West Point Grey United Church was invited to the Annual General Meeting of the 2026 Pacific Mountain Regional Council in Kamloops to share how we are doing our ministry with others as an opening testimonial at the gathering. The following is written by Gabrielle Mew, our Regional Representative. As the third generation of a Chinese Canadian family, she describes our intercultural journey with honesty and hope — and she said it best herself: the goal is not that newcomers become like us, but that together, we become something new.

Hello everyone. My name is Gabrielle Mew, and I’m here today to talk to you all about the intercultural ministry at our church, West Point Grey United.

But before I do, I’d like to share a bit about how and why I got here today. Mew, my family name, is the name that my grandfather carried with him from the Pearl River Delta in Southern China, all the way to Vancouver in 1923. He arrived into a turbulent storm of country-wide outrage around immigration, into a country that charged him a $500 head tax and later that month passed the Chinese Exclusion Act.

But my grandfather always believed in gently, determinedly pushing the limits of what other people told him he could be. In 1931, he opened a produce store in the predominantly Caucasian neighborhood of West Point Grey, 2 blocks from the local United Church. And in calm defiance of rising hate speech and protest, he found a community and a spiritual home there. One that transcended language, culture, ethnicity, and one that was only possible because of those who welcomed him in, who opened the door and insisted it stay open, no matter who walked through it. Those who believed God’s love was truly for everyone, that following in the path of Jesus is something we were always meant to do together, with open minds and open hearts.

I sit 5 pews down and a little to the left of where my grandfather sat every Sunday. And while the sanctuary itself appears the same, the congregation looks different now. Our city and the population within have changed so much, and yet some things haven’t changed nearly as much as we’d like.

Which is why 15 years ago, when an adamant minister and a few congregation members started calling for a more definitive, intentional shift towards intercultural ministry, they were met with some of the same resistance my grandfather was, almost 100 years ago.

Regardless of any inevitable reticence to change, amid the same declining attendance and aging congregation that so many other churches are struggling with, the message was clear – our church needed to look outwards, into the greater community to make new connections and find new ways to meet each other in Christ.

Our formal intercultural ministry began in 2013 with the appointment of our wonderful intercultural coordinator Linda, who had started with translating the weekly reflections into Mandarin. And then over the years, with her leadership and the time and energy of many volunteers, it grew into live translations, multilingual powerpoints, cultural celebrations, language classes, weekly scripture in the home language of whoever signed up to read. These may not all sound like huge things, but each one is huge to us. They’re huge to someone who has not heard their home language regularly since they left, to anyone who feels even a little more welcome because of it. Every person is encouraged to speak the Lord’s prayer in the language they learned it, and every Sunday I hear my husband recite it the way his parents said to him every night in Spanish, and for those moments I am surrounded by the sound of Christ’s Love in a dozen different languages.

As anyone who lives their daily life in a language that isn’t their first knows, there are some things that can’t be translated. And there is something beautiful in saying “if there are no words for something in this language, I will teach you how to say it in mine”. In knowing that God meets you wherever you are, and speaks to us in every language.

What became evident early in these efforts was that building a system for inclusion can only take you so far. Despite having many cultures present, there is always a natural inclination to stay within familiar waters, sit with those who already speak your language. But someone has to start, to take a seat somewhere new, to start and continue hard conversations.

Musqueam weaver and knowledge keeper Debra Sparrow once said that “Where is it written that we all have to speak the same language to understand who we are?”

I love that quote. Because to work towards really understanding one another, is to find new hope and light in the spaces we create in between comfort zones and old habits. To find God’s Spirit within the beauty of our differences, and not just acknowledge those differences but embrace and celebrate them. The goal of our ministry is not that newcomers be like us, but that together, we become something new.

Although the beginnings of our intercultural ministry were influenced by a fear for our future, it has brought life and joy and lessons we could not have imagined. It has become a spiritual practice, shown us humility, curiosity, hospitality, an openness and willingness to see and hear Christ in each other. Something that my grandfather and those who welcomed him into West Point Grey somehow had faith in 100 years ago, and something that we’re all still figuring out together today.

Many people that have come to our church have found us through our intercultural ministry, but also through our 2SLGBTQ+ affirming and justice ministries. We strive to be a community that does its best to honour the rainbow of cultures, languages, gender identities, values of its congregation, but something we have learned is that not only will there always be some resistance to change, there will always be someone missing, something that we’ve forgotten or just not yet learned. And that anxiety, that fear of not being inclusive enough – it can be a very powerful deterrent. And I’ve heard from many people that sometimes that is enough to keep them from reaching out. But the best we can do is try, and listen, constantly, and without ego.

When the world feels like it’s burning down around you, not everyone thinks they can find hope within the doors of a church anymore – especially the younger generations. But more will come in and find out if we keep the door open, and do everything we can to make sure it’s a welcoming place to be.

Thank you for listening. In Jesus’ name, Amen.