Observer Articles

Pastor Fred Redekop writes a monthly article that appears in the ObserverXtra.

A bombing in Istanbul

There was a bombing in Istanbul, Turkey today (Tuesday, June 7). It killed 11 people and injured 36. My son Caleb and I are on a tour, and we are here in Istanbul. We are safe and fine. The bombing was near the Old City, where we are spending most of our time for these two days. In recent months there have been two other bombings in the city, and we passed by both of those places yesterday. We were not gawking, but they are places I have gone before in my travels. They are both public spaces.

 

The bombing was the work of Kurdish terrorists, and was aimed at the police and the government, but some civilians were also killed. Our tour guide did not tell us until the end of our day. I think she rearranged the day, and took us on a boat cruise in the morning to keep us safe. Maybe she was trying to calm herself as well. One of the earlier bombings has really shaken her. The bombing last fall targeted tourists. This was the first time. Others are directed at the military or police or government people, and never tourists. Since that attack, tourism has dropped by 75-90 percent.

 

But she, our guide, does not live in fear. And the people of Turkey go about their work and lives. Life is an inherently dangerous experience. I went out last evening to do some shopping, and the Turkish people were out in the shopping district, buying things and eating at restaurants. They are determined not to live in fear, and not to give into the terrorists.

 

The first evening we were here, was the beginning of the Muslim festival of Ramadan. For a little over a month every year, Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset. It is one of the five acts of devotion to God that Muslims are required to do during their lifetimes. In the major city square called Taksim, near our hotel, they have set up tables for hundreds of people to “break the fast“ in the evening. The food comes in boxes, and at exactly sundown, prayers are offered to God, and the people eat together.

 

So, what did the people do today, after the bombing, on the second day of Ramadan? They did the same thing as the night before. They prayed, and they ate together. They will not give into terrorism. Their devotion to God and to their community was evident in powerful ways this evening.

 

I am not fearful for our tour events for tomorrow. The odds of me being in car accident on the way to the airport (on the 401) for the tour, are much higher than being killed by a terrorist attack. But it is not about the odds for me. It is trying to live for God in every moment that I have here on this earth. How will the Turkish people respond to the violence? They will continue to love each other, and love their country.

 

So, pray for the Turkish people. Pray for peace. Pray for Gocken Art, our tour guide, and her family as they continue to live and work here in Istanbul. Pray for the terrorists, so that they might have a change of heart and minds.

 

I had asked my Monday morning breakfast group if I should travel to Turkey, knowing that there have been a few bombings here recent months. I will let them speak for themselves. In the Bible, there are 365 times that writers say, “Do not be afraid! “That is the way that I want to live, and the way that the Turkish people do live. Pray for peace. AMEN.

Observer Xtra

I am leaving…in faith.

I am leaving my position as pastor at Floradale Mennonite Church at the end of August. I will have been the pastor at the church for 25 years. The church has been a wonderful place to live out my calling/vocation as a pastor. It has been a wonderful spot to raise our four children. Both the church and the community that we have lived in, have been amazing.

But, it is time for me to leave. I still love the place, and the people who make up the congregation. The congregation has prayed for me, and taken good care of me. They have allowed me to pray with them, love them, and be part of them for a quarter of a century. They have forgiven me when I have made mistakes. I have had the privilege to preach alongside of them. They have listened to me, over a thousand times. They have allowed me to study and reflect upon the Bible on a weekly basis, and they paid me to do it. That is one of the greatest gifts that they have given to me.

But, it is time for me to leave. In our time together, we have said goodbye to many of the saints of the area. We have grieved together over these many years. There have been many stories to tell, both sad and happy, as we have walked the journey of death and life. When I arrived at the Floradale Church, I had to announce the death of a member on my first Sunday. This is part of my work that I find the most sacred.

But, it is time for me to leave. Being a pastor is hard work. At the end of each day, my work is never finished. I could have preached a better sermon, or I could have listened more compassionately to someone’s story. I should have written a better article for the Observer. In my understanding of the work of a pastor I am trying to please/work well with the church that has called me, and also do the work of God. It is difficult to do both, and what does it mean to do both?  What is God, and what is humanity? This kind of thinking is all internal for me, and I struggle everyday with this calling to be pastor.

But, it is time for me to leave. The church has given me great ways to grow as a Christian and as a pastor. Three times, yes three times, they have given me a sabbatical. It has given me time off to explore the world, travel and be with my family, and nurture my soul. They have seen the sabbaticals as a way to benefit my skills, and it is a benefit to them if I have become a better pastor. It is a win/win situation that I am very grateful to have experienced.

But, it is time for me leave. I have begun to notice that I was getting comfortable as pastor. Being comfortable is something we all strive for, and for the church and pastor to be comfortable together is a great thing. We have worked well together for 25 years. We worked through a building project. We worked at new visions for the church. We have had many staff and leadership changes over the years. And we have thrived together. It has been a great run. I love the place.

But, it is time for me to leave. I am leaving the position for my faith too. I have not had to decide what to do for 25 years, so it is a large step of faith to leave this position, and not have anything in place. My Jesuit spiritual director told me that “now Fred, you’re stepping out in true faith.“ That is good, and scary.

I love this place. Allan Doyle writes a song with the following line, “I don’t know where I’m going, but I know where I belong.”  Blessings always.

Observer extra

Why me God….why Me?

I am amazed that I was born in Canada. It has always been such a safe place for me to live. Yesterday, Shirley and I worked on our grass, flower beds and trees in our yard. For lunch, we made tomato sandwiches, and sat on our front porch, and watched all the birds fly all over the place. I never thought once that I should think about dangers that might come upon me. I did not think about hunger, war, drought or corruption by government. I live a really blessed life, and am free from daily struggles to survive.

For sure, I will die of some disease or by accident, but this is true of everybody that lives in this world. And I know all about disease and health problems. But, why am I so blessed to have been born and grown up in Canada? A few years ago, our church sponsored a refugee family from Iraq. They had been living in a camp on the border of Iraq/Syria. Canada and the Mennonite Church heard about their situation, and decided that we must sponsor as many of these families as possible. One elderly lady (not sponsored by our church) said to our group, that she had never lived a life other than that of a refugee. She was born in occupied Palestine with no legal status. Their family went to Jordan, where they had no passports. A few years later, they had to flee to Iraq where they lived well, but had no legal papers there. When Saddam Hussein was deposed, as Palestinians, they were targeted, and so they left and fled through the desert to Syria. When this woman finally arrived in Canada, she and her family were given “landed immigrant“ status, she could finally call someplace, home. A whole lifetime of not feeling like you could settle down and sleep well.

Is my being born in Ontario, Canada, a random act of kindness by God? If my great-great grandparents would have decided to stay in Prussia (Poland) and not gone to the Ukraine, I would not be here? And if my grandfather would not have been killed in 1926, and my father had not become a wanderer, and showed up on my uncle’s farm one day in 1946, where would I be? My mom was working at that farm in Ontario. Random? Or was it all planned by God without my knowledge or input? Must I just accept my life, and get on with it? But, if I did not have free will in my being born here on this earth, why would I think I have any free will now?

These are not new questions. Job asks them in the Old Testament. Jeremiah, a social activist also from the Old Testament, asks why was he born, if he has to suffer. He was the voice of God to the Israelite nation, and he gets persecuted for it. How is that fair for him? The writer of the Psalm 88 laments his life. We do not know what happened to him, but he is very angry at God. It is really nice to have this kind of Psalm in the Bible. The Bible is real people writing about real stuff.

