Emma reflects on stepping into a new year

Enjoy this reflection from 2nd year student, and Ministry Assistant, Emma Hutchinson. Also, Emma is leading a small group on Mondays at 2:00. This group will be taking a deeper look at Romans and wondering about its message for our time. If you are a King’s student, email Tim Wood @ tim.wood@kingsu.ca, to join Emma’s group!

Emma Hutchinson

It’s the first day of classes and it’s so wonderful to be back! It may look a little (or a lot) different, but once again we have the opportunity to be on campus or online, taking courses and seeing our friends and professors. Since March, I have been realizing more and more what a blessing it is to be here, and how much I took that for granted last year. Throughout my education I have often been reminded of how blessed I am to be able to devote leisure to learning—that I have the free time to devote to studying something that interests me—but being deprived of the opportunity to go to in-person classes at the end of last semester made me realize just what a gift it is to be here. After all, at what other point in my life will I be able to devote so much time to studying the things I love in the company of so many like-minded people? Chances are I won’t have a season like this again in my life. It is making me realize just how valuable this time is.

            As a university student, I sometimes struggle to be intentional with my time and have balance in my life. It is so easy to spend so much time studying that I ignore my friends—or to spend so much time with my friends that I ignore my homework. Even if I get the balance between those right, it can be a challenge to keep up with spiritual disciplines. After all, my schedule changes every semester, I’m extremely busy, and sometimes I just forget to sit down and spend time in prayer. I struggle to be just as intentional about having my daily quiet time with God as I am about finishing my homework on time—but also to make sure that my relationship with God isn’t reduced to an item on a to-do list.

            That is one reason why I’m excited to be joining the ministry assistant team this year. While I see my role as a servant leader, serving others and pointing them toward Christ, I also see this as a great opportunity for me to learn and grow in my own faith, becoming more intentional in growing in my relationship with God. The beginning of a new school year is a great time to renew commitments, and make a habit out of walking with Christ. I’m especially excited to go through the book of Romans as a community this year, because the Christian life is not meant to be lived alone, but walked in community. I’m hoping to learn from the insights of students, staff, and faculty as we meet on Wednesdays for our larger gatherings, and in smaller groups throughout the week. My hope is that this greater focus on Scripture will be inspiring for the King’s community, and will foster discussions all week and all semester long.

            I will admit that as a new MA I’m a little nervous. This is the first time I’ve done anything quite like this, and all the unknowns can be very nerve-wracking. I’m grateful to be supported by such a great team, but also somewhat fearful of following this new calling that God has given me.

            I do know that I’m not the only one trying something new this year. Many of you are new students, adjusting to your first year of university classes. Many of you have just moved into residence, or are trying online classes for the first time. Staff and faculty are adapting to new ways of working and teaching. Many of you are facing other challenges or opportunities that are bringing change, possibly unwanted, into your lives. This is a time when it’s going to be really important to give each other grace and be patient with each other, and I’m confident that the King’s community is up to the challenge. My first year at King’s, only last year, was amazing, mainly because I was surrounded by such a great and supportive community. I found great friends in residence, through campus ministries, and other places. My hope for new students this year is that they will be able to experience the great community that makes King’s unique, despite the strange times we are experiencing. That is something that makes me really excited to be an MA, because I get to be a small part of making that happen.

            So welcome, or welcome back! I’m so glad you’re a part of this community, and I hope you’ll dive in and join us in studying Romans this year. None of us knows what this year will bring, but we do know the God we serve, and that is something we can hold onto, in spite of our nervousness and fear. May we have a semester of hope!

“The Next Right Thing” with Witty Sandle!

Thank you Witty Sandle for this great book review!  I am adding it to my list.  I especially appreciate your “final thought” at the end of the review.  

To any King’s people reading this review, please take this as an invitation to do what Witty has done for us and let us know what you think about what you are reading.

Respond to Witty in the comment section below if you are so moved.

Peace to you all today.


book review: “the next right thing” by emily p. freeman – shannan ...



Book Review

“The Next Right Thing. A Simple, Soulful Practice for Making Life Decisions.”

By Emily Freeman.

 What decisions have you made today?

Did your alarm go off, kicking you out of bed?  Did you choose toast or cereal for breakfast or skip it altogether? Decisions, decisions, decisions. Big or small, they require a degree of effort in their execution. Clearly, choosing your morning meal is not the same as choosing your major, and starting or ending a relationship carries more weight than what to have for supper. Nevertheless, all these scenarios beg the question, how do we make decisions?

“What if the way we make decisions is equally as important as the decisions we make? What if choice is one of the primary avenues of our spiritual formation?”  (Freeman. 17).

