tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40443477777292276362024-03-14T03:13:10.095-05:00awarmcupofcoffeeGeneral musings on life, faith, song, and how to brew the perfect espresso.Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.comBlogger104125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-83807055256335049282020-04-05T13:39:00.001-05:002020-04-05T13:39:22.611-05:00Karate... A Way of Love<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I wrote the following paper as part of my grading to Shodan (first level black belt) in March of 2017. In response to the question, "What does karate mean to me?" I chose to explore how my faith in Christ and my study of karate intersect. </span></div>
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<b>Karate - A Way of Love</b></div>
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Benjamin Harapiak - Student of Deo Namwira Sensei</div>
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Goju Karate St. Norbert / Karate for Christ North Kildonan Dojo</div>
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<i>“International Meibukan Gojyu-ryu Karate-do Association (IMGKA) we are more likely to hug you than punch you.” - Sensei Kim Marshall, 6th Dan Renshi</i></div>
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As I have prepared for my Shodan grading, I have taken some time to look back on my karate journey. It all started somewhere in July 2012 when I met with Kelley Ewert, a member of our church family about a crazy idea he had. At the time he worked for a local Christian ministry organization and his coworker happened to run his own karate dojo in south end of Winnipeg. Our subsequent meeting with Sensei Deo Namwira seems like an eternity ago mainly because of the great friend he has become. Here was this Congolese man with a heavy accent sharing with me the peace emphasis of the sport of karate while trying to see if our church would be interested in joining with him in setting up a Christian based dojo.<br />
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There were a few things that stood out to me that made me incredibly passionate about the possibility of a karate ministry from the very beginning. One was the fact that it would be open to young and old. Another was the clear peacemaking foundation of this style of karate, Meibukan Gojyu-ryu. Finally, it was Deo Sensei's own clear passion for the sport as a Christ follower and for leading it as a ministry. After checking to see if this was something I could just go ahead with (and it pretty much was) I decided to dive right in and book some rooms in the church, put up a few posters, and give things a try. Here we were, a small group of guys between the ages of eight and forty-something in a room learning karate for the first time in sweat pants. By the third week we had our uniforms, and week by week our community grew. A father and daughter one week, a young couple the next, a wife, a daughter, a friend; and suddenly we had a very neat community coming together.<br />
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Our classes were chaotic at first with some of the young boys constantly jumping around doing their best impressions of karate kicks accompanied by loud “hiyaas,” but through Deo Sensei’s incredible patience and calm demeanor we began to learn that karate wasn’t about impressive displays of physical strength at all; but about patience, dedication, perseverance, and above all things, love. Deo Sensei would often share with our class that karate-ka are trained to avoid the fight at all cost, and that it was never about winning an inevitable fight, but of not losing. <br />
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<i>“While many people think and believe that Karate is a "fighting art," Okinawan Karate has always been a “self defence art.” While some teachers in some parts of the world teach “how to fight,” we teach “how not to fight.” In case one is faced with an unavoidable fight others teach “how to win,” but we teach “how not to lose.” - Master Meitatsu Yagi Sensei</i></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I first met Sensei Kim Marshall soon after my grading to 6th Kyu as Matthew Schmidt and I attended a seminar at the Winnipeg dojo with Yagi Akihito Sensei. Any nerves I had walking into this unfamiliar dojo filled with blue, brown, and black belts were quickly assured by his warm handshake and kind welcome. Through the years our visits to his dojo and his visits to ours became more frequent, and the handshake was replaced by a warm and very strong embrace. While overseeing one of our gradings, Sensei Kim stated the following to our group. “Karate is about love.” He went on to explain that our training, honing the physical skills to stop the fight before it happens and protecting those in need of protecting, was an act of love even towards the aggressor by preventing them from hurting others or themselves. As a Christ follower and a vocational minister of His Gospel, I immediately resonated with this as I thought of Jesus’ words in the book of John.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>“This is my commandment: Love each other in the same way I have loved you. There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” John 15:12-13 New Living Translation</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kLqzTmyuWv4/XD_lW8VOBlI/AAAAAAAAAro/x59rQAdXW3YWTu-7tpbuUEMUBady_phIwCLcBGAs/s1600/pic%2B3.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="118" data-original-width="118" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kLqzTmyuWv4/XD_lW8VOBlI/AAAAAAAAAro/x59rQAdXW3YWTu-7tpbuUEMUBady_phIwCLcBGAs/s1600/pic%2B3.png" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;">As I have studied the origins of traditional Okinawan karate, I have been struck by the significance of the term “empty hand.” Genkai Nakama, a student of Goju-ryu founder Chojun Miyagi, stated the following about his Sensei. “I still remember his bright face, his sharp eyes, in which I found the true Karate Master’s love and kindness”** The empty hand is an act of kindness, as it can be extended in friendship and love just as much as it can be used to defend against an aggressor. It also signifies to me an act of humility. Once again I turn to the Christian scriptures and the teaching of the Apostle Paul. </span></div>
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<i>“Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.” Philippians 2:3</i></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1IkDauI84p4/XD_lkZaw8ZI/AAAAAAAAAr0/lCnUB2hjmCU88_4ZdA4tGSgajasn-X_6QCEwYBhgL/s1600/pic%2B4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="116" data-original-width="116" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1IkDauI84p4/XD_lkZaw8ZI/AAAAAAAAAr0/lCnUB2hjmCU88_4ZdA4tGSgajasn-X_6QCEwYBhgL/s1600/pic%2B4.jpg" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;">It has been my great privilege to train with Master Meitatsu Yagi Sensei and Akihito Sensei multiple times over my five years as a student of Meibukan Goju-ryu Karate-Do. They have demonstrated this humility this type of humility to us in very practical ways, from kindness in teaching, to the expression of genuine appreciation for hospitality shown during their visits. Master Meitatsu Yagi’s open door policy for visitors as expressed on the IMGKA website is itself another clear indication of this humility and kindness that we find in our system of karate, and I am thankful for that. I am also thankful beyond words for the friendship with and instruction from Senpai Etienne Leygue and Sensei Joan Elmhurst who have become an integral part of our dojo family in Sensei Deo’s absence pursuing his studies. Their patience and constant encouragement is a huge part of why I am where I am today. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /><br />As a Christ follower, I consider life a journey. My most significant journey began the day that I chose to accept that I was fatally flawed, in need of forgiveness and of a Saviour. I follow with all my heart the following statement: <br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Jesus told him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one can come to the Father except through me." John 14: 6, NLT </i></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82Mob6Turso/XD_l2NQCADI/AAAAAAAAAr4/rlmsES8551EfD_8DSST7kOnPsdXz9jWdwCLcBGAs/s1600/pic%2B5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: Helvetica; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="137" data-original-width="137" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82Mob6Turso/XD_l2NQCADI/AAAAAAAAAr4/rlmsES8551EfD_8DSST7kOnPsdXz9jWdwCLcBGAs/s1600/pic%2B5.jpg" /></a>The journey that began from that point has been a journey of love, doing my best to walk in the way of Jesus, and accepting that I can only do so by His guidance and grace. I am thankful that my journey in the study of karate has walked along the same path. I have been blessed by an incredible community of love and encouragement while striving to love others more and uphold a humble spirit. This community is of all ages, and of many backgrounds and creeds, and it has challenged me to not just preach love, but to do my best to practically live it out from day to day.<br />
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I opened this essay with a quote from the late Sensei Kim Marshall. It was taken from his Facebook account where he had posted a photo of an IMGKA t-shirt. A friend had commented asking if IMGKA meant “I’m gonna kick ***?” Sensei’s response was clear, loving, and spoke much of the budo philosophy of love. I miss him dearly. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Expressing our well wishes to Sensei Kim during his illness. Matt Schmidt, Senpai Etienne Leygue, Sensei Deo Namwira, Myself</span></td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">** Bushi Chojun Miyagi: Originator of All Goju Karate Systems - Don Warrener, 2010 Rising Sun Productions, Location 324 Kindle Edition</span></span></div>
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Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-85738566007146152002018-06-10T23:32:00.002-05:002018-06-10T23:32:42.248-05:00Being AcknowledgedHad an interesting experience the other night. It was a beautiful evening, I had a craving for a smokie dog, and there happen to be a couple of quite famous hot dog restaurants around 20 minutes north of the city. Driving past, the first one was full as usual and so I figured I'd check out the other one as which was just a little further. There were only a few customers inside, so I stood at the counter and waited. The young ladies behind the counter barely gave me a glance as they walked around doing various things - grabbing orders that had come up, looking together at the soft serve ice cream machine, and one was just walking slowly around the restaurant slowly sweeping. Minute by minute went by and no one even acknowledged that I was standing there waiting to order. Finally after at least 5 minutes I shrugged my shoulders and left. I drove back to the first restaurant which was still completely packed, and yet was able to immediately place my order.<br />
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Acknowledging people personally is something we see Jesus do quite often in the gospels. <i>"Zacchaeus, come down from that tree." "Follow me and I will make you fishers of men." "Who touched my garment?" “I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.”</i><br />
Each time Jesus acknowledged someone personally He emphasized that they were important to Him and He affirmed their worth and value as individuals. This has probably become my most important tool in youth ministry - making the effort to acknowledge every youth who walks through the door, whether it be a youth night with 80-100 middle schoolers, or a Sunday School with youth and high schoolers together. Knowing how I personally respond to being acknowledged, I can only imagine how much more it is important to our young people who are going through the most difficult time of life in regards to self-esteem and self-worth.<br />
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Back to the restaurants I visited, both are very similar - retro 50's style, fantastic greasy spoon food, and prices that require a loan to eat there regularly; and yet one was jammed full of people on a warm Friday night and the other was almost empty. In the end, I was content to wait for my order, but I certainly was not prepared to wait without even be acknowledged so I could even make my order. It seems judging by the lineups at the first restaurant that I was not alone. In youth ministry we are always tempted with the notion that a bigger and better event will bring out the kids, but the truth is that their greatest desire is to be acknowledged and loved. Yes I do my best to do fun things, and yes I definitely strive to teach the bible well, but it starts with our youth knowing that when they walk in the door they are "home" and will be recognized as such. It's the knowledge that they are known and welcomed that opens the door for the rest. The gospel after all is a story about love.... the greatest love.Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-84496090235273135572016-03-25T17:41:00.000-05:002016-03-25T17:41:03.613-05:00A Potty Mouthed Artificial Teenager and What Makes Friday GoodThis week Microsoft introduced us to Tay, an artificial intelligence based chatbot that would interact with users (aiming for the late teens and early 20's) via Twitter, KIK, and other social media outlets. If everything I just said makes no sense to you, just imagine texting with a robot and receiving an intelligent response. Tay, like other AI bots in the past would learn from her interactions to become more and more human, and sadly that's exactly what happened. Some internet users quickly realized that if they coordinated their conversations with Tay correctly they could influence her responses to others, and soon Tay was using racial slurs and denying the holocaust. It escalated very quickly and Microsoft was forced to pull Tay offline for some important adjustments.<br />
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This has happened before, including in 2014 to programmer Anthony Garvan who's own chatbot quickly became a racist after he exposed it to social media. Garvan published a blog post response to the Tay fiasco on Thursday and I found one particular quote absolutely fascinating.<br />
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"I believe that Microsoft, and the rest of the machine learning community, has become so swept up in the power and magic of data that they forget that data still comes from the deeply flawed world we live in." <a href="https://medium.com/@anthonygarvan/hey-microsoft-the-internet-made-my-bot-racist-too-d897fa847232#.16zbhp4w9" target="_blank">Source</a></blockquote>
Yes, we live in a deeply flawed world and it's not just the internet trolls who set out to make an internet robot say bad words. It's all of us and we need help. We can have the best intentions, we can attempt to cleanse our thoughts, we can do every good deed we can imagine, and still we will never get it right at every moment. Whether we believe in the concept of a god or not we all hold a moral compass of some sort telling us what's right and wrong, and yet our own consciences prove that we can't even live up to our own expectations.<br />
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This is where the Good in Good Friday comes in. Our perfect creator saw the path we would take and from the beginning of creation His plan was to show us his grace through Jesus (2 Timothy 1:9). Throughout the entire Old Testament we see God demonstrate His holiness and we see His people turn away time after time from even the simplest of commands (commands that were designed for their own good), and yet even that was part of His plan as the people would see time and time again how much they actually needed God (Romans 5:20). And then, at just the right time in history a baby was born in the town of Bethlehem ...<br />
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If the biblical account is true, God stepped down to earth in the form of a human being and lived a life just as we live. He experienced life as a child learning to listen to his parents, as a teenager going through puberty, as an everyday Joe doing his job, as a mentor followed by others, as a friend who would be abandoned by those closest to Him.... but with one difference in that He never went against God's will. We are flawed; He wasn't. When His teaching threatened the religious leaders who relied on fear to rule the people He was arrested and executed as a common criminal... still all according to His perfect plan from the beginning of time itself. The due consequence of our disobedience to God is separation from Him who is all that is Good, and yet we read that Jesus took that punishment upon Himself so we don't have to experience it (2 Corinthians 5:21).<br />
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We are deeply flawed, and yet when we accept the forgiveness that Jesus freely offers, we are perfect and clean in His sight. Jesus took the "death" we deserve upon Himself, and then defeated it by rising again as we will celebrate this Easter Sunday. Nothing we can ever do will bring us true peace, and yet Jesus offers it freely.<br />
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"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16 NIV<br />
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Happy Easter.<br />
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-ben<br />
<br />Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-14249687210668123032015-12-29T00:54:00.001-06:002015-12-29T00:54:25.063-06:00Every Moment MattersDriving home this evening from visiting friends I drove past a church that I once considered attending as a teenager. I was immediately hit with the sobering question of what my life might be like today if I had attended that church instead of the one I ended up attending, the church I still call home twenty years later. The simple story is that I was invited by a friend, but the bigger picture takes me back further to a completely unrelated conversation with my grade 11 history teacher.<br />
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I was nearing the end of Grade 11 and holding very good marks in history and my teacher approached me recommending that I take a special level world issue course the next year. Although at that age my confidence level was quite low, this teacher's confidence in me convinced me to step out of my comfort zone and take this course setting a chain of events in place that would lead me to where I am today. In taking that course I was required to complete volunteer hours. I chose to volunteer my time at Youth for Christ, leading me to meet Harvey who would quickly become a close friend. Harvey, seeing that I was not connected to a church, invited me to his. I was welcomed warmly and within less than a year was baptized into membership. The next month I began my first summer of camp ministry which soon transitioned into a year round ministry position financially supported strongly by my church family. Eventually the call came to move into pastoral ministry in this same church, starting with worship ministry, adding small groups to my responsibilities, and then exchanging small groups for middle school ministry where I am still serving today.<br />
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As I traced these things back I was struck by how different my life would be if my teacher had not had that simple encouraging conversation with me. It is quite possible that my life would be almost unrecognizable from what it is now and it shook me because of how the last few days have been such a reminder to me of the blessing of friendship and community that I enjoy. My lesson from this is that every moment we spend with others matters and may in fact be eternally significant. As a youth pastor I will never be able to pick and choose which moments with my kids will be impacting. I don't know if it will be a opportunity I offered, an encouragement I gave, or something I taught from scripture, or even just some time spent together. I pray it's not the time I lost my temper, the need for attention I ignored, or the opportunity I failed to give because I wasn't watching close enough to see the gift God was forming inside of someone. I can only pray for God's grace that my impact, every day and every moment, will be positive and that the good things will be remembered.<br />
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<br />Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-31134658057824816892015-04-24T15:31:00.000-05:002015-04-24T15:45:19.006-05:00My LighthouseAfter another late night at church I turned on the TV for some mindless entertainment and was instead enthralled by the account of a mission hospital ship in its travels to West Africa. While the focus of the show was on the ship itself, my interest was in the human element and I was fascinated by the way these people worked together with a common goal in mind of bringing hospital care to those who would never otherwise have it. As the show began the ship was docked safely at port, but it was soon revealed that a storm was coming and so despite the clear sky and calm waters the crew were doing everything they could to prepare the ship for the storm.<br />
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As detailed as their preparation was, the storm was a severe one and the ship did not come out unscathed. In the rocking of the waves the food storage area was left a bit of a disaster with eggs, flour, and milk spilling and mixing. All in all it was a minor incident, but it proved that even the best preparation doesn't mean complete escape.<br />
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We all hit storms in life; I happen to be in one that feels like it's gone on for far too long and all it took was looking at an email today to feel like the waves were going to wash over me one more time. As I look back I feel like I've taken all the steps to counter the storm, but the truth is that even the best plans and intentions don't always mean the storm won't arrive.<br />
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I just bought a new instrument this afternoon, a mandolin, and before I had checked my email I was happily learning how to play a song that has stuck in my head since the day I heard it. Suddenly it was like the storm had sucked the joy out of me; and then I recalled the words of the song I had been worshiping with.<br />
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"My Lighthouse, my Lighthouse, I will trust the promise, You will carry me safe to shore...."<br />
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I have so much to be thankful for, but it's all nothing compared to the treasure I have in Jesus Christ my Saviour. He does and He will carry me safe to shore. As I pick up my mandolin again and go back to worshipping I think I'm going to sing these words with a lot more meaning because they suddenly came to life.<br />
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My Lighthouse - Rend Collective<br />
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<br />Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-63263358120556588782015-04-09T23:30:00.000-05:002015-04-09T23:30:56.410-05:00That last home win.... #gojetsgo #1996The memories are fuzzy. After all, it was 19 years ago. The date was April 21, 1996 and it was Game 3 of the Jets Detroit series. All I remember is noise and a sea of white. There is nothing like playoff hockey in Winnipeg and I was lucky enough to be at the very last home win of the Winnipeg Jets of old as they beat Detroit 4-1.<br />
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Okay, I remember a few other details. I remember at least two of the guys I was with, and I remember that it was impossible to even scream at each other and be heard while sitting side by side. I also remember getting a throat infection from screaming it raw during the game. Yeah, it was really all about the noise....<br />
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Tonight as the Jets 2.0 clinched their first playoff spot for our city since that series I decided to search a little bit and found some video of that game! It's just as crazy as I remember it....<br />
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Playoff hockey is back. I won't get to be in the crowd this time but I think the parties with friends around the TV will be just as fantastic as that final home win so many years ago. I really can't wait... Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-17590143070660145562014-11-05T09:39:00.001-06:002014-11-05T09:39:31.699-06:00Too Busy for God? I must have been around 20 when I heard the sermon as it was still in the old NKMB church building. My good friend Paul was giving what was most likely one of his first sermons as he's not much older than me and he held up his bible and said "you need to read this book every day." While others nodded in agreement my reaction was not as positive. My thoughts were more along the lines of "what kind of religious jargon is..... " I was still a fairly new Christian, 5 years old, and definitely new to church. At that point I didn't get it; I didn't see how daily time in the bible could be that important. In my mind the most important things were to go out and do and at that point I already was. I was getting involved in church, helping with worship in college & career, and volunteering my time at a local inner city youth drop-in centre. Put that on top of being a university student and I was busy. <div>
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That summer was my first serving in camp ministry and if I thought I was busy throughout the year I was shocked to find out what busy really was. Camp days are long, and camp nights, especially when in cabin, are short - far too short. As well, I was trying to be cool, a christian who had it all together and wasn't bound by traditions, something I was taking a bit of pride in at the time. It all changed one morning with the simplest of things; I stumbled into the lounge early in the morning and saw Mike reading his bible with a coffee in hand. Now you gotta know, this was the guy I looked up to. He was leadership staff, he was cool, the kids loved him, he was wise (realizing now beyond his young years), and he was taking the time in the busiest of schedules to make time for God. </div>
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As God would have it, just before the summer I had also been challenged by a college & career bible study where the young couple teaching had given us some tools for how to actually read the bible consistently including a bible reading plan from discipleship journal. It was a "Bible in a Year" plan and it actually took you through 4 short readings from throughout the Bible each day, with a few grace days built into each month. It was just what I needed and that fall (or maybe even starting that summer - I can't remember) I started to spend daily time in my bible. It took some time to find the right "time" and it's also changed through the years. For a couple of years at camp it was sitting up on the rock, reading my bible and then walking in circles as I prayed. For the past 5 years or so it's been getting up at least an hour before I need to be anywhere, making an espresso, and reading my bible in the comfort of my recliner. I don't know what your time is but I do know God has one prepared for you. </div>
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A number of years ago I was challenged by a seminary class to memorize the book of Mark. Okay, now let me be clear, this took a crazy amount of time, but wow did it bring the gospel to life for me. I'm revisiting Mark right now and trying to get back all I've forgotten and I was reminded once again of the importance of daily time with God by Jesus Himself in <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark+1%3A35-39&version=NIV" target="_blank">Mark 1:35-39</a>. In the midst of "the whole town" gathering at Jesus' doorstep, Jesus withdrew by Himself to a solitary place to pray even though everyone was looking for Him. Seeking direction from His Father was more important if He was to care for His sheep. What happened next is even more surprising as His time with God told Him it was time to do something different when a sensible standpoint might have been to focus on the crowd that was suddenly transfixed on His every move. </div>
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How much more is it for us? How much more might God take you in a completely different direction just by spending daily personal time with Him and in His word? Can a Christian actually afford not to take that time?</div>
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The video below is not profound. It's one I made to intro a Boys Club talk a number of years back. In fact, a few of the elementary school boys I showed this video to at the time are now my youth leaders.... hope it's worth a least a chuckle. </div>
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Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-27132467591020502002014-08-13T10:15:00.001-05:002014-08-13T10:15:55.691-05:00Convicting words.I've been working my way through the book of John in my morning devotions this last week. I find it amazing that no matter how often I read through scripture there are always new surprises, things I have never noticed before. Today it was the words of Christ as it regards to the writings of Moses.<br />
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John 5:46-47. 46 For if you believed Moses, you would believe me; for he wrote of me. 47 But if you do not believe his writings, how will you believe my words?"<br />
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I've been reading lots of blog posts recently arguing about how to interpret scripture and about whether it is more important to love Christ or His word as given in the Bible. These words of Christ Himself make very clear to me that the Old Testament is a part of God's revelation of Christ, and we are not given the option so to say of picking and choosing what we like and dislike in order to form our own religious belief system. <br />
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Let's face it, most of us still do it in one way or another, but this statement is a challenge to me that I will get to know and love Jesus more when I start by approaching all scripture with the trust that it is God's word and revelation of Him as a whole. That goes from believing that somehow God created all we see intentionally and with purpose, to clear relevant examples of the consequence of our rebellion against God that as we later read in scripture also show us how much we need Christ, to the truth of a His atoning work on the cross and His resurrection from the dead.<br />
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I don't want to know what my mind tells me Jesus should be. I want to know Jesus. I don't want to love my desires of what saviour means. I want to love Jesus my Saviour. <br />
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<br />Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-91882501374318987272014-05-27T22:46:00.000-05:002014-05-27T22:46:53.237-05:00Worship Leading: Some Simple Thoughts....The other day I was reminiscing with an old friend about our adventures in leading worship as young 20-somethings. When I look at my current 20-something year old worship leaders now I can only express how thankful I am that they are far wiser and serve with far more humility than I did at that age. However, with time comes lessons learned and I'd like to offer some simple thoughts for worship leaders (of any age) to consider when trying to encourage congregational participation (ie. singing) in worship.<br />
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To begin, ask yourself the following question. Are you performing worship or leading people in worship? Performing worship is presenting an art form as an offering to God that is designed to inspire others. There's nothing wrong with it but it is very different than leading others in worship.<br />
If your intent is performance then the following don't really apply. If your intent is congregational participation then you may find the following thoughts helpful.<br />
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1. Know your audience. As worship leaders we often have a yearning to stretch our congregations but our primary responsibility is to lead them into participatory worship. With that in mind pick your songs based on not only your theme for the service event, etc; but also based on what people know and what songs are important to them. Familiarity encourages participation, meaning the better people know the song the stronger they will probably sing. The stronger people sing the more they will encourage those around them to sing as well. It is also amazing the connection you can make with a diverse congregation by just offering one or two songs to a segment of the group that may possibly feel alienated from the rest (ie. a hymn in the familiar melody offered to an older generation). By all means please do introduce new songs from time to time, but introduce them very intentionally by surrounding them with songs that are extra familiar in order to encourage your congregation to continue singing.<br />
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2. Pick singable songs. Yes, this might seem obvious but it isn't always. What is singable to a trained musician may very well not be the majority in your congregation. Songs with multiple timing changes or inconsistent rhythms may be very difficult for many in your congregation to follow. A good test is how long it takes to teach the song to your own vocalists. If you've gone through the song more than twice without them being able to pick up the melody then it's a good indication that it may not work well with your congregation either. On the other hand, I will never forget the first time I heard the song <a href="http://youtu.be/XtwIT8JjddM" target="_blank">10,000 Reasons</a> by Matt Redman. I bought the album the day it was released and listened to it while out for an afternoon drive. I suddenly realized mid-song that I was singing along at the top of my lungs and yet I had never heard the song before and wasn't even all the way through. I knew instantly that it was a keeper and we led it in church that Sunday. Our congregation responded pretty much the same way every other did and it became an instant favourite.<br />
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3. Pick singable keys. For many vocalists the sweet spot in their vocals where they feel the most powerful is far above (or below) what the average person can comfortably sing. When songs are presented in these keys you will find that congregational participation will be quite low. It's important to remember that people will rather hum quietly or just spectate than try to sing in a difficult key. <a href="http://www.kimgentes.com/thinkjump-journal/2011/2/5/vocal-range-engaging-your-community-thinkjump-journal-49-wit.html" target="_blank">Here</a> is a great article that gives some helpful guidelines and rationale for key selection.<br />
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4. Lead songs in a way that the congregation can follow. As musicians there are often things that seem to come naturally including stylized interpretations of melodies and/or harmonies. This does not come naturally to everyone however and if you are adjusting your timing on the fly or constantly augmenting the melody to keep it artistic and fresh, the majority will probably not be able to follow you. This also includes alternative pronunciations of words... "God" is not "gad", and there really isn't ever a reason to insert every vowel into your pronunciation of the word "Hallelujah." (yes, a little tongue in cheek, but I've actually seen it done quite recently)<br />
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4. Be prepared to follow the congregation. If the congregation is singing strong and knows the song differently than you planned to lead it, it is your responsibility to adapt and follow the congregation's lead. When the leader insists on following his or her own direction over the direction of the congregation the singing most often stops cold. I once witnessed an entire arena virtually stop singing a powerful hymn because the worship leader decided to do something different, and after a few awkward notes of trying to follow her they just stopped. Sadly the momentum never really recovered.<br />
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5. Offer opportunities for the voices of the congregation to ring. Step back from the mic and cut the instruments, even if only for a chorus. If you have a singing congregation, they will sing all the stronger. I guarantee you will be blessed and so will the congregation.<br />
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That's it. I hope this has been helpful to you and I'd love to hear some of your thoughts as well. To close, for a little bit of fun check out this great video on <a href="http://youtu.be/GhYuA0Cz8ls" target="_blank">How to Write a Worship Song (in 5 min. or less)</a><br />
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<br />Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-10050863846003057962014-02-22T23:11:00.001-06:002014-02-22T23:34:41.302-06:00Building memories...This evening while looking for some old files online I came across an old photo account that I hadn't posted on in probably over a decade. They were just some dumb animated gif's I drew, but it got me thinking about what else lay in the archives of my various internet accounts. I then started looking back at old emails, finding emails from back to 2005 (sadly any further back has been lost.) What amazed me however was that each email I viewed took me back to a certain place in life because each email was tied to a relationship and a situation. Conversations with kids I was mentoring, ministry discussions with coworkers, planning documents for youth events, songs recorded with an old band.. the memories just went on and on.<br />
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Being a youth minister, whether it's in a pastoral role like mine, or as a camp counsellor, or youth group volunteer, is about sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ through word and action, but it's also about building memories. Do you know what kind of memories I'm talking about? I'm taking about the kind that bring a smile when they come to you years down the road. Sometimes they're from silly situations, like a youth event where someone just went over the top to create an atmosphere of fun that stuck in your head and stayed there. Sometimes they're from talks where you realized that someone was finally listening to you and you didn't have to prove anything or be anyone other than yourself. Sometimes they're from just remembering that someone cared enough to spend time with you. <br />
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I'm learning more and more about what it means to build intentional memories. By intentional I mean that they are tied to the gospel. I've had the following situation happen to me twice now, and some other former coworkers had the almost identical situation as well: running into former campers of ours who recognize us, mention the camp, and exclaim, "F--- that place was awesome." I'm serious... and here's why it means so much to me. In a camp where the majority of campers were not from church backgrounds we were very serious and intentional about sharing the gospel. While there were many who never did accept what we had to say it is a comfort to know that they still had an amazing time with us because our goal was to give them the best week of their lives. What we did was create a positive memory bridge to the gospel and we never know when that seed planted might just sprout.<br />
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What saddens me is when people, especially young people, are left with memories of the other kind, especially when they are tied to the gospel as well. I've seen the effects first hand of inappropriate discipline (whether it be from parents or christian leaders) and of cold legalism. There is nothing sadder than seeing a student equate the sins of others against them to the gospel of Jesus Christ and you need to know that your actions DO have an impact. Sometimes the negative impact is far more than you might ever imagined and I know because I've seen it and heard it from many students I've cared for over the years. I know I've been guilty of it myself (<a href="http://www.awarmcupofcoffee.com/2012/05/camp-talk-i-shouldnt-have-given.html" target="_blank">just read this post of mine from 2012</a>) and I am thankful that God's grace is enough to cover my sins. However, it also means I desire to grow and do better and that is my prayer for all of us.<br />
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Tomorrow morning I have the privilege of teaching another sunday school class. I don't know what privilege you have tomorrow morning, but you do have something, and you have the opportunity to make a memory.... Let's make some good ones.Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-35151678242120592342013-11-10T21:01:00.000-06:002013-11-10T21:01:00.317-06:00I Remember.I remember those cold November mornings as our boy scout troop would line up in uniform in the parking lot of the Transcona Legion to pay our respects to the soldiers as they marched by. Some of them were very old, gingerly but proudly marching along Regent Avenue in their crisp navy blue uniforms as the drums and bagpipes played in step. The moment of silence was always jarring as I would watch the wisps of my breath twirl in the cold air. These memories came back to me tonight at the strangest of times as I was reminded that we now live in a very different time.<br />
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The Jets game is on the TV beside me, and during intermission they just finished interviewing a World War II veteran who is a mainstay fan of all our city's major teams. Seeing this elderly man, hearing his stories of days of old, and then seeing his demeanour change as the war was mentioned brought me back to the Remembrance Day parades of my youth, but with a stunning realization. The elderly men I remember so gingerly but proudly marching along as a child were veterans of World War I, the Great War. My great grandfather who passed away when I was 5 had been one of them. At that time, the veterans of World War II were the stronger looking uniformed men in their late 50s and 60s who marched alongside these regal elderly soldiers. </div>
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Almost 30 years has passed since those days and the veterans of the Great War are long passed. The last Canadian veteran of WWI died at 109 years old almost 4 years ago now. The WWII veterans remaining are the elderly ones now, but the horror of war has continued. I have friends who have experienced that horror, wearing the Canadian flag into battle in Afghanistan and experiencing things I cannot begin to imagine. </div>
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I hate war. I hate the thought of it and I hate the consequences of it. Where I struggle is with the necessity of it. Questions abound in my mind like what if the world had not resisted Hiltler's attempted extermination of the Jewish race? What if we had let Taliban continue their reign of terror unabated in Afghanistan? I hate war, and I have many questions, but one thing is clear. Those who made the ultimate sacrifice and those who fought alongside them have my respect and they have my gratitude. Tomorrow morning I will pause, and I will remember. </div>
Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-81377806633434054862013-09-12T00:44:00.001-05:002013-09-12T00:44:16.888-05:00Just like it was yesterday. Our memory is an amazing thing, one of those incredible gifts that God has fashioned within us that science still cannot fully grasp or understand. Sometimes a memory can lay dormant for years only to be triggered into reality by the most innocuous things. A memory from kindergarten class where you feel like you could almost be in the room again triggered by the sight of an old toy. A smell taking you back to a place you visited in Junior High. There are some memories that lay dormant, hidden until something tells them to make their grand appearance in our minds. Then there are the memories that never leave.<div>
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I woke up to my alarm clock, the same clock radio that still sits beside my bed to this day twelve years later. The station was set to CJOB and I woke up to the morning news. My bed was against the north wall of my bedroom in my apartment I shared with a roommate on in a beautiful but aging brownstone building on Wolseley. The top story shocked me out of bed on a morning that I was going to sleep in as I was still on holidays after a summer at camp. A plane had just hit the World Trade Centre and casualties were expected. I ran across the wooden floor of my bedroom and into the hallway telling my roommate, who was just getting ready to leave for work what I had just heard. I turned on my small 12 inch tv sitting right beside the fireplace in the living room and began to watch CNN's live coverage. My roommate left for work and I continued to watch alone. </div>
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The news anchor was interviewing a man on the phone from the scene as replays live shots mixed with replays of the building showed on the screen when suddenly the man began screaming in horror. As the news anchor tried to calm him down the realization suddenly sunk in to I'm quite sure everyone watching along with the news anchor at the same time what had actually happened. The airplane that we had just witnessed flying through the shot was not a military aircraft flying by to offer protection. It had actually flown into the second building before our very eyes. Live on television. Engrained in my mind forever.</div>
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The memories then become a blur. This was when the shock wore off and the fear set in. First came a report that the Pentagon was on fire. Then that the White House was being evacuated. America was under attack and their primary buildings of power were being threatened. You must remember there was no twitter yet and the internet, though highly advanced from where it had been a few years before, was still primarily static images with very little video content. CNN was my news source and I was glued to it. I actually don't remember watching the first building collapse even though I know I did. It was a numb feeling of disbelief mixed in with a little bit of awe at the scope of the destruction. By the time the second building collapsed however the numbness had been replaced with a shattering understanding of what I was witnessing. I was watching thousands of people die before my eyes and as the building fell I was yelling at the tv, "No...... no no no....."</div>
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Fast forward a week or two... for the longest time the skies had been silent as all air traffic was grounded. I was in my parents backyard as I first heard a plane fly overhead and what had once been the most normal sound in the world was now the strangest and most foreboding. The world really had changed. Or had it? Has it now?</div>
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Here I sit 12 years later. My hair is thinning and lines are forming under my eyes. My formally completely uncoordinated body though more than a decade older now has a green belt in karate. I'm still at the same church but I've gone from missionary, lay preacher, and worship leader to Associate Pastor. Even in that role there have been changes over the last 4 years. Once again however I am working with youth and honestly my desk still has many of the same things on it that it did those 12 years ago. And as for the world? Yes, it definitely became less trusting that day. Flying anywhere became much more of a hassle - regulations on what could pack or carry on became more important than the ever had been. The uttering of anything in Arabic became aroused automatic fear and suspicion. Wars were fought and thousands lost their lives, many just as innocent as those on the planes that crashed into the towers. Yet here we are and some things haven't changed. The Taliban still controls more of Afghanistan than we'd ever like to admit and atrocities are committed every day. The Middle East is a power keg and the US and Russia are arguing what to do about it. Technology has changed of course, but really it's just allowed us to know the same things that little bit faster. There is nothing new under the sun....</div>
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except...</div>
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<i>Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23 NIV. </i></div>
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His compassions are new every morning. This is why I can relive these memories and not give up hope. This is why I can look at a sad hurting world and remember that God is still in control and He has not turned His back on humanity. That is why I can look in the mirror and see that despite my sinful nature that cuts the the very heart of my soul He has forgiven me and purified me like a dazzling white robe, brighter than any bleach could produce. You see, I have another memory that goes much further back and remains with me like it was yesterday. It was the day that at 15 years old I welcomed Christ into my life..... I'll tell you the story if you ever want to hear it but it's much better in person, over coffee. :)</div>
Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-8425562001930420292013-09-10T00:54:00.002-05:002013-09-10T00:54:55.257-05:00On Karate... and CommunityI don't tend to make much of milestones, but I was surprised to realize that as of somewhere this week I have now been on staff at my church for 4 years. It seriously seems like yesterday that I was meeting with the search team discussing my application, and although the time has flown by I also feel like I'm only beginning to get an idea of what I'm actually doing and how to do it. That however is an aside because I'm celebrating another milestone this week as well. Our Karate ministry is 1 year old.<br />
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Karate? Ministry? In a Mennonite Brethren church? I suppose I should share some background, and it all started somewhere in July 2012 when I met with a member of our church about a crazy idea he had. You see, he works for a local christian ministry organization and his coworker happened to run his own karate dojo in south end of the city. Our subsequent meeting with Sensei Deo seems like an eternity ago mainly because of the great friend he has become. Here was this congolese man with a heavy accent sharing with me the peace emphasis of the sport of karate while trying to see our church would be interested in joining with him in setting up a christian based dojo.<br />
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There were a few things that stood out to me that made me incredibly passionate about the possibility of a karate ministry from the very beginning. One was the fact that it would be open to young and old. Another was the clear peacemaking foundation of this style of karate, Meibukan Goju Ryu. Finally, it was Deo Sensei's own clear passion for the sport as a Christ follower and for leading it as a ministry. After checking to see if this was something I could just go ahead with (and it pretty much was) I decided to dive right in and book some rooms in the church, put up a few posters, and give things a try. Here we were, for our first class a bunch of guys between the ages of eight and fortysomething in a room learning karate in sweat pants. By the third week we had our uniforms, white and crisp, and the real fun began.<br />
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The year had its challenges. Having been booked last minute on a night of the week that was often busy we were moved from room to room and yet our new little dojo continued to grow and grow. One person this week, another couple the next, a wife, a daughter, a friend.... and soon we began to realize that we had a really cool community coming together. It was midway into the year that a few of us decided to up the ante ministry wise, to move from just a community gathering into a time of actually sharing the gospel, and with the encouragement of our Sensei I began sharing a weekly devotional during our water break. Around this time as well a friend and I had the opportunity to attend a training seminar at another local dojo. It was an incredible privilege for us to experience the warmth and hospitality of the greater Goju Ryu community while representing a dojo with Christ as its cornerstone. </div>
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In March tragedy struck as our Sensei's young niece died after what should have been routine surgery. Here once again however I was struck by the love and care of the karate community as my friend and I attended the funeral, and it was also my first real introduction to the Congolese community that makes up much of our Sensei's other dojo (and his family). Soon after we made our first trips out to the southend of the city to train with them and were welcomed warmly. More and more often our Sensei would bring his family and students from his other dojo to ours and we would travel to theirs, and I would say that this culminated in a joint grading evening we held at our church with members of both dojos. It was an incredible and beautiful joining of our communities both during the grading and in the celebration afterwards.</div>
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In mid-June we were blessed to have Mondays open up for us with the ability to use our incredibly suitable church gym for our lessons and even throughout the summer we have continued to grow. With an exciting new season ahead, we were given a surprise once again as our Sensei had found out that he would be required to re-locate out of province for the year as he began his PhD studies. Through his diligent preparation he was able to secure assistance in instructing us this year as he is away (although thankfully he will be able to join us occasionally.) The awesome part is that through this the community continues to grow and our joy with it. This evening as I looked around the very big circle around me as we sat down for our devotional I shared the story of the very first christians from the book of Acts and how they built their community. I shared the challenge to honour God by caring for others instead of choosing to honour ourselves. As we prayed I thanked God for the gifts He has given us, and then after I was done we got up and celebrated once more as some of us moved up in our belt rankings once again.</div>
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So, what are our dreams for the future? What will this ministry look like moving forward? For now, it will continue to be a ministry of building Christian community while encouraging respect, discipline, peacemaking, and a healthy lifestyle. We will continue to share scripture based devotionals from week to week and we will continue to care for each other. As some of us move closer to being able to offer instruction ourselves, the greater dream is to move intentionally deeper into our surrounding community where there is what I perceive to be a very strong need for this kind of activity to be offered while sharing the love of Christ. </div>
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Happy 1st Anniversary to the North Kildonan Meibukan Goju Ryu Dojo - a family that I am blessed to be a part of.</div>
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<br />Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-48283929500200025412013-06-26T23:19:00.003-05:002013-06-26T23:19:58.591-05:00To all summer ministry workers.... Next week I get to do something very special to me - I get to go out to summer camp and spend a few days working with young ministry leaders sharing some of what I have learned so far about the importance of long term ministry and how to survive it. There's a number of topics I am mulling over and working through in my head right now:<br />
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Living in a Christian Bubble - Shockproof & all loving<br />
Long Term Ministry - Why even think this way?<br />
What to do in the down times - They WILL come<br />
Reading Your Bible - The Whole Deal<br />
Every Missionary is a Long Term Missionary - No, seriously....<br />
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These topics will become quite a bit more refined in the next few days and there will be additions and subtractions, but I feel compelled to write about the last one tonight as many I know are preparing to or have already left for summer camp or other summer ministries.<br />
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If you are one of the above, you ARE a long term missionary. Your official term may be short, but the relationships you build will last much longer and therefore the responsibility will remain. One of the craziest things I experience more often than I can even count is people coming up to me and calling me by name because they remember me from camp years and years ago. The nature of the ministry I worked in previously was that many of these people as young campers were like myself - coming from non church attending homes and basically being introduced to the Christian faith through our ministry. There are some who grasped on to Jesus like I did after a number of years, and there are of course many who did not. When I see them in person, or when I post on facebook knowing they are following me, or most importantly when I live out my life (as often as I do of course fail), I still feel a tremendous responsibility to both.<br />
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<b>To those who became Christ followers:</b> Paul teaches us clearly in 1 Corinthians 8:13 to put others above ourselves, and this sticks with me when thinking about those who I have had a hand in mentoring into the Christian faith. They will most likely always look to me as an example, just as I still look to those who mentored me. As much as I believe God's promise that He will never allow His children to fall away, I know full well that things I do have the potential to hinder ones walk with Christ even years down the road by nature of the fact that they look up to me. My responsibility didn't end when I left summer camp - it only grew.<br />
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<b>To those who did not become Christ followers:</b> It's easy to live the "good christian life" in the camp setting. Guess what though? Your testimony of faith will be greatly compromised if the life you live in the christian bubble does not line up with the life you live outside of it, and I promise you that they will be watching. They will be watching to see if you really believe what you teach, and the adage holds true that actions most often speak louder than words. Are you willing to give them the time of day when they see you a few years down the road? Are you willing to be there for them even if its been so long that your own memory of them is fading? Are you living out the faith that you taught, or have you now put it to the side to pursue worldly pleasure?<br />
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You may be thinking that this is a more appropriate teaching for those who have been in ministry and need to now be reminded of the responsibility they took on. However, I truly think that this realization needs to start at the beginning and not later on. This is a great time in life to examine your own faith walk, to discern the places where you struggle (and we ALL struggle in one place or another), and to go into this summer intent on growing and taking full advantage of the Christian community around you to help you do so. You have not "arrived" in your faith journey, and won't until you stand before Christ in eternity. With that in mind, walk humbly into this summer of ministry ready to be challenged in your faith walk and ready to grow under the wise counsel of others. Be fearful, and I mean this in a positive way, of the responsibility that God has entrusted to you, and look to Him for the ability to be faithful. Finally, rejoice that by the grace of God you are able to serve Him and that you will in fact build amazing relationships that will last longer than you can even wrap your head around right now.<br />
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To all summer ministry workers I close with this. God Bless you as you serve. You really are my heros.<br />
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ben.Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-13854948411249020092013-05-07T00:19:00.000-05:002013-05-07T00:19:03.449-05:00The Story Behind the Song Part 1 - When God Calls Your NameThis has definitely been a season for me. It's been one of great joy but also great challenge. Moving back into youth ministry has felt like putting on a comfortable pair of old pants, only to realize that when you change your pants often the rest of the wardrobe needs to be modified as well. I'm still learning how to balance Sundays where I'm always on... leading worship for the congregation while also teaching a sunday school lesson. I'm still learning how to balance youth events that happen weekly with interruptions to my normal routine that take time that often isn't there, like funerals. I'm still learning how to stop and rest... especially after a week where there is none at all. <br />
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One of my ways of coping with the busyness of life (and especially ministry) has been to write songs, sometimes based on scripture, sometimes based purely on emotion, but always detailing a personal cry to God to meet me in the here and now; to be my strength when I have none. As I tell some of these stories about how certain songs have come to be, I am doing so to remind myself of my own personal love for God's gift of music and how it can be used to celebrate, mourn, lament, and to heal. It's been a dry time for me when it comes to music, and if God wills it I think it's time to start writing again....</div>
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<b><u>When God Calls Your Name</u></b></div>
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Today's story is a simple one. It was 1998 and I was working at Discovery Zone entertaining small children when I got the phone call. My friend Eldon was calling to let me know that our pastors wife had just passed away. It was a complete shock as I didn't know she was unwell. I guess I had never really processed the fact that I had never met her, but in fact she had been unwell for a long time. My reaction was to begin writing a song that evening and I remember sitting in my room just talking through the promises of God in my head, especially the promises regarding eternity and salvation. As the song came together it became a question and answer kind of deal.... When God Calls Your Name, where are you going? Do you know the pain is going to end? Did you take His love and make it part of you? ... </div>
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I can't remember for sure, but I think most of the song was written in one night... </div>
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Here are the lyrics....</div>
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When God calls your name, where are you going</div>
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When your life here ends, where will you be</div>
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Did you take His love and make it part of you</div>
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Did you take the gift of eternity</div>
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Chorus:</div>
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When God calls your name, are you going home</div>
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To sit beside Him in His majesty</div>
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Will you be kneeling at His throne</div>
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Filled with the glory of the Trinity</div>
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Did you know the pain is going to end</div>
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Did you know the glory will never cease</div>
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Do you trust His promise to stay faithful</div>
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Will you lay yourself down on your knees</div>
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Chorus</div>
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When God calls your name, you can go home</div>
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Your debt was paid for long ago</div>
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Just take His hand and let Him in</div>
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Have faith in the goodness of the Lord</div>
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==</div>
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I recorded this song with my old band Fifty Five as part of an unpublished album... </div>
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Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-23559643012577866982013-05-04T12:19:00.000-05:002013-05-04T12:19:40.002-05:00Judging by appearance. A number of years ago in a ministry I previously served in a set of glossy professionally printed posters were ordered to put on the walls detailing the life transformation that Christ offers. Unfortunately, the only message that was really clear in these posters was that God desires to take scruffy urban kids, clean up their clothing, and make them productive members of society with a sensible haircut to boot. Themes included "I was a taker, now I'm a giver," or "I was a loser, now I'm a teacher," coupled with before and after pictures apparently direct from getty images detailing the physical change that follows the change in ones heart, or at least ones mindset.<br />
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I was baptized by confession of faith into membership at the church where I now serve as an Associate Pastor back in 1996 at 20 years of age. I didn't know until many years later that after my testimony one of our pastors had to assure some older members that I was in fact a christian and my testimony was in fact valid even though I had two earrings in my left ear. I'm very thankful to this day that I wasn't told about this at the time. As a young christian positively overwhelmed by the love of Christ I was experiencing from my new church family, I don't think I would have understood such a negative fixation on physical matters, especially one so minimal.<br />
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With this in mind, I was sad to open up my denominational magazine yesterday to see an article about prodigal children who don't return illustrated by a color photo of a young man with a facial piercing and a red bandana. In that picture I saw one of my worship leaders, I saw one of my youth leaders, I saw a number of my youth; all who passionately love and serve the Lord. It hurt to think that assumptions are still made about who has fallen away from the faith based purely on appearance. Knowing the editorial staff behind this piece I know this wasn't the intention, but the fact that this picture made sense to use as the illustration at all says something about how we still look at things.<br />
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When God sent the prophet Samuel to anoint one of Jesse's sons as the new king of Israel, Samuel naturally first chose the one who looked most like a king. However, God quickly rejected Eliab with these words from 1 Samuel 16:7. <i>"The Lord doesn't see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."</i><br />
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I guess this starts with me because I know I do it to.... <i>God, I pray for the wisdom to look at the heart first and foremost.... </i><br />
<i><br /></i>Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-25572167294962357922013-02-27T23:39:00.000-06:002013-02-27T23:39:29.394-06:00The old identity is gone. It was only as I was driving home tonight that it hit me why I had been so nervous. I should have known it, but when you are in the thick of things sometimes the mind doesn't really see the obvious and so I just chalked it up to being nervous for the sake of being nervous. However, as made my way home it all came flooding back. In my life I have had many identities so to say - son, student, coworker, mentor, pastor, friend; but through all that one that has stuck with me in a much more personal way has been that of being awkward, uncoordinated, and generally un-athletic.<br />
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Field day in elementary school and Junior High was always a time of great anguish for me. It was the day every year that I got to show in front of everyone how I couldn't run properly, jump a hurdle, throw or catch a ball, you name it. When I was in grade 7 I played baseball because my parents thought I should be in a sport. It was unfortunate that I was afraid of the ball flying at me, whether it was from a pitcher or from a bat hitting it into the field. I was even terrified of those silly games you play at camp because they still seemed to at least involve some sense of physical ability and as far as I was concerned I had none at all.<br />
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As I grew older I began to embrace this identity and have fun with it. I'd make jokes about my lack of physical abilities and even try to use it as a way to encourage other young people who suffered the same apparent genetic fate I did. However, I'd still try to overcome it and things would always go wrong. I'd try to run, and my asthma would kick in. I spent a year lifting weights and then I tore a muscle lifting a silly drum riser and watched all my progress disappear. Come to think of it, I don't actually know what I was thinking when I joined Karate..... besides maybe some good fellowship time with friends and a fun diversion from the busyness of life.<br />
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Things started to change about a month ago after a period of craziness in the office where I honestly didn't know whether I was coming or going. I finally started to buckle down and learn one of the katas... a system of moves in Karate that must be memorized. I learned the easier one, but the more difficult one always seemed out of my reach. It came to a head last week when our Sensei was evaluating us to see if we were ready for our transition to the yellow belt and I was sure I wasn't ready. Out loud I would say that I just needed more practice and that I was sure I'd get there next round, but inside the old identity still stuck with me. "You won't actually do this. You'll give up. You are not near coordinated enough to ever pull this off." Then that evening something stunning happened. As our Sensei handed out the letters of promotion, he called my name. My Sensei picked me.<br />
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This last week has been such a battle because on one hand I was chosen, but on the other, I was still convinced that my identity would never change. As much as I practiced and practiced there was a voice inside of me saying that I would never really do it, that my identity was never to change. I realize now it's the same voice that tells me that my battle with temptation and disobedience to God will never change either. I try and try to do good (much like Paul writes in Romans 7) but I just can't ever get it right and I feel deep inside like there is no hope.<br />
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In 2 Corinthians 5:17 we read a powerful promise; "This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!" What's important to remember is that Christ chose us first.... "But God showed His great love for us by sending Christ who died for us while we were still sinners." - Romans 5:8. Just like my Sensei picked me, I must remember every day that Christ chose me, and not only did He choose me, but He gave His life for me. It's a powerful powerful thing that I still struggle to wrap my mind around. Even more amazing to me is the promise with that that those who belong to Him have become new persons.... <br />
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This evening at 37 years old I received my yellow belt in Gojo Ryu Karate. While to some the first belt may not be the biggest deal, to me it is proof that that old identity that I carried sometimes like a burden and always like it was forever has ceased to be. By receiving a single certificate my identity has changed - the old life has gone and a new life has begun. How much more has a new life begun from the moment God lead me to accept His forgiveness and move forward as a new creation in Him.<br />
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<br />Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-90249344007529093742013-02-06T23:26:00.000-06:002013-02-06T23:26:47.320-06:00A new adventure has begun.I like to tell people that I'm not afraid of change. In fact, I have 3 Toonies, 8 quarters, and two dimes in my pocket and it doesn't even bother me. In all seriousness though change can be a scary thing, especially when it involves a huge chunk of your life. However when change happens in the context of a loving and supportive family the fear melts away very quickly, and in my case it has been replaced with excitement for the future.<br />
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NKMB became my church home the very first day I visited. A handshake at the door and an immediate introduction to others my age who intentionally took me in to their inner circle of friends meant that NKMB became not only my church, but my family in Christ. It was a family who graciously allowed me to grow into a worship leader over many years while forgiving my faults along the way (including that false assumption when I was young that every song and hymn needed to be done with three power chords and full distortion). It was a family who through individuals and as a church whole provided me a solid financial platform as a support raising urban missionary more so than many in my organization who had grown up in church and had all the lifelong connections I did not have. It was a family who, at what I realize was just the right time, called me into pastoral ministry and who had discipled me along the way to that point so that the transition was about as smooth as one can really experience.<br />
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As a pastoral team, a family in itself in many ways, I am so thankful for the way we have supported each other in ministry and for the strong friendships we have. With that support and friendship has come the ability to work together and share each others burdens in ministry. I don't take for granted the fact that this is not always the case in church work and I am thankful everyday for it. In sharing our lives with each other has also come a hugely important thing: the trust to speak into each others lives and the trust that we are working together for a common goal and never in competition. For the last few months this trust and care has led our team to discuss how we can all grow in serving our church family with excellence, and it has allowed us to dream of how we can each grow personally in our mission and leadership.<br />
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Relating to youth has been something God has graciously gifted in since I was 16 years old and first started volunteering my time at a drop in centre visited by mainly at risk young people. In my 14 years with Camp Cedarwood I had the privilege to not only learn and grow in my position as a mentor, but to watch others raise up and eventually do my job better than I ever did. I actually consider that an ultimate success of leadership - work yourself out of a job. When I made the decision to leave vocational youth work behind in my call to serve as pastor of worship and small groups, I feel blessed that I was still able to keep some sense of involvement with the youth, mostly related to worship (mentoring youth night worship team, leading worship for elementary students monthly, etc), but I actually thought that my time as an official youth person was over. It wasn't a desire for that to be the case, but I was at peace with the fact that it was where God had taken me. Then... well then came the call to consider moving back into youth ministry. Besides logistics that had to be worked out I felt an incredible peace from the very beginning about the concept, and these last few weeks of the transition being official have brought me much joy along with the craziness of a new schedule and new expectations. While continuing to shepherd the worship ministry at NKMB, I am now as well the Pastor of Junior High ministries. Making music and mentoring young people - the two things that bring me the greatest joy.... how awesome is that?<br />
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There is much for me to learn once again and much for me to remember as well, but my philosophy of ministry remains simple. Love. Love the students, love the leaders, love the church, and above all love God. I'm sure not perfect at it and I certainly pray that God will enable me to grow in love and in ability, but I'm sure excited for adventure that lies ahead.<br />
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<br />Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-20024804286243130682012-12-17T19:34:00.002-06:002012-12-17T19:34:43.007-06:00Feet up on my desk (and the bottomless chocolate bowl)I don't know what it was about the scene that made it so funny. As I walked in to "confront" the group of young teens and pre-teens who routinely take over my office after the 11am service, it was just hilarious to see one of them stretched back in my desk chair, feet up on my desk, with his ever mischievous grin on his face. Others were either in the midst of hiding my stuff (like my coffee pods, white board markers, novelty buttons...) or finishing the chocolate from the usually bottomless chocolate bowl on my desk. I tried my hardest to give an annoyed face, but they know me far too well and this only caused the laughter to increase.<br />
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The chocolate bowl was something I introduced to my desk the very first week I was on staff, along with the Keurig machine and a desktop bowling set. My original rationale was simple: my office should be inviting and warm... and maybe just a little bit fun. Then I started roaming the halls on Sunday mornings to say hi to people and a certain group of grade 5 boys discovered that it was fun to attack me when I wasn't looking as I ventured into the main sunday school room. Soon these "attacks" moved to the hallways and soon in looking into my office they discovered the chocolate bowl on the desk. I think it was somewhere around the time they were in grade 6 that they began appearing on stage as soon as the service ended asking permission to go into my office for a chocolate, and soon enough I'd just give them my keys if i was busy on stage... and well... the party has continued.<br />
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Here's the thing... it's not about chocolate. It's about trust and care, and it really gets to the point of a core value of mine - sharing the love of Christ through meaningful relationships. A meaningful relationship includes the trust that I can hand a 13 year old my keys and know they won't be used for wrong, or that I can allow a group of students to hide stuff all over my office knowing that they respect the rules of which drawers not to go into... Now let's face it... this is important for all ages. There are almost as many adults as kids who stop in for a chocolate... or sometimes a cup of quality coffee, and the most important part is the conversation as those little things are enjoyed. However, there are formative years when trust begins, and when questions of faith begin to percolate in the brain, and it is very important that these young friends know that as their pastor not only do I care about them as friends, but that they can trust me when those questions come and they need some help finding the answers.<br />
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<i>1 Corinthians 13:13 "Three things will last forever - faith, hope, and love - and the greatest of these is love."</i><br />
<br />Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-84346099701830054852012-12-15T01:10:00.001-06:002012-12-15T01:10:06.935-06:00A hug....A bear hug. The kind of hug where you shake the person around a little bit. As guys, when we hug each other, those are hugs. I was discussing the physicality with which men relate the other day with a friend of mine, and we talked about our similar experience in working with kids; especially of how much a hug can signify in terms of care and love. When I give one of my "kids" a hug, whether it be the elementary or junior high boys who lovingly invade my office each Sunday, my senior high boys who I have been so privileged to watch (and walk alongside with) growing up, or my boys who have now moved into that world of adulthood... it's the same deal - I give a hug that shows I mean it.<br />
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With this is mind, today I am reminded of why it's so important. A hug signifies love and care, but you also never ever know if it's going to be the last one. I'm not a parent... I often wish I was but at the same time I know I have been blessed beyond what I ever could deserve to have been a caregiver to so many over the years. Still, as much as I love my "kids" with my heart and soul, I cannot imagine what it would be like as a parent to lose a child, to never have another hug. The idea of losing anyone I know and love fills me with so much dread as it is... and like I said, I'm not even an actual parent. The thing is... life can end in a moment.<br />
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What will I remember from today, a day when 20 elementary children were shot to death in their classroom? I will remember to say a kind word of encouragement - to do an act of service - to do something to remind those I love that I really do love them. Most of all, I will remember to give a hug, and to give it like it may be the last even though I will pray for many many more. Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-61479362901956184762012-11-24T22:53:00.000-06:002012-11-25T20:24:19.851-06:00Laughter, and using it to serve it's Creator...I had a bit of an embarrassing moment a few weeks ago. We were preparing to do a much anticipated bluegrass worship set at church, and as our team gathered in the hallway waiting for the German Service to finish so we could setup our stage one of our team members told me a joke. If you are not Mennonite or thoroughly immersed in the the culture as I am you may not get the humour, but Jon suggested we should call our group "NKM Blaugrass." When I laugh, I tend to really laugh, and in this case I really laughed. After the German Service had ended and we were setting up the stage, my coworker Paulhans, our German Pastor remarked to me, "That must have been a funny joke." It turns out that my proximity to the stage doors during my moment of laughter meant that the sound reverberated through the sanctuary, during the silence of communion... -_-<br />
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I love to laugh, and as anyone who knows me knows, I love to make others laugh as well or at least smile. It probably started as a defence mechanism for me - I learned early on in life that even through my shyness I had the ability to make people laugh. I remember being referred to as the joke telling machine on the schoolyard in elementary school, and making one of my camp counselors double over with laughter as I explained the life cycle of a mosquito somewhere in my early adolescent years. Now let's face it, there is something fun about watching people's reactions to humor, especially if its gently self depreciating, or if its a terrible pun. However, humour can also accomplish something very important. It can put people at ease very quickly.<br />
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I had a conversation with a friend once regarding their slight disapproval of a way they had seen humor used in church by someone sharing a testimony. The point made was that the person had very good things to say and didn't need to use jokes to make the point. The more I've reflected on this argument, the more my thoughts go back to scripture and how Jesus especially used humor. As Jesus responded to the Pharisees' critique about cerimonial washing he said the following. "Blind Guides! You strain your water so you won't accidentally swallow a gnat, but you swallow a camel!"(Matthew 23:24 NLT) A camel? Let's try this in Winnipeg terms... "You strain your water so you won't accidentally swallow a mosquito, but you swallow a horse!" Can you envision someone trying to swallow a horse without laughing at the thought? How about this one? "And why worry about a speck in your friend's eye when you have a log in your own?"(Matthew 7:3 NLT) Can you imagine Jesus delivering this deadpan? You see, Jesus had good important things to say- more than anyone who lived before or will live after, and yet He used wording that would grab attention, and maybe even cause a smirk, a smile, or some outright laughter. As I said already, laughter has the incredible effect of putting one at ease no matter what the situation. When someone has genuinely made you laugh, your relationship with them is forever changed, and this can be a beautiful thing.<br />
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Now I want to be clear - I am not advocating that a sermon be a comedy routine. Just as there are times to be funny, there are times to be serious, and the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ is a serious and important message. So is the reality of sin and our need for forgiveness. Like anything else, there are appropriate and inappropriate times to use humor when sharing the word of God. This however is a skill that is learned over time and must be used with the knowledge that everyone will not be pleased. It also must be prayerfully considered that making people laugh can have the effect of bringing glory to oneself instead of God, and one must humbly and prayerfully consider this temptation in preparation.<br />
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In all my years at my former place of work there was a drawing hung on the wall of Jesus laughing. As the one through whom everything was created, He is the creator of laughter. Is it not then appropriate to honour Him with it?<br />
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<br />Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-83338929625904622702012-11-10T23:07:00.000-06:002012-11-10T23:07:00.567-06:00Making an impactI don't there there was ever a point in my life where I said to myself, "I'm going to be a youth worker" until I was a youth worker. It just basically kind of happened when I started volunteering my time at a drop-in centre for at-risk teenagers when I myself was only 16 years old. As would become my pattern, I stayed with that drop in centre for over 6 years, even as I transitioned into full time mentorship/discipling of teenagers in the same organization's summer camp ministry. After 14 years on staff with the camp, I made yet another transition into my current role as an associate pastor. Here, even though youth is not one of my official responsibilities... well... some things just don't change. The question I ask sometimes however is "how did this happen?" <br />
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There are many influences I could write about, specifically many people who have had a profound impact on my life as mentors. Some I still keep up with to this day and some I don't, but their impact has been profound. However, the other night the name of my grade 5 and 6 teacher Mr. D just popped into my head. I was studying an article when the authors name reminded me of Mr. D, and on a whim I typed his name into facebook and actually found him. At that moment I could do nothing but immediately begin writing a message, a message just saying thank you.<br />
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I've had more time to consider this over the last few days and I've come to the realization that God used Mr. D to established a foundation for me of how to relate to youth. While the years of 1985-86 get fuzzier as time goes by, there are memories from that class that will stay with me forever.<br />
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1. "From the desk of....." At the end (I think) of each school year, Mr. D would give his students each a pen with his name on it... I still have both pens - now just empty shells but still kept safely in my box of memories. While a personalized pen might seem like a very simple trinket, it spoke volumes to me as a pre-teen boy. It felt professional, and it was a reminder that we weren't little kids anymore. It was calling us forward and acknowledging that we were growing up. I think this is a powerful thing to remember for anyone who works with children or teenagers - we can do even the simplest things to recognize potential.<br />
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2. Badges. Mr. D had a badge making machine at home and a big book of badge graphics on his desk. On our birthdays, we had the privilege of picking out our favorite graphic, and then the next day Mr. D would bring us our very own badge. My favorite, still at the cottage with the rest of my childhood badge collection, simply states "Warning, I'm naked under my clothing."<br />
The simplest gifts can be the most profound when they are given with care. As students, we knew our teacher cared because he went out of his way to do something for us that even at that young age we knew was beyond expectations.<br />
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3. Chess Club. One day Mr. D found a group of us playing checkers with the chess board and pieces. He then patiently taught us to play chess, and when it was evident we were having some fun with it, he started a chess club. It certainly wasn't serious - there were no crazy competitions, and yet he did little things to make it feel professional and awesome. The bottom line was, he gave us his time, and he gave it absolutely unselfishly.<br />
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The more I think back, the more things come to mind - but for the sake of finishing this blog and calling it a night I'll stay with those three examples. They are things that have stuck with me, and hopefully even in the smallest of ways I have been able to emulate in my own work with children and youth. You can see however why my first reaction upon finding him on facebook was to say, "thank you."Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-71523243902429478202012-10-12T22:41:00.000-05:002012-10-12T22:41:40.306-05:00I Was BulliedIt was grade 7 when the bullying first began. It's easy to look back and try to discover the reasons why some are bullied and some aren't, but really the reasons don't matter. In the year of Grade 7, a year that can still be one of the most formative in a young persons life, I was bullied physically and I was bullied verbally. Believe it or not, the physical in my case wasn't the worst. I never had the crap beaten out of me like some; I count myself fortunate that it mostly consisted of being pushed around and threatened with violence. In fact, the only punch I ever really received was in return for throwing a punch after I was being shoved around by two boys on the schoolyard. I punched his glasses off and then he punched my glasses off and the tussle began until his friend held my arms back and he kicked me in the.... ahem... yes, I can look back and laugh.<br />
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There were lots of threats, from the boy who would threaten me with a metal bar, to the guys who would gang up and intimidate me to change desks, leave the room, or just shut my mouth. However, in my case the worst of the worst was the verbal bullying. I was a sensitive kid, not in any way physically imposing, and definitely not in with the latest styles, and so the names came quickly. Faggot, homo, wimp, pussy... it went on. (I apologize if I offend anyone... but this is how it was.) They would make fun of my physique, imply their assumptions about my sexuality, mock my slight stutter or the fact that I generally spoke too fast (and of course still do.) </div>
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I tried desperately to fit in, and I sadly admit that I even tried to put myself up a notch on the social ladder by bullying others. I will never forget a boy named Darren in my Junior High. If I had it bad, he had it far, far worse. I at least had friends. He didn't. At least the comments made about me spanned a general spectrum. For him, it was simple. It was decided that he was gay. From there on every thing he did only served as fodder for the mocking comments. I will never know what he truly endured or what direction the rest of his life went, but I am ashamed to admit that I joined in with the chorus of bullying to combat the bullying that I myself was facing every day. </div>
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Every day. In grade 8, I was put in a home room without any friends. Although I did make two good friends over time, I dreaded every single day in that classroom. My teachers, as nice as they were, most often turned a blind eye to the disparaging comments. I'm sure it was easier to just say, "Boys will be boys..." and let it go, and I'm sure they didn't know that there were days that I clearly thought about the concept of suicide. There were days were I was sure that I would not be able to face another day. Being bullied put me immediately on my guard which often made me appear even more awkward and defenceless. After an amazing first summer at camp, my second without my best friend with me was quite a different experience as even there, in my safest place, I became a target. Once again it was verbal, and once again it tore me apart.</div>
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There are many who would never guess that I was the scared bullied young man that I was for my pre-teen and early teen years. When I accepted Christ into my life at 15 years old a change happened. I knew, for the first time in my life without doubt, that I was valuable just the way I was because that was how God had made me. The bullying didn't stop instantly, but my confidence in my own value changed how I processed it, and it allowed me to move past it. Most importantly however, it allowed me to move past being a bully myself. As I said, I was a bully to others, even including my brother who I guess was an easy target. However, there was a change, and by the grace of God I overcame. </div>
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Sometimes you hear a story that just tears your heart out, and today for many it is of a young girl who took her life after a barrage of bullying; physical, verbal, and sexual, that she endured through her early teen years. I am writing this blog for two reasons tonight. 1. If you are being bullied, you need to know that you are NOT alone EVER, and that THERE IS HOPE. 2. If you are a bully, whether it is in the smallest way or whether you know that it's much worse than that, YOU NEED TO STOP. For both of these points, I am convinced beyond any doubt that when one finds their identity in Christ, there is hope and there is ability. "For anyone who belongs to Christ is a new creation. The old life is gone; a new life has begun." 2 Corinthians 5:17. </div>
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If you need help (if you are being bullied, or if you realize you are a bully), talk to me at any time. There will be no judgment, but let's talk about it together</div>
Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-25651578833032669162012-10-05T01:02:00.002-05:002012-10-05T01:02:40.242-05:00I'm Thankful For....After a difficult day in what has actually been a fairly difficult month, it would be easy to use this blog space to rant and complain, even if about my own deficiencies as a leader (of which I've been feeling a lot lately). However, God put something on my heart just in these last few minutes. As we approach Thanksgiving, one thing that I am truly thankful for is "friends."<br />
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Why do I use the quotations? I guess because as a pastor I have many friends, and I really mean it when I say that they are my friends. There are many people who I care deeply about, from my volunteers to the many members of the wonderful church congregation we share, to the many relationships I have built through my ministry at Cedarwood over the years. Make no mistake, I am thankful for them and they enrich my life. However I use the quotations because in this case I'm talking about the friends who intentionally build back into my own life, the kind of building that does not come with an expectation of return. I realize that they have been God's way of carrying me and keeping me going.<br />
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Friends who invite me for dinner with them and their families making it clear that I can just be "me" without expectation. Friends who invite me camping, fishing, etc; because they know it will be restful for me. The friend who calls me up to have coffee just to well... have coffee and force me to take a few minutes rest. The friend who stops by my office, steals a chocolate, and talks about cars. The friend who always makes sure to ask me first how I am doing before I can ask them how they are doing, and who really wants to hear the answer no matter what it is. The friend who will go out of their way to leave me a phone message at a late hour on my office phone just to bless me in my work the next morning. The friend who will put up with and even engage me back with a pun war. Even the young friends who build into my life by invading my office and hiding my stuff, who as a parent of one of them put it "just want to hang out with me."<br />
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I recognize that God has called me specifically to build into the lives of others, and I know that He has given me gifts specifically in that area. I'm thankful for that and for the many rich and I daresay lifelong friendships that have I built out of that. However, I realize that God has used the lives of some specific people to build directly into my life when I've needed it most. I think they generally know who they are, but I sure hope they know how thankful I am for them....Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4044347777729227636.post-33091435989069087732012-07-12T00:27:00.001-05:002012-07-12T00:32:08.046-05:00Judgement.I tend to stand in awe at how God takes the most regular situations and combines them to teach me lessons or remind me of lessons I should have actually learned long ago. Tonight was a bit of a double whammy in that regard. I've definitely been challenged lately by the sin of self-righteous judgement, especially in my own life considering the damage that I have seen others cause through it, including to myself. The question I must constantly challenge myself is whether I am using a difference of opinion as a weapon instead of as a point of prayerful growth. Unfortunately, I too often fail by settling for the former as it requires much less effort to attack, even behind someones back, than it does to pursue truth together. I found it very cool this evening how a large part of our conference's executive director's opening talk focussed on this every thing; the timing was perfect to what God has been challenging me hard on especially in the last few weeks. However, the double whammy was unexpected.<br />
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I was then reminded of a situation a number of years ago where an entire family was greatly hurt by the self-righteous judgemental actions of someone I was associated with, and it only just hit me as I was reflecting on the evening that by my complicity I was just as much to blame. I might not have been able to change the initial situations (although looking back I certainly did see the signs leading in that direction) but I could have had an affect on the aftermath. The problem was that as uncomfortable I felt with the situation as it unfolded, to address it would have opened myself up to the same judgement and some possible serious consequences. Basically, I was scared. </div>
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It's important to emphasize that I'm not playing the guilt game here... If I was to do that I'd be in a whole lot more trouble. One of the greatest joys of forgiveness is simply known that you're forgiven! However, I do believe that it is also important to remember and so this is the challenge I am feeling right now. Not only am I commanded not to live in self-righteous judgement over others, but I am also commanded to do something if I see others doing so, especially in Christ's name. What does it mean to do something? I'm actually not entirely sure, besides the fact that it needs to be done with much prayer, but I do believe it involves being willing to act when God tells me to act. This might be as simple as sharing a verse of scripture He has put on my heart that speaks to the situation, or it may be as dangerous as challenging an authority figure who is abusing their authority. The main thing though is trusting in God instead of fearing man. It's something I'm learning a little more each day.</div>
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I don't know if any of this made sense.... it does to me anyway but that certainly doesn't mean much. However, it was on my heart to write and maybe that was for a reason....</div>Ben Harapiakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16558048509069085692noreply@blogger.com0