Friday, February 26, 2010

Give to us laughter ... the inner conversation ...


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Apparently, if you ask 100 people at random - "Do you talk to yourself?" approximately 80% will immediately and without hesitation answer "Yes."
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The other 20% pause and have an internal dialogue that goes something like this:
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"Talk to myself? I don't think I talk to myself ..."
"That's kinda crazy ..."
"Yeah, I don't talk to myself, do I?"
"Naw, you don't talk to yourself ..."
"You're right. I don't talk to myself."
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Then they will answer - "NO!!"
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We ALL do it ... and I for one have always said "talking to yourself is not the problem, even arguing with yourself is not a problem. It is ONLY a problem when you lose the arguments !!!"

Thursday, February 25, 2010

End of the Road !!!! (THANK GOD !!!!)

The Hummer has come to a CRASHING END !!!

In my opinion they represent the worst of the worst in our culture ... they were nothing more than an over priced, gas-guzzling monstrosity that served only to stroke the inflated egos of those foolish enough to buy (or lease) the damnable things ... the defensive gymnastics Hummer owners would make to justify owning these ostentatious beasts was breath-taking at the very least, offensive at every level and unbelievably egotistical ...

I weep no tears at the news this GMC Brand is being shut down because no one is foolish enough to buy the damned things ... maybe NOW American car manufacturers will get it ... too many of the products rolling out of Detroit over the last quarter of a century have been out of touch with reality and tried in vain to convince the masses that "what's good for Detroit is good for you," by marketing garbage ...

Bye bye Hummer ... wish I could say it's been fun ... but that would be a lie !!

Friday, February 19, 2010

The Loss of Living Memory ...

I cherish the afternoon chats I had with a gentleman by the name of Herb ... he was at the time 104 years old, and with nary a grey hair on his head, shared with me memories of the war that loomed large in his recollections of his youth. One day not long before Remembrance Day I happened into Herb's room in the care facility where he lived, and we began chatting about his experience as a veteran.

He pulled out a yellowed envelope and showed me the certificate of appreciation he had long ago received for his service in a battle now known simply as Vimy. He spoke of the gas attacks he endured in those harrowing days, he talked about the lasting damage the battle left on his brother and then he showed me the scars of his wounds ... That day I heard first hand about a battle I had read a dozen books and accounts of, and for a moment understood the magnitude of the events that were slowly slipping from our grasp as those with living experience and living memories of those days were slowly aging and dying ...

I consider it a blessing, to have met men and women who have served in the Two World Wars, and in the Korean War and Peace keeping missions that followed ... they have graciously shared their memories and recollections and added to my understanding of these events as they've shared what they saw and felt and experienced ...

Today we say our farewells as a people and a nation to the last survivor who served Canada in Uniform during The War to End All Wars of 1914 to 1918 ... John Babcock, who began life a mere 109 years ago in the farming district not far from Kingston Ontario has ended his earthly journey as the Last Surviving Veteran of World War One (The CBC story is here).

For the first time in our history as a nation, there are no stooped grey headed veterans to stand and honour the fallen from the war that so shocked and horrified the world, that they implemented an annual day of Remembrance with the vow of never forgetting the fallen as we work for the advancement of peace ... almost a century and several wars later, we are still striving for that goal.

Today we pause to salute the memory of folks like Mr. Babcock, Herb and the others who were part of our living memory and who from failing hands entrusted the torch of Remembrance for us to hold high as we proclaim the importance of Remembering ...

Lest We Forget !!

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

A show with dinner ...


Right at dinner time Ms. H. noticed the flashing lights of a firetruck on the street in front of our house ... the neighbours tree was on fire!!
The prompt response of the Brandon Fire Department kept the fire from spreading, or the tree from falling ... a little bit of excitement on a cold Shrove Tuesday ... then it was back in side for our dinner of hotcakes and bacon!! With hot cornbread with ice cream for dessert!
And with that Lent begins ...

A study in what Ahimsa is NOT ...

The exchange went something like this:

Social activist, "we are practising Gandhian non-violence ..."

Me, "um, no you're NOT."

Social activist, "yes we are. We are practising Gandhian non-violence in our opposition to what is happening in the woods ..."

Me, "um, NO YOU'RE NOT. The first principle of Gandhian Non-violence is NO HARM, and you're causing harm all over the place ..."

Social Activist, "No we're not causing harm ..."

Me, "There are families divided - brothers not speaking to each other, fathers disowning their children ... the community is divided by anger and hatred ... that is not only HARM, it is the most visceral form of violence. YOU are NOT practising Gandhian non-violence ..."

Social Activist, "We have members of our team who have studied Gandhian Non-Violence with Dr. Graham McQueen at McMaster University ..."

Me, "So have I ..."

And there the exchange ended ... a community remained divided ... and when the meeting broke up I had a half dozen environmental activists descend on me like jackals on a carcass insisting that THEIR take on Gandhian Non-Violence was indeed consistent with the teachings of the Mahatma, and that I was wrong to dub the damage being done to the community, to families and to individuals as VIOLENCE ... they were insistent that they were not responsible for the anger that welled up in a community as they engaged in their acts of "non-violent civil disobedience". They likened thier actions to that of BOTH Gandhi and King ... I shook my head and suggested they need to go back and read the lessons offered by these great men, because when you are harming the very people you are claiming to help you are not embodying anything close to Ahimsa nor Satyagraha as envisioned by the Mahatma.

After that the activists tended to avoid me ... and the lawyers for the Forestry Company they were fighting called me to learn more about the McMaster programme and the writings of the both Gandhi and King ...

Today I thought of that exchange in Bella Coola almost a decade and a half ago as I read the coverage of the riots in Vancouver, CBC Coverage here: Anti-Olympic rioters smash Vancouver Store Windows and the foolish insistence that they were merely acts of "civil disobedience."

I don't think so.

I agree with those voices on all sides that are condemning the actions of these yahoos and hooligans who mask themselves with anonymity and engage in violence while purporting to champion the cause of the poor, the homeless and the otherwise marginalized.

Tossing a garbage can through the window of a faceless corporation is an act of violence ...

Breaking windows and looting are acts of violence ...

Rioting in the streets, even for the most just cause imaginable is an act of violence ...

I applaud the restraint of the Police who have met these demonstrations with surprising restraint ... and I applaud the BC Civil Liberties Union that has condemned the violence.

The cause of helping the marginalized and the homeless might well be just and right - but the facts being cited by those organizing these violent protests is unfortunately suspect at best ... and in the process they cross the line of "no harm" on many levels ...

They are causing harm to business owners ... they are causing harm to themselves and the peace officers charged with keeping order ... and in the long run they are causing harm to the very people they claim to be helping ... how many hearts are hardened to the poor and homeless by what has been seen in the media?? How many donations of time, money and resources have been truncated by the senseless violent actions of people who are not interested in real and lasting help to the marginalized, but only in grand standing for their own egos?

No harm means doing something meaningful and tangible to help those you claim to be speaking for ... breaking store windows hurts not only the cause you champion, it hurts those who need help to begin with ... and it makes us all look bad.

No harm means NO HARM any where ... the demonstrations in Vancouver like those in Bella Coola are harming everyone, and the well heeled children of privilege who have appointed themselves as spokes people for the marginalized are the last to realize this ...

In the meantime ... poverty continues ... the Games continue ... the majority of people are left angry about what they've seen.

There is a better way to address poverty and homelessness that remains consistent with Gandhian principles of non-violence ... but it means working tirelessly away from the spot light and the media glare ...

A glimmer of hope and gift of love ...

Every once in awhile you stumble on to something that causes you to pause and smile and realize the impact that small gestures can have ... it's like the old cause-effect adage: "a butterfly in China fluttered her wings ..."

