Monthly Archive for September, 2009

Musically Enhanced

I’m cur­rently lis­ten­ing to Steve Bell and Fresh I.E.‘s com­bined effort, “Every­thing we Need.” I love it — I’d always liked the Steve Bell song, and, in my opin­ion, you can only make a song bet­ter by adding some heart­felt and tal­ented rap to it. The combo of Steve Bell and Fresh I.E. is inter­est­ing, but it’s hap­pen­ing more and more in music. YouTube Preview Image (the song cur­rently has 1,180 views — I think about 60 or 70 of those are mine already.)

As I stretched out on our bed and prayed, the music pulsed from the next room. For some rea­son, the right kind of music can enhance a prayer or a wor­ship expe­ri­ence. Sure, we use music to wor­ship all the time. But this is a lit­tle bit dif­fer­ent. I was pray­ing, with music in the back­ground. The music added to the con­nec­tion between God and me.

When Joram, Jehoshaphat, and the king of Edom are in a tight spot (out of water), they turn to ask for God’s wis­dom. And they end up at the door of Elisha, the prophet. At first Elisha doesn’t want to have any­thing to do with them, but out of respect for Jehoshaphat he agrees to talk to God (side­note: I love how sim­ple it is for the prophets of old — just talk, and God talked back). Elisha is told by God what they need to do to sur­vive their fight against Moab.

But there’s a verse in there I never noticed before. Before pray­ing, Elisha says, “Bring me a harpist.” While the harpist was play­ing, the hand of the Lord came upon Elisha. The harp’s been used to calm some­one (when David was play­ing), and it’s been used to praise God, and now it’s being used to enhance the com­mu­ni­ca­tion between prophet and God.

I’d always known that music can enhance those moments, but I’d never seen it writ­ten that clearly in the Bible before. God loves music, and, like this story, it can help us com­mu­ni­cate with Him. Some­times, when words aren’t enough, melodies and rhythms speak for me. Maybe they did the same for Elisha. What­ever the case, I love music!

Tak­ing Heart,

Paul Loewen

Carless in Winnipeg

Dear Edi­tor,

I recently took a trip to my favorite Cana­dian Tire. I dropped the car off and did a few errands at the local mall. I was walk­ing across the park­ing lot when Cana­dian Tire called me. After con­firm­ing I was the right per­son, the mechanic goes, “Uh, where to start…”

My heart dropped to my toes. The list went on and on, and I could see the dol­lar signs rotat­ing in my mind’s eye. Telling my wife the sad truth, that our vehi­cle was des­tined to not drive much more, was not easy. Bounc­ing back from this sad truth, we resolved to bike wher­ever nec­es­sary until we could get another car.

Let me tell you, it has been amaz­ing. I’ve always enjoyed bik­ing. But hav­ing a car is so con­ve­nient and quick. When you don’t have one, you real­ize that a bike is much more fun and, well, not that slow. Really, it isn’t. If you’re going less than 5km, you’ll prob­a­bly get there only a few min­utes later (if you know which streets to take) — but maybe just a lit­tle bit sweatier.

Plus, you get to see things you never noticed before. The world looks dif­fer­ent at 25km/h instead of 50km/h. And you also feel a lot bet­ter about your­self. You learn that, in city dri­ving, cars do not respect cyclists. You make a men­tal note for when you have a car again to change your atti­tude towards your two-wheeled, earth-saving friends.

You get a chance to real­ize that if every­one biked the world would be a lot friend­lier (which dri­vers wave to each other in pass­ing on the road?), peo­ple would feel a lot bet­ter about them­selves; they’d be in bet­ter shape, they’d be able to eat more, they’d laugh a lot more, they’d have smiles instead of stress, sore legs instead of backs, fun sto­ries instead of stressed-out com­mutes, they’d save money on gas and they’d pre­vent the destruc­tion of our lovely green-and-blue planet.

Oh, edi­tor, why can’t every­one expe­ri­ence liv­ing on two wheels?

Tak­ing Heart,

Car­less in Winnipeg

Today I climbed a 15 foot wall…

group wall

Look­ing up at the wall in dis­be­lief, I exclaimed, “You mean I have to get over that???”

Our group of grad stu­dents from the Cen­ter for Jus­tice and Peace­build­ing at East­ern Men­non­ite Uni­ver­sity had arrived at our sec­ond chal­lenge on the ropes course at Brethren Woods.

