moved to a new site

I’ve moved.

From now on, I will be blogging at my new website www.paulvieira.info

Please feel free to visit me often at my new online home.  You are always welcome.

singing songs to God sometimes feels trivial

I’ve been thinking a lot about “worship” lately.  For many years, I thought worship had to do with singing songs to God in church.  I have to be honest;  I haven’t sung any hymns or choruses in a long time.  Actually, I just don’t have the heart or desire to sing church worship songs at all.  To me, it often feels empty and shallow.  Singing songs about God can feel trite if there isn’t a context for the words that you are saying.  They become meaningless, just more mindless activity that we assign spiritual value to.  I can’t see how we can truly worship God with lyrics and melody unless those words are coming from something authentic, something rooted in reality.  Are the words ringing true with what’s in my heart?  Is there a context to this truth? 

I’ve song a thousand songs that basically say the words, “God, I surrender.”  Most of those times, I groped for God through those songs, seeking very hard to make that statement true.  It was like I was trying to convince myself and God that I did indeed surrender everything to Him.  However, without there being something in my life making it a true expression of worship, all I was doing was trying to muster up some kind of emotional intensity through the power of music.  When worship comes out of real life, there is no striving.  That which is in our hearts will naturally surface.  For example, when our first child died at birth, and I struggled with even believing or loving God anymore, I made a choice.  Both my wife and I chose to say, “God, this hurts like hell, but I still love You.  I don’t understand why this is happening, but I still trust You.  God, I surrender.”  Now there was something real to incite the response of surrender to God.  This has been one of the deepest worship experiences of my life.  Once you start worshipping God with your life, singing songs can sometimes feel trivial.

This is why I am closer to God outside the walls of the organized church.  Life is my worship time and the world all around me is my sanctuary or temple.  I don’t look for God once a week on a Sunday morning.  I wake up each day wondering where and how I’ll see Him next.

posting very soon

I’m so sorry I haven’t posted lately.  Life has been crazy.  However, I’m posting tomorrow.  Stay tuned…

I’m teaching Jesus

Well, it’s been a while since I’ve posted. Sorry about that. I teach English to immigrants who are serious about improving their English in order to create a better life for themselves and their families. A new session started this week, with many new students for me to get to know. So, I’ve been a little busy. One of the people in my class is a doctor from Cuba named “Jesus.” I came home the other day and told me wife, “I’m teaching English pronunciation to Jesus!” The idea that I am a teacher and Jesus is my student is kind of strange for me. Usually, it’s the other way around.

Apparently, my class is fairly loud. Some of the other teachers can hear our class through the walls. It’s no surprise that we are loud, since it is a “pronunciation” class. We do a lot of talking. Next door is the writing centre and down the hall is the reading centre. So needless say, in comparison, there isn’t going to be a whole lot of noise coming from those two rooms. My class also does a lot of laughing. We do have fun while we learn. It’s important to me that my students feel relaxed because they are more likely to take risks with the language when they are comfortable with their environment. One of my collegues, who heard me teach recently, said that I sound like a preacher when I teach pronunciation. Another teacher asked for clarification by saying, “Do you mean ‘you’re going to hell’ kind of preacher?” Of course that’s not what she meant (I think she meant a more pep-talk, story telling style of communicating.), but we had a lot of fun entertaining that idea.

How would you teach English pronunciation in a fire-and-brimstone kind of way? What would “pronunciation hell” be like? Maybe there would be devilish looking beings with pitch forks that all looked like the Queen of England. Those who fail to speak the Queen’s English would be destined to spend an eternity uttering pronunciation drills. This is too sick. I can’t even go on with this picture.

Speaking of “hell,” last night one of my students had a very difficult time saying “hill.” We have a park near our city called “Birds Hill Park.” Yes, she said, “Birds Hell.” She tried and tried, but “hill” always came out as “hell.” She seemed very distressed over this challenge. I reassured her that it wouldn’t make much difference in every day speech. Later on, I thought about all the possible things she could say: Parliament Hell (in Ottawa), Capitol Hell (in Washington), Notting Hell (in London), Hellary Clinton, Paris Hellton, and country singer Faith Hell (I’ve been there).

With all this talk of hell, all I can say is I’m glad Jesus is in our classroom.

have you ever really loved a woman?

