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Archive for March, 2010

Mountains or Sea – Either for Me

31 Mar

It’s the last day of March and it still feels like winter here in Ireland.  Northern Ireland and Scotland got nailed with a snow storm yesterday and I heard on this evening’s news that Scotland got something like 40 cm of the white stuff and it’s still coming down.  So, I guess I shouldn’t say too much about the few flakes and hail that came down on me yesterday when cavorting through the mountains around Glengarriff, now should I?

These guys are a couple of my new friends that I met on the mountain top after driving blindly through a hole in the side of the mountain that in no way compares to the carved tunnels we have in North America.  Like an idiot, despite my fumbling efforts to find my glasses, I couldn’t and so to add badder to bad, I drove through the black hole with my sun glasses on!

Lessons to be learned in this journey of mine?  What rises up quickly is the certitude that I don’t belong in a city, not even here in the City of Cork.  My heart, my soul, my spirit…my essence – ME – belongs out there with the mountain goats, or on the other side of the mountain where the sea roars, sitting on the docks waiting for the fishing boats to come home; or higher up carved into the side of the mountain in a log cabin with smoke rising from the chimney…with the occasional lost tourist dropping in for directions and perhaps a spot of tea or something warmer to take the chill from his/her bones.

That makes my heart sing.  Occasionally I would venture down the mountain or away from the sea, to civilization, to reconnect with the madness of the ‘real’ world (who says its real anyway; if that’s real, you can keep it).

I’ve found that even in a country as beautiful as Canada and as beautiful as Ireland – both having thousands and thousands of unspoiled, undeveloped land – there is still the chaotic madness of the corporate city.  Walking down the streets of Cork, which is the 2nd largest city in Ireland, today, a work day for the folks, it wasn’t much different to walking down Bay Street or Queen or King Street in Toronto.  The people in the ‘suits’ scurried by, not seeing, not looking; in a hurry to….pick up that whatever, on this their lunch hour; bumping into folks ’cause there heads were down or minds were elsewhere….hurrying, rushing….

So there you have it; two beautiful countries and we’ve defiled ourselves, we who live in the city.  We forget who we really are, what is important.  It is so very easy to get caught up in the corporate crap, to forget about the wife or husband or children who are waiting at home, who have become strangers to us as we scurry to please the boss, to increase he bank account.

I couldn’t believe it when I saw the prices of real estate – EU $295,000 (which equals about $404,000 Cdn) for a rinky dink ordinary house.  Unbelievable…and why?  Because you see, when you get beyond the city limits and burbs that have developed here in Cork, Cork – how does one make a living?

If by the sea…can you make a living in the fishing industry?  If inland – well, the craggy rock formations I saw wouldn’t sustain any farming.  In the mountains there were sheep and they feed the peoples and supply the wool for the beautiful woolen crafts of Ireland.  In a shop yesterday in Bantry that specialized in Irish crafts and woolens, I could have purchased a beautiful cardigan for $29 (Eu) and I can tell you that in Toronto I would have paid $200 or higher for the same quality.

Tomorrow I am heading out to Kinsale which isn’t that far from Cork; the closest place I will have travelled to since my arrival in Ireland.  I am told there is a woman there who knows something of my family and their history in Ireland.  The bonus is that I at long last will be able to visit with my long lost friend, the Sea.  It’s what’s kept me going when stuck in the corporate workplace jungle.  I have a photograph of me at my desk; rising like an albatross out of the sea…a spot where I’d spent a lot of my childhood years on the rugged coastline of Cape Breton.  When I get to the sea tomorrow, I shall coerce a stranger to take a picture or two of me…just for proof to me that this journey has been a physical as well as a spiritual experience.

Give me mountains, give me sea…
For both of these sing songs of liberty
To the one who heeds the call and comes running
Does not hesitate, does not stall.

She responds from within the silent whispers of freedom
Responding to her true love, like an angel sent from above
To guide her back, back to that place in time and space
Where she mistakenly, unknowingly took the wrong turn…sought the wrong face.

Coming home, she cries, coming home, soon I shall be
There by your side, deep in your waters of life to wash away
The cares of the world, now so distant, so impure.
Refreshed and reborn, back on the narrow road of life again.

Sweet song of the ocean, I hear your mighty roar
I see your waves clapping out their song as they crash to the shore.
Do not hold back, keep calling me loudly and clearly
That this time I not be lost, not go astray until I reach you my love…come come away.

 
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Posted in Religion & Spirituality, Scenic Presentations - Nature & Places

 

Waiting…Rain Drops Keep Fallin….Ireland

29 Mar

It’s lovely out there; now around 4 in the afternoon here in Ireland and am drying out from today’s road trip.  Didn’t travel as far as yesterday because it was raining cats and dogs and there were poodles (puddles) everywhere; one point thought I was going to lose my car.

It’s been a very very long time since I’ve driven on some roads like this; reminded me of childhood trips to Cape Breton from our home in PEI.  The roads, back then, were much like they are here in Ireland; barely enough room for two cars to pass, and some of the bends….God help you if you aren’t paying attention.  As for me, double trouble – ’cause they drive on the wrong side of the road over here and I still go to get in on the wrong (right) side of the vehicle.  The people here, though, are extremely polite and courteous…on and off the road.  Not certain they know I’m a tourista….but they patiently wait for me to make up my mind which way to go.

Yesterday’s trip was gorgeous, inland and up through some wee mountain roads lined on the side with tree branches swiping the side of the car, and me driving on the wrong side (right side here in Ireland) barely scraping by the oncoming traffic.  I never realized how much I relied on my ingrained driving abilities….and how much I don’t think about the other side of the car…the passenger side.  Twice yesterday my wheels grated up against a curb, and onto a sidewalk as I shinnied my way through a small one street village that had cars parked on both sides of the roadway, in places, leaving barely enough room for one vehicle to pass through.  I’d wait or the other car would wait….and thank the dear Lord, that when I failed to pay attention to the left side of the vehicle, it wasn’t one of those moments when I could have side-swiped a parked vehicle.

Aaah Ireland, my God it’s beautiful; rugged, weather beaten and beautiful.  A lot of yesterday’s photographing was taken while driving (now that’s scary isn’t it), and I’d hoped to make it to where my great great grandfather and generations since have lived.  I was doing really well, and made it all the way…to Tralee….and then got lost.  I left Cork at 10 in the morning and didn’t get back until 5 in the evening.  Had I not given up…I would have made Glengarriff within about 20 or 30 minutes of Tralee; but, I got lost on the roundabout of the roundabout…my goodness there’s nothing but roundabouts.

I guess roundabouts are the common thing in Europe.  I recall it’s very much like that in Sweden and France as well.  It’s just us North American’s with a propensity for red lights…and, I am wondering as I write this, is it also because drivers in Europe are more courteous?  If I waited at a roundabout in Canada or the USA…for someone to give me permission to enter…I might still be there.

That’s much like needing a “law” to be allowed to proceed, isn’t it?  Without the red light to tell you to stop and let me go through…would you?

Are we really that discourteous in North America?  Something to think about isn’t it?

Today I didn’t venture to the other side of the island and still managed to get lost on the way to kiss the Blarney Stone at Blarney Castle.  I’ll blame it on the heavy rain and leave it at that.  The photograph is a picture of a home taken along the mountain road on which I was driving.  Other than the downtown of cities, towns and villages…there isn’t any of this mass development of housing developments.  There are single family homes…plunked in the middle of a hillside or field or on the tip of a field that spreads out for miles like a feathering fern.  Even though it’s still cool and grey, the grass is green in many places (emerald green) and there are rows and rows and some times fields of blossoming yellow daffodils…some of them peeping out of barren craggy rocky hill sides.

 
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Handed Over or Voluntarily Surrendered?

24 Mar

I read an e-mail today that was dealing with the death of Yahshua and the juxtaposition was, “who crucified Christ?”  My first thought was the religious ideas that had been hammered into my head sense the dawn of reason and understanding as a child in a Roman Catholic household – of course, I did; my sins killed Christ.  Everyone knows that; not my sins alone but those of every man, woman and child.  It was “me’ this horrible wretched and hopeless person, who knew better but always did wrong; it was me who killed Christ.  Great thing to have engraved into your soul; a murderess, a terrible person who just couldn’t do anything right, and because I didn’t (deliberately or unintentionally), this man called Yahshua had to get nailed to a cross and die alone…just because of me!

Now that that confession is out of the way, let’s turn to the article I read in the e-mail.  Of course it didn’t point a finger at me saying, “Shammah, it’s all your fault!”  The article dealt with the endless argument about who was responsible for Yahshua’s death:  the Romans or the Jews?

But guess what folks?  Neither is responsible for Yahshua’s death.  Yahshua surrendered his life, turned it back over to the Father’s Will….no matter what.  I like to think it wasn’t until that night in Gethsemane, when we are told he sweat so profusely, it was as if he sweat his blood.  I think it was then that the Father turned on the “lights of his mind” to show him what his journey was about and the final curtain he would face.  Being fully human, Yahshua must have wrestled with this terribly!  He was alone, he’d asked his disciples to watch and pray with him through the night…but they’d fallen asleep. So we have this solitary figure, I imagine kneeling on the ground, look up towards the heavens, towards His Father, “out there somewhere”, seeking Him, His Word, His Presence….and after but brief moments of a possible awareness of the presence of the Father with him, Yahshua was “given eyes to see” what would become of him.

I believe that had not Yahshua voluntarily surrendered, said, “Okay Father; I’ll do it.” then he would not have had to go through with the crucifixion; that the Father had also endowed Yahshua with “freedom of choice,” just as He has you and I.  Yahshua said, “Fine.  We’ll do it your way.”  I wonder if he mumbled under his breath, “I sure hope you know what you’re doing, ’cause I’m not going to get a second shot at this.  It’s final, finito, the end!”  Did Yahshua dare to question the reasoning behind what YHWH wanted him to do?  I think he did, if he was as “fully human” as you and I; as we are told he was.

No, Yahshua wasn’t handed over to those who would ultimately see him to his crucifixion; at least not involuntarily.  He was handed over, that is betrayed by one of his beloved disciples, Judas.  But Yahshua willingly went and he knew in advance that it was Judas who would betray him.  Talking about Judas, modern day man applies the term to a man when wanting to make a point about the bad character of that person, if they are unreliable and not to be trusted.  They would hear words, “You’re a real Judas, aren’t you,” and that isn’t intended to be a compliment.  Even Judas, well even he was carrying out the Father’s will for Yahshua, to play a part in the big scheme of the Father and allowing His intended purpose (for both Yahshua and Judas) to unfold.  I don’t think he knew that he was “voluntarily” betraying and in doing so he was really doing what YHWH wanted him to do.  He couldn’t have believed that; he wept and ultimately he took his own life.  He couldn’t live with the guilt of betrayal for one whom he’d travelled the roadways with, learning and discussing for three whole years.

This then, is the e-mail content I received, and the credit goes to the person and web link url at the end of the message.  Enjoy.

Crucifixion Facts & Fiction

Fact #1: Crucifixion is an ancient method of execution that caused extreme pain as the body was tortured to death.  The Romans perfected this technique, which was used only upon the most hideous criminals.  One foot would be pressed backwards against the other while a nail would be driven through the arches.  Iron nails were also driven deep into the skin near the person’s wrists.  With each breath, the body would painfully flex up and down upon the nails.  This motion created excruciating agony as the weight of the body was pressed upon the muscles and nerve endings.  Cramps, fatigue, and knotting would lead to the pectoral muscles being paralyzed.  The victim’s heart would eventually stop due to a loss of blood and the buildup of carbon dioxide in the lungs.

crucifixionFact #2: The crucifixion of the Messiah is prophesied throughout the Old Testament.  Many verses speak vividly about His passion.  For example, Psalm 22:16 read, “For dogs have surrounded me; a band of evildoers has encompassed me; they pierced my hands and my feet.”
Fact #3: The Roman method of crucifixion used during the time of Jesus was not upon a cross but a straight stake or tree.  “Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us: for it is written, Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree,” Galatians 3:13.  History records that the few times a cross shaped beam was used for an execution, the shape resembled the capitalized letter T and not the lower case t shape.

Most English Bibles poorly translate the term “cross” to continue this error.  In the New Testament, the word translated for “cross” is the Greek phrase “stauros.”  According to Vine’s Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words, this term literally means “stake” or “upright beam.” The popular cross shape was imported by the Catholic Church from neighboring pagan religions.  This fact renders the cross as an incorrect symbol and virtually insignificant during Biblical worship.

crucifixionFact #4: The hands of the Savior were not nail scarred.  The Romans could not have placed the nails into the hands of a criminal as the palms were not strong enough to support the weight of the body.  Instead, nine to twelve inch nails were driven deep into the arms of the sufferer.  The space between the small bones of the wrists, radial and ulna, were strong enough to allow the body to hang for hours in agony.  A nail in the hand would have broken many bones.  Psalm 34:20 and John 19:36 state that not a single bone was broken in His body; therefore He could not have nail scarred hands.

Fact #5: The Jews did not kill the Messiah.  Nor did the Romans. No one took the Savior’s life from Him. The Bible clearly shows that He gave up His life freely for all mankind. “I lay down My life that I may take it again. No one has taken it away from Me, but I lay it down on My own initiative. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again,” John 10:17-18. Because the wages of sin is death, the Savior gave His life upon a tree.  He became cursed to pay the penalty of sin.  The death and eventual resurrection of the Savior provided hope for all mankind.  “For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten son that whosoever beliefeth in Him would not perish but have everlasting life,” John 3:16 KJV.

By Daniel Rendelman

www.emetministries.com

 
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