What a day, so far. I had to get three of my paintings over to the church early today. The buses were running slow, this being Sunday, so I walked nearly a mile schlepping two forty-eight by thirty-six inch canvases and a twenty-four by twenty inch one together. Downstairs at the church I was greeted by a woman who thinks she owns the place and told me I shouldn't be making noise hammering to put paintings up before a church service then left me alone when I told her that I have the rector's permission. Then I saw the fellow I used to do hospitality with and he completely ignored me (he seems to dislike everybody) till I said hi to him. Nobody asked me how my trip was or where I had gone (I was away for the past month ferkrissake!) then I noticed that the church caretaker was not present to give me a hand with the paintings even though he had promised and the rector had asked him to, but he is the ex-husband of the lady who thinks she owns the place and maybe they still don't want to be in the same room together. I did get the paintings up and they look good, then another busy body in the parish came downstairs to see what the hammering was about, did not even bother to notice the paintings or welcome me back, so I didn't feel particularly welcome by the time I got upstairs in time for the Eucharist to begin but quickly got over it as others greeted me with warmth and friendship.
Following the service we all, or a lot of us anyway, headed downstairs for coffee and I was glad to see that there were some people who seem to genuinely like seeing my paintings down there with even a potential offer to buy one. During the book club that followed a lot of people got into their usual neurotic and paranoid whinging and moaning about those dreadful fundamentalists and how they seem to be set to take over the world and I judiciously kept my mouth shut till the very end when I told everyone that, hey, I know a lot of fundamentalist Christians, I used to be one myself and have learned a lot of important things about Christian discipleship from these people, and by the way they are not all necessarily fundamentalists, which is a decidedly different gig from being evangelical or Pentecostal, and anyway my apartment building is managed by evangelicals and some of them are wonderful, faithful and loving Christians. I also mentioned how I managed to get the manager on board with me to try to prevent a bigot in our building from trashing the Xtra magazines when they arrived and even though he still can't really get his head around same-sex marriage at least give him some credit here. I also said that I have met lovely Christians who are also fundamentalists and some, well I don't know; just as at St. Paul's I meet lovely Christians, and some, well, I don't know. My emphasis here was and still is, that I would prepare to interact with persons instead of categories, and that it is very important that we do not let ourselves get sideswiped by fear. I did not mention this but I really would like it if Anglicans at St Paul's and elsewhere would get over their irrational hatred and fear of Christians they do not happen to agree with and prayerfully explore ways of reaching out to those they disagree with and see what we can do to further the unity of the Body of Christ. Easy? Hell no! Necessary for the health of the church (not just the Anglican part or those who agree with us about gay marriage, but everyone)? I would say so.
Following a coffee visit in Yaletown with my friend Dave I went home to do laundry. After putting a load in the washer I went for a walk and encountered what appeared to be a white gang intimidating a young black man, likely about drugs. I saw one of the white fellows slap his face. There were four of them I think. Once I saw that I was out of sight I called 911 and gave the operator a detailed description of what I just saw. She asked me to wait on the street corner for police. I leaned against a concrete planter and waited. Eventually an unmarked car pulled over and a young woman in street clothes approached me. I asked to see her police badge which she showed me as her young male colleague approached from behind. They seemed to accept my description and concern as valid and I do hope they get to the bottom of what was happening. After, I returned to my building, threw the clothes in the dryer and walked to Chapters Books to see what is new in their Spanish section, walked home, got my clothes from the dryer and now I am cooking dinner. Just another Sunday in Vancouver.
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