Published in Saturday’s Edmonton Journal… Hope Mission’s 80th Anniversary celebration.

Special thank you to all supporters, those who were able to attend and those present in spirit.

 Edmonton Journal online version

(Alberta Premier Ed Stelmach and Hope Mission grads.) 

( Chris, one of our Breakout Grads, who now works for Hope Mission)

A gala it was. The Premier, the Housing Minister, handshakes all-round, the best food prepared by Lindy and people, served by the most courteous, helpful and effervescent staff and volunteers in the city…and the speeches, congratulatory effusions–in the good sense of that term–besides, after 80 years a bit ebullience is in order. And Premier Stelmach saying things like, “Tonight I’ve had the honour of witnessing faith in action.”

Then there was Ed Viso (HM grad two years ago) in top hat and cane, and Chaplain Alan in razor-white suit that almost flowed, seraphim-like. Who else would you get to do the opening prayer? And then there was the art by Edwin from Breakout–work that rivals Bateman and Kinkade–set in the foyer like a gemstone.

And a tip of Ed’s top hat to all the setup and takedown people from east-Tegler to west-Brightwood, also, on the administration side, tickets, seating, etc., cheers to Ting, Jennie, Tara, Annette, et al, who saw to it that our biggest banquet yet went off swimmingly.

Of course the nucleus of the night was the graduation of over 50 men and women from Breakout and Wellspring. The stories from Ryan, Tanya, Paul, Chris, and James had most everyone welling up–and then cheering. A pause here to remember that it’s here, in the eyes and hearts of all those on stage that night, that makes everything we do worth it. (Salute to Edie and Marybelle at the Bargain Shoppe for acquiring all the suits for the guys; you had them all looking like men-from-Milan.)

But first-place for the best line of the night goes to our own Bruce Reith. In responding to the Alberta Minister for Housing and Urban Affairs, Yvonne Fritz, and her reiteration a of the 10-year plan and the billion dollar injection to eradicate homelessness, said, "I hope you’ve left something over for Calgary."

Thank you, really, everybody deserves a bouquet!

(Watch for a feature article by yours truly in Saturday’s Edm Journal – Religion Page) 

What has a decade of monastic retreats taught me? Reception. I believe. Not much else. I’m still a tin-man carrying my suitcase full of aluminum siding brochures. Still missing too many subtle blues in a shine-shot sky. And on too many days, in the midst of plenty, it still feels like my skin is electric-dry and my run has ran out.

Yeah, and even though the promise of spring gets me through winter I’m still afraid of the struggle of coming up out of the ground alive. Too often I prefer the dormancy of winter even when things are going green all around me.

But give me this: I receive more easily. Listen a little closer. Reject a little less readily. I’m a bit more open to inevitabilities. And slightly less driven by my need for the approving glance. Although this last one is still a bitch…please, as Emily D. says, "judge tenderly of me."

Do I want peace more? Yes. But I’m more aware of my own folly in attempting to achieve it. So what of a decade of monastic retreats?

It comes to this single insight that you can get just as easily tripping down an inner-city alley: "Everything is bullshit but the open hand" (Bruce Cockburn). And if you crank up Cockburn’s Strange Waters and hear this line while you’re roaring west on the Yellowhead, gunning past Kittscotty, you’ll crash right into the psalm and be moved to tears and your skin will frisson like you’re on MDA.

For a meditation on this theme check this.