SNAPS AND SABLE RIVER WEST




When my Dad, Clifford, left Sable River West in Nova Scotia to find a

new life in British Columbia logging in the legendary Douglas Fir forests, I was two

years old, my sister was one and my younger brother was three months. Mom followed

him a few months later on the train with her young flock..

Three years and several short stays later in a variety of logging camps and small

Kootenay communities, we were back in Nova Scotia.

*****************
We ‘made’ Liverpool in the darkness of a late September evening. Our mud- caked 1949 Ford pickup looked like a horseless-covered wagon. Dad had stretched an old, brown tarpaulin over a bulging load of boxes, trunks and furniture. We’d squished into the cab in assorted arrangements for the 5000-mile journey.
Liverpool,where my Mom's sister Dora live was about 30 miles short of Sable River, our final destination. They hugged and cried happy tears in the front yard of the yellow bungalow with its ivy-covered veranda. Two large maples shed mitten-sized orange and red leaves over the reunion. Uncle Pete, a short man with an accent, shepherded us into their home where their two sons and a daughter eyed us shyly as we did them.
Uncle Pete and Aunt Dora insisted we stay the night. But Dad was ‘antsy’. It was his mother and father whom we were going to live with on the ‘home place’ in Sable.
So they negotiated a compromise.
“Whatdaya think Bub?” Dad tousled my head. “You and I best go up to Sable and see if it’s on the same spot in the road.”
A little while later, as the truck whined up a steep grade, Dad looked at me with that little lopsided grin. It was the one I always saw when he felt good about what he was doing. “Port La Bear (that’s what I heard then but I learned later seeing it on a map that it's Port Le Hebert) hill . . . won’t be long now.”
As we plowed through the night on furrows of yellow from the headlights of our faithful truck, I suddenly felt enormously grown up. The cab was so roomy and I got to sit beside the window!
Dad had grown up here. He knew this country like the back of his hand and he’d say, “If you go back far enough probably everybody’s related one way or another.” He always told stories about ‘ back home’. Many names of places and people were already familiar to me even though I didn’t know who or where they were.
After a few more miles we rumbled over a wooden bridge. “Tom Tigney River.” Dad explained. “Park Harlow’s mill is just up there a ways.” He nodded his head to the right. “He gave me my first job in the bush skidding smoke wood with his team of oxen. Some folks around here don’t like him . . . think he’s a mean bugger. Guess he can be. Always treated me fair.”
Dad pointed to a whitish blob on the left as the headlights shine bounced off a set of gas pumps. “ This here’s Bernard Dexter’s garage.”
We bumped onto the decking of another bridge. “ Well, Sable River, son. Our place goes right down to the river. Good swimming hole there and a nice little beach with red sand. Wait’ll you see it.”
The highway swung left. Dad pointed off to the right. “If we went straight up there, that’s the Nine Mile Road…. Your Grandad has a woodlot up there. Been in the family since I was knee high to a grass hopper.” We bounced over a railway crossing. Dad pointed out Thelma Harlow’s general store and the school house right beside it.
“Thelma’s married to Park Harlow’s son, Tom.” Dad always liked to tie everybody together. “That’s the school where you’ll be going. Same one I went to. You might even get the same teacher. Far as I know, Grace Freeman is still teaching. You better mind her. She doesn’t take guff from anyone. I learned from personal experience. ” Dad’s voiced quivered with emotion.
“Home sweet home with the fire black out.” He muttered.
The truck slowed . We turned left into a narrow, bush- lined driveway. In a few moments I saw a big barn in the bobbing headlights. We swung right. The side of a white shiplap, two- story house with a high, sharp sloped roof hovered before us.
Dad looked at his watch against the dim yellow of the dashboard lights. “Nearly eleven. No lights on. I guess Mother and Dad gave up waiting. It’s way past their bedtime. They were expecting us tonight but they don’t have a telephone so I couldn’t get a message unless I ‘d got hold of the neighbors.”
Suddenly a glow the color of butter smeared a couple of small windows.
“A light’s on Dad.” I exclaimed.
“Huh.” Dad gave a knowing little grunt. “Your Grandad goes to bed early but sleeps with one eye and an ear open.”

A door opened. More yellow oozed out of the house. A hunched figure raised an arm as a visor to peer into the headlights. Dad shut them off, switched off the engine and we both climbed out, closing the doors with a good slam which they needed to close properly.
It sounded like blasts from a double-barrelled shotgun in the crisp fall air. I followed Dad as he grabbed the man’s hand in a firm grip and held it.
“Got a little late for us to stay up and wait.” The man explained. “Sounded like a strange vehicle when the tires hit the gravel in the driveway. Good to have you back son.”
He peered toward me. “Now, who’s this you got with you?”
“This is number one son.” Dad brought me forward with his hand on my shoulder. “Glenn, this is your Grandad.”
“Sure looking all grown up now Churchill. Just a tyke three years ago.” He caught my hand in a firm grip. “ How ‘bout we get inside Glenn? Cold enough for frost on the rhubarb tonight.”
Dad moved spryly as another silhouette appeared in the doorway. They hugged and
exchanged tender sounding words.
“Well, well, well.” The words flowed smooth as molasses on a hot soda biscuit. “Have you got a hug for your Grammie, Glenn?”
I walked forward and was gently drawn into the warm bosom and the husky yet soft arms.
“Let’s get inside. You must be freezing out here.”
“No, I’m fine.” I replied.
“Well, you’re sure tougher than me young man.” She said.
With that she had her arm around my shoulder and headed us into the house. Just to the right as we entered, was the glistening black top of a kitchen stove with a white enamel warmer running along the back of it. I recognized the acrid aroma of freshly lit kindling and newspaper.
“It’s not too late for a snack is it? You men have had a long trip.” Grammie looked at me with a twinkle then over to Dad whose moment of hesitation was taken as an okay. “ Where’s the rest of the family?” Grammie asked as she shuffled toward a cupboard beside the stove.
“They’re at Pete and Doras’’. I’ll go get them tomorrow.” Dad explained.
“I’ve got water on Churchill. I knew that was Dad’s middle name but I’d never heard anyone call him that. “You know we still don’t use coffee but I have tea or Postum.”
“Tea’ll be fine, Mother.” Dad replied.
She returned from the cupboard carrying a round, well-worn cookie tin with pictures of castles on its side and top. “I just made these this afternoon.” Deft fingers removed the lid.
“Ginger snaps!” My Dads eager voice sang out as his hand glided past my head toward the open tin.
“Ah. Ah.” Grammie warned him off and pulled the tin back. “Glenn gets first pick.” She moved
the tin to where I could reach it.
The fragrance of ginger and molasses wafted from the container. It was filled with brown rectangular cookies. Each had precise parallel lines in groups of four, running diagonally along them. I wrapped my hand around one.
“Oh, that’s not enough for a growing boy.” Grammie urged.
I lifted out two more. She smiled her approval as I nibbled at the corner of one. They were hard and crunchy. The taste instantly made my mouth water. Dad grabbed a handful and stuck about half of one in his mouth. The sharp, hard corners bulged his cheeks. Grandad slipped one from the can protesting quietly that he shouldn’t have one because it was too late for him and cookies might keep him awake.
The gingery flavored dough had been rolled thin so when baked they became hard and snapped exactly on grooves in the dough. Grammie’s snaps were pretty much identical. The decorative lines perfectly repeated on each cookie.
While the kettle heated, Grammie went out to the small porch we’d entered through and returned with a gallon glass jar half full of milk. She had to tip it back and forth several times to mix in the thick cream that had separated. “A glass of nice cold milk is just what you need Glenn, to wash down those snaps. Soak them in the milk if you want to soften them up a bit. That’s what we do around here anyways.”
“Sure feels good to be home.” My Dad said. His lopsided grin was wider than usual.

***************
The taste of ginger snaps and milk. Grammie’s caring smile and warm voice. The feel from the place that had been called ‘home’ for several generations of my family tree have remained gentle breezes through my mind. I’ve always felt them as my ship of life sailed far from those times and places. And now they push persistently against a spinnaker of silent hope that would guide the voyage that way again.

Sport talk radio has created a public forum for the sports fanatic. Now it is possible to see inside some crazy weird minds. As Vancouver joins in the annual ritual of NHL playoffs, fans vent their opinions. Man there are some serious dudes out there! Just rippin’ whoever is not meeting their expectations. Of course they are egged on in many ways by the sports talk hosts who enjoy fanning the flames of both sides of every controversy because that’s what they need to create some sizzle.

I know this because I’m an egg in this basket and have been most of my life.

This spring I got challenged by a buddy of mine who cheers for the Canucks. This means win or lose, play bad, play great. Me being a more ‘knowledgeable fan’ was not always so happy with the play and results of the home team. But as the inevitability of the Canucks making the play-offs became apparent my buddy showed up one day with this old Canuck playoff flag and a story about them going to the finals every 12 years. Kiss the flag and maybe we’ll let you on the band wagon, he prods.

The photo tells the story. At first I was so busy biting my tongue I’m lucky to still have one left. But as the rollercoaster ride unfolded I discovered a whole fan life. Never lose hope, never criticize(a few carefully worded constructive comments…maybe).

This has not been as easy as it sounds…letting a 3-1 lead slip away…top players not scoring, blown out in game 1 against the Ducks. But game 2 locked me in. Missing half their top 4 defense and 2 other top forwards, inserting rookies to fill the holes this Canuck team just plain gutted it out and in double overtime Cowan the Brabarian finds a sliver of daylight to get the puck behind Giguere.

It was probably the first game I had honestly just sat there and cheered the team (only one or two tongue bites)and it felt unbelievably great! I know now that I can do this the rest of the way no matter the outcome and still have a feel good feeling for the home team when its all over.

