When the saints went marching

Image

MLK Jr. day was on Monday. I went to my first march and it was incredible.

The march snaked for two miles along Seattle’s streets. It started in the Central District, and moved through Capitol Hill, ending at WestLake Park. A multitude of people, fighting for a plethora of causes, turned up to have their voices heard. There were friends and families fighting for the Free Nestora Salgado Campaign.  There were those against mangling and powerful nuclear weapons that nations spend millions of dollars stock piling.

Nuclear WarHeadThere were Buddhist for peace, Iron Workers, Steel Workers Union, Teachers, Black Panthers, Communists, Socialist, The Rainbow Coalition, and every other strip in between.  

The largest faction of the day were the $15ph minimum wagers. Led by newly elected Socialist city council member Kshama Sawant, they were a sea of effusive crimson platelets surging forward for their cause.

The call – “What do we want?”

Westlake Mall

The response – “15”

The call – “When do we want it?”

The response – “NOW!”

I  am aware that many of the feet that ate up ground with me that day, would go in radically different directions to me on many, many issues. Be it economics, race, sexual ethics or religion, but there was a chord that bound us together. There was a throbbing, prophetic impulse, that echoed the Isianic cry of all humanity – “Oh! That you would rend the heavens and come down.” Is 64:1. It is a realisation that all is not well with the world, creation groans for redemption.

Although these modern prophets and preachers would balk at my religious reading of the march, to me it was 2.1 mile prayer offered. Joyful, intense, crude, sweat stained prayers; cries exploding from human hearts for heaven to influence earth again.

During the march, I saw around me a congregation of brother’s and sisters, mothers and fathers desperate for the will of the Father to be done. Sure, some of them see through the mirror dimly (don’t we all?) and some don’t even believe the mirror exists, but I know they echoed the heart of the Father.

My heart has been full, but aching, since the march. As a witness of Christ’s inaugurated kingdom, and a herald of the renewal of all creation, I want to meaningfully demonstrate the gospel to my brothers and sisters in the here and now. Bill Johnson in his book Hosting the Presence, p96 makes the point that since the treasure of heaven (the Holy Spirit) has been released amongst us. “To look for another open Heaven is to incorrectly steward the one we’ve been given.”  I pray that we will all be faithful stewards of our cities, towns, villages, hamlets and homes in 2014. I pray that we will add our time, voice, and money in coaxing the moral arch of the universe to bend toward justice.

amen —

This is life.

20140116-161154.jpg

I came home last night around 10pm. My wife had told me that our daughter was still up, which is unusual for her.

Nothing could have prepared me for what happened when I opened the front door. My 7.5 month year old daughter saw me, and before I could take another step in the house she squealed. A toothless, dribbling laugh that arrested all my worries, and incarcerated by concerns. Then she started to jump ecstatically on my wife’s lap, and beckoned me toward her newly created euphoric space, with her plump little hands.

I breathed in every last drop of her sweet happy dance, and burst into a smile. After exiting the stage of the days events, where I am judged on my performance, and critiqued on my output, it is soul restoring to slip behind the proscenium, and be anointed by the rich adoration of my daughter. Not because I performed, but because I exist.

In that moment she transformed ordinary life into a eucharistic act, and became a faithful witness of God’s unfettered love to me.

This

Is

Life.

A Clean Slate

20120101-094140.jpg

Happy New Year!

I was going to begin the year with an entry about Turduckens, Steve Jobs and the 99%. The more I thought about it the less interesting it seemed or relevant to anything in life. lol.

So instead, I would like to share a poem by an up and coming writer (who will be re-establishing her online presence soon (“,) This was some thoughts she put down regarding 2011.

For the friends I lost, for the hard lessons i learned,
for the sacrifices made and thanks i didn’t get in return,
for the hell i caused myself and the consequences I felt,
for all the forced good-byes and the bad cards I was dealt,
for all the battle scars & wounds that i didn’t deserve,
for the opportunities i didn’t take because i didn’t have the nerve,
for people I could’ve helped but was to selfish to act,
for the things I could’ve had, but splurged and then lacked
for the words i used as weapons & words never spoken,
for the anger that I hid for peace and the pieces of my heart left broken…
this LAST cry of 2011 is for you, these tears are the soap and water for my soul, washing the chapters of 2011 closed. #itsallgood

Kimberly Pearson.

I love the last line especially washing the chapters of 2011. It reminds of something I read this morning regarding Papyrus. It was a writing material used in antiquity, and the ink used had no acid in it like our Ink today. So it didn’t ‘bite’ into the papyrus as modern ink does. So if a mistake was made, or you wanted to start from scratch all you had to do was to get a damp sponge and wipe it clean, then it ceased to exist. So I take the promise of a clean slate into 2012. I give permission to God, the careful cosmic editor of my life to wipe out the sin, the mistakes, the bad choices, the embarrassment of 2012!

 I am excited by the promise that is held by this year, its a blank canvass, so many possibilites. There is much learning, loving, and living to be done and only 366 days to cram it in to (leap year) Get busy!