Some Christmases are just better than others.

It only takes a few moments of reflection to notice that Christmas is a time of deep contrasts. It’s the celebration of family affection when we miss our loved ones most deeply, the festival of commercial excess when privation is most keenly felt, and the birthday of the Prince of Peace when strife and conflict seem particularly inappropriate. Though loneliness is always unfortunate, and want and war always unacceptable, they seem particularly so at Christmas.

Upon further reflection, however, we observe that the feast was ever thus: the King of Heaven laid in a manger and celebrated by common shepherds and exotic magi, the Saviour of Israel ignored by the priests and teachers of the law, the peace offering of God fleeing as a refugee before the murderous rage of a paranoid king. And even the winter solstice festivals that Christmas displaces are celebrations of contrast: warmth and cold, dark and light, fear and hope.

Last Christmas was the hardest we have ever experienced in my family. A handful of people were in the process of driving us from the ministry in our church in Victoria, and we were facing the uncertainty of unemployment and relocation. Our friends were sharing in our suffering and the church was grieving the loss of its pastor and also facing an uncertain future. One family, in the centre of the action, was so hurt by what was happening that they didn’t even manage to put up a tree. It was a dismal time.

By contrast, however, this Christmas has been one of the happiest we’ve had in many years. Most of our family was in Edmonton celebrating with us. This included our youngest, our daughter and her husband and two children, and our eldest and his wife and five month old baby girl. And our second child, who couldn’t be with us, was in Ontario having a good Christmas of his own. God is good, and life just doesn’t get much better than this.

So, I’d like to hear a bit about your Christmas. What’s been great and what’s been hard? And, over a lifetime, what’s made Christmas dark or light for you? Click on comment and let me know. And I pray, whatever Christmas was for you this year, the coming year will be a great one.

God’s blessings to all,

Dan

Scrooge and the Grinch have always been part of the story.

I told you I had no plan and now it’s December 20^th and we haven’t yet seen any shepherds, stars or magi. Goodness, we’re still in Nazareth. So, in case you didn’t know or had forgotten, Mary and Joseph did manage to work things out and get married, and they were away in Bethlehem when the baby came. They were temporarily homeless, living under a bridge, and Jesus was born in a dumpster, and his first cradle was an old shopping cart. Well, not actually, but you get the idea. God will go to any length to be close to the poor.

When the king heard that this little wonder-child had been born (Matthew 2), he got nervous. To be fair, considering some of the things Mary had been thinking and even saying recently (Luke 1:52 in my last posting) he had every reason to be nervous. But, instead of trying to work something out, he just sent soldiers to kill Jesus. Jesus got away, but the soldiers killed a lot of innocent kids. Kings often do this sort of thing, and that king did it more than most.

Have you’ve ever wondered why Christmas is never quite as grand or good as it should be; why there’s always someone or something messing it up? Personally, I think it’s just that there’s something in the world, in people like Herod, even in you and me, that fears what’s good. And when something really good comes along it’s almost like the world, the rulers, and even you and I are allergic to it. It seems like a foreign, alien thing, and something in us tries to expel it. Some people don’t seem to have much of this reaction, children for example, but most of us, by the time we’re grown up, have been fooled so often by bad things that pretend to be good, we just can’t trust the real thing.

Well, whatever the problem, it’s been there from the beginning. I’m not sure how I got past resisting this thing myself, but somehow I did. I’m not sure how anyone else can get past it, but somehow they must. It’s just too good to miss. I wrote a poem about it a few years ago and here it is, a little Christmas gift, an invitation for you.

Merry Christmas!!!

The Invitation - Dan Colborne

'Twas the night before Christmas, a long time ago,
And they didn't have sleigh bells, they didn't have snow.
No stockings were hung by the old chimney flue;
'Twas the night before Christmas, but nobody knew.
Not a carol was sung, not a wreath on a door,
'Cause no one had ever had Christmas before.
No children lay dreaming of sweet sugarplums
That night before Christmas, the very first one;
Not a sign of a special event, not a trace,
But a wonderful birth was about to take place.

Now, shepherds were watching their sheep, right close by,
While, far away, Wise Men were watching the sky,
When angels appeared to the shepherds to sing
Of a Bethlehem stable, a manger, a king.
And a star seemed to say to the Wise Men somehow,
That a new king had been born in Israel just now.
So they stopped watching sheep, and stopped searching the skies,
And they hurried to join in this birthday surprise.

The shepherds told everyone that they had seen,
Angels and angels, and how they had been
Invited to come to a stable in town,
To worship a baby, pay homage, bow down.
They said, "He's a king!", but some replied, "Is he?"
Some came to the party, but some were too busy.

And, there was a king in that country already,
And he liked his job, and he wanted it steady.
And so, when the Wise Men came by with the news,
King Herod came down with a case of the blues.
See, he was the kind of a person who'll come
To a party, but only to spoil the fun.
And he came to the party; it ended in tears.
But the story’s continued through two thousand years.

Till, strange as it seems, each year, in December,
The whole world takes time out to stop and remember,
That Christmas that happened so long, long ago,
In a land without Christmas trees, stockings or snow.
And we think of that child who was born in that stable,
With never the sound of a carol or sleigh bell.
And all are invited today, as before,
To come to the stable, to worship, adore.

But some are too busy, and some are too clever,
Some plan to come later, some plan to come never.
And some are afraid for the throne they hold onto,
And others, for no reason, simply don't want to.
Some come to the stable, but will not adore him.
The birthday boy's here, and they choose to ignore him.

But, wise men and women don't miss it or fear it,
They recognize good news the moment they hear it.
They're quick to respond, be they shepherds or kings,
And they fly to the stable as though they had wings.
And children delight in a birthday surprise,
For practically all little children are wise.
They abandon their hearts to rejoicing with ease,
And they come as if born on the wings of the breeze.
But this invitation is specially for you.
We’re off to a party! Please, won't you come too?

