Dec 10
A friend recently directed my attention to an episode of CBC’s The Current where the subject matter was Gen Z’s return to Christianity. Many are noticing that the kids are coming back to church. At least some of them. We’re not exactly talking a tidal wave here, but certainly a steady trickle. What on earth is going on, the venerable CBC wanted to know? Read more
Most Canadians are laser-focused on the Toronto Blue Jays these days. And understandably so. They Jays are on quite a run, and they are an easy team to like. I’ve never been a huge baseball fan, but even I am enjoying watching them give the gazillionaire Dodgers all they can handle. When the Jays aren’t on, though, I’ve been keeping an eye on the Rolex Paris Masters, the world’s biggest indoor tennis tournament (here, too, a Canadian is doing well—Felix Auger-Aliassime is into the quarterfinals). Tennis is a sport that I’ve come to really enjoy in the last five years or so, both the viewing and the playing. And it’s given me a new window into some aspects of the Christian life. Read more
On any given Monday out at the jail, anywhere from 25-40 percent of the guys who come out to the chapels are indigenous. Given that they make up around 6-7 percent of the Alberta population, that’s some bad math. Actually, “bad” is not a strong enough word. It’s heartbreaking. And it’s angry making. And it’s frustrating. And it’s demoralizing. And… well, pick your adjective. It’s not good. It is a reality that should not be. Read more
I had never heard of Charlie Kirk before yesterday. But his assassination is, of course, front page news everywhere today. Another disgusting tragedy, another spasm of violence in culture addicted to violence, another casualty of a toxic political culture and a diseased discursive climate, another outrage to dominate and be weaponized by social media before we collectively yawn and move on to the next outrage. It all feels so utterly wearisome and predictable and inevitable in our fractious, polarized, and distractible times. Read more
Many Mondays as I make the short drive to the jail, I listen to a song by Jon Guerra called “The Kingdom of God.” It’s a beautiful song by a gifted songwriter (Guerra’s most recent album, “Jesus,” has been a mainstay in my headphones since it was released during Lent). The song is basically a creative version of the Beatitudes set to music (with a bit of Psalm 23 mixed in). I listen on Mondays primarily because of one line that hit me like a freight train the first time I heard it and almost never fails to leave me with a lump in my throat: “Blessed are the guilty who have nowhere to go.” Read more
When you walk the Camino, you hear the same phrase repeatedly. From locals, from fellow pilgrims, from whoever: Bom Caminho (in Portugal) or Buen Camino (in Spain). Literally, these both translate into English as “Good Way.” More colloquially and contextually it means something like “Have a good journey.” It was nice to hear these words and to speak them to others. Read more
I think it was around day ten or eleven of the Camino when we found ourselves talking to two Estonian women on a sun-baked terrazza near Pontevedra, Spain. It had been a long hot day of walking, and the patio appeared like an oasis as we emerged from a heavily treed, hilly section that seemed to go on and on. Rarely had the sound of laughing voices and clinking glasses sounded so welcome! Read more
I was asked to give a last-minute presentation at a regional denominational gathering last weekend. The guest speaker was ill, so a bunch of pastors were tapped to plug the gaps. 2025 has been designated as the 500th anniversary of the Anabaptist movement so this was a focus throughout the weekend. How we mark these things is, of course, at least somewhat arbitrary. The people who make such decisions have designated the beginnings of our branch of the Christian tree as the date of the first believer’s baptism in Zurich in 1525. But of course, threads of Anabaptist thought run throughout Christian history. And to whatever extent “Anabaptism” can be spoken of as a monolithic movement, the 2025 version looks very different than whatever was bubbling up in 1525. History is poorly behaved and stubbornly resists our desire for clean lines and unambiguous markers. Thus, has it ever been, I suppose. Read more
Around the circle at the jail recently we were talking about the God who meets us at our lowest point. It’s not particularly difficult for the guys to think about their lowest point. It’s not exactly a remote hypothetical for many for them. They’re living it. They’re at the bottom. They know precisely what most people think of them—they often think it of themselves. They are well aware of their weaknesses and proclivities, their addictions and destructive habits, their character flaws and worst impulses. They know who they are, they know where they are, and they know why. Read more
For at least the last year or two, two Englishmen have been fighting in my head. Well, maybe “fighting” is too strong a word. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that my brain has been hosting a “lively discussion” between two visions of what Christianity might be in and for the world in the twenty-first century. These visions are not entirely incompatible with one another; there is significant overlap, to be sure. But they are different enough to cause some tension. And it’s a tension that I feel as one tasked with leading a church in these strange times. Read more
To say that the library at the jail has an eclectic mix of reading material would be to put it mildly. Relying on donations, as we do, we get everything from Joyce Meyer books on the habits of a godly woman to decades-old biblical commentaries to Nick Vujicic’s biography to Paul Tillich. Throw in a smattering of stray Buddhist and Muslim resources and the inmates have a rather bewildering array of options. Read more
Woe to you who strive with your Maker,
earthen vessels with the potter!
Does the clay say to the one who fashions it, ‘What are you making?’
— Isaiah 45:9
“Do you think it’s true, what that verse from Isaiah says? That God just does with us whatever he wants?” The guy sitting across from me in the prison interview room shuffles in his seat nervously. Eye contact is sporadic at best. He has a few nasty scars on the side of his face. He seems either suspicious or really shy. I can’t quite make out which and am not quite sure which direction to steer the conversation. “Tell me a bit about your background,” I say. “You know your Bible pretty well; you must have been raised in the church.” He looks at me blankly before responding, “No, nothing, I’ve just been in here a bunch of times and when I’m in here, I read the Bible.”
Among the readings I encountered during morning prayer today was Psalm 17:1-7. It is a plea for divine vindication, protection, blessing, and favour from the pen of David. I have long had something of a complicated relationship with the Psalms. I know that the Psalms are the prayer-book of the church, that really smart and spiritual people pray them every day. And they do express the full range of human emotion. And they do contain some of the most beautiful and exalted language in all of Scripture. But sometimes the implicit theology doesn’t land. It strikes me as true-ish, but not true enough. Read more
I’ve been slowly making my way through Marilynne Robinson’s beautiful commentary on Genesis. It’s called, simply, Reading Genesis, and those who know anything about Robinson or her work will not be surprised to learn that it reads rather differently than a typical biblical commentary. Her soaring prose, her seemingly effortless command of complex biblical, historical, and philosophical issues, and the ways in which she weaves all this together in conversation with an ancient text is marvellous to behold. Read more
Further to the crisis of meaning discussed in my previous post…
Not only are young adults (at least in the West) not making enough babies, they’re incredibly anxious. Over the course of at least the last decade or so, a mental health crisis has washed/is washing over younger generations. According to a recent survey, “38 percent of respondents aged 12 to 26 had received a formal diagnosis of anxiety or depression” (29 percent of young men, 45 percent of young women). Further, “even among those who have not received a diagnosis, about half say they often feel anxious; a quarter say they often feel depressed.” The young, clearly, are not well. Read more
A single word cuts through all the noise and bustle and bravado around the circle at the jail. It’s prayer time and the guys aren’t super focused. A few talk about upcoming court dates and girlfriends in rehab and various health concerns over the humming, buzzing banter. I’m loudly repeating the requests, struggling a bit to maintain control of the room. The word is spoken softly by a young man to my immediate right. He’s been a regular ever since he arrived on the remand unit. He has an intense curiosity about him, always leaning forward on his knees, always paying careful attention, always asking questions. He’s often one of the cheerier guys in the room, but he’s not smiling right now. He looks, I don’t know, thoughtful, pensive, a little sad as he speaks the one word that reduces the room to silence.
“Forgiveness.” Read more
On Sunday morning, a few of us were going through some last-minute details in preparation for the service. Among these, was the addition of a slide to be projected during the sermon. The person who had requested the slide had it ready to go on a USB drive and was going to deliver it to the people responsible for making sure such things happen. I couldn’t help but notice that the USB drive had the logo of a certain political party on it. I made some offhand comment about it. This led to a bit of harmless political banter. “Better not use that drive when so-and-so is running the tech,” one person said with a wink. “Yeah, but other-so-and-so would love it” said someone else. And so and so forth. It was a light moment of brevity before worship, perhaps even an unwitting acknowledgement that even though we don’t all see things the same way politically, we can still come together in worship. Read more
“My cellmate said a wild thing the other day. He told me that the word ‘hate’ is in the bible, somewhere in the Old Testament. I told him he was full of s***. that God doesn’t hate he only loves.” This was the first comment that emerged around the circle at the jail recently when I opened the space up for anyone to share what was on their mind. Not for the first time, I thought, “Huh, didn’t see that coming.” How to respond? “Well,” I said, “your cellmate is right, the word ‘hate’ is in the bible (around 200 times, depending on the English translation). It’s often even used in connection with God.” He looked at me suspiciously before exhaling through his teeth. “Really? Man, that’s f***ed up!” Read more
Rumblings 