Life

Mary Fontaine and Hummingbird Ministries

Kathleen Bolton

Mary Fontaine founded Hummingbird Ministries in 2004 as a Presbyterian ministry of healing for the Aboriginal people of British Columbia's West Coast. And she was ordained this past spring – see the July/August Record – in Mistawasis, Sask., where she is from. Her ordination gives her new opportunities in her ministry. Many have asked her to baptize them, their children or their grandchildren. Now she can – the first person she baptised was her own grandson. For those already baptized as children, Fontaine will plan rededication services. (The Presbyterian Church in Canada doesn't advocate re-baptism.) Fontaine is excited about introducing the sacrament of communion to her Aboriginal circles. Feasting is an important part of First Nations communities, so communion is likely to become an important part of worship.

A Shared Humanity

afaiz

I was speaking at a church about my experiences in Afghanistan, showing some of the hundreds of photos I took on that trip. Near the end of my talk I had a photo of a little girl holding on to her father. A typical photo – one that could be taken of my daughter as she suddenly becomes shy in the company of her parent's strange friends. With that image on the screen I said one thing I had learned from Afghanistan was that despite all the differences in culture, locale, history, economics and much else, at the heart of us, we share a common humanity. That children cling to their parents when strangers come to the door, partially curious about the big world out there, while holding on to the safety of the domestic circle.

Mrs. Muddle’s Example, Part 1

Phil Callaway

I was only four when Mrs. Muddle adopted me for a week. With my mother in the hospital and my father needing help, she must have seen me pulling my wagon complete with a cargo of grasshoppers along 8th Avenue on "Prairie Heights," looking sad and forlorn. And so she took me in. That's what neighbors did in those days. Although I may have been a handful, Mrs. Muddle smiled a lot during that week. A four-year-old doesn't remember much. But he remembers a smile. I wasn't her first child. She had five others. But none of them seemed to mind my intrusion.

Properly Equipped

davidwebber

Last October, we were driving home from our house church in Williams Lake on a Sunday afternoon. Just before we got to our turnoff on Highway 97, just before the infamous 127 Mile corners, two brand new Smart Cars came up behind us and passed us. They must have been doing at least 120 kilometres per hour because we were sifting along pretty fast ourselves. Each car was painted with logos of several different sponsors. Their little motors were screaming as they passed us on their way to some promotional event. Each driver seemed to be pumping on the pedals for all he was worth. And they were travelling about three Smart Car lengths apart too, which is really close.

People are People

afaiz

After having watched 32 international movies over 10 days during the Montreal Film Festival, where I was a member of the Ecumenical Jury, I came away with only the most banal observation: People are people, everywhere on the planet.

Raining Relatives

Phil Callaway

This past summer my wife's family had a reunion.
I wasn't going to attend this year. I had other plans. Plans to go fishing. Plans for peace, tranquility and bass. When I shared my feelings with Ramona, she had some feelings of her own. "I grew up with these people," she said. "You go fishing and you might as well just take your parka and stay the winter." I decided to take her advice.

Captive to the Bull

davidwebber

The young cowboy looked like death warmed over. His face was pale, his eyes sunken into black holes, his walk revealing constant pain and his facial expression locked somewhere between terror and dread. That's not what made him stand out though. Lots of rodeo cowboys look just like that, particularly before getting on their ride. What made this guy stand out were his superstitious incantations, which made him a bull rider.

Keep Things Right

Phil Callaway

I've always wanted to write something that would last forever, so I signed a mortgage. We were told that building a house would not only sink our bank account, it would stifle our marriage. But one of the reasons both are still intact is that Ramona has never been one to ask for the moon. In fact, as it turned out, I was usually the one saying, "Honey, let's put a marble staircase here," and she would say, "Phil, have you looked at our chequing account lately? We can't even afford marbles."

The Real Agenda

afaiz

On the last day in Ottawa at the 134th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church commissioners were told there was good news and bad news. Good news: all business was completed – recommendations, overtures, reports all done. Bad news: there was still an agenda and the assembly had to continue. Above the speaker's head on a large screen was the agenda that was proving to be the bad news and forcing the assembled to remain in court: presentations by the Young Adult Representatives and the student representatives from the three colleges.

Privelege of Parenthood

Phil Callaway

I have the flu. Symptoms include everything from voice loss to a lack of enough physical stamina to hold up a paperback. Painfully, I muster up enough energy to reach for the remote control.

Summer Book Club : Prophets in the Pulpit

William Klempa

This is a superb collection of 18 essays by Dr. Joseph C. McLelland. They span a half-century and cover a variety of topics grouped under three main headings: Theology and Ministry, Theology and the Reformed Tradition and Theology and Canadian Society. Most of the essays were written during McLelland's 50-year association with The Presbyterian College, Montreal, and his almost equally long association with McGill University where he occupied the J. W. McConnell Chair in Philosophy of Religion. A witty, lighter take on the history of The Presbyterian College entitled Adventures in P-C Land: A Saurian Testament has happily been included as an appendix. The essays are written in McLelland's lively, engaging style and are a delight to read.

Up Agreeable Disagreement

davidwebber

A couple of years back, a red squirrel moved into our doghouse. He is a charming, cheeky little fella and I like him very much. Shortly after moving in, he filled our large, insulated doghouse with cones and twigs and built a tunnel system under the entire fenced dog run. I think the tunnel system is filled with cones as well. I am not sure why he did this, because he appears to dine out almost exclusively at our perpetually stocked bird feeders.

Summer Book Club : Unexpected Grace

Peter Coutts

“What does it take for a congregation truly to know change in its life?” This is a question being asked in many Presbyterian congregations today. The title of Peter Bush's new book, In Dying We Are Born, points to his answers. As he writes, “The congregation cannot give itself life, cannot make growth happen, and cannot stem the slide to death. The ability to do all of those things belongs to God alone … The church must therefore humble itself to the point of death, and then and only then will it find itself raised to life by the power of God.” In other words, faithful, meaningful and significant new life can be granted by God only to congregations willing to die to the way they have been.

Called to Be

Ken Macquarrie

Whenever I meet new people in my day-to-day life, our conversation usually begins with typical small talk about the weather or something else generally trivial. That is until the other asks “So, what do you do?”