Monday, February 13, 2006

Dark have been my dreams of late.

I watched all three extended editions of Lord of the Rings in a row yesterday. I laughed, I cried, I remembered university, I fell in love with Faramir all over again...

What struck me most, however, was not Faramir's lovely eyes but how many times prophetic (OK, "future-shaping", to be P.C.) words were used; both good and evil used them to their advantage, and to their destruction.

The palantir (seeing stone) brought a false strength to Saruman, despair to Denethor, and a threat to Aragorn, but it's interesting to notice that none of what these characters expected happened. Saruman did not end up ruling Middle Earth on as Sauron's right-hand man, Denethor's city did not fall, and Arwen was not taken from Aragorn. Galadriel's pool was the same - a warning, only, of what would happen to the Shire if Frodo failed in his mission. Gandalf told the Balrog that "he shall not pass" and, technically, the Balrog never did. The Mouth of Sauron told Gandalf and Aragorn that Frodo had already died, but he hadn't. Etcetera.

I also noticed how often characters would "recite" prophetic words, whether they believed them or not, whether they helped their case or not, in times of trouble. Gandalf especially repeated the words "I have failed Frodo" often, which was a repetition of what Saruman had spewed at him, trapped and overpowered, from Isengaard. Gandalf took as prophecy, or truth, what was really just a reflection of what he feared most...and Saruman knew to exploit.

So where am I going with this...? [moment to regroup] Why do horoscopes "come true"? Why do high profile Christian "prophets" name and claim things that never happen? Where is the power of an All-Seeing, All-Knowing, Ever-Present God in the midst of a world consumed by the black, billowing heat of heartache and sin and depression and lonliness and hate?

Despite Gandalf's strenth and wisdom, Aragorn's heritage, Frodo's destiny, Denethor's position, Saruman's power, and Elrond's experience the two characters despaired the least were Arwen and Sam. An Elf princess who was being herded of into a ship for half the story, and a simple-minded Hobbit gardener. Arwen knew the ancient prophecies and stuck to them, claiming time and time again, "There is still hope." Sam made promise and stuck to it, loyaly following Frodo into Mordor. We often speculate that Frodo could not have successfully destroyed the ring without Aragorn's diversion at the Black Gate - but where would either of them be without Sam and Arwen?

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth...


Simple faith, simple loyalty, simple hope, simple love. Simply the only way to see past the present is to believe that there is a future - not necessarily one that the church tells us about, or what atheists tell us about, or what our horoscope tells us about - but one that is "immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us."

FRODO: I can’t do this, Sam.

SAM: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened.

But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer.

Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.

FRODO: What are we holding on to, Sam?

SAM: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Holy Communion

I attend one of the most spiritually radical churches Canada (perhaps the world) can boast, and I love it. It's when boasting itself becomes an issue that my stomach churns.

Today, I attended a Church of England (Anglican, to us Canadians) church in Nuneaton, called All Saints' Church, and was again struck by how the Spirit moves me when I sit in on a more traditional service. I used to visit St. Paul's Anglican, on Bloor Street in Toronto, with my great aunt Dodie when I was quite young. I distinctly remember being overwhelmed by the sound of the organ, bouncing off of the cold stone walls and up through the vaulted ceiling. When I was too young to take communion, Dodie would bring me up to the communion bench so that her priest and personal friend, Father Freeland, could pray a blessing over me. Later, Father Freeland was with us when we mourned Dodie's death in the same church, on a rainy day in March.

When my family and I moved to the Beach in Toronto we made St. Saviour's Anglican our home church for a number of months, in part to support Jess Cantelon, the youth pastor there at the time, and also to be a part of the intercession and community outreach that this small church was instigating in our neighbourhood. It was in that church that we met the Sunday following 9/11 to share our emotions and pray together for New York.

This morning, at All Saints', I was reminded of the "Anglican era" of my family's church-hopping and it made me grow quite protective of older, more traditional churches and denominations. If we are joint heirs with Jesus, and all of us are siblings, than I would suppose I was growing as defensive of Anglicanism, as an "older sibling" of mine, as I would of a natural-born sibling.

The words of the Book of Common Prayer, read this morning:
Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open,
all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid;
Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit...
Are they not Biblical? Do they not echo the lyrics of our contemporary worship songs?

And this hymn, written by by John S.B. Monsell (1811-1875):

Fight the good fight With all thy might;
Christ is thy Strength and Christ thy Right.
Lay hold on life, and it shall be
Thy joy and crown eternally.

Run the straight race Thro' God's good grace;
Lift up thine eyes and seek His face.
Life with its way before us lies;
Christ is the Path and Christ the Prize.