At First Presbyterian Church in Portage a decision was made to support a donation of comfort dolls to ICross Canada, a charity who collect these beautiful little hand crafted dolls, and use them as packing material for humanitarian aid being sent overseas. The intent is that the packing material is taken out and given to children at the receiving end, giving them a tiny beautiful little toy/pal to play with ...

The Comfort Doll effort started slowly at First ... a few dolls trickled in during the first weeks ... then a few more ... until just after Christmas there were 97 comfort dolls to be packaged up and sent off ... the organizers receiving the dolls informed the organizer at Portage that their priority now is helping Haiti, meaning on the Sunday that we sang a lament hymn from the Presbyterian Church on the earthquake in Haiti, these little friends would begin making thier way to the hands of children in Haiti along with much needed humanitarian and medical supplies ...

97 little friends from Portage jave begun thier journey and this week 64 more appeared in the basket at the back of the Sanctuary ... The laughter and joy these BEAUTIFUL little people brought the congregation is a reminder that the few minutes spent creating a simple and colourful doll makes a difference half a world away ... Making a difference in the world can sometimes be THAT simple ...

Thanks to the knitters in Portage who have crafted these beautiful little dolls!! It's a glimmer of grace and truly a gift of love !!

140 ...

Corporal Caleb Baker age 24, from Edmonton,
served with the Loyal Edmonton Regiment,
4th Battalion Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry,
he died in a training exercise on Friday February 12th 2010
in Afghanistan.
The story passed almost unnoticed in the hype of the Olympics,
and the coverage of other stories ...
His body is making its way home to his grieving family,
and our Military Forces mark the 140th death of
a Canadian Soldier in Afghanistan ...
Thoughts and prayers for Corporal Baker's family,
his comrades who were wounded in the mishap,
and all those who remain in Afghanistan.
Lest We Forget !!

Friday, February 12, 2010

Four Years ago today ...


He and his buddies used to live in a basket in the basement, that several days a week rang with the laughter and chatter of happy nursery school students ... They would be dumped, unceremoniously out on the floor and in the rush that comes with the under-5 crowd, they would be played with, dropped, abandoned, retrieved and put back in the basket for another day of play ... His was a contented existence for a toy ...
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Then in the early morning hours of February 12th 2006, his world changed ... upstairs at a back window gasoline was poured on the floor and a match dropped to light it ... the first couple of attempts were unsuccessful ... then after retrieving deposit envelopes from a nearby ATM the fire took hold ... the flickering glow of flames through the stained glass windows was noted by a passing vehicle whose occupants had come to investigate why there were people lurking on the roof of the church on such a bitterly cold night ... using their cell phone they called in the suspicious activity and the fire that they could see dancing behind the stained glass windows ...
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The police were called ... the fire department was dispatched, and the two young man in the car followed the suspects through town until they lost their trail somewhere in the streets and back alleys ... a description had been called in ... the Police were on thier way ...
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By the time the phone rang at 5:58am and the former editor of the local weekly paper told me that "your church is on fire" ... the fire men had been on scene for over and hour fighting valiantly, though in vain to conquer the flames ... the RCMP had the suspects in custody ... and news was seeping through town ...
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By the time I stood outside the Church at 6:05, we knew several things ... the fire was spreading ... it was arson ... the police already had someone ... and Sunday Services were going to be cancelled ...
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At 7 am the bell tower crashed through the roof and the building was a loss ... by 7:15, I had sent out an email to Presbytery and to other contacts asking for prayer and strength for the journey ahead ... by 10 am we had been offered space to gather in the basement of the Catholic Church ... and at 11 we broke bread, shared the cup and wept at what we had lost ...
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The following week, the basement of the sanctuary a blackened pit of shattered and burnt debris, we gathered across town in the sanctuary of the Catholic Church, who had graciously and generously taken us in as sisters and brothers of faith ... in that moment we whispered Hope ... we set out face on the journey ahead and dedicated ourselves to experiencing the resurrection that our Faith embodies ...
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Early that week the salvagable items were removed from the remains of the building, an office was set up across the street, and an attempt was made to resume our life and ministry ... the food for the food cupboard that had been lost (over 1500 lbs) was restored by the our sister organization Samaritan House in Brandon ... new Hymn Books were ordered ... Bibles were delivered ... and the donations, letters, and notes of support and care began to pour in ...
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But in the midst of the Resurrection the toxic legacy that has long dogged this place gained a toe hold ... in the rush to heal and return to wholeness, the unresolved issues of generations were ignored and overlooked ... darkness and light began a battle that would consume far more than the fire claimed ...
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Out of the ashes one cold afternoon tumbled my little friend ... his bright green garb was a stark contrast to the blackened debris that had entombed him ... smiling I plucked him from the icy grip of the devestation, and pocketed him ... a lone survior of the baskets of toys that for years had entertained the nursery school hosted in the basement ...
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Months later ... after my ministry was unceremonial ended ... after the heart was ripped from the community by the actions of those who have travelled the path before with my predecessors ... after the pronouncement was handed down that "everything is fine now" ... after I found myself ostracized, cast out, marginalized and despised by the "good" church people ... one day he tumbled out of a box of stuff in my office ...
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I lifted him ... the smell of smoke still clung to his plastic clothes ... my fingers were smudged with the ashes and soot that still stuck to him ... I smiled, tears welling in my eyes ...
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"Hello Buddy," I said as I sat down on the floor of my garage and examined him more closely ...
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Like me, he was a forgotten survivor ... like me he had been cast off and tossed aside ... like me, he was left to his own devices forgotten, unwanted and discarded ... like me he had been pushed into a lonely dark place as the voices in control and authority announced - "It's ALL better now!!!"
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Inadvertently, he tumbled out of the dark to lie blinking (figuratively) in the light ... through my tears of sorrow, hurt and remembrance, I gave thanks that he had returned in such an unexpected way ... I gave thanks that, even if he is only a tiny plastic toy, he knows what it is like to experience a loss that has neither ended, nor has been fully acknowledged by the very people who claim to be messengers of the Good News ... I gave thanks that I am not fully alone in the journey I have found myself on ...
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Today I cherish my little friend ... he survived the maelstrom ... he tumbled out of the debris ... and he triumphantly emerged from the darkness back into the light as a reminder that despite the best efforts of the fearfilled and the toxic, the Spirit shall not be thwarted, and the cosmic Karma will not be denied ...
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My little buddy - whom this day I name 'Job' - reminds me today, not so much the horrid event that began my day four years ago today ... but reminds me that one day I will emerge from this journey of marginalization, isolation, loneliness, and rejection and like those whom God has called to carry a prophetic message that disturbs and frightens many, I will one day find my life restored as the Biblical Job experienced ... and when that day comes my little friend will sit on my desk as a reminder of the journey we've been on ...
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The resurrection will come ... one day ... just not today ...
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Monday, February 08, 2010

Sparkles of Grace along the way ...

I have been feeling a heaviness of heart and soul this week ... and I know why ... it is more than the typical February Blah's and it is more than just utter exhaustion from working nine part-time jobs to try in vain to make ends meet economically ... I feel a heaviness of heart because we are drawing closer to the anniversary of February 12th 2006, when the 105 year old Sanctuary of Minnedosa United Church was consumed by fire, and I began the painful and devestating journey that has lead to my marginalization from ministry and from life in Western Manitoba ...

I can not approach the anniversary of this date with any thing but deep and profound sorrow at the gaping wound that remains in the wake of this senseless act of destruction ... There are those who are convinced that everything is fine, and that it's "all better" now ... they have closed thier eyes to much, and nothing I say, and nothing any one else says will change that. And they have powerful allies who take delight in reminding me that I am the sole problem and that the "community" has healed ...

