The Christmas Spirit ...

The Christmas Spirit
is that hope
which tenaciously clings
to the hearts of the faithful
and announces
in the face
of any Herod the world can produce
and in all the Inn doors slammed in our faces
and all the dark nights ofour souls
that with God
all things still are possible,
that even NOW
unto us
a Child is born !!

- Ann Weems

Gifts for Santa:

Once again this year, Beetle got busy and left a special gift for Santa to go along with his cookies, butter tart and egg nog ... This year she created a Christmas scene complete with presents, a tree, and a small rug in front of a fire place ... The design along the edge are carrots and slices of watermelon because "I wanted to do something pretty for Santa!!"

Merry Christmas, and may the blessings of the season bring a shining light through the darkness!!

And may the children continue to lead us as they have since Bethlehem ...

It WAS a lovely home ...

Last week Ms. H over saw the construction of a rather clunky, but still very lovely Ginger Bread House ... for the last few days it sat amid the clutter on our dining room table (ALL the stuff from the office HAS to go somewhere???!!!).

Today she hauled the Gingerbread house to the kitchen table and using her own "WMD" (a hammer wrapped in tin foil) she wreaked havoc on the house and left the scene of delicious destruction you see above ...

Oh well, ...she had a good time and we've all been munching on the remnants ...

Tonight ...

Tonight for the first time in over 20 years I am not attending nor presiding at a Christmas Eve Service ...

Tonight I will take time to listen to the Christmas Story involving Scrooge, Bob, Tiny Tim and a host of ghostly visitors who challenge humanity to live the Christmas Story ...

Tonight will be spent with my children ... perhaps their joy and their anticipation will rub off on me ...

But in this moment I can feel only heaviness of heart and soul that comes from the journey I have been on for the last three years since I erroneously attempted to help someone I thought was a friend ... I foolishly tried to help and instead have watched my reputation, my job and now even my calling ebb away in the face of unrelenting toxicity and nastiness.

Tonight there are those who will gather with family and be very much like Little Jack Horner poking his thumb into his Christmas Pudding and pulling out a plum ... they will look back on what they've achieved and proudly say - "OH, what a good boy (or girl) am I!!"

Sadly they take pride for having destroyed something that possessed great value and even greater potential ... but rather than embracing the change that comes from living the gift of Grace, they instead have chosen a path of cowardice and fear that seeks to maintain something that is slowly dying ...

My Christmas Wish tonight is to find a place of Graciousness where hearing the words "Merry Christmas" doesn't grate on my heart and soul ... BUT, today isn't that place nor that day ... today I ache for what has been taken from me by vicious, petty people who have never been interested in the promotion of the Gospel anyway, and who wrap themselves in the facade of being "good Christians" trying to do the "best" for their community, while they fail miserably of offer anything that even remotely resembles a faithful response ...

Today hearing Merry Christmas from the lips of those who did nothing to stop the toxic behaviour of their "friends" and "neighbours" has only deepened the darkness ... cowardice has no place in the Church ... yet too often cowardice is the ONLY way most people know how to live their faith ...

I know Isaiah's words ring true ... but this is one pilgrim who has grown tired of journeying in the darkness ... maybe one day ...

Just not today ... not tonight ...

Good Bye to a Great ...

Jazz pianist,

Gentleman,

Canadian Icon,

Oscar Peterson.

dead at the age of 82.

Oh, but what a legacy he leaves ...

Google him,

search on YouTube,

search out his Jazz Music

and honour him through

his profound gift of music.

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In Oscar's honour, I offer this clip

Christmas in New York ...

... and with it I wish

Katie, David and Annie

(from At the Half Note)

all the best of the season in this

time of transition and possiblity

in NYC !!!

Christmas Memories ...

Tonight looking out at the full moon, I can't help but be drawn back to a night the last time the full moon actually fell on Christmas Eve ...

That afternoon, the Coast Guard told two families that the search and rescue mission for two missing fishermen was being called off ...

That night in the tiny wooden sanctuary we lit the Christ Candle as the worship service began in complete darkness ...The only light for a moment was the illumination of the moon supplemeted by a single candle lit by the daughter of one of the fishermen ... In that moment we read the words of Isaiah that proclaimed that the people who walked in the darkness had beheld a great light ...

