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.

Seasons

What a beautiful, sunny afternoon I had today. I walked home through the winding roads of Fairfield, soaking in the sun, the sounds of birds chirping, and the new pink and green growth emerging from brown earth and branches.

I like the change in seasons; spring always prompts me to take stock of my life and direction. Right now, I have a fairly good idea of the next year-ish, though there are some details to still be worked out. Things will always surprise me: I did not expect to go to Kenya last year, but I did and am so thankful I had that opportunity. Still, that does not stop the “J” in me from wanting to have at least a rough idea of the next 1,2,5 years… The last three or four years, around this time, have been a time of real self-reflection and exploration for me. This year is no different, however unlike the last few, I have the “itch” back: the itch to get up and go off adventuring somewhere. A year and a half from now, I will be completed my degree and practicum and will be able to register with a governing body and practice. Then what?

Saturday Night’s (Not) Alright

It is Saturday night. I am at home finishing writing a paper due tomorrow instead of going to either the Pacific Baroque Festival or the Harry Manx Concert. I briefly left the house this evening to visit my local grocery store for sustenance. On the way, I smelt the kids smoking pot in the bushes along the pathway and the sweet aroma of newly fertilized flower beds outside of the paint shop. Instead of getting the usual crap to munch on whilst writing, I managed to leave with tomato juice and carrot sticks. I’m not sure what is wrong with me.

60

I foolishly used the premium photo last year. In any case, today marks a milestone for my father: he is 60 years young! Happy Birthday Daddy!

Last year, I shared some stories; this year, I will share some pictures. I’ll also add that I am blessed to be the daughter of such a wonderful, loving father. Love you.

First time Dad…

Second time Dad…

Dad visiting me in Fiji

Dad really likes his CocaCola… he’ll even dress up like a bandit to get it.
There are no words to describe how much I love this photo. Its actually from Dad in Mali with CRWRC.

Dad in Kenya with CRWRC – hanging out with the men.

Dad and his girls in Kenya. 🙂

Routines Part deux

The other day, I wrote about my bus routine.

This week, my work schedule has been thrown off due to a coworker needing time off for a funeral. I’m only too glad to shift things up for that sort of reason. Consequently, I had yesterday off and found myself taking a different bus downtown in time for choir practice. Cue the shock of my life when I step onto the bus and spot young mum who I usually see on the other bus, this time with no child.

I have now figured it out! She is a UVic student, leaves school on the bus from campus, gets off and picks up son at day care before catching the other bus two blocks over that will take her downtown. And I’m not a stalker.

Peoples lives are so interesting.

Thoughts

Life.
It is constantly changing yet stays the same.
It provides excitement and disappointment.
There are opportunities and there are challenges.
People come and people go.
In the end, what do you have except yourself?
And the people who care about you.

Routines

I can’t decide if I like routine or not.

Over the last few years, the one letter that has changed back and forth on my Myers-Briggs type is the one governing routine versus spontaneity. Currently, the routine side is winning.

***

Every Wednesday at 4:45pm, I rush out of work to catch the 4:46 bus that takes me downtown to choir practice. The last two weeks it has been late, consequently I have been late. It throws me off and can annoy me; I find myself obsessively checking my watch when that happens.

Half way between McKenzie and Hillside, a young mother and her son get on the bus. She cannot be as old as me and her son isn’t more than three or four. They have a great relationship and the mother is so patient with her son. He always seems very excited to be on the bus: each time is like his first time.

Once, I saw them opt to wait for the next bus because the 4:46 was on the full side. I probably wouldn’t do that because I am usually in a hurry.

Today, I took the bus downtown. It was an hour earlier than I catch it on Wednesdays, though the bus was still late. I am not sure I have ever caught that particular bus before as Thursdays are my day of doing lots of things – no routine. About half way between McKenzie and Hillside, the young mum and her son got on. The same pair as on the 4:46 Wednesday bus; the same place they always catch it.

I had a hard time not staring. Do they always take the earlier bus on Thursdays? Or was this a change in their routine as well? Crazy random happenstance?

Either way, it made me think about routines. I will look for them again next Wednesday.

Dawning of a Brand New Year

Christmas, New Westminster

So what if it is January 3 and it has taken me this long to write anything about the new year. Aside from a New Years Eve party that continued until 2am, it feels like the new year has entered with more of a fizzle than a pop; it seems no different than last week.

If anything, I’m more stressed than I was last week.

The next course starts tomorrow and I’ve already been doing readings in preparation for it. Gone are the days when I bought the text book a week or two into the course and read it the day before the final exam. I seem to be working more this week than I have in previous weeks and I have meetings. With the busy advent season over (does anyone else find it ironic that our two church seasons of slowing down and contemplation – advent and lent – seem to the be the busiest time in the church calendar?) meetings that were put on hold are starting up once again. Now is when I discover just how busy I will be with various committees and commitments.

Is it more helpful to look ahead or to dwell in the moment? Some would remind that looking ahead prepares one for what is to come. It can also cause undue anxiety. Others suggest that to dwell in the moment and live each day for what it offers without looking too far ahead (consider the lilies of the field…?) is the supreme way to live ones life. I find that a good balance of the two works well… usually…

What, then, am I looking forward to this year?

  • By this time next year, I will be more than two-thirds of the way through my degree (I think, if I’ve calculated it correctly).
  • My cousin is getting married in the spring. I get to go to Montreal.
  • Ten year high school reunion (holy cow!).
  • Work, work, work.
  • Hosting a conference with Brian McLaren and Steve Bell
  • A possible road trip around BC and Alberta.
  • Sailing.
  • Visiting our Anglican friends in Burma.
  • Having a full summer in Victoria for the first time in… ever?
  • Spending time with family and friends.