The first was a rope web through which each per­son had to go… with­out touch­ing any of the ropes. After some re-starts due to our scat­tered com­mu­ni­ca­tion and lack of team­work, we began to orga­nize and work together.

Now, study­ing the 15-or-so foot high wall with­out han­dles or footholds, we used our new com­mu­ni­ca­tion skills from the pre­vi­ous ini­tia­tive to come up with a plan.

Our group con­sisted of twelve diverse peo­ple. Dif­fer­ent shapes, sizes, and strengths. Not every­one would be able to hoist them­selves over the wall on their own. And not every­one would be light enough for oth­ers to pull them up once on top.

Yet as our plan turned into action, I real­ized this diver­sity became a gift to our group. Stag­ger­ing the lighter and heav­ier, stronger and weaker mem­bers, we man­aged to all get up the wall… and with­out injury.

I reflected on the nature of other kinds diver­sity expe­ri­enced in com­mu­nity. We have dif­fer­ent ways of think­ing, doing, and being which so often lead to con­flict and some­times even vio­lence. Striv­ing for peace, I sense the temp­ta­tion to avoid, min­i­mize and tolerate.

For last­ing peace, how­ever, I can­not sim­ply ignore or put up with dif­fer­ences, wish­ing secretly that every­one were like me. I need these dif­fer­ences. My com­mu­nity mem­bers are absolutely essen­tial to my goals and efforts, just as I am to theirs. As God’s care­fully cre­ated human fam­ily, we strengthen each other even through what seems to be weakness.

As my feet lifted off the hands that had boosted me and I hung fright­ened, cling­ing to the wrists of the peo­ple at the top, a moment of panic seized me. My foot slipped against the slick wall and the real­iza­tion of my weak­ness flooded over me. I could not save myself. Then, I felt the arms of my group mem­bers lift­ing and pulling me up and over the edge. My foot caught, and I un-gracefully flopped over into safety and the laugh­ter and hugs of my friends… and to the cheers of more below.

This is us, the human com­mu­nity. Our flops and weak­ness, our mis­takes and fail­ures. Yet we hold each other and through the grace of God, we over­come the walls.

God of the Textbook

Not long ago, I met a few spe­cial indi­vid­u­als. They are a young cou­ple, and they have a dynamic faith in God. One of them is suf­fer­ing from can­cer. Less than a year into their mar­riage the diag­no­sis was con­firmed. The can­cer was so advanced that the doc­tors were begin­ning to already give up hope. Chemo and radi­a­tion came and went, with some progress made. But can­cer is still there.

As we were hav­ing a con­ver­sa­tion with this cou­ple, it turned an inter­est­ing cor­ner. The doc­tors would not have expected her to be alive today, nev­er­mind six months ago.

Doc­tors don’t know every­thing,” some­one said.
“They’re just work­ing from a text­book,” some­one else said.

That’s true, they are. They’re learn­ing from years and years of expe­ri­ence and from words in a text­book with glossy pages and shiny cov­ers. And if the respect we give them means any­thing, it shows that they do know a lot. That’s not in ques­tion here. What’s in ques­tion is the text­book.

Chris­tians believe in a Cre­ator God. Over and above evo­lu­tion, we believe that God cre­ated the world in six days. Sure, we argue about it, but we do believe that God created.

If we back up just a moment and ana­lyze our beliefs, I’m sure it’s appar­ent that God — a Cre­ator God — stands in direct oppo­si­tion to what appears in our text­books. As Chris­tians we under­stand that there are other the­o­ries and the school­board needs to teach them, but we teach our chil­dren the truth that we have come to know. The truth that goes unashamedly fur­ther than the text­book.

Why, then, are we so will­ing to sit back and let the Doc­tors dic­tate word after word from their text­book? Why do we lis­ten to their pro­nounce­ments of judg­ment as if the text­book were God itself? Not that Doc­tors have no place in a Chris­t­ian envi­ron­ment — but their word is not the final word. We already stand in oppo­si­tion to the grade 8 Sci­ence text­book, why not the Doctor’s text­book? God can hardly be con­tained by a book. God’s cre­ation can hardly be con­tained by a book. It doesn’t mat­ter if they have let­ters behind their name — God’s got plenty more behind His. The God of the Text­book fol­lows rigid sci­en­tific rules — the true God shat­ters rules and breaks down walls. We stand cre­ation over and above evo­lu­tion. Why have we for­got­ten that mir­a­cles stand over and above medicine?

