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A recent newspaper article showed clearly what too many of us have long known. When it comes to religion our young people know little about their own or others. Indeed Canadian youth finished away down the list on the world scene. This is due in part to the pervasive world view that swamps us all. It is a religion in its own right. Its god is “Success” in all its forms. Its priests and seers parade their liturgies in board rooms and the mass media. Its blessings are seen in the imagined life of luscious things, and its punishments are found in the distain we hold for those who fall between the cracks and those who seem to care little for its precepts.
Another cause lies in the churches’ docile acceptance of decades of decline and disinterest. Rather than reshaping the message to highlight its life-giving gifts, we let it go assuming that others will pick up the themes elsewhere. Even among the adults of the mainline churches little hard work or deep sharing occurs in order to scrape the grit off the Gospel and let it shine.
What remains is a loose covering of simple agreements within which we express or neglect our own personal versions of faith. Push any of us very far and most would have difficulty explaining in detail the riches, history, concepts and significance of our religion. This has gone so far that to turn the tide will involve beginning again, from scratch, with simple things in detail, weaving a new fabric of meaning. Is anyone willing to commit to such a venture? It would mean a slow start, a blunt confession of meager tools, and a steep climb. There is no other way. The weave of religion can be the richest thing we ever wear. But a cheap, shoddy version of it denigrates God, the Gospel and us.
We cannot leave this to the conservative-evangelical wing of the church. Its view is too small, too harsh and too inward looking. The catholic/orthodox segment is mired in structural, systemic maintenance. Nor can we continue with the status quo giving “carte blanche” to the cultural god who steals ours soul for lesser things. To do that is to close the priceless treasure-room of faith and walk away.
In my own mind, even after forty years of professional leadership in the church, my understanding of our faith is piecemeal. No clear curriculum that embraces real life, human experience, traditions, theological depth, the arts, great literature and the richness of human thought is waiting at the horizon. Yet we, even in our simplicity, must pledge to make a start, for the sake of the malnourished child in all of us, baldly named in the press, so bright in the smartness of today, yet so ignorant in the costly gifts that embrace eternity.
Sameness breeds boredom. Boredom screams a lack of life. People cannot bear to be bored, so they die in the hands of boring things, or run from them as if the Devil himself were sucking the life from them.
Systems can be boring, and jobs can, and people, and family relationships, and particular decades, and geographical locations, and even our range of thought.
The church can be boring. That is the crime of the century. At the heart of our message is the conviction that the Day of the Lord has come. What could ever be boring after that?
The text isn’t about Jesus, but about Jesus as a sign of the Day of the Lord. If we see him, we see it. The miracles are not about Jesus’ magical powers but about the Day of the Lord. The miracles are what happen when life at last ceases to be boring.
The teachings are not just more things to keep your nose clean, but are a fitness program to get you ready to live an unboring life in the Day of the Lord.
The basic transformation in people of faith was from boringly predictable to open-ended. Anything can happen. It is like rain after drought. You don’t speculate, or preach or posture. You just get yourselves out there in any configuration necessary to receive the water.
So if it really is not boring, but the Day of the Lord is here with all its amazing variety and stimulation then it is HIGH TIME.
It is high time to stop looking in the Bible as if it has all the answers. It is the Day of the Lord. Life has the answers.
It is high time to imagine that many ways of living contain avenues of grace. It is not just found in the upright, the squeaky-clean and the careful.
It is high time to reject systems that keep people from their God-given gifts of leadership and participation. No more all-male priesthoods, or boards room reserved for wealth, or only the young, or never the young, or only women’s voices, or the straight, or the white or the black, or the gay.
It is high time to shame those who will not help themselves to stand. This is their only time in the Day of Lord. To fall, swoon and languish is to waste everything.
It is high time to push the edges, to try new things, to stand up to criticism and silence it when your motivation is deep and true.
It is easy to live without ever realizing the power of our root conviction. Thousands do. The Day of the Lord then remains a myth, a pipe-dream, or an illusion. All that is left for us is a frantic scramble away from creeping and undefeatable boredom.
That is to die by inches. It is high time we staunched such a drip of such a slow cultural suicide.
Am so grateful I was taught to preach from a lectionary. That is the offering of four scripture passages each week, all year long. It is a recipe for rich fare. To preach from the New Testament alone is to make the story smaller than it is. It can lead us to feel that we are members in an exclusive club. The world may be fraught with storms and rage, but we are safe in the arms of Jesus.
To miss the Old Testament is to short-circuit the thought and faith of the New Testament writers. They saw and understood the story of Jesus only from its Old Testament origins. He is the Promised One, the Messianic Figure, the Davidic King, the one who ushers in the Day of the Lord. He is he sign of God’s judgment and mercy. He is the One who leads the people to the Promised Land. Without the Old Testament anchorage and perspective, we are dealing with an alien Savior from somewhere out in space, or from the rococo figments of our own imagination.
The Old Testament takes us out into real life. The trials and troubles of home and village and empire are all over its pages. Human feelings run wild there. Songs of praise and lament greet our ears. Our hearts are set trembling by the mercy of God and by God’s silent distance. The simple life-truths are found there: It doesn’t add up. We do have to wait. Sometimes we lose everything. There is no answer that will go deep enough, and that there is rescue, sure, total, and unexpected from a grace that is beyond our telling.
These days, people avoid the churches because the message is too small for their real lives, and too artificial for their real experiences. A good dose of prophetic truth, costly social witness, rueful lament, and uncontrollable praise will go a long way towards linking life with its eternal qualities. We owe this to ourselves and others. It is our true heritage. The Old Testament holds the key as it always has.
It is not our meeting.
All the big decisions are made in many other places.
There is more to life than economics and government.
It is prudent to stay out of the line of fire.
Those in authority are pledged to act under the law.
It is foolish to invite trouble into the heart of a tightly-packed, populous city.
We are animals with animal natures.
No one likes to be told what to do.
We never learn for long enough.
Young people are too young to command the streets.
The media are self-serving.
Nobody saw us as we really are.
This is no place for the thrill-seeker or the simply curious.
It is so easy to get in over your head.
The money could have been better used, but would not have been.
Poverty, crime, injustice, and unanswered human rights will not be solved by chanting, or shouting or acting-out, if at all.
The cycles of time and nature are still in play and will take us other places.
The response of faith is about prudent awareness.
As the G 20 gathering looms over our city like a rising wind before a coming storm, our people are taking shelter. Some in escape, others in a change of scene, still others in a forced and artificial sense of normalcy. We depend on our wits and our planning. We stand behind law enforcement officers and security perimeters. We hope that the best of human nature will display itself in kindness, reason and cool-headedness. We believe in our ability to dream big, act fairly and put our best visions into action. The cost of success is enormous. The cost of failure is unthinkable.
What say you of our chances? What fabric is in us to do the right thing? Have we become too hard or too soft? Is our culture blind to the simple calls for justice and sharing and the universal gifts of earth seas and sky? Are we past the tipping-point? Hurt and harm are in the neighbourhood. Those too angry to show reason and too broken to show health are at the fences. Violence and pain curse aloud above the sounds of traffic. These voices are with us all the while but dare to cry out all the more when the stakes are so high and the power so concentrated.
Of all the players, high or low born, is there one whose presence has not been rightly measured? Do we dare acknowledge the Holy, the Power of the Universe, the Will of the Sacred, the Movement of the Spheres, of the Times, of the Heart as it works its weaving?
Do we leave room for surprise, for that strange and unexpected voice or that odd and unforeseen turn? Who knows whose heart will be warmed and whose spine stiffened? Who knows what sadness will bring goodness, and what bluster and bombast will come to nothing but a clearer path in another direction?
The ancients knew full well that this Sacred World comes uninvited and unbidden to all and every gathering, and looks there for eyes to see, ears to hear and lips to speak. This is the place of true shelter and the one great hope for the world that underlies all drives for success and overcomes all fears of failure.
I got a recall notice on my car. It seems the braking system may prove spongy. I’ll have to take it in. It got me thinking about the rest of life. If recall notices for living were given out, what might your letter say?
Perhaps mine might invite me to retune my mouth. Being in the work of public speech and concentrating on issues of life, death and meaning, it might be a good thing to have my mouth examined. Do I mean what I say, or is my system clogged with gunk from years of excuses, self-interest, fear, or a desire to pander?
Perhaps they’d be after my odometer. Has my use of time, given my freedom to be responsible, measured up to the expectations rightly placed upon me? Or they might check my brake pads, seeing as the Gospel is such a moving thing. Have I been dragging my feet on exploring and proclaiming its glories? What about the spark plugs? Is there a lifeless plodding in my steps that indicates the gap is too restricted or too wide?
Is my windshield cracked? Have I become so used to seeing only part of the picture that I look out from the same perspective every day? What kind of world am I projecting, and what expanse am I missing?
Is the vehicle clean or full of junk? There is nothing worse than clutter to stagger a life. More time may be spent on self-deprecation and endless sorting than on driving towards a goal.
Is the passenger seat far too pristine? Do I talk to anyone about my feelings, dreams, goals and fears? Surely some hearty companions for the road are more than ready to ride along. It makes the trip so much shorter and so much more enjoyable.
Am I tuned for the seasons? All is not sunny and warm. Sometimes it rains. Sometimes it snows and blows. Sometimes you just want to hole up at home. Are my summer expectations too small for the reality of a four–seasoned life?
The recall letter arrives free and the repairs are offered under warranty. That does not mean that we will not have to set aside time for the needs to be assessed and the work done. The risks of driving unsafe and under-maintained vehicles involve both the driver and all whom he or she meets on the road. From leaks to lapses the terrain out there is treacherous.
“The unexamined life is not worth living.” Life itself puts the recall letters regularly through our doors. They are not junk mail or flyers. They really do offer to make a difference in everything we are and do.
We've been picking up shells on the beach. It suddenly struck me how fascinating they are. These hard and beautiful objects were created by a living organism from its own body. In order to protect itself it has surround itself with a perimeter fence.
As I walked I began to wonder about our perimeter fences. We have personality, friends, social status, wealth, weapons and a social contract with the rest of our tribe. We have health protection plans, and fire and police services, and an expectation of general good will.
Is the Gospel some kind of perimeter fence? Do we use it to give ourselves a sense of ultimate protection in God? Over the centuries the church institution has turned it into a policy for life, and eternal life. It also expected us to pay the premiums.
To my mind, the Gospel was first a tale of hope in the face of tyranny. It claimed that the deeper humanity we possess and long to fulfill is alive and well, and resilient, even in the face of terror and death. That to me affords moments of freedom such that any shell we create can be laid aside and we can finally stand as we are, against the threat of anything.
All the other shells we have made with our courage, cunning and creativity are never far away, and there is real comfort in wearing them, but occasionally to feel the sea of life rolling over our true selves is an experience that demands our full range and feeds our eternal spirit, as no guarded life ever can. The faith we follow as we gather as church is about that deeper freedom of the unguarded life lived in a certainty which no enemy can ever defeat
Turning again for home the internal shift begins. We move from driving on the left to driving on the right. That is a good thing because I will no longer be shocked at seeing no one sitting where the driver is supposed to be. No more will we need to step out into the street and look right from which the hoards of traffic come. No more will we enjoy the trams sliding by, clanging their bells at cars wandering onto their tracks, or wait for the rapid, “tick, tick ticking” sound that indicates our turn to cross the intersection.
Our first flower of friendship with a new church will be uprooted with the lifting off our plane, and we will move from being visiting ambassadors to simply tourists a while on a well—walked beach.
At the home end of things we’ll find smiles and welcoming arms, and the threads of our life which we, for a time, were able to tie off and leave alone. The work and pleasure of longer lines, deeper friendships and more integrated responsibilities will reassert themselves, the cell phones the schedules, and the expectations. These are all good things. They are our life.
Yet there has been something deeply and wonderfully freeing in his time away, a gift of insight and energy from being in the company of strangers to whom you know you deeply belong. We met a story-teller in a book store in a small, tourist town. She knew our country well, the power of our people and their stories. “We are much alike” she said, “our two great explorer lands”. She is right. The story that this vast and warm-hearted country is writing in us is one with chapters still to be finished. We wait with expectation on our own side of the street as the internal shift begins and we turn again for home.“Do not disturb the possums. They are a protected species.” So read the sign at the pathway entrance to the great network of city gardens that grace beautiful Melbourne. A local man told me that the gardens got there not so much by good planning as by the interruption caused by a gold rush. In the mid 1800’s, city planners and draftsmen dropped their slide rules and rushed off to Ballarat to seek their fortune. When the fever left them, new people took up the pens and papers and started over. The planning discrepancies became the gardens, and they are spectacular.
My wife has been taking pictures of something every two metres since we arrived, which makes for a slow pace. “Look at the size of that tree.” She exclaimed. “Go and stretch out your arms next to it so people will see how big it really is.”’ I walked toward my goal, some giant gum tree, or elm, or oak, or something. I know it wasn’t a palm tree for there were no grass-skirted maidens swaying beneath it.
Suddenly I stopped in horror. There between the feet of the great roots lay two grey possums, end to end, and sound asleep. One opening it eyes in a bleary stare and whispers “Tourist!”, then drifted off again. “Get closer!” My mind raced back to the guide books. We’re these things poisonous? Almost everything else here is said to be: snakes, spiders, sharks, box jellyfish, salt water crocs, sting rays, seas snakes and certain shelled creatures on the beaches. I took no chances. Fortunately I was wearing my Canadian Tire, heavy-duty, steel-toed, hip waders at the time, (a precaution I always take when walking with my wife.) No possums were stepped on and no bites were registered. I was even handed a dollar by a kind stranger who presumed I must have singular needs.
The whole experience was so traumatic that I am now insisting on being driven to my church responsibilities in one of Melbourne’s horse-drawn carriages, after I’ve been convinced that the horses have had all their shots. All in all, I think we’re making an impact here. Although they may not invite us back. I haven’t even shown them my used NASA space suit I brought to wear next week in their more northerly tropics. I’m told that there even the waiters bite. More pictures to follow!
Once every spring we are treated to a picture of animals being released from the barn after a long winter under the pull of the tether. They leap, and play, and run for sheer delight. Cramped muscles stretch. Tired eyes, blurred with mindless familiarities, shine to behold a bright, broad world.
Are we now living in the springtime of a new age? The nature and nurture of our lives has sustained us through a long winter of icy structures and rutted roads, but we are so bored by them and so restless for a broader vision. A new season has arrived.
This age of internet and instant communications cuts through all hierarchies, systems and false fences. We can taste it all now, see it, and know it. The voices of the brave and unstoppable shall be heard. The jungle lives to break or bless.
We in the churches need to move with the herds. To remain tethered by choice may indicate a deep winter-sickness. The fields are our natural home and a new season to run in them is the gift of the living world to those vital enough to risk the leaping, the landing and the learning.
Let’s be proud of ourselves. As I prepare to visit a country far away I imagine the similarities and differences. Our summer is their winter. Our northern explorations are their southern placements. Our deference is their egalitarianism. Our dealings with all things American are their dealings with all things Asian. Yet we are kith and kin to them, calved from the same island glacier and sent drifting on the currents of our particular environs.
Let’s be proud of ourselves. I am happy to take what I know, and what I think I know, and lay it before whatever I find. I am prepared to be led and corrected. I am ready to be welcomed to the point of my openness. I want to see the pride of my hosts. For in their pride is their joy, their accomplishments and their daily bread.
I would be a fool to speak more than I listen, and to interpret more than I behold. My national pride does not preclude a genuine affection for the pride and particularities of others concerning their lovely and vital world.
Fast-forward to my return. Two weeks after it, the world will gather in my city for the “G Twenty” conclave. Thousands of diplomats, entourage and security personnel will make camp here. My downtown familiarities will be reshaped by strangers, pro and con. Those working to stabilize the world will bring a good heart. Those determined to change the current settings will shout out other ways and means. We’ll taste gridlock, tension, and recall bloody nightmares from past conflicts.
Let’s be proud of ourselves. Own our differences. Honour our varying experiences of life. Expect high things in tough times from people in seats of authority. Listen with new ears to those voices singing songs that go unplayed on the main public airwaves.
I would be a fool to speak more than I listen, and to interpret more than I behold. My national pride does not preclude a genuine affection for the shades, circumstances and desires of the billions with whom I share this fleeting life on our small, singular and wondrous planet.
Soon our City Council will vote to remove the last vestige of holiday store closures. Everything will be wide open every day. That got me thinking about “holiday”. The root of the word is “holy day”, and reflects a truth about human nature. When we feel something strongly enough, we mark it and take time out to remember it, celebrate it, or ponder it. The feeling precedes the social demarcation.
Other people’s holidays and high moments can become boulders in the shared modern road. They no longer have the feeling inside that reflects their traditional public recognition. Oh, high holy days from a variety of religious traditions still touch many in their communities. These are marked by them in a cultic way while the rest of us in the general cultural monolith roll on.
About all we do together is share Remembrance Day, the funerals of Tribal Icons, or the final games of big sporting events. Personally we still stop for tragedies, deaths in the family, birthdays and anniversaries, new births, summer vacations or a winter get-away. But large and hearty celebrations and the common things they deeply signify are slipping from our lives.
I cannot help but feel we are losing something of the power and depth of being together in a moment larger than all of us. Life is not small or divisible into bits we can control. We steer through the small stuff and survive the day, but we learn and become deeper and nobler in the big moments we cannot help but stop to create and then stop again to remember.
‘Tis Spring and thoughts of transformation fill the preacher’s mind, but what to do?
My wife, who is always reading, told me at breakfast today that unless I exercise at least three times a week I will be withholding fertilizer from my brain. That is a better choice than having to change my cereal into some kind of barnyard waste! So today, I shall dance.
She also said that men with low, brusque and monotonous voices are far more sexually attractive than those whose voices pitch up and down, crack, wheeze and wobble. To that I simply whispered a basso-profundo “Yup”.
So, other than eating alone in the mornings, what kind of transformation is essential these days?
.
-Cleaning the basement and getting rid of old stuff you can’t use. It weighs you down.
-Watching what you eat and drink. A few bad choices break the health and heart down the road.
-Figuring out who and what you love, and honouring them. Time is too short to waste.
-Reconsidering the richness of your family. They are you, like it or not.
-Getting closer to your heroes and feeling the power of their inspiration.
-Caring about the quality of your tribal life. Poor streets make poor days.
-Laughing and playing and imagining. Your inner life as child is all still there.
-Feeling sad when you’re sad, and mad when you’re mad. Your insides tell you truths.
-Trusting the flow that brought you here, that wakes you to wonders every day, and will take you home beyond the fearful edge of mystery.
That transformation is not simply personal. Any courageous congregation of any stripe can apply its principles to its betterment. It involves dancing to fertilize the brain, and a change in speaking voice to attract the beating heart.
“Go ahead. Make my day!”
The death we fear and from which we flee, swimming towards a shore that cannot be reached, is one of the deepest experiences we and our closest kin will ever know. Our collective fear of it has made us wild with resistance, but once it comes, and we sit awhile with its approach and its visitation, we begin to feel another rhythm at work. It moves as sadness and a sense of loss. We feel bereft and even abandoned in the world.
These are true things and hard to bear. Then, release; and slowly, memory and gratitude step forward to take our hands. Tears evoke stories and we realize the richness in which we have been raised. In time the most surprising incidents and conversations will loom largest and prove to have been the most persuasive towards our embracing the wonders of life.
As we sat in a close family circle, remembering a loved one, amid the fabric now torn, I noticed that even the youngest ones were leaning in to listen, to study the faces, to notice the glistening tears, and to hear real things through halting, loving phrases whispered in straining voices.
To deny our last few steps, out of cultural fear or personal desperation, is to forbid a completeness which is only first known in those difficult moments. No one said the whole of life is an easy, balanced walk. Yet, it gives surprises. Our late beloved told us her violets had sat unblooming season after season, as if all their secrets had been told or locked away, then in her last days of illness she noticed that they were suddenly all abloom. They flowered until her passing and continue for our sakes even now. Who could have known of such life in the face of such loss?Dr. Robert A. Raines wrote of the experience of “sweeping up the heart”. He used the phrase when telling of the afterglow of his father’s death. His family relationships displayed the warp and woof of all family clusters. Bob Raines and his Methodist bishop father had competed against, clashed with, and fiercely loved one another all the way.
Going home now to the family house was difficult. So much was the same, yet everything was different.
Over time, he talked with his siblings and with his beloved. He remembered, with his children, both the finished and unfinished business. He took home a few treasures to anchor him to his first harbour. Then, as time passed, the shattered heart rerouted, rewired and restored itself. There was still the regular beating of his own life rhythms as they unfolded through the years, and the intensity that the heart knows in the face of passion, and glory and the great prize, and I am sure one extra beat now and then, in gratitude for all that had been, rough and smooth, whole or still found as puzzle pieces.
When I met Dr. Raines, his father had been dead many years. He himself was in midlife, shining in giftedness. Now he is very old, and I am sure that his children, and indeed, all who love him, have brooms and dustpans at the ready for the sweeping up the their own hearts when time bears a favourite son away.
Yet sweep as you must, and as you do, something of greatness, of that first shining, singular greatness, remains, a spirit, a place, a mark upon the world. You take something with you too, and it leaves you nobler, stronger and more deeply yourself.
When life changes for us, and the heart breaks, listen for signs of life beyond the crisis. Sweep then, and remember and wait. There are gifts still to be known.
TO TIFF OR NOT TO TIFF
…that is the question…
The call to catch the wave of media and film is heralding the advent of a cornucopia of tales capturing the imagination and curiosity of countless thousands.
