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Having chosen to work with (i.e. learn from) St. Augustine for my M.A. thesis, it seems that all I'm reading is either about him or by him. I'm okay with that. I have discovered a man from whom I can learn to follow and seek God, whose example moves me with desire. So often do his ancient words inspire my soul to magnify God and take joy in his mysteries:
Late have I loved you,
O Beauty so ancient and so new,
late have I loved you!
You were within me, but I was outside,
and it was there that I searched for you.
In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created.
You were with me, but I was not with you.
Created things kept me from you;
yet if they had not been in you they would not have been at all.
You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness.
You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness.
You breathed your fragrance on me;
I drew in breath and now I pant for you.
I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more.
You touched me, and I burned for your peace.
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Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Suffering and Belief in a Good God - Part Two
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During my second year of biblical Hebrew courses, I 'discovered' a Psalm which quickly became one among my favourites: Psalm 82
God takes His stand in His own congregation;
He judges in the midst of the rulers.
How long will you judge unjustly
And show partiality to the wicked? Selah.
Vindicate the weak and fatherless;
Do justice to the afflicted and destitute.
Rescue the weak and needy;
Deliver them out of the hand of the wicked.
They do not know nor do they understand;
They walk about in darkness;
All the foundations of the earth are shaken.
I said, "You are gods,
And all of you are sons of the Most High.
"Nevertheless you will die like men
And fall like any one of the princes."
Arise, O God, judge the earth!
For it is You who possesses all the nations.
At first, at least for me, this was a terribly confusing psalm. Who is speaking to whom? Who is the subject? Is the psalmist accusing God of "judging unjustly" and of showing "partiality to the wicked"? Is it the poor, the weak, the needy, who "do not know nor... understand", who "walk about in darkness"? Is it them who are being told that they shall "die like men"? What is going on here?
Understanding the first verse can clear up a lot of the mess. The NASB (which is the translation used above) reads, "God takes His stand in His own congregation"; and the NIV reads, "God presides in the great assembly". Reading alongside the Hebrew (BHS) we find something along the lines of:
God (Elohim) takes his stand/presides in the assembly of God (El)
In among the gods (elohim) he gives judgment.
In the Ancient Near Eastern understanding of the divine realm there were many gods. Generally understood to be at the top of the pantheon was the god El; he was at the top of the ladder (though at some point Baal might have overthrown him and taken his consort/wife). Anyway, if we can place this first verse within the context of the ANE cosmology, it begins to make a lot more sense. If you can imagine a royal court with El sitting on the throne and all the many other ancient near eastern gods in attendance. In walks Yahweh (here and in other places in the OT He is referred to as Elohim), who gives judgment over the many gods there.
In v.2 Yahweh pronounces the accusation against them: they are charged with judging unjustly and giving preference to the wicked.
V.3-4 comprise the nature of just rule; this is how the gods ought to have ruled; this is Yahweh's measure of justice.
V.5 is Yahweh's assessment: the gods do not know or understand true justice; they don't know how to rule properly, to judge properly. The order of things, the cosmic order of divine beings, is being overturned.
In v.6-7 we hear Yahweh's judgement on the gods: a death sentence
I said, you are gods (elohim),
and all sons of the most high (Elyon - one of the names for El).
Nevertheless,like men you will die,
and like other rulers you will fall.
V. 8 is a joyous proclamation of Yahweh's ascent, his judgement on the gods, and his rule over all the nations.
In this psalm we find a clear declaration of the nature of the old religious system: the gods don't care about humans, they don't care about justice. We also find an equally clear declaration of Yahweh's conception of justice: defending the vulnerable, rescuing those in need. Also, we find some insight into the judgment of God. We see that it is intrinsically linked with justice (this is always an important starting point for understanding many Old Testament passages, especially those which deal with God's wrath).
The ancients suffered because the various gods who were formerly in charge were ruling unjustly and didn't care for those whom they ought to have cared for (the poor, the orphans, etc...). But now that Yahweh has stormed on the scene and declared what true justice is... why do people still suffer? Wouldn't Yahweh, who is a good God, solve the problem of suffering?
- - - - - - - - - -
During my second year of biblical Hebrew courses, I 'discovered' a Psalm which quickly became one among my favourites: Psalm 82
God takes His stand in His own congregation;
He judges in the midst of the rulers.
