“Justpeace-Diaconia” and the Challenges of Reconciliation in the Canadian Context

Abstract

This article argues for the necessity of an approach to diaconal work that can best be defined as active and sustainable peacebuilding and reconciliation toward social transformation. It explores ways in which a diaconia specifically informed by justice and peace perspectives, called “justpeace-diaconia” by the author, should serve as an entry point for engagement into the complex dynamics towards reconciliation in the Canadian context, deepened by its colonial legacy that still pervades the social fabric. These challenges and diversities—even complicities—of perspective are viewed through the lens of peace-diaconia to examine the implications for diaconal work in Canada and explore whether meaningful journeys for reconciling and building relationships are possible.

1. Introduction

The term reconciliation has burst into the Canadian discourse as a core challenge and aspiration in the wake of the Canadian Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) findings and recommendations (2015). The exact meaning of the term, however, is fraught with different and often incompatible perspectives. Thus, Rosemary Nagy’s examination of reconciliation challenges in Canada finds that federal actors “aspire for reconciliation to be a curative solution to long-standing social divisions,” resulting in innumerable historical injustices in the country, while Indigenous Peoples “tend to aspire for reconciliation to involve a process of broadening discourses” that will heighten awareness of the trauma experienced by Indigenous Peoples in the space that is now called Canada (Shelley 2014, p. 18). This article argues for the necessity of an approach to diaconal work that can best be defined as active and sustainable peacebuilding and reconciliation toward social transformation. It will explore ways in which a diaconia specifically informed by justice and peace perspectives, which Dennis Solon and I are calling “peace-diaconia” (Kroeker and Solon forthcoming), as an entry point of engagement into the complex dynamics towards reconciliation in the Canadian context, deepened by its colonial legacy that still pervades the social fabric. These challenges and diversities—even complicities—of perspective will be viewed through the lens of peace-diaconia to examine the implications for diaconal work in Canada and explore whether meaningful journeys for reconciling and building relationships are possible.

The essay will begin with a brief account of the history shaping current relationships between non-Indigenous/settler and Indigenous Peoples in Canada. Gearoid Miller asserts that “knowledge of the [given] context is necessary for the design, planning, and eventual implementation of [any type of] peace [efforts]” (Miller 2018, pp. 597–98). We must know whence we come to effectively work with the violence and oppression present in our societies. The historical overview will be followed by an exploration of biblical and theological perspectives on diaconia and peace-diaconia and a discussion regarding their applicability to address the challenges of a colonial context and framework in the work towards reconciliation. The discussion will conclude with research into various ways in which reconciliation can be re-thought in order for peace-diaconia to be taken seriously. The ultimate goal is to expand the discourse on peace-diaconia and its future in contested spaces. Peacebuilding and reconciliation remain critical to the church’s mission and its mandate of diaconia in the context of persistent human violence and conflict, ranging from interpersonal and local settings to international and global contexts.

To begin this project, I want to acknowledge my positionality as a scholar and practitioner situated1 in the Canadian context. In addition, I have many decades of work in conflicted contexts that have generated intersectional ideas towards diaconia as a key opportunity for informing the creation of spaces for reconciliation work.

2. Historical Background to Current Canadian Challenges

As a result of the powerful forces of European colonialism over the past 500 years, Indigenous Peoples/nations in the area now called Canada have suffered a massive loss of life, land, livelihood, and language, not to mention the loss of self-determination, sovereignty, recognition, natural resources, culture, and religion. Insofar as this outcome was the result of overt and deliberate policies of European colonialism (which continued after the achievement of “independence” by the new settler-colonial state), this process can be (and has been) called “cultural genocide”, if not in some circumstances simply “genocide.” The story of Canada correlates with the legacy of three enormous (and inter-related) demographic transformations since around 1500 CE: the catastrophic decline of Indigenous populations in the Americas; the forced migration of between 10 to 12 million enslaved Africans (mostly to the Americas); and the mass (and mostly “voluntary”) relocation of European populations to the Americas.

Though many Canadians of European descent like to think that Canada was simply “settled”, the reality is that Canada today is the result of conquest and domination operating at various levels. Analytically, the forms of colonialism operating in the history of the making of Canada include trade and exploitation colonialism and, ultimately, settler colonialism. In the initial stages of English and British colonialism, the key modus operandi was through private enterprise promoted, supported, and controlled by the Crown. These private corporations were allowed to engage even in military operations to secure the terms of their charters (King Charles II 1670).2 In the first broad phase of colonialism, Crown policy was mostly framed around a paternalistic separation and protection of Indigenous nations in “reserved areas” (so they could continue to live as they had been), but still under the overarching sovereignty of the Crown, which claimed “absolute title” to all the land (King George III 1763). A process of enacting “land-surrender” treaties emerged for commercial or settlement endeavours while permitting continued Indigenous self-government (under the Crown’s overall sovereignty and protection). But in a second broad phase, beginning in the 1800s, when local (“Canadian”) government took on the responsibilities and prerogatives of the British Crown, there was an increasing trend toward assimilationist and “civilizing” (“enfranchisement”) policies, but alongside both a new segregationist policy (the “reserve system”) and a massive influx of a settler population. The overtly segregationist and assimilationist policy was ultimately enshrined in the ever-evolving Indian Act of 1876.

The justifying ideologies (somewhat different from the various “motivations”) of colonialism in the context of Canada (whether on the part of the Crown, direct colonial governing or commercial actors, or indirect settler actors) were multiple. They included the “doctrine of discovery”, which gave a pre-emptive opportunity in relation to rival colonial powers for the “right of conquest” and the “right of possession”, all of which also operated in association with notions of “terra nullius” and civilizing and Christianizing mandates, and all in a framework of presumed European racial superiority (Miller et al. 2010; Indigenous Corporate Training Inc. 2023).3

One of the most destructive colonial policies was the “residential school system”, enabled by the Indian Acts of 1876 (Indigenous Foundations n.d.), funded and promoted by the federal government but operated by Christian churches. This system that lasted for over a hundred years (between 1879 and 1997) has resulted in massive intergenerational trauma through forcibly removing children from their families and communities, disallowing the use of Indigenous languages, and exposing children to various forms of physical and sexual abuse. Estimates of school-related deaths range from a few thousand to up to 30,000 children.

The 1996 final report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (RCAP, 1991–96; Government of Canada 1996), which was prompted by the 1990 armed standoff over a land claim action (called the Oka Crisis or Kanehsatà:ke Resistance), recommended a way forward for Canada under the framework of “reconciliation”, including a “public inquiry” and a formal apology by the government in connection with the residential school system (Government of Canada 2008). Following the final report of the RCAP, a class action by Indigenous residential school survivor claimants gained momentum and resulted in the 2006 Indian Residential Schools Settlement Agreement (IRSSA), the largest class action settlement in Canadian history. The parties included over 86,000 Indigenous claimants and the federal government and church bodies. Meanwhile, the IRSSA mandated the establishment of a truth and reconciliation commission to deal specifically (though not exclusively) with the legacy of the residential school system. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada was the result (2008–2015), which was modelled on similar commissions in other jurisdictions, and gave its final report in 2015, including 94 “Calls to Action” (Government of Canada 2015a).4

3. Framing the Concept of Diaconia

What, then, might be the meaning of diaconia in such a colonial legacy? Diaconia is “both a theological concept and a name for Christian social practice” (Leer-Helgesen 2018, p. 149). Recent discussions, though, of ecumenical and transformative diaconia have highlighted the need for a fulsome discussion iterating that diaconia is integral to the church’s identity and calling; it is not to be understood as some optional activity nor as some community effort or social ministry seemingly disconnected with the core reality of the church. Moreover, it is not to be limited in scope to one-directional “serving” in some narrow sense but suggestive of transformative action, dynamic engagement, and solidarity in the struggles of our world. Diaconia is both necessarily responsive to deep needs or injustice around and inside the church and entails critical reflection on our actions in a dynamic action-reflection interface (Latin American Episcopal Conference 1986).5 It is ecumenical both in the sense of being globally engaged (e.g., north-south) and in the sense of working across Christian denominational differences, constantly aware of power and privilege differentials in our common mission. In addition, diaconal engagement does not mean Christians working in isolation but often alongside civil society actors, knowing that this partnered work can help in the renewal of the church itself (Hanover Report 1996; Böttcher 2002; Nordstokke 2009; Nordstokke 2011b; Dietrich et al. 2014; Phiri 2018).

Martin Robra’s account of the history of the use of the term diaconia for the World Council of Churches reveals the challenges for diaconia to be viewed as a space for renewal. Diaconia was traditionally viewed as the Christian service where the “misery of the poor masses was seen as a missionary task” that culminated in the specialized ministries of hospitals, orphanages, schools, and services focused on the needs of the marginalized in society. Consequently, many missionary societies “exported such institutions and the corresponding theology” (Robra 1994, p. 277). Arnhild Leer-Helgesen admits that “[u]ntil the 1980s and 1990s diakonia was mainly understood as humble and silent service, or charity” (Leer-Helgesen 2018, p. 150). What resulted within contexts of the struggle for freedom was that “diaconal service and charity were often rejected as insufficient or as an element of the existing structures of domination and thus an obstacle to nation-building, structural change and social action” (Robra 1994, p. 277). The social challenges and theological interpretations in the “practice field” have begun to shift diaconia from simple service to ideas of complex peace and justice praxis (Leer-Helgesen 2018, p. 150). It is for these reasons that this paper moves towards a discussion of peace-diaconia as a framework to consider and inform peace and justice praxis as integral to the efforts of building peace and moving towards reconciliation while considering local collaborative agency as essential.

4. Peace-Diaconia

In contexts of unpeace, the church’s immediate ministry includes peacebuilding, a Christian praxis of peace-diaconia that does not focus simply on peace as an end result but also as a vital component of the process towards justice and structural change and the experience of a fulfilled reign of God. Peacebuilding, including its economic and political implications, is, thus, a diaconic ethic elaborated in the New Testament writings, particularly in the Gospels and in Paul’s letters.

Diaconia, as that which is focused on peacebuilding and reconciliation, emerges from the central biblical and theological perspectives that peace and reconciliation are core dimensions of the gospel itself, namely, of God’s own mission of restoration and transformation in this world. At the center of the Bible’s vision of a renewed world, to which the church is called to work in alignment with God’s mission, are the oft-present images of the coming together of peace and justice. To expand, “linguistically Hebrew and Greek do not distinguish” between concepts of peace and justice but hold them together as one (Yoder 1987; Zerbe 2011, p. 127). Thus, the concept of diaconia “is not just a possible consequence of the proclamation of the Gospel, but an integral part of it” and a “core dimension” of what it means to be the church (Dietrich et al. 2014, p. 4). Diaconal action efforts as peace-diaconia, thus, focus on those areas where “people experience mechanisms of exclusion for social, economic or even religious reasons” (Dietrich et al. 2014, p. 4). Hand in hand with this perspective is the biblical imagery of shalom as one that is inclusive of salvation-liberation, justice, wholeness, and peace (Yoder 1987).

Not only is it important to see peace as central to God’s transformative work in this world, but also to assert that the contexts where Christianity has historically been animated have had challenging impacts in relation to Western imperialism and colonialism. Hannah Swithinbank asserts that “we are all stuck in histories from which we cannot extricate ourselves as long as we remain reluctant to look at these consciously and critically” (Swithinbank 2016, p. 6). Swithinbank expands on this idea by quoting Gustavo Gutiérrez’s work on liberation theology that emphasizes the importance of becoming “[e]ver more conscious of being an active subject of history [and] ever more articulate in the face of social injustice and all repressive forces” (Gutiérrez 1973, pp. 24–26). To activate a Christian approach to peacebuilding, peace-diaconia requires facing our own multiple complicities in the glaring injustices and conflicts present in the world today and moving towards an active solidarity that takes its cue from the margins.

Peace-diaconia work takes place in complicated environments where clear and simple solutions involve a struggle to find or even, at times, comprehend for the reason of the historical dynamics woven together in the context. Consequently, those engaging in peace-diaconia work need to grow a commitment to engage with that complexity and then to move forward in these situations—carrying with them love for others and the deep desire to restore relationships as the very orientation to their work. Vinoth Ramachandra asserts that “Christian theology is more than a set of doctrinal beliefs or systematic arguments. It is a way of seeing, of so dwelling in a particular language and doing new things with that language so that its revelatory and transformative power is manifest in the world” (Ramachandra 2009, p. 13). Ramachandra’s assertion is that our diaconal theology must lead us to an embodied knowledge shaping the myriad ways we see and act in the world.

Taking the model of Jesus himself, one can consider the relevance of his enactment of the kingdom of God in connection with intertwined peace and justice work. Glen H. Stassen and David P. Gushee contend that to make the claim of following Jesus is to work fervently to seek peace and to uphold justice (Stassen and Gushee 2003). Gordon Zerbe asserts that the Gospels schematically portray the life work of Jesus as involving, on the one hand, a Galilean component and, on the other hand, a Jerusalem component. The Galilean component focuses on acts of serving, ministering, reconciling, empowering, inviting and being in solidarity, while the Jerusalem component includes protesting, resisting, challenging, criticizing, truth-telling, and consequently, suffering. Together these components represent the range of holistic dimensions that represent being the church in the world (Zerbe 2006). This is the required work of the church, the embedded quotidian focus of being and doing peace-diaconia, exhibiting a “lived knowledge that shapes the way that we see and act in the world” (Swithinbank 2016, p. 24).

5. Peace-Diaconia Work in the Canadian Context

What does peace-diaconia work look like when animated in a colonial legacy context? Diaconia, as a calling of the church towards action when contexts of injustice are revealed, can easily get stuck within frameworks of welfare administration (Stiles-Ocran 2021). Cuban pastor, Carlos E. Ham, states that “diaconal projects and efforts [often] conceive those persons to whom the service is directed, as objects, as passive or mere recipients of the aid” (Ham 2021, p. 633). Ham asserts that this dynamic can be shifted. The introduction of the concept of empowerment “helps to understand that those who are being served are actually subjects or agents, rather than objects, who are called to participate actively in their individual and communitarian development and transformation” (Ham 2021, p. 633). Inspired by the writings of Paulo Freire, Clodovis Boff, and Martin Luther King, Jr., Ham asserts that diaconal work must focus on empowerment “to activate the potential creativity of the persons” and to realize that power needs to be named as part of the equation of analysis and “to be transformed, revolutionised internally” (Ham 2021, p. 633). Peace-diaconia must affirm that “those who are being served are actually subjects or agents” (Ham 2021, p. 633).

Pushing further at the peace-diaconia dimensions of empowerment, power, privilege and structural change, the result might be to refer to this as justpeace-diaconia. Peacebuilding scholar John Paul Lederach first coined “justpeace” as “the challenge of the 21st century” in 1999 (Lederach 1999). Lederach and R. Scott Appleby assert that peacebuilding theory is “best expressed by the idea of a justpeace, a dynamic state of affairs in which the reduction and management of violence and the achievement of social and economic justice are undertaken as mutual, reinforcing dimensions of constructive change” (Lederach and Appleby 2010, p. 23). Justpeace signifies that the work must recognize both the “redress of legitimate grievances and the establishment of new relations characterized by equality and fairness according to the dictates of human dignity and the common good” (Lederach and Appleby 2010, p. 23). As well, within this framework justpeace-diaconia would work toward a vision where justice becomes “routinized in the society” (Lederach and Appleby 2010, p. 24). In the companion field of liberation theology, Latin theologian Edgardo Colón-Emeric calls on the church “to recommit itself to listening to the cries of the oppressed and responding with liberation that was announced and attained in Jesus Christ” (Colón-Emeric 2018, p. 99). This is the focus that justpeace-diaconia requires.

A picture of a liberating and empowering diaconia, seeking out root causes, mindful of power and privilege, and working collaboratively towards structural transformation describes justpeace-diaconia. Justpeace-diaconia is the answer to the questions that Kjell Nordstokke asks:

What kind of diaconal action is needed in such a context of extreme poverty and injustice? Can diakonia be renewed in order to become liberating, both in the sense that it liberates churches to bold action in defence of the poor and marginalized, also in a way that makes a difference in society, liberating people from bonds of exclusion and suffering, promoting human dignity and fundamental rights?

(Nordstokke 2011a, p. 56)

It is this pursuit of diaconia that can assist in imagining peace-diaconia in the Canadian context.

The Canadian context, as described previously, holds the pain, violence and trauma of Indigenous Peoples over the span of two centuries. In May 2021, the remains of 215 Indigenous children were discovered on the grounds of a former residential school in British Colombia. It was the first of many more such discoveries. Canada is in a time of reckoning. The National Post reports on events ensuing from the discoveries:

Statues were toppled and smashed. Canada Day events were cancelled. The Maple Leaf [flag] was lowered on Parliament Hill and on all federal buildings across the country. United Nations human rights special rapporteurs called on Canada to conduct a full investigation. The uproars were widely characterized as a “long overdue reckoning” with the legacy of Canada’s Indian residential schools.

(Glavin 2022)

Wilton Littlechild, a residential school survivor and a commissioner of the TRC, said that a “shockingly low number of Canadians had much knowledge at all about residential schools at the time.” Littlechild reflects, “but let’s use that and say, ‘Now that we know the truth, what can we do about it?’” (Heidenreich 2021). The root causes and the hidden stories must be explored in order to pursue the next steps. “Every child matters” has now become a rallying cry at solidarity gatherings across Canada when new discoveries are made. Justpeace-diaconia must be relentless work in the face of ever-increasing stories of horror and trauma. Jack Kruger, a residential school survivor living in (Canadian) Syilx territory, said: “We always said [the bodies] were there. Maybe this time they will listen” (Bonneau 2021).

The residential school experience is just one painful issue among many that raise concern over a colonial legacy that still shapes the social fabric in Canada. Due to the historical and intergenerational trauma resulting from colonial policies, as well as individual and systemic racism, many Indigenous people today are facing numerous and profound social and economic challenges. Indigenous people aged 15 and older were nearly 10 times more likely than non-Indigenous people to have been under the legal responsibility of the government during their childhood (11% vs. 1.3%). More than one-quarter (26%) of Indigenous women experienced sexual violence by an adult during their childhood, compared with 9.2% of non-Indigenous women. For the period from 2015 to 2020, the average homicide rate involving Indigenous victims (8.64 per 100,000 Indigenous people) was six times higher than the homicide rate involving non-Indigenous victims (1.39 per 100,000 non-Indigenous people). In 2019, Indigenous people were more likely than non-Indigenous people to report having experienced sexual or physical violence by an adult at least once before the age of 15. The homicide rate among Indigenous people in Saskatchewan is 13 times higher than the rate among non-Indigenous people (Perreault 2022).

David Stiles-Ocran, writing about the Latin American context, asserts that diaconia needs to be freed from Northern perspectives and to lodge itself in a liberative, or justpeace, discourse. He asserts that a “liberative diaconia aims at the total freedom of the oppressed, the poor, and the needy from societal injustices and oppression. In partnership with victims, actors of liberative diaconia should create safe and trusted inclusive space(s) in the larger society”(Stiles-Ocran 2021, p. 112). Paulette Regan, a Canadian settler and former research director for the TRC, writes but “[u]nder what circumstances would those who are the beneficiaries of colonialism stop denying and choose to act differently?” (Regan 2011, p. 66) Regan continues by writing that now that Canadians have seen evidence of atrocities and heard stories of trauma (through the TRC reports, at minimum), we must “accept responsibility for making change in the world” (Regan 2011, p. 229). And now, this requires that Canadians “commit ourselves to the ongoing struggle of reconciliation as liberatory resistance” that will also direct us to our own decolonization (Regan 2011, p. 229). This is the work of justpeace-diaconia in the Canadian context.

6. Re-Thinking Reconciliation

Whether “reconciliation” is the right term to frame the challenge going forward in Canada is still debated. Among the limits of the term are that (1) the term often assumes a return to something once good and harmonious in relationships; (2) the term does not necessarily involve reparation and establishing justice; (3) in this case, the goals of restoration and justice are simply impossible since there is far too much negative damage and a legacy that cannot be recovered; and (4) the process of “reconciliation” is a project of, and still under the control of the Canadian state, representing the privileged and powerful majority. Accordingly, the TRC, in its final report, offered the following 10-point framework for the ongoing work of “reconciliation” in Canada:

• The United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples is the framework for reconciliation at all levels and across all sectors of Canadian society.
• First Nations, Inuit, and Métis peoples, as the original peoples of this country and as self-determining peoples, have Treaty, constitutional, and human rights that must be recognized and respected.
• Reconciliation is a process of healing relationships that requires public truth sharing, apology, and commemoration that acknowledge and redress past harms.
• Reconciliation requires constructive action on addressing the ongoing legacies of colonialism that have had destructive impacts on Aboriginal peoples’ education, cultures and languages, health, child welfare, administration of justice, and economic opportunities and prosperity.
• Reconciliation must create a more equitable and inclusive society by closing the gaps in social, health, and economic outcomes that exist between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Canadians.
• All Canadians, as Treaty peoples, share responsibility for establishing and maintaining mutually respectful relationships.
• The perspectives and understandings of Aboriginal Elders and Traditional Knowledge Keepers of the ethics, concepts, and practices of reconciliation are vital to long-term reconciliation.
• Supporting Aboriginal peoples’ cultural revitalization and integrating Indigenous knowledge systems, oral histories, laws, protocols, and connections to the land into the reconciliation process are essential.
• Reconciliation requires political will, joint leadership, trust building, accountability, and transparency, as well as a substantial investment of resources.
• Reconciliation requires sustained public education and dialogue, including youth engagement, about the history and legacy of residential schools, Treaties, and Aboriginal rights, as well as the historical and contemporary contributions of Aboriginal peoples to Canadian society. (Government of Canada 2015b, 2015c, pp. 3–4).

The challenges pertaining to what is called “reconciliation” (both as a process and a goal), then, are multi-layered, involving political and constitutional matters, issues of formal justice and jurisprudence, reparations and land claims, trauma healing and communal resilience, social movement and social process dynamics, and relations with ecclesial structures and people.

Just as there are challenges to defining diaconia for colonial legacy contexts, spaces rife with complexities, so it is with reconciliation (Ham 2012, p. 386). For Ham, a diaconia striving to give integrity to reconciliation “must acknowledge the destructive and dehumanizing power of structures [that marginalize people], not only in order to point to the tragic effects of their reality, but also to the demands, legitimate rights and the power of marginalized people to transform the world” (Ham 2012, p. 386). The re-thinking of a reconciliation vision must ensue. Responding to the complex iteration of reconciliation from the TRC holds promise for the emergence of peace-diaconia work to be an eventuality. To do this, the narratives perpetuated must be examined. Regan asserts that the conflicts faced in Canada have long and “deep historical roots” that emerge from “the stories that we as settlers tell and retell ourselves about our ‘non-violent’ past, invoking the myth of benevolent peacemaking” (Regan 2011, p. 68). These solidly held assumptions must be dismantled in order to “envision a new future” (Regan 2011, p. 68).

To attend to a meaningful discernment of reconciliation, a contextualized truth must be central. Although the harms of residential schools have been recognized, (former) Prime Minister Stephen Harper claimed that Canada has “no history of colonialism” (Vancouver Sun 2009), and John Duncan, a (former) Minister of Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development, opined that residential schools were not an act of genocide but rather a case of “education policy gone wrong” (Della 2011). Denial of the impacts of historic wrongs must be faced directly. Rosemary Nagy’s examination of reconciliation suggests that it must be oriented to “replacing fear with peaceful coexistence, building relations of trust, and developing empathy, common interests and identities” (Nagy 2012, p. 351).

What does this mean for a re-thinking of reconciliation? Glen Coulthard emphasizes that the work is not simply overcoming a past legacy but struggling with “the abusive colonial structure itself” (Coulthard 2014, p. 109). Mohawk philosopher, writer and teacher Taiaiake Alfred frames the quest for reconciliation between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Peoples as needing to grapple with meaningful restitution. He argues that:

Without massive restitution made to Indigenous peoples, collectively and as individuals, including land, transfers of federal and provincial funds, and other forms of compensations for past harms and continuing injustices committed against the land and Indigenous peoples, reconciliation will permanently absolve colonial injustice and is itself a further injustice.

(Alfred 2009, p. 165)

It is crucial that settlers “demonstrate respect for what they share with Indigenous peoples” (Alfred 2009, p. 165). Any efforts must ensure that they do not represent “a continuation and extension of the colonial order”, hidden within progressive rhetoric (Kuokkanen 2020, p. 309).

In effect, what is being called for is a return to the root sense of the Greek word katallagē in the New Testament, translated by reconcilare in the Latin Vulgate. While the Latin reconciliare indeed has the narrower connotation of “coming together again”, the Greek katallagē in its root sense simply means an “exchange”, and in many contexts, used sociologically to signify an “exchange” from hostility to friendship (Liddell and Scott 1940), indicating fundamentally a kind of “transformation” from one thing to another, not a return to what once was in relationships. In the context of Canada, the “exchange” now demanded is nothing less than an entire restructuring of relationships and power.

Indigenous writer Thomas King makes the plea: “Don’t say in the years to come that you would have lived your life differently if only you had heard this story. You’ve heard it now” (King 2023, p. 29). Reconciliation is a long slow journey of reckoning. It does not promise that the road is straightforward. In conversation with Indigenous elder Adrian Jacobs, discussing whether reconciliation was the right word to denote the relationship-building work required between Indigenous and non-Indigenous, he said, “Reconciliation means to become friends again. But were we ever friends? Friendship was offered but not reciprocated. Perhaps we are on a journey of conciliation. Learning to become friends.”6 This is the task friendship work requires: being responsive, taking direction, doing one’s own work towards understanding the power and privilege owned and looking towards engaging structural change.

7. Dismantling the Doctrine of Discovery

One of the most significant church-related challenges and opportunities in North America is participation in the broader movement to “dismantle the doctrine of discovery”, addressing ongoing effects of structural, theological, and ideological factors in the colonial legacy. Thus, the Coalition to Dismantle the Doctrine of Discovery, founded and led by Indigenous theologian and activist Sarah Augustine, “calls on the Christian Church to address the extinction, enslavement, and extraction done in the name of Christ on Indigenous lands” (Coalition n.d.). Augustine begins her book by saying, “Indigenous Peoples have been systematically disenfranchised and dispossessed as a matter of church policy for 500 years” (Augustine 2021, p. 18). Moreover, the Doctrine of Discovery “is actually a paradigm of domination that is threaded through all our societal institutions” (Augustine 2021, p. 29). What emerges is a significant moment for churches to partner with Indigenous aspirations to engage the powers of our society.

Crucial to this coalition are the goals of “solidarity and repair”, while calling for “relatives, not help”, and reimagining some classic elements of Christian theology, including biblical paradigms, that continue to justify colonial activities and outcomes (Augustine 2021, pp. 94–210). Augustine’s tireless work was crucial for pushing the World Council of Churches (WCC) Executive Committee to adopt, in 2012, the “Statement on the Doctrine of Discovery and Its Enduring Impact on Indigenous Peoples” (WCC Executive Committee 2012), which was eventually adopted unanimously by the delegates of the 10th Assembly of WCC at Busan, South Korea, in 2013. Meanwhile, in a significant move, Pope Francis has just (in March 2023) formally repudiated the doctrine of discovery, recognizing the significant role of fifteenth-century papal bulls in establishing a theological and ecclesial justification for European colonialism (Chappell 2023).

But Augustine continues to be distressed by the lack of program commitment to this cause by the WCC and other Christian bodies (Augustine 2021, pp. 57–71). A secular peace activist, in conversation with Augustine, told her not to expect much from the church, for it is “a conquered people. They have signed a treaty with the state” (Augustine 2021, p. 71). If justpeace-diaconia is to be defined as the “active expression of Christian witness”, then it must be a “transformative prophetic diakonia, which is change-oriented and boldly addresses root causes” (Nordstokke 2011b, p. 226). This is not easy work, but the courage to do it must be found because our lives together depend on it.

Ecumenical work toward structural change is crucial and needs to lead us toward solidarity actions. “Solidarity is not symbolic. It is a conscious change in position, where those who are not threatened with oppression step across a line—from the sidelines to sharing the fate of the oppressed” (Augustine 2021, p. 169).

8. Everyday Justpeace-Diaconia

Therefore, on the local front, how do we begin to articulate practices for our justpeace-diaconia? Local diaconal ministry efforts are lodged within the concerns of their regional context. Regan asserts that settlers who keep hoping that they can help solve the existent problems are prevented “from acknowledging our [own] need to decolonize (Regan 2011, p. 11). It is crucial that critical self/community-reflection must be paired with action in order for an uncomfortable but new settler consciousness to emerge (Regan 2011, pp. 236–37). This entails not losing “sight of the need to ‘unsettle’ the settler colonial logic, narratives and practices embedded in everyday life” (Davis et al. 2016, p. 13). This quotidian space is where much narrative-changing and creative peace-diaconia work can and does emerge.

This work of the everyday refers to “those practices and lives that have traditionally been left out of historical accounts... It becomes shorthand for voices from ‘below’: women, children, migrants and so on” (Highmore 2002, p. 1). These can also be the “spontaneous” diaconal opportunities that come in the form of the “Samaritan on the road”, if only we are looking (Nordstokke 2011b, p. 224). It is also a “lifelong and urgent journey of dismantling colonial systems and structures” (Davis et al. 2016, p. 5). In the face of unpeace, the literature of the everyday and everyday peacebuilding (Mac Ginty 2014; Richmond 2016) can expand creativity towards imagining new spaces for reflecting on the types of opportunities existent for peacebuilding. We need not look far, for in Luke 17:21, Jesus declares: “the kingdom of God is in your midst” (NIV). Indeed, Nordstokke quotes Martin Luther as saying, “there is no need for a Christian to invent good work; it comes to us in the form of everyday challenges” (Nordstokke 2011b, p. 224). The everyday peace-diaconia requires an orientation to contextual needs and challenges.

The everyday perspective simply refers to a context where community members are interested and engaged in their surroundings and where local needs already exist. Being attuned to the potential of everyday peacebuilding requires developing lenses to notice emergent spaces that hold potential for change within everyday actions. It is “a form of agency” at the local level and emerges from a nurtured mindfulness towards the desire for (decolonizing) change as well as the openness to observing the potential for peacebuilding in any daily interaction (Mac Ginty 2014). Diaconal undertakings towards community enhancement would benefit from developing this posture of engagement. It is this posture that nurtures a culturally relevant and relationship-oriented opportunity toward community transformation. Attention to the contextual realities and praxeological response grows the church toward the audacity of the gospel rather than to the conformity of society.

This framework is intended for those seeking to understand their own journey of decolonization and desiring to be significant actors in peace-diaconia—to prod the diaconal work of the church—and to shape an imagination for the framing of its work. It is clear, through probing various perspectives of whose peace, what peace, and who will act on the peace, that a deep foundation built on being responsive to both context and praxis is necessary. Diaconal ministries that are theologically grounded and attuned to the praxeological potential are then prepared for the exploration of options toward peacebuilding. Nordstokke would say that without this praxeological feature, “diakonia might remain mere rhetoric or unrealistic idealism, because it would not be rooted in the everyday life of the church and the congregations” (Nordstokke 2011b, p. 225). It is this deportment that allows for our “renewal and transformation” toward the potential for reconciliation (Nordstokke 2011b, p. 232).

9. Everyday Walking for Reconciliation

What might everyday peace-diaconia explicitly look like? Indigenous activist Michael Redhead Champagne regularly tells white settlers who ask what they can do to be supportive, if an Indigenous person asks you to come out and support an event, come. Do not hesitate. Winnipeg’s Bear Clan Patrol is not a church ministry. It came about as a result of a community group’s desire to embark on a traditional method to provide security to the Aboriginal community (Bear Clan Patrol Inc., n.d.). It is a community-based approach to violence reduction in an area of the city where many Indigenous people are struggling on a daily basis. A small group of volunteers walk the streets of the neighbourhood each evening, seeing people home from work, stepping in when there’s conflict, watching out for children and picking up drug paraphernalia. This walking of the streets focuses on relationship-building in a context where residents are stressed by conflict and perceptions of danger. Safety is also addressed as patrols clean up the paraphernalia left abandoned after drug use. “We are the boots on the ground”, said James Favel, the founder of Winnipeg’s Bear Clan Patrol. “We are the direct action that our nation has been crying for for decades” (Kassam 2019). This community of walkers invites others to join them. It is an opportunity for an act of solidarity, walking dark streets where many residents fear for their safety and where stepping in is not without its risks. It is an invitation to face the impacts of poverty and systemic racism directly. It is an opportunity to be held accountable to that community.

They say about themselves:

This [sense of relationship-building and safety] is achieved in a non-violent, non-threatening, non-judgmental, and supportive manner primarily through relationship building and reconciliation. The Patrol demonstrates a way of being that works in harmony with the broader community rather than in conflict with it and in a relationship that encourages rather than seeking to defeat leadership as it emerges at a local level.

(Bear Clan Patrol Inc. n.d.)

It is an approach that builds and encourages internal community agency. More is needed beyond externally provided material resources. Ham writes that “marginalized people, through their lives and everyday resistance, practice diakonia”, already living out a peace-diaconia that exhibits their strengths (Ham 2012, p. 387). The Exodus 3 text message is clear that God hears “the cry of the oppressed and responds by sustaining and accompanying them in their journey toward liberation” (Ham 2012, p. 387, Exod. 3: 7–8). A liberative justpeace-diaconia restores dignity and participates in the agentive actions of people seeking that justice and peace. Augustine utilizes the text in Philippians to describe her dream of a church that is united for justice: “Instead of each person watching out for their own good, watch out for what is better for others” (Philippians 2: 4–11 CEB).

10. Conclusions

In the Canadian context today, Christian diaconal reflection and action must specifically respond to the call to “reconciliation”, recognizing not only the ongoing depth and continuing effects of the historical injustice that is colonialism but also the church’s own complicity in the past and present trauma experienced by Indigenous Peoples. What is called for is a diaconia framed as justpeace-diaconia that is committed to a fulsome understanding of “reconciliation”, one that is committed to both structural engagement and the work of the everyday. It includes not only the effort to decolonize one’s own framework and activities, addressing issues of power and privilege but also a commitment toward reparation through solidarity, not through the stance of helping. The invitation from Indigenous peoples is for settlers to become “allies”: in Augustine’s words, to become a “relative”, not a “helper” (Augustine 2021). The call is to a process that will “continually engage in self-reflexivity and consistently work at being an ally (through learning, acting in a de-colonial manner, and sustaining relationships with Indigenous Peoples, etc.)” (Smith et al. 2016, p. 6). Justpeace-diaconia will answer the transformative call (that has been made to us), and engage in collaborative structural change (cognizant that our privilege changes) while seeking to partner with those on the margins on a daily basis so as to breathe life—one flourishing for all—into the social practice of the church.