Thursday March 30, 2023

Less than ten days into official spring, and the daphne bush by my front door has purple blossoms opening like lips awaiting a kiss.
Last year’s peonies are poking green fingers through the soil.
The buds on my neighbour’s magnolia tree swell as if pregnant with possibilities.
And that reliable harbinger of spring, the rhubarb plant from my mother-in-law’s garden 30 years ago, has thrust a dozen dark red erections through the debris of last year’s rotting leaves.
Sorry, I can’t help using sexual imagery to describe spring. Spring, as the line from Tennyson’s poem goes, is when a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
And not just some young man’s fancy. Along the lake, ducks who usually paddle in flocks are pairing up.
A B.C. Hydro crew was up a 40-foot pole, repairing an osprey nest in which the big raptors will soon lay eggs.

Sensual and sexual
Spring is an incredibly sensual, sexual, time of year. So why should I apologize for using sexual imagery to describe it?
Is this a taboo from Victorian times, when even piano legs had to be covered lest they excite irrepressible lust?
Does it go back to Augustine of Hippo, in North Africa, theorizing that the “original sin” of Adam and Eve was passed down through history by sex?
Last Saturday was Annunciation Day, the day when, according to the Bible, an angel told Mary she would have a child. Interestingly, April 25 is exactly nine months before Christmas.
Sex is integral to life. All life.
Life, as we know it – I won’t speculate about other planets – began when two bacteria got together.
Every human being on this planet exists because of sex. Even those conceived by some variant of artificial insemination had to have a sperm penetrate an ovum.

Deep roots
When I visited ancient pagan sites in Ireland, I was struck by the imagery. On one day of the year, the rays of the rising sun penetrated deep into a sacred space, an inner sanctum, often hidden within a hill of earth that strongly resembled to a pubic mound.
The biblical book commonly called the Song of Solomon is unquestionably erotic. Perhaps that’s why the Revised Common Lectionary, used by many churches and denominations to define the scripture readings for each Sunday, uses the Song of Solomon just twice. Out of 156 Sundays.
I was asked, once, to preach on one of those Sundays. My church’s hymnbook includes 899 hymns and refrains. Not one of them deals with sex. It indexes them into 466 subject categories and sub-categories. Again, no sex.
I had a hard time choosing hymns for that service.
Are we afraid that acknowledging the reality of sex might lead to rampant promiscuity? Fornication in our aisles?
My childhood classmate Jane Downs was leading a women’s study group, when someone asked what spiritual union with God might be like. “Think of the best orgasm you ever had,” Janie told them.
Shocking idea?
Face it – we are both sensual and sexual beings. Four of our five senses are in our heads. When we reject sexuality/sensuality, we deny the largest sense organ of our bodies -- our skins.
I’m not endorsing sex in the streets. I am arguing that we need to be more than disembodied heads. We need to be whole beings.
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Copyright © 2023 by Jim Taylor. Non-profit use in congregations and study groups, and links from other blogs, welcomed; all other rights reserved.
To comment on this column, write jimt@quixotic.ca
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YOUR TURN

“I'm still laughing,” Jim McKean wrote after reading last week’s column about messages on answering machines. “Now I have to go and reprogram my answering machine.”

Ralph Milton recalled the good old pre-AI days: In the Philippines there were only about a hundred people on the whole system. No long distance. And Nilda, the operator, always knew where anyone was. Once she told me, ‘Tanting is on his way to your house.’ When I turned around there he was. Best phone system we were ever on. We didn't have AI. We had HI, human intelligence, and it was a whole lot better.”

Bob AtLee: described his all-time favourite for brevity, coming from a work colleague: "This is Mike. You know the drill."
Bob went on to criticize a specific voice-mail system, “which can't process me telling it ‘Human please’ (WestJet). The company that supplied the AI won an award. Apparently they didn't talk to real customers.”

Ruth Shaver: “Someday, my voicemail message will tell people, ‘You have reached Zip, Dip, and RIP, formerly known as Match 'em, Hatch 'em, and Dispatch'em. Leave a message for the boss and she'll get back to you when she's done zipping, dipping, or ripping for the day.’
“I suspect it will only be when I am fully retired and no longer handling weddings, baptisms, or funerals…”

Tom Watson: Thanks for the hilarious answering machine messages. My sister and husband have this on their phone: ‘You have reached the home of Grandma Ruth and Grandpa Harry. We are rushing to get to the phone but if we don't make it please leave your name and phone number and we'll call you back.’”

Mary-Margaret Boone: “I recognize some of the answering messages and I have a friend whom I call and hope they don't answer because their answering machine messages are so creative and sometimes sung. But here is one to add to your repertoire! ‘Hi You have reached the Boone's summer residence. Some are here and some aren't -- leave a message!’”

And finally – just to keep the merriment going – Isabel Gibson sent a list of answering machine messages that carefully uses each of the numbers on the keypad [slightly edited]:
o If you are obsessive-compulsive, press 1 repeatedly.
o If you are co-dependent, please ask someone to press 2 for you.
o If you have multiple personalities, press 3, 4, 5 and 6.
o If you are delusional, press 7 and your call will be transferred to the mother ship.
o If you are dyslexic, press 96969696969696.
o If you have a nervous disorder, please fidget with the hash key until a representative comes online.
o If you have amnesia press 8 and state your name, address, phone number, date of birth, social security number and your mother's maiden name.
o If you have post-traumatic stress disorder, slowly and carefully press 000.
o If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term memory loss, press 9.

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Psalm paraphrase

This Sunday may be either Palm Sunday, a celebration of Jesus “triumphal” entry to Jerusalem, or Passion Sunday, anticipation of Jesus’ trial and execution. Some years I prefer Passion Sunday; this year I prefer Palm Sunday.
And I recalled winter vacations, leaving behind the grey snow and grey skies of urban Toronto, and flying south to a Caribbean island. In this paraphrase of parts of Psalm 118, I wondered if the welcome given to Jesus when he entered Jerusalem felt as good as a tropic island feels to winter-weary Canadians?

19 An honor guard of palms salutes the sky;
I extend my arms to embrace paradise!
20 Now I know heaven on earth.
The sweet scent of spices seduces me.

21 Like wisps of smoke escaping from a dying fire,
I sent my prayers to you;
Morning and evening, I pleaded with you.
And you gave me another chance!
22 The blossoms that others discarded have become a garland around my neck.

23 Only the Lord could have done this.
I can hardly believe my senses.
24 Only God could create a day like this;
The very stones cry out with delight.
25 Hosanna, Lord, what a heavenly day!

26 Do these people take God for granted?
Do they realize they have heaven among them?
27 Only God can give such glorious perspectives.
Even the palms raise their arms to praise their creator;
The whole world is God's holy altar.

28 You are my God;
my heart overflows with happiness.
You are my God;
I'll dance in your garden.
29 Thank you God! Life is good!
May you continue forever!