Authentic Gratitude: A Homily For Thanksgiving

A Sermon for Harvest Thanksgiving Sunday (the Twentieth Sunday After Pentecost), Preached on 11 October, 2026, at Prince of Peace, Wasaga Beach, and Good Shepherd, Stayner,  Anglican Diocese of Toronto.   Readings for this Sunday:  Exodus 32.1-14, Psalm 106.1-6,19-23,  Philippians 4.1-9, Matthew 22.1-14

It’s Thanksgiving, the time when we take stock of our blessings.   Giving thanks is spiritual centre of this holiday.  Giving thanks, in our personal prayers and in our worship together,  comes from a place of gratitude.   This season of Thanksgiving reminds us that authentic gratitude comes from acknowledging our dependence on the God who sustains us.

The Christian write Anne Lamott has written that the best and the simplest prayers she knows are ‘help me, help me, help me” and “thank you, thank you, thank you”.     It’s a wise observation.   We might go beyond it to say that all prayers, or at least, all prayers that we typically pray, fall into the two categories of “please” and “thank you”.

Our “please help me” prayers are usually urgent, even desperate, as when we are racing to the hospital after receiving terrible news, or when we want the pain to stop.   “Please help” prayers are born of crisis.   We need help and we’ll try anything, even prayer.  

Gratitude, our “thank you” prayers, are harder, because we can easily forget them when a crisis has passed.   In Luke’s gospel, for example, Jesus meets ten lepers,  They shout “Jesus, master, have pity on us” (Lk 9:13).  Jesus heals them.  Nine go off happily, but only one turns back to say thank you.  Jesus bitterly remarks, ““Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this [one[?”

So it seems to me that we have to work at our “thank you” prayers because we can easily forget to be grateful when trouble has passed.  When a person gets a clean bill of health, they might just go “Phew, lucky me!”.   Praying “thank you Lord” is harder because we go deeper than just saying “lucky me”.  We have to actually give God credit for being with us, for providing for us and protecting us. Our “thank you” prayers don’t come easily.  Maybe that’s because the only time most of us are ok with depending on God is when we don’t know where else to turn.  

These last few weeks in church our first lessons have been from the book of Exodus as we follow the Israelites in the wilderness.   It’s a dangerous place.   The people are totally dependent on God.  They have no comforts, no food, no water, and so they blame Moses.   They were slaves but they look back and think “Man, slavery was better than dying in this desert”.  They stop trusting the God who has rescued them time and again, and they turn to a god of their own making, the golden calf.

It’s often said that the story of the Golden Calf is about idolatry, but it’s also a story of a Thanksgiving celebration that goes horribly wrong.  What’s particularly tragic about this episode is that it is an example of misplaced gratitude.   Not able to trust or understand the God they have, the Israelites want to give thanks on their own terms to gods of their own making, who will ask nothing of them in return. 

I think that we as a society can be a lot like the Israelites.  We don’t want to be dependent on God who asks us to do hard things, like love our neighbour, give of what we have, and renounce violence.  But we sure are ready to depend on gods of our own making that don’t ask much of us.  In Collingwood, where I live, it’s not uncommon to see luxury cars on the street.   High price restaurants and boutique stores abound.   Those with some spare millions can buy a luxury home in Blue Mountains and can join private ski and golf clubs.  Spas and cosmetic surgeons offer youth and beauty.  Sometimes I think a lot of folks here make a comfortable lifestyle into a religion, which is why some people appear so uncomfortable when they come to church for an occasion like a funeral.  Maybe they realize that church is where they meet a god who might actually ask something of them.

We may not make golden calves, but we are inclined to put our trust in gods that we can comprehend and which seem to offer security.  Our culture makes Gods which offer a sense of security and satisfaction, they tempt us to give them our trust and even gratitude that we have what others lack.  These are gods that we turn to with misplaced gratitude.  Being thankful to a God who makes demands on us is what I called earlier authentic gratitude.

Authentic gratitude is challenging because it makes us vulnerable – it exposes us to the needs of others and it does not meet every one of our perceived needs.  Authentic gratitude takes us away from ourselves and towards God, which is why in our prayer books we combine our thanks AND our praise.  Authentic gratitude means that we are grateful for the things that we hold in common with all humanity – the ability to love and be loved as creatures who all bear the image of God and who thus deserve equal dignity– and thus share what we have.

