News from the Pews

It was the latent heat of condensation that really drew me to love all things weather and climate.  This simple mathematical equation, detailing in numbers a process of precipitation and the cloud forming cycle, fascinated me.  That was 40 years ago and here I am still writing about it. 

Immigration has, once again (and as it often does), become an inescapable topic of public discussion across North America.    

At Waterloo CRC we have a group of folks who are learning about justice for Indigenous peoples and are committed to acting on that knowledge. We call ourselves JIP – Justice and Indigenous Peoples.

The other week, while on vacation, my two youngest kids and I were happily soaking in our hotel’s hot tub. Across from us was a swimming pool, which two girls, aged five and 15, entered. Their mother sat nearby.

Immediately, a large young man in his early twenties beelined toward the girls. He seemingly had a mild developmental disability, but he was also being intentionally aggressive. While splashing them, he began loudly asking highly personal questions. Their mother didn’t react.

Indigenous identity fraud has become so common that there is a “Pretendian List” circulating on the internet that includes Canadians and Americans.  The term “Pretendian” is used to call out a person who has falsely claimed Indigenous identity.  Many sectors of society and in particular universities are facing this fraud and the injustice it brings to Indigenous communities, students, staff and faculty of educational institutes. 

God’s creation is an intricate tapestry, each thread – be it river, mountain, forest or creature – playing an indispensable role. The policies we enact either strengthen or fray this delicate fabric. Conservation isn't just an environmental concern; it's a moral calling rooted in our role of lovers, restorers, and healers of God's creation. As we grapple with environmental degradation, the solutions we champion must aim to heal, not merely for our sake but for generations to come.

I went to a writer’s conference last weekend and it was everything I expected and everything I didn’t expect. I mean what do you think of when you hear: West Virginia? "Take me home, Country Roads to a place I belong, West Virginia, Mountain Mama."  For a split second, I only referenced this song as one I learned in Elementary school, not as a John Denver classic. 

As I moved across the Narthex, I could see my office door. Inside was a chair I knew I could collapse in and a desk on which I could place all the music, binders, and odds and ends that had accumulated in my arms since the end of the service. Just a few more steps. A few more steps. A few more—

—“Miss Bethany!” the girl cried out and bounded across the narthex to throw her arms around me. “I prayed for you today in Sunday school!”

How do we work and pray for justice “in the meantime”?  What does prayerful action for shalom look like when we are caught in that awkward, ordinary time between our painful present and God’s coming future?  

“After 13 hours, it finally feels like Christmas!” exclaimed one of my granddaughters.  Her younger sister with a big smile tells me that decorating the tree and our home is the best part of Christmas.  Having my grandchildren come over to help decorate the tree, set up the Christmas village and help to prepare for Christmas dinner has been a long-standing tradition in our home.  A tradition that is held deeply and fondly in my heart.  However, Christmas is more than an occasion to decorate; more than a family feast; more than a holiday from work and school; more than giving and r