Ron Cole : off the map...navigating life.

A' la carte...or Kingdom stories from Al and CARTS

 Jesus looked up then, and seeing the vast multitude that surrounded him and realizing they had traveled a great distance and were tired and hungry, he said to Philip, " Where are we to buy bread, so that all these people will be fed?" Jesus did this to prove, to test...to help Philip discover that mustard seed of faith that births the Kingdom into being.

Philip answered Jesus, " Forty dollars worth of bread is not even enough that everyone will receive more than a handful of crumbs. A few of the other disciples said there was some kid in the crowd with five barley loves and two small fish, hardly even appetizers for a crowd this size.

Jesus said, " make the people sit." The ground was covered 5000, it looked a multicolored carpet, humanity spread out before Jesus. Jesus took the loaves, praying gave thanks, gave it to the disciples and the disciples gave to the crowd. Jesus did the same with the fish. They had as much as they wanted.

When they had all had enough, Jesus asked the disciples to gather up all the broken pieces of fish and bread that were left over, so that nothing was lost or wasted. They returned astonished with twelve baskets of leftovers from 5 loaves, and two fish. ( from the opening of John 6. paraphrased )

   It's fascinating, as I'm writing and processing this at the same time, that Friday night at CARTS is a profound mysterious worship service...it is church with out the building. Someone just this week, I think Alan Hirsch tweeting back and forth said that the churches greatest sin was pouring concrete. He may be right, history and empty buildings will tell the real truth.

Anyways, at CARTS we do have our liturgy, which means, " the work of the people ". Everyone one is engaged in the reality of " Kingdom " worship, it is mysteriously vertical and horizontal...it is the love of God and neighbor.

Before we leave the parking lot behind the Capital 6 theater, we have a circle time...the volunteers, and our friends in the inner city and we join hands. It's not some join hands, we all join hands. There is a real sense of community. Feeling the cold, the roughness, the warmth, the squeeze of a hand; the smile, the sadness, the pain, the tear in a eye on a face...it's human, and we are all connected here in this place, and also to something much bigger.

My dear friend Al usually shares a short musing on the Kingdom, and a prayer before we make our rounds to " Our Place, Centennial Square, Street Link, the Salvation Army and the maze of streets in between. Last evening, Al shared the above story of Jesus feeding the multitude...it has always been one of my favorite.

First of let me say, I'm not a nay-sayer to miracles...I have witnessed them. Jesus could have fed 5000 people with what looked like a snack. If the mere sound of his voice can give rise to all creation, all that exists, then he can feed thousands with nothing much more than a happy meal. But, maybe weaved into the mysterious texture of this story is another miracle.

What would you call it, if you got 5000 people, the majority strangers, maybe from different cultures, different religious backgrounds. Maybe some were friends, maybe some were enemies. It was like a mix of poor, middle class and the rich. Lets call it a snap shot of humanity...in real time.

What would you call it...if you got 5000 people to share to the point where none was in need of more, and there was an abundance left over? What would you call that?

This is the freakin' reality of the Kingdom. When we live in the context of the Kingdom, miracles aren't so much miracles as they are the norm. It's mind blowing yes, because it turns our little worlds upside down. In the midst of Jesus, we all, humanity realizes it's poverty...and I'm not talking just food. We realize how impoverished we are with out the other. We need each other. And we need Jesus.

What must I do to gain eternal life, abundant life...the fullness of the Kingdom of God ; Love God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength...and to love the other. Live this and the Kingdom becomes a reality.

Just a Jesus asked Philip, " where are we to buy bread, for all these people to be fed." We can be overwhelmed by the multitudes, but we can grasp that mustard seed of faith...and Love, Love and Love. Love the other as much as we love God...and out of that share. Sharing not out of our left overs, but out of everything we have. Sharing to the point where humanity, creation is no longer in need. To the point where all are full, and there is an abundant left over. Then we can truly say, the Kingdom has come.

pain, sorrow and suffering...prayers for Michael

I just heard through the community of faith bloggers, that our dear friend Michael Spencer's prognosis in not at all all good. I've never met Michael face to face but am an ardent reader of his blog, and a listener of his podcasts...it is through those spaces we've communicated. But this recent news, although may have been imminent, it is still tragic and shocking. For me it has opened past wounds, and touched fragile nerve endings.

