Soulmate and Mentor

As we walk through life and manage to accumulate so many ideas and thoughts about where we fit into the grand scheme of things, we sometimes meet a person who by association aids in our search for the ultimate answer; we tend to find our comfort zone while in their company. One such person was Dr. J.W.E. Newbery. Maybe it was coincidence, but this United Church minister also married my wife's parents early in his ministry in Sudbury.

Years later when I decided to return to University full time, the first person I met when I went to register was Rev. Newbery. He was welcoming the students to the young university and although he was the principal of Huntington College he was right there in the mix of students, boxes and books. A shock of white hair and a smile a mile wide put you at ease and when he heard I was majoring in Philosophy and Religious Studies he gave me some special attention.

He was the head of the Philosophy Dept and Religious Studies and immediately made me feel at home when he said there was a $300 bursary that was available if I applied. That got my attention as I was married with a family and needed every penny. I hadn't set up a home at this point but he helped and after we had tea with his family I left with a list of good places to live, $300 bursary and a box of required reading for the philosophy courses.

From the very beginning Dr. Newbery and I became bonded. There was something special about this man's demeanour when he talked about religion. I connected when he told me he was working on a new curriculum involving spirituality derived from aboriginal peoples' beliefs. I had just returned from Northern Ontario where I shared two summers with Cree Indians and I was keenly into their culture. Our class was 10 people and we were able to share feelings and personal beliefs with the Dr. However we did much listening as this man espoused a type of new philosophy with a balanced mixture of bible, great works, native cultures of the world, and Christianity, with universal currency.

The four years I studied under Dr. Newbery were life changing. They brought the best of me to the forefront and convinced me to stay with education and forget about working for the church as my type of spirituality would make it be too confining. Dr, Newbery challenged me by giving me assignments to preach at various churches in Ontario who required a minister for special occasions or special subjects. I loved the work and the pay was good but I finally realized I was not speaking from conviction and refused further work. It was at this time I began to have a free and open discussion with Dr. Newbery about what I had accepted as my guide to life and the acceptance of the natural order of things as a reasonable alternative to organized church with all the rules, myths and dogma. I basically found peace and Dr. Newbery openly said that he had a similar experience and still  found comfort in the organized church and I might find that to be true later in life.

Dr. Newbery lived to be 96 and when he passed away a great scholar was lost to the academic fellowship of the university. His legacy was building bridges between faith communities. He developed native studies programs for universities and was awarded citations for his work with native communities within the penal system. A life long member of Amnesty International and human rights commissions earned him the Order Of Canada. For work in recognition of Native Spirituality he was awarded the standing of Honorary Elder a gift he treasured.

Dr. Newbery was close to the David Suzuki Foundation and supported it until his death. He wrote a short poem which I suppose summarises his beliefs.

O God around me,
Your spirit is the great wind
and the quiet breath of every creature.
Everything is alive in You
and towards You all things are moving.
                                                                                                               
E. Newbery

Mother's Day in Ardbeg 1957

Ardbeg was a village hidden way back off the beaten path. By nature this town was special; a small grouping of houses far away from a main road but on the main line of the CNR. This small village had a one room school and very little else except children.

I was the principal of the local school and a lay preacher at the time and was called out to take service from time to time, to help the resident minister who had a five point charge. My minister was having a special Mother's Day service followed by a luncheon and family activities at his main charge. He asked me if I could take the service at Ardbeg. He warned me that it would be a service like no other I ever had and not to expect too much.

He gave me some short and long prayers which he deemed appropriate. I wrote a casual sermon extolling the virtues of motherhood and so on. I asked my girl friend to come along and read the long prayer which I wrote. It was a long drive and I never knew the way on the back roads. She was from the area and was familiar with the village. She also knew what to expect. Service was to begin around 1:30 pm and last for a while.

We arrived at the schoolhouse and it was locked. A young chap at the adjoining ball field said he would get the key. He was gone for quite a while but returned with his mother and six children. She apologized but said that she thought there would be no church as there was to be a ball game there at 2 pm.

I told her I was the preacher for the day and yes there would be a service. We waited nervously in the classroom and tried to give some order to the room to make it look like a church. After half an hour some children wandered in and a mother who looked so poorly I was shaken. There were now two women, twenty seven children attending and every seat was filled. I scrapped the service order and we opened with a short but caring prayer followed by several well known hymns sung and led by the haggard lady. She also played the piano and led the children in their little hymns.

