Musings on Hebrews 8 - New Covenant

Hebrews 8:

Main point: We have such a high priest who has taken His seat at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty of the heavens. (v.1)

The right hand of the throne of the Majesty of the heavens is a LOT more intimate than even the holy of holies in the Temple! (v.2)

Vv 4 & 6 indicate that the New Covenant is different from the Old; it is better, with better promises.

The promises of the New Covenant:

àGod will put His laws into our minds, and write them on our hearts. 

àHe will be our God and we will be His people. 

àWe shall not need to teach people saying, “know the LORD” for all will know Him: from the least to the greatest. 

àHe will be merciful to our iniquities and He will remember our sins no more.

The New Covenant is not simply an improved Old Covenant:

It is new.  What does Hebrews 8 say about this?

Quotation of Jeremiah 31:31-34

There is talk in Jeremiah of returning the House of Israel from captivity to their land and rebuilding their nation. 

- Rebuilding does not mean improving.  What is the difference between NEW and IMPROVE?

- There is an emphasis that within the House of Israel, all will know God, from the least to the Greatest.  The emphasis is on the internalizing of relationship with God, rather than external Law – mind and heart Law – relational conscience.

- There is also a move towards individual capacity, rather than herding anonymity.  I.e. everyone shall be guilty of their own sin (Deut. 24:16; Jer. 31:30).

There is a "New" Covenant in the Old Testament; but apart from Jesus and the Holy Spirit, it didn’t work:

àOriginal Covenant (promised in OT, pre-salvific work of Christ & and pre-indwelling Holy Spirit)

à Old Covenant (rules, Levitical Law, sacrificial system: shadow and copy (typology-based)

à New Covenant (with salvific work of Christ & indwelling Holy Spirit):

The declaration to Moses is the Original Covenant (Exodus 19,20).  “Now then, if you will indeed obey My voice and keep My covenant, then you shall be My own possession among all the people, for all the earth is Mind; and you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Ex. 19:5,6).

Deuteronomy 5-6:9 also seems to be another crack at the Original Covenant.

The disobedience of Israel causes “plan B”, which we call the Old Covenant (could Exodus 20:19 be the first indication of the rejection of God’s offer in Exodus 19:6?)

The fact that Israel never truly engaged the internal relationship with God in a heart and mind obedience; the fact that Israel never truly engaged even the commands of Deut. 6:6-9, except in a superficial manner; the fact of the social injustice and ignoring of the Law, indicates that regardless of “chances” that Israel may have had, they failed at the Old Covenant as well as spurned the Original.

The New Covenant in Christ and sealed by the Holy Spirit is the deepest element of God’s participation with us and is different from the New Covenant as presented to Moses (et al) because it is God who leads us; the Holy Spirit who dwell within us; Jesus who intercedes for us.  The New Covenant of the New Age of the Holy Spirit is God carrying us along.  Even when we are faithless, He remains faithful... 

The New Covenant of the New Age of the Holy Spirit, with Jesus as High Priest and Intercessor is according to the Heavenly concept.  Hebrews 8:4 says that if Jesus were on earth, He wouldn't be a High Priest - He is not an earthly priest - He is a heavenly Priest - He is not offering the Original Covenant to Moses; He is not offering the Old Covenant of Levitical Law - He is offering the New Covenant of Himself, as our heavenly High Priest and Intercessor; He is offering His Holy Spirit as our helper and guide; He is offering the full intention and plan of the Father in way that cannot get any more intimate as God with us: Immanuel!

One last thought: Jeremiah 31:31-34 takes Deuteronomy 6:6-9 and inverts it.  Internalises it.  Takes it deeper, from the physical to the internal.  From the temporal to the eternal.  With God in our hearts and minds, with Jesus as our Intercessor and heavenly High Priest, with the Holy Spirit as our helper and guide to God, we have a dynamic and intentional move with God.

Do we pursue this?  Do we draw near?  Do we seek a move with God that is deeper than requests and success?  Now.  Forever.  Here.  Eternity.  Life with Jesus, participation with God via the Holy Spirit is alive, real, palpable.  I want this.  I want to seek this first, above all things.

Matthew 6:33 says to seek first the Kingdom of God and its righteousness and all these things shall be added.  Jesus is a heavenly High Priest.  He is a Kingdom High Priest.  It is His righteousness that becomes our righteousness.  The Kingdom is active and more than a shadow.  Jesus, as High Priest of the Kingdom, sitting at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens, invites us to let God in.  Invites us to be God's people.  Not in political agenda or conservative ideology; but in Kingdom dwelling and deep, spiritual, internal, eternal life with God in His Kingdom.

Dogpression

My dog, Havana, was spaid this week.  Tuesday.  She's a real jumping bean and doesn't appreciate wearing a cone and not being able to lick her stitches.  Yesterday (Thursday), my wife, Bee, and I went out looking for an alternative to the cone. 

We heard about a product (not sold in Canada of course!!!) called Bite Not. We called them in San Francisco and the lady was very rude to Bee.  I said to Bee, you think she was rude; she thinks it was just a normal business transaction. 

So we went to Shopper's Drug Mart and I purchased a neck brace - medium sized (shoulda got a small; but they didn't have any) and Havana now can look like a car-accident puppy instead of a lampshade.

On Tuesday, while she was at the Vet, getting all drugged up and cut up and stitched up, her brother Douglas (who was neutered back in January and didn't like it none too much) missed her.  His mother and I told him repeatedly that Havana was at the Vet and would be back later, he was SO sad.  He laid at the top of the stairs and stared down into the carpet.  He moaned and slouched and made it very clear to us that life sucks and is full of nothing but dispair.  He'd take some treats; but make it seem like they were the worst thing in the world.

As soon as Bee left with Havana in the morning, Doug started to sulk.  I could only imagine the questions he was asking in his little doggy-mind:  Where is Havana?  Why can't I be with her?  When will she be home?

If only he knew where she was, he wouldn't be so eager to be with her.  But he didn't know.  He had no idea; all he knew was that he was stuck at home and he was "missing out."

I understand that.  I get that exact same feeling: "missing out."  Bee gets it too.  It is only a superficial feeling since God has given us freedom in Christ and marital union.  But before we were married; before we were living in a way that experienced the freedom of Jesus, we both were overwhelmed and overcome by the feeling of "missing out."  It's a terrible feeling.  Akin to panic.

Psalm 37 gives us encouragement to not panic, nor to envy people.  You know how most parents will talk about the lessons they learn from their kids?  And Christian parents say they learn a lot about how God views us by how they view their kids?  Well, my wife and I can't have kids and our puppies are our kids (we'll foster in a few years, probably) and I sure seem to learn a lot about God from watching my puppies.

I've been learning to be patient with life, especially the unknowns.  I've been learning to wait for God (psalm 37:7).  I've also got this notion that waiting for God ISN'T waiting for God to give me what I want.  That's where the trust comes in.  That's the space where stuff comes up in me: worry, fear, what-ifs.  It is these things I submit to God, turn over to Him.  It is this struggle and difficulty that is the very essence of trusting God.

Trusting God is a lot like Douglas desperately hoping to be with Havana, desperately hoping that she'll come home.  Raising his head at every sound of a car.  Raising his voice at any noise outside.  Making deep eye contact with me when I'm saying her name and telling him where she is.  He wants to understand.

Douglas is not a dumb dog.  He's not emotionless.  He's sensitive.  He wants to please.  He wants to feel secure.  Trust isn't the lack of tension; it is the place to abide in the very thick of the tension.

Psalm 63:7 talks about singing for joy in the shadow of His wings.  It is this perspective I am thinking about singing for joy.  Not that every little thing works out; but that God is good and to be in His shadow is the place to be.

Job Hunting, Puppies and Jesus

Have you ever heard the expression "pound the pavement" when referring to looking for a job? I disliked that statement from the first time I heard it; but that was before the dawn of the Internet.

Now, I can job hunt all day long from the comfort of my own home office. I got tunes on (I'm such a sucker for 106.5 fm - my shame is now revealed...); I write a new cover letter to each job I find; I can tweak my resume for each job.

But after two days of applying to dozens of prospective places, I haven't heard back. So what do I do? Take the dogs for a walk. Douglas and Havana get enough attention from everyone on the street that I can momentarily forget my woes of being neglected by the vast amounts of employers who are supposed to be knocking on my e-mail account's door and buzzing my cell phone.

Yesterday morning I had enough potential to shoot for the stars; today I am walking the dogs, reviewing again the repeated prayer I've been dwelling on lately: "Lord, I trust You, help me trust You."

By Calling and vocation I am a co-pastor, for the past year I've been making tables and benches; now I've lost my co-pastor and table making partner to a telephone company (well, not lost; he's still with me on weekends) and I've got to find a job. Apparently I'm not making money making tables.

Douglas and Havana don't care. They're just happy to be outside, sniffing at poles, grass, dried up poops. Playing with each other in the park. Havanese crosses, they are beautiful dogs, full of life. They trust me. They know that I will lead them to fun; protect them from harm, keep them safe.

So, if I am loved even more by my Father in heaven, what should I care too? I don't have the
"prosperity" line that says everything is gonna be great; but I do have a High Priest in Jesus who wants nothing more than to mould me into something beautiful that will bring God glory. And part of the moulding process involves the unknown of job hunting.

Am I gonna be a janitor during the week or an office administrator? I don't know. Both would be fun. But I do love to write....

Bearer of Radical Change

Greetings,

begin transmission. The Darren is leaving the Israel and will be returning to the Canada within the week. end transmission

Yeah, this needs an explanation. The following is an adaptation to the letter I sent to colleagues here in Israel and Palestine, both MCC and Zochrot:

Some of you know the gist of what I'm about to say, to some of you this will be new. The very short version is, I have realised that I belong in Canada, working with my own country and my own people. I have realised that I left Canada for escapist reasons and that no matter how much I hate the cops or socialised insurance or the affluence and materialism of people, those are not good reasons to ditch out on my country and the people in my life.

I have a family that I want to participate in. I don't want my new nephew to be three years old before I meet him; I don't want to go that long without seeing my other nephews and neices.
I have the best friends a dude could ever ask for and I realise that I want to be investing in their lives; not absent from them. Most of my friends weren't Christians before I met them and they are now; I have realised that I should continue to be investing in them. (This has nothing to do with proselytisation - it speaks to the closeness and intimacy of our friendships and an alignment in our lives and values.

Canada has many hurting and needy people; the disenfranchised. I know that most "successful" people ususally deal with the rich, our society caters to it; but that has always made me feel uncomfortable because of the disparagement I have seen in the world. I have always been drawn to work with the poor, the needy and the down-and-out. That is what took me to Africa three different times, to Germany, and finally to Israel. Those who knew me in BC knew that for the past few years I was just hiding out in the film industry, passing time and refusing to engage my society.

Something changed with this trip, however. I noticed it only a few weeks into my term. I saw the commitment that the people from Zochrot had to their country, their people. Now, I think that Israel is way more screwed up than Canada is, just my own opinion, and when I saw my new co-workers' commitment to their people, it made me feel sheepish. I felt like I was doing the exact opposite of what they were doing. They saw a screwed up situation and dug in their heels and stayed to work against the tide. I saw a screwed up situation in Canada and just left, hoping to find greener pastures. What I found was a dawning realisation that I actually do belong in Canada, working with my people; working with Canada's disenfranchised.

It took me a long time to arrive at this decision. I thought about it since that first dawning in early August, I actively considered it for over a month and laboured over it for the past several weeks. I consulted friends, both in Israel and in Canada, including members of my family. I read some wisdom literature, hoping to glean some information that could give me direction; I poured over the stories of Jesus, looking for hints in his parables and interactions with people. I wrote out pros and cons lists on both staying and going. I prayed through it thoroughly.

It would be much easier, in a sense, to just stay here. I have some really great friends, whom I love. I have a terrific apartment and enough food and really cheap beer to keep me chubby. There is a beautiful city at my doorstep and the Mediterranian Sea to swim in. Zochrot is an honourable organisation that has inspired and moved me. MCC has been paying my student loans and basically, I have been riding on a free ticket. I have been learning heaps, from the history of this land, a new language and culture, and the humanity of people; all people.

But, in my own sense of integrity, I needed to be honest with myself and with those around me. I could no longer deny the feelings of conviction within me that for the first time in my adult life I actually feel like I belong in Canada - that I have a responsibility to take ownership of my Canadian identity, instead of scorning it, and seek to help the disenfranchised in my community. To stand in support and love of my family and my friends - not to just run away to a different country taking for granted all that is really most important to me.

So, I needed to set a date for leaving, one that I was comfortable with and one that I thought showed respect for Zochrot, MCC and my friends here in Tel Aviv. The last thing I wanted to do was to disappear or run out in the night. In most jobs you give two weeks notice. I really value my experiences here and wanted to give six weeks notice. I planned on stopping my studies at the language school and going back to the Zochrot office and spending time again with the staff from Zochrot whom I have hardly seen since starting Hebrew Language study. And I also wanted to be above-board with MCC, so they could know of how I feel and support me.

I telelphoned the country representative and told him all that I have written above. He called me back two hours later informing me that I must leave immediately. That MCC doesn't want me around their partners if I will not be with MCC. I tried to explain about giving notice and being incarnational in the time I felt I wanted to give but to no avail. He said that the Jerusalem Rep would take care of things with Zochrot and with all the details of me leaving Tel Aviv. It turns out that I am leaving in the middle of the night, literally, in two days, on Monday.

The Jerusalem Rep would take care of it? We are two very different people and I don't ever speak with him about my life, my dreams, my goals, my concerns. In short, he is not a source of support in my life and doesn't actually even know me. So how is he supposed to take care of it?
He never knew my reasons for wanting to leave. So how is it that he can say anything to Zochrot or to my fellow colleagues within MCC? These things gravely concerned me because I fear he might just make something up about how I was homesick or something like that. Homesickness has nothing to do with me returning to Canada.

So, I wanted to explain these things myself. I sent an e-mail similar to this one to my colleagues at MCC and Zochrot and have actually arranged to have lunch with the Zochrot staff tomorrow to say goodbye. Eitan, the director told me that I can't leave Israel without trying Abu-Hasan's in Jaffa; that it is better than Abu-Adham's, where I eat several times a week and one day when I ate three bowls (free refills) they gave me a free shirt. Most Israelis barely get through one. So, I'll see if this Abu-Hasan's is better; but it will be really good to spend one last time together with the staff.

I do not think I am leaving here a failure. I believe that life has many twists and turns on this journey and that epiphanies and realisations that change us are good things, rather than bad. My parent generation values things like "commitment" and "obedience to a call" and I value those things, too. But what I value more is the dynamic that evolution happens, change occurs; change that we don't always see coming and can't always plan. At least that's the way it works for me.

I feel I am responsible to properly explain myself and let you all know how I feel and why I am making the decisions I am making. I am not responsible for your reaction. If you feel like I'm lacking in character, or that I've run-out on my responsibilities and commitments, then I agree; that is why I am returning to Canada, to take ownership of those responsibilities and commitments. It was not my intention to sweep through the Middle East, wasting money on some soul-searching mission. A cynic could easily see it as that; I don't see it that way.

My regret about leaving so soon is that it feels like a definite severing - like a definite statement MCC is making to me. I have been in language school since the beginning of September and have rarely even seen the Zochrot staff; now I am being whisked off so that I barely see them. That saddens me.

It will be hard leaving this place that I have lived for three months. Like I said earlier I have some really valuable relationships, both inside MCC and Zochrot, and outside, with my "regular" Israeli friends. Not being the bravest person I know, I wouldn't have laboured through this decision if I didn't believe in it and I wouldn't decide to go home if I didn't believe that it was for the sake of personal integrity and responsibility and ownership.

These are my reasons and this is how I feel. Sorry for misunderstandings or hurt feelings.

Darren
(Burro-D-Block OUT)

a Tour of the WestBank

Thursday, October 20, 2005

My time up in Zababdeh was really cool. Fine, I was sick for a couple of days but by Tuesday was feeling like myself, again. I really enjoyed going for walks in an olive grove with Mark and Andrea and seeing old trees leading my eyes towards beautiful views of the mountains surrounding Zababdeh. Tuesday night brought a full-moon and it looked so beautiful hovering over those mountains. Wednesday it rained. It poured, in fact, over the entire country. I was so glad to see great globs of water fall. I loved hearing the constant drumming of pitter-patter on the ground. It rained in Israel, too, even in Tel Aviv. People are talking about winter and there are less people in the streets at night. Not that it's actually cold. Last night, after my return to Tel Aviv, Matan and I went for a walk to the grocery store and I was in shorts and a t-shirt and enjoying the coolness. He was in long-pants and was complaining that it was too cold; he had forgotten to put on a sweater so we didn't go for much of a walk: only to the store and back.

To leave Zababdeh, I was going to catch a bus at 5:15 am to take me to Ramallah, then it wouldn't be much trouble to get to Tel Aviv via Jerusalem from that point. Mark walked with me to the bus. There were no people, so we waited, hoping the driver would come soon. After five, or so, minutes he did show up. He took one look at me and said to us some sentences. He said something about my foreign passport and he either said the roads were closed and he's doing a new route or he said that he didn't want a foreign passport on his bus because it would cause problems. I only heard the word "passport" but Mark understood a little of what he said. I don't know any Arabic because I'm surrounded by Hebrew. I didn't get on the bus; it was clear that he didn't want me to.

There was some tension in the Westbank this week because the IDF were stepping up their road closures and their supposed security checks. It's a tough situation on both sides, I think; Israel is paranoid that Palestine is going to stick it to them every opportunity they get and Palestine gets so tired of being squashed by the Israelis. Why Israel doesn't just pull out of the WestBank and stick to the 1948 borders is beyond me. I think it is rooted in imagery, symbolism and desires for hegemony and held firm by propaganda and fear. Anyway, times get tough and tension spills over. Three settlers were killed and several others wounded at a hitchhiking stand near Bethlehem on Sunday when a Palestinian man shot them. The next move is that Israel flexes its muscles and tightens its chokehold on Palestine. Airforce jets circled Jenin for several hours on Wednesday, their constant circling and roaring engines was pretty annoying to me but they weren't letting off sonic booms or dropping any bombs. Intimidation is the name of the game for the IDF. Bethlehem and Jenin are not even near each other; but Israel impedes life all over the West Bank, just the same. They protect their illegal settlements by shutting down the highways that run near them, which means Palestinians have to either drive huge distances to circumvent the closures or they have to go off-road and drive through fields to link back up with the road on the other side of the closure. There are many unknowns because the IDF is unpredictable and moody. There is tension and fear, on both sides. Palestine is poor, very poor.
Israel blocks any economic growth and blocks any outside trading with other countries. Israel gets stronger and Palestine continues to hold on to their hard way of life, still living with grace and dignity in a way that amazes me.

Andrea was surprised to hear both our voices as we came back to their place. They contacted their landlord a couple of hours later - at a respectable hour! - and asked if he could try to arrange a seat in a taxi for me run by one of his relatives who lives in Ramallah who takes people up to Jenin every morning then does a run back to Ramallah at the end of the day. But with the road closures and the stepped up harrassment at checkpoints, not many people were wanting to travel. The driver sat around in Jenin for several hours with no travelers until the Stoner-Leaman's landlord called him up to tell him that I'd pay just over double fare to get a ride. Finally, by 4:30 I climbed into a taxi, paid the driver 100 shekels ($30 CDN), and got a ride to Ramallah. We had to take a very round-about way to avoid some checkpoints and road closures. I got my own private tour of the WestBank and it is beautiful. Its also very poor and underdeveloped, which is really sad because it is only that way because Israel chokes the Palestinian economy.

At one point my driver Saliba (means "the cross" - he's part of the 2% Christian population of Palestine) took us around a sharp corner on a mountain road and a huge expanse opened up before us. The mountains gradually fell away into lower ground and the sun was just setting giving off a soft light that made the view breathtaking. From left to right I could see until the horizon swallowed up everything. As we descended down the mountain we were stopped by a taxi driver coming towards us who told us that up ahead there was a tank blocking the road so we needed to go another way. Saliba manouvered our big old six-door mercedes down a steep and incredibly bumpy dirt path and we set out across fields on a worn track that is often used by Palestinians to avoid checkpoints or closed roads. We had been near a Jewish settlement, which is why the tank was closing the road (to "protect" it). Saliba told me that by going through these fields, which was like a maze of different tracks and more stones on the ground than soil, it seemed, we were saving driving 150 extra kilometers on roads to get back to the highway.

We spotted the tank and the tank spotted us. For about two or three minutes ours was the only car in the field and the tank's upper body rotated, following us with its eyes. I could sense the discomfort and tension of Saliba and see the sweat on his forehead and wondered if we might be in real trouble. We just kept on driving. Other cars and minvans and trucks started to appear on various tracks after some minutes of our solo off-roading. Most of the drivers tried to wave Saliba down, presumably to ask about open roads ahead, but he wasn't stopping. He wanted out of the fields as fast as possible. He just waved people on instead of stopping to talk and muttered to me about how dangerous it would be to stop and confer with other drivers with a tank watching us. We eventually got back to a paved road and continued on. We went through two checkpoints where the soldiers treated us cooly but let us pass before coming into Ramallah.

My driver, Saliba, talked with me the entire way. He had a very interesting perspective on all things political and had some good knowledge, too, having been a schoolteacher in Jerusalem for 25 years before the school closed. The only two parts where I asserted counterpoints to what he was saying were when he denied the Jewish Holocaust and sang the praises of Saddam Hussein. That last one led to a very interesting conversation where he told me that Arab people cannot live with democracy; they need to have a dictator-type ruler, he said. I reminded him that he was of the Christian religion and asked if he wanted to live under an Islamic legal system. He replied that there was nothing he could do about it and that it was in Palestinian law that the leader must be Muslim. He said he didn't mind. That he didn't want democracy; he said that when Palestine becomes a nation, Abbas will have to go because he is too weak and too democratic. He explained his point of view to me about Hussein by listing a dozen other examples of Arab countries whose leaders are autocratic and dictatorial. He told me that Jordanians only settled down when their King built a military that kept them in line. I don't think he speaks for all Arabs or all Palestinians. He is just one man with his own opinions, just as I am, but it sure was interesting to hear him rail on against democracy. Saliba also named villages we past and told me a thing or two about a thing or two. He explained to me how certain villages got their names. He told me stories about the British occupation. I was thoroughly exhausted by the time we arrived in Ramallah but also very grateful for my own private tour of the West Bank.

From Ramallah, I took a servees (shared taxi mini-van deal) to Kalundia then walked across the "border" and through another checkpoint before getting into another taxi to get me to the central bus station in Jerusalem. When we passed through yet another checkpoint the soldiers wanted me to open my backpack for them. It was dark and he didn't have a flashlight so as soon as I opened it and said "rack begadeem" (only clothes) he just waved me away from him moved on to the next car.

After getting to Central Bus Station, going through yet more security checks from visual profiling to metal detectors to x-ray machines, I finally boarded my bus to take me to Tel Aviv. Just over four hours after leaving Zababdeh I was back in my apartment in Tel Aviv, exhausted but happy. I find it amazing that if there wasn't so much conflict and tension and if buses and vehicles could move freely between Israel and the Westbank, I could have made the journey in just over an hour. Maybe someday.

Not sure if I've met dogs this sick

Family, Friends, and folks who for whatever reason read these e-mails.
As you know, I came up to Zababdeh to hang out with Mark and Andrea Stoner-Lehman, fellow MCCers. Our first night was a really good time of visiting, a walk in an olive grove, some felafel and chess.
Cabbage. Cabbage did it to me. It tried to kill me.
I woke up on Sunday morning and it took me about twenty minutes to realise that I couldn't eat anything and that I felt bloated and in pain. Turns out the cabbage in the felafel (for it came to me in my dreams and mocked me) had poisoned me.
It is now Monday night and I am still fighting a sore stomach and the nastiest runs that ever ran through my body!
I am much better than yesterday, when I was a walking zombie and in addition to the runs was vomiting throughout the day. I slept for nearly 20 hours of the 24 on Sunday.
I woke up this afternoon at 1pm and have eaten a little bit and haven't barfed yet. I am really glad that I am not alone in my apartment in Tel Aviv while being so sick - psychologically, it would be very difficult. Because of Jewish holidays (Sucot) there are no Israeli busses running until Wednesday, so I am here, at Mark and Andreas, recuperating until then. They have been very good to me.
I just wanted to give a brief update, so that those of you who keep up on it all can know where I'm at.
I got to see some russian league hockey on the television tonight. It sure doesn't compare with the Nucks, but it was nice to see some hockey, at least.
Okay, this hurts my brain - Darren OUT.

Pesto La Mubanga

Pesto La Mubanga:

Take two cups of fresh basil leaves. If you have a food processor, that would probably work best to shred them; I use a cheese grater, which turns my fingers green.

Pour in a half-cup of olive oil into your bowl with your shredded basil leaves.

Salt, Pepper, papryka (I use sweet papryka), a little bit of cayenne (as much as you desire).

Then put in several cloves of crushed / pressed garlic, I use about six or seven, but that's because I like excessiveness.

Several pinches of parmesan cheese and several tablespoons of cream cheese....stir in all in good.

some diced pine-nuts or several splashes of beer go nicely, too.

Mix it all up, take time to smell your mix and breathe deeply.

Serve it over spaghetti noodles.

ROCK AND / OR ROLL!
Burro.