Let me introduce you to a wonderful book by Emily Freeman called “The Next Right Thing. A Simple, Soulful Practice for Making Life Decisions.” The title itself tells you that this is not your usual top-five-decision-making-tips list. There is plenty of helpful material of that ilk freely available and if you want some quick strategies, go ahead and google. This book gives us something different. I came across it when I was listening to Emily being interviewed on Suzanne Stabile’s “The Enneagram Journey Podcast.”[1] The two discuss Emily’s decision-making style through the lens of her personality type, (she is a 4 for those who know enneagram) and the wisdom found in the book is a focal point of their conversation.

What’s the central message? Let’s turn to Emily’s voice. “The magic is in the word “next” and not “right.”” This, she says, has proved to be a life-saving insight for her. Like Emily, we have all at some point, been overwhelmed with too much information, too many options and too many external or inner expectations, leading to paralysis. Like Emily, we have experienced that gut-level anxiety that comes with the fear of taking the wrong path, ushering in regrets upon regrets. And like Emily, we have all longed for lightening-in-the-sky signs that bring us clear direction. What Emily does in her book is provide gentle counsel that helps us to slow down, quieten the voices and step back so we can discern how to respond to whatever is before us. This book is part storytelling, captivating us with illustrations from Emily’s real-life examples and part contemplative guide with easy-to-follow practices at the end of every short chapter. You can read it cover to cover, starting with chapter 1, “Do The Next Right Thing,” and ending with chapter 24, “Wait With Hope.” Or you can scan the chapter titles and head right to the one that seems to chime with your situation.  Juggling with competing choices? Then chapter 8, “Know What You Want More” could help you out. Wondering how the wisdom of others can bring clarity? Try chapter 15, “Gather Co-Listeners.” You will find some excellent pointers. There is also an accompanying website and podcast[2] hosted by Emily which is worth checking out – a great resource for those of us suffering from decision-making burnout! This is a book to be savored and read meditatively. It’s a book to buy and keep on your shelf because you will want to return to it time and time again. It’s practical, it’s reassuring, and it’s dedicated to “anyone who’s ever made a pro/con list in the middle of the night,”[3] which is all of us.

A final thought. How might a book like this come to our aid in this covid-19 season? I return to the title. As we are bombarded with information and advice, sometimes conflicting, and as we grapple with our fears, past, present and/or future, let’s pause, plant our feet on the ground beneath us and taking a deep breath, do the next right thing.

[1] https://www.theenneagramjourney.org/podcast/2019/episode57

[2] https://emilypfreeman.com/

[3] Dedication page of Emily’s book.

Thinking about Worship with Dr. Mike Ferber!

I had some technical difficulties last week with our Community in Quarantine podcast, so I thought now would be a great time to link to my friend Rev. Jonathan Crane’s podcast interview with our own Mike Ferber!

Mike is a great friend, a caring professor, and thoughtful scholar.  He joined Jonathan to, among other things, talk about Jamie Smith’s book, “You are What you Love.”  Jamie is a prodigious writer and was an I.S. speaker at King’s over a decade ago.  Interestingly, I did a directed study looking at spiritual formation with King’s grad Paul Batz a few years ago and he recently came across this book and wrote me a facebook message saying this, “Hey Tim! Have you read this book or recommended it to your students? It’s amazing. Wish it had been written so I could have read it during our study of spiritual formation.”  

If you are interested in what “worship in all of life” might look like, take a listen to this podcast linked below and possibly check out Jamie’s book.  (Also, if you are looking for an Anglican Church close to King’s, check out St. Augustine’s where Jonathan pastors.)

Ferber interview

James K.A. Smith's new book addresses the power of habit | Spark ...


Mike also maintains an incredible blog where he is regularly reviewing books.  After Easter he reviewed Andy Crouch’s book Playing God (Andy is another former I.S. speaker).  Check it out here:

Ferber Blogpost – Playing God

“Ubuntu” a reflection from Anji Wijewardane!

Enjoy this reflection from Anji as you head into your weekend.  I am struck by how relevant and important the message is for our King’s community at this moment.   Respond as you are so moved in the comments.

Our podcast interview for this week was supposed to be with King’s grad Olejuru Anozie.  We had a great conversation earlier this week, but the Zoom recording didn’t convert…I am still working on it, because I think her stories from her time at King’s, as well as what she has been up to in the last year, will be encouraging for many of us.


Wow, the unpredictability of life! Doesn’t it really make us humble by showing us our true place as humans in God’s creation? Nevertheless, every time can be a time of gratitude. Every time can be a time of hope. Every time can be a time of reflection.

I would like to share my favorite word with you today. Initially, my favorite word was “Hakuna Matata”, it means ‘no worries, for the rest of your life’… (kudos to you if were humming it in your head as you were reading it). But clearly, it is not true. We are human, and we worry about all sorts of things throughout our entire lives. While worrying may not be a big part of our ‘generally abundant’ lives, this situation has led us to worry in many ways. Through these three weeks of the pandemic, now we get a glimpse in a way, of how some people in different parts of the world have been living their entire lives! But let’s be honest, self-isolation and running short of some toilet paper, isn’t that bad.