Yeah ... selective vision is a marvelous thing ... too many voices express pain and sorrow and frustration for me to even pretend there has been anything remotely healthy or healing here ...

Yet, in this heaviness I find moments of Grace that leave me smiling ... sipping my coffee listening to CBC radio, watching my dogs play in the snow, enjoying the laborious walk that delivering papers requires, and knowing that even though I am utterly bone tired by the end of a week - I can look in the mirror and know that I have done everything that has been asked of me by God, by my conscience and by the Church - and the sting of rejection that I continue to live is NOT MY PROBLEM. I'm not the one who looks panicky when we meet in the mall, I'm not the one avoiding me downtown, I'm not the one wrapped in a cloak of righteousness and trembling in fear lest the secret that the "emperor" is wearing no clothes escapes ... I can walk with my head up and my conscience clear because I am not the toxic one any more ...

So, when I'm asked - "how are you?" I'll answer honestly - "BROKE, TIRED, bordering on homeless, hurt, angry, lonely, and feeling deeply rejected by the ONE body that should know better - the place that claims to welcome in ALL people unconditionally, and without hesitation ..." I won't lie any more and offer a fake smile and say - "Fine," and pretend it's all okay when it's not.

But having said that - I can honestly say that I am glad to be where I am ... I enjoy my beautiful children, I have new friendships and relationships that are exciting and life-affirming, and I know that the economic poverty I am experiencing will eventually pass, and I will look back on this time as a yeasty time of growth, reflection and Spiritual energy that moves me to a better, healthier and more Christ-Like setting ... and I find that whisper of hope in the quiet sparkles of Grace that I find periodically along the way ...

Today I found a sparkling gift of grace - it came in the form of a comment left on the posting for September 9th 2008 entitled "and now a word from a reader"

Cat The Goth wrote the following:

"I was googling some goth related search, and the little square graphic with the few facts about goths came up, and I saw it was on a site with a very Christian name and my initial reaction was going to be "oh no, another site claiming we're all a bunch of Satanists" but decided that I wasn't going to judge before I read. I'm very happy I did read, because I was proved completely wrong. It's nice to see common sense from the openly Christian because the most vocal 'Christians' I meet don't tend to be very good at following the teachings of Christ and very good at condemming. I was stopped in the street by street-preacher the other day, who, despite the fact I was wearing a rather obvious Celtic cross, decided to harangue me about my supposed 'Satanism'. No chance for me to explain about being a choir girl at St. Mary's... Thankyou for being open-minded and tolerant and for putting something on the web that shows to other Goths out there that Christianity has not placed itself as our enemy - that is the action of a rabid minority, not a faith, and certainly not God."

I am called to a ministry that is far bigger then the closed minds who would try to tear me down can ever envision ... I'm called to a ministry that welcomes and includes ALL people, not just the chosen few we are comfortable with ... I'm called to a ministry that embraces those the "good church people" would prefer to reject and cast out ...

I'm called to Ministry ... and A BIG piece of that call is what I've done here for the last few years ... Like Pope Benedict said a couple of weeks ago: BLOG !!!! For the love of God - BLOG!!!

Greg Mortenson - Tea to stones to schools - all in pursuit of Peace

"There are things you just don't understand ..."

I've lost count of how many times I heard that phrase rolling off the lips of one who was so deeply involved in politicial machinations and posturing that they failed to realize that what they were advocating was the blind support to the status quo, and the unwavering quest for photo ops and press conferences while little was being done to actually address the issues being raised in our community ... Over and over, staff and volunteers heard the same phrase - "There are things you just don't understand ..."

Over and over, the staff and volunteers shook their heads in amazement and disappointment and said under their breath - "really?" And set out to do what was needed IN spite of the stonewalling that was thrown up out of fear and ignorance ...

