So I'm finished my first week of "school," and things are going reasonably well. I'm finished my first book and started on my second, John Shelby Spong's book Why Chirstianity Must Change or Die. I've had this book for years, but it's mostly been on the shelves of one of my two elder children, so I haven't had a chance to read it yet. I'm not expecting any big revelations--I've read some of his other work, and this seems at first glance to be more of the same. And while he wrote the book for a lay audience, I already have theological training that takes me beyond that level. But I do hope that in reading the book, new questions will arise for me to tackle during my year.
As far as some of the other "requirements" are concerned:
1) I tried setting my home page to the Wikipedia random article, as suggested. It drove me nuts within the first two days, and I switched back to Google, where it will remain. I use Google half a dozen or more times per day, and having it as one of my multitude of bookmarks instead of my home page was, to put it simply, a pain in the a$$. And far too many of the random articles that came up were one or two line "stubs" with no real substance to them.
Instead, I have Stumble, which I use for about ten minutes at a time whenever I go on the web, which is at least twice a day. While a lot of what comes up is just cute kittens, I've also read a lot of good articles that I wouldn't otherwise have read. And about half the time, I end up at least once on a random Wikipedia page. So if the point is to read things you wouldn't necessarily read, and broaden your horizons, I consider stumbling to be an acceptable substitute.
2) I can't afford a gym or health club, or a trip abroad for that matter. So, since the good weather is finally here (touch wood!), I'm going to be walking three or more times per week. Did twice this week--not so great. But I did spend Monday night doing some fairly hard physical labour helping a friend clean a really, really dirty house. So I'll call that done, and do more walking next week.
Eventually, I hope to have some kind of home gym to do weights and maybe something like yoga, but this is a start.
3) Posted more than twice on my blog, though I didn't manage yesterday. Today is the post you should have gotten yesterday. Have some exciting plans for the future of this and my other blogs, but they're only in the embryo stage at the moment.
4) I have to check out The Economist at the library. If the content is too American, I'll be looking for a Canadian equivalent. But I will be looking to subscribe to some weekly journal or other in the near future.
Now on to the choices.
Languages: I have to choose a language to learn. I'm going to choose either Spanish or French, depending on whether or not I can find some conversation partners for either language. More on this later.
Three new skills:
My list of possibilities so far includes:
A martial art
Belly dancing
Aluminum can crafts
Drawing realistically, specifically the human figure
Sewing
Swordfighting/fencing
Archery
Skydiving
Model building
Music composition
Knitting/Crochet
Fishing
Racewalking
Acting
Web Page Design
HTML coding
Arcylic Painting
Clay Sculpture
Social Networking (using Twitter/Facebook, etc.)
Making homemade organic cat food
Carpentry
Wood carving
Hunting (bow)
That's a pretty eclectic list, I know. But all of the above skills have some things in common:
a) I either have never done them before, or I have but never did them well and have forgotten how because it's been so long
b) Most of them require either materials I have on hand or can lay my hands on cheaply, and instruction available locally that isn't horribly expensive. The better options (and the ones I'm most likely to select) are free or nearly free. Some of them (bow hunting, skydiving) are expensive, but have appealed to my sense of whimsy for so long that eventually I'm going to give them a try.
c) I can believe that the options above are or will be by the end of the year within my physical and mental capabilities.
There are some ommissions to the list that others might think would be definite inclusions. I don't have learning to play a musical instrument on there. That's because I'd like to develop my viola and piano skills to a higher degree, and as soon as I'm employed, I'll be taking singing lessons again, too. That's enough of that area for now. So no instruments, and if you are tempted to suggest opera singing, well, what do you think I was doing in my lessons when I had to quit? :D
So my question to you all is: Do you have any suggestions for skills I might learn during the next year? Cheap is obviously preferred, easy not necessarily so.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Some Thoughts About Push
"First thing I see when I wake up is picture of Farrakhan's face on the wall. He is against crack addicts and crackers. Crackers is the cause of everything bad. It why may father ack like he do. He has forgot he is the Original Man!" (p. 34)
Precious seems to know almost nothing about Farrakhan and the Nation of Islam, except that he condemns drug abuse and "crackers" (Southern slang for Whites). Farrakhan is like a god to the abused and neglected teen: "I jus' want to lay down, listen to radio, look at picture of Farrakhan, a real man, who don't fuck his daughter, fuck children." (p. 58)
Precious is like millions of other lost souls--confused about why she is singled out for abuse and poverty in a world where it seems that everyone else has it better than she does. And she begins, as we all do in such situations, to play what I call "The Blame Game."
I has to be (and usually is) someone's fault that we're so put upon. Someone other than ourselves, that is.
So far, so good. Precious seems to recognize, on some level, that the abuse is not her fault. A father should not have sex with his daughter. Mothers should be fixing dinner for their children, not the other way around. White people have a disproportionate say in what happens to Precious, and welfare workers don't really care about her or her dreams--they only care about getting her off welfare, despite the fact that prematurely ending her literacy classes and sending her out to do menial work for a living condemns her and her children to repeat the cycle of poverty and abuse.
But along with blaming others comes the attitude that the person who caused the situation should be the one to rectify it. Of course that doesn't happen--why would the abuser change a system that works so much in his or her favour?
When that doesn't work, often what follows is a complete "renunciation" of the values of the oppressor. I put renunciation in quotes, because often what the abused person comes up with is a mirror image of the values that led to the oppression in the first place.
Such is the case with Farrakhan and his Nation of Islam: "First, the program starts with number one. That is number four. The first part of that program is that we want freedom, a full and complete freedom. The second is, we want justice. We want equal justice under the law, and we want justice applied equally to all, regardless of race or class or color. And the third is that we want equality. We want equal membership in society with the best in civilized society. If we can get that within the political, economic, social system of America, there's no need for point number four. But if we cannot get along in peace after giving America 400 years of our service and sweat and labor, then, of course, separation would be the solution to our race problem."
Let's go back to the fifties, when separation was the norm, only instead of white people having all the good stuff, black people will have it. Instead of black people being criminals by nature, more like monkeys than man, devils in the guise of humans, it's white people who are devils, criminals, and not "Original" humans, whatever that's supposed to mean.(Citations and quote here.)
It's typical fundamentalist dogma that requires little thought on the part of participants, and not much more from the leaders. It holds tremendous appeal for the masses, who have not, as a rule, been taught to think (or do) for themselves.
Precious manages to break free from this fundamentalist mind trap with the help of "Miz Rain," who teaches Precious not only to read, but to question and think. It's hard work, that questioning, that thinking. It's even harder work to pull herself free of the cycle of abuse and poverty that she's found herself in, because although she finds friends and helpers along the way, she realizes that it's Precious Jones who has to do most of the work--no-one can do it for her.
And she finds that her helpers aren't all (or even mostly) shining examples of the Perfect Black Man. Most of them are women. They're "faggits." They're hispanic. They've got rotten teeth. They're loud-mouthed and bossy. They've been abused, just like her. Some of them (gasp!) are even white.
When she accepts the imperfections in her friends, Precious can begin to accept them in herself. When she opens herself up to love from others on the margins, she can begin to break down the prejudices that enslave her more thoroughly than her mother ever did.
One of the questions I've asked myself over and over again is, "Why do people, especially people on the margins and the unchurched, turn to fundamentalist religion rather than more moderate and thoughtful religion?"
And I think Precious may have helped answer that question just a little bit. When we're hurt, we want the hurt to stop. Now! And we don't want to waste a lot of time or energy to get it to stop, because we don't have a lot of time or energy to spare. We want to box ourselves in and protect ourselves. We want to curl up into a ball and have the world go away.
But the world doesn't go away when we close our eyes and repeat the magic phrase, "There's no place like home." Instead, it just goes on hurting us.