How long will you judge unjustly
And show partiality to the wicked? Selah.
Vindicate the weak and fatherless;
Do justice to the afflicted and destitute.
Rescue the weak and needy;
Deliver them out of the hand of the wicked.
They do not know nor do they understand;
They walk about in darkness;
All the foundations of the earth are shaken.
I said, "You are gods,
And all of you are sons of the Most High.
"Nevertheless you will die like men
And fall like any one of the princes."
Arise, O God, judge the earth!
For it is You who possesses all the nations.
At first, at least for me, this was a terribly confusing psalm. Who is speaking to whom? Who is the subject? Is the psalmist accusing God of "judging unjustly" and of showing "partiality to the wicked"? Is it the poor, the weak, the needy, who "do not know nor... understand", who "walk about in darkness"? Is it them who are being told that they shall "die like men"? What is going on here?
Understanding the first verse can clear up a lot of the mess. The NASB (which is the translation used above) reads, "God takes His stand in His own congregation"; and the NIV reads, "God presides in the great assembly". Reading alongside the Hebrew (BHS) we find something along the lines of:
God (Elohim) takes his stand/presides in the assembly of God (El)
In among the gods (elohim) he gives judgment.
In the Ancient Near Eastern understanding of the divine realm there were many gods. Generally understood to be at the top of the pantheon was the god El; he was at the top of the ladder (though at some point Baal might have overthrown him and taken his consort/wife). Anyway, if we can place this first verse within the context of the ANE cosmology, it begins to make a lot more sense. If you can imagine a royal court with El sitting on the throne and all the many other ancient near eastern gods in attendance. In walks Yahweh (here and in other places in the OT He is referred to as Elohim), who gives judgment over the many gods there.
In v.2 Yahweh pronounces the accusation against them: they are charged with judging unjustly and giving preference to the wicked.
V.3-4 comprise the nature of just rule; this is how the gods ought to have ruled; this is Yahweh's measure of justice.
V.5 is Yahweh's assessment: the gods do not know or understand true justice; they don't know how to rule properly, to judge properly. The order of things, the cosmic order of divine beings, is being overturned.
In v.6-7 we hear Yahweh's judgement on the gods: a death sentence
I said, you are gods (elohim),
and all sons of the most high (Elyon - one of the names for El).
Nevertheless,like men you will die,
and like other rulers you will fall.
V. 8 is a joyous proclamation of Yahweh's ascent, his judgement on the gods, and his rule over all the nations.
In this psalm we find a clear declaration of the nature of the old religious system: the gods don't care about humans, they don't care about justice. We also find an equally clear declaration of Yahweh's conception of justice: defending the vulnerable, rescuing those in need. Also, we find some insight into the judgment of God. We see that it is intrinsically linked with justice (this is always an important starting point for understanding many Old Testament passages, especially those which deal with God's wrath).
The ancients suffered because the various gods who were formerly in charge were ruling unjustly and didn't care for those whom they ought to have cared for (the poor, the orphans, etc...). But now that Yahweh has stormed on the scene and declared what true justice is... why do people still suffer? Wouldn't Yahweh, who is a good God, solve the problem of suffering?
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Friday, October 1, 2010
Suffering and Belief in a Good God - Part One
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Humanity has been struggling to understand the human condition, specifically the reality of human suffering, for millennia untold. It's really not that difficult to accept if you believe in gods who are indifferent, capricious, or even hostile towards humanity - not really good options, but they do lend themselves well to simple explanations for suffering. That is to say, if the powers that be up in the heavens don't care about you, it's easy to figure out why life can be so hard. But if you believe in a god who is good and who cares for humanity, how do you explain suffering? The situation suddenly becomes much more difficult to figure out.
Imagine that you are a poor Semitic agrarian living sometime in the early Iron age (1300-600BCE). Life is hard: you work and sweat and strain and break your body in a humble effort to have enough food and goods to feed your family. Even when you have enough there always seems to be someone more powerful than you who feels that he has the right to some of what you've worked so hard to have. If it isn't nomad raiders who take from the little you have, it's likely either your ruler or someone in his employ. You hope against hope that the crops won't fail, that you and your family will have enough to eat. You hope that what little you have won't be taken by force. You hope that disease will not come to your area, since disease means death. Speaking of death, you hope your wife will survive the child-birthing process and that your children (at least some of them) will survive into maturity so that you will have someone to care for you in your old age (if you make it that far). Life is hard; life is short. It's not completely devoid of moments of pleasure or happiness; but the reality of human suffering is ever present.
Where do you, a poor agrarian, put your hope? Who can you turn to for assistance? Well, how about the gods - certainly they can improve your lot in life. Yes, they can... but will they? Why not turn to Ba'al? He is a powerful god, perhaps one of the most powerful. After all he does have the power to bring rain for your crops; or perhaps you should try his wife, Asherah, who has the power over fertility - between the two of them, they could take care of most of your worries. But the problem is that they don't really care about you. Yes, you can offer sacrifices and hope that they are moved to action by them, but you never really know if they are listening.
With an indifferent, or capricious god, it is easy to come to grips with a hard life, with human suffering. Especially if you happen to be part of a culture (such as the Canaanite one) with a cosmogony that tells you that humans are created to serve the whims of the gods, that they are generally unwanted and barely tolerated by such beings. One some level, the gods of the Canaanite pantheon actually needed the service that humans rendered to them through sacrifices; but beyond that basic cultic requirement, there was nothing else binding them to humans. To the gods, perhaps with the exception of some kings and the like, who were generally considered in closer relationship to the gods, humans were a necessary evil.
Why do humans suffer? Because suffering moves down the ladder and humans are sitting on the bottom rung; and because the ones at the top of the ladder, the ones with the power to help, really don't care.
This is generally the way the human condition was viewed... that is until the new kid in town arrived - and then everything, and I mean everything, began to change. But I'll leave that part for the next post.
- - - - - - - - - -
Humanity has been struggling to understand the human condition, specifically the reality of human suffering, for millennia untold. It's really not that difficult to accept if you believe in gods who are indifferent, capricious, or even hostile towards humanity - not really good options, but they do lend themselves well to simple explanations for suffering. That is to say, if the powers that be up in the heavens don't care about you, it's easy to figure out why life can be so hard. But if you believe in a god who is good and who cares for humanity, how do you explain suffering? The situation suddenly becomes much more difficult to figure out.
Imagine that you are a poor Semitic agrarian living sometime in the early Iron age (1300-600BCE). Life is hard: you work and sweat and strain and break your body in a humble effort to have enough food and goods to feed your family. Even when you have enough there always seems to be someone more powerful than you who feels that he has the right to some of what you've worked so hard to have. If it isn't nomad raiders who take from the little you have, it's likely either your ruler or someone in his employ. You hope against hope that the crops won't fail, that you and your family will have enough to eat. You hope that what little you have won't be taken by force. You hope that disease will not come to your area, since disease means death. Speaking of death, you hope your wife will survive the child-birthing process and that your children (at least some of them) will survive into maturity so that you will have someone to care for you in your old age (if you make it that far). Life is hard; life is short. It's not completely devoid of moments of pleasure or happiness; but the reality of human suffering is ever present.
Where do you, a poor agrarian, put your hope? Who can you turn to for assistance? Well, how about the gods - certainly they can improve your lot in life. Yes, they can... but will they? Why not turn to Ba'al? He is a powerful god, perhaps one of the most powerful. After all he does have the power to bring rain for your crops; or perhaps you should try his wife, Asherah, who has the power over fertility - between the two of them, they could take care of most of your worries. But the problem is that they don't really care about you. Yes, you can offer sacrifices and hope that they are moved to action by them, but you never really know if they are listening.
With an indifferent, or capricious god, it is easy to come to grips with a hard life, with human suffering. Especially if you happen to be part of a culture (such as the Canaanite one) with a cosmogony that tells you that humans are created to serve the whims of the gods, that they are generally unwanted and barely tolerated by such beings. One some level, the gods of the Canaanite pantheon actually needed the service that humans rendered to them through sacrifices; but beyond that basic cultic requirement, there was nothing else binding them to humans. To the gods, perhaps with the exception of some kings and the like, who were generally considered in closer relationship to the gods, humans were a necessary evil.
