Prairie Preacher

This week's theme ...

2012-01-28T09:52:00.002-05:00

Several times this week I've found myself in conversations about prayer.

On Thursday night, our Remit Study group discussed the 20 Articles of Faith of the United Church and actually spent some time focused on the Article of Faith "On Prayer."

We discussed the calming effect of prayer, the power it has to offer hope, and the impact it has on our lives whether we're conscious of it or not.

Today when I signed into Facebook I found a prayer request from my cousin, asking for prayers for a friend of her's who is entering hospice and preparing to die from breast cancer ... it's a hard request to read and consider, and I have no doubt it is even harder to make. Yet, I have no qualms offering prayers for a too young woman I have never met, and for her circle of family and friends in this difficult time.

As I replied to the posting I got thinking about the place and power of prayer in our lives and our world, and the many ways in which prayer has left a legacy in my faith journey.

I thought about the Christmas Eve in Bella Coola when we gathered in prayer to pray for a community in the Southern US where a family had experienced a housefire and several little boys had tragically perished ... as we prayed on the remote west coast I would later learn that community prayed for us ... that year, we had two of our members dying of cancer (one, a young mom, would be gone before January rolled into February), and we had a community member home from the burn unit in Vancouver to spend the holidays with their family.

The journey home for that recovering burn victim was one of prayer too ... when his accident happened, I immediately put a prayer request out on the old ECUNET internet system that we used extensively at the time. I quickly received replies from ALL over the world. I remember one coming from a research station at the South Pole, and another from a small Norwegian village. It was TRULY remarkable to consider how many prayers were offered from ALL over the world - such is the strength of the digital mediums we have around us.

I had printed and shared each of the prayers as they came with the family, and they in turn read them over and over and over to their beloved husband, father, grandfather and friend ... in time, he himself would say tht his recovery was BECAUSE of the prayers from his family, his friends, his community and from countless strangers around the world who took time to pray and care.

Today, this young woman may be beyond a recovery of her physical body, but the gift of prayer offers much for those who accompany her on this journey. Prayer brings peace. Prayer brings comfort. Prayer brings strength and courage. And most of all, prayer brings the knowledge that we are never alone. In the moment when we are remembered in prayer, we are connected with the circle of humanity who care for and care about us, and we are reminded of our connection with God.

Prayer is a gift ... and this week I've been reminded of what a marvelous gift it is.

Random thoughts on a Thursday morning ....

2012-01-26T09:57:00.003-05:00

From the "Things to make you go hmmmm ..." department:

- how do you know when Blue Cheese has gone bad?

- can sour cream really go bad?

- would the people who flip me the bird and tell me to 'f--- off!!' in front of my house when they are SPEEDING, come to Church and say the same thing to my face?

- why is EVERYONE getting tatoos and piercings to express their individuality?

- who was the first person to figure out how to successfully MAKE coffee and tea? (and WHY??)

- how have computers saved us time? and paper? and stress? (SERIOUSLY !!??)

- why do we spend so much time, energy and money to consult 'experts' from outside only to have them arrive and tell us what we ALREADY know? What ever happened to good old common sense?

- why do we worship and diefy celebrities, movie actors, and sports stars, only to react so harshly when they start to believe the press and act badly?

- why do we seek solace in shopping and rampant consumerism only to marvel at reality shows like "Hoarders" and "Storage Wars" where people are overwhelmed by too much stuff ?

Teetering on the Edge ...

2012-01-24T11:40:00.003-05:00

I typed the words "teetering on the edge" into a search engine and the first image that popped up was this one - from an article about a three foot wide wooden "road" being built in the Hunan province of China.

How apt? I thought ... it embraces much of what I have been thinking and reflecting lately.

The other day I read the article about the strike/lock out at the Caterpillar locomotive plant in London Ontario and how the corporation is asking workers to take a 50% reduction in wages and a roll back in benefits while the company itself is posting record profits, and has for the last few years been expanding.

The management has locked the workers out and has threatened to move the jobs south if the workers don't take the offer ... once again, good paying Canadian jobs are about to simply disappear so that companies can protect their bottom line and continue to ensure profits for the shareholders.

As I read these accounts - and there have been and continue to be many of them in our media, I can't help but wonder when we will reach the tipping point as a nation where there are two classes of people - the investors (the wealthy) and the part-time workers (the poor), with almost no one in between.

In recent days I've had within my circle of friends and family news of losing a job with limited and challenging prospects for the future, struggles to find affordable and adequate housing in a frightening market that is completely out of control, and the day to day struggles just to make ends meet and get through the day ... Taking a step back and reading the various media sources I consult on a regular basis, I hear these same concerns voiced across North America as people are finding themselves umemployed, over extended and facing a bleak future - ALL the while, our politicans and our pundits tell us the economy is rebounding and recovering.

Really?? The economy is recovering?? For WHO??

The only people who seem to be benefitting and enjoying a recovering economy are the wealthy and the investors who are happy that thier various portfolios are rebounding and posting profits. But for the workers who are suddenly out of jobs, and facing unemployment or WORSE, employment in part-time jobs with NO benefits, there is no solace, and no peace.

We may have thousands of NEW jobs, but every indication would tell us that those new jobs are a pale shadow of what they are replacing.

Where there were once good paying jobs with benefits and future in the many factories and plants across our country, now there are lower paying jobs with limited to no benefits and absolutely NO long term security. The owners of the plants are forever threatening to move these jobs off shore where cheaper workforces with eagerly take on the tasks of building the bits and pieces our consumerist culture erroneously values.

I've observed before that one is hard pressed to find domestically produced products and items, and I've wondered what the long term effects of this will be ... I fear we're standing on the brink of not only realizing, but experiencing the profound and devestating effects of this long term obsession with shopping, shopping, and shopping.

Cheaper is not necessarily better, and cheaper may have a HUGE long term effect beyond the few extra coins in our pockets at the end of the transaction.

Ballooning credit.

Limited job prospect.

Migrating business ventures.

Economic devestation.

The list goes on and on ... as I reflect on this, I think of an observation in one of the books on our global food supply that noted the $1.99 burger at the local fast food joint may be subsidized by various levels of Government through a HUGE diversity of programmes and public policies. If memory serves, the author suggested that that cheap two dollar burger may be costing the tax payers upwards of ten dollars when we factor in the subsidizes from field to table - all in the name of a cheap burger with questionable nurtitional and culinary value.

What if we stopped living the consumerist lifestyle that values cheap over quality?

What if we put people before profits?

What if we lived our lives mindful of what our the many effects our decision in the grocery store has from field to table?

What if we stopped valuing shopping over everything else, and instead began to address the hungry ache that permeates our lives and our culture?

What if we finally recognized that our economic system is not just broken, it is an utter disaster that is destroying communities, families and the lives of individuals?

What if we finally opened our eyes to the simple fact we are teetering over the brink, and if we don't rethink things SOON, we will plunge into an abyss from which recover may be extremely difficult if not impossible???

Regardless of what President Bush said after 9/11 - shopping and the consumerist lifestyle will not save us ... it will only help to drive us further into a bankruptcy of mind, body, spirit and economics that will leave us impoverished in ways that are simply unimaginable ...

It's time for the Church to step up and reclaim the voice that prophets like Bill Phipps and Walter Brueggemann have offered, and instead of whispering in the sanctuary, we need to shout it from the roof tops ... our society is broken ... it's time to fix it and bring the transformative healing that is part of our genetic material as the Body of Christ !!

With a gust of wind ...

2012-01-23T16:19:00.000-05:00

The other day I went out to fill the bird feeders on the back deck and was amazed at the myriad of fragile bird prints in the freshly fallen snow. The tiny tree toed prints criss crossed the deck in around the spilled seed, leaving a tenuous reminder of who had been visiting the feeders.

I tried not to disturb them too much as I filled the feeders with more seed, then I started to examine the intricate little markings and realized the metaphor they offered ...

It has been a little over a year since Mom died ... and it will soon be a year since I lost my brother Scott. Along the way, I said my farewells to three other important friends in my life, and was left reeling at the sorrow and sadness that accompanied these successive passings.

On an intellectual and professional level I am very familiar and well versed in the many paths of grief. This left me in the position of being able to explain and understand what I was experiencing, but being unable to do much about it ... thankfully I have found support from a number of caring and wonderful people who have walked this journey with me as friend and family.

Yet, as I stood and looked at the tiny fragile prints in the newly fallen snow, I realized how much life is like them ...

One good gust of wind and they are altered or changed ... they are a thing of beauty, but their beauty comes from their fragility ... they leave an impression but can be gone in a breath ...

We want to leave an impression with our existence. I have numerous readings that celebrate this and offer suggestions on how to leave positive impressions on the people around us. But the harsh reality of our world says even the most profound impression is fleeting ...

We may touch the lives of our community, our family, our circle of friends ... but in a few years soon that impression, like the tiny foot prints in the snow, is gone and is nothing more than a vague memory ...

Today as I look out on my back deck. now wet and bare from the rain and warm temperatures, I can see that the snow and the prints are long gone ... yet, they remain with me as part of my memory.

Today I am reminded that life is a precious gift that is truly beautiful BECAUSE of its fragility, and because of that, we should and we MUST savour that fragile gift everyday, because we never know when a gust of wind might come and forever alter it ...

Mementos ... a reminder of what is really important ...

2011-12-31T12:14:00.002-05:00

I'm becoming increasingly cynical about our culture and society lately ... As I drive to and from the larger urban centres I can't help but wonder (bordering on a rant) why we (speaking collectively) keep building such MASSIVE houses.

I honestly wonder what the appeal of having a 4000+ sqr ft home really is ... I can barely keep up keeping my little 1900 sqr foot house clean ... twice the space makes me wonder what these people do to have that kind of time ... or income to hire cleaning services ...

Really though ... when will the realization be made that ALL of this consumerism is a dead end street move beyond the Occupy Movement and the few voices that stand on the margins lamenting what we as a society and culture have lost?? When will people wake up to realize that shopping will never ease the ache within, and bigger and better just means running on a treadmill that has no end ... as I ponder this I can't help but picture George Jetson on the treadmill that he and Astro hop on at the end of the Jetson's ... once you buy into the consumerist model of "shop, shop, shop" you can't hop off until it destroys you. And the rise of shows about consumers overwhelmed by debt and spending combined with the economic meltdown in our Southern Neighbour a few short months ago, would suggest that destruction is already being felt ...

This Holiday Season, what I've come to appreciate is the value of the intangible things in our lives ... our family ... our relationships ... and the connectedness to things that money can not buy.

The picture above is the inscription in a tiny black leather bound Bible that I found amongst the detritus and mementos from my Grandparents' house that my Aunt had put out on Boxing Day for the family to choose from ... for the last few years the various items had been stored in boxes in a basement, and my Aunt and her family decided the time had come to clean some of the stuff out and let us chose our mementos and tokens to remember Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle Drake ...

Oh what a trip down memory lane it was ... pictures and wall hangings invoked recollections about where in the house they once stood ... glasses and mugs called to mind family gatherings and favourite beverages (one set of glasses had me laughing at the recollection of Uncle Drake enjoying his 'garden cocktail and rum' at Work Day, or Christmas, or Thanksgiving ...) ... and over and over the comment was made - "I remember this ..." and a story would follow.

For a brief shimmering moment, Grandma and Grandpa were there ... smiling and joining in the fun as we were once again at HOME at 58 Austin Drive, even if we were still very much standing in a basement in New Hamburg !!

Such are the power of our memories and the mementos that connect that thread of thought and recollection that we might so easily overlook in our busy consumerist lifestyle ...

What I've come to realize lately, is that one can be overwhelmed with stuff, and need to build bigger shelves, larger rooms, and even rent locker facilities to tuck it ALL away ... but in the process, you lose touch with what it is, and you no longer are able to use nor appreciate it. The extreme of this collecting is the folks we see on the Hoarder shows who are utterly and totally overwhelmed by their "STUFF" and no longer can function ...

Alas, our culture though has become oriented to this acquisition cycle that sees people shopping and collecting and amassing huge amounts of stuff ... the newest and the best ... the biggest and the brightest ... over and over we measure the value of our existence, not by the relationships we have and value, but by the standards of how much, how big, how many and how valuable our STUFF is ...

Fortunately, there runs underneath all of this a current calling on us to simplify our lives and to declutter our world. We don't need to have the biggest house, the fastest car, the most up to date tv or computer ... instead we can and should find our contentment with a simple word: ENOUGH.

Having a warm comfortable bed is enough.
Having food to eat and share is enough.
Having a safe place to sit and enjoy the circle of family and friends is enough.
Having adequate clothing that is comfortable and clean is enough.

Over and over the self-help gurus are challenging us to realize a simple truth that is ALL around us if we simply dare to look.

We don't have to opt into the rat race of buying, shopping and collecting ... instead we can opt out and look back at the simpler times when having enough was a the ULTIMATE goal.

My Grandparents' home was never huge. But it was always comfortable.
Grandma and Grandpa always had enough to look after all of us and any visitors who came along, but they also lived very simply. There was little extravagance in their lives or in their home, but there was ALWAYS quality. Quality in the food consumed, in the furniture and household goods used, and in the clothing worn. But they never flaunted, nor did they live to excess ... they epitomized the very word ENOUGH.

There is a lesson there ... one that we've lost as a culture.

We've come to think that it is the normative way of living, to have a lifestyle that EXCEEDS that of our parents. Maybe, the lesson is to seek a lifestyle that matches that of our parents and grandparents.

My grandparents lived well ... they owned a car, but often walked ... they owned a single tv, but usually spent time reading ... they owned a single black phone hanging on the wall, but usually communicated by face to face visits and hand written letters ... they owned a house with lots of space, but never filled with with clutter and stored items ... they owned a yard and had gardens producing flowers, vegetables, and fruit that was used to pass on joy and delight to others ...

My Grandparents valued the good things in life ... but never let those things supersede their family and the wonderful relationships that were nurtured over time between us ... and maybe that's the greatest lesson they have left for us: that we should and must value each other more than any of the mementos, items and things that clutter our lives with stuff.

When I look at some of the things I've gained from mom's house, and from that of my grandparents' what I see is not their momentary value, but rather the memories that lie behind it ... the Irish coins from Grandpa remind me of his War stories about the places he'd been and the sights he'd seen ... the old green fountain pen of Grandma's reminds me of the letters she wrote and the hours spent poking through her brown writing desk in the corner of the living room ... and the celery vases and other items from Mom's remind me of how Mom loved to buy beautiful things to pass on to others in the hopes they would share her appreciation of them ... but over and over, I realize that ALL of these things are just stuff. The value is within me, in the stories and memories and recollections that come to mind when I see and touch those items ...

In 50 or 100 years, the true value of the stuff will be gone when no one is left to tell the stories. The stories, crafted from memories and recollections of what was, are what are truly important, and these stories will never be held within massive houses, or distant storage lockers, and these stories will never be found in a shopping mall, or at the big block store's latest sales. Instead these stories are found when we nurture and refresh the bonds of relationships that exist within and between us as family and friends.

One day, I truly hope our society and our culture will finally realize the foolishness of our consumerist ways, and take a step back physically, economically, spiritually and emotionally ...

I'm a TRUE Canadian ...

2011-12-28T22:16:00.002-05:00

NOT once, but TWICE over the holiday shopping I got clobbered by someone pushing a shopping cart and BOTH times I said "Oh, I'm sorry!" in response.

To recap: THEY clobbered ME, and I apologized !!!!

I am SUCH a true Canadian!! It's a Canadian thing to say "Sorry" - and when someone hits you with a cart it's almost force of habit (though, it would appear this is a Canadianism that is waning - but that's a reflection for another day).

Looking back, I have to marvel that I did it not just once, but TWICE !!!

Only in Canada they say!!

Reflection on the year that has been ...

2011-12-28T12:15:00.002-05:00

It was a year ago that Scott called first thing in the morning and said "Mom's coming home ..." I headed off to Stratford and with the help of our Aunt and cousins, Scott and I got home and settled back where she wanted to be ... we got her bed made, laundry taken care of and her meds readied ... She wasn't happy, but she was home ...

Less than two weeks later Scott would again phone first thing in the morning to tell me Mom was gone ... she had slipped away in her sleep that morning ...

Three weeks after that I made a late night drive after being called by one of his friends who said, "We haven't heard from Scottie since Monday ... and the snow at the house isn't shovelled ... something's wrong ..."

Wrong indeed.

In a little over a month I moved from the wonder of having a Christmas at home in Ontario for the first in over 20 years, to the profound sadness of standing in the funeral chapel twice in three weeks to say good bye to my Mother and my only sibling ... in days my family dwindled ...

Looking back, I still struggle to put into words the wash of feelings that continue to ebb and flow through my being ... some days are relatively easy to move through and are punctuated with joy and laughter ... other days drag on with the burdens of memory and sadness ... overarching all of it is a sense of relief that the physical suffering both Mom and Scott endured in recent years has come to an end, and whatever lies beyond this life is a place free of sadness, sorrow and the things that burdened them.

Words can not describe how much I miss them ... I still want to pick up the phone and call Mom to tell her what the kids have been up to, or to ask her a question about something ... and as I clear through the things from the house I wish I could ask her about the history of this item or that one ... and then there are the pictures, the cards, the new paper clippings and the countless other mementoes Mom put aside for a reason ... WHAT REASON??? Many of them are a mystery to me ... and in that moment I want to ask her ...

It's been a hard year ... but it's been a rewarding year in that through my cleaning and sorting of Mom and Scott's stuff, I've learned a lot about both of them and the challenges they faced in their lives ... I've learned how much Mom and Dad loved each other (the notes and cards exchanged by them in their marriage are legion) ... I've learned how hard it was for Mom to get ANYTHING from the OPP and the various levels of Government following Dad's death on duty ... and I've learned how incredibly difficult Scott's battle for adequate compensation was following his truck accident in the early 90's ... admittedly, he didn't help himself at times, but having read through the documentation of his physical injuries I can't help but wonder if he sustained for more injuries to his person than just the aches and pains of his bones and joints ... given the dent I remember seeing in the ROOF of the truck after the accident I think it's a given that he took a debilitating WHACK on the head too ...

As I read through the bits and pieces of their lives, I'm thankful that they were and will continue to be part of my life, I'm thankful that my kids got to know them both better in the six months after our move to Ontario, and I am very thankful that they are no longer burdened by the many hassles and aggravations that were so much a part of the last couple of decades of their lives.

I miss them ... but I take solace that they are at peace ...

This Christmas I approached the season with some hesitation and reluctance ... I knew that it would be a tough time emotionally, but I was looking forward to gathering with my extended family for a good reason. Our Boxing Day gathering, along with the traditional phone calls from those family members in the diaspora, brought a soothing balm to my soul ... I may have lost Mom and Scott, and then in the subsequent weeks Mr Baumbach Indigo and my friend and Mentor Rev. Don ... but I still have a strong circle of family and friends who have blessed me with strength and care through the last few months ...

Looking back, it's been a tough year, but a good year ...

Twenty Comments about God's Love for Goths ...

2011-12-27T20:56:00.002-05:00

It will soon be the 6th Anniversary of the fire that destroyed the Building housing the congregation of Minnedosa United Church. A new building has replaced the old, but the congregation has never been allowed to truly heal ...

I marvel at how prophetic the advice received by an American pastor I contacted after reading his book about a Church fire he experienced truly was ... he cautioned that the fire would, if handled poorly, be the least of the problems the congregation and I faced ... hmmm, six years on I look back and see the painful truth in those words - words offered in love and care and faith ... words that the leadership waved aside and ignored.

In 2007, in response to an internet site that claimed God condemns and hate those with Goth leanings, I offered a reflection on what I believe in this regard. This posting (found here) continues to generate responses from people who follow the links from that hate-filled (and unfaithful site) through to my reflection. This past week I discovered the TWENTIETH comment offered. The comment (copied at the bottom of this posting) reminds us that issues of faith are seldom easy, and challenge us to grow past the status quo.

Yearning for things that are comfortable and familiar is not in itself a bad thing, but when we stand in a place of trauma we need to embrace the fragments of the comfortable while being open to the dynamic change that is possible when we experience the transformation faith promises. God calls us to much more than we can imagine ... in Minnedosa six years ago, we were offered the opportunity to cast aside the past and embrace the future ... but anger settled in, and the response within the community was often not that different from the nonsense sputtered by web pages that claim that God hates Goths or anyone else who is different than the writer. In the case of Minnedosa, the hatred was masked with a civil smile and couched in the bureacracy of the Institutional Church ... the end result remains the same - some are acceptable and accepted, while others are rejected and discarded ... In both cases though, God weeps and trusts in the work of the Spirit to continue to transform our world despite the best efforts of humanity to the contrary.

Over and over, I continue to marvel at the truth held in the simple statement: "With God ALL things are possible."

Comments like the one that follows reminds me to trust in God not in human creations like the Church ... thankfully, the Gospel calls us to embrace all, not just a select few. Regretably, this sentiment is too often forgotten in the Church ...

I do not consider myself emo but many if fellow students call me emo. I am a strong Christian. I feel that when many people who claim Christianity don't reach out to the other gothic and emo kids they are not dong there duty to share the love of God. Infact most "Suburban Gangsters" and "normal kids" make fun of me for not listening to Eminem or Lil Wayne. These kids normally cka Christianity. I try to explain that I don't worship Satan, cut myself, or any of that stuff. I just don't like dressing Un neon colors and listening to Hip-Hop. I'm glad that a minister (other than my dad) thinks I'm (not) just going to hell. And GOD BLESS YOU REV.

Bah Humbug ...

2011-12-13T10:09:00.004-05:00

Right now I find myself struggling with the Season and all that it represents ... some days I really don't want to get out of bed, and even on my good days I'm not really looking forward to Christmas and all that it brings ...

I am looking forward to having all three kids here, and I am looking forward to gathering with my extended family/clan for something OTHER than a Funeral ... but I enter the Holiday Season acutely feeling the absence of Mom and Scott ... and that colours everything I do, think and feel.

I am feeling particularly Scrooge like ...

What bothers me though is the response I often get to admitting that I am not feeling very Christmasy.

"Oh why not? It's a great time of the year ..." is met with a deep sigh and a struggle to unload the sorrow I feel within.

"But it's Christmas. No one should be sad at Christmas ..." brings forth the urge to say that MANY people, myself included really don't like the Holidays and this year is even more burdensome.

Overarching this I have to wonder why people feel so insistent that the Holidays MUST be joyous and happy ... Even at the best of times I have never really enjoyed Christmas and have struggled to throw on a happy face ... this year at least I can stumble into the Season with those around me knowing and ACCEPTING that it will be a difficult journey for me, and that makes this more bearable.

This year, instead of wishing folks a facetious "Merry Christmas", I for one, will unapologetically be amongst those who stand in the deep darkness and know in time the words of the ancient prophet will come to pass, and we will once again find ourselves bathed in light ...

... and that is perfectly acceptable!

Pondering life behind the snow blower ...

2011-11-30T12:30:00.003-05:00

I took another step down the road to being a true blooded Canadian today:

For the first time I cleared snow with a snow blower!! Oh sure, I've cleared snow with a tractor, an atv, a THOUSAND shovels, but this year thanks to the generous gift of a friend, I have a snow blower to clear our driveway !!! And today after the dump of cold, very WET white stuff, I decided it would be a good day to do a trial run to figure out how to work the beast!!

It went well ... it took a little over an hour, but I got the drive way and the back yard parking areas cleared without too much difficulty or stress. AND, I had some fun along the way.

But like other times in my life when I've used power equipment, I had time to think about things as I walked along behind the blower.

Today I was thinking about how incredibly thin skinned people in the Church often are, and how over the top serious they can be ... I was thinking about a tongue in cheek reply I put on the facebook posting of a colleague and friend.

Gord (a fellow blogger) had posted a link that cited the "I am Christian, unless you're gay" an article I cited here previously, and an article I WHOLEHEARTEDLY endorse as an eloquent and wise reflection on the struggle the Church often has when it comes to differences.

My comment on Gord's facebook page was asking (facetiously) if Gord had taken an unexpected and slightly irrational sharp turn to the right ... I know Gord ... I respect God ... and Gord, like me is an unabashed liberal in his theology, and inclusive in his ministry. I was offering a humour comment about the TITLE of the article, not offering a comment about Gord ... or at least that's how I intended it.

In a subsequent comment, another colleague in Ministry replied with a fairly involved statement about the article and its intrinsic value and blah ... blah ... blah ...

I hold no offense toward the other poster. His answer IS right ... but it is also typical of how folks throughout the United Church respond to things.

To be blunt - WE'VE LOST OUR SENSE OF HUMOUR !!!!!

We take EVERYTHING so seriously it is at times truly frightening.

We no longer encourage or even welcome humour in the Courts of the Church. I know of instances when a light hearted comment or a joke was ruled out of order in Presbytery meetings because it was deemed inappropriate.

The bottom line seems to be that we've moved away from spontaneous humour and laughter that it causes us PAIN when it actually happens.

Yet, there is EVERY spiritual indication that laughter is a gift from God, and that not only did Jesus have a sense of humour, his disciples did too. (does anyone else recall the introduction of Jesus to Nathanael in the Gospel of John? How can the comment "can anything good come out of Nazareth?" be taken as anything BUT a humourous quip?!?!?!?!)

Yet in the modern Church we've abandoned our funny bone and become painfully serious just when the world needs the gift of Holy Laughter.

I guess that's why I truly value the contribution of friends like Blake over at The Laughing Pastor, and others who have maintained a sense of humour in the face of a world gone mad.

The ability to stand and smile, and even laugh is truly a gift from God. The incredible feeling of waves of laughter passing over our person is truly Holy. Yet, when I look around the Church I seldom see people who reflect that gift of JOY.

Churches are often filled with dour serious people who look angry and frustrated. Yet we purport to be a place overflowing with Grace and Joy.

Can no one else see that disconnect??

I've marvelled at the number of colleagues I've met along the way who rarely crack a smile and who are pharisaic in their adherence to the rules, regulations and polity of the Church, and overwhelm any expression of joy with frowns and scowls.

I can name people who seem to offer smiles only when their personal egos are being stroked by the suffering of another ... they are almost like Disney villains who smile when they are about to launch their devious plans ...

I can't help but wonder if this is even remotely faithful?

How can we deny joy in the face of a God who has given us SO much, and who pours out blessings, Grace, and an abundance of LIFE???

I for one think there is amazing and profound wisdom in the comment by George Carlin's character Cardinal Glick in the movie Dogma. When Glick introduces the figure of Buddy Christ (pictured above), he says "Jesus didn't come to give us the heebie jeebies". To that ALL I can offer is a hearty AMEN !!!!

Jesus came to offer Love, Compassion, Care, Grace and Life in ABUNDANCE. The heebie jeebies are a human creation, not one from God ... it's time to return to our roots, so too speak, and reclaim the gift of joy and laughter in the Church and celebrate it !!!

If we are truly a child of God frowns and scowls have no place on our faces !!!

It's time to lighten up and truly dance with JOY !!

(Oh, and for the record - I DO have a Buddy Christ in my office, along with the infamous Bobble-headed Jesus AND a Bobble-headed Buddy Christ too !!! It's ALL about the fun!!)

Lessons from Looking Back ...

2011-11-30T08:38:00.004-05:00

It's funny (and sad) how many people in the Church fear technology and fail to see the potential it offers. And yet, if we look back in Church history we know that the Protestant Reformation would never have happened had it not been for the technology of the printing press that allowed for the wide spread dissemination of the writings and reflections of the Reformers like Luther and Calvin who forever changed the Church.

I can remember when I started in ministry in Bella Coola BC seeing the potential of the Internet for communication and committee work. I suggested that we use the Ecunet forum that almost ALL of us in the Presbytery were members of, to conduct a committee meeting. To my thinking the confidential bulletin board format of the Ecunet was a perfect means to 'meet' as a committee. The four of us who were members could each sign in from our respective corners and we could have our discussions online, thereby saving THOUSANDS of dollars in travel costs that would be needed to hold face to face meetings.

I was ridiculed and the idea was soundly rejected. The spending of travel money was opted for instead and what could have cost us a few dozen dollars instead cost THOUSANDS and took months longer than needed.

Today most of our Church business is conducted by email. On a local level our Council and Committees do much of their communication via email, and we have had no less than two Council 'meetings' via emails.

When I worked for the Federal Government in Brandon we regularly held online consultations and workshops via a wide range of technologies and gizmos.

And for the last half a decade I've maintained this and other blogs as a means of Church outreach. Today though, as I snapped the picture above with my iPhone, I couldn't help but think about the amazing changes that I've witnessed even in the last five years when it comes to our online communicating.

In the past when I wanted to post a picture here I had to pull out my camera, tether it to the computer via a cumbersome cord, wait for the camera and the computer to start talking, then download the picture to the computer, then upload the picture from the computer to the web page and HOPE everything went according to Hoyle.

Today I point my cell phone camera, snap the picture then with the touch of a couple of buttons I have sent my picture to my computer. The next step is to simply load the picture to the webpage and within minutes I can post a picture of what is happening around me. I know there is a way to do it DIRECTLY from my camera to the blog much like Facebook, but so far I haven't explored the technology ... one day I will though !!

What struck me though, was the amazing possibilities that this technology has for The Church, and yet in many corners people approach this technology with fear and apprehension. The first three years of blogging was met would outright opposition by folks within the Church and even inspired the Presbytery where I served to propose a BAN on Blogs by Church Ministers. The fear was we might make people uncomfortable, or reveal some deeply hidden secret and violate the sanctity of the minister-congregational relationship.

Yet, at a National Level we have staff who are acting as consultants and teachers to show us how to better use the many modern technologies as a means of outreach and evangelism.

The profound disconnect is striking.

On one hand, people get the new technology, and like our forefathers see the potential of sharing the Good News. While on the other hand, others fear change and see in the technology uncontrollable change and want to shut it down ... it makes me realize that today, those of us who have pioneered the use of Blogs, and Social Media as a means of communication within the Church are very much like Luther standing on the steps of Wittenburg nailing his 95 questions to the door of the Cathedral.

Some will and do embrace change, while others fear change. Hopefully, we will have an experience like Luther that sees powerful allies stepping up and holding back the violent backlash that comes when people are scared by something they fail to understand.

Today taking a simple picture of the snow outside my window and choosing to post it here, I realized that my actions are not in and of themselves all that remarkable, but in the context of The Church as it struggles in the opening years of the 21st Century, my actions are part of a greater revolution (or to be theologically appropriate a REFORMATION) that will and is profoundly changing how we function as Church, and how we get the Word out to others.

In 20 years of ministry the Church has made leaps and bounds technologically, and I for one am delighted to be able to say that I have tried to stay current and ride this amazing wave of change as it sweeps through our communities and our world.

The Internet and the many new media formats it offers are not things the Church should fear, but rather they are tools the Church MUST embrace if it is to continue to proclaim and share the Good News!!

Some reading to enrich your heart and soul ...

2011-11-28T16:21:00.002-05:00

I've been doing a fair bit of reading articles and postings online lately, and thought it would be worth sharing some of them here ... so here we go:

An elqoquent and powerful statement about living our faith:

I'm Christian, unless you're gay.

A very good and apt commentary about the recent Black Friday happenings:

Pepper Spray Cop Begets Pepper Spray Shoppers.

And of course there is the photoshop versions of the Pepper Spraying Cop:

Pepper Spraying Cop.

And, there is the whole issue of our consumerism running wild:

Will Shopping Save Us?

Now that I've mentioned the Occupy Movement, here's an article about the impact it has had:

How Occupy is Transforming the National Conversation.

And I've saved the BEST for last. Here is a Baptist Pastor's reflection on the role the Church SHOULD be playing in the Occupy Movement. Going straight to the source, he hits the nail smack on the head !!! Thanks to Rev. Bess for this:

Would Jesus Join the Occupy Movement?

Happy Reading !!!

Making a difference in our world ...

2011-11-28T15:48:00.002-05:00

After a three year absence from my life, it is BACK !!!

I just got an order off to the Raising the Roof folks to participate in their annual Toque Campaign. This year the toques come in a lovely red and beige, and will be sold here in Flesherton to help support a youth homelessness programme in either Stratford or the Kitchener Waterloo area!!

We will have them available at the Church office, or at our Indoor Market-Bazaar for the affordable price of $10.

I have no doubt that the Toque Campaign will achieve the same startling success as our ongoing sales of Fair Trade products. Along with the Pastoral Charge cookbooks, we have a wide variety of gift items that carry a social conscience and involvement along with their affordable price.

To revisit our 2009 posting (and the various links to Raising the Roof) click here

Scottie

2011-11-20T00:02:00.002-05:00

Scott Edwin Ankenmann
November 20th 1961
to
February 3rd 2011
A brother,
an uncle,
a nephew,
a cousin,
a friend,
a pain in the ass (sometimes),
and
one helluva guy.
Love him or hate him,
you never forgot him.

Rest in Peace Scott,
and Happy Birthday wherever you are!!

Miss you bro !!!

The 50th that should have been ...

2011-11-20T00:01:00.001-05:00

Happy Birthday Big Brother ... today you would be turning 50, and my plan was to take you out for dinner, a few drinks, and just a helluva good time.

But life is what happens when we're busy making other plans.

As it turned out, you never made it to the big 5-0, and we'll never get to crack that 1947 bottle of Crown Royal to toast Mom and Dad and Mr Baumbach and Uncle Drake, and ALL the beloved people who helped make us into the men we are and were ... one day I'll crack that bottle and raise it in a toast to you and to all you meant to me as my big brother.

To say that I miss you would be an understatement.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of you and your damned grin.

And when a tear pools in the corner of my eye I hear you ... I hear your voice saying "Oh my gawd ... 'pfffft' ... just give your head a shake." Then you laugh ...

I miss your laugh.
I miss your teasing.
I miss you ...

So, with a heavy heart I wish you a Happy Birthday any way. You may not be here to enjoy it, but I will remember you.

Peace.

Time ...

2011-11-19T13:52:00.003-05:00

I'll admit to watching the Hoarding shows on tv ... I watch them and give thanks that as bad as things are in my life, they are not as bad as what I'm watching ...

I do however understand the strange world that hoarders inhabit a little better now.

My brother and I used to tease Mom that she could be the star of an episode of Hoarders. Her response was to get angry and tell us to 'shut up'. There is unfortunately an element of truth to our teasing, and I honestly believe that Mom would have made Hoarders had it not been for Scott living in the house and keeping things clear in many of the living spaces.

Admittedly, Scott had his own hoarder like tendancies ... the stacks and stacks and stacks of "Old Auto" magazine were the most obvious trait that betrayed his hoarding ... but as I've dug into dressers, closets and other nooks and crannies at Mom's my discoveries have left me laughing and shaking my head - sometimes simultaneously.

How many tea cups, platters and celery vases does one person really need?

Is keeping EVERY note, letter and card really necessary?

And, I don't think you have to keep your financial records forever ...

But in amongst the clutter were (and remain) treasures waiting to be recovered ... I've found toys and books from my childhood, I've lost track of the coins and other money I've found tucked here and there, and I've continued to discover beautiful antiques and collectibles that are often hidden in plain sight ...

As I've sorted and cleaned and decluttered, I've also struggled with the very issues that often come up in episode after episode of Hoarders (and the other related shows).

How do you decide what to keep and what to get rid of?

How do you know what is junk and what might be valuable?

and on and on it goes ... the biggest challenge I encounter though is the waffling back and forth between keeping everything, and just walking away and letting go of everything ... at times it is paralyzing. I understand why people end up being overwhelmed with STUFF after losing a loved one, or having a traumatic event.

Some days I want to hold on to everything, while other days find me wanting to load everything from the house and just dump it ... it would be easier to do nothing then to face the emotional roller coaster of sifting through memories and mementoes of what was, and has been lost ... over and over I find something that takes me back and brings a smile and tears ... it is both inevitable and difficult, and it is what I have to face.

For the moment, even though I joke about it, I have no real desire to be on a future episode of Hoarders ... I will in time make my way through the stuff that has crammed Mom's house, and I will deal with the treasures and the junk.

When I think about it, instead of Hoarders, I'd rather appear on Canadian Pickers ...

All Saints and All Hallow's Eve ...

2011-11-02T16:28:00.004-04:00

I realized today I haven't been blogging much in the last year ... I have posted periodically about things, but my regular blogging has fallen away, replaced by the periodic visit to see what's new on the blogs I follow, and instead I tend to post my thoughts on facebook instead.

I can't really offer an apology for that, because there isn't really anything to apologize for.

I just haven't been compelled to blog.
I haven't been compelled to read much lately either.

Most days I just plug along trying to keep the ghost and memories at bay, and trying to focus on the tasks at hand.

Some days I do well. Some days I don't do quite as well. But every day I try to get through it.

This year my birthday came, and for the first time since I started this blog I missed it. I was just too busy doing other things to take time to post here. On Sunday we had a fabulous gathering of family out at Scott's Bush. We roasted marshmallows, played on the ATV's and walked through the bush that was as my cousin Michael observed "Scott's sanctuary."

Then on Monday we decorated the yard in an hour and a half for the tricker treater's, and had pizza for dinner.

All in all it was a good way to celebrate my birthday, but as I crawled into bed that night I realized that I was deeply missing two important pieces of my birthday celebrations over the last fifteen years ... This year there was no call from Indigo, and no call from my mom ... I went to bed very aware of their absence, and grieving their loss.

There would be no more calls from my brother saying "It's your brother ... you know - Scott" (he always said it more like a question than a statement - like I have another brother somewhere!!)

There would be no more calls from Indigo wishing me a Happy Birthday on the date we share.

And there would be no more rambling two hour calls from Mom filling me in on all the minutiae of life, the universe and family happenings.

While on one level it is no big deal, on another level it is another reminder of how many losses I've tallied this year ...

I went to bed reminded of those losses, but woke up the next morning knowing that Halloween gives way each year to All Saints, and with All Saints comes the reminder that those souls we've lost in this life are with us in the next.

All Saints is about the great cloud of witnesses that the medieval scholars spoke of so eloquently. But it is about so much more ... All Saints reminds us to celebrate the legacy and lessons that our departed saints have left for us.

My Mom, Laverne Baumbach, Scott, and Indigo have ALL taught me much in my journey, and even though they are gone from our lives, they are not fully nor completely gone ... they and the impressions and lessons they left remain ... I miss them, but I truly haven't forgotten them.

This year I have come to appreciate All Saints in a WHOLE new way.

And for the Saints and their lives among us, I am deeply thankful ... for such is the path of faith.

I'd rather be ATV'ing ...

2011-10-14T11:38:00.002-04:00

I'm sitting in my office getting caught up on paper work, computer updates, newletters and a variety of other things that had slipped to the bottom of the pile ... while I value a grey, rainy day as much as the next person to finally tackle the ever growing '2 Do' list that seems to be an inevitable part of ministry, I would by far rather be doing something else ...