Anyway, back to the point; my favorite word now is “Ubuntu”, which is often translated as ‘I am because we are’. For those of you who are not familiar with the word, here is a story that connects to it.

The story goes that an Anthropologist proposed a game to African tribal children. He placed a basket of sweets near a tree, and then had them stand a few hundred feet away. Whoever reached the basket first would get all the sweets.

When he said ready steady go…Do you know what these small children did?

They all held each other’s hands and ran towards the tree together, divided the sweets and enjoyed them equally.

When the Anthropologist asked them why you did so?

They said “Ubuntu”. Which to them, meant ’How can one be happy when all the others are sad?’

The Osani Circle Game – Ethnotek Bags

I couldn’t help but realize the relevance of this word in this time of pandemic. We may not physically hold hands with each other in our community to run towards our goals, but beautiful are the ways we isolate ourselves because we care for that old person in the neighborhood, or the newly born baby next door or the hardworking essential workers who work day-in and day-out during this difficult period.

In silence, in subtleness, in simplicity, we are forced to stay out of that rat race we run everyday. Instead, here we are forced to walk in the shoes of another. Here we are, forced into downtime from hypocritic individualism to what we are truly called to be: to be for the other, to feel for the other, to walk with the other, just like Jesus did. Hence, I am grateful for this situation in a way, because it reminds me that, for us to overcome this global pandemic, it can only be done collectively.

Because if you suffer, so will I. If I am healthy and happy, it will be because of us. Ubuntu…

Picture and story from : https://medium.com/@neocody/the-origins-of-ubuntu-os-2307c996077c

Dying in Quarantine – by Janelle Borders-Denault

One of the hardest things being endured during this pandemic is being physically separated from loved ones who are sick.  One doctor I heard interviewed said that this is the worst thing about Covid-19–you drop off a loved one at the emergency room and don’t realize that you may never see them again.  This is terrible.  In this post Janelle Borders-Denault, an education student at King’s, shares a powerful and hopeful story about separation from her pépère during his dying process.  

Please respond in the comments section if you are so moved.

Squamish-based hospice officially open | Squamish Chief


Dying in Quarantine – Janelle Borders-Denault

I, like many others, am being shut out of a loved one’s dying process because of Covid-19. Ironically, I have spent the last year practicing for this, practicing for the moment where I could sit with someone I love through their final hours of life. Being shut out of a love one’s dying process, though, alongside my typical bedside experiences, has taught me a secret:your loved one dying in quarantine is not alone.

This pandemic is changing the dying experience for everyone right now, not just those who have the virus. My pépère does not have Covid-19; he is actively dying from an infection. But the last hand he holds will not be mine or my father’s. As of March 21st, only one, single essential visitor may visit a long-term care facility at a time. Essential visitors are defined as family, friends, or paid visitors who are providing care necessary for a resident, and visitors who are attending a resident who is actively dying. Both me and my father were blessed with one visit last week, where each of us had to go in on separate days, by ourselves, to say goodbye. And now we wait. Because of Covid 19, both directly and indirectly, people in our communities are dying without loved ones by their side.

But what if sitting with our dying people is more for us than it is for them? First of all, withdrawal is one of the first signs that someone is entering the dying process. Eyes glaze over, and suddenly any sort of embodied engagement must be prompted. When my pépère entered this stage, it was really hard for my mémère to accept. “Where is Raymond?” she would ask him. “He’s to the moon!” Pépère would remain preoccupied, ‘somewhere else,’ until she nudged his arm. Most of their conversations deteriorated into her vetting for his attention. Moreover, it is not unusual for people in this stage to report seeing deceased loved ones, which can lead to further withdrawal if their experiences are dismissed as delusion. One of my hospice patients saw a child on the edge of his bed, for example, while I was visiting. “Move!” he screamed. “Lay her down!” Last week, I told my pépère how much I love him. “You can leave whenever you’re ready,” I said. As I spoke, he sat up, looked around the room, and then up at the ceiling. “Where’s that voice coming from?” he asked. This ‘somewhere else’ where our dying endure is, I think, God’s all-consuming embrace. The very onset of the dying process, it seems, is a final one-legged swing over the saddle that rides the crack between ‘here’ and ‘elsewhere.’ It is a draw towards God’s summoning.

Withdrawal is exaggerated, of course, as active dying sets in. Each of the senses begin to slip, one at a time. Vision goes first, then touch– hearing goes last. My pépère could not see during our last visit. His eyes were always pacing the ceiling, back and forth. Though he was still responsive to touch stimuli (he swatted my hand away as I tried to place it on top of his), I imagine that he isn’t today. I picture the nurse aids heaving his limp body onto its side to inject the painkillers. He is still ‘here.’ I know this because I am still waiting. And this is where things get hard. God picks us up and swings us onto her hip when the final ride is done. But why is her touch so crushing? Let us, though, listen to those who are in it. The most shocking thing I’ve learned over this last year is that people who experience a gradual death seem to choose exactly when the ride stops. Often, it is when no one is around.

