A couple years ago I read a profile of a Palestinian farmer published by Reuters. The farmer had just lost his harvest after members of the Israel Defense Force refused him access to his cropland. I have found myself thinking about that farmer a lot over the past couple weeks… were he or his children part of the group that committed horrific atrocities across Israel that have sparked yet another volatile conflict on this fragile blue orb?
In a recent sermon at Knox Presbyterian, John Calvin and the TULIP acronym of his doctrines was discussed. That day I learned the concept of Total Depravity (the “T”) – the idea that humans are inherently corrupt and unable to do good works. Without turning this into a poor hash of Christian theology, this idea that man is evil to the core is not universal and there is no shortage of material within Christian academia that delves into this topic to try and determine just how evil or good we are.
Regardless of one’s theological beliefs, it is hard not to look at the world and see depravity around us. Inhumane brutality has become regular enough on television and social media that it feels commonplace. The reason I cannot stop thinking about that Palestinian farmer is that I have been searching my soul about how I would react if my ability to harvest our crop was taken away year after year, compromising my ability to care for my family.
I do not believe that humans are evil to the core. I believe that each day we wake up with opportunities to lead with empathy and love, and ultimately we desire being a part of something that builds positivity for the future. Yet seizing opportunities requires energy and the more exhausted we feel when our feet hit the floor in the morning, the less capacity we have to be the person we want to be. The more of us that feel exhausted, the less likely we have a friend with the energy to give us a boost on the day we need it, and all of a sudden society can feel trapped in a negative feedback loop, sapping our societal resilience.
We are days away from Nov. 11 and I have never felt more scared that we are losing the world this child of the 90s believed in. When I sang O Canada as a kid at the cenotaph, I believed that the sacrifice of the Second World War veterans, many who still stood tall in their uniforms in those days, were made by the last people to fight in a global conflict that threatened humanity. Some of that youthful bliss was lost through the exploration of history and an acknowledgement that human conflict is inevitable, but it was only recently that I have come to fear that the world I will leave is demonstrably worse than the one I came into. As a parent, I do not think there is a worse fear than that of the feeling that your children will not get to enjoy the opportunities for safety, security, and upward mobility that you did.
At times like this, when all around us there are things that can make it feel like we are caught in a hopeless downward spiral, I am reminded of the blessings of living in this community. On a recent Saturday morning, feeling trapped in sadness, I sat by myself at Between The Lines doom-scrolling through my phone as my kids played soccer. I forced myself to put the phone down and took stock of what was happening around me. My daughter was chatting with a mom who was watching her own daughter in the batting cages, babbling on about pig farming and Elma Public School to the delight of the listener (or so it appeared). Parents were socializing as their kids played soccer together on the field… families who have lived here for generations and families who have lived here for mere months.
The next morning at church I watched a new mom pass her months-old baby to an unrelated older gentleman who sat beside her in the pew so she could go sing in the choir. A happy baby was held by a happy-to-help person’s lap while another person who loves to sing got to sing. No matter how dark this world can seem, there are communities around us to hold us up, to fight back against the feeling that this world is falling apart.
I do not subscribe to Mr. Calvin’s idea of Total Depravity, but I have lived enough life to see that depravity exists in all of us. It takes energy to seize the opportunities for goodness we are given each day, and exhausted humans eventually break down into a more primal version of themselves. That pressure cooker looks different for everyone… unending financial stress, food insecurity, addiction… and each of us have different capacity for resilience but we all have a breaking point.
I pray that the farmer in Palestine found a peaceful pathway, while also acknowledging that his experience may have led to a darker ending in a millennia-old conflict that has erupted once again. I pray that Jewish people across the world know that there are those of us who believe steadfastly in the importance of a Jewish state in Israel given the systemic oppression that has followed them to every corner of the globe after being expelled from Israel by the Romans. I pray that leaders from all sides in this conflict seek peace when it is easier to seek retribution. Prayer is about all I feel I can do at times of conflict like this from a place like Listowel, Ont.
On Saturday morning I will head to the cenotaph no different than my childhood self. I will still sing O Canada proudly and I will listen to Pastor Ralph pray for peace. I may have lost that childhood innocence that allowed me to believe that there could be such a thing as everlasting global peace, but I will continue to be thankful that I was born in this place. A place that when there are so many things that seem wrong in the world is still right enough to bring children of many cultures together in joyful pursuit of a little round ball on a Saturday morning. A place that has people who will hold an open a door for a stranger. A place where people who can give willingly so we all enjoy well-equipped schools, libraries and health-care services. A place where there are people ready to pick me up so that the next day I have the energy to return the favour, collectively working together towards a better community for those that come next.
To those who have served and are still serving, thank you for serving this great nation.
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Stewart Skinner is a local business owner, former political candidate, and has worked at Queen’s Park as a Policy Advisor to the Minister of Agriculture, Food, and Rural Affairs. He can be reached at stewart@stonaleenfarms.ca or on Twitter: @modernfarmer.