At a recent Mennonite Central Committee fundraising meal, a young girl from Iraq told us her story as a refugee. She told us that we have been fortunate to be born in Canada. She did not deserve the refugee experience that that she and her family has to live through. And why do people give her a hard time? I do not know what to do with her words. I will continue to work at peace and justice as a response to and from God. But, I do it from the comfort of my nice front porch. It is not fair. Why me? …. “for now I only know in part” is my response, it is a feeble one, I know. AMEN.

Why I Read the New Yorker

I am a person of the Book. I am a Christian, so my guide to faith and life is the Bible. It is a book made up of 66 different kinds of documents. There are laws, there are stories, and there is an awful lot of poetry. It was written over the course 3000 years, and the last parts of it that we have was written about 2000 years ago. So, because it was written so long ago, I find it difficult to understand. The culture was different, the economics was simple, and the two languages that it was written in, Hebrew and Greek, I do not understand. I am committed to better understanding the Bible every day, but it challenges me every day.

So I read the New Yorker magazine to better understand my faith. The New Yorker is not a Christian publication. The articles in the magazine talk about anything and everything. Their writers write about politics, movies, books, faith, contemporary issues and fiction. The people travel all over the world to try to explain present and past events. And the writing is so good.

I do not know much about Islam and the politics of the Middle East, but articles in the New Yorker have given me insight about what is going on there. These items have helped me look back at the words of Jesus and the prophecy of Isaiah for me to make better sense of today’s world.

I do not agree with everything that is written in the New Yorker, and that is probably true about the Bible as well. I do not understand everything about the Bible, so I how can I agree with it all the time. I am still learning, and still trying to live my own life of integrity and honesty, and Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekial (Old Testament books of prophets) cause me problems. Jesus is my Saviour and Lord, but his words and actions are so challenging that I have trouble reading them.

The New Yorker is the same way for me. When a writer talks about how we humans are destroying our environment and the planet, I do not not want to read it. I know I am part of the problem, and I would rather read something about music. An article about how we treat the poor and disadvantaged often disturbs my own understandings of the way that the world should and does work.

But the real reason I subscribe to the New Yorker is the cartoons. They are the best..They often speak so much truth of male/female relationships that I forget about reading the articles. In a recent edition all the cartoons were about Donald Trump. They even have one cartoonist who often will write about some biblical story as well. Then there are all those cartoons about God waiting at the gates of Heaven ….. The Bible does not have cartoons, so I have to make up those on my own.

A famous theologian, Karl Barth, wrote that we must have a newspaper in one hand and the Bible in the other. So, what are you reading besides the Bible to make sense out the world and salvation? The Woolwich Observer, the Record, The Globe and Mail, Macleans? Alice Munro, John Grisham, Amish/Mennonite fiction, Malcolm Gladwell (a staff writer for the New Yorker)?

And what do you read in the Bible? The words of Genesis, or the Psalms (it is all poetry) or Micah, or Jesus or the apostle Paul. If you want a really wild ride, read the last book of the Bible, Revelation.

And what do you watch on T.V.? Oh wow, that is for another article. Blessings in all your reading as your guides to faith and life.

Fred Redekop
May 11, 2016

Observer

Daniel Berrigan 1921-2016; Rest in Peace

Daniel Berrigan died in New York City this week. I never met Berrigan, but have been influenced by him in the way that I have lived my life as a Christian. Berrigan was a Jesuit priest, who lived a life of non-violence because that is how he understood what Jesus talked about in the Gospels (the biographies that we have in the New Testament). Some people did not like the way that he lived his way of pacifism. He, along with his brother Phil, were confrontational in their living out of their ideas about how to bring about peace to our world. He burned draft cards, and poured napalm onto other military files. At another time, he entered a nuclear weapon facility and smacked the nose cone of the weapon with a hammer. He cared for AIDS patients when his church, the Catholic Church, was at war with gays.

