FOR ME, I MADE THE RIGHT DECISION

Chemo drugs that I passed up.

It's taken me a few days to consider this post on Wrights Lane...Will I or won't I, that was the question?

Then, finally, I've written about most everything else in my life; so why not this? I reasoned.

A long story made short...against my oncologist's original recommendation, I opted out of another four months of chemotherapy treatments in my eight-month bout with colon cancer involving both ileostomy and permanent ostomy surgeries and necessary six weeks of advance chemo and radiation treatments to control and eventually facilitate removal of the invasive tumor.

Pretty heavy stuff, right? 

Well, in my 83rd year, I was just not prepared to undergo another four months of chemotherapy treatments and the debilitating side effects that go along with it. At this stage of my existence, I am more interested in quality of life and not the quantity of it. Why make myself sick(er) all over again with a pending recovery period that can last months? Especially when I am currently feeling the best that I have in recent memory.

The cancer tumor that was on the verge of totally blocking my colon is gone. What else can I ask for? I'll take my chances with whatever precious bit of life I have left! And managing the permanent ostomy appliance that hangs from my stomach as an inherited nuisance.

My oncologist earlier explained that she does not usually recommend further chemotherapy following surgery for someone over 75 years of age, but in my case there were no other over-riding health issues (heart, lungs) and she thought that I was strong enough to withstand follow up treatment. In the end, she left an inch-thick binder of relative information in my possession and the ultimate decision on my future. After three weeks of thinking about little else, I made that decision "Thanks but no thanks!"...and a load was lifted.

I can honestly say that I have never enjoyed a summer as much as this one. When I am not exhausting my 2,000 written words a day budget, I work on my house and yard at my leisure and spend countless hours outside on my porch eating most breakfasts and lunches, watching people go by, counting my blessings and -- yes...napping. If God is willing to give more summers like in 2020, then so be it. In more ways than one I am ready to accept whatever comes my way.

And, with any luck, I still have a few Wrights Lane musings still in the old think tank. 

KIDS NEED TO KNOW THEY ARE UNIQUE... AND INCIDENTALLY, "BLACK LIVES MATTER TOO"

Demonstrations, riots, physical confrontations, political unrest, man's inhumanity to man, all dominate news headlines today. Sad part is, there is no end in sight.

If only there was some way of explaining, particularly to individuals who should be in control of public behavior today (national leaders/politicians, religious devotees, management, labor) that they can better satisfy egoistic impulses by earning the goodwill of others than by attacking them, we would succeed in controlling festering human aggression better than by any other means advanced thus far.

You would think that after all this time (how many thousands of years?) the human rights issue that continues to rear its ugly head, would have been worked out to mutual satisfaction. The trouble is that we have a wrong conception about being "created equal." While incorporated in our national constitutions, its usual simplistic interpretation is manifestly false.

Admittedly, this is a difficult societal issue to wrap one's mind around and perhaps I should not be attempting to do so. But I will anyway...because Wrights Lane is my party of sorts and I'll cry if I want to (as Lesley Gore sang back in the 1960s).

Time and again we hear the idealism that all human beings are created equal and therefore should have the same rights. The contention is incorporated in our national constitutions, but I can't help but believe that the usual simplistic interpretation is manifestly false. After all, some people are fat, others slim; some are intelligent, others just a little slow; some are blessed with certain talents, others are not; some are weak and sickly, others are strong, some have 20/20 vision, others are blind and, yes, some are black while some are white. There's no denying those facts. Even identical twins are not completely equal, especially when raised under differing circumstances.

Given the reality of all that, however, all human beings should have the same chance to be happy, self fulfilled and, dare I say, respected for the individual they are as opposed to the color of their skin, their country of origin or a certain way they appear. And, on that subject, I want to take just a moment to suggest that, regardless of race, color or creed, (or mixture of same) we should be instilling in our impressionable young people today their uniqueness before they are exposed to the inevitable mean-spirited bullying and bigotry of the real world.

Just as no two snowflakes are alike, our creator made us all unique individuals and we all have a purpose in life to fulfill. Kids need to learn to be proud of their differences and to never be shameful or wish that they were someone else. It needs to be reinforced that it is what they do with that God-given difference that really matters. God made them special and loves them just the way they are.

Even as adults we must learn to celebrate uniqueness and differences -- all at the same time. 

And on a not completely unrelated subject...

Equal treatment of the races is paramount in today's world, but historically there continues to be resistance. There is no denying that certain races have been downtrodden, discriminated against and relegated to a lowly third class (or less) status primarily by white elitism as life has evolved over the centuries.

When we hear about the Black Lives Matter movement our (Whites) first reaction is to respond by rationalizing that "All lives Matter". Initially, without thinking, that was my response too. Of course all lives matter, but the truth is that has not been the case -- Black lives have not always mattered.

To understand the power of a movement that began in 2013, we have to jump back nearly 400 years and grasp onto perhaps the same struggle the Black community fought then; the idea that all people should be treated fairly in the eyes of the law and in every institution.

Black lives did not matter when they were inhumanely transported like livestock from Africa. Black lives did not matter when they were lynched by the hundreds at the hands of the KKK. Black lives did not matter when they were attacked by dogs as they protested for equal rights.

