On Artillery

The Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity

LORD we pray thee that thy grace may always prevent and follow us, and make us continually to be given to all good works; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

While there aren't really any cannons in the Anglican Church, there are multiple canons. Canon is an honorary title awarded to both clergy and laity for recognition of service to the church. Canons may also refer to rules of the Church. In the Anglican Church of Canada, there is currently a great deal of debate over proposed amendments to Canon XXI of the Church which governs the rules for the sacrament of Holy Matrimony. Canons of this type exist dating back to the earliest days of the Church. When the Ecumenical Councils gathered, the decisions they reached were released in the form of Canons, lists of numbered rules that had been agreed upon.

There is a third form of canon, however, which is the Canon of Scripture. The Canon of Scripture refers to the list of accepted books of the Bible in both the old and new testaments. To be canonical is to be accepted as authoritative, while being non-canonical indicates that the book is not authoritative as Scripture, though it does not necessarily mean that the rejected text contains false teachings.

The Canon of Scripture speaks to a seemingly simple question: where does the Bible come from, and how do we know it is the authoritative word of God?

We have two testaments, so the answer to these questions becomes two-fold.

In the time of Christ, references are made to the Scriptures, but of course these would have been to what we now consider the Old Testament. The Scriptures given to the Jews over the centuries. While the early heresy of Marcionism sought to reject the Old Testament, suggesting it described another god, separate from God the Father revealed by Jesus Christ, all Christians accepted the authority of the Old Testament books of the Bible, in continuity and interpreted through the lens of revelation in Jesus Christ.

While in general the Old Testament was universally accepted by orthodox Christians, there are a few points of division. The most substantive change comes from the two histories of the texts, the Septuagint Greek Old Testament and the Masoretic Hebrew Old Testament. By the time of Christ, the majority of Jews were Jews of Diaspora living outside of ancient Israel and most often speaking the lingua franca of the ancient world, Greek. Because they spoke and read Greek, the Scriptures were written down in Greek and read in Greek. It would not have been unusual for many Jewish communities to not contain a single person capable of reading the Hebrew texts.

For the first few decades after the Resurrection, Christianity was viewed by many as being simply a subset of Judaism. Over time, however, and especially after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem by the Romans in 70 AD, they became viewed as separate. Partly because of the fact that Christians were using the Septuagint text and that they wanted to distinguish themselves as “proper” Jews, the Jewish authorities developed the Masoretic Hebrew text of the Hebrew Scriptures. In doing this, they adjusted their canon of Scripture, removing a few books which had previously been considered canonical and authoritative. The organization of some books was also adjusted.

This initially had a limited impact on Christianity and the Canon of the Old Testament until the time of Continental Reformation in the 16th century.  Between that time, Christian translations of the Bible would sometimes use both the Masoretic and Septuagint sources, with the canon remaining fixed by the Septuagint tradition. By the time of the Reformation, however, a number of reformers suggested that because the Jews had removed some of the books of the Old Testament from their canon, we ought to as well. Today, most Protestant Bibles continue to exclude those books.

The Eastern Orthodox Church, which has tended to stick to the Septuagint only as the source of its Old Testament books maintains the original numbering and order.

In the West, the Roman Catholic Church determined that the books removed from the Hebrew text would be deemed deuterocanonical, which means secondary canon. They still hold some form of authority, but they tend to be organized into a separate section either at the end of the Bible or between the Old and New Testaments, and held to a lower level of authority (in contrast to the East where no distinction is made between them and other accepted books of the Old Testament).

In Anglicanism, the Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion follow the Roman practice of organizing these books into a secondary canon called either the deuterocanon or Apocrypha, saying, “And the other Books (as Hierome saith) the Church doth read for example of life and instruction of manners; but yet doth it not apply them to establish any doctrine.” The term deuterocanonical is often preferred to avoid misunderstandings with apocryphal books of the New Testament which contain false teachings. The deuterocanonical books are variously viewed as being the lowest level of Scripture, or by some as being the highest and most authoritative non-Scriptural books of the Bible.

The Canon of the New Testament is a bit more of an interesting story, though obviously parallels earlier developments in the canon of the Old Testament as it was assembled over the centuries by the Jews. The books of the New Testament were written roughly twenty to sixty years after Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection. Over the course of the next few hundred years, the exact Canon of Scripture was not fixed and in different places you might have a smaller Canon of Scripture, set by the local bishop, which rejected some books which are now canonical, while other bishops might have a more expansive Canon, which might include books such as I Clement, which was extremely popular in the early Church.

St Athanasius the Great writing in the mid fourth century has the honour of writing the first canon of Scripture which articulates the Canon as we hold it today, more than three hundred years after the time of Christ. The reality is that until the legalization of Christianity in the 4th century, many of these matters were not resolved because they simply weren’t of sufficiently pressing concern.

When they were resolved, the general test for whether or not a book would be accepted in the Canon was whether or not it was Apostolic, meaning written either by an Apostle or in their name. This rule would account for the rejection of I Clement from the Canon, despite the fact that it remains to this day well-regarded and expounds no theological error and was written in the Apostolic Age (c. 95AD), but Clement was writing in his own name and was not an Apostle, but only a Bishop or Priest.

By the end of the fourth century in the West and the fifth century in the East (there remained there controversy over the book of Revelation, not because its authority was in question but because of concerns that it might be misinterpreted by future Christians), the Canon of the New Testament was universally accepted by councils of the Church, and fixed for all time as it remains to this day.

While there may not be cannons in Anglicanism, surely the authority and teachings of Holy Scripture represent an invaluable armoury to the Christian against the snares of the devil.

On Endurance and Joy

The Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity

O LORD, we beseech thee, let thy continual pity cleanse and defend thy Church; and, because it cannot continue in safety without thy succour, preserve it evermore by thy help and goodness; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

A few weeks back, the first few verses of Romans 5 were used to frame a discussion of suffering and endurance. There is an interesting counter-point to the question of suffering, though, and that is happiness. What is happiness and does God want us to be happy? It seems a simple enough question, but in reality there are a lot of particular issues which must be considered in light of what happiness ought to mean to a Christian.

In our secular Western society, happiness is very strongly tied to material possessions. John Locke’s treatises on government had a significant influence on Western political thought. His famous line “life, liberty and property,” was adapted in the American Declaration of Independence to suggest that all men have a right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The pursuit of happiness is equated with the accumulation of material possession. While this explicit example is American, it is easy to see how consumerism and commercialism have vast influence throughout the Western world, and influence the minds of many Christians. The heresy of Prosperity Gospel is firmly rooted in the notion that God wants us all to be happy, and thus that he will reward the faithful with material wealth.

If not wealth then, what is happiness? The satisfaction of our desires? In a manner of speaking this could be viewed as something God wants for us, but only at a certain point in our Christian journey. For God desires not happiness as we define it, but rather joy. Surely joy is just an extreme of happiness, however? Again, not precisely. Used imprecisely and in common secular use today, joy is merely an extreme of happiness. A child might express joy over receiving a gift they truly desired, or some other unexpected fulfilment of a wish or desire. To a Christian, however, Scripture tells us something else about joy.

Going back to the question of suffering (as the question, “doesn’t God want me to be happy?” can often come up while enduring suffering), we see that suffering leads to endurance, which leads to character, which leads to hope which is in Christ. Suffering and endurance have previously been explored, which leaves an understanding of character and hope, and how they relate to joy, as opposed to happiness.

Character, it would seem, is a form of understanding. It is the progress we make from enduring our suffering to understanding our endurance. It is the time when we approach suffering from the perspective of “God, why have you allowed this to happen to me?” and instead, Like St Paul, are able to rejoice in our sufferings for the opportunities it provides and the faith it illuminates. The Epistle of James puts it this way, “for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing,” (Jas 1. 3, 4).

Our character builds up our faith, which leads to assurance of hope, which is in Christ. In hope, therefore, we have joy. As St Paul continues in Romans:

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation. (Romans 5. 6-11)

Here, St Paul speaks to what hope is. It is the hope we are offered in Christ’s sacrifice and the creation of an opportunity for reconciliation with God.

If our hope is in the assurance of reconciliation, then surely our joy is in reconciliation itself. For the entire salvation story aims for this as its goal of reconciliation with God, and is a process of sanctification by which we become more as God intended and more of the image and likeness of God. St Ignatius of Loyala suggests, “It is not hard to obey when we love the one whom we obey.” This love of God, as St Bernard of Clairvaux expounds on, affects how we perceive God, our relationship with him, our own sanctification and even our goals in life.

Joy is experienced in multiple ways in our life, however. It is sometimes contextual, and sometimes is not contextual. When we experience joy during difficult trials or other situations in which one would not expect the feeling of happiness. This again is proof that God’s joy is not simply something that relates to happiness but rather to God. Joy is incarnational; it is not always attached to circumstances which can be perceived on this earth, but instead reflects a breaking in or glimpse of God. It is a preview of what we are to experience in Heaven. In The Weight of Glory, CS Lewis writes:

At present, if we are reborn in Christ, the spirit in us lives directly on God; but the mind, and still more the body, receives life from Him at a thousand removes—through our ancestors, through our food, through the elements. The faint, far-off results of those energies which God’s creative rapture implanted in matter when He made the worlds are what we now call physical pleasures; and even thus filtered, they are too much for our present management. What would it be to taste at the fountain-head that stream of which even these lower reaches prove so intoxicating? Yet that, I believe, is what lies before us. The whole man is to drink joy from the fountain of joy.

This further explains at times why, even when something occurs that fulfils our personal desires, we do not feel either joy or happiness. Contextual joy is similarly created in doing what pleases God. When we do something that pleases ourselves but separates us from God, we are no closer to feeling his joy. When we do something that we know pleases him, however, it can bring us closer to that joy.

So then, does God want us to be happy? Well, not really. What God truly and earnestly desires is for reconciliation with us, for the joy that it will bring both us and him. Happiness is fleeting, and fickle, produced of our own desires. Joy on the other hand is of God, incarnations of his love for us and his desire that we be reconciled to him.

If happiness can in some manner be related to John Locke’s philosophy of life, liberty and property, then perhaps for the Christian, joy may be found in a life of service to God, freedom in Christ, and the pursuit of salvation.

Wisdom of Saints: St Cyprian of Carthage

Feast of Cyprian, Doctor, Bishop of Carthage, Martyr, 258

ALMIGHTY God, by whose grace and power thy Martyr Cyprian was enabled to witness to the truth and to be faithful unto death: Grant that we, who now remember him before thee, may likewise so bear witness unto thee in this world, that we may receive with him the crown of glory that fadeth not away; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with thee and the Holy Spirit liveth and reigneth, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Like many of the early Christian saints, there are few details of St Cyprian’s childhood and early life prior to his conversion to Christianity, despite the fact that many of his written works remain. St Cyprian of Carthage was born around 200 AD to a wealthy pagan family in Carthage. He received a classical education at the school of Carthage which allowed him to become a lawyer and rhetor, a profession at which he excelled and would greatly aid him as a priest later in life.

Around 245 AD he was converted to Christianity under the influence of a local priest, and was baptised. Prior to his baptism, he donated half of his family’s wealth to the poor In his epistle To Donatus, he describes his baptism writing:

While I was still lying in darkness and gloomy night, wavering hither and thither, tossed about on the foam of this boastful age, and uncertain of my wandering steps, knowing nothing of my real life, and remote from truth and light, I used to regard it as a difficult matter, and especially as difficult in respect of my character at that time, that a man should be capable of being born again—a truth which the divine mercy had announced for my salvation,—and that a man quickened to a new life in the laver of saving water should be able to put off what he had previously been; and, although retaining all his bodily structure, should be himself changed in heart and soul.