I learned of Berrigan in the 1980’s at the seminary where I attended. There were Christian magazines who talked about his outrageous acts that he carried out on behalf of his peacemaking ideals. He wrote some of his thoughts concerning the Bible, and the actions that he carried out in the name of his Saviour, Jesus Christ. As a Jesuit (a group of Catholic priests interested in justice and peace in the world), he was called to live a different life. I would see his picture in the papers, and would read about him all the time in faith communities. Other Catholics appreciated him, but thought, at times, he went too far. Thomas Merton, a priest concerned about devotion to Christ, and Dorothy Day, a Catholic activist in New York City, thought he was too radical in his techniques. Although they disagreed with him, they all remained good friends. I think that that was a form of peacemaking.

So, what attracted me to Berrigan. He was different from me. He was Catholic, and I was Mennonite. I saw him as very brave, and I understood the Bible the same way as he did, but I could not do what he did for peace in the world. I went to the Pentagon (where the U.S. Department of Defence is located) in 1982, and I thought about doing something that would get me arrested, but I am too much a Mennonite. I was, and am too passive. I did not do what I knew I should do, as a faithful follower of Jesus.

Berrigan did not use these public pacifist events to trumpet himself. It was about being called to be a peacemaker in all aspects of his life. So, he did not become a celebrity to the world, and he became a mentor to me. He remained a priest, a representative of and to God. His opposition to war was never political. He challenged both Democrats and Republicans, and the war industry. His opposition was not just an idea for him, but was rooted in the person of Jesus Christ.

That is what I have always wanted to be “rooted in the person of Jesus Christ.“ Recently, I wrote to the Prime Minister, saying that Canada should not sell those war vehicles to the Saudi Arabian government. I said it would not help in bringing about peace. We can use our money for better purposes. I am not taking a political side, but I believe we must be about life-giving practices and attitudes in the world. Selling weapons to the Saudis, or anyone else, is not the right thing to do. I write to politicians once in awhile. We give money to organizations that work for peace in the world.

But, I am not Daniel Berrigan. I wish, I really wish I could have been more radical in my actions, but it was not my calling. That might be a cop-out in my following of my Saviour. I am thankful to God for Berrigan. Daniel, well done good and faithful servant. AMEN.
Fred Redekop
May 4, 2016

My Life, My Theology and My Church

I am thinking about writing a book. It would be about my life, my theology and the church. I think that this will give me a lot of material. Last week, I attended a Faith and Writing conference where I listened to writers talk about the craft of writing, and then they read from their books. It was an inspiring and challenging time for my spirit and soul. Most of the authors said that you have to be honest about what you are writing about, and that you must be called to do it for yourself.

There is also an aspect about writing about your own life and your beliefs that is self-indulgent. Many of the authors who wrote about themselves, said it is “really not about me”. On some level that is not true. Of course, you want your story to connect to others’ stories as well. As a reader, you want to say after reading a memoir, that I am not the only person that feels this way. But, if you are going to write your own story, it has to be about “you“. If it not about you, no one will want to read it.

Frederick Buechner is a favourite author of mine. I have been reading him for over thirty years. He is an American and I am a Canadian. He was a Congregational Church minister, and I am Mennonite. He has written over thirty books, both fiction and non-fiction, and I have not written any book, only blogs and newspaper articles. He is almost 90 years old, and I am 57 years of age.

So, if I am to write a book, I would like it to be something like Buechner. He seems to write about himself, his belief system, and the church, in all its bigness. In his non-fiction, he blends these three things all of the time. His writing style is direct and simple, and yet profound. He does not write so that you have to have a dictionary next to you. I am most familiar with his memoirs and sermons, and his novels. I think I have a similar style.

So, where would I begin my book. Maybe I would start with my last sermon, preached on April 10, and tell my life story backwards. I could write about how I have changed my views, in reverse. Or, I could start with my heart attack on November 26, 2007, or my wedding on July 24, 1982. Maybe I should start with my epiphany, in grade 4 Sunday School, that I wanted to be a minister. There was also that summer season of softball, where our team had one win and 23 losses. Another set of memories that is seared in my brain, is the three years that we spent in Thailand working with Indochinese refugees. I saw a man set himself on fire.