I think I’m a reborn Canadian hockey fan with a new perspective on living and breathing hockey. Kissing the flag has changed me forever....at least for this season.

Wind Me Up Baby!!
When Val took this picture I was sitting at the kitchen table with my laptop listening to rock music. The son of a friend had just released a new cd with his band. So I had an advance release that I loaded into my computer. This is not typical listening music for us 'older' rockers. So I had pulled on a headset over my hat so as not to disturb others while I checked it out.
I felt so 'cool' listening to the music under the hat but this picture shows me as looking like some weird older guy. Oh well, Wind Me Up Baby is still a very good song even if it doesn't make me look younger.

The Rock Tower

Val and I like to garage sale. This is a garage sale story.

This steel structure followed me home mostly because no one at the garage sale knew what it had been used for or what it was supposed to be. It just looked interesting and potentially useful and instantly created conversation. It seemed everyone wanted to suggest possible uses or what it was. These comments ranged from a replica of the Empire State building, to a planter, to a candle holder, to a golf ball storage rack. Once in the house it immediately found a home on the fire place mantle. Our daughter dropped by for a visit and tried turning into a candle home. Nothing fit. As I slouched in the living room chair across from it I glanced at the basket of rocks we have beside the fireplace. In 15 minutes I had chosen 9 of the 'leverites' that we didn't leave right where we found them over the years. I think the rock tower will be around for a long time and if those 9 rocks lose there attractiveness many more await their turn in the basket on the floor. Just another validation for looking forward to the next sunny Saturday morning we find ourselves out on the streets of town looking for those tell tale GS signs on the street corners.

Cliff and Edna

The first time they met she ran away.
But a plan was in place she could not change.
And it wasn’t the dreams she’d once dreamt
They exploded and died in a wartime event

The first time they met made his heart race
The young British beauty seemed out of place
Here in Canada in a Maritimes town
They shared war and its memories for loves common ground
At the Lord Nelson Hotel their marriage began
In his home village of Sable they settled down
A new life together but not fully planned
Sable Baptists were hard on a newcomers stand

It wasn’t long ‘tll she took three kids in hand
And followed their father to a British new land...

She stepped down from a train in Castlegar, B.C.
Mountains and bush as far as she could see
He’d gone ahead and a logger become
You do what it takes with a family to fund

It’s not what you do a as good Baptist son
And the cry if his parents for urgent return
Had him go back east dutifully drawn
Sick in the moment when he knew he was wrong

And they tried once more to make a go of it all
But in 7 more years headed west once more
This time Alberta was destined to be
Home with four kids in the family

Maybe they never had time to love
Maybe they didn’t seek help from the Lord above
But as children each of us knew
Our parents loved us and did all they could do
To give as their values to carry through life
To love our own children as they did us
And the commitment to this has proven so true
Passing it on is the least we could do

Father and Son in Scotland

SINCE OUR CONVERSATIONS IN OCTOBER ON THE TRAIN RIDE UP TO ST. ANDREWS AND SITTING IN THE PUB AT THE OLD COURSE , I HAVE OFTEN THOUGHT ABOUT OUR DIFFERING VIEWS ON THE WAR IN IRAQ AND THE AMERICAN PRESENCE THERE.
I AM WRITING TO TELL YOU THAT YOUR VIEWS AND KNOWLEDGE LEAD ME TO CHALLENGE MY OWN.
DIFFERENCES OF OPINIONS ARE COMMON EVERYDAY EVENTS. THE WAY YOU EXPRESSED YOURSELF MADE ME REALIZE THAT I WAS OVERLOOKING IMPORTANT INFORMATION OR MAYBE NEVER QUESTIONED MY AGING POINT OF VIEW.

READING “GODS POLITICS”, THE BOOK YOU GAVE ME FOR CHRISTMAS, I DISCOVERED THAT I HAD FALLEN IN TO A TRAP. THE TRAP IS: IF I BELIEVE IN GOD THEN GOD MUST BE ON THE SIDE OF WHAT I BELIEVE.

I'M PRETTY SURE THAT YOU SEE ALL OF THE RELIGIOUS VIOLENCE IN THE WORLD THROUGH OUT HISTORY AND IT RAISES SERIOUS QUESTIONS FOR YOU ABOUT THE NEED OR EVEN THE COMMON SENSE OF BELIEVING IN GOD IF THAT IS WHAT IT CAUSES PEOPLE TO DO.

MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF CHRISTIANS, JEWS AND MOSLEMS AROUND THE WORLD BELIEVE THERE IS ONE GOD…THE SAME GOD. HOWEVER THEY HAVE DIFFERING VIEWS OF WHAT GOD WANTS TO DO HERE ON EARTH.

NO HUMAN BEING IN THE PAST OR THE PRESENT KNOWS ALL THE ANSWERS. UNFORTUNATELY SOME OF US THINK WE DO KNOW THE ANSWERS AND EVERY ONE THAT THINKS THEY KNOW THE ANSWERS FALLS INTO THE TRAP I MENTIONED. ‘IF I BELIEVE IN GOD THEN GOD MUST BE ON THE SIDE OF WHAT I BELIEVE.

FAITH IS ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL HUMAN FORCES. SO, WHEN A PERSON WHO BELIEVES IN GOD BELIEVES THAT GOD IS ON THE SIDE OF WHAT THEY BELIEVE, SOMETIMES RADICALLY WRONG THINGS HAPPEN.

THAT IS WHY GEORGE BUSH IS DOING WHAT HE IS DOING.
THAT IS WHY SUICIDE BOMBERS ARE DOING WHAT THEY ARE DOING.
THAT IS WHY ISRAELI LEADERS ARE THE WAY THEY ARE.

AND I KNOW THAT I’M NOT ALONE IN THE WORLD AS ONE OF THOSE BELIEVERS WHO HAS TAKEN THE SIDE OF MY RELIGION AND SUPPORTED IT.

IT GETS A LOT MORE COMPLICATED WHEN VERY BAD PEOPLE EXPLOIT PEOPLE WITH STRONG BELIEFS TO FURTHER THEIR OWN QUESTS FOR POWER, NO MATTER WHAT THE HUMAN COST.

I DON’T WANT THIS TO BECOME LONG WINDED. WITH ALL MY HEART I HOPE TO EXPRESS THE VALUABLE, INTELLIGENT INSIGHTS THAT I HAVE RECEIVED THROUGH THE DOORS THAT WERE OPENED BY YOUR VIEWPOINT.

WHEN I UNDERSTOOD THE TRAP I HAD FALLEN INTO I INSTANTLY RECOGNIZED HOW HORRIBLY WRONG SOME OF GEORGE BUSHES ACTIONS HAVE BEEN ALONG WITH ALL THE REST OF THE ‘LEADERS’ WHO ARE CAUSING THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE TO DIE.

I’M NO EXPERT ON THE BIBLE BUT I DO KNOW THAT JESUS TALKS A LOT MORE ABOUT LOVING OTHER PEOPLE AND HELPING POOR AND DISADVANTAGED PEOPLE THAN HE DOES ABOUT IMPOSING VIOLENT SOLUTIONS TO THE WORLDS PROBLEMS.

THE BIBLE ALSO EMPHASIZES THAT THERE ARE NO PERFECT PEOPLE ON EARTH. THAT CERTAINLY MAKES SENSE TO ME BECAUSE THERE’S SO MUCH EVIDENCE TO BACK THAT UP.

I NOW BELIEVE A BETTER POINT OF VIEW IS MORE ALONG THE LINES OF YOUR WAY OF THINKING. JUST BEING A CHRISTIAN OR A JEW OR MOSLEM DOESN’T MAKE ME ‘RIGHT’ AND DOESN’T GIVE ME THE RIGHT TO IMPOSE MY ‘RIGHT’ ON THE REST OF THE WORLD.

THANKS FOR READING THIS KES.
I HOPE I HAVE BEEN ABLE TO WRITE IN A WAY THAT MAKES SOME SENSE.

Cloning Gods' Creations

I recently read an article about cloning in the Seattle Times newspaper.
The sub-headline read:
“Animal clones have proved far more complex than mere “doubles” – opening the new lines of genetic research and holding the promise of medical advances. But mysteries and controversy linger.”

The essence of this story is about an FDA announcement in December 2006 that meat from cloned cattle, pigs and goats s is safe to eat.

Samples of cloned beef and ordinary beef, required for the testing by the U.S.. Food and Drug Administration were provided by a company named Cyagra.

This is an American company in the cloning business that charges $17000 for a healthy cloned calf. Even they admit cloning for food isn’t financially viable at this time but there is no explanation of the need to have FDA approval.

It was 10 years ago Scottish scientists introduced “Dolly” the cloned goat to the world.

Dolly died at 6 suffering from arthritis and lung disease.

Cyagra Z, one of the American companies first clones, died in late January. She had gone from 1000 pounds down to 500 pounds and died of unknown causes.

In the 10 years since Dolly, cloning has revealed that clones are not identical to the DNA donor they are produced from and in the case of Cyagra Z, she was half the size of her DNA donor.

From here on the story gets more complicated as involved clone scientists explain they now know there is epigenetic code which is written by proteins and other chemical structures that surround or attach to DNA and determine how the code is read.
******

Doesn’t it seem that so often we hear in news stories that we can trust information if it is based on ‘good’ science.
It’s a deceiving premise when as Christians we know that only Gods science is complete and that man’s science is simply a step by step process of discovery.
We are dazzled and amazed at the incredible discoveries that scientists make.
The concept of intelligent design is impacting more scientists these days as being the only logical explanation for some of the intricate perfection they discover.

Yet we commonly hear of how science makes good science discoveries and then months or years down the road replace that science with some more good science.

The cloning science reported in this article is by its own admission incomplete.
Yet I don’t understand the desire to approve food for human consumption that so little is known about.

With a sociologist now the Liberal Leader of Canada, its time for voters to prepare themselves to be manipulated for their votes on a level they have never experienced before.
To have any possibility of understanding what this means a little sociological kindergarten should be compulsory for everyone of voting age.
Unless of course you have a sociologist in your midst.
If so it may be too late …you have to vote Liberal just to keep yourself out of therapy.

Having only received a few glancing blows from contact with a sociologist in training ..read, studying for a PHD, I was able to turn on my computer and google to an enlightening website as I fought off the urge to declare allegiance to the Big Red L party.

So just what do sociologists believe?
How do they think?
What kind of soil are they rooted in?

The one thing I discovered when having a discussion with my sociologist friend is that it was very difficult to have a very enlightening conversation. That sociologist intellect provided such a higher insight on any worthy subject that it was difficult to communicate intelligently on any level lower than their own. And it seemed to me that if I did make a good point, the response became a plethora of large words that the whole point of the conversation wound down to an uncomfortable silence of change of topic.

Cutting back to the political scene, I was amazed how quickly Mr. Dionne was able to create sociological momentum in the way of casting out the spectre of Prime Minister Stephen Harper as the “worst” Prime Minister ever in terms of his environmental record.

Suddenly it seemed nearly every news commentary and government related story had some reference to global warming, and the incredible blame that needed to be layed at the feet of the minority government eco terror leader who has changed the course of global climate change in a few short months in power.

This slickly crafted strategy has us average Canadians hardly know what is happening to us. It’s like we have suddenly been given spiritual insight. Of course! The secret plan of that Conservative scoundrel…We should have known there was a diabolical plan hidden in the dark heart of Mr. Harper.

So if Mr. Dionne can uncover this global mystery in his first few weeks isn’t it just common sense knowledge to put this man in control so he can save our great land.

My sociologist friend says a good education provides the opportunity to become a critical thinker. Grasping that thought I head to my google site.

Wouldn’t you know it, critical thinking is mentioned in the first two paragraphs of the web page.
Quickly the page moves to the topic of how sociologists go about socially modifying knowledge.
“The sociology of knowledge involves the social psychology of consciousness and belief. This cognitive branch alerts us to the facts that we live in a second-hand world, that most of what we "know" is generally received uncritically from others, and that models of decision-making must take into account the roles of pluralistic ignorance, emotion, and the bearing of knowledge type (e.g., scientific, religious, commonsensical…”

The simple fact in this statement is that if you have not been taught “critical thinking” then you do not have the capability to decifer what is fact.

The underlying sociological theme we are being drawn into is that there is no right and wrong in the world so we as individuals can choose whatever we think is right.

Once we’re in that mind set we’ll believe anything, even the fact or non-fact that we have the most credible, straightforward, straight talking Prime Minister in Canada in decades.
We’ll even start to believe that we have a Prime Minister who has managed to govern effectively in a minority parliament for a short period of time has somehow managed to create an environmental disaster in Canada.

I think that Mr. Dionne has so little in the way of real issues to deal with that he dug into his sociological mind set to figure out a way of creating a magical mystery tour that will lead the catastrophe of global warming to the Prime Minster’s doorstep.

Sitting in Vancouver in January 2007 with a foot of snow on the ground and -10 I’m thinking global climate adjustment. Global climate adjustment has been with us since the beginning of time and in my house we believe there’s a Big Guy in charge of all of it and His name is not Stephen Harper.

If we obey just one of Gods Laws: love our neighbour as we love ourselves, it would solve nearly all of the worlds strife. Think about this in the context of a news story about Muslims in a California town who requested a day off from school to honor a Muslim holiday and in reaction to the school board that voted to eliminate all religious holidays including Christmas and Easter.
From a Christian viewpoint it is a terrible infringement on something we thought was our right... is part of who we are. Additionally there is a likely hood for Christians to blame Muslims for the elimination of Christian holidays.
This whole question of religious difference is something that is really tearing apart people who essentially are worshiping the same God. Along the way Jesus Christ set a new covenant that Jews chose to disregard and over a twelve hundred years later Mohammed began a new offshoot when he believed that God had spoken to him about another way to be in relationship with Allah.
These differences really are at the centre of much of what is going on in the world today. Fighting in the name of the God they believe in. No one knows Gods plan in this. Great harm is being done to those people living outside of any of these belief systems. Many young people choose to not have any belief system because they don’t want to take part in fighting over who is right.
As a Christian I believe that Jesus Christ is our Lord and Savior and will return one day and Bible prophecy says that day will be when Jews believe he is their Saviour.
In terms of how we are going to get to that day these religions , these people who worship the same God have to find ways to respect and acknowledge their differences and do that while worshiping God in their way and loving one another as they would want themselves to be loved…obeying Gods Law. Ultimately that is how we will get to the day when we all are under one roof so to speak.
When that happens the whole world will see a new way of understanding that we are all children of one God one Creator. New desire for worshiping God will flourish.

Maybe this issue of Christian holidays can lead us, since our laws, in our democracy set standards that come from Biblical belief. Daily we see those standards being chipped away by secular reasoning and that is way out of the comfort zone.

If we’re going to be a leader in change, Christians needs to show mercy, forgiveness and grace and love for our neighbours, our kin who believe in the same God but at this time in history just don’t see it in the same way. In terms of Christian holidays democratic countries possibly need to learn to accept and honor other religious holidays.

Today in Muslim countries just the admission that you are a Christian could be life threatening. This does not add up with the ultimate truth of Gods will through Jesus Christ. The extremist Islamic belief that they are on a world mission to wipe out Christians and Jews creates extreme wariness. If peaceful existence and tolerance is truly a cornerstone for doing Gods will, whether Jewish, Islamic or Christian those forces need to step forward and make themselves known to their brothers and sisters.
Change is slow and difficult. Christians and Muslims do not know each other well and we hear much that is not true about the other. If we are to find common ground it must come from making Gods Love the major force….God centered love in the hearts of many will create acceptance of one Creator.

God’s plan for us and Christ’s promise to us is based upon the reality that we do have to change the way we look at things. We as believers in God our Creator must initiate and grow this change that is going to come about as history unfolds so that one day we can worship our One God.
As Christians we must avoid the self righteousness that we were right along and it just took the rest of you a while to come on board. We must grow toward that place where we all recognize the same path to salvation.

Once we become a united force in love, only then can we see the forces of Satan incredibly weakened. As long as this fighting among ourselves is so prevalent we give great power to the choice to not acknowledge God in any framework.
There needs to be all Gods children under one roof for the days of glory to come upon us.

The faith of the original disciples, especially Peter and Paul carried the story of Jesus Christ forward for 60 years after His resurrection. The writing down of the words of Jesus in to the Gospels occurred in the last half of the first Century.

This clearly tells us that the events witnessed by the disciples were so life changing that they were compelled to be the seed planters of Christianity until their deaths. It is a powerful experience if we can put our selves in that place where we can imagine for a moment witnessing events that are so important that we would spend the rest of our lives
telling as many people as possible of their importance in the face of incredible hardships including persecution and horrible deaths.

The teachings of the disciples were assembled into the Gospels we recognize today, essentially after their deaths. The story of Jesus Christ, the beginnings of Christian faith were preserved in the second half of the First Century. The Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were likely written between 60 AD and the early part of the 2nd Century.

In the Bible, the path to salvation runs through Jesus Christ. When we believe that the Bible is God breathed, that what is in the Bible is there because it is the truth, it decrees that we must set aside controversial challenges such as the Nostic Gospels, written many years after the original Gospels had come into existence.

With a Bible to create an organizational focal point, the church as we know it began to emerge and with it the establishment of a power base that attracted those seeking spiritual enlightenment.

When the Romans began severe persecution of the Christian faith, centered around life after death, they created an army of martyrs to further the spread of the Jesus message.
And when the plague in the 13th century wiped out 75 percent of the worlds population there were still strong forces trying to wipe out the Christians, essentially because they were people who were upsetting the apple cart so to speak.

What history tells us is that violence has been associated with God from the beginning.
The love of Jesus is what changes the equation. Even when we are spiritually reborn in that faith it is not a guarantee that we will live a perfect life on earth.
As saved souls we still continue sinning. Thank God for his love and patience as he says how we too often continue to live. Our salvation really is only in heaven. Only then do we reach the platitudes that Jesus asked us to reach out for.

This is really the only explanation that makes any sense of the history of violence that we see throughout history in the name of Christianity and in the attempts to wipe it out.
Religious ‘experts’ always get caught up in trying to find answers with human-based critical thinking. The search for historical affirmation of the Bible story always produces rich confirmation. But in trying to carry through a variety of scenarios about what the Christian faith is all about they invariably lose sight of the single most import fact. The story of Jesus Christ is not about a human. It is about God coming to earth in human form through a virgin mother and returning to earth in human form through resurrection after death. If this is ‘not’ true then the whole story of Jesus is nothing more that a fascinating tale.

The Nicean Creed, written in the 13 th Century during the time of Constantine, legalized Christianity and formalized who Jesus Christ is…the Son of God. And when the Roman Empire collapsed the Christian faith emanating for the same geographical focal point spread through out the world.

Today, we see escalating violence that at its core is more and more emerging as a global battle for religious superiority as seen through the eyes of Islamic faith and interpretations of the words of the Prophet Mohammed.

The battle for truth is one that will go on until an unchallengeable event occurs to establish what is truth. But until that happens the most important search for every person needs to be a recognition that we need to know what is true.

It is said by many in these life and times that each of us is entitled to believe what we think is right or wrong. This thinking is strongly rooted in the denial of a God or Creator and leans more toward the concept of evolution, that we humans have no substantial difference from animals other than being more intelligent. And then of course it sensibly follows that there is no guiding set of moral values.

That thinking is seen by many as the more destructive force.

Truthiness. Word of the year for 2006 says Associated Press. Although I SHOULD KNOW BETTER, I was surprised to hear that ''words'' were up for consideration in an Oscar like environment. Guess I missed the original announcement for all the words that were nominated.
I don’t want to discuss the fellow who apparently invented the word and what he says it means. When I heard the word for the first time, it started me thinking about how it reflects on how our world runs in the 21st Century. Less and less on one truth…more and more on truthiness. What is put forth as truth. The entitlement of everyone to have their own truth.

This topic easily could turn into a deep philosophical discussion by using a comprehension defieing tangle of words that everyone except the word smiths who relish the opportunity to express themselves with massive explanations that leave mere mortals with blank expressions thick with a glaze of HUH?

A PHD to be, person I know often pulls out the phrase that goes something like this, ‘the essence of higher education is being enlightened to think critically about everything’.
This concept is very idealistic in the sense that to me it creates the ground rules for everything to be questioned with potential total disregard for the facts. That does not mean that I don’t accept that critical thinking is not an important part of the education process. Thinking that is grounded in finding solutions to problems, determines the facts, sorts out the problem areas and then figures out how those problems can be fixed: Man is very good at this as evidenced by all the technology imbedded in everyday life.

Call me a conspiracy theorist but to me critical thinking seems to be aimed at creating intellectual and spiritual anarchy. In the spiritual vein, preferably people would not acknowledge any god but if they choose to, which ever one they picked is okay because everyone is entitled to believe what they want. Once people are convinced to do that then all the moral codes of conduct rooted in Biblical ‘truth’ can be thrown out.

What I see us left with is truthiness. It eliminates a single truth for anything. If it sounds like the truth to you no one has the right to disagree and they probably won’t. They’ll just be happy with what they think is right.

There must be truth. If there wasn’t, gravity wouldn’t be reliable, 2 plus 2 wouldn’t always be 4 and not everyone would die. So far all the health research in history has not kept one person from dieing. All the honest accountants always get the answer 4 and you will always get to the bottom of the hill on skis, even if you do have a garage sale on the way.

Find truth and accept it whether or not you like the answer. That is where our evolution as human being lies not in popularizing the idea that we’re merely smart animals and a little spirituality of some kind is just a genetic quirk.

Drowning Eagles

There is no road to the Tsmpsian Reserve. Boats or float planes like the Beavers and Otters are the only reasonable ways to get there. Somebody rich like B.C. Hydro men or loggers coming to look at our trees come by helicopter. Once, a fella from Ontario with a shiny suit and sharp pointed shoes came by helicopter looking to buy some of the gold jewellery I carve. I didn’t like the way his slippery,city voice told me how famous I was.
I am a traditional Indian. My son Samual has been raised to know the old ways. I’ve taught him the Tsmpsian language. It was easier to do with just the two of us which is the way it was most of the time in our house. Since he was a baby, I’ve told him all the stories passed to me by my parents and grandparents and other elders in the village. Samual most liked hearing stories that had any part about an eagle and sometimes I would add a part about an eagle just to make him smile. I’ve taught him many old songs and chants. Now Samual is nearly 16 and he gets confused about the old ways and all the new things he sees in the modern world. Like some of the songs I taught him; he made them into songs with English words and made up the tune on an old guitar his friend Rickey Robertson gave him. Samual wails like a wolf in the autumn suffering with a big bellyful of rotten Sockeye.
Our house is in the old section of the village. We got some new shingles on the roof last year to fix the leaks. It needs paint. The front window that looks out on Burl Bay has a big crack that runs a crooked trail from from corner to corner. Samuals’ complaining made me fix the roof and now he wants the window fixed. I tell him that at least it looks out on the ocean instead of what the people in those houses up in the new section get to see. “If all I had to see was mountains with the trees torn off,” I tell him, “The window might as well be boarded up.”
“Why don’t we burn this old shack down and go for one up in the new section?” Samual asked, one night after visiting his friends up there.
Even though he laughed, his eyes told me he was only half kidding. Others had done it. When Samual talked that way it made me think of his mother. She had taken off from us when he was two years old. I blamed my cousin, Moses Usher, for turning her away from the traditional ways. He always talked lots about the big city. Then he took her there. He came back to the village ten years later wearing a big cowboy hat with a fake eagle feather in it, boots made from “real” alligator skin according to him and he walked like he had a prawn trap between his legs. All he talked about was being a cowboy in Montana and all he said about Connie was that they split up five years ago and he didn’t know “where the fuck she went.”
Whenever I saw Moses walking around the village I got this worry that Samual would also get taken away from me someday. And I get this nightmare about two strangers coming to the door. They tell me to let Samual come with them. No reason. Just smiling faces. And I wake up in cold sweat feeling sticky like a salmon that has just died.

*****


Samual is a real hero in the village. He scored the winning points for our team when they won the All-native Tournament in Prince Rupert this spring. He played on the men’s team all winter even though he is only 15 years old. Basketball is very important in all the villages in this part of the land. It is like a test of manhood...a way to still do battle. I have accepted that Samual has more gifts from the Spirits for basketball than for carving. I see his warrior eyes and his eagle ways when he moves on the hardwood floor. When the team won the trophy Samual also got one for Best Newcomer. The team carried him around the village on their shoulders when they had a victory parade. I sure was proud too but I couldn’t explain why something about it didn’t feel right inside my heart.

It was three weeks after the big parade. One of those Vancouver Island Helicopters swooped over the mountain and put down on the big cement pad by the village Band Council Office. I watched through my cracked front window as a tall, skinny white guy with legs that flopped in all directions when he walked and a short white guy with a bald head and sun glasses talked to Moses Usher who always appeared when strangers came to the village. Moses waved his arms a lot and strutted around like he was doing a real bad Chicken Dance.

“Is this where Samual Abraham lives?” The tall one looked over my head when I answered the knock at the door. The short one looked up at me from behind. He pushed his glasses back up the bony bridge of his nose with thin white fingers. I could see he breathed hard and sweated from the five minute walk.

When I let them inside, they started piling on the praise about Samual.
“Your boy has a big future...a BIG future in basketball,” said the tall one.
“Think about the good education Samual is going to get if he goes out to school,” the short one squeaked.
His voice resembled his mousy body which paced back and forth in front of the front window. They said the same few things over and over again like maybe I didn’t understand.
“This is a big, big opportunity for Samual.” They both talked at the same time and nodded with each other in agreement.
Samual was all smiles and nodding his head with them. When they left, Samual was ready to go too. I told them we had to think about it. What I was really thinking about was my dream.

It is the biggest thing to ever come between us. At my work desk I go through the motions of carving. I cannot feel the gold or the tools in my hands. When Samual is home he lies slumped in a corner on the old couch that has its stuffing sticking out in the places where the cats have sharpened their claws. The argument is the same every day.
“It doesn’t matter how hard I try, my feelings stay the same. Leaving home will be no good for you.” My voice is low and the words have no emotion left in them.
“No good for you.” Samuals’ voice sounds the same as mine. “That’s what you mean isn’t it?”

“You know all the stories about what happens to young people from the village when they get out in the big city.” My hands stop their work; the one that carves hangs over the one holding the golden shield. Time is frozen like the half finished circling eagle on the shield. “Is that what you want to happen to you?”

“How many times do I have to say it?” Samual’s voice slaps me like his hand slaps the worn out arm of the couch. ”I am not like the others.”
“Basketball is just a game.” I say. Those guys that came here were saying all those things just to get you to play a game. When they don’t want you anymore you’ll be back here. Sounding just like Moses Clayton....walking around with a big bunch of stories to tell whoever would listen. What’s the good of doing that?”
The couch groans a sound of relief. Samuals scuffs his way to his bedroom. Soon the guitar strings moan into their box. Samual plays loud and hard. BOMP PA PA BOMP PA PA BOMP BOMP BOMP BOMP... BOMP PA PA BOMP PA PA BOMP BOMP BOMP BOMP. Hi tongue grabs words from deep in his throat and throughs them like shooting flames....

Ohhh..oh powerful and mighty eagle
Give me your spirit
Let your strong and fierce ways
Run through my heart

The vibrations from Samuals singing and playing shake loose little pieces of dust from the window frames. I watch them drift their aimless paths to the floor.

Ohhh...oh powerful and mighty eagle
I need these gifts from you
So the lands and the waters
Will serve me like they serve you
BOMP PA PA BOMP PA PA BOMP BOMP BOMP.

I turn to see Samual standing with his legs wide apart. His straight black hair snaps backwards then forwards in the opposite direction of his snapping head. His eyes are shut tight. His face makes strange shapes that belong on a mask. His arms are stretched to each end of the guitar which is slung low across his body. The right hand pounds against the strings. Louder and harder.

When he is wet on his hair and face and where his blue denim shirt goes under his arms,finally there is silence. He walks near to my working place. He looks straight into my face. “What if we both moved to the city? That would be better wouldn’t it? There’d be money from the government I’d get for going to school. We could get a nice place. You could still carve.”

“This village. This is the place where I must carve Samual. You should know that by now.”
“What about me?” Samuals’ voice is different than I have ever heard it before. “What about my life?” He smashes the guitar across the couch. “You don’t care shit about my life! All you care about is yourself!”
The words crash into my ears like ocean storm waves on a slab of seashore. When the front door slams behind him the force shakes loose the cracked halves of the front window. The spears of glass fall like they’re being dropped one by one, splattering across the linoleum. My chest feels like a ceremonial drum with the beats coming from the inside. Heaviness closes my eyes. I must remember, I must remember...

