A Celebration of Weakness

From ASBO Jesus.

Kind of what I needed to hear today/yesterday/all week. Now for some sleep.

(Thank you in advance for your concerns! Inevitably when I post something remotely cryptic like this, I get comments or emails asking if I’m okay. I am okay, I am just fatigued and doing too much. It will all calm down soon. I hope.)

Healthcare

Oh dear, yes. I’m weighing in.

I haven’t been following the debate in the United States as closely as I would like to have been. I don’t know the precise wording of the bill that was voted for last night. But one thing confuses me greatly: I have been scratching my head all day wondering why so many Americans (and American Christians) are against public healthcare. What it comes down to for me is “Why would any follower of Jesus be against something that cares for the poor and less-fortunate. Isn’t that what we are supposed to do? I’m pretty sure that is the good news that Jesus came to proclaim. (The whole sight for the blind, freedom for captives, etc. thing.)

I’ve been reading a few blogs around cyberspace today, and (unsurprisingly) most of the American’s I follow are quite happy about the whole thing. The one that got me was discovering that hayfever is a preexisting condition that means you can be denied insurance in the US. Say what?! Then there is my former Bible College classmate who has joined a Facebook group that is “304,059,724 against Obama’s Healthcare takeover”. (When I last checked, they were not actually at that number yet.) One gem posted on the wall is “The government in this country cannot and should not force health care on us.” I am sure no one would force anyone to get medical treatment, though it sure would be nice to have it if you need it.

As I said in a reply to a post on Jesus Needs New PR: “I’m not asking this in a “I’m right, you’re wrong” sort of way. The last thing I want is an us/them debate. I am genuinely curious because right now this whole debate is at the top of my “Things I really do not understand what the fuss is all about” list and I want to understand.”

On target…?

Every now and then, I read my horoscope, just to see what it says. Usually, I get a good laugh over it all, the Barnum Effect ensures that I’ll see something relevant to my self each time; sometimes extent of the application is debatable. Today, however, my horoscope writer must have known that I’ve been pretty tired as of late and that all I had to eat today was 2 pieces of toast at 9am, a coffee at 10am, a Chinese pork bun at 2pm, and a burrito at 5:30pm:

You’ll find yourself in an almost permanent state of fatigue and lack of energy; but you’ll already feel a clear improvement if you see to the regularity of your meals and keep a watch on the quality of your food.

Not my finest day of food.

Things that Scare Me

Large balances on the credit card/Small balances in the bank account.

Drivers who don’t watch for pedestrians when they pull out of parking lots onto the street or when they are turning onto a busy road.

More than 40 unread items in my Google Reader.

That’s all for today.

Randoms

I am almost half way through the course work for my Masters Degree!

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I drink far more coffee than I should (I think, though I cap it at two per day and rarely get over one).

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I’m contemplating some ink.

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I like church and love being involved there, but sometimes I think I’m too involved. I’d like to have some time to hang out with people not from my church, maybe play volleyball again. Mind you, unless I had something scheduled, school would just eat up all non-spoken for time.

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I’d like to learn Chinese.

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I finished a book this weekend, Striving for the Wind by Meja Mwangi. Its a Kenyan book, so me telling you about it will probably mean nothing because I’m sure you can’t find it here unless you 1) raid my bookshelf (bad option) or 2) order it through something like AbeBooks (a site I love and from which I get most of my textbooks/other books I can’t find elsewhere). At any rate, it was an excellent read and, I thought, an interesting commentary on life in Kenya during the last few decades (post Mau Mau). Dad brought me back a few books from Kenya and I’m gradually going through them and really enjoying them all so far.

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Today is March 15. I have two wonderful friends and a step-mother (who is also wonderful. Whew, almost blew it on that one!) who entered the world today. Happy Birthday Nicole, Karen, and Colleen!

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Tonight, my goal is to get to bed before midnight. That might be a first in, oh, three weeks?

No Conviction

In answer to the questions over the meaning of this post, maybe a short parable by Peter Rollins will help to clarify my meaning. Or add confusion. It is based off of the bumper sticker that reads “If Christianity were illegal would there be enough evidence to convict you?”

Not that I’m there yet myself.

No Conviction

In a world where following Christ is decreed to be a subversive and illegal activity you have been accused of being a believer, arrested, and dragged before a court.

You have been under clandestine surveillance for some time now, and so the prosecution has been able to build up quite a case against you. They begin the trial by offering the judge dozens of photographs that show you attending church meetings, speaking at religious events, and participating in various prayer and worship services. After this, they present a selection of items that have been confiscated from your home: religious books that you own, worship CDs, and other Christian artifacts. Then they step up the pace by displaying many of the poems, pieces of prose, and journal entries that you had lovingly written concerning your faith. Finally, in closing, the prosecution offers your Bible to the judge. This is a well-worn book with scribbles, notes, drawings, and underlinings throughout, evidence, if it were needed, that you had read and reread this sacred text many times.

Throughout the case you have been sitting silently in fear and trembling. You know deep in your heart that with the large body of evidence that has been amassed by the prosecution you face the possibility of a long imprisonment or even execution. At various times throughout the proceedings you have lost all confidence and have been on the verge of standing up and denying Christ. But while this though has plagued your mind throughout the trial, you resist the temptation and remain focused.

Once the prosecution has finished presenting their case the judge proceeds to ask if you have anything to add, but you remain silent and resolute, terrified that if you open your mouth, even for a moment, you might deny the charges made against you. Like Christ, you remain silent before your accusers. In response you are led outside to wait as the judge ponders your case.

The hours pass slowly as you sit under guard in the foyer waiting to be summoned back. Eventually a young man in uniform appears and leads you into the courtroom so that you may hear the verdict and receive the word of your punishment. Once you have been seated in the dock the judge, a harsh and unyielding man, enters the room, stand before you, looks deep into your eyes and begins to speak.

“Of the charges that have been brought forward I find the accused not guilty.”

“Not guilty?” your heart freezes. Then, in a split second, the fear and terror that had moments before threatened to strip your resolve are swallowed up by confusion and rage.

Despite the surroundings, you stand defiantly before the judge and demand that he give an account concerning why you are innocent of the charges in light of the evidence.

“What evidence?” he replies in shock.

“What about the poems and prose that I wrote?” you reply.

“They simply show that you think of yourself as a poet, nothing more.”

“But what about the service I spoke at, the times I wept in church and the long, sleepless nights of prayer?”

“Evidence that you are a good speaker and actor, nothing more,” replied the judge. “It is obvious that you deluded those around you, and perhaps at times you even deluded yourself, but this foolishness is not enough to convict you in a court of law.”

“But this is madness!” you shout. “It would seem that no evidence would convince you!”

“Not so,” replies the judge as if informing you of a great, long-forgotten secret.

“The court is indifferent toward your Bible reading and church attendance; it has no concern for worship with words and a pen. Continue to develop your theology, and use it to paint pictures of love. We have no interest in such armchair artists who spend their time creating images of a better world. We exist only for those who would lay down their brush, and their life, in a Christlike endeavor to create a better world. So, until you live as Christ and his followers did, until you challenge this system and become a thorn in our side, until you die to yourself and offer your body to the flames, until then, my friend, you are no enemy of ours.”

The Season of Lent: Add More Things

Why do we, in the church community, see the need to add more to our lives during special seasons? Each Advent and Lent, I get overwhelmed by the multitude of activities available to me to help my spiritual/personal growth. Yet at the same time, we are told that these seasons are supposed to be times of renewal and reflection. Maybe I am alone in this, but I find it hard to reflect and meditate when I am constantly “doing.” Adding more to my life will not give me the increased time I need to have a meaningful contemplative lifestyle. I think that these studies are wonderful, but my real spiritual growth comes out of reflection on God, not endless discussion of some theological truth.

At the same time, these interesting studies seem to only come around during seasons like Advent and Lent, when there are already extra services at church, so it would be a shame not to take advantage of them. (Though this year I am leading a Lenten study at the Cathedral, so I can’t really get around that one.) Wouldn’t it be nice if we had our studies during Ordinary Time so we would be free to reflect and restore ourselves during Lent? Or, wouldn’t it be nice if, instead of an intense study, we had meditation time set aside during Lent. Just a thought.

Oh, Canada

I ended up going to Vancouver this weekend. It was grey and overcast, misting here and there, so the crowds weren’t as huge as they could have been.

I loved walking around downtown Vancouver and seeing clusters of people around televisions in storefronts. At one point, we passed the Bell Pavilion and there were about 25 people standing outside watching the Gold Medal game for Women’s Curling. Canada scored a point and the crowed erupted.

I was outside watching the big screen with many others as Canada’s men beat the Slovaks and advance with the gold medal game. The skytrain stations were nuts – all you needed to do was yell “Go Canada” and the place would erupt.

This afternoon, I had symphony tickets for a concert that began before the Gold Medal Men’s Hockey game was over. I was late – I watched until the end of regulation time and decided I couldn’t deal with overtime so I went to the concert. At the intermission, an usher whispered to one person that Canada had won and soon everyone was clapping. I checked my phone, and sure enough, a text message: “Crosby scored in OT. We won.”

After intermission, the conductor walked on stage and, before he had even reached his podium to introduce the next piece, the percussion began to play. Soon the entire 40-piece symphony was standing and playing O Canada. The audience stood and sang along. Leaving the theatre, suddenly there were people on streets that had previously been empty. Car horns were honking and people were waving flags and shouting.

Suddenly, a country that is proud, but reserved and quiet, is not ashamed to show their pride in a real, in-your-face sort of way. Any statistic that can be shown to promote Canada and exclaim our brilliance has been promoted by CTV and other news. Canadians have taken to the streets en masse proclaiming their pride in their athletes and their countries. Humble national pride? No, now we are a loud and proud country. And we rule the hockey rink.

Oh, Canada.