My theology began with an angry and judgmental God. I believe more in a God of mercy and compassion, and grace. I began with the Bible as being from heaven, but now I believe the Bible begins with human writers that talk about God, and as we follow it, it becomes divine. I believed the church was perfect, but now I know it is broken and human, because it is made up of broken human beings. And this is fine with me. I thought ministers were good and blessed, but I struggle with the same doubts, fears and anxieties as any other disciple of Jesus Christ.

Where should I start? And should I even start such a self-indulgent exercise? Because it is really about me, my theology and my church. If you would write your story or novel, where would you begin? And why would you want to write it?

I think I will start with Violet Lichty, a former resident of Floradale. She had cats. She had many cats. She had too many cats. I visited her many times at her home, and had coffee and muffins in her kitchen, and the 40 or so cats looked on. She helped save my life…. The story begins.
Fred Redekop
April 20, 2016

observerxtra.com/

Looking for Joy

It has been a long winter. In terms of snow and cold, it has been an easier winter. But, I have experienced the lack of sunshine and the dreary weather with much sadness. The snow would come, and then it would melt, and we would see all that dirty snow. For me, it is never nice to walk or drive in slush. And we have had a lot of slushy days. Then, April comes, and the up and down weather continues to plague us.

How has your soul or mind, or your spirit been through this different kind of winter. When you wake up in the morning, and it is cloudy and raining, just lightly, how does it affect who you are? And, if it does make you cranky and unfriendly, how long does it take for you to recover to your pleasant self? And then, if there are things at your workplace that are stressful, or things are not good at home, it would take even longer to feel good again. It would seen to be a perfect negative emotional storm with the bad weather included. Sometimes, it can be difficult to recover for our body, mind, soul and spirit.

Many people, very gifted persons, can travel these difficult journeys of darkness and depression. The Italian painter, Modigliani (1884-1920), suffered from mental illness and some addictive behaviour, but he was able to paint the human form and faces with such brilliance. He was able to see beyond things that were destroying his life, to paint portraits of people with such grace.

We all know people who struggle with mental health issues, who live lives of hope and grace as well. For some though, it is a daily struggle to make it through the next afternoon or evening. There are no easy answers to find relief from the darkness’s in our lives. We can go to counselling, take medication, exercise and eat better, and still there are parts of our mind and soul that will continue to plague us in our journey of life, and of faith.

The book of Psalms in the Bible has almost all the emotions that I have experienced in my life. Anger, disappointment, joy, laughter (yes it is), tears, questioning God’s presence in the world are all included in this ancient guide to worship of God. The writer is often speaking out in distress and depression about God not showing up when the writer thinks that God should show up. One problem that I have with many of the Psalms of Lament is that there is not much time between when the writer is crying out, and when the writer is celebrating God. Sometimes it happens between two verses in one of the chapters. How long was the time between when the Psalmist cries out “where are you in my deepest distress“ to when he/she writes “Thanks be to God”? For many of us, this kind of movement in our own lives might take years. Or we might find ourselves in Psalm 88 where there is no celebration, at all.

My Mom suffered from mental illness/depression for most of her adult life. I think my Dad also struggled with it in some ways as well, but it was not as severe. I must be aware of my own moods, and times in my life when these thoughts and feelings might overwhelm me. This winter, with its sloppy weather, has been a challenge for me. Life’s stressful times can also lead towards even more challenges with mental illness.

We are all looking for a joyful beginning to break out. A little bit more sunshine would help as we move to summer. A new joy-filled experience with God would be great for my Soul and Spirit. A delightful conversation around all of our struggles, so we might journey together, and a good reading of the emotionally charged Psalms might just be the remedy I need. What do you need?