Tak­ing Heart,

Paul

Focus turns into reality

Focus becomes real­ity” says my pro­fes­sor, giv­ing the exam­ple that an empha­sis on ‘anti-war’ does not lead to peace, but to a defen­sive and antag­o­nis­tic stance towards those involved in war.

I think about my focus. Usu­ally my speech gath­ers around what I do dur­ing the day, how busy I am, and how much I have yet to do. This becomes my reality.

This semes­ter, I’ve decided to shift my focus. I want to change my lan­guage from “busy” and “doing” to “space” and “being.” I want to cre­ate space for oth­ers and for rest, reflec­tion and med­i­ta­tion. I need to see all of the time God has given and choose wisely how to use this gift, not com­plain about how few hours there are in the day.

My focus becomes real­ity. As a peace­builder and fol­lower of Jesus, I focus on peace not only for the world, but also for within. I hope I can keep my focus.

The Pastor and the General

The big news in South Korea right now, although it’s get­ting sur­pris­ingly lit­tle press, is that there was a flash flood on Sun­day that killed six peo­ple in the north­ern part of the coun­try.  The peo­ple who were killed had been camp­ing and were caught com­pletely off-guard by the sud­den surge in water level in the Imjin River.  It was under­stand­able that they would be sur­prised because there hadn’t been a lot of rain lately in that region, and there was no rea­son to believe that there had been a lot of rain on the other side of the bor­der where the flood waters came from.

Things in South Korea always get more inter­est­ing when it involves their only land bor­der.  There are a num­ber of dams on the North Korea side, and it quickly became clear that either there was some dam­age and the water was released acci­den­tally, or that this was all part of some orches­trated plot.  If it is a mali­cious inci­dent, it comes at a time that is con­fus­ing most inter­na­tional observers.  The North Korean regime recently made head­lines inter­na­tion­ally for releas­ing two US jour­nal­ists who had ille­gally crossed the bor­der from China.  Per­haps less note­wor­thy inter­na­tion­ally but still impor­tant in South Korea was the release of a fac­tory worker who had been held there for a num­ber of months, as well as a group of fish­er­men who were taken into cus­tody after their boat crossed into North Korean waters.  As fall is approach­ing, so too are the newly arranged reunions between fam­i­lies in the South and their rel­a­tives in the North that have been sep­a­rated since the war ended over fifty years ago.

So with all that good­will dis­played so recently, why would this gov­ern­ment turn around then and respond with this kind of aggres­sive action?  None of the Eng­lish lan­guage news sources I’ve read have made this con­nec­tion, but I think I’ve fig­ured it out.  I think there is also another man who knows exactly why this has hap­pened, and that man is likely the busiest man in the coun­try for­mu­lat­ing a response, and that’s because it was directly squarely at him.

Lee Myung-Bak, the pres­i­dent of South Korea, has faced a fair bit of crit­i­cism dur­ing his short time in office, and every now and then he shuf­fles his cab­i­net, seem­ingly to dis­tract everyone’s atten­tion away from him­self.  In that light, it was hardly news when he announced that he was replac­ing six cab­i­net min­is­ters and the prime min­is­ter.   One of the newly appointed cab­i­net mem­bers is Kim Tae-young, the new Min­is­ter of Defence. He is known for his ‘hawk­ish rhetoric’ toward the North.  He has said things in the past along the lines that the South was ready to attack the North in respond to any kind of nuclear attack, and that the South sim­ply can­not allow the North to act aggres­sively as they have in the past.  Cer­tainly Kim Jong-Il has noticed his appoint­ment and his­tory has proven that he likes to demon­strate his opin­ion about things and I’m guess­ing the dear leader is wait­ing to see what kind of ‘hawk­ish rhetoric’ the new min­is­ter of defense will roll out.

When I saw the news­pa­per arti­cle about the cab­i­net shuf­fle, I thought the defence min­is­ter looked vaguely famil­iar for some rea­son, then I sud­denly remem­bered that I had actu­ally met him before.  It’s really an unlikely story, but it’s all true.  I was dri­ving with some friends to attend a meet­ing of peace minded Chris­tians within a cer­tain part of South Korea.  We were plan­ning to stop briefly to pick up the pas­tor of “Peace Church” and then con­tinue on our jour­ney.  Then, as we neared the church, which also dou­bles as a seniors home, we found out that a four-star gen­eral was com­ing for a short visit and we would be delayed a bit.  I guess when you are among the 12 most pow­er­ful mil­i­tary men in the coun­try, peo­ple make room for you in their sched­ules.  We arrived at the church before the gen­eral, where we greeted the seniors and sang a few songs with them.  Many of the res­i­dents were expe­ri­enc­ing some level of demen­tia, and most received almost no vis­i­tors.  The pas­tor told us that the church can­not talk about peace if it is not pre­pared to help peo­ple like this, who would oth­er­wise be abandoned.

