On Noah

The first time I even heard that the movie Noah was coming out in theatres was in a stadium packed with Christians. What better venue to promote a movie based on a Biblical person than to those who know the story best? On top of that, what better way to make money off a movie than by having the MCs at an event encourage everyone in the room to go see it (and bring your non-Christian friends!). Hollywood knows a set of suckers when they see 'em.

But I digress. For it seems that there's a growing backlash against Noah led by none other than those who the movie is marketed to. Christians are telling other Christians NOT to see the movie.

One blogger (who actually felt it necessary to ensure his readers that he's a Christian in the title of his blog post) has gone so far as to give a complete synopsis of the film in order to convince his readers not to watch it. Why are Christians turning their back? Well, for various reasons--not being true to Scripture is one of them (something about rock people). The best reason I have heard so far is that the director, Darren Aronofsky, is ... wait for it ... atheist (GASP!). And he used the F word when talking about his film (double-gasp!). Oh, and he made other films with the F word actually in it. Sigh.

How's the song go? 'And they'll know we are Christians by how much we complain.'

So someone who is definitely not a Christian directs a movie about something in the Bible. His secret is out, so now all Christians are told to avoid the movie at all costs and tell all their friends that the director is an atheist so that they will boycott the movie as well.

Could you imagine the backlash if Aronofsky was gay?

Seriously, am I missing something here? Does Hollywood owe Christianity something? Is that the expectation, that whenever a film is based on a Biblical story it has to uplift the souls of the faithful and (hopefully) bring a few non-faithful to their knees in repentance?  Do we honestly believe that watching a story about God completely destroying all but a few souls on earth is going to drive the masses into church the following Sunday?

What gets me about this is that there are many Christians who would read about the personal beliefs of the director of Noah and turn their back on the movie, only to go home and turn their T.V. on to the season finale of Breaking Bad or the premiere of Game of Thrones without a thought to the beliefs of the directors or even about what they're actually watching. I have honestly heard more buzz in my Christian circles about Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones than I have about Noah--and nobody blinks an eye at the gratuitous sex scenes of GoT and the violence of BB when they talk about getting together to watch.

I have to admit, I haven't seen this movie--not for any of the reasons cited above but because a night out to watch a movie generally costs us over $50 when you factor in the babysitting.  But I'm sure I'll watch it someday.  And if you intend to boycott the movie, ask yourself why.  Are you watching it so that you can be reassured in your faith?  I'm sorry that a movie has to do that for you.  Because the entire movie is just that: a movie. A film to watch more for it's entertainment value than for a spiritual revival.  The point is not about us as Christians gloating in the fact that Hollywood produced a Biblical story true to Scripture.

Does Noah twist Scripture?  Sure.  But at least you know it.  There will be countless people who will watch this movie and think what they're seeing is Biblical.  What a great opportunity to tell those people about how it really went down ... or up (depending on whether you're talking about before or after the rain--ha!).  And it's a great opportunity to finish the story of Noah, because chances are the movie doesn't end with Christ.  Christ who told us to complain go and make disciples.  What a great opportunity to start.

2012.

The champagne has been uncorked, the ball has dropped. 2012. Another year over, a new one just begun.

It's been just under two years since I last posted anything on my blog, but over the past few days a couple of people have mentioned that I should get back into writing. A two year writer's block is quite a feat to overcome, so you'll have to bear with the poor grammar, incomplete sentences and lack of focus.

2011 has come to an end. Reading through my last New Year's post at the beginning of 2010, all I can think about the fact I thought 2010 would be a year of change is this: You haven't seen nothing yet, Matt. 2011 was indeed a year of change.

2010 brought ten new fingers and toes. 2011 brought another set. 2010 brought a new job working for the Mennonite Central Committee in their Vancouver thrift store. 2011 brought a transfer from British Columbia to Ontario, plus increased responsibilities at the thrift store I now manage. As a result of these two major changes, we're now living in a new place, with a new job, and two children. It was definitely a challenging year, and so in some ways I look forward to 2012: a year of routine.

