Author Archive


The Lenten Season officially comes to a close with what is known as the “scourging of the altar” concludes Lent. The betrayal is nigh, and the Good Friday awaits…but let us not skip ahead, but fall back to the week that was…and will be again.

Saturday before the Triumphal entry upon a burrow known as a an ass

A morning of flashbacks uncontrollably cracking through

beating my body like a desert hot wind against skin

cracking skin

letting the pain out

need to put it back in

Wonderful conversations

In workshops around

TheGood Grief Journey in to the New

What it means to be church?

Hold the Holy Silence?

Grow circles of Support?

Live through change–as pieces of Grief, pastoral care.

Holy Spirit things

Make it through

Lost to the wilderness…

Unable to resist

the pain renders through an already ravage system

Palm Sunday

Some say a Triumphal Entry,

Brother Jesus coming with those cast away from society on one side of the city

with dying reminders of the oppression of religion and Empire along the streets.

While Empire celebrated and marched on the other side,

flexing their muscle to bully and intimidate

Usually waving palms and singing Hosannas,

Folding crosses

and celebrating the Prince of Peace

Rolling through my own entries

Memories physically, emotionally and spiritually crippling

scant moments of lucid awakeness

before once more returning to fitful sleeps of thoughts creating

Waking nightmares

That have to be lived once more

what truly is one’s own entry of triumph

to sing Hosanna?

Monday’s Temple Toss

Human functions of worship

not used to include

but to exclude and bear burden

not to a sacred sanctuary but a money pit

a den of thieves

Jesus causes a stampede and throws tables chasing away

those that desecrate Holy Love.

Me and Little man,

convalescing,

still trying to get Pandora’s demons back into her box

seeing what will remain to work through.

Nothing creates sacred sanctuary

like a boy and his dad

watching cartoons

Discourse Tuesday

Where Jesus whither’s figs, talks with religious types and the end of oppression…

Body won’t let the demons reveal

it tremors with weakness,

still unsure if fully up,

after the recycle of harsh symptoms sans seizure racked my body

Shrink shows tools

that are of use,

to unpack the thoughts

and bring them to better use

An election goes

the way of awry

and people are left with depression inside

eating fries and sipping coffee

even your friend admits you don’t look healthy.

Why won’t the demons either pop or go back in the box?

The constant teariness is most obnox.

Spy Wednesday

Some would call it Holy,

but it is tied to the ending of ideals

and goodness…

of the oppressors plotting the End Game

for a rambling labourer turned rabbi of peace and love

perhaps a bit on the nose,

but it is a time of sipping coffee and inverting the game

plotting to build belonging

by shattering oppressive stereotypes

the demons are beginning to crawl back in

the one’s the body lets me deal,

crumble to dust

with the tools given

to explode the thoughts….

Wilderness time closes…

as we prepare the table

Maundy Thursday

Short form of Latin Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos (A New Commandment I give you)

The demons I cannot handle,

are locked away once more

for a healthier time to pick those scabs

A Day of rest

refresh

await the Holy Table to be set

and the water of the first sacrament to be poured

the words, A New Commandment I give you…

is the one to love.

Jesus showed

by humility of washing feet

to know and show love

The unfamiliarity

in the hot sanctuary

not what was expecting

yet the words around Gethsemane

and prayer

being awake and present

bringing it real

not just gospel story real,

but in everyday life

will we be willing to truly sit with

be present and awake with,

one another…

with ourselves?

 

 

Advertisements

Beth nods to Moon, a trench coated figure moving in the far back with a ball cap pulled down. Retired Constable Sean James followed the gaze, he knew security was good and would get the individual. Due to the dress looked very androgenous, but they had rounded up many that had decided to cause a ruckus.

Jacobs was in Jacobs form. The Holy Spirit was moving through him, Beth thinks as she continues to scan the crowd. She chuckled at the thought. This old broken down writer turned preacher she knew very little about who looked her in the eye when she was in the Bionic Knight armour and said no to her offer of help. Now today he was holding a parking lot Mass of Hope he called it. The Open Table of Love. It sounded corny as it went through her mind, but the corn bread was real.

