PROLOGUE: I have long had a love affair with my muse. That hiddeness deep inside that inspires the most beautiful in me and allows me to write from time to time. The Greek image of the muse is the best I can do to identify her…she is female for sure and there is something of a love between us but she is aloof and rarely shows herself. Most of my poetry is simply bait, lumps of coal to tempt the diamond from the mountain…once and a great while she emerges and takes my breath away. Without her there would have been many, many moments of painful loneliness.

PROMETHEAN MUSE

she lifts as light
moves warm upon the wall
nameless lives and lives
my life-long lover
teasing word after word
soul wrenched children
wailing into this wild world

she is beauty
she is song
she is strength

she is muse
chained to me since birth
will lay with me in death
I her mountain top
she my titan Promethean
who gave me fire
and brought me to life

There are many poets in history, as many as their are people, but none can compare to William Blake (1757-1827). Bold, brash Blake who wrote and painted without fear and as such created masterpiece after masterpiece. Do yourself a favor and read him in his entirety. Here is a poem I was reminded of this evening called The Tiger.

TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water’d heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

This March it will have been two years since I stepped out of vocational ministry, which is to say two years since I stopped getting paid to minister.

To say that the past two years has been a tad tumultuous would be a monumental understatement. Some things have long since left as the ministry I am involved in has transitioned to where it is today, such as it is. Still other things both related and unrelated cling stubbornly to this life like parasite barnacles to the sides of ocean-worn ship hulls…corrosive and refusing to let go.

Be that as it may I find that time has a way of helping one transition and move to a place of newness, wholeness and hope. I wonder at what the future holds but not so much as to become fixated on it. I try to learn from the past but remind myself not to fall into the trap of living there and the present is as the present is…it is where I dwell – here and now.

I miss some things like preaching and the connection to youth and senior citizens but it is funny how things develop. Where once I spoke to 300 about every other month I now endeavor to speak to 30,000 every week. Where once I struggled against the walls of my office which deigned to prevent me from a high level of relationship I now find myself thrust into the community which has become my office with no walls except the ones in my mind to constrain me.

I try to resist wondering too hard what God might be up to in my life because I do not find God-as-Puppetmaster to be theologically correct. Rather God speaks and whispers, God wills and weaves and gently shows Godself as one who desires us to move along in accordance with what we know of God’s will and way.

Time moves for us and I and never stops because it is its nature and it is ours to exist within it and navigate as well as we can given the circumstances and who we are.

i do so love
the cool kiss of the evening breeze
as she moves softly ‘cross my cheek
brushing fingers through  hair
a whispering willing embrace
pressed toward my face
constant ever-there companion
is life within me
and
without

crazy wind comes
with bitter bite
to strip away flesh
to kiss the world right
till bone bright white
burden-free in the sun
is left cold clean

time to start fresh
these joints to enmesh
weave Spirit weave

If you died today the world would go on without you.

How does this make you feel? Really feel? Some people call that statement a “no brainer” while others find it offensive to even suggest such a thing and still others fall somewhere between the two on the spectrum of opinion.

It is true though. If you disappeared tomorrow the world would go on without you. The people you know and love would too. They have to. The world has to. It is the nature of things – always moving, never stopping, leaving everything behind.

The thing is while many people may assent to the fact that the world, their job, their loved ones, friends, family etc. will go on when they stop people do not seem to carry this practical knowledge into their day to day lives. That is to say not many people live their lives as if the world cannot survive without them.

You know what I speak of. You may have a boss who never leaves the office. He or she stays in and works through lunch. They work late. They bring their work home with them. They are praised as paragons of hard work but in reality they simply do not believe that the business could survive without them and one day they will find themselves a hard working corpse disappointed that the business continues on.

““Be still, and know that I am God…” – Psalm 46:10

Stillness can lead to knowledge of God.

When was the last time you were still other than sleeping? When did you truly rest without your brain running in overdrive to compensate for a lack of physical activity?

“By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. ³ Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.” – Genesis 2:2-3

God rested. God rests. Why? God is our example and so we rest because God rests. But why? God requires no rest. It is not simply to refresh after being tired. Why not keep on creating? Notice that creation continues on the path God set while God rests…it does not collapse. God can step back from the work of creation and enjoy that which was created. Can we?

“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your male or female servant, nor your animals, nor any foreigner residing in your towns. For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.” – Exodus 20:8-11

Israel has just come out of 430 years of bondage in Egypt and God commands them to rest. How good is that? Like water in the desert surely. Rest God says…recreate your selves in my image. Enjoy family, friends, creation and the goodness that permeates all things because I made them.

Rest.

It is a whispered word to a worn soul.

r e s t

I cannot rest someone says. I cannot leave. The shackles of work, family, and worldly responsibility require me to be working.

This is arrogance. This is death. To not rest is to hasten your own end and encourage others to do the same. Worse still it is to stand before God and say “I MUST work. You do not understand. You cannot comprehend.”

It happens in ministry all the time. Pastors work and ministry volunteers work and they work and work and work and are lauded by the congregation who in turn see the example set before them and do the same in their spheres of influence. It is a vicious cycle which leads pastors, volunteers and congregants to believe that without them they church will fail.

Do you hear the lie in that? Do you hear the arrogance and pride? Without me the church cannot survive. God is not capable of maintaining his house without me. God is not strong enough.

So the cycle of effort, abuse and works continue unabated to the great pleasure of the enemy and pastors burnout and fall, volunteers quit and leave the church and the world is given an image of Christ that is false.

I was once told that ministries have a resurrection life cycle – that is they are born, live, thrive, die and are resurrected as something wonderful and new. Unfortunately we are very much like the apostles in that we refuse to allow death to enter into our ministries. Like Peter we would take up a sword and strike down any who would threaten our ministry.

We fail to see that without death the ministry cannot be reborn. Our arrogance and pride whisper in our ears that if we do not work harder people will call us lazy. They will say we are not good enough. We worry that our congregation may get smaller as if God cannot transform the world through one humble tool as God has done so many times before. No – we think – God requires a megachurch; God requires hundreds and thousands; God requires…God requires…

God requires nothing.

God gives everything.

We must change our thinking.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” – Romans 12:2

We are to be tools in the hands of God allowing God to work through us in the world; if we are set down for a time to refresh and rest; If we choose to end the day at 5 p.m. and leave the laptop at home; if we decide we need a vacation despite the urgency of the time…God will continue until we return.

We do not fall into laziness because God will do everything, rather we recognize the incredible honour of being used by God; of being tools in God’s hands and we seek after it with all our hearts…but…we always remain vigilant lest pride sneak up on us and tell us that what is being accomplished is by our own hands…that first whisper which sets us on the road to works filled oblivion.

Ministries may die; sales may slow down but life – real life – will take root and grow as we find that ever elusive guilt free refreshment of sabbath.

Why do we work? What are you trying to accomplish that God cannot do in God’s own time?

If we tell ourselves and others that we must do; that our work must continue; that we must accomplish and that if we do not things will not go as they should then God will test that hypothesis. God will say “let us see how well you do on your own in this thing…work as hard as you can and let us see if you build the tower to Heaven without me.”

The spirit of God whispers to us in the quiet and says “peace…be still and know that I am God.”

Are you too busy to hear?

The phrase “alone in the crowd” somewhat typifies who I am (or have become). For as long as I remember I have been awkward and lost when it comes to the social conventions of friend making and friend maintaining. My closest relationships are often with people I almost never talk to (Mike, Brenan and my family can attest to this). I am not exactly sure why.

Don’t get me wrong, I love people (why, some of my best friends are people) but I cannot seem to connect well with them and when I do it is usually one-sided with me becoming confidante and counselor while not being capable of opening up in return. In this I remain puzzled. I am sure it has been a contributing factor to the erosion and destruction of relationships in my life and as such it would be nice to arrest its development.

Sometimes I feel as though I stand outside of things, hovering above them and looking down as an observer but not actually participating. I don’t know if that makes sense. I see myself communicating and take no small amount of pride in being a decent communicator but for the most part it is learned behaviour. A series of social nuances and graces cobbled together from my observations of my more socially able fellow people.

I am a mocking bird. I am a patchwork quilt of all the people I encounter; people who I watch keenly to absorb smile types, gaits, postures and laughs in an effort to be one of them.

Now I am not deeply disturbed by any of this (although perhaps I should be). I am more curious at the enigma of me. Disconnected, disassociated me.

When I write I come closest to being who I am. The only other time when I am closer is when I pray. There is no point in hiding from God and so I try not to. But sometimes rather than hiding I am simply silent.

I find being me a bit of an interesting journey. I watch from inside as Peter the journalist heads into the community to interview and photograph people. He does it with ease but only because he has to. It is hard to relate to and open up to an awkward, clumsy, shy reporter and so he becomes something other than who he is for the sake of the job.

This was the case for Peter the pastor and preaching too. I loved preaching almost more than anything else. But being an introvert means getting in front of a group was about as frightening as it could possibly get. After all, one presumes to speak for and interpret God in such circumstances and fear should always be an ever present friend as much as I despise it.

I like to go to loud places like concerts and cafes. I like to go into the crowds of people to watch and wonder but I am not fond of being engaged with them on a one-on-one basis. This is what I mean by being alone in a crowd. Tokyo was good for that. I could ride the train to Shinjuku and wander amidst the press of humanity without ever having a single person engage me. Rio de Janeiro was the same…I could wander the beach at Ipanema for hours uninterrupted – solitary and surrounded. London, Geneva, Sydney, Munich, Milan, New York, San Francisco etc. – they all shared that…the ability to give me hiddeness and hoards.

Travelling is good for that. You go places where people don’t know you and you become part of the crowd. People do not avoid you because of your past nor do they come to you for the same reasons.

It is an odd trait for someone who so strongly espouses the values of community. I believe we are wired for community and in fact require healthy social engagement with others to be at our best. I believe this but my nature struggles against it. So much of what I know and believe is in battle with what I feel and want. Flesh and Spirit I suppose.

I have run out of words…I have created my own crowd of them in this post and now I will lose myself in their midst.

A recent court ruling here in Canada has me thinking. Alberta woman Katrina Effert was convicted of infanticide for strangling her newborn son when she was 19 and was given a 3 year suspended sentence and while I am not surprised by the sentence itself I am puzzled by the logic.

In her judgement Justice Joanne Veit wrote:

“while many Canadians undoubtedly view abortion as a less than ideal solution to unprotected sex and unwanted pregnancy, they generally understand, accept and sympathize with the onerous demands pregnancy and childbirth exact from mothers, especially mothers without support,”

I am not surprised by what she says, I am surprised that she makes the broad, sweeping assumption that Canadians “generally understand, accept and sympathize with the onerous demands pregnancy and childbirth exact from mothers…”

Every time I have this conversation with someone I am told exactly the opposite…that people do not understand. That only a mother can understand. That only a woman can understand. I am not necessarily disagreeing here but I do wonder if the people who have been saying these things to me and others have been wrong all these years and Justice Veit in fact has her hand on the true Canadian pulse.

The other thing that concerns me is that her judgement impacts future judgement – such is the law. It suggests that the “onerous demands” of pregnancy and childbirth are a reasonable mitigating factor in determining sentencing for infanticide. How about the onerous demands of parenting? Should a parent guilty of killing their 5 year old because he or she has been dealt a bad social hand have their sentence impacted because of this?

Ironically the mother may receive a harsher punishment in the form of 16 days of jail time for throwing the dead body of her son over the fence into her neighbour’s yard. The idea that improper disposal of a dead body is more wrong (based on the punishment) than the killing of the person seems a little backward.

At any rate to the point of the question – is Justice Veit correct in assuming that the law is a mirror of Canadian values and morality? Is she perhaps being provocative and suggesting that it is and if Canadian’s do not like it than they should seek to change it?

There are many people in the blogosphere who would rush to judge the judge and they should be careful. Justice Veit is not the raging eugenics proponent some have made her out to be. In an article about the University of Alberta’s ceasing to hand out honours in the name of former professor and Board of Eugenics chair John M. MacEachran Justice Veit is cited as stating:

“Dr. Thompson’s [a former chair holder of the Alberta Eugenics Board] evidence demonstrates that the operations of the Board initiated on a purported scientific rationale, degenerated into unscientific practices. The decisions of the Board were not made according to the standards imposed on them by the legislation, but because the members of the Board… thought that it was socially appropriate to control reproduction of “these people”.

Scholarships and awards were handed out in MacEachran’s name as a way of honouring his work. This ceased in 1998 after a University of Alberta panel asked for these awards to stop after reading a ruling in the case of Leilani MuirV. Prov of Alberta (which Veit oversaw) wherein they learned that many of the sterilizations performed by MacEachran were deemed unlawful. If not for Veit’s ruling the eugenics work of MacEachran would likely still be honoured today.

As a judge Veit has to work within the law but her appeal to the fact that Canada has no laws against abortion seems a little thin in a case of infanticide. Of course we’re talking about sentencing and not the ruling – people are losing sight of the fact that the mother was judged to be guilty…it is the punishment they are having a hard time with and the logic behind it.

