Ben's blatherings

Book sightings for Mr. Ward

2009-06-11T20:49:00.000-07:00

So, Dayton Ward is a science fiction writer I like quite a bit. Over at his website, he put forward this challenge. I've decided to take it up with gusto.

This past week and a bit, I've traveled by Greyhound to Saskatoon (from Toronto) for the annual meeting of Mennonite Church Canada. Congregations from all over the country send their pastors and other members to meet each other as a national body, approve the denomination budget, and vote on any proposals that come up. It was my first time going, and it was pretty crazy. I met lots of people. I also figured there was no way Dayton was going to get anyone else sending him pictures of his book at a Canadian Conference of Mennonites. So I've gotta get some points for originality. Pics will be much more effective if you click through.

First up...

My room. Yes, it's messy as anything. I'm working on it. Yes, it's childish. Being a full time volunteer, I'm living at home right now, and packrat that I am, I can't quite get rid of the childish things. (Working on it too). But I find this pic is a delightful 'Where's Waldo' of my geeky passions. Open Secrets is in there somewhere. (Eek... as well as one book I'm very ashamed of... Hadn't realized it was in the frame)

My luggage. I didn't end up reading Warped on the trip.... Started it, but my other books were more compelling, and I dropped it two chapters in.

Here we have two pics of "Open Secrets" in White River, in some ways the origin point of 'Winnie the Pooh'. I tried to get the book in Winnie's hands, or somewhere near him but the statue was too slippery.

This is Terry, a guy I met on the Greyhound bus. He's an engineer who works on skyscraper roofs. He changed a light on the outside of the CN Tower during a windstorm. I figure that's hardcore enough to get his photo taken with Open Secrets.

This is 'Open Secrets' modeling the latest in Christian Peacemaker Teams fashions. This particular hat spent a fair bit of time in Hebron. (David Mack and Christopher Bennett can both be indirectly blamed for me joining this organization. Hm... I kinda want to get a pic of the entire Destiny trilogy decked out in CPT hats now...)

This here is Robert "Jack" Suderman. He's the closest thing we Canadian Mennonites have to a pope. He's the general secretary of the board. Whatever that means. He's a big cheese among Mennos. And he's holding Open Secrets.

This is my table group! At the conference everyone was divvied up into tables for smaller group discussions. (There were about 300 of us in total, I think.) I'm the youngish looking guy on the right. There were only about 10 of us under 30 in the whole joint.

These are all the books I brought for the Greyhound trip. I didn't end up (re)reading the Jordan ones or the Bourne Identity. I also picked up two more (Naomi Klein's Shock Doctrine and Thinner) at a thrift store for 50 cents each on the way back.

I don't actually remember her name... but we ended up having a really in-depth discussion about the Star Trek movie, and I had the camera and book with me, so I thought, why not.

The above was taken the last night of the conference. The pics from here on out are of an optional 'Aboriginal Learning Tour' through Saskatchewan that about 21 Mennonites went on.

This was taken at the top of the most interesting small town museum I've ever been in. The museum has a giant tower in it, and makes very good use of the different landings and levels. Open Secrets is enjoying the view overlooking Duck Lake, a small town North of Saskatoon that experienced some action in Louis Riel's meti resistance.

These two high school students were our guides through the museum. They're also members of the group 'ActNOW'. It's a school group run by students and teachers being very proactive about addressing racism in their school. The group has won a lot of social action awards, and students from the group do seminars on undoing racism for other students and adults across the country.

Open Secrets is being stylish on a desk in Batoche. An old town turned historic national park. Batoche was the centre of Louis Riel's resistance. The battle fought here was lost, and Riel was imprisoned, and later executed for treason.

And here, Open Secrets is getting rather flirtatious with the guide who showed us around the place.

Open Secrets is learning how Metis women used to prepare buffalo.

Open Secrets is about to take a ride on a ferry across the Saskatchewan river. I'd never seen anything like this before. The ferries are considered part of the highway, and free for anyone to use.

This is my friend Rita, on the ferry. The thing was attached to overhead cables. There was only one worker there, and the ferry closed for her lunch and dinner breaks.

Open Secrets is finding out whether skinned skunk still smells like skunk - while at the same time chillaxing on a buffalo skin. We're now in Fort Carlton, a provincial park that recreates an old trading post.

Here, our guide is trying to figure out which weighs more. Open Secrets, or dried beaver scent glands. Our guide was a jack of all trades. When not showing Mennonite big shots (or grade four students) around trading posts, he farms, pastors, and teaches at a local college.

Open Secrets is enjoying the view from the top of Fort Carlton.

This is Harry Lafond, executive director of the office of the treaty commissioner of Saskatchewan I've tried a couple times to type a summary of what that is... It'd probably be easier to click through to the link.

Here, Open Secrets is pondering with me ethical situations such as the use of Agent Orange (manufactured in the facility behind us) in Vietnam.

I found a curious traveler along the way on a sound barrier in Saskatoon. I offered him Open Secrets. He was flattered, but not interested.

This didn't turn out quite the way I wanted it to... The mural was absolutely incredible, and went on for quite a ways.

Open Secrets: The Book decided to spend some quality time with Open Secrets: The Song. (You have to click through to be able to see the song)

And here is me on the last page of Open Secrets. I know, I was going to read it on the Skyride, but temptation got the best of me. I couldn't take it everywhere on the trip with me, and then NOT read it. Especially after rereading Reap the Whirlwind and having Open Secrets right there beside me. I'll just have to pick a different one for on the skyride. Dayton, any suggestions? Would "Last World War" or "The Genesis Protocol" be better for reading while peacefully floating through the air. (Video is not mine.)

New Sermon

2009-03-23T08:12:00.000-07:00

My pattern so far has been to post my sermons on my blog. My most recent sermon's a bit more personal, and I don't want to put it out for everyone in the wide world to see. If you're interested in reading it, send me an e-mail, or leave a comment and it'll find its way to you.

25 Things.

2009-02-07T08:00:00.000-08:00

1. I'm constantly wanting to blog, but can never seem to get it done. When I look at things I've written, I'm quite happy with them, but I can still never seem to get the ball rolling and get myself writing in volume. Maybe caving into this 25 thing will get my juices flowing.

2. A large part of why I'm uncomfortable blogging is because I become aware of everyone that could be reading it. When I write, or even have conversations with people I want to be able to be vulnerable. I want to be able to share myself. When I'm blogging, I have much less control than I'd like, and that makes me nervous. I've already nixed a bunch of things I was thinking of putting down as one of my '25 things' because I've realized there are people on my friends list that I don't want knowing certain things. I don't like thinking that way.

3. I really loved Chicago. At the same time, it made me very uncomfortable. It's very, very segregated. But man, the buildings, the people, the train. After visiting a bunch of big cities, I've gotta say, I enjoy Chicago the most. It really felt like if I looked up, I might see a superhero flying by. It's that kinda town. Much more so than New York, or D.C. (or, sigh... Toronto.)

4. I really hope at some point in my life the little niggling voice in the back of my head calling me a fake will shut the fuck up.

5. That being said, I'm really happy being me. I've got my foibles. I've got my things about myself that I wish were different, that I wish were easier to change... But... I really do enjoy being me. If you told me during high school that I'd say this, I don't think I'd believe you... but I'm very glad I'm me. I have a lot of fun in this body, in this head.

6. I think #4 is the first time I've cursed publicly on Facebook. Maybe even the internet at large. Feels kind of liberating.

7. #6 was originally something different that I've deleted.

8. I want to be a vegetarian, but I enjoy meat way too much, and I don't enjoy eating most vegetables. I really ought to just buck up and do it. I'm sure over time I'd come to appreciate vegetables more.

9. I wish I knew my grandfather. He died before I was born. When my dad was my age, his dad was dead. I learned a lot about my grandpa in the past week, reading letters and editorials he wrote. If I ever start actually blogging, I've got an entry about him rolling around in my head, waiting to come out.

10. I hated being supervisor at Centreville. Absolutely hated it. I learned a lot. I learned SO much, so I can't say I wish I'd never done it. But man... some people are just not meant for management. I'm not. There's other ways I can contribute to society. Earlier today I talked to Jeff, gave my official 'I ain't coming back' notice. It felt very, very good. Best of luck to whoever takes over.

11. I'm very good at meeting people I want to meet. Especially writers. I love going into the science-fiction/fantasy section of a bookstore with someone and just pointing out the various writers I've met, or at least had e-mail contact with. "I met that one, and I've e-mailed back and forth with that one, and I had an hour long coffee with that guy, and I got that one to send a personal happy birthday message to my girlfriend at the time, and that one came to my workplace, and I gave them a tour." Frikkin awesome.

12. I still have Geoff Sadlier's Halo soundtrack and Warcraft Three. I really, really, really need to get those back to him.

13. I miss being in college. That's not quite right... I miss the connections I made while in college. I still occasionally try and think up life paths that'll lead me back there, so that I can spend more than one or two weeks a year out West.

14. If I ever do get married, Finbar's gonna be the best man.

15. Sometimes there's nothing more in the world that I want to do than kiss someone. Or just hold someone's hand. Or cuddle. It's been a while. And I don't feel lonely or desperate or anything. At least... not for more than a couple minutes every once in a while, anyway... but it'd be nice to have companionship of the 'not only friends' variety.

16. I have ridden the entire Chicago Rail Transit System. Every line, every stop. It was awesome, and surprisingly therapeutic. I wish Toronto's subway was elevated through downtown.

17. I may or may not delete 15 and replace it with something else before I post this.

18. I wish I wouldn't get upset when my mother shows concern for me.

19. My dad is one of my best friends. I love that I can say that.

20. I want to explore Toronto more than I do... It feels like I know the neighbourhoods of Manhattan more than I do my own city... I haven't been to High Park in years, and years, and years. I could probably count on my hands the number of times I've been to Kensington Market. I hardly ever go West of Bathurst. West of Yonge, I rarely go North unless for business. This needs to change.

21. I watched the Super Bowl on Sunday. I had no idea that watching football could be so much fun! It was an awesome game, and my first time watching a football game from beginning to end. Even though I wanted Arizona to win, I feel more than satisfied with the whole experience. Even without American Super Bowl commercials!

22. I'm not good at preserving friendships when I'm not around. Which really sucks, being the nomadic, constantly moving around guy that I am. But at least when I come back, the friendships have always still been there. So far.

23. I have ridden Vortex at Canada's Wonderland 20 times in a row without getting up out of my seat. It was amazing. I still remember the look of the light of the sunset shining on the mountain, getting a glimpse of the beautiful sunset itself for one brief second as the roller coaster turned the corner at top of the mountain, then plunging down. After that, watching the night get darker and darker while riding again, and again, and again. With the way Wonderland's gotten busier since that summer 7 years ago, I don't know if I'll *ever* be able to do that again. Here's hoping.

24. This one's kind of grim... but as a CPTer, I'm supposed to think about messages to leave for people if I get taken hostage, or killed in the line of peacework. I've somewhat seriously thought about recording a plea to Joss Whedon to be sent to him in the event of my death, asking him to continue Firefly somehow in my memory.

25. I'm about to embark on another three-day Greyhound journey. They can be hit or miss. Sometimes I meet lots of crazy awesome people, (like in my blog entry from over a year ago) sometimes I just sit on the bus and read and sleep for three days. I hope this is one of those crazy-awesome times. I'm in a friend-making mood.

2008-11-05T06:30:00.000-08:00

...

I don't know how to start this...

These past couple days... I've never experienced ANYthing like this.
The excitement, the hope, the passion, the anticipation.
Being surrounded by Americans waiting to hear Obama to speak in Virginia, just feeling the electricity sparking through the crowd.
Hanging out in a bar in D.C with my hostel buddies, surrounded by locals going crazy (with a girl who works for a political organization at the next table exlplaining the ins and outs of everything that was happening. And after the win...

The streets of DC erupted. It was like a sports win, but even more so. Cars racing, honking through the streets, people running and jumping up and down and cheering. We went to the street in front of the white house, and it was just packed. Every age, every ethnicity, every sociala class just coming together and celebrating. People were hugging me and jumping into my arms. People were shaking each others hands, almost in tears, just thanking them for having voted. People were singing. It was like a protest, but instead of everyone being angry, everyone was overjoyed. We sang Goodbye to Bush, we were chanting 'Yes We Did'. It was overwhelming. It was amazing. It was everything and more of what I was hoping for in coming to DC during the election.

I know Obama ain't perfect. I know he's no Messiah figure, and things aren't going to change as much as I'm hoping as fast as I'd want.

But.

But. The way this election brought people together astounds me. Everyone I've talked to here is so proud to have voted, so happy, so on fire for being a part of the process. I saw men in suits debating politics with a homeless man, I saw... man, it was awesome.

In other news, I've discovered I really don't care all that much for the history of Air and Space... (that museum was a bit of a dud for me.) But the 'Newseum' absolutely fascinated me. The Newseum is probably my favourite place in DC now. I'll write more about it another time.

DC - day one.

2008-11-02T19:19:00.001-08:00

This is gonna be a CRAZY week.

New York was for the culture and people of the city.

Pennsylvania was for family.

DC is gonna be hanging out with crazy travellers.

My first night in, I'm hanging out with this guy who's an amazing spraypaint artist. He's selling his art on the streets of DC - I might be his assistant for a day. He's absolutely off his rocker, but we've really hit it off. I also make friends with this guy who's absolutely obsessed with ADD. He has it himself, and is... well, I won't go into details, but he's fascinating.

I spent most of today at various monuments and the Holocaust memorial, but the real highlight was this evening, going to a free concert in the National Art Gallery with a bunch of other people from my hostel. The concert was nuts. 16th century chamber music, with quite graphically sexual songs mixed in with the praise songs. "I want to make love to you all night. I'll thrust you like a ram" "If we had 45 beds, we'd use them all up. We'd destroy them with the force of our lovemaking" All in Italian and Dutch and French of course.

A bunch of us went for a couple drinks afterwards. I convinced everyone to go to a local brewpub. It was no C'est What, that's for sure. D.C's supposed to have some great beer hidden away somewhere in the city. Hopefully I'll find it before I go.

Tomorrow, I'll be tagging along with the painter. The day after that is election day. Apparently Georgetown University will be a great place to watch election results, so a bunch of us from the hostel are going to head down there. Pictures soon!

Update.... NYC through Penn

2008-11-02T19:11:00.000-08:00

Whoo.... s'been a while.

Rest of New York: Highlight - spending a couple hours talking to a Hare Krishna monk. Awesome guy, and I hope I run into him again some day.

Pennsylvania: Wow, I'd forgotten how awesome my extended family was. I had an absolutely fantastic week catching up with Aunts and Uncles and cousins. I spent most of my time with my uncle Dan and aunt Mim in suburban Lancaster, a couple days with my aunt Lois and uncle Tom - who brews his own beer. I biked through beautiful farmland, startled a couple cows, ate the best pretzel of my life, hiked up a small mountain, spent more time with a house cat than ever before, volunteered for the Obama campaign, saw the church my grandpa preached at, saw the motel my grandpa built, watched a ballet, and visited a life size model of a wilderness tabernacle.

I also really felt part of a bloodline. Everyone I met out there told me I looked just like a Wert - and everyone compared me to my cousin Doug. I also got to see my cousins Doug, Cindy and Heidi - it's been years and years since I've seen any of them. I sat down and chatted with Cindy for an hour... I don't think I've ever spent that sort of one on one time with her before.

I also got to meet Heidi's kids. One for the first time, the other for the first time since she was... only a couple months old, I think... Maybe a year...

All in all, it was an amazing week. NYC was fun and memorable... this was family, and important.

NYC Days 4 + 5.

2008-10-21T15:45:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was... how to describe it?

Coming to New York, I was going to be a tourist. There's no going around it. I'm an outsider who's come to see what it's like being in the big city. But I didn't want to be a typical tourist. I wanted to see things differently, go at it from a different angle. And yesterday was about as untypical a day as I could have had, I think.

It started off normally enough. I did some more of my walking tours, checking out SoHo. I didn't realize what an impact Jane Jacobs had had on downtown Manhattan. Go local team! But it also made me sad. So much of what I was reading in the guidebook was 'This awesome place used to be here, and that awesome place used to be there, until tourists brought in boutique shops and high rents pushed all the cool people away.' SoHo had awesome architecture. More Cast Iron buildings still standing there than anywhere else in the world. But where it was once a neighbourhood for starving artists, it - like pretty much all of Manhattan - is now a playground for the super rich.

After, I did another self guided tour of Greenwich Village. A lot of the names of writers I wasn't familiar with, but one of the items on the tour was the house that Edgar Allen Poe lived in. I was quite to excited to see it, but when I got there, there was a giant boring looking building - an extension of NYU's law school. A reconstructed facade of 'The Poe House was a part of the structure... but inside was just a non-descript white room with some glass cases filled with memorabilia. I was quite upset, and wasn't sure I wanted to do the rest of the tour, if all I was going to see was reconstructions and sites where the actual building had been torn down. The next stop on the tour was 'The Provincetown Playhouse', where the playwright Eugene O'Neill got his start, among many, many others. This place was still up, but with demolition orders on it, and scaffolding surrounding it. On the other side of the street was a group of people protesting the demolition. They handed me a sign, and I joined in, spending the morning chanting chants and hearing speeches about the culture of the city. It was incredible. I think I was the only non-local of the bunch. Reverend Billy, of the Church of No Shopping was there, as well as a bunch of people struggling against the gentrificationi and Disneyfication of the city.

After the protest, I had lunch with Reverend Billy. He's an actor who uses the role of bombastic pentecostal preacher to preach against consumerism. It's something to watch... I haven't seen it myself, but there's a documentary that follows him and his 'choir'. It's called 'What Would Jesus Buy', produced by Morgan Spurlock, of 'Super Size Me'. I told him about Leslieville's fight against Big Box stores, and he wants to come down and help out if there's still a chance of stopping it.

During the evening, I went to an Irish pub that only serves Guinness on draught, nothing else. They have the old 'Guinness is good for you' posters slapped all over the place. A Bluegrass band was jamming together - absolutely fantastic, but no one else was there other than me and the jammers. It was incredible to watch and listen to them teaching and encouraging each other, figuring out how to do new things together. They recommended a bunch of places for me to go to, so all my evenings have now been spoken for till I leave. I'll be going to the Rockwood tonight, the Rodeo on Wednesday, and back to the Irish place on thursday to hear some traditional Irish folk music, with someone who's apparently the best Irish fiddler in the city playing.

NYC - Day Three

2008-10-19T18:19:00.000-07:00

Last night - Wow. Wow. Wow.

Before watching a show, Times Square is disgusting. I hate it. I hate the huge stores, the giant advertisements, the absolute crush of tourists. M & M World is the nadir of New York. At least I hope it is. It's just constant sensory bombardment with no let up.

Thankfully, I made it to my theatre, which ended up being an absolutely tiny little thing on the second floor of a building very close to Times Square. The 'Snapple Theatre'.

I was surprised when I walked in... I had no idea anything in New York, especially anything related to Broadway (even if it's technically off-broadway) could be so... small... The space is smaller then Buddies, smaller even then YPT's studio. There weren't more then 7 rows, and I was in the second row.

One of the big reasons I wanted to see the Fantasticks, is that this musical is pretty much the reason I have the best friend that I do. Ms Flood paired us together to sing a number from it, and our friendship just exploded as a result of our rehearsing together constantly. So I was very eager to find out who was playing the roles me and Finbar filled.

It's not so cut and paste an answer, because the lyrics were divied up differently from how me and Finny sang it. We're sort of an amalgam of both of the roles. But both actors were absolutely terrific. And one of them was Leo Burmester! The old gas station proprietor from "No Country for Old Men". That scene has always been my favourite from the movie, so getting to see the actor livem (and then being able to chat with him in the elevator leaving the theatre) was pretty frikkin sweet.

Add surprise onto surprise, the role of 'The Boy' was played by one of the racers on the current season of 'The Amazing Race'.

Even given the pleasant surprises in familiar faces in the cast, the performance itself was absolutely superb. I've never left a theatre on such a high before. And Times Square transformed. Walking through the Square after a show is completely different for me than before. The air became electric. Everyone was buzzing from the shows they had just seen. It was really something else. Everyone went from being obstacles in everyone elses way to being co-celebrants in something very special.

Today - I did a tour of Harlem... My first and only time that I'll be going with a group. I learned lots of fascinating things... but I hated being in a huge group. The tour culminated in a gospel service at a Harlem church. When I read that in the tour, I stopped thinking properly. I thought I was going to have the chance to worship WITH a church in Harlem. We were shepherded into the church. There was about 10 times more tourists than there were congregants, and we were all guided to sit in the back section of the church. All the tourists had cameras out and were taking pictures of the attraction. I hated it and left as soon as I could. On hindsight, I should have realized that that's what it would have been... but... well, that's why hindsight is hindsight.

I made my way down to the lower East side, and did a self-guided walking tour, focusing on the Jewish history of the place, visiting synagogues and such. I had another fantastic surprise, stumbling onto some sort of major street festival. It was very much a local thing rather than a tourist thing. I was asked to sign a number of municipal petitions that I wasn't eligible to sign. And I ate chocolate covered bacon.

That's right. Chocolate covered Bacon. It tasted... weird. I think it's something more for chocolate or dessert connoisseurs. The flavor combination was a bit too complex for me. I think I like my sweets fairly simple. But I sampled some of the womans other wares, and they were amazing. I think it was my first time tasting chocolate that can be legitimately described as 'luxury'. I also had the best doughnuts of my life.

Later in the day, I went to the Manhattan Mennonite Fellowship. I felt very comfortable there. I really liked it, and met some people that I hope will become friends.

I've also finally started to connect with some of my fellow travellers. I discovered the dining room/kitchen area in the hostel where I can make food, or bring it from the neighbourhood, and eat it in a communal environment. Much better than sitting in a restaurant by myself, or walking down the street with a hot dog or Shish kabob. (which is awesome occaisonally, but not as a staple.)

Tomorrow - no plans as of yet. I might just wake up and start wandering randomly and see where it takes me. I want to get to the boroughs at some point soon...

NYC - Day two.

2008-10-18T11:46:00.000-07:00

Last night: New Yorkers do NOT live up to their cranky reputation. Had a lovely conversation with a pretty girl who saw my guidebook and asked where I was from.

This was on my way to a bar in the lower east side that apparently plays good local Rock shows. I saw three bands, one not too memorable, one memorably bad, (I was the only guy that wasn't a family member or significant other of the band) and one that was absolutely AMAZING. They were called Endway, and I bought their CD. Awesome band.

Walked around the city in the wee hours of the night, and saw an incredible pots and pans drummer at Times Square station, and ate non-hot dog street meat. They sell everything from street stands here.

Today: Explored Central Park, wandered around a bit more downtown, saw the Naked Cowboy and bought tickets to see the Fantasticks tonight from the half-off stand. The guy behind me in line was a local named Tony who sees a half-off show about once a week. I had a blast talking to him. Another super friendly new yorker. He told me that New York's rep came pre-9-11, and that since the towers fell, everyone's become much, much nicer. With my experience so far, New Yorkers are the friendliest city dwellers I've ever met.

In Central Park:

-A family of 6 busking by singing amazing doo-wop harmonies. I wonder what the family dynamic was like... the kids were very young and looked like they did NOT want to be there.
-Many, many, many runners. Central Park is a joggers paradise.
-And many, many playgrounds with very interesting layouts. Grounders would be incredible here.
-Public art coming out the wazoo.

Tonight, the Fantasticks, and depending on how I feel when it's over, maybe to a pub that features Celtic music.

Tomorrow, the plan is to explore Harlem and check out a church there, then in the evening go to the Manhattan Mennonite Fellowship.

NYC - day one

2008-10-17T14:43:00.000-07:00

I can't upload pics yet, but hopefully they'll be coming soon.

Memories : Passing Scranton Pennsylvania - it's definitely the real Scranton that's used in the Office theme song.

Watching the Greyhound driver scream and swear at traffic trying to get into the Lincoln tunnel from the turnpike.

Experiencing New Yorkers that are TOO nice, and as a result discovering why it takes so long for the subway to leave the station in New York.

Experiencing the New York subway! What an incredible system! The TTC is childsplay compared to this labyrinth. And the buskers! So bizarre!

Wandering by chance into the Jewish Heritage Museum and being moved to tears.

Wandering Chinatown, with an amazing guidebook that took me off the beaten tourist path. I learned a lot of history, and saw a lot of great little things.

Being mistaken for a local by both tourists and their guides.

Walking all the way from my hostel (at 103rd) to Battery Park. Which is over two thirds of Manhattan from tip to tip.

Day one was mainly the walk from the hostel, wandering around Lower Manhattan (the financial district) - including stumbling onto Wall Street completely by accident. Checking out the Jewish Heritage museum, and wandering around Chinatown. I don't know what I'll be doing tonight. I'll figure something out. Friday night in New York!

On the road again.

2008-10-15T21:35:00.000-07:00

Today I can stop feeling like a shiftless bum lazing about at home, and start feeling like a shiftless bum getting some mileage.

These past couple weeks have been weird. A capstone to a weird summer that has left me feeling... I don't know... not myself. So here I am. About to be off on a new voyage.

Part tourist, part prodigal nephew, part soul-searching pilgrim in a familiar foreign land.

At 6:30 I'll be hopping on a Greyhound bus to New York City, arriving at approximately 6 PM. I'll be staying in Manhattan for a bit over a week, at the HI Hostel in the Upper West End. Then I'll be bussing to Pennsylvania, to the heart of Mennonite land, seeing aunts and uncles (and a cousin) I haven't seen in years and years, where I'll be stopping for a bit less than a week.

