“Well, I’m glad you aren’t God!” I heard my colleague say to the representative of the protest organized by a group called Action4Canada.  The Christian (and political) representation in this group  is right winged and confident that they are speaking the truth as God planned it! I was among those who stood in solidarity with Pictou County Pride. It is fair to say that the seven ministers who stood together have a different take on God’s inclusive message of love, one expressed through the life and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth.

My heart was strangely warmed this week, maybe more than once, but let me share this one time. At Trinity, we lost a wonderful, long-time parishioner. Ron McNutt had literally just had his 91st birthday when he was found dead. It appears he died as he lived, loved and contented.

“What don’t you get?” Jesus asks. The same kind of question is asked to Nicodemus, who comes under the cover of night, to the woman at the well, who in the middle of the day understands clearly, and to the man born blind, whose vision of Jesus is unimpaired. John, the gospel writer cleverly has each of these stories leaving us with a question that enables the teaching of Jesus to be clarified.

As difficult as it is to believe, we have just begun the journey through lent, representing the 40 days and nights that Jesus spend in the wilderness. During that time, he is tempted, and tested, and emerges ready to begin his ministry. His is a ministry that calls for teaching and healing, expanding his love for all and raising difficult questions for those who follow him to think about and act on. For us, lent is also a time for some of those things.

Last Saturday, I had the pleasure of going to a movie. It’s an indulgence of time and money that I don’t often make. We joined some friends and settled in to enjoy Tom Hanks, in “A Man Called Otto.” I haven’t read the book, but the movie can certainly stand on its own. In some ways it is kind of predictable, but I laughed and cried, and when the film was over left feeling happy to be alive and more mindful that ever that many people live on the shaky line between life and death.

To tell the truth, I’ve always been a little uncomfortable with the grand deception that happens this time of the year. Its not that I don’t love the mystery and wonder of the whole North Pole story, or that I don’t love the excitement on the faces of our wee ones on Christmas morning, or even the thrill of finding the one thing that I know will make the difference.

Camino is a Spanish word, that translates as route, path, journey, way, and is used frequently by people around the world to connect with a specific set of roads that lead to “Camino de Santiago”, the pilgrims' route to Santiago de Compostela; the Way of St James. Thousands of people from around the world walk that route on a spiritual, physical and personal journey.  It is on the list of adventures I would love to have someday, but for now, I will satisfy myself with my plan to travel with a group of pilgrims through the Annapolis Valley on a journey called Camino Nova Scotia.

Besides the change in overnight temperatures, making sleeping a little more comfortable, one wonderful thing about September is that many folks resume some sort of routine. Although we all know the liberating feeling of leaving a schedule behind when summer approaches, we can probably also identify with the steadiness a regular routine can provide.

This week there is nothing else to write about. The deep pervading sorrow and loss, in the wake of such a violent week has everyone captured. Some, much more than others, depending on how connected they are to the lives lost.