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Marti, “among those big-foot-print congregations that become an exemplar and influencer . . . defining a way of doing ‘church’ many believe is necessary for the world today.”

Significantly for some people, pop star Justin Bieber himself was baptized at the New York Hillsong. Is it a church fit for celebrity?

THE VISION OF HILLSONGMusical discernment involves as-sessing bands in part by what they say they intend to do. Hillsong Worship, which creates music,

HILLSONG UNITED WON A GRAMMY award at the end of January 2018 for “best contemporary Christian music song.” Then a sociologist col-league, Gerardo Marti, published an article on the “Hillsongization of Christianity,” which inspired me to look at the phenomenally pop-ular band from Hillsong Church. Why examine Hillsong? There are other popular worship bands: Bethel, Elevation, Jesus Culture, Rend Collective. But Hillsong is one of the most popular and well estab-lished. They are said to have about 100,000 adherents in 15 countries on five continents. Their music is sung by an estimated 50 million people in 60 languages (with campuses in places like Amsterdam, Barcelona, Berlin, Cape Town, Tokyo, Moscow, Copenhagen, Kiev, London, NY, Paris and Stockholm). “Oceans,” one of their most well-known songs, has over 90 million views on YouTube.

With a global network of congregations, they are their own indus-try of worship, blurring secular and sacred, marketing and mission, performance and praise. Hillsong is a music industry, a publishing house, a leadership network, a big screen movie and a TV station. “An impressive ecclesial force, a global phenomenon,” says Dr.

THREE MILLION HECTARES of land within cities in North Amer-ica sit abandoned, vacant. To call a place vacant implies a sense of hollowness, a negative emptying that resigns it to the indifferent deterioration of time. Such lim-inal spaces often do not – as we would like to believe – form a bland buffer zone between the rough seams of urban blight and the triumphal glass of downtown hotspots. Rather, the malforma-tions of human character often rise up in sharpest relief when pushed out to these zones of ap-parent nothingness. The physi-cal abandonment correlates to a much more devastating sociolog-ical one – the erosion of hope.

Vacant lots remind us, bluntly, of what happens when humans transform landscapes and then neglect them. In ecological terms, these environments have under-gone significant long-term dis-turbance: forests razed, prairies plowed up, wetlands drained to make smooth canvases for indus-

trial and urban activity. Once in-dustry leaves, cities depopulate or factories close, the buildings that replaced the trees face their own moments of destruction, but the ground remains. The soil might contain remnants of toxic chemi-cals and heavy metals, suffer com-paction from machinery, and lack organic matter. These contribute to water runoff in severe storms and potential flooding.

This deadened crust of ground also serves as the perfect sub-strate for invasive species like crabgrass to colonize, choking out any hope of return by native plants. As a final aesthetic af-front, vacant lots seem to serve as magnets for the detritus we all too easily disassociate from in our everyday trash disposal: snagged shopping bags flapping in plastic ghost hands, crumpled cigarette boxes, marooned birth-day balloons and discarded take-out boxes.

News. Clues. Kingdom Views.

THE HILLSONG WORSHIP INDUSTRYIs Hillsong’s worship music about performance or praise? | Peter Schuurman

A Reformed Biweekly $2.5073rd Year of Publication | April 23, 2018 | No. 3073

SOW THE EARTH

Crime decreases when ecologists plant wildflowers in vacant lots. | Jennie Stephenson

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Simply replanting grass and wildflowers in vacant lots decreased gun violence in surrounding areas by 30 percent. Also, butterflies came back.

2 APRIL 23, 2018 | CHRISTIAN COURIER

encouragement in Hillsong’s music. “At the time that I heard the song ‘Seasons,’ I was wres-tling with a lot of anxiety and discouragement about my aca-demic journey. The song’s lyrics seemed quite timely regarding God’s larger plan . . . and the song itself becomes part of an ongoing conversation with God about my life.”

Hillsong nurtures awe: “I want to be part of something bigger than myself,” said a 29-year-old female in a NY Times article on the church. “We’re going to love the city, love the people, and, to me, I feel like love can break any walls.”

None of these testimonies re-ferred to the local church, howev-er. Only Hillsong – live or online.

WRITERS DESCRIBE THE MOVEMENTNY Times Michael Paulson sum-marizes the Hillsong experience: “For young Christians in cities, it has become a magnet, combining the production values of a rock concert, the energy of a nightclub and the community of a mega-church.”

Dr. Marti adds: “Hillsong rep-resents a compelling musical pathway to an emotional one-on-one connection to God . . . em-bracing a more therapeutic em-phasis on emotional well-being. Worship is a guided, event-fo-cused, corporate effort attached to a promise of immediacy to an intimate God, a God whose Spirit-filling empowerment ener-gizes even the most mundane ac-tivities of work and family in ev-eryday life.” Marti characterizes Hillsong’s message as positive, emphasizing victory, like a power ballad, a war cry. “This is a faith that does not bring you down; it lifts you up. And it is always there for you. “Hillsongization” is the replication of this feeling, combined with the cosmopolitan flair and the minimalist musical and architectural approach.

WHAT CRITICS SAY Hillsong, especially on its home territory in Australia, has no shortage of critics. Some insist the church is more a corporation bent on marketing, management and money. Its history with the prosperity gospel worries some people, although their music has

shifted to become more main-stream evangelical over the de-cades. Charismatic emphases on the Spirit have become broad-ened to more Trinitarian themes.

Victor McQuade has been a keyboardist in worship for 52 years, and was head of a music department in a Bible College and edited a hymnal for the French Canadian church. His vision has been to teach worship leaders how to choose songs that were “singable” for the congregation, regardless of style. His critique of Hillsong music is that it is best for the concert venue. “If you do not have the lights, fog machines and pretty girls for your front singers, then it is hard to dupli-cate in a church setting.” In other words, Hillsongization is a mis-match for most congregations.

“The reality is that many are ignoring the reality by not pay-ing attention to the congregation while they are singing,” says McQuade. “If you are on stage with your eyes closed and your ears plugged into in-ear moni-tors, you cannot connect with the very people you are supposed to be ministering to.”

Yet no worship service is all Hillsong, except at Hillsong. Adam Perez studied Hillsong music for his graduate degree and he’s now studying worship music at Duke University. He

emphasized that most churches have one Hillsong piece, may-be two in a service, and there is always other music to diversify the experience and contextualize the Hillsong message. Scripture, prayers and sermons all shape how Hillsong is experienced.

A number of people have men-tioned to me their concern that the music is emotionally manipu-lative. Said one older gentleman: “I am personally always nervous to be involved in a church ser-vice where emotion runs high and I feel that some people are out of control. I can’t escape the thought that I am being manipu-lated somehow.”

Yet Christian music schol-ar Jeremy Begbie has written, in a chapter entitled “Faithful Feelings,” that “Many are in-stinctively cautious about songs that span emotional extremes, exuberant bodily expression. The fear is that we will lose touch with reality, become too preoccupied with the body, open ourselves to unscrupulous ma-nipulation by church leaders . . . songs should be concerned with intellectually graspable truth, only secondarily (if at all) with moving us.”

His larger point is has to do with the kind of emotions the music nurtures in us. “Perhaps

News

HILLSONG CONTINUED

explicitly states that their “purpose is to champion passionate and gen-uine worship of our Lord Jesus Christ in local churches right across the globe.” Hillsong United, a division of the organization focused on youth and outreach, intends to “awaken churches and individuals to the fact that we are redeemed and called into the story of God.”

One Hillsong band member I was referred to through a friend fur-ther explains: “As a musician we worked as a team to write parts that could be played on as minimalistic musical setup [gear] as possible, with the least amount of skill. We aim to make these more accessible to churches so that even worship teams with a Tuba player, an accor-dion and a keyboard player can still generate a similar sonic atmo-sphere in their congregation . . . . We care little about what is trendy. . . We are just trying to capture the sound of heaven – whatever that may be.”

He was insistent that celebrity played no part in the music and that the single concern was this: Does it work for the local church? But can a local church reproduce the scale and atmosphere generated by Hillsong? Is a multi-generational church put under pressure to sound or feel like Hillsong?

WHAT DRAWS PEOPLE TO HILLSONG?One female college instructor uses Hillsong for personal worship: “I love how their songs bring me to my knees before God.” She listens on YouTube and has Hillsong playing while she prepares for classes or cleans. “I love watching my kids stop what they are doing and dance around the living room and belt out the words to the songs.”

An older engineer goes to Hillsong for relief from his work. “It draws me in and takes me away from and out of my pressure cooker mind full of work-related thoughts and pressures, and via the relative-ly complicated music, takes me into simple but profound words that help me focus on what I should be focusing on all the time – namely something to do with God’s goodness and kindness.”

A middle-aged Oxford PhD student finds personal meaning and

Of their new album, released this month, Hillsong says “We have a deep conviction that THERE IS MORE for the church, every believer, of God, his heart & his promises for us.”

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@ChrCourier ChrCourier CHRISTIANCOURIER.CA | APRIL 23, 2018 3

of a general sense that Hillsong music is positive and not sexy. Go figure.”

I began this investigation hesi-tant about Hillsong, and I still prefer other music for many of the reasons given here. But discern-ing use of Hillsong may indeed capture a heavenly chord.

grass, we devoid ecosystems of their essential complexity. Once liberated from stifling micro-management – and aided by bi-ologically informed reseeding protocols – previously “dead” land can, once again, be a foun-dation for life. One supporter of Swan’s project, Joy Ross, noted,

“I’m a country girl, so it’s cool to see Echinacea [coneflowers]. There’s a swallowtail! There’s lightning bugs! You didn’t see that before.”

Vacancy is not a neutral state of existence. A vacant lot can be a neglected eyesore, a crew-cut concrete-smooth slab of mo-no-cultured grass, or a writhing, flowered slice of experimen-tal “urban renewal.” This very same dead ground is the stuff from which we are formed, into which God breathes, which he calls us to restore. Rather than violent shadows and shame, this work would bear the fruit of practiced resurrection: the ethereal unfurling of petals, the phosphorescent winks of fire-flies, and the gossamer wind of butterfly wings.

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SOW THE EARTH CONTINUED

Micah Van Dijk, shown here at New Life CRC in Guelph, Ont. on Feb. 24, leads

workshops on discerning contemporary music, from Drake to Hillsong.

GRASS, TREES AND LOW FENCESThe most immediate reaction to such “eyesores” – when those who do not have to face such sores on a daily basis finally notice the itch – is to reclaim these fragments in the name of “revitalization.” This usu-ally translates, in practice, to expensive showcase projects that satisfy our cravings for fairy tale transformation. However, as reported in Science magazine by Roni Dengler, a recent study headed by Charles Branas, an epidemiologist at Columbia University, suggests a stun-ningly simple alternative to this stale and sorry gentrification saga.

Branas and co-researchers assigned a random sample of more than 500 vacant lots in Philadelphia to two treatments: some were unchanged, but at some lots, local landscape contractors spent two months removing trash, replanting grass and trees, and constructing low fences around the areas. According to police records collected over the next three years, the lowest income neighborhoods that cre-ated such miniature parks experienced a nearly 30 percent drop in gun violence. Residents also reported a greater sense of safety (an increase of 58 percent) and leisure use of the lot space (up by 76 percent).

While contractors in Philadelphia used generalized grass mix to re-seed, Chris Swan, an ecologist at the University of Maryland, takes a different approach. His multi-year project utilizes combinations of native seed plants (selected for their poor-soil tolerance) to restore some biodiversity to Baltimore’s 14,000 vacant lots. When neigh-bours complained about the “weeds,” Swan decided to use only short-er plants to avoid an “unkempt” look.

PRACTICED RESURRECTIONRegardless of which neighborhood one lives in, a crucial aspect of ecological restoration is letting go. When we categorize native flowers as “weeds” and uproot them with the same ferocity as crab-

the most worrying tendency today is to use music with a very limited range of emotionally significant qualities, or music that cannot speci-fy anything but the most broad and basic emotions – in short, music that can never help to educate congregations as to the enormous range of emotion possible in worship (a range reflecting the width found, for instance, in Scripture).”

IS BIGGER ALWAYS BETTER?Hillsong is a megachurch with branch plants around the world. Sin-gapore professor Robbie Goh says Hillsong offers a “semiotics of largeness” and “greatness” that stands above others. Their marketing foregrounds size, the massive body of the church, their large-scale op-erations, rapid growth, vast outreach, global sales and influence that is reaching millions worldwide. Preachers on a sprawling stage are magnified on jumbo screens with jumbo amplification: a largeness of personality, creating big expectations, supernatural promises. “God says you can do so much more,” is the refrain, “breaking out on the left and right.”

Big isn’t always better, but big is not always worse, either. Theologians Kenda Creasy Dean and Ron Foster argue in their book Godbearing Life: The Art of Soul Tending for Youth Ministry (1998): “Worship with and for youth requires creativity, fun, and occasional-ly downright rowdiness in volume, playfulness and style. Sometimes worship should be a high-voltage experience, tapping into the energy that youth bring to the table. At other times, worship calls for silence and stillness, an atmosphere of holy hush. But no matter what form it takes, transformative worship with youth always must be awe-full . . . Plan for worship that keeps youth awake (in the very best sense of that word), that inculcates a sense of awe and wonder.”

Hillsong has a place in our culture of spectacles, and it speaks to millions of people, including hordes of young people from many dif-ferent cultures.

Adam Perez cautioned the crit-ics, saying “We think first and foremost about the hospitality of receiving gifts of music from persons and places with whom we have theological differences – even if those gifts are offered to us through industrial market forces. I’d err on the side of solidarity and ecumenism in music sharing.”

In other words, let’s not be stingy in our worship music choices. And maybe sing-ing Hillsong, which is from Australia, will inspire us to sing the songs of people from other places closer by – brothers and sisters with whom we have some theological or missional rela-tionship. Who do we want to align with in our worship? How can we better demonstrate our worship as “one multi-coloured church of God?”

PARTNERS WITH THE SPIRIT? A campus ministry couple from B.C. told me this story.

One of the university staff members was worried about her 14-year-old son. He had attended a youth group function at a local

megachurch, and she wondered how weird, cult-like and danger-ous the group might be. The cam-pus minister reassured her and suggested that she show up at a church service and observe.

So she did. She came back feeling basically reassured – and impressed with the music, “be-cause it’s all positive and up-beat. Nothing at all like the stuff my son has been listening to.”

In fact, much of the music was Hillsong, and so the staff member checked out Hillsong on YouTube. She was terribly impressed that none of the musicians tried to be “sexy.” She loved their energy and enthusiasm. Gradually she started attending the church and even-tually started thinking about the things that were said in the songs, sermons and prayers and made a personal commitment to Christ.

The campus minister ended her story by saying: “It all began out

READ MORE ABOUT CRIME-FIGHTING GARDENS

CityLab, February 7, 2018: bit.ly/2uUMiqSScience Magazine, February 26, 2018: bit.ly/2FytLlL

Jennie Stephenson

Jennie has a degree in animal biology, loves learning unfamiliar words, and is extremely fond of God’s gift of chocolate. She lives in Zeeland, MI.

Peter Schuurman

Peter plays guitar in his local church worship team. He has played Hillsong music without dry ice.


Editorial

There were no relatives here to greet us. I hadn’t set up my phone for Ireland. Instead of being Wel-come Guests we became People Who Stand in Line. The line-up to get assigned to a hotel took over two hours. A bus brought us to the village of Clondalkin, the snow coming sideways now. Put your luggage in this room. Wait over here until we call you to reg-ister. Please hold while we see if there are any available flights to Amsterdam tomorrow. Line up for a meal voucher. Line up for the buffet. Line up for a room key. Bed.

The next morning an email on my phone gave more bad news: our new flight had been can-celled. Outside our window, the only movement in the snowy landscape was one man hacking patiently at the snow with a metal garden shovel. He came out later with a broom, and Robin made a sketch entitled “No snow shovels in Ireland.” It felt good to laugh.

I spent most of Friday trying to buy a third set of airline tickets. Sarah sent updates from Amster-dam: people were skating on ca-nals! Dad called Holland again and again to cancel things: tick-ets, visits, rentals. The hotel was packed with other waylaid travel-lers – airport refugees, as I start-ed thinking of us. People paced around the lobby a lot, where cell phone reception was the clearest. We were all trying to get some-where else.

ACT, LEARN, REACH OUTI left Toronto hoping for a holi-day, not fodder for an editorial. I really didn’t appreciate anoth-er reminder of how the best-laid plans can dissolve so quickly. Airport refugees have a few small things in common with real refu-

gees, I think – like being depen-dent on the kindness of strangers. Normal things like finding food take so much time. We were grieving the loss of our old plans while trying to make new ones. Circumstances that were “noth-ing personal” affected us might-ily. It was enormously expensive. A scarcity mindset was prevalent. We fell for rumours, got good ad-vice, took bad advice. There was a sense of unreality the whole time, because this isn’t how it’s supposed to be!

We eventually acquired a third set of tickets for Sunday night. Our six days in Holland had been chopped down to two.

“I am never coming back to Dublin again,” Robin said em-phatically as our plane finally, fi-nally departed, after a nail-biting hour-long delay.

“Except for Wednesday,” she added. Our connecting flight home would stop here once more in just a few days. “But after Wednesday, never again.” We laughed a bit hysterically.

As the snow started to melt that last day, we could see some of Ireland’s infamous beauty. The grass underneath was a shocking-ly bright green.

Forbes would advise you, in times of disruption, to “Act. Learn. Repeat.”

What stuck more in my mind, however, were the people who reached out. The command to “love your neighbour” might ac-tually be easier than letting your-self be loved. But compassion makes all the difference when you’re living through this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

If I could remember the kind-ness of every person who had tried to help us, I would see more grass than snow.

Airport refugees in Ireland.

A RECENT FORBES magazine article called “How to Plan Your Life, When You Can’t Plan Your Life” explains how to thrive in uncertain times. The future is getting harder to predict, careers no longer prog-ress in a straight line and planning your way to success isn’t working anymore, Forbes says. It’s time for a new strategy: take one small step, learn from it, take another step.

I flew to the Netherlands in March with a tightly packed calendar in my pocket. We had spent weeks arranging it: my dad called cousins in Friesland. Twelve-year-old Robin read Anne Frank and booked tick-ets online to tour the famous Huis. After a short stopover in Ireland, the three of us would meet my sister Sarah, who had a direct flight from the States. We were excited to see the places and some of the people from Dad’s childhood, the stories we grew up hearing about Holland.

Snowstorm Emma, the “Beast from the East,” completely trashed those lovely plans. We landed Thursday, March 1 in Dublin for a four-hour layover, not dreaming we’d be stranded there the next four days instead. It was only snowing lightly at first, though the terminal was strangely empty. We checked the departures screen and kept an eye on the news as reporters warned in dire tones of “temperatures as low as minus 1,” which made us snicker. Then our connecting flight to Amsterdam was cancelled, and we were handed a sheet of paper that apologized for the inconvenience of the whole airport shutting down . . . until Saturday! I couldn’t quite believe it, until a kindly security guard explained, “We don’t get much snow in Ireland. We just can’t handle it. Have a Guinness, love, and you’ll cheer rooight up.”

The moment that flight was cancelled, our plans were worthless.

THE BEST LAID PLANSAngela Reitsma Bick | Editor [email protected]

Angela is Editor of Christian Courier, an independent publication with roots in the Reformed Church of the Netherlands.

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BOTH MY PARENTS WERE BORN in the Netherlands, and I recently traveled there for the first time. From the start, the trip went awry. My fellow travelers ended up stranded in Ireland, and I arrived in Amsterdam alone. I texted a cousin of my mother to come pick me up, and spent the next half hour craning my neck at people driving up, checking to see if the driver looked like one of my family members.

Piet Hein and I finally connected, and the blue twinkle in his eyes looked just like my Oma’s. I threw my arms around this man I’d never met before and hugged him. He was family. Piet Hein and his wife offered to host me until I could connect with the others, and we began a strange and delightful relationship.

Piet Hein made it his mission to show me all around Amsterdam, from satirical paintings, to architectural details, to the Anne Frank Huis. He pulled the car over at random spots along dikes and taught me about the incredible system to “keep our feet dry” in Holland.

One memorable evening, we attended a Korfbal tournament. A co-ed ball game invented in the Netherlands, it is passionately competi-tive, with stories of legendary proportions about Korfbal friendships and weddings of the past century. The Korfbal crowd drew me in, made me one with them, shared bitterballen and wine, and we had a marvelous time in the Korfbal bar afterwards, celebrating a big win.

THE CHURCH GLAZEAlthough an unbeliever, Piet Hein took me to my Opa and Oma’s church on Sunday. To explain the collection plates, he whispered, “One is for the building; one is to help people, and one is for the church to get more members – the church in Holland has big prob-lems.” After the service, I stood in the narthex, eagerly waiting to speak with people, to tell them about my family connection. I tried to catch people’s attention with my blue eyes. One by one, they did “the glaze” – that wretched churchy maneuver where people look at you briefly, then their eyes glaze over and focus on something just past your shoulder. I could feel the steam start to rise from my blond hair. “What am I, chopped liver?” I took Piet Hein by the hand, and we started to move in the general direction of our coats. It was like the parting of the Red Sea. Eyes glazed, they didn’t “see” us, yet they moved to make certain that our departure wouldn’t be hampered. At the coat rack I tried yet again. Like a deer in headlights, someone’s eyes caught mine. Her eyes widened; she mumbled something and slid off.

As we left the church, I turned to glare back at the building. It was a beautiful old brick structure. Possibly, my ancestors had been mem-bers there for generations. “That church deserves to die,” I declared to Piet Hein. “Your Korfbal members were welcoming. This church is closed.”

WHO FUNDRAISES THEIR OWN SALARY?In “Fundraising is Ministry” (Letters Feb. 26), Director of Resonate Global Mission, Zachary King, says “it’s important to note that do-mestic ministry leaders are responsible to raise 100 percent of their ministry’s funding.” Who does he define as a ministry leader? He sure is one in my books so are the regional missionaries. I do not see them trying to raise money for their ministry. Let stand their own salaries.

Harry BoessenkoolSurrey, B.C.

RESONATE RESPONDS:The article defines “domestic ministry leaders” as church planters and campus ministers. We wanted to clarify in our response that, just like international missionaries, these individuals have been engaged in support raising for many years. Church planters and campus ministers are not employees of Resonate even though they receive different forms of assistance (including financial) from Resonate.

In the letter we did not address Resonate’s regional ministry leaders in the U.S. and Canada (four in the U.S. and two in Can-ada) who are full-time Resonate employees and are increasingly involved in support raising for the various Resonate ministries that they coordinate. We anticipate this trend will continue in ways that are appropriate to the character of their work and the reality of shifting mission-funding models.