I have always struggled with pain and suffering, the thought that God is always with you in the midst of it. The words, " he will never leave you or fore sake you ", that we toss in the direction of those whose world lays in rubble around their feet.

I think there are times on the grand stage of life, when a crisis of pain and suffering happen and the director/producer seem to have left the scene. The camera is left running. There is no one to explain what just happened, why it happened...or how the rest of the story will evolve. It's a freeze frame moment. You are stunned. Life's breath seems to have been sucked out of you. The hard drive in your head whirls frantically, trying to compute to make sense out of anything. In your free fall, you search for anything to hang on to.

I understand the concept of God being the great " I am ", the beginning, the end and every thing in between. But, there are times, when...you are on stage alone.

The Psalmist muses, All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

What does that mean?

Did God have script already written for me stashed away in the heavenly archives filed under the " R's "?Did he pull it out during that night of lust, on a cold 1952 December night in Whitehorse when Wally and Eleanor were getting down to business? Did God yell, " Action ", and I prepared to enter the stage of life.

Did it unfold as initially written? Or is the script being edited as the act of living my life unfolds?

Can I proclaim with the certitude of the Psalmist, or do I imagine something else?

In the summer of 1996 my youngest brother a diabetic, home alone in his apartment had an insulin reaction that escalated rapidly out of control...he ended up dying, only three feet away from the syringe and insulin that could have saved his life. He would not be found until three days later.

Was this the script that was written by a grand director/ producer, that my brother, a character in this incredible story of life was to unknowingly act out in his brief moment on stage. Did God really write all this out: create character; male; genetic illness, diabetes; triggered into action late 20's; male character dies early 30's three feet from medication that could save him; character exits stage, scene over...over all story continues?

Enter, pain and suffering...my world lay in rubble at my feet. As if hit by the wind of a hurricane, my well constructed faith was scattered debris in all directions. And the director, where was he/she...suddenly the stage, the theater was empty. The lights had been turned out, not even an " exit " light illuminated a path for escape. I was alone...utterly alone.

" I will never leave you or fore sake you ", " all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be" Where was the director, and who would write such a bizarre sick script and expect us to faithfully act it out. For months I tried to digest the above words. They only added to my pain and suffering, they tormented me. I had so many questions. I wept, I screamed into the depth of the darkness that seemed to be swallowing me. I heard nothing...nothing, not even a whisper.

It seemed the only person I could relate to was Job. If the script I was living out was shit, Job's script was absolutely insane. Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, they got worse. And Job had questions. If there was a script, he wanted answers...why!!!

But what pissed me off was, Job did finally get to question God. But in an even more bizarre twist, Job's why questions were thrown back to him with more questions from God. So in the end, did Job fair better than me? Sure he was restored, life returned to normal...even better than normal, but there really was no answer to his pain and suffering. About the only thing Job could say with certitude was God is God. That some how he is the beginning, the end and everything in between. But as to how it all works, how the script comes into play...the actors, the scenes, pain, tragedy and suffering...still so many questions.

For months, I embraced my pain, suffering, sorrow. It was breakfast, lunch and dinner. I lived in the midst of an emotional storm of anger. I came to realize my well constructed faith is fragile, something to be held lightly, and that in pain, sorrow and loss it sometimes breaks. In the end, I pick up pieces, not all the pieces...and I learn to live with new faith.

I believe there are times when we are alone. I believe there is a script to my life, but that it is a script of such imagination that I will never understand it...at least not here, on the stage in which I act out my part.

Pain, suffering and sorrow, are they pre-written into the intimate scripts of our lives? I don't think so. But they are a reality of everyday life. They torment us, and haunt us with never ending questions that we very seldom find answers to. They test faith, reconfigure, and reconstruct faith. And in the end, we likely find like Job did...God is truly God, miraculously he is the beginning, and the end...and everything in between.

I think we find God in the midst of friends, family who hold us, love us, hug us, and cry with us. They some how lift us carry us when we are too weak to even move. It is the hands, the face, the words of the God who is love coming into being. Mysteriously it is Emmanuel...God with us, in the midst of pain suffering and sorrow.

