Theology

47 years ago I had the privilege of teaching typing (do you remember what that is?) to a class of grade nine students in Toronto. To my great dismay, Sandra, one of the brightest students in the class, failed the course. Her mother said to me, “She refused to hand in any work that is not perfect, and finally she completely gave up and chose to fail the course.” I had a little heart-to-heart with Sandra. I encouraged her to try to give up the need for perfection and re-do the course during the summer. She did re-do it, and though her work was not perfect, she earned an “A.”

Lately I’ve been wondering if Mary, mother of Jesus, would have been installed as a deacon if there was a CRC church at that time? I’m a big fan of how thought experiments can help us be more curious and explore the mysteries of our faith.  At the heart of my wondering, I would not focus on issues of Mary’s  place in the culture but focus more on her heart and her actions.

When evening came, his disciples went down to the lake, where they got into a boat and set off across the lake for Capernaum. By now it was dark, and Jesus had not yet joined them. A strong wind was blowing and the waters grew rough. 19 When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus approaching the boat, walking on the water; and they were frightened. But he said to them, “It is I; don’t be afraid.” Then they were willing to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the shore where they were heading.

I’ve had the Last Dance on my Netflix docket since late 2020 but with the arrival of Air Jordan movie in theaters, I circled back and started watching it. The Last Dance examines the Chicago Bulls rise to the top, led by Michael Jordan.  I like biopics, and have always been drawn to people’s stories and their why. But because of my range of thoughts on Jordan and his legacy I wasn’t really compelled to tune in.

There was a time in my life when I arrogantly decided that Psalm 23 was so overused that it had become a Hallmark card cliche. Then I realized it embodied a deep and profound call to seek justice. 

Here is my own paraphrase of the Psalm written as a prayer that attempts to highlight this beautiful call.

Shepherd me, Lord, through all my longings and wants. So much seems so broken, and without your shepherding, I am often left exhausted, drained of hope.

Good Friday is a day for the church to remember that, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer put it so well, ‘when Christ bids us ‘come’, he bids us ‘come and die’.  Despite all of our attempts to construe Jesus’ death as a comforting and comfortable way out of pain and suffering, the reality is – to steal a line from my friend and biblical scholar Andrew Rillera – “Jesus does not die instead of us.  Jesus dies ahead of us.”  We who embrace and are embraced by Jesus are invited to follow Jesus on the way of the cross.  Walking the way of the cross with Jesus is where we learn to suffer for a suff

I started a new job as an Art Teacher at a Juvenile Detention Center in August of last year. Prior to teaching, I volunteered at the facility through my church. As you can imagine teaching justice-involved youth comes with a unique set of challenges. I’m at the center of a lot more angst and less excitement than I ever was as a volunteer. I also know a lot more about the residents– now my students.  Their stories are more pronounced in their daily classroom behavior. It can be a hard thing to carry.  I can’t imagine how hard it is to live the stories. 

The Do Justice editor has invited me to contribute to “Do Justice” every three months, and this post marks the launch! This week I’m retiring from regular employment, and one of my post-employment goals is to live out Micah 6.8 more intentionally with my wife Evelyn in our local context here in Hamilton, ON:  “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

One thing I have learned as I prepare for this transition: seeking justice requires CPD oil.

When I worked in the corporate world, I asked one of my outdoorsy work friends if he attended church. His response was “nature is my church.”  I perceived he knew about church as he spoke in a church lingo sometime; however, he chooses not to go to a church as an adult. Since then I have met numerous persons who have abandoned conventional Christianity, including Indigenous people who have said “nature is my church.”

On the first Sunday of Advent, our pastor spoke on the first eighteen verses of the gospel of John. It has many intriguing references to light and encompasses creation, the new creation and the source of life.

I am a strong believer in the amazing and complex interconnectedness of our life here on earth. For that reason, I sometimes have a difficult time analysing the challenges of creation care without trying to see how it fits together with things like material wealth/poverty and racism.