I would love to be out in the Bush ATV'ing, and exploring more of the 59 acres that Scott dearly loved, and that I have come to appreciate more and more each time I spend time there ...

I would love to be home curled up on the bed reading one of the many books that are in the pile of 'to read' selections on the floor beside the bed, or down in my study ...

Or, I would love to just be sitting listening to the rain patter down with a mug of tea ...

I think one of the reasons for this laissez faire attitude has been the updating of the Church Webpage, and the inevitable look back that happens when you edit and change something that has been untouched for over six months !! You begin to think about ALL the things that have happened since you last visited, and you begin to wax a tad nostalgic about what has gone on ...

I found myself looking back, not only over the last six months, but over the last year and a bit that have elapsed since I arrived here ... I have often used Dickens' opening line from 'A Tale of Two Cities' when I pen my year end reflection for the AGM reports as minister. But looking back on 2011, I can't help but think that for the first time those words "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times ..." ring far too true.

There are moments lately when I feel overwhelmed with sadness at the realization that Mom and Scott are gone, and I am left to clean up what remains of their earthly legacy.

Some days are easier than others, while some days are incredibly hard just to get through ... Over the last ten months (and yes, it is hard to believe it has been THAT long), I have had good days and bad days and everything in between. I have wanted to pick up the phone and ask mom something, or share a bit of good news with her, and I've struggled with feelings of anger at the realization that I can't do that any more ...

I miss them. I miss Mr Baumbach, and I miss Indigo ... losing the four of them in such short order made for a hard start to 2011, and I still struggle to make sense of it all.

Intellectually, I know ALL of this is a normal part of the journey ... but it is in moments like this that my heart and my head are on two very different planes. And when that happens, I would rather be off doing something like ATV'ing in the Bush, exploring the beautiful corner of creation that Scott wisely bought some 20 years ago and has left for us as his legacy and his gift ...

It's ALL about the context ...

2011-10-02T08:29:00.003-04:00

It's ALL about the context !

Over the last fifteen years I have tried over and over to encourage and promote the use of Fair Trade products in the various Churches I've served. I long ago gave up using anything BUT Fair Trade when it comes to my coffee and tea - I will not claim the high ground of saying I ONLY use Fair Trade coffee and tea and nothing else, but I try to consciously use Fair Trade most of the time including when I'm travelling or out and about. There are times when there is none available, but at home my coffee is 100% Fair Trade and our tea cupboard is about 75% Fair Trade.

SO, having said that - I find it fascinating to look at the last six months or so and realize how successful our Fair Trade promotion has been here in little old Flesherton. Not only have we claimed a niche at the Farmers' Market with out booth, we have managed to do far more than simply sell Fair Trade coffee to a handful of customers.

We have coffee, tea, sugar, dried fruit, chocolate, hot chocolate powder, and a variety of merchandise products available. Since we began in May, our selection of coffee and tea has grown from about a dozen varieties to the full catalogue of Level Ground products, well over a dozen teas from Just Us, and a wide range of other items.

Our sales have proven to be very strong with over 1000 individual items passing through our booth and displays in the last six months. This has resulted in a number of achievements worth touting.

First off, it has raised close to $1000 for the Pastoral Charge, which is not insignificant.

It has also, and perhaps most importantly, raised awareness in the community of our existence and our commitment not only to justice causes, but to our greater community as well. In addition to people saying over and over "Really? There is a United Church in Eugenia? (or Flesherton?" we've had new faces pop up among us from the contacts at the Farmer's Market, AND we've managed to help be a conduit for the local Food Bank receiving day old baking, fresh unsold produce and other donations to help those in need.

The United Church Congregations through the sale of Fair Trade products has managed to achieve the very vision of community involvement I have, for the last 15 years held out as a very attainable goal. We are no longer simply the Congregation that once was, today St John's and Eugenia United Churches are standing proudly as contributing and committed members of the community, doing more than just supplying lovely Sunday morning Services.

People know who we are. People know where we are. And people feel that we are part of the community and they are welcome to be part of our's.

The simple question while standing over the table of Fair Trade products - "what time is Sunday Service?" tells us that our outreach is working. Comfortable with our presence in the Farmer's Market, people feel welcome enough to consider attending our worship services.

It is amazing to stop and reflect back on the decision by the Church Council to join the Farmer's Market with a regular booth. I will admit I was skeptical, but supportive. I was willing to make it happen, but feared a negative outcome. But the Council made the suggestion, supported the decision and now is clearly reaping the benefits of this bold initiative.

For my part, I'm delighted to see what can happen when a faith community takes seriously the challenge of thinking outside the box.

At no point did we see our involvement at the market as a means of proselytizing, but instead wanted to engage in outreach by simply selling Fair Trade products and letting people know it was important to us.

The enthusiasm proved contagious ... we have a large pool of loyal customers, and we've gained and benefited in many, many ways.

I've long said, the Fair Trade movement is about changing the world "one cup of coffee at a time", today after seeming to beat my head against an immovable wall for almost 15 years, I stand in a place where a faith community not only embraced that notion, but took it to a whole new level.

The people of Flesherton Pastoral Charge can and should be proud of this ministry, and what they've achieved thus far. They opened a door and boldly stepped through benefiting themselves, their community, and dozens of other communities around the world who know have a connection to the Grey Highlands.

AND, best of all, this commitment is not ending, nor going on hiatus over the winter. Taking the example of the Wonder Cafe coffee houses suggested some time ago within this United Church of ours, we are hosting regular Coffee Cafe and Bazaars throughout the winter months to provide our customers and communities a Souk-like place to gather, buy coffee, and hopefully be joined by other vendors, artisans, and crafters who want to sell their wares.

No longer a place that is just about Sunday Morning Services, St John's and Eugenia United Churches are boldly and faithfully reclaiming their roles as hubs in their communities.

The doors are open like never before, and they are ready, willing and wanting to welcome in their community.

It is from where I sit today, simply breath-taking ... It's all about the context. When a community is willing to live and grow and share it's faith, ANYTHING can happen !!

I've said this countless times in my ministry. It's nice to stand in a place where it is actually and FINALLY happening !!! It is truly ALL about the context in which you live and move and share your faith !!!

Dayenu !!

Four More Names ...

2011-09-25T15:33:00.002-04:00

Today in Ottawa they gathered to add four more names to the Memorial to Fallen Police and Peace Officers in Canada ... among the crowd gathered was the young man pictured above - 2 1/2 yr old Nolan Russell, whose father died in the last year serving this country.

I have tried each fall to remember and acknowledge this National Day by beginning our worship services with a prayer for the fallen, and an act of Remembrance ... this year I just plain forgot ... But given the events and happenings over the last few months I think its understandable, and really not a big deal.

Fortunately though, in Ottawa, behind the Parliament Buildings, over looking the river, there was a crowd of people who gathered and who didn't forget. They didn't forget the seven hundred men and women who are acknowledged on the memorial, and regrettably, they added four more names to the Honour Roll.

Today, despite my liturgical oversight, my thoughts and prayers go out to the families of the fallen, and to the little people like young Nolan, who is on a journey I know only too well ... He will know his father through the stories and memories who take time to remember Sgt Russell. There is much he will miss, but today he will know and will be reminded over and over that his father, and others like mine, died as Heroes in Life not death, and that together we are family bound together by a ribbon of acknowledgement, memory and care.

Happy 116th Anniversary at Eugenia United Church!!

2011-09-18T23:30:00.003-04:00

Diane Leith sang beautifully, Chris Patterson rocked the place on the organ and piano, and the congregation truly sang their hearts out to the old familiar hymns we chose for our special Anniversary Service at Eugenia United Church.

All in all, it was a fabulous morning celebrating the many gifts and talents that continue to craft the history and legacy of this delightful little country Church.

In 1895 the corner stone was set down and over the next two years stones, pews, furniture, wood and stained glass was donated as the work on the little Presbyterian Church brought into being a beautiful sanctuary that continues to ring with life.

Looking back on the last 14 months that I've been part of the journey here in the Flesherton Pastoral Charge, I can cite the amazing dedication and talent of the musicians who help create sacred worship space, and the commitment of our congregation to the ministry that not only simply continues, but with each passing week expands and finds new corners of our community to share Grace and care within.

Today was about celebrating the history of a neat little Church, but more importantly, it was about daring to look into the future and celebrate our sure and certain hope that God has not finished the work that began here long before a Building housed this congregation ...

Today was dreaming of what we can do tomorrow and in the days that follow, because we are called by God to carry the Good News into our community and our world !!!

The Role of the Holy Fool ...

2011-09-11T16:17:00.005-04:00

I've always loved comedy.
I remember as a kid watcing shows like Carol Burnett and rolling on the floor laughing. To put it in context, as a kid we had tv pillows made by our neighbour Mr. Baumbach that we laid on on the floor right in front of the old console Zenith in the living room. So, rolling on the floor was just part of a normal night of tv viewing.

Having said that though, comedy has been an important ribbon running through my life since childhood. I love to laugh, and I love to laugh at the comedic genius of anyone from Laurel & Hardy through to modern comedians like Russell Peters, George Carlin, Ron James and the late great Bill Hicks.

I'll openly admit that I had never heard of Bill Hicks until Katie (of the blog At the Half Note) suggested then sent a cd of his comedy to me. I was awestruck ... I listened to the cds of this comedic genius over and over and over ... I searched out a book of his musings, and I managed to find a dvd of his routines. I've referenced him numerous times around here, and I'll even proudly proclaim that I've referenced him in my sermons on several occassions.

Most recently was today ... I used Bill's wise statement about the world being nothing more than a ride, as the opening salvo in my 9/11 Anniversary Reflection.

My motivation was and remains simple - I wanted to use something that challenges us to look beyond the fear and insecurity that grips our modern era, and instead hear words of HOPE that challenge us to move PAST our fear and embrace more positive feelings and thoughts like love ... and Mr Bill Hicks, a man who harshly (and perhaps rightly) criticized the Church, offers those words for us ...

So, I quoted from him, and celebrated the necessary role of 'The Fool' in our midst, particularly in times when we seem intent on other things ... The role of the Fool in Shakespearean literature is that of the wise man speaking the truth that no one wants to hear ... Today in our post-9/11 world I would dare to suggest that Bill Hicks represents such a Holy Fool who speaks the truth we need to hear.

I'll be posting my sermon shortly over at my blog "United Church in the Grey Highlands" ... let me know what you think ...

In the meantime ... thoughts and prayers for our troubled world today and always!
Shalom,

Call to Worship for Today's Service ...

2011-09-11T16:12:00.004-04:00

Our worship services began with our organist/pianist playing the hymn "O God, our help in ages past" in the background as I shared the following Call to Worship/Act of Remembrance that ended in the lighting of the Christ Candle in the front of our Sanctuary:

Call to Worship/Lighting of the Christ Candle:

One: It happened on a Tuesday. The sky was clear and blue. The smoke was thick, dark and ominous. Images are now forever etched in our minds, losses forged into our souls, and fear made real.

ALL: O God our help in ages past, our hope for years to come.

One: We remember the moment. We remember flames, explosions, falling debris, tumbling towers, wailing sirens, crying voices, and the still silence of death.

ALL: our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home.

One: They say the world changed, yet in our world of violence this moment is far from unique … the change is in us … realizing violence can happen here and not just somewhere else.

ALL: Under the shelter of thy throne, they saints have dwelt secure.

One: We remember the dead. Those who died that day, and the soldiers and civilians who have died since. We remember the dead and we continue our prayers for the living …

ALL: sufficient is thy arm alone, and our defence is sure.

One: We pray for peace in a world rife with violence and strife. We pray for Shalom in a world enveloped in darkness. We pray for Salaam in a world filled with fear …

ALL: O God our help in ages part, our hope for years to come.

One: It happened on a Tuesday. The sky was clear and blue. The world changed because for the first time we came to see it as it is …

ALL: be thou our guard while troubles last and our eternal home.

One: Be with us in our memories O God, and send us forth as a people touched by our past, but motivated by our future to recreate what is into a place of abundant Shalom …

(Lighting of the Christ Candle)

One: We light this candle remembering the words of the prophets who boldly and audiciously proclaim their sure and certain hope that the light will shine in the darkness: (Isaiah 9:2-3)

One: As this light glows we pause to remember … we remember the dead, the broken, the wounded … and we remember the Living

Observation of a Moment of Silence in Remembrance:

*Hymn: Make Me a Channel of Your Peace. VU 684

British Riots and reflective feedback ...

2011-08-11T09:56:00.003-04:00

I can't help but wonder if the London Riots are simply the tip of a bigger more ominious iceberg that is about to tear a whole into the heart of our culture and society ...

Last night on CBC Radio as I was driving home from Stratford I listened to the many bits and pieces they broadcast about the ongoing riots in Britain. I found myself nodding in agreement with the politicians who posit the blame for much of this on the shoulders of parents who have failed miserably in providing their children with quality time, value as people and citizens and most important of all: a moral compass. When I heard the clip on "As it Happens" from the BBC interviewing rioters in Birmingham who were proud that they had looted a store for things they could afford, but didn't want to spend money on a penny dropped for me ...

The problem is societal. For the last twenty years we've valued and dare I say as a theologian, worshipped the consumerist lifestyle, falsely believing that commericalism will cure all that ails us. The most chilling example of this might be George W. Bush in the smouldering wake of 9/11 telling American to 'continue shopping' as though nothing was wrong ... somewhere along the line we've sold our collective souls to the company store, and our company store bears names like Nike, Wal-Mart, McDonalds, and so on ...

We've displaced real relationships with people for our relationships with stuff ... we marvel through shows like Hoarders, at people who have too much stuff, and we rail when people with too little stuff seem to abuse food banks and charities ... yet, the effect of placing our emphasis on STUFF is most harshly revealed in places like London, Birmingham and the other city centres across England that are smouldering in the wake of these ongoing riots.

The problem is not solely disenfranchised and alientated youth - the problem is our SOCIETY.

We've lost our moral compass.

We value massive houses on acreages as the symbol of wealth while failing to recognize that many in our communities today can barely put food on the table while others doors away live with such abundance that they think NOTHING of building a 400 000 dollar house with a 7 car garage and filling it with the newest electronics and latest gadgets, all the while ignoring the profound and devestating effects this unchecked consumerism is having on our community, our region, our country and our planet.

We've bought into a flawed idea that happiness will be found wearing the right clothes, using the right gadgests, eating the right foods, driving the right car, and hanging out with the right people ... what we've failed to acknowledge is that such pursuits eventually need, nay they demand, that only the newest and the latest will suffice.

The rat race we're on as a culture is offensive on EVERY LEVEL and we close our eyes to it ...

Want to stop the riots in England and prevent them elsewhere?

My solution is simple - turn off the crap on our screens like Jersey Shore and the other shows that stress bad behaviour, an indulgent lifestyle and a lack of responsibility ... next, take these young people and sit them down with the folks who's lives they've disrupted and let them listen to how their selfishness has effected others ... then finally, as parents and citizens, let's insist that our kids need to take off their caps as a sign of respect, pull up their damned jeans, stop talking the jibberish that passes for 'street talk' and start being RESPONSIBLE and most of all RESPECTFUL members of society.

Let's start teaching our children the meaning of the word "NO" and stop indulging them ... if we fail to heed the warnings the riots in Britan are simple the start of a new troubling trend !!

P.S. I find it funny that there was a timely article on parenting in a recent Atlantic magazine - check it out by clicking here!!

It hit like a wave ...

2011-08-10T23:35:00.002-04:00

Today I spent some time at Mom's sifting and sorting ... I went through accumulated piles of newspaper clippings, cards, notes, photographs and other assorted items that have been tucked away over the last 40 years ... it was a process I have done a dozen times since Mom and Scott died ... some days it goes well, and other days it crashes in on me and I have to retreat ...

Today went well ... I even had an unexpected visit from a high school friend ... with laughter tinged with a few tears we got caught up and marveled at how quickly two and a half decades had passes, and how easy it is to resume our friendship where it left off ... as she left, I returned to the task smiling at the strange twists and turns life frequently takes.

I kept sorting and sifting, then decided that the errands I had decided to do while in Stratford should be done while I still had the 'oomph' to face people ... When I got back I couldn't bring myself to do any more work ... I can almost point to the precise moment when the wave crashed over me and robbed me of the ability to muddle my way through ...

I was left staggering around like a wet survivor of a tropical storm, a tsunami or a hurricane ... I felt overwhelmed and alone ... I didn't know where to turn, or what to do next ... I felt lost ... SO, I sat in a chair in the living room and listened ...

I listened to the hum of the house that for 43 plus years has been home ...

I listened to the whisper of memories that has for almost 50 years been my family story and our history ...

I listened to the echo of laughter and tears that have marked every step of our journey ...

I listened to the voices of mom and Scott that I dearly miss, but that I hear within every time I close my eyes ...

I listened to the hum of conversation around the kitchen table that often lulled me to sleep while mom visited quietly with family and friends in the evening ...

I listened to the voices of extended family and the many friends who filled the now quiet walls of our house with laughter, conversation, and a myriad of memories that give me the courage I need to face what lies ahead ...

I sat and a second wave washed over me ... this one was comfortable and familiar and helped me shake the chill of the first wave ... as it ebbed away I had a vision of what I need to do to get Mom's house cleaned out, and our home packed up and moved ... there are things that need to come home, things that need to go to other family and friends, things that need to go out to the Bush, and there are things that need to be passed on to others through sales, auctions and donations ... as I sat I knew it was possible despite the feelings of being overwhelmed I get when I move from room to room in the house that is empty of people but far from empty of stuff ... the stuff has intimidate and scared me ... some days I feel there is too much, and I would be better off to lock the door and just leave it for some day in the distant future ...

But today, I know for the first time that it is not only possible, it is necessary to my healing ...

I will always carry a void in my life left by Mom and Scott, and the others I've loved and lost ... but with each step forward, this scar brings strength and helps me continue on my journey ...

A day of reflection ...

2011-08-09T12:31:00.003-04:00

It's funny ... and it is also sad at the same time ... in the last few days having time to rest, read and reflect along with hanging with some of my extended family have revealed a few things to me ...

First off, I miss my Mom, my brother, and the members of my family who have passed on in recent years. I find it hard to believe it has been SO long since Uncle Drake and my cousin Duane died. (they were the start of the losses) Along the way with the passage of time I've said good bye to my Grandma, my mom, my brother, Mr Baumbach and my friend Indigo (among others) who were meaningful and important to my journey. That sadness ebbs and flows throughout my days, and touches every aspect of my life ...

Last night watching an episode of one of the many 'hoarder' shows on tv, I realized that I could easily spiral into a similar place by holding too tightly to the 'stuff' that carries memories of these folks and others who have graced my journey along the way. While I'm striving to balance the fine line between preserving my memories with a selection of mementos, and not being overwhelmed by the urge to save everything, I find that it would be easy to stumble off into a deep dark place ...

However, I don't fear tripping into the darkness ... I've been there enough to know the warning signs, and I am very fortunate to have a strong circle of family and friends who help keep me level ... for THAT I am thankful.

But what I realized in the last couple of days is how little the Church has really done to help me along the way. In recent months I've been overwhelmed by the care and support of the folks here in the Flesherton Pastoral Charge who have helped get me through the tough spots, and who continue to uphold me through their respective ministries. I've come to realize that they (whether they consciously realize it or not) embody the very virtues and principles of faith and the Christian Calling.

Over and over as I've resumed my reading of church and theological works, I find myself saying "Flesherton and Eugenia do that ..." when I find a passage about faith in action.

