Who are you in this story?

Who are you in this story

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

8:29 AM

Matt 20.17-28

17 While Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the twelve disciples aside by themselves, and said to them on the way, 18‘See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death; 19then they will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified; and on the third day he will be raised.’

20 Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came to him with her sons, and kneeling before him, she asked a favour of him. 21And he said to her, ‘What do you want?’ She said to him, ‘Declare that these two sons of mine will sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.’ 22But Jesus answered, ‘You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am about to drink?’* They said to him, ‘We are able.’ 23He said to them, ‘You will indeed drink my cup, but to sit at my right hand and at my left, this is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.’

24 When the ten heard it, they were angry with the two brothers. 25But Jesus called them to him and said, ‘You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. 26It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, 27and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave; 28just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.’

The cost of leadership means that one must make themselves the servant of all. Richard Preston noticed that Cree leaders often led by being the most gracious and giving individual in the situation. They did not rely on violence or manipulation but sought the good of everyone involved. In this passage Jesus contrasts the Gentile rulers of the day, who got their way by being tyrants. They rely on competition, deceit and violence to dominate and control. Jesus said that in the Church this should not characterize us. Yet like John and James, we want positions of power.  I read this story today in my office and I ask myself, "who am I in this story?"

"Creator, give me more love, that I might treat people the way you treat me, with love and grace."

A Robin in the snow

I saw a robin, the first one this year that I have seen. It was hiding under a spruce tree from the rain. Looking in the bit of grass looking for a morsel, some crumb. And wondering, "where did this snow come from?" No song came from his mouth - maybe muted by the change that brought all this snow. And as the dog and I approached, he would hop from grassy spot under a spruce tree to the next spot under the adjacent tree, until he was hid behind a grassy hummock in a sea of slushy fading snow. I hoped he found a meal in that place. The rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and watereth the earth, …that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater. (Isaiah 55:10) -

The gospel of the day, Mark 7:24-30 - even the dogs eat the crumbs off the ground under the table"

I was thinking about how these words, spoken by a woman to Jesus, moves him to act, and I was thinking about how we are supposed to be the crown of creation…, whatever that means, but I feel something seeing that robin in the snow - I wonder how my life has put him there, or am I just like him, there in the snow, trying to find something on this cool rainy morning - -I hope he finds crumbs.

Even what they have will be taken away

"Even what they have will be taken"

Thursday, January 26, 2017

9:22 AM

There are currently two different stories playing out in North America. One is a story of a nation that seeks to reconcile with its oldest relatives, the First Nations and the land itself. The nation-to-nation relationship of First Nations to the newcomers is a quest to move toward a feeling of greater intimacy in our communities and solidarity that is both local and global. It is a journey of attempted reconciliation founded upon the land.

The other is a story of a nation that believes it can hang on to greatness by trying to go back to some use of force that will generate prosperity - or something perceived as secure and comfortable. They rage and thrash against some perceived enemy and wall themselves in - and play the pipe while the end comes. 

Pitrim A. Sorokin wrote, "When any socio-cultural system enters the stage of its disintegration the following four symptoms of the disintegration appear and grow in it: first, the inner self-contradiction of a irreconcilable dualism in such a culture; second, its formlessness - a chaotic syncretism of undigested elements taken from different cultures; third, a quantitative colossalism - mere growing at the cost of qualitative refinement; and fourth, a progressive exhaustion of its creativeness in the field of great and perennial values. (pg 14 of "Tragic Dualism, Chaotic Syncretism, Quantitative Colossalism, and Diminishing Creativeness of the Contemporary Sensate Culture" in American Catholic Sociological Review" Vol 2, No. 1 (March, 1941). Pp. 3-22)

The gospel for the day: Mark 4:21-25

²¹ He said to them, ‘Is a lamp brought in to be put under the bushel basket, or under the bed, and not on the lampstand? ²²For there is nothing hidden, except to be disclosed; nor is anything secret, except to come to light. ²³Let anyone with ears to hear listen!’ ²⁴And he said to them, ‘Pay attention to what you hear; the measure you give will be the measure you get, and still more will be given you. ²⁵For to those who have, more will be given; and from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.’

The phrase from Mark that captures me is, "from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away." Nations that have begun to disintegrate and who cannot muster any creativity as far as the great perennial values shows that it has nothing.

Sorokin writing in 1941 points out that a nation that is dualistic and displays "irreconcilable contradictions”, that all the while "proclaims "democracy of the people, for the people, and by the people"; in practice tends to be more and more an oligarchy or a plutocracy or a dictatorship of this or that faction…" pp 2. "It (this nation's culture) exalts him (man) as the hero and the greatest value, not by virtue of his creation by God in God's own image, but in his own right, by virtue of man's own marvelous achievements. It substitutes a religion of humanity for the religion of superhuman deities."