*****
It is the early part of summer; the warm days that come near the end of May and early in June. Out on the government dock the young boys fish. They are jigging with their rods and buzz bomb lures for the Tommy cod lazing in the shadows of the big black posts under the dock. The fun is to watch the boys reel up their wriggling catches. When the tide is low the air dances of the fish are about 30 feet long. I see Samual lay down his fishing rod and pick up one of the dead fish. He hollers loud so everyone will watch. The fish spins through the rays of sun and splats on the water.
The eagles are around because they have nesting places not far from the village. They
glide and flap and circle and play their eagle games of chase over the bay in front of the village. When they’re tired of that they fight for the best perches on the big spruce across from the dock. Now, from the big tree a six foot wing span rides a silky curtain to the ripples on bay. Yellow talons grab the fish cleanly. Surging wings grab big chunks of sky. I have seen the eagles all my life and their spirit fills me with joy.

“Mr. Abraham! Mr. Abraham!”
One of the boys is trying to get me watching another fish thrown, I think.
“Mr. Abraham! Come quick!”
I try to see who it is. I rub my eyes. Through the sharp edges of the front window I see Billy Dundas running as hard as he can. I make it to the front door the same time as he does.
“Mr. Abraham, come down to the docks. It’s Ricky Robertson. He was fishin’ and...”
air scrapes into his chest. “And he fell off the end of the dock!”
Billy stumbles behind me down the path towards the dock. “And Samual jumped in to try and save Ricky cuz he was screamin’ he can’t swim. And now we can’t see nobody down there!”
At the dock all the kids are trying to tell me at the same time what has happened. “Samual brought Rickey up two times. I seen him!” It is Billys younger brother Art. “What did you do?” I scream in his scared face. What did any of you do? Stand around and watch?” I run along the edge of the dock looking over. A running shoe drifts out from the black shadows. It wallows in the ripples. White. Lifeless. Long after night comes, village men poke the inky sheen with gaff hooks and spotlights from boats tied to the slimy fingers of the dock.

*****

There was a time we looked after our own dead. Now, two men in a helicopter come and take Samual and Rickey away. They have to go to the hospital for a doctor to make sure they are dead. Then they go to a funeral place to make sure they are ready to bury. The new tradition we have now is the way we return to the village with our dead. A funeral procession of boats carry the coffins and families up the coast from Prince Rupert, into the bay and up to the dock.
The day is sunny. The glistening, white hull of the seine boat, Blistered Harvest plows through soft rolls of green water and the breeze is just enough to feel cool on my face as I stand beside the polished oak. The other boats follow our wake. They make such a straight line it gives only glimpses of waving masts, one behind the other. Then when we turn past the green buoy off Blistered Point just outside the village it is like we are a rope being pulled through the water. Only when the boats enter the inside harbour do they go different directions to find their tie-up places at the docks.
Rickeys’ parents, Joe and Wanda Robertson, look pretty sick when I see them inside the church. When I walk past where they are sitting I get the smell of liquor real strong. I know they are on the “go” lots. That’s the word for partyin’. They weren’t in the village when Rickey drowned.
In the hot, stuffy church Pastor Beams leads in the singing of Amazing Grace. Pastor Beams is a thin, white guy with a lump that goes up and down in his throat when he sings. His voice doesn’t fit his size. When we sit down at his direction he moves over to the pulpit. “This is such a tragic loss for all of us. Our young people should not be taken from us in the dawn of their day. And it is at these times we need Gods’ strength to find the difficult answers.”
There is a rattle of feet finding the floor. It is Joe Robertson standing up. His face is puffy and twisted by unnatural forces. His words come out thick and wet. “If the government didn’t build a dock with no God damned guard rails my boy wouldn’t have fell off it.” He lurches his distorted, liquor swollen face towards me. “And if there were some ropes or life rings down there, Samual wouldn’t be dead either!”
The force of his own words seems to push him backwards. Wanda has to hold him off of herself as falls back into his seat. They both wail and moan and hang on to each other.

After the funeral , I am alone at last with the night air that comes off the sea. The only sound is the soft roll of waves licking at the rocky shores of the bay. I look down from my place on the edge of the government dock. The water is shiny and black as a Ravens back.
“Samual.” I say. “Today I will tell you the story about the eagle that could swim.

Well , there was this eagle back in the times when eagles ruled our land. Rok. That was his name. Rok had a special gift. He never waited for the salmon to rise up to the top of the water. When Rok was hungry he dove into the sea....deep down to where the fish are. He would pick the fattest one, grab it with his mighty talons and with one big push of his wings would soar up through the water as if it was air. And when he came to surface he’d rise right up into the sky like he was fired from a white mans fire monster. Rok was a hero be cause he always caught extra for all the other families.
But Sa-la, his father, did not like this. He loved his son and was afraid he would lose him. Maybe to the sea...maybe to all the others that would depend on Rok for fresh fish. One day Sa-la could not keep his thoughts silent any longer. “Rok, you must stop swimming in the sea. It is dangerous and I don’t want to lose you. Just be like the other eagles.”
“It is my gift, father.” Replied Rok. “I must use it.”
Later that day, Rok went out to fish. He dove into the sea and grabbed a big, fat salmon. But when he tried to lift it, the gift was gone. Try as he might the fighting salmon which he could not release from his claws dragged him deeper into the blackening depths. His father’s words echoed in his mind and then with a blinding white flash he entered the spirit world.

“ Did you like that story, Samual. I hope it isn’t too sad for you.” Lincoln Abraham let his eyes rest on the golden eagle medallion in his hand. “We are all drowning eagles, Samual.”

Lincoln Abraham arched his arm and heaved the medallion onto the sea. As it touched the water he was blinded by a white explosion. An eagle erupted from the waters like a shooting star returning to the heavens. In an eye’s blink the light was gone. Lincoln Abraham stood for several minutes in stone silence
He did not to notice the vapours seeping around his clenched fist. In the darkness, he feltThat his hand again clutched the eagle medallion.

shuttle view

How many of us Christians fully understand Gods word ? My answer is; none.
How many Christians believe that it is crucially important to believe that the Bible is Gods breathed Word where lies the truth about the way God would have us live our lives?. The most knowledgeable person on earth is delusional if they believe they have figured out more than small portions of Gods plan. But a dramatic shuttle crash gave me a thought about how me might look at Gods plan.

Our destiny is laid out in precise detail in the Bible and explicit occurrences that are going to happen or have already happened are numerous. I am not qualified to detail all of them but
the disciples clearly asked Jesus about the end of the world and what the signs would be. In Matthew 24:4-8 He answers that many shall come saying I am Christ, and he says there will be wars and rumors of war. Famines, pestilences and earth quakes. But this is just the beginning…to use another description, the birth pangs and Jesus said in Matthew, don’t be frightened because these things must take place. But it is not the end and he offers hope to those who are faithful.

There are two other significant events which fulfill the prophecy of end times and Jesus’ return. They concern Jews.
First was Christs prediction that Jeruselem would be taken by the the Gentiles and at some point in time they would regain it. Well the first event occurred only 40 years after his death. The second event became fact in 1948 when the state of Israel came into being nearly 2,000 years after Jesus said.
Against all odds, the second part of the prophecy was now able to unfold.
For Jesus said, you will see me no more until you (meaning Jews) say, blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord (Matt:23:39)
It is an emerging reality that Jews for Jesus is a growing movement. There are Jewish Christian churches. There are increasing testimonials of Jewish acceptance of the Messiah. This quote appears in a book titled Future Hope. A Jewish Christian look at the end of the world.
“When I accepted Him it was strictly because God showed me, yes Jesus is the accepted Messiah and that was reason enough to believe in him. The realization that I had become a Christian has never made me doubt for a moment that I was still Jewish. My belief is the natural result of my search for God and fulfillment of my Jewishness. This was spoken by Dr. Vera Schlamm, a holocaust survivor.

This view tells us is that God already knows the final outcome. In the world we live in today, it might seem like we are closing in on that time but only God knows and in the interim he need to put our trust in Him.
When the shuttle Columbia crashed and seven lives were lost, Americaan President George Bush quoted scripture in his first words. At the time, having just read a book titled How Now Shall We Live, which calls on Christians to develop their worldviews as a vehicle to point to Christianity and the Bible as the source of truth and purpose of people, I was quite surprised by this bold statement from the leader of the world’s most powerful country. With potential warfare in the Middle East overshadowing even the stunning shuttle crash, as a Christian, I was lifted up by the American President taking such a high profile opportunity to state the ground on which he stands. History books will confirm it is the ground on which America was built but it is not fashionable to make that point in our age of person rights instead of human rights. In our age of denial of wrong doing, even if you are caught and convicted, judges may decide they know a better way to exercise justice where there is no real expectation for the wrong doer to admit his wrong and be punished accordingly.

I’m certain it was not lost on world leaders that heard President Bush’s message. In context, I am one Canadian, with one small opinion, an opinion that probably is not held by the majority in my country.

However getting back to the shuttle flight, I listened and watched on radio and T.V. to the aftermath of speculation about what happened, to cause the disintegration, on re-entry of the Columbia to the earths’ atmosphere. I heard one ‘expert’ describe how the flight may have been doomed 80 seconds after lift off when chunks of insulation ripped off the launch rockets fuel tank and hit the wing of the shuttle, possible tearing off some of the tiles that form the protective shield on reentry and possibly even doing worse damage. The gentleman further described that even if it had been determined that re-entry was not a possibility due to the damage, the orbit of the shuttle was considerably lower than the orbit of the space station. This meant that the crew on Columbia did not have the capability of docking at the space station and awaiting rescue. It has not been common knowledge as to whether any conversation along these lines took place between Columbia crew and Mission control. Regardless, the decision was made to return to earth, but as the fellow on a radio program that i listened to, described it, there really was no other choice.

