Pleasant surprises can come from the most unexpected sources.i find as I grow older there seems so much disrespect in the world that I greatly appreciate it's opposite.So I was surprised,even somewhat taken aback last night to hear a younger native man call me "Uncle."By that he doesn't literally mean that I am his uncle.It's just a term of respect that Canadian native people from his part of northern Canada use when addressing an elder.It may be that the darkened color of my skin led him to mistake me as native.That's been known to have happened in the past,as I can grow quite dark in summer months.It really makes no difference.I was,in fact honored to be addressed as "uncle."To be truthful,relations with native people here in Western Canada can be strained at times,by the weight of negative history,but I've always tried to treat people right.At times I've been accepted by people of other races,and at times I have not.But I believe I've done my best to not practice racial prejudice.So,it made my whole week,in fact,my whole year to date,to have that recognized when a younger native man called me "uncle."

Some Thoughts About Being a Liberal Christian

Well,I've spent some more time reading "Jesus Was a Liberal" and I find it a very interesting read.A few weeks back a man asked me how it was I could call myself both Liberal and Christian at the same time.Quite honestly,I've never really experienced the cognitive dissonance that my friend seems to come by naturally,as a Conservative when hearing "liberal" and "Christian"in the same political conversation.What's interesting is that my friend,who measures himself as an agnostic seems to picture Christianity as belonging solely to right wing side of the political spectrum.I might well ask how one can be agnostic,or even atheist and still consider themselves conservative,but I'm not going to bother.That would only serve to extend the obvious error of not thinking beyond my immediate perceptions in such matters.

What does it mean to call oneself a Christian.I'll deal with that first as it's a relatively easy question to answer.It means that one believes in God,and in Christ,his Son who was sent to die for my salvation,if I believe in him by faith and accept the free gift of his grace.But I would have to say that by the time I became a Christian,many of my political ideas were fully formed.They may not have been informed by my current faith,but I don't believe that most of them are bad ideals.And in truth,I consider them subject to the guidance of the Holy Spirit and to change,if necessary.

My political views are essentially Liberal.And I'll take the time to lay down what I consider the central idea of Liberalism,so far as I understand it.Liberalism grew out of the Enlightenment and began as the idea that we could subject all things,including politics and theology to reason,and then be free to choose from among those ideas.Of course,this implied a lot of wrong ideas,perhaps,but that could hardly be worse than the church of the day having a nearly complete monopoly on social control.And the Catholic Church of that day were conservative in nearly every respect,not encouraging people to read and/or think about religion.Anyone who valued their reputation and life was expected to swallow the word whole,as presented by priests.So,in fact,enlightened Liberalism was largely responsible for enabling the religious freedoms we know today.

In terms of social implications,Liberalism to me is synonymous with human rights and egalitarianism,or the idea that all people should have access to the same opportunities.Accordingly,if I say I am a believer in egalitarianism and human rights,I must be willing to fund those ideals through government.Therefor,I believe in public education for all,public health care,and a basic social safety net.Now,in point of fact,I can find support for these ideals way back in the time of Moses.For instance,it was forbidden for Israel to glean wheat from their fields more than once,and the poor were permitted to glean at the corners of the fields.Primitive though it may be this has all the markings of  social welfare.

So how did Liberal become a dirty word among conservative Christians?Well,as I noted,more than a few really bad ideas resulted from the newly found freedom to inquire.Freedom of most kinds carries that possibility.It's implicit in the concept of freedom.For instance,the Theory of Evolution is most likely a "liberal"idea,in the sense that no one would have dared propose it two hundred years prior to Darwin.But that is far from saying that all Liberals actually believe in it.In fact there seem to be a growing number of scientists who question the theory.

That brings me back to the book"Jesus Was a Liberal,"not because I'm prepared to give a long commentary,at this point on it,but because it's author makes a great point about liberalism and the response of many conservatives to all things liberal.To paraphrase,he notes that the term liberal has taken on the meaning of godless or secular or anti-religious.In so doing,the book quotes another author I've been reading recently,Ann Coulter:"liberalism rejects the idea of God and reviles people of faith."

A few words,and I'll try to hold it at a few,about Ann Coulter are in order.While reading her book,the first thing that came to mind is that she paints liberals with a very wide brush.Imagine my surprise at finding out that among the things I hold "sacred" in the mind of Coulter at least is "killing the unborn"and "allowing dangerous criminals to go free."Fortunately I managed to put down Coulters book in a laundramat and it was stolen.After the first five insufferable chapters I got the general idea.While Coulter might be doing a great job of defining ALL liberals,to her own edification,I do not need Ann Coulter to tell me what I believe.And for the record,I am pro life and in favor of keeping dangerous criminals off the streets forever,Coulters comments notwithstanding.The point is that I attempt to subject political thinking to both reason and scriptural scrutiny.Above I mentioned one example of how scripture might be interpreted as liberal.It is far from the only example.Liberalism to me reflects the love and care for our fellow humans that Jesus spoke and preached about.Even so,it does seem true that it's the "Religious Right"that most people view as the face of Christianity.I suspect that many Christians find themselves on the right side of the political spectrum for reasons of belief that not every Christian,or for that matter,every Christian sect believes in.But I wish,instead of trying to explain my beliefs to me as though they were the definitive authority,they would explain their own beliefs to me and allow them to be questioned.

Memoir Writers Homework/Transportation.

"The Old Trail,just moseys right along,
moves at the speed of a sweet love song..."

The rivers used to be roads,and the roads rivers.The Saint John must have been the number one highway in those days.Those days were ended before my days ever began,but I could still see the ghosts of that time when we took the old road that meandered by the river.A few logs being floated to mill,where once the river was full of logs,so that you could walk across on them from bank to bank.Old covered bridges and broken down,waterlogged river craft.

Mostly we went places by car,where we could watch little bits of the past drift by the windows as we sped on in the opposite direction.And the cars we had,most often two of them were grand things:a 1961 Valiant,an old Nash Rambler,a 1964 Chevelle,and the 1966 Chevy Impala SS which became my first car.Until they too drifted away,to rust in a hay field,where we could see them as we roared by.

The old road,the one that followed the river wasn't good enough.Because the province needed more power,they built a dam,and the old road gave way to one on higher ground.But you could still drive along the rivers banks and dream of the time past when it would carry men along at it's own speed,back when rivers were roads and roads were rivers.

Then,even the new road wasn't enough for us and it needed to be replaced with one on which you could by-pass nearly everything,cut hours of driving time,and arrive no more rested and far less edified.

There seem to be words that the road builders hate,and try to drive from our language.Words like "pastoral" and "meander.""Pastoral" as in a pastoral painting.Native children with a string of trout.Jersey cows grazing by a covered bridge,or an old woman gathering herbs.Back then,while driving,I could see my province in pastoral,impressionistic splendor."Meander"as in to travel the way the river does and enjoy it's green banks.But who needs that kind of road,because roads were not intended for the soul.So they cut a new one,straight as an arrow through the heart of the province.It will get you to all the same places,but by-passes everything,giving thought to nothing.It cannot recall the time when rivers were roads and roads were rivers,nor even when roads meandered by pastoral riverside.But I remember.

The Quote is from a song called "The Old Trail",by Don Williams.From back when country music still existed.

memoir writers homework/bullies

Bullies seem to be a part of everyone's life and certainly Moncton had it's share.My mother believed in finding and recognizing the good in everyone,and of speaking only of that good.She must have been deeply troubled at the state of our world in the mid 1970's but chose to remain outwardly naive about many things.During those years,two policemen were killed,their killers found,tried and sentenced to death,only to have their sentences commuted.Then a small girl disappeared at the beginning of summer.Some monster must have snatched her away and as I grew older I came to recognize more clearly what such monsters do.

I wanted to go on the search for this girl and my mother decided to allow it .I was 14 at the time and when I went on the search with a neighbor,I discovered a bully,and a thought as to why all things seemed to be going to Hell in a handbasket.At the time,it was unusual for us to even lock our front doors.

We piled into my neighbors car,went to the police station,where hundreds had gathered and at the command center were assigned an area to search.Our area turned out to be northeast of town.Moncton is divided,northeast to southwest such that to the north and east the rural communities are predominantly French,while to the south and east they are English,United Empire Loyalist.So,being of the latter category I found myself in a very different world in many ways.

By mid morning we had searched ditches and fields near the road,finding no sign of anything suspicious.At last we came to a tiny church with an equally tiny man outside,cutting it's lawn and tidying up it's grounds.We approached.He spoke hardly any English,though he seemed to know why we were there.My neighbor,who reminded me of a great hairless bear asked the man in English if we could search in the church.His voice was loud,as it always tended to be.Even in polite conversation it's volume was just a notch too loud for the occasion.He took a step towards the man while asking.His eyes were fixed on the door.His manner did not invite no as an answer.Why would the missing girl be in the church?Still,he desired to inspect the church.The groundskeeper nodded his assent,looked at the ground and stepped aside.We looked into the small sanctuary.A single,straight ahead view allowed us to take in all of it and there was no sign of anything that should not have been there.So we left.And I thought of those two men for all my life since and how much of Moncton's social reality was spoken in that mostly unspoken event.And I began to be aware of certain undercurrents that my mother was uncomfortable recognizing.Wolves often wear sheep's clothing.

Normally I like to finish reading a book before I offer a review of it,or for that matter,even comments about it.I think that it's nearly as bad judging a book by it's first fifty or so pages as it is to judge it by it's cover.The book I'm speaking of,just added to the "What I'm Reading" section of this blog is entitled "Jesus Was A Liberal-Reclaiming Christianity For All,by Rev.Scotty McLennan.


Now I would have to say,a book with this particular title is provocative to the point that it invites itself to be judged by the cover.I can just see copies of it being cast into the flames in church parking lots all over middle America,and some places in Canada as well.You couldn't necessarily accuse all kinds of Christians as being open minded.But many are,hence a book like this one which,even if you disagree with it's premise,clearly stated on it's cover,offers a perspective worth considering.

For now,I want to speak to a single premise made by Reverend McLennan early on in the book.But before we go there,I must comment on the title.This will bear some further discussion later perhaps,when I've actually read the entire book,but let me simply say,I think it's perhaps not a good thing to hang a label on Jesus,or anyone else for that matter.I consider myself a Liberal,and I know what I mean when I say that.But here is what political labels really accomplish:they justify the perception of the person doing the perceiving based on their own political views.So.for instance,when I say I do not believe in capital punishment,others,usually conservatives will react by saying"He's a Liberal."But,when I say I do not support abortion,others,usually liberals will respond by saying"he's a right wing,intolerant,bible thumping red neck"Somehow both sides miss the consistent pro- life leaning when they try to neatly arrange everyone into one of just two categories,based on the totality of what they think.And to be certain,not all Liberals,or Conservatives think the same things.I know that certainly applies to me.As a Liberal I'm constantly astonished at some of my more conservative beliefs.

Political and moral beliefs and the expression of them is a complex matter.Labels, I find are just too simplistic when applied to almost anyone.Imagine how much more difficult it would be to attribute particular political beliefs to a person who clearly transcends us all in terms of thought and view.We can take note of particular statements made by Christ,or actions carried out by him and from that, perceive those actions in a particular political light,but I would be hesitant to label The Living God in terms of human politics.After all,the greatest fallacies seem to stem from us forgetting who God really is.But I will look forward to seeing if Reverend McLennan can present a reasonable,if insufficient proof of his claim.

Now,as I said,I find I must take issue with a particular point raised early on in this book.That is,that it was,and is the "Judeo-Christian" position,throughout history that life begins at birth,as opposed to conception.I don't intend to take up the well known and entrenched arguments here,but I simply want to point out why I believe you cannot justify such a statement as being a Christian belief.And I will note here that McLennan says,to paraphrase,that just because one believes in life from the moment of birth,it does not follow that they were not"concerned with potential life."However,concern simply does not address the actual problem here.And the problem is that such an argument undermines the whole of Christian thought,the whole of Christian history as revealed in scripture.If life began at birth,and not conception,we ought to be able to apply that idea to the life of Christ.Yet that is far from the thrust of Christian belief.The whole telling of the Biblical story goes far beyond the idea of potential life as being a fetus.Christ was conceived of by an omnipotent God as a means to salvation from the beginning,such that we could receive that salvation either by looking forward in history,or back,as we do today,and believing in faith.His identity is revealed to us through prophecy that pre-dates his actual physical birth by hundreds,and in some cases thousands of years,yet is more than sufficient to establish his identity.All of scripture foreshadows the existence and purpose of Christ.Moreover,there is scriptural narrative of repeated attempts to extinguish the line of decendancy of Christ,again,from the beginning of recorded history.In each attempt,there is supernatural provision made to direct the purpose of God in establishing salvation,as revealed by the prophets and all of Biblical revelation.So clearly,Christ was considered a person,by God,long before his immaculate conception.It follows,then,that if we were to rightly claim that life begins at birth,we would be justified in doing,for medical or other reasons,what God's hand has prevented throughout Christian history,and the very salvation  which Christians regard as central to their belief ceases to be legitimate.Now obviously many people still believe that life begins at birth.Many are Christians.But,as for myself,I cannot sustain belief in that,and in the whole of scripture too.That building is simply not square.You simply must illiminate one side of that equation,either belief in life that begins at birth,or biblical belief.

Memoir/introduction part two/things.

Every memoirist thinks a lot about how the world has changed,I think.It's part of the whole memoir process.With that being said,I find it helpful and necessary to make this list,far from complete,of things that hadn't shown themselves in the world when I was young.That was in the days before:Ipods,Iphones,Itunes,Facebook,Youtube,email,Google,Kijiji.Craigslist,SUVs,microwave ovens,photo radar,frozen pizza,ATMs,tasers,cell phones,usb chords,DVD players.CDs,Blue Ray,bug lamps,The Green Party,space shuttles,Mars probes,GPS,,space saver tires,drivers licenses with photos,garage door openers,self serve gas stations,ornate running shoes,personal heart monitors,daycare,seniors daycare,doggie,daycare,dog training collars,dog parks,pooper scoopers,rubber dog turds,humane mouse traps,security cameras,key cards,satellite radio,apps,fish finders,colored duct tape,computerized car motors,twitter,Tickle Me Elmo.Cabbage Patch Kids,metal baseball bats,fast food drive throughs,online university,online gambling,online dating,online porn,online anything,police helicopters,football replay,rap music,privatized liquor stores,radar detectors,check cashing outlets,self serve checkouts at the grocery store,Mega malls,mega churches,praise courses sung in those mega churches,e readers,smart phones,smart cars,Google Maps,nail guns,crack,meth,prozac,viagra,red light cameras,global warming,portable toilets,internet cafes,cruise control,airport security,fanny packs,telephone solicitors,airborn traffic reports,AIDS,ADHD,fetal alcohol syndrome,west nile fever,lyme disease,mad cow disease,Snooki,Justin Beiber,New Kids On The Block,Taylor Swift,Michael Jackson,chemical castration,Dr.Laura,what would we do without her,bless her soul,Dr.Phil,Steve Harvey,Ellen,Oprah,Geraldo Rivera,Maury Povich,Judge Wapner,Judge Judy,and,of course Jerry Springer,Rush Limbaugh,Al Franken-no relation to franken foods,Don Imus,Howard Stern,Jaws,Close Encounters,Star Wars,Nightmare On Elm Street,Silence Of The Lambs,The Little Mermaid,Harry Potter,American Idol,,Dancing with the stars,Ice Road Truckers,Mayday,Wild Hogs and of course,my favorite,Swamp people.Well,in truth there were swamp people when I was a kid,but I never saw any because we didn't live anywhere near a swamp and they never ventured into town,except perhaps on Halloween.In those days "Hillbilly Handfishing was something that involved a trench coat and a dimly lit part of Centenial Park,or at least that's how the romours had it.