More thoughts on this later, of course. I've only just begun to scratch the surface here. But Push was a good opening choice for my readings and thinking. I have some additions to my reading list because of issues opened up during the reading:
Freedom Writers (which I haven't read yet)
Oliver Twist (ditto, believe it or not)
My suggestions for other readings would be Alice Walker's The Color Purple, which I've read a couple of times, and her short story "The Welcome Table".
Precious seems to know almost nothing about Farrakhan and the Nation of Islam, except that he condemns drug abuse and "crackers" (Southern slang for Whites). Farrakhan is like a god to the abused and neglected teen: "I jus' want to lay down, listen to radio, look at picture of Farrakhan, a real man, who don't fuck his daughter, fuck children." (p. 58)
Precious is like millions of other lost souls--confused about why she is singled out for abuse and poverty in a world where it seems that everyone else has it better than she does. And she begins, as we all do in such situations, to play what I call "The Blame Game."
I has to be (and usually is) someone's fault that we're so put upon. Someone other than ourselves, that is.
So far, so good. Precious seems to recognize, on some level, that the abuse is not her fault. A father should not have sex with his daughter. Mothers should be fixing dinner for their children, not the other way around. White people have a disproportionate say in what happens to Precious, and welfare workers don't really care about her or her dreams--they only care about getting her off welfare, despite the fact that prematurely ending her literacy classes and sending her out to do menial work for a living condemns her and her children to repeat the cycle of poverty and abuse.
But along with blaming others comes the attitude that the person who caused the situation should be the one to rectify it. Of course that doesn't happen--why would the abuser change a system that works so much in his or her favour?
When that doesn't work, often what follows is a complete "renunciation" of the values of the oppressor. I put renunciation in quotes, because often what the abused person comes up with is a mirror image of the values that led to the oppression in the first place.
Such is the case with Farrakhan and his Nation of Islam: "First, the program starts with number one. That is number four. The first part of that program is that we want freedom, a full and complete freedom. The second is, we want justice. We want equal justice under the law, and we want justice applied equally to all, regardless of race or class or color. And the third is that we want equality. We want equal membership in society with the best in civilized society. If we can get that within the political, economic, social system of America, there's no need for point number four. But if we cannot get along in peace after giving America 400 years of our service and sweat and labor, then, of course, separation would be the solution to our race problem."
Let's go back to the fifties, when separation was the norm, only instead of white people having all the good stuff, black people will have it. Instead of black people being criminals by nature, more like monkeys than man, devils in the guise of humans, it's white people who are devils, criminals, and not "Original" humans, whatever that's supposed to mean.(Citations and quote here.)
It's typical fundamentalist dogma that requires little thought on the part of participants, and not much more from the leaders. It holds tremendous appeal for the masses, who have not, as a rule, been taught to think (or do) for themselves.
Precious manages to break free from this fundamentalist mind trap with the help of "Miz Rain," who teaches Precious not only to read, but to question and think. It's hard work, that questioning, that thinking. It's even harder work to pull herself free of the cycle of abuse and poverty that she's found herself in, because although she finds friends and helpers along the way, she realizes that it's Precious Jones who has to do most of the work--no-one can do it for her.
And she finds that her helpers aren't all (or even mostly) shining examples of the Perfect Black Man. Most of them are women. They're "faggits." They're hispanic. They've got rotten teeth. They're loud-mouthed and bossy. They've been abused, just like her. Some of them (gasp!) are even white.
When she accepts the imperfections in her friends, Precious can begin to accept them in herself. When she opens herself up to love from others on the margins, she can begin to break down the prejudices that enslave her more thoroughly than her mother ever did.
One of the questions I've asked myself over and over again is, "Why do people, especially people on the margins and the unchurched, turn to fundamentalist religion rather than more moderate and thoughtful religion?"
And I think Precious may have helped answer that question just a little bit. When we're hurt, we want the hurt to stop. Now! And we don't want to waste a lot of time or energy to get it to stop, because we don't have a lot of time or energy to spare. We want to box ourselves in and protect ourselves. We want to curl up into a ball and have the world go away.
But the world doesn't go away when we close our eyes and repeat the magic phrase, "There's no place like home." Instead, it just goes on hurting us.
More thoughts on this later, of course. I've only just begun to scratch the surface here. But Push was a good opening choice for my readings and thinking. I have some additions to my reading list because of issues opened up during the reading:
Freedom Writers (which I haven't read yet)
Oliver Twist (ditto, believe it or not)
My suggestions for other readings would be Alice Walker's The Color Purple, which I've read a couple of times, and her short story "The Welcome Table".
Monday, April 18, 2011
The First Book
My daughter pointed out something I'd already realized--that in order to make this course of independent study equivalent to a master's degree, I'm going to have to do the thinking and the writing to go along with the reading. Otherwise, I'd just be reading a bunch of books, and how is that different from normal?
Besides, after reading the first book on my reading list, I found I wanted and needed to integrate what I've read, and I do that best through writing.
Saturday afternoon, less than one day after "enrolling" in this course, I found myself at the library, looking for books to occupy me for the next three weeks, that being the loan period. I headed over to the classics section and grabbed a bunch of fiction that looked interesting. Wandered through the non-fiction sections, pulling stuff that looked like it might fit with my course of study, or that held wisdom I'd like to accumulate.
Went home, and pretty much at random picked Sapphire's novel Push as my first read.
There's nothing terribly original in Push. I've read The Color Purple and The Outsiders, and I know about Freedom Writers. I keep up with the news.
Despite the lack of originality in the overall concept, Push deserves every single bit of praise that's been heaped on it. Because Precious, from the first page to the last, is a real, living person to the reader. Over the last few days, I've had to keep reminding myself that Push is fiction, not a real story about a real person.
Except I know that when I say that to myself, I'm telling at least a partial untruth.
There really are kids who are sexually abused, beaten, neglected, enslaved. By their parents, more often than not.
There really are kids who sit in class day after day saying nothing, learning nothing. The teachers don't help because they've got 30 other kids, most of them noisy, to draw their attention away from the quiet one. And they don't get enough help, and nurses and psychologists and teacher-librarieans are the first positions cut by budget fanatics who want to save money. No matter that somewhere down the line, we will end up paying a whole lot more...
Doctors don't report suspected abuse, because spending time investigating and writing reports and testifying in court takes time away from treating patients, and often it's unpaid time at that.
Social workers have heavy caseloads, programs are full to overflowing, and self-improvement isn't a worthy life goal in a society where money does all the talking. The only goal is to reduce the caseloads as fast as possible, and that means slotting the victim into some sort of workfare, rather than helping them realize their full potential.
And there are very few countries on earth (are there any, really?) where kid's voices are taken seriously, and where kids have the same rights as adults.
I fouund a decent study guide for Push. I'm going to take some time today and tomorrow to answer and enlarge on a few of the quesions in it. I'll post my ruminations on Wednesday.
In the meantime, I'd encourage you to read the book if you haven't already, and join me in the discussion.
Besides, after reading the first book on my reading list, I found I wanted and needed to integrate what I've read, and I do that best through writing.
Saturday afternoon, less than one day after "enrolling" in this course, I found myself at the library, looking for books to occupy me for the next three weeks, that being the loan period. I headed over to the classics section and grabbed a bunch of fiction that looked interesting. Wandered through the non-fiction sections, pulling stuff that looked like it might fit with my course of study, or that held wisdom I'd like to accumulate.
Went home, and pretty much at random picked Sapphire's novel Push as my first read.
There's nothing terribly original in Push. I've read The Color Purple and The Outsiders, and I know about Freedom Writers. I keep up with the news.
Despite the lack of originality in the overall concept, Push deserves every single bit of praise that's been heaped on it. Because Precious, from the first page to the last, is a real, living person to the reader. Over the last few days, I've had to keep reminding myself that Push is fiction, not a real story about a real person.
Except I know that when I say that to myself, I'm telling at least a partial untruth.
There really are kids who are sexually abused, beaten, neglected, enslaved. By their parents, more often than not.