Last night I did something fun. I had my good friend over to the house and we watched concert DVDs. My friend and I played in a band together in the old days of a youth movement that we were both a part of. He played drums and I sang and played guitar. Well, last night we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves watching two great Canadian artists in concert. The first is the legendary Bryan Adams, live in Lisbon, filmed in 2005.

Wow! He’s getting a little older but he still has so much energy in his live show. He truly is staying 18 til he dies. Bryan Adams is a great song writer, especially when it comes to love songs. “Heaven” is a favorite of mine. There is such intimacy and passion in some of his lyrics. Another song that I really appreciate is “Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?”

Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman?

To really love a woman
To understand her - you gotta know her deep inside
Hear every thought - see every dream
N’ give her wings when she wants to fly
Then when you find yourself lyin’ helpless in her arms
Ya know ya really love a woman

When you love a woman you tell her that she’s really wanted
When you love a woman you tell her that she’s the one
Cuz she needs somebody to tell her that it’s gonna last forever
So tell me have you ever really - really really ever loved a woman?

To really love a woman
Let her hold you - til ya know how she needs to be touched
You’ve gotta breathe her - really taste her
Til you can feel her in your blood
N’ when you can see your unborn children in her eyes
Ya know ya really love a woman

Chorus

You got to give her some faith - hold her tight
A little tenderness - gotta treat her right
She will be there for you, takin’ good care of you
Ya really gotta love your woman…

“when you can see your unborn children in her eyes..Ya know ya really love a woman.” There once was a time in my life when I couldn’t understand how a man could talk this way about a woman. In my religious mindset, I honestly believed that these men were worshipping their woman in place of God. I was always taught that God should be #1 and I would fight to keep myself from giving that much devotion to a woman, for fear that she would become more important than God. However, I’ve changed. Now I see that any religious idea that denies the enjoyment of the good things that God has given us is not healthy. It is not freedom. Actually, now I believe it totally glorifies God when a man completely gives his heart over to a woman. A husband must adore his wife. He must be willing to hold nothing back and do anything it takes to show her how precious she is. I believe that a marriage relationship is a reflection of God Himself, and how a man loves a woman reflects God’s deep love and commitment to us. I believe God loves the human race like this, and was willing to go to the extreme to show her the extent of His love.

So men, love your woman. Don’t hold back. Give her everything. Don’t be afraid of worshipping the ground she walks on. In a small way, you are reflecting a divine reality. I can see God in these issues of life. I can see God in self abandoned adoration of a woman. We can love this deeply because it is His very nature in us.

Women, you can love too. This brings me to the other Canadian artist that my friend and I watched - Sarah McLachlan.

I’ll leave you with these beautiful words that she wrote to her husband.

“Push”

Every time I look at you the world just melts away
All my troubles all my fears dissolve in your affections
You’ve seen me at my weakest but you take me as I am
And when I fall you offer me a softer place to land

[CHORUS:]
You stay the course you hold the line you keep it all together
You’re the one true thing I know I can believe in
You’re all the things that I desire, you save me, you complete me
You’re the one true thing I know I can believe

I get mad so easy but you give me room to breathe
No matter what I say or do ’cause you’re to good to fight about it
Even when I have to push just to see how far you’ll go
You wont stoop down to battle but you never turn to go

Your love is just the antidote when nothing else will cure me
There are times I cant decide when I cant tell up from down
You make me feel less crazy when otherwise I’d drown
But you pick me up and brush me off and tell me I’m OK
Sometimes thats just what we need to get us through the day

peace with God

 

Over the past few years I’ve been on a path of rediscovery. I’ve given myself permission to ask questions that I once dare not ask. At one point, I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to be a “Christian” anymore. I had such a bad taste in my mouth about the Christianity that I had bought into. My heart was very disillusioned, and yet, there was hope. I somehow knew that God wasn’t threatened by my doubts. My questions were honest and real. The layers were being peeled away, revealing what was at the core of me. In the process, I have rediscovered things that I believe to be true.

Today is Good Friday. In many countries around the world, this day is celebrated in remembrance of the Friday long ago when a Jewish man, who claimed to be the Son of God, was killed by crucifixion. There were many people in Jesus’ day who died this very cruel and painful death devised by the Romans. What makes this particular death so significant? If Jesus was who He claimed to be, then why did He allow Himself to be taken, humiliated and killed by the hands of terrible men? A young Hindu man asked me this very question recently. He told me that many people in his home land of India just don’t understand why our “Christian god” would be so weak. I suppose this is one of the reasons why I thought the truth may lie in Jesus. Many religions have similarities, but it’s in the differences that deeper revelation lies. Jesus deals with the plight of man in a way that no other religion does. His story is so different than any other’s. He’s not like all the other holy men and prophets of the past. He is unique. He is the only one to personally offer a basis for forgiveness. God forgives the sins of the world, not only as an emotional response, but based on an event that is grounded on reality. The crucifixion of Christ is history. It is a fact. The message of God’s love is rooted in something tangible. It is real. But how is the cross an expression of God’s love?

I do think that God cares about our actions. I believe that God is not pleased with how we’ve treated one another. This is why most religions pick up on what is wrong and what is right. There is a right way to treat our fellow man, and there is also a way to hurt each other. Sometimes people think that God should just forgive our wrongdoing, as though it doesn’t matter. However, it matters to the one who gets hurt. It matters to the poor man who’s been cheated his salary. It matters to the little girl who has been violated. It matters to the young boy who has watched his parents be murdered and now is forced to do the same as a child soldier. As human beings, we all have a sense of justice. We get angry when innocent people are hurt by evil men who stop at nothing to make a profit. God cares about all this and yes, it can make Him angry. An all-powerful being who is angry is not a good situation at all. This “angry God” image is very common in religion. Yet, I feel it is incomlete. There is a degree of truth to this idea; however, I can’t believe it is the whole truth. I think we all want to believe that God is loving. As humans, we have this capacity to love, as a parent loves their child. This must be a reflection of the Creator Himself. Assuming then that God feels both love and anger, how does He reconcile these two powerful emotions? How does He deal with the anger He feels over the terrible actions done by the people He loves? God’s anger, fueled by His sense of justice, may cause Him to punish the very objects of His affection - human beings.

So, what do we do with this? Well, we could just say that God doesn’t really care about what we do. This would solve the problem. There are many ways to say this. We could believe that there is no God or that He’s not involved at all with the affairs of men. We could reduce God to some abstract force, making Him non-personal. That would also ‘do the trick.’ The other angle is that we could pretend that we are not as bad as we really are.

We could pretend that mankind is basically “good.” (Even though our history here on this planet says otherwise.) We could also convince ourselves that we can become “good.” If we do all the right things that our religion tells us to do, then God will forgive us and accept our works. But I must be honest, I’ve tried and have failed miserably. In fact, from what I hear, most people can not keep up with the demands of their religion. Everybody breaks the rules, at least in their heart. People are fooling themselves if they think they can walk this life completely blameless. Religion is a hard burden to carry.

This brings me to a rediscovery that I’ve made. Jesus makes the most sense of all this. His story leaves God as God and man as man, without bending reality. His message portrays God as a loving God who does get angry about evil, and mankind with this propensity towards evil. However, here in lies the difference. Out of deep love, God finds a way to deal with His anger, without compromising how He feels about sin. He actually creates a way to sentence and punish mankind for the sins of the world, without having to destroy the people He loves and offers a forgiveness that is based on reality and not the bending of truth. We call it “The Cross.”

I have to be honest, I don’t fully understand how this all happened, but I believe it did. I believe that God Himself willing decided to become a man in the person of Jesus. Only a perfect man could lead imperfect men into freedom. As a man, He lived a life of innocence and this qualified Him to be the one who could save humanity. If Jesus was guilty of any of our crimes, this would mean that He too would need to be forgiven. How would he then be able to offer us something that He himself did not possess? What did Jesus offer the human race? He offered us His own sinless life in exchange for our corrupted one. On the cross, time and space stood still as this massive transfer happened. Jesus took upon Himself the sins of the world. Every person was punished that day, but Jesus took that punishment for all of us. He did this willingly. God did this because of love. He found a way to unload the anger and make peace with mankind. He sealed this job by raising Jesus from the dead on the third day. I believe this to be true. It’s the only thing I know that reconciles God’s love with God’s anger, with an end result that is favourable towards humanity. It’s the only thing I know that doesn’t bend the truth. The cross keeps God as God, and doesn’t falsely elevate man. It only provides a bridge between the two. Believing this and accepting what Jesus has done is the path to true peace with God.

 You are forgiven!  God is reaching out to you with open arms.  He has initiated a reconciliation with mankind.  If you want to, you can find God.  The way is open, just tell Him in your own way that you believe.  Jesus once said, “Everyone who seeks, will find.”

 

praying for a miracle

I’ve just received this request for prayer for Winkie Pratney. He is a very wonderful man who I had the privilege of meeting a few years ago. He was kind enough to write the foreword to my book. I’m very concerned about his current situation. Would you please consider joining me and many others in praying for a miracle for Winkie?

“We are requesting you to pray for Winkie Pratney, long-time international youth minister and speaker. He fell down the stairs in New Zealand and broke a rib. He flew on to South Korea to speak anyway. But when he got there he had to be admitted to the hospital. Apparently when he fell and broke the rib, the rib punctured his intestines and who knows what other organs. Now peritonitis has set it. His kidneys and bowels have shut down. The South Korean doctors are seriously concerned that they can lose him. So, his wife is flying in and his son is also to be with him. His body is so filled with the poison, that he must have prayer right now. Please alert everyone who believes to pray with us all for a miracle in Winkie’s body.”

Regular updates here:
http://www.winkiepratney.com/winkie_pratney_blog/index.html

a perfect match made in the greenhouse

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how my wife and I are perfectly matched for each other. I don’t know how this happened. I was so young when we got married. I met Tamara when I was 19. We met at a University cafeteria called The Greenhouse. I had just finished heating up a piece of my mother’s killer lasagna with the communal microwave, when I noticed that The Greenhouse was completely packed. There was no where to sit. How would I ever enjoy this delicious meal without a proper chair and table? Then I saw it. One empty spot. It was a table for two, but who was the mystery person that I would have to sit with. There she was. What a vision of absolute beauty and grace. I walked over to the table and asked if she would share her lunch table with me. That was the beginning of my life. We talked for hours. I skipped the rest of my classes that day just to talk with this new fascinating woman. I was hooked. It may have been my stomach that brought me to her, but it was my heart that took over from there. (I think this is probably how many men get snagged by a woman. Stomach first, then heart.)

She was three years older than me at the time. Some how, I’ve caught up now. Actually I think I may be older. So, being only 19, I looked like a boy. She definitely looked like a woman. In fact, those are exactly the words my father used the first time I went out with her. With a tear coming down his face, my Dad said, “My boy is going out with a woman!”

Two years later we were married. I was too young to know who I was and if Tamara was the right kind of person for me. I didn’t know what I needed in a life partner. I didn’t go into this with my head. I followed my heart. I have a friend who is 36 and still not married. I think he’ll get married soon. What’s so interesting to me is that, after all these years, he knows himself and knows precisely the kind of spouse that he would need. When Tamara and I were married we were kids. Fortunately, our hearts did not lead us astray. We are perfect for each other. Maybe our minds didn’t realize how compatible we really were, but our spirits must of known. We are really lucky. I thank God for His mercy.

Like all relationships do, we’ve certainly had our troubles. However, at the end of the day, we are perfect for each other. We are still in love. Our strengths balance and cover each other. Look at us now:

In our relationship, I am the emotional one. My regular daily pattern is to rise and fall emotionally over the smallest reasons. In one moment I could feel so excited and happy, only to come crashing down into a state of melancholy in the very next moment. It doesn’t take much to set me off either way. I’m really working hard to be more steady. Tamara, however, is as steady as they come. She doesn’t react. She stays calm and collected. It really serves her well in knowing what to do in difficult and challenging situations. She doen’t panic. This helps her make good decisions. She is very wise. I’ve learned to depend on it. I, on the other hand, will rise into the stratosphere in total ecstasy simply because I hear a song on the radio that I love. When the song is done, I may fall into a mild depression because my mind begins to regret that it’s not one of my songs that I’m listening to on the radio. I start to fear that my dreams are lost forever. What a head case!

Lately, Tamara and I have been wondering if our cultural backgrounds have a part to play in determining our disposition. I come from a Latin based culture. Portuguese people are often very passionate. When Tamara came to one of my family gatherings for the first time, she asked me why everyone was yelling at each other. She thought that they were having a dispute. I replied, “No. This is just how they talk.” Like my family, I am dramatic and very passionate about life. I’ve learned to see how this passion can be used to inspire others. I also use it to inspire my wife and children. My heart is to see them live life to the full and reach their dreams. On the other hand, Tamara comes from the British culture. There was a proper way to do everything. She was taught to place her food on the plate in a specific order. Her father would get upset if the daily newspaper was left out of it’s “proper perspective.” Recently we discovered this poster that was used in England at the time of the Second World War. This poster completely captures how my wife operates on a daily basis. Here it is:

This is my wife’s motto. I can’t believe the Brit’s. The Nazi’s are bombing the hell out of London and their pep talk to the people is “keep calm and carry on.” I think if it were I that had to write the caption for the poster it would be something like “eat, drink, and keep your loved ones close tonight, for tomorrow we may all die.”

Can you be too transparent?

This past weekend we invited two new families over to the house to eat pizza and hang out. We met them at a home schooling “swim and gym” program at the local YMCA. Sure enough, it wasn’t 20 minutes into the night before my wife and I were sharing all our most embarrassing stories. I’m talking about experiences that have something to do with body fluids. Of course, we talked about pregnancy and labour. That’s always fun. Labour presents plenty of moments for indignity. However, those stories are for my wife to tell. Well…maybe I’ll tell you about something my wife said in labour that always brings a smile to my face. As you probably know, after the baby is delivered, the woman has to then give birth to the placenta. This can be painful and certainly anticlimactic. The baby is out and just when you think this nightmare is over, you have to do it again with the placenta. After giving birth to our first child, my wife started feeling the contractions to deliver the placenta. The doctor encouraged her to push again. Tamara, knowing that this wasn’t going to feel very good, said, “no, please, let’s just leave it in and I’ll use it next time.”

We did tell our new friends from the weekend about my most embarrassing moment. It happened several years ago. I had just started our first house church. We had everybody over for a Christmas party. After a night of great fellowship and lots of food, people started feeling very comfortable and relaxed. That didn’t last long. Their host and fearless leader would soon terrify them all, etching into their minds a scene that no one will ever forget. It happened when one of our guests shared a joke with us all. This was a joke that he had told me only 4 days previously. Upon hearing this joke the second time, I realized that I didn’t get the punchline the first time, and now I did. I started to laugh…and laugh…and laugh. I laughed so hard, much harder than the joke deserved. In fact, I laughed so hard that I started vomiting all over myself.

There was instant chaos. Our guests were running all over the room, covering their mouths, heaving and looking for something to catch their own puke in the event that this thing might break out into an epidemic. Fortunately, I was the only casualty. I felt like an idiot. I folded my shirt to keep everything together. I walked upstairs to our bathroom. I ran the shower and stood under it fully clothed for 15 minutes, until all traces of the offensive fluid (and my shame) was gone. Years later, all those who were in the room that day still share a special bond. There’s nothing quite like puking on yourself in front of others that creates a sense of intimacy and community.

Well, I hope our new friends weren’t scared away by our transparency.

my bike and me

This was definitely the most memorable birthday gift of the first quarter century of my life:

That smile on my face, and the almost psychotic look in my eye, says it all. I loved that bike. It didn’t take long before the training wheels were off and I could ride around the neighborhood with all the other kids. Yes, this past summer of 2006 was a milestone for me and I had a blast.

Actually, I’m really looking forward to biking with my family this year. If only this snow would go away. Here we are in the middle of March and it’s snowing today. Winter is not giving up without a fight. There is so much snow still, and no sign of the cold breaking. This picture of three of our children and the family dog was just taken today:

 

I suppose in no time we will be dusting off the bikes and enjoying summer. This reminds me of something quite humorous that I learned this week from one of my English students. A young man from India told me about how people in his country use the English word “bicycle,” instead of the Hindi word for bike. I asked him why they didn’t just use the word in their own language. He then spoke the word to me. Everyone around, who heard our conversation, started giggling. The word was literally the length of an entire sentence. How could “bike” in English be so long to say in Hindi? Then he told us that there was originally no word for “bicycle” in his native tongue, and that this is why the Hindi word for “bike” is so long. I asked him how it translates into English. He said, “a two wheeled, man powered, transportation machine.”