His writings show how he quickly began to apply his keen mind towards the learning of Christian doctrine and theology, and was soon after ordained as a priest. He was greatly influenced by the writings of Tertullian. When Bishop Donatus of Carthage died in 248, St Cyprian was selected to replace him as bishop.

St Cyprian lived prior to the legalization of Christianity, and indeed became Bishop just prior to the start of the Decian persecution in January of 250, in which Christians were effectively forced to renounce Christ or be killed. It was during this same persecution that St Cyprian’s contemporary Origen was tortured, and died a few years after the persecution ended due to injuries suffered in his incarceration. St Cyprian himself avoided capture during the persecution by fleeing the city of Carthage, a decision which evoked some controversy. The Decian persecution did not last long, as persecutions ordered by Roman emperors ended upon their death, and Emperor Decius died in June of 251.

In the aftermath of the persecution there was great controversy. Emperor Decius had required everyone to sacrifice to him as a god or face torture. In doing so, the person would receive what was called a libellus to prove their sacrifice. Some Christians, out of fear or after torture, would sacrifice to the Emperor and received theirs. Others bribed officials in order to receive a libellus without making sacrifice. St Cyprian determined that such Christians who had lapsed during the persecution could be re-admitted to the Church, but only after performing penance, and in so doing recognizing their error, and with the permission of the bishop.

The controversy that arose over opposition to his rules led him to pen one of his most celebrated works, his treatise On the Unity of the Church. He addressed in this case the specific issue of priests and others rebelling against him, but provides sound advice for the necessity of unity of all Christians by first referring to unity of the Church in Holy Scripture and then writes:

Does he who does not hold this unity of the Church think that he holds the faith? Does he who strives against and resists the Church trust that he is in the Church, when moreover the blessed Apostle Paul teaches the same thing, and sets forth the sacrament of unity, saying, “There is one body and one spirit, one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God?”
The Church also is one, which is spread abroad far and wide into a multitude by an increase of fruitfulness. As there are many rays of the sun, but one light; and many branches of a tree, but one strength based in its tenacious root; and since from one spring flow many streams, although the multiplicity seems diffused in the liberality of an overflowing abundance, yet the unity is still preserved in the source.  Separate a ray of the sun from its body of light, its unity does not allow a division of light; break a branch from a tree,—when broken, it will not be able to bud; cut off the stream from its fountain, and that which is cut off dries up. Thus also the Church, shone over with the light of the Lord, sheds forth her rays over the whole world, yet it is one light which is everywhere diffused, nor is the unity of the body separated. Her fruitful abundance spreads her branches over the whole world. She broadly expands her rivers, liberally flowing, yet her head is one, her source one; and she is one mother, plentiful in the results of fruitfulness: from her womb we are born, by her milk we are nourished, by her spirit we are animated.

This emphasis on the unity of the Church, throughout Scripture and through the traditions of the Church speaks to his status as an exegete and echoes a message through the centuries which remains ever relevant today in the age of countless schisms.

St Cyprian lived through the various plagues that hit Carthage, before Emperor Valerian came to the throne. Understanding that a new persecution was about to begin, he wrote his Exhortation to Martyrdom which was meant to encourage Christians to stand firm in their faith. Again he emphasizes Holy Scripture in his writing, and writes from multiple perspectives and arguments on the virtues and benefits of holding firm in our faith. He concludes in the thirteenth chapter discussing suffering and the rewards for it, recalling St Paul’s statements on suffering before concluding:

Who, then, does not with all his powers labour to attain to such a glory that he may become the friend of God, that he may at once rejoice with Christ, that after earthly tortures and punishments he may receive divine rewards? If to soldiers of this world it is glorious to return in triumph to their country when the foe is vanquished, how much more excellent and greater is the glory, when the devil is overcome, to return in triumph to paradise, and to bring back victorious trophies to that place whence Adam was ejected as a sinner, after casting down him who formerly had cast him down; to offer to God the most acceptable gift—an uncorrupted faith, and an unyielding virtue of mind, an illustrious praise of devotion; to accompany Him when He shall come to receive vengeance from His enemies, to stand at His side when He shall sit to judge, to become co-heir of Christ, to be made equal to the angels; with the patriarchs, with the apostles, with the prophets, to rejoice in the possession of the heavenly kingdom!

In 257, Emperor Valerian began a new persecution ordering all Christian clergy to sacrifice to nobility or face exile. St Cyprian refused and was exiled from Carthage. In 258 the persecution was extended to all Christian nobility as well as clergy. Clergy faced execution while the nobility faced loss of titles, property and freedom. St Cyprian voluntarily returned to Carthage to confess his faith and face martyrdom. He was sentenced to death and beheaded in 258.

NB. The Feast of Cyprian is commemorated on 13 September, but as that fell on Sunday, the feast is transferred to a ferial day.

On Discipline

The Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity

KEEP, we beseech thee, O Lord, thy Church with thy perpetual mercy; and, because the frailty of man without thee cannot but fall, keep us ever by thy help from all things hurtful, and lead us to all things profitable to our salvation; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Discipleship is a key principle, often referred to in our Christian journey. When we say discipleship, however, what precisely do we mean? What does it mean to be a disciple of Christ? The word disciple has the same root as the word discipline, which has a meaning of accepting a teaching, practising a teaching or being taught. In the Christian then, a disciple of Christ is one who submits themselves to Christ’s teachings in order to practice them.

This idea of submission is difficult for many people. It goes against the grain of modern liberalism, which tells us that freedom is the ultimate virtue. The freedom to make up our own mind and do what we want. Discipleship then becomes difficult because we do not want to submit to Christ, but rather to pick and choose the examples of him we will follow. This occurs either by outright ignoring anything which might be difficult or which might challenge us to change our ways, or by trying to justify our actions through creative eisegesis (the reading in of our own interpretation to the Bible).

GK Chesterton once wrote that, “Christianity has not been tried and found wanting, it has been found difficult and left untried.” This is the reality that confronts many Christians who are unwilling to make the changes necessary in their lives to be faithful disciples of Christ.

After freedom, Western society promotes comfort and ease as values. Convenience takes the place of quality and effort. Applied to Christianity, our convenience takes the place of Truth when we refuse to submit. Christianity does not, however, promise ease. It promises Truth. To substitute anything else for it is to remove the essence of Christianity.

Being a disciple of Christ requires discipline. It requires the intentional turning away from that which separates us from Christ’s teachings. It requires an honest desire to live in God’s will and not our own. It requires a willingness to do things we might find uncomfortable. Christ calls us to share the gospel with others; in a society in which it is impolite to speak of religion and politics, it can be challenging to break those norms to speak to others of our faith. Social values Jesus calls us to are radically different than norms of society.

What’s more, if we are truly submit to Christ, it means understanding what Christ asks of us. Sometimes when someone misapplies scripture in order to support their own viewpoint, it is not intentional malice or even cognitive dissonance, but merely a reflection of their poor understanding of Holy Scripture.

Discipline itself is the only solution for anyone who seeks to become a true disciple. Discipline of prayer, of Scripture reading, of contemplation and self-examination and other edifying practices that seek to turn us from our old selves and towards Christ. The use of spiritual disciplines has a history that dates to the Old Testament. The imposition of ashes was a practice used to display repentance towards God, and at times would be engaged in corporately as entire communities sought to turn themselves towards God after a period of rebellion and turning from him. To modern Christians, spiritual disciplines remain integral the practice of discipleship.

The reading of Holy Scripture is one of the most important tools at our command to understand God’s will. In reading it, we come to know God better. It is a recording of God’s interaction with humanity, and of Christ’s life and earthly teachings. By familiarizing ourselves with God’s word, it becomes possible to avoid falling into error through ignorance. While no amount of reading of Scripture can fully prevent us from falling into interpretive error, it does make it far less likely to misinterpret or apply a particular verse when we would know that such an interpretation would place that verse in opposition to other parts of Scripture.