Why do humans suffer? Because suffering moves down the ladder and humans are sitting on the bottom rung; and because the ones at the top of the ladder, the ones with the power to help, really don't care.
This is generally the way the human condition was viewed... that is until the new kid in town arrived - and then everything, and I mean everything, began to change. But I'll leave that part for the next post.
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Friday, September 17, 2010
Thoughts on Friendship: A time to walk away?
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It was easy back in high school. I saw my friends every day; there was no effort required. But as I've grown, things have changed.
Now, I have friends from many different areas of my life. I have friends whom I've known for varying lengths of time. I'm married and many of them are married as well. We work and live in increasingly different areas (and not just geographically speaking). We lead busy lives. Yes, things have changed.
Sometimes I wonder about some of these friendships. I send emails; I phone and leave messages on voice-mail. I wonder how much effort can one side put in while continuing to receive no (or little) in return?
I have different kinds of friendships. I have some friends whom I see a couple times per year. They are good friends. We get together; we catch-up on each other's lives since last we talked; we reminisce about times in the past; we have a good time. I have other friends whom I see on a regular basis; we have a very active and current friendship; we share our thoughts and our day-to-day experiences. I have yet other friends whom I seldom, if ever, see. The basis of these friendships, unlike the two above kinds, is squarely in the past. They are not any less my friends because of this. No, it is just the nature of our friendship.
Friendships are dynamic - they change. It can be a difficult thing to re-evaluate the state of a friendship and begin to consider whether or not it is/has transitioned from a current or active friendship into one which has for its basis the past. At what point does this change have to be recognized? I see them less and less with each passing year; I find myself less eager to make the effort to get together. No, not really less eager; I think it's that I find myself less convinced that they will reciprocate the effort. Should I have to chase friends down? Should I have to always initiate the contact and repeatedly push them to be my friend (in an active sense)? I wonder, is there a time to walk away?
It's not a matter of caring about them any less. I think it is more about making a decision to either be intentional about the friendship or to be passive and let the basis for the relationship reside in the past. But at what point do I walk away? That's the difficult question to answer.
- - - - - - - - - -
It was easy back in high school. I saw my friends every day; there was no effort required. But as I've grown, things have changed.
Now, I have friends from many different areas of my life. I have friends whom I've known for varying lengths of time. I'm married and many of them are married as well. We work and live in increasingly different areas (and not just geographically speaking). We lead busy lives. Yes, things have changed.
Sometimes I wonder about some of these friendships. I send emails; I phone and leave messages on voice-mail. I wonder how much effort can one side put in while continuing to receive no (or little) in return?
I have different kinds of friendships. I have some friends whom I see a couple times per year. They are good friends. We get together; we catch-up on each other's lives since last we talked; we reminisce about times in the past; we have a good time. I have other friends whom I see on a regular basis; we have a very active and current friendship; we share our thoughts and our day-to-day experiences. I have yet other friends whom I seldom, if ever, see. The basis of these friendships, unlike the two above kinds, is squarely in the past. They are not any less my friends because of this. No, it is just the nature of our friendship.
Friendships are dynamic - they change. It can be a difficult thing to re-evaluate the state of a friendship and begin to consider whether or not it is/has transitioned from a current or active friendship into one which has for its basis the past. At what point does this change have to be recognized? I see them less and less with each passing year; I find myself less eager to make the effort to get together. No, not really less eager; I think it's that I find myself less convinced that they will reciprocate the effort. Should I have to chase friends down? Should I have to always initiate the contact and repeatedly push them to be my friend (in an active sense)? I wonder, is there a time to walk away?
It's not a matter of caring about them any less. I think it is more about making a decision to either be intentional about the friendship or to be passive and let the basis for the relationship reside in the past. But at what point do I walk away? That's the difficult question to answer.
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Thursday, September 16, 2010
Poverty in the Land of Riches...
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I don't see it on a regular basis. In fact, I really don't see it at all. I live amongst the rich. I suppose I am rich. Poverty often seems like something far removed from my everyday interactions.
When I was working in downtown Vancouver with street youth, I spent time with the poor - poverty was easily seen and nearly impossible to ignore. Now, I live and work in the land of riches and don't see it. Yet how is it that I seem to hear complaints about money on such a regular basis? ...and from those who have money?