Another break out of campfire hymn singing. As it quiets down, Jacobs picks up the bread “On the night he was betrayed, betrayed out of fear and hate for change, for the old ways dying away. For those oppressive powers and control authorities realizing they needed to release and let go and let come the new Holy Love. Jesus took bread and broke it. This is the bread of hope.” As if on cue lunch bags, snacks, you name it started coming out, and a potluck smorg was shared with all. It was St. Jude’s way. Communion was not just a simple piece of bread it was eating, like the feeding of the masses miracle. Jacobs handed the bread to Moon and James who let it out to the crowd, as well as the baskets of sandwiches.

Moon smiled as she watched the bread and food move into the crowd. The other reason St. Jude’s was so relevant and real, as she had begun to understand as the area MLA (Member of Legislative Assembly) wasn’t because of some Platonic, Metaphysical or Western-Constantinian Theology…it was simple love through ensuring folks could get to treatment, medical appointments, kids were cared for, and when months were tight in the socio-economically diverse area bills were covered and food was in pantries. She had once asked Jacobs to see a budget sheet, he burst out laughing and said, “Talk to Elder James, he gets heart palpitations at least 8 times a day with how that thing is bent, broken and abused.” When she pushed on how they still survived.

He gave this grin with a chuckle. It wasn’t cockiness. It was a depth of humility. It was the type of look when he locked eyes on you that you truly believed it was all going to be alright and the good would win. “Because we give.” It made no sense to her political mind, or her basic undergrad economics mind, yet here was the result. The more they gave the more…they had in tangible and intangible ways. Almost like there truly is enough for everyone in the world.

He nodded to Beth Venus. The next part. “Then he took the cup, knowing that his blood was about to be spilled. That he was to lose his life for simply sharing the story of Holy Love and belonging. This is the cup of promise. Drink and be at the table together as family.” Beth got volunteers to begin rolling out coolers with juice, pop and water to share.

Sean James admitted Jacobs has driven him batty the entire time he has known him, from his reporter days forward.  James also knew if he did something it was with conviction and belief of actually helping people. His eyes watched the crowd reacting. Lee held that through love you dissolved hate. James thought he was nuts, and said “I told you so.” After St. Jude’s bombing and as the crowd’s gathered today.

It had looked like it was going to snow, but it had held off.

And now what he was seeing.

She noted tears in people’s eyes at the simple acts. Those in hate garb, some let it drop off as they made eye contact for the food. Simple, kindness.

Moon, James, and Venus note the trench coat drop off, the yellow vest, the cap off…

The costume underneath.

She was already vibrating wanting to dodge at super speed towards Jacobs. Beth could hear her words through magic vibration. “this life took my Johnny.” She had known her friend was hurting. But had been improving, and had entered this place of what Venus believed was contentment. Looking at the situation now it was resignation of having a plan on a place to misdirect her anger and denial.

She had promised no powers.

But here was the Speedster flying towards Jacobs ready to tear him to pieces.

An audible…

“johnny”

“Go now in Holy Love of the Creator, the blessing of Brother Jesus, and the Family of the Holy Spirit. Go. Embrace. Simply say, I love you.”

As a yellow vest falls into the crowd and vanishes.

The pop shattered the moment.

Mum

Posted: April 17, 2019 by Ty in Soul Psalms
Tags: , , , ,

You were our mum

but you were Mum to a whole lot more

any child that came through our door

you would care for.

A listening ear

a hug

Boxing up hand me down clothes

to mail inter-provincially

a pantry stash of food

always willing to help a friend

or a neighbour who just may be a new friend

tea was always ready to put on

You fought fiercely for your kids

and grandkids

but held us to standards

of decent civility

humility

neighbourliness

nothing more devastating

than a look of

disappointment upon your face

you were a neat lady

craft and bakey

simply believing in love, and God.

You taught me the basics

I grew from that rock

Always no more

than a phone call away

for aide

a chat

a laugh

advice…

In the dark days

after the long fight

where your soul never gave quarter

of hope’s light

you were weak and weary

cancer teary

it was not cancer that claimed you

but cancer created ptsd

dimmed your light

one final night

I miss you

Your smile

laughter,

I hope as you look down from Heaven today

I am a son you can be

proud of.

From the Grand Tea Party

with Jesus and friends,

now the Nana to your grandson’s friends gone to soon

new light,

new laughter

new stories and adventures…

may the lives lived here

still honour what you taught to be true.

 

I miss you, Mum.

Medicine 20/20

Posted: April 17, 2019 by Ty in Soul Psalms, Spirituality
Tags: , ,

A wonderment if medical staff were allowed to be curious with patients…

So long ago,

the anxiety waved

first tour done,

another to begin

mother with cancer

told no big deal, old news

take these pills

they’ll calm you too.

Wonder if time had been spent

discussing what was past tense,

and how it affected one’s present tense?

A tremoring hand

a doctor not wanting to dig

off to drain blood one goes

back the doctor asks no question

no quarter need be given

the answer he states

unequivocally

is one must drink more water…

with hindsight 20/20

one ponders if simply ability

willing

to play at curious

may have scuttled

what was yet to

come undone.


Image result for star trek forgotten historyChristopher L. Bennett is an excellent writer of Star Trek novels. I first encountered him with Enterprise, but then picked up a Department of Temporal Investigation (2012) Forgotten History which is truly a story of the Federation wrestling with time travel, this reality foisted upon them due to ships called Enterprise, and their captains (Archer & Kirk).

Image result for dr. mccoyIn the midst of sorting out the ethics and repercussions, a debrief interview with Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy, in regards to the benefits of time travel for historical research justifying the risks,  brings us this McCoyism to mull in our own journeys (p.87):

 

“No, I do not. What’s so blasted great about the past anyway? Rampant filth and disease, primitive medicine little better than butchery, ignorance and hate everywhere. . . .They say people who don’t study the past are doomed to repeat it, but in my experience, it’s the people who can’t let go of the past who end up repeating it.”

What in you past can you not let go, so you continue repeating?

 

In just googling around found this fun page Top 10 Dr.McCoy quotes.


In just two months my monthly trip to the comic shop to pick up the new Heroes in Crisis Image result for detective comics 1001will come to an end. As this has aided a renewal in some fun in life, I have decided I should figure out another series to pick up and read. With news Supermans titles would be going weekly it became a bit too expensive to pick up. With Detective Comics #1000 I was piqued with the new storyline starting in 1001 and picked that up.

Though Tom King was the writer of H.i.C. and Batman #68 looked like a standalone story to sample. Well, it was part of the Knightmares storyline (part 6) of the deconstructing of Batman. I will try not to give any spoilers.

It was a fun story of a bachelorette night with Lois Lane and Selina Kyle discovering friendship and shenanigans.

Image result for Batman 68How can this be a Knightmare in deconstructing Batman/Bruce Wayne? Seeing joy is wrong?

No.

It is deeper than that, and for anyone that has perhaps journeyed through trauma you can get it. You become hyper-vigilant to seeing the horrors, and the catastrophic. It leads to constantly being a fight/flight/freeze scenario. You replay your life, and relive that which you have lost. For Bruce, it was seeing Selina who he had lost, and coming to the realization that there was nothing that meant more to him. The inability to feel/focus on gratitude it one of the biggest emotional numbing agents within PTSD before and during healing.

The other piece is in the conversation between Bruce and Clark, about the worst nightmare for Bruce. The quiet. Bruce hates the world that makes Batman necessary, but what happens if Batman is no longer necessary?

What is the greatest fear of the situation you are in?

Batman-68What is your major support? Have you told them so? Authentically, have you paused. I have written previously of the Jonah Effect, those that bail on us when crisis or illness arrive. Yet, how often do we truly acknowledge those that have continued the journey with us and been there for us.

The Knightmare was for Bruce realizing that which could possibly be no more, because he was too focused on everything else to let himself be present for the good. That is Selina.