 

This Thanksgiving, may our gratitude be properly placed, with thanks and praise, in the living God who rescues us from sin and death, things that no god of our own making can do.    May our prayers of  “help me” be answered as we need and not as we deserve, and may our prayers of “thank you” be born of authentic gratitude which sees the love of God for all his creation and which compels us to love and share with our neighbours.

 

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Grapes Are Us: A Homily for the Nineteenth Sunday After Pentecost

Preached at All Saints, Collingwood, Anglican Diocese of Toronto, Sunday, October 4th, 2026, the Nineteenth Sunday After Pentecost (YrA).  Readings: Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20; Psalm 19; Philippians 3:4B-14; Matthew 21:33-46

Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom  (Mt 21.43)

Last Sunday we talked about Jesus’ authority.  Today’s gospel, assuming that we accept Jesus’ authority over our lives, asks us to think about how we show the results of following Jesus in our lives.  In talking about those results, Jesus uses a familiar metaphor of good fruits in the parable of the vineyard.

So let’s start by thinking about vineyards.  We all have our favourite places to visit, but I suspect that a lot of us like to visit a winery.   Joy and I love a winery visit, especially if it’s a sunny day, there’s a nice view, a delicious flight of wine and a tasty charcuterie plate.   But wineries are more than fancy restaurants and bottle stores.

When I visit a winery, I like to notice things like a shovel leaning against a shed, an ATV scooting around, or someone tending the vines.  These details remind me that a winery is a workplace, a factory designed to make good and abundant grapes to become delicious wine.  That’s the point of the winery, to produce good fruits.

Likewise, producing good fruits is the point of today’s gospel, which can be confusing.  We struggled with it in this week’s bible study.  There’s a political battle going on, between Jesus and his adversaries, the chief priests and religious leaders of Jerusalem.  That battle is a continuation of the argument over Jesus’ authority, which we talked about last week.   It’s a battle that Jesus seems to lose when he is executed but the resurrection is his victory and vindication as the Son of God.

So let’s just ask a simple question while focusing on the vineyard in the parable.  What does the vineyard represent?  Well, Jesus is drawing on a Jewish tradition of portraying Israel as a vine planted by God.   In fact, the parable is basically riffing on a passage from the prophet Isaiah:

The vineyard of the Lord Almighty
    is the nation of Israel,
and the people of Judah
    are the vines he delighted in.  (Is 5.7)

As in Isaiah, the owner of the vineyard in the parable takes care to protect and nurture the vines so that they are fruitful and protective.  So in the parable, the owner is God, the tenants are the chief priests, the slaves are the prophets who were often poorly received, and the owner’s son is Jesus.   The parable is thus a prediction of Jesus’ death (the sequence “they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him” mirrors Jesus’ arrest, expulsion from jerusalem to Golgotha, and his death there) but also an assertion of his authority.  When Jesus says he is the “the stone”, he’s quoting again, saying that he is the “stone” rejected by the “builders” (chief priests) and is now the “cornerstone”, the chosen one of God.

OK, all well and good, but how do we relate to the parable?  Where do we find or see ourselves in it?  Well, I’d say it’s clear that we are the grapes.   We are the ones that God has planted and lavished care on.  In Isaiah, God wants his vineyard Israel to grow good grapes that can make wine but all he gets are “wild grapes” (Isa 5.4).  The good grapes are the results of God’s people living by the covenant, the long agreement that God’s people would live well and respect God’s law.  

Law in scripture is God’s way of shaping God’s people.  In our first reading from Exodus, the law given to Moses is a kind of blueprint for what God wants his people to be once they finally arrive at the promised land.  The law is good because it comes from a God that is a liberating God, the God that brought them out of slavery.  The law is designed to orient the people towards God but also to orient the people to one another.   The law is designed to create a people that respects one another, that learns wisdom from its elders, that carves out time for rest, and which allows neighbours to live together in peace.  The spirit of the law is, if you will, the design for the garden or vineyard that God will plant when God’s people reach their destination, so they can grow and flourish as a people.

How does all this relate to us?  Well, I would say that if we want good grapes and good wine, we need to tend our vineyard.    The covenant idea of Israel as God’s vineyard does not apply to us directly, but I think it is helpful in understanding God’s expectations of us as beings that he has created. All that we are and all that we have is a reflection of what God has given us.   Our individual lives as disciples and our collective lives as church are vineyards that God has given us to tend.  

If we want to think of our own lives as vineyards that God has given us to tend, then God expects that we will be spiritually fruitful.  What does being spiritually fruitful mean?   St. Paul gives us a  famous example in Galatians, when he describes the Christian virtues as fruits of the spirit: “love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Gal 5.22-23). 

Our accountability to God can seem daunting if we think of it as a series of good deeds that we must produce, or laws and commandments that we must keep (I told you about my speeding ticket last week).   We can dispel this fear when we realize how badly God wants us to succeed and flourish.  In Isaiah 5, God sings a “love-song” to his vineyard, and asks “What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done in it?”  Creating the vineyard is God’s dearest project, and in Jesus’ parable, the landowner pours everything he can into saving the project, including sending his Son.  

The parable shouldn’t make us anxious when we realize that the son comes to us as the gardener, someone who wants us to thrive and bear good fruit.  We only bear good fruit because of Jesus.  We couldn’t do it without him.  In John’s gospel, Jesus says “I am the vine; ^ayou are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing” (Jn 15.5).   

Today’s parable teaches us that the goal of the Christian life is to be fruitful.  Traditionally the church saw fruitfulness as being expressed in acts of charity and piety.  A fruitful life was expressed in acts of love and kindness to the poor and in acts of devotion and worship to God. 

These definitions remain valid and worthy but today we might add to them – we can also see fruitfulness as the absence of racism and hatred, as healthy community, and as a care for the environment and the earth as part of God’s creation.  Fruitfulness can be expressed in a hundred small and practical ways, and like a good perennial plant it should be deeply rooted in our lives and sustained by our relationship with Jesus.  Jesus deeply wants us to be fruitful, to show something of the kingdom of God to those around us.   Being fruitful is to live our best life, to flourish as God intended.

My prayer for is is that we can be a fruitful vineyard, or if you will, that we can be a wonderful flight of wine, as varied as our personalities and talents.  Some of us are crisp chardonays, others are rich merlots, with here and there an ice wine or perhaps even a dandelion wine!  The point is that we all flourish and bear fruit if we are deeply rooted in Jesus, all of us a good vintage that will be pleasing to God and to others.

Should The Knee Bend? A Homily for the Eighteenth Sunday After Pentecost

Preached at All Saints, Collingwood, Anglican Diocese of Toronto, 27 September, 2026, the Eighteenth Sunday After Pentecost.   Texts for this Sunday:  Exodus 17:1-7, Psalm 78:1-4,12-16; Philippians 2:1-13; Matthew 21:23-32.  

When he entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, "By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” (Mt 21.23)

 

I got a speeding ticket this summer and hoo boy did I deserve it.  Going up that hill in Grey County at top speed was fun until the flashing lights came on.  The cop had me dead to rights, and I basically said as Ias much when I gave him my documents: “no excuse, I was being an idiot”.  He didn’t disagree with me.  The worst part of it was when he came back and said “With your driving record, I’m disappointed in you”.  That stung, like being rebuked by a parent.

Ethicists tell us that there are different types of authority.  A police officer has the right to stop us when we break the law - in ethics that is known as compulsory authority.   Our behaviour is also shaped by something called moral authority, which is summed up by the slogan “Do the Right Thing”.  Moral authority arises from a desire to do right.  During Covid, the church I was looking after had a sign outside that said  “Love wears a mask”.  We got some flack from people who saw not wearing a mask as a rights issue, but our sign was talking about moral authority.

Often the two kinds of authority overlap.  For example, compulsory authority slows us down when driving through school zones because we fear heavy fines, though moral authority slows us down because we just naturally don’t want to hurt children.  Most of us I think have a somewhat grudging relationship with compulsory authority because we don’t like to be told what to do, even when we are rightly pulled over for speeding.      However, that cop’s words, “I’m disappointed in you”, cut through to my awareness of moral authority, and they stung because I knew I had been irresponsible.

How does religion and authority work?   The bible, particularly the Hebrew Scriptures, speaks a lot of compulsory authority – the Torah, the first five books of the bible, are full of laws, especially the Ten Commandments, which Christians still recognize.   The “chief priests and elders” (Mt 21.23) who come to challenge Jesus in today’s gospel were experts in religious law and they were in charge.   They were the aristocratic, hereditary descendants of a priestly ruling class that the Romans kept in power to administer Palestine for them, so in essence a puppet theocratic government.

Today we associate theocracies with countries like Iran, and because Canada guarantees freedom of religion, we see our faith as a voluntary practice, meaning that we don’t think much about religion AND authority.  Our approach to religion can have a comsumerist mindset.  We choose the churches we like, we follow the bible and preaching if we agree with them, and how we manage our relationship with God is pretty much up to us.  I think it fair to say that if Jesus has any authority over our lives, it is moral authority, so that we follow him because we agree with him, and not because he orders us around.   Is that the way it should be?

In actual fact, scripture talks a lot about Jesus’ authority.  The word itself, from the Greek word exousia, meaning power, occurs 88 times in the New Testament.  Usually exousia means power, as when Jesus has power to drive out demons and heal people, but usually it is power that is given to someone, like the power given to a policeman, or what I’ve called compulsory authority.  Today’s gospel reading comes after Jesus has driven out the moneylenders and claimed it as “My house” (Mt 21.13), so when the chief priests come to interrogate Jesus they are asking about his authority in a human sense of who made you the boss of this place?  

In answering the chief priests with another question, about John and whether his baptism came from heaven,   Jesus is claiming that his authority comes from God in heaven, setting up the final challenge between Jesus versus the priests, Herod, and Pilate that leads to the cross.   What Jesus is saying obliquely now in the temple, he says plainly in his final, post-resurrection words to his disciples: “All authority in heaven and on earth as been given to me” (Mt 28.18).  Here, at the end of Matthew’s gospel, Jesus merely confirms what others – crowds, demons, cured men and women, have known all along, that Jesus’ authority comes from God (Mt 7.29, 9.6).

If therefore we seriously wish to be followers and disciples of Jesus, we have to admit that as God’s son he has been given authority over us, that Jesus has a claim on how we lead out lives.  For the early Christians, Jesus was kyrios, lord, and no one on earth, not even Caesar, could rival him.  Considering that earthy rules were mostly cruel tyrants, the lordship of Jesus was welcome because if offered a freedom and a dignity that the bulk of society – the poor, women and children, slaves – were never granted by their rulers.  So how do we understand the authority of Jesus?  Do we welcome it?

Our second reading from Philippians tells us that we have no reason to fear Jesus’ authority.   Paul says that Jesus is “highly exalted” by God, that he is above anyone else, so that at his name “every knee should bend” (the Greek is simply kampto, will bend).   Does every knee have to bend?  Paul is saying that Jesus has the authority to compel our obedience, but he voluntarily sets it aside, so in the words of one of the first Christian hymns, “he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness” and further, “he humbled himself” and obeyed the father’s will.    The cross for Paul is where power and dignity as we understand them in earthly terms go to die.   The power of emperors and presidents is revealed as being petty and hollow and small.    True power, God’s power and authority, are revealed in love and service and sacrifice.

Philippians tells us that while God’s compulsory authority is absolute, God makes himself known to us in moral authority, in the Son who lives and dies to save us. To live the Christian life, we follow this moral authority – as Paul says, we imitate the humility of Jesus on the cross, we don’t think of our own needs before we first think of the way of others.   In the kingdom of heaven, there are no emperors or presidents, there are only servants, who serve one another.      We don’t follow Jesus because we must.  We follow because we are convinced that we should.

Living as a subject of the kingdom of God means that we learn to see authority differently.   There are lots of things that the world sees as authoritative – raw power, the will to win at all costs, wealth, privilege, institutionalized racism and inequality – that, if we see them through God’s eyes, look pitiful and empty.   In the kingdom of God, authority lies in surprising places. Authority is giving food and drink to the hungry and thirsty.  Authority is loving a neighbour who is not like us but still seeing God’s image in them.   Authority is the dignity of the worker.  Authority is care of the sick, authority is teaching, authority is patience, authority is love.    All authority in the kingdom of God is moral because it flows from the heart of God’s goodness and love.   We obey Jesus, not because we must, but because we find the freedom God intended for us in his service.

 

Joy In Faith: A Homily For Welcome Back Sunday

 A Homily for Welcome Back Sunday.  Preached at All Saints, Collingwood, Anglican Diocese of Toronto, 20 September, 2026, the Seventeenth Sunday After Pentecost (A).

Readings for Today:  Ex 16:2-15; Ps 105:1-6, 37-45; Phil 1:21-30; Mt 20:1-16

We call this welcome back to church Sunday, and so if you are new here, or if you haven’t been here in a long while, welcome back!  It’s good to see you.   And of course for you, the faithful regulars, we welcome you and are happy to see you every Sunday.

So when we say welcome back, what are we welcoming you to?

To be sure, we’re welcoming you back to a place with a specific address, a building and its grounds on Elgin Street.

If you’ve been away for a while, you’ll notice that we’ve made some changes to the building.  Our tireless Building Manager, Robert, has been busy.  The half of our parking lot that used to be a lake when snow melted and when it rains has been levelled and gravel applied, so it’s drier.  And there’s more spaces to park in.

Robert is also installing new railings on ramp from the parking lot, which is now more attractive and safer!  We have a project ongoing to bring sound and video into the parish hall, which will be useful for rental purposes and for overflow from big church services.  

So we’re welcoming you to a physical space, and we are also welcoming you back to ministry, because this place exists to serve the community as part of our Christian witness  In a few minutes  Barry and the choir will speak musically to that ministry.  The offerings on our altar today speak to our food ministry, as we obey Christ’s command to feed and clothe those in need.  And of course our ministry serves the community in times of sorrow, as with the funeral we held here on Friday, and in times of joy, as with the wedding here yesterday.

And, as with our building, you will noticer some new things about our ministry.  We welcome Rev Amy Pauley to an expanded role as a full time Associate Priest serving the four churches of our region.   Amy brings prayerfulness and a deep faith, as well as humour and vitality, to our clergy team.  Taking her on full time is a significant financial commitment, shared by All Saints  and by our friends at Prince of Peace, and helped by a generous five year diocesan grant.  Another change is that our beloved Rev Sharon and her husband Bryce are now honourary members of our clergy team.  And of course all of our paid staff help make our ministries possible.

So we’re welcoming you back to a building and to the ministries that the building and its staff enable, but most importantly, I would say, we are welcoming you back to a community that is centred around Jesus.   We have our differences of course - age, wealth, education, place of birth, etc - but they shouldn’t be important.  Today’s gospel reminds us that, like the workers in the vineyard, we are equal in the sight of God, all loved equally, and asked in return only that we do our best to love God and love our neighbour.

In our second reading today, we heard Paul speaking to a Christian church and praising their “progress and joy in faith” (Phil 1.25).  I see this joy in faith when we gather, on Sundays, especially when we share the peace.   All Saints has a particular, joyful identity.   We enjoy one another’s company, our worship is reverential but also uplifting, and we are hopeful because the risen, loving Jesus is in our midst.   Each of our four regional churches has its own identity, but I think what characterizes All Saints is a sense of joyfulness.

Over the next few months, our Stewardship Group will lead us through a campaign that we call Joyful Giving.  Giving can be time and talent as a volunteer, but it is also treasure, giving back from the resources we are given    All of the things I’ve mentioned - our building and grounds, our clergy and staff, our ministries and services - come with a cost and need to be paid for.   Yes, we have the cemetery land, but it isn’t sold yet. When we do sell it, the proceeds will help us with our needs, but our needs won’t go way.

So today, my friends, I’m inviting you to think what coming back to church means to you.   What do you find here at All Saints that gives you joy?   What is it about your faith that makes you grateful?    What would make you glad that you’ve helped All Saints and its ministry continue well into the future?