Michael, Denise family and friends...know that you are surrounded in a cloud of prayers of friends close and distant. May you feel the profound presence of Jesus, may you feel his comfort, and peace.

When my road leads into dark storms,
You will light up my eyesight.
When I fall on hard ground,
You will lift me up to rise.

When I face hardship and scorn,
We will together share our portion.
When I suffer in a hopeless sickbed,
We will together battle in each breath.

When I'm lost alone and lingering,
You will be with me, and guide me home.
One day I'll die and depart,
But I truly believe
You will lift me up.

O God, our Savior, listen to our prayer.
Fill our hunger, heal our sickness,
Comfort our souls.
If you wish not to answer,
Then please wait for us,
Because we are about to shut our eyes.

(unknown)

I just heard through the community of faith bloggers, that our dear friend Michael Spencer's prognosis in not at all all good. I've never met Michael face to face but am an ardent reader of his blog, and a listener of his podcasts...it is through those spaces we've communicated. But this recent news, although may have been imminent, it is still tragic and shocking. For me it has opened past wounds, and touched fragile nerve endings.

I have always struggled with pain and suffering, the thought that God is always with you in the midst of it. The words, " he will never leave you or fore sake you ", that we toss in the direction of those whose world lays in rubble around their feet.

I think there are times on the grand stage of life, when a crisis of pain and suffering happen and the director/producer seem to have left the scene. The camera is left running. There is no one to explain what just happened, why it happened...or how the rest of the story will evolve. It's a freeze frame moment. You are stunned. Life's breath seems to have been sucked out of you. The hard drive in your head whirls frantically, trying to compute to make sense out of anything. In your free fall, you search for anything to hang on to.

I understand the concept of God being the great " I am ", the beginning, the end and every thing in between. But, there are times, when...you are on stage alone.

The Psalmist muses, All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

What does that mean?

Did God have script already written for me stashed away in the heavenly archives filed under the " R's "?Did he pull it out during that night of lust, on a cold 1952 December night in Whitehorse when Wally and Eleanor were getting down to business? Did God yell, " Action ", and I prepared to enter the stage of life.

Did it unfold as initially written? Or is the script being edited as the act of living my life unfolds?

Can I proclaim with the certitude of the Psalmist, or do I imagine something else?

In the summer of 1996 my youngest brother a diabetic, home alone in his apartment had an insulin reaction that escalated rapidly out of control...he ended up dying, only three feet away from the syringe and insulin that could have saved his life. He would not be found until three days later.

Was this the script that was written by a grand director/ producer, that my brother, a character in this incredible story of life was to unknowingly act out in his brief moment on stage. Did God really write all this out: create character; male; genetic illness, diabetes; triggered into action late 20's; male character dies early 30's three feet from medication that could save him; character exits stage, scene over...over all story continues?

Enter, pain and suffering...my world lay in rubble at my feet. As if hit by the wind of a hurricane, my well constructed faith was scattered debris in all directions. And the director, where was he/she...suddenly the stage, the theater was empty. The lights had been turned out, not even an " exit " light illuminated a path for escape. I was alone...utterly alone.

" I will never leave you or fore sake you ", " all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be" Where was the director, and who would write such a bizarre sick script and expect us to faithfully act it out. For months I tried to digest the above words. They only added to my pain and suffering, they tormented me. I had so many questions. I wept, I screamed into the depth of the darkness that seemed to be swallowing me. I heard nothing...nothing, not even a whisper.

It seemed the only person I could relate to was Job. If the script I was living out was shit, Job's script was absolutely insane. Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, they got worse. And Job had questions. If there was a script, he wanted answers...why!!!

But what pissed me off was, Job did finally get to question God. But in an even more bizarre twist, Job's why questions were thrown back to him with more questions from God. So in the end, did Job fair better than me? Sure he was restored, life returned to normal...even better than normal, but there really was no answer to his pain and suffering. About the only thing Job could say with certitude was God is God. That some how he is the beginning, the end and everything in between. But as to how it all works, how the script comes into play...the actors, the scenes, pain, tragedy and suffering...still so many questions.