There really are kids who sit in class day after day saying nothing, learning nothing. The teachers don't help because they've got 30 other kids, most of them noisy, to draw their attention away from the quiet one. And they don't get enough help, and nurses and psychologists and teacher-librarieans are the first positions cut by budget fanatics who want to save money. No matter that somewhere down the line, we will end up paying a whole lot more...
Doctors don't report suspected abuse, because spending time investigating and writing reports and testifying in court takes time away from treating patients, and often it's unpaid time at that.
Social workers have heavy caseloads, programs are full to overflowing, and self-improvement isn't a worthy life goal in a society where money does all the talking. The only goal is to reduce the caseloads as fast as possible, and that means slotting the victim into some sort of workfare, rather than helping them realize their full potential.
And there are very few countries on earth (are there any, really?) where kid's voices are taken seriously, and where kids have the same rights as adults.
I fouund a decent study guide for Push. I'm going to take some time today and tomorrow to answer and enlarge on a few of the quesions in it. I'll post my ruminations on Wednesday.
In the meantime, I'd encourage you to read the book if you haven't already, and join me in the discussion.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
I'm Going Back to School!
Sort of.
I was Stumbling around the net the other day, and came across this post. I read it. Then thought about it. And realized that while I couldn't afford to do everything on the list, I could certainly afford to to anything with a $0 price tag attached, and that it would be a pretty good substitute for playing Sims. Well, some of the time, anyhow.
Now I already have two master's degrees. I don't really need any more. But that doesn't mean my education's over by a long shot. There's a lot I haven't seen, heard, done, or read. A lot of things that I'd like to do before I finally kick the bucket.
You'll find online or in bookstores literally hundreds of books that tell you what you should do or see or learn before you die (or reach the age of thirty, whichever comes first.) If you took them at their word, you'd be spending every single minute of your time watching movies or travelling to far-flung places or reading books, and you'd starve to death before two months passed, because you wouldn't have time to eat.
This list is a little different. For one thing, there's a specific time period involved. One year (though in my case, it'll take longer due to the financial aspects.)
There's a limit to what needs to be done or learned. 20 fiction books, 30 non-fiction books, 3 new skills, 1 language.
And the skills and the books and the language aren't dictated by the author of the post. You can choose what suits you best, which means that everyone's "freeform master's degree" is going to be different.
In my case, I can forsee the non-fiction reading being along the lines of religion and society, religion and science, and a few economic and business texts thrown in. The fiction I've already decided will be classics I haven't read before.
I'm hoping that I can somehow upgrade this jackboot master's programme into a doctorate, which means I'd have to have a theme of sorts, and a topic for a thesis that would develop into a book. Most likely is something to do with the place of religion in society. I wouldn't get the piece of paper, but that isn't the point. The point is, in my case, to produce some original writing on the topic that may somehow be worthy of publication, and might make some contribution to the debate on the place of religion in modern society.
Looking down the list, there are a couple of things that I've already got well covered. Basic presentation and public speaking skills, for one. Been doing presentations of many sorts, and doing them well, for decades now. I don't think toastmasters is going to be able to teach me what I don't already know. Writing well is another skill that I've already acquired. Though I may well read the suggested text, Bird by Bird, as it's available in my public library.
On to what I can start to do, right here, right now.
Blogging is the most obvious choice. I have three blogs right now. One, "Death by Trumpet", I haven't used in years. It was devoted to a particular novel I wrote for November National Novel Writing Month (NaNo) in 2009. I didn't finish posting the book, and I haven't used the blog since.
There's "Confessions of a Slob" which details my somewhat haphazard approach to cleaning and re-organizing my house.
Then there is this blog, which was originally intended to collect my pearls of wisdom on self-improvement, actually became an outlet for publishing some of my sermons (I did tell you I had some public speaking experience, didn't I?), and is now being re-purposed to become the vehicle for this experiment in self-education.
It actually won't change all that much except for one thing: I hereby commit to posting at least twice per week--once on Wednesday, and once on Saturday. And the scope will be somewhat widened--I may publish sermons, or musings on what I've read, or my answers to strange and wonderful philosophical quesions from this blog, or...
So the blog will still be, I hope about building an awesome life. It just won't all be sermons. (Don't y'all deafen me with your cheers, now!)
I was Stumbling around the net the other day, and came across this post. I read it. Then thought about it. And realized that while I couldn't afford to do everything on the list, I could certainly afford to to anything with a $0 price tag attached, and that it would be a pretty good substitute for playing Sims. Well, some of the time, anyhow.
Now I already have two master's degrees. I don't really need any more. But that doesn't mean my education's over by a long shot. There's a lot I haven't seen, heard, done, or read. A lot of things that I'd like to do before I finally kick the bucket.
You'll find online or in bookstores literally hundreds of books that tell you what you should do or see or learn before you die (or reach the age of thirty, whichever comes first.) If you took them at their word, you'd be spending every single minute of your time watching movies or travelling to far-flung places or reading books, and you'd starve to death before two months passed, because you wouldn't have time to eat.
This list is a little different. For one thing, there's a specific time period involved. One year (though in my case, it'll take longer due to the financial aspects.)
There's a limit to what needs to be done or learned. 20 fiction books, 30 non-fiction books, 3 new skills, 1 language.
And the skills and the books and the language aren't dictated by the author of the post. You can choose what suits you best, which means that everyone's "freeform master's degree" is going to be different.
In my case, I can forsee the non-fiction reading being along the lines of religion and society, religion and science, and a few economic and business texts thrown in. The fiction I've already decided will be classics I haven't read before.
I'm hoping that I can somehow upgrade this jackboot master's programme into a doctorate, which means I'd have to have a theme of sorts, and a topic for a thesis that would develop into a book. Most likely is something to do with the place of religion in society. I wouldn't get the piece of paper, but that isn't the point. The point is, in my case, to produce some original writing on the topic that may somehow be worthy of publication, and might make some contribution to the debate on the place of religion in modern society.
Looking down the list, there are a couple of things that I've already got well covered. Basic presentation and public speaking skills, for one. Been doing presentations of many sorts, and doing them well, for decades now. I don't think toastmasters is going to be able to teach me what I don't already know. Writing well is another skill that I've already acquired. Though I may well read the suggested text, Bird by Bird, as it's available in my public library.
On to what I can start to do, right here, right now.
Blogging is the most obvious choice. I have three blogs right now. One, "Death by Trumpet", I haven't used in years. It was devoted to a particular novel I wrote for November National Novel Writing Month (NaNo) in 2009. I didn't finish posting the book, and I haven't used the blog since.
There's "Confessions of a Slob" which details my somewhat haphazard approach to cleaning and re-organizing my house.
Then there is this blog, which was originally intended to collect my pearls of wisdom on self-improvement, actually became an outlet for publishing some of my sermons (I did tell you I had some public speaking experience, didn't I?), and is now being re-purposed to become the vehicle for this experiment in self-education.
It actually won't change all that much except for one thing: I hereby commit to posting at least twice per week--once on Wednesday, and once on Saturday. And the scope will be somewhat widened--I may publish sermons, or musings on what I've read, or my answers to strange and wonderful philosophical quesions from this blog, or...
So the blog will still be, I hope about building an awesome life. It just won't all be sermons. (Don't y'all deafen me with your cheers, now!)
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Music to My Ears
Over at RevGalBlogPals, some questions were asked that if answered, will tell you folks a lot about me. So here are the questions and answers:
1) Do you like to sing/listen to others sing? In worship, or on your own (or not at all?)
Yes. Just yes.
2) Did you grow up with music in worship, or come to it later in life? Tell us about it, and how that has changed in your experience.
My parents didn't have the kind of professional training that my kids have, but they are musicians just the same. They've sung in the choir my whole life, and when we came home from church, our conversations would sound more like bad opera than normal conversation. We had a piano, organ, autoharp and recorder, and as technology improved, my dad would always buy the latest recording and playback equipment.
Not much has changed in fifty years. Due to time constraints, I'm not in the choir, but I take vocal and piano lessons from our Music Minister, and I sing at times. My kids sing or play during worship, too, when asked.
3) Some people find worship incomplete without music; others would just as soon not have it. Where do you fall?
I can actually appreciate both. I'd rather have no music than bad music, meaning music that espouses a theology that's diametrically opposed to what I preach and believe. What matters most to me is the spiritual energy in the sanctuary or worship space.
4) Do you prefer traditional music in worship, or contemporary? That can mean many different things!
Yes. Handel, Bach, Jim Strathdee, and so on... Contemporary or classical, doesn't really matter. I love singing the "old favourites" just as much as I love singing contemporary hymns. It's all music to my ears.
5) What's your go-to music ... when you need solace or want to express joy? A video/recording will garner bonus points!
Here's hoping the link turns out properly...
So that's my take on worship in music. I went to a seminary where the music prof stated that the prerequisite for a Master of Divinity should be a Bachelor's degree in music. One of my kids has grown up to be a professional musician, who will be graduating with that B.Mus. in the spring. The eldest is a very talented amateur, who is presently in his first year of M.Div. studies. We have more instruments in our homes and more up-to-date recording equipment than my dad does, and the collection keeps on growing.
The beat goes on, indeed!
1) Do you like to sing/listen to others sing? In worship, or on your own (or not at all?)
Yes. Just yes.
2) Did you grow up with music in worship, or come to it later in life? Tell us about it, and how that has changed in your experience.
My parents didn't have the kind of professional training that my kids have, but they are musicians just the same. They've sung in the choir my whole life, and when we came home from church, our conversations would sound more like bad opera than normal conversation. We had a piano, organ, autoharp and recorder, and as technology improved, my dad would always buy the latest recording and playback equipment.
Not much has changed in fifty years. Due to time constraints, I'm not in the choir, but I take vocal and piano lessons from our Music Minister, and I sing at times. My kids sing or play during worship, too, when asked.
3) Some people find worship incomplete without music; others would just as soon not have it. Where do you fall?
I can actually appreciate both. I'd rather have no music than bad music, meaning music that espouses a theology that's diametrically opposed to what I preach and believe. What matters most to me is the spiritual energy in the sanctuary or worship space.
4) Do you prefer traditional music in worship, or contemporary? That can mean many different things!
Yes. Handel, Bach, Jim Strathdee, and so on... Contemporary or classical, doesn't really matter. I love singing the "old favourites" just as much as I love singing contemporary hymns. It's all music to my ears.
5) What's your go-to music ... when you need solace or want to express joy? A video/recording will garner bonus points!
Here's hoping the link turns out properly...
So that's my take on worship in music. I went to a seminary where the music prof stated that the prerequisite for a Master of Divinity should be a Bachelor's degree in music. One of my kids has grown up to be a professional musician, who will be graduating with that B.Mus. in the spring. The eldest is a very talented amateur, who is presently in his first year of M.Div. studies. We have more instruments in our homes and more up-to-date recording equipment than my dad does, and the collection keeps on growing.
The beat goes on, indeed!
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Talking About Church With My Daughter and My Mom
I had a long talk on the weekend with my mom and my daughter Allison, aged 22 years. The question was, "Why aren't more young people going to church?" It isn't that they aren't spiritual. Having worked with a number of 20-somethings over the past few years at the theatre, I know that that just isn't true. And some of the materils I read from the local Unitarian congregation got me thinking--they have fifty members, and fifteen children enrolled in their children's program, which is a much higher ratio than any mainline Christian church I've been to in a while. Why are they turning to the Unitarians, and not the churches of their parents and grandparents?
My mom and I noted that many churches are now located in "mature" areas, where few if any young people live. Yet instead of facing reality and serving the surrounging population of seniors, they'd rather moan about how the Sunday School is dwindling. Usually this is accompanied by memories of the "glory days" of the late fifties and early sixties, when the building was full to overflowing with kids.
But not only are fewer people regularly attending church as in those days, there simply aren't as many kids! Large families are not the norm anymore. Schools that were full to overflowing when I was a kid have closed their doors. The baby boom generation is not young anymore--we're now approaching senior citizen status. It provides a tremendous opportunity for the church, but not the one the church seems to be looking for.
Allison remarked that "Christianity has a bad name among 20-somethings." This was the statement we unpacked in the car on the long drive home from her grandparent's house.
First off came the expected comment about how what they read in the bible, what they learn in school and in the world, and what they see their elders actually doing are all at odds with one another. My daughter told me that she had learned the lesson that I'd taught--that the bible must be put in the context it was written in order to understand it, and was never meant to be read as literally as some Christians read it, but that most of her age-mates didn't have that advantage. I got a warm fuzzy from that--apparently, things that I've taught my kids actually stuck, because they actually listen to me and respect what I say!
We talked about how a few vocal conservative evangelical Christians are getting all the publicity. The group that wants to burn the Qur'an is getting a lot of press right now. That group contains fifty people, far less than my liberal United Church family. And most of us would disagree-some of us quite strongly-with what this group is doing. But they get the press, and we remain silent. I've heard a lot about the government reaction to this (thankfully, negative), but there seems to be silence on the part of the mainline churches. My mother asked, "Does this mean we have to make more noise?" and my daughter's immediate answer was, "Yes!"
From the environment, to gay rights, to justice for native peoples, to the authority and place of the bible, the majority of the United Church is actually in step with what most 20-somethings believe, but they don't know it because we don't tell them! We need to speak out, often and loud, in order to say, "This is what we believe, and why, and we're proud to be different!"
The second thing she told me is that our worship rituals are incomprehensible to outsiders. We stand up and sit down in random places, sing songs that have theologies that don't relate to real life. God is omnipotent, omnipresent, and always good. Viewed that way, Haitian earthquakes or flooding in Pakistan are incomprehensible. Since the flooding and the earthquakes are real and verifiable, our views of God must be skewed, they reason. Then we recite randome words like zombies--all together, but not really thinking about what we're saying or why. We need to re-think our worship, and if we decide that it's fine the way it is, we need to do a much better job of orienting new folks to the worship service. And like it or lump it, if an "old favourite" doesn't really reflect what we believe, it's time to change the words or stop singing the hymn. "Onward Christian Soldiers" is no longer in our hymn book. The omission caused much controversy, but given the current climate, I'm glad it's not in there anymore. It doesn't reflect who we are or how we want to be in the world.
I got a vision when she was talking about the incomprehensibility of our service of doing an "alien" worship service--one where the "usual" order of service wasn't followed. Sitting in a circle. Asking questions and inviting discussion instead of preaching. Singing popular songs instead of hymns. Talking in text speak, or about video games. Think on this--we want to invite 20-somethings into our midst, yet most of us don't even speak their language, and most sermons aren't addressed to their concerns. How would it feel to most regular church attendees? I've tried "alternative" services before--ones that invited participation, ones where I used Power Point or drama or storytelling. In general, they were well received, but some folks sat in the back, arms crossed, and most folks agreed that they'd only like it "once in a while." The familiar was far more comfortable, even if they got more out of the alternative. But we didn't discuss at all the concept that the familiar to us isn't familiar at all to those outside our "in-group," and constitutes a barrier.
Of course at some point during the service, we ask for money, and don't give any information about what it's for. Something about the "General Fund," whatever that is, and the "Mission and Service Fund," which sounds a bit more promising, but still really general. Think about this--would you rather pay an extra $100 in taxes, or would you rather donate $100 to the building fund of a local hospital? Even though hospitals in Canada are funded with tax and health care premiums, we'd still rather donate directly than pay extra taxes, because we know where our money is going! So why don't we tell people, on a week-by-week basis, where their money goes?