As someone who is constantly bombarded with the howling of “but all lives matter”—and the heated conversations that inevitably follow—let me explain. Black Lives Matter is not a term of confrontation or an exclusionary demand. As Columbia Law Professor Kimberle Crenshaw explains, saying black lives matter “is simply aspirational;” it's a rallying cry for a shift in statistical numbers that show that people who are black in the United States are twice as likely to be killed by a police officer while unarmed, compared to a white individual. According to a 2015 study, African-Americans died at the hands of police at a rate of 7.2 per million, while whites were killed at a rate of 2.9 per million.

The large discrepancy in the Blacks vs. Whites crime statistics, in my mind, can be attributed to the fact that Blacks are more inclined to break the law as a matter of survival due to unemployment and other less than adequate living conditions that exist in some community neighborhoods in both the U.S. and Canada. With many young Blacks, crime has become a way of life...They know no other way.

Ultimately, as far as this ugly issue is concerned, when public responses in all walks of life become human responses as opposed to racial responses, that is when we’re going to see change as a society. 

I would make one slight change to the BLM slogan, however, and that would be "Black Lives Matter Too."

In Ontario our government has developed a most commendable road map for addressing racism and improving outcomes for Black communities in the province. It is well worth reading and ultimately supporting. Details of the program can be viewed at https://www.ontario.ca/page/ontarios-anti-black-racism-strategy.

SHE HEARS NO EVIL, SEES NO EVIL & SPEAKS NO EVIL

I have a very dear friend who is well informed and always on top of things. But, guess what?...She is a prolific reader, often going through at least a couple of books a week, but she does not read newspapers or listen to the news on radio or television. 

My friend also stubbornly resists participating in anything related to social media even though she is computer literate and has an email account for which she primarily shares jokes, funny cartoons and photographs with a select group of friends. She explains her philosophy this way: "I hate confrontation and the bad news that dominates the media today. I don't need it in my life! If my friends or family think something is important, they can tell me about it -- and they usually do."

Negativity is not in her vocabulary but involuntary facial expressions often give her away when resisting the temptation we all feel to say something bad about a person or situation. In uncomfortable moments, she has been known to merely walk away.

Now, I ask you, who is better off -- my friend or you and I?

WANT FREEDOM? SURRENDER THE CONSTRAINT THAT HAS BEEN HOLDING YOU BACK IN LIFE

This post will include two brief stories, both involving man's best friend (a dog, what else?) and a common quest for freedom in all of us, man and beast alike.

My little rescue dog Matilda, a pug/Yorkshire terrier cross, passed away a couple of weeks ago. She had issues unknown to me and, as my daughter Cindy put it, "an enigma that you couldn’t help but give your heart to!" To put it mildly, we formed a bond but it took time for me to understand a few things.

Because of what little I knew about 'Tilda, I was paranoid about her being a runaway and at first kept her constantly on a leash when outside of the house.  Unattended, she would bark constantly. A strong little mutt, she broke a number of leashes and did indeed get away from me. Each time I died a thousand deaths and scoured the neighborhood for extended periods anxiously looking for her, always to little avail. She was like greased lightening.

More times than I can count, I dejectedly returned home after a search of several blocks, only to find, much to my relief and surprise, Matilda had beaten me back and was sitting casually on the doorstep as if to say "where have you been you silly man?" The last couple of times she got loose I did not even go looking for her, knowing that after dong her thing she would be back.

Finally, I realized that Matilda just wanted her freedom to do what a dog does. But she liked me and her living conditions sufficiently to always come home. In fact, I got the sense that our bond was strong enough that she did not want me to get upset if she was gone too long and she would look for me to lavish her with hugs, pats and good girl praises and treats on her return as a form of reward. She knew that I was proud of her and would generally soon find a spot on the couch or a comfortable chair for a contented nap and dreams of her latest adventure.

In retrospect, that little enigma of  dog taught me something!

Quiet coincidentally, this week I heard of a similar story that enabled me to put my experience with Matilda all the more into perspective. In an honest bit of self-awareness, a man consumed with a constant level of anxiety confronted his struggle head-on during a life-changing moment of clarity. He explains it this way:

"I used to complain a lot. I used to worry a lot. I used to feel frustrated a lot. I used to question my worthwhileness a lot. I used to agonize over my unrealized dreams a lot. But all that began to change through my neighbor's dog, of all things.

"That puppy was neglected, left tied outside to a makeshift leash all the time. Enslaved by a collar at the end of a rope, the frustrated animal cried day and night. Then one day, I saw that the dog was loose. Somehow the leash had broken, but the poor thing just lollygagged around as though it were still tied.

"I thought, 'This animal gets an opportunity to be free and doesn't take it, then it doesn't deserve to be free.' Then an inner-voice spoke to me: 'That's you. You're looking at yourself.'

“This humbling revelation was the beginning of real freedom for me. My anxiety had taken me to a point in my life where I simply had to surrender the unrecoverable past and the unpredictable future to Divine Providence."

Just as easy as that, we can all have personal freedom.

Why remain tied to the burden of the past and the anxiety of a future over which we have no control? Let it go! Turn it all over to that higher power that some of us call God.

When we are free from all of the baggage that has held us back, we can be comfortable with where we are at in life. Just like a dog who is free from a confining leash but has no desire to run away permanently from where he/she is already at.

THERE'S MORE TO NUMBER SEVEN THAN MEETS THE EYE

There are many sacred numbers in the Bible: i.e. three patriarchs, 10 commandments, 12 tribes, 40 years, the list goes on. But more than any other, one holy number appears just about everywhere in the Bible and that is seven (#7).