Dan Colborne

Copyright 1991

The Iron Maiden

When we think of Mary, a girl of 14 or 15, we imagine she was a child like the young adolescent girls we know, but in her culture she was a young woman, old enough to have a husband and a family. She was also a child of a politically oppressed people, steeped in the revolutionary scriptures of the Old Testament. Perhaps we need to imagine her as we might imagine a young Moslem woman in the Palestine of today. Indeed, the verses we are about to consider suggest that she has hopes and dreams for her people, very political hopes and dreams.

Upon becoming pregnant, Mary went to visit her relative Elizabeth and stayed with her till after Elizabeth’s son, John, was born. This was a woman who’d been told the child she would bear “will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah,… to make ready a people prepared for the Lord." Elijah was a prophet of the Old Testament, but he was also the leader of a rebellion, a man of battle. 1 Kings 18:40 There is something going on here that we traditionally miss. There’s a very real political tension here that Luke certainly understood, as did his first century readers.

What follows Elizabeth’s greeting of Mary is the passage we call the Magnificat. It’s beautiful poetry, but it’s not simply a hymn to be sung in church. It’s a declaration, a manifesto, composed of Old Testament texts drawn mostly from the Psalms, expressing the hopes and dreams of a dispossessed and suffering people. If we will read the following verses through this lens, especially 50-53, we will see why Jesus was feared and hated even from infancy, why Herod sought to kill him, and why the Roman and Jewish establishment eventually did.

Luke 1:46-55 And Mary said:
"My soul glorifies the Lord
47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has been mindful
of the humble state of his servant.
From now on all generations
will call me blessed,
49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me —
holy is his name.
50 His mercy extends to those who fear him,
from generation to generation.
51 He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
52 He has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.
53 He has filled the hungry with good things
but has sent the rich away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
remembering to be merciful
55 to Abraham and his descendants forever,
even as he said to our fathers."

This young girl, Mary, is not the trifling little flower some have imagined, but a woman of strength and substance. This is a revolution that will shake the world to it’s foundations. And the battles are not just metaphors, they're the real thing. Both these babies, John and Jesus, will die violent deaths. The rich and powerful don’t go down without a fight.

What’s Love Got to Do with It?

Luke 1:39-40 At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, 40 where she entered Zechariah's home and greeted Elizabeth.

Luke tells us that shortly after she became pregnant Mary went to spend some time with her relative, Elizabeth. Surely we might have expected this. Think how many untimely teenage pregnancies have resulted in timely vacations. It would soon be obvious to everyone in Nazareth that a miracle was happening to Mary, but they must have assumed it was a miracle of the usual kind. She was betrothed to Joseph and, in the absence of a strenuous disclaimer, they must certainly have concluded that he was the father. This was more than an embarrassment in Mary’s culture, it was a shameful thing, but time would still the wagging tongues.

Luke says almost nothing about Joseph, but we can well imagine that the situation was hard for him too. And Matthew tells us that, assuming what any normal person would assume, Joseph was working out how to break off his betrothal when, in a dream, an angel let him in on the holy secret. (Matthew 1:18-20) Did Joseph immediately believe, once and for all? I doubt it; that’s not how belief usually works. But he did take Mary as his wife, in effect confirming what everyone already “knew” about him.

So, how can we explain this? Perhaps he was a man of unusual faith and courage. Perhaps he was a man of unusual insight and compassion. Or, perhaps, he was just a usual man, but much in love. Love does make even the most usual people do the most unusual things.

Even God so loved the world that he sent his only son, and all that that entailed. Mary so loved God that she received him, and all that that entailed. And Joseph so loved Mary he received them both, and all that that entailed. So what if the world rejects Joseph, and Mary, and Jesus, and even God; this is a love story and, as the Apostle Paul will eventually observe, “love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things". 1 Corinthians 13:7

Room at the Bottom

Luke 1:38 "I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May it be to me as you have said." Then the angel left her.

This little, five word declaration from Mary goes right to the heart of the Gospel story. She is a servant of the Lord.

Service is the hardest lesson in life, but I don’t think we’re entirely to blame. I mean, it all starts off in such a misleading way. We come into the world unable to do anything, and people wait on us hand and foot. If we lift an eyebrow or the corners of our mouth, everyone is rapt in ecstasy. No wonder we think we’re the centre of the universe; for the first year or so we are. In time, if we’re lucky, another child will show up and we’ll move down a notch on the road to becoming an adult, perhaps even a mother or father, at the bottom of the pile. When they asked Jesus who was the greatest in his new corporation he pointed to a child. If, by “greatest”, they mean the one who’s the centre of attention and gets his or her needs met first, those folks are in the nursery, not in the board room. What a concept!

Apart from Luke and Matthew, I think Dickens wrote the best Christmas story ever. Ebenezer Scrooge sits in the centre of his cold, lonely world, like a spoiled child who must have everything: “a squeezing, wrenching grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner!” By the end of the story, however, he has learned the lesson of service that Mary seems to know already. To Bob Cratchit he declares, “I'll raise your salary, and endeavor to assist your struggling family,…” Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father.

Joni Mitchell’s Christmas song, River, captures the lesson poignantly. We all know that feeling of wanting to skate away at Christmas. Is it just the pressure of a season that’s been so twisted and commercialized? Perhaps. But maybe it also has something to do with being caught up in ourselves, staying somewhere we don’t belong just for the money, and being hard to handle and selfish. Maybe what we really need is some beginning skater we can lace up and prop up. Perhaps, if we can skate that far away, we don’t really need to skate away at all, but to someone who’d like to skate too.

Born of a virgin? What is that about?

At this point please allow me to distinguish two doctrines that are often confused, the Immaculate Conception and the Virgin Birth. Both involve Mary and conception, but that’s about the extent of their similarity.

The Immaculate Conception is a Roman Catholic doctrine concerning the conception of Mary in her mother’s womb, by normal sexual intercourse. It asserts that, from the point of conception, Mary was purified by divine grace and preserved from original sin. It concerns her spiritual purity from the beginning, thus the term “immaculate”. Non-Catholic churches have rejected the Immaculate Conception as unbiblical, but have embraced the doctrine of the Virginal Conception of Jesus, which is clearly affirmed by both Matthew and Luke in their accounts of Jesus’ birth.

The distinguishing of these doctrines is important, not just as an esoteric curiosity, but because calling Jesus’ conception “immaculate” gives credence to the misunderstanding that the Virginal Conception of Jesus is about his, and/or his mother’s, purity from sin. But, as we see from the passage below (v.35), it is actually about his origin, and the power of God.

Luke 1:29-38 Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. 30 But the angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. 31 You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, 33 and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end."

34 "How will this be," Mary asked the angel, "since I am a virgin?"

35 The angel answered, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God…. 37 For nothing is impossible with God."

Luke asserts, as does Matthew (Mt 1:18-21), that Jesus is quite literally the Son of God, as opposed to being the child of Joseph. If we object that this is impossible, as many do, we are only stating what was obvious to Mary and everyone else, including Gabriel and presumably Luke himself. Of course this is “impossible”, it’s a mighty act of God, a work of the Holy Spirit in the power of God, for whom nothing is impossible.

For Luke, the conception of Jesus in the womb of Mary is as miraculous as any of the mighty acts of God. Indeed, his language is reminiscent of the original act of creation, an impossibility if there ever was one. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. (Genesis 1:2)

The virginal conception of Jesus means that the incarnation of God in Christ is an act of God’s power and grace, as free and unconditional as was the original act of creation. And, though John does not specifically mention the Virginal Conception anywhere in his Gospel, I believe it is implied. Reflecting upon God’s work of re-creation in the life of those who receive Jesus, he actually takes the concept a step further than the other Gospel writers do. Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God. (John 1:12-13)

Waiting on the Lord

Week two of Advent

Luke 1:26 In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, 27 to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin's name was Mary. 28 The angel went to her and said, "Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you."

If you’ve ever been backstage during a theatrical performance you have some idea how complicated a play can be. Lines, costumes, lighting and sound must somehow be orchestrated. Timing is everything. Now, just imagine that what you’re seeing from backstage is improvisational theatre, and that most of the actors and stagehands don’t even know or care that they’re in a play. And imagine that the ones who do know and care only listen to the director once in a while. In this situation it’s going to take some time to get the story told. And it’s going to take some careful listening on the part of some key performers, and an awful lot of patience.

The Jews had been waiting for Messiah for centuries, but they couldn’t have imagined that Herod and even the Roman Empire have a part to play. Zechariah and Elizabeth have been waiting for a baby, but they have no idea that Mary must first be prepared. And Mary’s about to become a key performer with no idea what a difficult and painful role she’s taking on.

Have you ever noticed how much of our lives we spend waiting for something; a prayer to be answered, graduation, a better job, a husband, wife, child? But, if we are part of God’s unfolding drama, we’re also waiting for a thousand things to happen, and a thousand people to do things of which we know nothing. Just like Mary, whether we know it or not, we’re waiting for the director to give us some direction. Just waiting on the Lord.

“But when will we get to serve?”, we ask impatiently.

The answer is simple. We are serving already. As John Milton said, “They also serve who only stand and wait”.

Touched by an Angel

One day, while Zechariah was burning incense in the Temple in Jerusalem, an angel appeared and told him that he and Elizabeth were going to have a son.

Luke 1:18 Zechariah asked the angel, "How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years."

19 The angel answered, "I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news. 20 And now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens, because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their proper time."…

23 When his time of service was completed, he returned home. 24 After this his wife Elizabeth became pregnant and for five months remained in seclusion. 25 "The Lord has done this for me," she said. "In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people."

Isaac, Samson, and Samuel were children born to barren women, so Zechariah’s well aware that God can do this. But that he will do it “in these days” for him and Elizabeth, is quite another thing. And, in his confusion and doubt he asks the angel for a sign. This may seem like no big deal to us, but it’s a delicate request, rather like asking the angel to produce some ID, which is exactly what Gabriel does. "I am Gabriel”, he declares. “I stand in the presence of God,…”.

The name Gabriel means, “God is great”, and Zechariah, who’s name incidentally means “God remembers”, is about to get a sign of the greatness of God that he won’t soon forget. He has spoken too quickly and too freely, but he won’t speak again for a while. His mouth will be closed until Elizabeth’s womb is opened. Then, as this new prophet comes forth from Elizabeth, prophecy will pour forth from Zechariah. (Luke 1:67-79)

I must confess, there’s something in me that wants to say, ‘Hey Gabe, lighten up a bit’. But could it be that this is why Luke begins with this startling, even troubling account? Maybe we’ve all seen too many fat baby angels and grandfather Gods. Perhaps, from the outset, Luke wants to put us on notice that talking to angels and serving God are very serious matters. And perhaps what I really should say is, ‘Hey Zack, get a grip, remember who you’re dealing with’. You see, Moses failed to take God seriously and never entered the Promised Land. (Numbers 20:7-12) Jacob was ‘touched by an angel’ and it crippled him. (Genesis 32:25)

What we don’t like about the story of Jesus

Luke 1:5 In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah,… his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. 6 Both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord's commandments and regulations blamelessly. 7 But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren; and they were both well along in years.

Luke tells a humble story. He mentions King Herod, but only to fix the date. In Mathew’s Gospel Herod is a sinister character, but for Luke he’s not a character at all. Luke’s story starts with two nobodies in an obscure corner of the Roman Empire; a priest and a descendant of Aaron to be sure, but just old, worn out nobodies. This couple has a problem, but it’s an everyday human tragedy. Who cares about a childless old couple? Well, God cares, and he is about to act.

Elizabeth and Zechariah will have their child, but if we see this as a simple, feel good story of answered prayer we miss the point. God is blessing these people, but he’s doing much more. He is drawing them into the circle of his work. God is raising up John the Baptist, the greatest and last prophet of the Old Testament, and he will do it through Zechariah and Elizabeth. Though the angel says John will be a joy and delight to them, being the parents of a prophet is a bitter thing; their boy will be an outsider, a rebel, beheaded in the end. But God is not their servant, they are his.

