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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