During the last session of hospice training, I felt anxious. “What do you do,” I asked the group, “if someone dies in front of you?” The coordinator was quick to answer: “chances are, they won’t.” My Aunty, who is a hospital chaplain, echoed this response. Over the span of her practice, only one patient has come close to dying in front of her. The patient decided to pass when she had just walked out of the room, and a nurse was about to walk in. My Aunty also told me of one woman who had requested a priest and three musicians, alongside friends and extended family to be in the room as her husband died. After hours of the group praying and singing, and hours of her husband agonal breathing (a gasping that is not true breathing but a brainstem reflex, which can happen shortly before death), the nurses decided it was time to clear the room to ‘give the patient his painkillers.’ The nurses knew, from the longevity of the patient’s severe state, that he was simply not able to die in such a stimulating environment. Almost immediately after the room was cleared of everyone except the wife, the husband passed. Yes, this person decided to have their wife beside them as they died. Yet, many people don’t. My friend’s father passed away last year from cancer. He died when they were out for a quick bite to eat. “He was protecting us, like always,” she smiled. Of course, there are many beautiful stories of people dying in the embrace of a loved one. But during this pandemic, it is important to know that these stories are not the norm. Dying is not communal; no one can share the immediacy of a last breath. Dying is a slow dance with the divine.

Yet, in a way, death is communal–each person, in their dying, teaches the world something. As I sit here writing this very sentence, I have an incoming call from my Dad. He tells me it’s over– Pépère is dead. And while I can’t help but picture him laying in a dark and empty room for those last moments, jaw dropped and gasping, I also wonder if he would have waited for a moment like this anyways, where he felt free to fix on the summoning voice that pulled him in months ago. Though I’ve always wondered what we do when we sit with the dying, it took my pépère’s death for me to realize that we learn. Perhaps we ground our dying through the pain, maybe. Mostly, though, they ground us. They shock us bone deep to the fleeting present. They let us go. They point towards another place. Around the globe people are dying without loved ones near. But my pépère taught me something: the dying are never alone.


Fear, WW2, Our Pandemic – A reflection by historian, Mark Sandle.

I am trying to release these reflections at spaced out intervals…who knows how long we will have in this quarantine!  I waited to post Mark’s first reflection on “Fear and Anxiety” related to stories from WW2 until this week because I thought it would be fitting as we walk toward the cross.  Roy Berkenbosch wrote a great sermon for Fellowship Church yesterday where he asked us to pause for a moment and…

“reflect on the  courage of Jesus to march into the thick of conflict (on Palm Sunday)- to deliberately act out the role of Messiah-King, singling his fulfillment of prophecy, yet knowing that he was not what the crowds expected (a warrior-type king) and that the ensuing conflict would cost him the ultimate price.

Read Mark’s first paragraph and some common emotional themes between war and those in Jerusalem experiencing Holy Week (not least of all, Jesus) will become apparent.  

Mark ends with 8 ways soldiers handled fear in helpful ways, in the comments please respond with patterns, rituals, habits, etc., related to the eight, that you have found to be helpful during this time.

Get To Know Your Profs - Dr. Mark Sandle: Room 6:01 Student Blog ...

Some thoughts on Fear and Anxiety I: Stories from WW2

I am currently researching the human dimensions of war, with reference to WW2. In my book I will explore how humans experienced war: the broad spectrum of emotions and behaviours which people lived out during this extraordinary time. My aim is to reveal a little of  how fear and love and hate affected combatants and prisoners and civilians, of how they coped with loss and anguish and despair, of why some resorted to treachery and revenge and indifference, while others lived in solidarity and hope.

Recently I have been working on my chapter on fear in WW2. And then the pandemic broke. So I am taking this opportunity to write up a couple of things about fear and anxiety that I have been working on. Its very much a work in progress. Maybe these voices from the past have something to say to us in our current predicament.

Obviously there are many ways in which wars and pandemics are completely different. Most of us are not facing a tank or a dive bomber in the flesh (although war is still a commonplace feature in many parts of our world today). But there are some similarities or parallels. Combatants had to deal with a constant gnawing fear and anxiety when they weren’t in conflict, and it is this which seems most relevant to us now. Understanding how millions of ordinary people coped might help us to face down fear and restore it to its proper place in our lives.

In my opening to my chapter, I noted the following:

As I sit here and read about fear in war, I am struck by how deep down the stories of fear affect me. The words on the page seem to open up a world I know nothing of, and yet in truth I know all too well the effects of dread and fear and anxiety in my own life. The dread of illness or pain. The fear of losing a child or a loved one. The deep unexpressed fears. The constant nagging presence of an unspecified anxiety. The waking early. I know nothing of war in my own life, yet in my imagination and my reading I seem to recognise the way that fear constantly assails the mind and the body and the spirit.

Fear was everywhere in WW2. And fears were multiple and overlapping. Fear for yourself. Fear for others. Fear of others. Fear of death. Fear of separation. Fear of injury. Unexpressed generalised fear. Deep abiding fear. Momentary, excruciating fear. Fear mixed with anxiety and dread. Fear produced great resilience and courage, and also panic and cowardice.

At first glance it seems rather self-evident that fear was a ubiquitous part of the landscape of WW2. After all, this was war. People die. People get bombed. People risk their lives. People get horribly maimed and burned. People have no idea what is going to happen to their loved ones. Every day fear cast a shadow. So how did armies address fear, and what did combatants do to try and cope with fear?

For the army hierarchies, this was a critical issue. Fear had to be understood, managed and diminished if the combatants were to be “effective soldiers”. The American army in particular undertook some in-depth studies to try and understand both fear and anxiety. To give you a flavour of the findings of these reports, let us look at John Dollard’s Fear in Battle (1944). Between 1942 and 1945 Dollard acted as a consultant with the Morale Services Division of the US Department of War. Together with psychologists from Yale University Institute of Human Relations, Dollard did a survey of 300 volunteers. It should be emphasised that these were volunteers (and so their experiences may differ from conscripts) and they were veterans, which may also have skewed the findings a little.

His “findings in brief” were as follows:

  1. Fear is useful to the soldier when it drives him to learn better in training and to act sensibly in battle.
  2. The commonest symptoms of fear were: pounding heart and rapid pulse, tenseness of muscles, sinking feelings, dryness of mouth and throat, trembling, sweating. Involuntary elimination occurred infrequently.
  3. 7 out of 10 men reported experiencing fear when going into first action.
  4. Fear is greatest just before action.
  5. 64 men out of a hundred agreed that they became less afraid the more times they went into action.
  6. Fear of “being a coward” diminished rapidly after the first action.
  7. Wounds most feared were those in the abdomen, eyes, brain and genitals.
  8. Enemy weapons most feared were bombs, mortar shells, artillery shells, bayonet and knife, and expanding bullets.
  9. Fear of bombs centred in the sound of the bomb dropping and on the concussion of the exploding bomb.
  10. The presence of hunger, thirst, fatigue, ignorance of plans, idleness increases the danger from fear.
  11. 8 out of 10 men say it is better to admit fear and discuss it openly before battle.
  12. 75 out of 100 believe that all signs of fear should be controlled – in battle.
  13. Experienced men who crack up should be treated leniently, deserters shot, and green men made to stay and face the music.
  14. The most important factors in controlling fear are: devotion to cause, leadership, training and materiel.
  15. Only 1 man in 4 thought that feelings of fatalism or belief in luck were of much importance in beating fear.
  16. Veteran soldiers learn that to be busy means to be less afraid: “when fear is strong, keep your mind on the job at hand.”
  17. Thinking that the enemy is just as scared as you are is helpful in controlling fear.
  18. 8 out of 10 men believe that hatred is important to the effective soldier – but hatred of the enemy’s cause, not of him personally.
  19. Fear may stimulate a soldier to fight harder and better, if danger to the self also suggests danger to the outfit or the cause.
  20. The best discipline is based on the willing acceptance of orders by purposeful and instructed men.

These findings are related mainly to the army’s attempts to manage fear in combat and so make the soldier effective in battle. However, if we broaden this out to consider fear in war, (ie the much broader experience of being at war: digging in, waiting, in transit, pre-combat, post combat, rest etc.) then we find some different things begin to emerge about fear.

Soldiers feared so many things. The anticipation of being bombed or shelled. And then when it did arrive, it was the visceral assault on the senses which brought pure terror: the screaming unrelenting noise, the shaking of the earth. It was the landmines that you couldn’t see. The fear of ambush just around the corner. So much fear and anxiety was generated by uncertainty, by what was not known, as much as what was known. Many soldiers feared showing fear. In other words, the fears that most preoccupied them were related to shame, and their feelings about themselves, and notably what others would think of them. This sense of social disgrace was often more powerful than the fear of being killed or wounded.

What did they do with all this fear? How did they make it through? There were several things that helped (and you will have to wait for my book to be published to get the full list!), but here are some that speak most pertinently to our situation.

  1. Practical actions: it was the feelings of isolation, of being totally out of control, of not being able to do anything about the source of the stress which was so debilitating about fear. And so experienced soldiers taught the new recruits to undertake practical tasks: keep yourself occupied, don’t listen to the horror stories, prep your equipment, don’t carry too much stuff around with you (keep your list of essentials short)
  2. Roll call: regular times with the people closest to you helped reduce the sense of isolation. Times of proximity were important, crucial in fact, to coping with the fear that war brought. Being together at the same time each day promoted solidarity, a sense of being in it together.
  3. Rituals and rhythms: soldiers often developed rituals and habitual practices to alleviate stress. Sometimes these were collective rituals that a whole group would indulge in. At other times, individuals would do certain things at the same time, or in the same order to lessen the power of anxiety. Taking talismans into battle. Getting dressed in a particular order. Often these were reactions to the overall absence of control or power felt by soldiers. What in their own small world could they try and control?
  4. Talking about fear: the fear of showing fear was immense, but often the fear was lessened if someone was courageous enough to own up to feeling fear, or to bring into the open a specific fear they had or were experiencing. One sergeant always soiled himself at the start of combat. He always announced it openly, which allowed others to do the same. Fear exists so much in our imaginations, in the anticipation, in our mental isolation. That is where it derived its power. Sharing it disarmed it.
  5. Times of escape and rest: rest and recuperation were critical. The US army estimated that it would take between 200-240 days for one of their soldiers to “break down” and be unable to perform. The British army estimated that it would take 400 days for this to happen, but that was because the British gave more rest periods to their troops. Rest was critical. And rest was not just physical rest, but mental distance from combat. Times to unwind. Times for sleep. Times for rum.
  6. Helping those in need: soldiers wanted to help the wounded, rescue those in trouble, defend the vulnerable. This was often one of the “practical actions” in point #1. It involved getting something done, but it was about more than being productive or helpful. It was about becoming less preoccupied with oneself, and affirming that if things got tough for you later on, someone would be there for you. It promoted a sense of being part of a network of mutual compassion.
  7. Dark humour: humour often served to lessen the fear by making the situation seem absurd or les powerful. If you can poke fun at it, it immediately became diminished in its intensity. Joking about dying, about death, about combat
  8. Spirituality: although religion was often derided by troops, the evidence is that troops turned to prayer and spirituality to combat fear and anxiety during war. Spirituality and prayer seemed to allow troops to reframe. To put their lives, or the conflict they were engaged in, into a larger, cosmic context, and to consider questions of mortality and immortality. For some, war did devastating things to their faith, but for most soldiers wartime experiences increased their spirituality.

These things were learned the hard way by soldiers from all different nations, from all different backgrounds. For fear was “the common bond between fighting men”. As we face up to months of uncertainty, it is easy to allow fear and anxiety to take up residence in our imaginings. But as the testimony of millions of soldiers affirms, fear can be tamed.

If Tim wants another one, I can also talk about fear and POWs and fear and civilians during wartime!

(I have told Mark that I would very much welcome these additional reflections!)

Justice and Worship Reflection from Janessa Gritter!

Below you will find a thoughtful blogpost by graduating biology student Janessa Gritter.  She has posted some questions at the end of the post that were initially going to be used at one of our Discipleship and Resistance gathers, engage with these, or anything else that she has written, in the comments!  Janessa has been a gift to our ministry team over the past two years.  She is thoughtful, hardworking, and willing to proactively step into leadership roles.  She is also an incredibly gifted worship leader. We are going to miss you, Janessa! To give you a little background as to who Janessa is and her time at King’s I asked her a few questions:



Congratulations on graduating!  What are your plans for next year?

will be starting as the Intern Worship Pastor at New Life CRC in Abbotsford. I am very excited to begin a new adventure and work with the wonderful people there.

Did you take a class at King’s outside your major that you would recommend to other students?

During this last year, I’ve been a part of the justice semester with about ten other people. Together we’ve taken theology, history, and social science courses. We’ve listened to so many wonderful speakers and tackled so many difficult topics. It’s really changed the way I view the world and understand social justice.

Was there a faculty or staff person who was particularly impactful during your time at King”s?

Aww man, I only have to pick one person? There was so many people at King’s that were so impactful on me.

Firstly, Dr. Darcy Visscher has had a big impact on my degree in biology at the King’s university. I’ve taken quite a few courses with him. Besides answering my many many many questions about biology with lots of patience, he’s been a wonderful professor. He’s challenged me to think about many different topics critically and helped me to continue to love biology, despite the heavy workload.

Secondly, Melanie Salte. I’ve worked with Melanie for two years as a worship assistant. We’ve laughed together, worshipped together, cried together, and grown together. We’ve had so many great talks and she’s walked with me through some hard decisions I’ve had to make. I’ll definitely miss her!

Do you have a favourite Scripture passage or one that has been particularly helpful lately?

Our graduating verse! Which I feel is a wonderful verse as I leave King’s this year and during the time we are living in. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” – Joshua 1:9

Is there anything else you want us to know about your time at King’s?

I’ve been so blessed coming to King’s. I’ve met so many wonderful people and learned so many impactful things. This is such a beautiful community: loving, caring, and insightful. The lessons, friendships, and moments I’ve made here will impact me for many years to come.


Community in Quarantine Post  

During this semester, I did a theology 499 based on the topic of worship and justice. I thought this topic appropriate as I’ve served as a worship assistant at King’s for two years and participated in the justice fellowship. I wanted to connect worship and justice together: two things that I am very passionate about. Before this course, I didn’t think worship and justice were connected. Worship was about praising and singing to our God and justice was about restoring relationships, speaking for those who are silenced, and showing radical love. I think most people would think the same way I did. Worship is in one category with one purpose and justice is in another. However, diving deeper into this topic showed me how important it is that worship and justice should be connected. This topic was an interesting experience and challenged the idea of what worship really is to me.

Often when we try isolate worship, we too often fall victim to ‘problems’ in worship that shouldn’t be the focus of what worship really is. On a Sunday morning, we focus on whether the music of a worship service is too loud, how ‘singable’ the lyrics are, or how many new songs are played in the worship set. When we focus on this, we tend to miss the real purpose of worship. We become spiritually complacent in the rhythm of worship and forget the injustices that are occurring in the world.

The real focus of worship is expressing who God is in worship and embodying God’s character in lives that do justice and seek righteousness for those who are neglected. The book I read this semester was called The Dangerous Act of Worship. The author describes that when we focus on the technicalities of worship, we fall asleep to what matters most. We can wake up only when we remember God’s purpose in the world and live lives that seek justice. Worship should change us. When we sing about knowing Jesus or loving like Jesus it means that we should love our neighbour and stand in the path of those who are neglected. When we sing about our God but don’t love our neighbour our worship to God becomes a lie (see 1 John 4:20-21). Authentic worship, worship that remembers God’s purpose in the world, should push us to act. Worship should remember justice and justice should remember worship. If we don’t acknowledge justice in worship, it becomes meaningless. Isaiah 58:3-9 reflects this idea with the imagery of fasting. The people fast, which is a form of worship, but are confused why God has not noticed. God replies that authentic worship helps to ‘loose the chains of injustice’. When this form of worship is done, worship that is recognizes injustice, God will answer the call.

One of the things that I’ve been reflecting on is to think about how comfortable you are with doing the worship you engage with now. When we become comfortable with the worship we do, same songs, same ideas, we tend to fall asleep. I’ve been wrestling with the word ‘uncomfortableness’ in worship. I think ‘uncomfortableness’ looks different for each person, but it is important to jolt us out of the rhythm of worship to think about what worship should really be. Being uncomfortable in worship, I would argue, reminds you of why you worship and puts you in a place to reflect on what worship is really for.

As we are in self-isolation during these weeks it’s hard to think about worship. Spending the days indoors and especially not getting to go to church is difficult. Perhaps we instead turn on a worship playlist or listen to a worship leader sing on a Facebook Live post. I encourage you to reflect on this idea I’ve written about and to think about the worship you’re engaging with over these weeks.

Here’s some questions to think about over the next couple of days:

What is the point of worship? Who is it for?

 Should worship and justice be connected?

 Have you, like the author mentions, fallen asleep in worship? What would it mean for you to wake up?

 What does it mean to be uncomfortable in worship for you?

Pray As-You-Wash, by Witty Sandle

There are many ways to pray and just as many definitions of prayer. There are liturgical prayers, carefully composed and at the other end, there are spontaneous prayers, arising in the moment and in the speaker’s own words. There are payers of lament, found in the book of Psalms, and there are prayers of adoration and proclamation, such as in 1 Timothy 1:17.  Every religious tradition will have its own versions and varieties of prayer language. Here, I want to focus on intercessory prayer and one way I have been holding others before God during this Covid-19 pandemic.

Image result for washing hands

Before I get to that, what is intercessory prayer? Richard Foster, in his book on prayer[1] explains it as “a way of loving others.”  MaryKate Morse, in a chapter on “Blessing Prayer”[2] explains this form of intercession as acts of hesed. She explains that this is a Jewish word that is difficult to translate as there is no direct English equivalent. The closest we can come is loving-kindness. She writes, “Our God is a God of hesed, loving-kindness…The word suggests generosity, commitment and love.”[3] We see a lot of hesed in the Bible as people pray for others. I have felt the call of God’s Spirit to pray in hesed-like fashion for those I know as well as for those I do not, including governments, institutions, public services and leaders near and far. I have been prompted to pray frequently, the echoes of the apostle Paul’s words ringing in my ears, “For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you.”[4]

How have I enacted this intention to intercede and act out generosity, commitment and love in my daily life right now? How have I made the desire to love others through intercession a reality? I have done it through the health guidance to wash our hands frequently. We must do this for at least 20 seconds, taking time to lather meticulously, systematically scrubbing the backs, between the fingers and under our nails. Some have suggested singing happy birthday as a time guide. I have chosen to practice intercession by using what’s known as the breath prayer.

Breath prayers go back to the early centuries of Christianity, historically associated with the Greek and Russian Orthodox Eastern Churches. The desert fathers and mothers of the early centuries would practice short prayers that carried them through their days and nights. One of the most famous is what’s called the Jesus Prayer. “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner,” often shortened to “Lord Jesus have mercy.” This would be repeated to the rhythm of a breath in and out. I have been using the pattern of the breath prayer for a while, adapting it into prayers for myself, others and situations. So for example, I might pray, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me as I wonder what’s next.” Or I might pray, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on my neighbours who are struggling with the death of their dad.” And so it goes. I have timed that you can get through “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner,” twice in 20 seconds, if said slowly and meditatively. This gives me an approximate guide to adapting the prayer as I lift others before God.

