The next day Colleen Peters sent along the following reflection on this great prayer, written by Frederick Buechner and originally published in his book Whistling in the Dark: a Doubter’s Dictionary. If you’ve never read any of Buechner’s work, this might just inspire you to dig in a little deeper:

In the Episcopal [Anglican] order of worship, the priest sometimes introduces the Lord’s Prayer with the words, “Now, as our Saviour Christ hath taught us, we are bold to say…” The word bold is worth thinking about. We do well not to pray the prayer lightly. It takes guts to pray it at all. We can pray it in the unthinking and perfunctory way we usually do only by disregarding what we are saying.

“Thy will be done” is what we are saying. That is the climax of the first half of the prayer. We are asking God to be God. We are asking God to do not what we want but what God wants. We are asking God to make manifest the holiness that is now mostly hidden, to set free in all its terrible splendor the devastating power that is now mostly under restraint. “Thy kingdom come… on earth” is what we are saying. And if that were suddenly to happen, what then? What would stand and what fall? Who would be welcomed in and who would be thrown the hell out? Which if any of our most precious visions of what God is and of what human beings are would prove to be more or less on the mark and which would turn out to be phony as three-dollar bills? Boldness indeed. To speak those words is to invite the tiger out of the cage, to unleash a power that makes atomic power look like a warm breeze.

You need to be bold in another way to speak the second half. Give us. Forgive us. Don’t test us. Deliver us. If it takes guts to face the omnipotence that is God’s, it perhaps takes no less to face the impotence that is ours. We can do nothing without God. We can have nothing without God. Without God we are nothing.

It is only the words “Our Father” that make the prayer bearable. If God is indeed something like a father, then as something like children maybe we can risk approaching him anyway.  – Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking

 

You might notice, by the way, that Buechner writes how in the Anglican liturgy the priest often introduces the prayer by saying, “Now, as our Saviour Christ hath taught us, we are bold to say,” while at saint benedict’s table I always change the word “say” to “pray.” We are bold to pray, because to my mind such words really must be prayed, not simply spoken. It is when we pray them that they do their deep and at times unsettling work, reminding us that there is yet work to be done. And thankfully, this God of ours knows us the way a parent knows a child…

Whistling in the Dark is a great introduction to Buechner’s writing, as is a similar collection of short pieces called Wishful Thinking: a seeker’s ABC. You can also watch an excerpt from a film on Buechner’s life and work by clicking here.

Jamie Howison

Behind Gord’s song is a famous quote from the writings of a fourteenth-century mystic and theologian, Julian of Norwich. In her one book, The Revelations of Divine Love, Julian reflects on a series of sixteen visions or “showings” that she received over two days in 1373. In The Revelations, Julian writes of how at the age of thirty she experienced these visions, and then shortly thereafter moved permanently into a cell attached to the parish church of St. Julian and St. Edward in Coniston, England. In everything God revealed to her, Julian wrote, “Love was our Lord’s meaning. And I saw for certain, both here and elsewhere, that before ever he made us, God loved us, and that his love has never slackened, nor ever shall.”

It was in light of this that she could write her most famous line, “Sin is behovely, but all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” That word “behovely” means something between “necessary” and “inevitable,” and what she is saying here is that sin simply is a part of the world as we know it. Sin is a source of pain and suffering, yet it is can also be a path to self-knowledge, in that insofar as we become aware of our own brokenness and failings, we may well be moved to seek God.

Yet Julian is clear that sin will not have the final say, for in God “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” As she saw in her first vision—in which God held out to her what appeared to be a hazelnut, which she realized symbolized the whole of the created universe—“the world exists, both now and for ever, because God loves it… everything owes its existence to the love of God.” Her posture, then, is not one of naïveté or of shallow optimism, but rather it is one of foundational trust.

And it is that kind of trust that informs Gord’s song.

• To listen to a basic recording of song, taken live during worship, click the arrow:

Saturday February 4 will find us in the home of Lorne and Sigrid Penner, 799 Waterloo Street (just a bit south of Grant Avenue), for an evening of music with Kerri Woelke and Jon Lawless.