God rested on the seventh day, Joshua marched around Jericho seven times, and the Menorah in the Tabernacle had seven branches. To honor the seventh month of July, it is interesting to look at what gives #7 its unique spiritual power.

Amazingly, in total the number seven is mentioned more than 700 times in Scripture. The Book of Revelation alone contains dozens of sevens – churches, bowls, lamps, seals, and the list goes on. In ancient Israel, the number seven was thought to be a symbol of divine perfection. As opposed to other numbers which derive their power from human endeavors, seven comes from God.

What evidence is there for God’s identity being related to the number seven? If we look at the famous “branch of Jesse” prophecy in Isaiah chapter 11, we find that the Holy Spirit would come to rest upon the Messiah in seven distinct facets:
1. “The Spirit of the Lord shall rest on him רוּחַ יְהוָה ruaḥ adonai
2. The spirit of wisdom רוּחַ חָכְמָה ruaḥ hohma
3. And understanding וּבִינָה ruaḥ bina
4. The spirit of counsel רוּחַ עֵצָה ruaḥ etza
5. And might וּגְבוּרָה ruaḥ gevura
6. The spirit of knowledge רוּחַ דַּעַת ruaḥ da’at
7. And the fear of the Lord” (Isa. 11:2) וְיִרְאַת יְהוָה ruaḥ yirat adonai

Collectively, these attributes form the sevenfold essence of the Holy Spirit. When read in translation, this might seem like just a list of abstract qualities. But in the original Hebrew, the words form a spiritual package, exploding with power and offering new details that suddenly burst with meaning.

It should also be acknowledged or cautioned here that while world religions have used #7; occult systems and magical societies have also embraced it, and endless superstitions and mythologies give importance to the number, so be careful when reading about it and giving meaning to it, dare I say applying it for personal and gainful reasons.

All that said, for unknown reason, I have always been intimidated by the No. 7, but not so with some outstanding professional athletes who successfully wore the number on their jersey. Here are just a few of them. 

John Elway, Ben Roethlisberger, and Michael Vick are among the top National Football names who wore #7. The National Basketball Association has had players find success with the jersey "7" thanks to Carmelo Anthony, Pete Maravich, and Kyle Lowry. Some of the Major League Baseball players to wear "7" during their illustrious careers include Mickey Mantle, Barry Bonds, and Joe Mauer. The National Hockey League is represented by famous players like oldtimer Howie Mornez, Ray Borque, Paul Coffey, Phil Esposito and the great Tim Horton.

MOUSE WOMAN STORY: PART 2

Mouse Woman and the Missing Tooth: Greed made her do it!
(Worded as told to a small Indian child)

We left Part 1 in this mini series with a very young Mouse Woman suffering a guilt complex over several lies she told about losing a tooth.

"We must do something about this," Grandmother exclaimed. "Fetch me a drum!"

Ermine Woman was always on hand ready to serve, so she responded to the command and Grandmother began to beat on the drum very softly and calling for spirit guidance.

When she stopped drumming, Grandmother broke the momentary silence. "First, we must find the tooth." Then she sent Ermine Woman to tell all the young children in the village to search for it.

They searched and searched, but no one could find the lost tooth so they went back to the house with Ermine Woman to report to Grandmother.

"Fetch me the drum again, Ermine Woman!" Grandmother ordered. And once again she began to beat on it very softly and for spiritual guidance.

Then she stopped drumming. "Perhaps I can find the tooth," she said, "for I have very sharp eyes. Come with me, Ermine Woman, while the children wait here with Mouse Woman."

And off they went; leaving the children and Mouse Woman who seemed to be looking more and more distressed, as if indeed she might die the way Real People died.

"Ermine Woman," Grandmother said. "I think our small girl has been pilfering the stone pine-hut cakes." For it was well known that Mouse Woman was very fond of stone pine-nut cakes and off they went to a small house where many food boxes were stored.

"Search in that box!" Grandmother ordered, pointing to a large box of stone pine-nut cakes.

So Ermine Woman searched and by and by she held up a small hard cake that had been nibbled around the edges.

Grandmother took the nibbled cake. "Now find the tooth!" she commanded.

And almost instantly Ermine Woman found the tooth. It was right near the spot where the hard little cake had obviously been nibbled.

I think our small girl has been pilfering the stone pine-nut cakes," Grandmother said. And though her eyes twinkled a little, her voice was very stern. For greed was the Great Sin -- especially for a  young person as high-ranking as Mouse Woman.

The two went back to the house with Grandmother hiding the nibbled cake under her fur robe and Ermine Woman holding up the lost tooth.

If the tooth fits...

"You've found her tooth!" several children squeaked...And they crowded around to see it.

Mouse Woman shut her eyes not to see the tooth. And now she was looking even more distressed, as it she might indeed die the way Real People died.

We've found a tooth," Grandmother agreed but "it may not be Mouse Woman's." After all, there were many small children in the room too with teeth missing. So she ordered Ermine Woman to try it first in the gum-gaps of the other children and she dutifully went from child to child trying to fit the tooth into vacant sockets. Bu the gaps in their teeth were always too large or too small.

"Then it must be Mouse Woman's," Grandmother exclaimed. "Open your mouth, my dear."

Reluctantly Mouse Woman opened her mouth, but again shut her eyes with the pain of it all, allowing Ermine Woman to place the tooth in her tooth gap and, of course, it fit perfectly.

"So now my dear,..." Grandmother said looking down at the small girl narnauk lying under the rabbit skin robe and showing her the well nibbled stone pine-nut cake.

"Yes, Grandmother," Mouse Woman  admitted in a very weak voice and looking up at the wise old lady with big, unhappy eyes.

"Guess where I found the tooth?" Grandmother questioned.

"With...the...cake? Mouse Woman answered, as if it might indeed be a guess.

Yes, with the cake, my dear," Grandmother agreed as she turned and quietly made her way out of the house, leaving Mouse Woman and her mother to further sort thing out.

"Well!" her mother said sternly when Grandmother had gone. "You have been pilfering the stone pine-nut cake supply -- you!" Her 'you" was a most indignant mouse squeak because it was well known that GREED was the Great Sin. It was equally well accepted that a high-ranking girl must be an example to other people. And what girl among the Mouse People was as high ranking as the one who wore the great title of Mouse Woman?

"I might as well die," the guilty Mouse Woman said, for it would be dreadful if other children ever found out that I was greedy. What am I going to do?"

"Perhaps you should strangle yourself on a forked willow twig," her mother suggested sarcastically as she turned her head to hide a hint of a smile. It was something Mouse people sometimes said to their children since it was well known that distressed Real Mice occasionally strangled themselves on a forked willow twig. It was equally well known that Mouse People could never die.

"That"s what I'll do," Mouse Woman agreed, suddenly leaping up. Thankful for a way to escape, she rushed out of the house and stayed away for a very long time so that everyone would be sorry.  But at last she crept back into the house.

"I couldn't find a forked willow twig," she told her mother.

"Then perhaps we had better forget all about it, my dear," her mother suggested.

And, again according to rumor, Mouse Woman was very glad to forget all about it and to dedicate her life to trying to keep order between other narnauks and people, especially those who had been tricked into trouble.

MOUSE WOMAN STORY: PART 1

Mouse Woman and the Missing Tooth

(Subsequent to yesterday's introduction.)

There was a rumor about Mouse Woman. It was what old people whispered to one another when they were chuckling together about things they had done in their own childhood; when they were remembering the stories they had made up to get themselves out of trouble. And they didn't actually believe the rumor.

After all, who could think that Mouse Woman had ever been anything but the spirited, imperious little busybody they all called Grandmother? Who could ever think she had once been a girl-narnauk playing with other children? And who could ever think she had once made up a story to get herself out of trouble? Or had ever gotten into trouble in the first place?

"Of course, it's only a rumor," they reminded one another. And anyway, it had happened -- if indeed it had happened -- in the very, very Long Before when some of the real people had migrated southward along the coast to build their handsome totem pole villages. Long before Mouse Woman herself had moved southward into the Place-of-Supernatural-Beings to watch the world with her big, busy, mousy eyes.

According to the rumor, the small-girl-narnauk named Mouse Woman was living with her Mouse People relatives far to the north of the Place. And one day she was playing with other children. According again to the rumor, she was running and squeaking and catching a streaming kelp bulb when one of her playmates noticed something.

"Mouse Woman!" the friend squeaked. "You've lost a tooth."

"Yes," Mouse Woman agreed. And she clamped her mouth shut to end the conversation.

"But...it wasn't even loose yesterday," her friend insisted "It wasn't even wiggly or anything."

"Wasn't it?" Mouse Woman asked, as if she couldn't quite remember.

"So! What happened to your tooth?" the friend asked.

"Well..." Mouse Woman looked up at the sky while she tried to think of a good way a small girl could loose a tooth that hadn't even been loose or wiggly the day before. And, as she continued to look up, she suddenly thought of Envious-One, the mischievous little being who was always doing something spiteful to children. Or at least he was always being blamed for doing something that more proper little beings would never have done.

"Envious-One did it," Mouse Woman suddenly announced.

"Oh!" her friend squeaked. "What did he do?"

Quickly thinking what Envious-One could have done, Mouse Woman said: "He shot at me from the sky and knocked out my tooth with one of those little arrows."

The friend looked properly indignant about the dreadful deed.

"And it hurts terribly," Mouse Woman went on, beginning to enjoy her own story. "In fact," she continued, "I think I'm going to die." She put both hands over her mouth to prove that it hurt so terribly that she might even die the way Real People died.

"You mustn't died outside," the concerned friend said. So, putting an arm around the agonizing Mouse Woman girl, she led her into the house.

"My dear! What happened?" Mouse Woman's mother cried out.

"Envious-One did it," the friend was quick to answer. "He shot at her from the sky and knocked out her tooth with one of those little arrows."

"Lie down, my dear!" the mother said. And she covered Mouse Woman with a rabbit skin robe. "We'll send for Grandmother."

"Oh, no!" Mouse Woman was quick to urge. "I mean...please don't trouble Grandmother!"

But her mother sent for Grandmother who was a wise old woman with very sharp eyes.

"My goodness! What happened?" Grandmother asked when she saw little Mouse Woman lying under the rabbit skin robe.

"Envious-One did it," Mouse Woman's mother answered. He shot at her from the sky and knocked out her tooth with one of those little arrows."

Reluctantly Mouse Woman showed her teeth to prove that he had indeed done the dreadful deed. But she quickly shut her mouth and her eyes too, with the pain of it all. For she knew Grandmother had very sharp eyes.