I asked those around me why the gen­eral was vis­it­ing.  Was he inquir­ing about the polit­i­cal inten­tions of a church with peace in it’s name?  Was he vis­it­ing a res­i­dent who was related to him?  I received no clear answers until he arrived with his entourage.  He had a dri­ver, who stayed with the expen­sive car while some of us kicked a soc­cer ball around on the front yard.  He had a few men who car­ried clip­boards and brief­cases and stayed close behind him con­stantly.  The answer came to me how­ever when I saw the final young man in cam­ou­flage step out of the car with a fancy look­ing camera.

It was clear to me that a man only vis­its a nurs­ing home with a pho­tog­ra­pher in tow unless you want to use those pho­tos to fur­ther your career.  “He’s try­ing to get in to pol­i­tics,” I told my wife.  “We’ll hear his name again.”  These pre­dic­tions I make are gen­er­ally untrue, but this was has come true in short order.

Gen­eral Kim Tae-young has said that the South can­not allow the North to con­tinue mak­ing aggres­sive actions toward the South.  Now he is finally in a posi­tion to do some­thing about it, but every­one, includ­ing Kim Jong-Il, knows that the dynam­ics of the sit­u­a­tion dic­tate that he will allow the North to con­tinue their aggres­sive actions.  While that Gen­eral is now a super pow­er­ful man within the gov­ern­ment, that pas­tor con­tin­ues to spend his efforts main­tain­ing a small church in the moun­tains and car­ing for peo­ple who have long since for­got­ten the names of the fam­ily mem­bers who have long since for­got­ten them.  I think the lat­ter is accom­plish­ing more for the good of the country.

B.C.-itis

Alas, it seems I am cursed with a case of B.C.-itis. No, I don’t want to live there. And no, I’d pre­fer to not have insane amounts of rain. But B.C.-itis is a con­di­tion that cer­tainly needs attention.

I spend my time at home engag­ing in sev­eral hob­bies. I write, I run, I read. When I wrote a novel last year, I wrote it in less than 40 days. I went full-blast until I was finished.

When I trained for the marathon ear­lier this year, my train­ing was intense and ded­i­cated. For week after week I pounded out more kilo­me­tres than I some­times wanted to. With the goal in mind, I was able to main­tain my focus and train enough to feel con­fi­dent lead­ing up to Father’s Day. That’s the sec­ond time I’ve com­pleted the Man­i­toba Marathon, and I did my best to main­tain a high level of phys­i­cal exer­cise after­wards. Three years ago I ran the marathon then didn’t run for the rest of the sum­mer. It was not going to be that way this year. And, for a lit­tle while, it wasn’t. But with­out a spe­cific goal in mind my train­ing slowed down. And then in August, I didn’t run. With­out seri­ous exter­nal moti­va­tion, I find it dif­fi­cult to keep going.

There’s a part of me that sim­ply wants to say: That’s who I am. I go full-blast for a while, then go absolutely nowhere. I’m not con­sis­tent. One day I’m up on the top of the moun­tain. A month later I’m at the bot­tom of the val­ley (catch the mean­ing behind B.C.-itis?). As much as I set goals and sched­ules in my run­ning, it hasn’t helped. I started run­ning again two weeks ago. And, like a true B.C.-itis-er, I ran 4 times in 5 days.

There are a few advan­tages to B.C.-itis:

  1. You hit some great mountaintops
  2. You learn some­thing from each mountaintop
  3. When you’re in the val­ley, there’s always hope that you can make it back to the top

I’m learn­ing that the moun­tain­tops are great, and that with ded­i­ca­tion the moun­tain­top can be higher each time. But that doesn’t stop the val­leys from com­ing. And they often hit hard each time.

In many ways, I’m very sim­i­lar in my rela­tion­ship with God. For weeks at a time it grows and grows, and then it sim­ply sits. Stag­nates. Suf­fers. Shrinks. I could throw more S-words in there (Sucks, Smells, etc.), but you get the pic­ture. As long as the moun­tain­tops con­tinue to get higher, I’m slightly sat­is­fied. But I’d like my spir­i­tual life, like run­ning, to be more consistent.

