What Was God Saying To Canada's Indigenous People Before the Nativity? Or, How to De-Colonize Christmas

At Christmas, Christians celebrate how they believe God came into the world through Jesus.

But before God came into the world 2,000 years ago in Palestine, what was he saying to Indigenous people in North America at the same time?

After all, it’s not like God wasn’t doing anything to communicate to human beings prior to that event—including to Indigenous people who have been living in North America for as long as 12,000 years. 

So what was God saying?

That’s the question I posed to my friend Terry Leblanc, an Indigenous Christian leader and director of the North American Institute for Indigenous Theological Studies.

While affirming the traditional Christmas story of God breaking into the world as a baby in a particular place and time to provide redemption and restoration for all creation, Leblanc notes this doesn’t mean God wasn’t also speaking to Indigenous people before that event.

While the history we read about in the Bible was unfolding, “there was an historical timeline of equal length unfolding here and in other places of the globe,” he says.

This doesn’t mean “God, as Jesus, was here [in North America],” he adds, although he says there are Indigenous prophecies “of the arrival of the message of Jesus.”

But God “as Creator and God as the Spirit were here,” he states. 

If that’s the case, what was God saying to the Indigenous people of North America? 

According to LeBlanc, God was speaking about things like the seven teachings: Love, respect, courage, honesty, wisdom, humility and truth. 

As an “Indigenous follower of the Jesus Way,” as he describes himself, the biblical story qualifies “the notion of the Creator’s sufficient revelation to Indigenous peoples in the past,” he says. 

“For whatever reason, God chose to enter God’s own creation in human form to perform the ceremony of redemption and restoration, through a particular people group, from a particular land, at a particular time, and that this was for all of creation.” 

When Europeans arrived on this continent, he notes, they assumed North America’s Indigenous people were heathens, people with no prior knowledge whatsoever of God. 

But they did, Leblanc says; they just had a different way of understanding and expressing it through stories. 

Christian missionaries assumed those stories “were irrelevant and/or replaceable by the biblical narrative, instead of recognizing the universal applicability of those [Indigenous] narratives,” he says. 

Blinded to the Creator’s presence among Indigenous people, and conflating Christianity with their own culture, the European missionaries sought to convert them to their way of being Christian. 

“It is this theologically aberrant understanding that has been thrust upon Indigenous peoples,” he says. 

But Indigenous people aren’t the only ones who need to de-colonize the theologically aberrant understandings thrust upon them, he suggests; it’s also something non-Indigenous Christians need to do. 

As Leblanc puts it: “Decolonization is just as needed for Euro-centric Christianity at Christmas as it is for Indigenous peoples. Only then will we be able to see a Christ-filled celebration that is not devoid of culture, but rather expressive of the intent of God through all cultures that have emerged through time.”

For him, that intent is “the redemption and restoration of all things . . . whatever hinders or redirects that intention needs either to be decolonized or set aside entirely.” 

So—what would it mean for non-Indigenous Christians to de-colonize Christmas? After all, it’s been colonized so completely by a culture of consumerism. Separating the biblical message from the cultural and commercial trappings of the season is almost impossible. 

One way to start is remembering the radical idea behind God’s coming to earth: to upend all rulers, structures, cultures and economic and political systems. 

Another is to remember how Jesus, during his ministry, discomforted the political and religious elite, overturned cultural norms and challenged theological certainties by doing things like eating with prostitutes, befriending tax collectors and re-defining the concept of neighbour. 

Or, as Christian author Jonathan Martin put it: If this Christmas the Jesus you worship “makes emperors feel comfortable and oppressed people feel unsafe, it's time for a grand reversal.”

Image above by Jackson Beardy. From the Dec. 21, 2019 Winnipeg Free Press.

Cancelled Concerts, Lost Revenue, A Chance to Innovate and Be Creative: How The Pandemic Has Affected Christian Artists

In November I asked some Canadian Christian musicians how the pandemic is affecting them. A short story about their responses appeared in the December 5 Winnipeg Free Press. Here are their complete responses. 

Steve Bell 

Steve, who lives in Winnipeg, calls himself a Christian contemplative singer and songwriter. He is a member of St. Benedict’s Table. Visit his website at https://stevebell.com/ 

How has the pandemic affected you? 

Concerts have been cancelled for well over a year (I typically do about 100 a year.) When the pandemic hit in March, our first thought was that we may not be able to do concerts again until the fall. Besides regular concerts, we had to cancel a spring tour to Italy and teaching a summer course with Malcolm Guite at Regent College. Quite quickly it became evident that we needed to plan on how to survive until January 2021, which was unthinkable when the pandemic first hit. 

Now everything has been cancelled for 2021 including the CS Lewis Summer Institute in Oxford this coming summer as well the rescheduled summer course at Regent college. At this point we’re hoping to get back to touring in 2022. So, we’ve lost our major revenue stream for at least two years.  

CD sales are still somewhat significant for me because I have an older demographic that still buys them, although sales have dropped steadily as digital formats supplant traditional user habits.  

Digital sales earn the artist only a tiny fraction of what CDs did . . . so this is a rapidly declining revenue source. 

Donations, however, are up significantly. Within a few weeks of the lockdown we figured out how to get regular mini concerts up online that streamed to Facebook and YouTube.  We haven’t charged for them, but folks have responded generously through a digital “tip jar” (https://buymeacoffee.com/stevebellmusic) and a donation portal on my website. 

We’ve also accessed government assistance, which has helped enormously. 

In the last couple of months, we launched an online media channel (https://watch.eventive.org/stevebell) which allows us to put up new pay-per-view feature-length concerts as well as older concert videos and documentaries etc. that we’ve produced over the years. 

I just released a 90-minute concert celebrating my new album and plan to release a Christmas concert next month. In the new year we have plans for various themed concerts (Valentines, Easter, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day etc.) as well as releasing instructional videos for guitar enthusiasts and teaching videos around my book series Pilgrim Year. 

The impact spiritually and emotionally is hard to gauge. Besides the anxiety we all have to manage, I am fundamentally a live performer and so my primary area of gift requires gathering. I am learning to do online performances, and folks seem to appreciate them, but there is little joy in it for me. I feed off of an audience, and so, performing to a camera is a one-way energy flow that leaves me rather drained. 

I am having to learn to replenish in new ways which, for me, has meant being disciplined to get out for extended walks by the river and spending long periods sitting quietly in nature. With winter closing in however, this resource too is vanishing. 

And so, I’m really having to discipline myself to rise early to pray and read. Reading has always been important for me, even more so now. The difficulty though is the constant temptation to get sucked into the rapid-pace news cycle online . . . or just mindless internet surfing because it’s easy.

 What is the financial impact? 

Beside what I’ve already said above, with some austerity measures, donations, government helps and some new revenue from online innovations, we’re somehow managing to stay ahead of the bank. 

Government assistance, of course, will soon dry up, and it’s hard to know if people’s generosity toward this work will continue as the pandemic undermines their own financial security. But we’re managing so far. (By we, I mean Signpost Music, which consists of myself, my manager Dave, and two much needed support staff.) 

What can people do to support artists during this time? 

Every artist has a webpage or various social media sights where you can find out what they’ve set up for listeners to help them. Many have virtual tip jars like buymeacoffee.com or Patreon accounts or other ways listeners can contribute. If you’re listening to the music, you should be contributing to its cost. 

Listeners need to understand that music platforms like Spotify are wonderfully convenient, but of no financial help to the artist. A song of mine got over a million plays on Spotify which yielded less than $20 for me. So . . . go ahead and use the platform, it’s a great platform, but please find a way to support the artists you listen to. 

Streaming calculator courtesy of Jon Buller.

Also, if you still have a CD or record player, please use them. We spend so much time and effort and money making sure our music has great sonics. Digital platforms (listened to on cheap earbuds) aren’t able to reproduce the fidelity of the recordings we actually make. It saddens me that so few get to hear and appreciate the delicate, loving attention that goes into this work. 

What gifts or opportunities has the pandemic brought? 

The pandemic is forcing all of us to innovate. And this is a good thing. We’re learning new skills as we come to better understand what our core gifts are and how they can translate into new mediums.  

By core gift, I mean the gift behind the music. I continually ask myself, How does God love the world through me? Some of us are encouragers, some are prophets, some offer praise, some offer prayers, others offer delight or beauty or simple melodies so that the heart never has to be without a hum.  

An unanticipated gift for me was that I got to record my new album without the constant disruption of heading out on the road. In 30 years of doing this work I’ve never had that luxury. With this one I could get into the headspace of recording and stay there throughout the whole project. 

The result, for me at least, is an album that flows in an easy manner that seems unique to this project. I hope others can hear that, but I can at least. And I really enjoyed the process in a way I haven’t been able to in the past. 

What is your hope for the church when the pandemic is over? 

This pandemic, coupled with the election south of our border, has been a true apocalypse. Apocalypse simply means to unveil, or reveal. And we’re seeing some things about ourselves that is far less than flattering; allegiances and ideological commitments that run in opposition to the way of Jesus which is, fundamentally, the way of self-donating (kenotic) love. I hope the church emerges chastened, humbled and re-newed to be the good-news gift the world needs us to be.

Brian Doerksen 

Brian, of Abbotsford, B.C, calls himself a contemporary Christian and modern worship musician. He attends a Vineyard church. Visit his website at https://www.briandoerksen.com/

How has the pandemic affected you? 

I started out 2020 with 45 concerts booked in Canada and Europe. All of them were cancelled. I anticipate all live concerts in 2021 to be cancelled as well.  

What is the financial impact? 

The financial impact has been significant as we lost the income from the live concerts, as well, being that concerts is the primary place I sell CDs and any merchandise, that’s another significant layer of loss. (Especially after we had just ordered 2,000 CDs for the spring tour and paid for them and couldn’t sell them). 

Most of the buying public doesn’t realize that streaming pays the music creators virtually nothing so even if that area is increasing it increases by a few dollars a year. 

Because over 50% of my income is still connected to church use of my songs around the world (Canada, US, UK etc.) it didn’t wipe me out. And there was some funding that came from the government to make up the losses.  

What can people do to support artists during this time? 

The most important thing people can do to support artists in this time is to actually purchase music from the artist’s own webstore. Even if people don’t use CDs anymore, they can purchase a digital version of our albums (if people purchase that same album from iTunes the artist makes only about half of that sale.). 

Plus vinyl records are making a comeback (it’s the best physical format) and I have 2 of my recent albums available in vinyl. https://www.briandoerksen.com/store 

What gifts or opportunities has the pandemic brought? 

One of the great benefits of the pandemic thus far has been slowing down the pace of our life; by eliminating travel we are together more and just deepening our family ties. Eating dinner together every evening. This has been really good. More time with the family. More time at home. 

For my work and music, the pandemic is helping me pivot and prepare to do more online teaching seminars and song writing training. It looks like that will be my focus in 2021. And because the touring was cancelled, I decided to do a recording of hymns called ‘Hymns For Life’. 

The audio is turning out great, photo shoot is done and Roberta (in Winnipeg) is designing the artwork and packaging. This Hymns album wouldn’t exist with the pandemic and it feels like it may be one of my most resonant projects (release date March 2021) and one of which I will be the most proud.  

What is your hope for the church when the pandemic is over? 

My hope for the church is that we become less focused on the institution and buildings and more focused on relationships and spirituality that is rooted where we live, with compassion and justice for all. 

Honestly, I don’t how mega-churches that are program driven in large buildings can survive much longer. Perhaps they will find a way. The church always does, as long as she is willing to change, learn and adapt to what’s happening in culture. 

The beautiful thing about the gospel is it’s not about our programs nor dependant on our buildings . . . it about sharing life with each other.   

Our small church (Table Vineyard) in many ways hasn’t missed a beat because of how we do church. We don’t have any staff, we don’t have a charity, we don’t have a building (and we had none of these things before COVID-19.)  

We are all volunteers and we simply do life together, supporting one another, praying for one another as we share meals, go for walks together and worship together in a way that incorporates some of the ancient practices of the church while we maintain a relaxed informality. 

I feel like this type of church is sustainable, and was the only type of church I could be a part of after several intense church conflicts between 2006 & 2010 left me traumatized by so much of what church has become.  

Thanks so much for your interest in us as artists. What we do is not considered an essential service . . . but I can’t imagine my life without music and I can’t imagine life without the music of several of the people on the list that you sent this email to.  

Carolyn Arends  

Carolyn, of Surrey, B.C. is a folk-pop/singer-songwriter who attends an Alliance church. Visit her website at https://carolynarends.com/ 

How has the pandemic affected you? 

Many canceled events; inability to work in the studio with other musicians during the early lockdown. 

What is the financial impact? 

I've definitely lost significant income from canceled concerts. I'm probably in a bit different position than most of the artists you are interviewing, however, in that, after 20+ years of full-time music, I took a "day" job five years ago. 

For this reason, I am not in a position of relying on my music as my primary income. I have to say, though, that I have been deeply concerned for my colleagues for whom music is their full-time income. For them, this has been a financially devastating time. 

What can people do to support artists during this time?  

I've noticed there are a lot of crowdfunding campaigns right now. I am definitely trying to support as many of them as I can and I urge others to do the same. I ran one on Kickstarter for two new projects in the summer and the support I got there has made it possible for me to create new music, which will be out early next year. 

I'd say if there is an artist whose work has meant something to you and you want to make sure they remain able to create music, investigate what pathways are in place for you to support them. That could look like a Kickstarter campaign, a Patreon or other ongoing support mechanism, a tip jar on live streams, or simply buying their merch online. 

Also, don't underestimate how much a quick email or direct message—just sharing what their music has meant to you—can be an encouragement to your favourite artist. 

What gifts or opportunities has the pandemic brought?  

For me, 2020 has actually been an unexpectedly creative year. Way back when the pandemic first hit, I was receiving the honour of having one of my songs ("Seize the Day") being entered into the "Song Hall of Fame" at the Covenant Awards. The in-person award show had to be canceled, but the organizers scrambled and held it online. 

During my acceptance speech, I was aware I was talking to a lot of artists for whom being unable to tour was going to be financially devastating. 

What came to my mind was the idea that this COVID season was a kind of exile, and I thought of Jeremiah 29:5-7, where God tells the Israelites that, in a time of exile, you should plant gardens and seek the welfare of the city in which you find yourself. 

I suggested that, for musicians, "planting gardens" might mean that this would be a season to write new songs, or at least to cultivate the soil for the writing of new songs by doing the sorts of things that nurture creativity (reading great literature, listening to great music, slowing down, praying, listening.) 

After I gave the speech, I felt hypocritical because I hadn't been writing much new music at all. So I tried to practice what I preached; slowing down, paying attention to meaningful things, praying, creating space. 

My duo partner Spencer Capier wrote a haunting fiddle melody called "After This," which we ended up turning into a song and a fan-sourced video (fans sent in their own photos and videos showing how they were experiencing lockdown)—all done from our respective houses in quarantine. 

Working on that song seemed to unlock something for me, and I experienced quite an intense wave of creativity, resulting in two new projects (my first in over five years.)  

Strikingly the second part of that biblical advice—to seek the welfare of the city—has become increasingly important during this COVID season as well. 

Not only in terms of following the guidelines to reduce the spread of the coronavirus, but also in terms of paying attention to the heightening tensions around racial injustice and seeking to figure out how we can best be allies. 

What is your hope for the church when the pandemic is over? 

My own church (Pacific Community Church in Cloverdale, B.C.) converted our sanctuary into a food bank while we weren't having in-person services, and there was something pretty beautiful about that.

Yet at the same time, it has surprised me how intensely I have missed singing together in that very space. 

I hope we will emerge from this season more adaptive and innovative (having learned much about how we can connect online and still "be" the Church in the absence of our normal conventions), but also more grateful for the gift of community, and more aware of our need for each other. 

Don Amero 

Don, of Winnipeg, is a roots/country musician who attends Good News Fellowship. Visit his website at https://donamero.ca/

How has the pandemic affected you? 

Once the Pandemic hit I lost all the gigs I had lined up from April to September. It was tough to lose those shows, however I have been going pretty hard in my career for over a decade and in some ways the forced "time out" was a welcome reprieve. 

I have three little children, so while I wish the pandemic had not been it has afforded me some good quality and quantity time with my family. Album sales over the last few years have been taking a hit due to the popularity of digital streaming platforms, so it wasn't much of a hit there. In fact my streaming numbers have gone up significantly this year.  

What is the financial impact? 

Financially it hasn't been as much a strain, but I attribute that to many years of hard work and the "back pay" of royalties are catching up to that work. So while for many artists it's been an extremely tough year financially, 2020 actually hasn't been that hard on my business. 

That said, that well is not an cup overflowing, so I am hoping that 2021 will see us being able to have shows again, but I believe for that, we're at the mercy of a vaccine for this COVID 19.  

What can people do to support artists during this time?  

There's quite a few ways people can support either with finances or without. A few simple ones are: playing our music on streaming platforms. At least in the country genre, those numbers can swing some radio support your way. 

Liking, sharing and engaging our social media content can go a long way in helping get our music heard. I know for me personally, I have a Christmas show coming up and it will be a virtual concert with a small fee. I'd love to see that be a thing people could get behind and support.  

What gifts or opportunities has the pandemic brought? 

I know I'm not alone here, but perhaps the best thing this season has brought me is an appreciation of the time we do have together. We all strive for connection and the loss of connection between artist and music lover is a really heavy weight right now. 

I have a feeling there's going to be some pretty epic gatherings once this virus clears and the relationship between artist and fan will be strengthened beyond what we've seen before.  

What is your hope for the church when the pandemic is over? 

My hope is that the church would focus less on itself and more so on how it can make greater positive impacts on the community around them. I think we often get stuck on the differences internally more so than focus on what we're being called to do.  

Jon Buller

Jon, of Vernon, B.C., isn’t sure what to call his musical style anymore. “I used to say ‘modern worship,’ but what does that really mean?” he asks. “I am a Christian music recording artist.” He is an ordained minister in the Christian and Missionary Alliance church of Canada. Visit his website at https://www.jonbuller.com/

How has the pandemic affected you? 

All public events were cancelled or postponed. CD sales? I have a small closet full of boxes of Cds that will be recycled someday . . . or it might take 10 years to sell to folks that still use that mode of technology to listen to music. 

What is the financial impact? 

COVID, combined with the cultural shift of technology and streaming, has been the perfect storm for artists. Viable revenue models have been virtually erased. 

Streaming revenues for artists that make their living touring and selling their music have been diminished to the point that monetizing music revenue is next to impossible unless you are experiencing mass popularity.  

What can people do to support artists during this time?  

Any artist that is ‘crowdfunding’ could receive support directly through crowdfunding; it is ’the only’ real viable business model right now. 

People expect their music ‘for free’ and music has been de-valued by technology to the point that artists and record labels can no longer establish viable ongoing business models for their success or livelihood.

What gifts or opportunities has the pandemic brought?  

COVID has required not only artists but anyone with a message, to be willing to learn to communicate their message via technology. Anyone not willing to learn or adapt will no longer have their message heard. Anyone willing to embrace technology and learn to communicate and deliver their art form in a new way will survive and even possibly thrive. 

But the question holds the challenge. Many people are not willing to see the current circumstances as being opportunities. Instead they are “waiting it out.” Those who will continue or even thrive in the future are those that are embracing the challenge and mining for the opportunities that have been presented to them. 

In my world that means investing time and money into live-streaming, video / audio, internet marketing and creating products that are exciting, educational, interesting and entertaining in the world of the arts, modern worship, visual and performance arts, and leadership.  

Also, realizing that many people need help, affirmation and encouragement in those areas, and even that presents an opportunity and business model that can be viable in the future in the area of training and education. This is a clear win-win.  I need to learn, but so does everyone else.  

What is your hope for the church when the pandemic is over? 

I hope the Church will be willing to adapt and learn.  The Church must be relentless in reflecting the Creator who gave us creativity. We must not recycle or re-deliver our offering to the world, but instead re-think creatively what the world needs and ask how we can serve the world continuing the great commission to make disciples. 

Jesus and John Wayne, or how American Evangelicals Came to Support Trump

 

I generally resist arguments that trace straight lines between events, showing how a certain cause led to a defined effect. 

Life is way too complicated and complex for simple solutions, even if they help us try to make sense of the world. 

But when it comes to how evangelicals in the U.S. ended up supporting Donald Trump for president, Kristin Kobes Du Mez, author of Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation, makes a convincing case for how and why it happened. 

Earlier this year I wrote about a webinar presentation on the book by Kobes Du Mez, a professor of American Christianity at Calvin University, a Christian Reformed university in Michigan. 

In the book—which is well-researched and informative, but also by turns depressing and angering—Kobes Du Mez traces evangelical support for Trump back to the arrival on the scene of Billy Graham in the 1950s and through the rise of the conservative evangelical right in the 1970s and beyond. 

It was during that time conservative white American evangelicals began promoting and adopting a hyper-masculine, authoritarian, patriarchal, patriotic, nationalistic, pro-military and anti-feminist approach to their faith. 

They were, she said, creating a version of Christianity in the mold of John Wayne, something tough, rough and muscular. 

It was the kind of Christianity that was led by a “warrior Jesus”—not a more traditional meek and mild saviour who spoke about peace, love and brotherhood. 

For these American evangelicals, Jesus became more Rambo than Mr. Rogers. 

This pro-Trump development can’t be traced to one person or one event. It occurred over decades through preaching, teaching, books, conferences, activism, music and other media. 

Leaders included well-known men such as James Dobson, Jerry Falwell, Franklin Graham, Tim Lahaye, and a host of TV evangelists, along with lesser-known ones like Mark Driscoll, Tony Perkins, Bill Gothard, Paul Weyrich, and many more. 

Their goal was to kindle fear in the hearts of American evangelical Christians about things like Communism, secular humanism, feminism, multilateralism, Islamic terrorism, and the erosion or religious freedom.

It was, she says, "a tried and true recipe" for success, enabling them to rally followers "to fight battles in which the fate of the nation, and their own families, seemed to hinge." 

The election of Barack Obama as president in 2008 invigorated their efforts. 

“The first African-American president, the sea-change in LGBTQ rights, the apparent erosion of religious freedom—coupled with looming demographic changes and the declining religious loyalty of their own children—heightened the sense of dread among white evangelicals,” she says. 

But the message did not need to be invented for when Obama became president; evangelical leaders, she says, had been “perfecting that pitch” for 50 years. 

And the pitch? “Evangelicals were looking for a protector, an aggressive, heroic manly-man, someone who wasn’t restrained by the values of political correctness or feminine virtues, someone who would break the rules for the right cause,” she says. 

When Donald Trump came along, he proved to be the one who embodied that vision, someone who flaunted “an aggressive, militant masculinity,” the “ultimate fighting champion for evangelicals.” 

The result of all this is that, today, Trumpism and much of conservative white evangelicalism have become one and the same. 

“For conservative white evangelicals, the ‘good news’ of the Christian Gospel has become inextricably linked to a staunch commitment to patriarchal authority, gender difference, and Christian nationalism, and all of these are intertwined with white racial identity,” she says. 

For them Trump is a throwback to a time when “rugged masculinity was forged in 1950s America, a time when all was right with the world.” 

He became “the culmination” of all their efforts and desires, a someone who represented their decades-long pursuit of a militant Christian masculinity that would make America strong and great again. 

Altogether, it resulted in their worshipping a “badass” Jesus, a tough guy who took no guff or prisoners when it came to faith—a Jesus like the Hollywood image of John Wayne.  

It was, as she puts it, a Jesus who “was over a half-century in the making. Inspired by images of heroic white manhood, evangelicals had fashioned a saviour who would lead them into battles . . . the new rugged Christ transformed Christian manhood, and Christianity itself.” 

As someone who grew up in an evangelical in the 1960s and 70s, some of what Kobe Du Mez writes feels autobiographical for me. 

The church I grew up in was influenced by some of these authors and preachers—especially Tim Lahaye, whose apocalyptic vision fueled my view of the future. 

Although I narrowly missed going to one of Bill Gothard’s Basic Youth Conflicts seminars, in my later teens the Jesus movement group I was part of was heavily influenced by his patriarchal authoritarianism—the leader was always right and could never be questioned, a stance that ended up badly for the group and also for me.

As for the book, although it is written by an academic it is not an academic book; the prose is accessible. That doesn't mean it isn't hard to read at times, what with the stories she tells of how the evangelical movement was co-opted to support Trump. 

And the last chapter, about sexual abuse and sex scandals among some evangelical leaders, is especially difficult to read; it made me sad and angry.

Looking back, Kobes Du Mez says that writing the book was a difficult and depressing experience. When her editor asked her to try to end on hopeful note, she couldn’t. 

“The best I could muster was ‘what was done can be undone,’” she says, adding the current state of affairs for American evangelicals doesn’t have to be this way forever. 

It was “not handed down by God from the beginning of time.”

Can A Pacifist Wear a Poppy?

 

Can a pacifist wear a poppy? The answer is yes—I’m a pacifist, and I wear one. A few others that I know do, too.

But many people who oppose war have ambivalent feelings about poppies. I think they’re afraid that wearing one will suggest that they are, tacitly or otherwise, supporting war and militarism.

Some compromise by wearing red buttons that say “To remember is to work for peace.” Every year Mennonite Central Committee distributes thousands of them. It’s a good message. But I think a poppy says the same thing—I’ve never met a veteran who thinks war is a good idea.

I don’t wear a poppy to celebrate war. I wear it as a sign of respect for the many men and women who sacrificed years, youth and, for some, their lives during this country’s wars.

They did not plan those wars. They did not seek them. They did what they thought was right at the time. In the same situation, I might have done the same.

I also wear a poppy for personal reasons. I wear it for my Uncle Harry, who was wounded in Europe in World War Two. Each remembrance day he would march with the other veterans to the cenotaph in my hometown, pausing for two minutes to remember the dead.

Later, he’d go the Legion and drink and reminisce and cry with his buddies, remembering the friends who never made it home.

Uncle Harry, like most vets, never talked about the war, even though I pestered him as a child. He’d just shake his head and change the subject.

I also wear the poppy for my father. Due to a medical condition, he was rejected for military service in 1944. This bothered him his whole life, especially since so many of his high school friends went overseas, and some of them were killed.

After he died, I went though his belongings. Among his prized possession I found his certificate for rejection for general service. Why did he keep it all those years? I think it was his way of proving, to himself, at least, that he was no shirker.

Maybe it was his special way of keeping faith with friends who served and died.

I wear a poppy for conscientious objectors—for those who bravely decided to go against prevailing opinion by choosing not participate in the military during this country’s wars.

During World War Two, 10,782 men did some form of alternative service on farms, in hospitals, planting trees, building roads and other things, showing there were ways other than fighting to serve their country. Over 3,000 were from Manitoba—more than any other province. 

I wear a poppy because I am a pacifist. Over my career in international relief and development, much of my work has been in response to hunger and suffering caused by war—people uprooted by conflict, in need of food, shelter and safety. 

According to the World Food Program, of the more than 800 million hungry people in the world, about 490 million, or 60 per cent, live in countries affected by conflict. Some 74 million people, or two thirds of the 113 million people facing acute hunger in the world, are located in 21 countries affected by conflict and insecurity. 

And more than 80 per cent of resources requested by UN humanitarian appeals in recent years have been for humanitarian action in conflict situations.

Finally, I wear a poppy to show that pacifists can be patriotic, too. Being against war or militarization is not to be anti-Canadian. And service to country is not reserved for those who put on a uniform.

We can all serve by volunteering, by supporting charities that help needy people here and around the world, and by promoting a vision of peace for everyone, everywhere.

That’s why I wear a poppy. Why do you wear one? 

(Originally published in the November 10, 2012 Winnipeg Free Press.)

Christian Service for Death by Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID)

As I noted in my Winnipeg Free Press column about Medical Assistance In Dying (MAID), it is becoming more acceptable among religious people. Yet there are no formal Christian liturgies or services available for those who choose the procedure.   

For the dying through MAID of John Regehr, his son, Rennie, prepared his own liturgy/service, which he has given me permission to share.

Service for the Medical Assistance In Death of John Regehr, November 7, 2019.

Prior to the service, the doctor arrived. The family was ushered out of the and John was once again asked to confirm once again that he wanted to go ahead with MAID. 

His answer: “My wings are poised. I’m ready for flight.” 

Outside the room, the family was told what would happen, the drugs involved, how they worked and in what sequence. They then rejoined their father and the service began. 

Family Blessing 

First reading: Isaiah 41:10. 

Fear not, for I am with you:

Be not dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you;

Yes, I will help you.

 

John Regehr’s Blessing for the Family

 

Second reading: Numbers 6:24-26.

 

(The ancient blessing, as written by John, and read by Rennie on his behalf as John could no longer speak.)

 

The Lord bless you

with all manner of good,

and keep you

from all manner of harm.

The Lord make his face shine upon you

and be gracious to you,

assuring you that you belong to him,

and he delights in you.

And when you stumble,

and are burdened with regrets,

the Lord will turn his face toward you

in compassion and love,

and give you peace again.

 

Scripture Reading

 

Psalm 23.

Liturgy of Committal and Blessing 

 

Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life" (John 11:25-26). “I am he that lives, and was dead,” says the LORD, “and behold I am alive forevermore. Amen” (Revelation 1:8). 

So … “Blessed are those who die in the LORD from now on. Yes, says the Spirit, they are blessed indeed, for they will rest from their hard work, for their good deeds will follow them” (Revelation 14:13). 

And “this is the promise that He has given to us, even eternal life” (1 John 2:25). 

“Can anything separate us from Christ’s love? … I am convinced that nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:35-39) 

And then, directing a question to John: 

“John, can anything separate you from the love of Christ?” 

Shaking his head emphatically, he unequivocally answered: “No!”. 

Response: “This then is our hope and this is our life. That Christ lives and will return again; and we live with him. 

Benediction 

John, go forth from this world: 

In the love of God the Father who created you,

In the mercy of Jesus Christ who redeemed you,

In the power of the Holy Spirit who strengthens you.

And as you join the communion of all the faithful who have gone before you, may you dwell this day in peace.

Holy Lord, almighty and eternal God, hear our prayers as we entrust John Regehr to you. Enfold him in the arms of your mercy, and into your eternal rest, through Jesus Christ our Lord.  

We look forward to the great resurrection at the last day when those who die in the Lord shall be raised to eternal glory and an endless life of joy and peace with God. 

We ask now that you would renew us with hope for the future. As you receive John’s spirit we pray that you would strengthen our spirits. Keep us faithful as we await the day of resurrection when we meet you face to face. 

May your Spirit give comfort to loved ones gathered here, and those who are present in spirit. Be gracious to them, comfort them, and grant them your peace. 

Now may the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God the Father, and the presence of the Holy Spirit be with you all, Amen.” 

Sending music 

At this point, the family indicated to the medical team that the drugs could be administered. Rennie then began to play one of John’s favourite hymns on his viola: Wehrlos und verlassen. (In the Rifted Rock I'm Resting.)

When it was over, the doctor leaned over and listened to his silent heartbeat. “He’s in flight,”