Guest Homily: Grassy Narrows, A Case Study In Creation And Reconciliation

A Sermon Preached by Our Deacon, The Rev. Lorna May, at Prince of Peace, Wasaga Beach, abd St Luke's, Creemore, on Sunday, Sept 13th, the Sixteenth Sunday After Pentecost.

The world we know it is  changing irreversibly with unbearable heat, flash floods and forest fires.   For many this has developed into deep grief and  anxiety as we are concerned for our future. Our Diocese is acknowledging the season of creation, where we are  asked to consider the the Living Water.  We are reminded that water binds all things. 

I am going to share with you what I have learned,  through reading,  and speaking with  Elders about  their home in Grassy Narrows. 

First the mink and the otters started to disappear.  Then the local people began noticing the odd way the vultures and eagles were flying.  One man watched his kitten salivating and walking in circles and convulsing.  These were early warning signs around 1970 that something  sinister was happening in Grassy Narrows along side the English-Wabagoon rivers in norther western Ontario.  

Grassy Narrows is  a small Anishanaabe  First Nation band 80 km north of Kenora with traditional roots in Northwestern Ontario who continue celebrating  and preserving traditions in Indigenous culture and  living.   Their land is part of the boreal forest  where the land sustains them both physically and spiritually and they  are committed to protecting it  guided by the wisdom of their elders, the strength of their youth, and  the teaching of their culture as  they work together to build  a healthier , stronger future for all.  They continue to support  each other in healing,  growth and cultural pride.  Situated on the English-Wabagoon River system, there are over 1600 registered  members, with about 1000  living on the reserve.   

For decades the people of Grassy Narrows have lived with mercury  contamination  in their river system.  Between 1962 and 1970 The Dryden paper mill released 9 thousand kilograms of mercury used in the bleaching process  into their river system.  Through the 70’s,  they  continued generating airborne mercury  emissions until  late into the 80’s.   In 1986 the Ontario Ministry of the Environment  released an assessment that advised against dredging the water system thus relying on the natural  process of the  river cleaning itself over the next decades.

This community  depended on the fish for food and their thriving commercial fishing industry.  The people of Grassy Narrows relied on that river for generations, consumed the fish and suffered the consequences.   So what  happened?  Not surprising  livelihoods disappeared, and the community entered a cycle of  harm that has never been resolved. 

I was recently part of a webinar that heard from Sandra, a young woman from Grassy.    She spoke about the ongoing efforts to seek accountability and justice.  She described the familiar pattern:   land contamination, poisoned water and the slow generational harm that follows.   Growing up Sandra recalls her mother going to the river to haul water, and melting snow in the water because clean drinking  water was not always  available.  At the time she did not fully understand.  Today some can afford bottled or filtration systems but many cannot.  Later, she learned that mercury  had entered her own body through the land and food systems.   Moose, fish and other animals were all affected by the industrial contamination .  She says “ no one ever talks about disabilities  being connected to the land”.  Environmental harm is often described  vaguely, as if it is only in the air, disconnected from peoples bodies.   But for Indigenous communities, the land, water  and body are inseparable.   When the land is poisoned, people are poisoned.   Elders in the community remember  when the water was safe, when people could fish and swim and live according to the teachings passed down from generations.   They have also witnessed what happens when those ways of life are  disrupted.  Loss of livelihood , declining health, increased mental health issues  are not isolated circumstances, but have rippled through the community.  It  has been confirmed that 90 per cent of the people in Grassy have mental health, addictions, or physical limitations such as tremors,  numbness, impaired vision, neurological  damage and chronic pain, ADHD, anxiety, and shorter life spans all  due to the  mercury in their systems.  The entire community is sick.   Can we even imagine what that would be like to live in day in and day out?  

When children started having difficulties as infants they were taken to the hospital where doctors told them it could not possibly be mercury poisoning.  They blamed it on   it was their life choices,  intergenerational marriages,  neurologists told parents that there children simply had birth defects.  It wasn’t until  1975 when a Dr. From Japan  diagnosed  Minamata disease which is severe methyl mercury poisoning.  Scientists have continued their research with follow up visits.  What is shocking is the fact that Canadian scientists have not investigated the human health effects of the poisoning.   There has not been any long term tracking  are what now understood to be life long effects of ingested mercury. In 2010 Canadian science did disclose  that “ there should have been extensive examinations and followups”.  Should have.  ..   Of course  if we think about it , nursing students  were taught never to touch a thermometer if it had been dropped and broken during to contact with mercury due to the serious health risks.     Doctors now understand that methyl mercury passes through the placenta to the fetus, causing irreversible central nervous system damage, and severe cognitive defects, even if the mother showed now symptoms herself. 

It’s important to understand that the impacts of the poisoning go far beyond the physical illness.  When land and water are no longer safe entire social systems unravel.  Families struggle to care for their children.  Substance use, violence and  suicide increase.  Child welfare systems intervenes. Employment opportunities  disappear,, and all of this from environmental  harm.  

When I was speaking with Judy this week she told me that  in the early 80’s  some  youth from Grassy Narrows  moved to Kenora  to try and find work.  They were not welcomed.   The word on the street was “ let those Indians stay numb, we don’t want immigrants here”.  Shameful.   For some families whose youth ventured away this brought  up the pain and horror of residential schools which then ,  increased the use of drugs and alcohol for the families trying to cope.   Judy herself went to a residential school, and it was very difficult for  her to speak to me about this last week. 

Through all this the Elders  see hope in how people have refused to remain silent  about Grassy Narrows.   The community has spent years challenging  governments and industries , asserting treaty rights and demanding accountability .  They are passionate about forcing  systems to recognize  and admit formally,  that economic gain cannot come and the cost of human life.   Every human has the right to  dignified living conditions.   It means acknowledging wrong doing, compensating communities that  have been harmed, and ensuring that future generations are protected.   

 Water is sacred, and it is what keeps our planet sustainable.   The people of Grassy Narrows challenge faith groups to see environmental justice as a responsibility and to listen  to Indigenous voices , especially Elders  and people living with disabilities  caused by environmental disruption. 

What kind of world will be left four or five generations from now if these harms continue unchecked?   Justice continues  with listening and acting before it is too late. 

 So how are things today in Grassy NarrowS?  Well, the heavy metal continues to contaminate the water. Every day mining, logging  and the combustion of fossil fuels release more waste into the river  to continue the dangerous  ascent into the food chain.  The interest for scientists has faded.  Government monitoring has tapered off and  the hand bound research reports now gather dust in libraries.  

Have you noticed that there are certain natural  disasters, situations that headline the news each day.  There are positive things happening all around us for  sure.  As Christians we gather week by week  to give thanks for this land we call home,  to encourage either other,  and to continue our calling to go into the world that God loves.  We do it in small ways, any way we can to make our part of the world  a better place.   It may not make the news but its often what matters the most.  

On Wednesday September 23rd I will be  participating in the River Run: Walk with Grassy Narrows for Justice.  The people of Grassy have the longest running blockade in Canadian history which has helped foster Indigenous  resistance across Turtle Island  and has saved 15 million trees from being cut.  They will speak out and ask why the Care Home originally promised by the Government for 2017 is being completed by 2027.   They will ask that community members be compensated fairly for the mercury crisis.  They will ask that the Dryden mill be stopped to end the nuclear waste that threatens Grassy.  They will ask for support  to restore their community  and way of life from the damage that mercury has done while proposals for new mines and  a nuclear waste disposal  site threaten to make things worse. 

My hope is that we can all in our own lives be aware of how we can respect the clean water that we have.  Research if you don’t know how to properly dispose of hazardous materials, reduce chemical use, minimize the use of chemical fertilizers and pesticides  and clean up pet waste so that bacteria does not wash into lakes and streams during storms. Learn more about the   Government of Canada Clean Water Plan.  Because we are privileged. 

The people of Grassy Narrow have for over 50 years struggled with basic human rights over the poisoning of the English-Wabagoon rivers. 

I pray that as members of this Diocese that we  will stand  with Grassy Narrows until the water runs clean and the people are heard. I speak in the name of the living and loving God. 

Amen .