Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Wednesday Morning Meditation

I woke up with my dog licking my face. He lies watching me until he thinks I’m awake and then helps the process. I dressed and walked him outside this balmy spring morning.  Pink dawn colours were still painting the clouds.  Bird song had begun.  He pooped. I picked it up.  I carry a roll of doggie bags in pockets of my jackets. Back home I sat for morning meditation and prayers.  I feel closer at time to God and then far away, the constant hide and seek of the great romance.  Attending to my breathing, bring my attention back from the myriad of distractions.  Feeling for God, like reaching out in darkness for a pair of glasses. Knowing it’s the journey and the doing, not the arriving.  Then coffee.  

I opened my iPhone and reviewed my Facebook.  Too much politics.  Clear evidence of mutual hysteria.  The people who like me thought the world would end with the election of Justin Trudeau in Canada are decidedly wrong.  Canada is a much poorer place.  But despite his best efforts Canada as a country has survived.  Similar in America there were riots of the violent angry outraged and terrified when President Trump took office. Yet here we are some time later and the world has not ended.  Yet the same level of lucrative shrill political marketing fills the airways.  

It’s spring. A new day is dawning. I’m weary of Facebook and social media.  The humour is less and the family is less and more a more the feed is filled with uninvited commercials for businesses I have no interests in and ideologies that frankly bore me.  I flip through dozens of feeds now in search of an increasingly rare sharing of family or astute humour of friends. it’s disappointing. Too much of this and I forget the pink colour on the morning clouds.  

I am going to work today.  I commute and daily see the evidence of poor driving and random chaos.  We lemming to the city where no one who works can afford to live as the urban madness and tyranny increases with incompetence and dependence.  All the government serves the parking lots. Landlords are the deities.  And I am just one of the millions of acolytes who worship there.  Regulations and restrictions exponentially increase to protect the turfs of entrenched corruption and I will leave this place where trees grow free to go to that cement prison where the inmates pay their lives away to be on the inside.  I worry about my dwindling time.  

The ugliness of bureaucracy and callous minions of corporate and government hegemony obstruct my vision and strangle all but a few new ideas.  The old prevails re worked over and over again. I don’t know if this is right or wrong.  

I have a general malaise. I have tasted the nectar of God’s love and wonder as I move through my day how this is bringing me once again closer. I know if I sit still it will circle round me but I miss the wide open seas or the deep dark forests.  Each day I think of camping and canoeing and wait for the weather to warm  as arts students reduce the science of weather to politics.  Everywhere it’s I and them, the tribalism of todays colleges and universities speaking to the rise of stupidity among the teachers terrified of students whose ignorance is increased by their drugs and delusions.

I wait for death.  My family has gone before me, mother, father, brother, aunts and uncles.  I know them as memories and guardian angels. I feel them close at times. I dream of them.  

Life is good.  I liked the coffee and yoghurt today. I’m looking forward to driving with the top down on my convertible. It’s a short week. If the sun stays out I may lie outside on a lawn chair and read a book with Gilbert tied to the leg of the chair.  My motorcycle is calling to me.  Showering and shaving and dressing is a challenge.  All day I see people who don’t work and ask them if they can at least get up and out of their apartments before 9 and know they can’t. The city is full of foreign wealth and social housing.  I have to accept that I’m a suburbanite. No longer living in the insanity of the city I am losing tolerance for the mass institution of ghetto living.  My eyes look out to the towns and rural spaces where the new genius arises.  I am caught between.  I am ever straddling fences.  I long to head out on the highway. I am instead going to a little box and frankly I like it most of the time.  The idea of it is scary. The warren. 

But here the sun is coming in the window and shining now on the cactus I hung in a pot there.  I live in a rain forest and long for Arizona.  But I like the surplus water too and am forever ambivalent.

I’m grateful for my breath. I’m grateful for the sights and sounds. I’m grateful for my dog and the vehicles that entertain me as I fool myself out of the house and into the work place. I’m grateful for coffee which lures me from one place to the next. I liked the hamburger I ate at the Heatley yesterday. Shannon’s smile as she served me coffee was uplifting. I liked the chef with his 18th century beard.  This generation of castrated male Canadians act out their loss by manly beards while women every where abort their babies. 

There’s always chocolate. And tv.  One can get lost in NCIS.  An alternative reality where the man leads in the field while the woman leads in the politics or the black man leads in the politics.  These higher paid jobs are mysterious in their way while the sherif rides off to slay the dragons and get the bad guy and protect the navy. it’s silly really.  But there’s a pattern to it like all westerns and we want the good guy to win and the bad guy to lose because we go to work and there seems so much more uncertain.

But the Bible says the good guys win.  Lust is good but love is better.  Smart is good but wisdom is better. And all day long I look at materialism and hedonism and talk to addicts who just want money and a fix but have come out of the pleasure chase to be cared for by me , not willing to give up but wanting a breather before they again chaise the elusive ‘pleasure principle’.  They’re all Marxists and socialists and the government celebrates their existence and tries to give them more stuff like negligent parents. They don’t know it but they really want love but won’t go to the places where people will gather and give them relationships.  But they’ve bought hollywood and want something for nothing. And it’s easier to steal and I struggle to remain positive in the daily grind of their sales pitch.  And behind me their are fat rich eurocrats wanting to punish me for imperfection but desperate to keep me between them and them, this buffer against the rise of grief and anxiety.  They are the control freaks. They left the chaos of reality and escaped to the constant committee classroom meetings with countless little napoleons and proper servitude. There are no Gibbs in this world.  The Gibbs are strangled and shot in the back.  These people have killed to escape reality and now pass razor sharp memos and build more and more walls all the while denying they like walls with their boundaries and police and their guns in the security forces.  Layers and layers of security to protect them.  

