Monday, June 27, 2005

Just In Time For Christmas (Or Bill C-38, You Decide)

This is one I wrote back in December '99 for a Christmas concert at the Cosmo with the Vineyard crew. Tonya Gordon pressed me for something to be read during a scene change, thought you might like it.

A Telling of Christmas

All scenes open in the shadowy afterglow of the expulsion where furtive figures are darting about, stealing the occasional fearful, backwards glance with eyes backlit by Eden’s sword. Scurrying ‘cross crag and plain like a thousand new-born spiders, each one’s eyes slow to exchange heaven’s glory for the sun’s baleful glow, they stumble; they fall. They rise and run, fleeing the blast wave of love’s agonising sorrow. Their destination defying description as they despairingly devise an escape from the Everywhere. Every step confounded by darting shards of fire shooting through the coalescing shadows on the ground newly impregnated with a far flung hope. Shafts of shekinah splay across the earth from the convulsing cloud of glory and veiling blackness that rises from the place of communion. A living explosion, disgorging its energies before passing from visible to the invisible. From sight to remembrance and rote. The last eruption before it is engulfed sends a finger of eternal fire screaming from above to burn unseen words of promise upon the belly of the earth. With a final shudder creation shoulders her burden and sends every last soul sprawling against the unyielding earth where they lie in trembling expectation of they know not what. As the cosmos desperately absorbs the last ebbing waves of the Creator, like clouds stretching for the fleeting horizon, there comes a silence. Every hearty feels it tearing through its very being like a rose torn through grasping fingers. Every heart waits in agonised knowing bearing the crushing weight of regret. Every heart as one releases new-born sorrow and tormented remorse at the beckoning of a wordless scream. A scream that would find its voice echoing from the throat of another in His throes of death. Every heart forever recesses within its chambers of thought an ember glowing upon the altar of the soul; a question. Are we forsaken!
Across the ages every dying generation burns this yearning upon the mind of the next. Stumbling through the millennia under the sun’s dim glow they weave a tapestry of woe. Their grasping hands and prying eyes falling endlessly victim to the taunts and secret whispers of the dark jester. A touch; a prod in a world of darkness luring away the gaze from fleeting bursts of rapturous, heaven-born sight. Gifts veiled in blackness soothe clutching hands only to pierce the expectant bosom pressed close in ardent embrace. Few find in their ruminations and reaching the gentle hand of hope. Few feel the fiery life of its fervent grip. Fewer still know its passionate purpose.
Now at last, though, there come upon this burdened sphere footfalls, stepping ever forward with destiny’s power in every stride. From the ranks of the hopeless blind with an unknown fire pursuing their purpose they have come forth, beckoned by promise. Smouldering remnants of the final finger of fire glow curiously beneath their every step. Even dark death is held in thrall at this sight, his hands fallen feebly at his sides. They come, from the sands of the east they are drawn on by the burden of the whisper that thunders. Reverberating on the chords of their souls the words; go…witness…the King is come, are an urgent , unrelenting and enigmatic call. Even on the last league of the journey there is no release from the summons, only a pounding of expectation. The hidden councils of their hearts warming by the glow of a long neglected ember pulsing anew upon its altar.
Hope stands naked at the door of a stable, confounded by the regal heralding of such earthen extravagance. Ears, once attuned to the eternal, ripple with unexpected elation at the murmurings of an infant. A shiver of rapture showers through limbs heavy with stupefied wonder. These last steps come only at the behest of the whisper of Paternal pride; come…see…the King is here. Upon a bed of hay humble knees find their home and eyes too are drawn down to the babe wrapped in simplistic splendour. Here, eyes strained in their search of the heavens lock once again with the eyes that search the earth. In a moment the torrential flow of the centuries is released in solemn sobs.

Now, as before, is the communion.

Now, darkness knows fear, for this very night the light of the world has returned!

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Livingroom Concert

Cris and I had the privilege of going to a livingroom concert last night by Rik Leaf. It was hosted at Andrew Smith's place and was well attended by musicians and non (Me). There were many friends from all over Rik's life there and the atmosphere was very warm. Andrew and some others including his talented kids and Norm Strauss got in on the opening set and the music was soaring. To get a taste of what Andrew has been up to check out this CD. As the cover illustrates, Andrew's virtuoso on the guitar is rising to new heights. Apparently this is fondly admired by other musicians like Rik who during his set was struggling with a hideous mass of cords and cables twined between pedals and other assorted gear and blurted out from beneath his keyboards that
"If I could play an instrument like Andrew I wouldn't need all this crap!"

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Who Knew??

Got this through a friend's blogsite. Try it, you may be surprised and you may not. Truth be told I was actually not very surprised at the outcome, but it was fun. Now I know the deeper underpinings lurking beneath my Wesleyism.

You scored as Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan. You are an evangelical in the Wesleyan tradition. You believe that God's grace enables you to choose to believe in him, even though you yourself are totally depraved. The gift of the Holy Spirit gives you assurance of your salvation, and he also enables you to live the life of obedience to which God has called us. You are influenced heavly by John Wesley and the Methodists.

Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan


Neo orthodox




Reformed Evangelical




Roman Catholic




Classical Liberal


Modern Liberal


What's your theological worldview?
created with

Monday, June 13, 2005

The Hands Of God

It was a relatively good Sunday. A good day in the AM with the kids at home after working a half day on Saturday. This was followed by a good morning/afternoon at church. Linda Pallone was speaking and Kim Unrau was doing the MC'ing. They did a little tag teaming during the message and it worked great. The thing that hit me most profoundly though was when one of them said to close our eyes and ask God what was on His mind as He created Adam. As I closed my eyes there was a sudden rush that went through me as I saw, through my inner eyes, the Father shaping Adam. His fingers gently parting Adam's with His own fingers, sliding them in between and taking hold of his hand. A single divine finger spread out Adam's toes one by one and rounded them over with those cool little pads on the end of each one. This tickled and Father's heart wanted to see His son's smile so He gently ran His thumb across Adam's face and as the mouth opened to smile He breathed in the first breath of life. A gasp, a laugh and joy poured back out in response. Father ran His hand over His son's head a drew forth a great mane of hair. Yes He even reached down and set in order the parts which made Adam uniquely male. His hands caressed into being each and every portion of His son. I believe this is why we have skin over our whole body. It is an organ of sense and touch and it awoke to the touch of the Father on that day. It was spread out by His hand as He traced every muscle and sinew. It is the mantle of His abiding love and devotion for us. This moved me to tears.
You see, before this I had always had this picture of God being rather regal and apart as He spoke into being all of creation. Now with the rest of the created realm this is true, but of Adam it says:

7And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.

This means that with everything else He spoke it into being, but with Adam He actually got in there and got His hands dirty. He chose the dirt, He picked it up and fashioned it with His hands, He put His lips to the earth and breathed life into it. Of course He is still doing it today and it gives me shivers to think of the desire my Father has for me. Is life so, definitely not, my Father's abiding love is with me and always will be.

Monday, June 06, 2005

One For The Schup (You Know Who You Are)

I was at work today when a friend of mine asked me about something I had said earlier on in the conversation. There were three of us and much talk while we worked away on a basement renovation so I lost track of what it was I said. As I pondered it over the course of the day it finally came to me so I thought blogging it would be appropriate.
It started out from the statement that rock bottom is where we live. I came on this paradigm shift while working through some of my issues and it has stuck in my thinking ever since. It finds its basis in Romans 3:23 where the playing field is so famously leveled. When we come to a place in our life where we feel we have hit rock bottom we haven't actually fallen there, it is the place where we as humans exist. Even when I feel I am at the highest height I am still, in reality, at rock bottom. This is where the coolness starts.
Usually when we see someone at 'rock bottom' we think that it would be best if someone with the proper training and experience would deal with them rather than do it ourselves. We may even put on some gloves and protective clothing and help them get to that more qualified person. Now experience and training are great and essential tools as is the recognition that we may be in over our heads, but there is One who lives for these moments. One who lives for when the darkness is so thick that the soul pants for light. One who lives to go to the mat for those who are at rock bottom. Of course Christ died for us all, but not all of us see the need. All of us are at rock bottom, and it is in this most surreal place that our saviour meets us. Not after the house is cleaned up, but before we even know what needs to be cleaned up.
There will be a time when this revelation will truly hit home, and that is when we see Him face to face as He truly is. It is in the true knowing of who He is that we will truly know who we are. Apart from a deep and intimate knowledge of God we cannot know ourselves. It is akin to looking in a mirror with the lights off. Of course when the lights go on we are dazzled by the brilliance of it all. As the eye adjusts to the illumination the image in the mirror becomes clearer and we steadily see more and more of ourselves. If this gaze is long and steady we will grow as Paul did. He went from proclaiming that he was not less than the chiefest of the apostles to stating that he was the chiefest of sinners. The paradox is that in the perfect light of the love of Christ is the safest place to divulge and divest of our deepest darkness. What a Saviour. Truly there is none like Him in all the earth!!