Learning a Trade

It is the middle of winter.  It is and has been Corona season for a while.  Christmas is over, tree down and outdoor lights unplugged and about to go into storage for another year.  Check, Check, and Ouch! - a huge hit to our modest seniors retirement income!  Why not celebrate the season properly and install a brand new energy efficient furnace into our nice little bungalow. Why? Because ours was a 40 year old original and the time had come. Some cracks showed up where they must not be if our home is to continue safe and sound.

Good news really.  Firstly, it's no surprise, as we have been watching old faithful for the last number of years. Secondly, we're confident we are dealing with reliable professionals. And thirdly, the installation occasion has given me pause once more to think about some things.  ["So what does not give this guy occasion to think about things?" you may say.  Those of you who read all my blog posts already know my dad had that same opinion when I was a little boy - or a teenager, or a young man! The nescheah always thinking and asking questions 😏]  What am I thinking about this time?  Well, just some things I had almost forgotten. 

At 8:30 a.m. the doorbell rings, precisely the time we had been told.  A cheery greeting quickly leads to agreement as to best entryway for equipment and workers, and some quick explanation of what will happen next couple hours.  In short order the house is a beehive tapping and banging and whirring and cheery words down there.  Construction time.  My surprise?  When I go down to make a few ongoing homeowner-type queries, I am met by the same cheery 'boss'.  My questions and accompanying conversation is taken care of by him - not by the three young helpers he has chipping away at various details all around.  No smart-ass opinions or comments from them. They nicely respond 'when spoken to', but no extra opinions from them. I am impressed with the professionalism and good manners! Yes, we have a good crew at work in our basement.

This reminds me of when I was a kid.  When I got a first 'city job' I was a yard boy for a trucking company.  My job was to move trucks around for various small errands and yard jobs as assigned by the foreman.   And of course at coffee time my job was to listen to tall tales (bs) as spelled out by said foreman and truckers.  As of yet no stories from this upstart boy - just listen. There was an order and a dignity, a pecking order if you will.  These young fellows in my basement were obviously in similar rank - apprentices of the trade.  Their job is not to entertain one another or the homeowner or their supervisor.  Their job is to learn the trade right in front of their face. The most satisfaction will come if they pay attention, ask the right questions, and do as they're told. That's what they're being paid the entry level wage for.  AND THEY HAVE JOBS.

It has been a while since I've witnessed so clear as this, a demonstration of learning by doing -  apprenticeship. That is because I have been in a different environment for most of my adult life.  Even in my alter ego career, which for health reasons brought me back into a truckers world for a good number of years, I was an owner operator (o/o), kind of esteemed in trucker-land because I managed my small business earning a living with my own equipment.  I was not 'learning the trade', although there are always things to learn.  And of course my pastoral career (college and seminary training) has been in urban environment, upper-middle class actually. So obviously the communities I have lived in for fifty plus years have contained mostly privileged kids, good schools and parents often trying to please their offspring.  That is why these days in my neighborhood the streets buzz with toonzied (souped up) Toyotas, BMW's, Hondas, etc. many of these birthday or graduation presents from wealthy urban professional parents. Many modern day teens and twenty-somethings know not the trades; they know entitlement. Hence, these quiet spoken young fellows in my basement were a sentimental reminder of something I had not seen for a while. Learning a trade is a good way to learn.  It's a form of education I have always respected and had almost forgotten.

This is kind of a reinforcement of my current opinion - some might say current mood. Yes, it is what I have been thinking of late! There are too many young slightly educated entry level 'professionals' with an attitude of entitlement obviously because they are the children (and grandchildren even) of us baby boomers.  The current Coronavirus gives good illustration. I now hear of young people  receiving Canada Emergency Response Benefit (CERB), some even reinvesting payments received - thanks to the counsel of wealthy conservative parents helping to take advantage of the system. Dammit, that makes me mad! Perhaps for that reason I considered it a privilege and breath of fresh air to have met these quiet bright eyed cheerful young guys learning a trade! En process they also installed a nice new furnace in my house. I am impressed.

It cost me a few grand $$$, but now my thinker has me slightly refreshed again.  I am cheered to reconnect with some basic values.

A Possibility of Civility

It is the morning after the day before.  Yesterday my wife and I were glued to several of our devices, radio, or television, most comments of the day related to what was going on at inauguration of the new president, Joseph R. Biden, 46th president of that neighbor to the south of us, United States of America.  Most memorable now in my mind, is not the good speech by Mr. Biden, not the swearing in ceremony itself, or the endless commentary about the mammoth security presence, but a simple incident, a ceremonial walk down the steps of the U.S. Capitol, Vice-President Kamala Harris and her husband, and former Vice-President Mike Pence and his wife walking down to the motorcade.  As they walked down that long stately flight of stairs which only two weeks ago bore up the unruly mobs rioting, there was a silence - quiet observation of four people walking together - former president Trump slunk away to Florida because he could not endure the humiliation of a new president sworn in, and Biden allowing the walk to be taken by the two VP's, the ones who could at least stand being in each other's presence.  It was quiet, touching, and then they stopped.  Yes, halfway down before getting into duly appointed cars, they stopped and must have had a little chat - maybe about the weather, or one of their kids, or perhaps even some particular idiosyncrasies of their bosses?  😆  And then they doubled over in laughter!  Whatever it was, it spelled relief, nationwide relief; four persons perhaps accidentally, but humanely demonstrating a possibility of life continuing even after the acrid animosity which had divided a nation in half during this latest debacle of an election.

Interesting things about this election.  Even from the vantage of this country to the north I recall several dinnertime conversations with guests in our home which became arguments complete with eventual anxious declarations of friendship which hopefully would survive the disagreement of this visit! I marvel at how us Canadians, christian Canadians even, could get so embroiled in the affairs of a nation being mauled by an egocentric narcissistic president (I admit this statement almost got me killed several times this past year).  Perhaps Mr Pence and Ms Harris had shared a joke about the idiocy of us all!  At any rate, we breathe again.

I wish the pundits, the talking heads, the high-salaried journalists, the business executives, the politicians beholden to a narrow self-centred electorate, could just take a break for a few days.  Allow us to breathe, give Donald Trump a couple days with his wife uninterrupted by assistants and whatever it is rich people do.  Allow a nation to regain civility; allow a new President to go about the business of beginning a presidency, organizing office in a normal manner.  Perhaps our disagreements (please Premier Kenny, Alberta) can be addressed without grandstanding.  It would be nice to see.

I am reminded of Margaret Atwood, sharp tongued and witty Canadian novelist who recently quipped in Sojourners, a Washington based Christian magazine I have subscribed to for decades.  Writing to her American friends she said, “We in Canada watched your election with nail-biting intensity, getting the cups of tea ready for an influx of refugees from south of the border.”  Thankfully, she says, that won’t be necessary just yet. What they have done, she says, is elected themselves an Ice Captain, Joe Biden, someone to manage the way station.  “Now there’s a breathing space….Bottle of water, snack, pats on the back from encouraging bystanders, and then off you’ll go again, long-distance runners.” (Sojourners, Jan. 2021).  Ms Atwood is sharp, and her books are popular.  I'm not sure she has it quite right, but close. My hope, as I also breathe a little easier, is that those of us watching, especially if we claim to be  people of faith - christian or other, whether American, Canadian, or wherever ... that we may recognize the importance of communities of believers which could easily transcend borders if we but allow it.  And I delight in leaders who can laugh with one another.

People of faith have a responsibility to recognize the humanness of those across the isle in our parliament or senate chambers, and for all of us it is good to recognize the truth as presented in our Bible.   Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established.  (Romans 13:1) and also a Statute of Limitations 😉  Then Jesus said to them, “Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.” (Mark 12:17).

Neighborhood Stretch

I'm thinking of some of my involvements these days. Involvements are still essential for this workaholic still adjusting to retirement.  I agreed to an assignment from Missions and Service Committee of the Mennonite Church Alberta – my Christian community learning to be responsive to a repopulating world.

Two committee awarenesses became obvious when I came on board two years ago. One: Muslim-Christian Dialogue initiated in Edmonton with considerable success including some good inter-church and inter-faith participation seemed not to be taking hold in Calgary.  Two:  A group of South Sudanese Christians also in Edmonton with some conference help were coalescing and cheerfully worshipping in rental space, and almost akin to the early church in Acts, devoting themselves “to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (2:42).  Seeing I was the lone committee member living in Calgary, could I see what might be done to address either or both of these?  The beauty of volunteer work is that you probably will not get fired, even if abysmally unsuccessful.  Ironically it has become a joy to first ‘look’ at these two challenges and then see what is happening. Yes, it seemeth to be a work in progress.

Enter Corona, the subject of almost all my previous blog posts this year!  Surprise, the first challenge, which I had perceived as the big one because of considerable ‘dialogue’ disinterest in this city of cowboys and big business executives.  The October 31 scheduled dialogue included Albertans from all over.  Not only Muslim-Christian dialogue, but unexpectedly a whole interfaith community has suddenly opened up before my eyes.  Corona brought on Zoom, and Zoom knows no political, cultural, physical or philosophical boundaries. Praise the Lord! 

 

The second awareness, perhaps not surprising, has been less quantifiable.  I was asked to become acquainted with and help facilitate some group formation among these Calgary South Sudanese Christians, also immigrants and some of them kinfolk of the Edmonton group.  I recall my first introduction. After a few phone calls two tall good looking black gentlemen arrived at our church (located about 10 km south of the city).  This was followed by dinner at our house.  Next occasion, Tim Hortons 17 Ave SW; my impression, this establishment completely populated by black men of same stature, hearty handshakes and noisy conversations.  No alcohol, but reminded me of small town watering holes of my past history.  Next meeting a visit by one of the Edmonton brothers, one of my fellow committee members, at same Timmies, referred to by one of the Calgary brothers as his office. 😊  Surprise; this meeting began and ended with prayer.  In this place it seemed to be understood the Lord’s work going on at this particular booth!  David, the one I first met, is asked by the Edmonton rep to take some organizational leadership, “but make sure to check with Elizabeth”, one of the mature women who already has a sense of what is needed.  It’s a formal inauguration meeting – at Tim Hortons!  Nobody finds this unusual, except me of course. 😌   Next meeting with one of them – attempt to solve a community problem causing considerable stress. I can do little to help, but am honored to pray with them about it.  Next meeting our place, this time including several additional relatives/friends.  Two cars full, suddenly our living room seems fairly cozy.  Next meeting at the home of the woman of authority; delightful time of conversation including her husband and several of her children, including two basketball type sons of the 6’8” stature. Yes, large families all of them –  reminds me of my family of origin in Saskatchewan. In short order several of us together are visiting one of our churches, Foothills Mennonite closer to their locale.   

Did I mention Corona?  Yes, it too. Just as I thought we were poised to make a decision re future meetings, everything went on hold – at least organizationally. Except - and I say this with joy - every conversation (text or telephone or email) by now has a tone almost of family familiarity.  We’re in this together, even joining in several Zoom worship times with our Foothills hosts.  Corona time?  God is with us, among us.

  Along with the worship prayer motif there are clouds.  Huge challenges, always concerns related to family members and situations in South Sudan or Ethiopia.  One of them, Bayak, is Executive Director of Nile Care Advocacy for Peace and Development (NILECAPD) headquartered in Juba, South Sudan.  I have been unsuccessful so far in accessing funding assistance from our own MCC, from the Anglican church, or other agencies.  En process I have also come to know a gentleman named Chor, adherent in a local Lutheran Church and president of Calgary Sudanese Association (Yes, approximately 15000 members in Calgary). These are noble involvements much akin to the work of the church as we know it.  They do this work as immigrants, and also as fellow Christians, seeking to make a home here while also deeply pained about life 'back there'.  This is a humbling awareness especially for those of us of the service orientation, and certainly not unfamiliar to Mennonites whose forebears came through the Russian Revolution.

I am reminded of a quote from a community newspaper I recently happened upon. "For immigrants, hard work isn't optional - it's a matter of survival" <hello@sprawlcalgary.com>.  Many immigrants become minimum wagers here.” Alongside these very early introductory meetings and conversations there is always the employment issue. Uber drivers, Skip the Dishes, and the whole gamut of entry level jobs not at all uncommon in this community.  Several of them work in Fort McMurray, removed from family for a month at a time, return home for a few days and away they go for another month!  Evenso, every greeting includes queries about my wife, and my children. Then I ask about them.  Good, good. On second or third round of conversation I may learn it’s not so good.  Rent not paid yet, etc. Ouch, but “God is here, God is good” and they like this country.  I am learning new ways to greet and appreciate everyone around me.

I could now move on into the politics, the analytics and opinions among neighbors and fellow citizens, including fellow church members.  Much conversation still focused on pensions and retirement and holiday trips (interrupted by Corona of course). The vantage of affluent baby boomer economies still wants to be the driving force - and yes, now likely to be tested in post-Trump North America.  Even within this environment I say my greater joy is involvement with these very people come among us.  There is meaning here. As the world repopulates the privilege of faith is also our challenge - so much more important than seeking to align one political viewpoint versus another, or to win a dinner table discussion.  

My joy in these last months has been to discover new brothers and sisters in Christ who believe that they have found a people for whom the gospel of Jesus Christ is also the way of peace.  I hope for opportunity to do some reviewing on that very topic in our well-heeled churches.  The hope of these new immigrant friends is that they may join in our walk of faith. My hope is that we may learn to walk it together with them. There is so much to learn from neighbors, whether they happen to live next door, or whether they have traveled forever just to get here.  All of us immigrants need to be reminded we are still benefiting from our hosts, the Indigenous, who were here long before us colonialists arrived. 

A very good friend of mine, one worldly wise and considerably experienced in international things, recently responded to me after I had told him a couple of these stories, “Don’t worry if all is not accomplished as per plan. It never does. The important thing is to show up.  It’s the best one can do.”  I suppose you’re right again Abe.  Corona is teaching us the agony of not showing up, and even some new ways of showing up.  John 1:14 still says it quite well,  And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us (RSV).