Of Bees and Life

 January 11, 2021

My bees have been sequestered in their hives since Thanksgiving. When the temperature dips below around 50 degrees, they stay inside. As the temperature drops, they cluster, crowding closer and closer to each other, surrounding the queen and keeping her warm by vibrating the wing muscles in their backs. Tighter and tighter they crowd, keeping her warm in a cluster the size of a soccer ball, moving vertically only about a centimeter per day. Bees don’t actually hibernate, and as the solstice passes, along about the end of January, the queen begins laying eggs again, building the population for spring with its sudden profusion of flowers and nectar.

My three colonies reside in what’s called a Langstroth hive, named after the Rev. Lorenzo Lorraine Langstroth, who developed the moveable frame beehive in the mid 1800s. Prior to his invention, bees were kept in logs or straw skeps, the honey removed by destroying the colony. His brainchild allowed honey to be harvested without destroying the nest, insuring a continual and reliable source of honey. The Langstroth hive became the industry standard, as they could be readily transported to supply orchards and farms with pollination.

They do have their drawbacks, however. They are relatively thin-walled, which in colder climates make survival of the colony more precarious. They require more intensive and invasive management, and in recent years, the arrival of the virus-laden Varroa mite has devastated apiaries all over the world. Pest management is almost a full-time job.

Into this apiary climate has come in recent years a re-evaluation of the entire process of modern beekeeping. Some old practices are getting a second look, with the hives of Emile Warre or George de Layens garnering attention for their ease of operation and ability to overwinter.

My point in this little apiary history lesson is that we are always learning, and the practices that everyone knows are just the way things are, are not necessarily the best. Sometimes we need to step back and ask ourselves if our present course of action and belief the best we can do. I had a friend gently take me to task recently about some things I had said to another friend. I had convinced myself I was simply playing devil’s advocate, trying to promote a broader view, but realized instead that I was actually pushing my opinions and perspectives on someone who didn’t really need to hear it at the time. So I repented, confessed, and asked forgiveness, which was freely given. Sometimes we need to be challenged to rethink our habits and actions. We seldom do so all on our own, so I am thankful tonight for someone willing to help me see the error of my ways, and that a different approach may prove healthier and more productive. I trust it will both in my relationships and in keeping my bees.

Discipline

 January 10, 2021

Sunday school this morning began a series on hope and discipline. The two are connected. Hope without discipline is little more than wishful thinking. Whether it is losing weight, exercising more, or reading our Bibles daily, it is all mere pipe dreams unless we actually commit to a regular plan and schedule for the changes we want to see. So we were challenged to think of one discipline in our lives we need to work on; mine was prayer. I’ve often felt as if my prayers were little more than a laundry list of things I want God to do; while I’ve had times when I felt my spirit soaring in prayer, those times have been far fewer than I would like to admit. 

This afternoon, I began. It is easy for me to read the Bible and rush off to whatever needs to be done for the day, but this afternoon, I just sat for an hour or so, slowly and calmly going through my prayer list—the people and situations that are regularly on my mind. The difference today was the “slowly and calmly.” As I recalled each name, I didn’t always have a specific request, and even when I did, it was usually pretty simple: healing, guidance, salvation, relationships, etc. I don’t often know much detail about the people and circumstances for which I am praying, so I simply held their names before the Lord before going on to the next one. By the time I was finished, I noticed something I hadn’t noticed before: I felt a connection with God that wasn’t there when I started. I hadn’t been telling God what to do about the situations or for these people; it was as if God and I were sitting side by side thinking about and blessing those who came to mind. We were partners in grace, and in giving it through prayer, I received it myself.

For what it’s worth, my prayer list includes people I’ve never met and whose values are far different than mine; public figures whom I presented to God without any agenda. It is a good thing to release them into the care of the almighty, holy, just, and loving God, blessing them in the name of Christ. Not only does such prayer release them; it also sets me free. 

One prayer does not a discipline make. Tomorrow is another day. Discipline often requires accountability beyond our own commitments. I have three young men who will hold my feet to the fire, and in so doing, will help me be a better Christian. Nate, Matt, and Bob, I’m counting on you! Don’t let me off easy. I’ll do the same for you, and at the end of this study, all four of us will with thanksgiving reflect more clearly the image of Jesus to our families, our church, and the world.

Cleansing Blood

 January 10, 2021

“The blood of Jesus Christ...cleanses us from all sin.” —1John 1:7

It’s been a long day. A number of us from our church attended safety training today. In the past fifteen years, deadly force incidents in houses of worship have increased by over 6000 percent. This was one of the statistics that confronted us, and is the reason for the training. Not even a generation ago it was unthinkable that such incidents would happen, but it is almost commonplace today. The likelihood that it would occur at any given church is minute, but not negligible, so training in de-escalation and even forceful response is sadly necessary.

