By John Hamer, Canada East Mission Centre Historian

We have entered the season of Advent, whose name comes from the Latin word adventus, meaning “coming” or “arrival” — denoting the arrival of God among us, the incarnation of Christ that we celebrate on Christmas Day. This is the period of the calendar in the northern hemisphere when the days are shortest and the nights are longest. This was a time of special hardship and anxiety for pre-modern people, who lacked the artificial lighting and central heating that most of us now take for granted. Early Medieval Christians responded by making extraordinary spiritual preparations. By the 6th century CE in the Latin West, it was common to set the month leading to Christmas apart as a time of penitence and fasting.

The tradition of marking the four Sundays of Advent by lighting the candles of an Advent wreath is much more recent. Johann Hinrich Wichern was a Lutheran pastor and theologian living in Hamburg, Germany, in the 1830s. He founded a social service institution called the Rauhes Haus to shelter and educate neglected children, the mentally handicapped, and to care for the elderly. During Advent, the children would ask daily if Christmas had arrived — “Is it Christmas yet?” “Is it Christmas yet?” “Is it Christmas yet?” — so Johann repurposed an old cartwheel by decorating it with candles: 24 small red candles and 4 large white candles. Each weekday or Saturday, one of the red candles was lit, and each Sunday of Advent, a white candle was lit, allowing the children to count down visually. In this way, the Advent wreath and candles had the same initial purpose as Advent calendars — which also date from 19th-century Germany and count down the days until Christmas. Advent calendars today usually take the form of a box containing 25 doors, which are opened each day to reveal a tiny present or candy.

The practice of the Advent wreath spread, and over time, the number, form, and symbolism of the candles have evolved. The wreath itself symbolizes that God’s love is infinite, represented by the evergreen leaves set in a circle. Most wreaths today consist of four candles, which are understood to represent hope, peace, joy, and love. Often, three of the four are violet (a traditional liturgical colour of Advent), along with a single pink candle. In this tradition, the pink candle represents “joy,” marking a break in the penitential cycle on Advent’s third Sunday. (In other liturgical traditions, all four principal candles are either blue, gold, or red.) Sometimes a fifth candle, usually white, is placed in the centre of the wreath. This candle, which is lit last, symbolizes Christ made manifest among us.

Hope, peace, love, and joy are concepts central to the Christian understanding of God’s goals for creation. In our own denomination, however, they have taken on additional meaning through our mission statement: “We proclaim Jesus Christ and promote communities of joy, hope, love, and peace.” What are some of the traditions that you, your family, or your congregation observe during this sacred season, where we prepare ourselves to experience the sacred story of the incarnation of God’s Word at Christmas?

By Apostle Shannon McAdam,
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I have brought home many learnings from my fall tour of the British Isles and Western Europe. One of these has particularly stayed with me: how people there have provided impactful, meaningful ministry in small, humble spaces. As I visited congregations in the UK, I noticed that people take great pride in buildings that are much more humble than many of the facilities our congregations have in North America.

And no one seems to let the size of their space limit what is possible to offer as ministry for their community.

In Sutton, I met a congregation that opens every Wednesday morning for coffee with the community. People wander in from the neighbourhood on their morning walks or intentionally head to “their church” for a hot drink, a cookie, and—more importantly—friendly conversation. At long tables in the small church hall, people sit and catch up on their lives. The congregation also has thrift tables around the edge of the room where people can buy household goods, books, and clothes for just a few pence. Most think of it as “their church,” even if they aren’t members and have never been by on a Sunday.

A little later on Wednesday mornings in Clay Cross, members of the congregation and the larger community gather in their sanctuary to divide food into hampers that people in need can purchase for a very nominal amount. After receiving an overwhelming number of tins of baked beans as donations for hampers, a congregation member came up with the idea of also serving a simple hot lunch of beans on toast on Wednesdays for anyone who might be hungry for a hot meal and/or some conversation. “Bean Still” was born, and has become a weekly tradition.

At Stockport, one room serves as sanctuary, dining room, children’s play area, and meeting place. Their kitchen is smaller than my condo kitchen, and yet they served us a generous lunch when we visited, with homemade soups, fresh bread, cheese aplenty, and desserts (complete with custard!).

These places inspired me to think about how often we assume our spaces—not just our churches but also our homes—are too humble or small to invite anyone to. But in reality, people will remember far more about how they felt when they visited, and the quality of the relationships they formed, than about the décor, the size of the space, or how fancy the meal was.

Could you “risk something new” in your space? Is there something simple you could offer that might bring warmth and hope to others’ lives? Because, as Stassi has challenged us to think: “What if we get it right?” We won’t know unless we try!

By John Hamer, Canada East Historian

Stained-glass windows have deep roots in Christian history. They were popularized and made important by Abbot Suger of St. Denis in the 12th-century Kingdom of France. Suger’s abbey housed the royal crypts where most of the kings and queens of France have been buried. He wanted to renovate and rebuild his abbey church on a grand scale in a new style, using the latest engineering technology. He ended up building what we now think of as the first “Gothic cathedral.”

The most important component of the new church were its windows — much larger and letting in far more light than earlier Roman and Romanesque structures. These were decorated with stained-glass images of the saints and vignettes of Bible stories. But these were not meant simply to be pretty or to tell stories to the illiterate. The windows had a theological purpose. Drawing upon the Gospel of John’s description of the divine Christ — “In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind” — Suger allegorized light as the source of divine revelation. In his conception of stained glass, the natural light of the sun was lux, which was then mediated through the gem-light prism of the windows, becoming lumen or metaphysical light. Finally, that lumen entered the eyes of individuals as “illumination” — a spiritual light that elevated the mind and fed the soul.

Suger developed his ideas from The Celestial Hierarchy, an important theological text he believed had been written by Dionysius the Areopagite. Dionysius was an Athenian leader in the Book of Acts who converted because of Paul’s preaching (Acts 17:34). Tradition in Suger’s day held that Dionysius became a Christian missionary in Gaul, ultimately serving as the first bishop of Paris, winning renown as “the apostle of France.” After Dionysius’ martyrdom, he was buried in Suger’s abbey, which was named in his honour — “Denis” being French for Dionysius. (Modern historians have concluded that Denis of Paris, the author of The Celestial Hierarchy, and the character from the Book of Acts were actually three different individuals.)

Stained glass has continued to provide illumination within our own Community of Christ tradition in churches across Canada. Magnificent stained-glass windows from the historic Maitland Street church in London were preserved and are now housed in the Woodfield church. Stained-glass windows from the historic Soho Street church in Toronto are preserved in the heritage rooms of Toronto Centre Place, the Reaching Out Centre in Mississauga, as well as the church history museum in the Temple in Independence.

Other beautiful examples of stained glass include renditions of the church seal in buildings as far afield as Edmonton, Calgary, and Proton.

Does your church facility include stained glass? Do you know its history? Please share photos and the story with us: [email protected]

By John Hamer, President of Sionito

When faced with the scale of seemingly intractable problems in our country and our world, we sometimes can’t help but ask the question, what can a little church like ours do in the face of human suffering?  Wherever we live in Canada, we cannot help but be aware of the housing crisis: from basic affordability to lack of sufficient housing and ultimately the problem of homelessness.  

But for the past half century church members in Toronto and London have worked to be a part of the solution in their communities, founding our social housing charitable affiliates, Sionito and Zerin.  The Sionito Group of Charities broke ground earlier this year on a new development located on Finch Avenue in Toronto that will provide affordable housing to 158 people who might otherwise be in danger of homelessness.

Last month, the Federal government recognized the project as a model and singled out Sionito as a trusted partner.  At a media event held at the construction site, two members of the Federal Parliament announced the launch of the government’s new “Build Canada Homes” program.  Adam van Koeverden, MP for Burlington North/Milton West, and Ali Ehsassi, MP for Willowdale, also share the news that the government would devote an additional $1.5 billion to support projects like the one Sionito is currently building.  The event illustrated the trust and goodwill church members like Bryce Taylor, CEO of Sionito, have built over the years with all levels of government partners, as we have fought together for housing justice.  

The teams at Sionito and Zerin are to be congratulated for continuing to build on the good work started decades ago, addressing one of the greatest challenges our country faces.  When we ask ourselves, “what can a little church like ours do in the face of human suffering?”  Let’s always answer, “we can do our part!”

This Sunday, members and friends of Community of Christ will gather to partake in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, also known as Communion. When we think of this sacred meal, we immediately recall the scene of the Last Supper. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus offers bread and wine to the disciples, saying, "This is my body," and, "This is my blood" (Mark 14:22–24). In Luke, he adds, "Do this in remembrance of me" (Luke 22:19).

Christians continue to share in this meal in remembrance of Jesus—but why? Is it simply a symbolic ritual that keeps the church connected as we reenact what Christians have done for two millennia? Or does something miraculous happen when the minister speaks those familiar words over the emblems?

What really happens during the Lord's Supper—and, consequently, the meaning of this sacrament—became a source of bitter controversy during the Protestant Reformation. The Catholic Church maintained that the bread and wine, while retaining their material appearance, become in substance the body and blood of Christ. This is transubstantiation: the outward form remains bread and wine, but their inner reality is changed. In the Eucharist, these simple elements participate in divine reality, just as Jesus—though fully human—shared the same divine substance with God.

Protestant reformers rejected this doctrine. Ulrich Zwingli went so far as to say that the Lord’s Supper is purely symbolic—a remembrance of the Last Supper. Martin Luther, on the other hand, taught that the body and blood of Christ are truly present in the bread and wine, not because the elements are transformed, but because God is omnipresent. John Calvin proposed a more moderate view: Christ is not bodily present in the elements, but through the Holy Spirit, believers are lifted up to participate in Christ’s divine life.

