Man of Steel – Trailer

I’ve always been deeply captivated by the Superman story. Something of it speaks deep to the heart, of both young boys and grown men.

And, thus, I am happy to catch a brief glimpse of the new movie that comes out next summer. Check out the trailer below. The story still calls to me…… Continue reading

The Christmas Story as Story

With Christmas messages being shared with frequency and fervour these days, the usual place to head is either in Matthew’s or Luke’s Gospel (or maybe a combination of the two). And if one heads into Matthew, where is the usual starting place?

Verse 18.

This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about…

Not a bad place to start. But it’s not the beginning of the Christmas story, at least from Matthew’s perspective.

For Matthew, a Jew also writing to Jews, what we call the ‘Christmas story’ actually begins in vs1.

This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah…

Well, it must begin there if he started off his account that way.

It’s just that we aren’t too sure what to do with all those names, much less pronounce some of them. Continue reading

Once Upon A Time

Last night, my wife and I began watching the new drama series entitled Once Upon A Time.

The plot is based around the reality that all fairytale characters of our childhood favourites (Snow White, Pinocchio, etc) have had a curse put on them and are now trapped inside our world, in a little town called Storybrooke, Maine. There is only one person, a woman named Emma Swan, who stands as the hope to breaking the curse. And it’s her 10-year old son, whom she gave away for adoption at his birth, that has come to help her understand who she is and her role in the story. But she needs to believe the story first before anything can happen. Continue reading

Those Were the Days – A Parable

You remember the good ol’ days? You know, those days. The days that were predictable, fit into the mold. It was the status quo of them days. Made it much easier to handle. Those were the days.

What days do I speak of? You know. Those days.

Ah, yeah. Those days.

I looked in the mirror and saw white skin. Well, really a kind of peachy-colored skin, I guess. But they called me white. And that gave me privileges. Predictable privileges that made things easy and, well, predictable.

When I got on the bus at 7.52 am, I knew what that bus would look like on the inside. Whites up front, blacks in the back. And, you could easily expect a gap of at least a couple of rows between the skin-coloured divide. Heck, even Larry, who was old and blind, could get on a bus and tell you what things looked like. It was easily predictable.

Conversations were predictable up at the front. Conversations were just as predictable at the back, if you ever perked your ears up to hear what was being spoken in the back. And, at times, we might ask those in the back to pipe down, for they were… the back.

Those were the days.

It didn’t matter if it was Monday or Thursday or whenever, the scene was set. The bus had been parted colour-wise just like the Red Sea long ago. Your eyes knew what you were gonna see and, so, the scene became easy to predict and deal with.

I remember when this one black lady tried to sit up front one day. I believe here name was Rita or Rosa. Yeah, that was it. Rosa Parks.

She said she was tired. Real tired, and she couldn’t make it to the back of the bus.

Well, all hell broke loose. Literally. I think I saw manifestations of spiritual forces that day that I was not aware existed.

I asked myself, ‘Why would this Rita, no, Rosa, do such a thing? I mean, don’t she know how things work around here. All ya gotta do is look around. There are enough pointers to tell you how things are supposed to go. This is how it is. And it’s just easier that way.’

I looked in the mirror that morning and I was still white. She looked in the mirror that morning and she was still black. The ‘rules’ stated that, when you get on the bus, whites park it in the front, blacks make the trip to the back of the bus. That’s just how it is, how it’s been, and, well, how it should remain, right? That’s the rules ’round here.

But that Ms. Rosa, she had to set something in motion. Actually, I don’t even think she was tryin’ to. She was tired, I suppose. And so, because of lil’ Ms. Rosa, we started seeing some things happen that didn’t usually happen. Some of the rules changed. Some scenery began to change around town, or at least in the that predictable bus. And it no longer mattered if you looked in the mirror and saw white or black skin. That rule had changed. Some religious folk started talking about all people being created equal in God’s sight. I couldn’t get used to it for the longest time. I’d never heard that before. And the scenery around never pointed out equality.

Actually, I remember gettin’ on the bus at 7.52 am a few months later, you know, after them rules had changed. You’d still find the great divide on many buses. The rules had changed, but all the people found it hard to live by the new rules. I guess it’s cause we were so used to the norm of the day. It was confusin’ at times. And it definitely wasn’t predictable any longer.

At different times, there were some blacks that would get on and holler to the back, ‘Hey, come on up here. You can sit up here now.’ Made us all uncomfortable. Some would get off the bus at the next stop because they just couldn’t handle things. Some buses were mainly filled with black people because some of us whites found it hard to blend.

Those were the days. Predictable scenery. The rules were set. Why did things have to change? This is how it was supposed to be. It’s how it had been done since my grandma and grandpa were born. This is how it’s been for longer than that, right? Why the change? Why mess with the how things are?

Those were the days.