It's kind of sad thinking that this will be a year of routine. Much of my blogging and life over the years before the need for a steady income have been anything but routine. In some ways, I miss that. But in more ways, I don't. Perhaps it's a pro / con thing, where the joys and challenges of marriages and parenting outweigh the joys and challenges of the non-routine existence. To be honest, I don't think I could have handled much more of the non-routine existence. And as much as I have written about my lack of passion, perhaps I have just naturally gravitated towards those things that I do desire, and having a family of my own is one of them. So is having a steady income, though at times the former necessitates the latter.

That's not to say that I wouldn't still love to go on an impromptu road trip across the country, or a sudden train trip up north. But those things will come. Over the summer we drove from Nova Scotia back to Ontario with two kids and, well, the whole adventure of a roadtrip is pretty well over when you have to stop every hour to deal with something going on in the back seat. Sigh.

Did I, five years ago, think I would be living back in Ontario working in a thrift store and looking forward to routine in five years time? Definitely not. Is this the best place for me? Definitely so.

thoughts on God [pt. two]*

My biggest issue with atheism / anti-theism concerns its assumption that humans are the pinnacle of the natural world. Oddly enough, I also battle against my own anti-atheism concerning this point. Here's why: Christianity also assumes that humanity is the pinnacle of the natural world. The only difference between the two is what prompted the human race to begin with: chance or design. Under chance, humanity is the pinnacle of the natural world because it was selected to be so. Through millennia of evolution, humans rose to the top, able to think and to know that they think. Under design, humanity, too, is the pinnacle of the natural world because it was also selected to be so. God's design put Adam and Eve in the garden, capable to think and to know that they think--to do right and wrong, and to know the difference between the two. And it's true: God breathed new life into the father of humanity and declared him to be very good. Christians like to emphasis that, of all creatures God created, only mankind was made in His image. At a glance then, whether by chance or grand design, both theism and atheism point to humanity as the end goal of the natural world. Despite this, I still cannot believe that I am simply a pawn in evolution's game.

History has proven one thing to be true: when a human (or group of like-minded humans) decides that his will, his desire, his goals and aspirations are of primary importance and carry supreme authority, he will do whatever it takes to enforce them on others. Think the Crusades, slavery, Joseph Kony. The convenience of misinterpreting the Bible for personal gain is evidenced through the various practices of religious violence over generations of Christians, supposedly acting in the name of God. So the solution for atheists is simple: reject God. The rejection of God is placed into human hands, who have complete freedom to make and do whatever they choose. Thus, faith in God shifts towards complete faith in self--in humanity. So, when personal experiences of a supreme being (see part one and comments) is filtered through the atheistic lens of human reason (and science), it cannot be quantifiably proven and, is therefore considered false. But the problem is not God. The problem is the very thing to which atheism would have us turn. Whether God exists or not, humans will always have to contend with human nature. The atheistic belief that the end of religion will naturally result in the termination of violence is naïve at best. Atheism does not resolve the conflicts that result from the human desire for power over one's own choices, direction, and enemies.

So, where is the difference within Christianity? If, as mentioned, humans are still the pinnacle of the created world, how is it different from atheism, and why should there be any different result within Christianity? The critical difference is in the source of human existence. An atheistic, god-less, chance-based world leaves the betterment of a happenstance world in the hands of happenstance humans (religious or non-religious). A theistic, God-centered world leaves the betterment of a designed and created world in the hands of a sovereign creator. The difference is huge. Instead of looking to self for the reason and purpose of existence--not to mention hope--Christianity points to God. God created man for His glory, that their lives would bring glory to Him (perhaps part three will delve into God's ego). The rejection of God only serves humanity in its narcissism and pride. Christianity, on the other hand seeks the pure entrance of God in Christ into the stained realm of creation. Christianity admits that without Christ, who offers freedom from the delusion of atheism and the desire for self-sufficiency, there is no hope for humanity.

*with excerpts from a personal paper on theism.

joy.

The moment came, and the moment passed. It was a moment filled with pain, anxiety, expectation, relief. And when the moment ended, all that remained was joy -- a moment filled with immense joy. Caleb Allan Mitchell Kok came into this world in the middle of a Monday afternoon with a strong, healthy cry of freedom. Music to our ears.

It is difficult to imagine, before the birth of your child, what life will be like when he's born. All of the planning, purchasing, and parenting tips can only prepare you to an extent, beyond which, everything--everything is new. You can't simply research, compare prices, and then put an order in. It's not like buying a new computer. There is no manual to bring home, no extended warranty, no 24/7 customer service support line. It's you, and a newborn. And to this point in my life, I can imagine no greater joy. There is nothing like lying back, with your child sleeping on your chest, his little body rising and falling with each breath.

