150 We must talk about suicide

It was a particularly rough spot in my life. Not that life had every really been that enjoyable. This time was more severe. Thoughts of ending my life were obsessive. If ever you have had intrusive thoughts that came when you did not want them, you will understand what it was like. It was like being infatuated, but with killing myself.

          It was like I was possessed.

I did not want to die, but the obsession was convincing me that this would be the best. I knew that my family and friends would be devastated. I also knew that in time they would heal. Slowly, I started to make a plan. Memories of that darkest time still make me cringe in fear.

          Although I identify myself as an addict and alcoholic, that was all in the efforts of managing a life that was tinted with the darkness of depression. Thoughts of suicide were daily occurrences for me.

          For whatever reason, I was able to reach out and get help. At that time I really did not know about depression. Though life has had its dark times for me since then, none have been as dark as that time.

This week there have been two notable suicides: Kate Spade, and Anthony Bourdain. Although both people, from the outside, appeared to have charmed lives, it was the death of Anthony that hit home. His is the life I would want; travelling the world and eating.

          I have talked before that depression turns the conversation of whether the glass is half-full to, the glass is half empty, it probably tastes like shit, and the glass is dirty. Depression adds another thought, it doesn’t matter if I even drink it, for I will get thirsty again.

At the time of my obsession with killing myself I was an active member in a twelve step program. To admit that I was intending on ending my own life would be to admit that I was not working a very spiritual program of recovery. Sort of like standing up in church and telling those around you that you wanted to kill yourself might lead those around you to question your faith and your confidence in God.

          We have to start talking about mood disorders, mental health, and suicide. We have to understand that we are works in progress.  Even Paul, who for many exemplifies faith, talked of having a ‘thorn in his side’ and not achieving perfection.

Hebrews 5:7 During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission.

Regardless of how strong our faith might be, we are not exempt from the trials and tribulations of life. In fact, just the opposite. As I see it, compassion is the foundation of our faith. We are called to join with the suffering of others. To remain unaffected would reflect a shallow compassion.

          Currently, the congregation I am a part of is experiencing hardships. Some of those hardships are simply the fabric of life. Others are experiencing tragedies that are unjust. While we come together to celebrate our faith, we also come together to support and care for each other.

          We must move past the superficial, “how are you?”, “I am fine, yourself?” Let us be aware that each of us will have times of struggle. I urge you to share your struggle with each other, not only will doing so allow others to join with you, it gives permission to the other person to share their own.

          We must move away from the idea that faith is about being perfect. It is not. In fact, faith can make some of our struggles less than tolerable.

          We must stop beating each other with verses meant to comfort. The admonition of “do not be anxious in anything’ was not a command, but an encouragement.

          We must stop presenting an imaginary standard of what faith should look like. When we consider what our Lord was like, it was not a one dimension expression.

          We must also share our victories with each other. To encourage each other.

Thank you for letting me share.

149. Disposable People

CAUTION: If you are involved in an intimate relationship with someone who is a threat to your safety; emotionally, physically, or spiritually; get out. This posting is not intended to convince people to remain in relationships where they are exploited or abused.

There has been a trend on social media that I have noticed. It probably is not new, but it is concerning. This is the idea of ridding yourself of toxic people. The idea is that toxic people drain the life force out of us, and by getting rid of them, we free up time and energy. I wonder how many people have deemed me toxic and have decided to dispose of me.

          There are a few problems with this approach. Even more so if you claim to follow Christ. First, toxic is so loosely defined that almost anyone can be considered toxic. Mostly I suspect that those deemed as toxic simply annoy the person. Second, we are ALL toxic. If this concept was followed through to its logical conclusion, we would all be segregated and isolated.

          If you have been called to Christ, then loving your neighbour is part of the package. Our neighbour is defined by Christ for us in the parable of the Good Samaritan. Of note in his answer as to who is our neighbour; the Samaritan was a despised person. I would imagine there would be people that would consider him toxic. It is not up to us to decide who we are called to minister.

          More importantly, the judging others as toxic, and disposing of said people, actually makes what is wrong with us as a culture worse. In these days of divisiveness, particularly within the realm of politics, being contemptuous of each other has increased the distance between people. We need to learn how to honour each other in our differences.

          This divisiveness has come within the body of Christ. I bump up against it everyday. My faith as well as my politics, is defined by the compassion that I am called to live in. The use of terns developed in 18^th Century France strikes me as being a bit awkward. (The entire Right Wing – Left Wing is outdated.) So much of what we deal with requires more than simple answers, and require further thought than right or wrong. To dismiss me, is to risk dismissing God. The same holds true for those I disagree with, regardless of how vehemently I do so.

