FFT

There is no instance of an Apostle being driven abroad under the compulsion of a bald command. Each one went as a lover to his betrothed on his appointed errand. It was all instinctive and natural. They were equally controlled by the common vision, but they had severally personal visions which drew them whither they were needed. In the first days of Christianity, there is an absence of the calculating spirit. Most of the Apostles died outside of Palestine, though human logic would have forbidden them to leave the country until it had been Christianized. The calculating instinct is death to faith, and had the Apostles allowed it to control their motives and actions, they would have said: “The need in Jerusalem is so profound, our responsibilities to people of our own blood so obvious, that we must live up to the principle that charity begins at home. After we have won the people of Jerusalem, of Judea and of the Holy Land in general, then it will be time enough to go abroad; but our problems, political, moral and religious, are so unsolved here in this one spot that it is manifestly absurd to bend our shoulder to a new load.”
-Charles Brent

of de Beauvoir and Loren... (ick...)

A friend of mine has been trying to challenge me on my relatively conservative view of women and femininity. Heck, he's (note: it's a -he-) a pretty radical feminist from a Church perspective, all things considered. Though I think his viewpoint deserves merit, I must admit that I carry a fairly stereotypical traditionally Protestant viewpoint of women, which, I must also admit, is not likely to be the best viewpoint. However, in light of these stats, I can understand why perhaps many in the church, myself included, must change, or at least modify, our understanding of these matters... 'Women make up 35% of the world's paid labour force, head up 33% of all households, make up 95% of all nurses, perform 62% of all work hours, yet receive 10% of the world's income, own 1% of the world's properties, make up 70% of the poor, 66% of illiterates, 80% of refugees, 75% of the sick...'

FoodSharing

Certainly, I'd like feedback from others who were there, but I think the inaugural dinner/salon/soiree was a relative success. Sincerely, the meeting of such interesting, fascinating minds and hearts did me good. Discussions ranging from creation stewardship, to missional strategy, to the role of prophesy, to speaking healing into people's lives, to politics... Wow! I am humbled by the brilliance and the diversity of His children.
Certainly, we shall do this again, hopefully, with a few more bottles of Riesling and Shiraz to go around... :)

Paradigm shifts (groan, how uninspiring...)

Running on the theme that's been running through school lately, I realize there are "eras" that come and go. I am also aware, to a certain extent, at how powerful culture is at dictating our actions and functions in the world. At various points in different "eras", I've revisited that concept... I think I'm coming to a breakthrough of yet another "era" of culturality, and how one moves in (or, really, through, or beyond) that... I think that might be a good thing... The trappings of culture sometimes become just that: a trap... I cannot advocate for homogeneity, but neither can I endorse or accept cultural values that are simply wrong... I think the breakthrough might be that I don't have to explain or rationalize wrong cultural values so that I can make sense of the world, that I can begin to rationalize the actions of others, but that it's OK to state that they are wrong, they are broken, they need fixing, and not to have to apologize or rationalize that...

The Plague of the 21st Century?

I suspect I shall probably end up writing some more about this topic at other times, seeing as it's so huge, and I would've written sooner, but I've been swamped lately.
I started doing some volunteer clinical work at one of the major HIV/AIDS clinics in Toronto, to get my hands wet again. It's surprising at how much has changed, even over the span of my relatively short career. I feel like a bit of a medical student again, as I no longer remember (well, mainly cause they didn't exist at the time) medications and treatment regimens.
I am also surprised (though I really shouldn't be, as I knew it as 'fact' in my head) at the profile of the people that I meet: old (even very old, with new diagnoses in their 70s) and young, gay and straight, white and non-white, married and not, immigrant and Canadian-born, drug users or clean. I am further astonished at how relatively well, even downright healthy, HIV carriers look here in Canada. I had kind of forgotten that people no longer really die of AIDS here anymore, as I still remember vividly people dying of AIDS in front of me in Africa.
I think it's that last statement that strikes me most. Some patients are able to body-build here and get good nutrition, so you would not recognize the face of HIV walking the streets of Toronto. It is a far cry from the gaunt, emaciated, lethargic half-corpses that die lying on some mattress in an African hospital hallway... that's the injustice that cries out for me...

Ask, and it shall be given unto you

OK, so yesterday we're praying that my folks are safe overseas, and guess what happens today? An EARTHQUAKE, for crying out loud! What the....?
Though, to be honest, I think that's humbling: What a silly, greedy, selfish thing to ask, that my folks stay SAFE. Safety is highly over-rated. I suppose I should rather be asking that they would be kept under His shadow, and that should be enough for me, even if they do fall into a large volcanic crater due to the sheer force of the tectonic plates shifting and melt in the piping hot lava bursting up in the clefts.... :P

There's Nothing to fear but Fear Itself...

One of the things that really bugs me about myself (amongst the many things) is fear. Which stymies me: how can I dare be afraid when One has told me, "It is I! Do not be afraid!". But it's crazy at how much stuff I'm afraid of; really, it's crazy how much stuff we're all afraid of, at the end of the day, isn't it?

As Charlie Brown would say....

AAAAUUUUGGGGHHH!!!!! Snow!!!! And it fell on my nose and eyelashes!

Whoever dies with the most toys.... dies...

It's been a while since I've read something truly jaw-dropping... but this week, the newspapers have been writing about how doctors make soooo much money.... and certainly, looking at the numbers, I was SHOCKED!... apparently, 224 family doctors in our province (now, to be fair, there are several tens of thousands, if not in the hundreds of thousands of family physicians in Ontario, so it IS a very small minority, and, also to be fair, every other category of physician makes wayyyy more than the average family doc) made an average of $627,000 last year. Each! I had to do some calculations in my head.... for me to earn that much in a year, I'd have to work about 21-22 days a WEEK! Full time! With overtime! It completely boggled my mind how it was even humanly possible to earn that much as a family doctor...
Which brings it back to the money issue... I think, inevitably, the gift of giving is one that almost automatically belongs to me, and I have (usually, and hopefully, very infrequently) few problems with that issue... but sometimes I find it's hard with the added expectation that that comes with... that people come to me, directly or indirectly, with their hand open, with excellent reasons and pitches, as to why I have to help fill that hand...
Now, to be sure, all the excellent people and organizations that I am supporting are well deserving and are wise stewards in what they are given, and they all participate fruitfully in what they do. Blessings on all of that. But it seems strange to be stuck with the assumption that I'm an eternal fount of cash flow, perhaps even forgetting that I have other gifts and skills that also can be used and developed and nutured...
Yes, yes, I also hear the detractors out there saying, oh poor you, sucks to be you with so much money.... I even know which ones you'd be...

Here we go again...

Oh dear, when it rains, it pours. So, another one of my women comes in this morning, with a week to go, and I am afraid to tell her I think her baby's dead. Send her to the hospital, where instead, they can tell her so, and prove it to her by showing her the heart's no longer beating (was desperately hoping, hoping, hoping, I was wrong... though I knew I wasn't...).
This, of course, gets no easier (see posting from February 22nd, 2006)... I suspect I will be the one to deliver her, as I'm conveniently in the hospital this weekend. Which I suppose is appropriate; I diagnosed death, I should bring it to completion.