A Canadian is often stereotyped as a polite person who obsesses over hockey, eats meals saturated with maple syrop, scoffs at large quantities of snow, and/or wears an RCMP uniform. More or less. And a Christian is defined, literally and loosely, as one who follows Christ—bringing us to the conclusion that a Canadian Christian is a courteous, maple syrop-guzzling Christ-follower. Right?
Unhelpful logic aside, it might be more accurate to say that Canadian Christians generally don’t preach much on street corners, rarely confuse Parliament for the pulpit, and have to pay more taxes and wade through political correctness—and snow—of a thicker consistency than Christians south of the border. I would hazard to guess that your average Canadian Christian (henceforth to be referred to as “CC”) is not a spiritual superhero (a person in a position of pastoral leadership, faith-driven political leadership, or a missionary abroad). Rather she is a person who drags herself out of bed in the morning, pours coffee on her cereal accidentally and has to stifle feelings of unholy rage when the referee makes a bad call against a favourite hockey team. Our CC is human, trying his best to live by faith and God’s grace in an oh-so-secular environment. Hopefully a CC’s life is marked by giving God his due during everyday tasks, in the use of talents and time, in thought and attitude, in word and action—whether or not large quantities of poutine are consumed concurrently.
Generalizations are easy to make, so it might be more helpful, or at least more challenging, to examine what a typical day might look like for a CC, as it may prove representative of the struggles, challenges and attitudes that a mass of CCs regularly experience. Let’s take a peek.
After the alarm goes off, CC prays for Friday, only to find that it’s Tuesday; prays instead for strength to get out of bed and face the day. At the bus stop, in an effort to practice thankfulness, tries to say thanks for Tuesday, but does not quite come across as sincere. Maybe reads the Bible on the bus, praying for the ability to be obedient. Catches up with coworkers, sifts through email, says quick prayer for God to preside over day’s activities. Tries to wade through the politically correct mire of the day to shine a bit of love, conviction, invitation and grace, without apologizing. Thanks God for 12:00, lunch, a free park bench, and 5:00. Despite being tired, tries to see the bus driver/café staff/fellow pedestrians as God’s beloved. Tries to love spouse/children/neighbours/friends/strangers more, to follow Christ’s example. Tries to love the frozen pizza that’s for supper. Tries to find a quiet time and place for prayer, but sleep calls. Until the alarm buzzes rudely the next morning and CC does it all again.
We could say that CCs’ expressions of faith are understated; we could say that the typical Canadian politeness and tolerance extends to the realm of faith, so that CCs’ interaction with those of other faiths, or no faith, is non-confrontational in nature. But when you look behind the politeness and pleasant demeanor of the CC sitting on the bus next to you, perhaps puzzling over a chapter in Exodus, you’ll find a person trying to live by means of God’s grace, just like Christians the world over. And there is comfort in that unifying factor.
By Tara Briggs-Kirkey
April 2008
No comments:
Post a Comment