I will not say they're perfect - no church is - but the Congregations of St John's and Eugenia don't try to hide their flaws and foibles. They don't slap on a happy face and pretend 'all is well', but rather with a smile and a loving heart they try to wrestle with the issue before them, and they try to offer the best solution they can ... laughter and joy mark the ups and downs.

What I've drawn from this is a realization that this ethos is what I've expected in the life and ministry of a Congregation claiming to follow Jesus. I found this ethos in Portage with the Presbyterian Church I was blessed to serve for a year and a half and I can identify this ethos within individuals in EVERY congregation I've served in my ministry, but I haven't found it as the community ethos in the Congregations I've been called to since the late 90's ...

While I have colleagues and associates who have openly rejected my use of Friedman's book "Generation to Generation" in explaining and understanding the happenings in Langley and Minnedosa, I now stand in a place where I can see how invasive and debilitating the toxicity Friedman identifies has been in EVERY LEVEL of the Church in those areas. Lacking a cohesive and healthy ethos means there is nothing to unify and strengthen the faith community ... dysfunction deepens and strengthens!

This is not to preclude the presence of good and faithful people - I can list by name the people who are not part of the proverbial problem ... the issue is the extent to which the problem is systemic and hidden from view.

Reading Diana Butler-Bass' most recent book "A people's history of Christianity", and the book "There Serenity Prayer" by Elizabeth Sifton helped me see how voices that speak outside of the comfort zone of the status quo will NEVER been given support nor encouragement, but will ALWAYS be rejected and sent packing. In moments of great societal stress, when the Church is called most strongly to speak up and speak out, the lack of a faithful ethos means silence and simply 'going with the flow' becomes the dominant trait of the Church. Those who reject silence and see the need to faithful staunch the flow, are pushed aside and pushed out.

When the voice is shrill, and is coupled with other factors, the situation demands that the easiest solution be sought ... in my case instead of helping me wrestle with my baggage and my stuff, it was easier to send me packing and to (erroneously) announce that everything was all better. For those who remain, and who were in favour of the simple solution things are better, but failing to address the hurts and the unresolved (and in some cases generational) issues that linger, things are NOT all better. They are anything but.

Over and over in the history of the Church we see the triumph of the so-called majority, who want to define the Church on their terms and their conditions, and who will stop at nothing to attain that end. When it comes to small towns and church communities, the majority is usually silent and acquiesce to what the outspoken power brokers want. It is simpler to go along with the squeaky wheels, then stand in their way. And when the squeaky wheels are well heeled, well connected and politically positioned for power and influence, the truth becomes irrelevant, and the ONLY outcome is what they want whether it is right, healthy, appropriate or even moral.

Over and over might trumps right !! History bears this out ...

So, as one who has endured, and in some ways survived the slings and arrows lobbed by the "good church people" over the last fifteen years who have been threatened, offended or otherwise made uncomfortable by my ministry and the challenges (both positive and negative) contained therein, I can look back with bewilderment that the United Church, the denomination that has historically prided itself on being open, inclusive and welcoming, has proven to be anything but when it comes to voices from within that are shrill, sharp, pointed and most of all hurting ...

I will openly admit that I have spent much of my ministry in a place of hurt and loneliness.

I moved far from my family to serve the Church, and was unable to get back when I needed or wanted to ... visits were few and far between ... important people died, and I had to mourn their passing alone and far from the circle I needed to be enveloped within to help my healing and wholeness ...

My calls for help and support were heard and heeded by individuals within the various Congregations I served, but the leadership failed miserably to live the simple principles of love and care and compassion that are central to our faith.

One night many years ago I was called to the bed side of a Church member who was dying ... throughout the night I sat with the family as a life slipped away ... in the pre-dawn hours, we prayed as the final breath was drawn. I went home exhausted and sad at the death and the depth of emotion that had filled the room ... my head had barely hit the pillow when the phone rang and the Board Chair asked why I wasn't in the office.

My explanation of having been up all night with a family was met with "We have office hours for a reason, and as our minister we EXPECT you to honour them ..."

I was, and I remain dumbfounded ...

Looking back, I see the immense abyss that lies between my expectations of ministry and the ethos of the Church, and their operating expectations and ethos ... I draw mine from my readings of theology and Scriptures ... theirs sounds like it came from an MBA text somewhere ...

The Church is NOT a business.
The Church is NOT a business.
The Church is NOT a business.

Can we say it enough??
Can we comprehend what this means?
Can we return to the values, principles and ethos that are found in the teachings of the one who looked up into a tree where a reviled tax collector sat and said "Come down, we need to talk?"

Jesus was not about keeping office hours, or maintaining the status quo. Jesus was about proclaiming, highlighting and embodying the Kingdom of God in our world.

The Kingdom of God welcomes people as they are and helps them strive to be better.

The Kingdom of God welcomes in the sinners and the broken and offers wholeness.

The Kingdom of God welcomes in the dirty and wounded and offers limitless LOVE.

The Kingdom of God is about moving past comfort and safety and embracing our calling.

Sadly, the Kingdom of God is absent in many corners of our world where it is desperately needed, and where it is openly called for ...

We will never find the Kingdom of God amongst the scribes and lawyers and their rules and regulations ... the Kingdom of God is found out where the wounded and the hurting find help and care.

Looking back, I can see that one of my biggest problems is that I, like my brother, operate with an expectation of TRUST and Good Faith. If you say "x" I foolishly expect you to do "x", and get hurt and angry when you DON'T.

Unfortunately, like any good bureaucratic institution, The Church is about saying "X" and doing anything but.

I also foolishly believe that within the Church people will be judged by their ability and their character not by their political or familial connection, and definitely NOT by their economic clout, and not because they have screamed the loudest.

Today, I can see that I carry a fair bit of anger about the path I've been on since my ordination in 1993. The funny thing for me today is the realization that I am most angry at myself for being such a damned fool for believing that the Church would be different from a legalistic bureaucracy that is more interested in preserving and defending itself, then in actually caring for people.

The bureaucracy of the Church saddens me.

In the last 15 years I've struggled emotionally, spiritually, economically, and in a myriad of ways, and my cries for help have been not only ignored, they have been met with actions on the part of the Church that deepened and worsened that spiral ... I will never say I've been blameless, nor will I ever suggest that I wasn't offered care ... however, in the moment when I most needed help, the response from the various Courts of the Church was to shun and ignore me, rather than listen to what was really happening ...

Along the way my hurt and anger deepened, and my loneliness caused me to lash out ... Rather than trying to address the hurts and tend the wounds, the easier path was to push me out the door figuratively AND literally. My hurt offended people and exacerbated PRE-EXISTING problems in no less than TWO congregations and managed to lay bare the dysfunction that was accepted as normal, and that masked the toxins - and rather than trying to solve the crisis in a faithful and just way, the easy route was taken (straight out of Friedman): reject the Clergy and continue with a 'business as usual' attitude.

Again: The Church is NOT a business.

Things were NOT business as usual ... the voices that speak of their hurts, their isolation, their anger and their feelings of rejection show us (if we dare to see) that all is not well in the life and ministry of the faith communities that fail to face the truth. If we are to be an open, welcome, inclusive and faithful community we MUST hear the voices of those who stand on the margins and weep at the actions of the "faithful few".

As we heed and hear and respond to those voices on the margins, we will have to wrestle with the simple realization that we CAN and we MUST do better in the future. Just because the dozen or so people left are happy, doesn't mean the right path was chosen. We MUST hear the stories of the other three dozen people who no longer feel welcome or accepted by the few who remain.

The Spirit calls us to welcome ALL, not just a select few.

My anger and my deepest hurt is the realization that in many cases, the Institution that is the modern Church simply doesn't care about people like me ... my hurts and my wounds and my burdens are mine alone to carry ... If I came from the "right" family, or had the "right" friends and connections, and if I wasn't so prickly, my path in the Church might be easier and less fraught with trauma and rejection, but that realization alone lays bare the most glaring weakness of the Modern Church.

The treatment of people in the Church, both lay and clergy, should NEVER vary, and it should never be influenced by who you know, or who you are related to. The Church is a place for ALL people without condition.

I will never understand why it is so hard to live that principle.

Looking back, I can see now where my choices and my actions lead to negative consequences and very negative outcomes. But I still marvel at the propensity of the Institution to scape goat the minister rather than working at addressing the REAL issue. (This is STRAIGHT out of Friedman)

Over the last fifteen years, I've went through a bewildering spiral of happenings and events that affected and effected my life ... and through it all, the one partner in my ministry that utterly failed in its Covenant, has been the greater Church ... Call me a fool for taking those words of Covenant that mark our Pastoral Relationships seriously, but I will, until my dying day, believe that when you give your word you live by it.

I will not claim to be perfect, but I have tried to live by the promises made in June of 1993 when I was ordained, and that were re-iterated several times since. A Covenant is not 'just words' - it is a binding promise, and because of that, I carry a great deal of sadness about the failure of the other partners to live by THEIR words.

Today, after realizing that my brother struggled with the same issue in his life, I've come to realize how strong my expectation is in regards to living up to one's words. We were raised with the simple ethos of: "If you say it, you do it." There were no exceptions to this rule - it was a sacrosanct thing. And when it came to faith and Church and living out what we believed, it was stronger still.

My brother saw the hypocrisy in the Church long ago ... I've ran hard and fast against it repeatedly ... fortunately, those moments when I have been battered and bloodied by the Institution of the Church, I have been tended to by faithful "Good Samaritans" who like their Scriptural role model rise above the nonsense and address the needs of others in faith, and care no a whit about 'keeping up appearances' or maintaining the status quo.

I hold no illusions that the Institution will ever change. But I thank God that over and over in the last 20 years of my journey I've met people who take their faith seriously, and who in response to the hypocrisy of the Institutional Church, actively chose to live their faith counter to the prevailing ethos of their Church ... and today, for the first time, I can honestly look around and see that I am within a Faith Community that within its diversity has found a commonality in living out their faith TOGETHER in a myriad of caring ways.

I'm still hurt and a bit angry about how the Church has treated me ... but as I finally have the time, the space, the care and the support to tend my wounds and lay aside my burdens, I know that I am a stronger person for the failure of the Church to live its faith thus far ... as they say: what doesn't kill ya, makes ya stronger!!

I'm strong today because the Church consistently failed me, and those who in faith called for change ... the status quo may be comfortable for a select few, but it is far from faithful, and as many wise and prophetic voices have counselled over the centuries: those things that are not faithful, nor inspired by God or the Spirit are doomed to fail!!

Change is inevitable ... and change begins by tending the wounds of our neighbours. It's a simple lesson really, but in its simplicity it has been overlooked ... fortunately though The Kingdom of God will prevail whether we want it or not!!

Anyone Else Remember the DeniMachine Give Away?

2011-08-02T20:43:00.004-04:00

The process of going through Scotty's stuff continues ... today I unearthed a box that was jammed with a wide variety of items tucked in amongst the other stuff was a pile of advertisements for the Coca-Cola, Levi's, Ford DenimMachine!!! (He even has a full page newspaper ad saved !!)

I remember one of the DeniMachines visiting the Stratford Fall Fair (or it might have been the Western Fair in London) - the interior was done in Blue Denim (aka: Levi's) and it was a thing of beauty.

I was only nine or so when it was being promoted, and Scott would have been 15 turning 16 that fall - so he was smack in the demographic Coke was aiming for. I'm sure he would have given up his first car (a 69 Javelin) had he won one of these beauties. I'd love to know how many entries he filled out that summer and sent it in.

Today though, as I stood in Mom's kitchen looking at the DeniMachine promotion materials I remembered Scott finding a DemiMachine in an AutoTrader once a few years ago and he mused about buying it and restoring it ... today I was reminded once again that a simple piece of paper can bring so many memories ...

Boxes of memories ...

2011-07-28T15:04:00.003-04:00

Every time I open a draw in his room, or clean up something from the shelves, closet or floor, I can clearly hear Scott's voice: "what the hell do you think you're doing?" rattling me AND the assorted items spread across his bed, his dresser and the various other surfaces ... I can't enter his room without a guttural connection to the years of fearing him finding me poking around through is treasures.

There were the absolutely beautiful Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars in his dresser, the cool stuffies in the closet, and the other odds and ends that he had tucked away here and there ... as a kid I spent many a terror filled hour poking around and exploring in my Big Brother's room, all the while KNOWING that if I was caught a beating would be the inevitable outcome.

It's funny ... even today, I still feel a shudder of fear as I enter his room and sort through things ... I know he's passed from this mortal coil, but the lesson was drummed into me well ... "LEAVE MY STUFF ALONE !!!" along with an accompanying beating, some curse words and a few other acts of brotherly 'love' taught me well !!

Yet, here I am, having to sift through the assorted odds and ends that Scott has left as a legacy ... yesterday I tackled his closet.

I sorted through his clothes, tossing the old worn out tee-shirts, bagging up the usable ones that hold no interest for me, and folding those that I can either use, or just want to keep because they speak to my soul ... along the way I found bits of paper tucked into his pockets, a few stale pieces of gum, and the odd item that left me shaking my head ... I've come to realize that my brother was in many ways an enigma ...

On the exterior there was a rough and crusty curmudgeon who prided himself for being a real S.O.B. when necessary, but inside was a soft, warm and very sensitive heart that broke easily, and that he protected fiercely ... Scott was unbelievably sentimental. I got a hint of that early in the cleaning up at Mom's when I said that I wanted Mom's binder cook book full of her hand written recipes.

"No way," he replied with a look of disbelief at my request, "I want it ..."

"For what?" I asked.

"To keep and use," he said with a sad grin on his face, "I plan on cooking more and want to use Mom's recipes ..."

I couldn't argue, nor did I feel inclined. "Okay," I said, "but I want to borrow it sometime to copy it ..."

We agreed, and I watched him carry the funky yellow and orange binder into his room, where a few short days later I retrieved it and gently carried it home ...

Scott was a sentimental old fool ... pictures, cards, notes, and mementos of trips and happenings fill the space in his room. Over and over, I have had the pleasure of sorting through his accumulated piles and laughing at the strange selection of things that he had saved ... I've wept at the pictures of family, friends, vehicles and pets that he has lovingly tucked away in a safe place ... and I've shaken my head in bewilderment at how incredibly tender a soul he possessed.

Finding the box of his childhood stuffies carefully tucked in the back of his closet alongside Dad's guitar, and a variety of other "childish" things stopped me short yesterday as I cleaned and sorted ... as I opened the box I was flooded with a tsunami of memories that took me back to my childhood ... as each stuffie emerged from the box I remembered borrowing them, Scott retrieving them, and the ensuing fights as I questioned his rigid YOU CAN`T PLAY WITH THEM attitude over his toys ...

Scott was not so much a hoarder as a curator over a dizzying collection of artifacts and treasures that had meaning to him ... he preserved carefully things that reminded him of past events and helped him garner the strength he needed to face the challenges before him. One could easily dismiss his room as cluttered and full of junk, but slowly, like any good archaeological dig, peeling back the layers reveals a beautiful, loving, artistic and creative soul, that cherished life, yearned for love, and with a cock-eyed grin and a snarky: "give your head a shake" approached life on his terms, protecting the curly headed boy that lingered deep within ...

In the last six months, as I've sorted through my brother's things I've learned more and more about him, and with each day I've come to miss him more and more, and appreciate him even more ... Scott was an amazing person ...

I wish I could have learned that simple truth before we said 'good bye' ...

I love you bro ... and I'll take good care of your stuff!!!

Church Sign from along the way ...

2011-07-28T15:03:00.000-04:00

Lessons from Uncovered Treasures ...

2011-07-18T13:32:00.003-04:00

It's not valuable. Just a card with two old one dollar bills tucked inside. And to be honest, I don't remember even giving it to Mom. But for some reason Mom tucked it into one of her dresser drawers and there is sat for 30 years or more until I discovered it yesterday as I was cleaning out more stuff ...

When Mom died and Scott and I began the initial cleaning we KNEW it would be a long and exhausting process. Mom was a pack rat and saved everything. The inventory of saved treasures includes bulletins from confirmations and baptisms of our cousins, invitations to weddings, showers and other family events, stacks and stacks of photos, thank you notes, news paper clippings, and a countless other bits and pieces of our lives and the lives of our circle of friends and family.

Along the way the task was complicated by Scott's unexpected and untimely passing ... but as I've carefully sifted through the assorted detritus in Mom's house I've laughed, smiled, wept, and shaken my head in bemusement ... I've learned quite a lot about my brother, my mother, my father, and my family ... I've read heart breaking notes and letters sent to mom after Dad died, leaving her to raise 'her boys' alone, and I've learned just how hard her struggle was to pick up the pieces following his death in uniform.

Over and over, I marvel at how uncaring, insensitive and unbelievably thoughtless the various social agencies were in response to her requests for help after Dad's death - a death that was 'celebrated' at the time and since as a "sacrifice for the people of Ontario." His death was a sacrifice, but the burden borne by my family was un-necessarily heavy because no one in places of power and influence saw the need to help a family who had suffered an unimaginable loss ... fortunately, the lesson was eventually learned and families like that of Constable Styles in York Region will NEVER experience what Mom went through ... but reading the many, many, many letters she received in the years after Dad's death makes me appreciate how far they've come ... I wish Mom could have benefitted a little more along the way.

And more sadly perhaps, is the repeat that Scott experienced following his accident in the early 1990's. No one who knew Scott before and after the accident can honestly say it didn't profoundly and negatively effect him ... his physical body was wrecked ... his spirit was broken ... and his emotions were ravished ... reading the many submissions he made seeking help and assistance, and the steadfast refusal of almost everyone to accept his plaintive claims is heart breaking. I know my brother carried a lot of anger - some of it came from losing Dad so young - some of it came from the limitations the accident brought to him - and some of it came from the incredible pain he carried day in and day out ... reading his accounts of what the accident did to him is hard ... far harder than I realized, because my big brother held far more pain inside himself then he EVER let on.

And yet, over and over he was told that he was faking his injuries and pain, he was told it was 'all in his head', and he was told that his claims were without substance ... for well over a decade, he fought for someone to honour his claim and give him help so he could have some quality of life ...

Today, looking back over everything I've been through in the last 7 months, and reflecting on what I've learned about my family from sorting and reading through the many letters, notes and documents that have been tucked away and preserved by both Mom and Scott, I can honestly breath a sigh of relief that the burdens they both carried for so long have been taken from them ... but with my relief comes more than just a twinge of sorrow at what they had to endure, and how much they had to fight just to have ANYONE recognize the hurt and pain they carried.

Today, I have a deeper respect for my Mom and my brother Scott for all they endured, but more importantly, I can in faith, breath a sigh of relief that today they are in a place where that burden is well and truly GONE ... For over 42 years, Mom shouldered a burden of grief that should never have been her's to bear alone ... and along the way, she protected and cherished her beloved "boys", and I am a better person for her presence and love in my life, my one regret is that she never had the chance to enjoy freedom from that burden in this life ...

Thanks Mom ... I love you more and more every day !!
I miss you, and I will never forget you, AND I am proud to remain "your boy"!!

Sermons and Other Stuff ...

2011-07-14T12:48:00.003-04:00

Pop over to 'United Church in the Grey Highlands' for my latest sermons and other offerings, which I just updated this morning.

Rather than fearing modern technology, the folks in the Flesherton Pastoral Charge have embraced the potential and possibilities of using social media, online resources and even blogs as a means of outreach ... funny the difference a supportive community can make !!!

