Click here for this month’s Called to Wonder.

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ —Ephesians 3:16-18
Photos by Connie Purvis, Alex Luyckx and James McFarlane


Three Years of Wonder
Reflections on Canada Youth, past and present.
by Tajali Hall
Rooted
A theological perspective.
by Jeffrey R. Crawford
Allusions, codes, secrets
blogging at canada youth 2009.
Taking A Gamble
And keeping our promises.
by Derek Macleod
Showing Value
It’s not about showing off.
by Heather Paton
Now What?
You’re back; you’re pumped; now what should you do?
by Reuben St. Louis

Christine Walsh

Christina Gillard
Three Years of Wonder
As I walked in to worship three years ago, all I could feel was excitement and anticipation for what was to come over the next five days. Then more than 500 youth started to sing, the cross at centre stage was illuminated, and my emotions changed instantly. I have had some wonderful spiritual experiences at Christian youth and leadership conferences throughout my life, but I can honestly say that I had never had the blessing of a single moment—of faith, of humility, of peace—like I experienced at worship that night. It was the spiritual encounter that would set the tone for the rest of my CY06 experience—and for the next several years of my life.
Canada Youth is unique in that it transforms a university campus into one big church. Because the conference track participants are required to stay on campus at all times during the event, CY becomes very much like its own society, with no influence from the outside world. It is very easy to feel a sense of fellowship—to forge and maintain deeply personal relationships with other youth there. It has been three years since I last attended CY, but I still talk to several of the people from my small group at CY06, and it was with great excitement that we even planned a mini-reunion of our 2006 group to occur this year at CY09. Even more important than the relationships built with people, however, was my relationship with God, which was strengthened greatly through CY. I came home with renewed faith and a heart full of love for my Lord and Saviour like I had never experienced before.
The effects of Canada Youth did not end for me when I returned home. A group of eight of us from various congregations throughout Calgary decided we wanted to take what we’d learned at CY and serve others in some form of ministry. With that goal in mind, we formed the youth worship band Blind Vision. For the next two years we played at churches and special events throughout Calgary and the surrounding area, including the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, and our presbytery’s annual fall youth retreat.
Many people have heard that Canada Youth is a time of fun, laughter and friendship for young people from Presbyterian churches across the country. What they may not realize, however, is that it can also be one of the most powerful spiritual experiences of a youth’s life.
To the youth and young adults who have come home fresh from a “mountaintop” experience at CY09: don’t let that energy for God fade just because the event is over. Share that passion with your congregations, whether it is through a photo slideshow, a worship band, a youth service, or any other creative outlet that comes to mind.
Rooted

Young people are searching for identity, belonging and relationships; however, for the most part, they seem not to be doing this searching in the context of community that we commonly call “church.” Or at least not “church” as we know it. Therefore, in response to this challenge, the Canada Youth 2009 theme of Rooted emerged, both as a concept that could help us claim our faith in God, exploring the roots of who we are, and as a concept that could move our faith and the church forward. A young person’s ability to seek understanding about life in Christ and their journey with God was a fundamental principle throughout the week. The sense that God had laid a claim upon our lives: our living, our moving, our being and even our dying, was a drastically important reality for the participants who function in a strange world that is ever-morphing and changing, hour to hour, minute to minute and second to second.
The theme Rooted allowed us to think about faith in this current context, and what the future of faith might look like, strengthened by our understanding of the ways in which we have been rooted and grounded in love. The daily themes that we journeyed through during our time together in community were as follows:
We began with God who created the world and humanity in love and called them “good.” Believing that we are rooted in the Creator, we explored the initiative that God takes to be with us and for us from the beginning. Unpacking the stories of the creation of the world and humanity, we wrestled to understand what it means to be formed from the dust of the earth in a garden and named children of God. We were challenged to understand both who and whose we are.
Life is a journey with many twists and turns, some that shock and confuse us. Despite our best efforts to live up to the high calling of God in Christ Jesus, we often fall short and feel distant from God. At times we find ourselves and our communities Up-Rooted and we are left feeling separated from each other and from God. We sought to confront the realities of the world in which we live, a world that groans and yearns ever more frequently and loudly for re-creation.
Despite our moments of feeling out of place and separated from the Creator, God is at work. We explored the story of Mary, who finds herself weeping many tears and speaking with a gardener, who is God. We celebrated God’s work of love through Christ, who breaks into human history and transforms a tree of death into a Tree of Life. We celebrated the power that God, as Redeemer, has to transform, not only humanity, but also the whole created order.
Claiming the life and hope that we find in the resurrection, we are Re-Rooted. We shared in the reality that we are called and gifted to be the faithful community of believers. We explored what it means to be the church and how this affects and shapes our daily life and faith. What does it mean to be the family of God in our current world? How do we live a life of authentic faith amidst deep questions and doubts? Who are we called to be as the church?
In order to celebrate our calling to act as the church in the world, we are charged to Branch Out. We attempted to explore the realities of a God who creates a new heaven and a new earth; making all things new. Indeed the end is only the beginning of God’s work, so we are called to go forth out into the world to share that good news!
What an exciting journey we embarked upon as the people of God! As we celebrated the roots of our history, tended to the garden in the present and planted the seeds of hope for the future, we are thankful that we have a God who journeys with us. We are confident that God is still walking in the gardens of life and know that God “is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine.” Thanks be to God!
Allusions, codes, secrets

Sarah Travis

Dustyn Frankcom
In the beginning, we travelled by bus for three hours singing the same five praise songs over and over again the entire ride. By the end of a road trip like that, you’re singing Days Of Elijah in your sleep … and tapping your feet … and the bruises from clapping your hands so long are still throbbing to the beat.
In the beginning the Lord said, “Let there be light.” But when I got to Brock University and approached the room I had been told was the place to worship, I was positive I was in the wrong place. Purple and blue light was streaming into the hall. I could hear music and noise.—Christina Gillard
★ ★ ★
Just as the doors to worship were supposed to open, one of the leaders popped his head out into the crowd that had gathered. And he said it would be another 15 minutes, disappointing the crowd. It was getting really hot in that area by this point. But then, through the dull roar of various conversations came the sounds of a familiar song. Someone had started singing a praise song. Soon other voices started joining in, and then almost everyone close to the doors was singing. Impromptu worship is often the best kind: unplanned, Spirit-led, good.—Alex Luyckx
“When you look up at the sky tonight and see a star explode, remember that all that matter doesn’t just cease to exist,” said Rev. Derek Macleod. “All the blood and matter that makes you up used to be a star. Did you know that? Maybe that’s why our hearts bound when we look up at the sky.
“So CY09, tonight look up at the stars. Look in the mirror. Look at someone new. And not this week, but in the weeks to come, look at someone you hate. And make a bold statement of faith: ‘It is good.’”—Connie Purvis
★ ★ ★
Tuesday we found our small groups, and asked each other questions, played name games, and discussed how we felt about last night’s service. We also discussed the aspect of “the Beginning” but sadly many of the questions were answered with silence. A few others and I tried to get some conversation going, and failed, and quickly gave up. (No one wants to seem like the over eager go-getter.)—Christina
★ ★ ★
Jess Powers, in her drama last night asked us, do you know where you came from? Do you know where you are going? There is no map of life for us to follow, we blindly look toward the future, praying, hoping and trying for good things. Do we ever really know what path of life we will walk down? Will it be a leisurely stroll, or a quick paced race? Only time will tell, and our faith will guide us.—Leila Paugh
★ ★ ★
Everywhere there is an allusion, a code, a secret to be found. Songs about heartbreak aren’t just songs, they are the pain. A song about secrets isn’t just a song, it’s a secret unto itself. It showed that many of the things we fear are the same as those of the person sitting next to us. We all fear failure because it is inevitable. We fear disappointing our parents because we all have a deep desire to make them proud. The biggest secret of all is that none of us are alone.—Christina
★ ★ ★

Brenden Sheratt
“I have seen the risen Lord.” A powerful statement from Sarah Travis as she boldly stood at the front of worship and told us her heartbreaking story. Her son Sam died on his third birthday after three liver transplants. And when she questioned God heading home after Sam’s death, God told her, “I too have lost a son.” Her story then turned empowering.
Sarah focused on what to do next. The family decided to donate to a hospital in Jobat, India, where the need is great. She turned tragedy into beauty. I have seen the risen Lord. I see his work through Sarah.—Leila
★ ★ ★
Sarah Travis came up to me at lunch today and asked me, with a joking smile on her face, what’s the deal with me Twittering during her sermon? I told her I thought it brought people from around the world into her sermon. She smiled and said to keep doing it.—Brenden Sherratt
★ ★ ★
Today was a sad day, but also a happy day. Sad, because everyone had to leave their newly-found friends. Happy because they have the chance to keep in touch with them via e-mail and/or phone and/or Facebook.—Dustyn Frankcom
★ ★ ★
CY had its ups, its downs, its turn-arounds, but I will not forget the lessons it has taught me. To love. And to inspire, and to grow through the roots in my Lord and my Saviour. Praise my God because I know now that through Him I can be the change I wish to see in the world. And through His love, we are all able.
So I say farewell to CY.
In hopes that I can reach the next rung, and grow a new branch. At CY12.—Christina
All of these blogs can be found here
A tweet from the service: There is nothing we can do to make God love us more or less … We don’t have to do anything to keep His love … It just is. —Brenden
Taking A Gamble
“We are fools for Christ,” Paul writes to the community in Corinth, which I understand as a reference to the leaps of faith we are called to take and the risks we are asked to make when following Christ and loving others in His name. This great gamble is especially evident in our ministry with youth.
It starts at the font (as all things do in this Christian life of ours) when the child is brought to the family tub to be washed and welcomed. Every baptismal liturgy contains what is referred to us as the Declaration and Welcome which will either be a passage from scripture: “See what love God has given us that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are,” (1 John 3:1); or words inspired by scripture: “According to Christ’s appointment this child is now called to confess the faith of Christ crucified and risen and to remain his faithful servant all the days of their life.”
Those are quite the expectations to have for someone usually still in diapers. Doesn’t it strike you as a rather audacious act for us, frail flesh that we all are, to say to a young brother or sister in Christ: God loves you and child, you belong to God through Christ and are a member of Christ’s church and from this day forward there will always be a place for you in this family, regardless of your state or condition? What standards! I guess God will let just about anybody in.
And have you ever heard anyone say no, when the minister asks the congregation, “As members of the church of Jesus Christ do you promise to guide and nurture this child by word and deed, with love and in prayer, encouraging her to follow the way of Christ?” Has anyone ever interrupted the proceedings to have their dissent recorded? (This is a rhetorical question, by the way, as I don’t want anyone to write in to say they have heard of this because that would be utterly depressing and worthy of rebuke.) I have never heard it happen.
Yet, this fall, someone is going to stand in front of your congregation and say, “Well everybody, we are still short of church school teachers and our youth group is fundraising again so they can go to P.Y.P.S. and please note that all future youth group events will be held in the basement so they don’t again spill chips on the fellowship hall carpet.”
But didn’t we make promises? Didn’t we all promise to love and encourage one another? Didn’t we promise to rip up the flowerbed and build a basketball court if that meant young people might hang around a little more and feel that they had a place at church? Didn’t we promise to at least get to know their names? Didn’t we promise to look out for them and provide the best possible home for them so that they might grow in faith, hope and love? Didn’t we promise to try and do our best for them? Think of how important this is. Where else will our youth learn to sing? Serve? Listen? Share? Forgive? Where else will they learn how to pray? Where else will they hear our sacred story? The church community is one of those rare places in society now where they are not asked to be consumers. (“Burning but not consumed” would be a bad pun but a good theological point here.)
What a special place the church can be for youth. Yes, it is a gamble as we don’t know what will happen, or if it will matter to them or anyone that we take our responsibilities seriously and joyously, but it is a bet we ought to be willing to make.
Imagine the possibilities! Every child of God is priceless. Do the spiritual math: if your church school has 20 youth, 10 youth, one youth—you have an abundance of stories, ideas, dreams, faith, questions and talent. You also have countless opportunities to nurture and challenge them, learn and grow with them, guide and encourage them by what you do and by who you are. You can bless the youth in your life and make a difference to them. Just ask Russell, Jim, Birch, Graham, Harold and Pat, elders and teachers in my home church who were more than patient and faithful with at least one of their charges.
This summer the Canada Youth event was a great way for our church to make good on its baptismal promises. Now we as congregations and families pick up that burden again and delight to raise our youth in the knowledge that God’s world is still good and that they are valued members of it.
Showing Value

Jasmine Chung, guest from Taiwan
As culture at large shifts away from Christendom, an event like Canada Youth is energizing and inspiring for all who are a part of it. It emanates the light of the present through compelling worship and fun activities. It establishes hope for the future through community outreach and connections with passionate people of faith. And its biblical and theological roots keep us connected to our Presbyterian heritage.
What a wonderful opportunity for international visitors to experience one of the biggest parties in our church! Hosting international guests isn’t just a way to show off how much fun we can have together or how lively our youth are. It’s an important statement about our values. By hosting global guests, we show that we’re not only dedicated to sending people to help in our partner countries, but to bringing people to help us as well. We show that we value intercultural dialogue. We also demonstrate our belief in ecumenism and mutuality. New things will be offered and learned from both our international and Canadian participants.
Though we cannot guarantee what our guests from Taiwan, India, and Hungary took away from the conference, we can hope that they experienced hospitality, Presbyterian passion for community and Canadian kindness. We can continue to do our best to be open to their insights and value their presence so we can all feel included in the body of Christ.
Now What?

There was amazing energy, lively music and enthusiasm about life, church and God at Canada Youth 2009. It was a proverbial mountain top experience. But, eventually, you have to go home.
So … how do you take that experience back with you? How do you spread its message?
Share the Story
There are literally hundreds of funny anecdotes, spiritual moments and heart-changing stories that youth experience at CY. And Sunday morning is a great time to hear them. Why not share a story each week for a month? Better yet, invite a few folks from your church to a local coffee shop and let them listen for how God weaved through a week at CY and continues to be present in your lives. Jesus loved to share truth through stories. I wonder what truth you have to share?
Stay Connected
You know all those friends you met at CY? When was the last time you talked to them? They are as close as a click on your Facebook page. Why not tell them that you’re thinking of them and you haven’t forgotten to pray for the craziness in their life? It’s those connections that will sustain you through the desert times in your faith journey. And don’t forget about all those people you met from your local area. Wouldn’t it be great to get a few youth groups together and reminisce? You could sing a few choruses of those songs you’ve had stuck in your head all summer and talk about doing a mission trip together in 2010. Don’t let the community that formed at CY fade into nothing.
Start Something New
Maybe you’re hyped to try out some of the drama and music you saw in worship. Or maybe you picked up a book in the Book Room that you want everyone in your church to read. Or maybe one of the speakers inspired you to change the direction of your youth ministry. What are you waiting for? Talk to your minister, Christian education director or youth leader and get started! CY is meant to inspire action when you get home. Don’t think you are doomed to the same-old-same-old.
Support the Youth
Congregations who sent participants, I hope you have been able to give your folks a warm welcome home. You can help enable your youth so that this experience isn’t just for them, but becomes part of the congregation as a whole. We truly recognize that CY is only a week; real spiritual growth happens in a congregation that loves their youth and leaders, listens to them and supports them.
God bless as you strive to keep the CY energy alive in your home churches!
Globe and Mail columnist Jeffrey Simpson famously—at least in our circle—described Stéphane Dion as a Presbyterian in December 2006, when Dion won the top job for the Liberals. For those who do not have this as a framed poster in their living rooms here’s the quotation: “He’s Presbyterian, politically speaking—unadorned, slightly severe, utterly determined, without pretence, searching for self-improvement, anchored in his convictions.”
The Rayner Prize challenge this year was to think about Simpson’s dour and dogged cliché and update it with a fuller and rounder definition of what it means to be Presbyterian.
The prize is housed at Armour Heights, Toronto, and is named after Rev. Dr. DeCourcey Rayner, the iconic editor of the Presbyterian Record from 1958-1977. Invitations to participate were sent to all students at the church’s three theological colleges. The purpose of the prize is to encourage theological students to write in a more accessible style for a general interest audience. Record staff judge the entrants; and Armour Heights pays out a kind gift in Rayner’s name to the winner(s). Since there were only two entrants this year, and both more than worthy, Armour Heights is generously doubling its usual contribution, with a prize to each.
It was an honour for me to participate—thank you Armour Heights. And to the two participants: you made me smile.
Andrew Faiz
Managing Editor
Presbyterian Record
—
Take It To The Heart
Embrace the clichés, for they are true.
by Katherine Burgess
Truly Presbyterian
Putting words in our mouths.
Heather Anderson
Take It To The Heart

Clichés become clichés for a reason. The expression is overused to the point of becoming a caricature, but that does not mean there is no truth in it. And, if there is truth in it, there may be no need to update it.
Unadorned. In this age of plastic surgery, liposuction, and all kinds of artificial enhancements, what is wrong with being unadorned? If one is unadorned, it may be assumed that one is not hiding anything, that—to use another cliché—what you see is what you get. In this case, it is more than acceptable to judge a book by its cover, because there are no surprises contained within.
Slightly severe. Well, this one could probably use a little revision. Presbyterians I know aren’t severe. In fact, most of them know how to party with the best. But we also know when not to party, when to get down to work. We know, with Ecclesiastes, that to everything there is a season. For us, there is a time to be severe and a time not to be severe. Scrap the revision. Slightly severe is not a bad way to be described.
Utterly determined. And this is supposed to be a bad thing? This is supposed to be an impression Presbyterians want to change? It was determination which led to the Presbyterian Church coming about in the first place, and it was determination which kept one third of all Canadian Presbyterians out of union in 1925. It will be determination which will bring the PCC well into the 21st century.
Without pretence. If Presbyterians are unadorned, then it follows that they would be without pretence. Adornment hints at covering flaws, which is the same as presenting a façade to the world, of pretending to be something one is not. This is, then, another quality which does not require updating.
Searching for self-improvement. The day anyone stops improving is usually the day that the person meets God face to face. So far, the cliché seems to be accurate.
Anchored in his convictions. Anchoring is a fact of life for a committed Christian, which is what Presbyterians are supposed to be. In this post-post-modern, secular world, there is nothing bad about being anchored.
All of the qualities mentioned in Jeffrey Simpson’s article are good qualities, ones which will serve the church well for the next 100 years.
Maybe instead of revamping this description of a typical Presbyterian, we need to make sure that it does apply to the typical Presbyterian. Maybe it is time for us to stand up and be counted, as we were counted in 1925. It is our determination which has brought us this far, and it is our determination—along with our faith—which will continue to bring us further. John Calvin was anchored in his convictions, as was Martin Luther, as are the Presbyterian theologians of today.
If anything, the Presbyterian in the pew—or, more often these days, not in the pew—should take Simpson’s definition of a Presbyterian to heart and use this to rebuild the church. Cliché? Maybe, to someone who is not a Presbyterian. To someone who is a Presbyterian, it is an accurate definition. Thank you, Jeffrey Simpson, for explaining who we are at the start of this new millennium.
Truly Presbyterian

Although it doesn’t look like the portrait of a revolutionary, the painting hanging in the student lounge of the Presbyterian College in Montreal is the subject of not infrequent commentary, mostly of the affectionately jocular kind. John Calvin, as he must have appeared within minutes of completing The Institutes, is bowed over and haggard, hound dog eyes starring languidly off into the shadows. From his bonnet to his beard, Calvin bears more resemblance to cracking concrete than to someone leading the clerical charge in a changing world.
The same could be said for the picture of Stéphane Dion painted by the Quebec press during his campaign for Liberal Party leader and later, for prime minister. But Dion’s story, like Calvin’s, reveals a defiantly countercultural character. Globe and Mail columnist Jeffery Simpson noticed this and portrayed Dion as a Christ figure in 2006, going so far as to call him a political Presbyterian in his article. Should Presbyterians be proud of the reference or consider it a call to change?
The answer may depend on your opinion of Dion. But the point is that the continued presence of the word Presbyterian in the Canadian vocabulary signifies an opportunity and a responsibility to remind ourselves and others of the pre-eminence of the Word in our common context. Presbyterian and indeed Reformed reverence for the Reformation may have made the historic happening into a petrified point of pride rather than a rite of passage for every generation of Christ’s disciples.
As part of the Reformed tradition, Presbyterians have inherited the Calvinist handle, for better or worse. Ministry opportunities in Quebec and France have shown me that within former Christendom, Calvinists are infamous for their apathy. If we are not saved by our works, then why bother doing anything good? On the other hand, Calvinism and the Protestant work ethic have been convicted, rightly or wrongly, of all the busybody crimes of capitalism, including environmental destruction and sweat shop injustice. A recent conversation with a Bulgarian university student in Paris showed me that Canada’s Presbyterian roots have made a lasting impression—she was convinced that in contrast to the glorification of suffering she finds in her Orthodox tradition, the Protestant work ethic was responsible for our (relatively) comfortable position during the current economic crisis.
If the reverse of Simpson’s article is also true, then Presbyterians in Canada are liberals, extending salvation to all creation and looking beyond personal morality to see freedom in Christ as inclusive of social justice. But what Simpson meant when he called Dion a Presbyterian was that he was “unadorned, slightly severe, utterly determined, without pretence, searching for self improvement” and “anchored in convictions”. In short, Dion is the political incarnation of the Protestant work ethic, period. The lack of humanity in the description is disturbing and corresponds to the press’ accusation that Dion does not communicate well. We are, after all, meant to incarnate Jesus, the Christ, not only as he was at his woodworking bench, but in his daily life and ministry with all kinds of people.
Contrary to the spirit of the Reformation, Calvinists have been known to use the sovereignty of God as a justification for indifference and inaction rather than as the impetus for obedience. Calvin was part of a movement to interpret and articulate the freedom of Christ for his generation. Rather than endorse the silence often justified by his name, Calvin would more likely encourage conversations and even campaigns that would dare to propose repentance and faith in Christ’s incarnation, death and resurrection as core elements of the authentic humanity—reconciliation with God and others. If Presbyterians can learn to publically communicate the source of their liberal ethics, they can also offer a vision for environmental and social reconciliation in Canada.
Perhaps Presbyterian pride at Simpson’s description of Dion should be checked by a small shudder, as Calvin would probably shudder to hear about his eponymous theology. If our denomination has come to be equated with a static character, however admirable, then we fall short of representing Jesus’ dynamic and articulate ministry. For a sense of what is truly and particularly Presbyterian, one could consider the portrait of another John that hangs next to Calvin’s on the wall of PC, Montreal. It has been posited by author Arthur Herman that Knox’s reformation in Scotland put that country in a position to prosper and bless the entire world at the dawn of the modern era. John Knox was so certain that his words would have an impact that a guard with a drawn sword was stationed in front of his pulpit at St. Giles Cathedral every time he preached!
“And it’s here we stand with memories made,
Feelings of warmth I never want to fade.
The laughs we shared,
The pranks we played.
With you by my side, summer never goes away.”
—Here We Stand by Colin Gillard, 14, of Mount Brydges, Ont.

Colin Gillard, with guitar, and friends atop a sculpture of a tree and roots attached to a rock on the Brock University campus in St. Catharines, Ont.
For Eager Beavers

illustration by Barry Falls / Heart Agency
“Aaahhh! We’ve been logged!”
“Huh? What are you talking about?” asked Linda, as she bolted out of the bedroom to stand beside me in front of our picture window. We were both staring and twisting fists into our eye sockets, trying to wring out the residue of sleep.
“Those dang beavers moved in on us last night and commenced clear-cutting our lot,” I said. Three large aspens that we had nursed from wee saplings lay neatly fallen across our lawn. When I threw on my boots and mackinaw and went to survey the damage, I found the beavers had also felled and limbed a half-dozen smaller aspens on the border of our lot that we share with a neighbour to the north. Further surveying revealed two large weeping willows on the lot boundary that we share with a neighbour to the south. They had been felled, bucked, skidded, and floated across the lake to where the beaver colony lived. There was nothing left of the willows but two large pointy stumps and a pile of wood chips. In addition to all of the cutting, the beavers had constructed three large skid roads from their logging area across our lot to the lake. In forest engineering lingo, we had been developed. The beaver’s intentions were clear.
“Must have been a lot of them show up for work last night,” Linda said. “What are we going to do? We can’t let them clear-cut every aspen, birch, and willow tree from our lot. We have been babying our trees since we moved here 20 years ago.”
“Well, the last time we had beavers move in on us I put stove pipes around all our trees to discourage them,” I said.
“Yeah, but that was almost 20 years ago and our grove of trees is twice the size now,” said Linda. “A 10-inch stovepipe won’t come close to fitting any of our trees, and you know chicken wire doesn’t work.”
“Yeah, they just cut through chicken wire like they own pliers,” I said. “I guess we’ll have to conjure up another form of discouragement.” I could feel a deviant smile beginning to curl the corner of my lip. “Heh, heh, heh: I love a good contest with Mother Nature or one of her agents,” I muttered.
September in the Cariboo is what we call Indian summer. It brings bright cool days stuffed so full of autumn colours that your eyes almost feel assaulted. The nights are also clear, cold, and bright with moonlight. And so, every evening at dusk, the beavers would sail across the lake in the bright moonlight and descend upon our lakefront lot. I started my discouragement campaign by waiting for them in the swamp-birch brush along the shore. When they would come in to land, I would jump out and holler like a banshee. The landing beaver would swap ends, crash dive, and smash the water loudly with its tail. It didn’t take long and the beaver would be attempting a landing at another point along the beachhead.
After a couple of nights of doing this and failing miserably to discourage the beavers, they began to get aggressive. I would stand on the dock and they would swim up to within a half-dozen feet of me and smash the water with their tails. I would yell and jump back and they would come and do it again, trying to drive me away from the shore. I would shine a bright flashlight right in their beady little eyes and they would swim right up to the light. You could literally see the hostility in their eyes before they would dive and smash the water with their tails to drive me back. Their aggression got my aggression going. Hurled rocks were soon involved, and eventually a pellet gun. Neither worked. I smacked one large fella right in the head with a stone and he dove. I screamed in triumph: “That’ll teach you to fool with me, you little bucked-tooth logging maniac.” I turned to stomp victoriously off the dock. I looked over my shoulder to see the same beaver swimming with determined purpose straight past the end of the dock, heading for one of his skid trails on the beachhead.
About a week into the beaver battle, our son was leaving for his graveyard shift at the sawmill at around 10 p.m., and he nearly tripped over a huge beaver right up beside the driveway where our vehicles were parked. It was a dominant adult and it was obviously cruising for new timber prospects for his logging crew. The large aspens that line our driveway would easily destroy a vehicle if they were felled on one, so we reluctantly called the game department, which lined up a trapper for us. That was the way our last beaver battle ended too, but not before they dammed a local creek and took out the railway tracks, derailing a train just across the lake.
You have heard it said: “As eager as a beaver.” Well, I’ve learned that beavers are all of that and they are persistent too, not to mention aggressive. Once their sights are set on a project they will throw themselves at it until either “it” or “they” are done. They are incredible animals, but judgment does not seem to be their long suit. They are task-driven to the extreme, kinda like me.
I think most adults who graced my life when I was growing up taught me that I should strive to be an “eager beaver.” What popped out of the mould of childhood development was an extremely task-oriented and driven person in the likes of me. And I can be just about as persistent and aggressive as a beaver too (not to mention obnoxious). For the main part, being task-driven has stood me in good stead, making me a likable person to parishioner and employer alike. God only knows, I love to be liked. But like the beavers in my life, sometimes my judgment is lacking and I get seriously trapped.
Recently I have been enjoying the portion of the Psalter that is classified as the Songs of Assent (120-134). One of these songs puts it so simply: “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labour in vain. Unless the Lord guards the city, the guard keeps watch in vain. It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for He gives sleep to His beloved” (127:1-2).
What I think I need to bring to the pond in which I live and work is a little Psalm 127 judgment. It’s not what I get done that is so important; it is whose work it is. As a task-driven person, I often forget to inquire of God concerning the task. At best, I get beavering away at a project, inviting God to make my agenda His agenda. The Psalmist labels that approach to life and work as vanity. And when I get seriously trapped out, in the long arm of the night, I know that it is … that being task-driven is very often being driven by my own vanity.
Spirit of Joy
I have already learned that many unique blessings accompany my new role as Moderator within the Presbyterian Church. One such blessing came this July as I attended Canada Youth 2009 at Brock University, St. Catharines, Ont. It was an exhilarating privilege.
There is worrisome talk these days about the irrelevance of the church and our pending demise. However, you would never think that after spending time at CY09. It renewed my faith in the future of our youth and youth ministry. More than that, it gave me renewed hope for the future of the Presbyterian Church. Let me explain.
At CY09 I saw passion—for God, for spiritual life, for meaningful worship with contemporary and traditional music, for missions and for fun. Yes, Presbyterians can have fun while they grow deeper in God and sink their roots into the love and knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. Rooted was the theme of Canada Youth.
At CY I discovered that support for the PCC’s youth ministry comes from the highest levels. Presbyterians Sharing is a major financial supporter. The general secretary of the Life and Mission Agency, as well as the principal clerk of the General Assembly participated in this five day conference. Some of the most passion-ate and gifted preachers from across the denomination (Derek Macleod and Sarah Travis) and worship leader (Glen Soderholm) led daily worship. CY is a time when the best of our church give their best, ensuring the youth of today will become the church of tomorrow.
I experienced the stirring joy of seeing 21st-century Presbyterians worshipping in new ways, yet with a deep respect for the ancient hymns of our Reformed heritage. I think of the contemporary medley by the CY choir of Amazing Grace, as well as the deeply moving rendering of St. Patrick’s Breastplate by Soderholm and the praise band. Again, the best of our church giving their best to the glory of God, for the strengthening of the youth for ministry now!
CY showed me that signs of new life, a new spirit of joyful worship, and passionate discipleship are present from shore to shore in the PCC. I met youth and youth ministry leaders, both clergy and lay, from every province across Canada. All share the same passion for Christ, for the future of the church, and for the lively role of today’s youth in today’s church. This passion is not restricted to CY. It comes from every corner of our denomination and will touch every congregation as the participants return to their homes.
I admit to having been concerned about the future of our church and the role of youth within it. But no more. God’s spirit is doing new things in Victoria, in Saskatoon, in St. Catharines and Sydney, N.S.
I want to be part of this new movement. I want, as never before, to be part of a church that cares enough about its youth to create something as amazing as Canada Youth. I want to be part of a church that cares for its youth with the love of Christ. A church that declares with confidence God Is Not Finished With Us Yet!
I hope and pray that you do, too!
Life, Love and Hot Dogs

On Monday morning, my wife left me. Packed up some earthly belongings, our only daughter and a credit card, then headed west for a week, leaving Jeffrey, Stephen, and me to fend for ourselves. For her this was good. She deserved a break. She deserved to surround herself with mountains and siblings and hot springs. But for me? Well … let me say that during the last few days I have developed a new theory. If you’re a theologian you may disagree with me, but here goes: I think God invented Eve mainly to help Adam find things.
Adam would be walking around saying, “Let me see … where did I put those figs?” and none of the animals would tell him. So, after God stopped laughing, He thought, this guy can do without a rib, but not without a wife. Ever since, men have been pursuing women largely because they need help finding things: “Honey, do you remember where we put the kids?”
In the last week I have visited the fridge roughly 450 times and found nothing there. Oh sure, there’s milk. There’s Parmesan cheese. There’s soya sauce. But where are the sandwiches? Where’s the lasagna? These are the things meals are made of.
Stephen ran out of socks on Tuesday, and we’re not sure where fresh ones come from. I can’t find my wife’s list of meal suggestions. Jeffrey can’t find any more shirts, so he wears the same one 24 hours a day. It has a very interesting design. This shirt can tell you what we’ve eaten for the last five days.
On Thursday we went to a baseball game and consumed our weight in hot dogs. The box told us they contained “actual meat products,” which was certainly a comfort. After the final out Jeffrey rubbed his belly and asked, “When’s Mom coming home?”
“In six more meals,” I told him. He rolled his eyes and uttered the cutest burp.
What I didn’t tell him is that, although she promised to return Sunday, she is the mother of three young children and has a husband who can’t find anything, so we may not see her until Jeffrey’s high school graduation. I also did not tell him that even as we speak she’s probably sitting in the hot springs swapping childbirth stories with her sisters and saying, “They thought I was coming home Sunday. Can you imagine? Just how insane do they think I am?” And then the mountains would echo with crazed laughter.
It’s Friday now. Earlier tonight I went to a convenience store to pick up the necessities of life: some pop, some chips, a video. Standing in line, I feel a tap on the shoulder. It’s a classmate from high school. We exchange handshakes. “How’s it going?” he asks. “Oh, man,” I say, laughing, “my wife’s gone for a week, so I’m here to pick up some health food. Life’s been a little wild lately.”
He looks down and kicks at a floor tile.
“How about you?” I ask.
“Well, not so good. My wife’s … well … she’s been gone on a more permanent basis. She left a year ago, you know ….” His voice trails away as a little girl peeks out from behind him.
“I’m sorry,” I say, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to … I’m sorry.”
Tonight I sit alone at my computer, typing these words and thinking about life. About love. About grace. You see, after I got home from the convenience store, I searched through the freezer looking for ice cream. I found some. And to my surprise I found a whole lot more. Lasagna. Homemade buns. All-beef hot dogs. My wife had put them there for us. I hadn’t found the note she left.
I guess that’s life.
Sometimes the best things we’ll ever have were there all along.
Money Matters

Anyone who has seen the budgets of any church or ministry sees the myriad expenses. If bills and salaries are not paid, churches and ministries sadly close their doors. Money matters.
So why is fundraising often treated like a bad word?
Fundraising is meant for those of us who are passionate about ministry and are looking for ways to gather support. Let’s talk about the joys (yes, joys!) of fundraising and some ideas on how to get started.
But before we discuss the joys, let’s talk about the fear. Many people cite fear as the number one reason why they don’t engage in fundraising. Fear of rejection. Fear of a fundraising campaign failing. Fear of even talking about money.
I won’t deny that these fears are very real. However, if we focus on the fear we can be paralyzed from taking action. Let’s focus on why we fundraise. Let’s focus on the good work that is enabled through fundraising. Fundraising provides resources to change lives.
We have a living example of this at Evangel Hall Mission, where I have worked as a resource developer for the past seven years. Here we serve more than 60,000 meals annually to people who otherwise would go hungry, house more than 130 people who otherwise would be homeless, and provide dental services to people who otherwise would suffer excruciating pain, just to name a few activities in our mission.
All this is possible through fundraising. Fundraising pays for staff salaries to provide the services, pays the mortgage and utilities to keep the building open and functioning, and pays many other bills.
Fundraising enables good work to happen. It provides the resources necessary to fuel the critical work done by front-line workers in ministry.
So how do you go about fundraising as a beginner or on a shoestring budget? Below are a few thoughts that can apply to campaigns with large and small goals. These are thoughts, not rules—think about them and adapt them to your own ministry. I do not have a PhD in fundraising but simply some experience in a ministry about which I am passionate.
This is by no means intended as a thesis on fundraising. It is merely a starting point to share some ideas. On that note, I leave you with this thought: Yes, being a fundraiser can be much work, but it is a work of great joy. You are raising funds to benefit the men, women, and children whose lives will be touched through your ministry. You are finding a unique way to be a blessing to others. That is a joyous and privileged role to play!
We Hardly Know You!

September 27, 2009: Pentecost
Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; 9:20-22
The Lectionary gives us this one crack at the amazing tale of Esther. Don’t be afraid to tell the whole story today!
Esther’s an embarrassment for us. (Like the Song of Solomon. God isn’t named at all.) Esther and Mordecai act out of their ethnic identity. That’s enough, apparently. If God, or at least a faithful person, rescues you—surely that means God is with you.
As mythic melodramas go, Esther’s tale rings all the bells. There’s suspense. Risk. A villain. A heroine. And a happy ending brought about by violent justice. The underdogs end up on top. The villain swings in the breeze.
Esther may not be prominent in our preaching program, but her story is in the Jewish lectionary to be read in holy season; one of the five little scrolls that are opened when Esther’s heirs remember who they are and how they are in a world that has rarely befriended them. A world that doesn’t seem to know their God. Jewish people have had lots of opportunities to live faithfully in places where their God isn’t named and doesn’t seem to be in the picture.
Esther’s happy ending is acted out at Purim, complete with the hanging of Haman.
Even when we Christians read Esther, there’s an eerie pre-echo of a 20th-century event we want to believe was unique. Couldn’t have happened in any other time. Can never happen again. Esther’s community in Susa, in the Persian Empire, even in exile, was strong. It flourished and remained in Susa after the rest of the exiles went home. Still outsiders. But the Empire couldn’t get on without them.
To a wannabe tyrant like Haman, drunk with the power he already has, anyone who doesn’t honour him is a threat. To be eliminated. Anyone who’s not like him doesn’t belong in Persia. Haman can’t pull off his final solution because one of the emperor’s favourite wives is one of them. And her father is appropriately honoured.
Obviously the king doesn’t see things as clearly as Haman does. Haman has no doubt he can overcome these obstacles. Years ago I was honoured to hear one of the grandfathers of the Halifax Jewish community tell the story of Purim. All through it he replaced Haman’s name with Hitler’s. Esther reminds us what can happen in our world. What can happen to vulnerable people within the power structures of empire.
Esther is for us. We claim kinship with our Jewish sisters and brothers. We share spiritual ancestry and sacred story. Esther comes with the package. She won’t let us dress her, lighten her skin, make her a Barbie doll and hold her up for the children in moralistic stories at the chancel steps.
What sustains a minority within an empire? One thing is awareness of the tenuousness of its existence. Not paranoia. Hyper-vigilance. Not the assumption there will always be a threat. Empire exerts control through all of those. Simply accepting there’s no guarantee. Existence, preservation, perpetuation can’t be taken for granted.
And because God may have something new in mind. Let’s not think of Esther, the Sunday school heroine. Think of her as our Jewish neighbours do. God may call on a community to become something new and unexpected and dangerous “for such a time as this.”
A community within an empire has to strike a balance between deep rootedness in heritage and identity, and being light-footed, ready to move, adapt. To find new ways of acting out of that heritage and identity. Risking courageously because you are who you are, and you belong to whom you belong.
Now I don’t know if you think this has anything to do with the church in our part of the world today. This is just what I find in this sacred story. We’re not under threat of extinction at some tyrant’s hand. We’ve made peace with the forces of empire. We may still assume they’re there to protect us and our way of life. What could God possibly call us to do in our time?
How Does Jesus Save?

iStockphoto
The Christian faith teaches that Jesus saves. The question is, “How?” If Jesus is Saviour, then what does Jesus save us from, and how does he do it?
The part of Christian theology that deals with this question is soteriology—the doctrine of salvation. The focus is on the work of Christ as Saviour (soter in Greek) and it usually centers on the cross as the means of atonement. To atone is to repair a wrong. It is interesting to note that despite the fact that the atonement lies at the heart of Christianity, the church has never adopted one official position on just how that atonement is accomplished.
The reason for this is simple. The Bible uses different metaphors to describe God’s saving act in Jesus Christ. For example: the sacrifice of a lamb, a shepherd’s life given for the sheep, the innocent dying for the guilty, the ransom of a slave, payment of a debt, and victory over the powers of evil (Living Faith 3.4.3).
In the history of the church, these various metaphors have spawned a number of theories about how Jesus saves. I will briefly identify four.
Theory 1: Jesus died in our place.
The “Substitutionary” theory is the most familiar to Presbyterians and runs as follows:
Christ died for our sins.
The innocent one bore our condemnation on the cross.
He suffered and was put to death
for the sin of the world. (LF, 3.4.2)
Notice that this theory embraces a range of images:
- We are indebted to God, and Jesus pays the price (financial).
- We are guilty of a crime, and Jesus bears the punishment (legal).
- God is angry with us, and Jesus appeases divine wrath (ritual).
The basic idea seems straightforward. What does Jesus save us from? God’s punishment for sin, i.e. death. How does he do it? By dying in our place, on our behalf. For support, its proponents point to Bible passages such as 2 Cor.5:21 (Jesus became sin for us) and John 1:29 (Jesus is the lamb of God).
There are, of course, questions. What kind of God demands the sacrifice of His son? Is this, as some have suggested, a case of “divine child abuse?” And what about the use of violence and suffering to achieve salvation? Doesn’t it justify the suffering of all victims? In short, the substitutionary theory has led some to say: “I love Jesus. But I hate God.”
Theory 2: Jesus defeated the Evil One.
The Christ is Victor theory dominated the church for the first 1,000 years. It depicts Jesus as the winner in a great cosmic battle between the reign of God and the reign of Satan. By sinning, human beings fell under the control of the devil. But Christ frees us by defeating Satan. Human beings are liberated from the devils’ grasp by Christ’s victory.
Again, there is strong biblical support for this theory. On the cross God in Christ “disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public example of them, triumphing over them in it” (Col.2:15). The Book of Revelation tells this story graphically.
But again, there are problems. For one thing, the military imagery puts some people off. Furthermore, this theory assumes a kind of dualism in which the world is divided between a good god and a bad god. In some versions, Christ wins by tricking Satan which raises ethical questions. Even its defenders worry that it seems naïve, simplistic, and morally questionable.
Theory 3: Jesus set an example to follow.
The Moral Influence theory proposes that Jesus lived a good life and died a good death. His example should inspire us to do the same—to love God and others. The faith and obedience of Jesus should influence us to confess our sins and commit ourselves to moral living. The love and forgiveness that Jesus displayed, even in death, set the standard by which we should live and die.
This is the WWJD (What Would Jesus Do?) theory of the atonement. 1 Peter 2:21 seems to support it: “For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his steps.”
Among the problems here, the most pressing is that we are thrown back on ourselves. Think what you like about the first two theories, but they offer explanations of salvation in which Christ does for us what we cannot do for ourselves. Not so here—it’s really up to us to save ourselves, with a little help from Jesus’ example.
Theory 4: Jesus lived the life we were originally intended to live.
The Recapitulation theory emphasizes salvation as the restoration of human existence to its original condition.
Jesus re-lives life for us, in full obedience, undoing our failure, and re-connecting us to God. Christ becomes what we are so that we might become what he is. It’s not just about the cross, but about the whole course of Jesus’ life – the incarnation.
Jesus is the image of God who sums up human life in order to restore the image of God in us. Its advocates pick up Paul’s theme of Christ as “last” or “second” Adam (1 Cor.15:45) and Peter’s idea of participating in the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4). Its critics point out that it ignores a good deal of what the Bible says about the significance of the cross.
What should we make of these four theories? Do they, separately, or together, answer the question “How does Jesus save?”
Well, maybe. But they don’t begin to exhaust the richness of the biblical teaching on salvation. We should remember that the purpose of doctrine is to illumine and clarify the Christian story. Doctrines are not ends in themselves. They are intended to bear witness to God’s revelation in Christ.
That said, despite their failings, these theories try to get at something that is central to the Christian faith: Jesus Christ is our mediator. Through him God has come to us. And through him we come to God. This dual representation is at the heart of Christ’s saving work. In Christ we know that we are God’s beloved sons and daughters. The “how” of it all remains a mystery.
It seems to me that Bishop N.T. Wright has a point when he says that “on the night before he died Jesus did not give us a theory; he gave us a meal.” Perhaps it’s when we share the Lord’s Supper that we best understand and experience how Jesus saves.
Questions for Study and Discussion:
- Read Living Faith 3.4. Which of the biblical metaphors used to describe the saving work of Christ makes the most sense to you? Why?
- The article identifies four views of atonement. Discuss the biblical support given for each view, and the critical questions that arise for each.
- To what extent do the four views set out in the article reflect the historical periods in which they were developed? What does this tell us about the development of Christian doctrine?
- “If sin is forgiven, it is not punished. If sin is punished, it is not forgiven.” Discuss this statement with reference to the substitutionary theory of the atonement.
- The Reformers, especially Luther and Calvin, distinguished between what Christ has done “for us” (justification) and what Christ by his Spirit is doing “in us” (sanctification). Is this still a helpful distinction? Why or why not?
- The Christian tradition in the west (Roman Catholic and Protestant) emphasizes the cross of Christ. If Jesus is Saviour, how do his life, teachings, resurrection, ascension, and intercession contribute to his work of salvation?
- How might your view of the atonement affect the way you pray, the way you approach the Lord’s Supper, the way you read the Bible?
- Are there other views of the saving work of Christ not identified in this article? If so, what are they?
Welcoming Awareness
Over the past several months my Bible study group and I have been learning and exploring prayer. It started after one of the members returned from the National House of Prayer, located in Ottawa. She was filled with passion for prayer and as a result our group began prayer-walking around our hometown of Milton. We prayed into bullying and drug use at school, violence at parks, and the youth drop-in center in the downtown core. And although we did pray for ourselves, with the usual requests for protection as we walked and for needs in our daily lives, we never really prayed into ourselves.
Learning how to pray into myself is one of two very important things I learned at Canada Youth 2009 in July.
It sounds weird, and the experience itself is weird, at least it was for me, but it intrigued me; a sort of spiritual meditation guided by the Holy Spirit. Mark Yaconelli, one of the guest speakers at CY, introduced us to two different forms of this prayer. The first, and in my mind most important, was the awareness examen, designed to discover God’s presence in your daily life. The prayer is based on the teachings of Ignatius of Loyola. The idea of the prayer is to go back over your day, travelling back, allowing the Holy Spirit to draw out a single moment where you felt God strongly, and to remember the details of the moment. It’s harder than it seems: the first time Mark guided us through this prayer, I got nothing back; no one moment really stood out. But the second time, the moment came to me, and the prayer was complete. I allowed the grace of the moment to become a prayer of praise for God’s presence in that one moment.
The second prayer is much more personal in nature. A prayer of welcoming awareness allowed me to bring forward and personify a part of my personality, something that isn’t right with me, and accept it as a part of me. Again I know it sounds weird. It introduces you to a part of you that you could be ashamed of, and gives that element a face. The Holy Spirit enters into the mix, and brings healing and acceptance. Weird I know, but maybe too often we ignore our own deep needs, the ones we aren’t willing to share with others. Maybe we need to have some selfish prayer time when we’re alone, taking time to recharge, such as taking Sabbath.
Andrew Root (who was presented in the June issue) was the other speaker at Canada Youth. He touched on the aspect of taking Sabbath and the connection of that to relational based youth ministry (or rather, ministering to youth). There needs to be some form of boundary between you and those you minister to. If there isn’t, it could only end up harming you and the youth with whom you have a relationship.
Taking Sabbath isn’t just about going to church on Sunday morning, though that may be a part of your Sabbath routine. Remember, after creating the Earth God took an entire day to rest. And if God, the divine, took a day to rest, how much more would we need this! Sabbath is just that—taking a day to rest, relax, and pray, to recharge with God. It is time to spend away from life! And in today’s world it is more important than ever! I work in the information technology industry and I see it more and more: life is reaching breakneck speeds. With Blackberries and portable internet sticks that work around the globe, to software that allows employees to connect to company networks from any internet connection, it may actually take more effort to disconnect from the world than it does to connect to it!
So what did I learn? Take time to relax from life, read a book, and of course pray about yourself and see where God leads you.
























