'Living as Kingdom People' by Yme Woensdregt

By Rev. Yme Woensdregt

“Do to others as you would have them do to you.” We call it the Golden Rule, and I would guess that most of us think it’s quite a wonderful thing. A nice piece of advice for our kids, and for how we can live in peace.

It’s not just a teaching by Jesus. By the time Jesus walked the earth, it was already an ancient piece of spiritual wisdom. The Golden Rule is held in common by all of the world’s major religions. We can find a version of these words in Buddhism, Confucianism, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, Native spirituality, Sikhism, Taoism. They all point to a spiritual wisdom about the interconnectedness of life.

Treat all other creatures as you wish to be treated.

And if it were just a general rule for life, it would be a good teaching for us.

But Jesus does something different with it. It’s not just about living well with others. It’s not just about being nice to other people. Christian faith is not about being nice people.

In the context of the Sermon on the Plain in Luke, the Golden Rule becomes quite a radical thing. It’s about living with others as God lives with us. It’s about imitating God. It’s about becoming God’s kingdom people.

Listen to Jesus again.
“Love your enemies.
“Do good to those who hate you.
“Bless those who curse you.
“Pray for those who abuse you.
“Offer the other cheek to those who smack you.
“Give your shirt to someone who steals your coat.
“Give to everyone who begs.
“Don’t judge, and you won’t be judged. Don’t condemn, and you won’t be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and you will receive.”

And in all of this, says Jesus, “Do good and expect nothing in return.”

Now that’s a little different than being nice. It is a radical way of living. And in Jesus’ day, it was even more radical.

In Jesus’ day, it was widely accepted that relationships were reciprocal. When a person acted generously towards you, you were expected to return the generosity. That’s what Jesus means when he says that “even sinners do that”. It was part of the common way of being in a relationship.
It’s still part of the way we live. You get a dinner invitation … and we expect that we should return the invitation. You get a gift, and you expect yourself to give a gift in return some time in the future.

And if you live that way, says Jesus, if you relate to other people based on reciprocity, then you’re only living out the qualities of life in the old age. Anyone can do that, says Jesus.

But if you want to live in the new age of God … if you want to live as the people of God … then you’ll live by different standards, with different ways of being, with new ways of relating to one another. God’s people live in different ways. Kingdom people live by different priorities—love endlessly; give generously; welcome all; don’t repay violence with violence but live by the law of love; help and give without expecting a return.

When we live in the new age of God, we will “be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.” When we live as kingdom people, we will imitate God, who loves without limits, and expects nothing in return from us.

This is the God to whom Jesus pointed with his whole life. We pray it in our Eucharistic Prayer, “Betrayed and forsaken, he did not strike back but overcame hatred with love.”

In Jesus’ teaching, the Golden Rule isn’t just a nice piece of advice. It becomes the basis for a radical new way of living. If we are the people of God, if we are kingdom people, if we truly are Christian people … our lives have to show it. We have to live like one.

And living as a follower of Jesus is different than living in that kind of reciprocal way, that tit–for–tat kind of way.

Our deepest and truest identity is that we are created for goodness, and we live out that identity as we live as God’s kingdom people.

Now let’s be clear. Jesus isn’t saying that if you are being abused to just take it. Jesus isn’t saying that if you’re bullied, you are to take it. In those instances, bullies and abusers take our choice away from us. This is not counsel to be beat up.

Rather, this teaching, this spiritual wisdom, calls us to live in a different way.

This is what Gandhi meant when he said, “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

If we claim to be followers of Jesus, then — to put it as simply as I can — we have to follow Jesus.
We have to do what Jesus did. We have to live as Jesus lived. We have to trust God as Jesus trusted God. We have to embrace as Jesus embraced. We have to include as Jesus included.

And sadly … the church does not. And I imagine how deeply God weeps over the behavior of the church.

I know it’s hard to live this way. I get it when people say you can’t turn the other cheek. It goes against everything we have been taught. It’s unrealistic in the kind of world we live in. You can’t really take Jesus’ sayings literally.

But the thing is that when we meet violence with violence, we only increase violence.

Yes it’s tough. I know. I struggle with it every day. But have we tried it? G.K. Chesterton once said that “Christianity has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult and not tried.”