Today I was proud to be able to share the supports of my wife, kids, 3-5 close friends, Dad and his wife that have continued on this journey of pain, sorrow, and now healing with me. There is gratitude which provides more healing. It was humorous and learning to see this type of struggle from our world shared in our current mythology.

Before you go forward, whereever you are on the journey, truly take time and pause–

Who are those that support you and you support them in the journey?


The first question arose about the retired Supra agent Jacobs had been seen with after the shoot out at the trailer. He hated turning Sunday Service into a media blitz, but sometimes the Liturgy (work of the people) was about being the catalyst for change. Jacobs chuckled it was a very Catholic Workers or Social Gospel or Liberation Theology movement, but it was true. Today in the parking lot outside the office, as the writ had been dropped and Melanie Moon was no longer an MLA, and the Social Credit party ceased to be. It became outdoor church.

Already the mud slinging by the former governing and former official opposition parties had begun. Jacobs’ heart was to filled with sorrow to track the rants and lies. The fact that old things were dragged up to attack character, but no newer patterns of same behaviour were there to show legitimacy or current causation. That is even though it may be true (an attack, not a smear) it was without merit and did not allow for the fact that human being grow and evolve over a lifetime. Or the stirring of the hate and fear pot. His opening prayer had been simple at this cross roads of grief:

“Loving Creator, we are a people, a province at the crossroads. Change is grieving. We are trapped in anger and denial. Gnashing our teeth and shaking our fists against that which is no longer possible or plausible. We need hope, we need to let go that which was, and be fully present in our new reality, a province where all belong simply because they are. A true community with an open table, that loves as our Brother Jesus commanded and lived for us to do. Let us surrender our pain in this wilderness so that we can let come the new blessings that await… Alleluia!” Jacobs prayed.

As hecklers from the back in blue shirts screamed at him about not being “Heretic! Racist! Not a Christian!”

There was police present, as well as the strip mall complex security. Jacobs waited as the regular attendees of St. Jude’s began chanting “Alleluia! Alleluia! Love Wins!”

Moon nodded to him. Sean James and Beth Venus closed ranks around Jacobs, they knew this could turn sketchy, as he answered the question about Louie Regis. Beth spoke silently into her up turned denim collar so Speedster was aware. Kyla Storm, the Speedster was just on the outskirts of the crowd, her costume hid under a trench coat but ready if powers were needed. Venus stood by her promise to Jacobs, hate had to be defeated with hope, not super hero involvement.

“It’s always funny to get a press question during a church service.” Jacobs spoke again into the outdoor microphone. The regular congregants of St. Jude’s were alternative verses of Jesus Loves Me and Come in, Come in and Sit Down you are apart of the family. “I did not know retired Agent Louie Regis well. I knew of his reputation when the police came to tell me someone had assassinated him. I use that term, because folks need to understand murder/assassination are the same thing. Usually it is title or socio-economics that determine the word choice. Louie may never have made it above working class salary in-spite of his white collar look, but he served our Country. He retired due to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and should’ve been able to rest and heal.” Jacobs takes a sip from the McCafe coffee he had picked up on his way to the parking lot. His eyes scanning for anything that could be a long shot gun. The goon mobs of extremist party members were still trying to agitate, and he noted the attire of some known hate groups as well. He was happy to see that the police and security were starting to root, arrest and move along.

“Unfortunately the passion he put into protecting others, and being their pillar of strength he did not think himself worthy enough of. I hope the Governor General allows for a full honours funeral, and I pray this is a change in the national dialogue around trauma, mental health, addiction and violence so that we can truly become a nation that loves our neighbours, but also loves ourselves with the same love. Louie’s death is a reminder what happens when we only fulfill one part of the second Great Commandment, love of neighbour without honouring our own Imageo Dei. Now back to your regularly scheduled service.”

Melanie Moon opened a well worn New King James Bible, and reads to the gathered crowd:

34 But when the Pharisees heard that He had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together. 35 Then one of them, a lawyer, asked Him a question, testing Him, and saying, 36 “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the law?”