I am terrified of lying women.

I am going out to face another day where sometimes the shouting scares me.

There is a sensitivity that you can only have like a second wind on the front.  Soldiers who returned again and again told me of this.  I like the others like me who have seen thousands and stayed face to face.  Now I must shower. I like the shower.  Shaving is less attractive but I’ve had my share of beards and today like the soft baby face.  

I am saddened that my friend has a sore throat.  

My dog’s eye is hurt. There is illness in the world and dying.  I am here praying.  I’d ride my motorcycle to work but the dog doesn’t care so much for that.  And I don’t like the rain and grease on the road this year and am more scared of injury as less and less funding goes to the hospital front lines and more and more to the smoke filled backrooms

Thank you God for this day.  Lift up my spirit and guide me in all my actions and words. Please Lord let me not offend another person who is looking for offence and please save me from those who are seeking accidents on the road. Help protect me from this whole new rash of victim predators.  Guide me and keep me safe that I might do your work and serve you.  Thank you for all the blessings you have bestowed on me. 

 

Monday, April 17, 2017

Bloom Festival in Abbotsford with the God Kids

Easter Weekend is always special with the activities of Holy Week, NSRU, and a long weekend away from increasingly treacherous work.  Laura and I loved the inspirational speaker at the NSRU Pan Pacific Friday night. So many of the people we know on Facebook but rarely see were there. It's an old home week shaking hands, hugging smiling, catching up. I especially loved seeing Bill and Archie from Whitecliff and Vivian and her son Steven.  So many friendly smiling faces.  The countdown is always inspiring.  

Then Saturday we didn’t make it out during the day. We’d had all manner of plans but read books instead.  I walked Gilbert. Laura made meals.  We  lounged  till early Saturday evening. The rain letting up, we then drove to the Pan Pacific with the Miata top down. Another great inspirational speaker and more friends. 

Sunday morning we got ready early for Easter mass enjoying the celebration of Risen Christ at Christ Church Cathedral.  

After we made arrangements with Kevin and Anna to drive out to the Bloom Festival in Abbotsford. They’d been staying at the Pan Pacific so had to pick up their children after their weekend ‘date’.  Gilbert and I headed back to Burnaby in the Miata leaving Laura to catch up in her little red Smart Car.  The plan was to transfer to my new white Ford F350 2017 Lariat truck.  I love my truck.  It was a great ride out to the country listening to my iPhone music played through the Ford Sync 3 system with the sun roof open.  Great views of Mount Baker. Sunshine and blue sky.  Synchronistically with divine timing we hooked up with Anna and Kevin and the kids on the highway..  

Parking at the Bloom, the late winter had delayed the tulips.  The daffodils were out but instead of fields and fields of spectacular coloured tulips there were only a few patches. But walking with dog and the kids was it’s own entertainment.  We doubt they missed the tulips since the mud was so much more interesting.  

After we enjoyed an early  dinner at the Abbotsford Cactus Club.  While the adults had peppercorn steaks the kids had little hamburgers and fries.  Service was great. Finishing before the adults the children began to explore the restaurant with their parents retrieving squirmy bodies between the discussions of Dean Peter’s sermon and the inspirational speakers.  Kendra was definitely in Christopher Columbus mode.  Somehow we didn’t lose any children.

Walking about the Bloom, Alex had decided that day that he wanted to hold my hand while Kendra informed Laura that she wanted to be carried.  They really are the best family.   Anna, the consumate mother had  delightful tete a tete's with Laura, a grandmother several times over with another grand child due any day.  

I admired Kevin’s calm.  He shared that the Buddha had left his family to seek enlightenment. I shared that Paramahansa Yoganada’s said that one could meditate on a mountain but the real trick was  to bring the mountain into one’s heart and meditate in the world.  Kevin had very much enjoyed Dean Peter’s sermon quotes from Thomas Merton and St. Francis.  

Gilbert who’d had to wait in the truck was barkingly delighted to be re united with his little hairless buddies. He didn’t mind the bits of steak I’d brought back wrapped in napkin in my jacket pocket. It took him no time to find that.  We all hugged good byes and headed back to Vancouver our separate ways.    

Christ Church Cathedral Easter Sunday 2017

Christ Church Cathedral began in  1888 and was built in 1895. The Regimental Church of the Seaforth Highlandder’s, it is  the church the Royal Family comes to when they visit Vancouver.  I became a member nearly 20 years ago and attended “religiously’ for a dozen of those years when I even served as a Reader in the Church. .  Christened and raised Baptist and later a member of the United Church  I was baptized Anglican at Christ Church Cathedral by Dean Peter Elliott and Bishop Michael Ingham.  I felt God’s presence that day in a very special way.  Always Christ Church, it's leader, and members are close to my heart. When Gilbert, my cockapoo,  joined my life I attended St. James Anglican Church where Father Mark on meeting us told me Gilbert was definitely welcome but he’d have to think about me. Gilbert thereafter attended services with Father Mark’s big friendly dog,  Bear . 