Thinking about that option, there is no other choice, caused me to reflect on the Bible and how it describes events that will come to pass in the final days before the return of Jesus.
These are specific, historically significant events and since so many astounding prophecies of the Bible have come to pass there is no reason to logically conclude that what is described in Revelations will not come to pass as well.
Since these are pretty horrific developments in terms of human suffering, they are not dwelled upon in much of Christian teaching because it is intrinsically more important to accept Jesus Christ into your heart and lead others to do the same.

What I think most people that have a problem with God have the biggest problem with is fully accepting that God, Creator of heaven and earth and everything within it is in control of everything that happens.
If you have a secular point of view, it is paramount to believe that humans are totally in control of outcomes.But we see such huge examples everyday that humans aren’t in control of much, it seems more and more like a seriously flawed theory.

I believe that many Christians, Jews and Islamic believers also do not fully understand that Gods will is what will be done and the chapters of planet earths' history will unfold to prove Gods word - that which we have had in front of us for thousands of years in the Bible simply foretold of mankind’s battle against sin and the ultimate outcome. There are many differences and religious struggles because each group believes that it has cornered the truth.

We have no option but to go forward. Our destiny was cast shortly after we first walked the earth in the Garden of Eden. There is no short cut that mankind can create to escape the inevitable. And as that realization comes to us we have no cloice but to continue the journey, like the space shuttle crew, knowing that our time is coming to an end, and even as they did, with their last voice messages, showing calm and resolute belief that all would be well.
For all those with trust in the Lord will pass through the fiery end into peace and calm.
And it is important to realize that as time goes on we may just be messengers to spread the miracle of Jesus Christ, the plan that God created so that all who choose to follow have an escape hatch.

We do know that there were Christians on board Columbia and the first Jewish person in space. We do not know all their relationships to the Lord but as described in the Bible when the day came one brother was called and the other left behind. One person in the field was taken and one was left.

Standing back to look at the shuttle flight, I think it is a good example of a way to look at God’s destiny for mankind. Our flight was predestined at the moment of creation.
Our end is foretold in Gods word. Our hope is the last words of the Book of Revelations: The grace our Lord Jesus Christ is with you all. Amen.

Defending Freedom

Canadian soldiers die in Afghanistan and it triggers emotional, pragmatic, political and a swash of other responses across our country.
Our unfettered freedom to express ourselves is pretty much our right in this unique, unbridled expanse of incredible global geographythat we call Canada. We became a country through exploitation and proclamation. Any historic skirmishes to solidify our borders are fairly insignificant in the big scheme of countrification history. Don’t bother to look up countrification….I just made it up.

We baby boomers and our kids have witnessed armed conflict but mostly in our living rooms. These days it's through the astounding reality of ‘imbedded reporters’.…not to dismiss flairups like those with our native Indian populations or the ongoing spats over the years between our two founding nations or the mainly peacekeeping roles our armed forces have played on the international war scene in the past 50 years.

It is this insulation that makes it so difficult for most Canadians to comprehend our emerging new role that is costing lives. But here is my view.

You see, my parents were both veterans of World War II, one English and one Canadian.
Before I really knew anything else about wars or really bad people in the world, I was taught the meaning of Remembrance Day each November 11th. This was not heavy handed or fearfully presented knowledge. Quite frankly most of the ‘war stories’ I heard from my parents were adventurous and more often than not tainted with some kind of humor. But attached to their story was a message of respect that we the younger generation should have for the sacrifice, courage, bravery and commitment made on our behalf in the defense against those who sought to conquer, destroy and exploit.

Like most of us I know nothing of armed conflict in my country. So my only right to a viewpoint is the freedom I enjoy which, speaking only for myself with thanks to my parents, I wholeheartedly try not to take for granted. The waning number of veterans on Remembrance Day provide another necessary revival of my acknowledgement to every single person who gave themselves over to preserving my freedom.

So when Canadian soldiers die in Afghanistan, how do I feel? It's not an easy question to answer.
We are constantly asked in our media saturated environment of the 21st century to drink the kool-aid of individual rights. This of course is the right to purchase every silver bullet solution that guarantees us solutions to all our problems, from whiter teeth and slim waists to millions of dollars from one little paper ticket with a few numbers on it. There is less and less of a moralistic overview of society. It's all about what "I" deserve.

When a 23 year old soldier dies in Afghanistan all of those rights are stolen from him and a family has hole in it than cannot be filled. In a country where most of the people feel their freedom is granted through a paper document and no one has ever really challenged that concept it is a natural reaction that this is little more than a governmental waste of human life.

Well, I for one and I pray there’s more like me out there, want to remember these soldiers for their bravery in going to the front lines of our battle scarred planet to defend the freedom we take for granted….the same freedom our ancestors came half way around the world to find….the same freedom generations hold as a pipe dream in conflict torn countries.

There is a harsh realty here folks. Freedom is not a right. We must stand up for freedom because there is another reality. There are bad people who will take it away if we don’t. There is another reality. These battles will scar and kill innocent people either by criminal design or the heart wrenching circumstance of wrong place at the wrong time. These events also initiate the psychological dilemma of “why did I survive instead of him….or her or that innocent bystander?”

Through those teachings of my parents, and the common knowledge I gather simply through having an interest in such things, I express the opinion that our soldiers are knowingly defending freedom under extreme risk. As far as dieing is concerned, I don’t think any normal, healthy adult in their 20’s thinks they are going to die. I know far more people who have died driving drunk, died taking extreme yet pretty much unnecessary physical risks or have died just being in the wrong place at the wrong time when senseless events occurred within our own society.

For Canada to ignore the intent of terrorists in our world is akin to other historical miscalculations like Chamberlains declaration of Hitlers lack of evil intent or the self-incrimination expressed by Solzhaneetsyn in describing how Communism got its stranglehold on Russia. Solzhaneetsyns’ Gulag Archepaelago, a soul searching account of what life in Russia became after 1917 when Tzarist ruled was ended by the rebellion and take over by the workers. He revealed a history of decades of human suffering that surpassed any before it and yet was unknown to the rest of the world. And how did this man describe it?

“We didn’t love freedom enough. In 1917 we hurried to submit. We submitted with pleasure. We purely and simply deserved everything that happened afterward.”

So when Canadian soldiers die in Afghanistan, I remember what was said to me by a Canadian fighter pilot I recently had the good fortune to meet and talk to. He said when we’re keeping them busy over there they don’t have time to plan other stuff.

Before I heard that, I had a much more complicated opinion. Now, I know that as a Canadian swaddled within the borders of this great, safe, nation I grieve for those soldiers killed in Afghanistan. I pray for their souls and those whose grief grips the very core of their own being. I l stand proud for these brave defenders of our freedom. I remember that their lives are not wasted because what is not worth fighting for is of questionable value. A far greater waste is a national ignorance of their sacrifice.

It is a great aspiration, the wish for peace for all mankind. Unfortunately goodness and peace is not something inherent within everyone. Terrible evil lurks in some. It takes conflict to win the battle.

As was explained to me by a well known Canadian writer in a writers workshop many years ago, if you don’t have conflict in your story, you don’t have a story. That my friends is at the core of who we are as human beings. We live the life we are meant to live when we struggle and strive for what is right with in us not what is pragmatic within us.

Our Canadian soldiers set the standard at its highest and sometimes pay the ultimate price. May God Bless them.

Gulag

When we hear of arrests in western society…
When we hear what is described as unfair treatment abusing the ‘rights’ of the arrested person…
It would be enlightening to know what being ‘arrested’ can mean.
The meaning of arrest cannot be more graphically explained than through the words of Alexandor Solzhaneetsyn in the opening chapter of Gulag Archepalego, his Pulitzer Prize winning book about life in Russia. Then, “arrest” terrorized to tens of thousands.(Page 3)

He described arrest as’ a blinding flash and a blow which shifts the present instantly into the past….The traditional image of arrest became trembling hands packing for the victim and no one knows what is permitted.’ His words scorch the pages as though synapsed from raw nerve endings to raw nerve endings, arking from memory to fingertips, to be revealed stark and real on the page so that the reader is conjoined to Solzhaneetsyns’ soul searching account of what life in Russia became after 1917 when Tzarist ruled was ended by the rebellion and take over by the workers.

He revealed a history of decades of human suffering that surpassed any before it and yet was unknown to the rest of the world And how did this man describe it?

“We didn’t love freedom enough. In 1917 we hurried to submit. We submitted with pleasure. We purely and simply deserved everything that happened afterward.”

“The principal revulsion you feel is against the humiliating, repulsive spiritual baseness that once was pride and implacability.”

Solzhaneetsyn asks the questions: What do you need to make you stronger? How can you stand your ground when you are weak and sensitive to pain, arrests, interrogations and prison conditions that we cannot imagine were the formidable weapons? Page 130

The reply of an old woman who held fast TO HER Christian and moral principals describes how victory comes. “There is nothing you can do to me even if you cut me to pieces. After all, you are afraid of your bosses and you are afraid of each other and you are even afraid of killing me. But I am not afraid of anything. I would be glad to be judged by God right this minute.”


Power is a poison well known for thousands of years. To the human being who has faith in some force that holds dominion over all of us and who is therefore conscious of his own limitations, power is not necessarily fatal. For those however who are unaware of any higher sphere it is a deadly poison. For them there is no antidote.

Solzhaneetsyn saw first hand evil working at its most revolting level. AS Christians we identify and knowledge where good and evil come from. God and Satan respectively. But it is difficult to describe how these forces work within us. Solzhaneetsyn says, if only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them.

There is irony in these sentences because it actually describe what those in power in Russia at that time said they were doing. A human solution to the problem which we now understand to be an evolution based line of thought which assumes that all life emerged from the slime and humans are the most intelligent level of slime. Thereforeit is inherent within us to devise the perfect solution to the problem.

A.S. goes on to write; But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart? One and the same human being is at various ages, under various circumstances, a totally different human being. At time he is close to being a devil, at times to sainthood.

He acknowledges God in his writing. But it seems that in this writing he chooses not to acknowledge Satan and how he flourishes in an environment and ideology that has no God present.

It is through this window though that there is stark insight that unmasks the terror and havoc that Satan creates.. The freedom we experience in the western world is built around Gods principals but they are being eroded from our laws and we need to make sure we love our freedom enough that we don’t throw it away to those who are trying to convince humanity that it’s the smartest and most intelligent force.

About the three Bibles on my nightstand

Let me tell you about the three Bibles on my nightstand.

Hands down, the Bible is the world’s most popular book. It is also maintained that many Bibles are never read. In our house, there are at least 6 and I’m pretty certain that if I searched a bit there are two or three more.

Probably the most and best used of these is that of my mother-in law, Rolette Proskiw. It was literally worn out from daily use over many years. I wish I could say that the three next to my bed are witness to her level of devotion to God’s Word…but I can’t. The reason these Bibles are there is because they do represent compelling evidence that the Lord watched over me during too many years when I most certainly never considered Him to be the master of my life. Not that I wasn’t presented with opportunities but my human weakness –my human nature- mistakenly thought it was me in control of all the important decisions in my life.

The oldest of these Bibles is a black, hard covered New Testament. The binding is broken and it must be carefully held together when picked up. Incredibly, no pages are missing. Inside the front cover is the name M.H.D.Allen, my grandmother. I remember her with the memory of a boy between the ages of five and 13. During those years, we lived in the same home in southeastern Nova Scotia in a tiny village named Sable River West. It is the only time we ever spent together except through photographs, letters and possibly the occasional long distance phone call. Sable River West is also inscribed on the inside cover of this New Testament, printed in London, England in 1921. I did the math to figure out that my grandmother would have been 34 or older when she received this Bible.
I don’t know a lot about her Christian life, but I do remember an extremely warm-hearted person and enough family history to know that she held firm Baptist beliefs. The signature and the writing of Sable River West in the New Testament I recognize as her distinctive elegant penmanship. Inside the next blank page is a handwritten Bible verse that is obviously not her writing. I assume the person who gave her this New Testament wrote it. There is no identifying signature. The verse from the Old Testament is Psalm 1-3.

And he shall be like the tree planted by the rivers of waters that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.

The giver of this Bible seems to have carefully chosen a verse that points to the enrichment and reward that lies within the wisdom of God. Whether or not this particular gift opened the door for my grandmothers’ life with Christ I can’t say but it seems there was clear Christian intent and knowledge from some one.

I’m sure my grandmother had other Bibles although this one was obviously well used and at some point had been scotch taped by what must have been some of the earliest scotch tape ever made. This New Testament was among my Dad’s personal possessions. My mother gave it to me along with other items. My Dad has been gone for a number of years. I really had no clear recollection of having it in my possession until this past year.

An authorized King James Version in extremely fine print is the second Bible on my nightstand. Given to me by my grandmother, the first page, in perfect lettering says presented to: Glenn Terrence Allen by Grammie Allen Date March 3, 1958. That was 19 days before my 10th birthday. Regrettably I have no recollection at all of receiving this gift. There are a few verses marked or highlighted in red pencil that could have been marked during Sunday school at the Baptist church in Sable River West or verses she wanted me to read. This Bible spent many, many years lying alone in drawers or boxes. All I can say with certainty is that some of the seeds of my Christian beliefs were planted with the help of this Bible and the person who gave it to me.

Inscribed inside the cover of the third Bible, also a King James Version but larger than the previous one and with bigger print are the words:
Presented to Glenn (Valerie) Allen and family
By Mother Rolette Proskiw
Date January 20, 1977.
Please read often to the family.
I have often described Rolette as the perfect mother-in-law. God presented her with many challenges including that of raising five children with out their father –taken from them by cancer when four of them were challenging teenagers. Rolette had a faith so large and strong that she was able to know that her heavenly Father would see her through the most difficult of days and give her many days and moments of joy. So the fact that her second youngest daughter married a hippy looking guy, going to college who would ultimately take her several hundred miles away did not prevent her from loving her son-in-law and never having a harsh word for him even though he probably didn’t fit even her wildest dream of a fitting husband for her daughter.

The events of this gift of a Bible, which was given to us 5 years after our marriage, are also not significant in my memory. But these days, sometimes during Bible study in our home I will bring out this Bible to read a ‘classic’ version of scripture we are studying to contrast the NIV study Bible we use.

It has been over 5 years now that Val and I have rediscovered and recommitted our lives to service in Christ and more significantly for my self I now clearly understand that the Lord must be put at the head of my personal life and I work to fulfill that commitment every day to the best of my abilities. This includes daily Bible verse reading and prayer.

And these Bibles on my nightstand, well they are a small token of appreciation to my Heavenly Father. His greatest and free gift to me is salvation through Jesus Christ,
But the ‘Bible gifts’ inconspicuously accompanying me along life’s path ensured that I would come to the time in my life when I would finally know His incredible and unconditional love for me and fully accept Jesus as the unchallenged leader of my life.

And he shall be like the tree planted by the rivers of waters that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.

The prophesy of these words written some 80 years ago enriches the knowledge of Gods plan for each of us and the incredible detail he prepares in advance.

God and his infinite love gently guided me to the circumstances where I could become a new improved Christian over the past few years. I have never been so filled with joy and I am overwhelmed with the certainty that it was no accident! He just waited for me to throw open the door to my heart and let the light flood in instead of seep in through a tiny little crack. I praise God and I love His Son with all my heart.

The Spirit within us...

6 years into the 21st Century, it seems that God is guiding history in a direction that is going to draw Christian, Islamic and Jewish believers closer than they’ve ever been.
Geographically we see increasing migration into each other’s dominant territories.
Philosophically we have historically high exposure and access to information and views that validate these three different belief paths that ultimately lead us back through the descendents of Abraham to Almighty God.
Fearfully and sometimes accusingly the world witnesses the horrors of angry conflict that accompany extreme rigidity in the belief of absolute right and wrong and the influence of those who exploit these differences for their own agendas.

As if to prove to those who claim that the human race has defied all common sense odds and reason, to evolve from single cells in slime to the top of the intelligence ladder, God seems out to demonstrate we are His Own creation in His Own image and within us, there are complexities to humanity far, far above our ability to comprehend.

Until about 5 centuries ago there really was no credence whatsoever given to the concept that there is no such thing as an unseen or “parallel” universe…a place wherein a power resides that rules over everything in the world that we live in. From the question: “What if there is no god?” grew the concept of evolution.
In its extreme implementation, the world witnessed the horrendous flaws in this concept when Lenin was able to achieve control of a disillusioned population in Russia and ultimately failed to snuff out the undeniable reality that God is encoded within us.

In the late 20th and early 21st centuries another more subtle approach to godless thinking concentrates on ‘factual proof’ of evolution, a university centered sociological bias that empowers and entitles each and every human being to have an opinion that is right and that wrong is not your fault or a sinful nature but more plausibly a bad decision that can usually be blamed on how your mother raised you, a corporate evil empire that controls privilege or chauvinistic intolerance. This is proving to be a powerful argument in the sense that it desensitizes the concept of right and wrong which is a cornerstone of religious belief.

However there is increasing statistical validity to an increasing gravitation toward the original human sense that there is a spiritual component within us that is not touchable or visible but undeniably truthful in its existence. Of course if that is true then it is also true that there is undeniable ‘untruth’.

There are also more controversial confirming statistics that indicate that the most growth in spiritual belief is that as described in the Christian Bible and specifically in the Triune God as told through the story of Jesus Christ.

Trinity is not an easy concept for the human mind to wrap itself around even for most Christians. Ultimately and firstly, it requires the acceptance of an Almighty God with whom all outcomes rest or are known in advance. Secondly we believe that Gods’ omnipotence, Jesus Christ, came to earth through a virgin birth, walked among humans as one of them and conscripted the disciples who would spearhead the deliverance of His message to future generations. Thirdly we believe that through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ and His ascension to Heaven, the Holy Spirit was made available to every child of God for the rest of time for the rest of their lives from the moment of salvation. This free gift accepted through faith in what is unseen guarantees our ticket to eternal life.

One of the best introductions to Jesus Christ is presented through the Alpha program which has spread exponentially around the world as a non denominational, exceptionally frank and truthful look at the incredible story of Jesus and his life guiding, life changing message.

The truth in the story of Jesus is what Christians hold up as Gods’ Living Word in comparison to the Laws of Moses and the writings of Mohammed.

The strength of belief is super human. There is no measuring the strength of belief established in a fully mature expression of faith whether it comes from a Christian, Jewish or Islamic belief system or for that matter other religions.

Changing beliefs also requires superhuman achievement or divine intervention. Ultimately it must be rooted in a pursuit and desire to go in the direction of what is the truth.
The most controversial of these truths requires examination of three central figures: Moses, Mohammed and Jesus. If Jesus is who He claims, God made known to us in perfectness, albeit in a human form by all earthly standards, then He is delivering the truth.
Moses and Mohammed make no such claims to divinity. Their credence is empowered through direct wisdom from God.
Believing that Jesus too was ‘just’ a man makes the leap of faith that He asks for a much more difficult or even impossible decision to make.
Obeying Laws and measuring heavenly worth in deeds seem better measuring sticks of allegiance to God or Allah.
God as our all powerful creator and heavenly Father, would not mistakenly open the gates to our heavenly home by earthly means and actions. The truth is we must believe in what is not seen and know the truth that he sent Jesus for our eternal salvation.