Fred Redekop
April 13, 2016

March 29, Easter – Now What?

Easter – Now What?

Last Sunday, the Christian church celebrated Easter. It is the story of Jesus of Nazareth rising from the dead. I believe that he was killed because he was a threat to the Roman Emperor. His teachings were dangerous, and called into question the legitimacy of the economic, social, political and military power of the Empire. The arrest and trial were a sham, and with his death, they hoped that followers would quickly disappear.

Was Jesus really a political martyr? Jesus, in my mind, was not a politician. But, his parables were directed at the places of power. As a religious leader, after all I am a pastor of a local congregation, I remind myself that all the parables are directed at me. Sometimes when Jesus tells one of the fictional parables or stories, people want to kill him. I believe I have tamed most the political or economic meaning out of the parables. No one has ever wanted to kill me, or take me out of my office, as a result of my sermons on any of the parables. Jesus’ stories should make us angry, and act in different ways in our lives in order to bring about the Kingdom of God in our world.

We do not need to be political martyrs looking for death to be our ultimate faith statement. Jesus was the Messiah, and he died to make a statement to the world. I believe we need to be faithful to how we understand the teachings and the life and death of Jesus. Jesus told many parables, did many miracles of healing , and even raised a few people from the dead. He ate with sinners, and with people who thought they were better than other people. He named sin when he saw it, but also welcomed everyone to eat around the great banquet. He picked twelve people to teach about what the Kingdom means in the world, but they never really got the message. They argued among themselves about who was the best. They disagreed with some of the things he said, and I see that that is their greatest teaching to us. We can argue with him as well.

Jesus was a complex guy while he lived here on earth. He died young, maybe around 33. There are no recorded words that he wrote down that have survived. The words about him and by him were written down so that we, the next generations, would have reason to believe that he is the Saviour of the World. Most of the words about him, are concerning his life while here on earth. There are only a few stories about him post-resurrection. There is a really funny one about him cooking breakfast after he has been risen from the dead. He has a little campfire on the beach, and he is roasting some fish, and he asks some of his disciples to join him for breakfast (it is in John’s stories about Jesus).

I believe we need to be the resurrection stories for Jesus. We need to tell about how our lives are going. We need to say what we believe. The stories need to be about real stuff, about flesh and blood. For me, Jesus was a real human guy, who dealt with disappointment, pain, suffering, loss of friends and death. It is the same kinds of things that I have had to deal with in my life. The resurrection of Jesus is not about heaven, it is about what has happened here on the earth. It is about the things that Jesus taught while in this space, about our lives, and about caring for others. For me, if the resurrection does not have meaning for the here and now, it is no resurrection at all.

Fred Redekop

http://observerxtra.com/

March 8

I am so Happy to be Alive

It has been over eight years since my life was saved. It has probably been saved many different times, but I do not realize it in the same way, as it happened on November 26, 2007. I had a heart attack at our home in Floradale. My wife did CPR, and the local Floradale fire company did the same, and used the defibrillator, twice. The paramedics did the work they had to do, and brought me to the hospital. Tests were taken to determine that it was a heart attack. It was. For a week, they stabilized me, and took more tests. A triple by-pass was executed, and I arrived home a week later, on December 10, 2007. There were many people who were part of my life being saved, but none of them say that they saved my life. They all say that they did what they were trained to do, and that is all. Something or someone, allowed me to recover, and live until this day. I am happy to be alive.

In the Bible, in the biography about Jesus attributed to John, there is a story of Lazarus. He was a friend of Jesus. He gets sick and dies. Jesus was away, but returns to the family home. He tells Lazarus to come out of the tomb, and he comes out alive, but stinking up the house. Later on in the story, some people are upset at this miracle, and want to kill both Lazarus and Jesus. Why can’t people just be happy about such a miracle.