That's a partial list and I'm sure it will double in size before I die because people have the audacity to keep inventing things the world managed to get along without less than sixty years ago.I do like the idea of dumping a lot of Viagra into the fishing hole though.I cuts way down on lying for some reason.If I were an inventor,I might get in on the act myself...looking at all these TV personalities and"reality"shows it sure seems as if TTN would be a great place to start.Trailer Trash Network.Seems like a good idea to me with the way the worlds going.

memoir/introduction part1/a cast of characters.

Mother was short and heavy.Religious.Father was slim,neither tall nor short.Emaciated in his later years.Everyone called Mrs.West,"old Granny"She taught sixth grade and ruled with an iron hand.She used the strap a lot.Kenny lived down the street at house #59.The first best friend I remember.He moved to Lewisville before we started school..I met the girl across the street by having a rock fight with her.Her name was Karen.She had an older brother and a huge doberman named Brandy.We used to ride Her dog like a pony."Grandpa was a carpenter,he built house stores and bank..."And he said he built ships.He also built an outhouse with as much care as it took to build any house.Howard was a large boy and his father a large man.A policeman.Uncle Bill was a mountie.Peter was the first new boy I met in grade one.His head looked like an egg.Robin was a toddler when he threw a whole room full of toys out the window and into a snow drift.His father drove an eighteen wheeler.Randy Hopper was a Sunday School teacher.He had a very red face.Mr.Wiseman was another Sunday school teacher,who was nearly blind.They called Patrick"Rabbits."He lived down the street and had a lot of brothers and sisters "Because they were Catholic"His sister and another girl were hit by a car one night.The other girl died.Ann and Pierre,and later their twin brothers lived across the street next to Karen's house.Mr.Duffy lived on the other side of Karen.Sometimes he would use an arc welder in his garage and light up the whole street.Robin lived on street over and was what was then called "retarded"We were not allowed to say"retarded."My parents knew a couple called Don and Linda.They had two older kids and lived in the West End.They were divorced,then Don died in a fire.Uncle Ernie ran an Esso station and store at the top of the hill in Canterbury.No one called Randy retarded,but he was never quite right.Big as a rhino,mean as a snake.He could be your friend,but he turned on a dime.Patricia was a ten year old flirt with long blond hair.Mrs.Johnson was a nasty old woman who treasured her own misery..The Clarks lived beside us and owned a store on St.George Street.Their kids were Suzanne,Nancy and Danny,all older than me.There were some tough kids who lived on the other side of Mountain Road who stole kids lunch money at school.Grandmother Davis was short and had a very sharp tongue.Mrs.Sherwood lived on our street and taught school.Everyone said she was nasty.My sister said she was sweet.Mr.Cormier lived beside us.He fixed televisions and worked long hours in his garden.Mr.Brooks was the church pastor.He was old,tall and very kind.Brad lived behind my grandmother Graham.We played together when we were small.He bit me on the hand once.He was there when I fell down the steps at his house and split my head open.There was a lunatic who lived near my grandmother,but no one called her that,until I got older.Laura was a cousin who opened a store in downtown Canterbury.I didn't like her children when we were small.Mr,McMillian was a school vice principal.We never saw eye to eye.His wife was a teacher and school librarian.My grandfather Davis lived in a large rooming house in Pugwash.There was an old woman there who could imitate bird songs and crow like a rooster.Art lived in Springhill,and taught me how to play golf.His wife was Eileen and her father was Ed.He liked to watch the ocean.Mr.Grant lived in a summer cottage close to ours.He once told me he'd seen a UFO.Aunt Roseanna moved around a lot.From Nova Scotia to Alberta and back.Her husband was a loud little Dutchman.My Grandmothers brother married Americans and lived in Maine.Uncle