The truth is that those who have actually dared to take Jesus at his word have found that it does work.

Think Gandhi, with his way of nonviolent resistance.

Think Martin Luther King, Jr., who found in Gandhi a source of hope and a way of acting. “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

Think Nelson Mandela, who after he was released from 27 years of brutal arrest said, “No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.”

Think Mother Teresa, who even in the darkest night of the soul continued to help those who needed to be helped.

The words of Jesus seem impossible. The reality of our world, however, shows that we have to find another way.

The way of the gospel is always to try and get us to move in the direction of love.

All Souls Episcopal Church in Washington DC has a sign outside their church building: “Love your neighbour//who doesn’t look like you//think like you//speak like you//pray like you//vote like you//Love your neighbour//No exceptions.”
The gospel in a nutshell.

The movement of God’s Spirit is always … always … toward openness, welcome, inclusion, acceptance, affirmation, and love.

It’s a hard way, I know. Some people are almost impossible to love. Some people will have offended us. Some people will have hurt us. Some people will have alienated us. Some people will have stolen from us. Some people will have taken advantage of us. Some people will have cursed us and destroyed our reputation.

And Jesus says, “It doesn’t matter.”

If you’re a Christian, if you’re a follower of Jesus, then Jesus calls us to: “Do to others as you would have them do to you. Be compassionate as our loving God is compassionate with us. Do it all without expecting anything back.”

Thanks be to God.

Rev. Dr. Yme Woensdregt
February 24, 2019

Yme Woensdregt on "What is your Lifesong?"

By Rev Yme Woensdregt

I’ve been reading a wonderful book called Healing the Purpose of Your Life. The main theme of the book is that each of us has a unique purpose for our life, and our whole lives are a process of discerning that purpose and living it out.

They quote Agnes Sanford, the Episcopal teacher, who taught that each of us comes into the world with sealed orders from God. She means, “It is as if before we are born, each of us talks over with God our special purpose in this world.” Our “sealed orders” are not a list of tasks for us to accomplish. It is primarily a way of being for each of us. Who are we called to be?

The book tells a story about a tribe in East Africa which doesn’t count the birth date of a child from the day of birth, or even from the day of its conception as some other village cultures do.

For this tribe, the birth date is the first time a mother thinks of giving birth to a child. When she becomes aware that she intends to conceive a child, she goes off to sit alone under a tree. There she sits and listens until she can hear the song of the child that she hopes to conceive. Once she has heard the song, she returns to her village. She teaches it to the father so that they can sing it together as they make love, inviting the child to join them.

After the child is conceived, she sings it to the baby in her womb. Then she teaches it to the old women and midwives of the village so that throughout labour and at the moment of birth, the child is greeted with its song.

After the birth, all the villagers learn the song of their new member and sing it to the child when she falls or hurts herself.

The song is sung in moments of triumph, or in rituals and initiations. The song becomes part of the marriage ceremony when the child is grown. At the end of life, her loved ones gather around the deathbed and sing the song for the last time.

It’s a beautiful story about the same kind of thing Agnes Sanford described as sealed orders. You can understand why I would love this image of our LifeSong.

It’s a way of talking about our essence. This is God within us. This is the light within us. This is what gives our lives meaning and wholeness and grace and love.

The song of our lives says something about who we are. It describes our being, our beautiful, unique personhood. Before we are born, God has a loving conversation with us about who we are and how we can live out our identity.

Notice that it’s not about what we do. Our LifeSong is about who we are. The things we do, the tasks we accomplish in our lives, are only ways of living out our identity. What we do reflects who we are.

As I was reflecting on that, it occurred to me that Jesus’ Lifesong was to empower people to live in a new way marked by unconditional love. When Jesus talked about the kingdom of God, he described a way of living together marked by love, equality, sharing. It was a radical thing then. It’s a radical thing now.

And as we read the story of Jesus’ baptism, we read a story about his commitment to living that way. When he was baptized with all the other people, he was praying. A voice from heaven proclaims, “You are my Son. You are my Beloved, chosen and marked by my love.”

He spends the rest of his short life revealing God’s love. He lives it out. He encourages people to live in the way of love. He heals people as a sign of God’s love in action. His death points to the incredible and powerful love of God in the world. That is the light we see in Jesus.

