Seven years ago in an editorial for this magazine, I quoted the following passage from Prof. Reg Bibby’s then latest book, Restless Churches. “I am convinced,” he wrote, “that the resources and the will exist for ministry to take place that touches people who are not actively involved in the nation’s churches. … What is required, however, is a clear-cut strategy that is informed by sound research and sound congregational input.”

Icebergs are about 90 per cent underwater. Among other things, this means it takes considerable effort to change their course. Because these facts are commonly known, people who help organizations change direction sometimes describe the resistance and other pressures an organization may expect as the “change management iceberg.”

The change management iceberg identifies the “underwater” promoters and opponents of change, and describes other pressures that will be applied beneath the surface of the organization, so to speak, to the visible, articulated vision of the leadership.

It's all about relationships.

When Henri Nouwen's book The Wounded Healer was published in 1979, it was met with a resounding “Yes!” from many clergy and candidates for ordination because it spoke to their conviction that they were not meant to be authorities dispensing doctrine and dogma but spiritual guides with deep empathy for their fellow wanderers in the faith journey.

Welcome to the 133rd year of publication of the Presbyterian Record. It's still fall as I write this – despite the snow – but we already have a full line-up of stories and features for 2009 – not to mention covering the news as it happens.

To all those readers who were surprised and offended in any way to receive a recent mailing from an insurance company in a Presbyterian Record envelope, my profound apology for not having adequately explained the circumstances.

I look at a piece of Zimbabwe almost every day. The slightly abstract mother and child carved in black springstone radiate extraordinary love and tenderness and is probably my most cherished piece of art gathered from foreign reporting.

The idea of the shrinking "humanitarian space" for refugees is a common theme in international discussions about refugee issues. I prefer to call the condition our shrinking humanitarian heart. Like other heart diseases it sneaks up on us without notice until one day it hits us hard. Our humanitarian heart has been in a sad condition for a while, but after Sept. 11, 2001, we got a real picture of its shrinkage.

To all those readers who were surprised and offended in any way to receive a recent mailing from an insurance company in a Presbyterian Record envelope, my profound apology for not having adequately explained the circumstances.

Here's the scenario: New neighbours move in next to you in southern Alberta. Their car sports a Pittsburgh Penguins decal. You are a Calgary Flames fan. How do you welcome them?

Let's be honest, this issue does not have a light summer reading list! There are two things one say can about that. One is that if we don't highlight some of these books for you, we're pretty sure no one else will. The other is that there is increasing evidence that mainline Christians are looking to go deeper in their faith – and that ultimately means exploring theology.

The timing was surreal. Remembering the Children: An Aboriginal and Church Leaders' Tour to Prepare for Truth and Reconciliation concluded mid-March. A week later, Ontario judge Patrick Smith sentenced six leaders from Kitchenuhmaykoosib Inninuwug (Big Trout Lake First Nation) in Northern Ontario to six-months' jail for contempt of court. Their crime? Failure to abide by a court-ordered injunction aimed at preventing them from peacefully protesting against mining exploration on their traditional lands.

Forty years ago I remember doing elementary school projects on pollution, cutting out pictures from Time and the other news magazines that came into our house.

Jesus wouldn't have said things like “take your light out from underneath that basket and let it shine” or “move into all the world and make disciples” if he was content with a church plan of maintenance or gradual decline. God wants our churches growing and alive.

I'll never forget the first time I encountered homeless people begging on the streets. I was a student visiting Rome during an Easter vacation and walking down the Via Del Corso in the heart of the city's shopping district.

At one point, as we were working on the cover of this issue, we had a photograph of some worshippers with the title The New Evangelicals, referring to a new thrust of evangelicalism in the United States on social issues, particularly poverty.

Christmas is the time when we celebrate the Prince of Peace. But few people in this world live in real peace. What are we to do about it?

Authority comes in at least two guises. The first is given to a person by an organization through position and responsibility. The second is an inner gift or charism. Rev. Carey Nieuwhof was given authority by the Presbyterian Church when he was ordained a minister of word and sacrament and called to Trinity, Oro. The latter is a gift he has in spades: Tall, eloquent and bright, he is a charismatic presence leading worship.

A few weeks ago I spotted a small story in the newspaper about an imam in Lebanon issuing a fatwa banning so-called honour killings—the murder of a close female relative by a male for an alleged sexual crime.

Reading an issue of the Presbyterian Record such as this one leaves me with such mixed emotions: joyous amazement at the vitality and accomplishments of youth in their church and community, and frustrated bewilderment that despite their proven abilities, some of them find their voices are limited or shut out altogether in the church's decision-making bodies. As one writer (p. 20) puts it: