Best Practices

Words are powerful. With God’s mighty power, He only had to speak the words, “Let there be light” for light to be created into existence. While not as powerful as our Lord Almighty, the words we use are also impactful, filled with meaning and associations. Used with good intentions, they can evoke powerful emotion, inspiration, courageous action, and provide support and healing. They can be a vehicle for praise and contrition, discipleship and sharing of the Gospel.

I immigrated to the United States when I was 6 years old; a few months shy of turning 7. I started second grade without a word of English. My mother dressed me in what she thought was cute, but her idea of cute in the 80s was not American’s view of a fashionable 7-year-old. So at age 7, I started elementary school in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, surrounded by kids that did not look like me and couldn’t talk to me. The games that were played on the playground and the topics talked about in the classroom were foreign to me.

My last day with the CRCNA is May 31st, 2024. The thought of retirement is intriguing. I used to wonder how far away it was, with my plan initially set for 2028. But now, it's just around the corner, and I'm filled with anticipation and excitement. 

Seated around a solid wooden table beside a cozy window streaming with sunlight, a close-knit group and I were enjoying pastries, warm coffee, and gentle camaraderie. As we caught up on each other’s lives, a woman shared about a vacation she had recently taken.

When booking her hotel, she hadn’t realized that right across the street was a large encampment where numerous unhoused people were staying. From her high-up hotel room window, she had a bird’s-eye view of the people below. She said this had given her a “clearer picture of how the other side lived.”  

I find Walter Brueggemann's framework of orientation, disorientation, and reorientation quite helpful as we as a denomination try to grow in diversity and unity. According to Brueggemann, our faith journey begins with orientation, where we find ourselves in a state of deep gratitude for life's blessings. This phase is characterized by a sense of peace and order, where everything in our lives aligns harmoniously with God's creation. Yet, inevitably, we enter periods of disorientation, marked by loss, crisis, and confusion.

"The craftsmen of Solomon and Hiram and workers from Byblos cut and prepared the timber and stone for the building of the temple." 1 Kings 5:18

In the face of an imminent environmental crisis, a powerful climate justice movement is rising from the heart of faith communities across Canada.

Worship that has integrity refuses to divorce praise of the Creator from love of creation. Hands that are raised in praise of Creator God must seek to also reach out in actions that defend the welfare of creation. Anything less risks expressing empty words of adoration devoid of committed action.

If I had my way of doing racial reconciliation, I would have to follow this verse of the Bible:  "My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise." Psalm 51:17. 

To me this means that I must be painstakingly convinced of my misery and danger by sin, which I spare no cost to obtain the forgiveness of it. A broken spirit and a contrite heart are those in which sorrow and affliction have done their work, and the stubbornness of pride has been replaced by the humility of penitence. 

As Christians around the world prepare during this Advent Season to celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace, I pray we might realize how we are invited to contribute to peace in the world. 

I experienced amazing Middle Eastern hospitality in my late twenties and early thirties in Sierra Leone and the West Bank. Once I was welcomed home, I became a friend for life. Meals there consisted of delicious delicacies for twice as many people as were invited. Especially as a single woman, they took extra care to keep an eye on me. I knew if I had any questions or problems, one phone call could solve almost all my challenges. My problems became their problems. In the West Bank, I was there as a two-week consultant.