(to be continued)

* Be sure to watch for Part 2 of this story in Saturday's edition of Wrights Lane

AN INTRODUCTION:

Tale of Mouse Woman and the Mischief-Makers 

Readers who have followed me on Wrights Lane are well aware of my fascination with folklore, Canadian in particular. At the same time, I have arrived at the conclusion that my interests are not always favorably received on line. Not to be completely discouraged, however (a writer does what a writer does -- stubbornly), I take delight in passing on the story of the "Mouse Woman", a mischief maker if there ever was one. I plan to make it a three-part series, on consecutive days, so you can follow it for the rest of the week on Wrights Lane just as you would Days of Our Lives, The Young and the Restless or The Bold and Beautiful soap operas on TV. I think it will be fun, for me any way! Due credit is initially given to fellow writer Christie Harris and her first-love, Northwest Indian lore.

During the past two centuries, the rich native cultures of the Northwest Coast have almost vanished into more dominant immigrant cultures. But, fortunately, there have always been concerned people like the aforementioned Christine Harris, Franz Boas, James Deans, John Reed Swanton, Waldemar Jocelson and Marius Barbeau to record the stories and songs before they were completely forgotten. Now about The Mouse Woman...

Drawing by Douglas Tait

An introduction: It was in the days when people on the northwest coast of North America lived in totem pole villages that stood with their backs to the big snow-capped mountains and their fronts to the waters of the rivers and the seas. It was then, among a people who fished and hunted in summer and feasted in their great houses when winter came, that the stories of Mouse Woman were told.

The stories were for young people and created to restore a proper balance of life for the Canadian native people.

Mouse Woman was a narnauk, a super-natural being. As either a mouse or the tiniest of grandmothers, she tried to keep order between the other narnauks and the people.  Being very proper, she did not approve of mischief-makers on either side, and there were plenty of both in those days.

Whether it was a narnauk or a human who began troubles, Mouse Woman was always determined to make everything equal and right for all concerned. So she used tact and more than a little trickery of her own to thwart the likes of a greedy porcupine hunter and the Great Porcupine when the two conflicted...Or to help a young man cheated by a princess, or a wife stolen by the head of the Killer Whales -- great stories all, but too lengthy to do justice in this space.

To Mouse Woman, anyone who disturbed the proper order of the world was a mischief-maker. And being the busiest little busybody in the Place-of-Supernatural Beings, she always did something about the mischief-makers she encountered.

How did Mouse Woman know when mischief was likely, or know how to use tricks as a means to her ends? Well, apparently she was not always as prim and proper as she seemed. In fact, once as a child . . . But that's another story, one that will be revealed starting tomorrow.

Be sure to tune in for Part 1 in the story of Mouse Woman and The Missing Tooth!

HAVE SEEDS?...PLANT THEM OR THEY WON'T GROW

In my previous post on Wrights Lane I analogically hinted at planting seeds in the gardens of our world. In retrospect, it reminded me of the following story.

One spring day, a gardener showed his neighbor a packet of seeds he had just purchased. The seed envelope pictured a beautiful array of exotic flowers. “I'm hoping this will be my best flower garden ever," the man told his neighbor. A month later, the neighbor again stopped by and asked, "How's your flower patch doing?"

“I'm sorry to say it hasn't done very well," the gardener replied. "That's a shame. Was it bad soil? Pests? The hot weather?" the neighbor inquired. The man shook his head. "Then maybe your seed was the problem," the neighbor suggested further.

"Yeah, I suppose the seed was the problem," the gardener admitted..."You see, I never got around to planting it!"

Getting the seed into the ground can sometimes be the hardest part of growing things.

CONSIDER THE LILIES OF THE FIELD...AND THE DAISIES

Theologian G.K. Chesterton asks us to consider how God might have created daisies. Did He create them all at once with one swoop of His mighty hand? Or did He create them one-by-one, expressing childlike delight in each new flower?

"In the beginning," Chesterton suggests, "God may have created one daisy, and something within Him spontaneously whispered, 'Do it again!'" ...

And daisy Number Two (#2) came into being.

Once again God said, "Do it again!" And there was a third, and then a fourth, and then a fifth daisy. And so, He went on creating daisies. Until after a hundred billion trillion daisies, the great Almighty Creator who spun the galaxies into space and created all the animals, is still creating daisies, and with childlike glee, still saying, "Do it again!"

Similarly, Mother Teresa was once asked, how she was able to accomplish so much good work for the poor...“One by One,” she replied. 

Have you ever noticed how from seemingly insignificant beginnings, things like ideas, dreams, and actual real life movements can grow into fulfillment and a resultant state of awe and wonder? 

Indeed, one by one, small steps (often slow and steady) can lead to spectacular outcomes?  Kind of like planting and nurturing seeds in the garden of our world. And doing it again and again!

A good case in point:  Jesus' proclamation of the Word was less than spectacular. He spoke for a few hours at most before a few hundred people. In His entire ministry He may have been heard by several thousand people at most. His words and deeds were reported in a small Book. In fact, when you remove the duplication of His discourses, there are fewer than 32,000 words of Jesus quoted in the Gospels.

But what are those scant details when compared to the billions of people who have lived and will live on this earth as Christian followers of this humble carpenter who was committed to be crucified on a cross when he was just 33 years of age? It seems like a terribly insignificant beginning, doesn't it? Obviously, there is a huge disproportion between surface appearances and the true significance of an event or a person.

IS JESUS GOD? GOOD QUESTION FOR YOUNG AND OLD

                                                                          
My good friend Rev. Dr. Randy Benson offered a thoughtful and impressive answer to the difficult question often posed by young people "Is Jesus God?" in his latest worship service message to members of the four-church Presbyterian Co-Operative Ministry of Grey Bruce. I highly recommend it to readers of Wrights Lane who have children between the ages of 12 and 16 in the family mix. It is also a meaningful and poignant refresher for those of us who have been distanced from our churches for the past four or five months. You simply may never read anything quite like this again.