I am happy to be alive. I do not jump up and down too often, yelling it into the streets that , “I died and am alive again”. This is not my nature, but I am glad all of those people, my wife, the firemen, the nurses, the surgeon, the pharmacists, did what they are trained for, and had a part in the miracle of saving my life.

I have been able to return to my work as pastor. My wife and I have been able to continue to travel. I was given a sabbatical by my church. Three of my children have graduated from university since my heart attack. My son and daughter-in-law have been married, and now I am an “Opa” to our grandson. I have so much to be thankful for, and I am thankful to be alive. I can walk everyday, and I can enjoy all the thing that I did before in my life.

There is a thought that comes into my mind/soul/body sometimes that quietly says to me, if I am listening well, “why me?” I wonder if Lazarus felt this, especially if some people were trying to kill him. No one is try to kill me. People in my life think that it is great that I have been given an opportunity to live a little longer. I am happy to be alive.

When that voice in my head talks to me, I think about what I have been called to do, since I have been saved. I think, sometimes, that I need to do something extraordinary in response to the extraordinary thing that was done for me. I do not think life works that way, but I think it sometimes. What do you think?

I believe that God saved me. I believe that God wants me to be faithful, and not do great things. God wants me to be happy that I am alive and well. God wants me to live out the salvation that he brought through the life and death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I am happy that I am alive to do that. AMEN.
Fred Redekop

http://observerxtra.com/

March 1

NOW I KNOW IN PART

I believe that the the Bible, both the Old and New Testaments, are the word of God. I take it as a guide to my life and faith. But, it does not tell the whole story. There are many stories of faith that can be found between the lines, spaces and sentences of the words have been written down for us.

The creation story in the first book of the Bible, Genesis, is a great poetic piece about what happened at the beginning of time. But, no one was there except God, so how did the writer receive what has been written down? And the story does not talk of planets. It does not talk about all the science we have learned. It has two stories of creation (look it up). There are no words about the gravitational waves that have been just discovered. I love the lyrical nature of the words of Genesis as part of my faith journey, but I am left with the idea that I do not yet know everything.

We are reading through the Bible this year here at Floradale. There is a lot of violence in the stories of Moses, Noah, Jacob and Abraham. The violence is done by men (mostly men) and women. God does a lot of it as well. There is one story in Numbers where this man picked up sticks on Sunday (the sabbath). He is caught, and God orders the people of Israel to stone him to death, and then they actually do stone him to death. Where is the redemption in such a story? I do not get any meaning out of the story. He was picking up sticks. Maybe there is no meaning, but why would God be part of this kind of violence. I am sure that I do not know everything about faith and life quite yet.

Then, there is Psalm 88. The book of Psalms is poetry with God speaking sometimes, and with the writer speaking to God and the people, at other times. And even in the same Psalm. there is a conversation going on. It is great poetry. I think that almost everyone emotion that we can go through in our lives, can be found in the 150 Psalms we have in the Bible. It has been a devotional guide to the Jewish and Christian people for thousands of year. I really like them, but Psalm 88 is a complete downer. In this Psalm, God has left the building. What happened in the life of the writer that he would write such a poem of lament? Oh, wait… I have been there. I have have felt that low, but have come out of it slowly. But… what if I had not. I still do not know everything that there is about life and faith.

Jesus lived here on the earth about 30 years or so. He did his ministry for about three years. There are four books in the Bible that tell Jesus’ life story. They are called Gospels, because the writers want you to believe that Jesus has come as the Saviour of the world. The writers tell some of the same stories, but there some different ones. The one writer, John, says that the books could not contain all the stories if they would all be written down. Wait… why cannot I have access to all the stories about Jesus of Nazareth (that was his hometown)? What is missing in the sentences and spaces, and what and why were some things left out? I still know very little about life and faith.

In First Corinthians 13:9, Paul (the early church leader) writes, “For now I know in part.”. That is my statement of faith on Tuesday March 1, 2016. At least for now…

Fred Redekop

observerxtra.com