John 6:44 – No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. (NRSV)

David Vuckson was raised in Collingwood, Ontario, Canada, where he attended First Presbyterian Church. Eventually, he drifted away from home and from his faith. He moved to the west coast where he pursued his profession — tuning pianos — not giving much thought to his Creator. One day while working in the music shop, one of his colleagues mentioned that they had acquired a Bell piano taken in on consignment.

"I learned to play on a Bell back home in Ontario, so I decided to check out the old piano," recalls David. "I thought, 'Hey, it has the same scroll work as mom's old piano. And it has nicks and scrapes in the same places ours did.'"

This was too much of a coincidence for David, so he removed a key in the lower register, and found his own signature and the date: Dec. 3, 1965. His childhood piano had followed him from Ontario to Vancouver Island, and showed up where David worked to send him a message.

He elaborated: "The moment I saw it was my old boyhood piano, it was as if all my boyhood came flooding back to me, and with it, memories of my boyhood faith."

The Holy Spirit used this improbable "coincidence" to tap David on the shoulder. And most importantly, David heard the voice. "Pam and I joined an Alpha group and reaffirmed our adult faith."

David bought the piano and donated it to St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, where it sits in St. Andrew's social suite as a reminder both of the lengths to which God will go, and that He will use the language we know best to remind us where home is.

Prayer: Thank You, Lord, for abundant evidence that You are alive and well, and active in this world, drawing people to Yourself in amazing ways, through the power of Your Holy Spirit. Draw each of us closer to Yourself today in some unexpected way. In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen.

October 13, 1960, Forbes Field, Pittsburgh — the Pirates won the World Series, beating the New York Yankees on Bill Mazeroski's bottom-of-the-ninth home run. I remember watching it the year I was 13. We saw it on a small television in the cafeteria of Hamilton Junior High School in Lethbridge, Alberta. Mazeroski's home run came in the bottom of the ninth inning of game 7, with the score tied at 9-9. As the ball cleared the fence, I erupted with joy. It was an incredible moment that any kid and most adults dream of.

Two years later I had a taste of that as I led our junior high football team to the championship. I scored two touchdowns and was carried from the field by my team-mates, which was a huge thrill for a fifteen-year-old. My father kept the newspaper clippings until his death.

And now decades later I wonder — what if that day was the highlight of my life? I have had a life in ministry, some of it as a church pastor and some as a pastoral counsellor. There have been the usual and some not so usual ups and downs. But I think there have been greater victories than the Hamilton Jr. High championship of 1962. Every time a person has found their way back to God, or has responded to being found of God, represents a far greater victory than any sports championship. For what can you give to redeem your own soul? In a moment of grace, in an eyeblink in time, eternity turns on its great hinge of the cross of Christ and heaven is opened.

This is always true, but I find a special pleasure when the person is one nearing the end of life. This is like winning the game in the bottom of the ninth in the last at-bats. There are special joys in all ministry. Youth ministry has its joys of contributing to a lifetime of faithfulness. Ministry to the retired has its joys because those with the perspective of years have so much to teach us. For those who come to it anew or return after many years of hiatus, there is a special joy because in such a moment, if you listen, you can hear angel laughter on the ripples of eternity. It sounds remarkably like the echo of horse-hide against ash and an over-the-top exclamation, "It is … over the fence, home run!" (which were the actual words of the announcer that day). Or better yet, "Rejoice, for I have found my sheep!"

Prayer: Lord, thank you for the pleasures and thrills of this life, but help us to seek the thrill of eternity in every living soul. Amen.

The principal link between Vancouver Island where I live and the mainland portion of British Columbia is an hour and a half ferry ride. The mid-point of the trip is Active Pass, a narrow passage between two of the Gulf Islands between Victoria and Vancouver. No matter how often I make the trip, I usually put down my magazine or book and just watch as we negotiate the passage, which I would guess is about a mile in length and about as wide as a good-sized river. Usually two ferries pass in opposite directions and that is interesting to see. From the middle of the ferry, it almost looks like the boat is on dry land since all that can be seen from the windows are the islands.

There are homes along the shores of both islands, and, one winter morning while it was still dark for the early morning sailing, I had a close encounter with an island resident. He had apparently just arisen and was sitting in his glassed-in living room with his paper and cup of coffee as we sailed past his front window. I could see him sitting there watching us as I sat on board the ferry watching him. It was a curious moment.