Cast care aside; Upon thy Guide
Lean, and His mercy will provide;
Lean, and the trusting soul shall prove
Christ is its Life and Christ its Love.

Faint not nor fear, His arms are near;
He changeth not, and thou art dear.
Only believe, and thou shalt see
That Christ is All in all to thee.

Does that not show us the gospel, in a glance? "Cast care aside; upon thy Guide lean, and His mercy will provide." Nice.

Attending an Anglican church regularly would drive me nuts, eventually, because it's not my launguage or my culture. I have a nosering, I brought a tea into service ("It's probably the first time someone has done that," Becky informed me.), I prefer the vaulted ceilings of the Avalon club of New York to worship, but I'm just the younger sibling.

Now hear ye hear ye want to see Thee more clearly
I know he hear me when my feet get weary
And bring the day that I'm dreaming about
Next time I'm in the club everybody screaming out
Jesus walks, Jesus walks with me
- Kanye West ("Jesus Walks")



Friday, February 10, 2006

Little Red Riding Hood

You should all be used to my bargain basement, self-psychoanalysis by now and, if not, this will make an excellent introduction.

It started with this picture, which I decided to entitle "Little Red Riding Hood", thanks to the wool and fur coat I got in Korea which has now become my signature winter look (and it matches my luggage). But the idea of Red Riding Hood wouldn't get out of my head, nor the song with the same title, nor the lyrics of said song:

Owoooooooo!
Who's that I see walkin' in these woods?
Why, it's Little Red Riding Hood.
Hey there Little Red Riding Hood,
You sure are looking good.
You're everything a big bad wolf could want.

Then I recalled a conversation I had with Anderson and Ken, at YWAM Sam's Inn in Amsterdam, three weeks ago. I had been describing the ideal man, in my own opinion, to these two learned, married guys and Ken began to poke fun. "So," he said, "you like the 'tortured, lonely, rebel' types, do you?"

No. No, I don't. I proceded to come up with a list of perfectly decent characters from books and movies that I like, but Heathcliff in Wutherine Heights, X-Men's Wolverine, Commodus in Gladiator (no, I'm not joking), Hamlet ("Are you serious?" protested Ken. "He's such a whiner."), Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre and Batman/Bruce Wayne didn't really bail me out. Dark men, dark pasts..."tortured, lonely, rebel" types.

Those who know me well won't be surprised by this conclusion, in fact, they've been telling me all along. However, to realize, at the age of 25, that you still fancy the Idealistic Dark Knight (I mean, really, would Wolverine make a good father?) is a bit of a blow.

So I decided to come up with a few good qualities of these characters:
  • They are not affected or persuaded by what society dictates.
  • They are not shallow.
  • They chose to love women who are intelligent and strong-willed.
  • They love those women with fierce loyalty.
Perhaps I'm only trying to convince myself. Perhaps I'm tired of chasing desperados. Tortured, lonely rebels don't always have room to spare to love someone else as much as they love their own tortured, lonely, rebellious selves.

And besides, the first and only literary and cinematic man to steal my heart is Gilbert.

DIANA: Don't you ever mean to get married?
ANNE: Perhaps. If I meet the right one.
DIANA: What about Gilbert?
ANNE:
Gilbert's just a chum. I don't care for him that way. You know what my ideal is, Diana.
DIANA: Tall, irresistibly handsome, proud, and melancholy. But people's ideals change sometimes.
ANNE: Mine wouldn't. And I wouldn't care for any man who didn't fulfill them.
DIANA: What if you never meet him?
ANNE: Then I shall die an old maid.

London Boiler Room







Click here to go to the City of London Boiler Room's blog.

Nuns on the River

Apparently, that's what the name "Nuneaton" stands for. Nuns. On a river. There used to be a covent in the area...near a river, I presume... The details are all pretty foggy, as I was told them yesterday, in a car, en route to the YWAM King's Lodge base after a full day of travel, meetings, and waiting around Euston station, London, for three and a half hours.

I also now know why it's called "luggage". I did more lugging over the past three days than I ever wanted to accomplish in a lifetime. I have huge muscles now. I'm a tank.

Staying with Sarah was, so far, the highlight of my trip to the UK - not merely because I was downtown London (and, as we all know, I heart the city) but because of how strongly God managed to (again) hijack my carefully scheduled plans and surprise me with gifts, dreams, visions, prayer, coincidences, and information. Scrumptious.

After visiting with Mark, Paul and Neil in Kingston (involved with something called Street Pastors in Kingston, as well as a few other incredible community-oriented initiatives) on Thursday, I took a train, subway, and another train to Nuneaton...with a three and a half hour stopover at Euston station, London. Ask me how unfun that was.

