kar0ling

As Protestants, we’ve done our share of looking down our noses at apocryphal stories and narrative details not found in the text. We scoff at Veronica, the saint who wiped Christ’s brow on the Via Dolorosa, officially recognized through one of the stations of the cross. Where does that whole mythology even come from? Maybe the same place as the donkey Mary rode to Bethlehem. Nearly every depiction of the Christmas story I’ve seen includes a donkey but none is ever mentioned in the Gospel accounts. And then there’s the innkeeper. Granted, the innkeeper is the result of a translation problem, but the mythology grown up around him is quite substantial. Because one verse says “there was no room for them in the inn,” we’ve fabricated this elaborate scheme of the harried couple, arriving in town late at night, on the cusp of giving birth, going from door to door, turned away at every place until one innkeeper finally takes pity and makes room in the stable. It works very well with ...

"People were convinced it was the end of the world." Over and over again, this phrase was repeated in the Lausanne Congress's 30-minute walk through world history, from the first century to the twenty-first. Generation after generation thought things were so bad -- morals so degenerate, or conflict so pervasive and entrenched -- that it could only be the Last Days the Bible speaks about in the prophets and Revelation. Christians thought the world was in such a state, the only possible remedy was the coming of the sovereign Lord. I tend to think that's how it's supposed to be. Not that things should always seem so bad they couldn't possibly get worse, but that we should always be expecting that Jesus will come back at any time. Not that we should constantly despair for the condition of society, but that we should yearn to our marrow for the suffering servant to turn the world upside-down, thus setting it truly aright. The expectation is meant to keep us on our ...

Trick or treat? Is Halloween a fun, harmless event, providing an excuse for kids to dress up in costumes? Or is it a pernicious celebration of evil spirits? I was raised to believe that latter; allowed to dress up as something benign, like a nurse, or a pink rabbit, but not allowed to trick or treat. That ritual dates back to pagan appeasement of the spirits in the Middle Ages, we were told. I haven't swung entirely to the other end of the pendulum -- I find some currents even in a mainstream celebration uncomfortably death-focused -- but I certainly take a different view of things now. The explanation my pastor gives for why he allowed his children to participate in Halloween (when his wife wouldn't even allow harmless kids' stories about witches in the house) strikes me as thoughtful and Christian. He realized that for that one night of the year, all the parents in the neighbourhood were either out on the street greeting each other, or waiting behind brightly lit front do...

Arched passageway of vaulted ancient arms splashed with yellow, orange, red, green, fawn, black. Gold leaf drops to the ground and heaps in crannies, pungent with earth, portending of the coming white death. The approaching darkness not sadness but icy isolation and crystalline beauty -- fragile and elusive. Thus, in desperation and smitten with a lovehate for fall, I write the poetry I hate to produce a September post.

Thoughts about harmonizing to hymns have led me to look at iPods with sadness. Yes, proponents will argue that they have democritized music. Now everyone can have access to a vast musical library, and obscure bands who recorded in their basements can collect fans from around the world. But isn't something lost when music is something we experience passively as individuals? Sure, listening to performances has always been one way music is experienced. However, there's a dynamic to listening to live musicians play in the company of many listeners which differs greatly from having perfectly tuned, flawlessly played, interference-free music piped directly into one's ears. What is music? What is its purpose? Isn't a vital component of music its production with, by, and for people? A solo voice or instrument can be hauntingly beautiful, but does it not take a group of musicians, vocalists, and/or listeners to evoke joyful abandon? This is not to argue against practice an...

A reflection on the Canadian Conference's Celebration 2010 gathering. Reposted from MyCelebration2010.ca. The air conditioning in the room was blasting, but it wasn’t the cold that raised goosebumps on my arms and neck. I’ve long considered Jesus’ declaration from Isaiah 61 beautiful, inspiring, and daunting. But I’d never really claimed it for myself before, as Louise Sinclair-Peters invited us to do tonight. “The Spirit of the Lord is on me ... me ; not some character or hypothetical abstraction, but me... because he has anointed me ...there it is again, me... to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.” Of course, the original words come from the mouth of the prophet Isaiah, but Jesus’ appropriation of those words turns it into a model for us as we attempt to follow in Christ’s footsteps. He expects this behaviour fr...

In northern Manitoba this weekend, I was struck by the ubiquity of water in this province compared to the paucity in Israel. As we drove from our campsite to Thompson to get a backcountry camping permit for our planned two-day hike, my friend, looking at a GPS, nonchalantly noted that a lake lay concealed by trees on either side of the highway as we drove. It brought to mind Israelis' and Palestinians' pride at their small but woefully over-fished Sea of Galilee and unique but rapidly disappearing Dead Sea. We take our water for granted in Manitoba. In our province with an area of 649,950 km, 101,593 km is water surface, according to Travel Manitoba. That means (if my math is right) about 17% of the surface is covered by water. Whereas according to Wikipedia, the area of Israel (not including the Occupied Territories) is 20,770 square kilometres, with 445 square kilometers of water surface -- about 2%. And since the Sea of Galilee is a mere 166 square kilometres, a good portio...

The day of visiting Passion Week sites left me strangely passionless, and I'm not sure why. We saw a lot in one day, but it all followed one after another, so there was no confusion. There were plenty of tourists, to be sure (always an irritation), but fewer than expected (and I could hardly complain, being one of them). At each site, we received both religious and historical accounts -- of which I often found the latter more compelling. No, I wonder if it comes back to pilgrimage, and my unfamiliarity with it. The moments of transcendence, the moments when my soul was lifted to praise God had more to do with the beauty of the unfamiliar architecture and vibrant tropical foliage I saw than with a connection to standing in the spot where Jesus stood. It occurs to me that I should be excited to stand/take pictures "in the very place where..." because it is a connection with the Jesus of history -- an important part of my belief. For it is not enough that Jesus be fully G...

Throughout the tour, as I heard over and over again about violence, injustice, and oppression, I wondered, in what areas and to which people are my actions oppressive? Where am I oblivious to the injustice I support? As a first-class member of one of the most privileged societies in the world, I find it unlikely I can claim immunity from having perpetuated violence on anyone.

The irony is that both Jews and Palestinians are the best placed to understand each other's persistence: both cling tenaciously -- irrationally, perhaps -- to their devotion to the land. But at what cost? A constant deadlock in negotiations where either side refused to budge, to make concessions? At the loss of multiple family members? And what about the damage to the land itself? It seems both groups have allowed the land to be degraded simply for the sake of holding on to it. I appreciated the settler who spoke to our group for his willingness to share his perspective with a folks he surely anticipated may be unsympathetic, if not hostile to it. As the many Palestinians we spoke to put a human face on their story of the conflict, so this settler put a human face on that particular Israeli faction -- the desire for a peaceful and meaningful place to raise a family, the desire to practice one's religion without difficulty. The conversation also offered a glimpse into how throug...

The tour leader directed us to ponder "servant power" in contrast to Herod's imperial might as we visited Herodium, the magnificent palace by the noted first-century builder, Herod the Great, also the chosen site of his mausoleum. Political might is undeniably a force to be reckoned with, while true servants wielding the awesome power of God are hard to find, and often found in a hard place. But as we gazed upon the excavations of Herod's splendor, buried for more than a thousand years (his tomb only unearthed in the past year or two), and heard how there remains no trace -- on the mount, anyway -- of his architectural garnishes (marble steps, columns), I couldn't help but think of Shelley's "Ozymandias." ("...And on the pedestal these words appear:`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains...." ) Herod matches his enormous hubris and his vanished empire. Then I consider t...

My post on May 2, "Some stories from the city of David," and this entry spring from the same set of experiences. I'd just heard Bishara Awad speak about how the worldwide church needs to stand with Palestinian Christians and I felt convicted to use my platform to speak to the MB church in Canada. Is it overly grandiose, I asked myself, feeling the answer was likely yes -- and no -- to believe that I might be on the study tour, one last application slipped in after the closing date, "for such a time as this"? How can I not do my part in showing concern and solidarity with Palestinian brothers and sisters in Christ by taking their struggle to my captive audience? In the time that has passed, I have actually done so, with much procrastination, trepidation, and early morning writing (you'll find my "Viewpoint" in the July Herald ). But Awad's presentation raised other questions that weren't so inspiring. To what degree should the West take resp...