This morning sitting with a mug of steaming tea I spent time on Facebook reviewing pictures posted by a High School friend of his parents' recent 50th Anniversary celebration ... looking at the colourful pictures of his family dancing and celebrating the joyous occassion took me back to my highschool and university days when I spent countless hours with his family eating, dancing, and just enjoying life ... one picture of his father reminded me of the evening when we were sitting listening to tunes in the living room and his dad walked in and with his heavy Punjabi accent said - "No, no, boys. This is not okay ..."

I was expecting him to turn the music down, but instead he smiled as he reached for the volume control and he cranked it as LOUD as he could ...

"You have to FEEL the music ..." and he proceeded to dance around the living room in his own unique Pujabi inspired style, smiling, laughing and bopping to "Pump Up the Volume"!!

I look back with fondness on those memories ... in their own way, father and son taught me much about a culture very different from my own, but very similar ... They opened thier home and welcomed me in as friend and family ... I shared countless meals, and joined in many moments of laughter as I learned much about Sikhism and their life in both India and Canada ... There were marvelous meals full of laughter and good food, and there were moments where I realized what a challenge it is to be a visible minority in mult-cultural Canada.

One chilly spring morning, I was helping the family move the eldest sister and her family from one part of Toronto to another. I was the sole white boy among a towering crowds of bearded, turbaned Sikh men who looked ready for a battle field somewhere ... yet with laughter, smiles and slaps to the back, I was welcomed in and put to work like one of the family. After the moving van was loaded and ready to go we discovered it had been blocked in my a parked car.

A call was made and the Metro Toronto Police were summoned. The brother in law being moved went out to talk with the officers when they arrived and they kept saying - "there's nothing we can do ... there's nothing we can do ..."

One of the uncle gave me a shove and said - "Go talk to your people ..." With his chin he motioned to the Uniformed Officers. I reluctantly headed over to see what the problem was ... it's amazing what you'll do when a bearded Sikh man who towers over you and outweighs you two for one makes a suggestion.

When I stepped into the circle voices were being raised and the police were more insistent that there was absolutely nothing they could do about the parked car that was clearly illegally parked ... then the senior officer with his three stripes noticed me.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

I stumbled over my words as I said, "Um, I was just wondering what was holding up our moving van ..."

"You're with them?" he asked.

I nodded.

The officer looked at the brother-in-law and the other men standing with their arms crossed and said, "Let me see if we can run the plates ..."

Three minutes later a very apologetic man dashed out the back door of the apartment building and hopped in the car ... five minutes later we had thanked the police officers for thier help and our parade of vehicles pulled out of the parking lot ... The general consensus was that had they not had the token white guy with them, the Sikh family would still be waiting for the van to move ... Looking back over 20 years later, I can't help but agree ...

Our day ended with one of the most amazing and delicious spreads of food I've ever encountered ... I joined the men on the floor of the living room/dining room and was getting ready to dig in when one of the Uncles grabbed my wrist and said "No, no ..."

He then shouted something in Punjabi to the kitchen which was met with the sound of drawers opening and closing, and my friend laughing from across the room ... My friend said something to his Uncle in Punjabi that left the whole room laughing and me visibly confused. The Uncle turned to me and said "Really?"

I looked to my friend - now thoroughly confused ... "What?" I said bewildered ...

"Uncle wanted to get you a fork and spoon," said my friend, "But I told Uncle that you eat with your hands like normal people like us !!"

"Oh," my confusion evaporated quickly and was replaced by a sense of belonging ... "Yeah, right!" I said as I reached again for the food and joined in the well deserved feast ...

That day underscored for me a lesson that I've revisited over and over in my life - the power of fellowship forged around the table. Over food and beverage most of the world forges relationships and builds community one cup, one plate and one face to face contact at a time.

This was understood by the Early Church who shared the strong tribal culture of hospitality that continues to undergird the Middle East to this day. The power of breaking bread and sharing the cup was as much about the ethereal connectedness to something Holy and beyond ourselves, as it was to the action of breaking bread and sharing the cup with a stranger, a neighbour, a friend, or a family member. The Holiness was strengthened and under-girded by the mundane action ...

