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This past week I am remembering two fathers whose children were my friends and compatriots.

Al Ross was a trucker and a practical servant of God.  Lloyd Matheson was a white collar worker whose advice was welcomed and heeded.

Both were men who lived and served together in the same church.  Their children have since gone on to serve in various church capacities as well.

And now those children are the recipients of the torch.  To carry a light to this world.  To run a race to serve others.  To mentor a coming generation.  To be children of God through Jesus.

A privilege and a great responsibility!

I remember one summer going on a road trip with my parents (this is confession time!).  There were six of us kids in a 1960’s Valiant station wagon.  We liked each other enough to get into the face of our siblings – more often than mom and dad liked!  So a quiet time was designated in the afternoon – to be sure we all got enough sleep.  Throughout the rest of the day, we all rotated times to sit with mom and dad in the front seat.

That meant your times with the parents were restricted.  Unless . . .

I merely started sleeping during the day – I’m sure I made sure everyone knew I was sleeping.  Then when afternoon sleep time came, I was invited into the front seat while everyone else slept.

Know the rules.  Understand the reason for the rules.  Then make up a new arrangement.  One that fulfils your wishes and the wishes of the rule makers.

Creative?  Perhaps.  Clever?  Perhaps.  Tricky?  Perhaps.  Unruly?  Never!

I’m fairly sure Donald Trump’s childhood would reveal a similar story – an incident where he learned to live within the rules while bending the rules to his desires.

I’ve watched Trump play this out.  Know the rules, understand the sentiments of the rule makers, explore the extremes with your advisors, choose your own path.

Don’t get too self-righteous.  I have a funny feeling your childhood might reveal something of the same thing!

I was laughing at myself yesterday.

A few days ago, with a young friend, I created two snow forts on our vacant lot.  The shapes were arbitrary – the snow had been hard enough that you could create blocks of snow.  Just by standing on an edge, the block would crackly and wrinkle.  We had a great time.

On Sunday someone had viewed my picture on Instagram.  They commented that I had probably snuck out later in the day. 

Not to just view the great creation.  Not to enjoy the night air.

But to chop off the pieces that were a little crooked, or a little out of place or even just not quite right.

I have this feeling they know me fairly well.

While people attend church regularly, not all are involved.

We used to gauge involvement by how active people were in church programs.  Some membership requirements included attended regularly at Sunday services, giving regularly to finance the parish, and adhering to a statement of faith – with commitment to Jesus Christ as the distinguishing focus of one who attends a Christian Church.

The matter of Jesus has not changed.  Being a Christ follower is indicative of being a Christian – or at least it should be.  Unfortunately a superficial brand has become more important than the warp and woof of the weave.

Stepping past the core of belief – which is set forth in documents and regulations – we are often short on finding the central part of our gathering together as a parish.  What makes me rush to fill the whole of life with others who are Jesus followers?

Parish is from the Greek – para (beside) and oikos (house/home/dwelling).  Where a central geographic point is determined as the regional center, the parish becomes all those surrounding that point.  In a new day and age, we may even determine a central point as an internet site or other intangible border.

What is the central part of our gathering together as a parish? 

While the label or brand is often out front in our considerations, there is a small thing called love, respect and honour that needs to be a part as well.  All of these attributes cry for the participants of a parish to reach out to each other, to rejoice and sigh in grief with each other, to see another’s gifting and, in the acknowledgement, to give right of place to their abilities.  

This is living life together.  Parish the thought!