Scripture reading is God’s written testament to us. It is one of his primary tools for communicating himself to us. It is also the most impersonal. It is through prayer that we are able to come to God and learn of him most personally and fully. Where the Bible speaks in broad terms of God’s relationship with Israel, or Christ’s teachings to the Jews and the early disciples, through prayer we can come to know God’s particular will for us.

Prayer comes in many forms, but so far as disciplines that aid us in becoming disciples of Christ, practices such as lectio divina, which uses Scripture as a tool to uncover God’s particular will for us today, and the daily examen of St Ignatius of Loyala, which provides a model of reflection upon our day to help us identify areas where we need God’s support and where we ought to thank God for his blessings.

These prayer disciplines, if used regularly, help us to come into a rhythm of conversation with God in which we explore how we are currently living our lives and how we ought to be living our lives. For the daily examen, knowledge of Scripture is important as it can be difficult to understand where we ought to pray if we know nothing of God’s nature. If we do not know how to identify sin, we do not know how to pray to God for strength to overcome our sinful urges and desires. We do not know what blessings we ought to pray for, what opportunities we ought to pursue with God’s help or the things God calls us to do if we aren’t familiar with Scripture.

It takes discipline to engage in these practices regularly. It also takes practice. Abbot John Chapman of Downside once reflected that we ought to, “pray as best [we] can and not as [we] can’t.” As we take this discipline what we cannot pray becomes less and less, and the discipline of prayer becomes the simple practice of prayer. The discipline of conversation becomes the privilege of conversation. St Ignatius of Loyala wrote that, “it is not hard to obey when we love the one whom we obey.” It is through prayer and the building of our relationship with God that we come to love him.

Discipleship is not easy. It requires intentional discipline. It requires devotion. It requires submission. It requires a willingness to engage in radical change that moves us beyond secular norms of politics and society. In the act of giving up ourselves, however, we become who we are meant to be in Christ.

While we may be called to endure much in our lives, and while taking on such disciplines and being willing to give up who we were can be daunting, it is the assurance of joy that comes from abiding in God’s will that proves Christ’s words: “for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light,” (St Mt 11. 30).

On the News

The Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity

ALMIGHTY and everlasting God, give unto us the increase of faith, hope, and charity; and, that we may obtain that which thou dost promise, make us to love that which thou dost command; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

This past week, news agents around the world, print and television, flooded us with images of the tragic death of Alan Kurdi, a Syrian boy fleeing violence in Syria whose body washed up on the shores of Turkey. I will admit my initial reaction was jaded: “another tragic death that will be ignored.” I was wrong. Perhaps in Canada it has taken on an even greater political dimension after initial (incorrect) reports by NDP MP Fin Donnelly that he had personally delivered the refugee application package to Citizenship and Immigration Minister Chris Alexander, and that it had been rejected. It was later clarified that it was another member of the Kurdi family who had had their package returned due to it being incomplete and that no application had been made on behalf of the Kurdi family members who tragically died.

Despite this clarification, and perhaps due to the ongoing Federal election, the issue has become the focus of media scrutiny and public attention throughout the country. Indeed it has caused a tonal shift in Europe which is far closer to the source of the problem. Recent weeks have seen headlines pontificating on the “Migrant” issue. Since the death of Alan Kurdi, the tone has shifted to recognition that these are not migrants seeking jobs, but rather refugees fleeing persecution. The tone is reminiscent of Madeline Albright’s fine line distinction between genocide and acts of genocide in an effort to deny legal responsibilities to intervene to stop the Rwandan Genocide in the mid-90s.

It seems now everyone is concerned about the issue of refugees. Why aren’t we doing enough? Indeed, the morning the death was reported, the Anglican Journal made the following comment on Facebook, which was later edited to include a link to the Archbishop of Canterbury’s statement:

The tragic image of three-year-old Alan Kurdi whose lifeless body washed ashore in Turkey has put a human face on the global refugee crisis. Alan is only one of an estimated 2,500 to have died crossing the Mediterranean this year. In 2014, it was estimated that 3,500 perished at sea. Is Canada doing enough for refugees? Is the church doing enough?

These questions subtly identify the problem among Canadian Anglicans and Western Christians more broadly. We are reacting to secular media when finally brought to a point where, despite reporting on the thousands of deaths caused by the Syrian Civil War or ISIL throughout the Middle East, many Christians seem only now to be waking up to the scope of the issue, and even then the focus rests largely on the matter of refugee resettlement with scant attention paid to why these refugees are fleeing the situation. Furthermore, in asking first whether or not the Government is doing enough and second whether or not the church is doing enough, it subtly attempts to shift responsibility away from the individual and onto organizations.

We have recognized that there is an issue. The problem is not that we have previously disregarded thousands upon thousands of murdered innocents, war crimes, persecution and other barbaric acts, the problem is that the Government of Canada hasn’t done enough. The problem isn’t that we are ignoring Christ’s instructions to be charitable towards others, it’s that the Anglican Church of Canada hasn’t been vocal enough in advocating action.

The Church’s activities have been laudable. Most diocese in Canada have their own diocesan refugee committee which seeks to sponsor resettlement applicants to Canada. The Primate’s World Relief and Development Fund sponsored 50 refugees last year to mark its 50th anniversary. For those who haven’t heard about it so far, Anglicans throughout Canada were no doubt greeted with announcements in their bulletins this morning announcing how to get in touch with and support the local diocesan committee.

The real question ought to be, why did it take the particular death of this boy and the tragic photographic record of it to spur us to do anything? If the Anglican Church of Canada was negligent in its duties, it wasn’t that the PWRDF only sponsored 50 refugees, it was that the state of our Christianity is such that as individual Christians we are not being taught to care about these issues. We are perfectly comfortable offloading them on secular institutions, or in some case religious charities, and washing our hands of the whole situation.

In the Bible, does it say God created the heavens and the earth and political boundaries and the rest of these rules only apply inside your particular political borders?

Instead of taking up the challenge of secular political issues, Christians more generally need to be instructed in why we ought to care. Not to take away from the evil being perpetrated in Syria and elsewhere, or the sorrow that is rightly felt for the death of Alan Kurdi, but it should not take media attention of that sort to make Christians care. What’s more, Christians care about Syria, but there has been little attention paid to refugees fleeing persecution and violence elsewhere.

The focus remains on dealing with what politicians can do at home, with no attention paid to what is happening abroad, why refugees are fleeing their native homes and why they cannot return. The United Nations uses the term ‘durable solution’ to refer to the various resettlement options available to refugees who have left their homelands. It is not referred to as a permanent solution because the resettlement of refugees fails to address what caused them to become refugees in the first place, be it persecution, violence or some other source.

As Christians, these are all issues we are called to speak out and oppose. Admittedly this is not an issue which can be resolved individually. There is little that Christians in Canada can personally do to put an end to the Syrian Civil War. Bashar al-Assad is not going to end his murderous persecution of the Syrian people just because he receives some mail. Yet, if not for this singular picture nothing would change. Governments respond to public interest.

We need to be engaged not simply with political issues—following the political news cycle of the day—but to be true disciples of Christ we must be engaged and bring these matters to public attention ourselves. In order to do that, the Church must play a role in reminding individual Christians of what their duties are. Not to follow the political news cycle of the day and respond to hot button issues, but to seek Christ in all situations.

For as long as current interest in this story lasts, Canadians will be generous. They will donate money and sponsor refugees from Syria. But the problem extends far beyond resettlement of Syrians. Who will be the advocates who will speak for the voiceless if not Christians? Archbishop Justin Welby described a moral duty to act. I would argue there is a need to emphasize a moral duty to act beyond the span of public interest. Christ’s command to love one another wasn’t contingent on secular scrutiny; so neither should Christian charity.