Immense joy.

Heart-filling joy.

We know that we are blessed to have a healthy, whole, and (occasionally) happy child. Truly blessed.

the anticipation of things to come

Crib? Check.
Diapers? Check.
Stroller? Check.
Car Seat? Check.
Clothes? Check.
Baby? ...
Baby? ...

No baby yet. While Vancouverites have been counting down the days until Friday, Susan and I have been counting down towards a different sort of event. Five days away from the "official" due date, and all we have to show for it is one enlarged belly and a house full of baby supplies. What began nine months ago as a tiny seed (I'll spare you the details) has now grown full term. Some nights, when I'm lucky and baby co-operates, I can actually watch baby move around in his/her little home, though we have yet to try the Maltesers experiment.

I've been given a lot of advice from fathers lately. 90% of the advice has to do with sleep. "Get your sleep now!" is the running motto of many experienced dads. Meanwhile the other 10% generally ask the question, "Are you ready?" And my answer has consistently been, "We're as ready as we can be." Sure, materially we're ready. All the necessities have been bought. Our spare room is furnished, stocked, and baby-fied. Mentally, I guess we're ready. Prenatal classes are over. I now know the various positions to support my wife through the labour process (and am consequently extremely thankful that I have an external, painless role in the process). But seriously, how can one really be ready for this?

I figure we've got at least 18 years of raising this child before letting her/him explore life free of full-time parental guidance. That's a lot of training, encouraging, paying, challenging, supporting, caring, paying, loving, paying, blessing, and yes, paying. And looking at our culture today, I fear for the world our child will grow up in. We will raise our child knowing God because, honestly, we can see no better way to live life. It has not always been an easy way of life for us (and we are aware it will never be an easy way of life), but it has undoubtedly and always been the most challenging and rewarding. I guess that's one of the joys of being parents, to walk with a child through the challenges and rewards of life, and to experience faith through their eyes.

thoughts on God [unfinished]

A couple of weeks ago, I finished reading the book god is not great by Christopher Hitchens. Out of its reading, I have concluded this: It is near impossible to discuss faith with a person who holds strictly to science and reason. I imagine such a conversation going something like this:

"Well, the Bible says..."
"I don't believe in the Bible."
"Then Jesus said..."
"Jesus never existed."
"Okay. Then faith tells me..."
"Faith? Bah!"

Pointless. Absolutely pointless. The most contested area between the atheist and the theist revolves around the reality of the metaphysical, and the existence of God. Atheists, if they hold to a strict naturalist worldview, will never consider whether or not anything exists outside of the quantifiable physical world in which we live and move. In my estimation (and experience), this view is extremely limiting and potentially dangerous. Case in point:

Several years ago I was part of a team leading a group of teenagers through the streets of the Downtown East Side of Vancouver. In an unplanned moment, due to a need to fill some time, we decided to do a "prayer walk" along East Hastings, starting from Main and walking West towards Pigeon Park. I ended up with a group of about 10 teens, and we decided to simply walk East to West on the North Side of Hastings, praying silently as we went. It wasn't long before we were stopped by a woman in the most unusual way. All I remember of the words in her half-minute montage, and only because they were directed at me, were "You son of Satan!"

Let me clarify. As a group, we were not loudly stating our prayers--we were not obvious in our actions as we walked. And before that day, and since that day I have walked along East Hastings a number of times and never been stopped, approached, or yelled at. This has become a moment in my mind that clarifies, solidifies and proves to me the existence of a world outside of the physical, quantifiable realm. It may not be enough for the greatest of skeptics, and I will accept that. Hitchens may suggest that this woman simply had a mental issue, which is medically speaking very likely. But then, my question is, Why at that moment? Why did this woman decide in that moment to spew her words towards us, as we walked and prayed? And more importantly, Why those words? Of the wide variety of expletives available in the English language, why did she choose to get the devil involved? The worldview I adhere to suggests that we are living in both a physical and spiritual world, where a battle continues to rage between God and Satan--a world that we can encounter from time to time.