Why Read the Bible

In his New York Times bestseller, The Purpose Driven Life, Rick Warren explores the question, What On Earth Am I Here For?
In answering that question he says our time on earth should be used to “practice” the kinds of things we will do during our eternal life in heaven and he defines those activities worship, fellowship, discipleship, ministry and evangelism.
Rick Warren quotes nearly a 1000 Bible verses from 15 different Bible translations in his book. He makes the case that the Bible is the Manual God provides so that we make the best possible use of our short time on earth.
Rick Warren has endeavored to broaden for his readers the meaning of Bible verses by comparing translations and paraphrasing in an attempt to let readers view Gods truth in a broadened perspective.

My incredible realization that the Bible provides every guideline to live the life God intends for us has been a springboard for me to work harder to fully understand this Manual.
I think I’m like a lot of people who consider themselves Christians. Through faith, I truly have accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior but in no way can I consider myself devoted to studying Scripture to a level where I freely quote it and intimately know the structure of the Bible.
In my mind I’ve often made the excuse that I just am not the kind of person who memorizes easily. And I am deeply moved when Scripture is explained and brought alive by people gifted with such ability. But I personally struggle to read and receive deep understanding when its just me and my Bible. It just always sounds better coming from someone else.

I don’t know if there are others like me….. I struggle with all Manuals unless they are very simply constructed with lots of simple drawings to explain the instructions. Most pieces of new technology that become available these days..and there’s a steady stream of them, come with a thick manual. I know that I manage to get the bare basics out of them but more often than not do not get the full understanding that is available.

So if I understand and believe that the Bible is the most important manual I will ever lay my hands upon I had better figure out how to use it to its maximum capability.

In knowing that it truly is Gods’ handbook for our lives, it is amazing how new and deeper meaning keeps coming out of its pages even as civilization challenges and expands the boundaries of knowledge at record pace.

I read Hemmingways’ explanation of good writing once. He described it as the ability to explain something very complicated in a simple easy to understand way. I think that is what God has done as He uses easy to understand examples to explain what He is trying to get across to us. But sometimes his examples are not easy to understand at least from a laymans point of view.

Does the Bible Explain Evil and Suffering?

Many people share this predicament when considering Christian faith. If God is good and has power over all, why does he allow evil and suffering? Albert Einstein, the greatest scientist of the last Century saw the orderly and designed nature of the universe as revealing intelligence superior to all of human intelligence – the result of a mind not coincidence. But Einstein could not come to understand the contradiction of why a God this powerful would allow evil and suffering. A deeper look at Einstein’s premise that humans are essentially robots severely limited his ability to think his dilemma through to a Christian conclusion. Any conclusion is only as good as the premise on which it is based. A number of books are available which explain Einstein’s’ grappling with God. However this is a problem people throughout history have tried to answer with something other than a biblical solution.

In their book, How Now Shall We Live, Charles Colson and Nancy Pearcy detail five of the most common false solutions and the explanation that comes from Scripture. This is just one chapter in a powerful book. Briefly here are their points.

The most common false solution is that God doesn’t exist. This means that events are just natures’ random actions, not good or evil. So look at this. If we’re just part of nature (which is what we are if we are not created by God and put on this earth by Him for a purpose) why does evil and suffering deeply disturb us? Why do we cry out, “Why is this happening to me?” Why do atheists get angry at a God that doesn’t exist or out of instinct point blame for bad things at some unknown force and possibly look skyward when they do it?

There are others, and this is the second false solution, deny suffering exists. This is a particular view point of Christian Science and other religions. This line of thought literally convinces you that it’s all in your mind. Denying reality can have serious consequences. You probably don’t know that four of Richard Nixon’s closest advisors were Christian Scientists. Charles Colson mentions this fact in the book I referred to a few moments ago. Mr. Colson admits he made his own mistakes, as a close Nixon advisor and he went to jail for them, but his observation is insightful, that if we do not believe in evil we cannot cope with reality when it hits us in the face. Realistically, do you think you can make suffering go away by convincing yourself it doesn’t exist?

The third false solution some people come to is that God is at a place totally above anything we humans can comprehend. So what’s the point of getting angry with God if he’s not even connected to our reality? How could God understand our pain and our suffering if He is a universe unto Himself? If that were the case talking to God wouldn’t change anything.

Solution # four: God’s power is limited. This line of thinking rationalizes that God is still working on becoming all-powerful and that someday he will be able to prevent bad things from happening. Like He’s still trying to figure how to be all-powerful. That won’t make us feel any better today or maybe for generations. Be patient. I’m still evolving. It sounds a little bit like Tim the tool man Taylor.

The fifth false solution is that God created evil to achieve a greater good. Philosopher John Hick has described this position in a book titled Evil and the God of Love. He states that struggle for good is necessary for us to freely choose God. However this draws the conclusion that God created evil. What would be the sense or logic in worshipping a God that requires evil as part of human destiny? This is not to say that God doesn’t get good things from bad. But that is different than saying God put the bad things there as part of the plan.

So none of these explanations properly answer what every sensitive person asks. Why does God allow evil and suffering?

What the Bible teaches is that God is good and he created a universe that was very good.
Scripture also teaches that the universe is marred by evil and suffering. For both of these statements to be true then there must be a source of sin, outside of God. And that is what the Bible tells us. A part of human intelligence is freedom. This is the right to choose to obey or disobey the goodness and the perfection of God. When Adam and Eve made their first decisions to disobey, sin was created which is the spiritual realm of Satan. This establishes that sin entered the world at a particular point in history, not in the beginning.
The reason God can comfort us is because he did not create evil. Don’t you think that God hates what sin has done? However, fully creating humans meant that they must be able to make choices and therein lay the risk of choosing between good and evil.

Being that he is the God of goodness also meant that when he looked ahead to the evil and suffering we would suffer in consequence to sinfulness, he decided to create us anyway. The alternative would have been to end human history with Adam and Eve.

In addition He turned sin into the means of salvation. He took on all the punishment Satan dished out through the God-man Jesus Christ. Who but God could have figured out a Divine Justice whereby Jesus would die on the cross for all sins until the end of time?
This is how much God loves us.
Only the Bible explains the true meaning and true significance of evil and suffering
When we fully trust this truth, we can come to worship our Creator with every fibre in our being.
We can submit to a feeling of completeness that no other lesser explanation achieves when we accept Jesus Christ dieing on the cross and being resurrected as the single expression of God’s will that reconnects us to the good and perfect creation that we were in the beginning. It is nothing that we can earn. It is a gift given to us by our Heavenly Father. All we must do is accept it.

DON'T LEAVE ANYTHING TO CHANCE

Don’t leave anything to chance…
Isn’t that an expression we use when we’re trying to make sure something works out?
We try to foresee every possibility; pay close attention to the smallest detail.
Isn’t this really a process whereby we see ourselves achieving perfection which we believe represents the highest level of success…when what we are trying to do works out perfectly.

When I heard this phrase used recently, it resounded as a piece of potentially irrefutable evidence in the ongoing discourse that debates the origin of the human race.
Did we evolve – are we the result of random, sequential events against all reasonable mathematical odds…

Or:

Are we Gods’ creation - begun in the Garden of Eden as described in the Bible; part of an exactly executed plan by the Lord of the universe?

Sometimes rational people try combining these divergent lines of thinking. I have heard a ‘devout’ Christian express the belief that evolution occurred as the scientists say but at a certain period in history God entered the picture and in a magic kind of way changed these evolved creatures into His people and at that point the story in the Bible began.

Is this not a severe questioning of the Bible?

Non acceptance of God as Creator and Ruler of the universe was less challenged by Albert Einstein. As he developed his deep knowledge of the universe around him he became convinced that the perfection he always discovered was no accident. It had to be the work of someone with a master plan.

Einsteins’ problems with God laid within his inability to reconcile that kind of power with the realities of good and evil and pain and suffering he saw in the human condition and why if there was a God with such power He allowed pain in the world.

The fact we as humans desire perfection is a total validation that humanity is a God Creation. Perfection leaves nothing to chance.
Whereas if you truly believe we have evolved – by chance- why would your core belief not be that random, accidental chains of events over time are what produces perfection?

I think that when we believe: Thy will be done…………..Gods’ will be done;
That is the acknowledgement of the real truth at our center – from the day of our creation onwards.

When we attempt to apply a human standard of perfection we are falling far, far short of what perfection really means.
Doing what comes natural to us is to try for perfection.
Knowing and understanding that only Jesus Christ who walked as one of us achieved that goal frees us from the bondage of believing that perfection is attainable on earth by humans.
Believing that human endeavor can encompass and envision every eventuality goes against the very supposition that the human process began in the slime and followed along an evolutionary pathway leading to a time of human perfection.

Leaving nothing to chance mean the exact opposite. It means putting trust in our Creator who controls the final outcome and already knows what that outcome will be.
Leaving nothing to chance is the way we should try to live our lives especially because we are dealing with our eternity. We are more than a microscopic, evolutionary pixel on the high resolution screen of nature. We are Gods’ children and he wants us all, of our own free will to turn towards Him.

When you truly aspire to leave nothing to chance, you reach for perfection in every thing you do knowing Gods will means understanding that you will not achieve perfection until you move up to heaven. God put the quest for perfection in our hearts and he allows us to see glimpses of it in the universe that surrounds us..