Legacy

 The link for this week's live-streamed service is here.

During the days of endless rain last week, I dutifully wrote in my gratitude journal, praising God for filling the reservoirs, restoring the rivers and streams, and degrading the risk of drought and wildfire this summer. All good reasons to be thankful. Yet, I confess, that was a more intellectual gratitude than a visceral one.

Then, on Friday, the clouds lifted. I took myself off to the Butchart Gardens and filled my senses. The fragrance of hyacinth lifted my spirits with every breath. The daffodils nodded their heads, cheering my soul. Blossoming trees against a blue, blue sky invited me to look upward. No need to work at gratitude when visiting the Gardens in spring. God's goodness is on full display.

The story goes that Jennie Butchart was appalled at the ugliness left behind from the family business of quarrying limestone and making cement. Then, one day while surveying the limestone pit, she had a vision. 

"The perpendicular quarry walls, twisted from dynamite blasting, dropped sixty feet to a quagmire of two and a half acres of clay. Out of a subterranean spring percolated a muddy creek which fed a deep pond on the quarry floor. A hummock of grey rock, unfit for cement, rose like a spire from the centre… Jennie Butchart stood and cried.

It was then an inspiration came to her, ‘Like a flame’ she was to say, ‘for which I shall ever thank God.” 

It was in that moment that the seed of what would become the world famous Butchart Gardens was planted.

I also gave thanks for Jennie Butchart and her descendants for making this jewel accessible to local residents. The cost of a yearly pass (equivalent to two regular admissions) is the best deal around. In the spring I can visit for the daffodils, a week later for the tulips, and a week after that for the azaleas. In summer I can enjoy the many concerts as well as the rose garden, the lilies, the sweet peas, and the zinnias. Come winter, I'm welcome to take in the Christmas light up or the Spring Prelude in February. All on my yearly pass.

The home the Butchart's built on this site was named "Benvenuto," meaning welcome in Italian. A highly fitting name since they welcomed thousands of visitors to enjoy the garden. The transformation of the limestone quarry began in 1904 and by 1915, they reported 18,000 visitors. By 1925 the yearly total was more than 50,000. During that time, the Butchart's did not charge admission, but offered all these visitors a cup of tea.

On Saturday we held a funeral at SPPC for Erma, a member of our congregation who had lived a "long and adventurous life." The pews were filled with folk from many walks of life -- Erma had broad interests. There were young and old and in-between. There were relatives by blood and "family" by choice. She left a legacy of affection and example.

We heard over and over that she greeted life, whether it be hard or pleasant, with a smile on her face. We heard of the stream of people who passed through her front door and shared a meal at the family table. We heard of her general belief in "love your neighbour" and we heard of instances when that love was shown, as a teacher, a volunteer, a shoulder to lean on. 

She lived life with kindness, curiosity and love for others. 

In an age when one the world's richest men is campaigning against philanthropy, we need role models like Jennie Butchart and Erma. We need the example of those who walk with God and hold out a helping hand to a neighbour.

When our time on this earth ends, would we rather be remembered  for amassing measureless wealth or for our kindness, and generosity, and faithfulness? 

Rooted in Faith

 The link to this week's live-streamed service is here.

Browsing through the latest edition of Presbyterian Connection I noticed a familiarity about the shared photos of church life. There was the Sunday School Pageant, the candlelight service, the white gift packaging, the neighbourhood lunch, birthday cakes . . . It struck me that the church names under the photos could be rearranged, and the story would still make sense. All that baking, knitting, quilting, feeding, nurturing--it's what we as churches do.

Then an article on Elmvale Presbyterian Church caught my eye. The congregation is 165 years old. It existed before the Presbyterian Church in Canada was formed. History fascinates me, so I read the article in full. The writer pointed out that the long history of this congregation, was a history of faith. No doubt they have been involved in "works" but what has sustained them and kept them vibrant for generations is their faith. They be before they do.

Last week we held a memorial service for one of SPPC's long-time members, Anne MacKinnon. The words spoken reminded us of her long service and the "works" she performed, as greeter, elder, Sunday School teacher and superintendent, and as a welcoming presence in our fellowship. Her legacy shows in our library, in the piano in the hall and in the lives of those she touched.

The service contained several hymns, hymns that Anne selected. Here she revealed what lay closest to her heart.  If we consider the words of her choosing, we see again, that "works" flowed from faith. 

"He shall not suffer that thy foot be moved/Safe shalt thou be."
"O Thou who changest not, abide with me."
"Death's mightiest powers have done their worst;/But Jesus hath His foes dispersed;"
"Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale, /Yet will I fear none ill;/For Thou art with me:"
"Thou our Father, Christ our Brother,/All who live in love are Thine."

Our Sister, Anne, had busy hands and an active mind, but when we examine her choice of hymns, we see she had a heart for faith that triumphed when her hands lay still and her mind slowed.

As our congregation seeks to serve and encourage at home and abroad, we must remember that our works must flow from our faith, or we become just another helping agency. Works are important, no doubt about that, but they are for a season. Faith is eternal. Like Anne and like Elmvale Presbyterian, let us hold that faith as a high beacon to light the ways of our doing.

 

Conversations

 The link for this week's live-streamed service is here.

 The photo at left shows a letter written to SPPC from Zach, age 8. Zach attends Jesus is Lord congregation, that meets in our sanctuary on Sunday afternoons. 

Zach says he "works" at JIL. I think there is a lesson for us there. Most of us "attend" church, a much more passive activity than "working" at church. I know, lots of us, maybe all of us, volunteer in some capacity, but the idea of working during worship intrigues me. Do we work at listening to the service? Do we work at taking the message from Rev. Irwin's sermons? Do we work during the prayers and hymns to make the words our own? Do we work to make our corporate worship a true connection to God and His people? Does Zach have something to teach us?

Zach says he loves to "praise God and that is all," but it is not all. He goes on to ask God's blessing and Jesus' protection on SPPC. 

Last Sunday, Rev. Irwin challenged us to do "one hidden act of costly service" over the week. Zach's letter of encouragement is not hidden, but his costly service of penning it brought cheer to my heart. Thank you Zach, and to the congregation of JIL for their praise to God and their prayers for SPPC.

                                                               

This Sunday, SPPC received another blessing, Rev. Wes Denyer filled the pulpit while Rev. Irwin ministered to St. Andrew's Presbyterian in Victoria. 

The sermon was "Talking about important things." Those important things turned out to be conversations about faith. Those are difficult discussions to have at the best of times, but when folk are divided by age, or gender, or nationality, or traditions, they can be even more fraught. 

We often avoid those talks by changing the subject, remembering an "urgent errand," or hiding behind a coffee cup. 

The scripture passage for the sermon was John 4, the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman. Here a Jewish man and a Samaritan woman -- that's an enormous social gulf -- have a meaningful conversation about faith. Not a lecture, not an argument, not a trial -- just a conversation, both spoke, both listened. 

Next time the topic of faith arises in discussion, we would do well to remember Jesus' example, and engage in meaningful conversation. 

Zach has done that, reaching across a gap in ages, a difference of denomination, and a difference in culture. (The JIL congregation comes mostly from a Philippine background.) He speaks of faith with a heart for praise and prayer. Zach's note is the start of an important conversation.

***

On a side note, I wish to commend everyone who moved the clocks ahead on Saturday night and still made it to worship on Sunday morning. Praise God the day was filled with sunshine.

Family Time

 The link to this week's live-streamed service is here.

I went away for a few days last weekend for a family event in Ontario. As the picture at left shows, the snow was deep and soft and beautiful. Fortunately, it was not falling on our travel days so we only experienced the gorgeous landscape not the frustrating, dangerous slipping and sliding and heart-in-your mouth driving.

I had a wonderful time catching up with three generations of family and even some old high school buddies. Mostly we gathered around a table, whether for dinner, brunch, coffee or snacks. It seems food draws family together.

When I returned to N. Saanich, I found several sets of photos in my e-mail. Apparently SPPC had been using food to draw the church family together.

Thanks to Joan, I have these photos of the sunshine lunch, with its Valentine theme.

Janet sent me these pictures of the out-to-lunch bunch at Good Fortune restaurant. It was quite a bunch, eighteen to be exact.

Then one more photo from Friday's Friendship Coffee. This time there were 25 present, a high turnout, even for this popular program.

Building family memories together is a boon to the heart. It would seem the same holds true of our church relationships.

Despite the beauty of the snowy woods of Ontario, I couldn't refrain from sending back this photo of blooming Victoria in the month of February.

Back to Mitford

 This week's live-streamed service is available on our youtube channel here.

Among my Christmas haul of books, was the latest in the Mitford series by Jan Karon, My Beloved.

For those familiar with the town of Mitford and its denizen's particularly Father Tim, this book feels like a homecoming. Familiar characters are there -- Cynthia, Dooley, Lace, Esther and Ray Cunningham, Harley and Willie -- but, like the author, they are older. Father Tim is fully retired and his joints are creaky. Ray has a health scare and Esther is pretty well housebound. 

The author admits that she "quit" Mitford a couple of times before this book arrived in her imagination. Jan Karon herself is in her late eighties so it's no wonder her characters are looking at more life behind than before them. 

If you haven't read any of the Mitford books before, I'd suggest starting with one or two of the earlier volumes. My Beloved feels like it picks up in the middle of the story and if you haven't met the characters before or have a notion of the town, you might be confused. The action in the book is quick and the point of view jumps from one character to another with each chapter. Perhaps at her age, the author feels she hasn't time to waste on setting or backstory.😀

Our dear Anne M, who passed away last weekend, was a great fan of Jan Karon. She introduced me to the Mitford books. She also initiated our church library, which includes a set of the Mitford novels for anyone to enjoy. In honour of Anne, I've donated My Beloved to our shelves to complete the set. 

I heartily recommend this series. The stories are funny, poignant, and inspirational. Maybe start with At Home in Mitford, and go from there.

Ed. Note: The book has been donated, but is already out on loan. It will be available for sharing in a week or two.

Hidden Talents

 The link for this week's live-streamed service is here.

I was asked the other day, if our church had a craft group. The answer is no, but the question made me think of all the artistic/crafty people in the congregation. 

We have many knitters and quilters in the congregation including Diane and Vivien and your webmistress.

 Our Ann N wrote a delightful story for her grandchildren. "The Two Naughty Squirrels" tells the story of Sam and Sidney along with various other visitors to Ann's backyard. While the story makes a bedtime read for grandchildren, the photographs will delight anyone lucky enough to snag a copy. 

Ann has generously donated a box of "The Two Naughty Squirrels," to SPPC. They are in the narthex and free for the taking.

Thank you, Ann, for sharing your talent with our congregation.

Speaking of photography, we have another hidden resource at SPPC. Meta A takes beautiful photographs and uses them to create greeting cards. Whenever I receive one of her cards I feel as though I've been given two gifts -- a pretty card and the personal care and attention of Meta, who created it.

Meta's husband, Brian qualifies under the "artist" column as well,
turning out beautiful wooden bowls on his lathe. Some of his creations are made from trees that have fallen on the SPPC property. 

We have a painter in our midst. Ruth S's watercolours are a treat for the eyes. You can view them on her own website, Wildwood Watercolours.

And here is another example of card-making from my own keepsake box. Peter C made this several years ago. 

He has since moved into making jewellery out of exotic woods. You can see photos of his work here.

So, while I told my friend, we do not have a crafters group at SPPC, we are not short of crafty talent!

A few weeks ago, the congregation made a list of assets, while we enjoyed lunch together. You can read a copy of it here. It is quite an exhaustive list, but, as these few examples illustrate, it is incomplete. The talents, enthusiasms and creativity of individual congregants should be included in our list of "assets." 

snowdrop walk

 The link for this week's live-streamed service is here.

On a bleak, wet, foggy, dark day last week I read a post that began with the words, "snowdrop walk." I cheered up immediately, and resolved to go on my own walk in search of snowdrops.

I found these ones at my neighbour's front door. 

These were right across the road. 

These were in Dominion Brook Park, just a block and a half from Saanich Peninsula Presbyterian Church. 

 Even though I was in search of snowdrops, I couldn't help but add this dash of brilliant colour from a camellia bush.

 As a bonus, the flowers grew by a stream, so sight was enhanced by sound, the rush and gurgle of flowing water. Life!

On an impulse, I checked out our church yard, and, sure enough, there were a few brave little blossoms nodding their heads beneath the big cedar in our parking lot. 

How often do we search far afield for a treasure, only to find that it is right in front of us all along?

Over the Christmas season, I made several trips to Victoria, thinking I'd find the perfect gift in one of the big malls, or maybe on Government Street. More often than not, I came home disappointed, only to find what I sought was right there on Beacon Avenue in Sidney.

Modern culture is obsessed with "success." Papers, magazines, the internet … open any one of them and you'll find a formula for "success" - in business, in relationships, in health, in fame -- with the guarantee that "this" path will lead you to happiness. Such stories sell products but I doubt they really create happiness for readers.

This TED talk, posits that happiness come first and success, however you define that, will follow.

Our Wednesday study raised the question of whether the Kingdom of God is some longed for utopia in the future, or whether if is here now, on earth. Jesus addressed that question in Luke 17: 20-21  Once, on being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, Jesus replied, ‘The coming of the kingdom of God is not something that can be observed,  nor will people say, “Here it is,” or “There it is,” because the kingdom of God is in your midst.

I pondered that notion while I searched for snowdrops, and found I was in the midst of them. 

In 2014 I posted "Signs of Hope" on this blog. Most of the photos showed spring flowers pushing through a snowdrift. But one showed a determined little tree growing out of the top of a fence post. While looking for snowdrops, I went back to see what had become of the tree. 

It's still there, still surviving in a hostile environment, still soaking up the sunshine and the rain. It made me very happy.

With the pace and range of change the world and the church faces today, we may find the Kingdom of Heaven rooted more in the fence post than the flowerbed, but we can be assured it is "in our midst."