Now, at King's Lodge, I'm doing a lot of what I was doing at Holmsted which is a whole lot of nothing. Well, productively speaking. I'm responding to emails, loading pictures (check out my site for the London album, recently added), journalling, and praying.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

London Calling

I've moved yet again. I'm now situated in the region of Earl's Court tube station, central London. I'm staying with a great girl named Sarah Smith, whom I just met last Saturday. I have yet to meet Mark Rodger, who "introduced" us (via email) - that, most likely, will take place on Thursday in Kingston. Such is my current state of transience. I heart it!

The following has occurred in the past 24 hours:
  • I departed Shay and Duncan's home in Roehampton to catch the bus and subway to Old Street tube station.
  • I located the London Boiler Room [aside: if you are not already aware of the 24/7 Prayer movement that is currently rocking the UK, please take a moment now to school yourself]. Get this: it's on the corner of Worship and Tabernacle streets, down the road from The Prophet and The Angel pubs, and in the general area that John Wesley was when God stirred things up in the 18th century...God has a sense of humour, hm?
  • I was able to meet with Jude Smith, the "abbess" of the London Boiler Room, over tea, to discuss the push we have both been feeling (and the similarities between TACF, 24/7 Prayer, and YWAM's new visions). Jude's quote: "Aslan's on the move." Nicely put.
  • Sarah Smith, two others named Sandy (works for London's clubbing industry) and Simon, and myself joined in prayer for the clubbing prayer/worship dream that God has put on Sarah's heart and many others'. Lots of confirmations, shared sentiments, identical verses, and other links. God is so creative and amazing!
  • Sarah and I came back to her apartment (where I will be staying until Thursday) and, as I was getting ready for bed, she tucked a copy of Pete Greig's book Red Moon Rising, which I was told about by Rhonda Puddle (get THIS: Rhonda works at and attends TACF, and I know her from YWAM Cambridge...is this fun, or what?) just days before I left for the UK, under the blankets of the spare bed for me. Inscription: "To Sarah H, with much love from Sarah S". Did I mention that I just met Sarah three days ago?
  • I then discovered that the foreward in Red Moon Rising was written by...Floyd McClung. Renowned YWAMer. I had to laugh.

Exhausted, after having lugged my suitcase up three flights of stairs (66 steps...I counted today) to Sarah's flat, I fell asleep completely overwhelmed by the wonder and excitement of the life God has blessed me with.

Have fun clicking on all those links!

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Blog Tag

Sweeping the blogging nation....

4 jobs I have held:
  1. Hostess for a fancy Italian restaurant in the Beaches, Toronto. Fun job, until one of the employees approached me asking for a loan in order to skip town to Mexico in order to avoid the cops who were after him in regards to a deal involving fire arms and plutonium.
  2. Worked at a bakery. It went under. Was hired by another bakery. It, too, went under. Decided I was bad luck for bakeries.
  3. Event Coordinator for the Television Bureau of Canada.
  4. TESL teacher for Korean children.

4 movies I can watch over and over:

  1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
  2. Amelie
  3. Anne of Green Gables
  4. The Matrix

4 places I have lived:

  1. Newmarket, Ontario.
  2. West Sussex, England.
  3. India.
  4. Pyongchon, South Korea.

4 TV shows I love to watch:

  1. Friends
  2. Sex & The City (don't judge me...I love the fashion...and Aidan Shaw)
  3. Seinfeld
  4. Lost

4 places I have been on vacation:

  1. New York, New York.
  2. Montreal, Quebec.
  3. Frenchtown, New Jersey.
  4. Fort Myers, Florida.
Strange how the countries I go to for ministry purposes are much more exotic than the places I go for "vacation"...

4 of my favourite dishes:

  1. Swiss Chalet chicken.
  2. Pad thai.
  3. Sushi (yes, AJ, raw fish is where it's at...).
  4. Big, thick, fat, juicy steak.

4 websites I like to visit daily:

  1. Google.
  2. Nik's blog.
  3. Andrea's blog.
  4. apple.com/trailers

4 places I would rather be right now:

  1. Queen Street West, Toronto.
  2. On the beach of Koh Samet, Thailand.
  3. In my kitchen with my mom, drinking tea.
  4. In Kate's car, driving...anywhere.

4 people I am tagging:

  1. Andrea Schaaf.
  2. Nikolas Delic.
  3. Andrew Rennie.
  4. You.
Leave a comment here of your blog link if you end up doing this...it will be fun to read others' answers.