Religion & Spirituality

Feature

Re-thinking unforgiveness


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I’ve never seen anyone leave.

The preacher would say,

“if you’re offering your gift at the altar and remember that your brother or sister has something against you, or you against them, leave your gift and go and be reconciled to them”

Or something along those lines, a paraphrased Matthew 5:23-24. Often “gift” was worship, and the congregation were implored to take serious the business of unforgiveness.  Still I never saw anyone leave.

After a quick mental check and finding no unforgiveness within I quickly tune out waiting for the service to move on. And this was the pattern that repeated whenever the issue of unforgiveness was raised, you see I’m a pretty laid back-easygoing-live & let live kind of guy, how could I have an issue with unforgiveness?…

Until I did.  Until that face.

One day I was praying and the word “unforgiveness” kept coming up in my mind and I’d keep trying to dismiss it, because as we’ve already established I’m pretty Saintly. So as I pondered & prayed this persons face kept coming up (in my mind, not a saintly-I’m having visions kind of way), and while I was busy convincing myself I had no issues with forgiveness, it started to dawn on me that I had a bit of a bad attitude towards them.

Which got me thinking about other people I had  bad attitudes towards.

Which got me thinking about negative attitudes in general and what causes them.

A negative attitude grows from a slight (perceived or real) done to you or towards someone else, that you have taken exception to.

Think about it. That guy you play sport against who you think is a bit of a dick because of…., that politician who said that thing about those people, that lady at work who never says “hello” to you…

A negative attitude grows from a slight (perceived or real) done to you or towards someone else, that you have taken exception to…

Isn’t that the definition of unforgiveness?

It’s time to let go.

inspirational-quote-set-prisoner-free

Feature

A New Years word: saying no to resolutions


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I fail at new years resolutions.

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Numerous articles suggest we all do. Maybe it’s personality type, maybe I just get discouraged and give up easily, who knows.

As part of my job I’m involved in a lot of goal setting, our goals are meant to be SMART, Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, Timed. Like a lot of business-religious-educational acronyms,  some of the acronyms letters seem to only be included to spell a cool word, aren’t achievable & realistic(relative, relevant, result-focused) the same, why would we set a goal that wasn’t relative or relevant? But SMAT doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it.

Maybe I fail at my new years resolutions because I don’t treat acronyms with the hallowed reverence they deserve.

In the past when it came to resolutions I’d get a little carried away, apparently this says something about me as well (personality types & myers briggs) I’d end up with lot’s, achieve very little, forget about them by February, remember one or two half way through the year & officially give up on them. A lot of my goals were about things I thought I needed to do more of or do better. Fitness, weight, the classic christian read my bible & pray more… And it didn’t matter how SMART  I was with them, they always became Stupid Heavy Irrelevant Tedious goals.

Instead I’ve stumbled (sorry I don’t recall where) on to something else that works for me, it flys in the face of Deconstructionist (break every thing down) SMART. It may work for you, it may not.

So instead of a goal I pick a word I want to live by for the year, think of it as a focus, motto, heartbeat, ethos, breath….

What word do I want to breathe this year.

This will be my 4th year of choosing a word in the past I’ve chosen Sabbath, Thrive, Create. Last year my brother-in-law chose ‘Present’, an excellent choice, being present, being in the moment. I don’t recall what word my Dad chose but I was encouraged that the concept had worked for him & he was doing it again this year.

Sometimes it’s tempting to chose lots of words, I find if I have a couple I can’t decide between, one eventually falls to the side. Sometimes – like last year – I wanted to choose a task as a word. The problem for me is that tasks, no matter how noble, become chores, work, an obligation, they drain my energy.

Where as a heartbeat word, a ‘breathe’ word, is life giving.

How does this work? One year I chose ‘Thrive’, unlike a narrow smart goal, ‘Thrive’ covers a broad range of life. My word was a question, Thrive: does this help me thrive?

It may just be semantics or devilish-mind-trickery but ‘Thrive’ was positive & life giving for me, instead of “you must be skinnier no more junk food you fatty” goals, it was as simple as does this help me thrive? Got some spare time on my hands – Thrive – what will be life giving for me to do in this space of time I find myself with.
The real bonus of a word for me is it’s easy to remember, it’s just one word, but it covers so much more than a 100 goals. Sabbath was about rest, being still, acknowledging God, it was also discipline & intentionality.

Last year I went with ‘Create’ I wanted to choose ‘Write’ but write is more task orientated & ‘Create’ is freedom. Creating space to be creative, Create was about acknowledging where I get my energy from, looking for a creative approach to work/problem solving, writing, poems, painting, making videos, cooking more, creating with healthier food….

Even if I do forget my word or make poor choices I can still come back to it, because Thrive/Create starts every day, it’s not the classic “read your bible in a year-plan-oh-no-im-6-months-behind-give-up-futility”.