I believe that the same is true of us. In our baptism, God claims us as beloved daughters and sons. God wraps us within the embrace of love and whispers into our souls the identity which
God has given us. “You are God’s work of art,” we sing in one of our baptismal hymns. You are God’s Song in the world.

A well–known theologian once confessed that he was plagued by a terrible dream. He was traveling in a distant city and ran into someone with whom he had gone to high school. The person would say, “Henri, Henri, I haven’t seen you in years. What have you done with your life?”

The question always felt like judgment. He’d done some good things, but there had also been some troubles and struggles. And he didn’t know how to answer the question, how to account for his life.
Then one night he had another dream. He dreamed that he died and went to heaven. He was waiting outside the throne room, waiting to stand before almighty God, and he was shivering with fear. He just knew that God would ask with a deep voice saying, “Henri, Henri, what have you done with your life?”

But when the door to God’s throne room opened, the room was filled with light. From the room he could hear God speaking to him in a gentle voice saying, “Henri, it’s good to see you. I hear you had a rough trip, but I’d love to see your slides.”

We begin to discern our LifeSong as we know that God’s love floods our lives. God whispers to us, “It’s so good to see you; I hear your trip has been up and down, but I’d love to see your slides.”
So many of us have grown up thinking of God as judgment. But it’s not so. God is unutterable love. God is pure grace. God is sheer delight. God always waits for us just around the bend, beckoning us on in our journey. At the same time, God walks alongside us, encouraging us to discover our own LifeSong, singing with us in harmony.

As with Jesus, so for us our baptism is the sure sign of God’s love at work in our lives. Before we can do anything other than eat or poop, we are baptized. We know ourselves to be God’s people, delighting as God’s love washes over us. We walk with Jesus, and in our unique way we show the power and delight of being loved as we are.

As we revel in belonging to God, we begin to discern our own LifeSong.

Here are some questions to help us discern our LifeSong:
* What are you most grateful for today? What are you least grateful for? If you were to ask yourself that question every day, what pattern would you see?
* When in your life have you been so absorbed in something that time flew by? What gave you such joy?
* When have you felt most alive?
* If you had time and money enough to do anything, what would you do?
* Who is the person you most wanted to grow up to be like? Whom do you most want to be like today?
* What is your special way of receiving love?
* What is it that you have to do—that you can’t not do?
* If you had only one year to live, what would you do?

Questions like this help us discern our own LifeSong. It’s not just something we do once in a while.
These are questions for our reflection in the quiet moments of each day. We seek God’s presence each day, and we begin to hear our own LifeSong, that hymn which God sang to our souls before the beginning of time, the song renewed in our baptism, the song which we can hear in our days, if only we listen.
Thanks be to God.


Rev. Dr. Yme Woensdregt us Incumbent at Christ Church Anglican in Cranbrook, British Columbia

Following the Light

By Rev Dr Yme Woensdregt
I’m going to let you in on a secret—there were actually four magi but the fourth was turned away because he brought fruit cake.

We don’t really know how many magi there were. All Matthew tells us is that magi come from the east to worship the child who has been born king of the Jews. They arrive at the house where Jesus is, open their treasure chests, and offer three gifts as they pay him homage.

These were standard gifts for a king in the ancient world: gold is a precious metal; frankincense is an essential oil; and myrrh was used to anoint. Other documents of the time record the same items as gifts for rulers. It’s astounding to think that this peasant boy was given gifts fit for a king.

Let’s notice two things in this story.

The first is to ask “Who are the magi?” We sing about “three kings”, but they’re not royal. Magi were philosophers and astrologers from the east. They’re not from here; they come from away. They’re strangers. This story is Matthew’s way of saying that this birth is good news for all people. Outsiders become insiders.

This is Emmanuel. God is with us—all of us. All the world. Everybody. The whole world is included within God’s embrace. This is a remarkable story of God’s abiding passion to welcome everyone, regardless of age, colour, creed, sexual orientation, or any other thing.

And these magi are outsiders in every sense of the word. Not only are they from away, they’re also astrologers who dabble in the occult. People like this were explicitly condemned in the Old Testament.

But Matthew tells us that all people are now included. Something new is going on here. God is crashing into our world with a whole new way of doing things. There are no more outsiders. None. Zero.

The second thing to notice is the star. Since they’re astrologers, their work is to discern what the stars are telling us. But have you ever tried to follow a star? You can’t.

A Michael Pelzer photo

The star is a symbol. It is Matthew’s way of talking about the light which shines in the darkness. We focus so much on the birth of the Christ Child at Christmas that we miss how much light is part of the story of Christmas.

John’s Gospel mentions it explicitly: “What has come into being in him was life, and that life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”
In Luke’s story, the light is found in the wondrous glory of God which shone around that wonderful choir of angels.

In Matthew’s story, the light is found in the star. The magi follow the Light. Some people speculate that it might have been a comet or a supernova. Maybe—but honestly, that’s irrelevant.
The Light shines in the darkness.

I suspect that may be part of the reason we celebrate Christmas at this time of year, when the nights are longest. That’s why we use candles at Advent—the light grows week by week. That’s why we hold candles on Christmas Eve. The Light shines in the darkness.

It’s a story about following the Light.

The Light beckons us. The Light draws us in. The Light chases away the darkness. The Light warms us and melts the coldness that sometimes afflicts us. When we live in the Light, our fears are not so strong. They are less insistent. The Light bathes us in a sense of peace.

Following the Light also changes us. This kind of journey transforms us. As we rest in the Light, it enters our lives, our souls, and gently changes us.

I recently stumbled across a poem by Mary Oliver poem called Six Recognitions of the Lord. She describes lying in a meadow, watching the clouds, and letting the beauty of the scene wash over her. She ends the poem this way:

“Then I go back to town,
to my own house, my own life, which has
now become brighter and simpler, somewhere I have never been before.”

The poem describes an experience of something new in the midst of our ordinary lives. That experience changes us.

The same happened to the magi. They follow the Light, and they go home different people. They are made new, “and they go back … to their own life which has now become brighter and simpler, somewhere they have never been before.”

Matthew puts it this way: “They left for their country by another road.”

Following the Light changes us. We see new things. We engage in new ways of being. We set different priorities. We live in new ways.

On the outside, everything looks the same. Inside, it’s all new.

In another poem entitled The Summer Day, Mary Oliver reflects on the beauty of a summer day. She pays attention to the simple things, the little things, the beautiful things—a grasshopper, the grass.

She ends,
“I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”


Finally, Walter Brueggemann offers this prayer at Epiphany:

“On Epiphany day,
we are still the people walking.
We are still people in the dark,
and the darkness looms large around us,
beset as we are by fear,
anxiety,
brutality,
violence,
loss —
a dozen alienations that we cannot manage.

We are — we could be — people of your light.
So we pray for the light of your glorious presence
as we wait for your appearing;
we pray for the light of your wondrous grace
as we exhaust our coping capacity;
we pray for your gift of newness that
will override our weariness;
we pray that we may see and know and hear and trust
in your good rule.

That we may have energy, courage, and freedom to enact
your rule through the demands of this day.
We submit our day to you and to your rule,
with deep joy and high hope,

Follow the Light.

 Where is the light present in your life? How can you follow?

What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

We submit our day to you and to your rule with deep joy and high hope.

Thanks be to God.


Rev. Dr. Yme Woensdregt js the incumbent at Christ Church Anglican, Cranbrook, British Columbia

Rev Yme Woensdregt: A Different Kind of King

By Rev Yme Woensdregt

Today, on the last Sunday of the church’s year, we celebrate “The Reign of Christ Sunday”. Today we celebrate our deep trust that what began in Jesus will triumph in the life of the world, even if it’s not readily apparent at the moment. Today we mark our profound hope that what began in Jesus will come to be in God’s good time.

When we talk about the Reign of Christ, the most obvious question is, “What kind of reign? What kind of king?”

Barbara Lundblad tells a story about worship in the black church in the Southern states. The minister shouts out: “Who is Jesus?” The choir responds in voices loud and strong: “King of kings and Lord Almighty!” Then, little Miss Huff, in a voice so fragile and soft you can hardly hear, would sing her own answer, “Poor little Mary’s boy.” Back and forth they sang — King of Kings … Poor little Mary’s boy.

This is the black church doing theology. Who is Jesus? ‘King of Kings’ cannot be the answer alone; he’s also ‘poor little Mary’s boy.’