A nation seeking to live out the great perennial values of right relatedness built upon reconciliation which includes telling the truth, empathetic listening, and coming up with a shared plan, is like a light set on a stand. This is the City on a Hill which is a light of the world…"to those who have, more will be given." The nation that does not turn inward in reflection and repentance, seeking to be healed and heal the brokenness around; that roars and shakes its fist at the heavens and proclaims its own greatness while berating its citizens of their lawless nature and their need to be policed, has begun to disintegrate. Shouting for more violence, more prisons, bigger walls, bigger guns, and more control exhibits a loss of what has made it a great nation and is merely hastening its own demise. By its own judgment it has nothing of a creative nature to indicate the way forward in a complex world - if it continues, "even what they have will be taken away."

In the midst of all this there are two stories playing out. I was just thinking about these things.

The Loneliest Night of the Year

As I was coming to work this morning, I was looking at the last full moon of the year; "Twas in the moon of wintertime" so the refrain goes from one of the oldest hymns written by a new comer priest inspired by his interaction with turtle island (what we call Canada), and probably his attempts to convert or the conversion of Indigenous people to the Christian faith. Or, maybe by his conversion to Indigenous faith. Or, was it the conversation to faith in God and the ability of the gospel to be received in this land of the mighty Gitchi Manitou.

The moon of Wintertime, the loneliest night of the year. I was thinking about my father, who is in a hospital room, not waiting to heal, but waiting because he is old now and his life is slowly leaving his body. And as I thought about him, I was sad; the loneliest night of the year.  I will push the feeling of sadness out of my mind soon, but I will linger on them just for a bit. Thinking about waiting and reading the gospel of the day, Luke 7:19-23. Two people ask Jesus, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" A question from two people sent by John the baptizer, who was in prison, "are you the one..?" Waiting for the one who is to come - by those who had power, but unable to help a sick servant, by a widow whose son had died unexpectedly; by those who had diseases, battling personal demons and all forms of the malady of the human condition - the sadness and the loneliness -waiting- the loneliest night of the year - waiting for the one who is to come.

"Twas in the moon of winter-time

When all the birds had fled,

That mighty Gitchi Manitou

Sent angel choirs instead…

"Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, In excelsis gloria."

 (Original carol in Wyandot (Huron) circa 1642 by Jean de Brebeuf translated into English by Jesse Edgar Middleton 1926)

The Bear's House since the beginning

I was out running Wednesday morning. It was cool out and you could hear the crunching of snow that had frozen into ice. 

My back hurts but I try to get in at least 1 mile. The magical mile, far enough to say that I ran but not long enough to call me a marathon man. I ran to the Richmond Dike and then looked up at the stars. The stars that have been their since creator entered the story of our lives. I looked and saw the big bear (ursa major) and then let my eyes follow it to find the North Star. 

Scott Momaday, Indigenous author, penned a conversation between Urset and Yahweh, 

Urset: "The one story must be very old."

Yahweh: "It is older than I, for I am contained in it…” (In the Bear's House New Mexico Press, 1999)

That the great mystery is contained in our stories shows the miracle of the incarnation. That creator has come close to give us the words to write and speak, to remember the story. “The word became flesh” and dwells in our story. The words can be seen and heard, if we have ears to hear and eyes to see, what has been there since the beginning.

Sighing and Singing

Sunday morning I was walking and the wind was howling through the scaffolding in our apartment complex. It brought to mind that the wind makes different noises depending on what it moves through.

The wind through the man-made trees of scaffolding was howling like a banshee - it was eerie. The wind through the oak trees and cottonwood makes creaking sounds but the wind through the evergreens makes a sighing and peaceful sound.

Sighing and Singing

Sighing and singing through the needles in a whimsical song,
Sighing and slipping through the dancing needles ,
Sighing and slicing gently through limbs caressing the breeze
Sighing and shivering rolling on the currents of wind and time longing for warmth
Sighing and shaking, straining against the tendons of bark and sap holding the life - waiting

Sighing and waiting eyes close, I wait - sighing and slicing through the current of memory caressing the path like the tendons of life waiting for spring.

Getting Older

As we get older my melancholy gets ever closer - not depression but in the evening my reality overwhelms me. I think about the things that are past and the things that will not come back. “Let me live in a way that when I die, my memory will bear much fruit.”


These words, inspired by Henri Nouwen reflecting on Jesus saying, “It is good that I go away,” Jesus' going bore much fruit.

A Cold Stone
The cold stone church wall
A place of remembrance -
The voice of a thousand angelic memories locked inside -
Crying in the night and reflecting
Where and when did they go?

A cold stone church step
A thousand footfalls, beaten down
The passing of a thousand hosts, never coming back-
What and when did they think and love?


A cold stone marker
A place of resting -
A thousand words of longing - silenced for a time
When and how will they rise again?