This year my Wife & I have chosen ‘Wellbeing’, we wanted a word that could embrace the various areas of our lives holistically.  So that’s my word for the year, have fun discovering yours…

Discovery now that’s an excellent word.

blogosphere

Evangelicalism, You Have Traumatized Me


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Evangelicalism, you have made your people defend a book, but not the marginalized in front of them. You have blinded them with your judgements. You have made them so hungry for power, that they want nothing to do with the powerless. You have turned them into the oppressors. You have made it all about the next life, while ignoring this one. Your people pray, sing, maintain their holiness, but what they don’t see is that this is turning them into white-washed tombs. They don’t realize that righteousness is justice. Holiness is defending the powerless and taking care of the least of these. You have made it all about themselves.

You still have some honest, good people within your religion, but you must release them from your bondage. You must give them the freedom to be messy, to question, to love, to do justice, to give mercy, to be kind and gentle. You must step aside and let them see Jesus, and to be Jesus.

Evangelicalism, you have traumatized us enough. Maybe you are the one who is traumatized. It is time to examine your fruit. It is time to heal, so that you may bring healing.

Exerts from the a blog post entitled “Evangelicalism, you have traumatized me” from Robert Lofgren

Feature, News

Enter the Void – the year that was


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I believe in world peace.

I believe that all men are created equal.

I believe in the Force, America, freedom, the Tooth Fairy, a bearded man in the sky, Jesus Christ.

 

Beliefs are cool but in the words of Tyrion Lannister,

“words are wind.”

 

They say faith without works is dead, and I’ve often felt that to believe something you need to be living it. Otherwise you just like the idea.

But what happens if that “living it” takes over. What if that action becomes the only sign of faith, does it just become empty ritual… and how can you tell?

How can you tell when you’re so caught up in the doing that you’ve stopped being.

When you’re more Martha than Mary.

How can you tell when the things you do sneakily become  the relationship you have, instead of overflowing from it. And does the fact that I even have to ask a sign things aren’t right?

 

What seems like an eternity ago I embarked on some travels, part discovery, part losing things along the way, part chasing dreams & passions. A journey which saw me hanging out with the houseless in Hawaii, and sharing tears in Palestine.

A journey which saw me stop writing. A little bit awkward if you keep a blog.

And in amongst the travel weariness, shameless self promoting selfies, new experience buzz, innocence lost insight, humanity rediscovered, crisis uncovered, laughter, tears, solitude and connection, was an invitation to enter the void.

 

I would summerise my faith journey this year as an invitation to enter the void. The laying down of things near and dear to me, let the chips fall where they may.

I started writing this post early 2014. I’ll finish it in 2015. Apart from a couple of YouTube videos, quotes & previously unpublished poems, I only wrote one post last year. And while very little of what I write sees the light of day I pretty much wrote nothing of anything.

I didn’t read much either, I made no videos, I didn’t volunteer, I didn’t go to church.

In fact I lost all desire to do any of these things, which was a little bit strange.

Concerning even, if I thought to hard enough about it.

 

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Yet I felt strangely at peace with this invitation to emptiness, as if it were ok to be on this journey. Some how comfortable with the uncomfortable, or at least at peace with the process… whatever that might be.

Like rehabbing an injury, things aren’t right but one day will be.

Last year I attended a friends exhibition and was really moved buy the powerful stories and imagery, so much so that I bailed early, it made me think about my own travels, the people I’d encountered and their messed up situations. Maybe 2014 was the year I chose to shut down a bit instead of being overwhelmed by the worlds problems and my inability change things.

As 2015 begins I find a rekindled energy for some of my passions, a desire to read, to write, to create. I’m looking forward to finding and committing to a faith community, but that may depend on where I end up living. Somethings I don’t think I’ll ever resume, their time has past and I’m happy to let them go.

 

Love & Breathe. Here’s to doing coming from being.

Let-Go-Let-God

 

poetic

hallowed


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behind a tranquil monastery is a boundary of forestry hiding a barbed-wire monstrosity

a church safe cursed by a razor-wire crown of thorns

we must protect our truth, sanctified and clean

like we set the standard for what clean is

hide your light under a bushel

unless it’s sanitized and superficial

poetic

Culturanity


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Supermarket-church snap-frozen-reheated greetings, cookie-cutter-christians rehearsed prayers and scripted meetings

Yahweh’s speechless we’ve hijacked his voice and branded it like sneakers,spread the brand globally sweatshop-manufactured-ministry, unethical in our political standing on others to maintain our status quo

checkered shirts, buzz words, clap for yourself ignore the helpless, it’s you who commands and god who follows, enslaved by his own words pages of grace turned into spiritual laws and promises

a world void of colour and complexity, 40-days of formulaic-faith-paint-by-numbers-christianity

we’ve robbed the God of creation his creativity, denied his mystery, trapped him in a black and white box of simplicity

is it any wonder he doesn’t flow through me…

when kingdom looks so different from this brand of culturanity

adventures

Bourbon faced on sh!t street


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After four days in Springfield I arrive in New Orleans for 2 nights & 1 day, much like Vegas… Bourbon Street is also much like Vegas, just on a much smaller scale.