You may ask, Why do I not experience this more often? To which, I can only restate what I have written about before: the distractions of the culture we live in greatly diminishes my ability to recognize God in the everyday. And perhaps, that is the struggle of atheism. In a world where reason and science rule, in which humanity is the apex of evolution, it is a wonder that one would look beyond himself and the physical world in which he exists. If one does not expect to know anything outside of himself and the physical world, how can he experience anything else? Without the experience of God, modern society would simply turn into the narcissistic, ego-centric, self-gratifying, greedy, and sexually confused kind of world we are all a part of. The distinctiveness of the Christian faith should point foremost to a Creator God through whom all things live, move and have their being.

Of course, this unfinished thought did not touch at all on many of Hitchen's tiresome, sarcastic and anti-religious tirades concerning the historicity of religious wars and the unfounded proofs concerning the Bible (valid points which I hope to get to eventually). But without at least a hint of the existence of God, there would be no point in bringing that up. Perhaps in a future post...

Oh, lympics.

The west coast winter we are experiencing this year is a far cry from last year's weather. While we were snowed in by Christmas day 2008, barely a flake has settled on the ground this season--which is a real shame considering the amount of money the cities around here have put into upgrading their winter equipment. All for naught, it seems; at least, so far. Bad news for the hundreds of thousands expected to arrive in a mere 30 days. When it comes to the Winter Olympics, snow is kind of a necessity.

Not a day goes by around here that the words olympics, vancouver, twenty-ten, or flame do not cross my eyes or flow past my ears. Today was all about warning the commuters to plan a different work schedule during the Olympics so that their regular lives do not interfere with the excitement. Already the fences are up, roads are closing, tents are erected, and the street signs warn of parking and stopping limits between February and March. Oh, and on the cover of our local Metro last week was a picture of some guy hanging an Olympic banner on downtown light posts. The photo generated so much excitement amongst us 7am commuters, it was palatable.

There are other words that cross my eyes and flow past my ears, too. Protest, deficit, anti-corporation, human rights, displacement, F$!# 2010.

I really don't know what to think of the Olympics. Yes, they are a giant, enormous waste of money; for Vancouver, for its taxpayers and even for ticketholders who, like me (if I watch), could get a better glimpse of the games from the comfort of a living room couch without the debt-inducing cost of a ticket--and with cheaper drinks and snacks to boot. Unfortunately, I simply cannot get excited about sports in general, so I am definitely not one to get all antsy-in-my-pantsy about the event. But I can't say I'm anti-Olympics.

Anti-Olympics. The problem with the pervasive anti-olympic attitude around here is that it seems to be no more than a revolt against, and does not seem to be a positive force for change. Yes, the money could be better spent on social issues, on the homeless, in the education system, to reduce debt or avoid the HST. But it's not. And it won't be. One group recently announced a "Prorogue the Olympics" campaign. With one month left to go, it, too, seems like a wasted effort. No amount of protest or graffiti will stop 300,000 people from invading the city. And tackling a torch-bearer will not prevent the lighting of the Olympic cauldron. Awareness of a cause may be promoted, but there is little that foreigners could or care to do--too many of them are here just for a good time. Protests didn't work in Beijing, they won't work here.

I am not against protests, don't get me wrong. Protests raise awareness for necessary changes--and there are a lot of necessary changes in Vancouver alone that have been overlooked and shoved to the side for the sake of the games. Olympics or not, these changes would likely not have been addressed anyway (sorry for my pessimism). At this point in the game(s), perhaps it's time to consider positive alternatives.

And there are positive alternatives. Buying Sex is Not a Sport "is a grassroots campaign to raise awareness and effect change around sex trafficking and the 2010 Olympic games." More than Gold encourages Christians to serve the masses as they live in and travel around Vancouver. Home for the Games invites homeowners to rent out rooms, with half the profit earned going towards the fight against homelessness in Vancouver. And I'm sure there are more positive initiatives taking place during the Olympics. Seek them out, and get involved.

The Olympics is at its root, and as far as I can tell, still about athletes competing against each other to win a prize. For those athletes who win, there is an incredible sense of accomplishment and joy as their national anthem is blared across the stadium. And for those who lose, the opportunity to participate is reward enough. Sure there is a ton of money involved in the back rooms of the elite, and corporations have spent and will receive millions of dollars over the course of the two week event. But aside from a massive, complete, counter-cultural initiative to address the capitalist mindset that thrives off the people (read: you and me), little can be done about such extravagances (again, sorry for my pessimism). This is an opportunity for us to leave a positive impression on the masses. Scream and yell, hold your signs if you must. I will choose to effect a positive experience on our visitors.

so this is the new year.