And this is why the story is so humble. It’s not about people who took what they wanted, but people who gave what was needed. Every character who really matters in this story matters because he or she is an instrument of God with a part in a story that’s far more important than they are.

One day Jesus sat with his disciples and explained, "If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all." (Mark 9:35) It’s the unrelenting humility of this story that’s hard to love. But this is a story about real love. And ask any mother or father, ask any lover; real love is humbling and bittersweet. Everyone, of course, loves love, but real love is quite another thing, a humble thing. And humility is an acquired taste.

Love is not blind, and neither is faith.

Luke 1:3 Therefore, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, it seemed good also to me to write an orderly account for you, ...

Luke clearly intends that this Gospel be received as a reliable record of eyewitness accounts. He produced it by checking things out as best he could but, frankly, he wasn’t there to see these things first hand. So how reliable can this really be? Well, some say it’s “the Inerrant Word of God”, but this seems pretty arbitrary, at least as a place to start.

I think, to begin with, the best we can do is grant that:

1. Luke is probably telling us things he believes to be true.
2. when it comes to history, trusting what others tell us is the best we ever do.

Virtually everything we believe about history, and about almost everything else as well, has come to us through witnesses we trust. Which is to say, almost all of even our best knowledge is acquired through thoughtful, judicious, receptive faith. This is discernment; it takes the evidence, sifts it, sorts it, and views it through the lens of life experience. For some Luke’s stories may be too fantastic, but, for many, life is so amazing that even some fantastic things, when sifted, sorted, and taken all together, just ring true.

At first my mother brushed my teeth. Then I took over, initially because she told me to, and then because of habit and social pressure. But, eventually I began to do it to preserve my teeth. I’ve never actually seen bacteria decay a tooth, but I believe they do. Life, as I know it, is certainly strange enough to accommodate such a possibility. And the witness of many scientists who claim to have seen bacteria doing their work, and the fact that, after a lifetime of brushing I still have teeth to brush, is evidence enough for me.

Can we accept Luke’s story by faith? Of course we can, because this is how we live; by faith. We even brush our teeth by faith.

For Lovers Only

Luke 1:1 Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us,… 3 Therefore, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, it seemed good also to me to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, 4 so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.

As Luke begins his story of Jesus he address it to someone called Theophilus. Now, if this is a literal person, we know nothing more about him than that he is the target audience for this Gospel and the Book of Acts. (Acts 1:1) But the name means “Lover of God” and I believe that this is not an individual at all. Luke is writing specifically to those who love God.

You see, Luke understands that not everyone can receive what he’s about to share. For one thing, it’s a fantastic story, and in order to embrace it one must have already begun to discover that there is something fantastic at the heart of reality. As C. S. Lewis once wrote, “Besides being complicated, reality, in my experience, is usually odd. It is not neat, not obvious, not what you expect…” And so Luke writes to those who, having discovered this, are already under the influence of that Something or Someone at the heart of all things.

And, for another thing, this is a terrible story. The central character, Jesus, is the Suffering Servant of God. He is the Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep. And, in the end, he invites his followers to do likewise. Who but Theophilus, the one who is already in love with God, can seriously consider such a thing? Who but Theophilus can look unflinchingly at Jesus, see clearly the cost of discipleship, and then take up his or her own cross and follow him?

Love is not blind; that is the last thing that it is. Love is bound; and the more it is bound the less it is blind. – G. K. Chesterton

Advent means “Watch for what’s coming!”.

I observe Advent every year. During this time I try to focus on the birth of Jesus while something tries, all too successfully, to turn my attention to eating, shopping, eating, lights, eating, parties, and eating. Now, I’m no Grinch. I love Santa, decorations, lights, parties and eating. But I also love Jesus, and it seems only right to save him a place at his own birthday party. So Dec. 2, I’m going to start focusing on the birth of Jesus. I don’t really have a plan, except to walk through Advent and watch. And I’m inviting you to come along.

I speak lightly of this struggle to focus, but it’s actually a serious matter. Something else always seeks to distract us, because Something Else is seeking to be born in us. Early in the 20^th century the Irish poet (prophet) W. B. Yeats, saw this as a misty apparition. “Advent!”, he cried, “Advent! Watch for what is coming!!!”

The Second Coming - W.B. Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi*

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again; but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

* Spirit of the World

Of Fear and Shame

When she was only 6 years old, Mary Manko Haskett was incarcerated in Spirit Lake Internment Camp in northern Quebec. She was sent there with her family because they were Ukrainian and, in the First World War, deemed a threat to national security. There were never any charges, trials or convictions; just being Ukrainian was enough. The men were to receive $1.25/day for their labour but, for the most part, never did. All this and much more was set out this morning in, “Flowers for Nellie”, a CBC radio documentary by John Shipman.

As the account of this regrettable incident began I wondered why we seem compelled to go back and dig up things like this. Do we feel a perverse need to shame our ancestors and ourselves? Do we so crave attention that we seek our share of even this spotlight?

As I listened, however, I realized some things:

1. Beyond the Japanese internment of WWII, I have not known our history of internment.

2. I thought internment was a mere aberration of Canadian history.

3. I’ve been under the impression that internment was mainly something the Fascists and Communists did.

4. We need to know our whole story, not just the parts we like.

Mary Haskett’s story indicates that no people or movement has a corner on this kind of systemic injustice. It’s a general human failing, and more about fear than anything else. This is why these things are done to “others”, the strangers and aliens among us. And it’s why they’re done in times of war and social upheaval. Few human beings have a great capacity for hatred or cruelty, but most have an amazing capacity for fear. And it’s fear that makes these terrible things possible.

John tells us (1 John 4:18) that love and fear don’t work together. Fear makes love impossible and love drives fear away. Surely this is why Jesus so often tells his followers not to be afraid. And it’s why we must be careful not to incite fear in people, and very cautious of those who do.