This concept has been central to the work and writings of American Activits Greg Mortenson, who has authored two books (Three Cups of Tea and Stones into Schools) which chronicle the work that he and the many people involved with the work of the Central Asia Institute (CAI - ikat.org) that has (and continues) to build schools throughout the mountainous regions of Pakistan and Afghanistan.

I will readily and openly admit that I am a 'johnny come lately' to the work of Mortenson and the CAI. The first I heard about him and his incredible work was an interview three weeks ago on CBC's The Sunday Edition when he was interviewed by Michael Enright (click here for the episode). I was driving to Portage and by the time I arrived I had to re-think some of the pieces of my sermon to fit in the startling new information ...

That night when I got back to Brandon I searched out a copy of "Stones into Schools" and bought it ... I read late into the night until I couldn't hold my eye lids up any longer ... The next day I went searching for a copy of "Three Cups of Tea." I devoured both books and have used them in both my work on my Masters Thesis, AND in my preaching and writing since ...

The whole premise of Mortenson's work is breathtakingly simple ... he is ALL about education. He wants to lift the veil of illiteracy and ignorance that comes when children and their education are neglected, and instead of receiving a much needed and deserved education, they are instead given ONLY the indoctrination of small minded political and pseudo-religious instruction that may pass for education.

Through his stories and experiences, Mortenson shows his readers what is possible when over tea and meals trust is built, relationships are strengthened and people are honoured ... He doesn't come and build a school to help the people, instead he comes and helps the people build and run their OWN school ... over and over, communities have searched him out seeking a school for thier children.

Even in the wake of the events and conflict that emenated from 9/11, Mortenson found his cause strengthened rather than weakened ... he expanded the work of the CAI into Afghanistan and in the process reflects on the importance of slowing down, and listening to the stories of the people we may found ourselves surrounded by ...

Along the way, Mortenson continues to challenge those who seek security through military effort, to consider the investment costs of a smart bomb ... instead of spending millions of dollars on armament that devestates buildings, countryside and lives, that money could be spent building schools that will give rise to teachers, doctors, nurses, and community involved children who will forge a peace more lasting than any bomb could ever offer.

Most telling however, is the wonderful account Mortenson relates of battle hardened veterans who put down put down their AK-47's and spend time playing on the slides, swings and teeter-tooters of a school they were visiting. These men were the core supporters of the Taliban, and yet after that 45 minutes of play, they were committed to building a school for thier community's boys AND girls ... their only caveat was that the new school HAD to have a playground too!!

By sharing these stories, Mortenson reveals not only the necessity of education as a foundation to a lasting peace for humanity. He reveals, perhaps in advertently, the danger of ignorance in our world.

The last chapters of "Three Cups of Tea" celebrate the power of education and the changes it can make to the individual lives of young women, to their communities and their countries. The best counsel Mortenson offers comes from a former Pakistani general who noted "the enemy is ignorance. The only way to defeat it is to build relationships with these people, to draw them into the modern world with education and business. Otherwise the fight will go on forever."

Ignorance is the real enemy in our world. As an adage reminds us - 'the difference between genius and ignorance is that ignorance has no limits ..."

There are truly ignorant people in the mountains and valleys of Pakistan, Afghanistan and the Middle East, and there are truly ignorant people living in our towns and cities in North America. Fortunately, there are determined people like Greg Mortenson and the many others involved with the CAI who are doing everything they can to lift the veil of ignorance through the power and value of education.

"There are things you just don't understand ..." is a statement of profound ignorance. It is safe, and it is secure, and it precludes any discomfort or challenge to the status quo. Thankfully when folks like Greg Mortenson encounter such an attitude, they set their jaws and offer the opportunity for true enlightenment for the one who would dare to oppose the dynamism of change and growth and education in our community and our world.