Very early on in the tour, I was struck by the international variety of the tour groups we encountered as we visited the sites significant to Christians. I was ashamed to find myself surprised that on many days none of the other groups we encountered were English-speaking. What made me think North Americans are the only ones to take a "pilgrimage" to the region? Did I subconsciously think we are the only Christians in the world? I was truly delighted to mark the diversity of nationality among the pilgrims at every stop along the journey. There were French-speaking groups, Indians, Nederlanders, groups from African countries, Italians, Spanish-speaking groups, Russians, groups from South-East Asian countries -- the list goes on. There, in the "Holy Land," was a small picture of heaven.

"I'm surprised there aren't more suicide bombers." I acknowledge that our tour was heavily biased in favour of a moderate Palestinian perspective; nevertheless, what I saw and heard in a short period of time was a people in a perpetually frustrated and hopeless existence. I was astonished by the capacity of each person who addressed our group to continue, if not always to forgive, at least to seek ways to live peaceably with their Jewish neighbours; by their persistent absorption of discrimination and violence without retaliation. Thus the shocking statement above came to me over and over as we listened. After a day of stories from several people from different demographics and walks of life, I better understood why one would choose to stand in front of a bulldozer. After hearing such litany of indignities, I itched to put my body in the way of continuing the separation wall. To come to the land, to hear the stories and share the pain, to offer our pathetic tourist do...

Initially, my bias on the Israel-Palestine situation was influenced by an overly optimistic story of the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948. When the accounts I heard as I began to listen to current news from the region led me to conclude that the State was treating its original inhabitants badly, I assumed it was an aberration, a failure to live up to the good intentions of the founders to live at peace and in equality with their neighbours. To a degree, I blamed Palestinians for the harsh treatment they received at the hands of the State -- after all, one can hardly blame a nation for retaliating against terrorist acts. Yet at the same time, I held the Israel to a higher standard. As a people, having suffered so much, how could they turn around and cause another group to suffer similarly, incited by the same nebulous yet polarizing excuse (race/ethnicity/religion)? If anyone should have a sense of mercy and justice, I thought, oughtn't it be this people who have been so...

Pilgrimage. Is that what I did in Israel-Palestine? It was an easy answer for the border and customs officials asking the know purpose of my visit, accustomed as they are to the ranks of religious in that part of the world. My evangelical-Mennonite soul felt uncomfortable with the word, though. And in all honesty, my main aim in going was not to "walk where Jesus walked," but to see a country that has long fascinated me, and not just because it provides the setting for many of the events of the Bible. Were the tour entitled "See the Holy Land," "In the footsteps of Jesus," or "The land of the Patriarchs," it would hold little appeal for me. But "Ancient Stones, Living Stones"? That caught my attention. I wanted to interact with this convergence of ancient history and current affairs; with the juxtaposition of religious thrill-seekers and present political feuders. And perhaps that's half of what true pilgrimage is -- not only seekin...

Do I believe that words have power? Yes. Do I believe that information can solve a conflict? It can certainly help. Can I then stay silent about what I am hearing, and the people I am meeting? Rather than spewing my own emotion and opinion, let me open a window for you, to the people I have met and the stories I have heard. A shopkeeper tells me that he made no money from his shop for four years after the first Intifada. He is proud of the beautiful country in which he lives, where there is desert, snow, mountains, plains, beaches, and great biodiversity. For 17 years, however, he has not been able to travel much beyond his immediate environs -- has has not most of the above. He has no hope for himself. Yet he is not bitter. There is no rancour in his talk, though he cannot speak of hope, and the faith of his childhood has departed. But how does he describe a politician whose inequitable policies have greatly damaged his and his family's ability to make a livelihood? "He is a ...