So much of what we hear today, in the post 9/11 world, is fear mongering, pure and simple. And, when those in authority preach fear, whether they be national or international leaders, religious leaders, labour leaders, politicians, scientists, economists, whatever, we must listen with discernment, speak out against fear, and steadfastly refuse to be afraid.

Our enemies do fearful things,

and so we are afraid;

And, fearing, we do shameful things,

and so we are ashamed.

Just a Passing Thought

The Christian apologist C. S. Lewis, and the atheist humanist Aldous Huxley, were great writers and two of the most influential intellectuals of the 20^th Century, yet when they died at 64 and 69 respectively, their deaths went largely unnoticed by the world that had exalted them in life. This is the flickering illusion we call fame, that mocks both Man of God and Man of Man. You see, they both died on the same day, November 22, 1963, and the news of their passing was utterly eclipsed by the news of the assassination of John F. Kennedy. Timing man, it’s all about timing.

But then again, a few years later, when the Kennedy story had subsided, the world still cared enough to notice they were gone. Bad timing notwithstanding, I guess there’s something to be said for doing good work.

Just a couple of things to share today

On Sunday morning, Karen Wilk, one of the pastors at The River, the church we attend, had a great illustration of faith. She invited a couple of the little children up to the front where she showed them two mouse traps. She had one of the kids spring one of the traps with a pencil, just so they would see how mouse traps work. They were suitably startled and impressed. Then she invited the other child to try to get a loonie out of the other trap. Nicolas, being at least as bright as that chimp we’ve seen on the cover of TIME Magazine, initially tried to do it with the pencil. But when Karen said he had to use his bare hand, without a moment’s hesitation, he confidently reached in and took the loonie. Her point? His faith in her, together with her faith in him, gave him the confidence to take the risk. Cool! But there was another point being illustrated that might have been missed.

When little Nick reached for the loonie, we in the congregation, including me, held our breath as though we really imagined he might get his fingers snapped. Admittedly, we didn’t know then that Karen had rigged the trap so it couldn’t spring. But why didn’t we know this? Did we really think she would risk this little guy’s fingers for the sake of her children’s story? As an exasperated Jesus used to say, “O, you of little faith”.

The second thing I want to share is that last night my wife, Suzanne, and I went to hear Steve Bell, a singer/song-writer we’ve been enjoying since the 90s; back when he appeared before audiences of 50. This was the last venue in a cross country tour with local symphonies. The Edmonton Symphony Orchestra was amazing, the Winspear Centre fabulous, and Steve Bell? well, he was Steve Bell, the reason we went. He began the concert with one of my favourites, Burning Ember. Just click on the title to see and hear him perform it with the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra.

The Meaning of Babylon

The name “Babylon” has a negative, even sinister feel in our culture. This is understandable, of course, because it comes from the Bible, and from the Bible’s perspective this great city is associated with the darkness of human nature; confused, arrogant, defiant, decadent, vicious, and oppressive. Its story begins in the account of the Tower of Babel and ends in the Book of Revelation where it is called “BABYLON THE GREAT, THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS AND OF THE ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH.” (17:5). And we thought people said mean things about Toronto.

In spite of all this, as we have seen, the Bible periodically turns a compassionate eye upon Babylon, and I hope we will be able to do so as well. But first we need to understand the Bible’s perspective on the darkness of this place.

The Tower of Babel.

Genesis 11:1-9 Now the whole world had one language and a common speech. 2 As men moved eastward, they found a plain in Shinar and settled there.

3 They said to each other, "Come, let's make bricks and bake them thoroughly." They used brick instead of stone, and tar for mortar. 4 Then they said, "Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves and not be scattered over the face of the whole earth."

5 But the LORD came down to see the city and the tower that the men were building. 6 The LORD said, "If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them. 7 Come, let us go down and confuse their language so they will not understand each other."

8 So the LORD scattered them from there over all the earth, and they stopped building the city. 9 That is why it was called Babel — because there the LORD confused the language of the whole world. From there the LORD scattered them over the face of the whole earth.

This passage is often interpreted simply as the Bible’s explanation of the origin of languages. This is unfortunate, firstly, because I doubt that it actually is, any more than the story of the Flood is the Bible’s explanation of the origin of boats; but, secondly, because this story contains so many profound insights into human nature, both ancient and modern.

Now, God had just commanded Noah and his descendants to "Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the earth…. (Genesis 9:1) In other words, to make babies and spread out. But, when they discovered the plain of Shinar, and realized it was a good place to stay, they decided to settle down. And, more than this, they decided to build a city, and a great tower that would reach to the heavens.

It’s simplistic and naïve to imagine that these people thought they could literally build a tower up to heaven. The biblical writers, and readers, had been on many mountains, and were well aware that “heaven” is beyond reach. The purpose of the tower, in fact, is quite clearly stated in the text; ‘so that we may make a name for ourselves and not be scattered’.

They’ve developed the technology, ‘brick instead of stone, and tar for mortar’, and they want to show off their technology to everyone. In other words, they want to build a tower for the same reasons we build towers. Wasn’t landing on the moon ahead of the Soviets largely about building the highest tower imaginable, to show off American technology (make a name), and to create a common goal for the American people (not be scattered)? And, just in case we’re feeling smug, what’s the tallest tower in the world? Well, no, it’s actually Burj Dubai (the Dubai Tower) . But the CN Tower in Toronto held the “record” till last September. (Note, its official height of 1,815 ft., 5 inches.) What’s with the five inches? Where’s Sigmund Freud when we really need him?

Anyway, they defied the command to scatter because there is fame and power, thus safety, in concentrated numbers. And this is not the first time in the story that this has happened. When Cain, fearing for his life, was banished to the land on Nod, which means “wandering”, he did not, in fact, wander. He built a city; the very first city. (Genesis 4:17) Which is to say, he built the prototypical city. So, from the very beginning, the Bible takes a rather dim view of cities.

For some challenging reading see Jacques Ellul (The Technological Society and The Meaning of the City) who writes extensively on the biblical themes of the threat to humanness posed by technology and the city.

