posted on December 1, 2007 in News

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Students of theology and young theologians are invited by the World Council of Churches to bring their perspective to the discussion about the future of the ecumenical movement by participating in an essay competition to mark the Council's 60th anniversary.

posted on December 1, 2007 in News

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The Moderator of the United Church of Canada issued a letter to congregations calling for a commitment to outreach and serving others, and to abandon a preoccupation with declining membership.

posted on December 1, 2007 in News

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ENI — The rising popularity of religious pilgrimages stems from a modern lifestyle linked to a constant search for new experiences, according to the bishop of Tarbes and Lourdes, the site of the famous Roman Catholic pilgrimage site in France.

posted on December 1, 2007 in News

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ENI — “Although the Bible doesn't say that Jesus laughed, I think that the evangelists didn't need to write about it because he would always have been laughing,” said Rev. Nobuhisa Yamakita, chairperson of the Japan Confederation of Christian Churches, which links Roman Catholic, Anglican and Protestant denominations.

posted on December 1, 2007 in News

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ENI — The Protestant Church in the Netherlands has apologized to Pentecostals for negative attitudes held towards them in the past.

posted on December 1, 2007 in For the Journey

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Just before Christmas, as executor of my late father's will, I started the process of making application for compensation benefits for armed services veterans who were used as human guinea pigs in a top-secret chemical warfare testing program. The program went on in this country from 1941until the 1970s at two locations. As a soldier, Dad was used as a human guinea pig several times at Suffield, Alta., during the Second World War. Acknowledgement of the top-secret program was forced on our government after a class action lawsuit by victims seeking redress for illness related to the testing. Dad died in 2000 after a tragic battle with ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig's disease. It was the last of many diseases that plagued him, particularly in the last 15 years of his life. (Were they a result of the chemical testing? We will never know. In the legal world you have to surrender a lot in order to win.)

posted on December 1, 2007 in News

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ENI — Churches in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe's second largest city, have begun to supply residents with water for domestic use in an attempt to lessen the effects of shortages made worse by a struggle over control of the water supply. City authorities have imposed water-rationing measures that permit residents access to water for only a few hours every three days.

posted on December 1, 2007 in News

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John Vissers, principal of Presbyterian College and Joseph McLelland. Photo - Joel Coppieters.

Joseph C. McLelland, professor, teacher, pastor and mentor for 50 years at Presbyterian College, Montreal, was honoured by having the college library named for him in October.
The dedication ceremony was well attended by students and staff from the College as well as dignitaries from the affiliated theological seminaries. Rev. Dr. McLelland's wife of 60 years, Audrey, and several family members shared in the occasion. The evening was capped by the unveiling of a plaque and the launch of McLelland's latest book, Understanding the Faith, a collection of essays, which is the first volume of the new Presbyterian College Studies in Theology and Ministry. McLelland is the author of countless articles, theological briefs and books that grace the shelves of the library where he spent so many hours.
At the dedication ceremony, current librarian Dr. Dan Shute gave an entertaining overview of the twists and turns the library went through as it reflected the struggling growth of the College. Originally conceived by a group of local Presbyterian leaders in 1864, the College got its charter in 1865, and then in 1867 a board of directors, a temporary home in a church basement and its first donation of books — 1,000 volumes from Knox College in Toronto. In 1871, three years after getting its first professor, the College got its first building. Scottish merchant David Morrice added a wing for a library at his own expense in 1881. The College's current building with its library was completed in 1963.
The collection described by a Scottish diplomat in 1915 “as one of the finest theological libraries in Canada” has ebbed and flowed over the years. It was actually targeted to disappear as a separate entity when the College's affiliation with the McGill Faculty of Religious Studies in 1969 originally called for its then 25,000 volumes to be amalgamated into the larger collection. When the transition point arrived however, the Divinity Hall library at McGill had already absorbed the United and Diocesan Colleges' libraries and could not absorb anymore for lack of space. When Rev. Dr. William Klempa became principal of the College in 1978, he steered the library in the direction of Reformed history and theology, with a good representation of Biblical commentaries and reference works. The process has continued under the leadership of Rev. Dr. John Vissers.
As the College strives to “shape transformational church leaders” according to its current mission statement, the need for an educated clergy rooted in good theological literature old and new is crucial. Naming a library rich with historic volumes after a respected veteran professor who continues to publish cutting edge essays that make the faith relevant to a changing world is a wise step in that endeavor.

posted on December 1, 2007 in Movies

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Franceska, age 11, Westminster, Paisley, Ont.