The statistics are really incomprehensible to people like me. One in seven Americans lives below the poverty line. With a population of over 310milion, that's more people living in poverty than the whole population of Canada. I've heard it said that America is really comprised of two countries: one a first-world and one a third-world. For the richest country in the world to have so many people living in such conditions is difficult to reconcile.
Lest we North of ther 49th parallel think we are much different, let us remember the impoverished state of many of our aboriginal communities. I hear stories about what some people in these communities are going through and I can't even imagine what it must be like. Let us recognize those in our own cities, perhaps even in our own neighbourhoods, who struggle each day to make ends meet.
I am rich. I have a fridge and cupboards full of food. I have a roof over my head. I wake up every morning in a warm bed in a heated home. My wife and I have steady jobs with enough income to pay all our bills, put some aside for savings, and still go out with friends once in a while. I am rich.
Lord, let me never forget to recognize the riches I have; let me never forget to give you thanks for them; let me never forget to share what has been given me with those in need.
- - - - - - - - - -
I don't see it on a regular basis. In fact, I really don't see it at all. I live amongst the rich. I suppose I am rich. Poverty often seems like something far removed from my everyday interactions.
When I was working in downtown Vancouver with street youth, I spent time with the poor - poverty was easily seen and nearly impossible to ignore. Now, I live and work in the land of riches and don't see it. Yet how is it that I seem to hear complaints about money on such a regular basis? ...and from those who have money?
The statistics are really incomprehensible to people like me. One in seven Americans lives below the poverty line. With a population of over 310milion, that's more people living in poverty than the whole population of Canada. I've heard it said that America is really comprised of two countries: one a first-world and one a third-world. For the richest country in the world to have so many people living in such conditions is difficult to reconcile.
Lest we North of ther 49th parallel think we are much different, let us remember the impoverished state of many of our aboriginal communities. I hear stories about what some people in these communities are going through and I can't even imagine what it must be like. Let us recognize those in our own cities, perhaps even in our own neighbourhoods, who struggle each day to make ends meet.
I am rich. I have a fridge and cupboards full of food. I have a roof over my head. I wake up every morning in a warm bed in a heated home. My wife and I have steady jobs with enough income to pay all our bills, put some aside for savings, and still go out with friends once in a while. I am rich.
Lord, let me never forget to recognize the riches I have; let me never forget to give you thanks for them; let me never forget to share what has been given me with those in need.
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Monday, September 13, 2010
Why Blog?
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I haven't been blogging much lately. I've been thinking about blogging, but not doing it. The question has been rolling around in my head, 'why do I blog?'. I don't know exactly. I think it is an important question to ask, to answer. I think whether I will continue to blog and the nature of my blog posts might depend on the answer that I come up with.
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I haven't been blogging much lately. I've been thinking about blogging, but not doing it. The question has been rolling around in my head, 'why do I blog?'. I don't know exactly. I think it is an important question to ask, to answer. I think whether I will continue to blog and the nature of my blog posts might depend on the answer that I come up with.
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Saturday, September 4, 2010
Memories of Labour Day Weekends Past: Who am I?
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September 5th, 2006
I was driving home from my girlfriend's place (who is now my dear wife) and almost home, meters to go...
We were going to go for a hike the next day so I thought that I would stop by the grocery store on the way home and pick-up some supplies with which to make a nice lunch for the hike. There I was driving home with the groceries piled on the seat next to me, the sun had long since set and it was quite dark and quite late, when I saw two figures walking across the road. I was just about home, in fact I was in front of my home when I stopped, but apparently had time for one little adventure before calling it a night. The two gentlemen, for I now saw that they were a pair of late teen boys, had crossed right in front of my car and I was forced to stop for fear of hitting them. Once I had stopped they came around to the passenger side of my car and I rolled the window down an inch thinking that they might need some help. The closest fellow was shirtless and looked somewhat disheveled. No sooner had I rolled the window down but a mere crack when the shirtless fellow somehow, at the speed of lightning, shoved his entire arm through the opening and opened the door from the inside. Having accomplished this feat, he then proceeded to flop himself down on the passenger seat - yes, right on top of my groceries (and my wallet as well) - and demand that I provide him with some drugs. I says, pardon? He says, drugs! I shake my head in disbelief. I asked the fellow if he needs some help, "can I call somebody for you?". He replies by demanding some coke (yes, cocaine). I make a little joke about my poor little run-down hatchback and my socio-economic status and ask if I look like I have any coke. Nick - as I later found out his name to be - didn't think I was all that funny and proceeded to show me his displeasure at my attempted humour by pummeling me about the face and head. After a short flurry of blows, he let off. What a scene: my blood was splattered all over the inside of my little car and all over myself (not to mention poor Nick got plenty on himself). Following this little physical interaction between us - this predominantly one-sided physical interaction- I decided that Nick required some education about how a gentleman ought to conduct himself in civil society. So, I proceeded to tell Nick as much: "this is no way to go through life", "you should get some help", "there are people you can call, services in place for this kind of thing", "let's talk about this", "we can work through this, there are better ways to deal with your problems", etc. Nick didn't want to talk, he didn't seem to want to work through his problems. I appealed to his comrade, who had been standing just outside the passenger door watching the whole thing, James (I asked him his name, and, yes, he told me) to bring some sense into this whole episode. He decided that this was a perfect time to demand some money from me. He would call off Nick from his assault for $20. (Again) I says, Pardon? I told James that I would do all I could to help them out if they needed help, but I would not allow them to rob me. Well, let me tell you, Nick was not pleased by my response (again): more fists, more blood...
Labour Day Weekend - the previous year
I was coming home from work; the sun had long set. It's a long commute to and from work via public transit (walk, bus, skytrain, bus, walk). I was working at a Drop-in-Centre for drug-affected/street-entrenched youth in downtown Vancouver that summer - I was almost done work for the season as school was back in session after the weekend...
I was a mere five minutes from home. Walking along such a long familiar street, in the warmth of the late summer eve, I felt good. Looking around to take in the ambiance, I noticed two cars approaching me. They cruised by slowly the first time. It was during the second pass that they decided to broach a conversation with me. Their leader, or at least I assumed him to be, popped out of the sunroof of the first car and proceeded to strike-up a conversation with me. Unfortunately, the conversation - which was actually not much of a conversation since to be a conversation would require the input of two people - consisted mainly of open threats and abusive insults. Sure, there were questions (such as "what's your f*cking problem asshole?", "you looking to f*cking die?", and "you think you're tough f*ggot?") and suggestions (such as "step up and I'll f*cking kill you" and "come over here so I can kick your f*cking head in") but not much substance to speak of. It's a funny thing how some moments can be so defining. In that moment, in less than a heart beat, I asked myself a question and made a life-long decision. I asked myself, "Who am I?"... "Am I the kind of man who gets into fights?"... "Am I the kind of man who responds with violence?"... "Am I a violent man?". There were certainly many times in the past when I did respond with violence. There were plenty of times when I beat the [you-know-what] out of guys who had threatened me. But the question remains... "Who am I?". In the instant that I asked myself that question, almost before it was even asked, before the thought entered my head, my heart gave me the answer: "You are not a violent man"... "You are a man who suffers insult, who suffers threat, but answers in love or not at all". Yes, that is who I am. I didn't get into a fight that eve. No, I hung my head low. I listened with patience as this young fellow used every taunt, every insult, every threat that he knew. I walked and listened and hung my head as the two cars followed along beside me for half a block before deciding to find their fun elsewhere that eve.
I came to a decision that night - I knew who I was, and what kind of man I wanted to be. I'm glad that I made that decision; I'm glad that I've grown into the man that I am. I'm glad for the sake of broken, hurting, and confused teenagers like Nick and James. They don't need violence in return for their violence. They need love and patience.
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September 5th, 2006
I was driving home from my girlfriend's place (who is now my dear wife) and almost home, meters to go...