That tiny light in a dark church illuminated only by the full moon hanging over the mountains that loomed to the south reminded us that even in the darkest night light will come ...

That night two families grieved the loss of husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons ... but theirs were not the only losses marked that season ... gathered in the darkness:

was a young mom clutching her children - this would be her last Christmas with her daughters ...
a older friend who's diagnosis would lead him to death within a year ...

and families marking transitions, losses and struggles ...

That tiny light represented so much more than a single candle flickering in the darkness ...

That candle was the light of hope that at times seems feeble and faint, but will flare and burn brightly when faith is lived ...

My journey that night didn't end in the service ... I remember stepping outside into the cold bitter night ... I looked up at the moon floating in a royal blue sky over majestic snow capped mountains and I felt blessed and loved ...

I drove home and arrived in the door to a ringing phone ... it was urgent - I was needed in the village - I had to get there ... apprehension filled my stomach - such a call on Christmas Eve couldn't be good ... Yet, I went ...

I knocked on the door and heard voices call me in ... I entered the home and was told to wait at the top of the stairs ... I watched as he struggled to walk across the room ... I wept as he wrapped his arms around me and thanked me for "everything" I had done ... I laughed as he told me "this is a special christmas present just for you" ...

Six months earlier he had been burned in an explosion on a fishing vessel ... six months ago he had been given less than a 10% chance of living through the night ... six months ago he had been checked into a bed in a distant burn unit while his family waited and prayed ... six months ago he was expected to die ...

And this night he stood hugging his minister, both men weeping tears of joy and relief ... a walking miracle ...

I can't even begin to describe the feelings that washed over me in that moment ... I still tear up at the recollection of the moment ... That Christmas Eve under the full moon it seemed that for a moment the whisper of angels wings was very real and wafting over us ...

Tonight looking out at the full moon I can't help but recall that miraculous evening when the Christmas Spirit was very real and very present ... it's an experience I long to feel again ...

Six Months from NOW:

A scene from our front yard a mere six months ago ...

... kind of puts winter in perspective doesn't it??

Maybe One Day We WILL Finally listen:

This is my FAVOURITE rendition of the Christmas Proclamation.

Maybe one day our Human Family will hear what Christmas is ALL about:

Christmas in Kandahar ...

This past week I just finished reading Christie Blatchford's powerful tome "Fifteen Days: Stories of Bravery, Friendship, Life and Death from Inside the New Canadian Army."

I can only say that it is a powerful read ... it is at times devestating and painful, and at other times brutally honest in its descriptions of life on the ground in Afghanistan for the men and women who are serving in our Military.

As one who proudly calls himself a peace-nik, I have been recommending the book to many ... Whether we support the war or not, our men and women are on the ground there in active combat and they are owed our support ... After reading this book my feelings about the war haven't changed, but if we cut and run now, we will have sacrificed 73 of Canada's finest, not too mention countless Afghanis, and dozens of Canadian men and women who have come home wounded in body, mind and spirit, for NOTHING.

I feel strongly that THIS BOOK should be under EVERY Christmas Tree this Season ... EVERY citizen in Canada owes to his or herself, and to our soldiers to read Blatchford's words and hear the stories told BY the soldiers themselves. We are a nation at war ... we can't fool ourselves any longer and continue to ignore that simple fact.

This Christmas Season we need to pause as we pull up to our Christmas Tables and consider the families who have loved ones far from home, and those who have lost loved ones in battles far from home ... and as we whisper our prayers of thanks, let us also whisper a prayer for peace ... a just and lasting peace.

So, today I offer the first of three musical selections as my tiny way of honouring the soldiers who this year will mark Christmas far from home, and their families who prayer for their safety ... Looking back almost 100 years, we find inspiration for the gift of peace:

Christmas in Kandahar ... part 2

Paul McCartney's Play The Pipes of Peace:

Christmas in Kandahar ... part 3

Call it "The Church of YouTube" ... today cruising Christmas Music to share here helped brighten my mood ... And there is perhaps no song I associate more closely with Christmas, and that I LOVE more than this one:

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Snoopy and the Red Baron remind us of what Christmas is all about ...

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So to the Men and Women serving in the Canadian Armed Forces in Kandahar, and those who are getting ready in coming months to head overseas to serve there ... I can only say - "Merry Christmas" in spite of it all:

My Christmas Hero

I've always liked the Christmas Season ...

As a child and youth I ALWAYS looked forward to the gathering of the family clan at our Grandparents where there would be food and fun and fellowship in abundance.

As an adult and a minister, I came to appreciate the majestic beauty of the Christmas Story. Not the Hallmark version with picturesque snow falls and families gathered around the tree, but the real story ...

The story of a refugee family welcoming a new born while hiding in the cold darkness of a barn.

The truth and historicity of the story pales for me in the face of what has developed around that core story in the Centuries since. I am a HUGE fan of the legends and traditions of the HOLY SEASON ... I love the carols and hymns ... I like the quiet silence that comes with the reading of the Christmas story ...

The story has fear ... the young girl, perhaps no more than 13 giving birth to a baby far from home and far from her own mother, who would be a support in such times ... the transient nature of the family's existence - they are like too many on our planet homeless ... the visitors through the night do little to comfort the mom - shepherds were not known for their manners, but were viewed as opportunistic bandits and thieves ...

And the story has hope ... a dim light falling through the door of a stable nestled in the hillside in a backwater corner of a mighty empire ... celestial messengers proclaiming the Joy in this moment ... saying - "DO NOT BE AFRAID!!"

I like the story ... I love the liturgy that tells it in the cold dark of a Canadian Winter and with music and prayer lives it, even if for only a moment ...

I like to retell the story from the streets of the little town called Bethlehem ...

That is the power of Christmas for me ... pausing to listen for the rustle of angel wings as we know in THAT moment that with God anything is indeed possible ...

I also like Charles Dickens story "A Christmas Carol"... my personal custom on Christmas Eve after services have ended and my little ones have crawled into bed with visions of sugar plums dancing in their head, is to pop on a CD or a Video (or lately a DVD) of A Christmas Carol, and with a glass of sherry in hand, to settle in with only the glow of the Christmas Tree lights to hear once again the retelling of the story ...

This year though is different ...

This year I don't approach Christmas with any sense of anticipation nor joy ...

This year I feel very much like Scrooge sitting alone in the dark wanting to simply be left alone ...

Too many of the "Merry Christmas"Greetings ring hollow to my ears and my heart this season ...

This year having no Church to call home and having been cast out by a community that I have over the last seven and a half years loved and served has torn a chunk out of my heart and soul ... Hearing the counsel - "oh WE know you will land on your feet" does little to ease the pain that I carry ...

I know time will heal all wounds. But when your wounds are caused by the betrayal of others, and the incompetence and viciousness of so-called leaders within the church, and when you have been rightly called to task for your behaviour, while numerous others have NEVER been called to account for THEIR BEHAVIOUR ... it's a bitter pill to be foisted upon you ...

This Christmas there is little that I feel joyous about ... The Church I've loved for the last 40 years has been making it abundantly clear that not only am I the problem in Minnedosa, but that in insisting that people step back and look at the bigger picture and name some of the currents ebbing and flowing around this community, that have been feed by the fear and the losses experienced here - by asking for that to happen, I am NOT owning my dysfunction in this toxic cesspool.

Give me a break ... This year there will be people celebrating Christmas happy at what they've achieved ... sadly though, they have failed to heed the ghostly warnings to abandon a Scrooge-like journey and instead they have become modern Herods seeking to kill the Christ child and stifle the message brought by the angels.

My one prayer this season is that one day those modern Herod, people who wear their faith like a gaudy bobble that has no meaning nor connection to their lives, will like the grand old man himself one day be called to account for their sins and mis-deeds.

I also hope that in spite of them the Church in Minnedosa and our world will continue to flourish and grow withing the hearts of those who have heard and who live the Christmas Message.

The only solace I can take in this December Darkness comes from the cards, notes, letters and tiny gifts that have been handed to me from MEMBERS of MINNEDOSA UNITED CHURCH with the words - "I'm so sorry this has happened." and "This is SO wrong." AND "This is NOT what our Church is about."