37 Jesus said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and great commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”

She hands the microphone back to Jacobs. He finishes off his cup and deposits it in a recycle bin. “Anyone with a passing knowledge of the Hebrew Bible or Donnie Osmond Musicals (editors note for the youngsters: this is a Dad joke about Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, fyi, my daughter says her aunt does Dad jokes better). Knows we need to pay attention to dream work for sometimes it is simply our subconscious dealing with bull shit, other times it is a healthy place to release the hurt and pain. Sometimes it is where we learn…and on a very slim moment it can be a mystical experience.

I had one of those multi-coloured mystical moments. To the citizens of this province I want to let you know that our hero is not coming to pull us out of this quagmire of fear and hate. The original Bionic Knight is gone.”

Jacobs let that sink in, seeing some faces tear up, even the hecklers, bullies and aggressors in the audience were gob smacked.

“His name is Rick Saturn, his wife was our beloved mayor that vanished last year, Susan Kobwash. They have two amazing super heroes as children blessed to experience this life with Cerebral Palsy and Autism respectfully. They have joined the pocket verse between the multi-verses…” a few heart beats to let that sink in. “They are living their best life, as both Susan and Rick, and their kids shared with me, he has moved through the destruction wrecked by the a-typically cellularly ingrained Post Traumatic Stress Disorder into what is known as Post Traumatic Growth… or to a simple shit disturber like me, the path of Light renewal.”

A break out of singing old hymns from all around. Then the voices become more unified as they sing an old favourite of St. Jude’s, John Lennon’s Imagine . As the singing comes to a close, before he continues, Jacobs opens up for the Lord’s Prayer. As is the custom of his congregants, and to the beauty being sent out via the news. They do not pray in English, they may if that’s their language, but Latin is heard, Cree, Blackfoot, German, Russian, many African and Island dialects. For Jacobs he calls it the Pentecost moment of service, where the simple prayer is said and heard so all may hear it in their language.

“Saturn wants us to release our anger and hate. To grieve. Let the tears flow don’t hide behind toxic human beliefs. Feel. Love. He knows he can be in the next phase of life, for the hope is here already within each of us. The still small voice that speaks what is honest, good, and true. That which allows us to have compassion for ourselves and neighbour, and to truly know that the only way forward to a bright future is by embracing the beautiful Mosaic like is gathered here today.”

Venus and James watched the rabble rousers, the next part was the heading to the closer, and the benediction was going to be the tell.

“So my family, however you identify we are connected through the holy spark, that blessed breath that gave us life. Listen to the simple words of Jesus, Love your neighbour as yourself. It is how we show love for God. If anyone piece falls down, we are not truly living the sacrament of Holy Love…and then hate and fear win. So Love.”

Another break out of campfire hymn singing. As it quiets down, Jacobs picks up the bread “On the night he was betrayed, betrayed out of fear and hate for change, for the old ways dying away. For those oppressive powers and control authorities realizing they needed to release and let go and let come the new Holy Love. Jesus took bread and broke it. This is the bread of hope.” As if on cue lunch bags, snacks, you name it started coming out, and a potluck smorg was shared with all. It was St. Jude’s way. Communion was not just a simple piece of bread it was eating, like the feeding of the masses miracle. Jacobs handed the bread to Moon and James who let it out to the crowd, as well as the baskets of sandwiches.

He nodded to Beth Venus. The next part. “Then he took the cup, knowing that his blood was about to be spilled. That he was to lose his life for simply sharing the story of Holy Love and belonging. This is the cup of promise. Drink and be at the table together as family.” Beth got volunteers to begin rolling out coolers with juice, pop and water to share.

She noted tears in people’s eyes at the simple acts. Those in hate garb, some let it drop off as they made eye contact for the food. Simple, kindness.

“Go now in Holy Love of the Creator, the blessing of Brother Jesus, and the Family of the Holy Spirit. Go. Embrace. Simply say, I love you.”

The pop shattered the moment.