In Community of Christ, we bless the emblems, saying that we will “eat and drink in remembrance of the body and blood” of Christ, so that we may keep the commandments Jesus gave us and that the Spirit may be with us. Our Communion prayers express a theology of spiritual presence and transformation through remembrance—not transformation of the elements themselves. It is therefore Calvinian in character, emphasizing communion with Christ through the Spirit—not a merely symbolic act, nor a bodily presence. Communion is not about the metaphysics of the emblems; it’s about the real presence of Christ, recognized by the Spirit when the community gathers, remembers, and is nourished together.

Interestingly, our church’s understanding of the Lord’s Supper is reflected not in the scene of the Last Supper, but in a miraculous story from the final chapter of the Gospel of John. After the Resurrection, the disciples are back at the Sea of Galilee. They go fishing at night, “but that night they caught nothing.” How often do we embark on our ministry, struggling to see through the darkness of our own challenges? We sail at night without direction, casting our nets in the wrong places. We try hard, yet we haul in empty nets—our sanctuaries remain empty.

At sunrise, a stranger stands on the shore and calls out, asking if they have any food. They have nothing to offer. Then the stranger tells them to try once more, and a miracle happens. The catch is so abundant that they can hardly believe the net is not torn. The stranger invites them to eat and they share a meal. They recognize they are in the presence of the Lord.

This is an epiphany—a moment of sudden revelation—and it happens as they gather at the table. The Spirit fills their hearts with remembrance: the feeding of the five thousand had taken place on these same shores. The meal reveals that Christ is present in mission—when the impossible becomes possible, when abundance arises from scarcity, when souls are nourished through forgiveness and reconciliation, when the worth of all is affirmed.

The shared meal reveals a Christ who is here and now, not an elusive figure from a distant past. Christ is the Light of the World, piercing the darkness of uncertainty and guiding us toward new waters where we can cast our nets once more. Through the Spirit, we find the courage to keep inviting others to Christ even after failure, and the strength to gather the blessings of a heavy catch, even when we feel overwhelmed by the demands of discipleship.

As we partake in the Lord’s Supper this Sunday, let us open ourselves to the presence of the Spirit, so that the body and blood are not merely remembered, but that Christ may be revealed among us as we share this sacred meal. Where is the Christ who asks for food—the one we so often fail to recognize? Where is the Spirit inviting us to cast the net? And how are we preparing to haul the heavy catch that will follow?

By Leandro Palacios, Master of Arts in Religion, Community of Christ Seminary at Graceland University

​By John Hamer, Canada East Mission Centre Historian
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A tour bus loaded with 30 church heritage enthusiasts spent Thanksgiving weekend in Toronto as part of the 2025 Drawn from the Nations of the World Community of Christ Historic Sites Foundation (CCHSF) tour. Canada was the first country where the church was established after its 1830 organization in the United States, and a congregation was first organized in Toronto in 1836. Apostle Heber C. Kimball predicted by revelation that fellow Apostle Parley P. Pratt would “go to Upper Canada, even to the city of Toronto, the capital,” where he would “find a people prepared for the gospel.”

During a missionary trip to the city, Pratt and five companions met John and Leonora Taylor, who were part of a small group of religious seekers dissenting from the Methodist church. After a good deal of preaching and discussions, the Taylors and many members of their group were baptized into our church, forming the nucleus of the original Toronto Congregation. The Taylors lived on Duchess Street (now renamed Richmond Street), just two blocks west of the present-day Centre Place church.

The CCHSF tour group also visited the sites of St. Andrew’s Market, where the Toronto Congregation rented a meeting space in the 1890s, and the sites of the former Camden Street Church (1900–1906) and the former Soho Street Church (1906–1926). At the turn of the 20th century, Toronto was home to R.C. Evans, perhaps the greatest orator in the history of our church. Beginning in 1905, the congregation leveraged Evans’ talents by renting out the largest theatres in the city, filling them to capacity — including Massey Hall, one of the sites visited by the tour.

The tour also visited Nathan Phillips Square, Sankofa (formerly Dundas) Square, the historic Distillery District, Polson Pier, and went on a walking tour of historic sites in Toronto’s Old Town neighbourhood (where Centre Place is located).

The visit to Centre Place included viewing historic books, photographs, documents, and artifacts preserved in the Doris Hillyard Library, including the Dale & Judy Luffman first edition Inspired Version of the Bible (1867) and the Clair Shepherdson Saints’ Harp hymnal (1871). On Sunday morning, the tour took part in a special hybrid Beyond the Walls service, getting to see firsthand everything that goes into producing the livestream.

In addition to stops at Toronto and Niagara Falls, the tour visited heritage sites in Independence, Missouri; Omaha, Nebraska; Lamoni, Iowa; Nauvoo and Plano, Illinois; and Kirtland, Ohio. CCHSF is a church affiliate charged with supporting historic sites including Heritage Plaza in Independence, Liberty Hall in Lamoni, and the Stone Church in Plano. In addition to raising funds and supporting historic tours, the foundation has created a wealth of resources including the Children in Church History lesson plan series. You can learn more and access these resources on their website.

References
[1] Terryl L. Givens and Matthew J. Grow, Parley P. Pratt: The Apostle Paul of Mormonism (Oxford: 2011), 83.