I apologise for not finishing this sooner, but I actually took pen to paper to write the original and it has taken this long to get around to typing it out.
We are mocked publicly. On our own nation's channel, touting what is supposed to be our own Canadian view. Yet all we are presented with is a "mockumentary" of a ultraconservative view of sex. I cannot help but wonder if Mr. Martin's Canada would have aired this particular episode had his morally slanted legislation failed to pass. Some may say that I am going over the top here, but as a Canadian Christian I am tired of it. Tired of the thinly veiled mockery. I say let the lines be drawn and the arms be taken up. Now, for shit's sake, don't be thinking I am talking about AK47's at dawn or even open spewing of rants against homosexuals and others. This is about the passion which filled Phinehas' soul when he pinned the Israelite and Midianite woman together with his spear.
Have we forgotten this passion!! Again I say, for shit's sake this is not about violence in the flesh, but it is most assuredly about kicking some spiritual ass instead of taking it up the C-38. Have we forgotten the prisoners? Have we forgotten the war in exchange for pronouncing a misplaced peace? Do we say peace to the sin so that the sinner may be received, or do we kick sin's teeth in to free the captive? Remember that after Christ finished cleaning house with the pharisees that His apostles laid siege to the Gentiles giving them the same message of personal change (to put it lightly). We are so busy calling passion 'religion' that we have forgotten the purity with which our hearts were branded at the start. Perhaps the tip of Phinehas' javelin lies near our heart and it is easier to turn it aside in a mockery of holiness than to allow it to run us through, pinning us to the ground with our notions of love.
Now, before you go off thinking I am some superspiritual, always saved, overchurched, prude please understand this is so far from the truth. I have run in the night which casts its shadows on my heels. I have made my deals with the devil in the torment of loneliness. I have cried war on the heavens of brass. I have not forgotten.
What I remember most is the intolerable weight which finally crushed me. It wasn't easy love, which was offered at times. It wasn't an easy out which always slammed shut in the end. It was an offer of a place to lie down; finally. A place to stretch out in peace. A point of finally receiving the nails that would keep me there. It was a view of the sky that received my Christ from a bloody cross. The weight I had felt all along was love and mercy, and it ceaselessly crushed me till I allowed the nails to plunge through my flesh.
Let us never pray off the weight of the sweet cross of Christ.
Let us never stop the blow of the hammer. Let us never turn aside the blows of the scourge. Let us never fail to be at the tomb to unwind the graveclothes. Let us never fear to let them fall.