When I was in the Netherlands, every time our group of Mennonite trainees were together at a church service, we were called upon to sing; for, in the words of one Dutch pastor, "a group of Nederlanders just make noise, but a group of North American Mennonites is an instant choir." North Carolinian Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, a lead thinker in the growing new monasticism movement, knew to attribute improvised harmonies to Mennonites in the audience, when he invited those gathered to hear him speak in Winnipeg to join in an impromptu song. This past weekend, at a conference attended by mostly middle-aged male Mennonite pastors, mostly of "Mennonite ethnicity," we sang grace -- Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow -- and the harmony was rich and strong in confident male voices. I love being a part of a tradition which can pull off a spontaneous rendition of the complicated interwoven harmonies of " Old 606 " or " Friedensfurst " -- or at least, us...

For three and a half years out of four, I care nothing about hockey. But then the Olympics comes. And suddenly, I care deeply that we (Canada) win. When the "Own the Podium" battle cry was beginning to feel embarrassingly underachieved, I consoled myself, and anyone who needed to hear it, that we were pretty much assured gold in women's hockey, we had darn well better medal in mens' hockey, and we'd likely medal in both mens' and women's curling. And those predictions did materialize to almost the best possible outcome. Scott Russell of CBC suggested out that Own the Podium was misinterpreted to mean things it wasn't intending. In an article entitled "Own the Podium: Lost in Translation," Russell argues that OtP was mean to encourage the very ideals the Olmpics are supposed to represent -- the struggle to do one's best, and the participation in competition together -- as envisioned by the modern Games' founder, Pierre de Co...

Feb. 11 is Youth Day in Cameroon. Apparently, it was originally set aside as a holiday called Plebiscite Day, but I guess someone realized that was very unexciting, and they changed it to something with more promise. See "the leaders of tomorrow" marching through Bekondo below.

"Everything in our culture has a meta-narrative of good guys vs bad guys," says Vern Neufeld Redekop of St Paul University, Ottawa. He was speaking about reconciliation and economics, and why it's often hard to get to the point of choosing the communal good above personal gain. What really got me thinking was when he mentioned the amount of this rhetoric in George W. Bush's speech. It is unacceptable for someone who calls him or herself a follower of Christ to accept such false dichotomies in their thinking. We are to be agents of reconciliation in the world (2 Corinthians 5:18&19), and most of the rhetoric of reconciliation and healing begins with really listening to and seeking to understand the "other". This does not leave room for enemies, or "bad guys". Neither do the teachings of Jesus, who instructed us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Matthew 5:44). It's not from malicious intent that Christians have often be...

Biking down Wellington Avenue today, as I passed palatial garages, I was struck by the fact that these people's cars have nicer houses than many people in the world. Before you think I'm picking on the rich, please hear that I then considered that any North American with a decent garage provides their cars with more substantial shelter than many people in the world sleep under. And while I thought it highly appropriate for this discrepancy to give us pause, this is not a call for guilt. Is it injust that some should have so much while others have so little? Certainly. Should we be aware of the imbalance, and our place on the overprivileged side of the scale? Absolutely. Should we feel guilty? I'm not convinced. Guilt is often not a helpful emotion. Unless guilt motivates us toward repentance, to turning away from those patterns that caused us to feel guilty, or to take action of some sort, it quickly turns into a swirling, sucking drain. How often have you heard or said, ...

It has been inexcusably long since I've written -- particularly given my resolution, just before the sharp drop-off in posts, to update regularly. Many blog posts have been half-written in my head, biking home from work, but somehow I lack the motivation, conviction, or courage to do the work to making them coherent and concrete writing. Since the best way to overcome the inertia of not getting things done is to start getting things done, I will take the easy route here, in order to at least make something happen. Thus, a quote that tickled my fancy from a Sightings (column produced by the Martin Marty Center at the University of Chicago Divinity School) article by Heather A. Hartel way back in 2008, on the Vatican's changes to the English translation of the central prayers of the liturgy. "The new English translation mandates the return of formal language," she writes, "by insisting upon better fidelity to the Latin Missal ." Apparently, the motive for...