What do you do to cure B.C.-itis? Let me know in the com­ments below.

Tak­ing Heart,

Paul

Get Real — Part I

YouTube Preview Image

Now I sus­pect these few sec­onds of video elicited at least a few adjec­tives, inter­rog­a­tives and maybe even some exple­tives.  I hope some of you asked the sim­ple ques­tion ‘Why?’.  I also imag­ine that many of you actu­ally, at least implic­itly, already know why.  Why is it that you can sub­mit some basic searches on YouTube and find scores of peo­ple doing things that strike us as almost unbear­ably stupid?

Heck for your view­ing plea­sure here is another pole walk­ing attempt.

YouTube Preview Image

You may also notice that this phe­nom­e­non is prac­ti­cally the exclu­sive domain of young men.  Coin­ci­dence … I think not.  Com­ing across this video reminded me of two things.  The first is a short story I am work­ing on that reflects on my expe­ri­ence of rais­ing beef cat­tle in south­ern Man­i­toba.  What stood out to me as this piece pro­gressed was the role of cas­trat­ing and de-horning the young bulls strip­ping them, per­haps, of some pri­mal layer of wild and reck­less mas­culin­ity.  I will leave that thought to develop another time.

Sec­ond, this video reminded me of Dostoevsky’s Notes From the Under­ground (bear with me).  The Under­ground Man says, “So this is it – this is it at last – a head-on clash with real life!”  And so we have what comes to close to how I would char­ac­ter­ize Dostoevsky’s work.  In each work it seems that D is will­ing to walk out from pole to pole know­ing the cross­ing or crash­ing will, hope­fully, bring an encounter with ‘real life’.

Dos­to­evsky will take any step and make any turn nec­es­sary so that there will be a pos­si­bil­ity for the real.  The Under­ground Man both despises and feels despised by his anony­mous audi­ence.  He attempts to recount his life with bru­tal hon­esty which means being hon­estly decep­tive at times.  He throws any notion of con­sis­tency out into the street for it is being tossed on your head into the street that one might actu­ally learn some­thing about one’s self.  The Under­ground Man con­cludes spite­fully that he was sorry for ever start­ing this account of his life rec­og­niz­ing that is was a pur­suit in van­ity and has moved away from lit­er­a­ture.  For, “[a] novel must have a hero, and here I seemed to have delib­er­ately gath­ered together all the char­ac­ter­is­tics of an anti-hero, and, above all, all this is cer­tain to pro­duce a most unpleas­ant impres­sion because we have all lost touch with life, we are all crip­ples, every one of us – more or less.”  We all began on pole and fallen so we may as well try and walk them again.  He goes on to tell us that because of our dis­abil­ity with are left with a dis­gust for any encounter, any taste with ‘real life.’ In response to any rejec­tions his audi­ence might raise for this view the writer con­tin­ues by say­ing that, “for my part, I have merely car­ried to extremes in my life what you have not dared to carry even half-way, and, in addi­tion, you have mis­taken your cow­ardice for com­mon sense and have found com­fort in that, deceiv­ing your­selves.”  You have seen the poles, thought of ven­tur­ing out onto them but said to your­self it would not be pru­dent and thought your­self the wiser.  And even after this the Under­ground Man is not finished.

My open­ing quo­ta­tion from this short story came about half-way through the nar­ra­tive and imme­di­ately guided me the rest of the way.  It has crys­tal­lized for me what is clear to all of us.  As humans we act out and artic­u­late the desire for some­thing ‘real’.  Though I don’t think we do this for all of our life.  Real­ness in child­hood is know­ing that the world is more than it is.  Real­ness is cre­ative and unsta­ble.  Real­ness becomes in young adult­hood more con­crete as we begin to pur­sue tan­gi­ble goals in love and voca­tion.  Because the real was always more and big­ger than our­selves it was never cap­tured or tamed and so in time most of us began to sim­ply give up on the real and sought the com­fort­able and sta­ble.  And so from below the ordered streets and time-conscious pedes­tri­ans the Under­ground Man emerges not with a chal­lenge but with an asser­tion and a con­dem­na­tion.  I have fol­lowed through and looked around the cor­ners of the dark cor­ri­dors of the realI have said yes to all of life.  The pitch of the Under­ground Man rises in its crescendo.  In deceiv­ing your­selves “as a mat­ter fact, I seem to be much more alive than you.  Come, look into it more closely!  Why, we do not even know where we are to find real life, or what it is, or what it is called.… We even find it hard to be men, men of real flesh and blood, our own flesh and blood.  We are ashamed of it.  We think it a dis­grace.”  The Under­ground Man includes him­self in this con­dem­na­tion.  I think gen­der in this lan­guage should remain spe­cific.  I hope to develop this more in Part II.

Back to the Roots

We planted today. In the Shenan­doah Val­ley, unlike Saskatchewan, you can plant seeds at the end of August and enjoy the fall crop of let­tuce, spinach, and other var­i­ous greens. As I put the tiny seeds into the compost-nurtured soil, I think of both the rad­i­cal state­ment of this rev­o­lu­tion­ary act and the sim­ple nature of it all.

I think of my grandmother’s gen­er­a­tion. My grandmother’s gar­den occu­pied a large por­tion of the yard and the pro­duce nur­tured there fed the fam­ily for sum­mer, win­ter, spring, and then some. Things like sow­ing seeds, car­ing for plants, har­vest­ing, cur­ing, can­ning, pick­ling, stor­ing all made up the rhythms of daily life. As nat­ural as can be.

Some­how, in two gen­er­a­tions, this rhythm of plant­ing, liv­ing and eat­ing has become un-synched. So much, that I feel won­der and amaze­ment at plant­ing, har­vest­ing and eat­ing with­out pay­ing money! Avoid­ing the sys­tem of mass pro­duced foods shipped from all over the world to my local super mar­ket seems more like a nov­elty than a basic way of life.

The local farmer’s mar­ket in Har­rison­burg seeks to restore the rhythm and to pro­mote com­mu­nity through rela­tion­ships, food con­nec­tions, and econ­omy. Although still spend­ing money, it pro­vides a face for the food con­sumed and con­nects the towns­peo­ple with our neigh­bours beyond peri­odic con­ver­sa­tions in the pro­duce aisles.

DSCN8496

Resist­ing the face­less­ness of ultra-cheap food, even in small ways like my pot­ted let­tuce, feels free­ing. Life does not belong to money and buy­ing. The essen­tials of mean­ing con­nect among all of cre­ation. A web of life, spirit, nur­tures each other in bal­ance when we do what we know and return to our roots.

As I empty the re-used con­tainer full of food scraps into the com­post pile, I mar­vel at the sim­plic­ity of fol­low­ing the way of life and plug­ging in to God’s abun­dant sustenance.

Proclamation of Innocence

When you com­mit a crime, you pay for it. That’s just the way that jus­tice works in Canada. And not only do you pay for it, but it goes on your record. I’m not sure of all the details, but a crim­i­nal record can pre­vent you from trav­el­ing out­side of the coun­try. That’s the kind of jus­tice we’re used to. We’re used to crimes or wrong­do­ings stick­ing with us for the rest of our lives (and even if they’re not crim­i­nal offences, peo­ple remember).

Which is why it’s so weird that King David, in 2 Samuel 22:21ff, can sing, “I have been blame­less before him and have kept myself from sin.” Er, take a moment’s pause here. Now, we know David’s shady his­tory. He’s not exactly the most clean-cut king of all time. Sure, he never went and wor­shipped other gods, but you’d be hard­pressed to find some­one who didn’t con­sider hav­ing an affair and com­mit­ting first-degree mur­der to be on the some­what sin­ful side.

But some­how he’s claim­ing that he’s been blame­less and hasn’t sinned. While it would be easy to hold those griev­ances against him, God clearly isn’t. There’s for­give­ness in this story, for­give­ness that hap­pens through Jesus but much, much before Jesus. Kinda gets your mind in a timewarp.

But the key to David’s self-proclamation of inno­cence is in the next verse: “The Lord has rewarded me accord­ing to my right­eous­ness, accord­ing to my clean­ness in his sight.” Those last three words are the crux of the entire bib­li­cal story. Sure, the gov­ern­ment of Canada may keep your crim­i­nal record, and your friend may remem­ber your mis­takes, but it’s all been wiped away in God’s sight. It’s what can bring an adul­terer and mur­derer to say, “I have been blame­less before him.” It’s back­wards and we’re not used to it, but, frankly, a lot of what God does is back­wards. That’s the nature of a God who hands out grace.

Tak­ing Heart,

Paul