Kerri Woelke is an accomplished musician whose debut CD released through Avante Records took her across Canada numerous times and received two Covenant award nominations,  as well as a Western Canadian Music Award nomination for Outstanding Christian Recording. This recording resulted in Kerri being signed to Signpost Music for her second album, Where We Were, which in turn led to an 8-month tour opening for Steve Bell. Where We Were used accomplished musicians Michael Longoria (percussion – Patty Griffin), Ryan Boldt (“Deep Dark Woods”), Steve Bell, Matt Epp and “Last Ditch On The Left” duo partner Brent Warren. Alongside of these other recordings, she was also a contributor to our Beautiful Mercy project. Currently working as part of the neo-folk duo Last Ditch on the Left, we’re delighted that Kerri will be with us for this event.

Jon Lawless is a regular at saint ben’s. He records and performs as part of First Rate People, though for this one he’ll be working solo and acoustic. For a taste of that side of John’s music, give a listen to his song “It’s Never Not Happening (Pt. 1)”. You can also click here to take a look at a story about some recording Jon did in All Saints this past autumn. In Jon’s own words, “The gift of youth is the wide-eyed innocence that accompanies it.” The desire to explore their vast musical palette is what drives Jon’s “First Rate People” project. Formed almost immediately out of high school in small town Ontario before scattering across the country, it didn’t take long for First Rate People’s world to be embraced by the one we live in today, garnering positive press in The Guardian and The Village Voice.

There is a suggested donation of $15 for the evening, which gets you a couple of sets of great live music, a bit of food and drink, and some very fine company… but we’d like to get a sense of how many people will coming, so do send an RSVP through our contact form.

17 and Crazy: A collection of thought, song, and art created by the adolescent imagination, presented by Davis Plett and friends in collaboration with saint benedict’s table

Friday January 20

7:30PM

Aqua Books, 274 Garry Street

In the words of G.K. Chesterton, “Youth is pre-eminently the period in which a man can be lyrical, fanatical, poetic.” Join an eclectic mix of young people from the next generation of creatives as they attempt to be all three. In essence, “17 and Crazy” is an evening of youthful musings on Life, the Universe, and, well, pretty much Everything. Featuring performances and presentations by Davis Plett, Nanau Loewen, Elyse Loewen, Nadine Plourde, Shayn Martens, Kaitlyn Malazdrewich, Noah Falk, Cale Plett, Jase Falk, Shaylyn Plett, and Emily Baron.

Advance tickets are only $5, and can be reserved by contacting us.

Back in 1993 when Bruce Cockburn first released his album Christmas I was intrigued to discover that he’d chosen to record the well-known “Huron Carol” in its original language. Composed in 1643 by the Jesuit missionary Jean de Brébeuf and widely recognized as being the earliest Canadian Christmas carol, many of us have sung the carol—“Twas in the Moon of Wintertime”—in Jesse Edgar Middleton’s familiar 1926 version. I remember being quite delighted when I first heard Cockburn’s Huron-language version, partly because at the time I was working with a predominantly aboriginal community at Marymound School. How wonderful to be able to share this version with those girls.

Well, if I was intrigued to discover this recording, I was quite taken aback when during the course of a CBC radio broadcast I heard Cockburn read a direct English translation of Brébeuf’s Huron verses. There was no sign of the familiar “lodge of broken bark” with the child wrapped in “ragged robe of rabbit skin,” and no mention of “hunter braves” or of “chiefs from far” bringing “gifts of fox and beaver pelt.” The verses Cockburn offered in this radio broadcast sounded far less quaint and picturesque, and I recall thinking at the time that these were words meant to be sung on the Feast of the Epiphany more than at Christmas.

Being that this was all happening before the days of e-mail, I quickly wrote to Cockburn’s management company, asking if I might get a copy of the translation. In short order a photocopied document arrived, accompanied by a hand-written note wishing me all the best in my work at Marymound.

I pored over the direct English translation rendered by the Huron language scholar John Steckley, and quickly concluded that this was indeed an Epiphany hymn. The carol’s third verse introduces the figures of the magi, or “elders”:

It is in the fifth and six verses, however, that the sense of “epiphany” or “manifestation” is really emphasized:

These words celebrate the adoption of the Gentiles as sons and daughters of God through the Incarnation. And yes, some might bristle at the words in Brébeuf’s first verse as being disrespectful and dismissive of indigenous Huron religious life—“Behold, the spirit who had us as prisoners has fled / Do not listen to it, as it corrupts the spirits of our minds.” Yet I have very vivid memories of the Dakota Elder Gladys Cook making a very similar observation when speaking to those girls at Marymoud about how a trust in Jesus could stand against the fear that often creeps into our spiritual lives.

In that is found the deepest meaning of Epiphanytide.

Jamie Howison

• For the full text of John Steckley’s translation from the Huron, click here.
• Thanks to Bramwell Ryan, for the photograph of light in the darkness.

The Ellice Theatre was filled almost to its 230-seat capacity, meaning that after covering the cost of the musicians and factoring in the theatre rental and advertising, just shy of $900 was donated to Agape Table. And thanks to the generosity of several people from saint benedict’s table, we were able to make tickets available to 30 people who otherwise would not have been able to attend. Tickets were distributed to Agape Table volunteers and patrons, as well as to a circle of people who relate to House Blend Ministries.

The evening was also significant in raising the profile of the work of Agape Table. Not only were informational brochures distributed to concert-goers, but several people voiced an interest in getting connected as volunteers. That’s a good thing.

Thanks to Jaylene for making this connection in the first place, and to Don for his commitment to the wider community. Thanks, too, to Kev Wood for giving us permission to use his photographs from the event.

“By first CD I mean I have recorded and/or performed on many CD’s (as well as records and tapes) but this CD is mine in almost all ways including using only my own money. No arts grants, no fundraisers. By first solo recording I mean I played all the instruments, wrote all the arrangements and engineered the whole recording and mastering process (as well as the cover art). By Christmas album I mean songs that are themed around that time of year Advent AND Christmas.”

Rob chose to move a bit off the beaten track in his selections for this one. Probably the most familiar song is the opening track, Veni Veni Emmanuel, the well-known Advent carol. Also included are the 17th century hymn “Angels of the Realm of Glory,” the 14th century song “Bring a Torch Jeanette Isabella”, and the 20th century song by Johnny Marks, “A Caroling We Go”.

Rob freely admits that “the settings for each song are very different and a reflection of my musical life playing every style imaginable on a variety of instruments.”  With his tongue planted firmly in his cheek, Rob comments that, ”if you are looking for a local artist, performing songs you may never have heard of in styles you may not like than this is album for you.”

I love Christmas. I always have and hopefully always will. One thing that is not surprising is that I love most of the music. Sure the well known ones are great but I also love the lesser known ones as well. Nat Cole’s version of ‘A Cradle in Bethlehem’ sends a chill up my spine and Mary Kay Beall’s ‘Who Would Send a Baby’ chokes me up. The opening line of “Who would send a baby, to heal a world in pain?” sums up what I love about the Christmas story.

Every year I hope to get gigs where it is feasible and appropriate for me to play Christmas music. I like the Santa/Reindeer/Winter Weather/Snowman songs fine, but I really feel my way through songs about the birth of the Christ child. That child was born with stigma, being born into poverty and out of wed lock. That child grew to be a man and died with stigma, being nailed to a cross. In the short time in-between he became the most influential person on the planet. Over 2,000 years later and we are still trying to get a full grasp of what he said and did.

Here’s the deal, we were all once that baby. Weak, helpless and, hopefully, loved intensely by a few people. Full of love, mystery, talent and potential we all were and still are.

So I’ll admit I get a little worked up winding my way through “O’ Little Town of Bethlehem”.  Sometimes I forget the importance of emotion in playing music. I still think intonation, time and technique are cornerstones of music performance and ‘feel’ alone doesn’t cut it but a chill in my spine or a tear in my eye goes a long way.

