Everywhere…


“later that night i held an atlas in my lap ran my fingers across the whole world and whispered where does it hurt? it answered: Everywhere everywhere everywhere.” Warsan Shire    globe

My wife, Patricia, and I have lived overseas for 37 of our 57 years. During those years we have seen humanity at its most loving and perhaps at its least. We have held babies decimated by AIDS. We have walked the raunchy red light districts to meet women longing to turn their lives around. We have been robbed. And we have been treated so generously by many of the locals. For 22 years our home was Thailand, a land where more people were involved in the industry of sexual exploitation than there were born-again believers.

Just nine months after our arrival  in 1991, we experienced the first of two military coups. Scenes of  angry protests, the burning of cars, and more tragically, the shooting of live ammunition against unarmed student protestors filled the nightly news. The second coup d’etat, occurred in 2006, and was more divisive. The following years were filled with accusations and violence between the red (pro-democracy) and yellow (pro monarchy) shirts.  One morning in 2008 we woke up to the news that the yellow shirts with bats and clubs had seized the International Airport in Bangkok.  It became a prison and a dump for a week as they held  control for what they believed would lead to a final showdown.  The real turning point came in 2010 when the the red shirts decided to  blockade the downtown core for several weeks. The army was called in to disperse them once and for all.  I remember too well the panic in my wife’s voice as she exclaimed over the phone, “They are sending tanks into the streets, Peter!” The red shirts fled, but not after torching dozens of important government and commercial buildings in their wake. 

We moved to France in 2014, thinking life would be calmer. But anti-semitic riots broke out less than a month after we arrived. This time we encountered riot police, smelling the tear gas and burning tires as we zigzagged our way to join our two teenage daughters in the apartment. Six months later we heard never ending sirens signaling a deadly terror attack at the offices of Charlie Hebdo.  A dozen were left dead and others injured. Nine months later came another well-coordinated attack, this time on the famed Bataclan theatre and a few bars. It happened just as Parisians were settling down for a calm evening with friends. The death toll was over a hundred.  And then, six months later, after a short vacation, we left Nice only to find out upon our return that a man drove a large truck into a crowd of people celebrating Bastille Day crushing to death over 80 pedestrians! Add to these horrendous events the brazen attack on an 85 year old Catholic priest who’s throat was slit while performing his duties in front of his Catholic congregation. Understandably the country of France lived in paranoia believing the enemy lurked everywhere and the easiest group to identify came from those seeking refuge from all the wars in the mideast.

The Somali poet repeated the same word thrice, “Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.” My work required me to travel from time to time. I personally became aware of a divided world, everywhere its systems broken and lacking. This reality sunk deepest when in 2017 I travelled to Iraq to be with some of my American friends who worked for Preemptive Love Coalition. They were struggling with daily death and violence they had witnessed. I went to be a friend for them, but deep down I wanted to see, smell and be moved by the brokenness. 

When Matt sent me a possible itinerary of where we would visit I was most excited and afraid of a planned trip to Mosul. He asked if I would be up for that, to take part in a food delivery? Of course, I was. However, when I got there I breathed a simultaneous sigh of disappointment and relief when the team was told by American Intelligence that it was unsafe to go in. Instead we spent hours in a large camp called Arbat where thousands of displaced people lived in non-descript cement block rooms. There workers with arbatPreemptive Love Coalition had made many friends and created opportunities for self-sustaining.  It was there I was reminded of the need to show up and do something. This group lived out generously their slogan: 

“We are the first to show up and the last to leave…”

I returned to France where I was introduced to a young Syrian named Khaled. He had been largely depressed and rarely liked to leave the tiny one room apartment he lived in. The first time I met him was over a coffee. After the formalities, he blurted something that surprised me, “I hate all religion!” That was pretty well his opening line. I think I might have said, “Ya, me too!” And then he told me his story, how he loved his country and how  he joined the peaceful student revolution with high hopes to bring about needed change and freedoms. And then the government turned on them. Soon after the country imploded into sectarian and religious violence. Now I’ve known Khaled for over a year now. We have become friends. He has helped me get insight as to why people in that part of the world and in any part of the world would hate religion, one word, hypocrisy. 

Everywhere. War, violence, persecution, hatred and poverty continue to wreak havoc on our globe. Since World War 2  there has never been a time on our earth when so many people have been forcibly displaced.  The UNHCR reports that at present 68.5 million people worldwide have been forcibly displaced. That’s an astronomical amount. Syria, now in its eighth year of a civil war, accounts for the greatest number of people fleeing. Almost 65 percent of its population is either internally displaced or have fled elsewhere in search of safety and a new future. Other countries like Afghanistan, South Sudan, Yemen, Eritrea, Venezuela, or even Colombia have broken down. The famines in the reclusive country of North Korea are starving it’s most vulnerable. While the genocide in Myanmar that dominated the headlines for weeks is sadly forgotten by most. Thank God for the many relief organisations worldwide that provide relief to the weary and broken. But the never-ending need has stretched most them to their limits.

Of course solutions never come easy. Until our politicians and leaders are stirred by the present crisis, our weary world will continue half-heartedly to use hit and miss strategies. In the meantime the need for resilience on the part of refugees has never been greater. After treacherous journeys over mountains, deserts and seas they find Families-who-have-fled-th-009themselves in strange places where language, money and boredom are their daily grind. They battle on with a lack of belonging and no neighbour to call when they need help. Their futures point to a bleak life on the streets and not much better in overcrowded refugee camps.  The demanding solution requires all of us, just like the various organisations and associations, to show up and do something.

Perhaps the most virtuous thing we all could do is to provide hospitality to those who no longer have a home, a culture or a sense of belonging. I love a new program dubbed 100 Nights of Warmth that one of the churches in Paris is creating. Nightly, twenty men, all refugees, will have a warm space to spend the cold winter’s night. They too need more volunteers to show up. And that is the lifeblood of our world, caring people who volunteer their resources, energy and time so our world will thrive into the future.

And so, here we are, now 37 years of living in countries not our own.  My wife and I are in some small way displaced people, but by choice, and with a roof over our head, a salary and comfortable with the local language. But we understand, to a degree, the culture shock, the adapting and the feelings of being lost. Perhaps this is why our hearts are being turned towards the despair of the Syrians, Afghans, Iraqis, and other migrants of poverty and war. We want to show up by living out a story of generosity. If we could, and it’s in our heart to do so, we’d create a space here in Paris where those who were chased by bombs and bullets, those who don’t belong, the broken and afraid,  could sit and be safe and find ‘home.’ It will be a beautiful place where Hope is resurrected and Dignity gets restored. Travelers from a far-off country will come and be embraced with the a message of sonship and daughtership. It will be for many a happy place and maybe of new beginnings.

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Suicide


“He is absolutely the last person in the world I would have ever dreamed would do something like this!” Gladys Bourdain.

Suicide is like that, a shock, a sad surprise. When I read what Anthony’s mother said above, I wanted to invite you to grapple with this sensitive subject, suicide. Anthony Bourdain’s death comes sadly on the heels of designer Kate Spade who also took her life a few days before. Her husband, too, expressed great shock and surprise. There were no red flags. Suicide rates continue to rise alarmingly in North America. Someone said if it was classified as a new virus suicide would be called an epidemic. In the States, statistically, you are three more times to be killed by your hand than by someone else! Japan, one of the richest ABcountries in the world, is also known for having one of the highest rates of suicide in the world.

But really, it comes closer to home when a friend or family member attempts and maybe succeeds in leaving this world. That is why I write today, I have friends both young and old who have taken their lives. When something like that happens to a close friend, family member or associate we don’t really like to talk about it. Perhaps we feel too ashamed? Deep despair is never easy to talk about. I read today of a caller to a radio show that lambasted the selfishness of Anthony Bourdain, “How could he do this to us all?” That question: How come? It keeps being asked over and over by those who have to come to terms with a loved one’s death.

Not only are the young prone to suicide, in 2012 the highest suicide rate occurred with those aged between 45-59. Males are four times more likely to die by suicide than females! And if I may interject here, there’s another group, the LGBTQ community whose rates of suicide attempts among are significantly higher, maybe up to three times higher! But what may have surprised us most about this past week’s news is that suicide strikes even the most successful. These two celebrities both enjoyed wonderful careers that would be the envy for most of us.

I don’t have the definitive answers to the question, “How come?” But I have read enough and lived long enough to tell you that one of the greatest stressors today is the pressure to always be strong and successful. So much so we find it nearly impossible to admit our darknesses and flaws. We hate being in the furnace of self-doubt, even though, if we let it do it’s work in our lives, it can refine us and make us stronger. It takes the same grace to carry our less than perfect self as it does to live joyfully.

I believe we should teach acceptance of the fact that we all struggle with the darkness or the ‘dark side’ of who we are. All of us have an ‘achilles heel.’ The question then becomes can we carry this personal struggle honourably and with grace? Grace not shame. If society or a religious community or the workplace or our families attempt to shame us into change, rarely do we change. We merely hide. And that especially is lonely and painful.

I wish there were more answers. Being aware and connecting with those struggling with sadness or loneliness is a good start. And it is not easy to know who is struggling in a ‘social media’ culture of putting forth our best face, literally! We must allow others, ourselves included, to show up with our less than smiley faces. Creating safety allows our friends and family members to be vulnerable with us without the shame. Conversations now become safe.

Some other ides that come quickly to mind to help those in the throes of depression:

Let them know personally that their lives have meaning and bring real meaning to us.

Let them know that their struggle is not an anomaly. Others too, many others, have been through times like this.

And continue to communicate that things WILL get better. Time has a way to bring good things, better times, laughter even, to our lives. Weeping lasts a night, yes, maybe many nights. But there will be a morning when joy fills our hearts again.

Finally, telling the stories, your survivor stories, can only bring about more courage in the soul of the one who is ready to give up.

Dear God, Wash Those Tears Away!


Wash the tears away, all away
The horrors of today and the cries of yesterday
Dear God, wash those tears away!

A little child lies on the dirt
No breath remains, no longer alert
A bomb, lethal gas, Oh Syria, you hurt!

She was only 12 when he came
The darkness covered, but he had no shame
It’s my fault, she said for years, I am to blame!

DumptearsTears…. 
Stream…
Down…

This man here lost all he had
Years on the street left him half mad
A little bread, a lot of wine, still he was sad!

And this young body was ravaged by disease
Daily pain kept bringing him to his knees
He groaned daily with tears, “Oh my God, please!”

These ones wore labels the others gave
‘Useless’, ‘You homo’, ‘hey ugly’, ‘stupid slave’
Both he and she wore them sadly to the grave!

Wash the tears away, all away
The horrors of today and the cries of yesterday
Dear God, wash those tears away!

The gun fired off again and again
Student voices screaming, it’s insane
Broken dreams, red-stained streams, now all that remain!

Sigh…sigh the memories we loath to replay
Unspeakable hurt we carry, too hard to keep at bay

They broke us all in many different ways!

Tears…. 
Stream…
Down…

Cry now, yes, it’s okay
It’s not your fault that you feel this way

The wounds you carry will not hold sway
Mourning lasts the night, but then comes the day!

He’ll wipe your tears, stop the stream, and wash the pain away!

 

Revelation 21:4 (KJV)
And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

Acidvicimtears

Toilet Talk Never Trumps Truth


Donald Trump has done it again, he has managed to insult all eleven million people of Haiti and a pile more in some countries of Africa. He did it with a vulgar comment. He called those places “s…-hole countries,” (Pardon my french!) And then he actually made a comparison to show how much better Norway was and asks why can’t we get more of them to America? It is shocking to hear those kinds of descriptors from the president of a country that prides itself on being a melting pot of cultures and nationalities.Trump-6 Maybe that is another problem, melting!

Margaret Mead and James Baldwin once had a conversation on America that went like this:

MEAD: It isn’t a melting pot, is it?

BALDWIN: No, it isn’t. Nobody ever got melted. People aren’t meant to be melted.

MEAD: That old image from World War I is a bad image: to melt everyone down.

BALDWIN: Because people don’t want to be melted down. they resist it with all their strength.

MEAD: Of course! Who wants to be melted down?

BALDWIN: Melted down into what? It’s a very unfortunate image.

I love this conversation. It’s hilarious, yes, and I agree, people weren’t made to be melted down! People all have an identity. I carry continually around in me dutch ancestry. And its true of us dutchies: wooden shoes, wooden head, wouldn’t budge! I am proud of my heritage. And you are probably too of yours. No one asked my permission though to be dutch or to like Gouda or to be anything? We are who we are. Every last one is uniquely made and shaped by many factors. Deep down in every person’s heart is a desire to be real, accepted, loved and to make a difference in this world.

Trump isn’t the first to show prejudice, it has been around as long as man has. A nice guy named Nathanael once heard about this new prophet in town and asked where he came from. Philip said, “Nazareth.” That was all Nathanael needed to hear to discount this new prophet guy named Jesus. He says, my paraphrase: “Are you kidding me! Can anything good come out of that shit-hole Nazareth?” (Apparently Nathanael spoke french too! Pardon!)

But Philip wisely said, “Come, see for yourself.”

The biblical record agrees that Nazareth was so obscure that it wasn’t even mentioned once in the Old Testament. It was a rude and crude place where they spoke with an accent belittled by the whole population. They even had a label for those who came from that area, ‘Galilean!’ That word was not a compliment, but a racist epithet. And guess what, this despised place is Jesus hometown for thirty years!

Isn’t it so much like God to do something like this? Mmhm. “Lets make sure that Jesus goes and lives in the fringes!” (Fringes = the backwater, the wrong side of the tracks, the trailer park, Hicksville, a s-hole of a place)! Paul reiterated this weird way of God, that is to chose men and women that the culture of the day overlooked and exploited and abused, the nobodies, and God does this why? This is the point: “To expose the hollow pretensions of the somebodies.” 1 Corinthians 1:26-27 Whoa! That’s God!

With one little word, ‘Nazareth’, Nathanael was immediately blinded to the amazing possibilities of the grandeur of Jesus.

I am sure that many Africans and Haitians today wished they could live in a country like Canada or France, (maybe not the USA right now). Life has not been easy for them. Earthquakes and poverty and famines… But imagine, to hear a man from the highest position of authority of one of the wealthiest countries say that they don’t count, that they come from an outhouse country; must be devastatingly humiliating. How can this president or anyone be so blind to the beauty of whole races and cultures? But yet, maybe, hopefully, his insensitive comments might have the opposite affect too. May it spur them on to greatness.

My first language was Dutch. I was so good at speaking dutch that when I went to school for grade one in New Brunswick I didn’t understand what was going on. I must have looked overwhelmed. The school told my parents to stop speaking Dutch in the home so I could catch up. But to this day I still have a slight accent when I speak English. I have often been asked if I come from Newfoundland or Ireland!

But though I experienced some language challenges young, I was taught well that I am a unique-never-to-be-repeated-creation of God! This God knew that one day the Dutch boy who barely passed grade one would speak for Him not only in English, but in Thai and now in French, (accent and all)!

I love this question, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” It reminds me that what God is after is not my pedigree, my nationality, my invincibility, nor my brilliance, my superpowers, my perfect accent, or my attempts to do great things, He is after the real me! He chose me, and He called me by my name.

So here’s the thing, this amazing guy that spent his childhood, teenage years and young adulthood living in the worst of place in Israel, from this, um, outhouse town, Nazareth, comes God’s very best. And before Jesus did anything significant, not a single miracle, not one public teaching, the Father breaks his silence and says, “I am so proud of this one, that’s my son (accent and all)!”

That’s why I believe that when God looks at you and I and every Haitian and whoever, you get the point, He doesn’t see us through the filter of disgust, disappointment or doubt. He doesn’t see our skin colour, eye-shape or hear our funny accent… He just sees us through grace and love. He knows you have His DNA and he knows that He can inspire you, develop you, and deploy you to be a blessing no matter where you were born.

Say Yes to 2018


Almost everyone I talk to says 2017 was the most stressful year of their lives and for our world. Not to be an Eeyor, but I doubt that the number of crises that the world will face in 2018 will diminish. One would hope there will be less crazy weather, but signs point to an increase. Scientists no longer have to prove we are at a critical point when it comes to Global Warming, we all get it, (except for the Donald)! And wouldn’t it be great if the terror attacks decreased as well? But humanity has a penchant for finding excuses and new ways to bring terror to the earth. And though we’ve always had poverty, it now touches all parts of the world, even where they have long lived the American dream.eeyore2

In the real world scores find themselves in a continual crisis mode, just  providing for their families is more than enough to bare. Where and who to lay blame  for the negative stress caused by today’s definitions of true success? We are being stretched to breaking points.

And, while we are still at it, the sexual liberty so long vaunted, too, is being challenged in the same way the AIDS crisis of the 80’s did, maybe more. Women have risen up in unison wanting, and may I add, deserving the respect that is their due. So “No” to your stupid little games of lust! “No” to our “body parts’ as your “plaything”. And we are just touching the surface on a malaise ignored for too long.

As we enter a fresh New Year, 2018, know the same old problems continue breathing down our necks. Though we try to be upbeat as the music at our parties, we cannot but know this new year will have more than its share of new fears. It begs the question, “Can there ever be a true revolution of thought and action on how we relate to the earth and to each other? Can there be peace on earth? Can we live our way into a new reality? Should we even try?” I’m just one person here writing, but I say, “Yes!” Just because our track record of late doesn’t seem promising, we cannot, must not, give up hope. I mean that. Just because politician’s promises have fifty shades of truthfulness, there has to be something true to believe in. If the universe is not against us, nor the gods, and if we humans can still do beautiful things, generous things, how much more, enamored by “unconditional hope” and new thinking can real change come to us.

As a believer in Christ, I hang on and pray daily the little “as-it-is-in-heaven” prayer and never forget to repeat the best part, “so let it be on earth!” I feel sometimes like shouting that last part as though the earth needs this reminder too! Heaven is not just a pretty idea, if it is anything, it is about dignity, worth, beauty, sharing, peace, and ultimately, LOVE. Heaven begins on earth when we discover our own beauty and worth. It continues when we see it in others. That’s a good step to understand that our neighbors to the east, west, south and north carry the same divine image or DNA or worth as we do. We are not that different. We really are “our brother’s keeper.”

“So do not say I am not able Yes!
That’s a lie, a kind of fable
All you need is a willing heart,
just say, ‘yes, and do your part!”

Recently someone said that we all need to find our deep inner “yes”. Although saying “No” to the evil impulses in our being is a step in the right direction, more powerful yet is a resounding inner “yes”. For sure, say “No” to the “Us and Them, mentality” and to bullying in all its forms, great, but better is a deep “yes” to “You’re my brother, my mother, my fellow human being and I see you.” Because we all want the same thing in 2018… the why we were created: to enjoy each moment in friendship, family and community on earth.

 

I invite you to let go of anything that keeps you from including, sharing, reconciling, and growing in love. I invite you to say yes to heaven, that is, heaven on earth.

Kiev


A midnight arrival to Kiev and my tired eyes were happy to see two smiling Canadian faces waiting for me. It would be my first time to be in Ukraine and I wanted to learn and be a blessing if I could. Driving through Kiev felt oddly familiar, like I was going through some downtown neighborhood in Toronto. It felt homey. I wondered if the many Ukrainians who had moved to Canada had similar feelings to the ones I was having, only in reverse.

The conversation in the car moved quickly to the main language spoken in Kiev, was it more Russian or Ukrainian? I tried to go over my knowledge of history about the Russians who made Ukraine part of the Soviet Union in the 1920’s. They changed everything, the signs, added nondescript buildings, but could not destroy the people’s hunger to be independent and Ukrainian. Now the Ukrainian language was coming back strong, signs and all. Some regions hung on to the old ways and of course old ways die hard. Cory, who spoke Russian, was convinced that Russian was spoken more but Ryan disagreed. They argued good naturally; I saw in them an example of today’s Ukraine being played out before my eyes.

Off to bed way past my bedtime but my mind was not able to shut down. I wondered again how I got to live in this history-filled Europe. Not just ‘my france’ but most of Europe brutalized by all its wars to extend or protect borders. So much bloodshed, bombs and bayonets. Religion played a  part at the heart of some of those battles. In a couple of days I would walk to a high point in the city overlooking the river a viewpoint well chosen by Russia’s elect to erect the Motherland Monument, proud and high. But Ukraine was independent, 26 years now, and actually my own country of Canada was the first to recognize their independence. (We Love Ukraine 🇺🇦 !)

Besides my ministry obligations, I had three full days to explore. The orthodox churches awed me with their artworks, architecture, and  history. We walked into a wedding like I’ve never seen, replete with symbolism that I didn’t fully understand. I will remember the walks through the old city and see where the Dignity revolution took place, about 100 innocents shot down by snipers at the order of the ex-president. Then there was that 62′ meter high Motherland Monument built by the Soviets and called by some of the locals MotherlandMonumentas ‘Brezhnev’s daughter.’ Some people wish it were torn down. Just below was an outdoor war museum consisting of statues and tanks and warplanes.

I remember Ryan pondering out loud about why we actually needed such monuments. We had talked about the USA wanting to tear down historic statues of men who impacted their world. Even Canada’s first Prime Minister, Sir John A. MacDonald, was under attack in Canada. “We need to be reminded of where we came from and how we got to here and now,” both of us agreed.

That led further to a conversation wishing that ethnic groups everywhere in the world could finally settle their past and move on with hope and respect. “Wouldn’t it be cool if every Canadian,” I added, “would join a movement to heal the wounds of our First Nations?” I listened carefully to hear Ryan’s response to my statement. “Yeah, but too many people are still misguided that our natives have been coddled, they would never jump on a healing train!” Maybe. I thought of the words of Christ, “You are in the right place when you are truly a peacemaker.” I want so much to be that.

Truer words - a fresh coat of paint won't make it go awayI had come to Ukraine to share something with young people. My topic dealt with walls. Walls do more than demarcate, they divide and isolate. They scream hateful words. The dreamer in me would say to those young souls “imagine all these people living in a world unwalled!” I wanted to point out the invisible walls between the Russian and Ukrainian but chose to go further than two nations.

Invisible walls don’t need blocks, bricks and mortar; all they need is for someone to bump your books all over the floor and then call you an idiot for their mistake… and inside of you an invisible brick is laid. It’s that easy! A harsh word is spoken by someone, another brick. Someone laughs at us, one more brick. Walls are made of a few bad experiences, a betrayal, a few foiled expectations,  biases passed down from parents, politicians and peers and the wall grows. There’s no shortage of material for us to build invisible walls.

If only we could be bridge-builders and not wall-makers. Thank God there are those doing that in our world. Ryan and Ashley from Canada are doing that in Kiev, so is Cory. I shared a small moment in their lives. Thank God that in a walled world that is increasingly biased, separated and isolated there is a growing group of people that can imagine another way to be in this world. We are the revolutionaries of love that understand that true worship is not simply raising our hands, eyes closed, to good music, but by walking hand in hand eyes wide open with love and respect for all other creatures on this planet. It’s that simple!

UkraineGWs

War no More!


I spent a couple of hours recently in France’s War Museum, Les Invalides. Two world wars, Napoleon’s wars, and seemingly every war between France and Germany since time began is immortalized in some way! Those two countries perfected the absurdity of war!IMG_2797

Room after room I was able to caress various cannons, machine guns, bayonets, and even missiles of every size. Of course many french painted what they thought to be the glory of defending the Republic. But it all became overwhelming for me. “What have we done to our world? Are we not our brother’s keeper?”

Of course the slaughter houses for the Jews affected me the most. What were the Germans thinking? Where was the church? I could not resist pondering the counterintuitive message of Christ and it’s implications, mainly, the love for all and for our enemy. How could the helpless ever be treated like the scum of the earth, or worse than!

War is dehumanizing. War is a destroyer. War breeds more war. War changes everything and never for the better. There are no wars to end all wars. Violence produces violence that produces more violence. C.S. Lewis once described our world of war as ‘winter without Christmas.’ The bleakness of war freezes our hearts in fear and loathing for our fellow man. They are our brothers!

It’s time to have a new vision for humanity and an alternative narrative for our future as peoples of the earth. Yes, it’s high time to live out the radical kind of life and social order described in the Beatitudes. Peacemakers arise! Lovers of justice dance upon the tragedies of the inhumaine and show us a new move. Persecuted ones don’t give up, keep alive in hope and help us make all things new.

Jesus was not offering another religion for the purpose of controlling or manipulating people. He was giving us a transformative way of seeing and being in this world, He called it a blessed way or the way of true happiness. He actually lived it out before us. He incarnated love. He went about forgiving people. That didn’t go over well for the temple managers who made a killing selling livestock for sacrifices. Oh well. He even prayed for those who smashed the hammer into the nails that pierced his flesh. We could never imagine such love without it being modeled before us, could we?

His teaching on loving those different from us, on blessing those who misuse us, on leaving judgment to the Father makes little sense to most. The inclusive message he taught was revolutionary and so sacred. The words about the last and the least being the first and worthy of honour, simply amazing! Can the poor be blessed? Jesus says the possibility is there. Can mourning lead us to laughter? Jesus says it’s a step to the sons of freedom laughing for joy.

It takes time to catch the heart of the one who spoke these unmatchable words of life. That’s why we need to repent, meaning rethink the way we see others and do life on earth. It is the only way for our planet to survive really. It is.