Then it's off to Washington D.C and the HI Hostel there for about a week, (including American election day!!!) then off to Indiana for more family.

I've done very little planning for what I'll do in the major cities. I've got some highlights in both that I want to hit, but for the most part, I'm looking forward to spontaneous exploration, and leaving as much open as possible for... whatever might happen.

For once, I've got a camera with me, so I'll be taking lots of pictures, and updating this as often as I can.

I'll be seeing you in a month.

Ben

Another sermon.

2008-05-05T22:11:00.000-07:00

Another sermon I wrote, part of a series my church was doing on 'Reclaiming the Anabaptist Vision'.

I've been thinking about this sermon for a long time now. Since I was asked to speak on the topic, 'Reclaiming the Anabaptist Vision in the broken city', I have thought long and hard on what the Anabaptist vision is… what Reclaiming it would mean.

I have to confess, a lot of my thoughts on this went down a fairly egotistical, self-centred road. In my studies, in my reading, in ways I was trying to lead my life (though very often not successfully), in my theology, in my relationship with God, hadn't I already claimed the Anabaptist vision? And my goal with this sermon would be not to 'myself' rediscover the Anabaptist vision, but to show the congregation what the true Anabaptist vision was. What My Anabaptist vision was. It sounds terrible for me to have thought that, and as I mull these words that I've written, I wonder… am I really so self-centred that I would think that?

My father and I talk a lot. One of the reasons I'm again writing this sermon way too close to the time I'll be presenting it is that I talk with my father when I should be doing other things. One of the topics I love to hear my dad talk about is his father, -my grandfather who was a Mennonite preacher in Pennsylvania, and how the Mennonite faith was changing and had changed in past generations times. One of the major events that happened was (over a period of time) the Mennonite church becoming heavily influenced by Fundamentalism, and Conservative Evangelicalism. My father and I both think of this as a bad thing. And not just as a bad thing, but as the Mennonite church losing what made it Mennonite. I don't want to put words into my fathers mouth, so I'll clarify this as my own words. I thought it was losing its Anabaptist vision, and conforming to a mainstream Christian vision that the original Anabaptists would not have approved of at all.

I love modern Anabaptist scholarship. I eat up John Howard Yoder (writer of 'The Politics of Jesus, among other books). I get goosebumps reading Walter Wink (who has written extensively on 'The Powers that Be'). My father and I can talk for hours about Mennonite books and ideas that excite both of us. When hearing the stories of the early Anabaptist figures- Of Conrad Grebel, Blaurock, Menno Simons, and so many more, I like to imagine: What would it be like to talk to them. I have no idea what Heaven is like, what the reality of the biblical concept really is, but every once in a while, I think about heaven as a concrete place that we'll go when we die, where we'll retain our individuality, and know who we are, and be able to hang out with all the dead people that got to heaven before us. And I love to imagine kicking back and hanging out with Menno Simons, picking his brain, and just being friends.

And I'd imagine us being friends. That on most everything, we would agree. Maybe not the use of the ban. Maybe not on the nature of Jesus' passage through Mary, but on most things.

I have a hard time with the concept of Hell. I think most people do. People that like the idea of Hell frighten me… more than a bit. I don't like Hell. I don't like the theological implications, I don't like the way passages referring to Hell have been interpreted over the centuries, I don't like it. I've decided that I'm going to do something about it. Going back to my imaginative thoughts on heaven, I sometimes imagine getting to Heaven, and discovering that whatever the criteria are for being saved, that I've been saved. I also imagine discovering that the traditional idea of Hell and Heaven is correct. That those that don't believe Jesus is the Son of God that don't… whatever guideline you want to use for those that are in or out, that there are most definitely those who are out. I imagine discovering this… then finding materials for a sign, and markers, and making some signs… and picketing heaven. Abraham did it. Moses did it. If I get to heaven, and find out people aren't being let in, and especially are being thrown in Hell, I'm going to try and change God's mind. And I'll do it at the gates of heaven and invite everyone I know to join me. Sometimes in my imagination, a huge protest is already going on, and I'm not having to start one. Mother Theresa just hands me a sign, and I join the party. What I'm getting at is… I thought Menno Simons would be there beside me. I thought this idea of Hell being unfair was a part of my Anabaptist core.

Doing research for this sermon, I've done a fair amount of reading of early Anabaptist texts. There's one book in particular that takes quotes from early leaders and organizes them into topics. I was planning on sifting through and picking out the ones that made me feel more proud to be Anabaptist… but I opened up the book, and read this, from Menno Simons "Encouragement to Christian Believers"

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"Little children, fear not, but be comforted in the Lord. For He is such a faithful, pious King, to whom you have sworn and bowed your knees. Not the least of His promises shall fail you. He will be our shield and great reward. Therefore neither doubt nor waver, for it is but a small matter to endure the heat of the sun, tribulation , plunder, persecution, prison, and death for a short time. The messenger is already at the door, who will say to us, Come ye blessed, enter into the glory of thy Lord. Then will our brief mourning be changed to laughter, our momentary pain into endless joy. These tyrants with their bloody mandates will have an end and all our persecutors, executioners, and torturers will cease. We will follow the Lamb, adorned in white garmettns with palms in our hands and crowns upon our head. Neither ill nor pain nor pangs of death will touch us longer, but we will forever exalt, praise, and thank in inexpressibly great joy and glory the Lamb who sits upon the throne.

Behold, my children, all the truly believing pious hearts comfort themselves with this approaching change. With it they possess their souls in patience, knowing well that their reward is great in heaven, and that on the other hand all the ungodly shall have their portion in the eternal, inquenchable fire, under the intolerable, dreadful sentence of God in the depth of hell, if they do not become converted and repent with all their hearts. Woe, woe, to these wretched people. To what an evil day were they born."

I was reading this while walking down the street as I'm wont to do, and when I got to the part about Hell, I just stopped, slack-jawed. It felt like Menno had sucker-punched me in the jaw. Which would be a shock on many different levels. I continued to read through the book… and I found my Anabaptist ideals in there, loud and clear. About believers baptism, about an active faith, about patience through suffering, about a non-violent witness. But I also found a whole lot of theology that not only was I uncomfortable with, I was also very familiar with, having heard it preached by the people who thought the conservative evangelical shift of Mennonites was a *very* good thing. By Fundamentalist and Conservative Evangelical preachers who I consider anathema to what I consider 'The Anabaptist Vision."

And I've come to a very sobering, very humbling realization. I've tried to search my thoughts, explore my theology, look at where my views of God and discipleship and faith come from. And… and I'm not putting a value judgement on this. I don't think my theology is less 'good' because I've discovered it's not as Anabaptist as I thought it was… but my faith and theology has been influenced –definitely as much as, probably more than the Mennonites I look down on- by non-Anabaptist liberal or progressive or Post-Modern or 'emergent' sources.

So… what is the Anabaptist vision? It's awfully hard to nail down. Until now, I've spoken about my recent discovery of it not quite being what I thought it was. From here on in… I want to see if I can strip it down to something that can take the witness of the early Anabaptists, and bring it to the present without making it liberal or conservative. Without leaving too much of my terribly biased, and now very confused mark upon it.

The early Anabaptist story is about a group of people who looked at their world. And they saw change happening. Luther had nailed his 99 theses to the door. The religious world was in an uproar. But the Anabaptists saw that more could be done. More change was needed. They saw that the way things were was broken. And they literally risked it all to try and be a change in the world. To be God's healing hands. And to me… ripping everything else away… that's what we as Mennonites bring to the table. That's our hockey position, to use Tim's analogy. (Even if I don't like it that much, I'm having trouble thinking of anything better at the moment.) That isn't to say that isn't present in other denominations… but when I look at MCC, at the Anabaptist story, at Mennonite churches on all sides of various theological and political spectrums… something of chief importance is to be God's healing hands in the world.

So finally, I come to the city… which was what I had planned on making the entire focus of this sermon, and… well… things got messy. The early Anabaptists saw that there was no religious choice. That faith was being manipulated for power, and power was reigning supreme. They saw this, and started something new. They showed that other options were available and lived out that active faith. How can we bring that to today? To our city?

It's hard. We're in hugely, hugely different circumstances from those original Anabaptists who were hunted and killed and tortured. Two days ago, I was discussing with a friend my horror at seeing Menno Simons quote. And then I noticed I was sipping an icy cold Chai Frappe bought from an independent coffee shop with the motto 'Urban Chic, Urban Cool, Urban 'some other trendy forgettable word.', sitting outside in the warm spring air, discussing theology. I have no real enemies. No one's trying to kill me. Could I hold on to these lovey-dovey bleeding heart ideals if everyone close to me was being hunted down and killed? Could I wish heaven upon the people that were doing it? I don't know. We're in completely different circumstances.

But, like those Anabaptists… we have eyes. They saw what was broken. We can see what's broken in the city around us. Because of their deep commitment to following Jesus, and being disciples… they changed their lives, gave up their lives… maybe not to 'fix' what was broken… but to be God's witnesses within the brokenness around them. And when I was originally putting this sermon together, I was thinking 'and we can change our lives to be God's witnesses too.' And once again, I was smacked with my own blindness.

I thought to myself… where is some of the brokenness in this city, where we can be God's healing hands. I thought of all the poverty in the city. Specifically, the people living on the streets. And I thought… well, where does this come from? Because it's more than just a lack of money. A lot of these people seem seriously… I don't know if 'ill' is the right word, or if there's something more compassionate or politically correct… but… obviously, just 'getting a job' isn't the right solution for most people living on the streets. And I thought about Parkdale, and documentaries I've seen, and articles I've read about when in the late 60s, all the mental institutions were opened up, and people that needed help were forced to be on their own. And I thought 'How can we change our lives to be God's healing hands in this brokenness.' And then I thought of my mom. Who is a forensic psychiatric nurse for the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health. When people who aren't mentally 'right' in the head try to make it on their own, and screw up royally to the point where they commit horrible crimes… they end up with my mom. Who has devoted her life to being with these people that we as a society have totally turned our back on. We ignore and demonize them, and when they've hit rock bottom… my mom is there, giving them their medicine, being their nurse, trying to keep them in line, and be a compassionate figure in their life. And… I've always thought about how incredibly brave my mom is for doing this, for being a nurse to psychopathic killers… but especially as I was rediscovering for myself what I thought discipleship meant… my mom and I didn't always see eye to eye, and I'd get frustrated at her for not in my mind being 'anabaptist' enough… and now, when I think of what it means to be an Anabaptist, a Mennonite, a disciple of Christ… I think… there's my mom. She's doing it. She's being God's healing hands in the brokenness of our city.

And I thought of Dalton, who I've probably driven over the edge in worry about whether we'd get in touch about scripture verses and worship leader stuff. Dalton who has spent so much time, as assistant to a city councilor being a friend to people in marginalized areas. Who, as receptionist to the mayor befriends everyone who comes into the mayor's office, no matter how angry they are, or how hopeless their situation seems, and is their friend. Who invites them to our church, to be a part of our community. There's a good chance that some of those friends are sitting here listening to me talk now, and it makes me so happy knowing you're here. Dalton, like my mom, like the early Anabaptists, I see you looking at this city, looking at the world around you, and being God's healing hands.

Margaret, with your involvement in Global Closet, I know what an adventure that can be. You're being an example of a disciple. Of following Christ, of living out that Anabaptist vision.

Ilka, Christian, Johanna. You've come here to volunteer in a community that's a far distance away from what you're used to, but you're building houses, helping to run a thrift store, being a helper to the elderly. I know you guys aren't Mennonite, but to my eye, you're still living out that Anabaptist vision.

And this is only a small smattering. A small example from what little I know about the members of our church community.

This is 'a' Anabaptist vision. It's definitely 'my' Anabaptist vision. I don't know how correct it is… and it feels good to admit that. I am certain only in my uncertainty. Another place where me and Menno Simon's differ greatly. He's one of the most 'certain' writers I've ever read.

I want to wrap this up… with an encouragement, and then with a prayer. I want to encourage us to try and find places where we've been blind. I don't know how open my eyes are, but I feel like I'm aware now of a blindness that I've had. I want to encourage us as a church community to see and look and celebrate when we see God's healing hands at work through us. And to keep pursuing that radicalness. To see that brokenness, and become a healing part of it, more, and more, and more. To be transformed by his love, while transforming with his love.

So Lord, God, Abba, daddy, however we see you… I pray that you'll forgive us. Forgive our egotism, our blindness, our excuses. I thank you that you've created us as changeable beings, as people that can learn and grow, that can be different from yesterday to today and from today to tomorrow. I pray that you'll continue to grow in our hearts, and ignite in us passions for the city around us, whether fanning flames that are already there, or springing up new ones where there was nothing, or only ash before. Let your kingdom come, let your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.

A Sermon

2008-02-10T10:33:00.000-08:00

This is the sermon I preached a month and a bit ago. When I wrote it, I thought it was one of the worst things I'd ever written, thrown together at the last minute. But when I presented it to the congregation... Everything came together. All the songs, the scripture readings, the congregational readings... It was an amazing service, and something I never would have expected as I sat at the computer at 4 AM Saturday "night".

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Every year, during the holiday season, my family has a movie night, where we watch a couple movies together. Wednesday night, this past week, we had this years movie night, and we watched Back to the Future and it’s sequel. In Back to the Future, the main character Marty McFly gets thrown back in time, and has to figure out how to get back to the present, while making sure he doesn’t’ change history to the point where he no longer exists. As I was thinking about the focus for this week – The magi’s visit – it got me wondering. What would it be like to go back in time – to the Magi’s visit? For one thing, to finally answer questions about the Christmas story’s accuracy, but assuming it did happen the way Matthew told it and eventually wrote it down… What would it have been like? I’d love to find a camel, and ride with the magi and pick their brains. Why did wise men from a far, far country come to worship the prophecied King of the Jews?
What would it have been like to see the looks on Mary and Joseph’s faces as they were presented these rich treasures by men the likes they’d probably never seen before in their provincial lives. Sure, with all the angels and dreams and the miraculous birth, I’m sure Mary and Joseph would be a bit desensitized to strange happenings by now, but still… I think it would have been fun to be there.
Other than thinking about what it would have been like if I went back then, I like to think, well…. What if I brought them back here? What if those wise men saw Bethlehem today? For one thing, they’d see a big honking wall, made out of cement, worming it’s way around the city. Once the wise men found it, they would be quickly led through the checkpoint. Foreigners are never given a great deal of hassle… (Unless they happen to look as Arabic as I do.) The wise men would see the Palestinians not as lucky as them standing around, though… waiting for ages to get through, being told to remove item after item of clothing, trying desperately to find a way to get the cursed detecter to stop beeping and let them go home.

There’s a wall around Bethlehem. I could go into politics and explain the various viewpoints about why it should be there, or why it shouldn’t be there, and all it’s effects and such… but for now… the fact that it’s there, I think, is enough. Bethlehem, where the lowly shepherds heard the angel’s hymn ‘Peace on earth, good will to all.’ Bethlehem, that the Magi followed the stars to. Bethlehem where Jesus was born, has a wall around it. Has undergone sieges, has become a place… not of hope, but of desperation, and violence and hate.

So what is the story that we’re telling, of Jesus early years? How do we interpret the Magi’s visit? Is it a story of kings giving obeisance to the ‘King of All’ heralding in a new sovereign leader to conquer and to rule in the name of his people? Is it a story of walls being built? … Or of walls being torn down? Of gentile meeting Jew, of wise rich men kneeling next to a poor carpenter.

We have enough walls in this world, I think. Walls across the globe in the west bank. Walls across the Mexican/American border. There are the less physical walls we put up, that are still very real, to make it easier to walk past the street people asking for money. Walls at my workplace, declaring who it’s okay to be friends with, and who isn’t.
What is this obsession with walls? With being separate? I understand different people function in different ways, and some people are more… wanting to be independent than me… but at the same time… in my own experience, if I do things alone… they rarely get done well, if it all. When I do things as a part of a group, I thrive. I don’t always want to be a part of a group. Sometimes I want to be alone. But the track record is clear for me. When I let down my own walls, that’s when good things happen in my life.

When I take the time to sit with a homeless person and chat for a while, not just toss some change and run. (If I do even that.) When I spend some extra time with my family, when I’m a part of a team at work, when I become a part of a team with CPT, going to Palestine, or even at Ontario meetings… I can feel the richness of that togetherness. Me without walls is better than me with walls. That’s part of why I want to move into the MVS house, which, if I can finally get down to it, will happen in the next couple days. I want to live together with people –as a conscious choice. I love my family, very dearly, but I was born into them. I grew up with them. I want now to choose community.

Which comes first: I’m closer to God, so my walls come down, or when my walls come down, I’m closer to God?

Things in Palestine are a lot more complicated than my personal experience… and it’s going to take a miracle to knock those walls down, and I don’t mean just the concrete one. There are so many walls there. Walls of miseducation, of stereotypes and racism, of conflicting histories, of misunderstandings. Of war, violence, terror. Of manipulated religion. I have a piece of the wall here in my wallet. (show piece) I was able to work it off with my bare hands.

There are people there using their bare hands to work away at all the walls. It’s just little pieces at a time… but I have hope. I have hope when I hear of an Israeli soldier saying to a Christian Peacemaker Team member ‘Until there is peace, you have to be here, and I have to be here.’ I have hope when I see Israeli activists working side by side with Palestinians, picking olives. And I feel great joy having been right there alongside them, picking olives too. I have hope hearing of organizations bringing the idea of human rights into schools throughout Israel. The walls over there are being chipped away at. I just don’t know if they’ll end up being knocked down faster than they’re being built.

I have hope hearing the incredible similarities between stories told by Israeli settlers and Palestinian villagers, and I wonder… would they be able to hear each others stories? Or is the hate too entrenched. The status quo too much of a reality… It will take a miracle. It will take answered prayer. It will take… forgiveness. It doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of it over there in Palestine. . I think of the church of the Holy Sepulchre, on the site where traditionally, Jesus was crucified. The place is divided into denominations that all have to agree for any repairs to be made. A ladder is sitting near the top of the outside of the church. It’s been there for at least two hundred years. The denominations can’t agree to even move the ladder. The divisions of the Christian church are never more clear than in Jerusalem. If this is the Christian church in Palestine – the religion that holds forgiveness at it’s very core… they’re really setting a great example, eh?

It’s January now. We’re done waiting for Christmas. Advent is officially over. The shepherds, the angels, the stable, and now, the magi. It’s come and gone… but… we’re still waiting. For peace on earth. For the kingdom that little baby grew up to proclaim.

I like that tension I’ve found… that for me is very true for every aspect of my faith. The ‘already there, but not yet.’ The kingdom is already here, but not yet. I am who God created me to be, but not yet fully. To me, it means it’s alright to keep waiting, keep hoping, keep praying, but at the same time, keep doing. Keep searching, keep looking, keep trying. It’s easy to say nothing will happen. No one wants peace, and on and on… in Palestine, but, anywhere too. But, see… I believe in a God who likes to play with impossibilities. Sometimes he just takes a very long time, and makes you wait. That wait could be thousands of years.

The magi, they spent a long time trekking after that star. They journeyed, and eventually, they found what they were looking for, under that star.

I’m following that star. I think we all are. We’re not there yet, but we’re on that journey. I don’t know exactly what I’ll find under it… but I think it will be worth everything, once it’s all said and done.

So, let’s go try and knock down some walls. And let’s do it… together. We may not see results, it may not look like we’re making a difference, but we may as well do *something* while we’re waiting, right?

If I saw the Wise Men in Bethlehem today, I think I’d give them my piece of the wall to take home with them. To help them remember it. I’d probably try and recruit them to be a part of CPT. Speaking of which… if anyone would be interested in going on a delegation, let me or Murray know, and we’ll hook you up with what you need to know.

Anyway, I would ask them, “What now? You’ve seen the Messiah. You avoided Herod. You’re probably feeling really freaked out about all the babies dying. What are you waiting for now? And what will you do while you’re waiting?

Ode to the Greyhound.

2007-11-06T14:22:00.000-08:00

Revulsion. Pity. Shock. Disgust. Whenever I tell people I’ve ridden the Greyhound from Toronto to Abbotsford, their face contorts into one of these emotions. People ask me, “Does it really cost that much more to ride the plane?” If you factor in all the money I’ve spent on food and snacks, and the enormous amount of extra time that it takes, from a purely economical viewpoint, it probably doesn’t make sense to take the bus.

Still, I’m glad I did it, and am looking forward to hopping back on that bus in 5 days time, and riding her for three more days home. Why? There are quite a few rewards I get from riding a bus across the country that I can’t get anywhere else.

First of all, I got time to think. Lots and lots of time where I had nothing to do but think and reflect on whatever I wanted to. I’ve experienced a lot lately, as my World Tour notes can attest to, and I haven’t given myself time to sit back and digest everything I’ve been through. I’ve been spending time with friends, or working, or finding other ways to occupy my time. Sitting in the dark, trying to sleep as the bus vibrates around you, there is nothing to do but think, reflect and pray in silence. I’m glad I had that time, and think it was very healthy for me. Four hours of flying wouldn’t have been enough time.

Secondly, when the sun was up, I saw the transforming environments of Canada in an up close and personal way that I never see from the air. Don’t get me wrong, there’s something very special about seeing folded mountains from the sky, and looking out over the landscape identifying features I’d only ever seen drawn in a map, but until you’ve been across the roads of Canada, you’ll never appreciate the sheer size of Canada and the variety of the environments. I love riding through the Canadian shield, seeing the rocky promontories jutting out over Lake Superior, looking at the beautiful town of Kenora nestled on Lake of the Woods gradually making way to the immense flatness of the Prairies which stretches out for a full day before slowly transforming from the foothills outside of Calgary into the majestic Rockies which never cease to draw gasps from me as the winding roads divulge stunning vista after vista. Canada is huge and beautiful.

Finally, the biggest reason I love riding the Greyhound is the people that I meet. There are so many fascinating characters that I observed and met just on this one trip that I took. The ones whose names I didn’t learn, I’ve given names in my head, and I’d like to introduce them all to you.

The Smoky Bandits: These were the first people I saw, waiting with Finbar to get on the bus. This couple wore dark clothing all the time, and were the worst chain smokers I’ve ever seen. Any chance they ever had to be off the bus, they were outside puffing a cigarette. They would smoke as many as they could in one go before being shuffled back on the bus.

Smiley McRacist: Smiley sat behind me right from the start in Toronto. When we left at 1:00 AM, he proceeded to talk to the girl beside him about all his girlfriend woes for the past five years, including a businesswoman who he had some ‘real dirt’ on that would get her fired. After the first break, I switched seats to near the back of the bus. He switched to a seat in front of me, and told another young woman the exact same story. I moved again, he moved to the seat across the aisle from me, and told another lovely young woman the exact same story. This woman refused to take any crap from him, and told him exactly what he’d done wrong, and about how he’d better stop thinking of himself as the hero of his story, because he wasn’t. After which he told this lovely young black woman all about how black people wear too much jewelry, and would NOT let it go, no matter how offended the young woman got. I think of him as ‘Smiley’ McRacist though, because sometimes a real nice guy shone through the bull. There was a very touchy feely man getting touchy feely with the girls on the bus, and Smiley defended them and got the police involved and was very gentlemanly. When he left the bus at Winnipeg he patted me on the shoulder and wished me all the best on the rest of the trip. He was a nice guy, a rotten vengeful bastard, and a racist - all rolled up in one yellow-hatted package.

The Brothers Karamazov. – I have only fond thoughts of the brothers. Two blind men that I think were twins…. One of the brothers was much more handicapped than the other, and the able brother was very lovingly taking care of his twin. It was remarkably sweet to watch, and the little conversation I had with the brother left me touched by his friendliness and sensitivity. I was sad to see them go in Winnipeg.

Sir Coffsalot. – This sickly man sat right behind me from Sudbury to the Soo. Constantly hacking and coughing, at one point he grabbed the seatback in front of him –mine-, hoisted himself up and coughed directly on the back of my head. I have no fond memories of this one.

Mr. Indecisive. – Spent the entire trip from Sudbury to Wawa asking the driver if he could go back. At Thunder Bay he hopped off our bus and onto one heading right back to Sudbury. This is a trip of around 13 hours.

Captain Quebec. – Captain Quebec was easily the most bizarre of my travelling companions. He had a gaunt narrow face, and wore his long hair in a ponytail. He had a tan blazer and khaki pants that he kept tucked into his calf-high cowboy boots. He always wore a full sized Quebec flag with a hole in the middle of it as if it were a poncho. He also had a large terry cloth bathrobe with fleur-de-lis’ sewn into the back. He was a friendly enough man. During the first couple rest stops, we would engage in small talk. ‘Where are you going to?’ ‘Do you usually take the Greyhound?’
A couple rest stops later, I finally got up the nerve to ask him about the flags. ‘Is there any special reason why you’re always wearing the flag?’

His answer: The Holy Spirit told me if I wore the flag for a full year, Quebec would separate from Canada.’ Definitely not what I was expecting, though I’m not sure what I *was* expecting. He was travelling across Canada spreading the spiritual message of Quebec, and was going to give the flag to the leader of Quebec when it separates in April. (One year after the Holy Spirit convinced him to start wearing the flag.) I decided to take that at face value, and asked him why he thought Quebec should separate, since obviously he was passionate about this. ‘Well, uh… I uh… I don’t think Canada deserves Quebec. People in Quebec, they are much more intelligent than people in Canada. Maybe because they have to learn two languages instead of just English…’ Then he paused and thought for a bit. ‘Hm… Why Quebec should separate… No, I think that’s the only reason. I can’t think of anything else.’
I’m pretty proud of myself for successfully holding in my disbelieving laughter. I talked to him one last time, near Calgary, feeling like I had to let him know how I felt about his separatist reasonings. When I told him I was offended by the generalizing and belittling statements he made about Canada, he responded ‘Well, I always speak the truth. I’m sorry if this offends you.’ I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I asked him about how he heard the Holy Spirit. What he told me was remarkably similar to Brad Jersak’s listening prayer teachings, for those of you that are familiar with that. I decided to impart to him some of Brad’s guidelines for hearing God’s voice, which includes interpreting in community. Captain Quebec told me he was very much of a lone wolf prophet, who has been ostracized by his Pentecostal community, and had no interest whatsoever in joining a church. After that, I decided I’d had enough of conversing with him, though he seemed to want to talk some more. I feel like I’d already given him much more respect and attention than most.

My favourite co-traveler was an old Chinese man named Wai Cheung, who had lived in Calgary for ten years, then Utah before that, Las Vegas before that, and Peking China, originally. He was VERY smart, and we talked for hours about Mormons, Mennonites, Israel and Palestine, Canadian politics and economics, and gambling, among other things. He was incredibly well-informed about current events, and when I got off the bus in Abbotsford, we were both very happy with how educated we felt after our conversation. I learned a lot from him, and he learned a lot from me.

My life is quite a bit richer now, because I took the Greyhound. I doubt my trip back will match this one for the sheer novelty of my co-passengers, but life can be quite surprising. I’m sure I’ll find it rewarding in some way.

Ben's got a brand new blog.

2007-11-06T10:49:00.001-08:00

I don't know what exactly this blog will look like... Ever since I wrote my Palestine updates, I've felt an urge to write more. Not just about Palestine... I just want to write, about various things. CPTers are expected to write updates and reflections regularily for publication, and I figure I could use some more experience writing before publishing work in a more official capacity. My first entry (other than this one) will be my Palestine updates again, for people that don't have access to Facebook. After that, I've got a reflection on my Greyhound trip from Toronto to Abbotsford that I've been working on.

I'm looking forward to playing around with this. Whenever I've done blogs before, it's just been verbally barfing whatever I'm thinking or doing. This'll be my first blog where I'm sitting down to write 'things'. Reflections on specific subjects, and the like.

This should be fun. Thanks for reading.

Palestine Journals, for those that don't have Facebook.

2007-11-06T10:34:00.000-08:00

So, it turns out for the two days I'm in Jerusalem at least, there *is* some net access. So I made it. I'm here. I just watched a lightning storm from the roof of the building Pilate traditionally tried Jesus in, with the Dome of the Rock about 2-300 metres away.

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I don't know how often I'll be able to do this, but here's another update.

Today was the day I stopped feeling like a tourist, and more like a witness in a country rife with oppression. We talked to a number of Israeli human rights organisations, and we took a tour of East Jerusalem. I stood in front of the wall that's ribboning through the land, and stood in front of a house that had been demolished. I'm still in shock, and processing everything I've learned today. It's... Yeah, definitely still processing.

On a lighter note, I had my first authentic Middle Eastern falafel today, in a restaurant that had no English signing whatsoever, from restaurant staff that didn't speak English. Even in South Africa, English was pretty universally on display and almost everyone knew how to speak it, so this was a new experience for me. I'm really enjoying the people who are on the delegation with me, and am looking forward to getting to know them better. We've got one from New Zealand, and the CPT liason is from Scotland, so there's always some interesting accent to listen to.

Tonight, we also went beneath the convent we're staying at to a cavern that had the roads of Jerusalem from Jesus's day exposed. Since the stones exposed are a very main road through ancient Jerusalem, there's a pretty good chance that they were stones that Jesus had walked on, so that was pretty cool.

Also, we had our first (and hopefully last) vehicle breakdown. It was on a very steep hill in East Jerusalem, and there was a lot of rolling backwards and loud banging noises, so it was pretty frightening.

Thank you everyone for your notes. I don't have time to respond to all of them right now, but I'd love to get together with anyone that wants to and tell you everything I can once I get back. I'm only two days in, just one full day, really, and it's... it's something else, that's for sure.

The taxis are out of this world. Traffic signs and painted lines on roads really seem to be guidelines more than anything else. There's been many times I've been absolutely sure we were going to be in a collision only to see the cars zoom by each other with only inches to spare. (Maybe I shouldn't let my mom know about that part...)

Anyway, I'm off to Bethlehem early tomorrow morning. I'll be back in Jerusalem before we fly out, so I'll definitely be able to come online again then. I have no idea if I'll be able to do it before then. Thanks again for all your prayers and support! I'll see you all soon!

Ben

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If you check out my new profile pic, that's me and the delegation starting to walk away from the wall that's just starting to be built just outside of Bethlehem. We're walking away because those soldiers you can see in the background started driving down to chase us away.

Except for some rather frightening corralling and shoving at the beginning of the protest, the soldiers were very gentle and kept their distance from us until they started driving down, and even then, they just drove away once we left and didn't stop us for ID or anything. Israeli soldiers CAN be brutal, but anyone that paints all Israeli soldiers with the same demonic paintbrush are just as wrong in their attitudes as those that say that all Palestinians are terrorists.

I have met SO many awesome Palestinians AND Israelians while I've been here. There's an awesome Israeli activist movement that's at work in Israel, at both a grassroots level, and through organisations that are lobbying and seeking legal precedent and doing that sort of thing.

And the Palestinians! It gets me so frustrated every time I meet another wonderful Palestinian how horribly misrepresented these people have been by the news, by movies, by... by everything. I've met so many Palestinians who are so passionately dedicated to non-violence it puts me to shame. In circumstances that seem incredibly bleak and miserable, they are hopeful, they are working for change, and they are smiling. I'm in awe.

Also, if anyone still goes to Danforth CTI on this mailing list, could someone pass on a message to JP in the office for me, or even print this out directly for him? Let him know these people DO want us to be there. Some of the progressive Israelis do, and every Palestinian we've come in contact with is very supportive of what we're doing here. CPT never goes anywhere they haven't been invited by locals. Israeli's and Palestinians alike can be a loving, compassionate people, just like any people group can be loving and compassionate. And I feel completely safe here. (Except for possibly when I'm in a particularily daredevil-ish taxi drivers cab...) I haven't felt threatened by anyone, no matter their nationality. I do understand JP's concerns, and of others who've voiced similar concerns (and sorry for singling you out JP, but I want you to get this message while I'm there, and I can't think of any other way to get it out) but I really do feel like they're based on misrepresentations of the situation.

This has been an incredible experience so far, and it's really only just begun. This morning I'll be going to a church service in a language I don't understand in Bethlehem. Bethlehem! King David's hometown, Jesus traditional birthplace, a besieged warzone... So much has happened here over so many historical epochs.

I would love to come back someday with a group of people... with some friends, and just spend time being in the country, seeing the sights. Much of Palestine needs tourists to survive, and the occupation and the second Intifada has choked the tourist trade beyond Bethlehem to being practically non-existent. So if anyone would be interested in a social-justice minded tour of Palestine at some far point in the future, let me know. The seeds have been planted in my mind.

Some good websites to check out...

www.acri.org.il - The Association for Civil Rights in Israel

www.badil.org - Badil resource center for Palestinian Residency and Refugee Rights.

I just want to let you guys know again, I feel very safe here. The most dangerous element is the traffic, as of now, and I'm having a great time.

Talk to you all soon,

Ben

P.S Just want to clarify a bit, lest I seem *too* hopeful. Horrible things ARE happening here, and there are very nasty individuals and institutions at work. It's mindblowing, and is relentless. However, there's more hope here than I ever believed there could be. There is more compassion in the people facing oppression, and there is more concrete good things being done. As our Israeli tourguide said, he may never get back together with his ex-girlfriend, but the wall will come down. There will be peace. Heck, three years ago I was in South Africa, learning about many of the same things I am today, except I was learning them as history in Africa. One day people will be learning about what is being experienced today as history too. I'm sure of it.

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I finally have a chance to update you all on the past couple days, and now that I've got some time in front of the computer, I've got no idea where to start.

The past few days were spent in very rural areas, mainly around the villages of Susiya and At-Tuwani. At-Tuwani is where a permanent CPT team is located. Our time in Susiya was incredible, and will stick with me for the rest of my life. First of all, we visited a settlement, and talked to a settler. It was... bizzarre. The settler we talked to was from South Africa, and she wanted to assure us that what was happening in Israel was completely different from South Africa. In South Africa, the blacks were being persecuted, and it was wrong. Israel is not apartheid (says her) because the Arabs (she NEVER referred to them as Palestinians) are not being persecuted. She came across as a perfectly reasonable, wonderfully compassionate person, and if we hadn't seen the lives, heard the stories, and been in the places she was talking about ourselves, I might have seen things her way. BUT we had seen the lives of the Palestinians, we had seen the checkpoints, we had seen the persecution with our own eyes (I've felt it myself, but I'll get to that soon...) and knew that the reality of the situation and her quite earnest perception of it weren't the same.

What shocked me the most, and I could see from the faces of my co-delegates that they felt the same way was when the settler talked about seeing pictures of South Africa, of the 'blacks only' and 'whites only' signs, and how she didn't remember them when she lived there. And she said, and this is a direct quote "When you're part of the system, it's hard to see the injustice of it."

When you're part of the system, it's hard to see the injustice of it.

She said it herself! Right there! Of course, now it's got me thinking and wondering about what systems of injustice I'm a part of that I just can't see, and what people are looking at me and shaking their heads about how I'm just continuing along living in this system of injustice that I'm benefitting from...

The settlement we visited had stolen land from and continually harassed the village of Susiya, which we visited next. Their village has been destroyed four times, and every time they've built it up again. Right now, the ones that remain are living in tents. They are incredible, resilient people, and I hope I'll learn better Arabic, and be back to get to know them better. I played Volleyball in the Judean wilderness as the sun set, laughing with the locals at my own incompetence as the lights of the settlement glittered surprisingly close by.

Supper that night was the greatest cross cultural experience I've ever had, and one of the greatest experiences period that I've ever had. We broke up into small groups, and visited other families living in tents in the area. I went with my new friend Mary Rose, the woman in my profile picture with a rainbow coloured hat, and we visited a man named Jamal's family. He spoke maybe four words of English. Mary Rose and I spoke about four words of Arabic, but it was a wonderful experience. Jamal introduced us to his family, and we all smiled at each other, and sat there in the tent, eating. Mostly in silence, though every once in a while we would try to talk and communicate. We managed using mime and charades to have a discussion about Canadian and American politics, and about Israeli policies, but it was quite simple. Mary Rose was very happy when she remembered that New Zealand (where she comes from) had a female prime minister, and was able to get that across to the women. I didn't get any pictures, but the faces of that family will be etched in my mind till I die, and I'll always remember just sitting with them, sometimes singing, sometimes gesturing, but always smiling and always welcome.

This trip has affected me in almost every possible way it can, I think. Politically, I feel on fire, and I can't wait to come home and talk to every politician I can get ahold of about what I've seen and what Canada can do. I want to start letter writing campaigns, form petitions, and just raise awareness in every way that I can.

Spiritually, the bible has NEVER seemed more real to me. When you're in the land these stories take place in, everything makes sense. I've seen women gathered at wells, I've walked the rocky paths and seen the stones lying everywhere, just waiting to be picked up and used in an execution. I've eaten bread and cheese made in ways that haven't changed in thousands of thousands of years. I've seen the descendants of grapevines that Joshua and Caleb would have seen. It's brilliant, it's absolutely brilliant. The night I was in Susiya, my back was starting to get sore from sitting on a pallet without anything to lean on, and Jamal's brother could tell, so he pushed some pillows towards me and demonstrated how to recline on them, and I had a flashback to my Gospel of John class, and Michael Szuk showing us how Jesus and his disciples would have reclined around the Last Supper table, and it was exactly the same way. I've watched my feet get dusty and dirty to the point where I wish someone would have offered to wash them for me.

I'm in the CPT headquarters now, and I'm amazed at how much it feels like another home. As soon as I entered the staircase, and started walking up the stairs, it just felt like I'd come home. So, at this point, I definitely want to be a part of CPT, and having seen At-Tuwani and Hebron, I think Hebron is where I'd like to be. It feels... right, and it feels more right the more I spend time here.

Being in Hebron has been very interesting. A number of people at home wondered if the fact that I look ethnically like I could be Jewish or Palestinian would make a difference. It has, and the jury says I look Palestinian. Noone Palestinian has accused me of being Israeli, and at checkpoints, I feel more like a Palestinian then an Israeli. It doesn't help that my passport stamp from Israel didn't have enough ink on it and is very faint, so the two times where I've had to show it to soldiers and border police, it's taken a fair amount of convincing to get the soldier to believe I'm not a muslim. Even Palestinian police thought I was Arab and were giving me trouble for it.

Hebron is probably the most non-Western city I've ever been in. Leaving the old city and walking through the main markets is... is truly out of this world. I had a great Shawarma for lunch today, and am looking forward to exploring more meals and treats as the week goes on. We'll be spending the rest of our time in Hebron now until the last day, which will be in Jerusalem again.

Some final words about apartheid, and whether there is an apartheid system in Israel or not... There is a system of Seperateness. There are roads that Israelis can go on that Palestinians can not. If Palestians build 'illegal' buildings, they are bulldozed and receive demolition orders. If Israelis build illegal settlements (which all settlements are) they are not demolished. Every once in a while, an OUTPOST will be demolished, but never settlements. Anyone that says Israel is not Apartheid, I challenge you to come here yourself. See how the Palestinians live, how they are treated, then see how the Israelis live, and tell me that there isn't a policy of seperateness going on here. I've felt it myself going through checkpoints just because I look like I could be Palestinian. It's humiliating, and I can't imagine what it would be like to experience that every day. Eventually the soldiers realize I'm not Palestinian. The real Palestinians don't have that luxury.

Anyway, love to all of you. I don't feel quite the same level of safety that I did before... (We heard a firefight going on as we were trying to go to bed last night) and the military presence is much higher here, but I do still feel safer than I thought I would.

I'll see you all soon...

Ben

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I can't believe my time here is almost over. Today, Bob -our delegation leader- mentioned that tomorrow we would be going to Jerusalem, and I was shocked. Where has the time gone? I don't want to go home yet. There's still too much to see, too many things I want to do. Tomorrow morning we'll be heading back to Jerusalem, and we'll have one day of freedom to do whatever we want. I'm hopefully going to get in touch with an old family friend living near Bethlehem and spend some time with him.

I've decided I AM coming back. For sure. I'm going to sign up for the summer training in July/August, which means I won't be coming back to Centreville as supervisor. Which makes me feel a bit nostalgic, and sad, but after being here for the short time I have been, I'm realizing I can't just leave it behind. I love the country, I love the people, I've seen the good that CPT does in the area from many different locals and organisations, and I want to be a part of it.

I want to be a part of this CPT community as well. For those of you that know how interested I am in intentional community, that's what the CPTers have here. I've heard them say many times 'The street work is easy compared to living in community.'

I came on this delegation to find out whether the ideals of CPT that I had in my mind were the reality of CPT, and I've discovered that yes they are. The people in this organization are imperfect humans doing their best to live together in a very stressful situation, doing their best to follow the personal call they feel to go out into the world and work for peace, for dignity, for what they believe is the way the world should be and the way the world can be.

This is discipleship at work. These people are following Jesus in a real way that I feel I can follow too, with them. Heh, in a doubly real way considering the dusty paths we're actually walking.

So yeah, it feels like this delegation has been a success. I want to be a part of CPT in an ongoing fashion, and the CPTers here seem to think I'd be a valuable addition to the team, so... here I am.

When I come home, I'm going to talk at Danforth, both the church and the high school, (though this might be after I visit British Columbia...) If any of you that are reading this can think of any venues or organizations or people that you'd like me to talk to given what you've read, please get in touch with me and let me know. Even you BC folk, I'll be in BC... I still don't know what days exactly I'll be coming... I should be working on that, but I'll be there very soon. Over Remembrance day for sure, and possibly a week before or a week after that. But yeah, I'll be in BC, so I could do some talking over there too. I want to tell the stories that I've heard, I want to describe what I've seen. Over and over again, that's what the locals have asked us to do. "Tell our stories. Let people know what's happening."

On a different note... since I'm so bent on coming back, I really, really want to learn Arabic, and more specifically, Palestinian Arabic, which is different enough from classical Arabic to make classical Arabic lessons not that useful... so does anyone know anyone that knows Palestinian Arabic that would be willing to be a tutor?

Thank you all for reading my long rambling updates, and special thanks to those of you that have responded so encouragingly, especially when I haven't actually talked to you in years.

This will probably be my last update unless something incredible happens tomorrow in Jerusalem that I just *have* to write about. So, Salaam Alaykim. I'll hopefully see all of you soon.

Ben