isn't he clever?

http://www.newstatesman.com/blogs/the-faith-column/2008/07/german-mennonite-society

"...Not all young students wanting to change the world become the willing pawns of demagogues or monied interests. Some avoid the mainstream, forge ahead in unexpected directions and invent Microsoft. Or in our case, the Mennonites. But what was it that these lads of the early 16th century invented? The students had a radical idea about how to implement Martin Luther’s big religious experiment..."

a nice story, even if you aren't ethnically Menno

http://blog.beliefnet.com/godspolitics/2008/07/when-mennonites-made-a-mosque.html

And yes, I think I can safely say that there are definitely some Mennonites who would be happy to offer prayer space to a Muslim community on any given Friday.

ever since orientation...

I've had a special soft spot for this hymn, please ignore the random Africa montage (unless you really like animals):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b1bSlS6OWTs

Tonight I've been listening to it over and over.

the people we meet...

http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=nhlyZl6k2Cs

This video just made me think because I know fixing things is rarely as straight forward as this, and lots of the time you're better of leaving things be. And most of the time broken things are unfixable, and all you can do is learn to live with the brokenness. But I guess I like the video because it reminds me that there are other folk out there who want to help fix things too, in whatever fashion they have the gifts for.

placenta

"Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark..."

- from Death Cab for Cutie's "I will follow you into the dark"

"Tuesday night at the bible study
We lift our hands and pray over your body
But nothing ever happens...

...On the floor at the great divide
With my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied
I am crying in the bathroom

In the morning when you finally go
And the nurse runs in with her head hung low
And the cardinal hits the window

In the morning in the winter shade
On the first of March on the holiday
I thought I saw you breathing

Oh the glory that the lord has made
And the complications when I see his face
In the morning in the window..."

- from Sufjan Steven's "Casimir Pulaski Day"

Yesterday was the viewing for Esther, the young woman from my church who recently passed away from cancer. They do it quite differently here, which was disconcerting, but I was glad I went, as it allowed me to try and express an iota of my sympathy for what her mother and brother are having to carry right now.

I've noticed lately, since Esther died, that I'm less inclined to have confidence in intercessory prayer. It made me realize that before now I rarely prayed for specific outcomes, but in terms of Esther's healing, we were all quite clear what outcome we wanted. Faith is a habit it is hard to get out of though, and I continue to hope (and pray) that God will carry her family in the midst of their loss.

In the time right after Esther's death I read the new CPT book, "118 days." The book manages to do many things, teaching about the situations of conflict that CPT works in, as well as highlighting the "explosion of goodness" that came about as a result of the crisis. Over a year later, it creates some meaning and order out of the chaos of fear and loss that the crisis inspired for folks intimately affected, as well as those distantly touched, like yours truly.

Some how the book comforted me after Esther's passing, but that comfort evaporated yesterday when I was confronted with how very dead she is now, and how much her family are hurting.

Today a few of us went down to Bristol for the funeral of my housemate's mother. She was 94, and the funeral was a lovely, simple celebration of her life. It was a privilege to be there. And it comforted me.

Someone who is dead no longer looks like themselves. And in the moment of seeing Esther's body yesterday, I was overwhelmed with a fear that she was utterly gone. That nothing was left except her physical body that will now decay. Since seeing her though, I've seen many living people. And I've been conversely overwhelmed by how alive they are. By the magic of individual personality and life that each person brims with.

And I don't know what comes next, if anything, but I have renewed hope that there is something eternal that makes its escape at death. The age-old metaphor of the baby leaving behind the placenta and the womb, or the butterfly leaving the cocoon. Maybe it's just a way of keeping myself happy, but I'll keep hoping.

Happiness

The other day a colleague who hadn't seen me for a while asked me if I was in love. She thought I looked especially happy. It was a surprising question, and given that I'd just shared a sermon on love the Sunday before (1 John 4, what a chapter!), it made me particularly thoughtful.

A few months ago in a moment of cranky cynicism, I'd asked my housemates, "why is our culture so obsessed with love?" And one of them, who has seen a little more of life than I have, replied, "because it feels good!" I think she hit the nail on the head. My colleague's question though made me need to stop and think again about what makes me feel good.

I guess I'd pretty much accepted the idea in our culture (or perhaps the subculture of young women?) that nothing feels as good as romantic love, and if you don't have it, you're missing out. So it was pretty sweet to discover that actually, happiness is made up of a whole mix of things, of which romantic love can play a part, but it isn't necessarily the essential ingredient.

At the moment of my colleague's question, when I broke down my previously unexamined excellent mood, it was influenced first by the simple presence of summer. Secondly by recent time with family, which was giving me more optimism than I'd had in a while about us as a transformed unit. Thirdly by recent reconnecting with friends, after I returned from a mad amount of travel (after two years, I feel like there's something to come back to in my adopted city.) And fourthly by a sense that I have my work life in hand (a rather novel feeling, given the nature of my position.)

I think sometimes too, rather than depression, there is euphoria in being alive and healthy, when you have recently seen some of the alternative. As well as my grandmother passing away, two other important people in my life are ill, and a young woman in my church is in the hospital with cancer. It's grotesque, the long and slow suffering God is allowing her and her family to go through. But being aware of what they are struggling with makes me feel the sun more strongly and see the smiles of other people more clearly.

I watched a movie once, a few years ago, called The Afterlife (at least, I think that's what it was called?) In the movie people when they die can pick one moment from their lives to relive for all eternity. The movie was about the people who were making that decision, and the other people who helped guide them through it. In a way, helping them find the moment of most perfect happiness, which now no longer has to be transient, but can last forever.

Do you have any idea what your moment would be? I'm not sure for myself, because in terms of people, there have been too many important ones, and they've never all been in the same place at the same time. But in terms of the simplest kind of serenity, there is nothing quite like teatime in our garden in the summer.

"Hommage En Grains" par Mes Aïeux

For le St Jean this is the second year running that we've had a poutine evening. This year one of my housemates is Quebecoise, and she actually had the real deal St-Hubert gravy, though we had to fake it with the cheese. She tried to sing the song below for us:

"Quand vient l'heure du last-call
Et que s'allument les néons
Exposant nos teints pâles
Éteignant nos ambitions

Quand aller se coucher
N'est pas une solution
Nos cerveaux embrouillés
N'envisagent qu'une option

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
Font un excellent ménage
Passé trois heures et demie
C'est de la grande gastronomie

La serveuse est guillerette
Malgré l'heure incongrue
Et sous une tonn' de spray net
Elle nous tend son menu

Et nos yeux qui salivent
Lisent les définitions
Des versions alternatives:
"Italienne, Galvaude ou Duleton"

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
Sont un heureux mariage
Oui, je l'avoue, c'est un peu gras
Mais ça re-patch l'estomac

Patates, patates

Instrumental :

Je ne briserai jamais l'objet de mon extase
L'équilibre parfait des trois éléments de base
Moi, c'est sur la classique, que je fixe mon choix
J'fais pas partie des excentriques qui rajoutent des petits pois

Dans l'attente insoutenable du suprême gueuleton
Tous autour de la table posent l'ultime question:
"De quel coin de la terre vient ce délice de maestro?
Les opinions diffèrent: Drummondville ou Victo"
(Warwick)

Puis, le festin arrive, avec sa fourchette en plastique
Enfin sous la gencive, le fromage fait couic-couic
Et si la décence invite à déguster lentement son bol
Faut quand même, faire ça vite, avant qu'les frites viennent molles

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
Forment un puissant alliage
C'est comme manger une livre de beurre
Mais Montignac nous fait pas peur

Ah! Quelle joie de savoir
Que partout au Québec
À la même heure, chaque soir
L'expérience se répète

Des épaves imbibées
Noient l'alcool dans l'gravy
Et le ventre ballonné
En rotant vont rêver…
(Rêver de… )

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
C'est engraissant, quel dommage!

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
Une part de notre héritage

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
Nous te rendons cet hommage…
En grains !"

too hard

"CPTnet

1 July 2008

BEIT UMMAR: IDF fatally shoots seventeen-year-old Palestinian youth in Beit Ummar; CPTers assaulted

On Friday, 27 June around 11:00 p.m., an Israeli soldier in Beit Ummar, a village north of Hebron, shot and killed a 17-year-old Palestinian youth, Mohammad Al-Alameh, member of a family with whom the Christian Peacemaker Teams has had frequent contact over the years.

The shooting occurred minutes after local contacts in Beit Ummar made a call to the Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) in Hebron, saying that the Israeli soldiers were entering homes and detaining civilians. Two CPTers, Tarek Abuata and Marius van Hoogstraten, rushed to the village by taxi, accompanied by Nathan Harrington, a visitor to CPT, who was on crutches.

When the team arrived half an hour later, rocks littered the main street. Israeli soldiers marched up and down the block with assault rifles held in a firing position, amid clusters of Palestinian men huddled in quiet shock.

Abuata attempted to photograph the troops, but was tackled to the ground without warning by an Israeli soldier. Another soldier knocked Harrington off his crutches when he approached to help Abuata. While Abuata and Harrington sat on the pavement, a third soldier threatened Van Hoogstraten and demanded his video camera. He removed the tape before returning the camera to Van Hoogstraten.

Abuata rose and confronted the soldiers, saying, "You killed a 17-year-old boy tonight. Why? His blood is on your hands." The soldier nearest to him smiled, and Abuata asked, "Why are you smiling? Do you have no conscience? Will you do anything the government orders you to do? Are you not accountable to God?"

More troops emerged from jeeps and advanced up the street. The assembled men of the village did not respond. CPTers followed the soldiers and Abuata continued: "What you are doing is wrong. Why are your fingers on the trigger? How would you feel if a foreign army came to your city with guns drawn? This is an illegal occupation!"

The soldiers finally climbed into their jeeps and raced off, throwing a sound bomb that caused several Beit Ummar villagers and the CPTers to hit the pavement.

The following morning, Van Hoogstraten and Abuata accompanied the Al-Alameh family and a large crowd to bring the body from the hospital in Hebron to the family's house, and then to the mosque. Two armored vehicles parked between the watchtower at the entrance to the village and the cemetery gate. Soldiers stood nearby, including the officer who claimed to have shot the youth.

Community leaders kept young men away from the soldiers, but eventually someone lobbed a stone at one of the jeeps. Though an officer responded by shooting live ammunition, no one was injured.

As the throng returned after the conclusion of burial, the army followed them into the village. Over the next hour, CPTers witnessed intermittent exchanges of stones and gunfire and heard reports that one man from Beit Ummar sustained a head injury and another an injury to the shoulder.

A link to video showing Abuata engaging the soldiers is available at http://www.youtube.com/user/cpthebron ."