2022 Winter Issue 3
“A Tim Tam Slam? That’s even better than the Nephilim.”
The Art Walk
May Ye
I was blessed with the opportunity to go on the Regent art walk three weeks after my arrival in Vancouver from the UK. I’m originally from mainland China, but I spent 16 years living in the UK and traveling across Europe and Asia. I have struggled with my identity from time to time, but coming to Regent feels like déjà vu and a strange homecoming.
As a multicultural citizen, I’ve always struggled with where my home is. I was born and raised in a small city in mainland China, then moved to the UK in my adult age, then travelled back and forth to China and East and Southeast Asia for work purposes and family visits. I am sometimes torn between two cultures. I have strong inclination towards some aspects of one culture, but I am also tortured deeply inside by some aspects of another culture. I can’t put my feet on two lands at the same time because I can only be in one place at one time. When I see my western friends holding the biased views of East Asian culture, I am eager to clarify from my perspective, but I sometimes feel that I lack the right words to explain. When I see my Eastern friends holding prejudice towards western society because of the influence of media, my heart also aches because my beloved Western friends are friendly, hospitable, and genuinely kind. What could bring reconciliation between the East and the West? If I had the answers, I probably wouldn’t need to come to Regent College.
When I landed in Vancouver and arrived at Regent and UBC, I was overwhelmed by the resources all around. I enjoy the freedom I have here to discuss all sorts of topics with friends and classmates, expressing my likes and dislikes, seeking for answers to daunting questions, trying to discern the ways God calls me to be in, and more. Deep down, I am also crying out for my family and friends in the East with restricted freedom and access to spiritual food, mentoring, and resources. Freedom means responsibility and accountability. We have access to freedom and a responsibility not to abuse it or treat it as after-dinner conversation at our leisure. It is God’s call for us to remind ourselves where our freedom comes from and what we should do to carry forward it. It’s time for this generation to rise up, carry the torch, and forge ahead into the future with the freedom that was gained with the price paid from our ancestors and predecessors.
To me, gospel is the only way to bring heaven to the earth. Christians are called to be the ambassadors of heaven. My heart was saddened when I saw the lukewarm Christians in
western society and the gradual loss of zeal for pursuing Christian faith among my western friends. I couldn’t wondering if they truly know their identity and te foundation of their civilisation. As an Easterner, I learnt western civilisation is based on the Bible, and Bible is the foundation of western society, law, culture, education, art, music, and more. But the rise of individualism and postmodernism didn’t solve societal problems, instead it created new problems. Whereas in the East, there is a burning desire to seek the faith, but where can they find authentic and biblical resources, teachers, mentors, and spiritual directors to help them walk rightly in God’s will?
We tend to look at things from distance. This brought me back to a memory in the UK. I had an interesting conversation with my hairdresser, on the high street in Uxbridge. I took two books with me that day in hope of sharing gospel with her—Julian of Norwich, and Brother Lawrence’s The Presence of God. To my surprise, she took out her books from the drawer: Wing Chun Martial Arts and Bruce Lee’s Tao of Kung Fu. She shared that her dream is to go to a temple in China and meditate and learn Chinese Martial Arts. Whereas I was pondering of the idea of going to a retreat in a monastery in France or Italy or maybe Scotland. After prayer and God’s door opening, I am at Regent now. I don’t think she has had the opportunity to spend time in a temple in China yet. Human beings are good at forgetting to appreciate where we are Here and Now, and at being busy heading to our next task. We often forget to pause and enjoy the presence of God and enter the intimacy of relationship with him. Let’s wait upon our God for his call into our life, our study, our doing and our being. We are called to be attentive, listening to our God and his call, being the messenger speaking words of reconciliation, healing, and hope to wherever God calls us to be.
If our freedom means that we are called to responsibilities and accountabilities, we must make good use of our freedom when we have it. We must not take it for granted. To fill the gap in between divided knowledge, learning is the way. We must open ourselves the unknown and allow the Holy Spirit to mould and shape us. Not only must we travel far to learn the things we do not know, we also need to revisit things that we believe we know. We need to allow our minds, thoughts, and behaviours to be challenged, and we need to take time to reflect and learn to embrace and face discomfort.
By rooting our belief in Jesus Christ, we deepen our faith in our learning process. If we have confidence in our faith in Jesus Christ, our faith will help us weather the storm and deepen our understanding of who God is and who we are. I believe we will better love ourselves and the people around us.
‘’Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. ‘’ ---Hebrew 10: 19-23
Jesus himself is the way, the truth, and the life. No one could go to the father apart from him. Incarnation is the way for anyone who shares the burden of seeking and living out the truth and bringing light to the world of division, tension, lies, and polarization. For our generation, we need a revival of faith more than ever before. It is the calling from God for us all, students of theology who are trained, equipped, and entrusted with the truth, that we go into our communities, our workplaces, and our mission fields to be the light and salt.
Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”
And I said, “Here am I. Send me!”—Isaiah 6:8
God’s call is here. Are you ready?
Today marks my one month anniversary being at Regent College in Vancouver. I notice I have stopped wrestling with my identity, the issue of whether my home is in China or in the UK or in the US or in Canada. I start to embrace my identity of being a heavenly citizen. Where God’s love is, that is where home is. Where the presence of God is, that is where home is. Where he is, where home is (as per Ross Hastings’ reflection). I start enjoying making friends with students from all over the world here at Regent and listening to their stories of life, struggling, faith, family, inspiration, calling, and the future.
Our beautiful art walk finished in a warm and cosy café and ended with a prayer. When we walked out of the café, the sun came out and the evening clouds surrounded the church across the street. My heart is melted at that moment and in that place.
This article was written in response to the following prompt from Et Cetera: “In what ways has your own cultural background and perspective interacted with your study of theology at Regent College, and in what ways has this interaction been positive or negative?”
If you are interested in responding to this prompt in a future issue, please contact Et Cetera.
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The Healing Line
John Davies
The youth limped to the front of the healing prayer line, eyes glazed, his head swaying from side to side, unable to hear, failing to speak.
“Deaf, dumb, and dizzy spirit, I rebuke you!” shouted the preacher. The youth put his finger to his ear, touching something. “He’s pointing, feeling the power!” shouted the preacher.
The youth looked stunned, his eyes now focused, his head stationary. “Yes, a miracle!” shouted the preacher.
“Sorry,” the youth interrupted, “I couldn’t hear with my AirPods in. I’ve got a sprained ankle.”
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Sustained Through Depression
Daniel Melvill Jones
I—Anticipation
Annie and I moved to Vancouver last June. Throughout the summer I would spend many evenings on Tower Beach, watching the layers of sea, islands, and mountains shift with the colours of the sunset. Often, I wondered what God would have in store for us at Regent when we would soon gather for the first time in years. Biking home, I would always pass the mostly shuttered campus. I could not wait to be underneath the green roof.
II-Depression
I would not have guessed that the subsequent semester would be one of the hardest seasons of my life. Midway through the semester, my life crumpled around me. The depression I had been dealing with throughout the pandemic became crippling. I would find myself slipping away from the daylight I longed to dwell in and down into a pit of dull gloom. Recognizing myself sliding, I would try to cling to the walls of that pit, desperate to find some way to stay happy. But instead of gripping solid turf, my hands only found crumbling earth and I would keep falling. This would happen so often that the pit became lined with well-worn grooves of failed attempts. The predictability of it made it all the more hopeless.
Yet something more than depression stalked me. In 2019 I had stumbled across a phrase which brought clarity to what had been taking place in my inner life for most of my life: suicidal ideation. Although I had never attempted suicide, I would lose count of the number of times over the course of a single day that the impulse to end my life would bolt across my mind. Last semester, that lifelong struggle reached its fever pitch.
Something small would set it off—I would lose my favorite pencil, or a baking project wouldn’t turn out, or I would be unable to make sense of a tax form. Or I would just lie awake at night, my anxieties over past and future failures crowding and overwhelming me. Soon I would be sucked into a whirlwind of despair and self-condemnation. Annie sound asleep, I would pace the dark apartment. The only thing keeping me from taking drastic action was a promise I had made to her and a very real sense of the heartache it would cause her. Instead, I would physically and verbally take the pain out on myself. Too wound up to think clearly, I would often end up curled on the carpet, sobbing with despair. Pain and sorrow consumed my life and haunted my dreams.
III. Sustaining
Thanks be to God; I am doing much better now. Antidepressants have kept me from sliding into that pit. A spiritually gifted therapist (paid for by our student health benefits) has helped me uncover the small traumas that had burdened my sense of self. There is more work to be done, but I feel like myself again. I feel alive and am glad to be so.
There were three ways that I felt God’s sustaining presence during that dark season.
The first sign of God’s presence was the love of my wife, Annie. When I hated myself, she showed me that I was loved. When I felt worthless, she insisted on the goodness she saw in me. When God’s love felt far and distant, her presence made it tangible. When all felt hopeless, she believed I would one day be better. She showed me the sweet face of Jesus
I could not hide my depression, my shame, or my failings from Annie. And yet knowing them, she still loved me. In a little book many of us are reading for Soul of Ministry, Henri Nouwen writes that “knowing the heart of Jesus and loving him are the same thing. The knowledge of Jesus’ heart is a knowledge of the heart. And when we live in the world with that knowledge, we cannot do other than bring healing, reconciliation, new life, and hope wherever we go” (In the Name of Jesus, 44). Annie knew Jesus’ heart and she could not help but bring that love into my own heart.
The second sign of God’s presence was this community. Genevieve genuinely asking me “are you okay?” week after week and expecting an honest answer. Zoe recognizing that I was in pain and encouraging me (often with Rain or Shine ice-cream). Tim noticing and asking. Jacob becoming a confidante who encouraged me to take this pain and sorrow seriously. Evan speaking publicly in chapel about his own struggles with depression.
And then there were those who will remain unnamed because they bravely revealed to me their own struggles with depression and helped remove any stigma I had around it. A professor quietly told me of his own use of medication. A friend at church opened up about her depression and the good (and the hard) days which followed medication. Another friend sent me a text revealing her own nights of despair and how God’s nourishment brought her through it
When I moved here, it was hard to reveal the real me, the struggling me that was hiding behind my cheerful outward persona. One by one, this community said, “It’s okay, Daniel. You can trust us. You can be honest. We will love you through it.”
The third sign of God’s presence was the Eucharist. Trudging to church every week, I often felt too discouraged to show my face. Inwardly aching, I sat through the liturgy, the sermon, and the music. Then came the Eucharist. I can’t fully explain yet what was exactly happening in theology (I’m told I’ll get answers once I take THEO 602), but I do know that a weight was lifted from me each time I tasted the wafer placed into my open palm and sipped the wine held up to my lips. The Eucharist sustained me. It was a tangible taste of how God really saw me. It gave me a glimpse of joy that lifted me, just for a bit, and gave me grace to carry on.
In the darkest days of last semester, I told myself, “Daniel, someday you will get through this. And when you do, you will stand up in chapel and share your testimony of how God has brought you through it.” I didn’t know yet how he would sustain me. But I know that he would. And now I have told you. Thanks be to God.
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Sky, Beautiful
Abigail Stocker
sky, beautiful
past the world of known words
for glory spilling lustrous through quiet.
maybe there are no words because
it’s february and all of nature is
on the edge of the potential of spring
maybe because of the moody blues
of sky and water
(no.) because of the horizon’s belt of gold
below cloud and over water, the gold
a fine line threading together the waters of the bay.
maybe because it’s suddenly
too much beauty for one world to hold,
here, in this ordinary sunset
at the edge of this daily world.
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on The Martyrdom of Polycarp
Dryden Demchuk
Speak! The Prophet:
“YOU SHALL WORSHIP THE LORD”
Sayeth devil on the mountain:
“...if You fall down and worship me.”
Urge the friends:
“What harm in saying, Lord Caesar...?”
(What harm in sacrifice?)
Sayeth devil on the Mountain:
“All these things I will give You...”
through disciple:
“This shall never happen to You.”
Blessed Father on the Mountain:
“Here I am!”
(What harm in sacrifice?)
Blessed Son (sacred Lamb!) on the Mountain:
“Into thy hands...”
the third day on the Mountain:
Death! Pass over!
Speak! Anointed, on the Mountain:
Behind me! (Et tu, Brute?)
Come, the Kingdom! (Then, like lightning, fall Caesar!)
(sayeth martyr to the throne:
“thy kingdom come; thy will be done”
Sayeth martyr to the Throne:
“Thy Kingdom Come; Thy Will be Done
…how long, o LORD, how long…?”)
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Dad Joke of the Week*
was asked if I might say something at my friend’s funeral.
I approached the microphone and said “plethora”.
My friend’s mother approached me with tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot.”
*Et Cetera gaurantees that its Dad Jokes are authentic samples of paternal humour provided on a regular basis by the Editor’s own father.
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Cartoon by Daniel Du
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Winter 2022 Et Cetera Team:
Senior Editor: Dryden Demchuk
Co-Editor: Katrina Steckle
Co-Editor: John Davies
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
Articles, fiction, artwork, and poetry are all welcome.
Submissions must be in Word format. Maximum length for prose is 1000 words. Longer stories or articles may be serialized over multiple issues. All submissions are subject to proofreading edits and may be returned for more substantial revision. Visual art must be submitted in digital format. No promises can be made about the quality of printing, but black and white line art will reproduce best. Please submit all prose, poetry, and artwork to etcetera@regent-college.edu. Classifieds for the Greensheet must be submitted to greensheet@regent-college.edu. No guarantees that submissions will be printed. Et Cetera is published on a fortnightly basis. Deadline for the upcoming issue is 11:59 PM on the Friday preceding publication on Tuesday. Submissions later than this may be considered for future issues. Current students, faculty, staff, and spouses are preferred, but exceptions may be made. Views expressed in the Et Cetera do not necessarily represent the views of Regent College, the RCSA or the Et Cetera staff. The Et Cetera can be viewed online at etcetera.regent-college.edu.
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Published by the Regent College Student Association