2009 has come to an end--the year of waiting. Aside from the slow growth of Susan's baby bump, not much is new, not much is different. We began 2009 in the same jobs we ended 2009. We began the year at the same church we ended the year. And we're still living in the same basement suite. I am one year older, one anniversary wiser in marriage, I've had seven or eight more haircuts, two or three pairs of jeans replaced along with two shoes, countless numbers of fill-ups in the Civic, and thousands of kilometres added to the odometer. Not only was it a year of waiting, it really was a year of inactivity in the grand scheme of things. Sure, we were kept busy at work, at volunteering, with places to go and people to see. In that sense, this past year has flown by. Another year has past already. But in hindsight, the year of waiting was just that. A year of waiting.

Waiting for what?

Sus and I talked a bit last night about the upcoming year, 2010, and what it will bring. Change. Twenty-ten will be a year of change. There are some expected changes to come, such as the addition of ten fingers, ten toes and--heck--a whole new body to feed, clothe, sustain and love in our home. With this addition comes the expected change to our lifestyle: a one-income family we will be. But we are also anticipating change there, too. With a job that is slowly driving me to insanity and a requisite internship coming up, we are expecting (hoping, praying) there to be a significant career change--or at least, direction. We talk about this often, Sus and I. At times out of excitement and anticipation, at other times out of frustration and worry.

It's a tough thing to trust when plans don't go as planned. I realize that is an odd sentence, but it's true--sometimes plans just don't go as expected, and what remains in the settled dust is trust. And that's where the excitement and anticipation comes in. We trust in someone bigger than ourselves, and we have to trust in God's unpredictability. It is the most frustrating and most reassuring place to be. And we, in our family of two-going-on-three, have experienced both frustration and assurance over this period of waiting, usually at different times. It's one of the awesome experiences of marriage, to support and be supported when needed. And with the expected changes to come this year, mutual support will be in high demand.

Welcome, 2010!

seeds [part three]

After a summer-long hiatus from West Coast precipitation, it was really only a matter of time before the skies clouded over and the rains began. Summer rains are not so bad, though. There is still warmth in the air, and with the lack of any sort of moisture for months, the grass is in desperate need. So is our garden. While we've been enjoying the vegetables of our labour, we admittedly haven't been paying much attention to its nourishment and replenishment. For good reason, though; in lieu of catering to the growth of our garden, Susan has been busy looking after the growth of a different sort of seed.

It's clear that I am amazed by the growth of our plants from tiny seeds to their present state of, what seems like, taking over the garden. Thousands of leaves, plenty of blossoms and countless root systems developed, all from what once were seeds. And there will probably be a hundred tomatoes grown, another hundred blueberries, hundreds of peas, a couple dozen carrots, and plenty of squash by the time our summer winds down. It's still a mystery to me. Yet, even more mysterious is the growth that began a mere 13 weeks ago. From a seed infinitely smaller than a pea pod, a child has begun to form. While we have the awesome responsibility of ensuring that the right foods are eaten, the appropriate medication is taken, and as little possible stress is experienced in order to provide the best environment for our child, we ultimately know that his (her?) formation is out of our hands. Like the rain falling on our garden outside my window, it is only God's provision that will allow our child to shape and develop.

And by all accounts, all is well. We watched our baby in action earlier this week, moving around and getting comfortable inside his temporary home. (For the sake of this and future posts, our baby is a "he" until we see otherwise). Though he is only three inches in length, most of his parts are there. Already. He has fingerprints. He has nerves. Reflexes. We watched his heart pounding inside his tiny frame. A mystery, and a miracle, at its finest. Perhaps the only greater mystery is how it can be denied that what exists inside Susan's body is a living child.

Three months down. Six to go.

on direction

Direction
--not intention--
leads to destination

--some sage advice from our pastor the other day.

