Olejuru Anozie Interview!

Olejuru Anozie (B.A. '19)

Some students stand out quickly at King’s because they are happy to “put themselves out there.”  Maybe they are a bit louder or simply involved in everything.  I don’t think that is Olejuru.  I picture Olejuru slowly walking through the halls with a calm presence, a joyful smile, and chatty friends around her.  Over time, her thoughtfulness, willingness to serve, and excellence in the classroom made her well-known in a number of different circles on campus.  One of her gifts is found in her writing.  I posted three of her poems below for you to enjoy.  

Enjoy this Community in Quarantine conversation with Olejuru Anozie:

Download here: Olejuru Interview

Stream here:


Olejuru’s poetry with explanation

Shadowy Spaces

Shadows. Spaces. Light. Dark. Grey. Constant noise, constant colour. Swimming in words, white, black, red. Breaking. The clock ticks, the people speak. I am a shadow; my eyes owned by the screen. How many like me sit and wonder, what is next, how many more, when will it end? Broken bodies become burdens. Stories intersecting in pieces, even when they can’t touch.

This is a prose poem I wrote in response to my being overwhelmed by all the coronavirus news. The inspiration was gotten from a reflection I wrote during the promptive writing period of my Narrative Medicine practicum workshop. The prompt was “write about the shadowy spaces around you”.


 Grandma’s House

Today I saw a man with two kids.

He scolded his son, told him to sit still.

He tickled his daughter, I saw her sweet smile.

He gathered his kids in his arms; they left

And floated away to Nana’s house.

This poem was inspired by a ride I took on the NYC subway. I saw a man interacting with his two young children, telling them that they would soon be at the stop they needed before walking to Grandma’s house. It was such a sweet interaction I decided to write a poem about it.


March 26

Remember me,

Remembering. You

Remember us

Remembering. I,

Missing you.

  • O

This was written a few weeks ago on March 26th,2020 as I was thinking about the two year anniversary of my friend’s death.


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.


Conversation with Heather Looy!

Enjoy getting to know psychology professor Heather Looy better in this conversation.  She is a bread baking, squash playing, (possibly surprising) rebel, who cares deeply about her work and her students.

If you don’t have much time, I recommend skipping ahead to 48:40 where she begins sharing about her husband Anthony.  In that conversation and all that follows, I think you get a good glimpse of who Heather is.  Another highlight for me was our conversation about the Silent Retreat and other contemplative practices, beginning at 35:39.

Download here: Looy Conversation

Stream Here:


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!)

The Student Life in Quarantine

4 roommates
(Left to Right) Juliana “The Concierge” Middel, Nathalie “the Calculator” Singh,                                                             Emily “The Reluctant Squirrel” Bouma, Ashley “The Plumber” Elgersma


It was time to hear from some students!

Juliana Middel, Nathalie Singh, Emily Bouma, and Ashley Elgersma, who live across the street from King’s, share about what life in quarantine has been like for them and their faith, what it is like to live together, and how the King’s community has helped to shape them.

Off the top of my head, Rem Kooistra, Peter Mahaffy, John Hiemstra, Leah Martin-Visscher, Kris Ooms, Chris Peet and the other psychologists, Vern Peters, Will Van Arragon, and Jonathan Nicolai-deKoning are all mentioned for one reason or another- I was struck once again by all the important connections that are made (large and small) within our community.

Get outside for a walk and enjoy learning more about these cool people!  If you want to give thanks for anything these ladies shared, feel free to do it in the comment section.

Also King’s grad Caleb van der Leek gives an update on his life and introduces a really great song that was written during his time at King’s and will be on his upcoming album.  If you don’t have much time and need to skip ahead to his part, it begins at 49 minutes in.

Find his music here: Opie’s Funeral on Spotify

Caleb, Ryleigh, and TomTom


Download the episode here: Students in Quarantine Episode

Stream it here:


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?

Sermon for a Physically Distanced Community

Since most of our churches are not gathering this Sunday, and some of our communities cannot offer anything online for us, I thought I would post a sermon from the lectionary text for this week (March 29, 2020- two weeks before Easter).  The background music is, once again, from The Translators.

Translators on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/0aX1pO8kpL3ekrt5Egbjik?si=9JpWv9xnQpG-N4rJcJUChg

Download Sermon John 11:1-45: John 11 Download

Stream it Here:

Also, these podcast are now available on iTunes (this one might not be up until tomorrow).  Search for “Community in Quarantine.”

May God bless you and give you creativity as you seek to connect with, and care for, one another.