Christ Church is a truly beautiful Gothic building with the most inspiring stain glass, the crucifixion and the risen Christ prominent.  Since Dean Elliott’s arrival there have been marvellous building projects which have made the church one of the grandest in Canada.  The new organ,  high in the back of the church is not only heavenly sounding but visually stunning as well.  Rupert Lang, organist and  musical director has lead the cathedral choir of Christ Church to countless musical awards .  Now there is a new bell tower and the bells add to the divine ambience that pervades this house of God. Easter, a Touch of Brass, joins the  triumphant music of the day. 

Bishop Melissa presided.  She is a loved Bishop whose discernment is much remarked upon.  I’d brought Kevin and Anna our friends and parents of the God children.  We’d all been at the NSRU which had till last year taken place on the Easter weekend across Burrard at the Hyatt. The conference had moved to the Pan Pacific this year because the attendance overflowed the Hyatt capacity.  Kevin and Anna having stayed at the Pan Pacific walked up the few blocks to the church this sunny Easter morning.   My friend, Dr. George arrived shortly after with his beautiful teacher friend,  Jane. Shortly after that a very strong man in black suit with distinctive ear piece sat in front of us.  Obviously not there for my protection we later saw  that our greatly admired Premier Christy Clark was there with her now very tall son.  

Dean Peter Elliott with his usual brilliance gave a poignant sermon reminiscing about the 2 sided vinyl music  with both tracks, distinctively different tunes  of the old 45., played by the same artist.  He likened this to the inseparable nature of the Crucifixion and Resurrection, of the Old and New Testament, the message of God in Nature and God in Scripture. So typical of Peter’s sermons we’d find ourselves discussing them later over meals. Sometimes their import and meaning would resonate long after, their message of diversity and unity, the three in one spirituality of Christian meditation inspiring and uplifting.  

The Peace, and Prayers and Communion all followed before the Cathedral was  filled with the majesty of hundreds of voices singing the perennial favourite, 1708 Christian hymn "Jesus Christ is Risen Today. "

Outside on Burrard Street, we joined Dr. George and Jane introducing Kevin and Anna, everyone in high spirits, the sun shining, with much laughter and joy shared, before we departed to enjoy the rest of this glorious Easter Sunday.  

Thursday, April 13, 2017

Maundy Thursday - Holy Week 2017

Maundy means the ‘washing of feet”.  Thursday was the day of the Last Supper.  Jesus washed the feet of his disciples then. “a servant is not greater than his master; nor is he who is sent greater than he who sent him” Jesus said.   This gave rise to the description of Jesus as the “Servant King’.  Humility is to be admired and not seen as a sign of weakness as it is by the cowardly braggart. The first should be last and the last should be first.  Suffer little children to come under to me. You must be like children to enter the Kingdom of heaven. All of what Jesus stood for was that it’s in the little and the great that God is found.  It was thought before that the Great were the venue to God.  The peasant did not know God but through the King or High Priest.  Now Jesus, son of God, son of man, said differently.  

I’m heavy with age and work and threats and betrayal.  I’m asking you God, I’m asking you Jesus, restore my childlike enthusiasm.  Give me the desire to carry on.  I see you as the one who told the truth.  At the Last Supper Jesus said that Judas would betray him.  It’s been said even God couldn’t pick 12 men who would not betray him.  I look at politics and I see the deceit and lies and betrayal. In my own life I meet everyone these days in fear that they will lie and attack me for their profit.  Judas betrayed God for 30 pieces of silver. But some say that Judas was the truest for he triggered humanity’s salvation.  These events unfolded later but at the supper Jesus spoke of the betrayal.  

The greatest harm comes from betrayal because betrayal is always the work of a friend, a loved one.  

It is the sense of betrayal we feel in terms of the institutions that we serve, the sense of betrayal of our government representatives.  But that is through the whole of the Jesus story.  it’s the leaders of society that blinded by their wealth and privilege kill God.  

Even today it is the government that promotes and protects abortion.  It’s is the government that now that favours suicide.  It’s the government that profits from tobacco and alcohol and would add cannibis to it’s source of income for increasingly nefarious hedonistic means.  

Jesus.  You a carpenter, teacher, healer. You lived under the local authority of Herod the Jew and under the representative of Rome's Pilate born during the reign of Caesar Octavian.  You taught the Kingdom of God and Love.  Christianity is the religion of Love.  Agape and Filios and yes even eros.  

I am crying for you daily. I see you in the beauty of nature, in moments with others, in the relationships we share, in the love of my dog even.  Everywhere the Holy Spirit comes. I pray, Holy Spirit Come. You are here now. The Resurrected Christ.  

I wash your feet and you wash mine.  You wash my feet and I wash your.

At the last supper you say that the bread is your body and the wine is your blood and we share in the celebration of eating and drinking God for God is all but this is you in death and life and resurrection. This is a reminder of the Last Supper.  In the days of Passover.  

Thank you Jesus.  

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Harley Davidsons, Motorboats, God Kids and More Holy Week 2017

I’ve found pictures from the weekend.  It was a busy time with getting the insurance set up for the Harley and the Miata from Thaun Vo at Rand and Fowler.  Laura and I got up on Saturday morning to drive down to Trev Deely in my new Ford F350 Lariat truck.  It was a sunny day and everyone but me seemed to have got their motorcycles out on the road.  I was considering a lighter bike because of the weakness in my arm and my feeling the big bike was less maneuverable in the city.  Vancouver is the city of the worst drivers in the world,  Erratic.  A biker’s nightmare.  So I’d thought maybe I’d go back to a Sporster.  Thaun had told me he was going to be there at noon.  Gilbert loves truck rides, Laura and Trev Deeley.  

I talked to Stuart. He’s the go to guy on buying bikes at Trev Deely. I told him what I was thinking and he thought maybe the Heritage Softail. That’s the bike Dave has.  It feels so good.  I love that Trev Deely lets you sit on the bikes.  Even take selfies.  The main thing was when I sat on the 1200 Sportsters they just seemed too small.  Now Dave had suggested I reduce the luggage on my Electroglide.  

So back at the trailer park that’s what I did.  I took off the top bag and got rid of some of the heavy tools I keep in the side bags for touring.  Then I cleaned up the bike.  Wow!  My Electroglide was the best bike for the ride to Sturges from here, thousands of free way driving and the trip up to Merrit for Sturges North.  I love that bike. And without the luggage it was light.  Thank you Dave.  I rode out on the highway with the Doobie Brothers playing. It was heaven.

So what’s this got to do with Holy Week.  This was just God’s Grace. I don’t deserve a peach of a day like that. I didn’t earn the ‘high’ I had riding out on the highway. It just happened. I have been on my bike not enjoying it.  I have been in my head and I’ve missed out on the joy.  But this day with the sunshine and the beginning of Holy week it wasn’t quite like being Jesus riding into Jerusalem triumphant on a donkey but it was riding a Harley.

There’s a song “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”  The key there is that we think of ourselves in cartoons and stories and myths as the central actor or the heroin or hero.  We feel sorry for Jesus on the cross because we identify with Jesus.  But we don’t identify with Judas or Peter or Herod or all the Roman Soldiers or the thief or Pilate or the Sanhedrin or the wailing women.  But Carl Jung in his dream analysis says that we’re all the people in the dream. And as there is but one God and we are all parts of that one same God when Jesus was crucified we as human sinners were more likely than not , not Jesus. We’re becoming like Jesus but at that moment I was probably betting on his robe or sticking a spear in his side.  

In the afternoon we drove out to Tom’s in Slesse Park meeting up with Kevin and Anna to pick up my boat that Tom had been stowing. Tom and I had last used it to ride across Harrison Lake to the north shore where we’d hunted.  I’d hoped to get out duck hunting so it had stayed at Toms’ but the office disruption meant no weekend free for hunting ducks and geese.  Meanwhile Kevin and Anna love to go fishing with the kids but didn’t have a boat to do that and Kevin had a place to store the boat at his workplace where they keep all their machinery. I’d just like to see it being used. This summer Kevin and Anna are going back east and for the price of gas will likely drop the boat off at Hay Bay

Running late for our 1030 am Anglican church we ended up at the 1115 Cariboo Community Church service.  Anna and Kevin and the God kids were there.  They had communion on trays and Laura, catholic to the core, took a tiny cup, drank the blood of Jesus, put the cup back and crossed herself.  She didn’t know about the baptist and pentecostal bit of waiting till we all took communion together.  She was smiling. I’d gulped down Jesus myself so unlike the marshmallow test the server gave me more.  Meanwhile little munchkins were crawling along the chairs and floors.

After we had lunch at White Spot.  Lots of fun talking with Kevin about Lazarus and Jesus.  The beauty of the church is a share lexicon. We also talk about Stepping Stones. But it’s not like we work together so we don’t talk work or sports much.  We do talk Jesus and sobriety. And a little politics.  Nobody I know is looking forward to everyone sounding stoned like our Prime Minister does.   But Justin Trudeau’s legacy will be to increase the number of people who aren’t present in this life.  I certainly missed a few years of my life being unfocussed and wandering brained.  Wine and marijana days.  

Then there’s Syria and North Korea.  I think the Laura and Anna were talking recipes.  Laura’s got a new granddaughter on the way and she’s been waxing poetic about the years raising her son and daughter and talking about children a whole lot.  Being around the little rug rats gets that going.  Gilbert was back at the trailer and missed being with his buddies but sure loved being out at Tom’s with the kids and Tom and his girlfriend Panda.

Holy Week Tuesday.  I’ve got to get to work.  Jesus is in my thoughts. Along with Harley’s, Laura’s granddaughter, Gilbert and boats and such.  We’re kind of muddling along.  It’s a sunny day.  I’ll have the top down on the Miata as driving to work. Jesus would like that. Gilbert sure does. 

Monday, April 10, 2017

Holy Week 2017

I attended Palm Sunday Service at Cariboo Community Church with Laura, Kevin, Anna and the God Kids.  They were a thorough entertainment. They walk on chairs and crawl on the floors just like Gilbert does.  And the aisles of the church, wide open freeways for fast running children’s feet.  Anna took them out during the sermon.  A serious affair about Passover,  Jews being saved from judgement because of their personal relationship with God and their obedience to God. Sabbath and the Last Supper.  Purification with Hyssop.  Hyssop figures in the psalm of recovery 51.  Hyssop is on the vinegar given to Jesus as he dies on the cross.

Now this is Holy Week.  Palm Sunday was the celebration of Jesus entering triumphant into Jerusalem riding a donkey. I’ve forever loved the donkey.  Perhaps because it figured in the first childhood Sunday School stories.  

We’d go to church with my parents and go downstairs during the service to have a class room of Christian teaching with colouring books of Christian stories.  Later we’d rejoin the parents after the sermon.  Not long away with strangers. I remember well the Sunday School at Trinity Baptist, Fort Rouge, Winnipeg. Later I’d teach Sunday School for a couple of years at Fort Garry United.  Looking back I realize I’ve been of service. I’ve participated.  There’s still too much time watching tv.  Not enough of it watching the Ben Hur’s of today.  Uplifting inspiring tales of Biblical proportion but spins off instead like Star Wars and Star Trek.  I loved studying Joseph Campbell and the role of myth in society.

As a psychiatrist we say if you don’t agree to a collective insanity then you’re doomed to having a personal one.  My favourite collective insanity is the legal agreements we all sign ‘in faith’ with computer companies where on the next to final page we have agreed to give our soul and our kidneys to Microsoft or Apple.

WWIII is heating up.  A competing channel.  I don’t think anything will come of it.  Russia, Syria, Jordan, Iran, Israel and the US all raising the stakes on this Easter week.  Meanwhile the American navy is steaming towards North Korea when the kid, another one, like our own Pretty Boy Prime Minister Trudeau, has blasted off midrange missiles. Sarin in the Middle East and Tomohawk Missiles and the threat of nuclear missiles in the east.  

Jesus, we say was son of God. In the Hindu tradition a man evolves from slug to God. But in this Christian twist on an old story, God descends into Man then resurrects.  The Sufis, despite their Muslim warlord masters believe in the revolutions of the spiritual.  The Christian Jacobs Ladder mysticism is the rising and falling.  The descent and resurrection.  It’s a feeling thing to a mystic.  Meanwhile the Kundalini is another bi-directional thing.  Our minister today at Cariboo Community Church talked of the blood.  

Blood is the circular pumping flow.  The greath is in and out but the blood goes round and round.  It’s all movement. Our minds are the only part that’s stuck.

And Jesus was ever obedient to the prophecy and to the call.

He didn’t have to return to Jerusalem. It’s like New York and the girl from Kentucky.  She didn’t have to go to New York or LA even. If you stay at home you’re safe.  Avoid the big city.  Jesus was from Galilee. He could have stayed safe there but the real egos of the world are always in the government towns.  For us in Canada it’s Ottawa. Her in BC it’s Victoria. For Americans its Washington. For Russians Moscow.  If Jesus was in France today he’d have to go to Paris to be crucified. In China he’d be crucified in Bei Jing.  The Ego of the dictators, republicans, kings and queens and committee leaders and czars and prime ministers demand that Jesus be upstage.

Every day in my moment to moment life there’s God’s will and my will. I say ‘Thy Will Be Done’.  I want to do the right thing but mostly I avoid pain.  Jesus could have avoided pain. He asked that this cup be taken from him.  But he was betrayed and the Government of the day Crucified him.  

To the Christian this world isn’t the big deal it is to the Herod’s of the day and the beheaders of today and yesterday.  Herod wanted to sleep with his daughter so beheaded John the Baptist on a whim.  Beheading wasn’t just an ISIS or French thing. It’s biblical.  So much is. But the education today doesn’t teach history and kids are easily impressed by the plagiarism of television.  All the old myths and stories of Biblical proportion made into cartoons for wealth and profit.

Not that wealth and profit aren’t a concern. The disciples of Jesus carried Swords. Swords don’t come cheap. I was looking at Glocks and a good one puts you back a thousand.  All the men and women around the presidents and prime ministers and Kings of Saudi and Syria are carrying a thousand dollars of hard ware on their hips or under their arm pits.

Jesus said “My Kingdom is not of this world”.  

Way before physicists rediscovered alternative worlds Jesus was speaking of heaven.  Position is important. Heaven is in here not out there.  The Yogi sings “I am the bubble make me the sea”.  My perception to the psychologist today is like the tip of an iceberg. So much more goes on within.  All the linear journeys of the Bible , from Egypt to the promised land, from Eden to outside Eden, from Bethlehem to Jerusalem are metaphorical.  They’re true just was the Temple of the Jews in Jerusulam is historic and true.  

Alpha is a series of dinners and discussions which goes on in church for anyone who wishes to become a Christian or learn what Christians believe.  There’s the various Creeds and Third Day sings the Creed best of them all but practically it’s just an old fashioned Community Hall.  The Cariboo Community Church had that pentecostal feel. The Hillsong movie catches that Spirit filled grace of the pentecostals. Lots of song and celebration with education in sermons.  Everyone is welcome.

We all says ‘Come to the Table.   Father Matthew at my church helps the homeless old men and then goes to the opera with his lovely wife.  He’s in the guts and gore of creation uplifted by the word of God and music of the ages.  He says, “just think of it as your mothers dinner.”  Mom was always glad to have her kids come for dinner.  

The Prodigal Son, one of my all time favourite Biblical stories, and the masterpiece of painting in the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg is about a father inviting his son home after his son has been eating with pigs.  They killed the fatted calf in celebration.

The Last Supper of the Holy Week is Jesus’s gathering with his closest.  It’s the basis of communion.  We celebrate the breaking of bread and the drinking of wine.  The bread is the body and the wine is the blood. It’s a sacrificial symbolic cannibalistic rite. Robert Graves in Golden Bough followed the myth of the sacrifice of the king for the tribe throughout history.

Jesus, the pure, is the sacrifice of man.  

It makes the world go round.

The sun comes up.

We get to live on.

The Pharisees,cynical and arrogant get to judge. The Sanhedrin pompous and vacuous with fear as Sanhedrins always are releases the real rebel because the rebels of the world are nothing compared to the saints.  The saints had a bad lot, killed off by Nero and finally that entertainment stopped only by Constantine because Christians were the only ones truthful in the days of pagans.  

We are slouching towards Bethlehem.

We are nearer Jerusalem. 

There’s death and laughter.  This is just a dream like every day and every night and we awake and it’s all been a play.  We may go again or that may be it.  And for some who want nothing of immortality they might well get the peace of eternity.  But I’m in for the journey.

I’m following Jesus.  A follower of Jesus believes in God and heaven and doing unto others as you would have them do unto you.  These were once Canadian values.  Kellie Leitch is trying to get agreement on what is Canadian because Justin Trudeau hating Christians and Catholics and English and most things Canadians has started another Muslim jihad with his encouragement of Bill M-103.  Islamaphobia is to be outlawed by the Christophobe Justin Trudeau.

What will President Trump do.  I don’t think WWIII but maybe it’s about ratings.  As we’re gathering for the ascension of Jesus we may be all taken back to the passover.  I expect buying Hyssop would be in order.  I will trust in the blood of the lamb rather than going around to butcher shops looking for lamb.  Hyssop will have to do.  

Jesus Christ means literally “God within, god will come again.”  So all my life I’ve played hide and seek with God.  They dark times have only been when I was hiding and forgot I was hiding and thought the game was over and no one had come to find me.  All I had to do then was come out and play.  Just like I come when Mamma calls for supper.  Turning and twisting and circling and rising on eagles wings.  

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Saturday Morning, Rainfall on the Roof.

Lovely morning so far.  No early morning wakening.  Woke up beside Laura. Lovely lady.  Gilbert immediately got into between us when I rolled over to kiss the wonderfulness lying next to me.

“”I’m the only wonderful of wonderful” said the squirming dog. “As he planted dog kisses all over our faces.’   So much for kissing Laura. 

I got out of bed. When next I looked in on the beauty and the beast he was ‘helping’ her make the bed. The bed had not had this treatment since last she was here and frowned reprovingly at me.  “this is how a bed should be treated” said the bed. “Whatever, “ I replied.

I’d got the stove top expresso machine working with the Fair Trade ground roast ready to do it’s magic.  Meanwhile I opened the back bacon from Choices and laid it out on the new grey and white dishes.  “I like these, “ she said when I served up  Me and Ed’s pizza on them last night .

" $69 4 piece place setting from Canadian Tire.” I said.  They replaced the chipped and stained white set I’d got from there nearly a decade back. 

We’d watched a combination of Start Trek with Captain Picard and NCIS Los Angeles with Heddy., one on regular tv alternating with Apple TV. The night ended on the Pinkertons with those great Canadian actors Martha MacIsaac and  Jacob Blair.

“I’ve been working so hard with all these clinics and everyone so demanding and not enough time and commuting on the bus, I just get home and collapse at night, eat, sleep work, “ she said. “I’m not young anymore, all I want to do is this on Friday day.”  

“I’m the same I said. I can’t think by Friday.  It’s like my brains exhausted . I’ve been working evenings and weekends for months with closing the office and moving to other clinics.  And the winter has gone on too long. Oh And by the way, I don’t think you look old. I think you look young and beautiful.  Gilbert and I just love your company.  You really make our Friday evening hundreds of times better.  Gilbert loves you. "

“Ah thanks” she said, pretty in pink

It was raining cats and dogs but the neighbour had come by to tell me there were 90 mile an hour winds forecast for the night. I took in my awning. I’d been running my Harley Electrogilide which revved right up after having the battery tender on it over night.  

I called Thaun Vo at Rand and Fowler. He’s this incredibly responsible helpful insurance fellow whose taken care of keeping track of my vehicle insurance.  When Laura gets out of the bath we’re off to Trev Deely. Thon texted me this morning he’s going to be there around noon doing insurance for another motorcyclist. Laura and I figured it was a good excuse for an outing and a chance to look at the new bikes.

Below follows at typical consumer age mind loop. In this case it applies to motorcycles but it can apply to anything, towels, wallets, bed spreads, homes ….I believe others do this, an attempt to get just the right thing for a particular time and by the time you get it paid off life has moved on and what was perfect is not not just quite right so in the ‘change’ generation we trade in or throw away and everything is in flux with behaviour coupled to consumer reports and internet news and manufacturer goals.  It’s burdensome and I think at times of returning to the bicycle days but my colleague’s bicycle is $20,000 and mine is a few hundred dollars. I fear if I tried to ‘size down’ rather than ‘super size’ I’d still be dissatisfied so ‘acceptance’ and ‘appreciating what one has’ is the answer.   Today’s consumerism leads to ‘disposable people’ and ‘disposable relationships’ which are the norm in this culture.  

(I’ve got this idea that I’d like to trade down my big Harley Davidson Electroglyde for the new Touring 1200 in the sportier class. I love my 1600 Electroglide on the highway. It really is the bike for the American Freeway. The  40 thousand mile ride to Sturges on the Electroglide was incredible.  Laura is not as keen on riding passenger on a motorcycle. She really does prefer the new Ford F350 lariat edition truck as does Gilbert.  I don’t think I’ll be riding to Sturges again.  Indeed it i go again and I’d love to I’ld like to bring the bike in the back of my Energy Toyhauler pulled by the truck. When I was at my brother’s at Haybay in Nappanee I really enjoyed the Yamaha 250 simply for lightness and maneuverability. I loved my Honda CRF 250’s in the day too because they’re just so maneuverable.  Great for the city but also weekends. My 600 cc Buell Blast was another fantastic bike for city and good for country roads on the weekend. The Harley Davidson 1200 cc Roadster was my favourite bike till the Electroglide. I really got the Electroglide for Laura and Gilbert and I.  Either Laura and I or Gilbert and I had enjoyed the 1200 cc Roadster.  It really was a great country and city bike and half the weight of my Electroglide which I really do love.  It took me a year  or two before I traded in my  last truck this truck because of all these kinds of considerations and discussions .  Dave suggested I really could lighten up the Electroglyde by stripping off some of the cruising extras.  So that’s an idea. That’s what ‘chopper’s are and I really love the 1600 cc engine.  My right shoulder isn’t strong like it was with the neck issue. Richard Cho my motorcycling chiropractor friend solves the weakness in the arm and shoulder every time I see him but I just don’t get in enough to deal with it.  Meanwhile Derek Baker who was my personal trainer gave me exercises which would strengthen me but instead I think of getting a lighter bike. I could just swim more and be satisfied with what I’ve got.

“Don’t you love the towel hanger”  I called out to Laura when she was went into the bathroom. Gilbert had followed her in like a personal body guard checking it out for invading weiner dogs or aliens.  Now he was lying in front of the door guarding it for her.

“Yes, it’s lovely”.  For a couple of  years I’d had this towel rack  I’d installed that periodically came lose and fell down. It really was a nuisance. I’d found an old fashioned one with simple screws and wood and now was sure it wouldn’t come loose.  No more towel hanger crashes when you were naked getting in or out of the shower.  

Syria has had another chemical gas attack.

Vimy Ridge, in the time of chemical warfare, was having it’s 100 year celebration of the Canadians turning the tide for the British Empire.  War.

President Trump just sent 59 Tomohawk Cruise Missiles into Syria to destroy Assad’s MIGS and the warehouses where apparently chemical gas was stored. It’s possible the Rebels staged the gas attack or that the CIA and former KGB did it. It’s even possible that CNN noting decreased ratings blew up a chemical bomb in Syria to get more television watchers.  For all we know Mila Cyress and the Kardashians blew up the gas as a test for a new reality tv show.  No one knows anything except George Carlin and Leonard Cohen and they’re dead.

It’s all above my pay grade.  

I’m amused at the certainty people have and how hard they cling to illusions like Climate Change and the new comfort words like ‘diversity’ and ‘multicultural’.  Meanwhile everyone who counts knows multicultural means ‘uncultured’.  But it’s all just intellectualism and Justin Trudeau sounds silly in both French and English.  His jargon filled babble makes one think of the days when the Catholic Church ruled and everyone who mattered talked in Latin. Now  hypocrisy is all we get with the increased transparency is lies and psychobabble weaponized words like Islamaphobia..  Feminists fight for Sharia Law in Canada as Freedom of Speech is destroyed by the M 103 motion of Islamaphobia.  Now Canadians  who say Allah is a fiction can be castigated and eventually imprisoned or beheaded.  Ironic that a once secular nation now under Justin Trudeau fights to allow Muslims to pray in the school whereas his father Pierre Trudeau celebrated the abortion of Christians and Catholics with that greatest Canadian “Mad Man Murferer Mortgentaller.  Because he as a jew killed off all the Christian children now Canada adopts Muslims who want to kill all the Jews.   It’s a weird world.  Putin just acknowledged Jerusalem as the capital of Israel while the UN said that Jews were not in Israel before the 1940. The UN noted for its lies about Climate Change also considers the Bible to be a lie.  It’s hard to believe such nutbars or science or history given the UN”s records to date.  

I understand old people who watch the news eventually wanting to die.  My father said as did his war buddies, “If we’d known this is what Canada was to become, none of us would have fought in the war.”  The old are sad. Everyone I know who is not wealthy and privileged uber upper class like the Trudeau’s worry about growing old with decreasing health care and no housing except barracks for the old. .

I’ve just had to pay for hearing aids.  A life time of paying taxes for Medical Care and Health Care and when it comes to my falling asleep at work and being diagnosed with Sleep Apnea I had to pay thousands out of pocket or die young of stroke and heart disease for my CPAP machine. . Now unable to hear my patients at work  I find out I have to pay thousands  again for hearing aids. I just got back from the dentist where thousands of dollars pays for my dental care and the pain is relieved but if I’d wanted I could have skipped the dentist and got Inside heroin treatment.  There are diseases of privilege and I don’t have those ones.  Yet to hear Justin Trudeau who gives billions to beurocrats and terrorist organizations we’re supposed to be always thankful. The taxpayers are probably paying for his Rogaine and implants.  

 

And yes, spiritually I’m struggling because I truly believe that God is good. This world is God’s world.  The Lord is in charge. Jesus died and the Cosmic Christ changed the world to one in which we as Christians know heaven. I can know heaven on earth if I simply accept Jesus.  Accepting Jesus means that I forgive Justin Trudeau. I also consider that Justin Trudeau’s stupidity is what makes me turn more to the Lord. There is no peace on earth with Justin Trudeau as ruler. He’s inciting war and marxist class struggle and all of that. But this is Gods’ world and I have to trust in God. God made Justin Trudeau.  Just the same way God made the snake in the Garden of Eden. There is no duality.  All comes from God and I have to love all as God loves all.

So my very spiritual development depends on my loving Justin Trudeau.  This concerns me.  it’s where the rubber hits the road.  Thank you God for Justin Trudeau.  Thank you God for CBC news. The lies and disinformation of CBC news makes the demonic look saintly.  But thank you Lord because the problem as I know is within, it’s in my thinking and focus so help me Lord see as you see with love and forgivements. Help me focus on the good .  

St. Francis Grant me Serentity!

 

"

Sunday, April 2, 2017

St. James Anglican Church , Hearing Aids, and Cactus Club Lunch with the God Kids.

Sunday morning is always made better by church attendance. It’s uplifting. It’s a time to get together and see people in a very special community way. I like that we’re there after week a week of work.  I’ve made the best of friends over time. I miss Alice. She was a wonder.  But I’d not have known her grace and presence were I not to have attended the church for years.

I like that we’re moving through Lent. I like Christmas and the Holy Week.  I especially liked Father Kevin’s sermon today.  He talked of Lazarus and the resurrection. It was enlightening in terms of his insights into the biblical passages but more importantly it’s placement before Jesus Easter resurrection will forever remind me that despite Jesus showing his disciples and us over and over again the miracle of life we still fear death.

Also the truth is,  I had my hearing aids on. I saw George the GP who sent me to Diamond the ENT who recommended Nexgen the hearing aid folk. And suddenly despite my vanity I was wearing hearing aids.  Laura said if I keep my hair long no one will know.  

For the last year or so I was becoming irritated with the acoustics and the mumblers in church.  I really hadn’t heard a complete sermons for months.  This time I heard Father Kevin’s and it was very good.  I  loved it.  I feel badly because my friend Kevin thought Father Kevin very learned.  Because I couldn’t hear his sermons I didn’t share his opinion. He seemed like a nice man but other than than I didn’t realize until today how much more I appreciated him when I could actually hear him.  He’s quite brilliant. 

There were three places I noticed that others had problem with hearing. When I watched tv last year with my brother and sister in law and nephews I thought they were weird because they kept the tv so low. I remember my father not wanting to waste and wondered if my brother had some twisted notion about saving money by keeping the volume low.  I actually went out and bought them an amplifier and insisted on having the television louder. I thought them ‘eastern’ and “soft”  and not exposed to ‘western’  and “tought’ like I was listening to hard rockl and riding motorcycles.  I considered their very liking the television low as somehow an Eastern characterological flaw..  

When I first wore the hearing aids and watched tv with Laura at her place I turned the volume right down and enjoyed it just fine.  The neighbours had been complaining about the blaring tv  to Laura when I was over. I’d got her an amplifier too.  I was that old guy. I was rather pissed when the lady next door banged on the wall and I had to  turn down a war movie which hadn’t been loud at all.  

I see that the dial which had been at 90 is now at 10.   I’m happy with that. Laura was very understanding.  I see that now. 

The same was  on the car and truck radio. Obviously there was a conspiracy and the volume meter on these had been switched after I got my hearing aids.  I’ve noticed people are actually shouting in the downtown eastside again. Laura, smiling with relief, says I’m talking quieter now. 

I was also having trouble with ’soft talking’ ladies in my office and ’shy people’ in the office. I was having to ask them to repeat themselves.  I was doing the same out a lot too and complaining to Laura that no one teaches the younger generation elocution and they don’t look at you when they talk. According to the hearing aid specialist I’d become quite adept  lip reader which explained my  frustration. when I couldn’t see the face.  Perhaps another reason I’m incensed by people wearing burgas.  I might be less offended now.

Finally, church. I really did think that the sound system in the church was going. I thought they should put money into it and actually thought of getting some rock band audio friend  to come to church with me and listen to the speakers which sounded increasingly muffled and  tinny.

They don’t sound that way any more.  Father Kevin’s sermon was great and I’m really looking forward to hearing more.  It resonated with spring renewal and the blooming cherry trees .

Gilbert loves St. James where he has a lot of friends, little and big. He was blessed by the Bishop one time.   It’s a great social outing for him.  He loves  the Peace best.  After his great church experience ,  he doesn’t mind being dropped off at Laura’s so we can go out for lunch. Laura always brings him back tid bits. 

Kevin and Anna and the god kids, Kendra, Alex and Izek joined us at the Cactus Club.

I love the Peppercorn Steak.  It’s great talking to Anna and Kevin.  Also the kids are a going concern. It’s really wonderful to see how loved and cared for they are. I’m not around kids so it’s a real treat for me that Anna and Kevin share theirs with us.  I admit I’m glad it’s a limited dose. They’re a 24/7 going concern and we are exhausted after a few hours.  Much more intense than Gilbert. In fact they’re like Gilbert with a ball fixation but they’re not just fixated on a ball, they’re fixated on everything.  Amazing to watch Wondermother Anna juggling the competing communications.  Kevin is a great dad too but I like to talk vehicles and travel with him distracting him from his parenting. This gets him in trouble with Anna.  We’re all getting together for a camping weekend so I might have to leave the hearing aids at home. 

Church and after church hanging out is just the Christian thing to do.  Christian friends.  Love of Jesus.  Sharing and caring.  We all hold hands before the meal and Kevin says grace. He’s the dad.  I’m the old guy so I’m just glad to pick up the cheque. Anna and Laura were talking crafts.  Later Laura told me that Izek said her nails were really pretty.  “Isn’t that the sweetest thing.”said Laura. She has a young admirer.

IMG 4610IMG 4611IMG 4612IMG 4614IMG 4615IMG 4622IMG 4620IMG 4621IMG 4624IMG 4626IMG 4617