We were going to go for a hike the next day so I thought that I would stop by the grocery store on the way home and pick-up some supplies with which to make a nice lunch for the hike. There I was driving home with the groceries piled on the seat next to me, the sun had long since set and it was quite dark and quite late, when I saw two figures walking across the road. I was just about home, in fact I was in front of my home when I stopped, but apparently had time for one little adventure before calling it a night. The two gentlemen, for I now saw that they were a pair of late teen boys, had crossed right in front of my car and I was forced to stop for fear of hitting them. Once I had stopped they came around to the passenger side of my car and I rolled the window down an inch thinking that they might need some help. The closest fellow was shirtless and looked somewhat disheveled. No sooner had I rolled the window down but a mere crack when the shirtless fellow somehow, at the speed of lightning, shoved his entire arm through the opening and opened the door from the inside. Having accomplished this feat, he then proceeded to flop himself down on the passenger seat - yes, right on top of my groceries (and my wallet as well) - and demand that I provide him with some drugs. I says, pardon? He says, drugs! I shake my head in disbelief. I asked the fellow if he needs some help, "can I call somebody for you?". He replies by demanding some coke (yes, cocaine). I make a little joke about my poor little run-down hatchback and my socio-economic status and ask if I look like I have any coke. Nick - as I later found out his name to be - didn't think I was all that funny and proceeded to show me his displeasure at my attempted humour by pummeling me about the face and head. After a short flurry of blows, he let off. What a scene: my blood was splattered all over the inside of my little car and all over myself (not to mention poor Nick got plenty on himself). Following this little physical interaction between us - this predominantly one-sided physical interaction- I decided that Nick required some education about how a gentleman ought to conduct himself in civil society. So, I proceeded to tell Nick as much: "this is no way to go through life", "you should get some help", "there are people you can call, services in place for this kind of thing", "let's talk about this", "we can work through this, there are better ways to deal with your problems", etc. Nick didn't want to talk, he didn't seem to want to work through his problems. I appealed to his comrade, who had been standing just outside the passenger door watching the whole thing, James (I asked him his name, and, yes, he told me) to bring some sense into this whole episode. He decided that this was a perfect time to demand some money from me. He would call off Nick from his assault for $20. (Again) I says, Pardon? I told James that I would do all I could to help them out if they needed help, but I would not allow them to rob me. Well, let me tell you, Nick was not pleased by my response (again): more fists, more blood...
Labour Day Weekend - the previous year
I was coming home from work; the sun had long set. It's a long commute to and from work via public transit (walk, bus, skytrain, bus, walk). I was working at a Drop-in-Centre for drug-affected/street-entrenched youth in downtown Vancouver that summer - I was almost done work for the season as school was back in session after the weekend...
I was a mere five minutes from home. Walking along such a long familiar street, in the warmth of the late summer eve, I felt good. Looking around to take in the ambiance, I noticed two cars approaching me. They cruised by slowly the first time. It was during the second pass that they decided to broach a conversation with me. Their leader, or at least I assumed him to be, popped out of the sunroof of the first car and proceeded to strike-up a conversation with me. Unfortunately, the conversation - which was actually not much of a conversation since to be a conversation would require the input of two people - consisted mainly of open threats and abusive insults. Sure, there were questions (such as "what's your f*cking problem asshole?", "you looking to f*cking die?", and "you think you're tough f*ggot?") and suggestions (such as "step up and I'll f*cking kill you" and "come over here so I can kick your f*cking head in") but not much substance to speak of. It's a funny thing how some moments can be so defining. In that moment, in less than a heart beat, I asked myself a question and made a life-long decision. I asked myself, "Who am I?"... "Am I the kind of man who gets into fights?"... "Am I the kind of man who responds with violence?"... "Am I a violent man?". There were certainly many times in the past when I did respond with violence. There were plenty of times when I beat the [you-know-what] out of guys who had threatened me. But the question remains... "Who am I?". In the instant that I asked myself that question, almost before it was even asked, before the thought entered my head, my heart gave me the answer: "You are not a violent man"... "You are a man who suffers insult, who suffers threat, but answers in love or not at all". Yes, that is who I am. I didn't get into a fight that eve. No, I hung my head low. I listened with patience as this young fellow used every taunt, every insult, every threat that he knew. I walked and listened and hung my head as the two cars followed along beside me for half a block before deciding to find their fun elsewhere that eve.
I came to a decision that night - I knew who I was, and what kind of man I wanted to be. I'm glad that I made that decision; I'm glad that I've grown into the man that I am. I'm glad for the sake of broken, hurting, and confused teenagers like Nick and James. They don't need violence in return for their violence. They need love and patience.
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