When my internal ponderings unhinge themselves from thoughts of work, marriage, home, etc, I consider, once again, my role as an employee, husband, man, Christian, [soon-to-be-father]. The thoughts come not in a narcissistic, egotistical manner, but in a more rounded set of introspections as one who finds himself in a vast, fallen, sometimes harsh and always complex world. In truth, the questions always (must?) come back to me and what my role within this framework is to be. Am I holding up my end of the bargain? Am I just doing and not being? Is waiting a good thing?

A series of questions crossed my train of thought the other day via a sermon:

What path am I on?
Where does it lead to?
Is that where I want it to end up?

All the best intentions will never lead to desired destination. I can intend to drive from A to B, but without direction, I'll likely end up at Z. To some, direction comes easy. For me, not so much...but that is changing. On top of these questions have come a number of challenges:

A challenge to be wise.
A challenge to be a man.
A challenge to be Godly.

I'm learning that without wisdom, I have no direction. And I am no longer just leading myself. My "i's" have become "we's." The easy thing to do is just let things be and see how they work out. But I know that's not what is expected of me, as a husband, as a Christian, as a man. So what's left? To pick up the pieces. To pick up the pieces of the past, examine them, rediscover them for the misdirection they have offered, to put them back down. And then to walk on. Lack of direction has left me with nothing but dreams and intentions. These, too, I must re-examine for their worth and potential, and then do with them what is best--what is manly, wise, and Godly.

Direction
--not intention--
leads to destination

We had a bird, briefly. (Or, the misadventures of Sweets)

We had a bird, briefly. To Sweets, a poem:

Oh little bird Sweets,
how bitter did you tweet.
You were a beautiful hue:
white and turquoisy,
'til you got stuck to some glue.

Your feathers ruffled,
and your colours muffled.
So back to your friends you go.
Tweet little budgie,
a party for you they will throw.

seeds [cont'd]

I just started a class on the Gospels today, and one of the first assignments was to read through the book of Mark. Since this whole garden thing started, I've noticed more and more the amount of times the idea of seeds and planting is written about in the Bible--either in actuality or in imagery. My ears have become more attuned to any mention of seeds and planting than they've ever been. It's kind of like owning (or previously owning) a Suzuki Swift. Every time I pass another Swift, I notice it. It's not intentional; it just happens because I was associated with that type of car and immediately take notice of it. Yes. Reading about seeds and planting in the Bible is kind of like owning a Suzuki Swift.

Jesus said, "The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground. He sleeps and rises night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows; he knows not how. The earth produces by itself, first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. But when the grain is ripe, at once he puts in the sickle, because the harvest has come."

Now I know there are scientific and biological reasons for plants growing and sprouting the way they do. Our beans and our onions are doing this, but my naivetée in the science of plant growth renders me astounded by the fact that actual plants are sprouting out of what were once tiny seeds. I sleep and rise night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows; I know not how.

It seems that one of the current fashionable ideas about the kingdom of God is that it is 1) a present reality and 2) a future reality--that the kingdom of God is here now and is coming soon. It's a complicated theological idea, but one that, even in this short parable, seems to hold some truth: the kingdom of God is a present reality as it grows and ripens and will be a future reality when it reaches full maturity. The coinciding fashionable idea about the kingdom of God is that we are a part of it--that we are in this kingdom even now, and we are a part of its growth and maturity. There was a time when I thought I had all that figured out, but in a sense, I am relearning what this means--that it is more than simply doing what is right but in believing what is right. The "doing" is nothing without a solid foundation of faith. I think. But if there is no faith, than what is the point in doing? Right? All that to say, that this kingdom--this present and future reality--must grow out of something, just as seeds grow out of soil. Maybe faith is the soil from which this kingdom grows.

What if Susan Boyle Couldn't Sing?

By now we've all heard the story, we've all seen the video, and if we're the sort of person, we've cried the tears. But, as Dennis Palumbo asks in The Huffington Post, What if Susan Boyle Couldn't Sing? What a great question.

Palumbo writes, "the unspoken message of this whole episode is that, since Susan Boyle has a wonderful talent, we were wrong to judge her based on her looks and demeanor. Meaning what? That if she couldn't sing so well, we were correct to judge her on that basis? That demeaning someone whose looks don't match our impossible, media-reinforced standards of beauty is perfectly okay, unless some mitigating circumstance makes us re-think our opinion?"