Lauren, age 7, Westminster, Paisley.

Faith, age 8, Westminster, Paisley.

Many reviewers complained The Nativity Story was too safe and the story too simple, but that's what makes me like it so. While not an edge-of-your-seat nail-biter, (and thankfully avoiding overt brutality during the slaughter of the innocents) the quiet, relaxed atmosphere and overall tranquil pace helped create for me a world in which people were simply living and living simply, waiting for a gift that would change their lives, but working hard and praying faithfully until that day arrived.
Released last December and now available on DVD, the movie follows the life of Mary and Joseph in the year leading up to that most wonderful of births. Director Catherine Hardwicke has crafted a film that is tender, subtle and visually stirring, succeeding in portraying the normalcy of life that was forever altered when an angel appeared to Mary. For me, when Mary asks Elizabeth why God chose her, saying, “I am nothing,” the point of the film was spoken, emphasizing the “nobody” that Mary was, along with the village from whence she came, the way God chose to enter this world, and the lesson that Jesus taught again and again. Bearing that in mind, I am further struck by the great faith that young Mary displayed when she submitted herself to God's will.
Keisha Castle-Hughes, who some might recognize from Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, is mesmerizing — her plain looks, small voice, and meek demeanour are offset by passionate eyes, combining to create a character who draws you in, portraying the quiet humility yet unwavering spirit and strength that Mary surely possessed.
Castle-Hughes' performance is bolstered by Oscar Isaac who plays the honourable Joseph, Shohreh Aghdashloo as a joy-filled and faithful Elizabeth, and Ciarán Hinds whose King Herod is cold and perfectly paranoid. The trio of Magi who explain the significance of three stars that will come together and appear to align for the first time in 3,000 years on the night Jesus is born, provides comic relief — which at times seems slightly stilted, but is generally enjoyable. The one complaint is while the characters appeared authentic in their ethnicity, baby Jesus still managed to be white.
I'm not a religion scholar; nor am I a theology or history student. I can't tell you how accurate this film actually is — how the director got things right or wrong, how long it actually took to travel the 100 miles from Nazareth to Jerusalem on foot, if tween-aged Israelites would have played and laughed and goofed around with members of the opposite sex, if marriages in Nazareth happened with as little fanfare as my garbage pick-up on Tuesday mornings. But it does capture the unrest among the Israelites as they toiled under Herod's reign, the lifestyle and living conditions of the village where Jesus was born and grew up, relationship dynamics, and the hope of a people as they awaited their Saviour. The inspiring shots of the Judean hills, the crowded, bustling streets of Jerusalem, the gravel roads, stone houses and dirt floors of Nazareth, the vastness of the desert, and the mighty beauty of the temple all helped bring the story to life.
A great addition to Sunday schools, church libraries, and maybe even your personal DVD collection to be pulled out each Christmas, The Nativity Story shows us what life might have been like for Jesus' parents, and how his arrival changed their lives forever.

posted on December 1, 2007 in Contests

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Christmas Carols, new ones and some classics, written and/or performed by Record readers. Thank you to all who participated. And, you’re invited to start thinking about doing it again later this year.

posted on December 1, 2007 in One Life

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Little things confound the wise and contain God's greatest gifts. Signs of God's love surround us, yet often go unnoticed. The gift of a starry night, the smile of a stranger or the fragrance of a flower could touch your soul at just the right moment. Life is a difficult journey but people make it harder when they close their eyes to the messages God sends every day. Yet every year in Bruce Mines, a small northern Ontario village, people trudge through the snow to experience the Christmas story. People come by busloads. When I first heard about this Holy Walk, my imagination ran with it.

posted on December 1, 2007 in For the Record

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Christmas is the time when we celebrate the Prince of Peace. But few people in this world live in real peace. What are we to do about it?

posted on December 1, 2007 in Progressive Lectionary

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Lectionary reading for Christmas Eve: Luke 2:1-20

posted on December 1, 2007 in News

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Yonge Street Mission's annual Christmas market will open from Dec. 12 to Dec. 22, enabling hundreds of families to shop affordably. A 20-year-plus tradition, the Toronto mission's gymnasium will be packed with items donated for this purpose. Clients register in November to be eligible. This year, through various distribution programs, YSM will serve more than 4,000 children and adults.

posted on December 1, 2007 in News

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A new online teacher training program is available, free to Presbyterian congregations. The Opening Doors to Discipleship program is suitable for both seasoned and new teachers, can be completed in any order and at any pace. It is hoped that teachers in a congregation will take the course with their minister or a mentor from their church.

posted on December 1, 2007 in From the Moderator

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I remember the Christmas we celebrated a year after coming to Canada with my family from the Netherlands in 1951. We'd moved from a farm in Athens, just outside of Brockville, Ont., where we'd first been boarded with a couple of Dutch brothers who had sponsored us, to a big, old clapboard farmhouse which my folks had rented for our family in the village of Tincap. I'd just turned seven, and was attending Grade 1 in the one-room country schoolhouse with my sister that fall.

posted on December 1, 2007 in Features

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Lindsay Richardson, age 7, Knox, Oakville, Ont.

Philip and Richard, St. Paul's, Brampton, Ont.

Morgan Acker, age 15, Knox, Harvey, N.B.

Amiens, age 7, Knox, Oakville, Ont.

Baillie Ferguson, age 16, Homeville, N.S.

Elizabeth Munro, age 11, Armour Heights, Toronto.

Cora, Seth, Marilyn, Melinda and Joshua, St. Paul's, Brampton, Ont.

In 1843, Charles Dickens described Christmas as “a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time, the only time I know of in the long calendar of the year when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of other people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys” (A Christmas Carol).

Call it madness, call it absence of mind, call it a strange collective hysteria, call it what you will: Christmas is a time when sane people go mad and mad people become sane. It happens but once a year, and in it — or by it — an exception is made to the accustomed order of things, as if to say: “Okay folks, now we are going to do things differently for a time, so please stand by for station identification. Don't panic! We'll return to regular programming as soon as possible.”

Christmas in the West may occasion shocking greed and debauchery — but both hearts and treasuries fly open, as if by magic. The ordinarily distrustful even enter God's house upon Christmas Eve. Yes, it sometimes takes the curl out of their naturally curly hair, but people make detours from the broad road of customary life. Then, and only then, “the bird of dawning singeth all night long/ And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad/ The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike/ No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm/So hallow'd and so gracious is the time” (Hamlet).

Every child knows this. Every year, growing up, I knew exactly when Christmas began. It began with the first snowflake outside my window; first a snowflake, then a wish, then a prayer, then another snowflake — and another, and another. Not only was heaven falling to earth, but Christmas was on its way, and with it the unbidden sense of another world, so bright, so beautiful, so full of wonder. I was out of doors in a flash, leaping, dancing, running in circles, trying to catch the snow in my hands, trying to see what a snowflake looked like before it melted away. I had been stabbed, flashed even — with an irresistible lightning bolt of joy.

Yes, I grew up in Canada, where winters are cold and snow obligatory, but that's entirely beside the point. That first snowflake started a whole freight train of joy that careened wildly, magically, breathlessly, all the way to Christmas. It would just build and build and build, each succeeding day closer to The Day more magical than the last, till Christmas came. “O great mystery; O wonderful sacrament; that animals should see the new-born Lord, lying in a manger!”