Zachary King, Director of Resonate Global Mission

SEVENTY TIMES SEVENI recently read Ken Koeman’s article “Forgive? Not So Quick” (CC, March 26) and must say I disagree with his interpretation of Jesus’ words, “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.”

Koeman’s argument that in saying these words Jesus was not forgiv-ing his killers but asking his Father to forgive them, seems to overlook that by asking his Father to forgive them Jesus was implicitly also forgiving them himself.

Other of Jesus’ words come to mind, such as his saying to Peter to

KORFBAL OR THE KERK?Sarah Brouwer | Guest Editor

Sarah is a Minnesotan strawberry farmer passionate about the connections between farm, faith and family.

forgive “seventy times seven” the brother who sinned against him. Yet no mention is made of re-pentance; the forgiveness was to come from Peter, without limit, whether or not his offender asked for it.

Peter RhebergenAjax, Ont.

FORGIVE, NO STRINGS ATTACHED I’ve just finished reading Ken Koeman’s “Forgive? Not So Quick.” To my way of thinking, Koeman’s approach to forgive-ness is deeply flawed. A person harmed can and should for-give without conditions – that is the essence of forgiveness itself. The offender can only receive the forgiveness by repenting – that is the nature of repentance for all of us who offend.

An unintended side-effect of withholding our forgiveness until we see evidence of repentance on the part of the one who harms us is that we allow the offender to control (and prevent) the healing that comes with forgiving and let-ting go of the offence.

And neither forgiveness nor repentance should short-circuit a prudent and wise process of re-building trust where it has been broken.

Neil Lettinga Prince George, B.C.


THIS MONTH MARKS the 50th anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., who gave his life for the civil rights cause. Rev. King relentlessly and non-violently opposed racism, and his vision, influence and leg-acy continue to endure. Unfortu-nately, racism is still a problem in North America.

As a 40-something white male, I find it tricky to write about rac-ism. It is not my story to tell. But I am also a Christian, and my area of expertise is care theory. As Christians, we know that the diversity present in the world powerfully reveals God’s cre-ativity and will. So we need to celebrate and welcome diversi-ty, and stand up when others are experiencing harm. As defined by N. Noddings, Care Theory reminds us that all humans have two care-related needs – the need to care for others and the need to be cared for by others. Both of these needs are at risk in a racist culture. Racism demeans the vic-tim and the perpetrator, causing harm to the victim and robbing the perpetrator of an opportuni-ty to communicate care. It also harms more than just the victim, particularly if bystanders do not object or oppose, thereby tacitly supporting racist behaviour and mindsets. We are all complicit in a racist culture when we do not stand up to support our brothers and sisters of colour.

While extreme and overt ex-amples of racist behaviour may be declining, this may actually mask the insidious nature of rac-ism. Multicultural scholar Dr. Derald Wing Sue defines micro-aggressions as “brief, everyday exchanges that send denigrating

the fans were ejected from the game. According to other fans sitting in the area, some of the hecklers shouted “basketball, basketball, basket-ball” at Smith-Pelly as he sat in the box. The implication, of course, is that Smith-Pelly should stick to basketball, rather than play hockey.

Just two days earlier, NBA star Lebron James was criticized by Lau-ra Ingraham, a Fox News host, who suggested James should “stick to basketball” and “shut up and dribble” after James criticized Donald Trump.

RACE-BASED ASSUMPTIONSWhat makes microaggressions dangerous is that people do not see them as dangerous. While they may reveal a racist mindset, they are often not seen as such by the perpetrator, or by those around them. In a recent Sportsnet article, black host Donnovon Bennett observed that “Race-based assumptions are made about us all the time. They include our interests, taste in music and occupations. These microaggressions reinforce that the world views you first and foremost by your skin colour and not your individual personality” (Feb. 21). Bennett’s com-ments get to the heart of the issue. Underground racism sends a clear message: black people should stick to things black people do.

Bennett continues, “What Ingraham did was covert (or so she thought). What the heckling Blackhawks fans did was overt but they were both communicating the same message: Stay in your lane. This is who you are as a black man.”

TELLING MY OWN STORYRacism is a problem that implicates us all. I have lived in a number of different Christian communities. Each of them struggled with rac-ism. In my professional career I have worked in several different ed-ucational settings. Each of them struggled with racism. In each com-munity, racist behaviour was rarely overt. Nobody was arrested for criminal racist behaviour or publicly chastised for racist mindsets and actions. Instead, the bias of racist individuals was revealed in words

messages to certain individuals because of their group member-ship” (“Microaggressions in ev-eryday life,” 2010). Two recent events in the world of profession-al sports draw attention to this dangerous trend.

SHUT UP AND DRIBBLEOn February 17, a number of Chicago Black Hawk fans racial-ly taunted Devante Smith-Pelly, a hockey forward playing for the visiting Washington Capitals, as he sat in the penalty box. Four of

and actions, in nonverbal com-munication, tone of voice, looks and sighs and rolling of the eyes. Though racism has gone under-ground, it remains mainstream.

At times when I confronted racist behaviour in classrooms and hallways, even people of colour objected to my objection. Sometimes the person I consid-ered the victim denied that rac-ism had occurred, suggesting that I was overreacting, and that the perpetrator was just joking. But this did not make the be-haviour right. I currently teach Asian international students in a postsecondary program at a local university. Their stories of the racist treatment they endure – in the university hallways and cafe-teria, at local grocery stores and restaurants – are shocking.

CHARACTER, NOT SKIN COLOURThese two recent and public ex-amples of racism could serve as a wakeup call, if we allow them to do so. As Bennett observed, the timing of these two incidents could not have been more ironic. They both happened mid-Febru-ary, when the NHL was celebrat-ing Hockey is for Everyone month and the NBA was commemorat-ing Black History Month.

Martin Luther King, Jr. de-livered his famous “I Have a Dream” speech at the feet of the statue of Abraham Lincoln in Washington, DC. This statue was erected in 1922, and since the 1930s has been a symbol of race relations and reconciliation. When Martin Luther King spoke in 1963, racism was still a prob-lem. He memorably declared, “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a na-tion where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin, but by the content of their character.”

I share his dream. His speech took place almost a decade be-fore my birth. Racism is still a problem. And unless something changes, it will be an enduring one.

WHEN RACISM GOES UNDERGROUND Christians need to confront racism that is subtle but still mainstream. | Sean Schat

Sean Schat

Sean is a former Christian school teacher and educational leader currently completing his PhD.

News

In April 1963, from jail, Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.”

LeBron James of the Cleveland Cavaliers. | Photo: Flikr/Keith Alliston


News

and I still felt numb in my own safe world.

Now, I worry when he doesn’t answer the phone.

While he was a passenger in my car, we were pulled over one night for absolutely no reason in our tiny, 90-percent white town. As if that wasn’t bad enough, three cops pulled up behind us as if we were some huge threat to society.

I feel the tension when we walk into an all-white room.

One of my teachers told me that my husband and I were putting a heavy burden on the shoulders of our future biracial children because, “They will suffer. They won’t know where to fit in and that’s not fair to do to a child.”

On multiple occasions, I have been called a “ni***r lover.”

While sitting in my car talking when we first met, someone called the police on us because we were engaging in “suspicious behavior.”

Being married to a black man has taught me that we still very much live in a racist society.

I now see what the fight is about. I now understand the mo-tive behind the hearts of those discriminated against. If I didn’t love someone who goes through it daily, I would still be in ab-solute denial saying, “Well, our country has made a lot of prog-ress. That’s worth something!”

That is not enough anymore.

GOD DESIGNED DIVERSITYGod created all people in his im-age. Therefore, he is black, white, tall, skinny, yellow, brown and anything above, below or in be-tween. He is everything and we own an inherent goodness be-cause of that.

Different skin colour wasn’t a mistake. God loves diversity. Why else would he create men and women? Why else would he create different body types and skin colours and people with different talents and interests? We “are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28).

Jimmie, my husband, said, “The people around here ha-ven’t been around black guys from Detroit like me. They are raised in racist homes, so when they meet me, they start thinking ‘hmmm, he’s not like the black people I’ve been hearing about.’ After that, their generalizations disappear, because without say-ing a word, I have changed their minds.”

As frustrating as it is, Jim-mie is right. We live in a bro-ken world and Satan uses things like race as a divisive tool. So, for now, we just have to be ex-amples. Jimmie has to contin-ue living his stressful life and I have to continue promoting how incredible he is in hopes to con-tradict the image the world has created of the black man.

We have spent the last year in

a church with mostly white peo-ple and I know that, like all other God-ordained things, our place-ment was no mistake. We have to be willing to go to 90-percent Caucasian towns and be differ-ent. Most importantly, though, we have to love those who hate us (cf. Matt. 5:43-48). It’s really easy to love those that love you. It’s a lot harder to love people who persecute you and discrim-inate against you and judge you – but that’s what we’re called to do. Change comes where kind-ness resides.

Let go of the jokes that have never been funny and the judge-ments that are far from correct. Let go of your purse, and your child’s hand.

“After this I looked, and there before me was a great multi-tude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, peo-ple and language, standing be-fore the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands” (Rev. 7:9).

Oh, how I long for this day.Until then, I will love my

sweet black husband, because this world does not.

IN THE EYES OF STRANGERS:Women clutch their purses when he walks by.

He feels the heaviness of many eyes planted upon him everywhere he goes.

He and I were once at a wedding and the father of the bride came up to him and said, “My buddy locked his keys in his car, can you come pop the lock and get them out?” Followed by a loud burst of laughter.

At a restaurant in my hometown, a guy that had met him on one other occasion said, “Hey buddy! They still haven’t kicked you out of this country yet?” Followed by a slap on the arm as if he was sup-posed to think it was funny.

He feels like he has no choice but to say, “It’s okay.”Parents grip the hands of their children a little bit tighter when he

is around.People look at him as if he is an ex-convict, not knowing he is a

youth pastor.He had to earn the respect of some of my family and friends be-

cause he isn’t what they wanted for me.His heart gets tight when we are near a police officer.He lives to prove that he isn’t the monster that the world deems him

to be.

CRUEL GENERALIZATIONSWhen I saw the movie Detroit, I left the theatre infuriated. The film in general was enough to anger me, but the familiarity between those 1960s events and today is what really made me upset.

I’m not afraid to admit that before I was married to a black man, I was completely oblivious to the existence of racism today. I saw the news, I saw African Americans shot in the street for “resisting arrest”

WHAT THEY SEE

What being married to a black man has taught me. Kayah Roper

Kayah Roper

Kayah is a blogger, beginning speaker, lover of Jesus, and a grateful recipient of a grace undeserved.

IN THE HEARTS OF THOSE WHO KNOW HIM:

He is a warrior. – Chris, Jimmie’s father-in-law

He is joyful and a blessing. – Whit, a close friend

He is humble. – Billy, Uncle

He is a big, lovable teddy bear. – Sarah, Aunt

He is faithful. – Jackson, cousin

He is a cool guy. – Brady, little cousin

He is funny. – Carter, little cousin

He is compassionate. – Ashlyn, member of the youth at our church

He is brave and strong and a foodie. – Antonia, member of the youth at our church


RESURRECTING RELIGION: FINDING OUR WAY BACK TO THE GOOD NEWSTom NicholsNavPress, 2018

the younger brother of Jesus, is born out in the reading of the epistle itself. If James wasn’t actually present on that moun-tainside when Jesus preached the sermon on the mount, then he has probably heard this stuff from his big brother at the din-ner table over the years.

Just as the epistle of James reads as something of an ex-tended reflection on the Sermon on the Mount, especially the Beatitudes, so also does Resur-recting Religion move back and forth from the epistle to the gos-pels, with Sanctuary narratives grounding it all in present expe-rience.

