Snow and Habits

It happened overnight. Gretna went from green to white in a few hours. I imagine that this overnight snowfall would seem much more magical to us if we were strangers to prairie winters. We are creatures of habit. Most of us form practices that remain relatively unchanged throughout our lifetime. Our morning and evening rituals of hygiene, the way we prepare our bodies and equipment for a game of hockey, our yearly gatherings and gestures during the season of Advent and Christmas – all these regularities bear witness to our human nature and its need for routine and habit.

Thrown into the mix of this need for routine is our surrounding environment. In one sense, the four distinct seasons we have, in the prairies, conforms to our desire for pattern and regularity. Like clockwork, we are pulled through the long winter, into the warm breezes of spring; then we are set before the sun of summer, with beach sand to warm our feet; and finally we see the beauty of fall and its colors. But in a different way, we are also living in a constantly shifting climate/environment.

With the flick of a switch (somewhere up there!), Gretna went from Fall to Winter overnight. We went from patches of brown, green and yellow to pure white and fluffy. I recall, from my childhood, the magic of this time of year. I went from imagining a play fight with bears to thinking of building snow forts, igloos, and play fights with penguins. In a night, a whole world has changed for us in Gretna. But for so many of us adults, this magic newness has worn off for the most part. There are so many things that never change in our lives. The flow of life continues on; the only changes involve us in putting on winter tires, trading a shovel for a rake, and dressing up warm. Something tugged at my heart, this season, when the heavens chose to cover us in white in a few hours.

As our lives repeat the same motions, day after day, we might feel tempted to join the philosopher in saying, “What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun.” But this last snowfall should remind us that newness is possible. A whole new world can envelop us in a moment. That is what this season is all about. That is at the core of Advent. As the days get shorter, colder and darker, there is a new reality breaking-into this one. Advent is the season that bears witness to a new reality breaking into our own dreary-repetitiveness. The light of Christ has vanquished the darkness. We can awaken to a new world if we merely open our hearts to the light of Bethlehem.

My best friend’s daughter died on the first day of Advent. While our whole congregation was cheering for her, with eyes closed and hands folded, little precious Morgan opened her eyes to the new world being made possible by the Christ-child. And as my friends wake up, in snow-covered Winnipeg, they (like us) encounter a new possibility. Amidst the darkness of grief and the monotony of life without their daughter, they (like us) open their eyes to a whole new world that was made possible just over two thousand years ago when a little boy was born in a stable. Open your eyes this season and see that, as if overnight, a whole new world has been made possible!

Short Review

Munroe, Myles. Kingdom Principles: Preparing for Kingdom Experience and Expansion (Shippensburg, PA: Destiny Image Publishers, Inc., 2006).
Reviewed by: Marco Funk
September 2009

The Christian faith is increasingly being asked to ‘speak to power’. On the ‘right and left’ Christians are devoting attention to the question of what it means to be a royal priesthood and the power dynamics that this involves. Moving away from the pie-in-the-sky inward turned spiritualities that focus on quiet or inward piety, Christians are increasingly speaking about outward discipleship and the power relations of citizenship in the kingdom of God (as opposed to the ethereal kingdom of heaven).

Finding his own voice in this move towards power-language is Myles Munroe’s thesis in Kingdom Principles. In simplest terms, Munroe’s thesis is that the Christian faith ought to be about living out our kingdom citizenship here and now and on earth as the Kingdom of Heaven ‘colonizes’ earth. In opposition to what Munroe sees as religion’s focus on the hereafter, the ‘authentic’ Christian gospel was always about a Kingdom on earth. God’s Kingdom of Heaven seeks to colonize earth, and we Christians are citizens of that in-breaking Kingdom, acting as his agents, servants and even vice-regents. Believing that Christians have lost the ‘kingdom concept’ and replaced it with a diminished version of what we’re called, in ‘religion’, Munroe seeks to revitalize and recover this kingdom concept. He does so by outlining some key elements in re-engaging this kingdom vision of the Christian life.

Munroe emphasizes the priority of God’s Kingdom in the life of the believer, standing against all other rulerships and authorities. (Chapter 1 & 2) He introduces and discusses the notion of the Kingdom of God on earth as Heaven’s colonization of God’s created earth (Chapters 3 & 6). Munroe examines the nature of God’s kingship (Chapters 4 & 5) and our participation in that rule (Chapters 5 – 9). Although somewhat repetitive, Munroe clearly establishes his argument that the Kingdom of God breaks into our reality now already and that we as humans have an authentic participation in God’s rule. I applaud him in his bold argument, especially when remnants of the Lutheran two-kingdom theology keep today’s Christians from examining the ways in which the Kingdom of God loosens the grip of earthly sovereigns over our allegiance.

That said, there are some major deficiencies in Munroe’s project. There are key places, in his argument, where Munroe doesn’t take his own logic far enough. For example, in his argument that the Kingship of God over all the earth means that all land & material belongs to him, and that all ownership is therefore relativized , Munroe avoids texts like Leviticus 25, which make this arguments more clearly than even he does. In Leviticus 25, we learn that everything that is belongs to the Lord and for this reason all slaves are to be released, all land must return to its original owners every fifty years, all debts must be released, etc… In other words, Munroe avoids the Jubilee legislation, which is precisely the ‘ancient’ economics of God’s kingdom. If Munroe would have payed attention to this text he may not have ‘bragged’ about his own possession of land and the benefits of getting into real estate. He seems to contradict his own argument when, at first, he argues about the relativization of ownership and the later emphasis on owning territory as our participation in God’s sovereign rule over creation.

Another example of this kind weak exegesis is when Munroe argues that citizens of God’s kingdom are never in want because they have God’s infinite resources at their disposal. The issue of ‘want’ and resources are taken up in the life of the early church in which the disciples and early Christians shared a common purse. The lack of want in this ‘colony of heaven’ is, according to the early church experience, not premised on unlimited financial power, but in the willingness of Christians to submit to one another in love and share their stuff. Munroe passes over this primarily because of his account of power and sovereignty.

In light of the common currents of Christian takes on power and authority, Munroe falls quite neatly in what some have deemed ‘prosper theology’. Although he paints his project with a different stroke (the language of kingdom rather than prosperity), Munroe is essentially developing an argument about the character of the Christian life in terms of power and success as defined by this world. It is strange that Munroe would spend so much time focusing on secular examples of what it means to have kingship and power, then reading those accounts back into scripture. A Christian approach would be to get our understanding of kingdom, power and success from the bible itself; more specifically, from the power, authority and success that is narrated in the story of the Suffering Servant, Jesus of Nazareth.

The power that pervades Munroe’s focus is a power that lords over nature, over finances, and over people – yet it is precisely this kind of power that Jesus eschews as he calls his followers to bear the cross, wash each other’s feet, and become the ‘least of these’. While we can welcome a renewed focus on the concept of Kingdom, we must be wary of any attempts that define kingship and power without a clear articulation of those concepts in light of how God Almighty defines them on the cross and in his complete humiliation at Golgatha. I’ll let Saint Paul deal the finishing blow:

1 Corinthians 1:21-29 21 For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, God decided, through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe. 22 For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, 23 but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, 24 but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength. 26 Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. 27 But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; 28 God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, 29 so that no one might boast in the presence of God.

A response from Anne Rice

In my previous blog post on new-vampirism I leveled some hasty criticisms at the new fad. I sent the post to Rice herself and she wrote this response:

It's an interesting post, yes, and I thank you for writing to me and offering to me to read. However, I would caution again assuming the new vampire craze is entirely shallow. Often we don't know right away what a new literary or cinematic obsession is really about. The things people say now about my work are entirely different from the remarks made about it when I started writing. --- I think the present craze is extremely interesting and we should look as deeply as we can into the workings of it. --- I'm convinced for one thing that the vampire is a powerful metaphor for the outsider in us, for the lonely one, the lost one, and the predator. --- When I sit down to dinner in a world where people in Africa are starving, I am a vampire. --- That's what this whole obsession is about, dealing with the shock of conscience and consciousness in a world of dizzying inequity, and dealing with our recognition that we engage in the pursuit of happiness while millions of our brothers and sisters are dying of disease and starvation and from various forms of injustice. --- The vampire's hypersensual existence is a metaphor for our affluent life in America. Western civilization is providing us with wealth, comfort, and beauty on a scale undreamt of in ages past. We're a little drunk with all of it. -----Teenagers feel confusion and guilt keenly because they are just becoming aware of their own individuality, their own choices, and their own guilts. ---- Of course no one has to analyse contemporary film and literary obsessions but obviously you do choose to look at these things, and I would say again, look more deeply. ----- It took many years for my work to gain respect. It was completely dismissed in the beginning and, by many it is dismissed now. Let's give Stephanie Meyer and Charlaine Harris a little more time. Let's give the teenagers a little more time. --- volumes could be written on these new writers and what they provide and why they entrall. American culture, a world of malls and giant public schools, for all its wealth, can be seen in some quarters as fairly sterile. And teenagers longing for romance and fantasy are rebelling against that sterility, just as Christians rebel against it. We want something more. The teen readers of vampire romance want something more. They are thrilled by the heroic, and the tragic. And this is not a bad thing. Not at all. ---- Thanks again. Anne Rice. (If you want to quote or publish this, by all means do. I haven't gotten to the heart of it here, but I'm looking.)

I welcome this important reminder to read our culture with charitable and deeply penetrating eyes. Thanks Anne!

Bits and Bites

"Do not be astonished at this; for the hour is coming when all who are in their graves will hear his voice and will come out-- those who have done good, to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil, to the resurrection of condemnation."

John 5:28-29

How ought Christians to think about the recent surge of interest in all things gothic, vampiric and undead? What ideologies lie behind this fascination with death and the beyond-death experience? I can't help but delve into this topic. I am fascinated with zombie movies insofar as they are an attempt to put our culture's fears, hatreds and loves on display in the guise of an undead thriller. I learn a lot about my surrounding culture from these flicks.

Just recently, I spent a week teaching bible at camp and was surprised to see how many of the teens were enthralled with vampire and werewolf fantasy. When I asked the kids why they liked them so much, their answers usually pointed to romance and the fantastical. These romances function in a similar way than does the classic Shakespeare tale Romeo and Juliet. Forbidden love is exciting stuff.

It may seem easy to write-off this attraction as something that is relatively innocent, but I have a sneaking suspicion that this 'forbidden love' dynamic is far more sinister than we usually think. Dare we entertain the notion that there is love to be shared with that which is 'resurrected unto condemnation'?

The vampire genre is more interesting to analyze than the zombie genre, precisely because it adds a level of intelligibility and beauty to undead 'life'. Anne Rice was, perhaps, one of the first authors to seriously ask whether or not there was beauty in the life of the undead. Her Vampire chronicles include numerous vampire characters that strive against their dark desires in an effort to pursue the good and the beautiful. Then there are other vampire characters, in her world, who completely indulge in the dark hunger, finding beauty even within the brutish hunt for human prey. In her early work, Rice explores whether or not goodness can be found in 'the resurrection unto condemnation' - in the 'life' of the undead. Yet Rice is clear, in all of her character studies, that the life of the undead is a life without God; or, at least, in constant struggle against God (contra Israel, who struggles with God). Yet her whole interest in their life is to ask whether or not we can find beauty in the 'old world', that which will be raised unto destruction.

Recent vamprism has fully embraced the secular worldview. Questions about God and goodness need not enter into the discussion. Vampires can have girlfriends and lovers. There are 'good' vampires who just sip their blood instead of indulging in bloodbaths. The question is no longer, as it was for Rice: can there be beauty and goodness in the life of the undead? Rather, beauty is relative to the one who is lured, by their own desires, to choose one form of (non)life over another form of (non)life; which is just another way of saying that there is no more beauty, just shades of grey. Will the main character partner with one group of killers or another?

While Rice eventually threw her chips in with the Christian (Catholic) faith, most of her disciples are now being lulled into the grey sleep of pop-vampirism that no longer asks the difficult questions about the 'life' of the undead. Now the question is: can the undead keep a girlfriend happy? Not Rice's question: Can the undead be happy? Anne Rice took the path that continues to ask difficult questions about life and happiness; though it is a committed path, trusting Christ's words that link the 'life' of the undead (resurrection) to 'the Good' and to those who have 'done good'. Pop-vampirism is just another distraction and another coat of grey in a world that has otherwise been opened-up to the bright and beautiful colours of the resurrection-life of the born-again.

Bring on the Pain: Getting Wet in Gretna

I survived, but just barely. The Hot Spot festival was a lot of fun, but it caused me more pain that I’ve experienced in a while. No. I’m not talking about the excruciatingly embarrassing attempt at covering a Queen song during the Karaoke event. No. I’m not even talking about the painful sweat inducing heat that the rest of you Gretna folk are acclimatized to. The pain was a result of my decision to participate in the dunk-tank. The seat on the dunk-tank is tilted forward and down just a bit; just enough to make it so that the only thing keeping me from sliding into the water was the strength of my abdominal muscles. Needless to say, I could barely move on Sunday morning.

