the absence of pleasure

I have neglected vanilla as a yogurt flavour for too long.

My mom gave me a tub of vanilla yogurt to bring back up to Kingston, and to be honest, it was not really what I had in mind. Vanilla yogurt, to me, was just normal yogurt (and when I say normal, I mean with some sort of fruity flavour) without the extra. Vanilla yogurt, logically, seemed like yogurt minus one. Its funny how I never thought of vanilla as a yogurt flavour. I've had vanilla cake (good), vanilla cookies (good), vanilla coke (despite what others say, good), but when it came to yogurt, vanilla was just the norm. If you have ever felt this way before, I urge you to try it, as it really is more than a base for strawberries and peaches.

vanilla yogurt is good; the possibilities for my life are endless

the homeboy is holy

Today I decided to stray from my usual Sunday morning of going to Bethel Church (local Protestant church in Kingston), and instead went with two of my Catholic friends to Mass. Prior to today, I had never been, but had always been interested in knowing more about how our fellow brothers and sisters worship on Sunday mornings. Not only have I encountered Catholic history more than enough times in class, but I came to realize that growing up in a Protestant church, I am fairly ignorant about the Catholic faith. In short, I felt like it was time for me to stop living within my sheltering bubble and, at the very least, check out what was going on on the outside.

This morning at mass, I experienced a sense of refreshment that I had not experienced at a church service for quite some time. I'll admit, throughout the service I was at times quite confused and felt kind of dumb. Everyone knew when to stand, sit, kneel, sing the chorus, say the Lord's prayer, etc...while I attempted to keep up (with the help of my friend). Obviously, it was more traditional and ceremonial than I was used to (and for those that know me, they would know that my definition of church is the furthest thing from any sort of ceremony). Nonetheless, all these things did not seem to really matter to me as I sat in those pews, as God was speaking to me; or at the very least reminding me of a lesson he taught me long ago. It was the simple message that God was great. The service prided itself in the fact that God is great and it was simply an honour to be in His prescence. Obviously the building is not our focus of worship, but the gradeur and magnificantness of the cathedral gave me the image of God filling His temple. The lyrics of the songs had little to no room for words like "I" and "me" because they were too occupied by the splendor of who God is. Many times we would kneel and be completely submissive as the magnifance of God was proclaimed. God reminded me how great He was.

I am not saying that the worship service at Bethel, SCBC, or any other Protestant church for that matter, is bad. I think they are great. But this refreshing experience (hopefully one of many) taught me a few things.

As people, we like to know that in the end, things are relevant to us. If the weather is bad, it is mostly bad because we know that we will have to wear a coat outside or spend the whole day staring at a dark, cloudy sky. If we spill something on the floor, we usually get mad because we are the ones that have to clean it up. A mark on a test or exam indicates more than what we did, but is a indication of our value. Things, in many cases, are right to us when we somehow fit into the picture. What about Christians? Does the same idea apply? We sing songs that primarily focus on OUR relationship with God. A message in church is not complete without the points on how it affects or is relevant to OUR lives. As hard as we may or may not try, our prayers are often consumed by OUR own personal agendas. To me it seems God only works for us within the context of ourselves.

Now dont get me wrong, I do not think these things are bad. Some of those very songs have led me towards great encounters and revelations about God. The "take it home" part of messages are usually what I remember the most when I go back home on a Sunday afternoon. When I pray, I feel a sense of joy and thankfulness that I have a God that cares about my day; that God doesnt mind listening to me rant about how much my assignments suck. These things are great; they not only remind us that God loves us, but they also give us tangible ways for us to actively take part in our relationship with Him. However, the point I am trying to suggest is that maybe as we were swept in the whirlwind of our relationship with Him, we lost sight of how awesome God is. We have created an image of God that has been so humanized that He is now just as down to earth as Joe who sits next to you in economics class. Jesus is just like you and I. But the last time I checked, I dont really feel like worshiping someone like me. I suggest that maybe we have forgotten that yes God is our best friend, yes God is relevant in our lives, but there is something so great about God that makes us stand in awe of Him. He exceeds our mere reason and surpasses our largest conceptions. His mere name caused angels to cry "Holy, Holy, Holy". With or without our ability to define Him, He remains perfectly unchanging. He exist in the most real way possible regardless of our existance. Its funny how we can sometimes think that God really only works for us, and when we do not give Him his validity, He just sits on His throne and twiddles His thumbs all day. I'm not trying to bash anything about our faith, but I am encouraging us to expand our perceptions and perspectives of God, allowing adequate room for the spendor of the King.

I have never really had an opinion on those shirts that say "Jesus is my Homeboy". Its true, I guess He's my homeboy too...we're pretty tight and eventually I know we will have the sickest handshake in the world. My friend sort of has a problem with these t-shirts, and I used to just think that he was just being theologically anal. However, the more I think about it, the more it makes sense: "Jesus is my Homeboy...but the Homeboy is Holy".

down to earth is the new profound

Since I understood exactly what a blog was, I'll admit, I was a bit turned off. The thought of people pouring out their daily routines and obsessions/struggles with the cutest boy at school on to such a public forum made me question at which corner, society had made the wrong turn. However, the more I read other people's blogs, the more I realize that we are no longer in junior high. Inspired by some and encouraged by the thoughts of others, I have decided that maybe I should give this a try.

Anyone close to me knows I like to think, and if you have been fortunate (or unfortunate) enough, you have sat through one of my many long rants about life over a cup of coffee or lunch. I have never really been one to have a diary, write down my ideas, or put my thoughts to paper unless the good institution of Queen's University has told me to. But I am slowly starting to realize that if I do not put down my thoughts somewhere, they seem to get lost in my chaotic mess of all my other thoughts, ideas, and other random tidbits of life. I'm not too sure how or if one is supposed to advertise that he or she is now writing a blog, so I am not sure how many people will read this. Nonetheless, I hope those that do will hopefully not be offended, but be inspired to explore the great ability we have to think.

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"The trouble with you educated people is that you despise your languages. You don't like talking to ordinary people. But what use is your education if it cannot be shared with your own people?

Let me tell you. You may possess all the book education in the world, but it's we, ordinary people in tattered clothes with bare feet and blistered hands, who have the real knowledge of things"

- Ngugi wa Thiong'o (Detained)

Sometimes I am so fed up with being around such intellectual hot-shots that I just want to hang out with ordinary people. Being a history student at Queen's, through seminars, I come across a lot of people who just know way too much about history. Maybe its the fact that I am jealous of them, or maybe that I am too stupid to understand most of what they say, but often times I wish I could just enjoy the company of people who are normal...or at least people who are completely down to earth. I think that's why I love meeting people for lunch or coffee...it allows me to just see someone in their natural and honest state.

I think in the midst of trying to obtain more and more knowledge, society has put a huge emphasis on things that may not be as important as we think, and has overlooked things that are oozing with good stuff. Don't get me wrong, I love what I study and I have learnt so much from my courses here. But when it comes down to it, I know that the intellectual shifts in Europe during the Enlightenment era probably will not dominate my thoughts and ideas for the rest of my life. Often I find that I learn a lot from observing people: watching people who walk by me on the street, friends who come home completely wasted, and children who will give anything to play a game of dodgeball with you. I guess its pretty simple, I love recieving what people, in the heat of their passions, have to offer me.

One day I decided it would be nice to have lunch with a friendly man I met on the street just outside of Tim Hortons on Princess Street. At the time he was panhandling for money and I had just gotten out of church service. I am a student and thus have very little money, so McDonald's was the obvious choice for lunch. I have never seen a guy enjoy McDonalds more. As we talked more about his life, my life, and hockey, I realized that here is a guy who is completely down to earth and no different than myself. And yet for the couple hundreds that walked pass him that day, they will never have any idea. Everytime I walk pass Tim Hortons, I hope that he'll be there, and we can go for lunch at McDonalds again. I was told once that we should be careful when we give homeless people food because there are a lot of thigns that their stomachs cannot digest. I'm not sure if McDonald's is soothing for the empty stomach, but at least I know it brings about good conversation.