The result is something of a manifesto.

And that seems to be some-thing new for Greg Paul. Greg has always spoken compelling-ly and pastorally, with a deep prophetic edge. His books have invited us into the Sanctuary community not as a model to duplicate, but as a path of disci-pleship to join.

But this book takes it all a step further. This book is a call to the church to reformation. This is a bold call to a radical embrace of the religion of Jesus, and will not hesitate to use, and attempt to redeem and reclaim, that word – religion.

Like all good biblical reflec-tion, this book is an act of imag-ination for the liberation of our imaginations. Let me give you one sample:

Imagine if the church in this world, and the individuals who make it up, actually looked and acted like Jesus. Instead of spending most of our time and resources on a razzle-dazzle Sunday morning service, to-gether we’d heal the sick, feed the hungry, embrace the unwel-come, set prisoners free, restore the dignity of people who have been humiliated, flip the tables of oppressive economics, offer forgiveness instead of seeking vengeance, sacrifice rather than protect ourselves, and much, much more. We’d vote for gov-ernments that promised to do those things, instead of caving to

the miserable, miserly, faith-starved inducement of tax reduc-tion or other me-first policies. White police officers and young black men would embrace, and pray together. We’d send armies of servants instead of soldiers to less fortunate countries; we would overwhelm our enemies with love and self-sacrifice. We’d be content with having enough, and rather than contin-ually seeking more, more, more, we’d share our excess with those who don’t have enough. We’d do all this as well as announcing the Good News of salvation for the individual soul . . .

Well. . . yes. Well. . . amen. Here is a spirituality that breaks

through the tired old evangelical/liberal dichotomies. Here is a spirituality that just might open the Bible to you anew, precisely because this is a spirituality that knows what the Kingdom looks like, and what resurrected reli-gion is called to be.

It is, therefore, not surprising, that this is a spirituality that is impatient with theological ab-straction, radically committed to justice, and holds a healthy sus-picion of the rich. A resurrect-ed religion will be rooted in a deep Christian piety, profoundly committed to prayer, embrace a subversive joy in the midst of tragedy, and will be circumspect and wise regarding language. In-deed, this is a spirituality that is intimately related to Jesus.

That’s James. That’s Greg Paul. That’s Resurrecting Religion.

A SPIRITUALITY INTIMATELY RELATED TO JESUSBrian J. Walsh

LET ME DESCRIBE AN AUTHOR. This writer is impatient with theolog-ical abstraction, radically committed to justice and holds a healthy suspicion of the rich. Our author is rooted in a deep Christian piety, profoundly committed to prayer, embraces a subversive joy in the midst of tragedy, and is circumspect and wise regarding language. Indeed, we could sum up our description by saying that this person is intimately related to Jesus.

Who might I be talking about? I hope that you have lots of people that are immediately coming

to mind. I hope that maybe, with humility, and perhaps sheepishly, you might even think that this is you.

Or perhaps the you that you wish you were. But I’m actually thinking of two people: James, the brother of

Jesus, and Greg Paul, another brother of Jesus. Greg Paul is the pastor of the Sanctuary community in Toronto

and an award-winning author. And those of us who know Greg Paul do not find it at all surprising that he is so drawn to James and the letter that he wrote to Jewish Christians dispersed throughout the Roman empire.

You see, Greg has a striking resemblance to James. And like James before him, Greg has taken up the task of “resurrecting religion.”

We all know the bad rap that religion has got in recent years, and not just by the atheists, but from within as well. Who can forget Bruxy Cavey’s End of Religion? I mean, Cavey has pretty much resurrected a little and declining denomination on the basis of that book and the ministry that emerged at The Meeting House. (I sus-pect that Bruxy himself can taste the irony.)

And we all know that mainline churches are dying, with the rest of Christendom. No wonder that so many folks talk about being “spir-itual but not religious.” And you might figure that a guy so deeply shaped by an alternative community like Sanctuary just might be willing to get on board the “dump religion” bandwagon.

Nope. Not Greg Paul. Like James before him, Greg wants to resurrect religion, give it a

new body, allow it to be what it is called to be, coming to life again, with all of its scars open to view.

And you can see where this is going, can’t you? Here’s what James has to say about religion:

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep one-self from being polluted by the world.”

If that is religion, Greg Paul is arguing, then we need more of it, not less.

Like all of Greg Paul’s books, Resurrecting Religion is rooted in the Sanctuary community. If the religion that is to be resurrected is to have bones and flesh on it, if it is be a living, dynamic,acting, grieving, struggling and rejoicing body with orphans and widows, the marginal and broken, the poor and addicted, the mentally ill and rejected at its heart, then we need to be able to see this kind of religion in the flesh, if we are to hold any hope for such wider res-urrection.

Masterful storyteller that he is, Greg invites us into the lives of folks who, in all of their faults, embody the religion that James en-visions. Indeed, the book moves between deep and rich engagement with the Epistle of James, and the epistles written in life within the Sanctuary community.

What I so appreciate about this book is that Greg’s sensitive, care-ful, respectful and loving storytelling is mirrored in his exposition of James. And if you get close to James, then you get close to Jesus. The ancient tradition that the author of the epistle is none other than

Reviews

Brian Walsh

Brian is a Christian Reformed Campus minister at the University of Toronto, where he pastors the Wine Before Breakfast Community.

Greg Paul


WHEN REBECCA STEINER wakes up every morning (her present is our possible future, several decades hence), a persistent feeling of wrong-ness nags at her: the sun doesn’t hang at the right angle, her husband’s lips taste of mud, a forkful of French toast leaves a soapy aftertaste. A tragic event that occurred two years previously might account for her existential discomfort; she harbours a cloud of guilt over her potential responsibility in its aftermath. However, Rebecca is haunted most not by the accident, but by the other subject of her husband Philip’s devo-tion.

Philip, a theoretical physicist at a university in New Jersey, wants to create a “causality violation device (CVD),” a project that exiles him to academic pariah status. After eight years, he has yet to obtain any evidence of any such causality violation; that is, time travel. Obsessed with the prospect of scientific iniquity, Philip blinds himself to the re-ality beyond his laboratory: the fragmentation of his relationship with his wife. All the data he accumulates does not buttress his psyche – or hers – against potential unraveling.

Much of our modern faith in technology stems from its reams of data: that if only we had enough data, we could somehow discern “funda-mental truths” and chart the right course for humanity. Version Control raises important questions about this belief: what happens when the supposed truth becomes the pattern we project onto the data, rather that what it objectively tells us? At what point does the data we share about ourselves cease to be connected to specific people, and transform into unmoored (but still monetizable) digital detritus? Most of all, if given the chance to go back to correct a past mistake – with seeming-ly godlike omnipotence – would we, even if that correction erases the memory of the future self that made that choice?

Reviews

VERSION CONTROLDexter PalmerVintage, Reprint edition, 2017

Jennie Stephenson

Jennie has a degree in animal biology and loves learning unfamiliar words.

READING WITH PATRICK: A TEACHER, A STUDENT, AND A LIFE-CHANGING FRIENDSHIPMichelle KuoRandom House, 2017

WHEN MICHELLE KUO, the 22-year-old daughter of Taiwanese immi-grants, graduated from Harvard University, she had one goal: “What I wanted to do was straightforward, immediate work in places that needed people.” Kuo met a recruiter from Teach for America who told her that schools in the Mississippi Delta, among the poorest in the United States, desperately needed teachers.

In 2004, Kuo started teaching in Helena, Arkansas. Her goal was to teach American history through black literature. However, unprepared for what she encountered in the school and community– drugs, truan-cy, poorly educated students, violence, poverty, racial discrimination (against African Americans, but also against her as an ethnic minori-ty), and apathy– she changed her teaching strategy in order to reach her students within their reality.

As Kuo got to know the students, including Patrick (whom she men-tored for years to come, also as he was imprisoned for murder), she became aware of their optimism about the future. Intrigued, she asked them about the source of this hope: “Most kids told me it came from God. This belief in God, this idea that because human beings were made in God’s image their value was inherent, was foreign to me, but the longer I lived in the Delta, the more sense it made.”

Reading with Patrick is a timely, moving memoir which shares the painful legacy of slavery, the power of literature and a caring student-teacher relationship to affect transformation, and the ways in which Christian hope still shapes culture today.

HOPE IN HELENA, ARK.Sonya VanderVeen Feddema

PERFECTLY INFORMEDJennie Stephenson

HAVE DOG WILL TRAVEL is the story of Stephen Kuusisto, who was born blind to par-ents who taught him to hide his disability. It is also the story of Corky, the smart and spirited guide dog that taught him a better way of being in the world.

Throughout childhood and into his late thirties, Kuusis-to concealed his limited vi-sion. For example, although he could see only see colours and shapes in one eye, he never used a cane. His “aver-sion to blindness,” was driven by fear and shame, and he led a very lonely, isolated exis-tence.

Then Kuusisto met Corky, and he entered into a partnership of utter trust and gentle companionship. After extensive training, he and Corky were able to walk the busiest of streets together with joy and confidence. His travels connected him to fresh opportunities to appreciate beauty, cultivate friendships, and advocate for disability rights.

In lyrical and tender prose, Kuusisto chronicles his personal journey with blindness – a quest that is both physical and spiritual. He also explores the history of guide dogs and the societal prej-udices that can prevent people with disabilities from flourishing.

As Kuusisto pays tribute to his beloved first guide dog, he respects the inner curiosities of both canine and human affec-tion. “Disabilities never vanish. What a dog can do is entice you back into the world,” he writes. “The mysteries of [Corky’s] love and fast intel-ligence will never be know-able. I learned to like this as she guided me through the streets I could not see.”

EMBRACING BLINDNESSAdele Gallogly

Sonya VanderVeen Feddema

Sonya is a freelance writer living in St Catharines, Ont.

HAVE DOG, WILL TRAVEL: A POET’S JOURNEYStephen Kuusisto Simon & Schuster, 2018

Adele Gallogly

Adele is a communications writer for World Renew and lives in Hamilton, Ont.


Features

dom powers emerge to re-evangelize the secular west. Newbigin’s expedition that was “sent to the ends of the earth” is quite differ-ent than the founders of the world mission movement imagined in Edinburgh in 1910. Decade by decade, the CWME gatherings have reflected the shifting influence and vitality of the global church and Arusha followed this trend.

As a missiologist, I found it interesting to listen carefully to how participants from various parts of Christ’s church defined mission. When sitting in table groups with delegates as varied as The Church of Sweden, The Presbyterian Church in Ghana or the Javanese Christian Churches, the difference of opinion at times regarding mission was stark. Mission for many from the West clearly echoed the movement away from personal salvation of social gospel to so-cial justice, using language of confronting dehumanizing institu-tions and structures at work in the world today.

In contrast, mission for many in the global south included a strong need for evangelism as witness in a context engaged in spiritual conflict between the goodness of God and the reality of evil, within a world oriented toward an eschatological hope of Christ’s return. In fact, I found myself paying (praying?) attention to how many times speakers, when referring to the conference, edited the title and simply described our gathering as the “Conference on World Mis-sion.” As a professor in a mainline seminary who regularly teaches a course on evangelism, it was interesting to note that for many west-erners the concept of witness for the sake of conversion (always the work of the Holy Spirit!) continues to be unseemly.

TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH

participants who gathered to worship the Triune God, par-ticipate in study of God’s Word, hear from inspiring plenary and workshop speakers, discuss and debate the concepts of mission and evangelism and affirm the “Arusha Call to Discipleship.” Images were shown of the first global gathering of this kind – the 1910 World Mission Con-ference in Edinburgh where only 17 participants of the 1,400 came from the “third world.” In 2018 Arusha, however, the global diversity and shifting in-fluence of the Christian church from North to South and West to East was evident as former franchises of the old Christen-

Discussing missional differences at the WCC conference. | Ross Lockhart

“THE CHURCH…is not so much an institution as an expedition sent to the ends of the earth in Christ’s name.”

Lesslie Newbigin made this bold declaration in his 1960’s work, Trinitarian Doctrine for Today’s Mission. I thought often of New-bigin while attending the World Council of Churches Conference on World Mission and Evangelism (CWME) in Arusha, Tanzania, March 8 to 13. After all, it was Newbigin who helped bring the International Missionary Council into the World Council of Church-es (WCC) in 1961. The English-born, Church of Scotland-sent, Church of South India-consecrated bishop became the first Director of the Division of World Mission and Evangelism in Geneva that organizes the CWME held over the years in such diverse locations as Mexico City, Melbourne and Athens. There was a sense at this gathering, however, that the time was right, if not overdue, to rec-ognize the growth and vibrancy of the global church through the African continent.

To that end, Tanzania was the perfect place to host this latest gath-ering of the CWME with its theme, “Moving in the Spirit: Called to Transforming Discipleship.” The vibrancy and diversity of the Christian church and its witness in Africa was evident to the 1,000

Conference participants attended Sunday worship at Christ Church Cathedral in central Arusha. Welcoming the international visitors to an African worship experience, the service combined traditional aspects of the Anglican liturgy with contemporary African

charisma, through choirs and dance. | Photo: Albin Hillert/WCC

Embracing the Cross plenary at the Conference on World Mission and Evangelism in Arusha, Tanzania. The conference theme was “Moving in the Spirit: Called to

Transforming Discipleship.” | Photo: Albin Hillert/WCC

Continued on next page


Features

Rev. Dr. Ross Lockhart

Ross is Associate Professor at St. Andrew’s Hall at The University of British Columbia and Director of The Centre for Missional Leadership. He’s the author of Lessons from Laodicea: Missional Leadership in a Culture of Affluence.

I JUST SENT A TEXT to the guy I’m dating, asking him to recommend some music I can listen to while writ-ing.

“Something pretty and not distracting,” was my request.

His near-immediate response? “Debussy.”Classical music buffs (of which I’m generally not)

will likely know the name. Claude Debussy was a French composer and pianist of high repute, and as I rarely dispute his musical recommendations, I cued up a playlist.

La mer, L. 109: No. 2. Jeux de vagues began to play. I felt like I was in the middle of a Disney movie, swallowed by the sea and swimming in the depths alongside all manner of fantastical fish and colourful creatures.

It seemed a fitting image for my life of late. Well, at least the swimming in the depths part.

You see, last spring my husband and I separated. We had been married for 13 years. Two wonderful children. It’s all so very sad. The final troubling years. The decision to actually end it. The horrible fallout and confusion and depression and roller coaster of emotions and medication and therapy and changing routines and upset children and sorting out finances and thinking you’re over it but realizing you’re not over it, and, and . . . .

“Be still and know that I am God.” My minister (and good friend) reminded me of this

verse quite some time ago, before my marriage actu-ally fell apart but things were still tough and painful. My job of 14 years – I previously was managing ed-itor at the Presbyterian Record – was also coming to an end, and at the same time, I turned 40.

In the midst of that storm, and while splashing and gasping in the depths, it was difficult to remember God at all.

I listened to music that either cheered me up or made me cry. I went to the gym. I practiced yoga. I talked with good (read: loyal, supportive, utterly amazing, God-given) friends. I wrote. I read. I cried.

But God? I said the occasional prayer. I knew God was there. Or did I? I guess, like that lovely little “Footprints” poem

I’m sure we all know, when the two sets of prints in the dampened sand became just one; during the time of hardship, of sorrow, of difficulty, when we ques-tion God’s presence, “. . . it was then that I carried you.”

And when I look back on the past year or so, I see it of course. I see how God sent me friends and family and support and work and new opportunities. I see how I started to feel better, little by little, day by day. And I see how God kept me connected to the church world that has become such a huge part of my life.

Particularly through the kinds of work I’ve been sent. I’m a full-time freelancer now, doing various sorts of communications work. One of my roles is as the new Features Editor for this wonderful publi-cation. I very much look forward to getting to know these pages better, as well as our loyal Christian Courier readers.

That said, my hopes for these pages are that they will inspire, inform and challenge you. I want to bring you wonderful stories. Stories of people, most-ly (isn’t it a beautiful thing to think that everyone has a story to tell? The next time you’re with an old friend, an elderly relative, or even someone sitting beside you at the coffee shop, ask them to tell you a favourite story from their childhood!).

You will most likely notice some recurring themes that I’m big on right now: community and communi-ty-building; connection, authenticity and vulnerabili-ty; family and faith; food; and stories about life in all its mess and pain and joy. Also bigger-issue stories related to ethical questions in the news.

I am so looking forward to diving in, to swimming these waters with you. Hopefully, I will help remind you that everything in life points to God – even when we think God is no longer there, and the waves threaten to swallow us up entirely.

“Be still,” the psalmist reminds us, “and know that I am God.”

Until next issue!

Be Still and KnowSharing our stories amidst the storm.Amy MacLachlan

Amy MacLachlan

Amy is CC’s new Features Editor, mother of two girls, and a freelance journalist. She lives just west of Toronto, Ont. As this story hints, she loves music and going to the beach. She sometimes indulges in online shopping and enjoys chocolate-covered pretzels a little too often.

I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU! Send your questions, comments and story ideas to [email protected]

In part, the struggle comes from those of us in the West who live daily in the reality of what Charles Taylor has helpfully described as “the imminent frame.” The Afri-can context of this CWME helped to stoke the imagin-ation of participants and reframe for many the assump-tions that we brought with us as we engaged in reflection on the work of the Holy Spirit in that place. Added to the somewhat divergent worldviews of Protestant global south and western participants was the helpful and nota-ble presence of Roman Catholic and Orthodox leaders, including delegates from these traditions in Africa. Re-flection on mission as “the liturgy after the liturgy” and the solid Trinitarian framework that those traditions embody helped anchor, especially when in the broad-er African context, the missional conversations at the gathering. Such conversations gracefully avoided most of the arguments often found in our usual western de-nominational clusters. For example, it was noteworthy that the highly divisive question of human sexuality was profoundly muted at the conference in a way that would not be true in most western gatherings.

In the end, the Conference on World Mission and Evangelism produced the “Arusha Call to Discipleship” document. That epistle was worked out ahead of time by the World Mission and Evangelism Commission of the WCC which meant delegates had minimal opportunity for input. The “Call to Discipleship” names themes of the conference confronting the global church and its wit-ness regarding wealth and poverty, war and peace and the stewardship of the human creature in creation. The call ends with a prayer that invites us to take up our cross and become “pilgrims of justice and peace in our time.” As the expedition of the church, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, continues towards the consummation of God’s mission, it was encouraging to see the “ends of the earth” animating and articulating the gospel across a vast diversity of time, space and context in order to be the sign, foretaste and instrument of the Kingdom that Lesslie Newbigin once imagined.

Dr. Chibuzo Raphael Opoko, Methodist Church Nigeria, speaking at the sending service at the Conference of World Mission and Evangelism.

Photo: Albin Hillert/WCC


Columns

In honour of John Hiemstra

‘look up,’ my friend advisedas I shuffled slowly into church.

‘look up,’ he said,although he was himselfa man of soil, a gardenerwith eyes on fragile seedlings,his fingers spread to test the tilth of soil they would soon call home.

‘look up,’ he urged,while coaxing cabbage or kaleinto bursts of birthwith calloused hands.

‘look up,’ I self-adjurein arctic land with shelves of rock,expanse of silvered sea and horizontal sky that – no matter how I try –

A degree you can believe in.redeemer.ca

can be big, like Olympic medical team big. Or it can be small, like improving posture small. It’s about what you choose to do on the one hand, and who you are on the other. We are more than our jobs, and God has a calling for each of us, wherever we go.

That changes everything.

Starting with you.

Think you can change the world with exercise?

We do.C H A N G E

‘LOOK UP’Curt Gesch | [email protected]

Curt is a farmer and retired teacher in Telkwa, B.C., who mostly just looks at things and then writes about them.

keeps pushing my gaze toflattened flowers with shortened stems and willow hugging soilless sands.

‘look up,’ I findthe best advice though I – a man of earth and brook,and lowered eyes – still find that ‘down’ declares the holy to be here,gladly calling home this cold land of down-low things.

‘look down,’ I say, to find transcendent God in fields of common clay.

IqaluitSept. 6, 2017

The tundra landscape outside Iqaluit, looking towards the bay. | Photo: Curt Gesch

Bottom left: John Hiemstra


Columns

of the bread, we can consider the sower, the act of harvest, the im-ages of yeast rising, the table and the feast. The shepherd prompts us to ask about the dangers the sheep may face and the nature of the united flock. In this sparse Biblical poetry, there is a deep richness that meets us in our un-certain days.

And while the fact of my own moving house may prove a poor metaphor for all the changes of heart and history that followed Easter, I will tell you that when my friend dropped by with those used moving boxes, I felt shep-herded and equipped. I felt seen, met and loved, and my hands and heart were ready for the change ahead.

to say that. She smiled, looking vibrant and gorgeous as always. She said she’d called my husband at work and he’d told her about my cold. I smiled back weakly. Then she opened her back door and reached inside for the boxes.

“Happy Easter,” she said. “It’s a good time for new things.”

BALANCING METAPHORSShe’s right, of course. New life springs abundant and that makes Easter feel so fitting in a north-ern climate. I hear that things are a little warmer these days in Je-rusalem. Friends who live there have been posting beautiful leafy sunset photos on social media, but here we’re right on the cusp of green and growth and the first real warmth of the year. But change, of course, isn’t all about warming and comfort. It can also be heavy-lifting: difficult and un-settling.

I imagine the disciples in their uneasy post-Easter days, sud-denly believing but not under-standing, struggling with doubt and faith, practice and new pat-terns. After the resurrection, ev-erything shifted. They needed to learn again what it would mean

to follow God into new places and new ways of being. I imagine them straining to share their gos-pel while still trying to hold on to the strength that comes from familiarity, tradition and continu-ity. That tension birthed our own communities of faith and we live in its shadow and light today.

In this season of Eastertide, I am grateful for the I am state-ments from John’s Gospel. Christ says: I am the bread of life, the light of the world, the door and the good shepherd, the resurrec-tion and the life and the true vine and the way. In each metaphor, he gives us something concrete and familiar to grasp and something more. Each metaphor draws us into a relationship. In the image

THE TUESDAY AFTER EASTER and a knock on the door. I was hiber-nating with a bad cold and considered ignoring it. If it was a delivery, they’d slip a note through the letterbox and I could deal with it later. But I sneezed and felt conspicuous, so I hauled myself to my feet.

I should have been up anyway. There was a lot to do. The week before, our landlords let us know they were selling the house and, though we could have waited a month or two for their sale to finalize, this story was only going to end one way. A few days later, we were viewing new homes. With time on our side, we could find somewhere in the neighbourhood. Hopefully somewhere familiar for our kids commuting to school and somewhere within the same rent bracket. It would be change, but not drastic change.

It didn’t take long – much less time than we’d anticipated. Sudden-ly we were the other side of Easter and scrambling to get everything packed for a midmonth move. There were dismantled things every-where and the few boxes we had, already packed with the first of the books. And then a bad cold and its entangling lethargy. And a knock on the door.

HELPI saw a friend’s van pulled up sideways in front of the house. She’d tried to call, she said, but there’d been no answer. She was standing on the street now and must have seen my look towards the backseat.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t bring the kids.” Still, I was in no state for a visit and couldn’t quite figure out how

A STORY OF MOVING BOXES

Katie Munnik | [email protected]

Katie is an Ottawa writer living in Wales with her husband and three growing kids.

CALLS TO ACTION ON compelling issues land in my inbox every day. Setting priorities for use of my time, money and voting power re-quires focused attention – and wisdom. This week we learned that some of the messages we receive may be manipulated by powerful forces, with the goal of capturing state power and public resources for their own purposes. Analysis of data obtained from electronic connections and clever marketing are used to prey on personal fears

and dreams. If facts need to be distorted to achieve power, it is excused, sometimes in the name of God. That adds another layer of complexity to the need for dis-cernment to exercise our roles as Christians, citizens and consum-ers wisely.

Test the spirits, says Paul, to see if they be of God. Not easy to do these days. One route is to follow your passions or intuitions. It is good to feel strongly about some-thing, but history reminds us that Christians sometimes passionate-ly supported unjust and harmful practices. In addition to discern-ing between good and evil, God also wants us to be wise and clev-er, using God’s gifts strategically as investments that return good value for the Kingdom.

THE WRONG PAGE?Sometimes I reflect on what Je-sus would make his priority if he came to Canada today. I also look at what church leaders are saying – and when they are silent. Si-lence is powerful. I am reminded

of that when I participate in pub-lic forums on environmental is-sues, poverty or human rights and the question comes: Why aren’t church leaders speaking about this? I find it hard to counter as-sessments that the church speaks loudly when it is defending its own interests as religious rights but seems silent when the rights and well-being of others are threat-ened. My grandchildren tell me churches are “on the wrong page” because they do not see churches providing moral leadership on the critical societal decisions that are shaping their futures.

I think they may be right. If I wanted to sideline the influence of Christians and increase the power of greedy, self-centered market forces, a good strategy would be stirring up internal dissension to silence church voices on the issues that determine the direction of so-ciety and divert attention to highly emotional personal issues that are going to be resolved through other avenues – pretty much what I see happening.

SPACE TO GROW WISDOMKathy Vandergrift | [email protected]

Asking questions and digging deeper describe Kathy Vandergrift’s approach to social issues and public ethics.

SPACES FOR DISCERNMENTSome moments in history are catalytic: emerging forces come together for new direction or destabilize into war. Our time seems like that, with the com-ing together of ecological de-struction, automation, income disparity and racial tensions. At times like this there is a need for community spaces of discern-ment where we can go with Bi-ble in one hand, news feeds in the other, and ask hard questions without being accused of here-sy – where we can also draw on science, history and community insights to find the wisest ways to use our role as citizens in trou-bling times. One overture to the Synod of the Christian Reformed Church (CRC) this year reflects this need and calls on churches to lead in this area of disciple-ship. The same need exists out-side CRC church walls. Creating spaces to grow civic wisdom could be a ministry of service to the community as well.


Columns

would, using our information to the best interests of our neigh-bour. We are called to protect the interests of others and not use what we know in a way that would harm.

RESPONSIBLE RESEARCHA small example from my sci-entific world may be helpful. When we collect data on indi-viduals that could potentially have an impact on them, we should go back and share that specific information with our research participants, something that we have not always done. If our data can predict a medi-cal condition, we should alert people who may be prone to this illness. We owe it to our partic-ipants not simply to collect our data and leave them, but also to love them and, using our re-search, to speak to their needs. Sometimes scientists assume that publication of their research fulfills this social responsibil-ity to provide participants with all the necessary information. Christian scientists need to set a higher bar.

OUTSIDE OUR DEPARTMENTAL OFFICE, we have a waiting area where eight or nine students will often be sitting. It is like a doctor’s waiting room but there are no magazines. I usually see only a row of heads, bent (almost as if they are in prayer) over smart phone screens. The school has had to add multiple electrical outlets in the atrium, where students sit to study, so they can keep their laptops, tablets and smart-phones charged. We live in a world in which an almost seamless elec-tronic network is binding us all together.

People are connected to the World Wide Web, to Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and to other net-works. One consequence of this hyper-connected universe is that information about us is available to many others. The privacy issue raised by Cambridge Analytica in recent elections about the use of personal information on Facebook is just one recent example of the use and abuse of this technology. The targeted false news claims made by Russian interests in elec-tions is a concern to all democra-cies. And what do insurance com-panies and employers know about us that can affect our future ca-reers and our ability to be insured? Privacy is difficult to control in this interconnected world.

STEEPED IN LOVEScripture clearly teaches that God is intimately aware of our lives, from before our birth, through our hair loss as we age, on to our ultimate death (Ps. 139, Matt. 10:30). We have no privacy be-fore God. Cambridge Analytica’s ability to understand and predict our behaviour is nothing beside

God’s knowledge of our sins, our motivations, and our good behaviours. So why are we con-cerned about privacy among our fellow humans, when we do not have privacy before God?

The difference, for Christians, between the knowledge held in the mind of God and the data vaults of Cambridge Analytica is that God’s knowledge is bound by and steeped in love. God gave himself in the person of Jesus to redeem creation. As followers of Jesus we know that ultimately all things work for our good (Rom. 8:28); this is our faith even in times when we cannot see clearly through the pain we experience. In stark contrast, the behaviours of human agencies and companies are largely motivated by self-in-terest, by a desire to use their knowledge of us for their own benefit. God’s concern is selfless to his creation at his cost, while human interests are mostly selfish and taken at a cost to others.

What, then, is our responsi-bility as Christians in this in-formation age? The old answer still holds: to behave as God

‘BIND US TOGETHER’. . .Rudy Eikelboom | [email protected]

Rudy , who has a minimal electronic presence, is a member of Waterloo CRC and chairs the Psychology Department at Wilfrid Laurier University.

gees. I mentioned that the little girl for whom I wanted to buy a doll was only five years old.

“Oh, they soon know what’s going on,” I was assured. And the Barbie lifestyle would soon teach them if they didn’t. Barbie, you see, has a boyfriend named Ken, who has muscles in places where I don’t even have places. He too has a complete wardrobe. Of course, Barbie and Ken are very popular and have many friends. And to show that they are social-ly aware, broad-minded dolls, they have friends of various co-lours.

“Very educational,” my sales clerk intoned. So we have Brad

SHOPPING IN GOD’S WORLD

DURING THE 1970’S, I was involved in editing and writing for a youth magazine called Credo. Recently I was browsing through my bound collection of Credo issues when I ran across an article I wrote about shopping for my nieces. Here’s an excerpt, edited slightly.

SALES PITCHI have sisters who have children and so I am an uncle. Unmarried un-cles are marvellous creatures in the eyes of their nephews and nieces because they tend to have loose purse strings and soft hearts. Thus it was that I recently found myself in the toy department of a large store. I wanted to buy a cuddly dolly for one of my little nieces.

“Cuddly dollies aren’t in any more, sir,” the teenaged sales clerk informed me. So I asked her what kind of dolls were “in,” whereupon she answered, “Barbie dolls,” whereupon I realized my absolute stu-pidity. Of course, Barbie dolls. Barbie is about nine inches high and, if my calculations are correct, is built to a scale of about 40-24-36. She has a “twist and turn waist, bendable legs and real eyelashes.”

My sales clerk pointed out some of the other thrilling things about Barbie.

“Naturally,” she said, “your little niece will want a complete ward-robe for her doll.”

“Naturally,” I replied.And, indeed, “a complete wardrobe of groovy fashions” was to be

had, including coloured bras, skimpy bikinis and diaphanous negli-

Bob Bruinsma | [email protected]

Bob is a retired Professor of Education living in Edmonton who likes to write about all sorts of interesting things in God’s creation.

and Christie, a black couple, and there is P.J. (Latino) who is Bar-bie’s best friend. All come with complete wardrobes as well as sports cars and motorhomes so that “your little niece can build her life around these toys.”

I was not convinced. Being an early adopter of feminism, I bought my niece a fully function-ing Tonkin dump truck instead.

SAME BODY SHAPEThat was 50 years ago, but Barbie is still a major earner for the toy maker Mattel. A bit of modern feminism has made its way in re-cent marketing campaigns. There is now an aspirational line of Bar-

bie dolls with the tag line “You can be __________”, providing career choices (with appropriate fashion accoutrements, of course) for Barbie as a comedian, presi-dent, songwriter, medal winner, doctor, pilot, athlete and so on. Although the aspirational line of diverse role model Barbies ac-counts for a very small percent-age of Mattel’s various Barbie lines, it is seen as being a serious business move in the toy market-ing game for girls. Personally, I’m not sure it is anything more than a PR move, but then, what does a 72-year-old grandfather with only grandsons know about these things?


Columns

the tomb. His followers in the dark of despair and silent ques-tioning. Confront the darkness and questions in your own soul, “Who will roll the stone away?” Wait and watch.

EASTER SUNDAY (16:4-8)Easter means the shining of the eastern dawn light from Eostre, the Anglo goddess of Spring. There is light, but far more than the annual renewal of Spring The stone is rolled away. There is the announcement, good news, life. Not all is done. Not all is resolved. There is still fear and failure, but there is a new way. Renew your goals, renew your hope. Be resurrected to new life.

NEW MONDAY (16:9-20)Mark’s Gospel seemed un-finished. It is. Matthew, Luke and John needed to say more. It seems that others borrowed these stories to add to the end of Mark. We are still adding to the end of the story daily. Walk your days in holy weeks.

music. As for Mozart the man, I will note here that the depiction of him in the 1984 movie Amade-us as a mindboggling genius with off-putting immature vulgarity and promiscuity is a myth, as was a jealous rivalry between him and the minor composer Antonio Sa-lieri, and Salieri’s lethal poison-ing of Mozart.

After that one performance led by Mozart himself, the C Minor languished unheard and unknown until 1902 when conductor Alois Schmitt undertook to complete it. In the last few decades a handful of fine musicologists have recon-structed their own (better) com-pletions of the work. There are now dozens of recordings of the Mass in its several versions – an embarrassment of riches!

SHADOWS FALLWhat is so singular about Mo-zart? The 20th century Swiss Reformed theologian Karl Barth thought a great deal about that. He said, “Mozart’s music always sounds unburdened, effortless and light. This is why it unbur-dens, releases and liberates us.” Barth also observed, “Mozart’s music is free of all exaggeration,

of all sharp breaks and contradic-tions. The sun shines but does not blind, does not burn or consume. Heaven arches over the earth, but it does not weigh it down; it does not crush or devour it.” And: “Heaven and earth, nature and man, comedy and tragedy . . . Mo-zart simply contains and includes all this within his music in perfect harmony. This harmony is not a matter of ‘balance’ or ‘indiffer-ence’ – it is a glorious upsetting of the balance, a turning in which the light rises and the shadows fall, in

MOZART AND MERCY

A WONDERFUL ASPECT of our electronic age is that we have access – in church, concert halls, homes, cars, literally anywhere – to the thousands of hymns, chants, songs and choral works that span the years and church seasons and help us “sing and make melody to the Lord with our hearts” (Eph. 5:19). Currently I am deeply engaged, at home and in symphony chorus rehearsals, with Mozart’s Mass in C Minor (“The Great”).

Now heard primarily as concert works, musical masses were pre-viously written for the Roman Catholic Mass service. The five “ordi-nary” (weekly) Mass parts have texts to which all Christians can as-sent. The Kyrie fervently prays: Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison: “Lord, have mercy! Christ, have mercy! Lord, have mercy.” The Gloria then erupts in a joyous song of praise: “Glory to God in the highest . . . .” The Credo confesses the entire Nicene Creed. The Sanctus (“Holy, holy, holy”) magnifies the “Lord God of Sabaoth.” Shifting back to our own dire need for reconciliation to God, the Ag-nus Dei addresses Christ himself: “Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, have mercy on us . . . and grant us peace. Amen.”

Mozart probably wrote the C Minor Mass for his wife, Constanza, in honor of their marriage. It was one of his 18 Masses, but, myste-riously, the only one he never finished. Yet, Mozart being Mozart, he conducted a complete performance of it in 1783 by filling in the unfinished movements with musical sketches and likely with other previously composed music. Despite it being unfinished, the C Minor Mass is now considered one of the three greatest masses in Western

Marian Van Til | [email protected]

Marian is a church and classical musician who lives with her husband and cats in Youngstown, NY.

‘WOKE’ TUESDAY (20-13:37)Tuesday is a long day. It starts with a challenge to faith and ques-tions of authority. Who is Lord of life? Who owns the company, us (capitalism), Caesar (socialism), or the Son? What is the end – competition, conflict, destruction and poverty; or seeing the com-ing of the Son of Man in power and glory? See the signs, be woke to injustice, work for peace, and proclaim the gospel.

ANOINTING WEDNESDAY (14:1-11)On Wednesday we are still in the middle of economics. Can what we have be used to anoint the king? Here is the question of the use of our resources, especially our wealth. We see the thing, not the person and the purpose, and react indignantly in judgment. We crave the power of money. Money is an anointing; use it as a gift to bless others with anointing oil.

MAUNDY THURSDAY (12-72)Maundy means “commandment.”

The name comes from John’s Gospel, “A new command I give you; Love one another” (13:34a). Mark pictures this love given and broken on Thursday. Jesus lov-ingly invites his disciples into a new covenant through the meal, but it is broken by weakness, be-trayal and denial. Peter’s three-fold denial can only be overcome with Jesus’ threefold question and command in John 21. “Do you love me?” “Feed my sheep.” Love each other.

GOOD FRIDAY (15:1-47)Friday drives us to the question, “Who is king?” Who rules my life and world? We stand on tri-al. We stand before the choice. Is this the Son of God, the ser-vant of God, the suffering way of God? Confess your wrong ways, means and goals and profess God’s.

BLACK SATURDAY (15:48-16:3)All we know of Saturday is wait-ing and watching in darkness and silence. Jesus in the darkness of

THE WEEK BEFORE HOLY WEEK I experienced the dynamics of Good Friday, Black Saturday and Easter Sunday in a church Classis meet-ing. We addressed a broken relationship as we sat before the cross hearing cries of sin. For 24 years, people had lived on Saturday in the brokenness and pain. We were given the opportunity to express Easter, reconciliation, new life, hope, celebration.

Often Holy Week is largely like most others, perhaps with family or added worship services, but not necessarily holy. I encourage you to live each week as Holy Week. The Gospel of Mark slows down to tell the week day by day.

PALM SUNDAY (MARK 11:1-11)On this day Jesus symbolically entered Jerusalem as a king on a don-key, not horse power. We can reflect on our sense of power, our ex-pectations of success, and join the pilgrimage prayer and praise song, “Hosanna, Lord, save us.”

CLEANING MONDAY (12-19)Monday is a day of frustration and house cleaning. The fig tree is cursed for bearing no fruit. Economics has corrupted the temple. It has lost its purpose. Let Sunday’s prayer on Monday bear purposeful fruit for all nations.

which the Yes rings louder than the ever-present.”

As for me, in the last several months my chronic illness ex-hibited itself in acute and relent-less fatigue. I felt tested. God seemed absent, or at least silent. But during that time, he gave me a gift: the Kyrie of the C Minor Mass, with its peculiarly Mo-zartian fusion of melancholy and profound hope. It became my own prayer for mercy. A prayer – thanks be to God! – he has now answered.

HOLY WEEK(S)Thomas Wolthuis | [email protected]

Thomas is a Christian Reformed pastor serving in campus ministry at the Univer-sity of Iowa.

LISTEN ONLINE

On Youtube search “Mozart Mass in C Minor Hogwood.”


I’m being extremely rude.” No one leaves on their own because no one wants to be the first to go, even if it means staying past paid hours. Indeed, at such times, every-one starts pretending to be extremely busy so that no one will happen to be the first one “getting ready to go.” Multiple friends have told me that this happens every day like clockwork, even if their colleagues had really been playing video games on their computer all day. What might appear as loyalty to the company is often actually an objective neglect of family life. Many of my own students say that they never knew their dad, even though they lived in the same home. This is because he would always come back after they fell asleep, and was never there on the weekend ex-cept for rare occasions when he wasn’t out with colleagues.

STATISTICS AND SURRENDEROnly a small percentage of Japanese peo-ple are Christians, but we’ve seen numer-ous churches and met many Christians throughout Japan. It comes down to more than just a statistic put out by missionaries for their supporters to believe in the work they’re doing. Here there can be no substi-tute for surrender to Christ, as well as the concomitant trust in him to be a person’s Lord and Saviour. I’ve sought to assure the Japanese people with whom I share the Gospel that “Western” people too have aspects of their culture that completely push Jesus out of their life and keep him at bay while idols reign in their hearts. As an ambassador of Christ, we need not mea-sure how people respond to the good news in surveys, especially in such an elusive culture. It is simply an honour and joy in itself to share the Gospel, and to live in restored relationship with God – to be a witness for him.

idea is simple: drinking allows people to communicate.

RULES FOR RULESIn fact, relative to the North American ex-perience, almost everything in Japanese culture flows faithfully along the well-worn grooves of custom and rule. Meals, elevator small talk and even thinking to oneself all involve neatly objective proce-dures for all conceivable situations. In my experience, visitors who stay for a long pe-riod of time have often said there seem to be rules for the rules! For example, when getting a parking sticker as a Japanese res-ident, one must talk with approximately 12 different people from four different depart-ments, scheduling at least three different meetings. If all this is executed adequately over the course of a single week, then – and only then – one is free to park.

As someone interested in being an effec-tive witness for the gospel of Christ in Ja-

pan, I find that an association keeps com-ing to mind. 21st century Japanese culture seems to have some uncanny resonances with Jesus’ own context of first-century Judaism, at least as it is described in the scriptural account of his ministry. Both have a strong sense of national belong-ing, as well as a strong, defined nexus of customs to which individuals conform themselves as members of a single people. This remarkable feature of Japan and its experience has its downsides. It’s difficult for the people to imagine new ways to better themselves, for example, or accept that ideas other than their own might be true. Unfortunate social practices such as public shaming are implemented as a way to encourage others to conform to famil-iar patterns. It’s very difficult in Japanese culture to call one another into question when necessary, or to simply say “no.” In fact, the very framework of the Japanese language is such that most sentences are used to simply imply something indirectly – even slightly – without actually stating what it is that the speaker is trying to say.

‘DIFFICULT’Curiously, from the perspective of North American outsiders, the Japanese people also understand themselves to be all-ac-cepting and non-confrontational. There is a public ethos of completely welcoming all things and ideas, which is ironically part of their uniform indirectness. Again, there is no place in a conversation to actu-ally say no, or to reject something outright. Instead, one must literally say that some-thing is “difficult.”

In my own life, my family and I regular-ly plan events and get-togethers in Japan in which – after weeks of arranging details – we receive messages of all sorts from our Japanese acquaintances on the day of the event as to why they aren’t able to come. Truthfully, they can’t tell us from the be-ginning that they don’t want to come. In a real sense, they must wait until even an hour beforehand before reporting that (for example) their cat has an “emergency” – even if this cat doesn’t actually exist!

A good Japanese friend of mine once confided to me after having many deep conversations that, in fact, the relentless politeness of Japan can function as a sub-stitute for having faith. As he saw things, Japanese politeness creates boundaries and keeps others at a distance. But this has limits. The emotions pushed aside when trying to only be polite must come out somehow, he reported. There is a great dilemma in the Japanese mind, he said, be-cause when they do these things they find it difficult to trust others.

At my Japanese workplace, anytime someone leaves, they must state a phrase which means “please forgive me because

I ONCE SAT ON A FLIGHT next to a mid-dle-aged Japanese couple who were abso-lutely silent for the first few hours. They didn’t say anything, not even to each oth-er. Neither slept, watched movies or lis-tened to music. In fact, it wasn’t until the attendants came to offer meals to passen-gers – again, several hours into the flight – that I first heard their voices. Two soft, respectful requests for an alcoholic bever-age. After this quasi-Lenten experience, the couple tapped their drinks together and said “cheers” to one another in Japa-nese. The barriers were down, apparently. The couple proceeded to speak with (rel-ative) confidence and frequency, notice-ably more than most others around them. I wondered about this.

Indeed, after talking with some of my Japanese friends about it, the fog cleared. As it turns out, there is actually a phrase in Japanese that combines the words “drink” and “communication,” nomunication. The

News

Geoffrey Hughes

Geoffrey has been teaching English for three years in Northern Japan, where he currently lives with his wife and daughter. He eventually plans to start his own school in Japan.

A DIFFICULT GOSPEL

Cultural politeness makes it hard to build trust in Japan. Geoffrey Hughes


Review

A WRINKLE IN TIMEDirector: Ava DuVernayDisney, 2018

colour,” and encounter a disem-bodied force of evil known only as IT.

At first, this journey only makes Meg feel more abandoned – cast adrift in a dark universe that is bigger and colder than she could have ever imagined. Yet Mrs. Which, echoing Psalm 139:14, points out that consider-ing all of the choices and events that led to the making of Meg, “just the way you are,” her very existence amidst this vastness is something of a miracle. Not long after this conversation, a seer of sorts (Zach Galifianakis) on another planet tells Meg she is “precious.” Together, these oth-erworldly figures put Meg in the psalmist’s context, affirming that she is “fearfully and wonderfully made.”

Better than the dialogue, how-ever, is the way the filmmakers envision this sense of being be-loved. (Spoilers ahead.) A Wrin-kle in Time is often discussed as an unfilmable book, given L’En-gle’s expansive imagination, yet aside from a few CGI-heavy mis-steps, DuVernay and her team manage to evoke its sense of end-less wonder. In one scene, Meg is trapped in a strange white room, unable to see a way out. But then she dons a pair of glasses given to her by Mrs. Who and suddenly the other dimensions at work in

the space appear, like blueprints. It’s an echo of her father’s words – that love exists even when you can’t feel it. And, indeed, the “in-visible” staircase she discovers leads her to him.

FREEDBy this point, Meg is beginning to understand not only that she is indeed loved, but that she’s loved exactly as she is. It’s here that the movie offers another gospel inflection, a reminder that Christ loved us while we were still sin-ners. In her face-off with IT, at which point the evil entity has in-fected the mind of Charles Wal-lace and is using him against her, Meg gets the upper hand by re-minding her brother that he loves her, even though she has faults that annoy him.

Of course, even when we ex-perience the love of others, we can still hate ourselves. Teased at school for her strange family, nerdy demeanor and kinky hair, Meg must also learn to ignore such derision and love herself. In an attempt to further intimidate her, IT creates a doppelganger of the “perfect” Meg, with more stylish clothes and straightened hair. It’s only after rejecting that false version of herself that Meg, and her family, are free.