I don't know what my natural reaction would be to the video, had I not watched it already knowing the outcome. But I can guess that Palumbo is right--that had she not been able to sing so well, I would have felt justified to judge Boyle based solely on her looks. Sad, n'est pas? How is it that I--that we--have gotten to a point where looks are all that matter? And I say 'we' because, from the amount of hits her video has received on youtube, it seems that all of us with an internet connection or any access to the media reacted the same way to watching Susan Boyle walk on stage as Simon Cowell and the rest of the audience did. "Don't judge a book by it's cover" is the absolute basic lesson we can all learn from this episode. The cliché doesn't give any justice to the fact that we all, on a daily basis, are quick to judge. And worse yet, we are all capable of justifying it. Truth be told, however, it's easier to judge than to blindly accept.

So what more could we learn from her if the beauty of her voice hadn't blinded our vision? Jean Vanier, in his book, Becoming Human, offers an answer. He suggests that fear is the basis of our prejudice and exclusion. "When we have constructed our lives around particular values of knowledge, power, and social esteem," he writes, "it is difficult for us to accept those who cannot live by the same set of values. It is as if we are threatened by such people." We are threatened by those who don't live up to our "media-reinforced standards of beauty" because it is easier to look down on them than to relate to them. For in relating to them, we become them. And in becoming them, we recognize that on the most basic level of our lives, we are all human. We are all the same.

That is the deeper lesson that can be learned from Susan Boyle. Yes, the story is a feel-good one. It's a story that leaves us full with some sort of joy and contentment. But I don't think it's because we've all taken a bite of humble pie. For when the next contestant walks on stage who looks like Susan Boyle and sings horribly, we will only validate our initial derision, forgetting that Susan Boyle ever existed.

seeds.

We planted a garden a few weeks ago, Sus and I. It was one of those early spring days with a bit of summer flavour--flip flops and all. Perfect for an afternoon of planting. Neither of us have really tended a garden before, so this garden of ours is really an experiment in many ways. It's an experiment in tending nature. It's an experiment in discovering what can grow in our garden. It's an experiment in quantities, as we have no idea how many plants a bag of seeds will bring us--though it did take a little while before I realized that we had enough seeds for several feet of rows, not inches, as I had misread. And it's an experiment in patience.

Today we've begun to see the veggies of our labour. Little green shoots of carrots, onions and peas have emerged from their darkened slumber, breaking through the soil. Grasping their first breath of sunlight. It's a beautiful thing. I am quite amazed by this whole phenomenon called gardening. Three weeks ago the tiny seeds we delicately dropped into little holes in the soil seemed incapable of anything, let alone anything the size of a carrot. Yet, the beginnings of real vegetables are poking through. That vegetables actually grow from seeds only millimetres in diameter confounds me. I know there's a lesson here.

pockets of sadness.

Listening to Q yesterday, one of the guests said something quite profound, though I'm not sure he realized it. He was referencing an interview earlier in the week with Charles Montgomery who suggested that Vancouver ranked low on the "happiness" meter. So a few days later, this guest, in the midst of a rant on how great a city Vancouver is, despite the statistics, mentioned that within Vancouver there are "pockets of great sadness." Those words immediately resonated in my mind. Pockets of sadness. He, of course, was referring to the Downtown East Side.

But in his study, Montgomery wasn't talking about the amount of happiness on the East Side, where one might expect there to be a deep level of disatisfaction in the poverty-stricken neighbourhood. He was talking about the upper-class West side of Vancouver. His study ultimately reveals that "the richer the city you live in Canada, the less likely you are to be happy." We've all heard these studies before, and we've all heard the cliché: money doesn't buy you happiness. And as much as we know it's true, we all have this built-in, media-driven tendency to buy the next best thing that will truly make us happy, don't we?

But are the pockets of sadness really in the areas where we find the greatest amount of need? Or are they in the areas where we find the least amount of want?

The Beatitudes

"God blesses those who realize their need for him,
for the Kingdom of Heaven is given to them.
God blesses those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
God blesses those who are gentle an lowly,
for the whole earth will belong to them.
God blesses those who are hungry and thirsty for justice,
for they will receive it in full.
God blesses those who are merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
God blesses those whose hearts are pure,
for they will see God.
God blesses those who work for peace,
for they will be called the children of God.
God blesses those who are persecuted because they live for God,
for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs."