Part III: Who owns your church building?
This six-part series draws on Kara Carter’s PhD studies, for which she conducted five focus groups with Mennonite Church Eastern Canada pastors.
This six-part series draws on Kara Carter’s PhD studies, for which she conducted five focus groups with Mennonite Church Eastern Canada pastors.
“My children decided it’s time for me to move out of my house and join a retirement community. I don’t agree. I feel like I have no say anymore. I can still think, but they are not interested in hearing me out.”
Pay attention to artists
Thanks for your willingness to address tough issues facing the church and other institutions in our society. I appreciate your attempt at enlarging the tent by listening to voices that have been marginalized.
This photograph shows Wanner Mennonite Church at worship in July 1950. In the mid-20th century, it was a new pattern for many Ontario Mennonite congregations to have men and women sitting together in a worship service rather than men on one side and women on the other. What is your congregation’s “social geography?” Who sits where? Why do you think this is?
In Joshua 5, we come across one of those wonderfully strange biblical stories that shakes our preconceptions and leaves us with more questions than answers.
Israel is encamped at Gilgal, preparing to besiege Jericho at God’s command—so they firmly believe. Suddenly Joshua sees a man whom he does not recognize standing in front of him, sword drawn.
A good friend, Wes Neepin, died this past week. I’ve written columns about Wes in the past but used a pseudonym, because I never got around to asking permission to tell his stories. Anonymity seems less important now.
At this time of year, I begin to rummage through the various drawers of miscellany in search of those red Mennonite Central Committee buttons that say, “To remember is to work for peace.” Maybe you wear such a button too in the run-up to Remembrance Day.
Dear Psalmists,
Sometimes I delight in your comforting words of
God’s grace and compassion.
You paint an alluring and alleviating picture
of a loving, caring and ever-present shepherding
God who loves us and knows us.
Why cut what can be untied? This wise, old saying can apply to family conflicts. Some of our family ties are threadbare and frail; there is strain, and there is underlying conflict that we are aware of but too timid and, dare I say, too peace-loving to address.
How does your faith community answer these questions: Who are we? Who are we becoming? Who does God say we are?
Interactive theatre requires audience participation, explained Cedric Martin as he introduced “I Love You and It Hurts,” a Theatre of the Beat performance held at the Kitchener Public Library on September 30. “Don’t panic,” he added quickly, promising that no one would be coerced or shamed into participating.
Thank you for this excellent, nuanced article (“The gift of life, the question of death,” September 22). Clearly, patients have always made private, off-the-books decisions with the help and hindrance of doctors and loved ones alike.
David Klassen of Rosenfeld, Manitoba, age 83, poses for an informal portrait at a family reunion. The photo is from a 1955 article in The Canadian Mennonite, which frequently published articles about family reunions and wedding anniversaries as matters of wider interest to the Mennonite community.
As a child, I was vaguely envious of others who had deep connections in Canada. In my family, that was not the case. My parents are from the UK and we spent our vacations going back to visit family. Although born in Canada, I longed for a deeper sense of belonging.
My 88-year-old father often asks why churches push out people who don’t 100 percent agree with their theology. “Why can’t they all just get along?” He is worried about the increasing polarization in Western society and within the church.
Popular author, speaker and shame researcher Brené Brown once quipped, “You can’t swing a cat without hitting a narcissist.” She later apologized for the inhumane image conjured by the idiom, but she stood behind the underlying message. Many psychologists and social scientists agree: Narcissism is everywhere. Some are calling it an epidemic.
In early 2000, when I first stepped into the sanctuary of Willingdon Church in Burnaby, B.C., I was astounded to see the music team’s diversity. A variety of races and ethnicities was represented, singing a chorus praising God.
Wrestling
I read your piece (“The duty of tension,” June 16) and I’ve been wrestling with the content. It was a great editorial, and I commend your willingness to stomach the rhetoric for the sake of journalism (and in promotion of open-mindedness).
It’s worth celebrating that the regions of MC Canada have identified the climate crisis as a priority ministry area in recent years. Like all priorities, where the rubber really hits the road is not in reports and lists and minutes from meetings, but where two or three (or 200 or 300) are gathered—the congregation.
This photo depicts the founding of the Conference of Mennonites in Canada in 1902 at Tiefengrund, Sask.
My sister Helen is a retired nurse who spent much of her career working with palliative patients. In the last few years of her working life, she encountered medical assistance in dying (MAID).
An encounter with Jesus is a call for transformation. Such is the story of Zacchaeus. Jesus noticed him watching from a tree and invited himself for dinner. Zacchaeus must have known Jesus often preached against those with wealth who took advantage of others—as was the reputation of tax collectors such as Zacchaeus—but accepted the hosting request.
Psalm 103 contains familiar and beautiful lines that speak of the Lord as being gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love. They’re lovely, but that’s not what struck me in my most recent read-through. Instead, I was surprised by:
In order to fully embrace the diversity of the church and to live into God’s reign of justice and peace, it is necessary to sing and pray with Indigenous Christians.
My memories of high school are largely a featureless blur—I did graduate 40 years ago—but one incident that stands out in detail is a lecture in my vocational agriculture class. Mr. Upp drew an illustration of nutrient cycling on the chalkboard, complete with stick-figure cows.