If you wish, you can also meet and listen to Rev. Randy's videoed message by clicking https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nyfTPPdx5cM&feature=youtu.be&fbclid=IwAR3F3ffGXi-b3iGPqzVsCgehEwg2XhQVr2Gocf-b0Gcxh-YEDGmpTCJIGc0

One of the mothers in the Co-op sent me a question this passed Monday. She had been having a discussion with her 11-12 year old son around the question of whether or not Jesus is God. She wanted help with how to explain this very complicated and central matter of faith to a young mind. I thought this might make for a better topic this morning than the Isaac story from Genesis. So, “Is Jesus God?” and how does one explain that to a soon to be teenage boy.

Rev. Randy Benson

One thing we have to note before we start is that young folk think in literal terms. They are actually quite scientific in the way they understand things. They prefer concrete, measurable, observable stuff – facts – something in their hands they can play with. But then, they also have very imaginative minds in which they create play worlds. I remember William making sounds of lasers and explosions while flying Lego space ships. Alice gets her plastic horses out and creates her own episodes of Heartland. Young minds also understand actions and feelings long before they can grasp ideas. They understand love feels like the urge to give and receive hugs rather some philosophical definition of it.

God, on the other hand, is such an abstract matter. Try explaining that God is love or God is Spirit. Young folk do much better when we use action words to talk about God like saying God made everything and rules and watches over everything. God is a much easier topic if we stick to what God does. The Bible is helpful for this conversation because it gives us stories of things that God has done.

Moving on, I think there are three crucially important things we can teach a child about God. One, God made everything. God is Creator and in love God made it all. Two, God loves them very, very much. And, God wants us to love him and to love each other even those who are mean to us because that’s what God does.

I’ve mentioned love there in all three so let me spend a moment on that. Love is an abstract concept. It may be difficult for a young person to understand when we say I love you for forever and God loves you more than that. I think there’s a popular children’s book out there to that effect. It’s quite touching for adults to say that but I just don’t think children get the concept of endless time. It’s best we stick to more concrete ways to describe God’s love; such as, “Because I love you I work at my job and here at home to keep you safe, warm, and fed; I help you learn to do stuff and to learn to make good decisions; I listen to you and want you to be the best person you can be; and I will always be here for you. God does all that for you and more.” It is easier to grasp what love does than to what love is.

Chances are we’ve tried to teach our children that part of loving God and loving others is praying to God for others and we have taught them that praying is like talking to a person so they begin to think of God as an individual person. Thinking of God as an individual person, they will ask questions like what does God look like and where does God live. Ideally, we should answer those questions with we don’t know what God looks like and though we can’t see God, God is with us always. Unfortunately, by osmosis kids learn pop-culture ideas such as God looks like a bearded old white man who sits on a throne in a big mansion way far away in a place called Heaven. I should also add that is the image of God I picked up as a child, but that may not be the case now because pop culture doesn’t have much of an image of God. God isn’t showing up in movies anymore. He lost his part to a team of superheroes using super tech.

Looking at the question of “Is Jesus God?” and please note the importance of this question. It is the central question, the foundational question of the Christian faith. Everything else hangs on the answer to this question. So, it’s a big question and imagine how confusing it can be to young minds that think very literally. With their imaginative minds they can, as I did when I was a child, create a nice “play world” of a bearded old man sitting on a throne in a mansion in Heaven running the world surrounded by angels and loved one’s who have gone on before us. But when we say God came to earth and became a human person, Jesus, it messes with that “play world” and they start looking for concrete answers to questions like: what happened to the bearded old man when he was here as Jesus? When God was here who was running everything from heaven? Was baby Jesus able to keep the planets in their orbits? If Jesus was God, how come he called God “Father” and prayed to him? It gets confusing if you think of God as an individual person, and then try to have that one person in two places at the same time.

Just think about it: the question “Is Jesus God?” truly shatters the “play world” that a child has constructed in faith in their imaginations about how God fits into reality. It does it for adults too. To say that Jesus is God shatters all the idols we construct of who, what, where, and how God is. Moreover, the questions that flow from saying Jesus is God poke all kinds of holes in the imaginative “play worlds” children in faith construct with respect to God. Then, the older the child, the more perceptive and analytical they become, if their faith “play world” of the bearded old man, yada yada, yada has been reinforced by the adult world, their teenage and soon to be teenage analytical minds begin to deconstruct that play world, they will likely throw the baby out with the bathwater because it sounds ridiculous, like a child’s “play world”. This is what the philosophical schools of Modernity have done with the bearded old man image of God that the Church created in the Dark Ages.

Therefore, we adults need to be real mindful of the imaginative “play worlds” our young folk have formed in faith. We have to be real careful that their image of God is Trinity rather than God being an individual person…and I probably just stepped off onto another planet for you. We have all been so schooled in thinking of God as an individual person that the reality of God being Trinity is an abstract thought we readily dismiss. But stick with me.

It is much easier to say that Jesus is God if our imaginative play world in faith is that God is the fellowship (the loving communion) of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit who is with us always. There was an old bearded dude, a godly man, who lived a long time ago in the 300’s AD named St. Gregory of Nazianzus. He was one of the theologians behind the Nicene Creed. He said, “When I say God I mean Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” Thus, he defined God not as an individual person, but as a fellowship of persons. God is a fellowship of persons who love one another so completely that they are one. God is not an individual person that I relate to. God is a relationship with whom I am in a relationship.

The Apostle John in his letters wrote that God is Love and God is Spirit. Thinking about love; you can’t have love without someone to love. That’s narcissism. Love happens in the context of relationship. Therefore, if God is Love, then God is relationship – the loving communion of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I know that’s too abstract for a young mind to grab, for most adults too. But once you get used to it…it’s beautiful.

To say God is Spirit is to say we feel, we sense, we experience the love of God by means of the presence of the Holy Spirit interacting with us and working in us. The Holy Spirit is like light from a candle and heat from its flame. The Spirit helps us to participate in the loving relationship of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The love that the Father has for the Son and the Son for the Father is the Holy Spirit whom we experience personally and who brings us to participate as by adoption in the love of God the Father’s love for Jesus God the Son and Jesus the Son’s love for God the Father.

The heart of the Christian faith is not simply obeying the will of God, the old man who sits on the throne, so you can go to Heaven when you die and having faith in Jesus as your “Get Out of Hell Free” card. That is the faith “play world” that I grew up with. The heart of the Christian faith is participating in the love between God the Father and God the Son by relationship with them through the presence of God the Holy Spirit with and in us.

So, pick your jaws of the floor and lets talk about explaining all this to a young mind. First, I will concede that there are images in the Bible of God seated on a throne in Heaven. It would be appropriate to say those images are of God the Father but are incomplete images because there’s no Son or Spirit pictured in them. But, in the imagery of the Book of Revelation that imagery finds its completeness. There, God the Father on the throne is a fantastic light display. Jesus, the Son is present among the churches and as God acting on the world stage. The Holy Spirit is also there present with the church opening our eyes and minds to understand the Revelation and to comfort us in persecution. Simply seeing God as God on the throne is an incomplete image. We need the Son and the Holy Spirit to fill it out.

Second, I would use the analogy of a family to talk about God to a young mind. A family is a relationship of persons bonded in love, a love that is a given. In a nuclear family there are parents, children, and the bond of love between them that even others can feel when relating with that family. No two families are alike just like no two churches are alike and all families feel different when you enter into a relationship with that family. God the Father is analogous to the parents. God the Son is analogous to the children or even friends whom the parents welcome into their lives. God the Holy Spirit is the bond of love and friendship that helps us and nonfamily members to feel like part of the family. When I was growing up I spent a lot of time with my best friend and his family. There was a wonderful attachment of love there for me. Mom Landis always referred to me as her adopted son.

To say that Jesus is God, is to say one of the members of the family of God really became one of us as part of the human family. He teaches us what the unconditional love of the family of God is like and unconditionally welcomes us to come and be a part of it. The Holy Spirit with us helps us to feel that love. Just as I felt adopted into my best friends family, so it is with us and the family of God and the extended family of God, the Church.

To say that Jesus is God is not to say he is all of God. God on the throne is not all of God. So also Jesus is not all of God. There’s the rest of the God family. This puts to rest those questions of did God leave heaven and stop running the universe when Jesus was here. Rev Dr. Victor Shepherd, uses a water bottle analogy.

...Take a water bottle (Rev. Shepherd suggested) and fill it up with water from Lake Ontario (or Lake Huron, or the Georgian Bay, or the Saugeen River, or the Spey River or Williamsford Lake). It becomes not just a water bottle filled with Lake Ontario water. It is a bottle of Lake Ontario water. Though it is a bottle of Lake Ontario water, it does not contain the whole of Lake Ontario. So also, Jesus is fully God the Son but not the whole of God. God the Father and God the Holy Spirit are still out there doing what they do.

So, winding down, those are just a couple of ways of explaining Jesus being God – the image of family and the water bottle thing. That Jesus is God is the central confession of the Christian faith. It doesn’t matter if you are Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant, or Presbyterian or Baptist. It is important for us to remember that children build imaginary worlds to play in and they will build one to play with God in. So, we must help them keep their image of God as Trinitarian as possible. Most of us grew up in a play world where God was that bearded old man and we feel uncomfortable thinking in Trinitarian terms, but God is Trinity.

We need to have our “play worlds” adjusted. God is Trinity is the confession of the Christian church when it comes to who God is. Jesus is God the Son become human and he has opened up to us his own relationship with God the Father in the Holy Spirit. Ponder that. Amen.

IF THE YOKE FITS, WEAR IT WELL!

There is a simple allegory about three men who set out on a journey. Each carried two sacks around his neck -- one in front and one in back -- kind of like a yoke.

The first man was asked what was in his bags. "In this one on my back," he said, "I carry all the kind deeds of my friends. In that way, they are out of sight and out of mind, and I don't have to do anything about them. They're soon forgotten. This sack in front carries all the unkind things people do to me. I pause in my journey every day to take them out and air them, lest I forget them. It slows me down, but nobody gets away with anything."

The second man was asked what was in his sacks. "In this one on my back, I keep all my bad deeds. I keep them behind me, out of my view. This sack in front carries my good deeds. I constantly keep them before me. I pause in my journey every day to take them out and air them, lest I forget them. It slows me down, but I take great pleasure in them."