Robert Burton

For more information on the CD, which is currently available in Winnipeg at both McNally’s and at River Heights Music, simply click here.

Greetings from Dunedin, New Zealand! I trust all is well at saint ben’s and that friends old and new are thriving there. I recall with tremendous affection the six months I spent with you as Deacon. The music, the liturgy, and the fine preaching were seriously refreshing. Anyhow, I have written another book. It is called Ethics in the Presence of Christ (London & New York: T&T Clark). It explores the contemporary ministry of Jesus Christ–what he can be said to be doing–and what difference this makes for ethics. I certainly enjoyed writing it, and would hope that you would be nourished in the faithfulness of Christ by reading it. Blessings and keep in touch.

Yours, Chris Holmes

Of Chris’s book, John Webster of the University of Aberdeen wrote, “This is an elegant and absorbing essay in moral theology, the fruit of sustained reflection on the presence of Jesus Christ as the principle of human life before God.” Joseph Mangina of Wycliffe College observed that while “much of what passes for ‘Christian ethics’ today fails to rise above the level of asking ‘what would Jesus do?’, Chris’s book “constitutes a frontal assault on this way of thinking. Taking John’s gospel as his point of departure, Holmes would instead have us ask ‘who is Jesus and what is he doing?’

We’ve also got a couple of podcasts  of really solid lectures Chris gave as part of our ideaExchange series. His first session with us was The One Who Threw a Spoke into the Wheel: Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Resistance to Hitler. In what amounted to something of a sequel, we also offer Christianity is basically amoral: Bonhoeffer on ethics.

Although I really don’t enjoy waiting for many things in life (who does?), the ‘waiting’ aspect of Advent is something I anticipate each year. Advent waiting doesn’t focus alone on Jesus Christ’s return at the end of time, but also entails a time of waiting and watching for Christ to appear in my own life today. And He does, at times in astonishing ways if I have eyes to see it.  In Frederick Buechner’s words, “I look at what there is to be seen in the world and in myself and hope, trust, believe against all evidence to the contrary that beneath the surface I see there is vastly more that I cannot see.”

Seven years ago during Advent, I began a two month wait for brain biopsy results, and with each day of waiting the fear grew that I wouldn’t live to see another Christmas with Len and the kids. They were critical weeks for me, my mortality crashing into my consciousness every day, and many nights.

Fear

Wells up from below…

Fear of the unknown ….

Fear of the known.

Gag to quell it.

Gulps of tears to drown the fears.

The key of release from the stifling cage … Breathe.

 

 

But through the days of Christmas and through to mid February, a peculiar peace settled in my heart, and our home, and at times the memory of it brings me tears. Seven years later the crisis of having to consider tumours and cancer is long past, but the peace has not passed. The peace that carried me through crisis seven years ago, has carried me through chronic illness in the ensuing years providing a ‘chronic’ wellness … a steady presence that permeates all areas of my life, so that my physical decline doesn’t define who I am. That presence, the Spirit of Christ, is powerful and paves my way with a peaceful perspective that colours everything. Lewis’s words in The Weight of Glory ring true for me. “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen; not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”

I’ve recently read a book, The Gift of Pain by Dr. Paul Brand, world renowned hand surgeon and leprosy specialist, that served to counter encroaching self-pity. The book is the fruit of Brand’s many years of working with people who suffered from pain and people who suffered from the lack of it. He worked closely with people groups from England, America, and India and their diverse responses to pain informed his thoughts over many years. Though not a pain expert, Dr. Brand’s vast experience allows him to write about managing pain across the board, not just the pain associated with leprosy. He chose the form of a memoir for his book, “with all its loops and detours because that is how I learned about pain: not systematically but experientially. Pain does not occur in the abstract – no sensation is more personal, or more importunate.” Dr. Brand’s book came out of the conviction that, in his words, “Most of us will one day face severe pain… and the attitude we cultivate in advance may well determine how suffering will affect us when it does strike.” The book was a tonic for me, and reading it refreshed my perspectives on several fronts, and perhaps most importantly made me grateful that I’m challenged by Multiple Sclerosis  rather than by a much harsher neurological disease like leprosy.

Living with MS, I experience pain in my feet, hands, legs, arms, face and eyes and parts of my back. Besides the surface, or skin pain, my neuropathy also manifests itself at a muscular level, causing weakness and cramp-like pain deep in my muscles, mainly my legs and arms. My legs, more so the left, feel like logs and a slight limp at times seems to be how my body is dealing with this. And yet I’m still running, without a limp, I’ve not fallen recently, and for this joy in my life I give God thanks! My chief grievance is the fact that my neuropathic pain is without respite.

C.S. Lewis was no stranger to pain, directly and vicariously, to both physical and emotional pain and I appreciate his perspective from A Grief Observed:

What is grief compared with physical pain? Whatever fools may say, the body can suffer twenty times more than the mind. The mind has always some power of evasion. At worst, the unbearable thought only comes back and back, but the physical pain can be absolutely continuous. Grief is like a bomber circling round and dropping its bomb each time the circle brings it overhead; physical pain is like the steady barrage on a trench in World War One, hours of it with no let-up for a moment. Thought is never static; pain often is.   (C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed)

 

I thought Lewis’s trench analogy characteristically incisive; and true and tender his perspective on God’s apparent silence when Lewis questions Him about suffering.

When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of “No answer.” It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, “Peace child; you don’t understand.”

There certainly are fragile days when God seems silent, and dangerously distant from my plight, but the sense of well-being remains even so and I am grateful that His peace keeps pace with the challenge of living with the chronic as it did with the challenge of facing the critical.

 “By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”  – Luke 1:78-79

In the Joy of the Season,

Colleen Peters

Colleen Peters is married to Len, and is a mother of two girls and twin boys. She taught at Winnipeg’s Mennonite Brethren Collegiate Institute before beginning to raise a family, and as her children grew she returned to teaching on a part-time basis. Neurological anomalies surfaced in 2004, and she was eventually diagnosed with Primary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis, the condition with which she continues to live.

On Friday December 16 we’re presenting a concert event, in support of the work of Agape Table. With tongue firmly in cheek, the evening is titled “Amero Little Christmas,” features performances by Don Amero and our own Jaylene Johnson. It takes place at 8:00PM at the Ellice Theatre, 587 Ellice Avenue, with the doors opening at 7:30.

Tickets at the door are $15, but can also be purchased in advance either at the church or directly through Don’s site for only $12.

And while Jaylene Johnson is certainly no stranger to the saint ben’s community, just who is Don Amero? He’s a multi-award winning musician, whose work is informed both by his own life experience and by his deep faith. Here’s an excerpt from the biographical sketch posted on his website:

From the notoriously tough North End of Winnipeg, Don faced his share of adversity growing up. With poverty, gangs, drugs and violence all around, fortunately, his life was tempered by love, support, and faith in a Greater Power. Shaped and molded by his own experiences, Don’s music now carries both the depth of hardship and luminosity of hope. For all who take the time to listen, his message is one of encouragement, positivity and beauty, despite the harshness of the world. Don’s desire to take a serious shot at music was ignited with the unexpected success of his debut album – fittingly called Change Your Life. Released in the fall of 2006, it garnered the #1 spot on the National Aboriginal Countdown and received a total of seven nominations for the Aboriginal Peoples Choice Music Awards (APCMAs). In February of 2009, Don released his second album Deepening, which saw two more singles climb to #1 on the National Aboriginal Countdown. Deepening also earned him Aboriginal Songwriter of the Year at the Canadian Folk Music Awards, Male Artist of the Year at the Canadian Aboriginal Music Awards, and two more nominations at the APCMAs. His professionalism and perseverance caught the attention of a local radio host, who bestowed Don with the James Brown Hardest Working Musician Award. While this one was meant to be a joke, in reality, it rings pretty true!

 

And if you can’t come to the concert, consider purchasing tickets to share with some of the volunteers and patrons of Agape Table. If you’re looking to do that, just contact us and we’ll put it in motion.