Google Gadgets arrived on my computer this week.  They jus t showed up, uninvited. All of a sudden a clock with hands, the weather in San Francisco, photos from my picture file, news of sorts, and a neat post-it-note kind of application appeared on my desktop.

This is not something that I would have asked for, and if feels like a nervy intrusion – even though I must use my Google Toolbar TEN times a day.

This Sunday we celebrate Pentecost.  It is the story of the spirit coming to the disciples.  It was kind of intrusive - to say the least!  The writer of Acts described it as a mighty rush of wind and tongues of fire upon their heads (we won’t tell the Google people about that one!).  It broke into their lives!

What I like about this application breaking into my life – well – breaking into my computer - is the clock.  For some reason 8:04 am has less of an impact on me located down in the corner of my screen than the same time on an analog (you’ll need to Google this for accuracy).  I tend to lose track of time when I write, so that second hand is great as a symbolic reminder that life is going by.

I’m getting a bit mixed up on the hands of the clock because our most prominent analog clock at home has a knife and fork for hands.   As Pam learns to tell time, we get things like “the knife is at 6 and the fork is on the 4”.  It’s getting like Celsius and Fahrenheit temperature scales for me.  It always a guess at what the temperature in Celsius really feels like and who knows what freezing is in Fahrenheit anymore!

Well, the application was easy enough to figure out how to change the weather to Regina, dump the US news sources, and delete the sports news!

“For everything there is a time, a matter for every season under heaven” – so don’t let it slip away.  Life is a gift, and at times there is unexpected blessing that come our way – like my new gadget. 

Let us pray this Pentecost “spirit of life, come unto me.” *

Enjoy life!  May Pentecostal surprises come your way.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

( Carolyn Mc Dade, Spirit of Life ,Voices United Hymn Book # 381)

Saturday the date predicted for the end of the world came and went. 

I did a graveside service Saturday morning and a young woman there was talking about the buzz on the internet that the world still was here.

At the same time, she said that in the words of my message at the graveside, words about endings and beginnings, that all she heard was “rapture” with every line.

Now it could be that the man who predicted this was right, and we are all left behind.

Or, he was a day late and it was Sunday and those people killed in Missouri were the chosen ones.

This is not to make light of the suffering and damage that the tornado caused. 

I believe that we have our “raptures” and our “ end of the worlds” every day.  We all do .  We all have our endings and beginnings.  The people of Slave Lake know this, the people flooded out in Manitoba know this.  If you have every been part of a tragedy, if something has happened to  you that was out of control and unexpected hit you.. you know that there are endings and beginnings.

In the midst of it we have the words of Isaiah 43 ( selected verses with lots of proof texting!)

…Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. 2When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you… 4Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you,

At the graveside on Saturday, I said that life is like a rose.  It has beauty and it has thorns. Life has beauty and it has pain.  Sometimes it feels like life is a thorn bush with some flowers.  The challenge is to acknowledge the thorns but to focus on the beauty of the flowers, the gift of life itself.

In the midst of whatever comes our way, whatever life brings to us, we are held in the steadfast love of God.  IT’s hard to feel it, but this is the promise. The love of God comes to us in the caring presence of a loved one, in a telephone call asking how we are, in the simply beauty of the morning, in birdsong (even at 4:00 am!), in the beauty of flowers and the pulsing beat of life itself.

I’d rather be left behind.

What about you?

  

I mourne the loss of thousands of precious lives

but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy.

Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness

to a night already devoid of stars.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that" - Martin Luther King Jr

Received in an e-mail from a member of St. James United Church after the death of Osama bin Laden

43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’

44 But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,

45 so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.

46 For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have?

 Do not even the tax collectors do the same?47 And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? 48

Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

Matthew 5: 43 – 48 , New Revised Standard Version Bible

(© 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America).



Osama bin Laden is dead – really dead.  Al-Qaeda has confirmed it.  All I felt was sadness at the news.   I felt sad for the loss of life of all who have died and continue to die in the conflict between the West and al-Qaeda.

 I also find it remarkable that when governments send out assassins to kill people that somehow it is not seen as murder but justifiable revenge.   Not that Bin Laden had any qualms about killing people for his cause – nor does any powerful government have any qualms when people get in the way of important policies.  There is a fine line between protecting one’s citizens or innocent people and violence as a means to an end.

 Retribution as a form of payback and justice is an ancient, even primal response when someone hurts us or someone we love.  You hit them back twice as hard and hopefully they learn a lesson and stop what they are doing. It is an “An eye for an eye” kind of solution.

