Have you ever woken up in a state of panic? Maybe it was because you were particularly tired. Maybe you were sick. Maybe you were travelling and not in your own bed. It has happened to me a few times and nothing is more unsettling then being confused about where you are. I remember one time being in a cottage near Huntsville and waking up in the middle of the night to complete darkness. It was so dark I felt claustrophobic. It made me want to go home and get my trusty Snoopy nightlight!

Imagine what it must be like to be awake in a city you have lived in all your life and still get confused about exactly where you are. Oh, you might know the generalities of where you are, but at the same time, there is a veil of confusion that makes even the familiar seem unfamiliar. It feels kind of like you’re in a dream, but you know you are awake and your confusion is real.

I can’t think of many things more unsettling than that. Yesterday a friend of mine had that happen to him. Perhaps it was the heat and humidity. Maybe he was dehydrated. Maybe it was a combination of factors, I really can’t say. All I know is that his confusion was real and the fear I saw in his eyes when he showed up at the church yesterday was palpable. Understandably he was in quite a state.

He recounted to me the story of how a friend was supposed to pick him up downtown but he couldn’t remember where he had been dropped off. Everything seemed to close in on him. It was then that he said something that I will never forget. He said, “I didn’t know where I was, I was so confused, but I knew if I could just get here (meaning the church) then I’d be safe.”

As soon as he said it, I immediately saw his journey as a terrifying parable with a profound truth. Life gets more and more confusing. Principles that should be foundational are now vaguely familiar. The moral architecture of our world is shifting. The challenges we face as God’s people can sometimes be overwhelming. Navigating life today can get terribly bewildering. But if we can just remember that there is a safe place. If we can just remember that there is a place where truth calms our confusion and the love of Christ brings comfort, we can make it through those times of panic.

Ultimately, I was honoured that my friend chose Keele Street to be that place of safety. I can’t help but think that, more than ever, we need the hope, the love, the fellowship and support of the local church to be that grounding place of safety and reality in a world that often seems like a disorienting bad dream. More than anything else, we need to trust in the Prince of Peace. After all He is the One who promised – “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33, NIV).

The Handyman’s Shop is gone. I just walked by it the other day, but now it is gone. And by gone I mean, no longer in existence. I don’t mean they moved or I forgot what street they were on. The building itself is gone. It has been razed. (Have you ever wondered why raze sounds the same as raise but means the opposite?) I find this mildly disturbing. I mean I know stores open and close all the time, but buildings don’t come and go quite as often and yet it has become a trend in my neighbourhood lately. In other words, my concern has been raised by all this razing. I am down in the dumps because of all of the dumps that have been downed.

In fact, just in my neighbourhood, I can think of at least three places that have become open spaces. One of them is now on its way to becoming a condo, but another has remained a barren gap in the flow of a commercial block that reminds me of an eight-year-olds’ simile. Missing teeth are cute, in an eight-year-old that is, but missing buildings aren’t. They are just a reminder that something used to be there, until someone comes and fills them in.

Now, I don’t want you to worry about me. I am not going to fall apart because of what has been taken apart. I am sure I can handle all the dismantled. After all, life goes on. But, last year when we were back in PEI, I drove by the location that housed the place in which we lived and the church building in which I served and there was nothing to indicate that either one of them was ever there. The highway has been improved and so the house and the church building no longer exist. What once was an essential part of the community has now made way to an easier exodus out of the community. Apparently all it took was a day to wipe out the one bit of PEI that was most familiar to me.

I couldn’t help but reflect on whether we ever really lived on PEI. I know we did. I know we spent six years there, but at the same time, now with all physical evidence gone, it seemed more of a dream than a reality. That led me to ponder what lasting effect our presence in PEI has had. Since there is no longer any physical evidence, is there any lasting spiritual evidence that we ever lived in PEI? It is a good question, albeit a bit unsettling.

Ultimately I am reminded that our investment in people is by far the most lasting of investments we can make. It is possible to have all physical record of your life removed, razed, and rubbed out, but what you have invested in friends and family and community will remain. One day your own abode will be lowered into a grave and all your investments in the gym will rot and become fast food for worms. But all your investments in people will live on—particularly the Investments of the eternal variety.

One last point—ripping down is part of what is necessary to build up. When you have an established community, the only option you have to build something new is to tear something old down. With that in mind, and as we still see the New Year in our rear view mirrors, what, in your life, has to be razed to raise your spiritual infrastructure? What has to be ripped down so that you can be built up? Often less is definitely more.

This past summer we had a group of thirty high school kids and sponsors from LifeSpring Christian Church in Cincinnati stay with us at Keele. They came to Toronto looking for a multicultural experience and a chance to help us serve the community.

It was a wild and busy week. Many of our youth, including my kids, bonded with the Cincinnati group – so much so that they camped out with them for most of the week and lamented their leaving. It was encouraging to see the friendships and fellowship flow. It was also great to have the group help our youth with a door-to-door food drive for the local food bank. The food drive was a big success and it helped to stock the shelves of the food bank at a time when their supplies were critically low.
On the multicultural front, one of the highlights of the week was a visit to the new Hindu BAPS Swaminarayan Temple. To say the structure was impressive, inside and out, is an understatement. I’ve never seen this level of craftsmanship before—period! There are no metal supports or concrete in the complex. In fact, there is not even one nail in this enormous structure. It is made entirely of interlocking stone based on the old school temple building ways perfected in India centuries ago. Each stone was hand-carved in India and then shipped to Toronto where the entire structure was then assembled and finished by volunteers. It took 5 years and untold man-hours, not to mention $40,000,000 to complete. As you can see from the accompanying photo, the work continues even now.

Equally impressive to me were our young tour guides. I would say they were 13-15 years-old, and like any kids you’d run across in Toronto, maybe a bit better behaved, but you know what I mean, they were Canadians through and through. Yet they were also tour guides for the temple and part of the religious community represented by the temple. Their skill in explaining their culture and religion was impressive. Their style was simple, friendly, and matter of fact. It was strange, and quite frankly disturbing to hear them talk so casually about worshipping idols. At the same time, their sincerity was obvious and worthy of respect.

I particularly liked the part of the tour in which they talked about some of the Indian symbols that were carved into the various pillars throughout the temple. They explained, for example, the significance of the elephant. The elephant is powerful, but also a vegetarian, thus it stands for power in the context of non-violence. My favourite symbol was that of the lotus flower. The lotus flower grows in swamps and thus it is an image of purity and beauty growing in the midst of decay. So, the lotus is a symbol that reminds us that it is our duty to have a beautiful life in a world that is often decaying and corrupt. I realize this is a Hindu symbol but, man it preaches!

Toward the end of the tour, our guide talked about how each stone was placed and cleaned and polished by volunteers. The entire community built this impressive structure together. He showed pictures of mothers, fathers, and children, washing and tending the stonework. I couldn’t help but imagine the sense of community, belonging, and identity this sacrifice of time and effort brought to the congregation at this temple. It was a powerful testimony and reminder to me about what’s possible when people get together, work together, sacrifice together and focus together on a united dream. When that happens the results are always impressive.

I walked away from the temple with mixed feelings. There was much to admire, but much, as a follower of Christ, that disturbed me as well.

The thought that I keep coming back to, though, is simply this: What if the Church were as serious about sacrificing, serving, participating in, and uniting over the common goal of building the Kingdom of God as this group of believers were in building a Hindu temple? What if we took the same pride and care in building something that would last beyond our years. What if we were about leaving a legacy that would inspire those who come after us? What if we were just as clear in communicating in natural, simple, effective ways, the importance of our relationship with Christ? What if we all saw ourselves as a lotus of beauty in a world of decay? What could we accomplish together, with all hands polishing and cleaning? What if we were more serious about allowing God to build us into His temple? Now that is a dream worth pursuing!

“Together, we are his house, built on the foundation of the apostles and the prophets. And the cornerstone is Christ Jesus himself. We are carefully joined together in him, becoming a holy temple for the Lord.” (Ephesians 2:20-21, NLT)