Reverend Linda Yates Page

To Jack Layton: Just One More Impossible Thing, Please

There has been a lot of speculation in the last months about what Jack Layton knew about his cancer and when he knew it. Lately, physicians have been weighing in saying they suspected from the moment of his hip break that Jack had incurable metastatic prostate cancer. They aren’t the only ones. Any clergy who has provided end of life care to parishioners dying of cancer had the same questions. Survivors of cancer, particularly breast and prostate, wondered as well. I suspect we all took very deep breaths and silently uttered prayers when news of Jack’s “exercise” induced hip fracture was announced. We knew. But we hoped with Jack, because that is what you do when the cancer landscape has been home to you and those you love. You hope. Then when Jack appeared, gaunt and wasting to announce he was stepping down (but would be back in the fall) because he was dealing with a “new” cancer. I knew that my hope in Jack was not going to see the light of day. Not because he was dying as he surely was. My hope had been that Jack would show us how to die by claiming it out loud.

Jack Layton

Perhaps this is unfair to ask of a man who gave his life, literally, for his party and his country. Those of us who have lived with cancer know the relationship between extreme stress and the progression of cancer. It functions like gasoline to the engine of metastases. Jack really did do the impossible and paid for it with a shortened lifespan. There is no question that he offered his very self for the benefit of his country. If I could have asked one more thing of him, it is that he declare that he was dying at that press conference, that death is an inevitable part of life, and that he wished to therefore spend his final months with his family and friends. It was not to be.

Leading the way to death acceptance is important. A lot is at stake. Jack is a Boomer. Boomers have a lot of dying to do. Yet, they are a generation who are convinced they never will, that they deserve better and that the only real “hope” worth speaking about is in “not” dying. This should frighten all Canadians. If Boomers do not get a grip on this, they will demand (and vote accordingly) that all health care dollars be spent on delaying death for them. No expense guaranteeing an extra day or two would be too high.

So, I wish Jack could have said to them, “I am dying. You will die. The hope I have now is to die a meaningful, comfortable death.” Jack may have been in acute denial. In our work as ministers to the dying, we see this often enough. This frequently results in unnecessary post-death trauma. Olivia’s statement in a CBC interview that she was surprised when he died might support the theory that Jack was in denial. Maybe some kind of hopeful, perpetual denial mechanism is needed when you take on the leadership of an underdog party and carry it through to official opposition status. It worked for Jack for so long. If only he could have turned if off enough to lead us in his dying.

Perhaps this is an unreasonable expectation. Do political leaders have the right to their own medical information? Do they have the right to die privately? I feel very ambivalent about this. In one sense, to be the leader of a political party is to be a public figure that will die a public death. In many ways death is a public act for all of us, acknowledged by the state through a variety of legal mechanisms. However, Jack had a state funeral. His death was very public. But should his dying be? Our expectation of that may hinge on the party characteristics promoted by the NDP itself. It is a party for the people, all warm, orangey and waiting to be intimately involved with us. Jack would take our call. We felt that; accessible at all times to all people. Stephen Harper? We would not expect a man who shakes hands with his child on the first day of school to return our call. This is a man and a party whose persona is that of authoritative, emotionally frigid “Dad.” Believe me, if there is dying to be done for these guys, there is no less denial but “hope” is a word not often uttered. Dying becomes a process rife with anger and withdrawal. At any rate, the public would not assume they had a part in it or even a right to speculate about who knew what when.

Demographics make one thing undeniable. There is lots of dying to be done in Canada. Most of the dying will happen at home, in bedrooms. While I fervently hope that public leaders could lead us in their dying, I am also remembering the words of Pierre Elliot Trudeau. Perhaps the nation does not belong in these bedrooms either.

Blessings,
Linda

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Minister’s Musings: December 2010.
At first I thought it was odd. Then I was delighted. Now I am deeply honoured and touched by their commitment. When I decided to run the “For the Death of Me” study series which explores theologies of death, I had hoped optimistically that perhaps a half dozen would come. I would run the course if only two or three did because Jesus promises to show up with that minimum enrolment (“where two or three are gathered, there I am also.”) Fourteen came! I could not believe it. Well, I mused, wait until they hear about the work they need to do in order to stay in it. Perhaps half will leave. Despite the readings, the journaling and the required participation in the class discussion, all have stayed and been excellent participants. It is inspiring. You would think that death would be somb

re and sad topic but we sure seem to laugh a lot.