I didn’t think moving to Gretna would involve me in such torturous activities. At first glance, the community seemed warm (not in the temperature sense), hospitable and friendly. And then came the pain – minute after minute of ab-straining torture. But that’s what moving to a new place is all about. It’s about growing into a new set of shoes, a new role and a whole new group of relationships. Moving into a new community is a bit like sitting on a dunk-tank; you have to learn to use muscles you don’t normally use. I’ve had to learn to rethink neighbourliness, how to drive on rural roads and how to keep up with cracking sunflower seeds with the best of them. It has stretched muscles I didn’t even know I had.

I guess, the easiest and least ‘painful’ approach to moving into Gretna would have been to avoid actually getting into the community. You don’t have to painfully stretch if you stick to yourself, all alone. It is when you try to live in a community, and actually be a community, that you get into situations that cause us to grow. The 2009 Hot Spot festival is one of those ‘painful’ memories, for me, that will keep reminding me of what becoming a community actually looks like… and feels like. It feels like a new opportunity to grow, develop new strengths (abs and otherwise), and just have a great time!

The Futile and the Beautiful

I have used my rubber boots a fair bit since April. And although I managed to avoid traipsing around in flood-waters, I’ve dirtied them in my backyard garden. My small plot of soil has seen some immense changes since Karen and I first moved to town. It is nowhere near the Garden of Eden, but also no longer the frozen Popsicle that it was on December 15 of last year, when we moved to town. My friend Dan helped out with the garden, digging through the lawn with his tractor, ripping up the old sod.

Karen and I have planted a variety of things; including strawberries, jalapenos, carrots, tomatoes, and much more. I gently sprayed the grass on the garden plot with some lethal chemicals, in order to make room for these wonderful treats. I was obviously not doing this right because there’s still grass growing in my garden and now one of my spruce trees is dead. Aim was never my strong suit. It seems that my attempts at turning my yard into a heavenly garden are continually frustrated. It is futile. Here I am, a grown man and I am picking blades of grass from my garden. I can’t use chemicals now because the seeds to my garden have sprouted. I guess I’ll have to let the good stuff grow with the bad. I may get to one or two blades of grass here or there, but it is really quite futile.

On the other hand, boots are made to get dirty. The shiny newness of my boots was never meant to last. Was the Garden of Eden supposed to remain pristine? I want to say yes. But it didn’t last. And so we have a world where grass and weeds battle it out with onions and potatoes. But in the messiness, we also have beauty. We have a world where friends help each other dig gardens. As I inch my way closer to a garden worth taking a picture of, I’m glad that even amidst all the futility – the weeds, the hurts, and the dirty boots – there is also immense, deep and rich beauty.

Boots and Burial

Well, my house is still dry as I’m writing this. I’ve been getting a variety of messages about flooding patters in the area. Some people tell me that the Gretna dike isn’t high enough. Others tell me not to worry. I don’t mind warnings, but it is the disparity of views that makes me nervous. In preparation for the possibility of flood, I went out to Altona’s Farm Service to pick up some quality Gumschtoevel (rubber boots). And to test them out, I figured it would be great to go check on something that has been tugging at me for quite some time now. I checked into my family history to see if any of my relatives had ever lived in this area. To my amazement, I found out that my great-great-great grandmother was buried in the Edenburg cemetery, just a few miles east of Gretna. And so, with my shiny new rubber boots tightly hugging my calves and feet, Lucy (my pet dog) and I set out east. We drove the short distance in my seven-year old Honda Civic.

After safely parking my car at the side of the road, and making sure to turn on my hazard lights, Lucy and I began our search. We found her grave within a few minutes. Margaretha (Sawatzky) Rempel was her name. She was born in 1833 and she died in 1914. She was married to Johann S. Rempel (1830-1899), who was buried in Chortitz, on the east side of the Red River. I’m not sure what Lucy was thinking, as she watched me carefully read the inscription on the memorial cairn that had been placed there in 1994. I’m not sure if Lucy could sense my delight in finally being able to discover some connection to this land and to this place. Being a first-generation Canadian (my parents were born in Paraguay), it has always been a challenge for me to identify with the ground beneath my feet – with the people of this country and its culture. But with grandma’s final resting place before me, I felt as if this community might still offer me a home. Gretna isn’t that far from Edenburg and, in fact, the descendents of those who sang and prayed at Margaretha’s funeral continue to sing and pray, and now together with me, to the One who will determine the level of the waters and all things. This place is beginning to feel like home.