Reconciliation

Throughout history people have gathered together to create. From Moses recruiting Bezalel, Oholiab and other gifted craftspeople to furnish the Tabernacle in Exodus 36, to Paul and the other tent-makers forming communities to practice their trade in the New Testament times, to barn-raising and quilting groups, to Indigenous peoples creating body adornments and dance regalia together, to knitting clubs and paint nights: people in every culture and throughout time have come together to express themselves and their culture through creative arts.

September 30th 2023 is the second time Canada will mark a National Day of Truth and Reconciliation. It coincides with Orange Shirt Day, a grassroots commemoration marked by the wearing of Orange Shirts for children forced to leave their families and attend residential schools.

In this series on Deacons and Justice, we have looked at how structural injustice creates obstacles to creating communities of justice, and how deacons (and all Christians) work to affirm the dignity of all peoples. One final but essential piece of Christian justice work is the ministry of reconciliation (2 Corinthians 5: 17-21).

I recently went to see the film Bones of Crows with three other members of my Hearts Exchanged group. I made sure to put a stash of tissues in my purse - I expected to get quite emotional based on what I had seen in the trailer for the film. I didn’t use any of those tissues. Not because the film avoided hard stories but because the characters were strong and resilient and the painful truths were not manipulated into some kind of gratuitous sentimentality.

When I was 11 years old

June is National Indigenous History Month in Canada, an opportunity to learn about the unique cultures, traditions and experiences of First Nations, Inuit and Métis. It's a time to honour the stories, achievements and resilience of Indigenous Peoples, who have lived on this land since time immemorial and whose presence continues to impact the evolving Canada. 

I can’t help but lament the absence of divine justice. Thankfully God is not finished with us.  How much better will we do in the next 10 years?  Sometimes I think of the process of reconciliation as a dance. The question is, “How ready are we to make this an inclusive party. to turn up the music so that the dance can begin?

I have spent years visiting art galleries, and for a portion of my career I had the opportunity to work in an art gallery. I am the person who stands reading the labels in art galleries, curious to understand what the artist is wanting to express through their art. Art can convey visually what words simply cannot. Art can evoke a wide range of emotions from the viewer and invite people to share in an experience together through those feelings. Often, art becomes a vehicle for contemplation for me in a way that words simply cannot.

In November 2022 I received my ancestral name Switametelót—a name gifted to my great-grandmother from her father Switamet.  When my great-grandmother married a non-Indigenous man, she was no longer considered Indigenous and her name was buried under the rubble of discrimination found in the Indian Act.  The name could not be passed to my grandmother nor my mother in their lifetime.  What an injustice to the matriarchs of my family!  Five generations later, I reclaimed our family name.  Through this reclamation, my connection to Squiala (my great grandfather’s traditonal territory)

Jonathan Nicolai-deKoning (is the director of the Micah Centre at King’s University, which helps students explore ways of seeking justice in today's local and global contexts. He joins Chris to talk about the lines of thought in two of his recent blogs on Do Justice which lent inspiration to the theme of this season.