Payback can feel really good.   Barak Obama said in an interview recently that I saw on TV that the murder of Bin Laden was one of the most satisfying moments of his time in office. 

It is a time of mixed feelings in the USA and for Canadians who lost family members at The World Trade Centre.  Some are rejoicing, much like the rejoicing and celebrating that we see on TV when anti – American or anti-Western sentiments bubble up after an attack of some kind.

I felt that the US government marked his death in an emotionally and politically sensitive way.  It was at the site of 9/11 with a tribute to those who had lost their lives in the attack and given their lives in service as first responders .

Here are a few responses from families from the New York area from an article “Families of 9/11 fallen still seeking closure. U.S. military's killing of al-Qaeda founder stirs up complex emotions for those connected to attacks” By Connor Adams Sheets, Thursday, May 5, 2011 11:40 AM EDT. The full article is at http://www.yournabe.com/articles/2011/05/11/flushing_times/news/ft_911_families_20110505.txt

”Talat Hamdani, mother of Bayside NYPD cadet and paramedic Mohammad Salman Hamdani, also experienced a distressing series of events in the aftermath of his death. Her son, who was a Muslim, disappeared after 9/11 and rumors surfaced that he had colluded with the terrorists, according to U.S. Rep. Keith Ellison (D-Minn.).

In the end, it became clear that he had been smeared as a result of Islamophobia, Ellison said, and that when his remains were found in the rubble he was vindicated as a selfless man dedicated to helping the victims of the attacks. She is still fighting to have her son listed as a first responder, and signs suggest he will be soon.

Hamdani said she was initially “offended” at the celebrations of bin Laden’s death, but she eventually came to see it as an affirmation of the end of a destructive era.

“Then it was more of a celebration as an American that we are going to hold our enemies accountable,” she said. “I don’t think it would bring anybody closure, but a sense of relief. At least the guy who attacked us and jeered about it was brought to justice.”

Al Santora, of Long Island City, lost his son Christopher only two months after the young man became a member of Engine 54/Ladder 4 in Manhattan. Al Santora, who operates the Firefighter Christopher Santora Educational Scholarship Fund with his wife Maureen, focused more on the impacts eliminating the terrorist will have in the war against al-Qaeda.

“We’re elated about the death of Osama bin Laden. It’s a bittersweet victory,” he said. “You can’t be complacent and think that this is over ... hopefully, they’ll [al-Qaeda] be affected for a long time.”

Whitestone resident Dina Marie Amatuccio lost her father Joseph, who worked for the Port Authority as manager of maintenance at the World Trade Center, in the attacks.

She said a friend called her when she was in bed shortly after the announcement Sunday night to tell her bin Laden had been killed. She thought it was a dream and went to sleep, not registering it was reality until the next morning when she received a text message from her husband confirming the news.

“I don’t know why, but I didn’t feel as happy as I thought I would. I’m really happy that a person like him is gone and killed, but it took so long that now that it happened it hasn’t changed anything. My father still passed away and it doesn’t fix that,” she said. “When something bad happens, you always think of revenge, but as time passes it kind of goes away. And it just brought back so many emotional things for me.”The challenge with violent retribution and revenge is that when we repay violence with violence, this may just escalate the violence.  Jesus knew that.  He lived in a very violent time. He also lived under Roman occupation so that large acts of armed resistance would be violently quashed and lives would be lost.   He offered his followers and he offers us a way to respond that takes the violence done to us very seriously, with acts of justice based in agape to try and turn things around.

Love your enemies.  Gulp! Say what Jesus??

In the Greek the word love is agape.  Agape is a form of the love of God and Jesus that always desires the best for another person.  It is connected to unconditional love and grace.

Acts of agape are acts of “love” where we call others on their harmful actions – always desiring the best for the other person.  They also are creative acts of loving justice that make the oppressor/aggressor think about their actions.  They are part of process by which we seek healing for them and healing for ourselves.

 I mourne the loss of thousands of precious lives

but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy.

Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness

to a night already devoid of stars.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that" - Martin Luther King Jr

“They met him in the breaking of the bread”

The Resurrection appearances of Jesus always make me chuckle.  This is not to be disrespectful of Jesus, but the gospel writers have him popping up here and there, when you least expect him. 

The women meet him on the road as they leave the tomb in Matthew’s gospel; Mary meets him in the garden in John, he appears to the disciples while they huddle in fear behind locked doors; some of the followers have an encounter with him on the Road to Emmaus and he appears to others while they are out fishing. 

One thing is clear.  They had to leave the tomb to meet the Risen One.  He was not among the grave cloths, or the debris of the boulders, or with the angels or fainting soldiers.  And in a couple of situations they did not know him until after the fact. 

I met the Risen One on Sunday evening.  I didn’t know it at the time either. It’s a feeling that I am still left with several days later.

 It was at a First Birthday blessing party for Athena, a little girl who emigrated from the Philippines last year with her parents.  It was an honour to be invited to the party, to be asked to say a prayer and give a blessing as part of a larger ritual.  AT that supper I reconnected with a couple that I married a number of years ago, had a good visit with friends, and met a community of families and friends new to Canada from the Philippines.

It was a great party – lots of laughter, food and conversation.  Athena, and another baby cousin, fell asleep before the opening of the presents.  We talked and waited for them to wake up.  Athena slept on the floor of the living room on a blanket, and her cousin on the couch.  Everyone had a chance to see the sleeping birthday girl and she continued to be the center of attention even when sleeping. Finally she woke up, and we had the gift “opening” – most of the gifts opened by young cousins and friends who just couldn’t wait for her to rip open the waiting gift bags.

AS I think about that night – it was an encounter with the Body of Christ – the living church at worship beyond church walls.  Jesus was there amongst us; in the singing of hymns, in the sharing of traditional Filipino foods, in the cutting and sharing of the birthday cake, in the conversations about concerns about children, and work and life. As with the disciples on the Road to Emmaus, I met him “in the breaking of the bread”. Darwin, Pam and I got to be there as part of the chosen church family that Athena’s mom and dad have picked at this time in their lives.

He was also there in the bonds of family, friendship and faith; and in the gift of love present for this little girl, who is love incarnate even with her name –Athena – the goddess of love.

   This is an excerpt from the Blessing Service compiled by Roel and Arlene.  I invite you think of a child or children that you know and their parents and pray this prayer with them in mind.

All: Almighty God, Divine Parent, we ask for your Blessing here today.  Protect our family and community and surround us with your infinite unconditional live.  Keep us mindful that the miracle of incarniation is both a gift and a path back to you.

Parents:   For a year we have watched you shine.  An angel we can call mine sent from Heaven, just for us.  Filled with hope and dignity, a blessing now and always.   You brighten all our days, precious child. We love you so, more than anyone could know.

All:  I always thank God for you because of his grace given you in Christ Jesus. May God’s blessing rest upon you, may His peace abide with you, and may Her presence illuminate you heats now and forever more.

The other day I found a few bulbs that were left over from the children’s bulb planting project in early Lent.  I had soaked the bulbs for a day or so several weeks ago to make sure that they had enough moisture to properly sprout, but they had not been touched since.  To my great surprise and wonder, they had sprouted.

The bulb is a symbol of Easter.  What appears dry and lifeless holds the potential for growth.  Those bulbs sprouting without being watered and without soil said to me that the force of life will not be stopped by what we think is necessary for life to emerge. 

 The bulbs had sat in the meeting room that housed AA and Ala-Non Meetings, Sunday School,  The 49’ers Choir rehersals – just to name a few of the groups that gathered in that time period.  AA and Al-Anon are groups that help each other to come out of the tombs of additction and co-dependence and find new life.  The 49’ers bring life with their energy, exuberance and the gifts of friendship and song.  Our Sunday School children are filled with life as they grow in faith and experience a loving God.

God’s creating and re-creating power is all around us.  This is the Life-force of Easter, the force that “broke the bonds of death” as the early church described it; and that brings us from our dying places into times of rising again.

Alleluia! 

My friend’s daughter has a fear of monsters in her room at night.  Finally, after a bad night, she said to her daughter “You know, God’s love is stronger than monsters.”  The daughter replied, looking incredulous “It is?”  Her mom said” Yes, it is the strongest thing in the whole wide world.” 

This mom proceeded to ask the 7 year old what she could do to remind herself of this in case she woke up and was scared again.  The little girl decided that she would draw two strong arms, with flexed muscles, and a heart.

At church on Sunday, I talked to the children about Holy Week and Jesus death on the cross.  He was killed because he broke the rules and the people in charge were not happy with that.  He died, but his love did not die.  It just got stronger and stronger.

This is the paradox of Good Friday and Easter.  The monsters of betrayal and fear of change; the mob mentality that went from welcoming a messiah to crying out “crucify him”; these creatures of the power of death tracked Jesus through the last week of his life to the cross. In the end, it was the strong arms of life-giving love that rolled away the stone from the tomb and the stones of fear from the disciple’s hearts. 

We each have our monsters.  They may be imaginary, they may be real.   Abuse, addictions, worry, debt, poverty, greed, are just a few.   Monster doses of radio-active fall out are leaking from the nuclear reactor in Japan.  This contamination is making its way around the planet.  It is rumoured that Japanese government officials are more concerned about keeping people calm than telling the truth about the high levels of radiation being emitted from the plant.

Let us pray for wisdom and courage for the leaders and scientists who are trying to end the nightmare at Fukishima.

May the strong arms of divine love give you courage to face your fears.

Helena Guergis, Conservative candidate for the riding of Simcoe-Grey, held a press conference yesterday in which she released the RCPM’s final conclusions in their investigation about her alleged involvement with drugs, prostitution and fraud that got her removed from the Tory Caucus in 2010.  The investigation clears her of any involvement, and also reveals that the allegations were made by a Toronto private investigator without any evidence. 

What most impressed me was not her black turtleneck, silver cross and the photo op with her baby, but her refusal to engage in mudslinging against Stephen Harper. Basically she said that she was holding the press conference to be accountable to her constituency who wondered what had happened.  She also pointed out the flaws in the system that allowed one person to make allegations that cost her her reputation.  If it happened to her, it could happen to anyone. ( see CBC.ca website for actual statement)

We will never know what the whole truth of the matter is.  Politics is a dirty game. What I do applaud is that she took the moral high ground in not giving back to Mr. Harper what she got.  In the interview she did not give the reporters sensational lines. 

Helena is riding to her personal Jerusalem.  Whether she wins her seat back or not, I believe that she is facing the powers of death head on by standing up for herself.  What powers of death am I talking about?  The power of rumour and malicious gossip; smearing another’s life in the media; of judged guilty before being proved innocent.  We know that malicious gossip, and judged guilty before being proved innocent happens every day.  Just look at the tabloids.  Just look at the bible.

She is riding to her Jerusalem.  

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/helena-guergis-running-with-redemption-on-her-mind/article1987963/

Last night my daughter and I rode to a local playground. I was on my bicycle and she on her scooter.  As I rode along the dusty street, I was delighted to see that the snow was almost gone from many of the yards.  Patches of ice still lingered here and there on the sidewalk where residents had not shoveled, or in the shadowed areas where the sunlight had not been able to penetrate.

What really caught my eye were our shadows.  We were riding east, and so the setting sun on my back cast a very long and thin shadow.  It got me thinking about the shadow of the cross.

It is a few days before Palm Sunday.  This is the day in which the gospels tell us that Jesus rode into Jerusalem in a deliberate act of resistance against the powers of death.  It was a kind of street theatre, a flash mob of sorts, but not orchestrated. 

It was a kind of spontaneous parade in my mind’s eye. One of those instant “maybe it’s a mob and maybe it’s a demonstration” Middle-East kind of things that we have seen happening on TV these past few months as people protest against repressive governments.  It’s a “maybe he’s our Messiah and maybe not but let’s show those **** Romans that they do not have total control and we want our freedom.”

And from Golgotha, from the hill where Rome punished thieves and criminals; that hill from which Rome exerted its authority with public torture and brutality; the shadow of the cross cuts across Jesus path.

The sun’s rays are brutal in Jerusalem.  Women cover up in the Middle East for more than religious reasons.  The sun beats against the dry earth. 

The “Holy Land” is a violent, repressive place in which people struggle for freedom.  It is also a place of deep joy, of promise, and of life lived in the midst of the shadow of death.

In 2004 I spent a few months there as a part of a peacemaking program called the Ecumenical Accompaniment Program for Palestine and Israel.   I learned about the numbing, rage producing, conflict creating power of violence on people’s psyche and their lives. I also witnessed the power of boundary breaking, risk taking, life affirming intentional acts of non-violence in the struggle for peace and freedom between Palestinians and Israeli’s; and within each of those communities themselves.

 I believe that one of Jesus’ life-gifts to us was the power of intentional non-violent resistance as he saw his ministry through to the end.

The cross cast a long shadow on Jesus’ life path that Palm Sunday, and it casts a long shadow ours. 

Will we join the resistance and struggle for freedom from the powers of death and oppression?  Will we make space for the Divine power of life-giving, risk-taking, freeing love in our lives? 

Where is the cross casting its long shadow in your life or in the world?  How does it make you feel? What is your response?

Laura

Wednesday April 13, 2011