Circle of the Musk Ox

Message by Nathan Rieger

as interpreted by Debbie Haughland Chan

It was at an elders’ meeting several years ago that someone received a picture of the musk ox circle. When danger approaches, the musk oxen form a circle, enclosing the weak and vulnerable and face outwards as a solid wall of protection. Nothing but a mouse can get past the power of their horns.

Society today gathers around the beautiful and successful, paying homage to those who’ve had the lucky breaks. But what would it be like if, instead of the “best” in the centre and the weaker, less successful crowding around them, the weak and vulnerable were in the centre with the strong and confident encircling them—not in obeisance but as a strong wall, facing away from the centre in solidarity against those on the outside who would destroy?

Loneliness. Abandonment. These are places of terror for those living on the fringes of society but what if, as a church, we lived as the musk ox?

Not long after the elders’ meeting, the church held a conference. When one of the speakers said he was going to change the topic he had been given, church leadership held their breath. How could he? He had been specifically invited to speak on the topic given. Changing the topic was not part of the plan. To their amazement, however, he began to speak on the very picture given at the elders’ meeting—the circle of the musk ox. It was confirmation of what God wanted for our church.

Nathan Rieger said that to make such a circle work, we have to search for those who are alone; we have to get out of our “bubbles” and search.

He told the story of his first visit to The Northern, a hotel on the seedy strip of Main Street that rents rooms by the month [to tenants] and by the hour [to the hookers and johns]. Its unspoken motto is, “A Fight a Night.” He was new to the city and, having made friends with a man who, though trying to give up alcohol had gone to the Northern to get a drink, he was determined to track the man down and take the drink away from him.

“This is no place for a white man,” he was told as he went from table to table looking for his friend.

“Come with us,” several women offered. “We’ll be your friend.”

“You’re a cop!” others accused.

“I’m not a cop. I’m a pastor!”

Yeah. Right. Since when do white pastors come into The Northern bar?

“But I am!” he insisted and, when they continued to disbelieve him, he spoke out the only sentence he knew in Ojibway, not knowing what it meant: “Shut up and drink your coffee!”

Everyone burst into laughter and conceded that perhaps he was a pastor after all. Several asked him to pray for them.

Nathan had successfully crossed the line, the barrier between “them” and “us.” Jesus crossed these lines everywhere he went and he was killed for it.

When we cross such lines, what if, instead of trying to fix the other’s problems, we came together in worship? It’s not good enough to make occasional forays into someone’s life. By way of illustration, Nathan told another story.

He was walking through the park when an evangelist came up to him and a few others nearby. Using a booklet, the evangelist began to preach at them and “give them the gospel.” He didn’t bother to learn anything about them, or whether they might already be believers, and had no interest in participating in their lives. He gave his spiel, left instructions about the sinner’s prayer and went on his way. What he was failing to realize was that people aren’t ready to trust us until we’ve invested in them and shown that we too have scars. Thankfully, Nathan was there and able to invite conversation once the evangelist had gone.

It’s not good enough to give charity and leave. We need to create a safe place for people to grow and, in that place, love finds them and strengthens them so they begin to know God for themselves.

The beauty of the musk ox circle is that those in the centre grow and become strong enough to take their own place in the outer circle. They’re not kept in a weakened position. Instead, the outer circle grows, searching for more who need protection and justice, surrounding them, strengthening them and enabling them, in time, to stand in the outer circle.

God, through Amos, said:

“I hate, I despise your religious feasts; I cannot stand your assemblies. Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings [which he had commanded them to do through Moses], I will not accept them.... Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps. But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream.” Amos 5:21-24 NIV

The fragrance of worship is justice. It is time that we look at our shape and our worship. Is our circle open or closed? Does it protect all in the centre or are there gaps for the enemy to enter? Do we include justice with our worship or is our worship repugnant to God because there is no justice?

What Love Does

Children, adults and teens came to Winnipeg Centre Vineyard (WCV) from across Canada to learn What Love Does. Situated in the core of Winnipeg’s toughest, most hurting neighbourhood, WCV has a long track record of reaching out to the poor, the homeless, prostitutes, drug addicts and dealers, the disenfranchised, the marginalised and the weak. How can we cross the forbidden lines in our neighbourhoods? How can the weak and vulnerable be protected from those who would use, abuse and discard them? How can we from the suburbs become one with those from whom we are so different? How can those who have every advantage in life identify with those who have been treated as detritus since white men first stepped foot on this land? Who is my neighbour?

We examined these questions through six main sessions punctuated by generous times of singing and dance, workshops, and forays into the community. Speaking were Nathan Rieger, pastor of WCV, Beth Wood from Halifax, Mark Tavener from Langley, B.C. and David Ruis, founder of WCV, currently planting a church in Los Angeles.

It was an amazing and inspiring time and I hope to share with you much of what I heard, saw, learned and experienced.

Please note that there may be times when I get some of the details wrong. I hope that those who recognise those mistakes will be forgiving.

Prime Minister Harper Performs with Yo-Yo Ma at Gala

What fun! And what a great sport our prime minister is!

Harper performed with a little help from his wife

Jessica Leeder and Jane Taber
From Monday's Globe and Mail Sunday, Oct. 04, 2009 10:02PM EDT

The architect of Prime Minister Stephen Harper's surprise concert performance with superstar cellist Yo-Yo Ma at an Ottawa gala Saturday was not a Conservative spin doctor, campaign strategist or image consultant.

The executive producer credit goes to his wife, Laureen, who was the honorary chair of the event and says there was “no big strategic thinking” behind his vocal rendition of the Beatles' anthem, With a Little Help from My Friends.

“I just thought it would be a fun surprise. When was the last time you were shocked? I wanted people to be surprised,” she said.

Continue reading here.

View video of performance here.

A Corner Turned?--Part Two

Continued from September 27, 2009

Recap: Friday night, two weeks ago, I did something I shouldn’t have even while knowing I shouldn’t. Filled with remorse, the next evening I called one of the elders from church and asked her to come over. She led me to the throne of God and figuratively held my hand while I spoke the whole matter out with God. Then she encouraged me to know that having been forgiven, I can put it all behind me as if it never happened but my sense of guilt and remorse wouldn’t leave.

Sunday morning I went to church, still feeling numb from the previous 36 hours. Forty-five minutes before the service begins, a number of us meet in the Comfy Couch Room to pray—for the service, the speaker, the message, those who will be there and anything else God leads us to. I make a point to be there each week.

As I walked toward the room for prayer, Gloria, an elder involved in prayer oversight, looked up and asked me how I was. I didn’t want to tell her all that had happened that weekend so I chose to tell her how my depression and inability to function worsened over the summer. She suggested we should pray about that but she was collating and stapling papers together and I continued toward those who had gathered to pray.

Gloria joined us when she could and when the prayer meeting finished, she came to me to pray. I don’t remember all she prayed but I do remember the picture she said God gave her. It was of me in a lush meadow of rolling hills, alone with God. It had no meaning for her but for me it was full of significance.

In Searching for Love I tell a story I’ve called “The Doorway.” I had had success the night before (quite a few years ago) in not giving in to temptation. I was so amazed because I hadn’t thought it possible. When I went to my counsellor, he called it a lifestyle change and asked why, when I had tasted a new way, would I go back to the old? I wanted to seriously consider the answer to that and looked off into space as I thought. A picture came to me. Well, it was more than a picture, it was an experience that became a pivotal point in my journey. I quote:

I had just walked through a doorway. The door was always open but I hadn’t believed it was there. The other side was black, small, cramped, heavy, a place where I mistook the jangle of heavy chains to be the music of my soul. I found comfort in the dark closeness that restricted me. I didn’t see how it confined. It was normal and exciting! There was a mystery to the darkness that allured and seduced me and I couldn’t see the door.

For a brief moment, a light shone into the blackness. I was told I could be surrounded by light but I disbelieved. Could it be real? Might the light be better? Would I be allowed to experience it? The thought stirred terror, panic. Could I leave the safety of the room, the only place I’d known? Could I believe the promises? I didn’t want to but the question remained, “Why would you want to stay here?” Why? Why? Why do I want the chains? Why choose oppression? Why remain when I had begged to be removed? Why? I knew I couldn’t. I must move through.

The bright openness stunned my senses. The foreignness of it paralyzed me until I was melted by the warmth of the sun and I opened my eyes. I was standing in a vast meadow of gently waving grasses and flowers, the breath of a quiet breeze bearing the fragrance of God, iridescent dragonflies inviting me to dance with them. Yes! I wanted to dance. I couldn’t keep from dancing—twirling, swirling, leaping with joy. There were no walls, no boundaries, no chains, no end to the light, the beauty, the freedom. There was no end. Was there a beginning? The room was gone. I was free.

That day, through that experience, God freed me from the power temptation had over me. Dancing with God and the dragonflies in that beautiful meadow became the symbol of that freedom. Now, many years later, with my Friday fall, I wondered if I had relinquished the freedom and returned to the dark, close confinement of the little hut. Had I lost all I had gained from God? Was I back at the beginning and, worse, now stuck there? The picture Gloria received from God and shared with me was a message to me from God: I was still in that meadow, away from the chains and heavy darkness that had previously held me. It was an unexpected gift through someone who didn’t have a clue what she was saying. God is so good!

The songs of worship that Sunday morning were further confirmation of God’s grace and goodness:

Your mercies are new every morning. (Aaron Shust?)

You know everything about me and love me anyway (don’t know which artist)

Heal my heart and make me clean (Hillsong)

How can I perceive your mercy? (David Ruis)

There is a place where forgiveness flows like water / There is a place of healing for my soul / There is a place of drying tears of sadness / There is a place of cleansing for my soul (Winnipeg singer/songwriter Shezza)

What can wash away my sin? / What can make me whole again? / Nothing but the blood of Jesus (Robert Lowry)

Everyone needs forgiveness / So take me as you find me / All my fears and failures (Hillsong)

The prayer that followed our singing and worship reminded me that Satan is the accuser. He accused me—with justification, because I sinned—but God kept reminding me of truths: Jesus died for you; Jesus was cast out for you; God forgives far more than he expects people to forgive.

Nathan Rieger, the lead pastor, prayed exactly what I had been thinking all day Saturday: “We deserve for you to kill us...” then added: “...but you give mercy instead.” It was as if God had arranged the music and prayer to speak specifically to me and my need.

As I left church, “Revival” by Robin Marks began to play on the radio.

The song lists people in varying circumstances: broken dreams, rush hour frustration, innocent child playing, empty preacher with nothing to give, mourning widow, “the lost soul reaching for a higher high,” etc. I could identify. I’m one of these people. The singer declares to God:

I feel it in my spirit, feel it in my bones

You're going to send revival, bring them all back home...

I can feel the brooding of Your Spirit

"Lay your burdens down, Lay your burdens down"

and then implores:

Revive us with your fire!

That night, my daily Bible reading took me to the beginning of Judges. A note in my Archaeological Study Bible (page 343) talks about God’s faithfulness:

Through the repeated cycle of disobedience, oppression, repentance and deliverance, Judges portrays a God of both judgment and forgiveness. (Italics added.)

I felt encouraged by this because I know how faithful God stayed to his people Israel despite the many times they fell away from God’s standards. It was yet another statement of God continuing to be with me, forgiving and loving me.

To be continued.