Check out our Pastoral Charge Web Page too: http://stjohnsunitedchurch.com/

Our God is a God of Love and Acceptance:

2011-07-14T12:33:00.004-04:00

It is coming up on almost six years since the fire that destroyed the Church building in Minnedosa, and disrupted the lives of many ... since then life has moved on, people have forgotten the lessons that were offered, and many have simply turned their back on the horrendous events of that terrible night, and the ongoing repercussions that continue to resonate throughout the community of Minnedosa and the lives of those affected by the fire and the loss of the building.

For some, things are 'all better now', while for others (and I'd dare to say that this group far exceeds those who say 'it's all better') the effect is still being felt ... they say time heals all wounds, and while that might be true, untended wounds fester and become infected and in time can kill thier host ... Pretending it's all better serves no one, particularly the Church we are called to be ... moving on and ignoring the hurt and pain of our neighbours doesn't bring healing, it just means things linger and fester ...

Fortunately though, despite the best efforts of the willingfully blind, healing (the very Grace of God in action) comes and we that receive it are better for it ... Time does heal all wounds, but ONLY when there is honesty and openness ...

This week I once again found a comment on the posting I offered in 2007 when someone took the example of the fire and said it was 'proof' that God hates Goths ... this notion of God hating any one continues to be a ludicrious affront to all things Faithful, and shows the misuse of faith that people are capable of when they are overwhelmed with fear.

Our God is a God of love, and despite our best efforts to the contrary, our God will never be thwarted by our shortsightedness, our fears, and our insecurities ... the fire in Minnedosa and the events in the five years since underscores the folly that is experienced when people fail to surrender themselves to God ... fortunately, God's whisper continues despite the best efforts of those who fear the light (a reader's comment from the blog posting of Jan 21st 2007):

I do consider myself goth as well as catholic. Thank God for people like you, who understand that god is a force of love, not hate and that those who preach hate in his name only make the faithful look bad. Admittedly, I can be a bit violent at times (being a gamer, a goth, and asexual means that I'm an easy person to hate, and the large amounts of bullying at an early age have caused me to be a little to quick to cure intolerance with a knee to the crotch)and I do not go to church as much as i ought to (the intolerant fools sorta do a good job in scaring people away). Honestly, internet being what it is, these people are one of three things.

1) Hateful fools who I desperately hope god will cure.

2) Forum trolls being offensive, in need of psychiatric help to deal with underlying emotional conditions.

3) Intelligent people making a stealth parody of the above two and just did too good of a job. (yes these sorts of things are way more common than people realize)

ps, the odd name comes from a WoW alt

To those who claim "it's ALL better now" ... one day you WILL be called to account for your actions ...

Kinda Grim ...

2011-07-04T15:12:00.004-04:00

The John Deere lawn tractor I brought home from Mom's has some rather grim warning stickers on it (as pictured above)

I think they get the point across rather effectively. Makes me wonder though, just who has been using garden tractors and HOW, to necessitate these kind of warnings!?!?

Fair Trade !!

2011-07-04T15:09:00.003-04:00

I am LOVING the fact that the folks here at Flesherton have not only supported, but have EMBRACED the sale of Fair Trade products !!!

We have a WIDE range of coffee from THREE (yes, THREE) different companies, and as of today, we have dried fruit, tea, chocolate, sugar and even Fair Trade Merchandise available at the Church Office as well as at booths at two Farmers' Markets !!!

So far the Pastoral Charge has realized a profit of close to $500 dollars in less than a month, and we've raised the level of awareness in the community about our presence, and about Fair Trade tremendously.

It feels good just know you can really make a difference sometimes !!!

43 Years Ago ...

2011-07-01T21:27:00.002-04:00

This week in York Region, family, friends and fellow officers will gather to say farewell to Constable Styles, who died on duty this past week ...

I've thought of his children frequently in the last few days ... I know too well the journey they are about to embark upon. Like them, I was too young to know my Father when he fell on duty on June 29th 1968 ... he would be known to me through the stories and recollections of others who shared their memories with me over the years ... I never knew my Dad, but I grew up knowing that I missed him, and that I had missed out on a special man ...

My Dad was, like Constable Styles a hero before the accident that claimed his life, and remained a hero subsequent to his death ...

There is much about Dad I wish I could have known ... I wish I could have heard his laughter, felt his touch, head his voice, shared a beer with him, and enjoyed the many things that gave him joy in his life, beginning with his family ...

Forty Three years ago this week Constable Samuel Ankenmann died while on duty with the OPP, and today for the first time, I am alone in missing him ... I hope the journey ahead is different for the Styles children. I know they will get more support and help than Scott and I ever got - from help to go to school, through to more than an occassional visit from the detachment commanding officer, the children of fallen officers are not forgotten in the same way Scott and I were ... we were simply a statistic after a few years ...

Fortunately this is NOT something that will happen to the Styles children, and for that I am grateful ... losing a father is hard enough, but struggling day after day, year after year with no help and little support tears away at you ... and my brother and I both experienced this in our lives ...

Time heals all wounds ... but sometimes it takes a LONG time to heal ...

Trying ...

2011-07-01T21:13:00.002-04:00

I've wanted to blog ... I've been trying to blog ... but over the last couple of months I've honestly struggled with what I could offer here ...

I don't want this blog to become an introspective and maudlin place full of sad postings about how I'm feeling and how much I miss my Mom and my brother, and grieve thier passing ... and so, I often forego coming here and posting anything ... I'm still grieving and still struggling, and that shouldn't surprise anyone. Afterall, I've often counselled families in grieve with the teaching drawn from our Jewish brothers and sisters, that it takes a year to feel somewhat normal.

In the many resources I've read over the last two decades on death and grief, I've read over and over how the Jewish customs of mourning last for over a year, with requirements to honour and respect the breadth of feelings that accompany the mourner. I get it in a real way today ...

Overall, I'm doing okay ... most days I can do what needs to be done, and face the world ... but some days I feel more like crawling into bed and letting the world pass me by.

There is seldom a day that goes by wherein I don't think of Mom, Scott, Mr Baumbach, Indigo, and how much I miss each of them ... it's been a hard year thus far ... but I also trust AND BELIEVE that it will get better. Such is the promise of the Resurrection!

Frequently I find myself lapsing into silence ... preferring to just stand present in the moment and let both the past and the future go ... instead of experiencing the acuteness of missing my family, I find myself surrounded by thoughts and memories of the journeys we've shared, and the happenings that marked our lives together, and in spite of my sorrow I can smile and remember ...

As one of my favourite funeral readings reminds us: memory is a powerful thing ... those we remember are never really gone, their presence is still felt among us ...

Most of my days lately are taken up trying to keep up with work, life, and family ... and scattered throughout the day are memories and their powerful recollection of lost loved ones who are gone, but not really forgotten ...

As Forrest Gump would say (for the moment) "that's all I have to say about that!"

Dayenu!

They are heroes in life not death ...

2011-06-28T23:12:00.004-04:00

The news today is filled with the story of a 32 year old Police Officer who was dragged to his death in York Region by a 15 year old driving a mini-van.

The fallen officer leaves a wife and two young children ...

The story hit a nerve ...

It was forty three years ago today that my dad, Constable Sam Ankenmann put on his uniform and left for work. He was working nights.

A family friend has told me that his last memory of Dad was looking through the front window of our living room and spying Dad sleeping in the chair with me nestled on his chest. Rob was playing with Scott on the front porch and shortly after peeking through the window he was called home ... Dad put me in my crib, then headed for work ...

He never came home. Instead in the early morning hours of June 29th 1968, his fellow officer raced to the accident scene, and tried in vain to save his life ... later they would inform Mom and our family ... and 43 years later it still hurts to think about that horrible day ...

Waking this morning to the news that an officer had fallen on duty reminded me that in moments like this we are ALL family, and the fallen are heroes in life, not death.

My thoughts and prayers for the family and comrades of the fallen officer ... they are on a long and lonely journey ... but fortunately, they are not alone!

Back in the Game !!!

2011-05-31T12:33:00.003-04:00

I'll be the first to admit that my interest in Fair Trade Coffee is motivated by a selfish desire to have GOOD coffee every morning.

Instead of having to shlep to the grocery store to buy coffee from thier meagre selection of fair trade and organic coffees, I like to help introduce new coffees and teas to the local community through our Church. It means I get easy access to good coffee, and the local congregations get the benefit of making a few extra dollars from the sales and promotion of Fair Trade Coffee.

Here in Flesherton, I've had an interesting and startling experience with the introduction of Fair Trade Products ... not only have they sold well within the congregation, the Council decided that they should use the promotion of Fair Trade as a means of reaching out into the community and
promoting our Congregations while promoting the FT products.

The work to get a booth in the local farmer's market was done by Council Members, and the folks who volunteer each week to man the booth and promote the product are a cross-section of our Faith Community, and highlight the enthusiasm that both Eugenia and St John's United Churches have in abundance.

So, today I not only have ready access to a fine cup of coffee each and every morning, I think we are standing on the verge of something amazing when I look at the potential and possibilities of this outreach project with the good folks of the Flesherton Pastoral Charge. Today the promotion of Fair Trade Coffee, Tea, Sugar, Fruit and Chocolate is about more than just the products, it's about telling the local community that we're alive and well and continuing to share our life and ministry with our community and the world !!!

The folks in Flesherton are enthusiastic about changing the world one cup of coffee at a time, and it feels GREAT to be sharing this journey with them !!!

Introducing the Orchestra's Newest Member ...

2011-05-31T12:28:00.002-04:00

Last week Ms H. arrived back home from a walk with a tiny kitten tucked in her arms ... since then we've nurtured, feed and cared for this wee one ... and she's become a member of the menagerie that shares our home ...

we're still working on a name for her, but the most recent suggestion has been "Clara" short for "Clarinet" ... afterall, with Flute taking on the role of her 'momma' and Oboe being the playful big brother, another orchestra name seems appropriate.

New Resources in an age old battle ...

2011-05-31T12:03:00.002-04:00

The weather outside is frightful ... not cold and snowy, but hot and VERY muggy ... so, with the ceiling fans and central air doing their job to keep the house comfie, my plans for the day don't involve much beyond resting, doing some crossword puzzles and catching up on some reading.

The reading was given a boost when this morning's mail contained a parcel of books and resources ordered YESTERDAY from the United Church Resource Distribution Centre in TO. I know they are efficent and fast - but really, I couldn't have driven down and picked it up any fast - OR CHEAPER !!!

So, today is going to focus on reading the book pictured above, a couple of Reginald Bibby's latests works, and a book by former UCC Moderator Bill Phipps called "Cause for Hope."

The one aspect of this however, is the fact that the books on homelessness, poverty and the urgent need for National policies on food, housing, poverty and homelessness were ALL in the clearance section of the UCRD web page !!

It saddens me to consider that the urgent need of facing and addressing poverty is by and large irrelevant to the Largest Protestant Denomination in the land ... the United Church of Canada has long been on the forefront of Social Justice issues in Canada, and yet given the dramatic increase in poverty rates, usage of food banks and soup kitchens, and the startling spike in demand for homeless shelter beds, the UCC is strangely quiet about this ...

Admittedly, many congregations like those of Eugenia and St John's are busy dealing with the local issue of hunger, poverty and housing through ongoing partnerships with other churches and community groups, but the leadership of our Church has fallen silent about this urgent and very relevant issue.

Homelessness and poverty are about to get worse with a Conservative Majority in Ottawa, and if Ontario takes the expected swing to the right that this fall's election seems to be prophecying, the return of Harris-like policies will only further exacerabate a pre-existing problem ... and yet, the United Church of Canada remains strangely quiet ...

Having needed to use a Food Bank while working a dozen part time jobs, I have a definite sensitivity to this issue ... and knowing that the numbers continue to indicate that the 'problem' of poverty, hunger and homelessness is getting worse NOT better - I think it's time to break the silence and begin to speak up and speak out about a problem that is entirely solvable.

Canada needs a National Housing Policy that makes adequate, safe and AFFORDABLE housing a right NOT a privilege.

Canada needs a National Food Policy that protects our domestic food production while ensuring EVERYONE has access to adequate, safe and affordable food.

Canada needs to address the issues that lead to poverty, hunger and homelessness - and the ONLY way that can happen is if people become aware and knowledgable about this, and no longer accept silence as the status quo response.

I am fortunate to have worked with Food Banks and Soup Kitchens in a variety of capacities including NEEDING them ... those experiences have left an indelibable impression on me and on my view of the world ... stay tuned ... this WILL NOT be the last time I speak out and speak up about these issues ...

The Church is about transformation ... and our faith calls us to care for 'the least of these my sisters and brothers' ... Can is seriously be ANY clearer or more straight forward than this??

Time to change the world ... who's with me ???

New Sermons ...

2011-05-24T13:50:00.002-04:00

Today is a day for playing a bit of catch up ... I've ordered coffee and tea for our fair trade booth at the Flesherton Farmers' Market, and now I'm trying to get caught up on the online presence of the Pastoral Charge by updating our web page and our blog ...

SO, over at the blog: "United Church in the Grey Highlands" I've posted the most recent sermons and services ... I'll get the web page updated soon ...

Just wanted to let everyone know !!!

Tis Dandelion Season !!!

2011-05-19T12:46:00.002-04:00

To some they are annoying and obnoxious weeds ... to others they are simply a plant ... and to still others, they are an amazing piece of creation that offers a myriad of possibilities and potentials ranging from medicine, to food through to wine ... and every spring the ubiquitious dandelion offers its beauty and its potential in unimaginable profusion ...

I have frequently preached on the usefulness of this so-called weed, and noted that it is one of the most useful and versatile plants on the plant. A search for using dandelions will reveal hundreds upon hundreds of suggestions, and the litany of what this simple plant is good for, is fairly long and extensive.

But to me, the full beauty of the dandelion comes when a fist full of the brilliant yellow flowers is offered with a smile. As a friend noted earlier this morning: you would have to be pretty hard hearted not to see the beauty in THAT!!

Reminders ...

2011-05-19T12:43:00.002-04:00

Today I was clearing away stuff from my desk when I found a note sent a couple of years ago from Indigo Sweetwater ... it brought a smile to my face and a tear to my eye ... it was a reminder of wonderful friend, and the profound and lasting impact she has had on the world, her family and the broad circle of folks privileged to call her FRIEND.

Haven't been blogging lately ...

2011-05-11T12:24:00.002-04:00

It has been a long winter and spring ... losing mom, then my brother, and having to deal with all that their deaths have entailed have left me exhausted ... trying to keep working while balancing my grief journey, supporting my kids and trying to just keep up has left me a couple of miles past exhausted ...

I've only just begun reading again after a six plus month hiatus ...

I wish I could offer some profound bit of wisdom, but right now I find myself moving through the day taking each step as it comes, and facing whatever the day might bring ... I'm tired ... I know it's not much of an excuse, but it's the main reason I haven't been blogging ... I've been thinking about life, the universe and everything, but when I finally get time to sit down at a keyboard, I end up playing a couple of facebook games, checking my emails, seeing what's new in the world, then I'm done ...

I want to blog ... but ...

In time it will come ... I've been reading the latest Reginald Bibby, the latest by Tim Huff, and some other material on the current state of the church ... I've been thinking about how to better utilize online resources for the work and ministry of the Church ... but mostly, I've been moving through my days one step at a time.

This past weekend we gathered in Lingelbach Cemetery to lay to rest Mom and Scott beside Dad ... Scott was cremated and his urn was placed in Mom's arms and together they were placed beside Dad ... it was a hard day emotionally, but it was a good way to say our good byes. The gathering of friends and family out at the Bush helped to celebrate the lives of both Mom and Scott in a wonderful and relaxed way ... I could picture Scott standing on the balcony of the shop, a bottle of Crystal in hand, smiling as everyone shared stories ... and Mom was sitting by the front door of the shop in the lawn chair she long ago claimed as "mine", claiming one last time the role of elder statesman for the Elliot clan, as they gathered with almost everyone there for the first time in 20 years ... if the First People of Bella Coola are to be believed (and there is no reason to doubt them), in the warm shadows ALL around lurked the spirits of my Grandparents, my uncles, and my, cousins who have gone ahead of us to the Spirit World.

As Uma once told me over tea - "they are only as far away as the next breath and as close as the wind on our cheeks."

They might be gone ... but they are not forgotten ...

Miscommunication ...

2011-05-11T12:17:00.003-04:00

I've worn this button for quite awhile ... I've had positive comments about it, and I've had funny looks offered because of it, but last week I had a first because of it ...

I went into one of the local stores to grab a cup of coffee along the way. The Asian owner looked at my button then said with a glare - "what's your problem with hunters?"

"Pardon?" I replied very confused ...

"Hunters!!" He said quite emphatically, "why don't you like hunters?"

"Um ..." I wasn't sure what he meant and obviously looked very very very confused.

"Your button," he said pointing, "why don't you like hunters?"

"Hunters?" I said as I pulled my button up to look at it ... as I re-read the lettering he did too ...

"OH, Hunger !!" he said relieved, "I thought it said "no hunter" ... I wonder if you're a bit crazy wearing that around here ..." He then smiled and laughed then as he handed me my coffee he added, "you do like hunters don't you?"

"Oh yeah, I don't mind hunters," I said laughing, "and if they offer me some venison once in a while I like them even more."

The Rule of Three ... inspiration from the small things ...

2011-04-27T13:53:00.002-04:00

I operate with the rule of three ... that is, if in my reading and my journeying I encounter three distinct and different references to an author or a book, I will go and look it up and see what the Spirit is guiding me to ...

A couple of weeks ago, after hearing about the death of my friend and mentor Indigo, I went to a bookstore in Owen Sound and said the prayer - "okay Lord, give me something to help bring healing to my soul ..." I then entered the store and trusted in the "rule of three", afterall, three is a good Biblical and Theological number, and to be honest - thus far the 'rule of three' hasn't steered me wrong.

I left that day with a copy of Robert Pirsig's 'Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance".

I've read bits and pieces of Pirsig's book along the way ... a few quotations here and there, and a couple of chapters while in Religious Studies at McMaster ... but I've never read the book in its entirety. So, it was a leap of faith to see what the Spirit is guiding me towards with this latest revealing of the 'rule of three'.

This morning visiting over coffee I began to appreciate what the lesson from Pirsig is ...

It's being open to experiencing and celebrating the Holy as found in the small things. It's not a new lesson for me, and it is admittedly one that I have frequently woven into my writings and preaching, but it is nonetheless a lesson worth re-visiting once in awhile.

Often in life we get caught up in the rat race, and the grappling for position and so on, that we forget to enjoy the moment we're standing in. The lesson for me in this, is to realize that the moments that might alter our world view, our life trajectory, or our way of approaching life and faith, are not moments that we can easily identify as they are happening. Sometimes the most earth-shattering moments in our lives are identifiable ONLY in hind-sight.

Today I realize that what I miss most about my mom and my brother are the little things ... gestures, facial expressions, and even habits that might pass un-noticed, until the life that embraced them is gone ... then the little things become significant.

Likewise, as we move through life, we meet and cross paths with dozens of people every week, and once in a while as we look back in life, we realize that a seemingly incidental moment of interaction may radically alter the direction of our forward momentum ... when we look back and consider that moment, perhaps months and months later, we can see then how important it was. But as the interaction unfolded, we might be in a very different place, and may fail to see how significant this moment really is.

Pirsig took a simple motorcycle trip and turned it into a profound literary work that has touched hundreds of thousands of other lives ... but I doubt, as he kick started his bike that first day, that he envisioned the impact he was about to bring into being ... and that may be the point ... we just don't know what is happening around us that will be important and earth shattering, and what might be insignificant and forgettable, and too often in the moment we confuse the two. Perhaps we would be better off, living and savouring and enjoying the moment and letting the value be determined later ...

If you read ONE book this year - make it this one !!