It all began Founded in 1976, the TIFF is now one of the most prestigious film festivals in the world. In 1998, Variety magazine acknowledged that "the Festival is second only to Cannes in terms of high-profile pics, stars and market activity."
This stellar event of the cinema has launched Toronto into the status of Hollywood north.
The festival has traditionally been stationed in Yorkville but this year marks its new found homestead at the BELL lightbox. The festivals permanent home in the Entertainment district.
This year the festival designers are daring to leap in unknown territory in response by for the call Canadian Content.
The Toronto International Film Festival will celebrate one of Canada's favourite pastimes at its start this year, with organizers announcing that Score: A Hockey Musical has landed the prestigious opening night gig.
The hockey-themed film, unveiled Wednesday morning at the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto, is a coming-of-age story about a sheltered teen-turned-hockey star, portrayed by Noah Reid. It is written and directed by Michael McGowan, the filmmaker behind the dramas One Week and Saint Ralph."Score: A Hockey Musical captures key elements of Canadian identity — our passion for our national pastime, our unique musical style and our special brand of humour," TIFF director and CEO Piers Handling said in a statement. "We wanted a film that was fun. to The idea of fun and whimsical is not new to the festival. The festival designers felt that the time was ripe to respond to the call to return to humour.
The return or revisting in our own lives to the crossroads or the familiar road that we have walked upon and attempted to escape but really never truly leave behind.
I am reminded each day of the week as I listen with people over a coffee, tea or glass of wine. The listening and hearing and respond is something akin to touching the core of the mystery that lurks inside each one of us.
The one who is aching in every limb, worn out by the effort of a day of work, that is to say a day when they have been subject to matter, bears the reality of the universe in their flesh like a thorn. The difficulty for look is to look and to love. If they succeed, they love the Real.
The real is the core of the TIFF festival. Each film moves beyond the realm of popular Hollywood pop culture but rather breaks open the core and takes the pulse of society and catches the rhythm and the breath in the moment.
We find in the wake of world catastrophes of flood, drought and trapped miners. Something is kindles in the core of the care as the treasure of trust reveals to the need to step outside ourselves and grip the groove
of the heartbeat of our lives and find that the TIFF offers the window on the world bringing the distant horizons to forefront of here and now. The TIFF offers a fresh lens to the theme of parable and confronting us with the greatness of goodnews. In the church we are invited to touch the core of this community through the opening door of our. community
In the next week purchase your popcorn, settle into your seat and meet the tale the touches the deep rooted us of life, may we find our lives changing course slightly to meet the harbour that is sanctuary.
A TIME FOR PAKISTAN
Every day we open the page of the morning news to find new disasters that rip our core of care into action. Haiti was only yesterday now we learn of the torrential rain of Pakistan.
Flooding is present in over one fifth of the country, causing contamination, illness and homelessness. The cries of the people are being heard around the world.
Now is the time to act and respond.
The Prayer Vigil at Metropolitan United Church IS POSTPONED
for Thursday August 26, 8 pm .
Hosted by Metropolitan United Church and Facilitated by the Toronto Area Interfaith Council
United Church Launches an Emergency Appeal for Pakistan
Pakistan continues to struggle in response to massive flooding, which has affected an estimated 20 million people. Continuing monsoon rains have washed away roads and bridges and are hampering relief efforts. The rains also sometimes make it impossible for relief and rescue helicopters to reach stranded communities.
The United Church of Canada, together with other members of the global ACT Alliance, is continuing to monitor and respond to the crisis. As a result of donations made by its members, the United Church sent $25,000 to ACT immediately following initial news of the crisis, and has now sent an additional $40,000 also to be used for ACT’s work on the ground.
ACT members in Pakistan are working diligently to deliver assistance including food, water, tents, kitchen kits, hygiene kits, mosquito nets, and emergency medical care.
The United Church has also contributed $75,000 through its membership in the Canadian Foodgrains Bank (CFGB). The funds will be used for a multi–CFGB member supported project that will provide food kits containing rice, lentils, flour, oil, sugar, salt, tea, and spices.
The United Church will receive donations to its Emergency Response Fund and channel these through the ACT Alliance to provide a coordinated response with other church organizations.
How United Church members can help:
Pray: Hold the people of Pakistan and their families around the world in prayer.
Donate: Designate a gift for “Pakistan Flood Relief.” As part of the United Church's Emergency Response Fund, 85 percent of your donation will go directly to emergency response in Pakistan. Fifteen percent will be used to support emergencies that do not receive intense media coverage and response. No administration fees will be deducted from your donation. Regular donations to the Mission and Service Fund enable the United Church to absorb staffing and administration costs of emergency response work.
Individuals are invited to contribute to the United Church’s Pakistan appeal either through their local congregation or directly to The United Church of Canada’s national office: 3250 Bloor St. West, Suite 300, Toronto, ON M8X 2Y4.
Online donations can be made at www.united-church.ca/pakistan.
Cheques and online donations should be made payable to The United Church of Canada and marked “Pakistan Flood Relief.”
Donations made by United Church members and congregations to the Pakistan appeal are considered “over and above” gifts to the United Church’s wider work, and so they are not recorded as part of a congregation’s Mission and Service Fund giving. But they are eligible for tax receipts. Congregational treasurers may receive and receipt individual cheques and then forward one congregational cheque to the United Church, attention “Pakistan Flood Relief.”
Additional background material related to the United Church’s Pakistan appeal has been posted on The United Church of Canada’s website (www.united-church.ca/pakistan). Please watch for updates as new information becomes available.
For more information, contact:
Gary Kenny
Program Coordinator, Emergency Response
The United Church of Canada
Tel: 416-231-7680 ext. 4051
Toll-free: 1-800-268-3781 ext. 4051
E-mail:
This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
This is the season where have the opportunity to take a time out.
This is the season where we have the opportunity to become tourists in our own city and take a moment turn a corner and find the wonderlust ready to meet us. It was the month of July where we took the time out to explore the Royal Ontario Museum, specifically the Terra Cotta Army Exhibit. www.rom.on.ca/terracottaarmy/en/exhibition/
In 1974, farmers in northern China accidentally unearthed fragments of a terracotta figure - the first evidence of what would turn out to be one of the greatest archaeological finds in history. The terracotta army pits of the Warrior Emperor Ying Zheng.
Powerful and ambitious, Ying Zheng was the first Emperor of China, coming to power initially as the King of Qin at the age of 13. During his reign he built an empire which at its height rivalled that of Rome's, and would prove to be more enduring.
Buried 2,200 years ago in what is now China's northern Shaanxi province, the First Emperor surrounded himself with nearly 8,000 full sized terracotta warriors and horses in magnificent military formations, along with many other artifacts, in preparation for the afterlife. The warriors are often referenced as the eighth wonder of the world and in 1987 the site was added to the official list of World Heritage Sites by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO).
This is the season to open the door and find the mystery inside. Stepping back into the annals of Chinese history reminded me that there is a fascination for many with the buried past and the countless thousands of artifacts and relics of the work. These remnants of yesteryear speak the time before in the age that is now.
In the context of the terracotta warriors we ask the question “why?” Why would an emperor decree that 8,200 life size statues be buried him for the next life.
The monumental task stands counterpoint to the daily grind that we all face.
It is as infinitesimal as a grain of sand on the seashore. I am reminded that we are not the final step in our own winding road rather we are the summation of all who have gone before us. We stand on the shoulders of our ancestors.
This is the season to step outside the grindstone and rediscover ourselves as the grain of sand on great shore.
It was over two millennia ago that young man from the House of David decreed
“The first shall be last and the last shall be first” and “Where your treasure is there your heart will be also”
The treasure of the Warrior Emperor Ying Zheng was buried for centuries and stands the test of time. The creation of this Terra Cotta Army is a living epitaph to an ancient and modern civilization. This is the truth for him that meets the truth for us.
The Emperor is dust, his memory lives on and we here the wisdom the years. Greatness is not measure by the breadth of our deeds but the action of our hearts.
This is the season to step outside and take a look inside and see the grain of sand
Forming the shoreline of sea.
The G20 is almost packed up and put away for another country and another discussion.
Many ask what was accomplished. I have spoken with dozens of police officers who speak of aftermath. People on the sidelines speak of devastation.
What have we learned?
This week is Pride week a complete paradox of the G20.
Pride speaks of rainbows and welcome with this year’s theme being “YOU BELONG”. Pride speaks to the welcome and embrace of all people regardless of orientation. Saying yes to the LGBTQ community embrace all people in this City of Toronto. Pride pushes back at the phobias of our world that lead to the “isms” of separation. Pride speaks of building bridges and opening doors.
The herald of Pride speaks the message of prepare and make ready for all world and society that welcomes all people.
The paradox of pride in contrast to the G20 is that the organizers postponed Pride by one week to make room for the G20. Perhaps Pride week, Pride day and Pride moments could have been a living testimony to what society could stand for instead and leading to confrontation but rather extending the hand of invitation and welcome.
This year the United Church builds a Pride Float with theme “THE VILLAGE CHURCH –YOU BELONG”.
As the United holds space in the Pride Parade there is a door being held open saying “Come on you are welcome to the village Church where you belong”
CYCLING- FREEDOM 47
It is said that the wheel of life invites us to participate in the season of beginning and ending and with each turn we discover and new facet of ourselves. The wheel was invented centuries ago and with its advent came a revolution in transportation.y
The first evidence of wheeled vehicles appears from the mid 4th millenium BCE, near-simultaneously in Mesopotamia, the Northern Caucasus (Maykop Culture) and Central Europe, and so the question of which culture originally invented the wheeled vehicle remains unresolved and under debate. The wheel has provided mechanism for transportation and has evolved from wagon, chariot, bicycle and automobile. Each transition witnessed a paradigm shift about time and perspective and destination. We seek to travel from one destination to the next. Previously we attempted journeys on foot or on water. The water increased the speed and length that a distance could be attained.
Each age witnessed fresh inventions to extend the boundaries of transportation. Recently there has been rediscovery of the bicycle in our North American landscape as a preferred mode of transportation. The bicycle is not only for children and youth but also adults. The purpose is to decrease the carbon footprint and to get outside and rev up the cardio muscle to provide the necessary mechanism for the deficit in physical fitness. I have promised myself for the past few years to take the plunge and ride my bicycle for more than leisure. I have witnessed countless hundreds taking to the road. One particular friend stood apart as a model for fitness that set high the benchmark taking the challenge to lead by example and ride the wheels in rain, sun and sleet.
For me the stumbling block had been what to wear when it rains. Simply put the staggering price of a Gortex riding shell seemed a bit off putting. So off to Eddy Bauer another store of sport and fitness to find the water proof riding shell at a modest price and made the purchase. Now I was set. The next step included reducing from two cars to one. We live in Cabbagetown 10 mins from the gymn and 10 minutes from Metropolitan United Church. It seemed absurd to take a vehicle. Now the excuses were reduced once more.
I took the plunge riding the roads of the downtown have been exhilarating and filled with adventure. There is something unique about reading the contours of the road from the perspective of a cyclist it is quite unique. There is anticipation at every turn. No longer are we covered with the metal shield exterior of the motor vehicle. There is the invitation to step outside into the world of the vagabond and freedom 47. Yes I will be 47 years of Age on August 7. For some that is vastly young while countless others it is older.
To turn 47 is a delight. There is a great freedom in riding a bicycle in this decade perhaps it is my version of midlife challenge. Well let it be so, it is certainly more affordable than a sports car and it is my taking a responsible role in reducing the carbon footprint and gripping the handles (not love handles) of cardio fitness.
I have noticed that I am more aware of pedestrians and construction can be a monumental obstacle. The point of navigating and taking road bearings as to uphill, downhill or broken way is so keen and important.
The ride on the wheels provides time for reflection there is no radio and even hands free mobile phones present a challenge. The call is simply my life, and listen to the call of the road and the wind in my face.
I think of the words that came so long ago when I heard the call to faith
Luke 9:57
As they were going along the road, someone said to him, "I will follow you wherever you go."
The call of cycling is a reawakening for me and many others. The bicycle takes us out of the metal shell and onto the streets to rediscover another facet of our urban neighbour. That is for me as I turn 47 years of age this year FREEDOM 47.
It all began half a world away in Johannesburg, South Africa. Millions are rivoted to the black and white ball on the green field.
The world championship games began long ago.. The cup was designed and made by a French sculptor, Abel Lafleur. 30 cm in height, weighing 1, 82 kg and made of pure gold, the sculpture depicted Nike of Samothrace (Winged Victory). In 1950 the statuette was named the Jules Rimet Cup after its founder. It was a trophy passed on to each winner and the team to win the tournament three times got to keep it (Brazil achieved this in 1970). In 1983 the Cup was stolen and it has never been found. The tournament using Jules Rimet Cup was organized for a total of 9 times from 1930 to 1970. The tournament is being organized once in every four years.
The game invites views to gaze down the contours of the field holding the myriad of flags tightly in. the fist of the patrons eagerly waiting for the goal and the kick to take the prize of the play.
We turn to streets and avenues in our fair city of Toronto and witness the league of many nations on the cars and pedestrians of many. From Flag waving to wrist band wearing, people make a choice a pick a country of origin or a nation of affiliation. Something happens when the whistle of the Referee blows. There are more than players running down the field. People are running the gauntlet of the angst and dreams.
The events remind me of the tale of Invictus where Nelson Mandela took hold of the sport of Rugby to galvanize a divided nation. People become united in the kick of a player.
For me who is a intermittent athlete and sports I find these times spellbinding drawing myself and others to step outside of themselves and reach across the world and touch our neighbours of many lands.
Mark 12:31
“The second is this, “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” These are the words of the carpentar who sought to build a world with architecture of compassion reaching across the differences that divide but also make us unique and provide the rare quality of inviting celebration of who we are as the neighbour.
Put your hand in the hand of Fifa and find something happening and taking hold as we recognize each other on the same play as people of the world.
A three metre high fence is being erected in the security area.
The fence will be erected in the weeks leading up to the
Torontonians who live and work within this area have been offered a Registration Card in order to facilitate quick passage through the security checkpoints that will be part of the Toronto Police Service security perimeter.
These are being erected to keep the area secure. Many are questioning the necessity of spending over 1 billion dollars in security needs.
“ I ask the question if this was a sporting event would there be any moment for criticism?”
As we step back from the foreground and ponder the event. The Group includes Twenty Finance Ministers and Central Bank Governors (known as the G-20 and also the G20.
Membership
The G-20 is made up of the finance ministers and central bank governors of 19 countries:
The G20 is working toward establishment of specific baseline principles. The g 20 and a Coalition of 21 developing countries pushing for a reduction of trade-distorting farm subsidies and for greater access to industrialized country
The Group of Twenty (G-20) Finance Ministers and Central Bank Governors was established in 1999 to bring together systemically important industrialized and developing economies to discuss key issues in the global economy. The inaugural meeting of the G-20 took place in Berlin, on December 15-16, 1999, hosted by German and Canadian finance ministers.
The G-20 is the premier forum for our international economic development that promotes open and constructive discussion between industrial and emerging-market countries on key issues related to global economic stability. By contributing to the strengthening of the international financial architecture and providing opportunities for dialogue on national policies, international co-operation, and international financial institutions, the G-20 helps to support growth and development across the globe.
The G-20 was created as a response both to the financial crises of the late 1990s and to a growing recognition that key emerging-market countries were not adequately included in the core of global economic discussion and governance.
There are many who ask Shakespeare’s question “to be or not to be whether to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. “ Further still Paul Hellyer in his most recent work
Light at the End of the Tunnel He refers to the insight of Thomas Jefferson who wrote in 1802
“I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies. If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their currency, first by inflation, then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around the banks will deprive the people of all property until their children wake-up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered.” We have arrived at the point of many crossroads where we take inventory. It has been said that many have criticized the Canadian banking system for being too cautious.
I am not an economist but one does not need to look to far to realize that Canada as a nation has the weathered the recent economic storm fairly well.
I ask the question does presence of the G20 gathering in Toronto brings the leading nations of the world and in the wake of the great ship tens of thousands of radical protesters screaming from the core of the being ready to stand in the road of this G20 machine.
The conversations of this G20 are a buzz in every corner. Why here and why now? And what for?
Some are objecting to the presence of the protestors even being aloud to a hold a forum and yet we are reminded that we live in a land where freedom of speech is a particular value that we hold true. One may ask is it ever valid to protest? In the annals of recent history we may recall the Abolitionist movement of the 19th century, the Suffraget movement of the early 20th century and the protest of Jane Jacobs who brought to a grinding halt the machine of the Spadina Expressway.
There was a particular person from Galilee who spoke to this theme of standing firm and taking notice from the forum of a mountain centuries ago
Matthew 5:1-9
When Jesus* saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. ‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. ‘Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
An additional point about the protesters is that we find in the advent of the G20 that protesters are already massing to challenge the mandate of the G20 in the wake of many catastrophic crises that a rippling throughout the world.
One of the first being the Oil spill in the gulf and a close second the Israel and Palestine conflict that continues to be unresolved.
I ask the question is the G20 perhaps an opportunity to showcase Toronto and Canadian society to the world and say, “LOOK WHAT CAN BE DONE”. We have one of the most culturally diverse cities in the world. As Jean Vanier writes “The sign of being human is to be a friend to the weak” The G20 incites in many angst, and visceral concern in our world we have entered an era in the post 911 world where concern for security has escalated exponential.
Looking to the text of Jeremiah 29:11-13
For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart.
We have the opportunity to be reminded that we live in a big wide world with many nations and the G20 expands our horizons of who we are as human citizens of the Globe.
We find reference to refreshment in many corners of society. There is even frequent reference to refreshment in the text of scripture. In the text of John 4:7-15 there are insights that we can learn from Jesus' encounter with the woman at the well.
John 4:7-15
When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, "Will you give me a drink?" (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.)
The Samaritan woman said to him, "You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?" (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)
Jesus answered her, "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water."
"Sir," the woman said, "you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his flocks and herds?"
Jesus answered, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."
The woman said to him, "Sir, give me this water so that I won't get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water."
Here the woman at the well has come to simply draw water for her daily use and it is in this moment in time she is encounters Jesus who invites her taste water that is even more refreshing than the water from the well. We are that then and now we look for something offers more than plain water. Jesus offered spiritual lemonade then and now and we look for something that touches that deep thirst of life.
Further still something we long for in the physical and the spiritual and the philosophical. We are thirsty for new answers to our questions and we make new questions to find newer answers.
In The Evolution of God, Robert Wright takes us on a sweeping journey through history, unveiling a discovery of crucial importance to the present moment: there is a pattern in the evolution of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, and a "hidden code" in their scriptures. Reading these scriptures in light of the circumstances surrounding their creation, Wright reveals the forces that have repeatedly moved the Abrahamic faiths away from belligerence and intolerance to a higher moral plane. And he shows how these forces could today let these faiths reassert their deep proclivity toward harmony and reconciliation. What's more, his analysis raises the prospect of a second kind of reconciliation: the reconciliation of science and religion.
Using the prisms of archaeology, theology, history, and evolutionary psychology, Wright repeatedly overturns conventional wisdom:
§ Contrary to the belief that Moses brought monotheism to the Middle East, ancient Israel was in fact polytheistic until after the Babylonian exile.
§ Jesus didn't really say, "Love your enemies," or extol the good Samaritan. These misquotes were inserted in scripture decades after the crucifixion.
§ Muhammad was neither a militant religious zealot nor a benign spiritual leader but a cool political pragmatist, at one point flirting with polytheism in an attempt to build his coalition.
Robert Wright powers new pathways to weave and integrate into the tapestry of insight in our thirst and quest for inside. Robert Wright proposes, "Maybe our evolving ideas about God show that we are slowly learning more about the real nature of the Divine."
The Disciples of Christ have crafted the following hymn Restless Weaver. The Hymn speaks to our quest and thirst for our evolving ideas about God, sacred and a divine lemonade.
Restless weaver ever spinning threads of justice and shalom dreaming patterns of creation where all creatures find a home gathering up life's varied fibres every texture every hue: grant us your creative vision. With us weave your world anew.
Where earth's fragile web is raveling help us mend each broken strand. Bless our urgent, bold endeavours cleansing water, air, and land. Through the Spirits inspiration offering health where once was pain—strengthen us to be the stewards of your world knit whole again.
When our violent lust for power ends in lives abused and torn, from compassion's sturdy fabric fashion hope and trust reborn. Where injustice rules as tyrant, give us courage, God live our dreams of transformation. Make our lives incarnate prayer.
Restless weaver still conceiving new life now and yet to be binding all your vast creation in one living tapestry: you have called us to be weavers. Let your love guide all we do. With your Reign of Peace our pattern, we will weave your world anew.
In the heat of the spring we may weave the world anew. When in the moment we grip the pitcher of lemonade and offer something more of ourselves and for each other.
In the fire and fury of an erupting volcano in Iceland we instantly and humbly reminded of the fragile balance of the outer and inner core of the earth that we inhabit. There is a thin membrane of rock and soil that we call home surrounded by a quiet veil of molecules we call air and atmosphere. All is held in a sacred balance from the beginning of beginnings. The seemingly innocuous Icelandic volcano brought air traffic in Europe to a grinding stop. The great flying machines of the 21st century that began with the insight Wilbur and Orville Wright was humbly brought to its knees.
On a further front the economic edge of the Europe Union faced a economic collapse when one countries limited horizon put a risk the fragile frame of Economic Union. In a staggering bail out of one Trillion Dollars that was held as a rescue of revenue for the potential financial collapse.
It is time to step back a look again at the implications and responsibilities that we share as a people. Only a few centuries ago the principle and concept of nationhood was born and with the fire and the fury of nationalism. With the passage of time nationhood opened the portals of possibility to world wisdom and world ways. The idea to create economic bridges that would potentially foster a more open ideology in the exchange of goods and commerce was born. There are many cases where the need is ignored to integrate the primary core belief systems into the exchange of goods. With this exchange there needs to be an exchange of ideas.
There was a brilliant piece of wisdom shared by a the letter of Paul Galatians 6:7-8
To the Galatians paraphrased as, “you reap what you sew”. There is an eternal karma and harmony that integrates the checks and balances of life. There are consequences for action and in action.
June Callwood once stated, “If a person witnesses and injustice and does nothing they are no longer an innocent bystander but a participant”. We have a responsibility as citizens of this earth.
The responsibility begins at our birth. It is a call and commission to join the active part of human’s being.
Each day we are invited to rise up these to meet challenges that confront us. Today a young woman homeless and very pregnant required food and a bus ticket to Niagara Falls. Shortly after she was on her way by bus to Niagara Falls with lunch in her back pack. The time to act is now; each of us is given an opportunity to participant in the active life. It is as if the door is always knocking and we but need to grip the handle.
I have this image in my mind of Jesus being a door to door sales person, ringing and knocking at every turn conjuring up the image of the Pre-Raphaelite art piece by William Holman Hunt; Jesus knocking at the door. We simply need to grip the handle and open the door. When we do just that something happens an opportunity to sow and plant and give of ourselves in a world that is waiting to meet us where we are.
At the earth’s core is the rumbling of something new awakening inside of all of us urging us to break into this day and this time and this hour.
All around there are signs of spring exploding with life on all fronts in the ground, in the air, in the sea and in the trees. Against this backdrop of living ecology we hear of devastating oil spills.
The news this week has been streaming with reports of oil spill. BP's chief executive is coming under mounting pressure over the vast spill spreading in the Gulf of Mexico, which was caused when a giant drilling rig there caught fire and sank, with the loss of 11 crew members. The oil, still spewing from the well on the ocean floor, threatens to blacken the Louisiana shoreline, and BP's reputation. We have walked down this road before in the spirit of boldly we go where no one has gone before.
Perhaps it all stems from our interpretation of Genesis 1:28 “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.” When we hold on to this notion of subdue the earth it becomes our modus operandi. The idea of subdue becomes our key motivation and premise for which we live our lives. This has been the core ideology that has framed the 20th and the 21st century. The call to build grander, faster, more magnificent structures and machines was met with great demise in the early portion of the 20th century with the Titatanic, WWI, the Hidenburg and WWII. Now then we are confronted by the disasters and tragedies of industrialism driven by the billion dollar profit margins of the corporate magnates. We come to the time to step back and witness again as we examine ourselves and look at the essential elements of our lives that contribute to our moral and ethical code.
Let me ask the question in the wake of this ancient text that speaks of the call to “SUBDUE THE EARTH”. Is this call to subdue something that continues to be manifested in our daily grind, groan and grunt of life? I can hear the herald in the background proclaim the words “Survival of the fittest”. Where does this integrate into a world where here another drum of gathering that urges us to take a look at the environment all creatures and peoples, and bio systems and realize again as did so many indigenous peoples that we are children of the earth. The trees and oceans represent our brothers and sisters.
We have terms for these folk “tree huggers”, sometimes spoken in the derogatory but yet when we step back and awaken to the fact that we are children of all creation crying over spills.
This oil spill is systematic and a wakeup call to take a second look and change the course of our activities.
Human beings are made of body, mind and spirit. Of these, spirit is primary, for it connects us to the source of everything, the eternal field of consciousness." And that “Each of us is here to discover our true Self that essentially we are spiritual beings who have taken manifestation in physical form...
that we're not human beings that have occasional spiritual experiences
that we're spiritual beings that have occasional human experiences. " Deepak Chopra
The other day I was speaking with my mother of 82 years old on the phone the conversation was included family remembrances and the particular phrase unique to her “listen to me now”. I recall her speaking those words on the telephone and in personal conversation to friends, family members and distant strangers. It was my mother’s way of capturing the attention of the hearer. In case you were not paying attention, now is the time to lean in and hear my words with closer attention. This particular phrase “listen to me now” is something I have inherited in my telephone conversations and personal interactions. It is a unique legacy that I carry forward and bring to the prologue and epilogue of the dialogue with family, friends and distant strangers.
This quality of listening is becoming something that is elusive with advent of IPOD, Blackberry, blue berry forms of telecommunication.
A fateful decision led a Thorold teen to take a shortcut across a rail line where he was killed by a freight train Tuesday morning, the boy's grandfather says.
Usually, Jacob Holland — known as Jake to his friends and family — would take the bus from the Thorold apartment he shared with his father to the Pen Centre and then board another bus to get to St. Catharines Collegiate, where he went to school.
But Tuesday, clear and sunny skies made Holland, 18, change his routine.
He opted to walk the first leg of the journey — planning to meet up with his girlfriend — and followed a rail line used by many in the area as a shortcut.
"(Tuesday), he texted his girlfriend while he was walking on the tracks and said it was such a nice day he was going to walk," his grandfather Howard Holland said Wednesday.
But Niagara Regional Police investigators said it appears the teen was wearing an MP3 player and didn't hear the train bearing down on him from behind.
"His girlfriend texted him back, but she didn't get an answer," the teen's grandfather said.
The tragedy unfolded shortly after 8 a.m. when a westbound CN freight train struck Jacob on a section of track near Highway 406, between Glengarry Rd. and Woodcrest Dr.
The train — nearly a kilometre long — blared its horn and braked in a bid to stop, but couldn't avoid hitting the teen.
"He still didn't feel the vibration or anything. I guess he was concentrating on the text message," his grandfather
A sad price to pay for the young lad and the community for a moment of listening.
This phenomenon of listening to music, talking on the phone and texting while walking is taking the world by storm and with it excluding the notion of listening and being present to ourselves and the people we are visiting.
A countermovement is emerging for people who want facetime with no texting, twittering or mobile phone conversations allowed. In addition the slow food movement is engaging people to celebrate eating together at the table over a lingering meal enjoying conversation and listening.
Further still we marked the week of Guided prayer at the Met with 12 particpants engaged in one week of listening to each other. We employed the technique of LECTIO DIVINA: latin for divine reading or sacred reading, holy reading and the ensuing pondering of its meaning in meditation and application to our daily lives. The participants met daily with their prayer companions to reflect on the scheduled set of readings for the day. They participants spoke about their quiet meditations of the readings and their noticing of the holy in their lives. The week culminated with a gathering of the twelve to reflect on the week.
Taking the space for active listening to each other is something that is key element in the core of our being. All people seek to be heard and quietly voice the words “listen to me now”.
As we make quantum leaps in telecommunications the desire for the space of face time and active listening will require intentional implementation.
Let there be the time hear to “listen to me now” and learn from each other.
When worlds collide ideas are born. Only a few weeks ago the large Hadron collider in Geneva Switzerland made a monumental leap for in the world of particle physics. Skeptics thought this experiment to be dangerous while additional experts deemed the research pivotal in moving forward. The word from the day by the scientist spoke the following report.
After a few anxious hours of delay following some electrical glitches, the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) got off to a glorious start on its research programme at an unprecedented realm of energy towards our understanding of the universe. Around 4.30 pm IST on March 30, the two counter-rotating beams of protons in the 27-km-long underground ringed particle accelerator at the European Centre for Nuclear Research (CERN) in Geneva attained the intended peak energy of 3.5 trillion (tera) electron-Volt (TeV) each and were successfully brought to collide against each other.
The particle physics experiment was a remarkable success and served to remind the world that opposite forces when collided produce an exponential energy surplus. Similarly when adversarial perspectives collide they produce challenging outcomes. In our daily lives ideas make collisions everyday ignited by the confrontation of people’s perspectives.
In the church we are reminded everyday of contrasting opinions through the ages that have resulted in critical question of the core of creed and praxis. N.T. Wright church of England Bishop speaks on the notion of what do you do “After you believe” . There is something intended to happen in our lives from the cradle to the grave. There is a seminal spark of motivation and inspiration that ignites us to leap forward and take action.
In the gospel reading John 21:1-3 we are reminded of being caught in rut of inaction. The first encounter of the disciples is in the experience of challenged fisher folk unable to catch and fish. Three years later the fisher folk are still incapablle of catching fish.
John 21:1-3 Afterward Jesus appeared again to his disciples, by the Sea of Tiberias. It happened this way: Simon Peter, Thomas, Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together. "I'm going out to fish," Simon Peter told them, and they said, "We'll go with you." So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.
The subtext needs to read try another profession other than fishing. Peter became the key spokes person for the new religion upon being confronted about his ability as a fisher.
Recently Marg Norquay a member of our church celebrated her 90th birthday. She is a person who lives her life as person who collides with the prevailing perspective to turn the course of the regime in a fresh direction. Her credo is one of care for the wounded traveler. She is a living embodiment of the message of the Good Samaritan and the phrase “love your neighbor”.
When we collide with the angst and uncertainty of the world we come out the other side bruised but transformed seeking a new start and fresh path. We realize that we are never alone together we take a stand and move mountains when worlds collide.
The early evening air was splendid the golden glow of late spring sunsets was all around; it was Monday night March 29. We arrived at the home of Jamie and Cheryl Saulter the family of my dear friend Stuart Ross. Jamie’s greeting was warm and inviting for the occasion; the First Seder of Passover.
As a Christian the Seder supper celebration has always intrigued me since the time of my youth. This fascination began with reading several works by Chaim Potok; The Chosen, The Promise and My Name Is Asher Is Asher Lev. Chaim Potok (was American Jewish Author and rabbi, February 17, 1929 to July 23, 2002) captured the essence of Jewish American community in post World War II Manhattan. In the pages of his works there are many references to the rites of Jewish culture. This work was timely for me to learn about Jewish culture that I had yet to encounter in my residential Etobicoke.
The Seder supper represents a tradition from another culture on the other side of the street, the Jewish culture. Seder is a celebration that can trace its origin back to the shared heritage of the Exodus. The invitation to receive an invitation into a family home for First Seder was truly a blessing for me. They called me “the minister”,” we are here to teach the minister tonight, he wants to learn” he said.
Shortly after our arrival we were ushered into the dining room where 20 persons sat down for Seder supper.
The men at the table were invited to wear a Kipot ( a head covering) and we all took the opportunity to plunge into the tradition. “When in Jerusalem do as they would do.”
The Passover is the seminal part of the Jewish tradition and is the root and core legacy of communion.
As Jesus gathered for the Last Supper or Last call he was joined by dozens of disciples many scholars believe that Jesus was celebrating Passover or Seder.
Recently there has been a renaissance of this pivotal element of Christian Heritage. This is remarkable step forward in building bridges with a culture that we have became separated from over these last two thousand years. We are rekindling the ethnic heritage of Jesus who was a Jew.
During the First Seder Supper I was sitting at the end of the table where the young people were gathered. Six youth in the late teens and early twenties posed a question to me, “the minister”,
“Did the Jews kill Jesus”. My immediate response, “No, the Romans killed and executed Jesus they were the government in power. Israel was governed by the Roman Empire.” The question penetrated me deeply resembling a spear of great sorrow. Who, how and why did these young Jewish men in the 21st century think to ask such a question and who had planted this idea in their minds.
Here I was in a Jewish home with my Christian partner at the table of First Seder and suddenly I was reminded about the tormented legacy that Christians had spoke so long ago. This phrase and idea of the Jews killing Christ is a heavy burden that we bear through the centuries.
As we walk in the footsteps of Easter we can find the invitation to open the barriers that have separated Jews, Christians and all people.
When I sat down at the table of First Seder I was reminded that it is through the Jewish Jesus who spoke and invited many to the table that we join with the children of the Exodus. It is the table culture that begins in all of our homes. The table culture that becomes the extended hand of hospitality and welcome for all.
Just when we thought we had it all figured out about whom we are as the human species. It all started with Charles Darwin and his theory of Survival of the most adaptable. We walk on this planet and hear the echo of 10,000 thousand years and learn of the proto-human who pushed back at the edge of ice and wilderness crawling out of the cave and meeting savannah and mighty mountain. A member of the family tree was found in Siberia.
In the latest use of DNA to investigate the story of humankind, scientists have decoded genetic material from an unidentified human ancestor that lived in Siberia and concluded it might be a new member of the human family tree.
We are reminded that in every corner there are new mysteries to find and uncover. For each of us we have the bones of our ancestors who bring us the core element of who we are and where and where we live. Beyond the colour of hair and eyes, the height and width of physical being there is the qualitative characteristic that shapes and forms that we are in the scheme of things. There are tools that emerge of from the bones of DNA. The one that make us an artist, a mathematician, a skilled carpenter, a professional hockey player or accomplished musician, people that give us memories to savour, and simmer in our lives.
Today we celebrated the Easter Brunch at Metropolitan United where dozens enjoyed the culinary delights of my father Nick Mastandrea
A Recipe for Frittata, from Nick Mastandrea
12.Sprinkle Paprika and green herbs on top
13.bake at 400 for 20 minutes
14Remove from Oven
15.Let chill, enjoy
Northrop Frye the theologian, United Church minister whose signature is inscribed on my degree from Victoria University writes,“Were art to redeem man, it could do so only by saving him from the seriousness of life and restoring him to an unexpected boyishness.”
Art represents the bones of many ages before: crafted in canvas or carved and formed into sculpture rendering imagination into living word that speaks to the viewer and invites the gift of standing still and gazing in awe.
Finally the ancient prophet Ezekiel proclaims, 37:1-14” The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. 2He led me all round them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry. 3He said to me, ‘Mortal, can these bones live?’ I answered, ‘O Lord God, you know.’ 4Then he said to me, ‘Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. 5Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath* to enter you, and you shall live. 6I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath* in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.’ This is the week of dry forgotten bones coming to live again through the telling of timeless tale. Through this holy week as we walk into Good Friday at the foot of the cross and warm ourselves at the vigil fire of Holy Saturday and come behold the stone rolled away and the curtain torn into two. Let these bones live again.
Whether it be a Siberian bone, a recipe remembered , a sage that is savoured or the words of a prophet pondered once again, look for the bones in your life that seem dry and buried and breathe into them life once more