For months, I embraced my pain, suffering, sorrow. It was breakfast, lunch and dinner. I lived in the midst of an emotional storm of anger. I came to realize my well constructed faith is fragile, something to be held lightly, and that in pain, sorrow and loss it sometimes breaks. In the end, I pick up pieces, not all the pieces...and I learn to live with new faith.

I believe there are times when we are alone. I believe there is a script to my life, but that it is a script of such imagination that I will never understand it...at least not here, on the stage in which I act out my part.

Pain, suffering and sorrow, are they pre-written into the intimate scripts of our lives? I don't think so. But they are a reality of everyday life. They torment us, and haunt us with never ending questions that we very seldom find answers to. They test faith, reconfigure, and reconstruct faith. And in the end, we likely find like Job did...God is truly God, miraculously he is the beginning, and the end...and everything in between.

I think we find God in the midst of friends, family who hold us, love us, hug us, and cry with us. They some how lift us carry us when we are too weak to even move. It is the hands, the face, the words of the God who is love coming into being. Mysteriously it is Emmanuel...God with us, in the midst of pain suffering and sorrow.

Michael, Denise family and friends...know that you are surrounded in a cloud of prayers of friends close and distant. May you feel the profound presence of Jesus, may you feel his comfort, and peace.

When my road leads into dark storms,
You will light up my eyesight.
When I fall on hard ground,
You will lift me up to rise.

When I face hardship and scorn,
We will together share our portion.
When I suffer in a hopeless sickbed,
We will together battle in each breath.

When I'm lost alone and lingering,
You will be with me, and guide me home.
One day I'll die and depart,
But I truly believe
You will lift me up.

O God, our Savior, listen to our prayer.
Fill our hunger, heal our sickness,
Comfort our souls.
If you wish not to answer,
Then please wait for us,
Because we are about to shut our eyes.

(unknown)

Haiti...how you can help

As the poorest country in the Western hemisphere, Haiti has the highest rates of mortality for mothers, infants, and children under 5. Sixty percent of the population lacks access to basic health-care services. Most Haitians survive on less than $2 a day and depend on remittances from relatives in other countries to meet their basic needs -- remittances that have plummeted with remittances that have plummeted with the global recession. Even in the capital of Port-au-Prince, impoverished communities have few resources to cope with the acute impacts of this disaster.

With an estimated 3 million people affected by the quake, Haiti is in urgent need of immediate and ongoing assistance. The U.S. government is sending medical and disaster response teams, along with critically needed supplies. Catholic Relief Services has pledged $5 million for immediate relief efforts. World Vision, Oxfam, Lutheran World Relief, and many of our other partner organizations are preparing to meet the needs of all those displaced and wounded.

To support the work of these organizations and learn more about their programs, please visit:( here )

Prisons...a missional adventure @ Mission

Gone ( HERE ) for the weekend, I'll see you Monday. Enjoy your weekend, shine some light.

Come to Our Shut Down Places

I'm going out to the Pauquachin community to work with Rick Wismer, so I pray the following words...for the young people in the Pauquachin band that feel shut down...for myself feeling shut down because of fear, that I'm in over my head, a fish out of water. I surrender everything to Jesus, that I would just empty myself of everything, and be filled by everything that is Him...that I would be nothing more than a humble servant.

It does not come easy to us to imagine that You
closed the womb of mother Hannah
and thereby foreclosed the future for a time.

And yet, we can name in your presence
a myriad of shut down places around us…
those shut down in poverty and despair,
those shut down in fear and in rage,
those shut down by abuse and violence,
too hurt to speak,
too frightened to appear,
too scarred to dance.

And closer, our own shut downs:
in anxiety, in resentment, in pretense,
too weary to care,
too weary to share,
too much of us for neighbor.
These are all your doing, we confess.

But you are the God who opens all shut downs:
by your power, you give futures,
by your goodness, you give hope,
by your mercy, you make new.

So we bid you this day come to our shut down places
and give birth anew.
We pray through the Easter opening of the Friday shut-downs.
Amen.

- Bruggeman, p.119, Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth