×
COVID Can’t Cancel Church in Ottawa ParkCOVID Can’t Cancel Church in Ottawa Park

COVID Can’t Cancel Church in Ottawa Park

Despite fines for congregating contrary to COVID rules, an open air church in an inner-city park flourishes by serving society’s marginalized, writes Matthew Boardman.

Matthew Boardman
3 minute read
Like Convivium? , our free weekly email newsletter.

Recent media reports of a petition by residents in Ottawa’s inner-city Dundonald Park neighbourhood demanding more community supports for indigent users of the park were music to my ears.

Gospel music to be precise.

I’m a Christian pastor who works with the poor, the marginalized, the substance abusers, and the homeless who congregate daily in Dundonald Park. I’m also a former street kid from Toronto who spent part of my life in government housing and 16 years of it in federal prison. If I know anything about anything, it’s about the crying need for – and the painful absence of – community support.

One of the things I’ve learned is that community can exist in what looks – from even just across the street – like a ragged assembly of aimless individuals. It’s not surprising if neighbourhood residents see exactly that within Dundonald Park itself. They naturally crave peace and quiet, which is often notably lacking.

But when I moved into the area to share the Gospel message of love of neighbour, I quickly saw how even those involved in drugs and violence were gathered within Dundonald Park as a community. They were just going about it the wrong way. Today, after a year of daily building trust and rapport, we have a gathering of 60 people meeting on Sunday. We have a smaller event on Saturdays, and one-on-one interactions throughout the week.

Our message is consistent. We speak about the peace, hope and love found through our relationship with Jesus Christ. We share testimonials about the changes we’ve experienced in our lives. We are there, partnering with the local churches such as Peace Tower Church and Christ Church, to support to the community.

We meet people where they’re at and serve the entire community regardless of their religious or non-religious affiliations.

Practical actions flowing from our message are equally consistent. I lead an addictions ministry out of Peace Tower Church that is well-positioned to serve the Centertown community with the drug and alcohol abuse. We have begun working together with the local restaurant and business communities to provide housing and job opportunities.

As a former federal inmate, I myself work with various stakeholders within the criminal justice and rehabilitation fields to develop a comprehensive and holistic model of change that embraces both the depth and breadth of human and community restoration.

Our approach is to deal with both the physical and spiritual needs of those we are privileged to serve. As a result, we’ve seen a significant group of people whose lives have changed. I’ve personally moved some of them into stable housing and offered collateral support to many others. There is always more work to be done, but we are beginning to witness members of the park govern one another and influence each other positively.

These people form the most vulnerable group in Canada’s national capital. We’ve saved more lives from suicide, and prevented more violence and drug overdoses, than not engaging them during COVID could ever have done. We have done so, to the best of our ability, in cooperation with the city and local stakeholders.

Paradoxically, the strongest opposition we’ve faced has come from people who've called by-law enforcement to prevent us congregating in Dundonald Park as, well, a church congregation. They have adopted the perspective of, “we commend you for what you’re doing – just don’t do it in our backyard.”

Are you enjoying this article?
Subscribe to our weekly newsletter and never miss another one.

To their credit, law enforcement officers have never stopped park inhabitants from gathering in non-socially distanced ways as some media reporting suggests. Yet they were forced to ticket our church twice for bringing order to the chaos that existed. One fine was for separating those who identify as being part of our church into socially distanced groups of five to sit on the grass to talk about the love of Christ and one’s neighbor.

We were punished for merely seeking to walk beside troubled people through every facet of their lives. Yet we, too, live in the community. We are here to stay. We will continue to accompany people journeying from a lives of crime, violence, and substance abuse to wholeness and completeness as human beings.

Media focus has been on how those in Dundonald Park negatively affect the local neighbourhood and, on the positive side, how more community supports are needed. Left out is the perspective of those whose community is within the park itself. I suggest that’s the place to start: to identify experientially with the people we serve, and to walk beside them, in community, toward a better life. That is how we can create supportive solutions together.

Photo by Helena Lopes on Unsplash.com


Convivium publishes texts that do not necessarily reflect the views held by Cardus, the Convivium team, or its editors. In the spirit of discussion, dialogue, and debate, we ask readers to bear in mind that publication does not equal endorsement. Thanks for reading. Join the conversation!

You'll also enjoy...

A COVID Shot in the Dark

A COVID Shot in the Dark

In this first of two parts, Tara Vreugdenhil argues the pandemic response has unleashed a contagion of fuzzy language, shifting definitions, and logic that doesn’t follow.

The Tent of Abraham

The Tent of Abraham

Catholic Priest Father Noel Farman brings his “universal heart” to Calgary from his native Nineveh, Amanda Achtman reports.

Beginning Again

Beginning Again

"I grew up attending church and singing in the church choir. But, I wouldn’t consider myself or my family to be religious. As a child, I never really understood why I needed to go to church. I didn’t understand the importance that faith or religion can play in a person's life. I truly believe that my story of faith begins in 2012 because that year the dynamic of our family changed."

Join Convivium

Convivium means living together. Unlike many digital magazines, we haven’t put up a digital paywall. We want to keep the conversation regarding faith in our common and public life as open as possible.

Get a weekly wrap up of the latest articles delivered right to your inbox.