Dave's Train of Thoughts

Some More films

2011-01-15T23:06:00.002-05:00

I'd like to see these movies as well. Almost seems like I need to learn new languages in order to appreciate new cinema. I'm up for it.

Laws of Nature, Laws of Grace

2011-01-10T00:30:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I jump to conclusions and predict that a movie watching experience will be transcendent, and that I will come to love the film in question beyond pretty much all others. Preposterous, correct? Well it didn't let me down with Wings of Desire (1987), or The Seventh Seal (1957). They are currently films 1 & 2 on "the list".

Not sure if this one will round out the top three, but Terrence Malick has a shot with The Tree of Life (2011).

A Proud Son

2011-01-05T12:56:00.003-05:00

I loved spending time with family this Christmas. We played games for days, had great conversations, and ate food! It was a special year, as it was the last one where my youngest brother is guaranteed to be around, what with his upcoming nuptials in the near future. I appreciated this time with family because we all seemed to be more intentional with each other. We made time to spend together, and really enjoyed that time (which isn't always the case in every family, including ours).

What was interesting about this Christmas was that I was able to talk with my family about the cross-cultural pieces I have been engaging and learning about on and off campus these past few months. I love my family, and think they are spectacular - though this didn't mean that there weren't conversations that needed to be had around how our family engaged matters of multi-ethnicity and multiculturalism. There were some seemingly innocuous jokes or comments that had made their home in our family over the years that, upon deeper reflection, have been gateways to disrespecting people who are different from us. We were often oblivious because, well, when you are in a place of power and privilege in any given place, it's difficult to see beyond yourself to others - to see how simple fun on one end is hurtful on another end.

So I ended up having some calm, though firm, conversations with my parents and siblings around how we engage other cultures and ethnicities as a family. It was difficult to bring up, but the fruits were worth it. I would say most of my family were keen to talk about it, and open to being shaped and changed for the sake of others. It was a true blessing, because I was afraid that by bringing up the topic, I would be derided as the 'holier-than-thou' member of the family. Not so! People were receptive and willing to explore this large issue. A new journey has begun for us.

So, here is why I am a proud son. A few days after these initial conversations, my Dad and I were out driving together, and decided to grab some food. I saw a sushi restaurant, and asked if Dad would be up for going. He said yes (note: when we go out to eat, it is usually Wendy's, Harvey's, Pizza Pizza, etc., so you can imagine how different this was). So I taught my Dad how to eat sushi and how to use chop sticks. He didn't fare too well at first, and admitted that he felt embarrassed not being able use the chop sticks properly. But he still tried, and said he would practice some more before heading out for sushi again. He liked something new and foreign to him, and is now going to make an effort to enjoy it even more.

This is huge. Change is a pretty massive thing to introduce to a family that has always done things certain ways. My family could have shut this door rather quickly, and brushed me off. But I knew that there was a willingness to explore things, to try something new. I struggle with change, but am growing into someone who tries, and takes interest in, new things. I think, and now know, that my family is growing in that same way too.

I am thankful to God for my family, and the way that following Jesus becomes not so much for our own salvation, but for our family's as well.

Being White - Being Aboriginal

2010-12-14T00:28:00.005-05:00

I've been reading this somewhat interesting book entitled Being White recently, as I explore issues of race, culture, and identity, and what it really means to be white. So much of white identity and culture is assumed and rarely discussed beyond Stuff White People Like's assertion that because of my pigmentation, I inherently love Wes Anderson movies and moleskine journals. (Okay, yes, this is true). Because I am not content in this lacklustre understanding of self, I have been searching and exploring for more depth and meaning. This journey has brought this book into the forefront, and has challenged my view of self, others, displacement, and implicit/overt racism. While the book is definitely written from a Caucasian-American perspective, it dawned on me that issues of ethnicity wrestled with south of the border, often in unnoticed realms to the predominant culture, are quite lively and subversive here as well. A wall of dominoes began to fall for me as I did an exercise of identifying elements that were foundational in my upbringing. From something as simple as hockey.

My family was a hockey family.

We played hockey, followed hockey, watched hockey.

I learned to play hockey when I was seven.

I learned to play hockey when I was seven in a town called Oshweken.

Oshweken is the main city of the Six Nations of the Grand River Reserve.

This is the largest aboriginal reserve in Canada.

I didn't know what Oshweken meant.

I didn't know what nations comprised the Six Nations.

I grew up in Brantford, beside the largest aboriginal reserve in Canada, learned how to play hockey there, and yet still didn't know anything about the peoples, nations, languages, cultures, beliefs.

So. I'm rectifying this.

I'm owning being a White-French-English-Canadian-Christian, and I'm getting to know my neighbours.

Thee Christmas Mix Tape (2010)

2010-12-12T12:10:00.006-05:00

Badgerland Records Presents...

Merry Christmas! If you listen carefully, you'll find Davey Von Stone as he journeys into the far reaches of outer space, with an angelic chorus, helping heal the mechanical heart of a lonely space drone. For real.

I love making Christmas music!

This skin that I am in

2010-12-07T22:42:00.003-05:00

There's a new look to the blog, to reflect the new direction of thought, contemplation, reflection, discovery, and musing. I am a caucasian male, born into this skin, this culture, this time, this identity, and I am attempting to make sense of the multi-ethnic, multi-cultural world that I have been blessed into. I have worn these clothes, listened to this music, appreciated these games, enjoyed these stories, and so on, without being able to fully identify what draws it all together. How would I name myself, if given the chance? What happens when you discover that multi-culturalism is not a culture, and living in a multilingual country means nothing if we don't know what the other person is saying to us?

This is what happens: You discover a place of identity crisis. A place with more questions than answers at this point.

And so, I am endeavouring to figure this thing out, with the aid of the Spirit that leads people into new lands, to new peoples, to new foods, with new languages. To confront and name the lies and unbelief that have been woven for centuries into my archetypal reference. To explore and believe that I was made like this on purpose - of this culture, of this colour - made in his image and likeness; in the image and likeness of God.

As were you.

Helene and Jacob - Efter brylluppet

2010-11-09T18:23:00.004-05:00

I don't need The Social Network to convince me to leave Facebook

2010-10-08T01:32:00.003-04:00

The People's Republic of Gino Reda

2010-09-21T23:03:00.012-04:00

I went on a little trip this summer to help run a Conversational-English Immersion Camp. But not everyone knows that a certain someone also went travelling to far off parts with me. Who would have thought that he was so photogenic while not on "That's Hockey"?

Ladies and Gentleman: Gino Reda.

Outside of the hotel in Beijing, Gino stands guard.

Where is he? Yep, paying respects at the Altar of Heaven

Not content to be inactive in the offseason, Gino decides to climb the Great Wall. In record time. Thus begins the legend of Gino Reda amongst the locals.

My roommate in the camp had a pet turtle that roamed the floor day and night. Gino was not shaken.

Enjoying the hospitality and lodgings of the Grasslands.

In one fateful moment, two symbols of great power stood face to face. Only one could stand, and only one did. On that day, men of all ages began to grow moustaches with all the willpower they could muster.

a sacred spoken word

2010-09-17T00:47:00.004-04:00

Like a newborn child
I am learning a new language,

and breaking in a fresh pallet.
I have spoken it before, though lost my voice;

lost it in my wanderings

and forgot it in my homecomings.

The tongues of messengers

speaking inaudible or unintelligible librettos,

resonate truer to the harmonious kingdom pitch.

These were familiar - now foreign -

to be discovered anew, in belief,

by a fresh faced novice thrust from the monastery.

Oh! In exalted, exclamative, reflection

I discipline the unruly horses of untamed thoughts.

To focus on the divine an hour,

would be to bring my lost belongings home.

"Oh, simplest of prayers be found on my lips continuously."

Welcome Home Run On

2010-09-14T23:59:00.003-04:00

I've been gone for a long time. Feels pretty good to be honest. I'm trying out a new format for the old blog. Curious for comments. The background is the view from my bedroom window at night. It's remarkable really, even though I do not quite enjoy the cement jungle. The new place, around Church and Carlton, is fantastic for hosting students and changes like no other neighbourhood I have ever lived in, depending on the time of day. I said hello to two prostitutes on my walk home last night. Working one minute from my doorstep. Saw another farther down Church St. It's a broken neighbourhood, and it does better hiding it during the day.

First it was Hamilton. Then camp. Then Toronto. Then the one country in the world I never wanted to visit. Now downtown Toronto.

There are so many places that the Spirit has invited me to go to, and never in my old life's wildest dreams did I want or think to go there. There was no desire. But I did, and I found life. My heart changed and I saw resurrection.

So now, in this moment, this is my calling's destination. This is my new home.

Final Post Until September

2010-07-23T15:06:00.005-04:00

In less than 24 hours I will be leaving this great continent for another, and will most likely not have internet access for the next month or so. That being said, this is my last post for a while. Here are some things I've thought to share:

-I flew to Vancouver six years ago, and only saw it briefly. It was good. This time around I have settled in for two and a half weeks. I think it is safe to say that I have become enamoured with the place. It will be hard to leave.

-Climbing mountains, hiking trails, and going running, are not a part of my regular Ontario routine. I am wishing that could change.

-The summertime is the perfect time for enjoying buskers.

-I finally, after years of false starts, have the beginnings of a novel going. And I am confident that though it will be a labour of love over the next few years, I will have something of substance to share with friends, family, and the like.

-INCEPTION!!!! I counted six levels.

-Extroverts need Introverts, and Introverts need Extroverts.

-Though I currently don't have a home to return to in Toronto yet, this does not bother me. I actually have a lot of peace about it, and full faith in God and my community.

-If you visit Vancouver, go to Gene (which is a small coffee shop) at Main & Kingsway. You'll see the view and immediately see how I was able to find inspiration to write.

-I have been blessed by western hospitality, and more than anything else, will take that back to Ontario with me.

See you in September.

Stuff Christians Like

2010-07-11T18:58:00.007-04:00

I'm not always hip to the latest trends, but I guess I should try to be if I want to be missionally relevant to a PoMo-Starbucks-drinking-wear-my-faith-on-my-wicked-American-Apparel-original-silk-screen-T-shirt kind of generation. Or maybe not? Questions, questions...

Disclaimer: One of my biggest pet peeves is the way Christians often absorb culture, chew on it a bit, and then spit it out as a lamer, more embarrassing, way that ruins both. Two examples: (a) Those red T-shirts that say Counter-Culture on them in the Coca-Cola font style; (b) the majority of Contemporary Christian Music, which is neither contemporary nor original. If anything, both of these say that Christians are only capable of being boring, unoriginal, participants in our culture. But I digress...

Regardless, I'm not hip to the hipness of the Stuff Christians Like (SCL) website, but I did come across a book of the same title while checking out the Regent College Bookstore. Here's where the disclaimer comes in. For a moment, I got caught in the broad generalization mentioned above, and lumped the SCL website in as a lamer version of Stuff White People Like (SWPL), the latter being a brilliantly witty take on whiteness, and on more than one occasion, dead on in its depiction of white, North American, culture. This alone could have kept me from purchasing the book inspired by the website, but I am glad that in this case, it did not. The SCL website makes it pretty clear that it is inspired by SWPL, and gives credit where credit is due. Great, my conscience is clear.

Alright, so this book is probably the funniest thing that I have ever read out of the Christian world. Seriously, so hilarious that I was literally crying while reading it to some friends, and had my voice break several times while trying to read through some of the chapter headings. A small smattering of such headings look like this:

"Complaining about not being 'fed' at church."

"Watching R-rated movies... but only if they're violent."

"Using "I'll pray about it" as a euphemism for no."

"Falling in love on a mission trip."

"Ranking honeymoon sex slightly higher than the second coming of Christ."

So yes, I broke my fast from purchasing new books, and I bought this book. It was/is worth it. There is a treasure trove of teachable anecdotes here that I will no doubt use when I return home. Also, I doesn't hurt to laugh (a lot) at yourself. I think that if I was to contribute a chapter heading, mine might be,

"Letting people know that you're wrestling out your salvation by blogging about it."

Vancouver, Je T'aime

2010-07-08T19:50:00.002-04:00

I don't know what it is, but every time I visit Vancouver I end up getting blessed with beautiful weather. The locals say the current stretch of hot, sunny, and cloudless days is not the norm, but it's the same weather as when I came here the first time six years ago. Perhaps this province really just wants to show me a great time - to woo me into picking up from Ontario and moving to these parts. I wouldn't be the first.