          It is particularly within the church that I see the need for this ability to be reconciled to the differences of others as being the most important. Lest we forget, we are called to be the salt and light of the word. We are called to add value to the world around us, which includes those people who annoy us. We are also called to be light, to show the way. There is little room to engage in the self-indulgence of ridding ourselves of people.

          Lately, I have seen that intolerance undermine our faith, denigrate God, and obscure his glory. Mostly, it is for the wrong reasons. Those reasons rarely, if ever, are Godly in nature.

          We are told that there are those that we should have nothing to do with at all. Those who, “have a form of Godliness, but deny its power.” (2 Tim 3:5) We all know those who might be defined as such. I have met them, and while I have shunned some, I am more inclined to watch them from a distance.

There are two reasons why I am leery of this worldly approach to others. First, often those who are the despised ones are the very same that are valued in heaven. Secondly, we are called to be a healing presence in the world. To rid ourselves of those we deem as toxic may exclude the person from the only gospel that they may know. I hope it does not surprise you that we are the gospel to others.

          I am not calling on people to agree with people when you don’t. I am calling on people to not call out doctrines and attitudes that are harmful. I am calling on the people of God to address each other with the respect that we deserve. This is not easy to do. Some of the statements by others go against the grain of what I believe to the point where being vulgar is a temptation. I am calling on us, to treat each other with the dignity that is inherent in each of us.

Thank you for letting me ramble.

148. An Act of Terror

This week we have had a mass killing in Toronto. In the evening following the attack a friend and I chatted about how the killings would be portrayed. I made the comment that if the killer is white, then it will be a mental health issue, if he was a person of colour then it would be terrorism. So, as it turns out the man who used a vehicle as a weapon to kill mostly women, was white. As expected the discussion surrounding the man has not included terrorism.

It was terrorism.

The killer acknowledged and honoured a man who in 2014 conducted a rampage that killed six and injured fourteen. While the honoured man killed women and men, his rage was at women. The driver of the van identified himself as Incel – Involuntary Celibate – this has become a term that men loosely gather around. If we were talking any other specific ideology we would be using the term terrorism. The gathering is as organized as any other extremist group that we identify. Incels, are misogynistic and promote rape culture. I would hazard a guess that it is mostly white men who feel entitled that identify as Incel.

I have provided a link below for your own research:

http://www.bodyforwife.com/incels-are-a-hate-group-promoting-rape-and-murder/

Why do I call it an act of terror? Simply put, I believe the actions of the man was intended to strike fear in the core of every woman. He apparently targeted woman in this rampage. He identified one mass killer as a hero, and no doubt emulated him. And unlike the shootings on Parliament Hill in 2014, this attack actually seemed planned.

I write this for a number of reasons. We Christians who enjoy being righteously indignant at the sins of the world must not remain silent about this event, this group, and rape culture. In particular, I am calling on my brothers in Christ, to speak out against such violence. As always, I urge you to have the conversation with your sons, their friends, your friends, and others, that rape culture is our issue. We must stand against it.

Collectively, we must consider that when any woman is in fear of being assaulted by a man, that we have failed. We must acknowledge that we are losing in the efforts to end a culture that promotes rape and other forms of violence against women. Recently, in conversation with a friend of mine, she acknowledged that there is the expectation on dates that women ‘put out.’ We have failed.

Further, we also must not allow the discussion regarding the killing of ten and injuring of fourteen in Toronto become a discussion about mental health. While I am an advocate for mental health services, this is different. This was calculated, this was thought out, this was terror. To allow this conversation to drift into the ‘mental health’ dialogue excuses the man’s actions, does a disservice to those managing mental illnesses, and legitimizes the violence visited upon women.

We have allowed the killings at École Polytechnique in 1989 to remain as a mental health issue. Again, that was a deliberate, planned assault on women. An act of terror. Yet, with the exception of a few articles, it is not acknowledged as such.

While Toronto should be in our thoughts and prayers, those are really not enough. I do urge you to pray that those who are grieving find the comfort and peace of God. But those prayers are meaningless, unless we take action. So once again, the talking points regarding rape culture:

1. Women deserve the agency over their own bodies to be honoured.

2. Rape, and the associated violence is not about sex.

3. Rape, and the associated violence stems from the sense of entitlement by men.

4. Ultimately, rape and the associated violence is aimed at subjugating women.

147. I am THAT racist

When ‘Dances with Wolves’ came out, I was not one of the huge fans of the movie. Yes, it was a great story. It had great cinematography, though it would be hard not to on the prairies. I liked that the movie had First Nations actors in First Nations rolls. But essentially the message was one I could not stand. Everyone, at least White, who saw the movie identified with Capt. John Dunbar. We were in fact the Calvary come, not to save the day, but to destroy a culture.

          There is great injustice on the prairies again. This time, real life. A young man, fucking around like I did when I was his age, is shot and killed. Yes, he may have been up to no good. But in Canada we do not execute people for essentially being drunk and disorderly. I will not go into the details of the case, as this post is not about the case itself; it is about the fallout afterward.

          There has been a great outcry for the clearly racist themes through the case. There are those who seek to justify the senseless killing of a young man. But most of us, are lining up to denounce the actions of the person responsible for the death, the actions of the RCMP, and a court system that is inherently flawed and biased against First Nations people.

          I see people positioning themselves that they are not racist, and that those in charge, our politicians, need to change the system. It is clear that systemic changes need to occur. The incarceration of indigenous people in Saskatchewan is disproportionate to their population.

          Yes, we, all of us, need to exert pressure that these changes happen within the approach of our law enforcement community, and within the legal system. Protests, vigils, petitions and the like are called for to push for these changes. It is going to take more than an angry Facebook post.

But like the movie ‘Dances with Wolves’ we need to stop externalizing the problem. The hard truth is that we, I, am responsible for the values within our community. Especially, as I am called to be the salt and light to those around me. I need to take responsibility for the values that are expressed within my neighbourhood.

          I live in what appears to be an ethnically diverse community. By community I am referring to North Delta. There are those of various ethnicities that live around me. They are there through the struggles they have endured to make their own space. Yet, my house is less than ten miles from the Tsawwassen First Nation. There are not many, if any, indigenous people in my neighbourhood.

          The uncomfortable truth, is that it is far too easy to distance myself from the man that pulled the trigger. It is far too easy for me to say, that is not me. Like the movie, it is far too tempting to identify with whatever heroes there maybe, when in fact, I am the villain. I am THAT racist.

          If my sole solution is to post this, hit like a few times, and copy and paste; I am part of the problem. There are other issues that I feel passionate about. In this case, I need to take the time, and write letters to MPs, MLAs, and others. Maybe I need to take time from scrolling through Facebook.

          But even then, the challenge in this situation is to take time and examine HOW I am racist. If I am serious about change, the change needs to begin with me.

His name was Colten Boushie, he was 22.

         

         

146. A Gentler Path

As with all things, good, bad, ugly, disturbing, or even common place, if one seeks the face of God, they will find it. At least that is my experience.

It has been a while since I have posted. The past few months, have been a struggle. On Nov 14^th of last year I was given thirty days notice that my contracts were being cancelled. It was probably the only outcome that was plausible. As there was no cause cited to cancel the contracts, the decision seemed to be very personal, and very vindictive. As more than a few of my friends have said, I am too provocative for my own good. I have pissed people off, and I know whom have taken exception to me.

          In my less than graceful moments, I think of these men, and one woman, as a waste of skin, a blight against humanity, and similar thoughts. I do try to not be too vulgar in these postings. While this decision has caused significant struggles, it has not been without its blessings. There is less stress as what seemed inevitable is now done. Wanna has her husband back. And I have a means of income.

          To become bitter about this has been such a temptation. In my search for the face of God, her grace in my life, I have been resentful about God (she wants me to forgive them), about the assholes who have done this, and those bastards that have allowed it to happen. I have fantasies about confronting them, about reeking vengeance in their lives, and getting even. 

          I have thought about what I am called to do as being called to a higher standard. You know that crap about taking the morally higher road. There is more than a small part of me that wants to wallow in the muck and filth of resentment.

As I started up the crap of thinking about how awful these people are, the impulse to forgive came again. For all my brilliance, I can be a stupid man. Then, as she so often does, God spoke with that random thought which seems to come out of nowhere. I am keeping myself involved in a struggle, in a relationship, with these assholes. Then, the pointed question. Why the fuck would I want to invite them into my life like that?

Forgiveness, that impulse I have resisted, is the only way out. My reasons for not doing so, my reasons for continuing to engage in the hatred of these people, are bullshit. Yes, something calls to be done about this abuse of power. But, that is not my calling. At least not now. Perhaps it never will be.

My task, these days, as unpleasant at it may seem, is to deal with the consequences of this development. My desire to not forgive, to be bitter, only serves to make it that much more daunting. My task is to grieve the loss. That can only be if I stop the foolishness of keeping the relationship with these assholes going in my head.

As I write this now, I have sense that it is not a morally higher ground that I am called to walk. It is a gentler path for me.