2011-04-26T09:25:00.005-04:00

Canadian author, activist and theologian Tim Huff is no stranger to this blog ... I have used his previous books frequently in book in my preaching, and in my reflections on our call to social justice and social action.

Through the Advent Season, I had two sermons (December 5th and December 12th) that made mention of his reflections offered in his previous book "Bent Hope".

Earlier, while I worked for the Brandon Homelessness Committee in Brandon, I met Tim on two occassions. Once in Brandon when he came as keynote speaker at the Youth For Christ annual banquet, and the second time when he was one of participants and presenters at the StreetLevel conference in Ottawa. Both times I was struck by the earthiness of his reflections and the profound depth of his theology which is forged in the shadowy corners of the urban streets where Tim lives and embraces his ministry where angels and 'good' church people might fear to tread.

Tim says it like it is, and challenges his readers to re-consider some of our long held notions about society, poverty, church and everything that these entail.

By sharing the stories of those folks he has met along the way, Tim offers a Gospel-based reflection on how we can live our faith day to day beyond the comfort of our Churches and pews. Both 'Bent Hope' and this new book 'Dancing with Dynamite' are rich sources of material for preaching, reflection and more importantly spiritual meditation.

Tim's words offer simple, powerful and profound challenges to the reader. As I read his words through the journey of Holy Week, I couldn't help but smile at the thought that like Jesus himself, Tim is taking simple every day examples to illustrate and highlight the calling of faith we share. From the hard streets of Toronto Tim speaks a truth about living and sharing our faith beyond our familiar and comfortable pews ... Tim wants us to remember those who live and lurk in the shadowy places, and who need to hear the Gospel, and have their bellies, minds, hearts and souls fed physically and spiritually.

Like the prophets of old, who came down out of the mountains shouting "Thus says the Lord," Tim steps up and using the uncomfortable reality of streets we would otherwise ignore manages to proclaim the prophetic voice of old, while whispering a contemporary challenge: "What would Jesus do?"

If you read only ONE book this year, I recommend HIGHLY "Dancing with Dynamite" by Toronto author Tim Huff ... you won't be disappointed !

Blogger Connections ...

2011-04-19T21:49:00.005-04:00

Today, I had lunch in Toronto with a new friend that I met via facebook thanks to my friendship with Pastor Blake, the brilliant mind behind one of my favourite Blogs. The Laughing Pastor was first pointed out to me by a Congregant who claimed I was writing it under an assumed name ... over the last few years Blake has wrestled with some big issues, and continued to live and preach a message of joy and laughter that stands boldly in the dark places of our world and proclaims the certainty that not only is God present, but God pours out abundant and joy-filled grace upon us without hesitation!!

Though we've yet to meet in person, I consider Pastor Blake a good friend ... we've spoken via email, texts, and phone calls ... we've travelled a road with many twists and turns, and more than a few ups and downs ... along the way, he's inspired me, challenged me, and left me laughing inspite of tears that have come ...

Today I sat down with a long time friend of Blake's who was visiting Toronto and wanted to meet for lunch ... over lunch Bonnie presented me with a beautiful Cross made in Mexico and bought as a gift to me from my friend and fellow blogger Blake!!

Over our meal we talked about life and recent deaths we've both experienced, the challenges facing the Church and ourselves, and we as we talked, I realized how small a planet we inhabit ... we truly live in a global village which gets smaller with each new technology ... today, the Church has the potential to engage in new forms of ministry using those technologies if it can overcome the fear that accompanies the arrival of something new ...

Today, in addition to being appreciative of having folks like Blake and Bonnie as friends, I also appreciate being in a place with people who value and actively encourage the use of Blogs, Facebooks, Web Pages and other new technologies to help spread the Word !! Over a Century ago, the building housing St John's United Church was opened by Egerton Ryerson himself, and since I learned that, I have wondered why ... maybe today the answer is being revealed ... the innovator, Ryerson wanted to lay his 'blessing' on a church community that would not only survive may set backs and challenges, but would prosper in the face of adversity, and would then live the Resurrection by BOLDLY and COURAGEOUSLY explore new ways and means of BEING CHURCH !!

They say 'the proof is in the pudding' ... today I think a taste revealed the pudding to be sweet indeed !!!

THANKS BLAKE, for your friendship and for the inspiration you continue to share!!

My Dad !!

2011-04-18T19:59:00.003-04:00

More oldies turned up tonight in an old box of OLD, OLD, photos ... fun to see dad in new and wonderful ways !!

A December Wedding ... 1953, Lingelbach EUB Church

2011-04-18T19:55:00.005-04:00

Was looking through a box of old photos and unearthed these ... from mom and dad's wedding on December 19th 1953 at Lingelbach EUB Church and The Fryfogel Inn, both on 7&8 Hwy between Shakespeare and New Hamburg.

The Prophetic and the Comedic ...

2011-04-18T13:27:00.003-04:00

In his auto-biography "Last Words" the late George Carlin quoted himself from an interview in the Los Angeles Herald-Examiner where he noted the role of the comic as a "potential social critic, a philosopher and an evangelist."

As I read those words on the eve of Holy Week, I found myself thinking about the many comics who have inadvertently shaped my ministry and my view of the world ... the list is quite long, but some of the individuals who figure prominently include Carlin, John Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Canada's own Rick Mercer, and the late, great and largely unparalleled Bill Hicks.

These folks have the courage and the ability to address issues that mainstream commentators are reluctant to even acknowledge much less poke fun at ... Over and over, I find meaning and direction in the 'comedy' of folks like Carlin, Hicks and the others ... they hold up the sacred cows of our culture, our religion, and our society and ask the tough questions we might otherwise be afraid to ask.

The end result is, while we're laughing we suddenly have the realization that we are laughing most heartily at ourselves ... and that is both enlightening and uncomfortable simultaneously.

This Holy Week, I think a revisit of the dvd of Dogma which stars Carlin in the role of Cardinal Glick, might be in order ... and in the coming weeks having the courage to speak and reflect prophetically with the guidance and inspiration of people like Bill Hicks, George Carlin and other modern jesters who hold an uncomfortable mirror up before us would be apt ...

Today I will say clearly that the church ignores the prophetic and the comedic at its peril.

Today's wish ...

2011-04-11T15:39:00.002-04:00

I wish ...

I wish I could pick up the phone and tell my mom, my brother and Indigo about the wild dream I just had ...

I wish ...

I wish I could hear their voices and discover that the last few months have been nothing more than a bad dream ...

I wish ...

Indigo Sweetwater: like the ripples in a pond ...

2011-04-11T15:09:00.004-04:00

It's funny, in almost 20 years of ordained ministry, I have presided over dozens of memorial and funeral services ranging from the very young, to the very old, and every age in between ... Over and over, I've been struck by the breadth of impact each life has had regardless of its length.

People who have lived into a second century leave a profound legacy of family, and friends to truly celebrate their lives and give thanks for the many years they've had together.

Families who have bid adieu to young ones, gather to mourn the loss of what might have been, but simultaneously to affirm the preciousness of what has already been.

Regardless of the length we spend upon this planet, we touch the lives of those who we chose to surround ourselves with. We are, like a Jewish writer once observed, the very finger prints of God, leaving our impressions upon every surface we touch, even if that touch is simply fleeting.

This week, I've been amazed at the tributes to my friend Indigo Sweetwater, who passed away too suddenly, and too soon from a recurrence of cancer. At first I felt a pang of jealousy at the tributes being offered by people who openly lamented "I never met her in person, but ..." But then, I realized that there was more than enough of Indigo to go around.

She was truly a person who was larger than life ... her passions and enthusiasms knew NO BOUNDS, and her interests lead her to some absolutely fascinating places both in the real world and in cyber-space. AND, wherever she went she left an indelible impression on the lives of those she touched.

It brought laughter and tears to my eyes to hear about her "parcels" sent unannounced to her new-found friends. I recalled a time when our post man came walking up to our front door with a small blue and cream coloured suit case in hand. I opened the door to meet him and asked:

"You moving in?"

With a stern face, perhaps to keep from laughing, he handed me the suitcase with a terse, "Um, no ..." then he shook his head and walked away.

It was of course a parcel from Indigo to the kids ... and, it was a scenario that was played out again a few short months later when a small green suitcase arrived in the same way.

And then there was the globe: taped, labelled, and stuffed FULL of treasures gleaned from her travels ... rubber maid tubs sent by bus and labelled with some picturesque paper doing far more than simply listing the 'to' and 'from' ... over and over, parcels bursting with 'treasures' arrived unexpectedly - usually when Indigo sensed you just needed a pick me up - and the phone call to thank her was punctuated by her uproarious laughter as you recounted the tale of arrival.

I think the heartiest laughter though came when she was told about the arrival of the first suitcase ...

Along the way, Indigo also helped teach and affirm some important life lessons. The loss of her young son many years ago forged a compassionate heart that knew life could be cruel sometimes ... The counsel I remember most clearly from her was the repeated affirmation that we should never engage in the folly of 'the woulda, shoulda, coulda's'.

"Look forward" was the advice she offered, usually after listening to the inevitable rant I could offer ... "look forward" and "stop dwelling on the past" she would say with a dismissiveness that was anything but dismissive.

She knew the journey well ... and she wasn't afraid to tell you when you'd wandered off the path and were wallowing in some bramble filled pit of despair.

But she ALWAYS did it with a love that embraced and enveloped you ... it was just the way she was.

The bottom line was that Indigo really didn't care whether you liked her or not. She liked herself, and she liked you and the rest was truly and utterly IRRELEVANT. Take her or leave her, she didn't care - she'd be there when you smartened up and came back ... and she'd accept you like you'd never left (unless of course you really pissed her off ... thankfully I never fell afoul of her in that way!!).

I will also dearly miss the annual Birthday parcels and prezzies that have arrived over the last decade and a half since I first met Indigo and learned that we shared a common Scorpio Birthday on October 31st ... this year just won't be the same without her around!!

Today, I've had some time to think about what losing Indigo means in my life, and have come to realize that even though she is gone from this physical plane, she now remains a formidable force in the lives of those who knew her on a spiritual plane ... she embodies the teachings the Nuxalkmc elders offered over tea in the CE Hall of the old Emmanuel Church almost two decades ago when they said "when we die, we join the Spirit World, which is as far away as our next breath and as close as the wind on our cheeks!!"

Today, Indigo has returned to the energy that is the cosmos, but like ripples on a pond her influence and impact is still felt among those of us truly blessed to have called her a friend, either in person, or from a distant (to Indigo a friend was a friend and that was ALL that mattered).

While our loss pales in comparison to her partner and spouse David and her beloved and cherished adult son Yancey, together we mourn and celebrate a remarkable woman, an amazing friend, and a potent force for ALL the good that life has to offer.

Thanks for gracing my life, and that of my family with your friendship Auntie Indigo - we will never forget you, and we will never stop loving you !!

We know you aren't very far away ... Shalom!!

To read another beautiful and eloquent tribute to Indigo click here to visit the Blog "The Adventures of Matt, Kara, Hunter and Cavan in Faro Yukon"

Today ... a step towards equilibrium ...

2011-04-11T14:54:00.003-04:00

I started it on Saturday after my "shopping trip" with Ms H and three of her friends to Toronto ... to be clear, it wasn't really a shopping trip for me, it was more like that school trips that leave a bus driver to fend for themselves somewhere while the kids are having fun. I was the bus driver, and Yorkdale Mall was the desitination ... fortunately, the book store, food court and electronic stores had more than enough to keep me busy while Ms H and her posse roamed the mall.

Along the way, I browsed some books in the bargain section, checked out the latest summer reading, perused the various titles in the religion, spirituality and new age sections, and then bought a couple of paperbacks in the hope I might be able to regain my lost hobby ...

It has been MONTHS since I read more than a few pages of anything ... even newspaper articles have been a chore ... I find that I read a page in a book, then look back and wonder "what did I just read?" and find the page I JUST READ unfamiliar ... If I can't read a page, how could I expect to read a whole chapter, much less an entire book???

I've missed reading.

A LOT.

My pile of 'to read' books has grown beyond a single pile, and the list of titles hasn't managed to entice me beyond idly flipping through them from time to time ... I've even tried to INTENTIONALLY sit down and start reading to no avail ... but somehow, something changed this weekend, and I FINALLY was able to not only read more than a few paragraphs, but entire chapters, and then this morning, just before lunch I FINISHED the modest paperback I had bought on Saturday !!

It felt good to close the book and put it on the table knowing I had actually read it.

It was and is the first book I've read in its entirety since October 27th 2010, when I finished the latest Kathy Reich murder mystery novel ...

Today I feel like I've taken a significant step toward some modicum of normalcy !!

... and it feels great !!!

Savouring a Sabbath ...

2011-04-10T14:04:00.002-04:00

Today started grey and VERY rainy ... as I laid in bed with the window open, the 'whoosh' of the occassional car or truck passing was actually quite soothing ... the pitter patter of the rain outside gave a relaxing pulse to the start of the day.

I lounged in bed and for the first time in weeks, actually was able to read more than a few pages of a book ... after the second chapter, I decided to make some coffee and more fully enjoy my day off ...

I wish I could offer something earth shattering, but today is all about just lounging around and simply enjoying a lazy day at home ...

The rain has stopped (for now) and the sun is trying to shine ... the dogs are sleeping ... and the house is relatively quiet ... all in all, it's a good Sabbath rest ... and it is what I need right now ...

A good read ... a better calling !!

2011-04-08T10:30:00.006-04:00

I started this blog on Thursday January 19th 2006, after having blogged on the old United Online web site ... my intent when I started the Prairie Preacher was to explore the ways in which the Church can offer its ministry in new forms ... to my thinking then, and now, the internet and the many online resources from Twitter to Facebook have vast untapped potential as places to engage and share in our life and ministry as people, clergy and Church.

My intent when I started Prairie Preacher was to share the happenings in my life, to provide a place for my family to keep up on the things Noahkila, Ms H, and Beetle are up to, and to show a different face of the Church that removes the silly deification that places clergy on an ivory pedestal. I wanted Prairie Preacher to be a place where real issues were raised and discussed, a place where real happenings are laid on the table and reflected upon and most importantly, where the truth about the Church was offered in an honest, upfront and unblinking way.

Along the way, I've struggled with my vocational calling, we've journeyed into the darkness that came following the Church fire in Minnedosa, I've moved twice, been fired once, experienced the rejection of the Church writ large, worked in another denomination, worked outside of the church, and struggled with real life issues including the deaths of my mother, my brother, and now two close friends ... Prairie Preacher, has over the last five years been my sanctuary and my refuge where I've been able to wrestle honestly and openly and perhaps most significantly, UNAPOLOGETICALLY with the real life issues and struggles I've encountered along the way.

Looking back, there are some posts here that I am deeply proud of, a few I am in retrospect slightly embarrassed by, and a couple that I have pulled after further reflection and feedback from trusted friends. But what strikes me most of all, as I looked back on the last four months since mom's death on January 11th, and my subsequent silence here, is the importance that Prairie Preacher has played in my journey ...

In those moments when I've considered shutting this blog down, or when I've found myself struggling to put into words what I've been feeling and experiencing, I find comfort in the legacy that this site has embodied. I can go back and re-read postings from my past, and see in a tangible way how much healing and growth I've experienced. I can read the comments of friends and strangers and see clearly the support I've had, and the importance of continuing to speak up and speak out about issues that otherwise would linger at the margins of our collective consciousness.

This week, as I began reading the book pictured above, I became aware of how appropriate the simple choice of the word 'preacher' in my blog title was ... Over and over Lischer stresses the importance of Clergy reclaiming the VOCATION of preacher in their work. More than just part of the work we are called to do and share, PREACHING is central to everything we are about in ministry.

Preaching means taking the Gospel and sharing it by word and deed with the world around us. Preaching means wrestling with the real life issues of our world and our lives, and making sense of God's calling within that context. Preaching means speaking up and speaking out, even when the world and the bureaucracy demands acquiescence and silence. Preaching means more than standing up in a pulpit and sharing a warm pink fuzzy theology.

Preaching is the very heart of what we, as ministers are called to do and be. And looking back, this blog, has over the last five years engaged in a preaching that has moved through some deep and dark moments of life ... a preaching that has tried to offer an honest and unrelenting critical reflection of the Church and its ministry in the modern world and encouraged a rethink of who and what we are.

The very future of the Church depends on the willingness of clergy and lay leaders to wrestle with the perception of hypocrisy and irrelevancy held by many who no longer darken the doors our physical buildings, yet hunger for something spiritual ... they want to hear honesty and openness from the Church, and they want to know that their concerns are not only heard, but heeded and that the Church takes seriously its call to PREACH the Gospel in its fullness.

Lischer is one of those who gets this calling, and he wants others to get it too. Five years ago, I started blogging because I for one, take seriously the need for the Church to reach out to the margins of our society where this calling needs to be offered most urgently.

Preaching the Gospel to the margins means dealing honestly and openly with the bullshit that has sadly been too much a part of the Church in recent years, and I for one have come to realize the importance of actively engaging in that form of preaching, and this place -this blog has been one means of embodying that ministry of preaching, and for that I will be neither ashamed, repentant nor intimidated. This is my place, my voice, and my preaching.

And the journey continues ...

Found Treasures ...

2011-04-07T22:47:00.003-04:00

One of the hardest things I've had to do lately is the process of sorting and cleaning at mom's ... with almost fifty years of accumulated mementos, treasures and trash ... it is a long process that had barely began when Scott died suddenly, and that has been complicated by his passing ... Every time I step in the door, I not only have to wrestle with the memories and legacy of Mom, I now feel Scott's presence too, and have to deal with things that for 40 years were off limits ...

Every time I pick up something in Scott's room, I hear his voice in my ear: "what the hell are you doing?" ... then I feel a wave of guilt that I'm touching my big brothers stuff, and sooner or later I'm gonna get pounded for it ... old patterns die hard, and for the first twenty years of my life the cat and mouse game of touching, borrowing and retrieving one another's possessions usually resulted in me getting a 'brotherly beatin' ... one Scott would maintain I deserved.

The last few visits to Mom's has been harder because my sorting is now reaching back into my childhood and Scott's ... I'm find the toys and mementos from our childhood ... a drawer of matchbox and hot wheels cars that I dared to 'borrow' now sits forlorn with Scott's absence ... the stuffed animals that were once filled with life through our play recalls Scott, Mom and their creator Grandma Ankenmann ... the drawings and cards we gave one another recall a simpler time when life glowed with love and seemingly limitless potential ... over and over I find myself revisiting a time and place before the stormy perils of adulthood broke over us and battered us and our lives ... a simpler time when Mom's word was law (backed up by the wooden spoon on top of the fridge) and Scott was my big brother who and would readily pound me for infractions perceived and sometimes real, and yet filled me with respect and awe ...

Over and over I find myself recalling the many moments that helped forge me into the man I am today ... some good ... some not so good ... but all of them cherished recollections that are part of my heritage and history and my present reality ...

Today I had to pause when I discovered tucked in the back of a closet my baby shoes, my first little red slippers, and a card from the Ladies Group at the now defunct Lingelbach United Church (or as it was called then Lingelbach EUB Church) celebrating my safe arrival, along with a Centennial Dollar Bill ... over and over I find myself smiling with tears in my eyes at the many treasures I keep uncovering in my personal archeological dig ... mom's house is full of memories and mementos ... and each time I make the drive and spend a few hours exploring them, I reconnect with my past and reacquaint myself with my family story ... and as hard as it is, it is good!

mom would insist that we should just get along ...

Open the flood gates ...

2011-04-06T16:20:00.003-04:00

Hmmm ... I can point to a dozen or more cars and trucks in this picture and tell you what kind it is, whether it is a hot wheels or a matchbox, and whether I or my brother had it ... and I might be able to tell you EXACTLY where it is right now ... such is the legacy of our childhood and the many hours we both spent playing with our matchbox, hot wheels, corgi and other cars along with our lego cities ...

Neither Scott or I really left our hot wheels behind ... Scott amassed an impressive and formidable collection in the years since we left our childhood behind. The dozens of tiny cars and trucks still on their cardboard backings may represent an wise investment on his part.

Today though, as I was wondering through a Zellers store, finding myself in the aisle lined with dozens upon dozens of these little cars left me teary-eyed ... for the last twenty years or so, every time I found myself in front of the hot wheels display I would look for interesting cars that I could buy for myself, or buy to send to Scott. Over the years the kids and I have sent many cars to Uncle Scott for his birthday and for Christmas ...

Today as I stood in front of the display I found myself crying ... learning about Indigo's untimely passing contributed to my feelings, but I know it was simply a natural extension of ALL I've been through ... and I don't really care ... sometimes when tears come, you just have to let them flow, and today standing in front of the hot wheels display was one of those moments ...

Good Bye my friend ...

2011-04-06T15:58:00.003-04:00

Today started with a "disturbance in the force" for lack of a better word ... I wanted to go to Stratford but something was telling me not to go ... so, I went and got a coffee and drove to Owen Sound instead ... I stopped to chat with a colleague and friend along the way, and as I got back into the car I got a text telling me that Indigo Sweetwater, a friend, a mentor and an incredible person had died ...

Indigo and I didn't always see eye to eye, and her propensity to tell it like she saw it, and say what was on her mind regardless of the consequences was at times uncomfortable, but her counsel was always timely, seldom wrong and usually ignored at one's peril ... she was above all else and amazing friend.

My strongest memory of her was from our time in Bella Coola while she was serving as the community health nurse on reserve ... she would stroll in the back door with panache saying I'm here for lunch darling!! What are we having?"

That was how Indigo lived her life ... on her terms, and without apology. And you had to love her for it ... actually you didn't have to love her for it ... she didn't care one way or another - she didn't care if you liked her or not ... she liked herself and that was ALL she needed ... that and her family, especially her partner David ... who is missing her terribly today.

I can't even begin to put into words the sorrow I feel today at learning that Indigo is gone ... on one level it simply adds to the losses I've experienced in recent weeks, but on another level, this is simply too much to bear ... Indigo was an amazing person, an awesome nurse, and an incredible friend ... she will be missed by her son Yancey, her partner David and a circle of friends that stretches far and wide ...

Rest in peace my friend ... today my tears are for you and the end of an incredible legacy that you've left those of us blessed to know and love you ... Good Bye Indigo - you WILL be missed !

For another tribute to this amazing woman -(click here) The Blog 'The House' has two entries about Indigo ...

Sermon for February 27th 2011 - Flesherton Pastoral Charge

2011-03-24T16:04:00.003-04:00

(Disciples – Ann Weems)

Hurting they came to him. Healed they followed him.

Grateful they gave to him what they had and what they were.

Blessed they became a blessing and went out into the world in his name.

Those who are hurt and healed, grateful and blessed,

still move among us in his name...

How do we experience God?

How do we experience God in the deep dark moments of our lives? And how is that different from how we experience God in the less deep dark moments of our lives?

Do we experience God differently in those moments, compared and contrasted with the other moments of our lives?

How do we describe God? What words do we use when we think or speak of God? What images do we call to mind when we try to articulate our faith?

Or, do we never put much thought into our faith, and our belief in God until we hit those deep dark moments that leave us reeling … and cause to wonder if there is even a God at all ?

They're tough question … but they are good questions to raise and reflect on periodically, because they help us to comprehend, understand and articulate our faith, not only when we face challenging moments, but when we are just merrily cruising through life and giving little thought to our faith, or to God at all …

A couple of weeks ago, a friend asked me is having a faith, and being in a place of leadership within the Church helps you deal with the kinds of happenings that have unfolded in my life recently … “Does it make it easier to face the grief?” she asked.

I thought about the answer and said - “not really ...” then went on to describe the one crucial difference that I think I've lived over the last few weeks … and that is the ability to articulate clearly the swirl of emotions and the ambivilance I really feel towards God at this time … I'm not left in a place where I am struggling to express feelings of outrage and abandonment … I not only get it, I can see throughout the history and heritage of the Church examples of people who had similar moments in their faith journey, and who were able to express those feelings without throwing up their hands and walking away …

I can draw from a well of images and ideas and experiences that move far beyond the idea of God as a bearded old man sitting on a throne somewhere nodding his head in “understanding” as all hell breaks loose in the lives of his followers … I can wrestle with the issues before me and pull the multitude of images and ideas of God that populate our Scriptures ranging from that bearded guy on a throne all the way through to God nestling us as new borns at her breast … being able to appreciate and express the experience of the divine in such broad and diverse images helps to feel God's presence in those deep dark moments when we feel utterly alone.

And, yet if you want to rile up a crowd in the Church start talking about God in images and genders that are not male, old, grey and bearded … people get down right ornery about such things. I've known of people stomping out of church, never to return because I've DARED to speak of God as Mother … as Sister … as something more than that bearded guy on the throne, and even though we have Scriptural references to these fabulous and powerful images of God that are so much more than the traditional notion of God as father, they were offended …

What saddens me most in that moment, is the failure to grasp the breadth and depth and profound power of God's presence in our lives that is conveyed and celebrated in those many images of God … in those deep dark moments, sometimes the 'safe' and 'comfortable' image of God as the bearded old guy on the throne, doesn't work, and we need to experience and articulate the Divine in other ways …

Jesus got this when we spoke of God … Jesus spoke of God in radical ways – not off the wall radical, but returning to the roots radical … the images Jesus used of God were not new, but rather reached back into the Scriptural traditions and reclaimed ideas and images that had been expressed centuries earlier.

When Jesus said to his disciples, “when you pray say ...” he offered them a prayer that began with the words - “Abba, Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name ...” Abba doesn't mean Father in a formal respectful way. It means Daddy … the itimate familiar term we use when we're referring to our father figure … Daddy who is in heaven … this is not some cold formal theological construct seperating us from God, but rather it is a close, intimate, and deeply familiar expression of God as someone inexplicably involved in our day to day lives … DADDY … MUMMY … whatever term we use for the bonds that give us life and meaning …

And, as Jesus spoke those words people were shocked and outraged … he was expressing an image of God that was disconcerting to those who wanted to hold power and protect God from the holy.

“How can you keep order when people are talking so casually about God?”

And that perhaps is the key … it's ALL about order and control. You can't control people and maintain order when everyone is talking about God in their own way, using metaphors and images that are meaningful ONLY to them … we can't bow in pray, or gather to worship if everyone has a different way of expressing their belief and faith in God.

Yet, that is exactly what Jesus was getting at … it's not about order and control, it's about experiencing FULLY the holy. Understanding and expressing our faith in the images and metaphors that speak to us and speak to ur experiences.

If the image of God as a mother holding her new born to breast and giving food and sustainence is meaningful to you – GREAT … if the idea of God being like a mother hen gathering her chicks under her wing speaks to you – awesome … if the notion that God is experienced in our lives like the hands of a potter gentling pulling the clay as it spins on the potter's wheel is what helps you move forward in life – that's wonderful … because not one of these images is the only representation or experience of God, but together we begin to understand, comprehend and experience God in more full and expressive ways.

This is the experience and understanding of God Jesus spoke of when he offered those words from today's Gospel reading … God cares about us as individuals … God cares about us as people … God cares about us as God's own children.

And if we're limited in our understanding of God to a bearded old man sitting on a throne far above our heads, how can we truly experience the fullness of God's love and care for us?

If we've limited ourselves to understanding God only in narrow and concise ways, how can we express and experience God when our encounters with the holy are outside and beyond those narrow definitions?

These past few weeks have not so much tested my faith, as tested my ability to express my faith and articulate my experience of the Holy in the events unfolding around me … I've wept … I've raged at God … I've found myself unable to say anything to God … and there have been moments when I've even doubted that God exists at all … yet, undergirding it all is an understanding, that God is those very things Jesus speaks of in our reading today.

God is about experiencing the holy, not arguing about how we express that experience.

God is about feeling loved and cared for no matter what is happening around us, not splitting hairs over which images and words we use.

God is about standing in a place where we can affirm and feel our role as a beloved child of God, rather than bickering over what concept of God we use to articulate and celebrate our relationship with God.

It's ultimately, not about the words or concepts at all … it's about HOW we experience and live the relationship we have with God in our day to day lives … it doesn't matter what words we use, or what concepts we call to mind. At the end of the day, the important thing is that we have God in our lives to begin with, and that we are able to convey and share that experience with others.

In the midst of the temptest that has enveloped me over the last few weeks, I had one of my friends comment at my ability to face all that was before me … “you are obviously much stronger than we realized” he quipped … as he reflected back on my childhood when I was regarded as the cry baby, and the suck, and the mommy's boy, and how that contrasts to what I've been embodying today, I realized that my ability to face what is before me right now – that perceived strength - rests entirely in my faith …

There have been many days in the last few weeks when I've gotten out of bed and put my feet on the floor, and simply put one foot in front of the other until my day ends and I crawl back into bed … For two decades I've been counselling people that sometimes ALL we can do is put one foot in front of the other, take one breath, live one moment, and keep moving forward … it's good advice … but it is hard advice to live when you're in the middle of those deep dark moments.

My strength over the last couple of months has come from two sources … the circle of friends and family who have been there through it all … and from my faith – my believe that no matter what is unfolding around me, no matter what storm is breaking over me, no matter how dark the night may be … we are not alone.

A few days before mom died, I mused on a quotation that has been very much part of my journey over the last few years – the quotation: “One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time ...- Andre Gide” has guided me through the events and happenings over the last six years. I ended my reflection by writing the words:

“Life is too short to take it too seriously ... sometimes we need to just let go and trust in God to see us through. The affirmation to that came this morning in my early morning devotional as I read a passage by Standish, who said it is vital for Churches to find themselves in a place where they simply trust in God, and live their faith as a VERB not a noun ... he cites an example of a Chruch stressed by budget concerns, and rather than calling a special meeting, or making a special appeal for funds, they opted instead to trust in God through prayer to see them through ... it worked.

Life is like that sometimes ... what we want, may not be what God wants for us, nor is what we need ... sometimes we need to simply let go and be present to the moment and leave the rest in the hands of God, our higher power, the cosmos, fate (whatever term you wish to use), and see what unfold ...”

A colleague cited these words as a prophetic vision of what I would need to face the long dark days that were ahead for me …

That may be true, but in this moment, where I stand the simple reality that aroses from this morning's readings is the realization that the words we use don't matter as much as the experience we seek to share with others …

In our faith journey, experiencing God, and being able to share that with others is more important than getting hung up on the dogmatic words and concepts that serve only to divide us from one another … Today we are called to live our faith, and to experience the verb God, rather than the noun!!

May it be so, thanks be to God … let us pray …

Sermon for February 20th 2011 - Flesherton Pastoral Charge

2011-03-24T15:59:00.001-04:00

This past week, I had a chat with a long time friend about things church and more specifically, the impact of Luther on the Christian Church ... Rob and I have been friends for all of my life – he grew up across the street from us, and was like an older brother to BOTH Scott and I, so when we sat down to lunch earlier this week, we talked about family and common experiences in and around our neighbourhood, then the talk turned to a series of class I took with he and his then new bride back almost 25 years ago.

They were membership classes for the Lutheran Church, and the pastor was a personable and very knowlegable man, who endured a lot with the presence of a United Church heretic in his midst for the 16 weeks ... but we survived, and I could technically have joined the Missouri Synod of the Lutheran Church after having taken these classes ... but instead, I stayed here in the United Church, and used what I learned to deepen my understanding of things Church.

What Rob and I recalled this past week was the impact that Luther had on the church – an impact that continues to reverberate throughout the Church to this very day ... Luther began his journey because he found the Gospel and the requirements of faith to be onerous and untenable ... Luther acknowledged that he was spending hours on his knees in confession, and even during confession found his mind wandering and sinning ... it struck his legalistic mind as odd that we were expected to be so removed from sin, that even the act of confessing our sins lead one to sin ... something wasn’t working ...

So, Luther began to study the Scriptures, and to read what they REALLY said, not what his professors, and his colleagues and his fellow monks said – but what the Scriptures said ... and as he read the words of Jesus, Paul, Moses and the others recorded in the Bible, he began to have serious questions about the disconnect between what he was reading, and what he was hearing preached from the pulpits of the Church ... and yet, no one wanted to hear, much less answer his questions ... yet Luther was nothing, if not persistent ... until on day at the Cathedral at Wittenburg, he nailed his 95 Theses – or questions to the Door and set off the Protestant Reformation ...

What has always struck me most about Luther, was his no nonsense and very common sense approach to life and church. In Rome on pilgrimage once, he was horrified to hear a priest conducting the Mass in Latin, and as he broke the bread for sharing amongst those gathered didn’t say “the body of Christ broken for you,” but rather said cynically – “bread you are, and bread you shall remain” – Luther was deeply offended not only at the offense offered to the eucharist, but he was also offended at the cynical hypocrisy of the priest who clearly didn’t believe the theology he was representing, and through the use of Latin was misleading the congregation ...

Interestingly though, some of Luther’s most candid and succinct expressions of faith came not in grand theological treatises, nor in his lectures and sermons, but rather when his students and followers sat down in a local tavern and over beer and beverages, discussed things theological, and Luther spoke frankly and often bluntly about things ... offering reflections and musings about life, the universe and everything – statements that some six centuries later remain concise expressions of taking this book (...) and applying it to life in the real world.

Where Rob and I headed in our discussion this past week, was in the need to reclaim some of Luther’s no-nonsense approach to things Church. Rob and I discussed the experiences we’ve both had in the church when the ‘way things are’ took precedence over being open to the will and the way of the spirit. Too often in the Church the rules and regulations and the dogma become the very reason for being, and the sharing and living of the Gospel is put safely under lock and key. For a Good Lutheran like Rob, such legalism is a bitter pill to swallow, because it is the very thing that Luther raged against when he began the Protestant Reformation.

Luther remembered the gift and the power of God’s grace, and shared that remembrance with the rest of us. For Luther the very fact that God offers unconditional and limitless Grace to us, was enough ... it doesn’t mean we have a carte blanche to go and do whatever we want, but rather, in response to God’s grace we will TRY hard to live a spirit guided life, and live according to the precepts of our faith ... but when we fail, and we will, we simply claim anew that gift of Grace through confession.

Regretably, in the generations that succeeded Luther, this freedom was curtailed ... the very thought that you could make confession and continue on your way, only to make a confession sometime in the future was unbearable to some ... so they imposed rules ... they set up expectations and regulations ... they hemmed in the gift of Grace by establishing legal boundaries and perameters to protect this precious gift of Grace ... and ironically, in the process, they began to recreate the very thing that Luther had so eloquently rejected ... God’s gift of Grace is free for the taking – anything else becomes a human construct that Luther repeatedly rejected.

The bottom line in Luther’s teaching is the realization that a close reading of the teachings of Paul and Jesus and others, reveals a movement towards a faith NOT based on legalism and imposed rules.

Our Gospel readings this morning, are evidence of this ... Jesus knew the legal requirements laid out centuries earlier by Moses at Sinai ... and instead of further underscoring them, and demanding more strigent observation of the LAW, he instead pointed out the value and the necessity of living those principles fully, and in the process envoking an active resistance to the legalism and the polictical machinations of the day, by living according to the tenents of our faith.

If a man slaps you on the cheek, give him your other cheek ... this is not just passivity – but is an active resistance to the one who would slap you. By turning your face and offering the other cheek, the aggressor (the one slapping you) would have to go through incredible contortions to slap your cheek ...

The slap to the cheek would be delivered with the back of his hand ... so to turn your face means he has to step it up a notch by slapping you with the palm of his hand – a NO NO in the culture of the day, or he has to use the left hand – the unclean hand – an even bigger NO NO in the culture of the day ... or he has to go through incredible contortions to whack you ... by simply turning the cheek you are moving the burden to the aggressor and limiting his ability to strike out ...

Likewise, each of the teachings we encountered this morning have a strong element of active resistance to the dominant culture of the day ... by using the legal expectations the oneous is placed on the agressor to avoid shame and uncleanliness and THEY are placed in the position of being embarrassed by their own actions ... if they want your coat, give them your robe also so that THEY are shamed by your nakedness ... if they want you to carry their pack for a mile, carry it a second mile, so they are shamed by your action ... if they want something, give it to them and give them more so they stand in a place of embarrassment and shame ...

It is a brilliant use of the law, to turn the law on its ear ... in the midst of the civil rights battles in the US, Martin Luther King used this same principal by building on what Gandhi had taught a generation earlier ... King noted:

I'm happy that he didn't say, "Like your enemies," because there are some people that I find it pretty difficult to like. Liking is an affectionate emotion, and I can't like anybody who would bomb my home. I can't like anybody who would exploit me. I can't like anybody who would trample over me with injustices. I can't like them. I can't like anybody who threatens to kill me day in and day out. But Jesus reminds us that love is greater than liking. Love is understanding, creative, redemptive good will toward all men. And I think this is where we are, as a people, in our struggle for racial justice. We can't ever give up. We must work passionately and unrelentingly for first-class citizenship. We must never let up in our determination to remove every vestige of segregation and discrimination from our nation, but we shall not in the process relinquish our privilege to love.

I've seen too much hate to want to hate, myself, and I've seen hate on the faces of too many sheriffs, too many white citizens' councilors, and too many Klansmen of the South to want to hate, myself; and every time I see it, I say to myself, hate is too great a burden to bear. Somehow we must be able to stand up before our most bitter opponents and say: "We shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure suffering. We will meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will and we will still love you. We cannot in all good conscience obey your unjust laws and abide by the unjust system, because non-cooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is cooperation with good, and so throw us in jail and we will still love you. Bomb our homes and threaten our children, and, as difficult as it is, we will still love you. Send your hooded perpetrators of violence into our communities at the midnight hour and drag us out on some wayside road and leave us half-dead as you beat us, and we will still love you. Send your propaganda agents around the country, and make it appear that we are not fit, culturally and otherwise, for integration, and we'll still love you. But be assured that we'll wear you down by our capacity to suffer, and one day we will win our freedom. We will not only win freedom for ourselves; we will so appeal to your heart and conscience that we will win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory."

Such is the power of active resistance – BY USING THE LAW creatively, the burden is shifted to the aggressor, and we stand in a place where the weakness of the legalism and the rules and the regulations are revealed for all to see.

Grace is NOT about legalism – Grace is about freedom. And freedom is lived when you stand in a place where Grace is embodied in every thought and every action ... where my initial conversation with my friend Rob went, was to a place of realization that folks like Luther, and ultimately Jesus come along to free us from the legalism that places the word of the law foremost ... they see, speak and embody a spirit of the law approach that values the relationship between us and God – the Covenant to Abraham that says simply “I will be your God, and you shall be my people ...” – the Covenant to the Prophets that challenges us to live our faith humbly and with the certainty that we belong to God ... it’s not really that hard ... it’s about being free to live our faith and to share it with others in every action and every thought ...

May it be so, thanks be to God – let us pray ...

Prairie Preacher stakes a claim in the Highlands ...

2011-03-24T14:20:00.004-04:00

It has been over five years since I first went 'online' here with my Prairie Preacher blog. Along the way, there have been some additions and changes, but with 2401 posts (as of this entry), the Prairie Preacher has remained a place where I am comfortable to muse about life, ministry and the things that are on my mind.

I've been fortunate to have met some fabulous new friends along the way, and I feel blessed to have been able to continue sharing the many ups and downs of my life journey with friends across the country, and indeed around the world. In recent days, my family have encouraged me to continue writing here as I've wrestled with the struggles that have come with losing Mom, Scott and Mr. B in such short order. I have also been humbled by the active encouragement by the Flesherton Pastoral Charge to explore and even exploit the potential and possibility that exists in sharing our ministry online

Today, in addition to updating the website for St. John's and Eugenia United Churches (found here), I have also launched a new blog that will be specific to the life and ministry of Eugenia and St John's United Churches.

This new blog called "United Church in the Grey Highlands" (found here) will be primarily a place to share sermons, reflections and announcements from the Flesherton Pastoral Charge, but it will also be an intentional outreach ministry that seeks to link current members and adherents with the alumni and other interested people who are part of the ever expanding circle that is the United Church in Flesherton.

As part of the seasonal Stewardship Campaign in Flesherton, the decision has been made and embraced, to reflect on, and improve ways we can live the concept of being a welcoming and inclusive community. Beyond simply saying "All Welcome" the folks in both congregations are exploring ways to widen the invitation beyond our Sunday Morning services.

Stay tuned, with each passing day, they seem to be coming up with more ideas and new ways of being Church to their community. Instead of simply wondering what they can do, the folks in Eugenia and Flesherton are rolling up their sleeves and getting busy doing it ... and the 'it' remains dynamic, fluid and ever changing!!

Today, in my ministry, I feel deeply blessed to be amongst a group of people who grasp and comprehend what it means to truly be a People of the Resurrection. They've been down some hard and difficult roads, and have not only survived, they have prospered, and now they want to share that with others ...

Come, and join us in our conversation and in our ministry.
You are ALWAYS welcome !!!

Sermon for February 6th 2011 - Flesherton Pastoral Charge

2011-03-24T14:00:00.002-04:00

Activist, Pastor and Theologian Jim Wallis once observed:

“Several Thousand years ago, the writer of the Proverbs warned, ‘where there is no vision, the people perish.’ That ancient warning also applies to our contemporary situation. Without a vision, we are indeed perishing. From the violent carnage of our inner cities to the empty consumerism of our shopping malls, from our shantytowns to our stock exchanges, from the muffled sounds of children in poverty to our twenty second media sound bites, from our toxic wastes to our the our wasted time watching television, from our religion of entertainment to our entertainments of religions, from all the substances we abuse to the economic and political institutions that abuse us – we are a society and culture that has lost its way.” (The Soul of Politics – pp xv-xvi)

There is an uncomfortable truism in this observation. We are a society mo has lost its ways. We yearn for what once was – the simpler way – while we struggle for a quick fix – something easy and simple that takes 3 or 5 or 10 easy steps to attain. If you doubt this yearning, take a look the next time you are in a bookstore, at the self-help section and scan the titles ... people are desperate for something more. They want to unwind some of the hollowness of our culture and find a deeper more significant meaning for the world, our lives, and our very existence.

Even if they lack the right language, what they are embodying, is a deep spiritual hunger. A spiritual hunger for something more than what they see day in and day out on the flickering screens of computers, tvs, cell phones ... something more than what they experience in the malls and shopping centres ... something that feeds the hunger deep within.

The irony for the Modern Church – for us – is that outside in our communities, people are yearning for the very thing we are offering ... our mission and calling as a people is to be The Church, present and real to the world – to proclaim and share the Gospel through our every action, our every word – to share the Gospel through our lives.

But we too have lost our way ...

The challenge we must face and consider is the simple questions of “who are we? And what do we do?”

When I was a Leader of a Beaver troop back in my younger years – Beavers, being the 4-7 crowd of the Scouting movement – we used to begin our weekly gathering by asking the questions: “Who are You? and What do you do?”

The Beaver colony would shout back as loudly as they could – “beavers, beavers, beavers, . Sharing Sharing Sharing.”

If I asked the SAME questions here today, or any day the answer would be stunned and confused silence ... some one might gather the courage to say – “um, we’re the church, and we’re here to ... um ... worship ...” or something like that.

But by and large, we would stand confused, stunned, and likely bordering on the angry that I dared embarass you with such a question ... if we ask the modern church – who are you? and what do you do? Most would be hard pressed to come up with an answer.

Yet, we instill in our children the missions and the objectives of whatever group or team they are on – from Beavers through to Hockey, Soccer, Baseball – we want them to understand the importance of being together, working for a common cause, and GETTING the reason for being there day after day, week after week.

But somewhere along the line, we adults gathered here as “the Church” have lost our way ...

Then we hear a reading like today’s Gospel reading where we are called to be like salt in our world.

We hear that and almost immediately think of a salt shaker ... the white stuff our doctors tell us to cut back on, but that makes food taste so much better. What does it mean to be like salt in our world?

What does it mean to be light to our world?

What does any of this mean, if we’ve forgotten who we are and what we do?

Step one in grasping this metaphor is to appreciate salt as something more than just a simple condiment that flavours our food, and wreaks havoc on our health ... Salt is a very useful and important substance. In its myriad of forms it has many many roles in our world.

The three broad uses of salt involve purity, preservation and flavouring.

In the ancient world, salt was viewed as something pure and perfect. It was one of the elements nature provided, and was offered back in almost every ancient culture as part of the sacrifices given to the gods. Even ancient Judaism used salt in their sacrifices to God. Salt is pure and acts as an agent of cleansing and purification physically and metaphysically.

Salt is also the most common of preservatives. From salt fish, to pickles to Egyptian mummies, the antiseptic qualities of salt were and continue to be used to preserve anything from food to pharohs.

And thirdly, salt brings out flavour in even the most mundane of foods ... popcorn and french fries just don’t taste right without salt ... and how many bowls of soup have we had where we reach for the salt shaker BEFORE we even taste it? Salt makes food taste fuller and better.

And salt had other roles and purposes in the ancient world too. Salt was a commodity that was traded and bartered much like gold and money is used today. In fact, for a time Roman soldiers were paid in salt – hence the origins of the term salary – and salt was regarded as a valuable and precious commodity.

Salt was also used throughout the middle east to seal a covenant between people or parties. Even today, traditions persist that see warring opponents sitting down and sharing a piece of bread sprinkled with salt, as a sign of their new covenant.

Salt, when Jesus stood and challenged his followers to be like it, had many different purposes and uses ... many positive, some negative, but ALL of them relevant and central to their understandings as people, and as a culture.

So, his statement was heavily loaded with meaning. Saying – “be like salt” was not a simple straightforward commendation, it was a statement heavy with implications and meaning.

And that perhaps is part of the problem in the modern era ... when we hear the words: “be like salt”, we want to keep it confined to the glass shaker on our tables that our doctors want us to put away ... we want to keep our calling limited to being a simple condiment, and stay away from that other stuff that sounds complicated and hard ... we are willing to be salt providing it is easy and simple and won’t rock the proverbial boat.

But, unfortunately, that is not what God is calling us to ...

To return for a moment to Jim Wallis, moving forward from the quotation I shared earlier, Jim also observed:

“the poverty of our middle class life is a sign of our crisis. Our shopping mall culture keeps consumers busy in an age of hitherto unknown materialism fraught with culture emptiness, loneliness, anxiety and a fundamental loss of meaning. A most revealing sign of the crisis is the blank, sad, or angry looks in the eyes of the young who congregate both on the wasting corners of urban streets, and in the wasteful corridors of suburban shopping malls. But a moral focus on consumerism makes both liberals and conservatives uncomfortable, perhaps because both sides are so deeply caught up in it.”

Wallis cites an example from an American city where a young man fleeing two others armed with automatic weapons runs through the doors of a downtown church building believing he will be safe there. His pursuers don’t even pause at the doors, but instead begin spraying the interior of the building with gunfire. Later the leaders of the church are indignant as they express their contempt for the sacrilige that was visited upon them. “How dare they treat a Church this way ...” they cry. Yet other church leaders more familiar with the ways of the streets, shrug their shoulders and say – “if the church won’t come into the streets, the streets WILL come into the Church.”

This example underscores both the necessity of the Church to be salt to the world, and the current status of our Church removed, seperated and in many respects irrelevant to the world around us ... we are called to something more. We are called to be salt and light to the world, and it begins by taking seriously our ministry to our communities, and to the people we meet day in and day out.

We are not simply a social club.

We are not just a gathering of people once a week to sing and pray.

We ARE The Church – the body of Christ incarnate and real in the world.

We are THE Church – called to be salt and light to our world.

The first step is to reclaim the visions and dreams that come with our faith. To move out past our wooden doors and to go into the world with the values that are intrinsic to our faith.

The first step is to dare to dream about what COULD be ... youth activities, a bustling Sunday school programme, a strengthened music ministry, better accessibility for our buildings, new people showing up, the return of familiar faces who have wandered off for a time, new forms of ministry and outreach that move us past just Sunday Morning at 9:30/11:00, doing more online to reach those who want more ... the list of possibilities is limited ONLY by our imaginations, and our imaginations are limited ONLY by our willingness, or unwillingness to dream and hope.

So, as a church – as a people of faith – we are called to be salt, and to be salt we must begin to dream about the possibilities and potentials of what we – you and I – can do together as the people of God.

On one level, it’s a daunting task – what if we try something new and it fails? We ask ... and we think more about it, (whatever ‘it’ is) and begin to inventory the possible NEGATIVE consequences, then decide it’s not worth the bother or the risk because it will never work anyway. What we NEED to do instead is dare to dream, and more importantly, dare to take the chance of trying – and YES, we will have failures – some of them will be epic and embarassing – but that’s the risk we have to take, because not only will we learn from our mistakes, we will, for EVERY mistake, have a success too. BUT, more importantly in the eyes of the community and the world around us, the willingness to take chances, to get messy, and to make mistakes expresses the WILLINGNESS to live out what we believe, to move beyond our comfortable sanctuaries, and to reach out into the world with love and care and FAITH.

We WILL have failures, but for every failure we will have success, and even in our failures and our mistakes, we will learn and grow, and we will be regarded as being successful BECAUSE we dared to take the chance and try.

When you ask a colony of Beavers, “who are you? and what do you do?” and they shout back “Beavers, beavers, beavers, sharing, sharing, sharing.” You then encourage them to go out into the world and take chance – to try new things, to explore and learn and grow ... it’s a lesson for ALL of us to consider as we strive to be salt to our world ...

May it be so, thanks be to God – let us pray ...

(Please note: Much of the material from Jim Wallis is from his book 'The Soul of Politics' which is available through a wide variety of sources on line (like abebooks.com) and is well worth having, reading and using. I invite you to consider tracking down a copy and purchasing it - The Souls of Politics is a valuable addition to ANY library.)

I miss him ...

2011-03-24T11:51:00.002-04:00

Last week I had a dream that I went to Mom's to continue cleaning and sorting there, and when I walked into the kitchen Scott was standing there ...

"What the hell have you been doing?" he asked, looking at the piles of papers, letters, recycling and so on that covers the table and counters.

I replied to him, "What are you talking about? You died ..."

Scott laughed and said he had faked his death, and explained that he wanted to just get away from everything ...

I didn't know whether I wanted to hug him, or kill him (again) ... we sat down and talked about things, and tried to figure out what to do next now that he was 'back' ... I woke from the dream chuckling, but at the same time wishing desperately that it could be true, and that the last few weeks would be a bad, bad, bad dream ...

As I lay in the pre-dawn darkness I was overwhelmed by the realization that it hasn't been a dream, and that I wasn't going to find him standing in the kitchen asking "what the hell have you been doing?" (although, I pretty much hear him asking me that anytime I do ANYTHING out at his bush, or in his room ... but that's another issue !)

This past weekend, Ms H. and her friend from Brandon went to the bush with me so we could check on things and have a look around ... I stood on the balcony of the shop and looked off down the trail and wished that I could see Scott ... in my mind's eye, I can picture him walking the trail, a black toque perched on his head, his beloved rottweilers thundering through the brush and leaves, tumbling and playing as he yells at them "hey, what are you doing?" and laughs as they rumble towards him, tails wagging with happiness ... When I stand in the bush, I can almost feel Scott's presence ... it was where he was happy and content ... it was his sanctuary and in many respects, his home ...

I miss him ... but I'm glad I have some good memories to recall when I walk through the bush, and stand on the trails that for the last twenty years he cherished ... Scott might be gone from our sight, but he is not gone from our hearts and memories ... I sense him in the crunch of leaves under foot, and the rustle of the wind through the tree branches overhead ... he will always been part of his beloved bush, and for that I am very thankful !!

Snow ... Flowers ... Life ...

2011-03-24T11:27:00.004-04:00

The other night I finally moved the wilting and browning bouquet of flowers from Scott's memorial outside with the intention of putting them in the backyard compost bin. They got as far as the back porch because I just didn't feel like walking through the maze of dog poop in the dark backyard. I opted instead to wait to deposit the flowers and greenery in the bin the next morning ...

The day began yesterday with a fairly significant dump of snow, that blanketed everything, including the flowers, with a thick layer of fluffy white flakes (hopefully the last of the season!).

When I went out the door yesterday, I didn't pick up the vase and bouquet to carry it to the compost bin, but instead pulled out my cell phone and snapped a picture of it ... in many ways the flowers embody what I've been feeling lately.

I've described my brain as pudding ... it has been almost four months since I picked up a book and read more than a page or two ... I have had a '2 Do' that seems to keep growing rather than shrinking ... and most days I find it challenging just to get through it ...

The interesting thing for me is to KNOW intellectually that all of this is normal - I can at times even cite the exact place in the journey that I am from the many resources I've used over the last twenty years of ministry - but internally, it matters not a whit. My heart and mind are on two different pages, and all the knowledge about grief and the journey I've been on doesn't help me in the moment.

Most days, I feel just like these flowers ... I'm wilted and a bit tired while the cold and snow that has fallen around me has masked some of the brown and wilted bits, while creating something else that is beautiful in its own way ... I miss my Mom and my brother dearly ... I wish I could pick up the phone when it rings and hear the familiar voice that says "It's your mom ..." or hear Scott teasing those around him with a light-hearted "tee hee" ... I yearn to turn back the hands of time and undo the losses that I've experienced in the last three months ...

Yet, I know that grappling with these loses necessitates letting go and being present to the moment, knowing that in time the hurt will lessen ... but the tension between my intellectual understanding of this journey and my emotional experience is a challenge ... And it is a challenge that is heightened by the Liturgical Lenten Journey that marks this season in the Church Calendar.

My Lenten Journey began weeks earlier than the traditional 40 days that mark the distance between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday ... Lent is about preparing for the Resurrection that comes with dawn on Easter Sunday, a resurrection that embodies and embraces the fullness of God's Grace and Love in our lives ... Lent is about preparing by plunging into the deep dark corners of our lives and our world, and wrestling with issues of life and death knowing full well that we are never separated from the love and presence of our God, no matter how alone we might feel.

I also know my Lenten Journey will continue on long past the discovery of the empty tomb on Easter morning ... it may take months or even years to find an equilibrium for the broken heartedness that I feel ... and today, as I reflect on the last few weeks, I can say with certainty that this is okay ... there are no quick fixes, there are no easy answers, there is no magic wand that can be waved to lessen the pain or miraculously heal the hurts ... it takes time ... one step, one moment, one breath at a time ...

I've long counseled people facing crisis, loss, death or traumatic events, to stay present to the moment and not rush through to a place of peace and healing ... it's good counsel, and wise advice gleaned from the many resources I've used over the years ... the problem is, we live in a time and space that wants everything to be all better YESTERDAY. The tension and the challenge we face comes when we try to make our journey according to a time frame that proceeds at its own pace, within a world that wants to make everything warm and fuzzy instantly ... trusting in God, or whatever you dub the Holy presence in our lives, is the best we can do ...

The reality is, that sometimes it's just hard to carry the load that comes when we lose someone we love ... but step by step, the journey continues, and each step happens in the support and love of our God ... The promise of resurrection never falters nor fails ... sometimes the road is just a bit longer than we expect, but step by step we make our way from the cold and snow of winter, to the glorious resurrection of spring, and we travel at the pace and speed we need to feel and live the healing and wholeness promised by our faith ...

Today, my journey continues ... DAYENU !!

Nap time ...

2011-03-24T11:22:00.003-04:00

I laid down for a nap yesterday afternoon, and when I woke up and hour or so later my feet were trapped ... both Oboe and Chloe were trying to claim the sunbeam ... it was a space that coincidentally was occupied by my feet !!!

Somehow they figured it out !!

I still love my school bus !!!!!

2011-03-12T21:46:00.003-05:00

I have been told that when I was coming up on my second birthday ALL I wanted was a school bus. No one really knows why, or at least they can't remember why, but they all seem to remember that all I wanted for my birthday was a school bus.

Somehow, mom managed to find me a school bus. But not just ANY school bus, a Dinky toy version of Wayne Industries' flat nosed school bus !!!

I know I got it for my second birthday because in the last few weeks as we've sorted through pictures for Mom's then for my brother Scott's memorial services, I found pictures of me holding the bus with a cake on the table in front of me. The number on the cake is a prominent '2'!

For over forty years, I've owned my little yellow school bus ... but for the last twenty or so, I haven't seen it much less held it.

That changed earlier this week when I was sorting through stuff at mom's ... I found a box in the basement that was full of books, toys, and other assorted items from my childhood. Finding my library of 'Big Little' books brought a teary smile to my face, the assorted trucks, cars and little people from our various Fisher Price sets took my breath away for a moment as I remembered how many hours I spent playing with the school, the garage the various other bits and pieces. But it was when I pulled my yellow school bus out of the bottom of the box, buried under some old comic and a handful of battered Mad magazines, that I cried.

I cried at the memories this battered and dinged up bus recalled within me, but more than that I cried at the simple realization of what has been lost in the last few weeks ... losing Mom was hard enough, but losing Scott twenty days later was utterly devastating. In three short weeks my world shifted and I became the oldest, and the last member of my immediate family ... as I rolled the bus across the basement floor I wept at the enormity of what has happened, and how different my world suddenly is ...

I have a fabulous and supportive extended family that have been there every step of this journey, and who have offered love, care and support when my knees have buckled and I've stumbled, and I have an incredible circle of friends who have continued to love and care for me too ... and I would be horribly remiss if I didn't mention the support the good folks of Flesherton and Eugenia have offered since this began ... but even with that circle of support and care, this journey is at times trying and extremely tiring.

Some days even getting out of bed is a challenge.

This week as I once again held my beloved yellow school bus, part of me was delighted at rediscovering a childhood treasure that remains as beautiful now as it was 40 years ago, but a bigger part of me recoiled at the thought of what has transpired in recent weeks, and the profound enormity of what I have faced.

As the black rubber wheels rolled across the floor for the first time in 20 years, I wished that for a moment I could once again be sitting at my Grandparents in Waterloo, playing with my bus on their living room carpet as Mom, Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Drake, Scott, and the other members of my extended family filled the space with conversation, laughter and togetherness ... my heart aches not only for Mom and Scott, but for a return to that time and place that slipped away so easily as time rolled on ...

Thankfully, when I pick up my little yellow school bus for a brief moment I can feel all of the memories associated with it over the years, and for a fleeting instant I can once again be on my grandparents' living room floor in the middle of a family circle of conversation and togetherness ... thank God for touchstones along the way !