Pastor's Message

May 2004

I just love springtime. The crocuses are the first joyful proclamation of the new season, followed by the glorious yellow of the daffodils and forsythia, the breathtaking fragrance of the hyacinths and then the brilliant colors of the tulips and azaleas. My in-laws in Florida always try to tell me that they have springtime too, but I tell them they don’t really know what spring is. They just can’t raise crocuses, daffodils, hyacinths and tulips; although I have to concede they have very nice azaleas. I tell them that you just can’t really have spring unless you have a real winter!

I am coming to see that there is a theological truth in my argument that I am beginning to understand as an analogy of our faith. Our appreciation of spring is reduced if we do not experience winter, just as our celebration of Christ’s resurrection is really not complete if we do not remember his suffering and death. Or our experience of God’s power is only partial until we realize our own weakness and inability. Or our experience of God’s healing cannot come unless we go through illness and brokenness. Or our hope for eternal life has greater meaning when we begin to come to grips with our own mortality and the finite nature of our life on this earth.

And so I am beginning to have a change of attitude toward fall. I used to say that I didn’t like fall, in spite of the beautiful colors of fall foliage and those wonderful, crisp fall days, because I knew what was coming next – the cold, gray days of winter. But it is winter that gives greater glory to spring. It is in winter that the promise of spring becomes precious, just as it is in times of trial that the promise of God becomes more meaningful.

A story that comes out of the mountains of Western North Carolina gives us added perspective. There, among the Cherokee, is a tradition that when a boy approaches the age of 11, he is sent deep into the Pisgah Forest, armed only with his bow and arrow. This ritual is intended to prove his bravery, yet the entire night he is terrified. Every hoot of an owl sounds like a menacing monster. Every cracking twig sounds like a bear or bobcat. Every rush of wind sounds like whispers of the demonic. But when morning finally comes, the young brave sees another Cherokee hiding behind a tree. It is his father, who has been lovingly watching all night long, making certain that his child did not have to face the darkness alone. And so our heavenly father is there with us when we go through the nighttime, the winters, of our life – perhaps as unseen as the Cherokee father behind a tree, but every bit as present.

There is a purpose for winter that goes even beyond the beauty of the moon shining down on a fresh snowfall, a purpose that points to the future, to the promise of spring. And there is purpose to our gray days, days when we suffer illness, feel alone, struggle with discouragement and despair. That purpose may be to heighten our awareness of God’s perpetual presence and to God’s wonderful promise of resurrection. Just as the splendor of spring follows the darkness of winter, so the brilliance of heaven will help us spring forth from our days of trial. Therefore, let’s celebrate spring in the beautiful months of April and May, knowing that this is only a small foretaste of the celebration we will enjoy when we come into the eternal glory that God has promised for us, if we only trust in Him