The third man was asked what was in the sacks he carried on his shoulders. "I carry my friends' kind deeds in this front sack," he said. "It looks full, but it is not heavy. Far from slowing me down, it is like the sails of a ship. It helps me move ahead. The sack on my back has a hole in the bottom. That's where I put all the evil I hear from others. It just falls out and is lost, so I have no burden to impede me."

It is easy to see which man had it right. The bags the third man carried were indeed filled with the deeds of his brethern but the weight did not slow him down. Quite the contrary, it enabled him to move ahead because he was able to unburden his "yoke" of the evil in his bags. He may well have been heard to sing: "They ain't heavy...They're my brothers."

According to an old legend, in the years before beginning His public ministry, Jesus was renowned for His skill in making yokes. So, the story goes, a yoke was hung over the door of Jesus' carpentry shop as a symbol of His expertise -- a trademark.

A yoke, made of wood and shaped to fit comfortably, made a big difference to the endurance of the oxen and their ability to do their work. Choosing the right timber and shaping it would have taken a considerable amount of time and effort without which the yoke would not fit well, thusly making the work of a beast of burden much more difficult.

Faith, it seems to me, can be somewhat yokelike. It takes time and effort if it is to grow and be a fit in our lives. As Christians we have to build up daily habits which strengthen our minds and wills. When we think about growing and shaping our faith we need to be aware of the danger of faith being shaped to fit us, rather than faith shaping us. In both cases the faith we carry will fit snugly, but in the former it will be a smaller, thinner and subsequently weaker form of faith than the latter.

The Jesus of the Bible promised a light burden, but it is still a burden which needs to be borne. We can speculate about the nature of the burden we are asked to bear because Jesus did not spell it out for us. It might be faith, it might be witnessing, it might simply be the fact that we are known as a Christian and we care for the well-being of others. Whatever the burden, we have to make the choice to bear it.

How is your yoke working for you, my friend? Hopefully you have made it a good fit and that it is helping you move forward in life with the load that you choose to carry!

IS VANDALISM OF STATUES JUSTIFIED?

Protesters throwing the statue of the slave trader Edward Colston into a harbor.

Much of today's public discussion centres around the destruction of statues or monuments, particularly in the United States. At the same time, there are those in Canada who cannot make up their minds about the taking down of statues by rioting mobs south of the border. Is the act justified?

One thing for sure, whether they are toppled, destroyed, painted, or graffitied, these statues epitomize a new dimension of struggle: the connection between rights and memory. They highlight the contrast between the status of blacks and postcolonial subjects as stigmatized and brutalized minorities, and the symbolic place given in the public space to their oppressors — a space which also makes up the urban environment of everyday lives.

I read an article today pointing out that most political leaders, intellectuals, and journalists outraged by the current wave of “vandalism” never expressed a similar indignation for the repeated episodes of police violence, racism, injustice, and systemic inequality against which the current protest is directed. They have felt quite comfortable in such a situation.

ABOUT THE ICONOCLASTIC FURY: The Iconoclastic Fury, or Beeldenstorm in Dutch, was a short period of rioting and vandalism that took place in August 1566 and was one of the first periods of violence of The Dutch Revolt. Historical opinion differs between those who believe that the Iconoclasm was conducted by a small (around 300) group of hardcore extremists or whether it was a popular religious uprising led by the Calvinist hedge preachers.

Just like its ancestors did, the “iconoclastic fury” currently sweeping through cities on a global scale lays claim to new norms of tolerance and civil coexistence. Far from erasing the past, anti-racist iconoclasm carries a new historical consciousness that inevitably affects the urban landscape. The contested statues celebrate the past and its actors, a simple fact that legitimates their removal. Cities are living bodies that change according to the needs, values, and wishes of their inhabitants, and these transformations are always the outcome of political and cultural conflicts.

Toppling monuments that commemorate the less-than-perfect leaders of the past gives a historical dimension to the struggles against racism and oppression in the present. It means probably even more than that. It is another way to oppose the gentrification of cities that implies the metamorphosis of their historical districts into reified and fetishized sites.

According to a more sophistic and perverse argument, anti-racist iconoclasm expresses an unconscious desire to deny the past. As oppressive and unpleasant as the past was, the argument goes, it cannot be changed. This is certainly true. But working through the past — particularly a past made of racism, slavery, colonialism, and genocides — does not mean celebrating it, as most of the toppled statues do.

We know that architectural and artistic patrimony is burdened with the legacy of oppression. As a famous aphorism from Walter Benjamin put it, “There is no document of civilization which is not at the same time a document of barbarism.” Those who topple statues are not blind nihilists: they don’t wish to destroy the Colosseum or the pyramids. Rather, they would prefer not to forget that these remarkable monuments were built by slaves.

This wave of anti-racist iconoclasm is global and does not admit exceptions. Italians, for instance (including Italian-Americans) and Spaniards are proud of Christopher Columbus, but statues of the man who “discovered” the Americas do not have the same symbolic meaning for indigenous peoples. Their iconoclasm legitimately claims a public recognition and inscription of their own memory and perspective: a “discovery” that inaugurated four centuries of genocide.

Working through the past is not an abstract task or a purely intellectual exercise. Rather, it requires a collective effort and cannot be dissociated from political action. This is the meaning of the iconoclasm of recent days. Indeed, while it has erupted within a global anti-racist mobilization, the ground had already been prepared by years of counter-memorial commitment and historical investigation advanced by a multitude of associations and activists.

Like all collective action, iconoclasm deserves attention and constructive criticism. To contemptuously stigmatize it is merely to provide apologias for a history of oppression.