Come...rest a while.

Have you ever felt guilty for taking a break? For stopping? For resting?

In the fast paced, demanding world that we live in, rest seems almost contrary to the way we are to be.  

Have you ever wondered:

• Will people think I am lazy?

• If I disengage what will I miss? Or will the things I typically do get done?

• Will I lose my competitive edge, will I be less effective?

• If I stop, will people forget me and move on?

Do we secretly glorify the people who seem to do it all, no matter the cost?  Or worse yet, expect that of them?

After a very busy time of ministry, physically, emotionally and spiritually, the disciples gathered around Jesus to tell him all they had done and taught.  The Bible tells us that even after they returned from their exhausting journey, people would still be “coming and going,” enough that the disciples “did not even have time to eat” (Mark 6: 31).  I love what Jesus says to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while.”

It was a very clear instruction.  Come.  Not, “think about it”. Not, “It would be a good idea if you…” or “I suggest…”.  

He said, Come with me… and rest a while.

Jesus knew that we can get so busy doing things for God that we neglect our primary relationship with Him! Come with me… and rest a while.

The command to “rest” isn’t just for our benefit. Nor is it a guilty pleasure we have to sneak. Instead, we should consider rest as a grace-filled reminder that we are beings of clay dependent on a much stronger God. As our energy levels dwindle (and they will), God promises, “Come to me… and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

This year marks seven wonderful years at Amberlea. They have been busy ministry years, physically, emotionally and spiritually. Rather than continue to run at an unsustainable pace I have decided to heed the words of my Saviour and “rest a while”.

So this summer I will be taking an Inter-Mission through to October 7th.  

What is an Inter-Mission? I am glad you asked. 

The Presbyterian Church in Canada provides for ministers to take an Inter-Mission. An Inter-Mission is approved by both Session and Presbytery. This is how it is defined in the  Acts and Proceedings 1992 p. 383-384:

“The Policy Committee of the Board of Ministry has been considering sabbaticals for professional church leaders in congregations. The term sabbatical means different things in different institutions but seems most widely known as an educational model. It was decided that a new term was needed. Such words as repose, sabbath, re-formation, re-creation, enrichment, sacred journey, oasis, hospice and inter-mission were all considered. The term inter-mission was chosen as it seemed to describe best what is proposed:  A time to get in touch with the Holy Other in our lives. This is done in repose, in line with Jurgen Moltmann's comment about God: "The true completion of creation, however, is on the ‘seventh day', the day when God takes up active repose wherein the creation is contemplated, blessed, enjoyed and pronounced ‘very good'.

This time is to be for the sake of self, not for congregation, the Church or for acquiring academic credentials. The mode is to be that of follower, not leader.”  

So with full support of the session of Amberlea and the Presbytery of Pickering, and full confidence that Amberlea church will continue to grow and prosper, I am going to rest. It is my prayer that during my time away that the Holy Spirit would refresh, renew refuel and recalibrate the various areas of my life.

I pray that you would also take time to rest and refresh this summer and that when we gather again in the Fall — as the body of Christ at Amberlea — we will be fit, ready and energized to do great things for the Kingdom!

Have a blessed, restful summer!

Going beyond

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year!”   For some it’s Christmas but for me it is VBC week!!! 

There is a beautiful kind of chaos going on at the church this week.  Inside, outside, every nook and cranny of the church occupied by children and committed and faithful leaders.  It is a beautiful sight!

Every 20 minutes or so, leaders in distinctive Amberlea shirts can be seen guiding little children to various stations in the church where, through a craft or activity, they learn about the point of the day. 

This year’s theme is To Mars and Beyond and through the week we are being reminded to:

Go Beyond with Faith!

Go Beyond with Boldness!

Go Beyond with Kindness!

Go Beyond with Thankfulness!

Go Beyond with Hope!

A good reminder for all of us, I’d say.  But what is simply awesome is that for some of our little campers this is the first time they are hearing about who God is and how much God loves them.

This week, I have a very special request of you.  I am posting this early so that you might join me in praying for our Vacation Bible Camp.

Please pray for:

• Nancy, Emma and our four awesome summer students, David, Grace, Nolan and Matthew. Pray for patience, energy, good health and opportunities to show God’s love to the children in their midst.

• All our volunteers, without whom this could not happen. Please pray for good health positive attitudes and energy. Please pray that they would be both a blessing and be blessed this week. 

• Our little campers - for safety and good health. Please pray that this week they might have an encounter with God and that they would know that they are loved by a Loving God.

• The families that each camper represent. Please pray that as parents or caregivers drop off and pick up their little ones that they too encounter God’s love through the songs, the activities, the crafts and the people who are selflessly serving their children this week.

I am asking you to pray because of what we are told in James 5:16, that “the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.”  and as it reads in the New Living Translation “It produces wonderful results.”  Pray with me for a glorious week!

This Thursday night we will gather at the church at 6 p.m. for the Amberlea Family BBQ.  I encourage you to join us in welcoming the children and families of this community. Let’s “go beyond” in demonstrating the love, generosity and hospitality of Jesus to our neighbours. All are welcome!

Then join us on Sunday morning at 11 am as we conclude our sermon series called, Called. 

I look forward to worshipping with you!

Where I learned to serve

Growing up, I was taught that there was no other, we were all somehow connected, the same.  Every person was to be valued.  The legacy of my devout Sikh grandmother was to teach me that we are to treat all people, regardless of religion, colour or socioeconomic status - with grace.  

I remember almost every day, during my regular visits to India growing up, I would go with my mother and grandmother to the Sikh gudwara, or temple.  We would travel by rickshaw, battling the hoards of people and the beasts that lay claim to the road, to a small unimpressive building.   When we arrived at our destination we walked along the dark dusty path to the doorway, where we took off our shoes before entering.  The place we entered seemed almost incompatible to its dreary exterior.  Inside it was bright and clean and smelt of incense and yummy spicy foods.   Some worshippers had already found their spot on the white sheets that swathed the carpet-bare floors.  The makeshift flooring made the room look crisper and much larger than it was.  The Guru Granth Sahib, the Sikh holy book, sat prominently in the room, upon a pillowed pedestal under an ornate canopy.  The book itself was covered with beautiful bright silk dressings not unlike the Guru Granth Sahib that took up a room in our home in Canada.

In India however, behind the Guru Granth Sahib sat a man with a long graying beard and a bright orange turban, this trained reader was called the granthi.  He could be heard chanting even before we entered the room.  I loved watching him as he would  wave the chauri  (typically made of nylon or yak hairs embedded in a silver or wooden handle) over the Guru Granth Sahib, a symbol of royalty and  a gesture of respect but I thought then it was to keep the flies from landing on the pages.   Regardless, there was a flow and a rhythm to his task.

With our heads covered, and our hands positioned palms together and fingers stretching skyward, we would follow my grandmother as she walked reverently up to the Guru Granth Sahib.   She would stop before the ornate canopy, whisper a prayer and then bow before the word of God.  Discretely, she would take the money that she held between her praying hands and place it the box on the floor.  My mom and I would do the same and then follow my grandmother to where she sat, cross-legged on the floor with the other worshippers.  The women sat on one side and the men on the other.   I would sit for only a moment until I caught a glimpse of the other children present.  

I remember, as a child, running around with my little friends and never once do I recall being told to sit still or be quiet, as the taller people prayed and sang their songs of praise.  It was somehow understood by the children – we just knew when we needed to be quiet and when it was okay to just play.  

Eventually I would get tired of running around during the long service of prayer and I would find my way to my mother and sit on the floor by her side.   Soon the rhythmical tones from the reader of the Guru Granth Sahib would make me sleepy and I would put my head on my mother’s lap and rest, until someone came around with parshad.  This sweet, is served to all, and signifies God’s grace and human equality.  There was something comforting about this place, a place I shared with the people I loved, a place where God was present, a place where children were welcomed.

After the time of congregational worship, people (from the congregation and from off the street, Sikhs and Hindus alike) would gather outside sitting in the dusty alley in rows to receive lungar.   This free meal was offered to all. 

I loved it when it was our turn to serve.   I would follow my grandmother outside the doors of the temple to find the earlier unpopulated alleyway now full of people sitting on the ground, on either side of the pathway.   I would watch my grandmother tie back her beautiful silk scarf, so not to drag on the ground and then she would begin the task of serving.  She along with others, including myself would serve to the masses a full vegetarian meal of roti , two kinds of  subji, and hot tea   I would walk behind her as she would bend down to serve each one individually; my beautifully dressed grandmother serving these dirty, poor, unattractive people sitting side by side with those with much means.  This was a place where status and caste did not matter.  There was no “us” or “them” there was no “other”.  I watched her as she attended each one, looking them in the eyes and smiling a wonderfully compassionate smile.   Each person mattered.  After we served we sat on the ground in the alleyway where we too ate our meal.  

Who is the other?  Is there an other?  Or is there only “we”?

All I know is God has called us to care, be generous and to serve all.

An excerpt from the award winning article A Global Community:  Is there an another? Or is there only we?

Author: Mona Scrivens

Published in March 2014