The funny thing is ... the number of people who have since the meeting that ended the pastoral relationship who have uttered these things greatly out number those who wanted me to go ... Too bad The Board and Presbytery can't unstop their ears long enough to HEAR those voices and realize that I am not the only problem here ...

I made mistakes ... but over the last two years as my reputation, took hit after hit after hit, and as my marriage and my life began to fall apart ... I think I've more than paid for my sins and misdeeds ...

One day I'd like to see some of the others called to account for their actions ... but that is NOT likely to happen because the theology of warm pink fuzzies has triumphed ...

In the meantime, I will like Scrooge, growl - "I wish to be left alone ..." until the sting left by the actions of "the good church people" around me diminishes slightly ...

And to the cheery "Merry Christmas" uttered from lips that have spread venomous lies and gossip so easily I can only say a heartfelt - "Bah Humbug !!!"

Today I've come to realize that my journey may parallel that of the Holy Family, who in the face of Herod's anger and wrath fled into the night ... and like the Holy Family, only after I have sojourned through the desert and lived in exiled from home, and only after Herod has died a slow and painful death (look it up - this fact alone may indicate that there is indeed a JUST God in the cosmos) might I again come "HOME" ...

In the meantime I wait to glimpse the real meaning of Christmas from people who have heard the rustle of angel wings ... and the funny things for me is that with tears in their eyes they speak of the embarrassment and shame and hurt they feel by the actions of what they thought was "their" church ... and right now the only person who seems willing to hear them is me ...

Merry Christmas??? Yeah Right ... maybe one day ... in the meantime I continue to pack up in preparation for an uncertain future that is looking less bright with each passing day ...

The Longest Night ...

Tomorrow the days start getting longer, and nights grow shorter ... We've officially entered the season of Winter, and we begin moving our way towards Spring ...

Tonight as I walked around town I thought about the Longest Nights I've marked in recent years. While in ministry The Longest Night Service was among the most meaningful for me through Advent. We would invite folks to come and mark what some call a "Blue Christmas" wherein we acknowledge that in this season for some the losses darken the season and dim the light that many associate with the Holiday season.

Perhaps it was the dull ache that has settled in over recent weeks, or maybe it was the twinge of pain I felt walking past the vacant lot on Main Street where the Church Building once stood and I was simply overwhelmed by the cascade of losses that poured over me ... the church fire wasn't even the beginning of my losses ...

Whatever it was, I thought back over the December 21st of my past and I found myself smiling as I recalled on Longest Night in Bella Coola when a group of four grown men gathered around a table and played the Board Game "HeroQuest" pictured above.

I won't even begin to describe the game or how it is played. BUT, I will say it was lots and lots of fun. So much so, we began playing it regularly for over a year ... with beer, munchies and lots of laughter, we four continued to wage battles between a host of evil minions and our Heroes until our lives lead us away from the Bella Coola valley ...

I can honestly say that I have never had a circle of friendship like the group that encircled the tables in our respective homes while we played a silly Board Game.

Tonight I realized how much I would love to once again spend the Winter Solstice sitting around a table tossing dice and playing a board game with my circle of friends ... tonight I realized how much I miss them ... I can't think of a better way to heraldthe arrival of Winter and to fit the winter blahs that I have in a major way.

Tomorrow we draw closer to the resurrection that is SPRING!!!

Unwelcomed Visitors ...

Last night our house heralded the unwanted, and definitely unwelcomed arrival of some unappealing house guests ...

Our bedding has been washed (eight LOADS of laundry in 3 hours!!!)... stuffies and pillows have been outside in the minus 12 temps ... quilts, afghans, and blankets have been hung outside on a frosty clothes line ... and hair has been washed with a pharmaceutical mix ...

Hopefully we are once again Cootie free ...

Makes me glad I've got a bald head ... but it doesn't stop the itchy feeling !!!

Baking Powder Biscuits (Recipe)

I credit my maternal grandmother for my baking prowess ... the pyrex baking dish on the counter seldom lacked biscuits, or buns while we were growing up.

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I remember trading a metal tin with her. She would fill it with her yummy ginger snaps and send it home with me, and on my next visit I would (with mom's help) fill it with chocolate chip cookies and leave it behind. I can't remember how long we traded it back and forth, nor why we stopped ... but I can remember one day getting something for Grandma out of the cupboard and finding the tin ... I reached out and just touched it as the memories flooded back ... And, Yes, I even had to wipe away a tear ...

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But the all time favourite for me was Grandma's Christmas FUDGE !!! I think it remains a much missed highlight for most of us grandkids ... Last year's heaping plate of Christmas Fudge prepared by one of the cousins for the Clan Xmas gathering was pretty damned close to Grandma's original. Mind you, I think we will always hold her's higher than it was simply from nostalgia ... BUT - it was a treat to enjoy the fudge in the presence of my cousins many of whom I hadn't seen in years ... and with whom I hadn't spent a Christmas in almost15 years !!! In such a setting, even a bag of cheezies would border on the gourmet!!

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I have many memories of Grandma and her baking and cooking ... lessons that have been indelibly etched within me, and that have made be the baker and chef that I am today ... I remember learning her ginger snap recipe after asking her for it one day.

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Grandma said - "Oh, it's a handful of this, and a dash of that. I just make it up as I go along."

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One afternoon we "measured" her handfuls of this and dashes of that, and wrote it down.

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Some of my most prized possessions are the slips of paper that have various recipes scrawled on them in Grandma's handwriting. They are true family heirlooms that will be passed on to my children.

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Her Christmas Fudge, her baking powder biscuits, her bread and buns and of course her ginger snaps are all culinary delights that remain favourites in my memories, and they are things I struggle valiantly to emulate in my cooking and baking ...

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Biscuits are one of my specialties ... I learned the "touch" from Grandma's hand, and I learned some tricks of the trade along the way. The handful of this and a dash of that has never failed me and won me the Blue Ribbon at the Fall Fair in Bella Coola back in the day.

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A plate of fresh baked biscuits has never been poorly received anywhere ...

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So, in reply to a couple of requests to my recipe I offer here a recipe from an old cookbook that once was published by the Vancouver Sun. It is a recipe that is pretty close to the one I use and works well ...

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2 cups flour

4 teaspoons baking powder

2 tablespoons sugar (optional) * I am generous with sugar (Grandma's secret!!)

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar

1/2 cup shortening

2/3 cup of milk (zapped in the microwave briefly to warm it up helps)

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Sift dry ingredients together. Cut in shortening until mixture resembles coarse crumbs (the smoother the better)

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Add milk all at once, stirring only until dough follows fork around bowl. (having the milk at hand is helpful in case the mix is too dry - you don't want it too wet though!)

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Turn out on lightly floured surface and knead for 1/2 minute. (this is where the "touch" comes in to play - you have to learn to know when the dough feels "right")

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Pat or roll 1/2 inch thick. Cut with biscuit cutter or drinking glass.

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Bake on ungreased cookie sheet in a very hot oven - 450 F for 10 - 12 minutes.

(in the picture above I added shredded cheese just before adding the milk - I threw in a healthy handful of shredded cheese (about 1 to 1 1/2 cups) and kneaded it in. I've also made raisin biscuits by increasing the sugar and throwing in a cup of raisins that I had soaked in warm water for a few minutes. I've also thrown in dried herbs and spices at times too ... It's all about playing !! Experimenting and having FUN)

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Enjoy !!

Happy Baking !!

More Hoar Frost Pictures ...

This Morning's Sky:

Glorious Hoar Frost !!

A cool picture to share ...

I was messing around tonight with my digital camera,

and I kind of liked how this picture turned out.

On tonight's menu ...

It started with the bones and carcass

of a chicken roasted and enjoyed

a couple of days ago.

With a chopped onion, diced veggies, left over gravy

and a crock pot of water,

it was left to cook all day with

the additions of lentils, more veggies, barley, noodles

and a healthy dash of seasonings ...

Then as the dinner hour drew closer

a batch of cheesy biscuits was whipped together

and popped into the oven.

A yummy supper was enjoyed by all.