Hiraeth

The return of Zellers has been much discussed this week, as the nostalgia has run high in many circles. The reality of the 2023 Zellers, however, is expected to be much different from the Zellers of the past, from prices to product availability to market prevalence. What was a unique discount chain is now 12 new stores re-opened as a subset of a mid- to higher-end retail business group.

The nostalgia is strong, however… as one social media post summed up the situation: “You don’ miss Zellers because of the hot chicken sandwich. You miss Zellers because you were 13 and didn’t have a mortgage.” As amusing as that is, it’s not inaccurate… a comparison of financial realities that the average Canadians have lower purchasing power that when Zellers hit its heyday.

This particular nostalgia has its own name in Welsh: hiraeth – a yearning for a place from the past, a grief for a lost place that cannot be returned to.

While the Zellers return is tapping into our collective nostalgia and hiraeth, we know that any new memories will be different; as we are different, the store is different, and the world is different. And so we are welcomed to embrace the new Zellers as a new expression of building memories and experiences.

So what happens when we apply this same concept and framework to other institutions? Schools, social and cultural organisations… the church even! If we are limited to seeing our places of connection only as something from the past, then we are likely to miss the possibilities of the present. 

Yet God invites us to live into the new church, one that is informed by the past but not restricted by it, a place where the mission of loving one another is the primary consideration. A place where nostalgia is lovely and heart-warming, but is not the driving force of moving into the future.

COVID really shook up how we see ourselves and our associations and connections; and in our current world people tend to be more intentional with their connections. Yes, we are seeking the comfort of the past, but we must be careful not to be trapped by the hiraeth – for that would prevent us from the abundant life and ministry to which God is always calling us.

Bless Your Heart

I heard the word ‘bless’ a lot last week… in chapel prayers, in conversations, in music, overheard in unexpected ways at the coffee shop.

Perhaps my favourite was in a discussion with a friend about time for planning, and I mentioned I had walked about 3km in the commute. “Bless your heart,” said my friend, “I have no idea what a kilometre is.”

After our Canadian/USAmerican giggles stopped, our discussion went into the variance of the word ‘bless.’ For we know that it can be colloquially used as a negative (even song lyrics suggest that blessing to be more of a curse), we both agreed that when we say (and hear) the word bless, we opt to presume the best.

Bless your heart to my friend is not a veiled insult, but rather an expression of care. When she uses it, she means that her heart wishes the best for the heart and soul of the person she’s talking with. I agreed, indicating that in my daily use, I have truncated it to ‘bless’ with the same intention. 

Importantly, for us, such regular and repeated use of the word has not diminished nor dissipated the impact and intent. Rather, we say and hear it as an opportunity to consider how to bless and wish the best for the people we encounter. 

So whether it is the security guard who asked my denomination before offering me a heartfelt “God bless you!” as I walked through the metal detector, or the woman in the coffee line ahead of me sarcastically speaking “well, bless his cheating self” into her cell phone -  each gave me the chance to pause in prayer, and to ask God’s blessings.

For me, the privilege is to orient my mind and heart towards the positive, regardless of the intention of the speaker of the word. So bless my heart when I speak in kilometres, and bless the undercaffeinated who have been wronged, and bless the folks who lead prayers and those who sing God’s praise and those who merely think the word is verbal punctuation. Bless their hearts - for we receive a blessing when we choose to also bless. 

Mystical Snow

I had opportunity to shovel snow this week. 

As a Canadian, this is not a surprising turn of events in the winter months. 

However, this time I was shovelling with some friends; we we’re working together to clear the driveway. 

It was one of those clear, beautiful evenings where the flakes were continuing to descend, floating carelessly through the air. It was almost mystical to experience the silence, as though we could reach through the veil of this world and encounter the divine directly. 

While I realize there are scientific reasons for the silence during a snowfall, I also recognize that mysticism is like a snowfall. It catches our attention, as it inspires us to look deeper into the reality that we are dwelling within. It fires within us a yearning for something more, increased understanding, deeper meaning. The presence of the divine is undeniable, in how we feel, how we engage, and how we interact with one another.

The precise moment cannot be captured, but it may be remembered. It cannot be contained physically, but it will continue to hold a place in our hearts. It may not be astonishing to everyone who is there, but to those who are open to receive it, the glory of God is there.

Like snowflakes: unique, precious, abundant (more than desired at times!), the grace of God flows and amasses in our lives. And how we choose to acknowledge one to this grace, alone or with people we care about, is entirely our decision. 

Our time of shovelling may not be the experience that many would consider to be holy (for it is such a regular occurrence, often considered a chore to be endured or outsourced to children or entrepreneurs) For myself, it was sacred: we were gathered for a shared purpose for the benefit of us all, we were laughing as we engaged in the requisite task, and we did the work that was before us. And there was play. It was lovely. 

The mystics teach us about finding the presence of the divine in the ordinariness of everyday life. The presence of God is undeniable, even in such mundane moments as shovelling snow. The holiness comes to us when we recognize the holy presence is as ordinary as a snowflake.