There have been other close encounters. From time to time pods of orcas, or killer whales, make the passage and the ferry captain will announce their presence and slow the boat while passengers crowd the railing to watch the show in the sea below. In past years when salmon were abundant and fishing less restricted, the pass would be crowded with small pleasure boats. It was always a bit thrilling to watch a person with a line doubled-over from a salmon react to the sharp whistle blasts of the ferry. Would the fish be landed before the ferry got there, or could the boat manage to get out of the way without losing its prize?

One time a number of years ago, a Russian freighter tried to negotiate the narrow passage and wasn't able to turn in time and sliced into a ferryboat. Freighters have since been banned from Active Pass. Most of the time the passage is uneventful, but unless I am very deeply in thought, I always take the occasion to stop what I am doing and watch — just in case.

I think, though, of the passage in Hebrews where we are encouraged to entertain strangers not knowing when or where we will entertain angels. This is a different kind of encounter. To my knowledge, I have not entertained angels of the sort Abraham and Sarah and other Biblical characters met. However Matthew 25:40 tells us we entertain our Lord unawares every time we take the time to care for "the least" of His brothers and sisters.

Besides being a minister in a Presbyterian Church on Vancouver Island, I am also chaplain to disabled adults in a couple of group homes. Every time I visit them, I leave aware of having been touched, of having met Christ in the broken ones He has given to us. These are close encounters of the most precious kind, and yet I wonder how often I overlook the angel at my elbow.

Prayer: Lord give us eyes to see others as you see them and to see you in the faces around us. Amen.

I was having coffee with a friend recently and he told me this story of growing up on a farm in central Manitoba, Canada. "I was out plowing in a corner of our field when I saw this huge plume of smoke from a neighbour's farm. I noticed him out working in his farm near me and hurried over to him. "Emil, your barn is burning!" I told him. He replied, "Is that my place? I thought it was my neighbour's."

We chuckled at the humour, years later. I wondered if Emil's neighbours were as apparently indifferent to his plight as he had been, thinking it was theirs rather than his own. My friend, Eli, had been concerned enough to hurry over to collect Emil, but that is what I would have expected from him.

This story reminds me of the poem by John Donne containing the famous line, "Never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." (Meditation 17) Donne, besides being a brilliant poet, was, as Dean of St. Paul's in London, a pretty fair preacher as well. He reminds us, as Eli's story does, that as human beings, we are connected both by our common humanity and our Lord's command. Jesus reminds us of the same in his story of the Good Samaritan.

St. Paul from whom Donne's parish was named, exhorts us to "bear one another's burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ." (Galatians 6:2) It was Jesus who said that the evidence to the unbelieving world of His claims would be the love shown one another by the church. (John 13:35)

Frances Schaeffer, in his series "How Then Shall We Live," said in the mid-1970's that one of the great curses of the modern age are the twin gods of affluence and the quest for personal peace, regardless of truth, justice or others' welfare. As long as I have what I think I need, does it matter if I can see the smoke from my neighbours? Apparently, yes, it does.

Prayer: Lord, deliver us from the desire to escape the pain of suffering, especially that of our neighbours. Amen.

Luke 11:11,13 – Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!

One of our memorable Christmas pageants had the junior Sunday School playing the parts of the Biblical characters. Mary and Joseph, with their ceramic doll Jesus, sat quietly and almost beatifically until the arrival of the bathrobed magi.

Then as the three kings gave their gifts to the baby Jesus, a fight broke out. It may have been inadequate stage direction or lack of rehearsal, but whatever the reason, Mary and Joseph began wrestling over the gifts. Baby Jesus was unceremoniously dumped on the carpet and the magi gaped in wonder at it all.

At Pentecost we again celebrate the giving of gifts. This time it is God who gives them to us in the Person of the Holy Spirit. The early church even got into a fight over this, disagreeing over whether the Spirit came from the Father only, or from both the Father and Jesus the Son. It was enough of a disagreement to split the early church into its western, Roman Catholic, and eastern Orthodox segments. How His children do love to fight over His gifts!

Even now, a person could stir up a bit of ruckus in some churches by talking about those wonderful gifts of Pentecost. Some of us love to flaunt them, some claim them exclusively while others declare they can live very well without them, thank you very much, seeing as how we truly have love… unlike some others we know!

The other part of the passage from Ephesians that mentions the gifts, also says Jesus brought captives in His train. He made sin and death his captives upon dying and rising to conquer them both. I wonder who set them free again. I bet it was one of those other churches — they can be such trouble-makers.

I always wondered why God didn't make peace, love, forbearance, long-suffering and the other "fruits" of the spirit into the gifts of the spirit. The implication is that fruits need to be grown, while gifts are only received. Time for a little pruning methinks. Ouch!

Prayer: Dear Lord, thank you for your gifts of grace, and give us the further grace to grow the fruits to use them wisely. Amen.

Outside the office of Island Pastoral Services in Victoria, British Columbia, where I do some counselling work in addition to the ministry at Westshore, there is a giant outside on the lawn. It is a youngster at that, but no less gigantic for the fact. Outside our office stands a Sequoia tree, a native of northern California.

A number of trees were imported into the Victoria area in the last century. They were selected from an area in California with a similar climate to Vancouver Island and then shipped on a square-rigged-schooner out of San Francisco. Local folk gathered at the dock when the ship arrived and collected the seedlings which were planted around the district — often on farms, which have now been incorporated into the city.

These imports have fared very well. You can select a high point in the city and if you look around, can easily pick them out. They are head and shoulders higher than the native Douglas Fir or Western Red Cedars, which are very large trees. They are giants and only just over a hundred years old. If the Lord tarries and they are cared for, they will grow for another eight or nine hundred years and tower over the landscape. Even now they are giants.

I am very fond of these trees and know the location of most of them around the metropolitan area. They are visible giants, and remind me that we are surrounded by both a cloud of witnesses and also by God's angels. In the passage in 2 Kings 6, the Aramean army has surrounded Elisha's house and his servant is terrified. Elisha's calming words are that there are more with us than with them. He then prays that the young man's eyes be opened and the Lord's hosts are revealed.

I like the idea of giants in the neighbourhood — both the botanical and spiritual variety. It is comforting to know that God has given the heavenly host charge to minister and protect us from the full onslaught of the adversary. Those giants in the neighbourhood help me sleep better when things go bump in the night.

Prayer: Lord, thank you for your ministering servants both of flesh and spirit whom you have sent for our edification, sustenance and protection. Amen.

As a new church on the western outskirts of Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, one of the tasks for our group is to come up with a name for ourselves. In the passage from Isaiah, God promises to give a name to His servants. This presumably will be an eschatological or heavenly name. In the meantime we also give churches their temporal name. In Genesis 28, Jacob camps out in the open and during the night, sees angels ascending and descending upon a ladder from heaven to earth. He calls the place Bethel, which means literally, "house of God".

I've known many churches that have taken that name — usually Pentecostal or Baptist. Actually, calling a church Bethel Presbyterian Church would be redundant, as it would mean house of God church and since a church is a house of God, the two terms together are redundant. So the church should simply have a sign in front proclaiming, "Bethel" and nothing more. However, since we don't anticipate many folks in our new neighbourhood will read Hebrew, the conversation would probably go like this:

"George, look at that church sign: 'Bethel'. Where's the rest of the name?"

"I think they are Presbyterians, Mabel, and couldn't fit both words in the space."

We also have a quandary, as both St. Andrew's and Knox have been taken. I had a few suggestions, to which no one pays much attention. We are almost at the end of the Trans-Canada highway and have many seniors, and so I thought "Last Chance Presbyterian" would be good. No one else seems to agree, but then Sooke is west of here and the last stop westward, but they call themselves Knox.

I've noticed the Lutherans use the fruits of the Spirit for their church names. I've seen Hope Lutheran, Grace Lutheran, and Peace Lutheran among others. One member of the Sunday School wrote on her ballot, "The New Victorian Church of Love Presbyterian Church". I am very proud that she sees us that way, but doubt it will gain much support. It is curious too, don't you think, that no one uses all the fruits of the Spirit for naming churches. I've suggested the name "Long-suffering Presbyterian Church", and get some knowing glances. No one says so, but I think they would be happier with shorter sermons. Come to think of it, I don't care for that name or even "Patience Presbyterian", though is has a nice sound.

Actually I'm not at all worried about what names folks suggest. I think they will make a good responsible choice. They are Presbyterians, after all.

Another thing that is worth remembering is that in the long run we will be known by our fruit, if not named by them. I would not be unhappy overhearing in the coffee shop someone say to a friend:

"I know where your family can go for some help and spiritual guidance."

"Where's that? We've almost given up looking."

"Oh, you know, that Presbyterian church with the odd name."

"Oh, that one! OK, it's worth a try."

Prayer: Lord, whatever we are named on earth, we know that we are yours, and offer to you today the gift of wearing your name with pride and joy. Amen.