Excerpts From: The Messenger |
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For the next few weeks leading into Lent, and Easter season I am going to invite you to journey with me as we explore the topic on Forgiveness. It is a topic that is hardly discussed these days, because it brings out different emotions in people. Nonetheless, the objective of these mini studies is to assist us as Christians in working hard on breaking the cycle of hate and violence around us.
And to set the stage, let us hear how the Kikuyu tribe of East Africa deals with Vengeance and Grief.
In East Africa, the Kikuyu tribe believes that the only way to end grief is to save life. If someone is murdered, a year of mourning ends with a ritual that is called: “The drowning man’s trial.” There is an all-night party beside the river, and at dawn, the killer is put in a boat.
He is taken out on the water and he is dropped. He is bound so that he cannot swim to escape. The family of the deceased then has to make a choice, to let the murderer drown or they can swim out and save him.
The Kikuyu believes that if the family let the killer drown, they will have “Justice,” but spend the rest of their lives in mourning. But if they save him, if they admit that life is not always “Just” that very act can take away their sorrow ..…
VENGEANCE IS A LAZY FORM OF GRIEF (Kikuyu tribe of East Africa)
I must say this topic on Forgiveness has come to mean a lot to me in these past few years. There is a difference in knowing about forgiveness and actually experiencing forgiveness and appreciating God's forgiveness. I will invite each and every one of you to explore with me, and hopefully gain some insight on Forgiveness and learn how to offer forgiveness in an effort to break the cycle of violence which seems to engulf our planet earth. Forgiveness, a not so simple 3-syllable word that even with great thought one has difficulty coming to terms with. How can we forgive? Will our human nature even allow it? How can we even comprehend a seemingly preposterous statement such as ‘love thy enemy’?
“…And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against any one; so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your sins. (Mark 11:25-26)
After all, are there any harder words in all of scripture than Jesus’ commandment that ‘we love one another as He loved us?’ And does this mean, love that lays down its’ life for another? Just who did Jesus mean when he instructed us ‘to love one another’? Surely it wasn’t our enemy or the person that just won’t listen to reason and agrees with us on one issue or another. And certainly it couldn’t be that person that sinned against me in the past.
Occasionally when trying to come to terms with a concept and attempting to bring things into perspective one must look at the extreme. For me, it was when I came across an article entitled “Can You forgive the Oklahoma City Bomber?” Surely this forgiveness, this love of which Jesus speaks cannot apply to him? Not with us still trying to figure out how it applies to the person next to you, or that person who aggravates us at work, or any family member.
Hard to grasp eh!… difficult to understand… yet every single one of us knows that we are capable of sin and we have heard many times in worship that we sin in thought, word and deed, even by what we've neglected to do. I am certain that a good many of us, I for one, are not so astute that we are even aware when someone is hurt by us. Please join me again for the next phase of our journey on forgiveness, and may God bless and keep you in his peace.
Your friend and pastor
Pastor Samuel King-Kabu
When I awoke before 06:00 at the campground in Sombra, Ontario, on the banks of the Saint-Claire River, all was dead quiet and covered with a light, foggy mist. The sky was grey. The day held lots of promise, but would turn out to be one of my most trying days ever in cycling. The goal of the day was to ride around the eastern shore of Lake Saint Claire, to arrive at a pre-arranged campsite at a golf course near Belle River, just a couple of hours ride from Windsor.
The tiny road was nearly deserted as I set off in the early morning. The grey, foggy day lent a totally different aspect to the river than I had seen the day before, in the sunshine. Nothing was open in Sombra, so I continued on to Port Lambton, half an hour further on, where I joined the farmers and other early risers at a busy little breakfast place.
At Port Lambdon, alas, the road turns away from the river, to make way for a large island, which is also an Indian reservation. I could not believe my bad luck as the grey skies turned to rain, but I took it in stride and stopped to change into my rain gear. Riding due east and halfway to Wallaceburg, I met the main highway. Suddenly my the two-laned road was alive with heavy traffic. The rain remained light. I was surprised to find a drawbridge at Wallaceburg and a channel filled with pleasure boats and industrial barges. I had never known water traffic could come so far inland off the lake. My route led me southeast from Wallaceburg. I had no choice but to give a wide berth to eastern shore of Lake Saint Claire, as there was no road that went directly south. My intention was to cut over and zig-zag southwards along a collection of farm roads. I was still riding along the main highway, next to a canal, when I began to see the mist hide the distant trees to my right. Soon, even closer trees were vanishing. Then I heard the thunder and saw the lightning! In grey, overcast skies, it is very hard to see an oncoming thunder storm. The slightly darker sky and the oncoming mist, which is really heavy rain, are the only clues.
I raced across the canal and dashed into a nearby farm, taking refuge in an open equipment barn, as the torrent arrived. Lightning flashed all around, with heavy thunder, but it was all over in 20 minutes. In that time, no one said anything to me. I was back in the light rain as I continued southwest along the main road.
Just a few minutes later, as I neared my turn off onto the farm road called 'Electric Line Road', I saw the mist coming upon me again, and heard the nearby thunder. I looked around and could find no easy and open refuge.Finally, at the corner, I dashed into a driveway and knocked on the house door. A leery woman answered and, upon my request that they open their car garage and let me in it, called her husband quickly. Hearing my plight, he did as I requested. I was on my way again about 20 minutes later.
A few short minutes later, at Bear Line Road, a storm struck yet again. This time I did not have time to find shelter before being caught in the heavy rain. As lightning was striking the ground nearby, I raced for the island of trees ahead, which I knew to be a farmhouse. I dashed in and, without asking, parked myself on their sheltered porch. I saw the curtain move as a lady looked out the window, but no one said anything. Soon I was on my way.
It began to clear a bit and the rain stopped. I felt the day's storms were over. I kept scanning to the southwest, whence they had all come, but saw nothing.
I ended up at the town of Mitchell Bay, right on the shores of the lake. Feeling from the improved weather like my day's troubles were over finally, I relaxed and had lunch at a small restaurant. As I headed south along Winter Line Road, I kept a wary eye at the sky towards the southeast, looking for more storm cells. I saw nothing, but noticed I was making really good time. There was a strong wind behind me. I stopped at the town of Grande Pointe, surprised to see signs of French all around me, and looked behind. The whole sky behind me was a dark, ominous colour! I knew I did not have much time as I raced on, taking advantage of the windy push as long as I could. The rain hit just as I came to a crossroads.
Once again, I had to dash for someone's porch. For a few minutes, the rain fell so strongly that I could hardly see the road. As I was standing there, the owner of the house drove in. He looked at me, but did not say anything as he raced inside. Half an hour later, I was on my way. I began to become concerned about making my day's destination, for all these stops. I now knew to look behind me as well.
I realized later that the hour's worth of 'good weather' must have been the eye of the storm, which is way the afternoon's weather was coming from the opposite direction.
My next forced stop was in the town of Painville, where I shared a sheltered porch with two young girls, as their mother eyed me warily. Then south once more, to reach the Thames River. I was surprised to find it completely enclosed by high levees. After crossing the Thames, I was forced one last time to seek shelter in a farmer's shed along Tecumseh Line Road. This time, the storm was less intense and it did not move on, but merely dissolved into heavy rain.
The rain had turned cold as I rode on after half an hour or so. All around me were high levees. I felt like I was riding through the delta-land of Louisiana! I came to the town of Pointe-aux-Roches, looking for a hot coffee and some soup, but there was nothing of the kind to be had.
Thankfully, 5km further on, I came upon my campground for the evening. It was attached to a golf course. They took pity on me and gave me a site usually reserved for trailers, as all the tent sites were literally underwater. I set up my tent in the rain and then came inside their cafeteria for some well-deserved hot soup, hot coffee, and a wholesome meal.
The rain had ended by the time I was done, so I took a walk around the campground and marina. All along the far side of the channel was thick, jungle-like vegetation. My feeling of being in Louisiana was reinforced.
There was little else to do so I retired for the evening. It was still light outside.
(The story will be continued in subsequent editions of the Messenger. Accounts of earlier bike rides can be found at http://rogerkenner.ca/Bike/Bike.html)
Roger Kenner
Web Page prepared by:
Roger Kenner
& Jette Blair.
Content-New Topics Last Updated: 2007/03/14
St. Ansgar's Lutheran Church - Montreal