God’s desire or God’s creativity. It would be pretty boring if things never changed.

I met Roger this week, a “homeless person” at Sanctuary in Toronto. “It’s hard to figure out how God works”, I said. “It is reality that God works with us, in us, through us, around us and in spite of us, but it’s hard to discern when he’s doing what.” While Roger was finishing his second round of pizza and salad he spoke the Word back to me, “Why do we need to figure it out? We just need to let it be and relax.”

The Spirit doesn’t worry, it moves. And although we can’t see the Spirit move like the wind and through the seasons we need to join her. It’s like when you hear a song you love at a dance. No one may be dancing. It’s probably awkward as H E double hockey sticks, but we’re called to break it down.

Death

Death, it’s a funny thing. When I was a boy my grandparents died. My cat died. People died. I sat up late one night bawling, in fear, of death.

It seemed like a great darkness, death. I felt “the nothingness”, like in that movie. When I knew people who died it freaked me out. What happens after we die? What would happen to me or the people I love after we die?

I still fear death. It still makes me cry. It still feels senseless at times. The question of death inevitably leads us to the question of God. Why is that?

When I was a boy crying at night after funerals I cried out to God too. I didn’t know God then or if there was a God but I didn’t know where else to turn. Do we have anywhere else to turn?

I don’t want to believe in a life that ends in darkness; that ends with our lives, individually and corporately, amounting to nothingness. Where is the hope in that? Where is the redemption? No life after death leads to nihilism, anarchy and darkness.

When Jesus died and rose on the third day, I believe that, he conquered death. In Jesus’ resurrection from the dead he conquered death. Jesus was like The Warrior in WWF who comes back in the last round, beaten and bruised, to win the fight. Jesus is like a WWF wrestler layin the smack down on the nothingness in the last round.

Death is a funny thing, I believe, because it leads to life.