No wonder the ones that come in don't stay! They don't really understand what's going on, and no-one thinks to teach them, or they believe (often rightly) that we only want them to serve us, and not the other way around. Sometimes it seems that the only things we really want are their bodies in the pews, the contents of their wallets in the offering plates, and their kids enrolled in our Sunday Schools. In support of this statement, I read JNAC report from a United Church which will remain nameless, not to protect the guilty, but because it could be the JNAC of a vast majority of the United Churches I know. The report talked about falling attendance, and aging parishioners. It talked about how "alternative" services had been tried, but with no success, but how the congregation was willing to change if it would pull younger people in. That's hopeful, as far as it goes, but then it spent a lot of time on financials, and how it takes x number of younger givers to replace 1 older giver who has died.
The report admitted that they had only talked to members. There was no indication of any contact with the outside world whatsoever--no statement of how the congregation was involved in local mission or outreach. There was no asking, "How can we meet their needs?" Instead, the only question asked was, "How can they meet our needs?"
I've got news for you folks--the world isn't here to meet our needs. We're here to meet the world's needs. And if we want more people to join us, the first thing we have to do is let them know who we are and what we're really here for.
My mom and I noted that many churches are now located in "mature" areas, where few if any young people live. Yet instead of facing reality and serving the surrounging population of seniors, they'd rather moan about how the Sunday School is dwindling. Usually this is accompanied by memories of the "glory days" of the late fifties and early sixties, when the building was full to overflowing with kids.
But not only are fewer people regularly attending church as in those days, there simply aren't as many kids! Large families are not the norm anymore. Schools that were full to overflowing when I was a kid have closed their doors. The baby boom generation is not young anymore--we're now approaching senior citizen status. It provides a tremendous opportunity for the church, but not the one the church seems to be looking for.
Allison remarked that "Christianity has a bad name among 20-somethings." This was the statement we unpacked in the car on the long drive home from her grandparent's house.
First off came the expected comment about how what they read in the bible, what they learn in school and in the world, and what they see their elders actually doing are all at odds with one another. My daughter told me that she had learned the lesson that I'd taught--that the bible must be put in the context it was written in order to understand it, and was never meant to be read as literally as some Christians read it, but that most of her age-mates didn't have that advantage. I got a warm fuzzy from that--apparently, things that I've taught my kids actually stuck, because they actually listen to me and respect what I say!
We talked about how a few vocal conservative evangelical Christians are getting all the publicity. The group that wants to burn the Qur'an is getting a lot of press right now. That group contains fifty people, far less than my liberal United Church family. And most of us would disagree-some of us quite strongly-with what this group is doing. But they get the press, and we remain silent. I've heard a lot about the government reaction to this (thankfully, negative), but there seems to be silence on the part of the mainline churches. My mother asked, "Does this mean we have to make more noise?" and my daughter's immediate answer was, "Yes!"
From the environment, to gay rights, to justice for native peoples, to the authority and place of the bible, the majority of the United Church is actually in step with what most 20-somethings believe, but they don't know it because we don't tell them! We need to speak out, often and loud, in order to say, "This is what we believe, and why, and we're proud to be different!"
The second thing she told me is that our worship rituals are incomprehensible to outsiders. We stand up and sit down in random places, sing songs that have theologies that don't relate to real life. God is omnipotent, omnipresent, and always good. Viewed that way, Haitian earthquakes or flooding in Pakistan are incomprehensible. Since the flooding and the earthquakes are real and verifiable, our views of God must be skewed, they reason. Then we recite randome words like zombies--all together, but not really thinking about what we're saying or why. We need to re-think our worship, and if we decide that it's fine the way it is, we need to do a much better job of orienting new folks to the worship service. And like it or lump it, if an "old favourite" doesn't really reflect what we believe, it's time to change the words or stop singing the hymn. "Onward Christian Soldiers" is no longer in our hymn book. The omission caused much controversy, but given the current climate, I'm glad it's not in there anymore. It doesn't reflect who we are or how we want to be in the world.
I got a vision when she was talking about the incomprehensibility of our service of doing an "alien" worship service--one where the "usual" order of service wasn't followed. Sitting in a circle. Asking questions and inviting discussion instead of preaching. Singing popular songs instead of hymns. Talking in text speak, or about video games. Think on this--we want to invite 20-somethings into our midst, yet most of us don't even speak their language, and most sermons aren't addressed to their concerns. How would it feel to most regular church attendees? I've tried "alternative" services before--ones that invited participation, ones where I used Power Point or drama or storytelling. In general, they were well received, but some folks sat in the back, arms crossed, and most folks agreed that they'd only like it "once in a while." The familiar was far more comfortable, even if they got more out of the alternative. But we didn't discuss at all the concept that the familiar to us isn't familiar at all to those outside our "in-group," and constitutes a barrier.
Of course at some point during the service, we ask for money, and don't give any information about what it's for. Something about the "General Fund," whatever that is, and the "Mission and Service Fund," which sounds a bit more promising, but still really general. Think about this--would you rather pay an extra $100 in taxes, or would you rather donate $100 to the building fund of a local hospital? Even though hospitals in Canada are funded with tax and health care premiums, we'd still rather donate directly than pay extra taxes, because we know where our money is going! So why don't we tell people, on a week-by-week basis, where their money goes?
No wonder the ones that come in don't stay! They don't really understand what's going on, and no-one thinks to teach them, or they believe (often rightly) that we only want them to serve us, and not the other way around. Sometimes it seems that the only things we really want are their bodies in the pews, the contents of their wallets in the offering plates, and their kids enrolled in our Sunday Schools. In support of this statement, I read JNAC report from a United Church which will remain nameless, not to protect the guilty, but because it could be the JNAC of a vast majority of the United Churches I know. The report talked about falling attendance, and aging parishioners. It talked about how "alternative" services had been tried, but with no success, but how the congregation was willing to change if it would pull younger people in. That's hopeful, as far as it goes, but then it spent a lot of time on financials, and how it takes x number of younger givers to replace 1 older giver who has died.
The report admitted that they had only talked to members. There was no indication of any contact with the outside world whatsoever--no statement of how the congregation was involved in local mission or outreach. There was no asking, "How can we meet their needs?" Instead, the only question asked was, "How can they meet our needs?"
I've got news for you folks--the world isn't here to meet our needs. We're here to meet the world's needs. And if we want more people to join us, the first thing we have to do is let them know who we are and what we're really here for.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
The Letter and the Spirit
Scripture Reading: Luke 13: 10-17
Let me get one thing straight before we get started here: The leader of the synagogue was right. Jesus was breaking the law of the Sabbath, and in the synagogue in the presence of the faithful, no less!
I mean, it’s really clear--one of the few laws in human history that was actually written in stone. “Six days you shall labour and do all your work. But the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work--you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns.” Exodus 20, verses 9 and 10. Number four on the top ten laws of all time list. Couldn’t be clearer, really, and here Jesus was, breaking the law, right after teaching about it!
When we read texts like the one from Luke that I just read, all too often we read into it two thousand years of Christian interpretations, not all of them good interpretations. We lose the sense of Jesus as a Jewish teacher teaching to Jews, and see him as a Christian, trying to convert the Jews, or condemn them.
But there were no Christians present that morning. Christianity as a movement was born at Easter, and Easter hadn’t happened yet. There were only Jews and more Jews, and Jesus here was very definitely breaking Jewish law.
Perhaps you’re now thinking, “Maybe this Jewish law was just a little too strict. Maybe it needed breaking.”
The problem with breaking a law is that it can be a slippery slope. When is it okay to speed? Or run a red light? Is it okay at three in the morning, when there are no other cars on the road and no one to see? How about at three in the afternoon, outside a public school? If you leave breaking the law up to people’s discretion, how can you trust that they won’t kill somebody? Instead of posting a speed limit, why not just post a sign that says, “School ahead. Use your discretion!”
Perhaps because what some people consider careful isn’t really careful enough?
It is the same with this law about work on the Sabbath. It’s actually a law that makes very good sense. A Sabbath day is not only a day to connect with God, but a day to recover from the rest of the week, to nurture family and other relationships, a day to meditate and focus on what needs to be done the coming week. It gives even slaves and animals some respite from toil.
As we read through the gospel according to Luke, we get the sense that everywhere Jesus went he was accosted by people wanting to be healed. It was non-stop. And this Sabbath morning, the synagogue seemed to be full of more people wanting to be healed. Jesus needed a day off.
And more than that, as the teacher that day, he was providing an example for every person present.
Preachers know about this. No matter whether the minister wants it or not, no matter even if the congregation realizes it or not, the minister is looked upon as someone who should be providing an example worth following. And most of us do our very best to be a good example.
And here Jesus was, breaking the law!
Of course the leader of the synagogue is going to take action and condemn him! Otherwise, the members of the congregation might go home thinking it’s okay to work on the Sabbath, and pretty soon, the synagogue will be empty because everyone is working. And there will be greater incidences of burn out. And families will fall apart because the parents won’t have time to nurture their relationships with their children and with one another. And people won’t have time to volunteer any more because they’re working.
And none of this is conjecture, either. It has happened, it is happening, because many people refuse to take a day off to commune with themselves, with God, and with each other.
That’s what the synagogue leader was worried about when he was condemning Jesus for healing on the Sabbath, and it’s hardly fair to label him as a villain just because he was upset about Jesus breaking the law.
Let’s fast forward two thousand or so. To last week, to be exact. Last week, a boat called the MV Sun Sea was escorted into port in Vancouver. On board were 492 Tamil refugees from Sri Lanka, and even before the refugees set foot on land the fur started flying.
Canada has an embassy in Sri Lanka, and Tamils in Sri Lanka can and do apply for immigrant or refugee status from their home country. There’s a process, and a line-up that can take years, and these 492 people decided to skip the line-up, get on a boat, and hope that somebody somewhere would take them in. They tried Malaysia and Australia before making the long voyage north to Vancouver.
They were well stocked, and the ship was fitted out, if not in a comfortable fashion, at least in a livable one. Women and children had separate quarters, sleeping and eating areas were separate, there was adequate food on board, and adequate sanitation. Only one person died on the voyage, and it appears that none of the refugees had TB or any other of the communicable diseases that are notorious for arriving on such ships.
This was a well-planned and financed escape, not a spur-of-the moment voyage into the unknown.
The fear is that the voyage was financed by the Tamil Tigers, a rebel group outlawed as a terrorist faction by both the Sri Lankan and Canadian governments. There is fear that even if the refugees aren’t Tamil Tigers, they’ll be forced to pay money to the Tigers in order to ensure the safety of their families in Canada and Sri Lanka. There is fear that these refugees are just the start of a mass exodus and that soon we’ll be over-run by boats from Sri Lanka. Indeed we know there are more boats following. One has already landed.
The refugees jumped the queue, and took matters into their own hands instead of following procedures that are in place to get them here. They also pose a risk to our society that some say is unacceptable.
But today, as two thousand years ago, there’s another side to the story. The law is not the be all and end all that it seems to be, and sometimes risk is necessary in order to ensure justice.
Because our laws today have as their basis the same underlying principle as the Ten Commandments. A few weeks ago, we heard the tale of the Good Samaritan. A lawyer asks Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What is written in the law?” Jesus says.
“You shall love the Lord God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.”
That isn’t a Christian interpretation of the law, by the way. It’s a paraphrase of some verses in Deuteronomy and Leviticus.
Love is the basis of the law--love for God, self, and neighbour.
And what Jesus was showing and telling the congregation that Sabbath was that NO ONE lives strictly in obedience to the letter of the law. We all understand that not only is it impossible to do so, but that if we do so in the face of the distress of our neighbours, friends and families, we are keeping the letter of the law, but violating its spirit. If your donkey is thirsty, you give him a drink, Sabbath or no Sabbath, because it’s the right thing to do.
Jesus saw a woman who had been crippled for eighteen years. It’s true, she probably could have waited another day or two, except that then she’d have to stand in line with the rest of the crowd. Being crippled, she’d probably be pushed out of the way. Maybe the disciples would have overlooked her. It’s possible she might have died waiting.
Or maybe Jesus looked at her and thought, “You’ve waited long enough and suffered enough, lady. I’m going to help you right here and now.”
And wasn’t the Sabbath a great day to set her free? Won’t she keep the Sabbath much more closely now, knowing that it’s the day that she was set free!
Jesus understood that the spirit of the law was the whole reason for the law in the first place, and that if you keep to the letter of the law but destroy the spirit, then the law is worse than useless.
And so I return to our Tamil refugees.
I admit right here and now that I have a somewhat personal stake in this. With the permission of a friend of mine, I’m going to tell you a little bit more about why we should treat those refugees with compassion and respect, and allow them to stay in Canada.
I met Darzian on an internet message board for writers that I’ve frequented for many years now. Two years ago, he posted about what life was like for him as a Tamil in Sri Lanka. Like all citizens of our modern world, he had to carry ID. Unlike Canadian ID, though, Darzian’s ID didn’t say he was Sri Lankan. It said he was Tamil.
This automatically gave the police the right to stop and question him, and detain him at whim. If detained, he could have been tortured, or held without trial or bail. Darzian wrote that typical questioning might include where you live (with further questioning if you live in the “wrong” place), where you’re going and why you’re going there, what your occupation or work is…
Can you imagine our police having such power over a segment of our population?
This is part of an “emergency rule” that has been going on for years. The government tells its critics that they only want to weed out the terrorists. To do so, they also put a larger percentage of the Tamil population in internment camps, which they say they will disband as soon as they’ve determined whether or not the residents are members of the Tamil Tigers. The camps are still in place, years after they were set up.
I’m wondering about this time if anyone here is getting a sense of déjà vu? Perhaps those of you who are old enough to remember, or who have studied history, might be hearkening back to the Second World War.
And maybe you’re thinking, “Is it really THAT bad?”
In May 2009 the Sri Lankan government launched an offensive against the Tigers, and tens of thousands of innocent Tamils were slaughtered because the Tigers were using them as human shields. Neither the Tigers nor the government seemed to care that innocent people were being slaughtered.
Yes, it is that bad.
And the situation that the refugees will return to if deported to Sri Lanka is sufficiently severe enough that we need to look beyond the letter of the law to the spirit.
Darzian writes, “I hope that these individuals are not sent back because they will have no life if they are. They will be detained at the Sri Lankan airport and then tortured in jails. I can say with a fair degree of certainty that any Tamils deported from the boat will not see the light of day again.”
I might be inclined to thing that he’s over reacting, except that both our government and the United Nations have cited the Sri Lankan government for human rights abuses, and everything he says has been substantiated as far as is possible by accredited international observers. Maybe we just ought to take the time to listen to and believe my friend.
It is not the spirit or the letter of our law that we EVER deport people, even people who have been convicted of murder, back to a place where they face almost certain torture or death. And these people have not been convicted of any crime--in fact, even those calling for their deportation admit that the majority are almost certainly real refugees and not terrorists.
Just as the woman who had been crippled for eighteen years jumped the line and was healed on the Sabbath, these refugees today are asking to be let in now, instead of being processed in order.
And Jesus answered that perhaps she had a right to do so, because she‘d waited so long. Our refugees have dealt with the same sort of problems.
Darzian’s father came to Canada four years before he and his mother and sister did. He came first, as the men on the MV Sun Sea did, to get established--to find a job and a place where the family could all live together. Then the remaining family members applied to come to Canada, sponsored by Darzian’s father. It took 1 ½ years. Given the situation in Sri Lanka, that would have been 1 ½ years of constant danger. Eventually, Darzian had to get out--being male, he was possibly subjected to greater scrutiny by the authorities. In addition, he was ready to go to university, and that’s something he couldn’t do in Sri Lanka. He obtained a student visa for Malaysia, and spent one semester there.
One Friday about a year ago, Darzian’s mother got a call telling her to present her passport, her daughter’s passport, and her son’s passport at the embassy on Monday morning. Missing that deadline would have meant months more of waiting, and Darzian was in the middle of nowhere in Malaysia.
They did it. Darzian wrapped up his life in Malaysia in less than a day, and on that Monday morning they were at the embassy with their passports.
That wasn’t quite the end of the harassment, though. Even at the airport, with passports and visas in order, they were detained and questioned.
It took over 1 ½ years even though they had a family member in Canada with a job and a home who would take responsibility for them. Imagine how long it would take, how many hurdles would have to be jumped, if he hadn’t had a father already here. The refugees on that boat are desperate. They don’t want anything particularly special--they only want the chances that we’ve been given by virtue of our residence in Canada.
The ability to leave home and walk down the sidewalk without fear of being arrested for no reason. The chance to travel on public transit without fear of the vehicle exploding. (These are Darzian’s own reflections, not mine.)
In Darzian’s case, the freedom to pursue higher education, with the goal of becoming a doctor.
I invited Darzian and his family to join us here this morning, but he wrote back that he and his family were going to be enjoying another freedom many of us take for granted.
He and his family, far from being a drain on the welfare system that some critics believe refugees to be, have worked hard, and they bought a house. In Toronto. This weekend is their moving day.
When someone jumps out of line, as the crippled woman and the refugees did, our first reaction is to behave exactly as the leader of the synagogue did. “Get back in line! Obey the law!”
But if we enforce the laws without thinking about the reasons behind them, we run the risk of destroying the very things the laws were meant to protect--peace, freedom, and sanctity of person. We run the risk of condemning others to being less than God has called them to be, simply because we are afraid.
And we become, like the leader of the synagogue, a hypocrite who would condemn others for breaking a law that he himself did not keep.
For there is not a person here this morning in this sanctuary who cannot trace their presence on this continent to immigrants or refugees. Even the ancestors of the Native Canadians migrated here thousands of years ago. Human beings are not native to North America.
Each and every migrant came in search of the same thing that the refugees on board the MV Sun Sea are seeking--prosperity for themselves and their children, and freedom from oppression. We are not different from the people who came on that boat. We’ve just been here longer. It would be hypocritical of us to suggest that the Tamils go back to their own country.
An automatic appeal to the rules won’t work in this case, or in other cases where people are so desperate as to risk their lives and take a long, uncertain sea voyage rather than stay in their countries of origin. We need to look at each person as an individual in need, just as Jesus did with the crippled woman, and treat them according to that need, and not our convenience.
And we need to view the boatloads of people arriving on our shores as a wake-up call. If we have peace and freedom and prosperity here in Canada, but do nothing to aid poorer and less fortunate countries in their search for the same things, then the boats will keep coming. We can’t stop the boats by treating the migrants on the MV Sun Sea harshly or by turning them away, any more than Jesus could have stopped the line ups of desperate people needing to be healed by ignoring the crippled woman.
We can only stop the boats by making the voyage unnecessary.
Amen.
Preached at Trinity United Church, Guelph, Ontario on August 22, 2010
Let me get one thing straight before we get started here: The leader of the synagogue was right. Jesus was breaking the law of the Sabbath, and in the synagogue in the presence of the faithful, no less!
I mean, it’s really clear--one of the few laws in human history that was actually written in stone. “Six days you shall labour and do all your work. But the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work--you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns.” Exodus 20, verses 9 and 10. Number four on the top ten laws of all time list. Couldn’t be clearer, really, and here Jesus was, breaking the law, right after teaching about it!
When we read texts like the one from Luke that I just read, all too often we read into it two thousand years of Christian interpretations, not all of them good interpretations. We lose the sense of Jesus as a Jewish teacher teaching to Jews, and see him as a Christian, trying to convert the Jews, or condemn them.
But there were no Christians present that morning. Christianity as a movement was born at Easter, and Easter hadn’t happened yet. There were only Jews and more Jews, and Jesus here was very definitely breaking Jewish law.
Perhaps you’re now thinking, “Maybe this Jewish law was just a little too strict. Maybe it needed breaking.”
The problem with breaking a law is that it can be a slippery slope. When is it okay to speed? Or run a red light? Is it okay at three in the morning, when there are no other cars on the road and no one to see? How about at three in the afternoon, outside a public school? If you leave breaking the law up to people’s discretion, how can you trust that they won’t kill somebody? Instead of posting a speed limit, why not just post a sign that says, “School ahead. Use your discretion!”
Perhaps because what some people consider careful isn’t really careful enough?
It is the same with this law about work on the Sabbath. It’s actually a law that makes very good sense. A Sabbath day is not only a day to connect with God, but a day to recover from the rest of the week, to nurture family and other relationships, a day to meditate and focus on what needs to be done the coming week. It gives even slaves and animals some respite from toil.
As we read through the gospel according to Luke, we get the sense that everywhere Jesus went he was accosted by people wanting to be healed. It was non-stop. And this Sabbath morning, the synagogue seemed to be full of more people wanting to be healed. Jesus needed a day off.
And more than that, as the teacher that day, he was providing an example for every person present.
Preachers know about this. No matter whether the minister wants it or not, no matter even if the congregation realizes it or not, the minister is looked upon as someone who should be providing an example worth following. And most of us do our very best to be a good example.
And here Jesus was, breaking the law!
Of course the leader of the synagogue is going to take action and condemn him! Otherwise, the members of the congregation might go home thinking it’s okay to work on the Sabbath, and pretty soon, the synagogue will be empty because everyone is working. And there will be greater incidences of burn out. And families will fall apart because the parents won’t have time to nurture their relationships with their children and with one another. And people won’t have time to volunteer any more because they’re working.
And none of this is conjecture, either. It has happened, it is happening, because many people refuse to take a day off to commune with themselves, with God, and with each other.
That’s what the synagogue leader was worried about when he was condemning Jesus for healing on the Sabbath, and it’s hardly fair to label him as a villain just because he was upset about Jesus breaking the law.
Let’s fast forward two thousand or so. To last week, to be exact. Last week, a boat called the MV Sun Sea was escorted into port in Vancouver. On board were 492 Tamil refugees from Sri Lanka, and even before the refugees set foot on land the fur started flying.
Canada has an embassy in Sri Lanka, and Tamils in Sri Lanka can and do apply for immigrant or refugee status from their home country. There’s a process, and a line-up that can take years, and these 492 people decided to skip the line-up, get on a boat, and hope that somebody somewhere would take them in. They tried Malaysia and Australia before making the long voyage north to Vancouver.
They were well stocked, and the ship was fitted out, if not in a comfortable fashion, at least in a livable one. Women and children had separate quarters, sleeping and eating areas were separate, there was adequate food on board, and adequate sanitation. Only one person died on the voyage, and it appears that none of the refugees had TB or any other of the communicable diseases that are notorious for arriving on such ships.
This was a well-planned and financed escape, not a spur-of-the moment voyage into the unknown.
The fear is that the voyage was financed by the Tamil Tigers, a rebel group outlawed as a terrorist faction by both the Sri Lankan and Canadian governments. There is fear that even if the refugees aren’t Tamil Tigers, they’ll be forced to pay money to the Tigers in order to ensure the safety of their families in Canada and Sri Lanka. There is fear that these refugees are just the start of a mass exodus and that soon we’ll be over-run by boats from Sri Lanka. Indeed we know there are more boats following. One has already landed.
The refugees jumped the queue, and took matters into their own hands instead of following procedures that are in place to get them here. They also pose a risk to our society that some say is unacceptable.
But today, as two thousand years ago, there’s another side to the story. The law is not the be all and end all that it seems to be, and sometimes risk is necessary in order to ensure justice.