That’s how we do theology. We hold opposites together. We put them beside each other. When we think about the Reign of Christ, we need both King of kings and poor little Mary’s boy. Either alone doesn’t work.
 In that kind of way, the church tries to be countercultural. Our culture holds up leaders as powerful people. We may not trust them … but they hold the winning hand in every game. We see it in leaders around the world.

But not the church. Jesus is both King of kings and poor little Mary’s boy. This king rules through vulnerability. This is strength found in weakness. This is the paradox at the heart of our Christian faith.

Today, Jesus of Nazareth has been arrested. He stands in front of the Roman governor of Judea. Pilate asks him, “Are you the king of the Jews?”

Pilate seems confused. This backwoods preacher in front of him in a ragged robe? “You’re a king?
You?” Oh come on! Give your head a shake.

Kings are all about power and might, grandeur and ruthlessness. Rome knew how to use power. Power is for keeping people in line!

And they’re saying that this … this nobody … is a king?

But even if it doesn’t make any sense, Pilate has to take it seriously. If Jesus claims to be a king, he will be charged with treason. If Jesus claims to be a king, Rome will kill him as an example to others.

So, are you a king? And Jesus answers, “My kingdom is not from this world.”

Too often, we’ve thought that Jesus was talking about an individualized, otherworldly piety which is divorced from real life. But that’s not what is going on here.

Listen to the whole statement Jesus makes to Pilate. “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”

What Jesus is saying is this: “My kingdom, my way is about living in this world in a different kind of way.” Not by fighting. Not by power. Not by coercion and might and bullying. In other words, Pilate, you and Rome, you are the powers of the world and your way is the way of the world, but my kingdom lives by different rules. Another way of living.

My way is the power of love.

Earthly rulers ask, “What’s in it for me? How can I benefit?”

Love asks, “What’s the greatest good possible? What is good? What is just? What is fair? What is kind? What is compassionate?”

King Jesus rules in the same way he lived.

“Love one another as I have loved you.”

“As you did it to the least of these my sisters and brothers, you did it for me.”

“Do unto others as you would have them do to you.”

“Love God with all that you are and love your neighbours as yourself.”

Jesus’ whole kingdom depends on love. This is how we live in the world as followers of Jesus. We love.

The way of love is a game changer. It has been a game changer in my life. Certainly in our personal lives, love is a game changer.

But not just in our personal lives. Love is a game changer in our social life, in our political life, in our economic life, and in the life of the world.

Imagine what life would be like if politicians the world over were to ask “What’s the greatest good possible?”

Imagine what life could be if our economic policy were designed to benefit the greatest number of people, so that we could wipe out homelessness, hunger, poverty and disease. Imagine an economic policy designed to help the rich … not to get richer, but to help the rich understand that they have been blessed and that they are responsible to use those blessings to help others.

Imagine what life could be if every policy of our governments were designed so that they benefitted the greatest number of people.

Imagine a world where the education and health care systems get all the money they need, and the air force has to hold a bake sale to buy a jet.

Imagine a world where we really cared about the immigrants, the refugees, the poor and marginalized, those addicted to whatever helps make life bearable for them.

Imagine what the church would be like if every choice we made was based in love … love for those who are different … love for those who challenge the status quo … love for those who suggest new ways. Imagine a church which embraces and welcomes fully members of the LGBTQ community … or invites the homeless into our sanctuaries … or Christians working together with Muslims and Jews and Buddhists and atheists to make the world more loving, more compassionate, more grace–full.
Imagine a church without walls of any kind, a church with its arms open wide for all of God’s daughters and sons.

Imagine.

King of kings and poor little Mary’s boy.

That kind of love is a game changer in everything.

My kingdom is not from this world.

We worship a different kind of king … and, my friends, that makes us a different kind of people.

But we do more than worship this king.

We follow this king.

We give our loyalty to Jesus. We live as citizens of this reign. We live as people who follow the King of kings and poor little Mary’s boy.

That reign is not here yet. God’s reign is not complete among us. We know that quite well.

But it is surely coming. It comes among us as we listen to God’s voice as people of God’s truth. It comes among us as we declare our loyalty to this vision of wholeness and justice and compassion. It comes among us as we give generously to those who have so much less than we do. It comes among us as we reach out with compassion to help those who have lost hope. It comes among us as we live as God’s people in the world.