Death is big these days. It should be. It is the one thing we absolutely all have to do and the Boomers are aging. I have observed over the years that it does not seem to matter what you believe about an afterlife, or even that you think there is one in order to have a decent death. What seems to make a difference is that you have taken some time to think and talk about it with others. That is one reason I felt it was important to run the course. There is another.

The course was created at the request of Heather Pittas who died of ovarian cancer. After joining various groups and connecting with counsellors, all which were helpful in their own way, she declared to me one day that what she really sought was a course on death. She told me that I was capable of creating such a course and should do so. I was astonished at both her request and her confidence in me. I certainly did not feel up to the challenge. I told her I would think about it. Heather was an excellent adult educator. Her passion was helping people get through periods of transition like retirement and unemployment. “Is this not the biggest transition a person goes through,” she asked?

Her very life was her family, particularly her daughters Rosie and Anna and her partner Nick. Any course on death would need to include the importance of both realms of her life. I hated to say “no” but how could I craft together a course on such a critically important topic during this vulnerable time in her life? One morning in prayer it came to me that I was ignoring the most important resource, Heather herself.

I returned to see her two weeks after her request and proposed, over a cup of liquorice tea, that we create the course together. I would provide content and exercises. She would provide feedback, suggestions for change and good critical dialogue. Heather had a genius for asking in the gentlest, most encouraging of ways, the big “so what?”

Unfortunately we only got to do work through three sessions. I had mapped out seven. Heather’s cancer progressively worsened and she was unable to concentrate on the material. Nor did she feel the need anymore. Whatever she needed had been worked through. This course was offered in the hope that our work together will bear more fruit. It was Heather’s fervent wish as an educator. As a cancer survivor, a minister and an end-of-life care spiritual care giver, it is mine as well.

One of the participants who is involved in many community groups and initiatives said, “You know, this is one of the wonderful things about church that people take for granted. We offer courses for free that would cost huge amounts elsewhere. Yet, all are welcome. We can do that because we pay collectively for your work and the facilities.” I had not thought about it that way. But I think she is right. Helping people learn to cope with life and death is just one of your many gifts to the world. As we prepare for Christmas, I would just like to say, “Thank you” for that most wonderful of gifts.

Blessings,
Linda

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Minister's Musings: Spring 2010.
I don’t know if it is humility, shyness or just plain old fashioned Canadian modesty. You live out your gospel beliefs in your family, volunteer and work life. I am constantly amazed and delighted. However, so many of you are reluctant to talk about it. Dr. John Fraser is just one example of that. A large article was written in the Chronicle Herald on April 10, 2010 about the compassionate work carried out with the most vulnerable and despised among us at the North End Clinic. He was rightfully called a “local hero,” a term that deeply embarrassed him. What I also know is that he and his partner Maria Jose try as much as possible to ground their work, study and family life in the gospel. Participation in a faith community is a large part of that.

When we come together on Sunday, it is not just to gather, pray, sing, ponder and wrestle with the bible. We understand that the very act of gathering together creates a sacred space where we uniquely experience the presence of God. Jesus says, we don’t need to be many, just a gathering of two or three, in fact. (Matt 18:20) In that gathering we are empowered to go into the world to do the ministry that God has called each and every one of us to. We minister in our work places, our families, our volunteer lives and our recreational lives. Being human, we do it imperfectly. But we do it. Why? Because, gathering together to worship not only empowers us, it compels us.

It has been known for a very long time that folks who are part of a faith community volunteer more, donate more to other charities and are more civically involved. A quick Google search of “churches and neighbourhood” will reveal several articles which demonstrate how the presence of church in local communities offers many benefits and seems to provide social connections, networks and interactions that buffer during difficult times. Princeton University has a centre for the study of youth and religion which sponsors many studies. These consistently show the protective nature of youth and family involvement in religious institutions. Any of the organizations devoted to volunteerism and philanthropy will cite how much religiosity, giving, civic commitment and local social engagement go together. None of this is new information. So imagine my surprise when I did some research for our upcoming SPIRIT Place open house and found that all across North America it is getting increasingly difficult to construct churches due to neighbourhood protests. I was invited to participate in a teleconference this week with 8 other UC ministers who are involved in innovative ministries and redevelopment projects. All of us echoed the same experiences. It seems that we have a three-fold phenomenon happening. We assumed that everyone else in society was in church too and if not, that at least all “outside” of church knew the “good” that we were up to. Meanwhile, the media communication about religious institutions only highlight the extremes of controversy. It is a perfect that is making it difficult to construct religious community of any kind.

So, we have some communicating of our own to do. “Testimony” is not a very popular United Church word or concept but that is what is happening when you talk to someone about, not just the “what” of your good works but the “why.” If you are reading this, the “why” of your good works includes that being faithful to God means loving your neighbour in whatever way you can manage that. So, whether it is serving breakfast to hungry folks, helping people with additions, preserving an ancient naval vessel, helping people with their genealogy, tutoring children or knitting mittens, don’t be shy about the “why.” You do it because God calls you to it and gathering with your church strengthens inspires and spiritually equips you to do it.

Blessings
Linda

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The Cross in the Dumpster; Wisdom in the Streets.
Our reading from Proverbs describes in active terms that aspect of God we know as Holy Wisdom. Holy wisdom is decidedly feminine in imagery. Many scholars feel that it is a remnant, an echo of Goddess worship. Holy Wisdom is also associated with “Ruah” that breathe of God, or the wind of God that blew over Creation. Our Christian story also associates her with the Holy Spirit, that connecting, enlivening, creative aspect of God that propelled and continues to propel Christians gathered together. The book of Proverbs begins with Holy Wisdom, Sophia God. We find Her throughout the entire book. She has something to say, to teach. The trouble is, she can’t get any traction. No one is listening - in the temples, in the places that people usually gather to listen to God. In religious gatherings, religious rituals, and spiritual places – no one is listening; no one is there. She decides to take it to the streets; to the city gates and to the market places where the throngs gather – where people sell there wares. These are the places where political debates happen – where the other women who are selling something people might want – where the prostitutes gather and shout out – this is where Holy Wisdom goes. She shouts out too. It is a remarkable image: Holy Wisdom on the loose. This week I could not see Her – at all. I hope you indulge me as I whine a bit.

I had a difficult week. My computer died at the beginning of it; that meant I had to beg borrow and steal bits and pieces of computer time from other people in order to do the basic minimum of my job. Presbytery was this week. We had some cases of Ministers being anxious and saying unfortunate things. It is just an outcropping of the edge of anxiety that churches everywhere are feeling about the future. We know that the institutional church is finishing up. People are leaving the temples for gatherings in the marketplaces. Wisdom, as Russell Daye would say, is calling for us to dwell in Tent Church. She is calling for something new, something to be set loose. But we can not get a picture of it. Not yet. It is difficult to know what is coming around the corner. To cheer myself up I read the September issue of the United Church Observer. There I learned even more about the collapse of institutional church. Sociologist Reginald Bibby says that in 1984, 20% of teens between the ages of 15-19, self identified as mainline protestant. That has fallen to 5% today. In 1984, 1% of this same age group identified themselves as Muslim. That has risen to 5% today. I am glad that God is moving within the Muslim teen community. However, I was sad about our failure as mainline churches to create a home that teens find engaging and meaningful…Just sad.

Then on Friday morning I was part of a group that tried to gather together some political people to get accurate information about resources available to St. John’s as we move forward on this redevelopment project. Our Municipal Councilor Jennifer Watts showed up as well as our Member of Parliament, Megan Leslie. Our provincial person was not able to make it. That made me sad too. I was sharing with Megan the stats about youth and young adult involvement in a casual conversation and she stated that this is a general civic problem as well. There are many, wonderful youth and young adults active and committed to causes and the common good, but they will not exercise their right to vote. In fact, some will not vote on principle. Sad again, I was. We both agreed, something is happening. It is not bad, there are still just as many good people in the world as there ever were; it is just that it is hard to know what the future will look like – what is around the civic corner.

In terms of St. John’s, I realized the road ahead of us, as we move around in this tent church in the desert is long, and arduous. None of us in ministry have been trained for this particular time in Christian history. There is no map. I believe I was having what is known as a vocational crisis last week. So, on Friday afternoon, I read the scriptures for Sunday again and reflected. That usually inspires me. Instead I read about Holy Wisdom ranting in the streets with no one listening. Where are the people? Why won’t they listen? I read about Peter who recognized who Jesus was and then denied who Jesus was to become. Who do we say that Jesus is these days? I was just sad, sad, and sad. I decided to walk the streets of Bedford with my dog. Maybe Holy Wisdom would give me some inspiration. Fat chance. I gave God a serious talking to as I paced the streets. God, I said, you are going to have to help me. Jesus says to take all things to you in prayer. I need something – some spiritual uplifting, some inspiration. Something big. The cross in the dumpster now resides in the backyard of St John's House on Willow Street.

The cross in the dumpster now resides in the backyard of St John's House on Willow Street.

No minor inspiration, no ambiguous signs; I want a smack-up-the-side-of-head sign. I acknowledge, as I stride, that this is ridiculous, maybe even sacrilegious. Turning the corner, two young teen males, Junior High age, are hauling a very large, worn, wooden cross.

I am so shocked I almost run right past them. I turn back and meet them. They stop their labour. “Um. Hi” I said. “You boys have a big wooden cross here. What is up with that?”
The boy at the head of the cross walking with the cross bar over his shoulder stopped and answered, “We found it sticking out of a dumpster.” “Oh. So you took it out. Can I ask why?” “I’m a Christian.” He replies.

Hardly comprehending that he must be one of the tiny number of Bibby-predicted “self professing” teen Christians in Bedford, I could not respond. Then he added, “Hey, you can’t let a good cross go to waste!” Pausing to collect myself, I manage to say, “Look, “I’m a United Church minister. My name is Linda Yates. What are yours?” Turns out Jacob is the name of the talkative boy holding the top of the cross and the boy holding the bottom of the cross is Andrew. I am still suspicious. They are probably scamming me. Perhaps they are going to take it home and burn it or something. Jacob speculates, “You know, this is heavy, I can see why Jesus needed someone to help him carry it.” He knows the story!! I am talking to a self professing Christian boy who actually knows the story!”

“Well, Jacob and Andrew, what are you going to do with the cross?"
“I don’t know,” Jacob responds, “I was just going to take it home until we could figure something out.” “Well, why don’t you bring it to my house? I can always use a big wooden cross. Tell you what. For your trouble I will give you guys ten dollars, because it is a long way and it is all uphill.”

Two other boys approach. “Hey Jacob” one of them shouts. What are you doing with the cross?” Andrew shouts back, “We were going to bring it to Jacob’s house but now we are bringing it to this lady’s house and she’s giving us ten bucks to do it.” The other boys think this is “cool.” So I give them my address and tell them to explain to my son Matthew what has happened. I continue my walk. I am just stunned by this encounter. I am filled with the love and inspiration of God. I arrive home about an hour later looking forward to inspecting my new, old cross. No cross. I look everywhere and then realize that is has not been delivered. Young people – just can’t follow through, I grouse to my self. More than that - I am locked out. My son has taken the car and very sensibly secured the house by locking all the doors. I am just, sad, sad, sad. Maybe God is torturing me, like Job. Matthew comes home and asks me why I appear so sad. I explain that God is torturing me like Job. Matthew responds that if there is a God who is personally involved in people’s lives, He probably has better things to do than torture me. Good wisdom, that. Matthew asks what has happened to make me think such things. I look at him and realize that it is just too much work to tell the whole story. I am too tired and too discouraged. Who would believe it anyway? Best to let it just slide. As we are talking, the door bell rings, the dogs go mad and Sarah, Matt’s partner, comes to find me. “Um, there are two boys with a very large cross out there. Do you know anything about that?”

I rush to the door. Jacob bows his head a little. “I know Jesus carried it the whole way,” he says, “But my Dad has a pick up truck.” I thank them both and give them fifteen dollars. But then, I stop them. I call them back to the porch. Someone has done a good job of teaching these boys the faith and the story. Where did they go to church, I ask them? Jacob says he had checked out the “Catholics, the United and the Baptists” and still had not figured out where he wanted to be. Andrew says most of the time he is just Catholic. Jacob then says “God bless, and they left in his Dad’s truck. I tell them to keep trying to find a place in a church they can feel comfortable with.

Two self identifying Christian boys of about 13 years of age, carrying a large, rugged wooden cross through the streets of Bedford. They recognized the symbol, THE SYMBOL of our faith, sticking out of a dumpster and thought it just wasn’t right. They went through the trouble of dragging it out, took the risk of ridicule in the streets from their peers and planned to bring it “home” for safe keeping. They took the time to talk to a cranky, middle aged United Church minister questioning where God is in the midst of all the radical change in our world. Holy Wisdom and an old rugged Cross in the hands of a boy who church surfs and knows the Christian story. As long as there is a child whose connection with a faith community enables them to look at a cross and recognize a call from God, we will always be called to gather together to tell the old, old stories and to create some new, new ones. I stared at that cross a lot this weekend. Funny how when you stare at an old wooden cross delivered to your house by two young teenage boys, your views change about what you think God can do and what happens in church despite your own semi-adequate skills and abilities.

Holy Wisdom left the Temple and went into the streets. She cried out at the city gates and in the city centre. People gathered round her. You have already heard her and you answered. You would not be here this day if you did not. More than that, You ARE her. You are Holy Wisdom in your workplaces and in your home life when you live out your faith, when you talk about your faith, when you teach your children about God and when your children teach you about God. Holy Wisdom has spoken. Holy Wisdom is speaking. As I stared at this cross all weekend, I realized that the collapse of institutions is not a new story. If there is one constant in the Bible, it is this. The institutions, the governments, the human systems that we create, sooner or later, change or fall. The Temple collapsed, the Babylonian Empire Collapsed and the Roman Empire collapsed. The Protestant Reformation radically changed what was known as institutional church four hundred years ago. The morphing and changing of institutions happens and should always happen. The Bible tells us so. Our responsibility is to gather together in the midst of it all, to worship, to care, to tell the stories of our faith. We will do that in all times and all places in new forms and in old. What is emerging in these new times both for our national United Church and for St. John’s? We don’t know. Maybe we don’t need to know. We can’t know what is around the next corner as we walk along. Maybe that is okay. Maybe as we move forward, we just need to listen for Holy Wisdom crying out in the streets. Sometimes, her voice sounds like a thirteen year old boy saying matter-of-factly, “Hey, you can’t let a good cross go to waste.”

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Church: Not a "Pure" Market. (Thank God!) Have you ever been watching television and come across an advertisement that is totally incomprehensible to you? Carl often will have a sports channel on in the morning as he eats his breakfast. Frequently a very LOUD advertisement will come on, after which I will turn to Carl and say, "Does that make any sense to you? I have no idea what they are selling." He will look at me between bites of toast and say, "deodorant" or "sneakers" or some other thing that most men need. There is apparently some secret code that I am incapable of cracking. However, the same thing also

happens to him when I am watching "women's" channels. The advertisements on children and teen channels might as well be speaking some rare dialect of Urdu to both of us. I could not understand why marketers would create these advertisements. Didn't they worry that I am incapable of figuring out what they want me to buy? Does this not negate the whole point of advertising?

Then I read Gil Rendle's newest book, The Multi-generational Congregation. Gil contends that marketing has moved into a mode of "pure" or segmented marketing. Companies can track what we buy. They also use census data etc...to make calculated guesses on our patterns of behaving based on demographics. Since television was invented until the late nineties all advertising was based on the premise that families watched television together and therefore all advertising had to appeal to all the generations present in a room. Now, generations are rarely in a room together, of any kind. Companies find it more profitable to market intensely to one sliver of the market place; to direct their attention to just the group that will be most likely interested in what they are selling. My observation was correct - advertisers on the Sports Channel, knowing their market will mostly be men, could not care two hoots that I do not understand what they are saying. Other media, such as magazines, newspapers, internet sites etc...follow the same principles of pure marketing.

So what does this have to do with church and God? Well, for one thing, pure marketing is driving generations apart in a number of ways. First, it creates myopic or tunnel vision. If I only watch or hear things that confirm how my segment sees the world, it makes me more and more surprised and intolerant of other "segment's" perspective and needs. Secondly, it creates an underlying ethic of "I can and should have it my way" because marketing keeps telling us we can and have a right to have it our way. Thirdly, this trend separates generations and genders in brand new ways by reinforcing their physical separation based on what they watch.

In our culture there are fewer places where generations meet, talk and listen to each other. Church is one of the last public places where we do this. A critical understanding of a people of God is that all generations are responsible for one another's well being and are interested in each other. The trouble is, as Gil Rendle says, because we are increasingly losing our ability to interact and talk to one another even the intergenerational church can be a place of constant living tension. St. John's is pretty good at including all the generations in most things but this will take increasingly intentional efforts as we all move into a hyper-segmented future. The churches that figure out how to do this will not only be the ones who thrive but will also be places that model for the "outside" world, what intergenerational communities can and should be like.

This is so important for our church, that the Implementation Team named it a critical dimension of whatever we build in the future. Our church has to be a place where generations gather, listen and care for each other. Check out the bible. In it you will find children longed for, held up and loved. You will find elders revered and listened to. You will find young adults of action and vitality. They all interact, albeit imperfectly and not without some conflict from time to time. Hmm. Sounds familiar somehow....
Blessings,
Linda

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On a more serious note...God Does Not Abuse Us. I would hope that if I drowned my children, injected them with cancer cells in order to make them have cancer or withheld from them the necessities of life like food and shelter, that Social Services would intervene and rescue them. Likely I would be criminally prosecuted. At the very least my behaviour would be seen as injurious and sign of a serious mental disorder. Those of us, who name ourselves as Christian, understand that the wounding, starving and killing of children is profoundly wrong , no matter how much it allegedly might build character or teach so-called valuable lessons . We Christians also understand that this sense of decency is connected somehow to our understanding of who God is and what a loving God wants for us. How then could we possibly believe that God would cause tsunamis, give cancer or allow starvation “for a reason”? The concept that a loving God could drown hundreds of thousands of people is not

logical or possible. Yet, this is what I heard on the CBC Evening News early in March from an evangelical missionary doing Tsunami relief work in Indonesia. I can not imagine anything more sacrilegious than describing God as that – essentially a psychopathic child abuser/killer. The trouble is that people in their need for order and control would rather have an all powerful, all knowing God than a loving one. We can not have both. We can not say God is loving “Parent” and also that God does all this other nasty stuff. A God like that belongs in jail. We may have to say God is all loving and also God is not all powerful. Perhaps it is more complicated. Perhaps God is in partnership with human kind. Perhaps we have huge responsibilities for each other. If the Bible or the Qur’an are to be any guide, those humans who have more power and privilege have even more responsibility for the well being of others. Perhaps that message is too complex, too onerous and demands too much of us to be popular.

The need to describe God as abusive is endemic in these times. On March 5, 2007, the Bright Spot column of The Chronicle Herald featured some young people who were going to the Dominican Republic to build a medical clinic. Good enough. Even virtuous. What is not is the statement at the end of the column by one of the young men which said that people are poor because they push God away. What!? Clearly someone has not told them that there are

more than 1000 references in the bible highlighting God’s concern about people living in poverty. All this concern and criticism is pointed toward the people who are NOT poor and the systems that they live within and support that allow poverty to exist. Never, are the people who live within poverty assumed to have offended God. Quite the opposite, in fact. However, it sure is a lot more work to be faithful when the message of human responsibility is taken seriously, particularly if we live in an affluent society. If we believe for example, that people are poor because they have pushed God away then we don’t have to ask ourselves the hard questions about why people are poor and why, in particular, the Dominican Republic along with many other countries in the Southern Hemisphere are suffering from unfair global economic practices that we, as Canadians allow our government to endorse. It is easier, to build a building in a foreign country (a good thing) than to ask those questions and agitate for solutions in partnership (an even better thing).

As a cancer survivor I am always amazed at the number of religious people who insist that God gave me cancer “for a reason.” I always wonder if they have ever cracked open their bible. If Jesus is to be any guide at all to who God is, he was always HEALING people. Never once, for any reason, did he give disease or kill a person or impoverish them. This is not to say that God is not active in the lives of all of us who suffer from disaster or disease. God works with us in the midst of these events, despite them to create something wonderful, co-creating life filled gifts in the midst of chaos and death. Often, people need quick answers and someone/thing to be in control of their lives at all times- even if that some one is abusive. It is dangerous to believe in an abusive God. If you believe God can create Tsunamis and dole out cases of cancer on a regular basis in the name of “doing good” or “the big plan”

does that also not justify other equally nasty things like say, imposing crippling death dealing economic practices or dropping nuclear bombs on folks you have decided don’t fit into YOUR big plan?

What does God do? The question is answered for us, in part, by asking what Jesus did. Jesus Christ was so in tune, so open to the love of God, that when people left his presence they usually found themselves healed in some way. Some, however, found themselves disturbed. When people listened to his message they became inspired to risk and lose themselves in caring for one another and the world. Often this meant challenging oppressive systems. Those in power and authority found themselves so threatened by this openness to God that Jesus had to be silenced. The trouble and the blessing therein, is he just wouldn’t stay dead.

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Just Wait...There's More is the title of Linda's book about her ordeal with breast cancer. It is available from Nimbus Publishing- you can order online by going to http://www.nimbus.ns.ca/.

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