If we are the body of Christ, then I am not sure how to trust him.

What do you think?

I had a great day today

I had a great day today, and I thought you all should know about it. It started off with a great run with my roommate (oh boy, training for a triathlon). At that point I decided that I needed to take some me time to prepare for the day. I spent some time reading the Bible and in prayer. Then I headed off to my old Bible College. I debated whether it would really be a worthwhile trip. I didn’t have too much time to spend there, but it is a place I like to go where I can spend time with God without thinking that I should really be washing the dishes, or doing laundry, or sweeping, or checking my email one more time. So I headed up to the college. My theology prof was there, and I thought it would be good to have a chat with him. I stopped in his office and we had a great conversation about the Eucharist and about being the body of Christ. He confirmed a lot of thought I have recently had, and sent me on my way with a book. It was a really good and encouraging talk. Then I made my way to the LDS institute. In the last institute class I attended I really felt like I wanted to talk with the teacher, so I emailed him and we set up a time (which happened to be this morning). I wasn’t sure how our conversation would go, but in the email I had mentioned that I wanted to hear his story. I got to the institute building, and the doors were locked, which meant I had to ring the door bell, and that really scared me. A very large part of me wanted to turn and walk away, but I didn’t. I rang it, and I waited. I could see the Brother walk from the far end of the hall towards me. I think a million things went through my mind. I didn’t know what I was going to say to him. I had nothing planned. I sat down in his office as he finished off an email. I made some observations –Rugby picture –lobster trap –family photos; and said some silent prayers. “So, what do you want to know” he said breaking the silence. “Everything” I replied. And I felt like that statement was pretty true, I do want to know everything. He started from his birth and told me about his childhood, his grandparents, his experiences as a Catholic, as a born again Christian and then about how he became an LDS. He told me about how he came out west, and how he got a job with the LDS Church teaching seminary and then institute. He told me about his wife and his 6 children. And then his story concluded. He looked at me and asked about my story. “Did you grow up in the Church?” I was a little shocked by his question, but answered “I grew up going to Church, but not the LDS Church.” He was intrigued, but then I realised that more was needed to be said. I added “I am not a member.” He was shocked. He had no idea. I don’t try to trick people into thinking that I am LDS; I don’t know any Mormons with dreadlocks, but I guess it is mainly the LDS who attend institute, so it was understandable for him to think that I was a member. Then I shared parts of my story with him. I shared it much like I would share my story with kids at camp. I talked about my dad’s cancer and my parents love for Guatemala. I shared about my struggle with pride and about finding my worth in Christ. I shared about inner city mission trips and the way they have changed the direction of my life. I shared about Bible School and I shared about my decision to go to a different Church when I was in grade 11. I shared about why I moved and what I might take in school. There are a lot of things which have happened in my life. Then we started talking about the way he teaches. I admire his way of teaching so much, and he said that we should sit down and talk about it more some time. I’d like that. I didn’t think that we would talk for more than an hour, but we chatted for an hour and a half and we could have kept talking if he did not have a class to teach. He asked me where I attend church now, and when I told him that I went to a Mennonite Church he was rather surprised. As we walked down the hall to leave we talked about finding the value in different denominations even if we don’t agree with everything they believe.
I had told the girl I mentor that I would be at her house at one, but I did not leave the institute building until one and she lives far across the city. I also stopped at a gas station on the way to her house because I had to pee so bad, and while I was there I decided to buy gas and wash some of my windows. I then made a stop at Safeway, I more frequently shop at superstore, but Safeway was on the way and I have a gift card for there. I stopped to buy some fruits and veggies for the girl I mentor and her family. They lost electricity and thus lost all of the food in their fridge. I know that she will often tell me that there is no food it the fridge, but I know by that she often just means that there is nothing which she desires to eat, but when she asked for fruits and veggies, and her mom was well aware of her doing so, I know that they really did need some food. I got to the till and then remembered that I left my wallet it the car. I asked the cashier if I could run and grab it and she said that would be no problem, When I got back there was a different cashier and I was a little confused. Anyhow, I paid for my food, and completely forgot to use the gift card (good thing I will need more groceries again) and then got to her house at 1:51 Her nine year old sister greeted me and helped me put away the groceries. The girl I mentor was sleeping as she had felt kinda sick, but we woke her up to make cookies. And she came to life. After the cookie making I hung out with her little sister while she went and showered and then we went downtown to volunteer at a Centre which provides community, meals, food hampers and clothing to single moms and low income families. The girl I mentor and her mom and sister and a neighbour all came with us down there. It is great that they can volunteer and receive what they need at the same time, I think it gives dignity which is what that place is all about. They went home with food and new clothes. As I drove home (which give me a bit of time to think) I thought about how much I have come to love that family. I haven't always, but I think God has given me his love for them, and allowed me to see him in their love for eachother. That family is far from perfect. They hurt eachother, fight and yell at eachother, but in the end the love eachother, and care deeply for eachother and would do so much for eachother.
I also started thinking how it was pretty great that the place we volunteered at was able to give, and help out so much. I wondered if anyone practical would say that they should of had food storage so that when they were in need they had extra stored away, but I thought about the sharing that had taken place that night and then I got it. I couldn’t contain it. I laughed because I needed to release my heart. “That’s Christianity” I said out loud and I said it again, and again. I got it. Christianity isn’t having enough to care for one’s self, but about sharing when we have more than enough. It is about having a community to support those in need. It is about love. That is Christianity.
I think that Shane Claiborne echos the voice of the early Christians when he says that those with two coats ought to give one away, and to not give one away is like stealing from those who have none. I think if we have an extra can of food, and there are others going without, we have taken what rightfully belongs to them.

Population me?

I really like how she drives.

"Opinions are good"

That is what my roommate told me the other night as we were chatting, “opinions are good, but society tells us to be so open minded that we lose the ability to form opinions”
I don’t know how I feel about that. I think when she said opinions, she largely meant religious convictions. I have an opinion about what is true. I have an opinion about whether or not that shirt looks good on you. I have an opinion about the meat industry and I have an opinion about God. Is that okay? My opinions might be wrong. If I say your shirt is ugly, I might be wrong, but if I say that I don’t like your shirt, you cannot argue with that. Opinions hurt people, and I don’t like hurting people. I also think that we can be far too set in our opinion that we fail to see where others are coming from, and fail to see the good in their opinion. Their opinion might be wrong, but I can still learn fron it and accept it as their opinion. And I shall try to learn to share my opinion without hurting other. These are just my baby thoughts ont this, I still have much to learn. What are your thoughts?

Unrelated quote for the day:
“Whenever you are in doubt, apply the following test. Recall the face of the poorest and weakest person you may have seen and ask yourself if the step you contemplate is going to be of any use to them.” - Gandhi

I want to look the poor in the face, and see the face of God

"I wasn't exactly sure what a fully devoted Christian looked like, or if the world had even seen one in the last few centuries. From my desk at college, it looked like some time back we had stopped living Christianity and just started studying it." -Shane Claiborne

“He pled the cause of the afflicted and needy;
Then it was well.
Is not that what it means to know Me?”
Declares the LORD."
-Jeremiah 22:16

"God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house. God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives. God is in the cries heard under the rubble of war. God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives, and God is with us if we are with them." -Bono

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." -James 1:27

Why not...?

I have been put face to face with my pride recently. I was reading a book about woman in leadership (especially Church leadership) which suggested that men are often unwilling to learn from woman because of their pride. But what about woman? What about me? It occurred to be that I may be too proud to learn from woman as well. Somehow I can get caught up thinking that I a better than the average female. I start thinking that they are all touchy feely and none of them use their brain very much. I easily believe that there is nothing good about being touchy feely and that I have nothing to learn from them. sorry, I am wrong. I need to live like I believe that I can learn something from everyone, because I can, and because I am not better than them. I tend to judge people quickly and then decide whether or not I can learn from them, or if they are interesting to me. I dismiss people quickly. I don’t give them a chance. This too is wrong. And it is degrading. I say that I believe that all people are valuable, but I don’t treat them all as if they are. I need to learn to treat people right, but what if I am unwilling to learn from the person who can teach me this? It is time that I push through the boundaries I have created.

Remand Centre

I was sitting on the city train and listening to the conversation of two men behind me.
“Did you just get out of the Remand Centre?” the one asked.
“Yep. You too?”
“Yep.”
I looked up and out of my window I could see the Remand. Its tiny windows are like keys, but they seem to be hopeless keys that will never fit the lock. Hearing them speak about the Centre, and seeing it up ahead I was filled with emotions which I cannot quite understand, but I felt them in my gut. The Remand Centre which was built to house 340 prisoners now holds upwards of 800. I have heard that the human right activists have spoken harshly against the conditions inside. It is understaffed and as I gazed up at it I felt sick. This isn’t right, I thought. The train headed underground and the Remand was no longer in my sight, but it was still in my heart as I thought about the horrible treatment which is experienced there. The say that once people are finally sentenced they get two or even three days taken off of their jail term for every day they were in the Remand Centre because the conditions are so horrible. I heard the one man mention that he had gotten off “Scot Free”. I don’t know what he did, but it made me hurt for those who end up at the Remand even though they are innocent.
The train stopped and the Transit Police got on. “Tickets, transfers and passes” they demanded. I searched through my bag until I found my transfer to show to the Policewoman. She continued down the aisle. When she got to the men who had just gotten out of the Remand one was up front confessing “I don’t got one”. The other man searched in vain through his bag hoping to make it appear as if he had lost his ticket. They were both escorted off of the bus at the next stop.
I think it is just a fine if you fail to pay for the train, but I have come to realise that some people have no money, they cannot pay off a fine. If the fines don’t get paid I can only imagine that these men will end up back at the Remand.
The thought made me angry. I wished I could do something about it. I considered giving them my transfer; I didn’t know what else could be done. I wanted to offer them grace, but I wasn’t sure what it would have cost me.
The simple fact is that the train costs money. They didn’t pay, so they deserve the consequences. That is what is fair. That is justice... right?
I don’t know. It doesn’t sit right with me. The problem is far greater than the surface. It goes back further than I’ll ever know. Sending them back to the Remand seemingly with just perpetuate hopelessness. I am not convinced that incarceration is beneficial or even just, but I fear that I don’t have the better option. I just wanted to offer them grace, but maybe it wasn’t mine to give.