I invite you to unite your loving of others with the practice of intercession while you wash your hands. You might as well put your increased time at wash basins to good use!

[1] Richard Foster. “Prayer. Finding The Heart’s True Home.” 191.

[2] MaryKate Morse. “A Guidebook To Prayer. 24 Ways To Walk With God.”

[3] Ibid. 66

[4] Ephesians 1:9


Thanks for the great thoughts and encouragement, Witty.  For the rest of us–consider leaving a comment letting us know who you are praying for as you wash, and who you would like our community to be in prayer for. 

And consider sending me a reflection to post!  In particular, I would love to hear about impactful moments from this last academic year.

Reflection by Madison St. Louis

Madison is an OG of the Quarantined, quarantined for 2 weeks before the rest of us after coming back from the Commerce South Korea Trip. Enjoy her post:

When thinking about writing a reflection during this strange time of self-isolation, I’m scrambling to think of something that hasn’t already been said. I feel like every post I’m seeing on Facebook or Instagram has essentially been the same thing: social distancing is necessary! Protect the elderly and immunocompromised! Look how sad Italians are! While these are all good(ish) messages, I hope that this ends up being something refreshing for you, maybe something redirects your attention. Maybe you’ll just enjoy reading it, that’s ideal. This last month has been nothing short of eventful for me- relational changes, a trip to a new continent, watching an outbreak happen first-hand, self-isolating for two weeks, going back to school for two days, then learning that my first two weeks in isolation were only the warmup to the real deal.

Days after I returned from South Korea, I realized that one of my favorite artists, Princess Nokia, had released not one, but two new albums, displayed in this wonderful dichotomy: one album is named “Everything is Beautiful,” and the other, “Everything Sucks.” Disclaimer: Both of these albums, as well as all of her music, contain explicit content; just know that before listening. If you don’t have an issue with that, check her out. If not, I hope you’re still with me.

These albums have almost perfectly captured how this last month has been for all of us, in one way or another. “Everything Sucks” is of course the darker and grungier album of the two, thematically and sonically. The name itself allows me to let myself feel that everything really sucks, but not for too long- the entire album’s runtime is under 30 minutes. The reality of the COVID-19 situation is that it really sucks- virtually each one of us is being rudely disrupted by a pandemic that is literally killing people and closing borders. Nothing is good about that. As someone who’s out of touch with her emotions, it’s rare and valuable when I can find something (or someone) that helps me to identify what I’m feeling, and makes me feel safe enough to let myself feel it. Believe it or not, anger is a tough one. But this album is so good, I can’t be mad when I’m listening to it- I’m usually fired up and feeling maybe a bit too confident, which is why I made sure to time it so that “Harley Quinn” would be playing as I drove to a job interview I had earlier this month. You need new songs for your at-home workout playlist? Look no further.

Princess Nokia, as “disrespectful” and “offensive” as she may be (her words, not mine), reveals an entirely different side of herself in the sister album “Everything is Beautiful.” Sonically, this album contains an entirely different soundscape than its counterparts. In fact, much of the album sounds like what a brisk spring morning feels like. Sunny and uplifted, it’s a stark contrast to “Everything Sucks.” The albums are polar opposites; this is why I respect her so much. Ever heard a Lumineers album? Oh you’ve heard two? You’re not sure? Me either. (No shade to Lumineers fans.) This album has been the go-to album for me and my roommates for the last little while, all self-isolation aside (hey google, play Wavy by Princess Nokia). Lyrics like “I’m still a kid/but kids are fun” and “have you told your parents that you love them lately?” have stuck with me and have been running through my head ever since I heard “Green Eggs and Ham” for the first time. Its lighthearted contents are not to be pushed aside just yet.

Princess Nokia

So clearly not everything sucks, and not everything is beautiful either. I’m not gonna go on about how we can find beauty in the midst of disappointment and chaos; you already know that. I hope that you can remember things that sucked about this situation and also find thingsthat are beautiful about it. And you’ve all already done that. What I love about the two is how they coexist. Just last night, I was about to lose it on my roommate for burning the popcorn (am I ok???), and today I laughed harder than I have in months because another one of my roomates revealed to me that when she was in grade twelve, she dressed up as the Hobbit for Halloween (she grew out her leg hair and walked around school barefoot all day). Keep laughing folks. Oh, and keep dancing to crazy frog, people! It got you through elementary school, it will get you through this!

Bing Bing,

Madison St. Louis


Thank You, Madison 🙂 – If there is a way to reply to this post (again, I’m new to this), I would love to hear people respond with small things that they have found that are beautiful in the midst of our current state.