One of the things I've never understood is how people can be so closed to the possibility that they might not be as aware and as enlightened as they thought ... I learned the value of being open to what life offers from the first cup of sweet tea I shared at my friend's house, through to the many meals I've shared with a wide diversity of human cultures ... "there are things that you just don't understand ..." is anything but an enlightened and open statement - it is a statement of fear and ignorance, and it often comes from those who like to think of themselves othewise ...

Education is about experience and relationship and taking chances ... Mortenson learned one cup of tea at a time that you can actually bring real and tangible change to the world ... it's a lesson we ALL would do well to heed and follow, and thankfully many have and do and will ... Peace is achievable and attainable - and education is the only viable path.

Thanks Mr. Mortenson, for turning your failure into such an astounding success, and for bringing all of us along on the journey !!!

I'll never look at a cup of tea in the same way again !!

Inshallah!!!

Music to Accompany the Book Review story ...

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Okay, I couldn't post the above story without supplying the music that played such a central role to the story of my High School friend and his dad ... EVERY time I hear this song I can picture his dad dancing around the living room of thier house - the MUSIC BLARING at FULL volume !!!!!!!

It was AWESOME !!

Enjoy !



Saturday, February 06, 2010

MY Olympic Protest ...

I seriously can NOT believe that the International Olympic Committee is asking the Aussies to remove a Boxing Roo flag from the balconies of the Athletes' Village in Vancouver (click to read the current CBC story) ... the reason cited is that the symbol is a TRADEMARKED symbol and is therefore in-eligible to be displayed at an Olympic Venue ...

Really???

Between VANOC and the IOC the grip they have on reality is a fleeting thing ... the marketing juggarnaut has been nothing short of OBSCENE, and then there is the whole "made in China" fiasco that includes the marketing of Made in China "authentic" Cowichan wool sweaters available at HBC locations everywhere ...

I for one am SICK of the whole Olympic Hype. I am interested in the success of Minnedosa's Kyle Parrot who is appearing in FOUR speed skating events ... and I hope our athletes do well, but as for VANOC and the IOC - I say a pox on all their houses ... they've lost sight of what the Olympics are supposed to be about ...

It's about the competition ... the whole higher, stronger, faster, further bit ... but the Olympics today are about profit, marketing and control ... I yearn for the days of Eddie the Eagle Edwards, and the Jamaican Bobsledding team that showed us what the Olympics are supposed to about ... unfortunately, the rules have been changed and the standards have been set and the joy of competiting has been replaced by the marketing juggarnaut's desire to squeeze every last penny out of the events ...

So, to the Aussies who in thier own indomitable way have reminded us what's important - I say "Cheers Mate !" ... I wish there was an outlet in Brandon that sold Aussie flags bearing the boxing Roo - I for one would proudly hang it in front of my house and wear it as my personal protest against what the Olympics have become ... I'm all for competition and doing the best you can ... sadly though, our modern world is about being the best, the first and winning gold at all cost ... Thankfully there are still voices out there who remember what the Olympic Spirit is !!!

Ms. H. and the Torch ...

When the Torch made its way through Brandon Ms. H and her friend went to the events at the Keystone Centre and had her picture taken with one of the torches used in the run ... while I have issues with the ENORMOUS expense that were involved in moving the torch from sea to sea to sea across Canada, and I delight in the fact that the whole torch relay is a legacy from Hitler's Olympic Games AND I have issues with many things related to the games in Vancouver, (not least of which is the treatment of the downtown east side of Vancouver and the Mr Harper's Holiday Break from Parliament) ... I am looking forward to watching Kyle Parrot (who I coached in soccer some years ago) compete in speeding skating, and I AM proud Ms. H got this picture taken ...

Maybe one day we'll actually realize the words at the bottom of the pic and build a better Canada that treats ALL people with justice and fairness and we spend our resources on important things like food, shelter and healthcare ...

Maybe one day ...