Clifford and his wife lived in Fredricton on Charlotte Street.He worked at the university.My great aunt was Anna English and her husband was Fred.She had TB when I was small and lived in a sanatorium.I asked her a question about God once.Her and Fred were religious and loved children.My grandmother may have had ADHD.She never stopped moving.The red headed kid was a pervert.A man with a fiddle came to our house every Saturday night.His name was Don Messer and he came via the TV.Uncle Fred Davis lived in Germany for a while.I never knew his family well.There were many barbers at the barber school,but they all looked alike.I looked like them too after they cut my hair.There was an old security guard who tried to chase me away from the hospital.Jeannie was a border at our house.She married a man called Ray who worked at the CNR shops.Her father was murdered by a man named Alan Legere.Old Jimmy ran a candy store in Springhill.He was Greek and loved seeing my father.I visited a barber in Springhill once too.We stayed at Mrs.Bantings house when my mother worked.I was standing with her in the driveway once and saw some ball lightening.Her children swore a lot and she fought with her husband and got angry when her son Robin threw toys out the window into the snow.Another neighbour,David was a bully.There were a lot of bullies about but I don't remember most of them.Father McKee was my hockey coach.The bullies would be mean to Robin,the "retarded"boy,but many kids were nice to him too.Dana was a gunsmith.My father was best man at his wedding.Anthony liked guns too.He was french and maybe even part Indian,though people never said so.My father brought people home from work for a meal sometimes.Sometimes even hitch hikers.One of them stole his car and abducted my sister once.Susan got a bad head injury the year before I met her.Her family owns a hardware store.The Harris family moved into Karen's old house.Their son Dick fixed furnaces.An art teacher once kicked me out of class and,to this day I don't know why.Ted was a friend of my father and he could fly planes.We went up for a spin with him one time.I met a couple of Rabbis once in Montreal.They asked me if I believed in God.My father bought a red trailer from an old French couple when I was small.The old woman spoke no English,but gave us some cookies.Mrs.Banting died when I was in grade one.Mr.Baxter was my teacher in grade two,then Mrs.Cale in grade three.She was tall and wore an enormous bee hive.In grade six my teacher was Mrs.West.She was fierce,but I liked her.Mr.Cohen was my seventh grade teacher and he was a bit of a buffoon.He gave me a hard time when I missed a day for my grandfathers funeral.In grade eight I had a notorious teacher.Malcom Ross.Thats the same year the pervert started hanging around.And the policemen were killed,and their killers sentenced to die,then had their sentences commuted.Then a little girl named Michelle disappeared and was never seen again.Everyone thought we were going to Hell in a hand basket.I searched for her with a man named Ray who lived across the street from us.Ray was a brute of a man.Holly was a girl I walked home with sometimes at noon.She was a plain girl who worried about older kids sneaking up behind us and mashing peanut butter sandwiches in our hair.We would play kick the can on the way home.Mrs.Foster worked at the bank with my mother.So did a woman named Rita.She had a beautiful samoyed dog that I liked to go play with.There was an old man who delivered milk in an old,old green truck.Old Charlie ran the Co-op in Fox Harbour.Norman Murray sold cars and my father worked for him for a while.Grandfather Graham was thin and almost stone deaf without his hearing aid.He smoked a pipe,chewed tobacco,and read Western novels and detective magazines.He hardly ever spoke.And there was more than one lunatic that lived on their street.My friend Steven was a Jehovah's Witness.A kind,decent kid but so very different.Never hung out with anyone from school when school was out.And there was a little girl that used to walk past our house on the way to school.When I first saw her my heart skipped a bit.She was wearing pigtails and that was in 1967.And when I last saw her,well,my heart skipped another beat.