Growing up in the 21st Century has been a dance between progress and loneliness. Sure, there are perks—like technology, when used wisely. It’s connected us globally, opened doors to endless […]
As a child growing up in church, I heard and read these words by Jesus countless times. God’s kingdom is ‘here’, it’s ‘close’, it’s ‘coming’. Yet, little did I know just how close that kingdom of God really is! Or that I would discover it in truly unexpected ways …
Miranda’s faithful habit of letter writing was part of her gift for bringing others into her life. So was the Harris’s family table. In the early days of the couple’s ministry, Miranda famously spent their first earnings on a large dining room table.
The love of stuff justifies consuming people in the name of production, progress, and the maintenance of privilege. It also justifies the voracious plunder of our planet with no regard for the delicately balanced web of life, its most vulnerable members, or for the living conditions of future generations. And it eats away at our very soul.
I attended Au Sable in 1993 and started dreaming about opening a Canadian Christian environmental school. It was why I became involved in A Rocha. In 2015 several of us had the idea to open a fish hatchery and nature centre and the community got excited.
The Oxford English Dictionary has announced its ‘Word of the Year for 2016’ in both the UK and USA is ‘post-truth’. In a year that has seen bitterly divisive campaigns in the Brexit referendum and the US election, and a rise in political extremism in various parts of the world, it is clear that we have entered a toxic era of fear and uncertainty about what to believe and who to trust.
Sometimes people tell me they think A Rocha is only about the environment. It’s not. It’s about all of us. It’s about transforming people and places by being a community where people and places thrive together.
Some would say that Debbie’s transformation and impact aren’t the stuff of ‘planet-saving’ but at A Rocha we think they most certainly are.
‘So, how’s the commune?’, the man asks. I answer, ‘It’s great, but it’s not a commune. It’s a community.’ He laughs. ‘Can’t fool me. Lots of people. Organic gardens. Shared living spaces. Sauna. You’re a commune.’ We’re not! I want to protest. And then I wonder, Why am I feeling so defensive?
We were often asked to study the wildlife of areas in need of conservation, but even more often groups came to Aammiq to see how a community dialogues and decides to restrain itself from more and more consumption of land, resources, and wildlife to the benefit of all and for a heritage to be passed on to future generations.