At sermon time I sat on one of the desks and talked to the children like a school teacher and we had a discussion about mothers. These little children told me more about what a mother was than I ever realized. I never knew at the time that this little town was where many unmarried ladies lived with their children away from the prying eyes of the holy. At this time church society was not so kind to people in this situation.

I had a living moment in the trials of people who never met the mold of church society. The two ladies made Freshie and produced from nowhere cookies for the children. After closing the service I was reminded by a little red headed boy that we never took up the collection. I said it was alright this week but he insisted as it was his turn. We took the collection and had the little hymn and he proudly came and gave me the collection in an envelope. $.35 he shouted, better than last week. We all smiled and understood that here was a real living church with needy people. I was reminded of the well known verse which said that wherever two or more are gathered in my name I am there also.

We shook hand and said goodbye and Roma and I never spoke for a while. I helped out many more times taking service but I never left at the end of the day feeling like I did on Mother's Day in 1957.

Aite Breagh

As a youngster I had the opportunity to attend the church summer camp at Orangedale, Cape Breton. All of our family attended this camp and all had the same basic reaction. This camp , although church funded and directed gave we kids the opportunity to be together with about 100 others of the same age and engage in activities so inviting that you never forget the experience.

Bible study, morning watch, breakfast and then activities. Morning watch was a time when you go some place alone and think about your place in the group, your home, the world and your relationship with a higher power. I used this time to try to imagine who God was and the role he or she would play in my life. Even then I had difficulty in perceiving God as a power which would send his son to earth to save your soul and make it possible that you could get to heaven. As a 12 year old this was a heavy duty chore. I tried and never reached the point where I was comfortable with the concept.

Sports and water events allowed us to forget the lofty ideals and to be kids again. Ten days of this and the camaraderie developed at meal time and campfire brought us so close that departing was a painful experience and there was not a dry eye when we departed to our homes. I personally attended this camp for 5 years and it left a mark on my life and stirred my curiosity about all things philosophical. My major at university drew me to even more questions than answers.

Today with every child coming in contact with religions and culture so different than our own there are options.Young people could be well served if the camp model could include not only people who think alike and practise a similar cultural way of life but include people with diverse backgrounds and cultural mores. This would enable our young people to function in our multicultural society secure in their own beliefs, but accepting others openly.

Aite Breagh meant bend in the river or lake, and it prepared us for what was around the bend in real life. I shall always be grateful for that experience.

Church in Ikaluktutiak

Going to church as a youngster was not a choice because every member of our family except Dad attended 100% of the time.I still have my new testament presented to me for perfect attendance. Church was fun sometimes but mostly I was not connected to what was being said as the ritual seemed more important than the message. Another reason was the fact I was unable to sit quietly for more than three minutes.

While living in Ikaluktutiak I was drawn to the little Anglican church. I was in charge of funerals and attended every funeral and special occasion held in the church. Come Sunday church was held twice in the morning. One service was conducted by the elders in Inuinaktun, a dialect of Inultitut. I was striving to learn the local language as I used it working with my Inuk workers.

Since I knew all the hymns and some of the prayers and scriptures I attended the early service. I was the only white person and was warmly greeted. I often was invited to say a few words and welcomed the opportunity to join. Inuks have a high pitched voice range and a sorrowful wail when sad such as at a funeral. Blended together, a beautiful sound came when singing their favourite hymn, Amazing Grace. The elders held the service every Sunday without the benefit of a minister or priest. When a priest or Bishop came to the hamlet he re-concreted the elders and they carried on.

There was a small pipe organ in the church and a blind, deaf boy played on this instrument before service and after. The locals thought he had special powers and listened. The music sounded terrible, more like a cow being milked with cold hands but everyone accepted the little fellow's contribution.

I learned some Inuinaktan and quickly learned and became friends with all the ladies of the congregation as only a handful of men attended. This connect helped me with the wellness committee and the hamlet in general.

This was a far cry from church as I recalled but I was influenced and impressed how the Inuit blended their traditional beliefs with the Anglican order of service. Without understanding the language I probably came as close to god as I did when I attended church as a youngster not knowing what they were saying or trying to say.

In the Arctic my church was the great outdoors and the natural order of things where the people tried to live in harmony with the land and each other. After my five years up north I came away a better person more understanding of where I fit in the grand scheme of the universe.