And while you have the same guys standing outside strip clubs encouraging you to “take a break for boobies” there seems to be a lot more culture to Nola. I’m crashing at India House hostel (a very cool hip funky hostile, neat space).

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The Blur that is Bourbon street

After a decent walk to Bourbon St – I’d later figure out the tram system – I found a sweet sports bar called Bayou Burger, they do these amazing Kettle chips covered in blue cheese sauce, and I had an Alligator burger (because I could), tasted a little bit like minced pork/rabbit.

After that I ended up in a tiny jazz bar listening to some 50-60 old musicians make magic happen, met a couple of girls who’d just moved to New Orleans, we hung out at a very cool, yet crazy karaoke bar (that’s a sentence you’ll never hear me repeat) called The Cat’s Meow.

Wandered a little.

Caught the sunrise. Caught some Zzzzz’s.

The next day was pretty chilled. I wandered around a few areas that still had abandoned housing, much like some of Christchurch’s post-earthquake east-side, except the greenery was doing it’s best to envelope a few places.

Later in the evening I was walking through an area where the windows all had cages on the outside, storm proofing I thought, until I noticed that they were only on the ground floor windows… umm does this mean I’m no longer in a “safe” neighborhood?

I talk to some houseless people who’ve taken up residence at night under an overpass, they get chased off during the day. It seems a few have also taken to using abandoned houses when they can, but it’s hard for their presence to go unnoticed. They’re aware this can’t go on forever as housing is rebuilt or pulled down, the constant battle with the greenery a summer fire risk. I see none around Bourbon Street, they’re not welcome there.

On my way back I stop in for another Bayou burger before heading down Bourbon St one last time, then home, still Zzz’s to catch up on & an early flight in the morning.

Moment that best describes Bourbon Street

I exit a bar, a few tourist are stumbling down the road with fluorescent green grenades (that they’re drinking out of),  to the right a trumpet band are putting on a show, across the road is a place for live sex shows, a family pushes a stroller along an evening walk…

to the left a man with a bull-horn is yelling something, behind him are a couple of old laddies & another guy holding a big white cross, it has a red LED display scrolling words along the centre, I make out “hell” and something about “eternal damnation”. Behind them is another guy with a bull-horn facing and yelling in the opposite direction, some guys are doing the “party-boy” dance with him,. He yells louder.

I wonder if their message is heard, I’m left guessing as to what it might be.
I ask to take a photo, they say ok along as I’m not putting a video on Youtube (grandma is clearly with it).

WP_001597_editedShe wants to say a prayer for me.

side note. I have no problem with anyone from any form of spirituality wanting to pray for me, it’s led to some pretty special conversations, such as the first night I arrived in San Fransisco & a woman wanted to read my palm, initially I declined, then it ended up raining & we shared the same souvenir-shop-canopy for shelter.

Bourbon Street: I’m standing in the middle of the street with an old lady praying for me, with bullhorns, cross, strollers, sex show, trumpets…. and nothing seems out of place or odd to anyone.

Welcome to Bourbon street. Definitely crazier than Vegas.

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adventures

Caged Love


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Spent the day walking around San Francisco, from the Wharfs to Mission District up to the twin peaks to catch the sunset.

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In my travels I noticed that a lot of the doorway entrances have a caged door as well…

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and then I noticed some churches do too…

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and then I noticed not just doorways but little enclaves & places of shelter were caged off…

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and then I found this man in an alleyway…

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and right across the road was this church…

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it had a large sheltered area that would be perfect for alley-man to sleep & shelter in.

 

It may even make a difference in whether he lives or dies tonight.

 

I want to ask a question, so I find an entrance. On the way I see the churches slogan on a big sign,

Relationship. Not Religion.

 

I ask, “why do I see so many areas caged off?”. The answer it seems is because homeless people would take up residence there. “Is this why you guys have a caged area too?”, He looks awkward, a lady pipes up, “You have to remember we have to keep it clean for Sunday”.

I ask her if she knows a homeless guy died from the cold the other night, that he is the 5th in the last 2 weeks. She tells me if they let a few homeless stay (in the courtyard) soon there would be lots & they have families that come on Sunday.

He tells me they’re busy & I have to go now, I thank them for their time, I’m just trying to make sense of it all…

Wouldn’t God be appalled if our courtyards were dirty.

Heaven forbid we became known as a church where the least & disadvantaged seek shelter, or where faith was raw & real for our families, rather than disinfected-white-washed-sanitised-sunday-school-lives.

Lets do some simple math. There are easily a 120+ people there, that would mean committing 1 day every 2 months where you & another person cleaned up & served the homeless that gathered in your courtyard…

 

who knows, maybe then the words of your slogan would come to life…

maybe then it would stop being religion,

and start being relationship.