The OW!!! Starts Now

Microsoft Windows Vista has launched. And true to form, even the giant Flash ad for it slows my computer down.

Trailer park eschatology

You know, I always figured when and if the Antichrist came, the one thing it wouldn't be was an eye rolling moment. I was wrong.

"In 1998, de Jesus avowed that he was the reincarnation of the Apostle Paul. Two years ago at Growing in Grace's world convention in Venezuela, he declared himself Christ. And just last week, he called himself the Antichrist and revealed a "666" tattooed on his forearm."


http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/16840066/site/newsweek/

Curse you, Red Baron!

That might have been the cry of this early bird. Because this bird flew in a way not too dissimilar from a Sopwith Camel biplane.

It looks like God's aviation aesthetics progressed the same way the Wright brothers did!

World religion day

I finally got to see our new mayor Larry O'Brien yesterday. I was a guitar accompanist at World Religion Day for our little ones. Kids from all of Ottawa's religious communities sent performers to showcase a number of dances and songs.

The Sikh boys group did a dance called a Bhangra dance, dressed in colourful turbans and vests. One little fellow was a virtuoso dancer, and made break dancers look like amateurs. The Sikh girls sang a song asking for God to show mercy to his burning world. A group of Hindu dancers did a colourful dance, and most of the girls smiled the entire time.

We had the youngest group, by far. Slightly more than a dozen kindergarten-aged boys and girls sang two songs, and I was their guitar accompanist on one of them. They were terribly cute, singing, "God loves you, and we love you, and that's the way it should be!"

Metro described them as singing "folk hymns." Folk music, increasingly, seems to be the Catholic thing. :-)

What was my purpose?

This is your time, this is your dance.
Live every moment, leave nothing to chance.
Swim in the sea, drink of the deep,
Embrace the mystery of all you can be.

(This is Your Time, by Michael W Smith)

A family at Lane's church has suffered a great tragedy - the loss of their teenaged daughter, Talitha Ochoa, while they were serving with a mission in Africa. This, of course, is every parent's greatest fear, and Lane finds himself understandably asking whether he can ever see the purpose in her death.

I have found myself asking myself this very question, from time to time - what is the purpose of this? How can this cruel fate be a standing epitaph? I remember the heartbreaking scene of a fireman carrying Baylee Almon from the wreckage of the Murrah building - seeing the little yellow socks dangling on her small feet. Even though this was a faraway child I never knew, I could not understand this incomprehensible loss; how could a baby a day after celebrating her birthday have faced this end?

I have come to realize, with respect to Lane, that we are asking the wrong question, when we inquire into the purpose of someone's death. All that they were, all of the great and heaven-sent glory that is the dignity of either a baby or a young woman - this was their purpose: every ray of sunshine they brought into the world; every smile they raised on another's face, every bit of exuberance passed on in a moment's laugh. This was their very destiny.

Lane quotes a family member as having written about Talitha:

"She had a strong zeal for life and for others – a child totally sold out for Jesus; an evangelist’s heart; a passion for people and animals. Recently, she even offered to donate one of her kidneys to a dying woman in Uganda. …Such selflessness and self sacrifice embodied in such a young, godly child."

We could search for a lifetime looking for the purpose of a tragic loss, and we would never find it. But what if, as I suggested, that is the wrong question? I humbly propose that this is the real question:

What is the purpose of my life?

In Talitha's case, the purpose of her life is much easier to discern than the purpose of her passing. For if "such selflessness and self sacrifice" isn't an answer to the former, then what is?

Death is nothing. Its coming needs no purpose. And its apparent permanence is an illusion, a paper tiger. For it is in Talitha's very name, Aramaic for "little lamb," that God answers the pleas of those who mourn her.

While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader's house to say, "Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?" But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, "Do not fear, only believe." He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James.

When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. When he had entered, he said to them, "Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping." And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child's father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was.

He took her by the hand and said to her, "Talitha cum," which means, "Little girl, get up!" And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement.

(Mark 5:35-42)

A winter's day in the woods

Today was an adventure day. This morning we set off in pursuit of firewood. Over the pond we went, and my brother in law said, “Well, that bodes well.”

“It’s the second pond we’ve always gone through on,” I answered.

And into the frozen pond water we promptly went, on the ATV. My brother in law hit the accelerator furiously. I jumped off to lighten the load, and he slowly freed himself. Walking along side the beaver dam, I went in. I pulled my foot out, and went in again.

“Did you go in?” He asked.

“Yep,” I answered.

“We should go back.”

“No, no, I’m fine… really it isn’t too bad.”

“We don’t need to lose any toes over this.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll say if it gets bad.”

So we went, I toughed it out, and what did we do upon getting home? We went ice fishing!

As we walked out onto the ice, heading towards our destination, the sun began to lower towards the horizon. As we passed a couple of islands, 100 meters back from our destination, the ice began to crack. We stepped back to the last island.

“Let’s fish here.” My brother in law said. And so we did. We got a bite, and nothing else. But it was a good and simple day, and as the sun set, not a cloud was to be seen in the sky. And that is all that matters.

Self-improvement

I just listened to a record my group made in 1993. It is terrible. It is almost unbearable for me to listen to. While it is ambitious, with a horn section and everything - it has a poor recording quality, uneven vocals, and so-so instrumentation. Frankly, my home recordings on which I play all the instruments are superior to it.

I wonder if I will look that way on my efforts from today, when I look back in ten years?

Kurt Cobain had a lightsaber?

Yeah... I'm pretty much only posting this bit of news so I could post an article with that title. But it is apparently true - a film is in development with Ewan McGregor  as the actor the film makers most want for the part of the doomed rock star.

Last flip of the chalk

Canada's most famous weatherman - actually the first weatherman - has passed away. For those of us old enough to remember him, you will really have only one memory of Percy Saltzman: flipping the chalk.

As he gave the forecast, he wrote furiously on a Canada-shaped chalkboard, and would finish by turning around, and flipping his piece of chalk high into the air without looking at his hand. I remember trying to do that at school with the teacher's chalk, and never really managing to do it.

He died at ninety one years of age. Amazingly enough, he was a blogger. And a very active one!

Blaming God

People frequently ask if it is fair to give God credit for good things, if we don't also blame him for the bad things.

I will be honest. At the loss of my sister in law, quite suddenly, I actually did blame God, even though it wasn't his fault really. But God has very big shoulders, and for a time, I feel he was happy to carry my sorrow for me. But, you can't spend a life in blame. If God asks us to always forgive, then how can we withhold forgiveness from God? And how can we withhold it if in fact we barely even understand what he is up to?

"Where were you when I laid the foundations of the world," God said to Job, "Tell me if you have understanding!" (Job 38:4)

Everything has a purpose... Earthquakes are a function of plate tectonics, and plate tectonics have allowed us to have the atmospheric composition we have, as well as shaping the continents on which life bloomed.

A world with complete geological stability? Venus - a barren pressure cooker where lead melts on the surface.

Diseases? Bacteria and viruses were some of the very first organic structures to populate the primitive seas. Viruses carried genetic material from cell to cell, enabling gene swapping at a time when sexual reproduction had not yet come. We might not be here to discuss this if it were not for these things, our very ancestors in very real ways.

Murder and rape are human caused. God is due no blame for the wilfully monstrous acts of men.

Yes, suffering is a mystery. Who can say with absolute certainty that they know of the good and godly thing that can come from a terrible, terrible circumstance?

But a life with no unexpected tragedy, a life with no sorrow, offers nothing for beauty and joy to be contrasted against. How would joy really be joy, if we did not know how unique, fragile, and precious joy really was? Who would work to bring joy, or seek to spread it?

Yes, God has broad shoulders. But don't think for a moment that God is not to be praised for the good and wonderful things. For it is our sorrow that permits us to truly know the value of that which is bliss.

What does it all mean?

Irina recently visited a museum that, among other things, displayed Catholic liturgical vestments. Inspired by this, I thought I would put together a brief introduction to Catholic liturgical vestments, using my superpope action figure, which my friend J put in my stocking last Christmas.

The Hat

The hat is called a "Mitre." It is a tiara worn by bishops or abbots (the head of a community of monks.) it has two long tails called lappets that hang down at the back. The mitre is a symbol of a bishop's authority, and he wears it during every Mass - but always takes it off when he says prayers, because a man's head is not supposed to be covered when he prays. The Orthodox bishops of the east also wear mitres, but they are very different looking; theirs look more like a traditional crown.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mitre

The Staff

The staff is called a sheperd's crozier. It is meant to show that a bishop (or an abbot) is the leader of a flock. It normally has a round crook like a real sheperd's staff, but Pope John Paul II's crozier had a depiction of the crucifixion for a crook. A bishop who is visiting a church in his own jurisdiction (called a diocese) will hold the crook out, to show his pastoral care of the flock. But when he visits a church in another bishop's jurisdiction, he will point the crozier back at himself, as a symbol of respect for the local bishop.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crozier

The Outer Garment

The outer garment the figure is wearing is called a chasuble. This is typically worn by all priests during a Mass, and a bishop like the Pope, of course, is still a priest. Along with most of the robes a priest wears, the chasuble is descended from the ordinary clothing worn by public officials of the Roman empire. These fashions passed out of use when the empire lost temporal sovereignty over Europe, but of course, since the church persisted, so did the priestly clothing. A deacon wears a somewhat reduced form of the chasuble called a dalmatic. Chasubles are not just for Catholics - in most Protestant churches I've been in, the minister wears something similar. The two letters overlapping are the Greek letters alpha and omega (meaning the first and the last.)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chasuble

The Inner Garment

The plain white robe worn underneath the chasuble is called an alb. All of the ministers on the altar - from Popes to deacons and even altar boys and altar girls - wear an alb during Mass. It is typically a white baptismal gown, and a symbol of the purity granted by God to all (by being white.) Most Protestant ministers wear an alb as well, frequently, along with choir singers.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alb

The Stole

Not visible is the stole, similar to the Tallit. A priest (or bishop) wears the stole around the neck, and wrapped around the front. A deacon wears a stole over the shoulder. A friend of mine made a stole for our priest out of beads... it was quite beautiful (and pretty heavy.)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stole

The Pallium

The sort of scarf like garment, ending in the rounded black piece, is called a Pallium. It is a Papal symbol, always made out of pure white lambs' wool, from lambs raised by monks. In recent centuries, the Pope will grant certain bishops who have been entrusted with great authority (overarching care of several regions or a country) a pallium of their own, which they are only entitled to wear if given to them by the Pope. My archbishop, the very Rev. Marcel Gervais, was given a pallium by the late Pope.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pallium

There... I think I thought of most of it.

Baptism day

Today is the day our granddaughter is being baptized. We have a whole lot of family in the house. I've written a song for the occasion, of course. I spent hours last night switching between instruments practicing it in the basement... guitar.. no, try the piano! The organ! How about the mandolin?

I still haven't figured out what I am going to play it on. :-)

Good night

I love the hour of Compline from the Daily Office. Tonight's psalm is number sixteen.

Preserve me, Lord, I put my hope in you.

I have said to the Lord “You are my Lord, in you alone is all my good”.
As for the holy and noble men of the land, in them is all my delight.
But for those who run to alien gods, their sorrows are many.
I will not share in their libations of blood. I will not speak their names.

You, Lord, are my inheritance and my cup. You control my destiny,
the lot marked out for me is of the best, my inheritance is all I could ask for.
I will bless the Lord who gave me understanding; even in the night my heart will teach me wisdom.

I will hold the Lord for ever in my sight: with him at my side I can never be shaken.
Thus it is that my heart rejoices, heart and soul together; while my body rests in calm hope.

You will not leave my soul in the underworld. You will not let your chosen one see decay.
You will show me the paths of life, the fullness of joy before your face, and delights at your right hand until the end of time.

There's a one line gospel that goes so nicely with that psalm.

So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today. (Matthew 6:34)

And in my busy, busy life, these things get me through just one more night, which is all they need to do. Tomorrow will take care of itself. May God's many blessings be with you this night.

The mystery of why

In our age of knowledge, nobody likes to say, "God made it so." I like to think I am well read on the subject of science. And I like to think that my faith hasn't blinded me, or prevented me from acknowledging the many delightful discoveries that have been made about the universe, but I still like a little mystery to my existence. The words "God did it" acknowledge that mystery in a singularly childlike way. Although we can know much more than we now know, we will never know everything.

So am I a fool if I say, "God did it?"

Perhaps, but I don't care. There must be a way to ensure some mystery and humility remains in our thinking.

It is one thing to know that somehow the first primitive sponges managed to turn into worms, jellyfish, shelled arthropods, and squid-like creatures. And it is one thing to know that the Big Bang filled the universe so energetically with subatomic wavelike particles that eventually came out of their uncertain quantum mechanical shells and formed atoms and molecules. It is one thing to know we know many things now.

But it remains another thing to ask that delightfully mysterious question, "Why?" We know these things are, we know much about how they work. But we want to, as Stephen Hawking put it so eloquently, "know the mind of God." Some, like Hawking, search the fabric of the universe for that answer. Others study anthropology. And others yet wonder if we cannot ask that question in the complete abstract, in that science known as the queen of the sciences, theology.

Why are we here? Why is there anything? What am I here to do?

Our knowledge comes, and it goes. Newton's universe is swept away by Einstein's. But these critical questions stay with us always. And who can condemn those who wonder if those questions aren't perhaps as spiritual as they seem to be?

Nazanin update

Help Nazanin reports cautiously that Nazanin's retrial appears to have gone fairly well so far. The court ruled that Nazanin's actions were not "premeditated murder" and that the previous court accepted some faulty testimony in reaching their verdict.

Still, they have not yet overturned her death sentence, so people are still encouraged to sign the petition.

Save Nazanin!

 A young woman named Nazanin Fatehi was walking in the park with her niece when three men approached them and attempted to rape them. Defending herself and her niece, Nazanin stabbed one of them in the arm, and the other in the chest, causing the death of the latter man.

legally, she was obliged to defend herself. If she had not, she would have been subject to a hundred lashes under Iranian law. But because she did defend herself, she was sentenced to death by hanging. I kid you not.

CTV.ca | Former Miss Canada hoping to save Iranian woman

There is a petition circulating to stop Nazanin's execution. Considering how high a profile Iran is keeping right now, the more people they know are watching them, the more pressure they will feel not to implement such an unjust sentence.

The petition is here.

HelpNazanin.com

Health care

This is an interesting bit of news - California is becoming the second state to ensure universal health care coverage. This parallels in some ways how universal health care first spread in Canada - it was in provinces (Saskatchewan most most notably) that universal health care first appeared.

Although the US is a very different country, and I am not sure our style of care could ever work down there, some are starting to notice that a single public insurance system has competitive benefits so pronounced that it is actually shutting down one of the USA's most important industries. The automotive industry is slowly but surely shifting out of Michigan and into neighbouring Ontario - and why? Because the cash strapped car companies do not have to provide costly health care coverage to a single employee north of the border. It saves them a pile of money on precious labour costs.

knobboy: It Ain't Free discusses this very factor.

However, the move in California to ensure universal coverage is an important step not just for the left coast, but the entire country. I guess Arnold Shwarzenegger took that skiing accident seriously! :-)

milkywaymaps.google.com

I guess mapping the moon wasn't a big enough project. :-)

iTWire - Google to map the galaxy with giant telescope

Retreat!

I've been asked to lead the music on a retreat shortly after Easter. I've done it for this retreat once before, and it is a lovely thing to do. Music is such an important part of prayer, and vice versa, that I don't think one can truly exist without the other.

I was asked if I wanted to do anything else, such as speak. People are sensitive, I think, that I might feel 'used' for only ever being asked  for help with music. What they don't realize what a joy it is for me to serve in this way. I've always pictured God as having sung the universe into existence, much the way Tolkien writes in the Silmarillon. So I like to think he takes particularly delight when parts of his creation sing their love back to him.

Because you are my help,
       I sing in the shadow of your wings.

(Psalm 63:7)

Waiting for winter

On the night of Christmas, winter came. It stayed for a day, and like a hurried guest, it left as soon as it was polite to do so. And it hasn't been back since.

Outside the sliding doors, where the back field is, it is warm. It is wet. It is grey and dreary. And there isn't a single remaining patch of melting snow. Just the dull, bitter look of fall. Snow may be a nuisance at times, but it is pretty and brightens up everything it lands on. You can ski on it, snowmobile on it, or put an ice auger through it in the lake and dig a fishing hole.

We haven't been able to do any of that. Winter - come back! We hardly knew ye.

G.A.S. (Gear Acquisition Syndrome)

I have, for a while now, had a whole whack of gift certificates for Long and MacQuade (a music store) saved up. Over Christmas, this collection was added to, shall we say.

I couldn't stand it anymore. So after a dentist appointment on Wednesday, my wife and I dropped by this music store. There were two guitars I had my eye on - a tie dyed Stratocaster in the second hand rack, and a standard Telecaster. So I fetched one of the young sales guys and had him drag down the purple tie dyed Strat. I plugged it in, but the amp it was in had no gain (gain, in guitar terms, is how you get that crunchy, loud electric guitar sound.)  So after a while of me toying in a frustrated way with the amp, the sales guy led me to an isolation room... I guess he was worried I would blow away the other customers.

The guitar had a nice sound - but I have two of this kind of guitar already. Plus it was in pretty rough shape. Someone had taken a huge chunk of paint and polyurethane off the back of the instrument, and the intonation had been put way out. My twenty year old guitars are in better shape. But it was priced cheap... and I have Gear Acquisition Syndrome, a condition common to musicians. I must buy equipment while gift certificates burn a hole in my pocket!

Which led me to a black Fender Telecaster, just the standard model. It was the only one they had left - there were other Telecaster guitars, but all were deluxe in some way. But this standard, basic instrument has a great, hot sound. I know because my wife brought it over, and I plugged it in and tried it!

So with the gift certificates covering about 2/3 of the cost, my wife convinced me to put it on layaway. I hope I don't have to wait too long to come up with the rest of it. I want to play!

A parrot that can talk

I know how unremarkable that may seem. But this one isn't just a rote repeater. This parrot can actually converse.

In other news...

I broke my toe this weekend. And oddly enough, I can't say for sure when it happened. My brother in law and I went out cutting wood, and I think I stubbed my toe shortly before that. Steel toed boots don't flex, so it wasn't that painful - just a bit.

While we were out there, it throbbed a little, so I said half-joking to him, "I think I broke my toe."

"No you didn't, can you move it? You'd be screaming... trust me, you'd know."

Well I did. When I got back, my wife and sister in law told me to tape it to another toe. This morning, I thought I'd take the tape off, because it hasn't hurt as much this morning. I took a few steps, and put the tape right back on.

It would be nice to have hooves sometimes.

The Elephant in the Room

The elephant in the room, for a Christian-themed blog such as mine, is of course the execution of Saddam Hussein. The initial reaction that just about everybody in the region had to it was emotional. Riverbend in Iraq bitterly protested. Iran's official newspaper celebrated . Here at home, it was no different. On the Friday before New Year's the Sun posted an insistent and emotional demand that "meddlers" (western death penalty opponents) stop opposing Saddam's execution.

However, it isn't all heat. Surprisingly for so conservative a publication, the National Review posted a series of balanced reflections from important Catholic theologians weighing the pros and cons. Stephen Bainbridge carefully pleads the case that Saddam's hanging was a licit use of the death penalty under Catholic teaching.

Of course, I had several emotional reactions, over the course of the events.

• I felt empathy for the Iraqi victims of Saddam's Kurdish and Shiite purges - I can completely understand how carrying out Saddam's sentence would seem like necessary to both closure and justice, although I agree with Sr. Helen Prejean, when she says, "It is an illusory thing, like drinking salt water when you are thirsty, as though by watching another person die you could ever be healed."
• I was repulsed by the bloodthirsty coverage of the western media - for instance, on Google searches, without having any desire to see it, images of Saddam's execution came up in searches all the time. I'm sorry, but I don't want to gawk at executions any more than I am given to vulturing at fatal car wrecks.
• I wanted to forget all about it, if I could, to hide away from it all. Whether one agrees with capital punishment or not, it is still unarguably a form of violence: a scheduled form of violence, even. The more I know about an execution, the dirtier I feel... like I have to have a shower just thinking about it. There is no good way to kill a man, even a man who could be safely described by his victims as a monster, and the taint and stench of it is something I like to stay as far from as possible.

However, my reaction wasn't solely emotional. I carefully surveyed my own thoughts on the death penalty, to see if there was anything in this event that could refine my own position on capital punishment.

Christianity has always admitted the possibility of the death penalty, in no small part because the scriptures clearly allude to capital punishment. There can be no denying that the death penalty has been an extreme punishment frequently resorted to in human history. Not all uses of the death penalty have been unjust. But it is a punishment with a dark and emotional undercurrent, and in many instances, the application of it has been unjust - I think, for instance, of the brutal Robespierre in the French Revolution, who used execution as a kind of 'class cleansing.'

But what was a pastoral society in the Iron Age supposed to do when it was revealed that one amongst them is a murderer, one likely to offend again? There was no way to lock someone up for fifty years if you all live in the hills and fields. In such a circumstance, it can be argued that, as John Paul II said, we should only resort to the "extreme of executing the offender except in cases of absolute necessity: in other words, when it would not be possible otherwise to defend society." For our ancestors, it likely was impossible to otherwise protect their people from a murderer. However, in modern societies, there are few such cases, truly. We have secure prisons, and we have the resources to incarcerate offenders in a permanent way, and in a way that promotes deterrence. As the Supreme Court of Canada noted in a 2001 ruling, "exposure of the respondents to death in prison by execution (does not advance) Canada's public interest in a way that the alternative -- death in prison by natural causes -- would not."

The death penalty does nothing to advance Christian morality, which in Matthew 25:39 has us visiting prisoners rather than engaging in forms of ritual shaming and violence, which is what I believe modern executions to be. Quite the contrary, I find that regrettably strong Christian support for the death penalty tends to hurt our interests in other pro-life causes, as others are quick to point us out as hypocrites, which they are right to do.

So my personal bottom line on capital punishment, put as simply as I can, is this: if we do not need to kill the offender to protect ourselves, then perhaps we really shouldn't.

What's your bottom line?

Credit goes out to Lane for bringing Riverbend's post to my attention.

Wintering

My daughter took the daylight shot. I took the sunset a day earlier.