Tuesday, September 20, 2011

In the Garden


The beauty of the garden caught me off guard. After all this was a small town in the Midwest North Country where the growing season is short and the opportunities for prosperity limited. I had lunched with my friend Betsy in a small cafĂ© right on the main street and then she gave me a tour of the town, all of which could be accomplished in less than five minutes. That was when “the garden” caught my eye. It was so beautiful and in many ways a bit out of place as it stood in a residential area and took up one lot….a lot where a home should be.

In the center of the garden was a lovely stone pavilion, circular in shape and held up by four stone pillars. Pathways entered from three sides and around the park were six benches. These were not your average park benches, but ones made by a true craftsman, unique in design and sturdy in form.

And then there were the flowers and shrubs, all planted with an eye for peace and serenity and there were occasional large boulders also expertly placed for design and beauty. Truly it looked a little bit like heaven on earth.

Betsy parked the car and we began to walk around. On each bench was a plaque dedicated to a different young person whose name, date of birth and death were solemnly engraved. When I entered the pavilion the whole story came into focus as there on the wall was the story of the event that happened on that very spot.

Four years earlier a house stood right where I was standing. It was graduation night and seven kids gathered there to celebrate with pizza and fun. One of the girls had broken up with her boyfriend just days before and on this night, filled with jealous anger, he arrived at the party with an assault rifle. Moments later six young people lay dead, the seventh critically injured. Days later he himself would be hunted down and shot dead.

In the twinkling of an eye, daily life in this small town was changed forever. Everyone knew all of the victims, in fact most everyone was related to at least one of them. In that small town probably the biggest crime ever committed was kids throwing eggs at passing cars. But on this night hell and all its evil made a visit and seven young promising lives were gone forever. What was left was shock, disbelief, sorrow and despair.

So what does one do with such devastation? Build a garden. The house was torn down and with it the constant reminder of the horror that took place that night. And in its place, a Garden. New birth. Beauty. Peace. Comfort. Hope.

I was reminded once again of the deep longing within us to return to the Garden…to that safe place where sin is not allowed to enter, that place where there are no tears or sorrow. That place where God is. But this earth is not heaven, for the present it belongs to Satan and will until Christ comes back. That Garden is a reminder of both…the battle on earth with pure evil and the hope of heaven and pure joy. In the meantime God occasionally gives us small glimpses …a garden….a reminder…this is not our home.



And the Lord sent him out from the Garden of Eden…
Genesis 3:23

Thursday, September 1, 2011

The World of Idiots


When I was a child I was never allowed to call anyone an idiot. Webster says the word means a “mentally deficient person who is permanently incapable of rational conduct or a very stupid person.” It seems to me there are a growing number of such people. In fact a couple of years ago I was involved in an incident that convinced me the world is full of them.

I was on an entrance ramp coming onto an eight lane highway. As I neared the top, the traffic came to a complete stop. I waited and nothing happened. Soon I heard a police car roaring down the shoulder of the highway, turned onto the left lane and came to a stop behind a cranberry colored Ford Explorer. And there I waited for many minutes as the car refused to move and the police lights kept flashing.

“Idiot”, I said under my breath. This guy would not budge even though those lights kept going. I waited a bit longer growing more and more frustrated with this guy in the Explorer reviewing in my mind the sin of man and how this guy was the worst of the worst. He had no compassion. Perhaps there were people lying wounded and dying in the road just ahead desperately needing an officer and yet Mr. Explorer refused to move his car.

I was ready to jump out and drag him out of his car myself, so enraged at the gall, the inconsiderateness, the unwillingness to consider there was a CRISIS up ahead, when all of a sudden I heard the policeman take serious steps to get him to move.

A loudspeaker bellowed. “Please move to the right!” “There…that should get him!” I thought, but still he didn’t budge. Again the loudspeaker came on, with greater firmness and urgency. “Please move to the right! Please move your car to the right!!” Everyone within hearing distance would have moved to the right but our IDIOT would not!

“Please move your Four Runner to the right!” The voice came again. I thought the policeman must not know his cars very well because THAT car was an Explorer.

Again, and this time the color of the car was added to the command. “PLEASE MOVE YOUR TAN FOUR RUNNER TO THE RIGHT!!!!” Tan Forerunner? The idiot was driving a cranberry Explorer. How could the police make such a horrible mistake. And then I glanced in the rear view mirror only to see an ambulance right behind me and my tan Four Runner directing ME to MOVE my car to the right!!!

As it turns out, there was only ONE idiot on the scene and that was me. The police was stopped behind the guy in the Explorer because that car and several others had been involved in an accident. I was the person incapable of rational behavior .

I moved my car to the right.

And I looked in the mirror. And there I saw a profound truth.

Do not judge others who might have a splinter in their eye until you have taken the huge jumbo log out of your own eye. Those words are Jesus’ idea because He created us and knows full well that at any given moment we are all capable of being idiots… totally incapable of rational thought