Bear

Fourteen years, in dog years, makes one quite old. We all know that age has both its challenges and privileges. For Bear, Bethany and Chad’s first dog, the challenges came to an end early this morning. Age, coupled with some pretty serious health issues, finally took its toll. Knowing he is no longer having to manage those issues is a relief, but relief born of sadness.

Privileges, however, are a different matter. Bear was rescued from what must have been a hell-on-earth situation when he was around a year old. A mixed breed of what appeared to be Huskie and Corgi, his furry face; long, bushy tail; and short legs made for an impressive presence. Bear was an appropriate name.

Bear tended not to be fond of men – but thankfully he liked me. Actually I’d say he loved me! I was privileged to be on a pretty short list of men he would tolerate. My guess is some worthless male figure from his first year of life had treated him poorly. It is beyond my ability to understand when it comes to humans mistreating creatures made by God and I’m glad I’ve never met that guy.

Bear always had clear definitions about personal space. That definition applied to humans and to other dogs – including his two “sisters” Willow and Matilda Jane. It also applied to his dog-cousins, Laila and Miller. I think his fellow dog-creatures understood that as well, if not better, than his human family. The older he got, the more definite – and sometimes larger – that personal space became. Oddly, I see the same thing happening in my own life as I grow older, so I can hardly complain about that.

One thing is certain, Bear knew how much he was loved right up to the very end. No one tired of trying to make his last days more comfortable. All of us – Vicki, Sarah, Bethany, Chad, and me – were more than happy to sit by him and scratch his neck and head. If Bear could talk, that’s how he might define heaven. Even last night, feeling as poorly as he must have felt, when I stopped scratching, he used his nose to nuzzle me back into scratching mode!

Two important ideas are floating in my consciousness as I think about the impact Bear’s life had on me. First, is the value of God’s creatures to add character and substance to our existence.  Despite what must have been a pretty rough year to begin his life, Bear quickly figured out he had been rescued and with rescue, comes responsibility. He loved Bethany – and the rest of us – in ways that can change a long, tiring day into a restful evening. He saw himself as protector of his new family and a bear – no one was going to come through the door who shouldn’t. He apparently understood the adage “fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.” If you were a male, you had to prove yourself to Bear. He stayed on alert when it came to outside noises and the drive way – never forgetting with rescue comes responsibility. 

The second idea is one of pride on my part. I couldn’t be more proud of the fact that among the qualities of both of my daughters is their willingness to care for God’s creatures. We went through much the same thing with Sarah and Laila just over two years ago. While this is not the kind of moment in life where experience is overly helpful, what I saw with Laila and Sarah, and what I have just seen with Bear and Bethany makes me proud.  I get it that dogs aren’t humans, but I also get that they are a part God’s creation, which according to Paul in Romans 8:18-25, “waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed.” I think how we care about God’s innocent creatures says much about our own character. 

Bear became an old-man-dog about as gracefully as could happen. In dog years, he passed me a long time ago when it comes to age. Hopefully I will get to be a very old man with the same kind of grace and dignity Bear did.

So, thanks Bear for making a difference in our lives. You were a model of what it means to be a part of God’s creation.We long for the day when God's creation is restored to its God-intended purpose when "creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God." (Romans 8:21)

Silver Coins

“They were glad when they heard this, and promised to give him money.” (Mark 14:11) “Immediately while He was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, . . . had given them a signal, saying, ‘Whomever I kiss, He is the one; seize Him and lead Him away under guard.’” (Mark 14:43,44)

The eternity of a wasted life – described in less than 30 words. Or perhaps 30 pieces of silver. 

We have probably all played around with the “How much would it take for you to do . . . something outrageous?” game. You know – “If I gave you one hundred dollars, would you . . .?” When you reply “No,” I up the ante.  “Five hundred?”  “A thousand?” A game of light-hearted banter can morph into the deadly world of a wasted life if we aren’t careful.

We really know very little about how Judas got to be the infamous character we know him to be. Matthew is the one who tells us it was “thirty pieces of silver.” (Matthew 26:14-16) All four gospel writers tell us about the role he played in betraying Jesus – primarily providing information about an opportunity to arrest Jesus away from the crowds. John seems unable to mention the name Judas without a bit of commentary.

There is all kind of speculation about the motives of Judas. But that is only speculation – the gospels don’t provide the kind of information that allows one to know whether his motives were good or evil. The fact that he returns the money and ends his life would suggest that it didn’t work out like he thought it would.

The eternity of a wasted life – bought, sold, and wasted over 30 pieces of silver. From afar, that is an easy target to point fingers at; up close in the mirror of my own soul, it is enough to make one weep.

It is easy for me to say, “I’m not Judas.”  Or a hundred or more other examples of people whose lives betray the nature of faith in ways that are reprehensible. But the problem with that approach is that you  can’t find a “at least I’m not as bad as” example of spiritual growth in Scripture. The real question for me -  and you – during Holy Week is not “am I Judas?” but “am I the person God has called me to be?”

I doubt that the motives of Judas were just money.  Thirsty pieces of silver is not the kind of money that puts one on easy street. Yet every day of my life I am confronted with the potential issue of what value I place on following Jesus. Is my job and a promotion worth more than being a follower of Jesus?  Is my reputation among my peers worth more than following Jesus? Is my commitment to the kingdom of God more important than the fancy vacation I have planned for the summer?

I can easily point fingers at Judas.  Thirty pieces of silver. Cheap. Really not that big of a deal.

But the person I look at in the mirror every  morning  of Holy Week, I’m wondering what price he is willing to accept as payment for betrayal?

It is frightening to think about.