Canadian pilgrimage – postcard one

Canada Pilgrimage: Postcard 1 

Montreal | Geulph | Kitchener | Five Oaks 

What does it mean to belong? And in a world full of despair and injustice, what does it mean to belong, with hope, in community? We have been in Canada for seven days now – days that can be characterised by three attributes of what it means, to belong together in a communities of hope: 

Generous hospitality 

We have been hosted so generously not only in homes, but also on sacred land. Jill Torrie lent us her apartment (or condo as it’s known here) while we were in Montreal. In that city, along with the glorious Bertrand and Paul, we were introduced to Mont Royal – the hill that gives the city its name – and to the generous hospitality of the Cathedral community. At St. Columba by-the-lake Cheryl Doxas prepared a three-course meal for us, complete with napkins, an ice bucket and home made three-berry and apple pie; others spoke of the power of community, in the monthly meals they prepare for young adults in their church. Being hosted by Andrew and Linda Foster, Associate Member near Kitchener; and by Lucy  Reid,Associate Member in Guelph, reminded us of the generous hospitality of opening your home to a stranger. The witness of the Trinity Community Table in Cambridge, Ontario, where Andrew and Linda volunteer, was impressive. Run by a team of volunteers, this award-winning project feeds 100 hungry people three times a week with a sit-down meal. 

While at Five Oaks, near London, Ontario, we were reminded of the unceded territory on which we were staying, and of the rupture across communities where whole nations have been, and are still being uprooted. In the midst of this pain, the unconditional welcome, the open hospitality of the First Nations people whom we have met has been radically generous.   

Tender curiosity 

In conversation with Robert Patton, Harvey Satewas Gabriel and Alma Ransom – Mohawk chiefs, clergy and elders in Kanesatake and Kahnawake, near Montreal – we learned something of the painful story of the residential schools policy, still in practice until 1996, which systematically ‘scooped’ (stole) Native children from their families and outlawed all attributes of Native culture. Harvey, the translator of the bible into Mohawk (a copy of which is in Iona Abbey), spoke of the loneliness of the Mohawk speakers with fewer and fewer people able to share their language: ‘When I get lonely, I speak to Jesus in my language. I know he will understand.’  We listened as they shared with us stories of systematic destruction of their indigenous communities, and of the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada.  At Five Oaks Retreat Centre, 17 of us gathered for three days reflecting on hope in community. With participants from both sides of the Canada/US border, we were reminded of the power of listening, across all divides, and that our journey to justice binds us beyond all that separates us. Stephanie and Maia joined us from the nearby reserve of Six Nations, engaging us in a powerful role play to feel what it’s like when a community is ruptured through the ‘scooping’ of children. 

The tender curiosity with which questions are posed, silences held and words of comfort or explanation offered marked the quality of the relationships and the strength and resilience of the community of sharing. 

Hope through action for justice and peace 

We learned from Lisa Byer-de Wever of the life-saving impact of the Mohawk bible on one young girl who for the first time felt seen; we listened as congregants spoke about hope in the welcome by the church of trans people; and of standing with the Innuit people as they seek a stronger voice in the health care world.  

As we travel we are taking with us the Fingerprint Labyrinth, created by Members of the London (UK) Family Group, but copies now gifted and delivered to the people of the USA, and of Canada. The impact already of being invited to walk the contemplative way, as a reflective activist, has been profound. One retreatant told us that the invitation to be a contemplative activist has sent her home with a renewed passion for justice in her heart. 

God of all gathering places,
God of holy, pilgrim ground
where ‘three streams meet’;
where pain and sorrow mingle
with campfire laughter and loving kindness –
may we recognise your new community of hope
where we experience
generous hospitality, tender curiosity,
and actions of hope.
In the name of the risen Christ,
Amen