This freedom is captured in what is perhaps the movie’s loveliest image, as Meg “tess-ers” back to Earth. Previous trips have been painful and frighten-ing – captured in quick, claus-trophobic images of Meg’s face covered by a fabric in dark space – but here we see her entire body floating slowly through an amber expanse. Ribbons of light caress her limbs, seemingly guiding her forward, from one to the other.

During this climactic mo-ment, A Wrinkle in Time offers an image of the perfect love that John writes about in his letter. In her rejection of IT, Meg literal-ly enacts a love that “drives out fear.” In the aftermath, buoyed by the assurance that she was in-deed first loved – both across the universe and the expanse of time – Meg can now love as well.

A WRINKLE IN TIME AND OTHERWORLDLY LOVEJosh Larsen

A WRINKLE IN TIME OPENS with a scene of warm, enveloping love before plunging into a harrowing story in which that love disappears. Playfully experimenting with her scientist father in his home labora-tory, a little girl learns she is about to have a baby brother. Her father assures her that although their family will change, their love for each other will not. “Love is always there,” he says, “even if you don’t feel it.”

Four years later, after the girl’s father (Chris Pine) has mysteriously disappeared, she is struggling to believe those words. Now 14, Meg (Storm Reid) has come to adore her younger brother, Charles Wallace (Deric McCabe), and sympathizes with her mourning mother (Gugu Mbatha-Raw). But when it comes to her father, she feels only confu-sion, anger and abandonment. The love has gone.

In adapting Madeleine L’Engle’s young-adult novel, screenwriters Jennifer Lee and Jeff Stockwell, along with director Ava DuVernay, emphasize themes of personal empowerment and self-actualization. (Did I mention that Oprah Winfrey has a supporting part?) Yet there are deeper implications to the story as well. L’Engle herself was a Christian, after all, and her book has long been considered a metaphor for spiritual struggle. And so even as Meg represents insecure teen-agers, she also stands in for anyone who has felt unloved, forgotten and unwanted – only to then be met by the persistent, mysterious, never-failing love of God.

BELOVEDAlthough the movie begins with a quaint, domestic scene, it quickly becomes cosmic. Visited by three strange beings – Mrs. Who, Mrs. Whatsit and Mrs. Which (the latter of whom is played by Oprah) – Meg is sent on an adventure to find her father, with her brother Charles Wallace and a friend (Levi Miller) tagging along. Traveling through space and time – “tessering,” in the movie’s language – they visit previously unknown planets, meet sentient flowers who “speak

Josh Larsen

Josh is editor of Think Christian, where this article first appeared, as well as the co-host of Filmspotting and author of Movies Are Prayers.


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BONNIE HOVIUS Bonnie Hovius went home to be with her Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, at Ritz Lutheran Villa, Mitchell, on Wednesday, April 4, 2018 in her 97th year. Boukje ‘Bonnie’ (Wierenga) Hovius was reunited with her loving husband Lijkel ‘Leo’ Hovius, who predeceased her on February 21, 2018 after 70 years of marriage.

Mother of Pat and Murray Koetsier of Harriston, and Jack and Anna Hovius of R.R.4, Listowel, and mother-in-law of John Wassenaar of Thunder Bay.Grandmother of Dave and Vicki Wassenaar of Thunder Bay, Richard and Kerry Wassenaar of Ottawa, Jim Was-sennaar of Calgary, AB, Barbara Wassenaar of Ottawa, Andrea and Tim Bootsma of Harriston, Carolyn and Keith Giesbrecht of Clive, AB, Sharon and Craig Miedema of St. George, Jeff Koetsier of Harriston, Brenda and John Brou-wer of Troy, Kevin and Samantha Koetsier of Gorrie, Cara Hovius of Toronto, Alanda and Ted Fuller of St. Mary's, Jason Hovius of Ethel, and Heather Hovius of Listowel.Great-grandmother of Taylor, Isaac, and Heidi Wassenaar, Austin, Jordan, and Luke Bootsma, Cayden Giesbrecht, Cameron, Josiah, and Zachary Miedema, Faith, Cor, No-elle, and Annie Brouwer, Leo and Rowan Koetsier, and Aaron and Caleb Fuller.

Survived also by her sister Marguerite Dykman of Surrey, B.C., one brother-in-law, and three sisters-in-law. Predeceased by her daughter Shirley Wassenaar, infant sister Menke Wierenga, brothers Minze, Harm, Hendrick, Jacob, and Berend Wierenga, sisters Tine van Dalen, and Menke van Gelder, and by three sisters-in-law and three brothers-in-law.Bonnie was born in Grootegast, in the Netherlands, and grew up in a lively and busy family with five brothers and three sisters in that same town. Although her teenage years included the depression and the tumultuous war years, in the optimism of youth she married in 1948 a young farmer, Leo (Lijkel), and they immigrated to Canada a few weeks later on a grand, new adventure. They lived in various parts of Ontario and during this time their three chil-dren were born. Their life long dream of owning a farm came true when they bought a farm in Elma near Listowel. After 21 good years on the farm they moved into town where they enjoyed their retirement for over 30 years. Last year they moved to the Ritz Lutheran Villa in Mitchell.The funeral service was held at Bethel Christian Reformed Church, Listowel on April 10th with Rev. Ralph Wigboldus officiating.Memorial donations to World Renew would be appreciated. Online condolences may be left at eatonfuneralhome.ca

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proval means. I’m so tired I don’t know what I’m thinking.

“Do you just go around helping people?”

“Sure, I’m a pastor. I was, once.” I almost remember. I’m just answering her question about what I do.

“Maybe you could pray for mom.”

“Nah, she’s doing fine. She doesn’t need any prayer” – is what I want to say just to get away.

“Hey, mom, we got a pastor here. You want to pray?”

WITHIN REACHI say to myself, “She wants a cigarette, not a prayer.” I’m not sure which one will do her the most good at this point.

They push me half-in the oth-er door, close to mom.

“How are you?” I ask in my best professional voice, knowing full-well that mom is in serious trouble and shouldn’t be on the road or in the car with the long and short women. What I really mean is, “Are you ready to die?” It’s not a cruel question. But it is something you can ask if you’re a pastor. Not many people are honest enough to talk about dy-ing with a person who is dying. Of course, I am a hypocrite, I know, so I compromise. “How are you?” I am ashamed of how lame I am.

Dying people want to talk about dying so, naturally, almost

BOB, THE WRITING COACH, wants us to compose a scene of gratitude. He says to write something that stretches us.

A scene of gratitude?Can he be serious? I’m running on about five hours of sleep in the

last five days. Monday night was 10 hours in the E.R., hoping to get Nancy’s HR to settle down below 125bpm. It’s absolutely no fun and I’m sitting on the wretched chair they provide so you will be as mis-erable as the patient, especially if you’ve had back surgery. Twice. The E.R. doc wants to admit her for a couple days, but there’s no emp-ty room in either hospital.

We drag home in time for an early breakfast but I’m too tired to eat or sleep, so I try to write about gratitude. What a disaster that was. Two minutes after I fall asleep the local pastor calls at nine to see if I want to go to lunch. No, I want to sleep. But I get up and drag myself to the pharmacy now that they are open. All morning I’m sick with fatigue.

Then Doctor Nathan’s office calls. Yeah, like we can actually get an appointment with the busiest electrophysiologist on the planet. “Yeah,” says Jill the pacemaker technician, “I got your phone message.” She knows the problem and called us directly. “I can get you in on Friday. July 37, 2020.

I just made that up, I’m so tired. It was funny at the time.Then Jill offers to skip her lunch because she knows this has been

going on for months and she’ll tell the schedulers to let us in if we can come in for an appointment right away. Who am I to disagree, so we truck on down to the electrophysiologist’s office.

I park my magnificent hypnotic-teal Scion xB – the one that looks like a toaster – in a space away from other cars, especially because two old ladies are doing something in the car two spaces over.

“Hurry up,” I suggest to my wife. “We can’t keep the pacemaker tech waiting.”

She takes my opinion under advisement, which is circumlocution for, “I’m going as fast as I can.” Her breathing is laboured just standing still.

LONG AND SHORTWe get to the big glass doors and I accidentally look back at the two women who are – and I’m not lying about this – within five feet of touching my car.

I go see what’s up with the women. Nancy is checking herself in.“What’s up?” I ask in my most interested tone. “You’re a godsend,” says the lady who’s lighting a half of a pre-used

cigarette.“Yeah,” agrees the lady who has a new long cigarette. “We’re trying

to get mom in the car.”Mom is lying on her back, half in the car and half dangling over

asphalt. Her head is in the back seat of the Corolla staring at the fabric lining. There’s a large towel beneath her and the half-cigarette lady has been trying to pull mom into the middle of the back seat so they can prop her upright and buckle her in to keep her safe.

“She’s not helping. Dementia kicked-in this morning and she’s just lying there.”

I fight my way through 90 years of tobacco and I am ashamed that I feel superior for a moment. Hypocrite, I remind myself.

“Do you want help?” I offer only because I think I should. “We’re taking a smoke break.”“Good thing you have the oxygen turned off in the back seat for your

mom.”“Yeah,” they agree. “Gotta be careful with oxygen.”“Do you want me to pull her into the car?”“Uh huh.”

Final Thoughts

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OUTSIDE THE CARDIOLOGY CLINIC

I grab the corners of the towel and pull. I practically pull her out the door on the other side – she’s not very heavy anymore.

“Legs,” cries mom.“Yeah, darlin’” offers the

whole-cigarette lady as she picks up mom’s legs and accordions them into the car.

Gravity or fate or the residue of the last solar eclipse flips mom to a nearly-upright position, gasping for air.

Mom smiles. She wants a ciga-rette, I know, but I don’t have any and the two women are fresh out.

“Gave that up,” I shrug.I stand to leave and walk back

to the office where Nancy is checking-in. She’s talking to the receptionist as best she is able.

You’d think I’d be grateful. But I’m not. I’m tired to the bone. Worn-out weary. Waiting for something better. You can’t be thankful when you’re tired, I as-sure myself.

I continue toward Nancy, but I turn around to look out the win-dow.

Long and half-long are fight-ing with the wheelchair, so I go back out the front door to help and slide it into the back of the Toyota.

“No problem,” I reply to their creative list of comments de-signed to express appreciation. “I’m a writer and I’m accus-tomed to approval.” I say this, but don’t know what literary ap-

David S. | Creative non-fiction

no one will talk with them about dying. I feel like death, I’m so tired, but I don’t tell her that. I just smile.

She stares up at me, nearly insentient, with pale blue eyes. We’re related, I know. Blue eyes mean we have a common ances-tor. Her hair is thick and looks like stainless steel.

I pray. I don’t know what I prayed. It was something about this woman and all her years and a prayer for comfort and hope. I don’t overload her with extra-neous information or burden her with silliness. I pray for comfort and peace for her soul.

I don’t know what she knows of what is happening. She has limited oxygen, but her blue eyes are tracking me like she knows me. She wants to lift her hand to touch my face. We’re that close in her car after the long and short push me in, breaking my shins at the rocker panel. That’s proba-bly why I’m crying.

She can’t reach me, but she tries. Not enough oxygen, prob-ably. Her hand settles into her lap.

She says, “Thank you.” Her blue eyes twinkle like they once did.

Editor’s note: We love featuring the work of wordsmiths in CC. You’re invited to share your cre-ativity – with anything you do by hand – with us next month!

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