It comes because, as Desmond Tutu has said, “Goodness is stronger than evil, Love is stronger than hate. Light is stronger than darkness, life is stronger than death. Victory is ours, victory is ours, through God who loves us.”

Thanks be to God.

Rev. Dr. Yme Woensdregt Incumbent, Christ Church Anglican, Cranbrook BC
November 25, 2018 (Last Sunday after Pentecost, T

FRIDAY MORNING COFFEE CLUB PAYS TRIBUTE TO HUMBOLDT BRONCOS

The Friday Morning Coffee Club members were able to pay their personal respects to the Humboldt Broncos, with sincere thanks to longtime member Norm Dufresne,

On April 6, 2018, 16 members of the team were killed in a tragic accident while their bus was travelling to a playoff game. The team is based in Humboldt, Saskatchewan.

Norm, who is from Saskatchewan, was on a visit home, and kindly took some photos which he  shared with us at our last meeting.

There was a stillness in the room as we looked at the photos --- many of our members are Prairie boys who moved to British Columbia, or like me worked in Saskatchewan earlier in my life.

Thank you Norm with an additional thanks to Joel Vinge, one of our co-founders who prepared the photos for here.

We decided to share Norm's photos to show our respect to those who died in the tragic accident as well as the survivors, all those involved with the hockey team and the good people of Humboldt and Saskatchewan.

You are in our  hearts and thoughts. Every blessing.

My email is mj.morris@live.ca

End of Big May Mean Scrapping Little Red School House

When I was news editor at the Chatham Daily News in 1968, my mother, Muriel E. (Hunt) Morris decided to come from Chapleau and spend  the summer with me. To keep herself busy during the day, she decided to take a summer course in education.

The times they were a changing in the late sixties in more ways than one, and education was included. Mom, who had taught school for 34 years at the time became increasingly frustrated with the new thinking in education being set out by the professor.

Just an aside about the changing times in the Sixties -- shortly after I arrived in Chatham Martin Luther King Jr. and Senator Robert Kennedy were assassinated; peace talks started in Paris to end the Vietnam war and on June 24, Pierre Trudeau led the Liberals to victory in the federal election. Our headline in 120 point type was CANADA GOES TRUDEAU, which wasn't quite true as he was not popular in some parts of the country.

Anyway, back to Mom and the professor.


One day the professor said in effect that teachers must "account for individual differences" in children, and used some other trendy words in his lecture. Mom, who had not said a word in class all summer, raised her hand to ask him a question. But the classroom teacher still taught to the middle simply because the way the system is structured., including new trendy words signifying really nothing.

"Don't you mean that all children are special with needs?," she asked. I don't recall his reply to Mom, but I do know the rest of the class agreed with her. After spending her entire teaching career treating each and every child as special with needs, she retired two years later after teaching at Chapleau Public School and at Kekabeka Falls for a total of 36 years.


Mom taught elementary school and emphasized the child before the subject content always.
Obviously she had no use for the labelling of children, or anyone else for that matter.


Let me give you an example that involved me. I was teaching economics at Chapleau High School, and almost all the students in my class failed a test. I was having coffee with my mother and pontificating against my students in typical teacher fashion. Mom stopped my little rant, made some suggestions including that maybe I scrap the course content as I had prepared it, and start over. She also suggested I might want to think about finding another career.


"Start where the students are, not where you are," she recommended, adding that she didn't have the foggiest notion what I was talking about when I tried to explain the material on the test.
I took her advice and we started over. In fact, as Junior "B" hockey was very big in Chapleau at the time, I used a hockey rink to teach the factors of production.

Some years later, a school board member, on a tour of the school, stuck his head in my classroom and asked me, "Is this there where they teach hockey?" I replied yes it was and offered to demonstrate. He didn't take me up on the offer. 

Today, more than ever, I believe my mother was right, and I was so fortunate to finish my teaching career at College of the Rockies where I helped found a grad program in new media communications which was very student centred. I will always be indebted to Dr. Wm. Berry Calder, the president of COTR, who believed that the future is now in 1994 and supported me as we pioneered web based communications when many told me that even email would never really catch on.

The advances in technology since I retired in 2000 have been phenomenal, and today I think of the possibilities for a real student centred education system where it is accepted that each child is special with needs is a starting point. Increasingly methinks that the little red school house and all its trappings designed for the 19th century should be relegated to the dustbin of history.

Recently, over coffee, I was thumbing through 'The End of Big: How the Internet Makes David the New Goliath' by the American writer Nicco Nele which I had bought from Amazon.ca and picked up at the Canada Post Office in Shoppers Drug Mart.

However, I chuckled to myself given that I usually have coffee in "big" coffee chains and kept thumbing through Nele's rather incredibly good read and near the end came across two suggestions he makes. To better help us inhabit the End of Big, he suggests that in revising institutions, focus on making them more amenable and responsive to individuals and second, demand serious, thoughtful, informed leadership. (Italics are Nele's)

I would be most interested to hear from you. Please comment or email me atmj.morris@live.ca

Gerry Warner on Sears closure marking an end of more innocent times

Perceptions By Gerry Warner

So, if the abrupt closure of Target wasn’t bad enough, now it’s bye, bye, Sears. You have to wonder where it’s going to end? Hopefully, we won’t have to do all our shopping on the computer in the future, but who knows?
 And where’s Santa Claus in all of this?
That may be a bit of a facetious question, but only a bit. After all, look at what Uber is doing to the taxi business world-wide. Throw robots into the mix and you have to wonder if anyone will need to shop in the future? Let the bots do it! A robot could probably do a decent job of impersonating Santa too. They’re already building our cars and checking people into their lodgings in Japanese hotels. But is that the kind of world we’d want to live in?
Not this cowboy! 
Heck, I’m so old I can remember when Eaton’s closed in 1999 after more than a century of operation in Canada. An  Eaton’s was a Canadian department store, not a clone of an American operation south of the border.  Timothy Eaton was a Presbyterian Scot immigrant who opened his first store in Toronto in 1869 and quickly built it into a nation-wide chain that pioneered catalogue shopping and huge, multi-storey retail stores in Canada’s major cities long before so-called “big box” stores came into existence.
I remember well the Eaton’s store on West Hastings Street in the heart of downtown Vancouver. It was a big box close to 10 storeys high, but unlike the big boxes of today, had huge leaded glass windows adorned by lattice screens and wide plate-glass-windows at street level with lavish displays that would catch the eyes of shoppers as they passed by on the street. 
And in those days, Eaton’s wasn’t the only big department store downtown. There was Woodward’s just down the street on a grubbier part of East Hastings and the Hudson’s Bay store up on Granville Street, the only one of the big-three, department store behemoths still serving customers today. Back then, the big Vancouver Sears store wasn’t located downtown at all, but over on Kingsway Street, a busy retail corridor of its own. Later it moved downtown to Granville too where it met its demise.
As for Cranbrook, I didn’t live here in my younger days so the only Sears I knew here was the mail-order, catalogue store in the Cranbronbrook Mall downtown which was the last place in my life I made a catalogue purchase, a jade-color fall jacket that I still wear. I’m also still wearing a tattered, white Sears winter parka with a
burgundy hood much to the chagrin of my wife who threatens to throw it out every winter. That issue has yet to be settled in the Warner household!
But I confess to feeling a sad sense of nostalgia about the passing of Sears. Like many a young Canadian lad, I tied Sears and Eaton’s catalogues around my legs when we played shinny on the street before my parents bought a proper pair of hockey shin pads for me. I also remember how excited we were as children when the Sears and Eaton’s winter catalogues arrived by post before Christmas and we eagerly gazed at the wonders inside. Those were more innocent days when people were disciplined enough to actually wait for things they desired instead of ordering them up almost instantly with those fiendish devices they’re always clutching in their sweaty hands. Then there was the Sears Wish Book, which kids and kids-at-heart, anxiously looked forward to every Christmas season.
And to think in the future we can look forward to delivery-by-drone as Amazon is already experimenting with or have a robot serve you at the nearest Apple Store. Not for me, thanks. I still prefer Santa and his elves as well as real, bricks-and mortar department stores like Sears and Eaton’s.

Gerry Warner, a retired journalist is still a kid at heart and a member of the Friday Morning Coffee Club