Ideas for Action

Welcome to our Advocacy Works series! Want to see other posts? Sign up here to receive them in your inbox. 

Have you ever thought of advocacy as an act of worship or a step of discipleship? I hadn't. 

So often I feel that I’m not the advocate or the disciple that I wish I was. Although I’ve had numerous classes and spiritual experiences that had potential to lead to flourishing in both realms, the disconnect between a dysfunctional reality and Shalom weighs heavily. What is a person to do?

I have an encouraging story to tell you. Last Sunday I led 12 Sunday school kids, ages roughly 3 to 12, in learning about the underfunding of First Nations schools on reserve by the Canadian government and how we can speak up for fair funding. We started off by talking about the creation story, especially the creation of humanity in God’s image, and how that makes every single one of us special. The kids were excited to talk about how we can let others know that they’re special: one 3 year-old said his parents make him feel special when they tuck him in for the night.  

Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat—there are a plethora of social media platforms used by stay-at-home moms and celebrities, private citizens and elected officials alike to communicate opinions, beliefs, statements, facts, untruths, popular myths, and more. Then we have regular news sources apart from social media including BBC, CNN, Fox News, CBS, MSNBC, The New York Times, The Blaze—an amalgam of news sources with talking heads and op-ed pieces that launch information, news stories, and soundbites endlessly our way.

Two weeks ago, refugees who were prepared to enter the U.S. received devastating news. After waiting for years and in some cases decades, they found out they were not allowed to enter the country because the U.S. refugee resettlement system was put on pause. There are 21.3 million refugees in the world. Fifty percent of them are children. Less than one percent of all refugees will ever be permanently resettled to a new country.

Welcome to Ordinary Time! Ordinary Time is that vast stretch of the church year between January 6 (Epiphany) and Lent (and also between Pentecost and Advent). The name of the season is, admittedly, not terribly inspiring, but it expresses an important truth--much of our lives can feel ordinary and routine, and yet these are the lives that God calls us to offer to him as living sacrifices. As Romans 12:1 reads:

The last couple of weeks I’ve had a pretty trying wake-up call to the refugee crisis. Probably with Advent and U.S. Thanksgiving on the radar, God just wanted to say something to me about my contentment and entitlement or about my apathetic anticipation of Jesus’ slow return.

I have been reflecting a lot lately about the holy connections between food, faith, and justice. In my daily life, I work part-time as a cook in a French neighbourhood cafe and part-time as a community connections coordinator at my church, where I build relationships with church members and neighbours through our weekly community dinner, neighborhood events and celebrations. In both of my jobs, I use food to feed, nourish and connect people in my workplace, church, and community.

Spanish friar Bartolomé de las Casas recounts the final words of Hatuey, an Indigenous leader on the island of Hispaniola who resisted the conquest: 

August has arrived! If you’re a church leader, you may be looking for a curriculum for your small group, adult study classes, or youth group.

In the words of Pastor Christy Knetsch, whose congregation in Grand Rapids has recently used several of these curricula,

“The Christian Reformed Church is committed to equipping congregations. I am so glad that we have been able to utilize these resources so that we can ensure that not only the head, but heart and hands are empowered to promote justice in the square inches where God gives us influence.”  

As I listened to the various reports from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada, I became intrigued with the stories and lives of Indigenous people. Listening to the soft, yet brilliant voice of the Commission head Murray Sinclair, I realized all my preconceived notions were off base and steeped in white culture traditions. I set off to read some books written by Indigenous authors and learn more about the cultures, the pain, the past, and the future of our neighbours. These are some of my newest discoveries: