Metropolitan United Church

   The radio documentary told of a makeshift, fly-by-night radio station operated by peasants in the Philippines. Their simple storefront had been bombed in the night. The government refused to follow up on the crime. Local hosts and programmers recognized the danger and fled. Soon however they were back. New batteries and a flimsy set of borrowed wires afforded them a fresh voice in the small peasant towns. One broadcast restablished their presence. It also brought the army converging on their signal. This whole story has the smell of church about it.

  It is time again to replace the car. How the years of a lease fly. We've explored several avenues researching similar types of vehicle. Each has its minor differences, but the concept beneath them remains the same. They are all geared to use, style, range of options, affordability and popular appeal. What we choose must carry us safely into our future.

  The same is true of systems of belief. There is only one range of human experiences, vast though it be, and one range of sharing those experiences, broad though it is. When we seek meaning we form concepts and tell stories out of that range of experience using common words and ideas. Without these there would be no shared meaning, no connection.

  One thing about the good-old, old days is that the folk back then told some really remarkable stories. They were so wild and deep its a wonder anyone slept at night. Woods were haunted. Wild creatures changed shape and intent at will. Most days you couldn't make it home without fighting some feisty and formidable force for your very life. That sure is a long way from our nine-to-five.

This Poem was inspired by a few things.. Firstly my love for Jesus.., Reverend Gary Redcliffe, and his progression of who Jesus is.. The first time.. Jesus is our Brother and transpired into and the last mention, Jesus is our Companion.. Yes, Reverend Gary.. This is who Jesus is to me..

Inspiration for this Poem also came from sitting at Wasaga Beach, for the last 4 years (summers), listening to favourite music.. Very beautiful Pilate! (Pilot Speed) Music.. Pilot Speed's Music has been very inspiring for me..

   Mythmaker, Joseph Campbell, in describing the father-figure deity of the Celtic pantheon, Cernunno, or, (to the Irish), Dagda, tells of an imposing figure bearing antlers and carrying a sack from which pours a river of grain. In the Irish version he is even portrayed as a clown. Campbell's comments that " it is a profound trait of Celtic or Germanic culture that the greatest of their gods and goddesses appear in manifestations that suggest no relation whatever to religion." Imagine that, a God freed from religion! 

  My looking at lectionary texts for the autumn while the Russians wage war and the Western Allies refuse peace, makes my efforts seem a bit like spinning cotton-candy in a hurricane. My being on sabbatical, and out of the loop as all this is going on, also leaves me singularily vulnerable to its impact. I haven't the shoulder-to-the-grindstone. mind-on-the Bible work of the church to blunt the blow. So I am realizing some things I didn't see.

   Big money is a lot bigger than I imagined. Why I never caught on to this is beyond me. I always assumed that people were more or less at the same level and that it was just a matter of choice as to how you spent your money. If you want groceries you buy them. If you want a Rolls Royce you by it! (Now, I do exaggerate to make a point. I am aware of the grinding poverty found in most of the world, and acknowledge it to be a deeply-rooted, systemic injustice of divine proportions. Indeed, if we are judged for anything, when all is said and done, it will be for our unwillingness to share the wealth).

   Older people often say that they have suddenly become invisible. After decades of work, service, leadership, engagement and effort, they are now almost unseen. Personal power has waned. Place in society has shifted. Ability to keep up has changed; indeed the desire to have and to do the newest thing slips away. I spoke to a long-standing professional man the other night who told me that after a lifetime of hard work in his field, he counts it as time misspent. Indeed he refused to pay for his daughter's education were she to enter the profession he chose. Those are strong feelings.

   What a week! The polar caps are melting faster than we ever imagined. The air is as thick as soot in China. A Serbian warlord refuses to acknowledge his crimes, or the authority of the World Court, and is lauded by scores of his countrymen. A notorious Canadian serial killer is auctioning off personal items on an international website. Wars, rebellions, border disputes and gang fights drag on and on in Iraq, Afghanistan, the Middle East, Darfur, Latin America, Mexico, Indonesia, Thailand, the Arctic Circle and along streets we drive every day. I have a bad feeling about this.

   Which is more important, belief or response? This decision seems to be the great watershed. To ride the rivers of belief takes you to a sea of structures, to systems meant to get you through life and beyond. To slide down the waterfalls of response brings you to an ocean of gathered experiences, and to a host of unrelated people who have reached out, touched the moment and changed their world.