And then there was the Christmas pageant at First Baptist Church — I was not yet a Presbyterian — directed with military precision by a certain Mrs. D., beloved if brutal maven of the flannelgraph whose casting calls were not noted for their flexibility, any more than her ideas about wardrobe, script, set design, or blocking. “Every Christmas it's the same; I always end up playing a shepherd,” I recall saying at the time, not long after Charles Schulz gave Shermy the self-same line. (But having attended Sunday School in the days before child-centered education, I knew how to keep my mouth shut.) Always Christmas but never Joseph. Sigh! Out came the red-checkered bathrobe.

But by the time the lights went up on pageant night and our storytelling began, that strange hush, that something, that Someone, even, came back. Suddenly I began to hear what C. S. Lewis called the “real story . . . the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

Childhood fancy? Perhaps. But it is clear that at this extraordinary time of year something hindering is removed, and by the outreaching Spirit of God a veil falls away — in a flash, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye.

“The value of story,” Lewis once wrote, “is that it takes all the things we know and restores to them the rich significance which has been hidden by 'the veil of familiarity.' The child enjoys his cold meat (otherwise dull to him) by pretending it is buffalo, just killed with his or her own bow and arrow. And the child is wise. The real meat comes back to him or her more savoury for having been dipped in a story; you might say that only then is it the real meat.” This is how the Gospels function, more so at Christmas than any other time of the year. They are a new kind of literature for a new reality, “deeper, more wonderful, more like places in a story: in a story you have never heard but very much want to know”(Lewis, The Last Battle) — a reality at once ordinary, after all, Jesus was just a carpenter from Nazareth like his father before him, right? Or was he? And if this is the case, how do we, the church, become storytellers for new ages, new peoples, new generations?

Credit for inventing the Christmas pageant goes to Francis of Assisi (1181 — 1226). Pilgrimages to Bethlehem had been underway since the fourth century, after the pagan temple Hadrian had built there (to irritate Christians) was duly removed by Constantine, though both Justin Martyr (100 — 165) and Origen (185 — 254) had already claimed to have seen the “actual manger” where Christ was born, not to mention the countless painters and iconographers who were hard at work creating images of the nativity now considered normative.

Scenes from a Walk to Bethlehem, in Pentiction, B.C. This year's event will happen Nov. 30th, Dec. 1st and 2nd.

On his way to Rome in 1223, Francis stopped in the tiny village of Greccio, about 100 kilometres east of Rome. On Christmas Eve, he found a tiny grotto in the mountains and placed a donkey, an ox, and a small group of villagers around a small free-standing crib (or crèche). The results were electrifying. “Nor was this an unfitting vision,” wrote Assisi biographer Thomas of Celano, “for in the hearts of many the child Jesus really had been forgotten, but now, by his grace and through his servant Francis, he had been brought back to life.” In the words of author John Fisher, Francis “made real what he already believed,” and the town of Greccio was never the same again. In fact Greccio has become, for many, the “new Bethlehem.”

Telling the story — the Great Story. Making real what we already believe. Bringing back to life. Recovering the unbidden sense of another world — so bright, so beautiful, so full of wonder. Christmas is not only a unique time in the life of every child, it's a unique time in the life of the church — and an unprecedented opportunity for daring and creative ministry. Call it madness, but the doors swing open, and hearts and minds of every description are suddenly willing to hear the Gospel. Let the church preach, to the greater glory of God.

The Little Church that Could

Yes, Christmas is the shining star of Western civilization. But how can one take advantage of this? What's a Presbyterian to do, when daring innovations are not exactly the hallmark of our tradition? For years I have had to tiptoe through ministry, a little tea here, a little tea there, constrained by the expectation that I work in precisely the same way one worked 60 years ago; as if the world had not changed; as if whole new generations — including my own generation — had never been born. “We'll always have retired people coming to this church,” one old-timer kept saying to me. “We're content; we're just the way we're supposed to be.” The implication? “Be quiet. Do nothing. Keep on singing the oldest hymns till the cows come home — and die — and call that 'ministry.' Community outreach? Are you kidding? It might mean touching the choir loft or moving the pulpit. It might mean an untimely end to the same old, same old. (Yawn!) So just be quiet, little boy, and do what you're told.”

As the new kid in ministry I felt like a ghost in my own parish. And meanwhile, teacup by teacup, the great slip sideways into obsolescent mediocrity went on apace.

Thank God we decided not to be ruled by the old timer! Instead, St. Andrew's, Penticton, B.C., has staged three over-the-top Walks to Bethlehem, with more to come. Out of nothing, we built an extravagant artisans' marketplace, an ancient Near Eastern food fair, a Roman garrison, a synagogue. We brought in live animals. We staged a play in the sanctuary. We offered a live music café in the fellowship hall. We took photos of the public in Palestinian garb. Yes, we moved the pulpit. Yes, we borrowed the choir loft. What happened? Something beyond our wildest expectations . . . Christmas. Larger than life, deeper than time. And St. Andrew's, Penticton, will never be the same. — CC

posted on December 1, 2007 in News

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A fire reportedly set by a local young offender who was out on bail has destroyed Knox, Cannington, Ont. The 128-year-old building in the Presbytery of Lindsay-Peterborough was set ablaze on the morning of Oct. 7. The remains of the building were demolished before the unstable walls could fall down on their own. No one was injured.

posted on December 1, 2007 in Features

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As an individual, a family or a group, youth or other, read and discuss each day's scripture, and decide on an action.

posted on December 1, 2007 in Pop Christianity

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Zahra Faiz, age 5, Gateway Community, Toronto.

If you want to read my column (hi, mom!) this month, you'll first have to do some homework. I'd like you to flip around the magazine you hold in your hands and take a look at the illustrations, from the cover to the back. I'll wait …
… Ah, you're back.
So, what do you think? What did you think of Julie Todaro's contribution on page 31? Isn't it absolutely brilliant? Right next to it is Alexa Thomson-McWilliams' artwork. There is something wonderful happening in those two drawings. These two smart 10-year-old girls have done it without a lick of ideology or superiority. They've brilliantly captured Christmas.
(Because I have to: my daughter's drawing on this page makes the same point. It is a stable scene with an angel and a reindeer hovering above, showering blessings.)
These girls have encapsulated Christmas into one image — and they aren't alone. Look at any of the illustrations. Ama Ampofo (Benediction, page 51) is of Ghanaian descent, but her imagery is completely Canadian. (Not a lot of pine forests in Ghana; of course, candy cane horsey angels are universal.) Or go to page 21: the mixed media wreath, which effortlessly blends classic iconography with a decidedly modern twist. The past, the present, yesterday, today, theology, culture — all smushed into one image.
Staying on the same page: I know ministers are overbusy this time of year, may I suggest that for one of your sermons you put Baillie Ferguson's work up on a board at the front of the sanctuary. What more is there to say? It's all there — with God (in blue) above the neo-classical scene. Or Bethany Morton's (on the cover). Bringing another baby to the manger is nothing short of brilliant. Again, another sermon.
But, have I got it wrong? Candy canes, Santa, Christmas tree and stables. Are these signs of the end times; the apocalypse comes not with a bang but with a whimper? (I have to declare my bias: I mistrust teddy bears ever since the Care Bears.) Do candy cane horsey angels diminish the manger scene? Is this the triumph of materialism over spirituality? Is the game lost?
My daughter's knowledge of theology is weak; her formal education has been limited to public school. So, when she conflates reindeer with angels, I really should take the blame. I have failed as a parent to properly instruct her. But, perhaps she's being ironic. Perhaps her drawing is a post-post-modern critique of Christmas.
Or perhaps it's a Spongian approach to Christmas, clear cutting the encrusted icons. This is what post-post-post-modernist apologetics might look like.
Or, conversely, does this iconography tell us that these children get it? That the stable is the base, is at the heart of things, and because of the stable, precisely due to the manger, there is joy in the world? That instead of the end, this is the beginning of time? The kids see things for what they are; they aren't afraid of the world, or of popular culture. They aren't afraid of Santa, aren't worried that he will gobble up their faith. They recognize that Santa is a metaphor for happiness which exists only because the manger exists.
And, isn't that just wonderful!