Viking Leif Erikson scans the Seattle waterfront in search of an approaching storm
Whether the weather is cold or it’s warm, whether there’s sunshine or threats of a storm, whether dark clouds or blue skies are the norm, weather cannot be our god.
Whether you’re living with hope or with fear, whether your vision is blurry or clear, whether your kids prompt a smile or a tear, you cannot do life on your own.
Whether your passion is work or it’s play, whether the future seems sunny or gray, whether the world is all wrong or okay, you cannot but choose how you’ll live.
*This poem is based on a poem my Norwegian cousin Bjarne Birkeland shared with me in Norway in 2001.
“Whether the weather is cold or whether the weather is hot we’ll weather the weather whatever the weather whether we like it or not.”
I’m thinking of my Norwegian family today. After all, today is May 17th (Syttende Mai) Norwegian Constitution Day.
The Wounded Lion Monument is one of the most popular attractions in Lucerne, Switzerland
This weekend Orthodox Christians around the world are celebrating the resurrection of Jesus. Because the Orthodox Church bases its observance of Easter on the ancient Julian calendar (in contrast to the Gregorian calendar followed by Western Christians), the most holy day of Christendom is celebrated on different days. Typically, the two Easters are a week apart. This year there is more than a month separating the two observances.
As a Protestant pastor with Greek ancestral roots, I have historically celebrated both the traditional Easter with my congregations and the Orthodox Easter with my family. When I was a young boy, my dad taught me the Greek Easter greeting. And to this day our family greets one another with “Christos anesti! Alithos anesti!”
This year finds me celebrating both Western and Orthodox Easter in Lucerne, Switzerland. And for both occasions there is the perfect spot in town at which to sit and contemplate the cornerstone of the Christian faith.
If you have ever visited Lucerne, you likely have stopped at the Wounded Lion Monument. This amazing rock sculpture, designed by famed Danish artist Bertel Thorvaldsen, commemorates the 760 members of the Swiss Guard who lost their lives protecting the King of France during the French Revolution in 1792. The monumental effort to carve the gigantic lion in the side of a sandstone cliff began in 1819 and was completed two years later.
The lion, who measures 20 feet high and is 33 feet long, lies with a broken spear in his back and his head bowed. He is obviously dying. Mark Twain called it “the most moving and mournful piece of stone in the world.”
I first saw the Lucerne Lion in-person six weeks ago while approaching Holy Week. As I stared at the beautiful (yet haunting) work of art, I couldn’t help but think of the Christ-like figure in the first of C. S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia.
In “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,” the first of Lewis’ chronicles, Aslan the lion willingly lays down his life to lift the curse that has held the Kingdom of Narnia captive. The lion’s lifeless body lies cold and still on a giant stone table.
Using his palette of language, C. S. Lewis paints an unforgettable picture that conjures up the events of Good Friday. This gifted wordsmith conveys the suffering that provides the backdrop for the glorious message of the resurrection.
In his book as the symbolic story unfolds, Lewis pictures Easter Sunday as well. The stone table is discovered by the children without any sign of Aslan. They soon encounter the lion fully alive. Aslan has returned from the dead. The children also realize that Narnia has returned to its original glory.
The land that had been labeled “as always winter but never Christmas” was once again blooming in springtime glory. The visible and invisible evidence of Immanuel (God-with-us) provided Narnia with proof of a redeemed kingdom.
Although I have long believed that the truth of Easter is an ongoing reality and not simply a single day on the liturgical calendar, this year it is all the more in focus. With the two Easter observances of the Christian Church being more than a month apart, there is cause to contemplate the fact the resurrection can be celebrated continuously.
If you’re like me, hardly a week goes by without learning of someone you know (or know of) who has passed away. Death dominates the landscape of our lives. The shadow of sorrow creeps across our hopes and dreams. Grief is an ever-present reality. Parents die. Spouses receive a terminal diagnosis. Siblings leave us prematurely. Even our children are not exempt.
And given the grim reality of the Grim Reaper’s unsolicited visits to our families, knowing that death has been defeated once and for all is something I can’t celebrate enough. Having two Easters is just fine. In fact, I would welcome even a few more. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!
This week I reach a milestone. My birthday cake is entitled to seventy-two candles. But given our corporate concern for global warming, my wife will likely only light one solitary wax sentry. And that’s okay. Too many miniature flames make for too much light that in turn exposes too little hair and too many wrinkles.
Given a temporary work assignment in Switzerland, this is the first birthday in those seventy-two years in which I will celebrate outside of the United States. And truth be told, this opportunity to serve an English-speaking church in Luzern for three months is the best birthday present I could have asked for. Curiously, thirty-six years ago my wife and I found ourselves in a similar situation. I was asked to take a temporary assignment in Nome, Alaska. Taking a leave of absence from my congregation in California, I worked for a missionary radio station for a couple months.
Like my current assignment as interim pastor of the International Church of Luzern, working for KICY radio was an unforgettable opportunity to meet new people and explore new parts of God’s green earth for the very first time. And to think that our Alaskan adventure was almost exactly half my life ago! Where has the time gone? That summer assignment in Nome seems but a few short years ago. Mindboggling to be sure!
The Hebrew psalmist declares “Man is like a breath. His days are like a passing shadow.” (Psalm 144:4) St. James put it this way, “What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” (James 4:14)
Like a summer day in the Pacific Northwest, 72 seems like the perfect number. Not too hot. Not too cold. It’s just about perfect. But for me it also comes with the candid realization that my days are numbered. If I live as long as my dad did, I only have ten years left. If I live to celebrate the same number of birthdays my mom had, I have just twenty years left.
Speaking of my precious little mom, when it came to birthdays and acknowledging how old she was, she had a signature saying for which she was known. “Age is just a number. And mine is unlisted!” Or like the poster I hung on the wall in my college dorm room “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.” Wow! Was that really fifty-four years ago? As a freshman I wanted to make every day count. And all these years later, I still do.
Birthdays are an annual occasion to give yourself permission to take stock of the speed at which time flies. In other words, they are an opportunity for “give and take.” Give heed to choices that today offers and take time to evaluate which ones you will choose. Give up trying to undo the past and take control of your future. Give God thanks for achievements you’ve accomplished thus far on life’s journey and take a break to bask in His many blessings.
I’m blown away by the goodness of a Creator who allowed me over the past seventy-two years to meet such incredible people, travel to such fascinating places, do such a variety of jobs in addition to sharing my wonderful life with my beautiful wife for forty-two years and raising three amazing daughters. But I know I am not alone. As you look back on your life to date, you no doubt have blessings too numerous to number as well.
In the only psalm that Moses ever wrote, the Prince of Egypt poignantly prays “Lord, teach us to number our days that we might gain a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12) It doesn’t take a math major to count our blessings and number our days. It just takes someone who recognizes the bottom line of maximizing one’s life.
My Rhymes and Reasons 