You needn't worry, my Ontario brethren, I will return to you safely in a few months time; but in the meantime I will enjoy everything this beautiful province has to offer.

Initial thoughts in the few days that I've been here: (1) I am jealous of the UBC campus, as I drove, open-jawed, around the perimeter; (2) walking around Granville and Emily Carr made me wish I was putting my creative potential to good use; (3) the world needs more mountains.

Though I am technically on vacation right now, it still seems to be a working vacation, as many things still need to be set in place for the GP next month, and there's an endless list of things to take care of for next year back on campus. However, I must say that working in Toronto during the heat wave, and working in Vancouver during the heat wave, are world's apart. I am pleased with my choice.

Finally, I've embarked on reading the last (well, last one for me to read) complete Fitzgerald novel of his oeuvre, The Beautiful and Damned, and am being inspired for the creative writing that is itching to begin here.

badgerland presents: Saskatchewan

2010-06-21T22:14:00.004-04:00

My musical alter ego - Davey Von Stone - is honoured to be amongst those whose passion for all things Saskatchewan has brought forth this loving ode to Canada's swift flowing land. Click the album art and experience the sound of prairies recorded in far off places.

Suffering and Loneliness

2010-06-15T11:52:00.005-04:00

Yesterday I was having coffee with some friends on a patio up on Bloor West when an elderly gentleman sat down on the bench in front of us and asked the following:

-Excuse me. I used to work for CIBC and... What do you think the ratio is... of five people... is there one who would buy someone a hamburger?

Immediately the man burst into tears. Each of us looked awkwardly at each other, and as I was the closest to the man, I felt compelled to oblige. I tried to comfort him, reassuredly saying,

-Of course I will. I'll be right back.

So I walked a few store fronts down and bought the man two hamburgers from McDonalds. When I had returned back to the bench, one of my friends was sitting with the man and talking to him. I put my hand on the man's shoulder,

-Here you go. And not just one. I figured you could use two.

-Oh thank you. Thank you. I'll eat this one now, and save the other one for later.

I began to listen to the man as he shared the many reasons for his breakdown. It was rare for him to make it through a sentence without bursting into tears, and holding his face in his hands.

-I am alone, and there is nobody to talk to... (tears). My wife put me in a home down the street a while ago, and now all my family is dead... (sobs). Sometimes I wonder if God is punishing me. Sometimes I ask 'God, why do you hate me?' (more sobbing).

Here are the things I'm noticing about the man at this time: He has an unusually large build up of liquid eye mucus; he has two bracelets, one that says Fall Risk and another with his name, and for some odd reason, a note that he has no family.

-I am lonely. It's so lonely when nobody talks to you. I could be dead on the floor of my room for a week and nobody would notice. How can you be happy when nobody cares?

-Well, perhaps you need to find joy in the small things, like a hamburger at the perfect time.

-You're right, I guess.

He takes some more, slow bites.

-I used to work for CIBC. Lived in Fenelon Falls. I had a big house, and I drove a Mercedes. I had the good life, but it means nothing now. I go to dinner with people and nobody talks. It's just so lonely I... (head in hands) I am so lonely. And I ask God why. Does he not love me?

We're still listening as this goes in circles a little bit.

-It makes you not want to live anymore.

I jump in during a pause.

-That's when you have to appreciate the small things. The clean air to breathe. The sunshine and the green trees. See those pigeons down there?

-Yes.

-Think about it: if God can love even those pigeons at our feet, don't you think he'd love you more?

-Oh I feed the pigeons all the time.

A smile emerges on his face, and lingers for a while before he descends into his wounds of loneliness again. My bet at this point is dementia. He doesn't seem to connect everything, and yet there are moments of real clarity - specifically when speaking about the milestones of success that are now meaningless. He sure seems connected to his old Mercedes, and to the truth that the desired vehicle speaks no life into his suffering and loneliness. We talk for a few more minutes before he heads on his way. We make sure to let him know we really appreciated and enjoyed talking to him, and that he was worth talking to. He smiles, clings to his cane and McDonald's bag, and leaves. Very slowly.

This whole episode reminded me of a prince many millennia ago who left his castle to observe the people outside his gate, and all he found was suffering. He went on to teach many that all of the world is suffering; that suffering is truth. I don't buy it though. I am ever thankful that though suffering and loneliness are a part of this life, there is one who speaks belovedness to creation, and I can't help but wonder what this man's life would be like if he knew he was loved. Because he is.

In this moment I saw Hauerwas, Nouwen, and my calling all intertwined.

Moving from Solitude to Community to Ministry

2010-06-12T18:59:00.002-04:00

If we do not know we are the beloved sons and daughters of God, we're going to expect someone in the community to make us feel that way. They cannot. We'll expect someone to give us that perfect, unconditional love. But community is not loneliness grabbing onto loneliness: "I'm so lonely, and you're so lonely." It's solitude grabbing onto solitude: "I am the beloved; you are the beloved; together we can build a home." Sometimes you are close, and that's wonderful. Sometimes you are close, and that's wonderful. Sometimes you don't feel much love, and that's hard. But we can be faithful. We can build a home together and create space for God and for the children of God.

- Henri Nouwen

Living Gently in a Violent World

2010-06-04T00:31:00.002-04:00

I remember thinking, When technology replaces community, you ain't got community to fall back on when you're in a crisis.

- Stanley Hauerwas

David's List

2010-05-26T18:05:00.010-04:00

Alright, so now that LOST is over, any time spent not analyzing, re-analyzing, and reminiscing the goodness of that show will be spent doing my new, rediscovered hobby: reading. That's right. LOST is over, and therefore it is time to leave the television behind and to start reading. So here it is folks: my list of books to read. There are some gems in there - specifically the one by L. Neil Smith (if you can find it).

Estimated time of completion: Don't even want to think about it.

I wish I could find a way to make these images larger if you click on them. However, I'm not computer savvy, so best of luck in trying to figure it out in the meantime.

108; Fin; The End

2010-05-24T13:24:00.002-04:00

In the earliest moments of reflection on the episode, I was hesitantly okay - perhaps all right - with the outcome. It was not what I had expected, and yet was exactly what I had expected. In my desire to get out of the finale, and essentially the show itself, what I wanted out of it, I found it difficult to let go. Now, with more space to reflect upon what happened over the past six years, I think I am coming to a place of actually letting go. Of appropriate acquiesce. And fittingly, I am finding the finale to be more and more poignant and brilliant. This was not just some show. For those with eyes and ears that could perceive beyond first sense, it was something far more significant. When you can sit at a kitchen table the morning afterwards, having a meaningful conversation about what worked, what did not work, what this story meant to us, the nature of a parable, the sacred experienced on the screen of the profane - then you know that this was something beyond just a serialized television show.

fourty-two

2010-05-23T17:45:00.004-04:00

This should be a self-explanatory reference to the greatest character on the greatest television series, and what drives him. I will let other's unpack the theological significance of the notion of a constant, as I am running out of time to do so. The final recap starts in 56 minutes.

vingt-trois

2010-05-23T13:54:00.004-04:00

Sometimes, you can just hop in the back of someone's cab and tell them what they're supposed to do. Other times, you have to let him look out at the ocean for a while.

XVI

2010-05-23T08:26:00.002-04:00

Evil Hearts of Unbelief: What comes out of a man is what defiles a man. For from within, out of the heart of man, comes evil thoughts...

XV

2010-05-23T01:20:00.003-04:00

A simple act of choosing to believe has massive ramifications, unbeknown in the present, but often serendipitous.

ocho

2010-05-22T18:05:00.006-04:00

Why does this generation seek every single answer? Truly I say to you, answers will remain for this generation.

4

2010-05-22T14:18:00.002-04:00

One day I am going to write a serial that falls somewhere between Dostoevsky and Darlton.

Vito's Ordination Song

2010-05-16T22:38:00.007-04:00

I live in parables. Or, at least I try to. Last year when I first co-taught Mark I at city/script, I decided to play a song before each study that had something, anything, to do with what we were about to study. Only one student came up to me throughout the week asking me why I had chosen the songs for each day. To her had been given the secret of the playlist. This year, when I saw this same student again, she came up to me and asked if any of the new students had asked questions about songs (I had a new playlist this year). This year one or two students asked.

There was one song this year that I hadn't planned on playing at all, but for some reason or another it was played midweek. And then again on the final day during reflection time. For me, this song encapsulated my thoughts and emotions while leading. So here is said song.

Vito's Ordination Song - Sufjan Stevens

I always knew you

In your mothers arms

I have called your name

I've an idea

Placed in your mind

To be a better man

I've made a crown for you

Put it in your room

And when the bridegroom comes

There will be noise

There will be glad

And a perfect bed

And when you write a poem

I know the words

I know the sounds

Before you write it down

When you wear your clothes

I wear them too

I wear your shoes

And your jacket too

I always knew you

In your mothers arms

I have called you son

I've made amends

Between father and son

Or, if you haven't one

Rest in my arms

Sleep in my bed

There is a design

To what I did and said

Listen below, and feel free to ignore the fan made video

Exit Strategy

2010-05-11T01:10:00.003-04:00

I have had a hard time putting into words what the experience of last week, teaching the first half of the Gospel of Mark by myself, was like. I can be honest in saying that it was yet again another transformative experience with good news Mark had to share, and that things came to life that had never come to life before. I believe* to have perceived some new revelations and understandings of what the text calls people into. One day, when I write that oft-thought of book on Mark, the things running through my mind this past week will most definitely be included. My mind's eye holds the cover artwork, and inner artwork (that whole legion thing will be true to its scene - images and actions of pure chaos). These are a few of the minor things I have left thinking about; the more major being about what it means to follow Jesus, and to see unclean things made whole in this life.

At the end of the study I taught, I encouraged the students to develop an exit strategy involving how they were going to spend their time

post-city/script. It's easy to look for rest after pouring yourself out for days of intense study, but so often the idleness and vacancy that fills the void of structured days and intense relationship can lead to destructive tendencies and, in all honesty, unbelief in what just occurred. The

playing out of my exit strategy has not gone as well as I would have hoped, but I have tried. Here are the things I've been throwing myself into to find rest, relaxation, and aid reintegration into the busyness of life:

-Lost: This was the first thing I did when I got home.

-Cinema: I had a hankering for French cinema, so I watched "Entre les murs" aka. The Class (see above), which was fantastic. Tonight I watched "The Box". Weird, but it was good way to also hang out with a good friend from back home. Would love to get in "Wings of Desire" before things get too busy again.

-Home: I'm in Brantford, for better or for worse. It's hard getting around this town without a vehicle.

-Hockey: These playoffs are bittersweet. See earlier post.

-Books: I'm slowly easing my way into "I Once Was Lost", and "True Story".

-Coffee: I have made sure to be intentional about getting out of the house, especially to read. There's a fair trade coffee shop in town that I make sure to frequent.

-Wine: The parables about new wine and wineskins really gave me a hankering for some red wine. I enjoyed some Chilean and Spanish wines with the family on Mother's Day. Ah, perfect for a Sunday afternoon.

-Music: writing songs about Sasquatch in Saskatchewan, bridegrooms, and love's labourers.

Tomorrow I will more than likely head back into the realm of work, but I am ever so grateful to indulge the things that I delight in, knowing they are a part of who I have been created to be, a part of the whole truth I extrovert to Jesus, and woven into things being made new in my life. This has been life giving - all of these past few weeks.

Playoff Beard: The Bitter End

2010-05-10T17:25:00.002-04:00

The Last Shave: April 12, 2010
Modifications: Removed neck beard and aforementioned upper-cheek hairs, as per Playoff Beard rules.
Moral Support: Gino Reda
Reason to Mope: I don't like sharks, and I need a hair cut.

Playoff Beard: Day 16

2010-04-28T17:15:00.004-04:00

The Last Shave: April 12, 2010.

Modifications: Trimmed sparse upper-cheek hairs, as per Playoff Beard Rules.

Moral Support: Gino Reda.

Reasons for Hope: A decisive 6-1 victory over Pheonix in game 7; Abdelkader's hits and Helm's speed; Memories of Vladimir Konstantinov.

Post-It Note Book Reviews

2010-04-25T17:42:00.015-04:00

The following is a list of books I've read, or am still reading, from the past year. Rather than writing full reviews of each one, I've posted Post-It Notes with random thoughts on each book.

FICTION

The Brothers Karamazov - Fyodor Dostoevsky

Beatrice & Virgil - Yann Martel

The Complete Stories - Flannery O'Connor

Dubliners - James Joyce

Scott Pilgrim, Vol. 1-5 - Bryan Lee O'Malley

NON-FICTION

Surprised by Hope - N.T. Wright

Drawn into the Mystery of Jesus through the Gospel of John - Jean Vanier

The Passionate Intellect: Incarnational Humanism and the Future of University Education - Norman Klassen & Jens Zimmerman

Colossians Remixed - Brian J. Walsh & Sylvia C. Keesmaat

Life Together - Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership - Ruth Haley Barton

Playoff Beard: Day 1

2010-04-13T18:30:00.004-04:00

The Last Shave: April 12, 2010.
Moral Support: Gino Reda.
Reason For Hope: 16-3-2 since the Olympic break. Jimmy Howard.

Best Track: Tornado

2010-04-07T11:10:00.004-04:00

I'm really not sure I'm sold on the visual aesthetic of this release, but this may be from my phobia of make up on anyone's face, let alone jónsi's. However, luckily enough for me, enjoying the sonic appeal of an LP does not require the visual faculty.

I hesitantly started listening to jónsi's "Go" last week; I wasn't sure I was willing to accept the another solo-offshoot of sigur rós, though riceboy sleeps' 'happiness' was pretty transcendent. I had heard 'boy lilikoi' and wasn't sold. I heard 'go do' and wasn't sold. Then I gave the full album stream a chance, and now I'm sold.

The only downside to the album is this: english. I am still convinced that the weakest sigur rós track of the past decade is 'all alright'. It's not that jónsi is terrible at english. It's that the made up hopelandic went further in creating a mood and atmosphere that could steal me away to one of my frequent daydreams. Now that I know what he's saying, it throws an extra obstacle in there.

I read a blog recently about music, memory, and response. The author mentioned the ability of music to soundtrack the different stories, moments, and events in our lives. And yet again, something jónsi-related has taken that place (what sigur rós album isn't soundtrack-of-our-lives-worthy, honestly?). For someone who is trying hard not to buy new music, but rather replace his digital music library with a vinyl one, it will be hard to not pick this album up, and soon.

This is some of the most beautiful music out there folks.

Go. Do.

can we all take a collected sigh?

2010-04-06T00:43:00.002-04:00

Life, my friends, is deserving of a collected sigh, followed by some reflection. Repeat once, maybe twice. Some close friends of mine have an axiom for the over-the-top moments of life that would never present themselves unless you were earnestly pursuing the Kingdom of God, mistakes and all: Life sure isn't dull.

And it surely is not. Especially not of late. If you ever have the chance to track me down for coffee, ask me to share some crazy stories of my life of late.

In other news, my latest story has characters with interesting names, and isn't melancholic:

Georgy-porgy. Michael. Damiel. Flannery. Orri (though I haven't written him in yet).

completed

2010-03-28T17:11:00.004-04:00

Over 80 years of history

Into 43 minutes of documentary

Captured, Edited, and Burned in 36 hours

In the glory of HD, at a whopping 26 GB filesize

Completed despite a fatal software crash at 4:30am

4 hours of slicing, cutting, pasting, redone from scratch in 1

With only 40 minutes sleep last night; 5 hours the night before

Nearly 24 hours of non-stop work in front of a meagre macbook screen

Rushed for a premiere screening in front of new IVCF staff at 1 pm at OPC

I'm exhausted

but I had

a blast!

the cork on the bottle!!!

2010-03-25T22:27:00.003-04:00

wendell says 'practice resurrection'

2010-03-17T00:03:00.003-04:00

The burnout

The grey

The cement

The isolation

The wires and plugs

The pixels and time

The artificial lights...

Being unfruitful in the global-interconnected-city.

I read some Wendell Berry, and I found an antidote.

Sometimes I want to move to the country, work the ground, grow a crop, and eat it/share it. I want my hands to feel the dirt, and sense growth and fruitfulness. I'm not sure if the fields would receive me well. Regardless, I want to be the steward who faithfully embraces the gift of God that is work.

So, I endeavour to labour fruitfully in the city, for the city is where I'm called to call home.

(click on Wendell for his poem)

The Prologue of an Artist as a Young Man

2010-03-12T23:30:00.006-05:00

Well Mom, I've deviated slightly from my plans. The joyful story is still being written, but this was found in that old sketchbook. I've decided to post this here. This prologue was plucked from my junkyard of false starts (see Elliott -->). I started writing the actual story several times and could never get it figured out. Sure, I got the soundtrack that was constantly running through my mind, creating magnificent storyboards, figured out, but never the right words. Looking back now, I am pretty sure I laid this story to rest with a lot of things years ago. But I did enjoy finding this early start. Part of it came from an actual conversation I had had a few years ago. The conversation came well before the current global economic crises. Now that we've seen how the well-to-do have used their bail out, I'm curious as to whether I'll get to have this conversation again some time soon.

- -

Through the windshield in front of us the sky was a muddy orange of reflected city lights on the ever-growing accumulation of snow. Driving within the well worn ruts in the snow watching a Florida license plate timidly try to find its footing in conditions foreign to a southern climate. Smirks grew on our faces.

Lining the increasingly hidden highway were tall corporate flagships with neon-lighted northern stars. I began to count how many were on the passenger side when I realized I had no idea what many of these entities consisted of or involved themselves with. For all I knew, each building could be in the same industry as the other, and competing for the same 35-50 business-class-paper-shredding-demographic.

-Do you think this corporate age is ever going to slow down? Or even end?

-Definitely. Our whole western way of living will end one day. It’s inevitable.

-It’s not sustainable is it?

-No

-Do you ever wonder what it will be like when it’s over?

-I imagine there will be a lot of starvation.

-Starvation?

-Yea. Another depression. I think it will be a very chaotic period of time.

I silently meditated on what this might look like. Part of me longed to see the whole system overhauled – to live in a broken society that was at least self-aware and wanting to make another go at it; I was tired of too many cultural norms that didn’t fit. I wanted it and was scared of the consequences. I was afraid of the limitless depths of chaos we were all capable of.

This fear brought me back to my driving companion. These conversations weren’t abnormal with us – rather, common fare when we were given open stretches of silence upon which to discuss the things which differentiated us from so many of our close ones. Rarely did I find our conversations stagnant, even when we talked about nothing of real importance. So when fear crept into my imagination I moved closer to the one I felt safer with. If the world as we knew it was going to change drastically, I wanted her to be with me when it happened. It wasn’t a response to fear, but a further nudge to the longing that had surfaced and been repressed for the previous year.

Further along the highway I saw three enormous apartment buildings out my window that always reminded me of the empire state building. (They were fashioned as such). I immediately saw into their futures – abandoned and dilapidated. Perhaps a fire emerging from different apartments on different sides. The billowing black one of many funeral pyres. I knew this would be an image that I kept close as I wrote this story.

This story has been growing for the past three years from one mental image, continually refined, and will continue to grow until it is finished. For years I had avoided writing it because to do so would be to submerge myself into the painful circumstances that birthed the whole story. I was going to write of my first lost love. I still am, even though it is more past than present. I thought that this story would be about her.

Driving down the 401 in a snowstorm I asked if the current age would burst. It was this moment that made me realize I was not longer writing this book for my lost love. I was writing this book for the one sitting beside me in the car, driving us home from a wedding.

Dear Mom,

2010-03-06T12:36:00.003-05:00

Hey Elizabeth. It's me, your son David. I thought I would write a blog for you today. There are two reasons for this.

First. I hope you had a happy birthday this week, and I apologize that I was only able to wish you a happy birthday over the phone under the grogginess of having just woken up. I hope it was a splendid day. Did Dad remember to get you a gift? Was it Detroit Red Wings themed? Another season of J.A.G.? A Tom Selleck Calendar? Oh the possibilities are endless with father. He is a good man - let him never forget that.

Second. You know how you enjoy reading my stories, but often get upset or worked up because of the pathos weaved throughout? I always argue that there's a redemptive piece to all of my stories, and that hope is just that, hope, found in the epiphany in the midst of mire. Well, I write this to inform you that my latest piece of fiction is woven with less pathos. There are fields of barley and boyhood ballyhoo. There are dreams, visions, and fruitful labour. There are no car accidents, mental breakdowns, or broken bottles. There is joy. The piece is in process, far from finished, but it feels good to be writing. I hope you will enjoy reading this one when it is finished.

Love,

Your beloved son.

old stories

2010-03-05T23:42:00.002-05:00

In a fit of creativity this evening, I sat down with a guitar and wrote a song. I will often dilly-dally about with guitars, ukuleles (or continue to try and teach myself piano), but never write down the words to the songs that form. Tonight, I decided to buck that trend and searched for something to write down the coming words. I ended up finding an old, sketch journal from a few summers ago and made use of it. What came as a surprise was finding a bunch of extremely short stories or beginnings of stories inside - my junkyard of false starts. I'm going to end the evening reading over them. Perhaps tomorrow I'll bust out the trusty typewriter, and this sketch journal, and see if anything good comes of it.

A Novel in Four Parts with Epilogue

2010-02-16T13:59:00.003-05:00

I finally finished reading "The Brothers Karamazov" on Sunday. It took months to read, because I didn't want to finish reading it. I could have torn through it, but I always had to step away and contemplate. It is the first book I seriously considered reading again from the start once I finished it. I can not explain the merits of this book enough. This is a joyous book that is flowing in suffering. To hold and understand both joy and suffering at the same time has been one of the valued lessons the spirit has led me through these past few months. This book has played its part in the process of wholeness I find myself in, and the fruit of new life.

I have an old, good, friend back in my hometown whose face often appeared in my mind as I read this book. One day in the near future, he is going to receive a surprise package in the mail with a note attached to it that goes something like this:

Dear ______,

Just under a year ago I found this book in a used bookstore and felt compelled to buy it. Read it I did, and my heart burned. I speak truthfully when I say the voice of God was heard as pages turned, and the hero Alyosha navigated the world his beloved Zosima sent him into. From early on I knew I needed to send you this book, purely as an response to a burning heart that I'm still learning to acknowledge. So read this treasure, my friend, and as you finish I hope you will speak the novice's penultimate words with me: "Certainly we shall rise, certainly we shall see and gladly, joyfully tell one another all that has been."

Until that day,

Dave

This is a masterpiece. Even LOST Season 2 thinks so...

damiel und marion

2010-02-14T00:30:00.004-05:00

There's no greater story than ours...
that of man and woman.

It will be a story of giants...
invisible...
transposable...
a story of new ancestors.

glen and marketa

2010-02-10T23:56:00.005-05:00

Just because.*

*Click the picture to download "Fallen from the Sky (live)"

Here's a Thought...

2010-02-10T00:52:00.006-05:00

No Fringe. No Flashforward. No Office. No 30 Rock. No Sportscentre. No new sitcoms. No new dramas. No daytime news. No late night talk shows. No time wasted. No television.

On May 24th, this might be my new reality.

I have enjoyed the six year run of LOST immensely; some might even say a bit too much. For me, the show has permanently raised the standard for what I'm willing to invest my time in watching. As such, it is now rare that a show is able to garner my attention, let alone deserve my attention. I fear, but secretly delight in knowing, that once LOST is off the airwaves, I will no longer have any reason to spend time watching television. So perhaps once the show wraps up on May 23rd, it might be the last time I watch television (save for a good hockey game with my dad, or something of that sort). The thought of this is rather exhilarating.

We'll see how this idea gets executed, but I can already see more time

freed up to do more enjoyable things, like read a great novel; paint a picture; write a letter on my typewriter; make a cassette mix tape; listen to an LP on vinyl, sans interruption; write a book on my typewriter; take a walk; phone a friend; make travel plans; go to the theatre; enjoy coffee with a friend; volunteer somewhere; explore the kingdom; write a song on the piano; dream of endless possibilities...

I think I might just do this.

On Mexico, Joy, and Wholeness.

2010-02-05T00:40:00.003-05:00

I really wish there was a more flattering picture of me in the market in Mexico City.

It’s been a few days since returning to Toronto from my five days in Mexico City, and I’m still thinking a lot about the whole experience. Many people have asked me about what was meaningful about the trip – and to be completely honest, to share everything I’m thinking about post-Mexico would fill far too many blog postings. So the highlights:

Content:

So I went to Mexico City to be trained on how to lead a Global Partnership in the future (interesting notion, considering I’ve never been on one before), and these were some of the key criteria touched upon that a good director should be pursuing:

-Finding the Teachable Moments

-Planning for the Future

-Inspiring Character Development

-Building Effective Teams

-Developing Cross-Cultural Competency

Each of these areas were discussed at length, and the most exciting part (at least for me), was visioning around what the implications of a vibrant and growing field of Global Partnership means for the future of our ministry. Seriously, it was way too much fun dreaming about the future. All of the content was serious gold, and I’m really excited what this means for the students coming on a GP with me, and for future exec teams at U of T.

Location/People:

We were based out of the Gran Texas Hotel and the Casa de Los Amigos for the five days we were there. My room was on the fourth floor of the hotel, and I had to actually exit the building and walk on the rooftop patio to get to my room (great!). The view was pretty fun too as I looked out on the rough-around-the-edges-but-beautiful neighbourhood. And as always, the people were pretty fun too. Seriously, I love IVCF folks. It’s near-impossible for me to spend a week with 25 Canadian staff and not have an enjoyable time. I think there’s a sense of deep understanding and respect we all share – a common commitment to the gospel – that allows us to all get along famously. It’s like going on an adventure with your best friends (both old and new).

Joy and Wholeness:

I feel like I’m in a season of joy right now. I am so thankful for many of the experiences I’ve had as of late, and have seen nothing but good things happen on campus since returning (which is especially meaningful given the ups and downs of the year thus far). So Mexico = Awesome; Returning home = Awesome; Awesome + Awesome = Joy!

Another reason for my joyful attitude these days stems from this process I seem to be finding myself in where I’m seeing the many formerly-divided parts of myself being reintegrated and contributing to a feeling of wholeness. Consider this: For years I have had three competing desires that never reconciled with each other. 1) the desire to influence and shape lives [which led me to want to be a high school teacher]; 2) the desire to travel and see the world [which almost led me to drop out of university; and 3) the desire to write, film, and create [which still pulls at my attention]. Now, all three of these things are being brought together in my job.

I get to mentor and disciple university students on a daily basis, invite them to travel with me and engage foreign cultures in a way that is far more invested than mere tourism, and I ‘hopefully’ get to document my upcoming summer GP with a camera and microphone. So basically I get to be a Cross-Cultural-Documentary-Filmmaker-Campus-Minister. And I get to be trained in places like Mexico City. I seriously love my job!

There are many, many, MANY more anecdotes to share from this trip that are better shared over a cup of coffee and conversation, so if this post intrigues you, track me down.

Paz,

Dinner is Finally Served

2010-01-24T13:29:00.004-05:00

A few months ago I started a literary-quasi-artistic endeavour. Then I stopped. I mentioned that due to unforeseen circumstances, the morsels of creative sustenance had been devoured, and my plate of inspiration was clear. I had hoped that in a few weeks time I would be able to finish. Weeks turned into months, and my desire to finish waned. However, I can now say that the piece is finished in its rough form (which turns out to be its intended form). It's not publishable to say the least, but it was a fun exercise. No doubt my mother (God bless her), will read the final product and assume that everything in it is absolute truth, as if I was writing biographically. I think it's a parental tendency. In response I give you these words:

There never was a good biography of a good novelist. There couldn't be. He is too many people if he's any good. -F.Scott Fitzgerald

While the story of the character writing this letter is far from over, I am finished with him. Perhaps he'll return in twenty years, or perhaps this exercise has bludgeoned him like Smerdyakov handled Fyodor*. Regardless, here is the final page I will post here on the site. If you want to read the full piece, email ithrewabrickthroughawindow[at]gmail[dot]com for a copy.

*Confused? Go out and purchase a copy of Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. Please, please, PLEASE read it!

The Discipline of Listening

2010-01-05T13:04:00.002-05:00

This morning, while I was making-eating-enjoying breakfast, I slid Side C of the Swell Season vinyl on to my record player, and joyfully listened to the final side - including the vinyl only addition of "Something Good" (which was, well, something good!). There was something calming about the whizz and crackle of the needle sent through the speakers that made me appreciate the sound that much more. Though I wasn't fully focused on the sound (I was after all preparing and eating my breakfast), there was more focus on it than when I'm on my Mac, or doing some menial task. Earlier in the week, I spent a morning listening to my Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme LP, with little to no interruption, and it was beautiful. Just beautiful.

My listening practices are changing...

The last time that I listened to my iPod was on New Year's Day, while flying from Minneapolis to Toronto. There was nobody sitting beside me who I could talk to, and I wanted to hear some familiar songs while journalling about my Urbana experience. With this, I am okay. I write that to say that the days of me popping the earbuds in before heading out of the house are seemingly over. I don't want to listen to music on my iPod anymore. At least not when I'm in potentially social situations (ie; anytime people are present), because I become absent. I want to be present. I want to either enjoy music in the seclusion of a quiet afternoon with myself, or communally with friends. Not when I could be listening to the weather's song outside, or talking to someone on the subway.

I say all this to say...

My listening practices are changing.

Jesus would appear in sky, like the aliens in Independence Day

2010-01-03T14:39:00.003-05:00

I have returned from Urbana09. Still processing it all. There were too many highlights to name, but here is one of my favourite talks from the week.

Money and Power: Oscar Muriu from Urbana 09 on Vimeo.

December Update

2009-12-20T12:25:00.002-05:00

I forgot to post this a few weeks back. Enjoy the read!

Songs For Christmas!

2009-12-19T01:06:00.003-05:00

Dear Friends of DSL,

Every so often I manage to find an output for the creativity that so thoroughly runs through my mind each day. For some reason, I have fallen in love with writing seasonal songs. There were cheesy Valentine's songs in high school, followed by a sporadic smattering of Christmas songs ever since. I love writing seasonal songs because A) I lack an overwhelming confidence in my musical and vocal abilities, and B) because the sentiments of the season overrule point A. This year my friend Aaron invited me to record a Christmas track (or three!), and they're now online, along with some old treasures (I use that term loosely). Please feel free to check them out at these links:

Songs for Christmas - Davey Von Stone

Happy Christmas!

The Picture That Rocked The Foundations

2009-12-08T21:20:00.004-05:00

New ad campaign for OPC?

Che: The Argentine

2009-12-02T17:50:00.005-05:00

Again, I'm settled into a living room at a friends house, some wine has been poured, and Che Part One: The Argentine begins to play. Many years have passed since I had last seen Che in film. Then, the film had ended with him deciding that he would not continue on his journey with Alberto. His heart had been changed at the sight of injustice throughout South America, as the indigenous and the peasantry were exploited by the empires of colonialism, and the rich, corrupt landowners in each country. It seemed that borders did not isolate the problem within certain nations. This film begins in conversation with a young Fidel Castro about the need to overthrow Batista in Cuba.

There will be critics in hindsight who will say that the regime that the Castro Brothers and Guevera ushered in has oppressed the island of Cuba, and I think that argument is for another conversation. In this conversation, the oppressiveness of the American empire on a island nation at that time is fair game. When the richest nation in the world is getting richer on your behalf, and your poor descend into new levels of poverty, something should change. It was in this climate that Che steps into his revolutionary shoes, seeking to right an injustice.

While working with revolutionary forces, there's are many scenes in which Che offers those who have tagged along the opportunity to leave, go home, and not be involved with the armed conflict. He says they will have to live with the shame of not fighting for their own sovereignty, but that there will be no consequence otherwise. Many break ranks and return home to their families and livelihoods. Each time as they live, he declares that while some leave now, others will feel compelled to join and fill their vacancy. Not just that, but their community of revolutionaries will grow.

If you read this blog lately, you might notice the scripture that was jumping into my head while these scenes were taking place. The parable of the great dinner kept coming to mind as some reject the initial invitation to join the rebels and liberate the island. They had said yes, and now said no. Such were the guests who the master invited. They were once "Yes"s and when the slave was sent to get them, they were "No"s. So others were compelled and brought in by the slave, and those originally invited were unable to share in the great feast that was prepared. Likewise, I'm sure the people who left were unable to share in the victory of the revolutionaries, whereas the new recruits - those compelled by a cause to join - could celebrate freely.

Che... What's the deal? You're living out these kingdom of God parables, and showing the consequence of invitation and rejection. You're closer to portraying it than most of the church is.

We (the church) rarely invite people to something good, like sharing table in the kingdom of God; what's more is how often we come up with excuses to reject the invitation to be with Jesus:

"Sorry, I can't come. I know I said yes, but it's past dark, on the other side of town, and I don't like riding the TTC"

"Sure I said I would support the church, but with Christmas shopping and credit card debt, I don't think I can do it anymore."

"You're right. I did say I would be hospitable and welcoming to those out-of-towners, but midterms are kicking my butt, and I can't afford to host a meal when the biggest test is next week."

"My partner and I don't get much time together, so Sunday mornings is our date time at Starbucks - a cup of coffee while we both read the paper."

Do we actually believe that the kingdom of God is good? Would we be willing to invite someone else to try it out? Is it good enough to sacrifice our time, money, energy, etc., to just show up and see what the "big meal" is going to be like?

Sure Che is involved in the killing of many people (change through violence) - something that is truly inconsistent with the peaceful teachings of God's kingdom; but he truly believes that he's inviting people to something that is good for him, good for them, and good for others off the island. That's more than many can say.

Again, the enigma that is Che and the kingdom.

Che: The Motorcycle Diaries

2009-11-30T22:29:00.005-05:00

I watched the Steven Soderbergh Che films on the weekend, and was enthralled by the story of Ernesto 'Che' Guevera. I am so intrigued by how the Che I've seen in film* seems to get many parts of 'the kingdom', and yet at some point rejects it thoroughly. Why? I wonder aloud. The next couple of posts surround my fascination with Che and, more importantly, the kingdom.

-------

I can still remember the moment. It's third year at Mac. I'm in the living room of a student house with a bunch of friends and we're watching The Motorcycle Diaries. The movie ends, the credits run, and the DVD title screen loops for about 5 minutes before someone utters a word.

"Wow... That was good."

Most of us wanted to drop out of school, buy motorcycles, and travel around South America after seeing the film. Some developed mad crushes on Ernesto. Either way, most people had been unsettled by the film because of how foreign, and yet how close, it was to our experience living in Hamilton. We were students in programs we didn't necessarily love, and we wanted more out of life than academia offered. We wanted adventure, and we wanted to see change in the world.

It was in this context that I saw what is hands down my favourite scene in film. While on the way to visit a leper colony separated by a mighty river from the healthy medical staff, Che and his friend Alberto refuse to wear gloves to protect them from contact with the lepers. They reject the rules of the nuns, knowing full well leprosy doesn't spread through touch. Once they arrive, Che is welcomed by Papa Carlito, a leper excited to see newcomers. When Che extends his exposed hand as a gesture of friendship, Papa Carlito is shocked and apprehensive - is this a joke? After being assured otherwise, the two shake hands, and in this moment the unclean and the clean meet; the divide between healthy and sick falls; Papa Carlito experiences the sweet sensation of an identity beginning to be redeemed.

Shortly after seeing this film, I found myself studying scripture and following the story of Jesus. Over and over again Jesus is the one stepping into unclean places and making them clean - all the while shirking the social and religious taboos of the day. Che does the same, and as such shares in the gospel in this moment. Yep, he does. The guy who doesn't believe lives out the good news right there. Thus began the enigma of Che and the kingdom for me.

Some might say the more moving scene in the film is when Che swims across the alligator and piranha infested river to spend the evening with the lepers rather than the medical professionals. For me it is the look on Papa Carlito's face when he holds the hand of a healthy person who has deemed him important enough to extend friendship and touch.

*Yes, I am merely referring to the film portrayals of Che, and not the Che found in biographies and history textbooks. Those books tell stories, as does film. Both are important, but only one shows up here.

New Aesthetic

2009-11-29T21:27:00.001-05:00

I felt like the blog needed a shake up. This is that shake up.

pause. read. pause. think. act.

2009-11-22T19:49:00.003-05:00

The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.

One of the dinner guests, on hearing this, said to him, "Blessed is anyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!" Then Jesus said to him, "Someone gave a great dinner and invited many. At the time for the dinner he sent his slave to say to those who had been invited, 'Come; for everything is ready now'. But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said to him, 'I have bought a piece of land, and I must go out and see it; please accept my regrets'. Another said, 'I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I am going to try them out; please accept my regrets'. Another said, 'I have just been married, and therefore I cannot come'."

"So the slave returned and reported this to his master. Then the owner of the house became angry and said to the slave, 'Go out at once into the streets and lanes of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame'. And the slave said, 'Sir, what you ordered has been done, and there is still room'. Then the master said to the slave, 'Go out into the roads and lanes, and compel people to come in, so that my house may be filled. For I tell you, none of those who were invited will taste my dinner."

finding inspiration

2009-11-14T14:23:00.002-05:00

Recently I've been working on some poetry that has seemingly arrived out of nowhere, landing on the tips of my tongue and fingers. I am no poet-extraordinaire, but it has been refreshing to explore this approach to creative writing again. There have been times when I have forced myself to attempt poetry, and it's been so contrived and banal that I would never imagine letting eyes see the short pages of journal space it occupies - yet it is an attempt, and I find solace in that notion.

Some recent poetry has been influenced by moments when the ear catches something that sends it on a journey. The sound of a singer that brings up connotations that connect to memories that connect to a general aesthetic wrapped around said sound/voice/accent. The sound of a foreign language that invites the "what-if" dreams of immersion in another culture, and what one's story would look like in another life. The sound of the divine incarnating these sounds, and joining them at once to each other as a portrait of humanness, and courting that portrait with the intent of marrying the human to the divine. It may sound all abstract and aery-faery, but it is a dance of theology that I have sorely missed for a long time.

These poems that I am writing are pregnant with desire - desire for a kingdom that embraces, renews, and recreates human desire. This is as unabashed as my writing has been. It is new, and it is fascinating.

cabin fever

2009-11-11T22:29:00.002-05:00

Thursday: The first couple of coughs at night

Friday: Coughs, sore throat, run through a pack of halls in three hours, crash when I get home.

Saturday: Bed-ridden (missing the pub night celebration for my friend Greg who just got engaged). To say I had the symptoms of utter misery would be an understatement

Sunday: Bed-ridden with a few brief forays to the living room to watch TV. I am caught up on FlashForward (a decent show, but it has nothing on LOST).

Monday: Finally realize that my symptoms match the dreaded piggy flu. Spend part of the day watching TV (I hate it). The other part trying to sleep it off. The house is empty and the extrovert in me wants to hang out with someone

Tuesday: House is empty, I'm more alert but get a ton of cold sweats. Sleep a bit, but otherwise am stir-crazy and wanting to hang out with someone.

Wednesday: House is empty, feel alert and back to normal self (minus the cough - which I'm told will be around for a while). The extrovert in me is going insane. I want to hang out with people, but fear I'm a liability. I can't phone or email someone asking them to come over. Self-quarantine sucks.

Seven days (the lifespan of this possible illness) and I'm ready to return to the real world. Ontario Health says I shouldn't be contagious anymore. I feel physically fine now, but man is my mental/social well being at a loss.

Why You Should Listen To The Swell Season

2009-11-04T21:54:00.005-05:00

This wasn't even the best song of the night. But bloody brilliant it still is.

Now this... this was the best part of the concert. Standing ovation mid-concert.

And another one for you...

The Strictest of Joys

2009-11-01T22:48:00.003-05:00

I'm closing out the final hours of the weekend listening to the new Swell Season EP "Strict Joy" in preparation for the concert Tuesday night. It's aptly titled to say the least. It's a really enjoyable listen, and probably the best break up album I've heard. Too bad I'm not in the mood for a break up album. This guy wants a heart-laid-out-on-the-guitar-strings-and-piano-keys album full of simple joys like enjoying love, or at least the hard earned joys that come with working love out. Man this is one of the best albums I don't want to listen to right now.

And this is not what I really want to be posting about at this juncture. I had a great weekend at a camp reunion - with the best costume I've ever created - and am still thinking about everything I learned/heard/experienced there. Funny, I feel like one of the best ways to describe the weekend is "strict joy," but that delves into a greater story that will no doubt be explored on here and involves, of all things, international intrigue.

Peace,

a few more hours

2009-10-28T16:35:00.004-04:00

a few more hours - one of the reasons i write poetry, short stories, and the odd song. upper-case songwriting in a lower-case teenage-angst-kind-of-way. once fronted by one andrew foote, and accompanied by a few friends (one brandon dodds here), afmh was borne of brantford, ontario, creativity, a shared north park collegiate experience, and penchant for big-world observations on small-town happenings. afmh's one and only release is hard to find, but a gem to those who have a copy, and the epitome of high school lo-fi. davey von stone's first public perfomance, a duet cover of travis' "the humpty dumpty love song" at the age of eighteen, would have never come to fruition had it not been for the spearheading of foote. that was over seven years ago, and to this day i still think afmh's "on about" is one of the best songs i have ever heard.

who says you need to make a buck on creative output? output for output's sake is what an eighteen year old afmh might have said.

"i wanna buy you an electric guitar / we could both be rockstars"

oh how i love finding old music that brings me right back to the creatively fertile days of high school.

The Album Wish List

2009-10-19T12:15:00.003-04:00

If I had more spare change lying around, I would purchase the following albums:

1. Jonsi & Alex - Riceboy Sleeps

~~2. Dead Man's Bones - self titled~~

3. Doves - Some Cities

4. Doves - Kingdom of Rust

5. Doves - Lost Souls

6. Ohbijou - Beacons

~~7. The Swell Season - Strict Joy~~

If anyone feels the desire to purchase these for me, that person will not be denied.

Also, I would purchase a new record player, because my record collection has unfortunately gone silent for years now.

My Anxieties Involving Our Culture

2009-10-14T20:52:00.004-04:00

I have been blessed recently in being able to read some incredible books that have had a profound impact on me - much of which I have spoken of previously on this blog. I broke out the Dietrich Bonhoeffer this past week, and today while reading "Life Together" I had another one of those profound moments. Interestingly enough, it had very little to do with the themes and messages Bonhoeffer was trying to get across, but more with his character being revealed. This guy really loves praying the psalms and reading scripture. There is this simple love and joy conveyed in each word he speaks about it, and I won't lie - I am envious of that simplicity.

And what, might you ask, does that have to do with my anxieties? Well, he talks about praying the psalms and reading scripture in morning (not my favourite time of day), emphasizing that, "For Christians the beginning of the day should not be burdened and oppressed with besetting concerns for the day's work. At the threshold of the new day stands the Lord who made it." The new dawn bore significance because God had stayed the darkness (Remember, the darkness was frightening before we had streetlights), fulfilling his promise. Ah, what rich metaphor!

I'm not sure about you, but my morning usually consists of stumbling out of bed, grumpy because I'm having to get out of bed, and hoping my house mate Susan is gone to work so I can go downstairs in my boxers to check my email and watch SportsCentre on TSN. Before I have time to catch my breath for the day, I'm rushing a shower, grabbing a granola bar, answering emails from staff and students, and running late. This is progress.

Earlier today, I was reading an article in one of the school newspapers at U of T that was discussing the future of education in the next 30 years. There was talk of Sony's application for a patent involving sending information straight to one's brain, effectively eliminating the need to listen to a lecture. This is progress.

So here's the truth. When I look at how obsessed our culture, our humanity, seems to be with progess I feel a little sick, a little anxious, and my heart gets a little rattled (literally). It makes me want to be a Luddite, though I don't hate technology. It's not that technology is bad, but the places it takes us haunt me. And yes, I realize I am a bit of a hypocrite blogging about this on my MacBook.

I really want to have a simplistic relationship with this world, so that I can gather in and appreciate the grand gestures of a creator that sustains it (and us). It's difficult in an era of instant-messaging-satellite-television-web-surfing to keep it simple, or get back to the slower paced things in life. This is why I absolutely love using my typewriter and writing letters to people. There is this element of long-suffering and patient longing as you wait for the post office to send your letter to its recipient, and for a reply-letter to be sent. The same goes for the warm embrace between friends who have shared words in ink, and have waited for the moment when they can have fellowship together in person. There is joy unspeakable in that wait, that anticipation, that our age does not know. When I write a letter, whether by pen or typewritten, it is an expression of my love and care for the person I'm sending it to. I want them to know that they are worth every long moment invested into the creation of that letter; it has not been an email sent quickly with little thought, but the exact opposite. I guess, essentially, I'm wanting to imitate a creator that desires relationship with a humanity that often can't see him past the glow of the neon gods they're [we're] worshipping: Our progress.

I am really anxious about our culture not because technology is evil, but because it feels like we lose God, and each other, the more we let it run our lives, and buy into its false promises of progress. Sounds more like regression to me.

October

2009-10-12T23:04:00.002-04:00

Did you know that October is my favourite month? For real. I'm not sure what it is, but I've always found October to be a great month. Even during times when October has been terrible, I've chosen to believe it to be a great month - the greatest month - year after year after year. I think my love for October started when I was a teenager, listening to the U2 Best of 1980-1990 album, and hearing the 'secret song' come on. That was when I first fell in love with October. So, even if it's a tough month, I always choose to love October. We're twelve days in, and I'm choosing to love October.

October
and the trees are stripped bare
of all they wear.
Why do I care?

October
and kingdoms rise,
and kingdoms fall,
but you go on,
and on.

Grace + Dinner

2009-10-10T23:12:00.004-04:00

If you've been following this blog for the last while, you might be one of those folks who have followed the "Letter of Grace" serial of sorts. If you're one of those people you might have wondered what ever happened to it. Well here's the scoop.

The piece was half finished when I first started posting, and I was finishing it as I went along. I have a few more pages beyond my last posting, but the last two pages or so still need to be completed. I had my mind set on finishing them near the end of September/beginning of October; however, sometimes things enter into a writer's life that swallow his or her ability to continue a story, as if that ability was a morsel that gives a story sustenance. I have encountered a devourer. As such, my plate has been wiped clean before I was able to finish the meal.

I have not gotten up from the table, but know that it may be a few weeks before a fresh meal arrives on my plate, and my ability to sit down and write the final pages returns. So I'll be patient. I know how the story ends. At some point you will know how the story ends. The image of grace hasn't changed - the image yet to be revealed in its fullness - but these fingers are unable to type on an empty stomach... for the time being. Thanks for your patience.

This is what happens when you talk about writing after Thanksgiving dinner.

Side note: I started reading John Donne again.

Oct 1,2,3,4,5,6

2009-10-06T00:58:00.002-04:00

I have not slept well in days.

Happy 5 Year Anniversary!

2009-09-22T14:56:00.003-04:00

Five years ago today, everyone's favourite Scotsman took a little bit too long to do his job of punching numbers into a computer. Who would've thought the resulting disaster would bring us such great drama and mystery?

I'm a nerd. Brother. But I also wish I had a cake like this to celebrate today!

A Letter of Grace: Part Five

2009-09-21T11:20:00.003-04:00

A Special Note

2009-09-14T23:48:00.002-04:00

A voice of care and reason emailed me this evening regarding the story being posted page by page here. This person was concerned that, given that this story is out in the wide open plains of cyberspace, and containing 'some' biographical information, it might be read by the wrong people, or offend certain people. In light of those concerns, I have adjusted certain elements in my postings. However, I am convinced that if the whole is read as, well just that, a whole, all will still be well in the end.

This whole story experiment will be over soon. For those who have stuck with it, I hope you enjoy the conclusion (whenever that finds its way on here).

Peace,

A Letter of Grace: Part Four

2009-09-13T14:43:00.005-04:00

A Brief Newsletter Interlude

2009-09-09T17:55:00.004-04:00

In the midst this letter-writing-extravaganza, I thought I'd throw in my latest IVCF newsletter.

Enjoy the read!

(click to enlarge)

A Letter of Grace: Part Three

2009-09-08T23:15:00.002-04:00

Once again... click to enlarge:

A Letter of Grace: Part Two

2009-09-04T00:00:00.003-04:00

Pages three and four (click to enlarge)

A Letter of Grace: Part One

2009-08-30T20:40:00.006-04:00

As promised, I've completed a part of a new piece of writing that I said I would post here. I'm going to be posting parts of the letter/story here as a serial of sorts. I've got the two first pages here, and will be posting the rest of the story, two pages at a time. Most of it is sitting here in rough draft - though as you will see this effort isn't exactly in finished form.

Enjoy Part One!

Click to enlarge.

Culture and Grief

2009-08-20T12:35:00.002-04:00

I've been grieving for my culture this week for a couple of reasons.

1. I watched a profound film from 1976 called Network. It made me never want to watch television again. It's sad and unnerving to know that a film made 33 years ago speaks so well into today's television-crazed culture.

It's sad when a Jon & Kate plus 8 book is sold in our gospel book stores, and people buy it because they choose into that reality. What good news is this? What truth is this?

2. I saw something on Facebook that I never should have seen, and never ever want to see again. We've all seen dating relationships spark and then fizzle over Facebook, all with the changing of one's relationship status. This week, however, I witnessed the brokenness of a faltering marriage crumble, all in the public forum. My heart broke for both people involved, as it breaks when someone you love suffers. I wanted to delete my account and remove any and all connections with that damned internet-reality because of what it has done to our methods of interaction, communication, and reconciliation. A status update and a comment section have become our marriage counsellors. Mediated communication becomes our main course of communication. I myself have performed the same atrocities of beginning or ending a relationship via an email, rather than person to person.

And yet, despite this chorus of shattering clay pots that I have witnessed, I am meant to be a beacon of restoration, redemption, and renewal for my culture, and so I abide.

Some days are easier than others though.

Typewriting

2009-08-17T22:49:00.002-04:00

I've been pounding away on my typewriter over the past couple of days. The back porch seems to be the best place to work thus far - save for the motion-sensor lights that don't sense my movement at the patio table, but I digress.

I'm thinking about posting a letter/story that reminds me of an Augustinian confession. I'm working on the rough draft right now, but once it starts coming together in a polished form I think I'm going to post parts of it on here for everyone's delight and enlightenment on my musings these days.

There's some Augustine. There's some Paul. There's some Dostoevsky.

There's some Toronto. There's some Gros Morne. There's some Napaneee.

There's some mysticism. There's some insight. There's a lot of reflection.

All on typewritten pages!

Keep checking back for more updates.

Finally, a word of congratulations goes out to my friend Andrew, who is a frequent visitor to thedavestonelimited. He became a new father recently! Way to go Andrew, Shary, and newcomer Logan!

Zosima

2009-08-13T22:58:00.004-04:00

But the whole scene, which had turned so ugly, was stopped in a most unexpected manner. The elder suddenly rose from his place. Alyosha, who had almost completely lost his head from fear for him and for all of them, had just time enough to support his arm. The elder stepped towards Dmitri Fyodorovich and, having come close to him, knelt before him. Alyosha thought for a moment that he had fallen from weakness, but it was something else. Kneeling in front of Dmitri Fyodorovich, the elder bowed down at his feet with a full, distinct, conscious bow, and even touched the floor with his forehead. Alyosha was so amazed that he failed to support him as he got to his feet. A weak smile barely glimmered on his lips.
"Forgive me! Forgive me, all of you!" he said, bowing on all sides to his guests.

I shared this anecdote from Karamazov with a friend of mine the other day. He felt touched by the story of Zosima, who in the face of utter brokenness, humbled himself beyond reason, and shocked everyone. Zosima's heart broke for the ruin that was both present and laid in waiting for his guests. There are many times when I wish I could imitate his humility.

I seriously cannot explain how profound of an experience reading Dostoevsky has been this summer. So much of what he writes hits me on some deep level, and I feel like I either need to apply it, or it's already happening to me. This has only happened on a surface level with Fitzgerald's writings, and on a life changing level with the gospels. Fyodor falls closer to the latter.

Where have you been all my life? Part 2

2009-07-28T10:56:00.007-04:00

Me and some of the 2008 crew!

So after my Newfoundland adventure, I made my way to Ontario Pioneer Camp (OPC).

(Note: you will be asked for a financial gift later on – be prepared)

(Also, I forgot to take pictures, so I can only share stories)

OPC has been a home away from home to me for the past four summers, though this summer was a bit different. Instead of going up in an official capacity, I was helping with the Leaders In Training program in a behind-the-scenes way. I helped set up rooms in the evenings for the interactive “Faithfully Improvising the Christian Story” teaching sessions in the mornings, and helped run audio/video on some mornings (I was working with my new supervisor Nicky who was one of the teachers); I filled in for small group leaders on their days off by sitting in on small group discussions and room groups before the LITs went to bed; I ran a couple sessions on understanding World Religions and a crash course in Church history and our Christian family tree; as well, there were a plethora of errands to do in town, and I often went.

I absolutely love serving the staff and campers of this program, especially because I believe so much in what’s taking place. Teenagers are seeing their understandings of faith stretched and grown as many people give up their summers to care for and mentor them. Many who have never heard of the Kingdom of God get their first glimpse and are transformed. Some LITs began to wonder what it would look like for a divided body of Christ to one day be restored. Others began to see new dreams form around what it means to care for people in their high schools - wondering aloud where their gifts and their communities needs intersect.

An unfortunate tendency amidst the busyness of life is that many dreams that I feel God has laid on my heart get lost in the clutter, so I was excited to see some of my own Kingdom dreams rekindled while at OPC. Some of them are directly tied to Inter-Varsity’s goal of graduating Extraordinary Kingdom Leaders – many of whom I interacted with at LIT. Others were around developing intentional living environments in which life together is celebrated, and the gospel can be lived out amongst those who cherish it and those who have never known it. I’m glad I got a chance to introduce teenagers to faithful improvisers life Henri Nouwen and Jean Vanier, and that those introductions were a catalyst for much inside of me.

So here’s where I am after reflecting upon my time at camp:

I was unable to commit to an actual position at camp this summer because my own funding is not fully in place, which would free me up to partner more with camp (I’ve raised well over half of my budget, but was still short). It was sort of a fluke that I was able to go for a week. Though I am incredibly grateful for that week, it was difficult not being able to be around for more time, and though I enjoyed filling in where needed, I really missed being able to connect more with LITs in ways that official roles allow. This is not a sob story. Instead, I feel more dedicated than ever to develop my support base so that I can commit more time to developing kingdom leaders on campus throughout the year, and at camp in the summers. This excites me, especially because this work/calling/vocation/desire is so closely linked with who I feel God has made me to be!

So don’t be surprised if you hear from me in the upcoming weeks and months about partnering with this ministry! Or if this post compels you, you can donate here!

God is good. Oh so good.

Peace,

Dave

Where have you been all my life? Part 1

2009-07-26T16:12:00.008-04:00

And by that, I mean...

You might be wondering about where I've been recently. July has been a quiet month on the blog front; however, the month has been extremely busy and exciting!

I spent close to a week in Newfoundland at a friend's wedding, and the spent a couple of days travelling around the island. Great province!

I flew in and got my hotel room at 2am on a Friday morning, and within 7 hours was on my way up Gros Morne Mountain. I have now climbed 2 mountains in my life: Grouse Mountain in B.C., and Gros Morne Mountain in Newfoundland. The wedding the next day was fun to film (my weekend occupation), and the week after was filled with tons of sight seeing around the province.

Some of the highlights:

Having the captain of the whale/iceberg sighting ship get scared by the humpback whale that surfaced beside us.

Getting my picture taken with an iceberg that looks like it's flipping the bird.

Exploring my Viking side.

Exploring modes of Viking communication.

Finding the small town where I'm going to hide one day and write my great Canadian novel.

All in all, it was a fantastic-though-brief vacation, and I can only hope I get to go back and explore the province even more some day soon. I flew home to Toronto and was in my home at 10:30pm Wednesday night, started laundry, went to sleep at midnight, woke up at 7am, had a breakfast meeting at 8am, then finished laundry and packed my bags and left for Ontario Pioneer Camp at 10:30am.

Stay tuned for the second part of my update!
Peace,
Dave

Fault One: Not Knowing The Official Four Square Rules

2009-07-24T20:36:00.003-04:00

Fault two: not liking Four Square...

You're Out!

Alright, seriously, check out this website. This man featured below is a World Champion. Four Square is pretty much the greatest sport invented.

Take a Break...

2009-07-07T10:08:00.001-04:00

...and watch this in full screen mode.

I love birds.

JCVD (bad dubbing meets art cinema)

2009-06-30T14:57:00.003-04:00

When our house signed up for phone/internet/cable recently, we received some free "on demand" rentals - one of which we used last night to watch JCVD. I'm not sure we would have gone out of our way to rent it, but at least with a free rental you can take a risk. I won't lie though, I have not-so-secretly wanted to watch this film since I first saw the trailer, and I heard it got good reviews at TIFF.

So we watched, and to my surprise I only had one major complaint: our on demand provider only offered a dubbed version. I will say this once and for all:

To me, there is nothing I hate more in the cinematic world than a dubbed film. Give me subtitles or give me nothing.

It wasn't the best film I've seen (it wasn't supposed to be), but it was more than expected. When you thought it would be stunts and action, it was quiet introspection on the ugly side of international fame and glory. When you thought it was quiet and morose, it sandwiches you with offbeat and inglorious action. I will give Van Damme credit - he managed to poke fun at his entire canon, spoof himself, and pull off his greatest acting effort in... well... ever.

Amidst the slow moving chaos of the film, Van Damme is elevated above set - out of scene and in front of the camera - and gives a fantastic monologue on all the roads his life has taken, and the different realms of brokenness each led to. He acknowledges that this is a film, and the reason we're watching is because of his former stardom, and his crash and burn. For a moment I thought I was watching Liv Ullman's Alma in Bergman's Vargtimmen - speaking beyond the scope of the camera.

Here's something I never thought I would write: Van Damme was moving and poignant as he spoke about how he became addicted to drugs (because he loved a woman who did them), and how much he's lost to women and multiple marriages (each one took a different part of him). I'll let others decide if he's waxing biographical or hamming it up for the lens.

I think the following people would enjoy this film:
1. Andrew Chambers, Lars Janssen, and Mark Wierzbicki (ol' Central folk).
2. Jeff Biggs
3. Anyone who enjoys film for film's sake.

Here's something else I never thought I would write: a blog post about Jean Claude Van Damme.

Wim Wenders on God

2009-06-25T17:15:00.002-04:00

"I have been away from God for a large part of my life, so I remember his absence. No, that’s the wrong way to say it. He wasn’t absent, I was. I had gone into exile of my own free will. I meandered through all sorts of philosophies, surrogate enlightenments, adventures of the mind, socialism, existentialism, psychoanalysis (another ersatz religion). Some of these I won’t deny or badmouth. I’m happy to have been there—and back."

Check out his fantastic article on belief here.

Exodus sounds way cooler than "These Are The Names…"

2009-06-25T12:44:00.004-04:00

On to book two of the summer challenge: Exodus. Here are some reflections.

Much like many of the scenes in Genesis, I think the whole escape/deliverance from Egypt would make for a spectacular film (Prince of Egypt = watered down for kids; The Ten Commandments = admittedly more of an anti-communist/pro-American agenda than an accurate one). Interacting with all the murdering, slaughtering, and pestilence makes me openly wonder if we get this right by watering it down for children. Should we not let kids read it until they’re older, or tell them what the text is really saying? That will be a conversation I’ll save until I’m a papa I guess.

Alright, so I’m sucked into the story at the beginning because it’s all being masterfully told when lined up with Genesis. Joseph does some great things while in Egypt, but his consolidation of all the land for Pharaoh sets up some power struggles generations later (slavery). It’s bad times for the Hebrews, even though they keep growing and growing and growing in size, like the stars in the sky (cough cough, Abe). By the time they leave, I’m thinking this is some pretty epic story telling.

THEN I get to the laws. The ten commandments serve as a good refresher, but then I start reading into some of the later laws and man I was getting angry, frustrated, and down right irritated. Slaves are still allowed, and have little rights. Women have little rights and are often used as vessels for growing a man’s family/workforce. Gross. Patriarchy is reigning supreme, and it’s unsettling. Once again, does anyone remember the beginning of Genesis? Also, the way the law is dictated, it sometimes seems like the line between God and human commanding gets blurred. It’s unsettling because this stuff is pretty foundational to many people’s beliefs, and I’m not enjoying the read.

BUT, I remind myself, I need to look at these laws through the lens of what the rest of the world was like. In a polytheistic world where innumerable gods means innumerable views of ethics, morality, justice, a law is being set up that – though many parts make 21st century Dave cringe, it probably would have been freeing to Hebrews hearing it. One God is laying it down in ways that show up the other nations and their god-kings.

So while there is slavery still, freedom is granted after six years penalty free. So while there is patriarchy still, a man can’t forsake his wife of old for the next desirable wife he takes on (On this note, while polygamy seems permitted here, there has yet to be an example of a polygamous context that sees healthy relationship [Is there ever?]. One man + one woman = one flesh; one man + many women = hatred, resentment, deceit, jealousy, etc.). So while putting people to death is allowed, a measure of justice is produced that introduces consequences into society. It’s not the ideal, but lets remember that we keep choosing out of the ideal, so this seems to be the band aid solution until something brings the ideal back to the forefront.

Perhaps 21st century B.C.E. Dave would love this law (is it 21st B.C.E.? I don’t know), but I’m uneasy if it remained as is.

If you are an engineer, you might enjoy the final part of book with all the instructions on what to build. For me, it was tedious and undesirable to read. Except the narrative gem in chapter 35 on vision, willingness, and generosity.

Oh yes, I almost forgot. While Moses got the tablets on the mountain, the people made a golden calf (reverting back to their polytheistic ways again), and Moses leads a group of people on a slaughtering purge of the unfaithful. Brothers kill brothers. Lots of blood. Thousands die.

But seriously, things are looking better…

In the beginning, there was Genesis

2009-06-22T23:19:00.004-04:00

I've just begun a journey into the depths of Hebrew scriptures today, as I endeavour to read the entire Hebrew Bible/Old Testament/whatever you may want to call it, this summer. Today I started and finished Genesis. I've studied parts of Genesis before, but today's reading was more to soak in the bigger story rather than glean all the intricacies (for that in itself could take an entire summer). Now I'm not going to commit to writing a blog for every book that I read, but I thought today's reading was worthy of reflection for the following reason: Anyone who thinks the bible isn't scandalous is ridiculous, and really should give this a read before you jump to such conclusions. Here were some interesting things I read about that would make the critical theorists cringe, the bible-thumpers ponder, and the puritans blush:

1. The beginning of the story, with multiple creation stories, sets the scene for created intent; a created intent that does not praise patriarchy or male headship, but equality. Yes, I'm saying that the foundation of Judeo-Christian belief is in equality being inherent to a good creation as it is intended to be. It actually seems like a really good setup.

2. God is first introduced as a plurality, made manifest singularly.

3. God promises a lot to people, and very rarely do they believe at first. It usually takes entire life times to fully believe.

4. Murder seems to be everyone's third favourite past time (casualties include Abel; the guy that ticked off Lamech; Hamor, Shechem, and all strong men with them who were recently weakened after being circumcised; Joseph - though this was faked)

5. Deception and trickery seems to be everyone's second favourite past time (everything about Jacob's life; Lot's daughters; all Jacob's son's; Tamar; Joseph's scheme)

6. Sex, sex, and more sex seems to top the priority list - and often not in the best scenarios (familial relationships don't seem to provide boundaries; prostitutes/in-laws/cousins/strangers to town/concubines/servants/multiple wives [oh how they departed from equality quickly]).

7. Similarly, there's a story about a guy who dies because he lets his semen hit the ground rather than fulfill his family duty to conceive with his dead brother's wife.

8. It's amazing how much damage that those two emissaries from God wrought on Sodom and Gomorrah. That would be quite the interesting story to film.

9. Funny how there's a promise for nations to multiply early on, then barrenness sets in for periods and everyone tries to reason their way around it, and lo and behold, the reasoning never works out well and multiplication takes place regardless. Point God...

10. "Reuben... don't you think for a minute that Dad was clueless about you laying with Bilhal. He wasn't impressed then, and he isn't impressed now."

In summary, the story begins with a really really nice setup scene, and then tons and tons of bad sex/violence/deception/conflict enters the picture. And yet, through it all, God still cares for the people, and seems to be trying to teach them something about dependency and belief. I can only imagine how many Christians would be offended with what they saw if a literal interpretation of this was conveyed on film, and how many non-Christians would be intrigued by the story that is far more scandalous and involving than first perceived.

On the loose!

2009-06-16T15:57:00.006-04:00

Isn't this a nice picture? It's me, in all my academic delight, back in fourth year university with my trusted porcelain dog named Dog. What a good dog Dog is.

Some people might find it odd to have a porcelain dog named Dog. Some might laugh or have disdain toward our camaraderie over the years. Some might even think that his presence where ever I live is the lingering result of childhood sentimentalism, in line with the framed picture of ALF that hangs in my hallway today (and was my first garage sale purchase as a child). This last bunch is the closest to the truth.

There is an interesting story behind Dog's appearance in my life. Dog was not a flea market, garage sale, or Value Village purchase that I've kept by my side as an ongoing, long-winded, joke. No, Dog's origin is far more significant.
Dog came into my life as one of the only remaining memories of my great-grandmother after she died. As awkward and peculiar as Dog might look, Dog is a tie

that links me to the part of my family that came from Waterford, Ontario. Dog may be small and frail, but Dog also has a perma-snarl. If anyone knew my great-grandmother, they'd realize why Dog would be a great link to my fading memories of the small, frail, perma-snarly "Great-Grammy Hyde" before she died.

So why am I telling the story of Dog? Well, the night before I left for a mini-vacation last Saturday morning, someone took Dog. Someone thought Dog needed a vacation. That same someone made a blog about Dog's adventures. I miss Dog, and am eagerly awaiting Dog's return - but in the meantime I will be tracking Dog's moves online.

Please visit dogsvacationblog.wordpress.com, and demand Dog's return!

Sincerely,
thedavestonelimited

The Lament of Alyosha

2009-06-12T00:16:00.003-04:00

A couple of days ago I finished reading the part in Karamazov where Alyosha's family has shamed him in front of Zosima, and he is in a state of shock, embarrassment, and utter brokenness. Going in frightened, but with the hope that Zosima will help bring peace and resolution to the family, Alyosha silently watches things unravel and we get the sense that he is devasted. While I read this, I was overwhelmed with sadness for his character.

A few days later I found myself in a heated exchange that was less about me than it was about the brokenness that inhabits our world (side note: I'm so very glad that the gospel trumps patriarchy, though the process of that truth being lived out often seems arduous). In the context the discussion took place, so many of the elements and reactions paralleled the Karamazov's descent into futher brokenness, and I ended up finding myself playing Alyosha. Silently I listened to heated words echoing a dining room, and descended lower and lower into the sadness that marked each opinion. I was being attentive (see earlier post), and the story I kept hearing was heartwrenching. The story is steeped in so much pain, and in all honesty, if there was no gospel to cling to then the arduous road would seem pointless. It is at times like these that, though many tune out when I talk of God, or condescendingly balk at my belief in the resurrection of Christ, I am ever greatful for God's love, God's intent, and God's good news - even when it's hard to see.

There are days in which the hope of God and his kingdom is abundant and apparent. There are days where it seems so far off. There are days when Ecclesiastes does not do justice. Then there are days when you read Dostoevsky, and Dostoevsky reads you.

Marked by a community.

2009-06-08T09:43:00.004-04:00

I had a great time in Hamilton spending time with my church community this weekend! Most of Saturday was spent at a going away party for me and two other friends from the church, and it felt like a fun-filled family reunion of sorts. The youth that I worked with all year were there and playing football in the afternoon (more on that later), while the adults were BBQ'in and conversing over a variety of cold beverages. Rather than go into a whole speech about how great it was to see Christians enjoying each other's company with a glass of wine or a beer in hand, and it not being taboo, I'll say that glimpses of the kingdom of God, in it's glorious fellowship and relationship, were present that day. Then, of course, the evening ended with another glorious event - the Red Wings win 5-0! - but I won't pour too much salt into that wound for Pens fans.

Sunday started by being chauffered to church (there's a reason for this), enjoying a really nice final service with my church family, followed by an afternoon of bocce ball, and a final small group meeting for the young adults in the evening. All in all it was a fantastic way to end my time at St. John's, and I can't say enough how grateful I am for the people I've met, the hospitality I've felt, and the kingdom experiences I've had there. Transitioning from this community will be extremely difficult, but I feel sent in a very supportive way by them.

Okay, now back to that football game. It was an epic game, the reprecussions of which are still being experienced today. Myself, Jeff (the other male youth leader), and the youth girls decided to take on the youth guys in a game of touch football. The guys came out to an early lead, but I was determined not to let that last too long. On one glorious play, I tracked the eyes of their young quarterback and prepared myself to pick off his faux-Hail-Mary pass. The pass was launched. My eyes never left the ball. I beelined it to the side of the endzone, threw my two hands up in the air, and picked off the football before anyone else had the chance. Immediately I experienced the consequences of running without being aware of the ground around, and collided with a large wooden lawn chair (that had acted as a marker of the endzone). Impact number one took my feet out and propelled me forward. Impact number two was when my face collided with large wooden lawn chair number two. At this point the ball fell helplessly from my hands, and many gasps were heard from the field and from the spectators.

"Wow, that really smarts," I thought as I picked myself up. People came looking to see blood and tears, but I wiped myself off and said I was fine, and returned to play. Then Jeff told me I was bleeding from my mouth, so I decided to rinse my mouth out and then return to the game. While inside the house, I noticed a rather large hole inside my lip where my upper canine tooth very obviously punctured. There was a new, loose, inner lip flap that was sore and bleeding a bit, but it didn't bother me. I returned to play, only to find I had been replaced by a father of one of the youth, so I gladly sat out and allowed my sore body to recover, and for my open wound in my mouth to be 'sterilized' with some red wine (always a good choice).

About 30 minutes later, while chatting with Jeff again over some food, he noticed that there was blood underneath my moustache. It is at this point that we discover that not only did my canine tooth take a chunk of my inner lip out, but it in fact went right through my lip upon impact. Yes, my tooth went right through my lip. The exit wound was luckily small, so it scabbed over and no stitches were needed.

About 15 minutes after that, I mentioned that my feet were starting to get sore. I looked down and saw that my right foot was cut up, and my left foot had ballooned into a purple, swelled-up mass. I had honestly not noticed until that point, and immediately felt the mobility of my left foot rapidly decreasing. Much was made of the injury by all around, with various suggestions on how to treat it. I ended up icing the foot for two hours, and then eventually had it taped up. I would say that the flexibility and mobility of the foot was down to 10% without pain.

About 10 minutes after first noticing the foot, we all realized that I also had cut my forehead in the collision, and so now there is also a minor scab on my forehead near the hairline.

But back to the lip. I became freakshow entertainment for all the youth, as they asked to come see the gaping hole inside my mouth. Many pictures were taken, and many disgusted faces were made.

Again to the foot. I ended up being chauffered to my friends home that evening, and after sleeping that night, woke up with my foot feeling much much better. I would say that flexibility and mobility was back up to 40-50% without pain. After church I was even able to spend the afternoon playing bocce ball, followed by walking around downtown Hamilton, followed by helping my new housemate Fil move his old BBQ down two incredibly long and steep flights of stairs to bring back to Toronto that night. Flexibility went up to about 60% by the end of the night. So I took the tape job off and went to bed.

Right now, I am writing from my bed, with a newly tensored foot after waking up in pain. I think I overexerted myself yesterday and am now paying the consequences. Oh well. It makes for a good story, and tangible proof of the way I've been marked by this Hamilton community I've come to care for so much.

First Night in Toronto!

2009-06-02T15:57:00.003-04:00

Here's what happened a couple of nights ago, on my first night in Toronto.

1. Went to the CN Tower for dinner, despite my intense fear of heights.
2. Watched a thunderstorm pass, and then watched the sunset from the top.
3. Had the Mac staff team offer to buy me Lost Season 5 on DVD if I would lay down on the glass floor face down and look for 5 seconds.
4. Unable to follow through on the offer, but was walked backwards on to the floor by Pete.
5. Went home, changed my pants, and watched Detroit win game one of the Stanley Cup.

My Last Night in Hamilton!

2009-05-29T23:22:00.003-04:00

Here are the highlights of my last official night in Hamilton:
1. Watching the Blue Jays end their losing streak
2. Watching the 2nd half of the great Stallone flick "Cobra"
3. Watching Walter Gretzky on the Hour
4. Drinking lots of water and trying to beat a cold that keeps trying to get the best of me.

I will miss Hamilton.

Dreamfast

2009-05-18T14:54:00.007-04:00

...is either:
i) the desire to jam as many dreams as possible into a nap.
ii) a morning meal made out of dreams/visions/nightmares, like something from Waking Life.
iii) a disciplined fast of one's dreaming capabilities.

In my case, the third option is the one I'm speaking out of these days. Let me share with you why.

As many people know, I was helping lead an urban partnership in Hamilton last week, in which students spent a week in urban environments hearing and seeing stories of how the kingdom is being lived out in this context. There was an active element to it as we helped serve meals at a drop in, ran a clothing give away, ran after school programs in low-income neighbourhoods, and so forth.

While many of the students were deeply affected by these experiences, for me the most moving moment was hearing a sermon at one of the churches we partnered with. It was the Mother's Day service at this church, but rather than share a message filled with platitudes and exaltations toward the women in our lives, the pastor at this church spoke out of the story of Moses' mother, as she was forced to give up her beloved son. It was a story of pain and brokenness. At the end of the sermon, the pastor asked everyone to pray for mothers who are forced to give up their children, for mothers who take in others' children, and, here's the controversial part, for the Children's Aid Society workers who are often vilified in this community. It was a stunning comment in that community

Afterwards, when chatting with the pastor, he told me he had been crying while prepping the sermon and fighting back tears while speaking, because in that last week there had been a mother in the community who had had her children taken from her for the final time; they were being put up for adoption. This was the wind-knocked-out-of-you-moment of the week for me. What I came to realize is that this man knew his community, and knew them well. In love he stepped down into their pain, and then invited them into something greater, something freeing: forgiveness and love.

I am still unpacking the significance of this interaction, but its applicability became abundantly apparent to me a bit later on. For those who know me, they know I spend the majority of my time dreaming and thinking about big ideas. Unfortunately, I have noticed that because my mind switches into dream-mode at a word's notice, I can often zone out in conversation with someone, and miss out on the experience that is taking place right in front of me. It's rude and offensive to the person who is being vulnerable and open in front of me. What's more unfortunate is that I'm pretty sure this dynamic has shaped the majority of my stay in Hamilton.

Twin this experience with a large measure of anxiety I've had recently in not being able to know what is going to happen next as I move to Toronto. I've found myself dreaming about what it might be like, but this always seems fruitless because those dreams have nothing to root themselves in. I'm not in Toronto yet. The place is still a mystery to me.

So, I've decided to fast from dreaming for a while. I'm going to stop letting my mind run loose, and I'm going to open my ears so I can listen to what's happening in Toronto, what's happening in people's lives, and get to know the city and people who will become a part of my new home. I am going to be attentive. Perhaps when I start to actually know the people and the city, I'll be able to love them in their brokenness, and love them into something greater. I can only hope that others will get to know me and extend the same. Once I know the story, then the dreaming will return, and I hope and believe that those dreams will far surpass the ones I'm laying down.

Sermonizing and Reading List

2009-05-11T23:07:00.002-04:00

During the short break that I have while doing laundry this week, I thought I'd update.
Here's the scoop thus far for the Urban Partnership:
-great experiences in very different contexts.
-I love Hamilton and all the hope and promise that is hidden only to be revealed (if you go looking for it).
-Heard one of the most moving sermon's of my life on Sunday morning, and I'll most definitely be referencing it as a part of my sermon this upcoming Sunday.

And now for something COMPLETELY different.

Here's my current reading list for the upcoming spring/summer season:
- finish Surprised by Hope by N.T. Wright
- The Resurrection of the Son of God by N.T. Wright
- The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky (it's about time)
- The Crack Up by F. Scott Fitzgerald (his notebooks on writing - just picked it up 2 weeks ago!)

Unclean! Unclean!

2009-05-04T15:53:00.003-04:00

It's midway through the week at city/script, and I'm using a small chunk of time off in the afternoon to write a little update. I have a small chunk of time off because I have gotten really sick over the past day and a half, and I took the afternoon off to rest so I could be ready to teach again tonight. My teaching times have gone really well so far, and I dryly told the group that I was glad I got sick at this point in time because we've just finished studying the part where Jesus heals the leper and the paralytic, so now I know what to do. Both of these stories have come to life in my sickness, as I have openly come to God expressing my desire to be healed, and submitting that "If he wills, I can be clean", and in having the faith of many people take me to Jesus in prayer, expecting him to heal me. Though this may sound completely strange, while I was in the washroom waiting to purge myself of uncleanliness (use your imagination), I had multiple people in the washroom praying for me. Very weird experience, but also very incredible and moving.

So here's where I am now. I never did throw up, though I spent two hours in front of a toilet bowl thinking I would. I've determined that I've got a pretty bad chest cold, with a lot of phlegm in my heavy chest. BUT, as gross as it may sound, things are moving, and the dark heavy stuff is coming out. I think this is incredible because usually it takes days or a week to get to that stuff. My mom always told me once you start getting the dark stuff out, you know you're nearing the end. So perhaps I am getting healed, and prayer is working. Medicine rarely has a strong effect on me, so I'm chalking it up to God's faithfulness to heal that is allowing me to be clear headed right now as I write this. I believe God has been faithful because I went to him believing he could heal me, and I had a pretty rad community of people who felt compelled out of love, and their experience with scripture this week, to lift me up in prayer. Good things are happening.

Alright, tonight we're studying Jesus calming the sea, and the his encounter with Legion. Should be fun! Please pray that I continue to have enough energy to lead the study!

May I Please Have Strength to Get Through May

2009-05-01T11:28:00.004-04:00

The blog might be a bit quieter over the next few weeks, for numerous reasons. First off, I'm leaving in roughly 30 minutes for IVCF's annual city/script week long event! This year I get the opportunity to co-teach the first half of the Gospel of Mark, and I'm ridiculously excited to do this. Ever since my first city/script experience, Mark has been one of my favourite, if not the favourite, gospel of choice. Not that the other ones are lesser, but Mark resonates in ways others haven't. This was the place in which I saw parts of my life transformed, and one of the main reasons I am doing what I'm doing today on campuses. It'll be interesting to see how a new bunch of students responds this time around...

Secondly, mere hours after city/script is over, I will be co-leading the first annual Urban Partnership in Hamilton! I'm excited that my final involvement with the McMaster community will be this week long mission. This has been a dream in the works since before I was involved at McMaster, and the growing excitement of how great it would be to get students to apply what their learning in scripture in an urban context is finally coming to fruition.

Thirdly, when I return from the Urban Partnership I will be preaching at my church for most likely the final time before I move to Toronto. I've got my sermon half done (that half being ideas in my head), so there will be a fair amount of work to do once these two weeks are up and I find myself with 24 hours left before I speak.

Fourthly, the Tuesday after I am helping organize a bachelor party for my good friend Dan.

Fifthly, I am in Dan's wedding the following weekend.

Sixthly, I am going to be in Brantford speaking to my old World Religions class in high school.

Now I must run. See you all later on in the month.

Acts 2:45

2009-04-27T19:14:00.003-04:00

...and they sold their possessions and goods and distributed them to all, as any had need...

In trying to align myself with the sharing=caring tendencies of the early church (and because I'm moving out and don't need it anymore), I'm giving away my 20" TV to whoever wants it and is willing to swing by to pick it up before Thursday.

In Peace,
Dave

This one makes the list

2009-04-22T16:37:00.004-04:00

My friend Deb (at left) wrote recently about a moving experience while listening to a certain song in her car (much like Bob moved me earlier this week). Today, while I was reflecting and writing about all the "love-talk" in 1 John, I was listening to the ol' iPod and found myself moved not only by music I was listening to, but the words I was reading and writing about. I was being bombarded by beauty.

If I compiled a list of some of the most beautiful music in the world, this would be near the top, and I'm really thankful that it came over my headphone speakers this afternoon.

I'm curious to know what songs move other people in the same way.

Jesus is an Elephant!

2009-04-21T10:42:00.003-04:00

Click here to watch Bart Ehrman vs. Stephen Colbert, Part 2. I always love when Ehrman is on the show, because Colbert always seems to reveal something profound about faith. This time around he sums up the synoptic problem by likening Jesus to an elephant. It's actually quite genius.

I never forget to blog... most of the time.

2009-04-21T10:01:00.007-04:00

If you ever get the chance to talk to my friend Chris, your conversation will very likely involve one of the following:
a) discussion on the desert fathers
b) discussion of Trey Anastasio or Bob Dylan
c) news reports from his side of the kingdom

I always enjoy a good chat with Chris, and this past summer I remember one particular conversation in which he shared with me the awesomeness that was Bob Dylan's "Most Of The Time". I listened to what Chris had to say, thought, "Ok Chris, I believe you that the song is probably very good", and unfortunately never checked it out myself.

That all changed yesterday. While listening to CBC Radio 2 in the car, Most Of The Time came on, and soundtracked my slow drive down King St. W. It was awesome. I shared my experience with Chris, and his emailed response was like so:

..."Most of the Time" is an amazing song. I love how he makes all those absolute statements, and then admits at the end of each string, that they are only true most of the time....

This is some fan made video on youtube. The video is lame, so I suggest pressing play, and then minimizing the window so you can just listen.

This thing is a tapestry; a work of art.

2009-04-12T21:42:00.006-04:00

I've been trying unsuccessfully to put some thoughts into words right now, and it's not going well. I can't find the right way to word it, so I'll just try to organize my verbal vomit here:

-I went to the church of my childhood this morning. It was a strangely foreign and familiar place to me.
-I'm so used to 15 minute homilies that the 7 point sermon using 6 different translations was a little hard to swallow.
-I really love that the body of Christ NEEDS crazy charismatics, timid liturgy lovers, devout monks and nuns, and people who struggle to actually believe in Christ in order to actually exist.
-I get a little frustrated when people quit church because of all its problems. There are lots and lots of problems, and lots and lots of idiots, but shouldn't we embrace the Emilio-Estevez-in-mighty-ducks-mantra, "quitters never win, winners never quit"? Also, it's good to remember that we're often the problem and we're also often the idiots.

-I think the body of Christ is like a giant tapestry or mural with all it's contributing parts. With out all the elements in use it fails as a piece of art. Think Sistine Chapel, but with half of it whitewashed.
-Too many people view church as a commodity that can be consumed. "I try to go somewhere where I can be fed." Grow up, grow a pair, and get involved. It is sad how much I feel like I resemble a grade 9 guidance counsellor here (No offence Mr. O'Connor - you were wise beyond your years).
-This body of Christ we get to be a part of is mighty interesting. Thinking of death and resurrection this weekend makes me wonder what the resurrected body will look like. Fascinating.
-Finally, we're so bogged down by bad news these days that we don't know how to receive good news. Sure resurrection sounds far fetched, but it's good news. Is it not the least bit weird that we'd rather not believe in some good news like the resurrection than accept it as the gift that it is?

Quarter Century Man

2009-04-05T15:21:00.004-04:00

This is a blurry picture of a very elusive figure from my hometown (at left). You won't see his face in many pictures because he doesn't like having it taken, but this picture is a pretty good summary of who he is through and through: a servant. He will always be found hard at work helping someone or some cause out (here he's helping build a Christmas float for a parade), but shies away whenever someone wants to commend him. He's a selfless person if I ever met one. He refereed hockey for me throughout my childhood even though he could barely skate - because nobody else would get up at 4:30 on a Saturday morning. Growing older, he was an example for me of subtle servant leadership, and he often got burned by those whose service was more pronounced. He was not in the popular crowd to say the least, and on many occasions he was flat out ignored by a certain church pastor who was more concerned with relating to the refined folk than to the common folk (and unabashedly common folk he was!). Still, despite all this he continued (and continues) to serve others. He'll be the first to tell you he's the farthest thing from being perfect, but will also be the first to get his hands dirty, the first to call if you're hurt, the first to shovel your snow if you're unable, and the first to pray for you when you're in need.

Today is my birthday, and for about the last 17 years Dave Simons has called me to wish me a happy birthday on this day. I think it is the best part about getting older. Today I am a quarter century man, and much of who I am is shaped by Dave's example.

A Brief Interlude of Art in the Midst of Heavy Posts

2009-03-29T12:35:00.004-04:00

The last couple of posts have been heavies. No lie. So here's a slight change of pace with some recommendations from the realm of film, music, and literature.

1. French Cinema
The two of the best films I've watched so far this year have been from our friends in France. The Diving Bell And The Butterfly is utterly beautiful, and I challenge anyone to not be inspired to create after watching it. Tell No One has everything a good thriller could ask for: Intriguing plot with seemingly endless twists, excellent cinematography, incredible acting, and the feeling that it would be even better with a second viewing.

2. Canada, Iceland, and Compilations
I just purchased the new Constantines album this week, and I'm kicking myself for not getting it earlier. Our Age seems to be the best cut on the disc, and if you buy it on iTunes now, you can get an additional EP with alternate versions of some of their old and new songs (it's 5.99 right now!). As well, Sigur Ros got roped into a Take Away Show, and the results are awesome.

Finally, my roommate bought the Dark Was The Night double disc compilation, and it's been playing non-stop at our place ever since. Please, please, please give it a listen! Very, very good!

3. Books to Read
I haven't been reading many books lately. I've just been working on my own stories as of late. I guess I'll recommend that you read my stories one day when they get published.

Alright, I'm gone for a week of new staff training. Take these recommendations and run with them.