Questions:

Do you have any sympathy for this “dim view” of the city?

What’s good about the city?

What’s not?

You meet the most wonderful exiles on the margins

And one such exile is Leonard Cohen. He’s a Jew, so some might say he was born on the margin, but I think there’s more to it than that. I believe he was sent to the margin by God for being a poet. Not as a punishment, God himself is THE POET, but for the sake of his gift. Poetry, real poetry, only happens on the edge.

His song, Democracy, is a great example of this. Not just that it could only come from someone on the periphery, though that's certainly true, but also because it’s what this song’s about. When what we really long for comes, it will come from Galilee, not Rome; from Mount Calvary, not Parliament Hill.

Just click on the title if you’d like to hear Mr. Cohen sing it.

Democracy – Leonard Cohen

It's coming through a hole in the air,

from those nights in Tiananmen Square.

It's coming from the feel

that this ain't exactly real,

or it's real, but it ain't exactly there.

From the wars against disorder,

from the sirens night and day,

from the fires of the homeless,

from the ashes of the gay:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

It's coming through a crack in the wall;

on a visionary flood of alcohol;

from the staggering account

of the Sermon on the Mount

which I don't pretend to understand at all.

It's coming from the silence

on the dock of the bay,

from the brave, the bold, the battered

heart of Chevrolet:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

It's coming from the sorrow in the street,

the holy places where the races meet;

from the homicidal bitchin'

that goes down in every kitchen

to determine who will serve and who will eat.

From the wells of disappointment

where the women kneel to pray

for the grace of God in the desert here

and the desert far away:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

Sail on, sail on

O mighty Ship of State!

To the Shores of Need

Past the Reefs of Greed

Through the Squalls of Hate

Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.

It's coming to America first,

the cradle of the best and of the worst.

It's here they got the range

and the machinery for change

and it's here they got the spiritual thirst.

It's here the family's broken

and it's here the lonely say

that the heart has got to open

in a fundamental way:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

It's coming from the women and the men.

O baby, we'll be making love again.

We'll be going down so deep

the river's going to weep,

and the mountain's going to shout Amen!

It's coming like the tidal flood

beneath the lunar sway,

imperial, mysterious,

in amorous array:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

Sail on, sail on ...

I'm sentimental, if you know what I mean

I love the country but I can't stand the scene.

And I'm neither left or right

I'm just staying home tonight,

getting lost in that hopeless little screen.

But I'm stubborn as those garbage bags

that Time cannot decay,

I'm junk but I'm still holding up

this little wild bouquet:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

Livin’ on the Margins

By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion.

…for there our captors asked us for songs,

our tormentors demanded songs of joy;

they said, "Sing us one of the songs of Zion!"

One of the great challenges God’s people faced in Babylon was that of being displaced from the centre of power and influence. The loss of power is a practical problem, of course, but it’s also a great humiliation. In Zion these Hebrews had been important people; now, they have become just another odd little community, a plaything, quaint and amusing.

This is the fate of displaced peoples everywhere as exemplified by the Ukrainian and Polish jokes of the 1960s? It’s also been the fate of the Chinese, East Indians, and, most recently, Muslims from the Middle East. But the supreme North American example remains the Africans who were transported from their homelands to serve white masters on this continent. Eventually they formed indigenous American communities on the margins of the dominant culture, but, being visible and marginal, they suffered innumerable indignities, not the least of which was the humiliation of having their language, culture and appearance serve as entertainment for those who ruled over them. When I was a child the caricature of the shuffling black servant was still popular in cinema. And my father could remember watching “minstrel shows” where white singers and comedians performed in black-face. They thought nothing of singing stylized “Negro” numbers they called “mammy songs”. And, ironically, the greatest performer of them all was Al Jolson, a Lithuanian Jew who grew up in his own marginal community in New York.

The margins of society are a hard place to be. Few choose to go there, and fewer sill to live there. But when you do settle down there you discover more than a hard life, for it’s from the margins of society that cultural change is driven. The centre is invested in the status quo. It’s those on the margins who, having little to lose, create the new material that changes society. Consider music, for example: jazz, gospel, rock ‘n’ roll, folk, rap. All these forms arose in marginal communities. And the Gandhis, Mother Teresas, and Martin Luther Kings of any society, seldom arise from the centre of power. And it’s not just because these people have little to lose. They also have a perspective on society denied to those in the centre. They experience the injustice, poverty and discrimination that’s invisible to those in power.

And this is the plan and purpose of God; to continually take those who are sensitive to him and move them to the margins. Abraham was called to leave his home and family. Moses was taken out of the Pharaoh’s house in Egypt to live as a shepherd in the desert. Jesus was born to a peasant family in Galilee, on the margins, no, on the margin of the margins of the Roman Empire. And he told his followers to work on the margins; to be the salt in the food and the light in the darkness. (Matthew 5:13-14)

What is this Babylon?

Some have inquired about the Babylon metaphor, unsure that they’re getting it. Well, if it’s the first time you’ve considered this idea in this way, I hope you’re not getting. I’ve been pondering life in Babylon for years now and I’m just beginning to get it. It’s a paradigm shift, and these things always take a while.

Ever have that feeling that life has changed; that “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore”, feeling. I had it a few years ago when a friend from Vancouver told me he’d gotten a phone call from one of his kids begging him to pick up something at Canadian Tire on his way home from work. When he finally got a word in edge-wise he said, “Jason, I’m in Los Angeles and I won’t be home for three days”. At the time this was an amusing incident. Now it’s just life with a cell phone. But, while most of us find the pace of technological change dizzying, it’s insignificant compared to the avalanche of social and psychological change that has descended upon us over the past few years; an avalanche Alvin Toffler warned us about in Future Shock, way back in 1970.

If you’re over 40 (born before 1968) you started life in a very different world. For example, there was a ruling consensus in Canada, where the struggles of ethnic accommodation were about establishing French and English as the official languages. And this consensus was built upon conservative Christian values: most stores and nonessential businesses were closed on Sundays, divorce and common-law marriage were deeply frowned upon, and public prayer (Christian prayer) and Christian holiday displays were uncontroversial. And there were virtually no openly gay celebrities, no gay pride parades, and gay marriage was too absurd to even contemplate. Needless to say, all this has changed.

Now I’m not, as some might imagine, bemoaning “the degeneration of our society”. – Been there, done that. – I’m merely suggesting that there has been a fundamental shift in the way social life is constituted in our world. We no longer have a ruling “Christian consensus”. In fact, we have very little consensus at all. And we all need to learn how to live in this new world.

In Babylon, as opposed to Zion, pluralism is the rule. There are many gods in Babylon, and none have a corner on legitimacy, which is to say there is no dominant majority here, and social consensus is negotiated not decreed. And almost everything is negotiable as long as it doesn’t oppress a minority; we’re all minorities in Babylon. And, because of this, tolerance is the supreme value here. Which is to say, intolerance will not be tolerated. Ironic but unavoidable.

So, is this bad? It is for those who can’t, or won’t, get with the program. But those who will embrace the new situation, or as God says, “Build houses and settle down;…” can, not only survive, but do very well indeed. And that goes for all of us, not just the Christians.

God is just full of surprises.

We tend to imagine that God is on our side in disputes, so I’m sure most of the people thought God would side with them against the Babylonians, and even imagined that hating Babylon was part of what it meant to love God. But they are about to be reintroduced to one of the overarching themes of the bible; God doesn’t play favourites.

Of course, he has special relationships. That’s an essential part of what relationships are. But if some seem to know his love more intimately than others it simply means that he is using them, or at least trying to use them, in some special way to extend his love to everyone. And extending love, as all who have done it know, is among the most wonderful and painful things a human being can ever do. Ask any mother, father, brother, sister. In fact, ask almost anyone who’s been around a while.

So, here are three of the things I think God is saying to his people in Babylon, and to us:

1. Don’t be angry at Babylon (the post-Christian world) for doing this to you. I did it. I put you in this place for my reasons. You are where I want you to be. So, stop complaining.

2. I expect you to live full and productive lives in Babylon.

3. I expect you to learn to know and love this place, to pray for its peace and prosperity, because now your life and wellbeing are intimately bound up in Babylon’s life and wellbeing. And that’s the way I want it.

It may seem strange that God would want us to even be in Babylon, let alone love the place. After all it’s Babel, the city that raised a mighty tower against him (Genesis 11:1-9). And it’s a cruel empire that terrorizes the most vulnerable people of the earth. But God wants us to see that Babylon is this, but also much more. It’s a beautiful city, full of beautiful people who suffer and dream and love and fear and worship. Babylon is the world that John is talking about when he says, in the famous John 3:16 passage, “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life”. And then he goes on in verse 17 “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him”.

God didn’t come, or send us, to condemn Babylon (the world). He loves this “Babylon”, and so must we.

A letter from God?

I often hear people make comments about wishing they could get an interview with God. I’ve made them myself. It’s what Job wanted and got in the end (Job 38-42). But it didn’t work out quite the way he’d imagined. Job found that all the questions he had for God melted like snow in the blast of a furnace. God questioned him.

Well, I expect a letter from God to us would also be a bit different than we imagine. This is GOD after all. If he is the big cheese we are like crumbs of Parmesan before him. No, like the dust of the dust of a crumb of Parmesan (Isaiah 40:8). I can’t remember the last time he came to me for advice, or even my opinion. In fact, he seems to have a long list of things for me to work on. Go figure.

Anyway, the people back there in Babylon were feeling fearful, bitter and vengeful as we saw in Psalm 137, and Jeremiah gets wind of it back in Jerusalem. -- Perhaps someone sent a copy of the new psalm for his encouragement. -- So he writes them a letter which he says is from God. You may doubt that it really is. I’m sure many of them doubted it. But it sure sounds like God to me.

Jeremiah 29:4-7 This is what the LORD Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: "Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper." (There’s more if you want to check it out.)

What is God saying in this letter to his people in their Babylon? What might he be saying to us in ours?

I hope the Babylonians will speak.

I was talking with a good friend last night, a woman I’ve known all my life, and she said she was surprised by the lack of response to my “Dumbledore Gay?” posting. I had been surprised too, and asked her where her comment was. She said that she was reluctant to join the conversation because it feels like a blog for Christians and she is a Babylonian. Well, she certainly is, and a happy one at that. She’s actually one of my favourite Babylonians, and I certainly don’t want her, or anyone else, to feel excluded.

Perhaps it’s a bit early to be expecting a lot of feedback from anyone. – Does patience take longer to develop than the other virtues, or does it just seem longer? – And I understand that if you identify as a Babylonian you might be reluctant to jump in till you have a sense of how you’ll be received. None of us needs to court rejection, which I suppose, is another way of saying we all want to be loved, so let’s be clear, I love Babylon and Babylonians. I think God put me here, not to punish me, but because it’s a great place for me to be. He did it because he loves me, and he loves the people he put me among. And he expects all of us to get to know and love one another.

So, I hope the Babylonians will feel free to take part in the discussion. The person I’ve mentioned has taught me a lot about Babylon, and she’s one of the reasons I love the place. As we go along, I trust that what we mean by Babylon will become clearer. And I trust that our love for Babylon will get clearer too.

Dumbledore Gay?

As many of you will know, I am a huge Harry Potter fan, the books more than the movies, though I enjoy them too. And now they tell me Dumbledore, my favourite character, was (is?) gay. When I heard the rumour my first reaction was, “No, no, that’s SpongeBob”, but as it turns out it seems it is Dumbledore after all. Now, in the case of SpongeBob, since sea sponges reproduce asexually, the whole case fell apart for lack of evidence. But, I’m sure we can all agree, Dumbledore is a long way up the food chain. So what do you think? Is this just a lot of nonsense? Does it matter? Is there anything in this story that’s interesting at all?

Livin’ In Blogalong

Wow!!! This blogging thing is a bit like just waking up some morning in China. Not that that's a bad thing, about 1 in 4 human beings do it every day. It's just all so new to me that I don't know enough to even ask where I am.

For example, someone asked me, "Have you registered the blog with key words (religion, Christianity etc)?". I have no idea what that is, or how you do it. If anyone out there knows how this is done please let me know. In fact, if you can do it for me, right from where you are, feel free to click your mouse and make the magic happen. And, do you think this willingness to have people do things for me might be part of the reason I so often don't know what I'm doing?

They also suggested that I begin my postings with a "cartoon, video, relevant news clip". Another great idea that I will implement if I ever figure out how it's done. I just remembered, someone told me that in Chinese the symbol for “crisis” is the same as the symbol for “opportunity”. Maybe I know more Chinese than I thought. Then again, maybe that's just a lot of hooey, which a Chinese friend once told me is the Chinese word for hooey. Small world, eh? And, considering that particular friend’s sense of humour, this also could be a lot of hooey.

And that reminds me, from another friend: "focus on your great sense of self deprecating humour". Hmm, from time to time we get these little insights into how others see us. Okay, I suppose, just as long as I can still deprecate on other people once in a while. And you can get in a lot of trouble, or is that hooey, just trying to be funny. Why do some people take not being funny so seriously?

Someone also pointed out that the font is too small. I know how to fix that but I’m not sure it’s really my problem. Sort of reminds me of all the trouble my dear wife went to trying not to mumble before we discovered I’m losing the hearing in my right ear. This, incidentally, is the one on the passenger side when I’m driving. I wonder, do you think it might be worn out? Or perhaps it just went deaf from not listening.

Uh oh, I think I just proved my point about humour. O well, more time for blogging.

So, let’s unpack this Babylon metaphor a little.

In the year 587 BC Jerusalem, also known as Zion, fell to the Babylonians. The city was destroyed with all of the raping and pillaging that usually attends such events. And the Babylonians, according to their custom, deported the leaders and most promising youth to Babylon. As we can imagine, this was a bitter experience for the people of Zion. And, just in case we can’t imagine, we have Psalm 137 preserved for us, one of the most terrifying visions of the human heart in all of scripture.

By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion.

There on the poplars we hung our harps,

for there our captors asked us for songs,

our tormentors demanded songs of joy;

they said, "Sing us one of the songs of Zion!"

This poem begins with a beautiful expression of grief at the terrible loss the people of Zion have suffered. They are homesick and heartbroken, but they are also humiliated by the dominant culture that considers them a source of amusement. And, in humiliation and pain, the psalmist adopts a strategy of retreating into reminiscing about their former situation.

How can we sing the songs of the LORD while in a foreign land?

If I forget you, O Jerusalem, may my right hand forget [its skill].

May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you,

if I do not consider Jerusalem my highest joy.

But this strategy of remembrance is problematic because it’s a retreat. The psalmist disengages from Babylon, makes a commitment to consider only the former glory of Jerusalem, and slips into a bitter prayer of vengeance.

Remember, O LORD, what the Edomites did on the day Jerusalem fell.

"Tear it down," they cried, "tear it down to its foundations!"

O Daughter of Babylon, doomed to destruction,

happy is he who repays you for what you have done to us —

he who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks.

It’s interesting to note that this bitterness is against, not just the Babylonians but the Edomites, who are Semitic cousins to the people of Zion. They sided with Babylon when Zion was destroyed and now the psalmist, in the most horrifying way, prays that they might experience the same fate.

I believe that many today are angry and bitter at being dispossessed by “Babylon”. We look around and find ourselves in a strange land. We don’t understand how to be who we are in this new world. And we feel humiliated by those around us who view us with hostility, mistrust and, worst of all, amusement. And this is not just a problem for Christians but for all who were once at the centre of establishment power and privilege and now find themselves marginalized by the forces of change.

How do we deal with this? Well, the psalmist is about to get a letter from God. It’s a literal letter, and we’ll read it together next time. In the meantime, however, WHAT ARE YOU EXPERIENCING? Are you estranged from Babylon, dispossessed, fearful, bitter, angry? Please share a comment and help us track together.

ON MY WAY

Well, I’m off and running, and I’m already learning a few things. And the first one is that, to begin with, you have a tendency to blog about blogging. It’s just the main thing that’s on my mind right now.

Second, you need to be careful. I sent out an email to almost everyone in my address book to let them know about the blog. Unfortunately I didn’t click “blind copy” and ended up publishing everyone’s email address to all my friends. I have very nice friends but, just the same, if you are one of those people who tries to keep their email address confidential please forgive me. I remember when I had to really work to offend dozens of people at a time; now I can do it with one wrong click. Ah, the new millennium.

Third, people are very kind, at least when you’re at the baby stage. Thanks so much for all the responses, email and on the site. I will continue my reflections on Livin’ in Babylon as it seems to be a topic to which people can relate, and in the process I will share more about my own personal pilgrimage.

Fourth, it’s surprisingly intimidating, even for a preacher, to share in this public way. That’s a good thing in that it makes me really think about what I think, and I expect it’s the same for those who respond. A blog’s like a big classroom. Of course, one of the nice things about cyberspace is that you can fool around in the back of the class without getting caught. But everyone still gets to hear you when you do speak up, so watch your language. This is community, and isn’t it fun to think how we can shape one another just by sharing who we are and what we think?

And this, I suppose, is one of the real purposes of blogging, and perhaps of living in general. It’s a point Ray Bradbury makes in his delightful novel Something Wicked This Way Comes. Speaking of the special friendship shared by two young boys, the protagonists in the novel, he writes, "So there they go, Jim running slower to stay with Will, Will running faster to stay with Jim. Jim breaking two windows in a haunted house because Will's along. Will breaking one window instead of none, because Jim's watching. God, how we get our fingers into each other's clay. That's friendship, each playing the potter to see what shapes we can make of the other."

It will be interesting to see how we shape up.