Hopewit

A Catholic Charitable organization sends me a rosary every year. This time, I'm determined to find out what it means and how it's used. I’ve two Good Friday services to go to today; I’ve decided not to go to either. I find the ritualistic retelling of the execution of Jesus and the story of the resurrection unsettling, not because it’s not worth telling, but because experience has suggested that its repetition year after year, in the same manner as the year before, produces little outward consequence and so seems more of a self-indulgence than a renewed “call to arms.”       But that’s me.       Not that the content of the message is completely trouble-free for me either. In the hymns we sing, in the sermons we hear, the core message is roughly this: we are all sinners (“would he devote that sacred head for such a worm as I”) and Jesus’ suffering and death was substitutionary; that is to say, God allowing his own son to be tortured and killed in place of us who

Oh Sing to me, Brother Crow! (On second thought . . .) I like birds. Their singing lifts my spirits (except for crows and magpies; both species are in dire need of voice training) and their appearance here in the sub-arctic in Spring is a reawakening of optimism.       I think we should avoid endangering species of birds wherever possible; likewise, we should preserve habitat for them.       That’s my considered (a little bit) opinion.       It’s a broad consciousness, but there are many who have refined the sentimental opinions on the wonder of birds and have sought out the finer points of the joy in—and the preservation of—our feathered friends.       For instance, An analysis of Midwestern breeding bird population trends: 1966-1993 is the title of a research paper that narrows down the discussion scientifically . Puts a finer point on it. It’s the modus operandi of researchers, career ecologists and post-graduate students searching for thesis topics for th

The Land of Living Skies Funny how events that coincide sometimes suggest that they’re connected.       The two weekend events that had “coincidental” components for me were a delegate assembly of my Mennonite area church and the reading of a number of pro-UFO articles to which I’d been referred. Apparently former Canadian defense minister Paul Hellyer has become convinced through what he has seen and heard that an alien presence on earth is an indisputable fact . In connection with this, he believes that the star leading the magi to Bethlehem, for instance, may in fact have been an alien presence directing them.       The other event—the assembly—was extremely sensory: robust singing, near continuous talking, dramatic reading, smells of coffee and roast chicken and repeated reference to an invisible presence in the room, the spirit of Christ: the Holy Spirit.       What’s the suggested “coincidence?” It’s the perception that we earthlings attribute certain events