As some of you know, I work at a magazine. Here is an excerpt of an article a friend of mine wrote, “reviewing” the Franklin Graham Festival that came through town a few weeks ago for the upcoming issue. I share it with you now.

An obviously horrified Jon Schledewitz arrives to take pictures for Uptown just as Newsboys lead singer John James (real name) begins to lead a cheer usually only heard at international hockey matches: “CAN-A-DA! CAN-A-DA!” thousands of voices cry out. Geoff and I both have the look of fear. Finally after a relentless evangelical seizure song by John James, the Newsboys are finished. The legion of screaming Jesus children fall quiet and walk like zombies to sit in perfectly ordered rows at the back of the floor. After a couple of hymns led by the Tommy Coomes Band with Tommy Walker, it’s time for the main event. Sporting a Harley Davidson motorcycle jacket and a resolute smile, Franklin Graham takes the stage and is immediately attacked by a yellow jacket. (Go wasps!) The preacher quickly kills the insect with a [copy of the Winnipeg] Free Press and then starts preaching some of his classic tunes. “Abortion is Murder” and “Homosexuality is a Sin” garner relatively little applause. Then he starts inviting those who have sinned to come up to and repent so Jesus can give them a sponge bath and wash their souls squeaky clean. Schledewitz follows a few of them only to be stopped by Graham security. We’re not so daring to get more tape. By now, our recorder is out of juice and there would be no point. I’ve had enough from the man who, on previous occasions, wanted to nuke Afghanistan and called Islam an evil and wicked religion. “He’s giving Jesus a bad name,” I tell Geoff as we quietly exit out into the streets. God bless reality.

Sex columnist Dan Savage weighs in on Ted Haggard, and while I generally don’t copy-and-paste wholesale from other pieces of writing, I don’t know how many of my readers are also Savage Love readers so I’ll risk it:

If you believe that Jesus Christ can change the sexual orientation of a believer, why on earth did he refuse to cure Haggard? He founded a church that has 14,000 members! Thousands were brought to Christ by Haggard’s preaching. Mixed in with Ted’s meth-fueled gay sex romps and hypocritical gay bashings were, without a doubt, thousands of good works.

Did Jesus help Haggard out? No. Haggard struggled with temptation all his life. He tried to battle off his “dark” desires, but nothing proved effective. There was no cure for Haggard, no miracle. No matter how long he struggled, no matter how much faith he had, Haggard’s sexual orientation remained unchanged. Nothing helped. Not prayer, not Jesus H. Christ on his cross.

Nothing.

If giving his heart to Jesus couldn’t cure Haggard, what hope is there for the likes of me? If Jesus can’t be bothered to work a miracle for the most powerful evangelical minister in the country, what “hope” is there for the average dyke?

None.

The ex-gay thing is over. It’s dead. It was bullshit from the start, and it’s bullshit now. And I will personally track down and bitch-slap the next fundie douche who sends me an e-mail explaining how Jesus can cure me. And I will personally track down and shit in the mouth of the next cable-news anchor who entertains—even for an instant—the notion of a miracle cure for homosexuality.

I know this is basically the line of thought that I and a few folks who appear on the sidebar links there have had lately — both when it comes to homosexuality and pretty much any other area of life where God supposedly has ultimate power. Of course, here it’s presented with Dan Savage’s usual, shall we say, zest.

Personally, I do feel a little sorry for Haggard. But not too sorry, because in the end he was a victim of his own regime. When you build the weapons you’d better be prepared to die by them.

Harry Lehotsky, pastor of New Life Ministries here in Winnipeg died last night. He was diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer this spring. He was 49.

I just got the news myself so I’m not really ready to eulogize him. Actually, all I’m thinking about is my friend, his son Brandon. Last week we were talking over pizza in a church basement somewhere and it was too much to bear. Too much sadness, too much pain knowing that the end was so near. All I can think about is myself, and how my dad almost died three years ago but medical science had a cure for him. That wasn’t the case for Brandon, though. Maybe in twenty years they’ll have a cure for pancreatic cancer they way they do for cardiomyopathy, but they sure as hell don’t have one now. What makes me so lucky? Because honestly, there’s not much in the way of divine intervention, here. Our fathers live and die by the abilities of modern science, nothing more.

Brandon is one of the best, most easy-going guys I know and I hope this doesn’t change that. Though how could it not? How would it not change you if your dad, an amazing guy who actually made a difference in the world, died so young? When you were so young?

On one level, when we eulogize Harry Lehotsky, it will be easy because he accomplished so much and made this city better and affected so many people. He built affordable housing, he built a restaurant that serves good, inexpensive food, he fought for a neighbourhood that was ignored and forgotten by the rest of the city. His funeral will be massive, and we’ll all grieve together. But in the end, he wasn’t even 50 years old yet. He could have done way more. He had a family that needed him. His sons are all out of high school, but they still need him. Can all of his accomplishments really balance out the inherent tragedy of this?