Another factor people seem to be failing to take into account is that Justice Veit was ruling in a case that was sent to her by the Alberta Court of Appeals which had decided a jury had wrongly convicted Effert as guilty of 2nd degree murder by failing to take into account psychiatric evidence. No doubt Veit’s determination of punishment was being guided by the previous decision of the court of appeal – again – such is the law.

Lots of food for thought I think but I would caution people to do a little research before they throw Justice Veit under the metaphorical bus.

Been listening to and watching Eminem’s video for the song Lighters and enjoying it on a number of levels. It features Bruno mars on the chorus and Royce who along with Eminem rap and sing about overcoming some pretty intense obstacles.

Now whatever you may think about their measures of success (particularly Royce’s whose rap lyrics are not as mature as Eminem’s) there is a great deal of confidence in the music and a level of contentment that is compelling. The confidence is real, not false bravado but the kind that develops as a result of walking through fires (most of them set by the singers themselves) and coming out alive, stronger, wiser and grateful on the otherside.

I won’t post a link to the video because lyrically the song can get pretty hardcore with the language but it’s pretty easy to find for those mature enough to understand it, appreciate it and maybe even be inspired by it.

Rap, at its best, is as good as any lyrical poetry and has the same hallmarks of classic art including fearlessness. I have said it a million times and will continue to say it – fear kills creativity; fear kills art – it castrates it and makes it soft and palatable and ultimately as useless as a painting chosen to match the living room couch rather than inspire.

There is not a great deal of fear in Eminem’s lyrics but there is a powerful, continuing story of what fear did to him in the past. I find it inspiring.

I sit near the back of the small sanctuary before the service starts and ponder the stained glass window behind the altar. It takes me a while to realize that it is a depiction of Saint Thomas kneeling before the risen Christ inspecting his wounds. Of course it is – this is, after all, St. Thomas Anglican Church…but I tend to forget these important details in my dazed walk through life.

I wonder who would name a church after a doubter but after a brief web search this evening it seems quite a number of people. There are 121,000 instances of the exact phrase “St. Thomas Anglican Church”.

It seems appropriate in an odd way though. I have always been a “head” Christian and have always struggled with the “heart”. Thomas may have understood this – seeking to have his faith confirmed with concrete observation like the good skeptic he was. Christ downplayed this aspect of the faith and for good reason…it is not enough. For a moment Thomas believes he has been rewarded but it would not be long before he is likely wishing for something deeper and more satisfying than “proof”.

I am empirical that way. The frustrating thing is there is plenty of evidence that evidence just will not cut it in the end. I seek to love God with all of my mind, some of my heart, a bit of my soul, and a shred of my strength – such as it is. This is not a good place but it is a start I suppose.

How many of us wander the world with such threadbare impoverished faith. We go from place to place seeking scraps and morsels of God from others only to be satisfied briefly and thirsting for more. Wanderers in the desert seeking living water from the well that never runs dry and finding we must squeeze brackish drops from moist clay dug with all our strength from beneath the earth.

Sometimes it hardly seems worth the effort.

The alternative is less satisfying though. To turn back to the old ways; to yearn for slavery and the appetites of Gomorrah is to seek salt – forever preserved in a state of pure poisonous doubt.

Thomas is a lesson however. Christ chose followers who were representative of each of us somehow. Thomas asks and receives…he probably received more than he bargained for…I would expect his doubt was not alleviated by placing his hands in Christ’s wounds. This was what Christ was trying to tell him – “blessed are those who believe and have not seen”. In this instance I favour the translation of the Greek word makarios as happy rather than blessed. “Happy are those who believe and have not seen”.

Whatever…church was good.

There was the gathering of the faithful seeking only to bless and be blessed. There was communion with the bread and the wine…sweet, potent wine which was shared by all – pleasant on the tongue and light fire in the throat…blood and spirit; sacrifice and rebirth.

Church was good.

I appreciated the message and the readings from Exodus, Psalm 114 and Romans…particularly Romans. The theme – the greatest mark of the believer is having and exercising the attribute of forgiveness. We forgive as we are forgiven. It is never a question of who needs to forgive me – it is only a question of who I should forgive.

It goes without saying that I need to be forgiven…every second of every day. Who should I forgive? Everyone of course. But that is a vague and unsatisfying answer.

To forgive I need to know the ones I am forgiving. To know requires genuine relationship…you get the point. I have to leave my cave to do all this…I have to be in communio sanctorum.

Anyhow – all this from church…one of the reasons I go.

Church was good.