We watched security footage, listened to recordings, and heard stories of shootings, stabbings, assaults, learned of the physiological reaction of the human body to the adrenaline pump that makes the heart go from 60-80 bpm to 140 to 160 bpm in such situations, and practiced strategies and techniques for containing and minimizing damage.

This was one day, involved no actual weapons or real danger to anyone, but when I got home this afternoon, I felt drained. No—I felt defiled. Even though we soaked the sessions in prayer and were working from the perspective of keeping people safe, our constant focus on evil made it feel like it was seeping into my soul. I’m not depressed, but I am feeling subdued this evening, and wondered how anyone involved in law enforcement could survive for long without being affected by what they see day after day. In addition to what they see, they must deal with a society that disrespects and defunds them. It’s no wonder that more officers die by their own hand than by deadly incidents on the streets. And it’s no wonder that when Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane prior to his crucifixion, he said, “Now my soul is troubled.” That was surely an understatement! The sinless Son of God was taking upon himself the sin of the whole world in all its demonic ugliness. It was a burden that drove him literally prostrate to the ground.

So I prayed. And prayed. And prayed, till this word from St. John surfaced in my mind. “The blood of Jesus Christ cleanses us from all sin.” Not only my sin, but the sin of others that defiles those who must deal with it. The blood of Jesus Christ, and only the blood of Jesus Christ is adequate to cleanse from such defilement. I prayed again, claiming the blood, and calling out to the Lord for the cleansing my soul needed, and like David, I found that when my soul cried out, he was there to lift me out of the miry pit and set my feet on a solid Rock! 

Tonight, I pray as I’ve never prayed before (because I’ve never before understood) for those who daily stand in the gap. They need the prayers of those who will plead the cleansing blood of Christ on their behalf. 

Bass Notes

 January 8, 2021

“Hi pastor Jim! I wanted to double check with you and see if you were still interested in teaching SOTA (School of the Arts) this semester, and then also see if you still wanted to teach bass or if you were interested in teaching another class!” When Katie texted me this message earlier this week, I responded by telling her I would be happy to teach bass again.

You must understand that when agreeing to teach, you only have to be one step ahead of the student. When it comes to bass, I am barely adequate, and with upright bass, I am a rank beginner. But I am one step ahead of someone who has never touched the instrument.

I continued my response to Katie. “As for other classes, if anyone were interested in upright bass, I would be willing to teach that.” I had barely finished hitting send when the response came: “Oh that’s awesome! If I wasn’t teaching, I would LOVE to take upright! I always thought it was so cool!”

“It could be arranged,” I answered. She is excited, and I am happy to share what little knowledge I have. As I’ve said many times before, I am living proof that one doesn’t have to be a good musician to appreciate good music. Or even to play it. I am thankful for the opportunity to encourage Katie. She can build on her foundation of keyboard and vocals to become an even more versatile member of the worship team. St. Paul told Timothy to stir up the gift that was given him. Katie is doing just that, and I get to be the stirrer, blessing both of us, and maybe a whole bunch of people, along the way.

Unreported News

 January 7, 2021

We’ve longed for the media to give us something other than its endless stream of COVID bad news, and yesterday, we finally got our wish, although perhaps not quite the way we had hoped. For those obsessed with all things political, here’s some news you might have missed.

A young man and woman are quietly and joyfully planning their wedding. Hopes and dreams are not the sole provenance of the political crowd. This couple is trying to juggle what they can afford with what governmental limitations may be imposed six months from now upon their joyful celebration, but today, they are happy.

A husband and wife are reunited after an estrangement that lasted for over a year. They both worked on it, and are now experiencing a depth of love they hadn’t dreamed of before. Their children are doubly blessed having them together without the former tension that plagued their home.

The winter solstice has passed; days are slowly getting longer—a faint harbinger of warmer days, snowbells pushing up to the light, and the return of the geese. Our fire still warms our bodies, while our love warms our hearts. We read tonight in peace and gratitude.

The coffee on the table by my side is hot and strong; somewhere, a coffee grower eats his supper because of that cup. He worked, sold his product to a supplier who also eats tonight, as does the roaster, the person who designed and produced the bag in which it was put. A trucker, warehouse worker, stock boy, and checkout clerk are also part of the blessing of that cup.

A birthday is being celebrated today. For some, it is their very first; they took their first breath. A life full of possibility, challenge, joy, and danger awaits them. Someone else blew out seventy, eighty, or even ninety candles, perhaps with help, but remembering birthdays past, joys and sorrows, the mystery of life.

Someone whose life hung by a thread, someone at the end of their rope, seeing nothing for which to hope, found that hope as another shared the Gospel with him. The door to eternal life swung wide open, and she walked—no—danced through, the burden and guilt of sin lifted from sagging shoulders that now stand straight and erect.