Because our laws today have as their basis the same underlying principle as the Ten Commandments. A few weeks ago, we heard the tale of the Good Samaritan. A lawyer asks Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What is written in the law?” Jesus says.
“You shall love the Lord God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.”
That isn’t a Christian interpretation of the law, by the way. It’s a paraphrase of some verses in Deuteronomy and Leviticus.
Love is the basis of the law--love for God, self, and neighbour.
And what Jesus was showing and telling the congregation that Sabbath was that NO ONE lives strictly in obedience to the letter of the law. We all understand that not only is it impossible to do so, but that if we do so in the face of the distress of our neighbours, friends and families, we are keeping the letter of the law, but violating its spirit. If your donkey is thirsty, you give him a drink, Sabbath or no Sabbath, because it’s the right thing to do.
Jesus saw a woman who had been crippled for eighteen years. It’s true, she probably could have waited another day or two, except that then she’d have to stand in line with the rest of the crowd. Being crippled, she’d probably be pushed out of the way. Maybe the disciples would have overlooked her. It’s possible she might have died waiting.
Or maybe Jesus looked at her and thought, “You’ve waited long enough and suffered enough, lady. I’m going to help you right here and now.”
And wasn’t the Sabbath a great day to set her free? Won’t she keep the Sabbath much more closely now, knowing that it’s the day that she was set free!
Jesus understood that the spirit of the law was the whole reason for the law in the first place, and that if you keep to the letter of the law but destroy the spirit, then the law is worse than useless.
And so I return to our Tamil refugees.
I admit right here and now that I have a somewhat personal stake in this. With the permission of a friend of mine, I’m going to tell you a little bit more about why we should treat those refugees with compassion and respect, and allow them to stay in Canada.
I met Darzian on an internet message board for writers that I’ve frequented for many years now. Two years ago, he posted about what life was like for him as a Tamil in Sri Lanka. Like all citizens of our modern world, he had to carry ID. Unlike Canadian ID, though, Darzian’s ID didn’t say he was Sri Lankan. It said he was Tamil.
This automatically gave the police the right to stop and question him, and detain him at whim. If detained, he could have been tortured, or held without trial or bail. Darzian wrote that typical questioning might include where you live (with further questioning if you live in the “wrong” place), where you’re going and why you’re going there, what your occupation or work is…
Can you imagine our police having such power over a segment of our population?
This is part of an “emergency rule” that has been going on for years. The government tells its critics that they only want to weed out the terrorists. To do so, they also put a larger percentage of the Tamil population in internment camps, which they say they will disband as soon as they’ve determined whether or not the residents are members of the Tamil Tigers. The camps are still in place, years after they were set up.
I’m wondering about this time if anyone here is getting a sense of déjà vu? Perhaps those of you who are old enough to remember, or who have studied history, might be hearkening back to the Second World War.
And maybe you’re thinking, “Is it really THAT bad?”
In May 2009 the Sri Lankan government launched an offensive against the Tigers, and tens of thousands of innocent Tamils were slaughtered because the Tigers were using them as human shields. Neither the Tigers nor the government seemed to care that innocent people were being slaughtered.
Yes, it is that bad.
And the situation that the refugees will return to if deported to Sri Lanka is sufficiently severe enough that we need to look beyond the letter of the law to the spirit.
Darzian writes, “I hope that these individuals are not sent back because they will have no life if they are. They will be detained at the Sri Lankan airport and then tortured in jails. I can say with a fair degree of certainty that any Tamils deported from the boat will not see the light of day again.”
I might be inclined to thing that he’s over reacting, except that both our government and the United Nations have cited the Sri Lankan government for human rights abuses, and everything he says has been substantiated as far as is possible by accredited international observers. Maybe we just ought to take the time to listen to and believe my friend.
It is not the spirit or the letter of our law that we EVER deport people, even people who have been convicted of murder, back to a place where they face almost certain torture or death. And these people have not been convicted of any crime--in fact, even those calling for their deportation admit that the majority are almost certainly real refugees and not terrorists.
Just as the woman who had been crippled for eighteen years jumped the line and was healed on the Sabbath, these refugees today are asking to be let in now, instead of being processed in order.
And Jesus answered that perhaps she had a right to do so, because she‘d waited so long. Our refugees have dealt with the same sort of problems.
Darzian’s father came to Canada four years before he and his mother and sister did. He came first, as the men on the MV Sun Sea did, to get established--to find a job and a place where the family could all live together. Then the remaining family members applied to come to Canada, sponsored by Darzian’s father. It took 1 ½ years. Given the situation in Sri Lanka, that would have been 1 ½ years of constant danger. Eventually, Darzian had to get out--being male, he was possibly subjected to greater scrutiny by the authorities. In addition, he was ready to go to university, and that’s something he couldn’t do in Sri Lanka. He obtained a student visa for Malaysia, and spent one semester there.
One Friday about a year ago, Darzian’s mother got a call telling her to present her passport, her daughter’s passport, and her son’s passport at the embassy on Monday morning. Missing that deadline would have meant months more of waiting, and Darzian was in the middle of nowhere in Malaysia.
They did it. Darzian wrapped up his life in Malaysia in less than a day, and on that Monday morning they were at the embassy with their passports.
That wasn’t quite the end of the harassment, though. Even at the airport, with passports and visas in order, they were detained and questioned.
It took over 1 ½ years even though they had a family member in Canada with a job and a home who would take responsibility for them. Imagine how long it would take, how many hurdles would have to be jumped, if he hadn’t had a father already here. The refugees on that boat are desperate. They don’t want anything particularly special--they only want the chances that we’ve been given by virtue of our residence in Canada.
The ability to leave home and walk down the sidewalk without fear of being arrested for no reason. The chance to travel on public transit without fear of the vehicle exploding. (These are Darzian’s own reflections, not mine.)
In Darzian’s case, the freedom to pursue higher education, with the goal of becoming a doctor.
I invited Darzian and his family to join us here this morning, but he wrote back that he and his family were going to be enjoying another freedom many of us take for granted.
He and his family, far from being a drain on the welfare system that some critics believe refugees to be, have worked hard, and they bought a house. In Toronto. This weekend is their moving day.
When someone jumps out of line, as the crippled woman and the refugees did, our first reaction is to behave exactly as the leader of the synagogue did. “Get back in line! Obey the law!”
But if we enforce the laws without thinking about the reasons behind them, we run the risk of destroying the very things the laws were meant to protect--peace, freedom, and sanctity of person. We run the risk of condemning others to being less than God has called them to be, simply because we are afraid.
And we become, like the leader of the synagogue, a hypocrite who would condemn others for breaking a law that he himself did not keep.
For there is not a person here this morning in this sanctuary who cannot trace their presence on this continent to immigrants or refugees. Even the ancestors of the Native Canadians migrated here thousands of years ago. Human beings are not native to North America.
Each and every migrant came in search of the same thing that the refugees on board the MV Sun Sea are seeking--prosperity for themselves and their children, and freedom from oppression. We are not different from the people who came on that boat. We’ve just been here longer. It would be hypocritical of us to suggest that the Tamils go back to their own country.
An automatic appeal to the rules won’t work in this case, or in other cases where people are so desperate as to risk their lives and take a long, uncertain sea voyage rather than stay in their countries of origin. We need to look at each person as an individual in need, just as Jesus did with the crippled woman, and treat them according to that need, and not our convenience.
And we need to view the boatloads of people arriving on our shores as a wake-up call. If we have peace and freedom and prosperity here in Canada, but do nothing to aid poorer and less fortunate countries in their search for the same things, then the boats will keep coming. We can’t stop the boats by treating the migrants on the MV Sun Sea harshly or by turning them away, any more than Jesus could have stopped the line ups of desperate people needing to be healed by ignoring the crippled woman.
We can only stop the boats by making the voyage unnecessary.
Amen.
Preached at Trinity United Church, Guelph, Ontario on August 22, 2010
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