Today brought much more than the media would report. There’s no profit in telling the rest of the story, but it’s there. I am thankful tonight for the stories that never make the headlines, but make the front page of someone’s life tonight.

An Ordinary Day

 January 6, 2021

It’s often a challenge to come up with something to write about. Big events swirl around us; our country will undoubtedly swerve hard to the left, now that the presidency and both houses of Congress are in Democrat hands. Some are rejoicing; many are worried about the accelerated shrinking of our liberties we see as government engulfs more and more of our lives. I was apparently unusually quiet at dinner tonight; Linda asked me if I were worried about the Georgia election. I’m not surprised, and I’m not particularly worried. My concern is the kind of world my grandkids will inherit, but I have to decide if I really believe God is in control. If I don’t believe this, I might as well stop writing.

Compared to the seismic changes happening all around us, the small concerns of my little world seem almost petty, except for one thing: Life is made up of small things. Without the microscopic, the macro world wouldn’t exist. So I engage each day the best I know how, with gratitude, integrity, and diligence. 

Today, I went to the dentist to get a tooth crowned. I was surprised at how quick and simple the procedure was, and am thankful to have insurance and the money to pay the bill. I bought a portable compressor to power my pneumatic stapler for assembling bee equipment before coming home to tape and paint the laundry room. That being accomplished, I trimmed out one window. Tonight is our village board meeting, and tomorrow, I hope to get started on the other windows and start installing the flooring so I can move the washer and dryer in. Not one of these activities is world-shaking. Nobody’s world would have come crashing down if I hadn’t done one or more of them. But if I had instead parked myself on the couch to watch TV all afternoon, something evil would have happened.

If this last statement sounds a bit melodramatic, consider that life is made of choices. A small deviation today may not look like much, but in hunting or target shooting, a tiny shift at the end of the muzzle will send the bullet wide of the mark. If I want to be like Christ; if I want to come to the end of my earthly journey with integrity, the small things I do today are important. I may not score a bullseye, but I at least want to leave my marks on the paper. Too many people today are shooting first, then painting the target around wherever the bullet hits. It looks good, but is as fake as today’s news.

It has been a busy, unstressful, productive day. Whatever happens elsewhere, I can stand today before my God and say I have not squandered the strength he has given me, and humbly present this ordinary day back to him with gratitude for the grace I have been given in Christ.

Thoughts

 January 5, 2021

For many of us, our greatest problem is that we have our eyes glued to the screen instead of the Scriptures. We obsess over things we cannot change, and are lethargic about the things we can change. I cannot change the outcome of an election, but I can control my attitude about it. I cannot by myself control the direction our country is heading, but I can control the direction I am heading. I cannot control other people’s decisions, but I don’t have to let them control mine. However, all this takes discipline and self-control. 2 Corinthians 10:5 instructs us to “[cast] down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God,” and to “[bring] every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ.” My thoughts are often like runaway calves; as soon as I corral one, another breaks loose, and I have to chase it down and drag it in. 

It’s tempting to get discouraged. You would think once I’ve got that wayward thought in Christ’s corral, it would stay there, but they keep breaking out. Here’s what I’ve learned: The fact that we’re still chasing them down is evidence of God’s work in our hearts. The longer I’m a Christian, the more I realize though the war was won by Christ on the cross, the battle in my heart is never over. 

At times, it feels overwhelming. Asa faced an army of over a million men and 300 chariots with half that many footsoldiers, not the best of odds. He “cried out to the LORD his God, and said, “LORD, it is nothing for you to help, whether with any or with those who have no power; help us, O LORD our God, for we rest on you, and in your name we go against this multitude. O LORD, you are our God” (2 Chronicles 14:11). He saw the reality he faced, but he didn’t let it define him. Though the text doesn’t tell us this, I know from my own personal experience that the only way he could face those odds was by spending more time in God’s presence than in his enemy’s presence. Too often, we do just the reverse.

Jehoshaphat faced a similar situation. He too, turned to the Lord, saying, “O our God...we have no power against this great multitude that is coming against us; nor do we know what to do, but our eyes are upon you” (2 Chronicles 20:12). When we don’t know what to do, keeping our attention focused on God is not a bad strategy. The problem is, we suffer from spiritual attention deficit disorder. 

When it’s hardest to do—that’s when I need to double down in prayer. When I don’t feel like meditating upon Scripture is when it is most important for me to do so. When it’s easier to stay home than to visit someone in need is just when it is imperative for me to kick myself in gear and go. The battle is in our minds, which is why we are given the helmet of salvation. My thoughts need saving, and for that, I need the grace of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit. That power is not always an energy I feel; often it is a determination I command.

The past year brought much we didn’t expect and much to dampen the spirit. But God brings much more: “Where sin abounded, grace abounded more” (Romans 5:20). THAT’s where I will corral my thoughts this year, every time they escape.