In my former parish, there was a Thanksgiving Newsletter that was mailed out to the entire parish mailing list. The parish newsletter was a very slick publication that required first that submissions go to the editor. Once the editor was finished with it, the parish Communication Director, a professional graphic artist, would format it and make an extremely eye-catching presentation. It then made its way to the printer, and from there went to the DC class at Forest Heights Collegiate, who would fold it, place it in envelopes, and attach the mailing labels, and finally Canada Post would deliver the newsletter to every household in the parish. The number of steps in the process, and the number of hands it needed to pass through, meant that submissions for the Thanksgiving Newsletter needed to be completed by mid-August.
I remember well one August when my mind was rebelling against this idea of getting my mind wrapped around Thanksgiving in the middle of my summer vacation. There were so many things that seemed more appropriate for me to think about on a warm August day. Why Thanksgiving?
On that particular day, I had visited the farmers' market at St. Jacobs, and come home with a car loaded with all the necessary ingredients to make the old family recipe for Chili Sauce. It isn't a terribly involved recipe, apart from preparing all the vegetables, but it is one that needs to simmer and be stirred all day long. And so I found myself fairly tied to the house. At the same time, next door at the church, our regular Summer Day Camp was running in week 5, and I would regularly drop in and talk to the children. All the while, my rebellious mind kept asking, "What am I to say about Thanksgiving in the middle of August? It isn't time for Thanksgiving yet."
And so it was that I left the chili sauce simmering in the kitchen and went next door to the church to enjoy some play time with the children at the camp. I had no sooner walked through the door, than a little girl named Stephanie ran up and gave me a big hug. I was overjoyed to see her, as she had been registered for camp all summer, but had missed many days as she went to Chemotherapy. On this day, her colour was good, and her energy was high, and her smile just radiated joy. I joined in the planned games of the camp, and then walked home to my house, where the simmering food had filled the entire space with glorious smells.
Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Thanksgiving dawned on me. Little Stephanie was at camp today. She was well enough today to participate in the whole day's activities. Thank God! I was blessed with a wonderful parish that worked very hard to operate that Summer Day camp for eight weeks each summer so that 30 children each week could come and learn about faith, and experience the love of God in our space. Thank God! I had been to one of the greatest farmers Markets in the country, and had been able to come home with my car laden with all manner of food. Thank God! I was a part of a family filled with traditions like the making of that "secret" chill sauce recipe, passed on one generation to another, a family that had loved and formed me into the person I am. Thank God! Once those flood gates had opened, at every turn, I saw things there in an August Day, that were every bit as important to thank God for as the harvest that, as a farm boy, was usually the focus of our Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving is not a day that we mark on the calendar, although we have a day to draw it into focus. Thanksgiving is way of looking at all of life; it is an attitude that can change our entire perspective on the day to day experiences of life. When we approach all of life with Thanksgiving, we can find incredible joy in the things that are easy to take for granted.
Several years ago, just after my sister and her husband adopted Alice and Owen, I found myself walking on he trail in the woods on their property with these two small children in tow. At first, I found myself getting frustrated that the kids were going so incredibly slowly. They stopped practically at every step. "Uncle Don, look at this bug." "Uncle Don, see this rock." Suddenly, I realized that through Alice and Owen, I was getting a chance to see the world for the first time, all over again. Their little eyes were doing precisely that. They were seeing things for the first time, that I had seen so many times, that I had sadly ceased to be filled with wonder about them. This was a "God moment" for me. I slowed my usual break-neck pace through life, and took time with those two small children to explore the path I walked very regularly. The walk I took so regularly became an adventure. In walking along with two small children, I got the opportunity to once again experience a walk around Orrs Lake as a magical walk in a world filled with beauty.
My prayer for all of you as we come to the day that we have set aside to focus on giving thanks for all the goodness in our lives, is that first of all, we might be given that opportunity to see the world "for the first time all over again." I pray that we might all see and truly understand some of the blessings that fill our lives, that we so often walk past without a thought. And I pray that we might come to Thanksgiving, and to every day with an attitude of Thanksgiving. I pray that we could all take the time on that day that we set aside to focus on giving thanks, to really take stock of all that we truly have to give thanks for, and that we might carry that thankfulness into the other 364 days of the year.
I won't close this by saying "May God richly bless you all" because my sense is that if we truly use Thanksgiving as an opportunity to take stock, we will realize that God already has blessed us all.
Friday 30 September 2016
Tuesday 27 September 2016
On Holy Hospitality
One of the things that is really great about a new ministry, is that since you are not used to "the way things are done" here, you spend an awful lot of time observing. You see things in ways that the people who have been there for a long time might not have noticed as they developed over the long arch of God's leading of that congregation. I find myself doing just that sort of observation.
This past Sunday, from the vantage point of the presider's chair, I was offered the opportunity to look out across the Cathedral congregation and observe a bit of the life of the congregation. First, because I make a point of being at the entrance to greet God's people as they arrive for worship, (A lesson I learned in Youth ministry: you need to greet youth as they arrive so that they feel welcomed, appreciated and loved) i have the chance to find out a little about the people who come to worship, and to hear a little of their story. St. George's has a great variety of people who form the worship community, and because of it's age, its beauty, and its status as a Cathedral, it almost never fails to have visitors arrive for worship. St. George's has a strong contingent of University faculty and teachers as one would expect from a major church in a University town, but owing to its position in the core of the city, it also has people coming in off the streets, who have connected through programs like Lunch by George. I am impressed and pleased to say that All get a warm welcome.
The thing that surprised me in my observation this week though, has more to do with the constant run of tourists who come to the Cathedral. Our Cathedral tour guides at most times are there answering questions, filling in information, and giving the gift of hospitality, but what I saw were tourists that wandered in in the midst of worship. Seemingly unaware of the fact that the Christian church might be busy at worship at 10:30 in the morning on a Sunday, they came in they wandered, they looked around, and often they left only a few moments later. In one case, even as I preached the sermon, one group came down the side aisle, to a spot right beside the pulpit, and proceeded to light candles there.
It would be easy to simply term this group that come through the doors as "nuisance visitors." It would be easy to get annoyed at their intrusion into our holy time with God, but that is not what I observed from my seat in the presider's chair. What I saw was that every person who entered through the doors, whether they came in before, during, or after worship; whether they stayed and prayed, or just looked around and left again, each one was treated with respect and hospitality. Every person through those doors was seen as someone worthy of respect; worthy of a welcome.
It very much put me in mind of words from the letter to the Hebrews. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it." I would have to say that my first impression of the ministry of Holy Hospitality at St. George's is very positive. We are not called to judge those that come through the doors. None of us knows for what reason God has brought them to this place today. It is only our call to do the best we can to offer them a chance to encounter our risen Lord in whatever time they manage to spend with us. May God continue to challenge us with the gift of visitors, and may we not neglect to show hospitality, that perhaps we might entertain angels without knowing it.
This past Sunday, from the vantage point of the presider's chair, I was offered the opportunity to look out across the Cathedral congregation and observe a bit of the life of the congregation. First, because I make a point of being at the entrance to greet God's people as they arrive for worship, (A lesson I learned in Youth ministry: you need to greet youth as they arrive so that they feel welcomed, appreciated and loved) i have the chance to find out a little about the people who come to worship, and to hear a little of their story. St. George's has a great variety of people who form the worship community, and because of it's age, its beauty, and its status as a Cathedral, it almost never fails to have visitors arrive for worship. St. George's has a strong contingent of University faculty and teachers as one would expect from a major church in a University town, but owing to its position in the core of the city, it also has people coming in off the streets, who have connected through programs like Lunch by George. I am impressed and pleased to say that All get a warm welcome.
The thing that surprised me in my observation this week though, has more to do with the constant run of tourists who come to the Cathedral. Our Cathedral tour guides at most times are there answering questions, filling in information, and giving the gift of hospitality, but what I saw were tourists that wandered in in the midst of worship. Seemingly unaware of the fact that the Christian church might be busy at worship at 10:30 in the morning on a Sunday, they came in they wandered, they looked around, and often they left only a few moments later. In one case, even as I preached the sermon, one group came down the side aisle, to a spot right beside the pulpit, and proceeded to light candles there.
It would be easy to simply term this group that come through the doors as "nuisance visitors." It would be easy to get annoyed at their intrusion into our holy time with God, but that is not what I observed from my seat in the presider's chair. What I saw was that every person who entered through the doors, whether they came in before, during, or after worship; whether they stayed and prayed, or just looked around and left again, each one was treated with respect and hospitality. Every person through those doors was seen as someone worthy of respect; worthy of a welcome.
It very much put me in mind of words from the letter to the Hebrews. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it." I would have to say that my first impression of the ministry of Holy Hospitality at St. George's is very positive. We are not called to judge those that come through the doors. None of us knows for what reason God has brought them to this place today. It is only our call to do the best we can to offer them a chance to encounter our risen Lord in whatever time they manage to spend with us. May God continue to challenge us with the gift of visitors, and may we not neglect to show hospitality, that perhaps we might entertain angels without knowing it.
Wednesday 21 September 2016
On Healing
Throughout my life in ministry, the sacrament of unction and prayers for healing has been a very important part of parish ministry. At St. David's and St. Thomas the Apostle in Cambridge, there was a very small mid-week gathering for anointing that grew up early in my ministry. It was very small and often struggled just to keep going. At times, I would begin to feel disheartened, but someone suddenly came to Parish Council, having just heard of this service, and asked why it was not being carried on at the regular Sunday worship. We soon began to include anointing in the Sunday liturgy at least once each month. I was amazed to find that almost all the congregation came forward to be anointed.
Upon arriving at St. George's of Forest Hill, I began to work on a Wednesday morning, which meant that my first responsibility was to celebrate the Eucharist for a very small gathering that come out to Eucharist in the Chapel of the Transfiguration there. That first Wednesday, it was me and two of the faithful. One was a retired executive administrative assistant for the Waterloo Region District School Board, and Directress of the Altar Guild, and the other a Nigerian woman named Bisi who lived in the neighbourhood and called the Wednesday Eucharist her worshipping community. When the service was ended, Bisi came to me. She was a woman who always came to worship dressed in her traditional Nigerian dress, and I came to realize over the years, she had a faith larger than life. We came to call he Bishop Bisi, because like most Nigerians that I have known in life, she was almost always late, and yet we always held up the service until she was there, because "you can't begin without the Bishop."
On that very first day of my incumbency, Bisi said to me, "I have a sense that you have the gift of healing, and this parish really needs healing. Do you suppose that we could change this service into a healing service. The very next Wednesday, the ministry of healing began. Twelve years later we had a regular congregation of 25 on Wednesday morning., and at times that 25 would go up as high as 35. Bisi had long since returned to her Lord, but the ministry of healing that she so wanted to see happening in her congregation continued and thrived.
Again, in that place, when we would offer anointing at a side chapel on a Sunday morning on occasion, it was overwhelming to see how many people would come forward to be anointed, and how very important the sacrament of unction was to the life of that community.A year ago, the congregation that gathered for healing in the chapel of the Transfiguration had a special aumbry for the oils commissioned and installed in the chapel as a gift from that entire community back to the parish in thanksgiving for this ministry
It was interesting just how right Bisi was about the needs of that parish though. The church itself was recovering from a difficult chapter with a former incumbent, and at the same time, several parishioners were moving into health challenges, either for themselves or for parents, and this ministry of healing was incredibly important for them. At each of these weekly gatherings, we would pray for the needs for healing among those who had gathered, we would pray for the healing needs of those whom we loved. We would pray for the healing of our parish, and we would pray for those who worked for healing in the world around us, for Doctors and nurses, care-givers and other professions that supported our healthcare system.
Speaking personally, I vividly remember when my mom suffered the major stroke that took away her ability to speak, how that little congregation on Wednesday morning gathered around me and around my family, and prayed for her. Again, when my dad suffered the stroke that ended up with both mom and dad moving to the Village of Winston Park, not only did we lean on God's healing power, but that small congregation that was committed to the work of healing, supported and upheld my parents and myself. As a community, they ministered healing, even as we gathered to call for God's healing for the situations for which we were concerned.
Now as I transition into the ministry of St. George's Cathedral, I am overjoyed to find that there is a regular Healing Eucharist that forms a part of the regular pattern of weekly worship in this place also. I am happy that I am able to celebrate at that worship whenever I like, but I am far happier to find that Archdeacon Michael Caswell is happy to continue on to lead this worship. It is certainly not an accident that I have set the celebration of the new relationship of ministry that we are entering into here at St. George's for the Feast of St. Luke the Physician and Evangelist. The ministry of anointing and prayers for healing has grown to be an incredibly important part of priestly ministry for me. I cannot imagine not taking time in each week to consider the need for healing, and praying for God to take action in those needs.
Upon arriving at St. George's of Forest Hill, I began to work on a Wednesday morning, which meant that my first responsibility was to celebrate the Eucharist for a very small gathering that come out to Eucharist in the Chapel of the Transfiguration there. That first Wednesday, it was me and two of the faithful. One was a retired executive administrative assistant for the Waterloo Region District School Board, and Directress of the Altar Guild, and the other a Nigerian woman named Bisi who lived in the neighbourhood and called the Wednesday Eucharist her worshipping community. When the service was ended, Bisi came to me. She was a woman who always came to worship dressed in her traditional Nigerian dress, and I came to realize over the years, she had a faith larger than life. We came to call he Bishop Bisi, because like most Nigerians that I have known in life, she was almost always late, and yet we always held up the service until she was there, because "you can't begin without the Bishop."
On that very first day of my incumbency, Bisi said to me, "I have a sense that you have the gift of healing, and this parish really needs healing. Do you suppose that we could change this service into a healing service. The very next Wednesday, the ministry of healing began. Twelve years later we had a regular congregation of 25 on Wednesday morning., and at times that 25 would go up as high as 35. Bisi had long since returned to her Lord, but the ministry of healing that she so wanted to see happening in her congregation continued and thrived.
Again, in that place, when we would offer anointing at a side chapel on a Sunday morning on occasion, it was overwhelming to see how many people would come forward to be anointed, and how very important the sacrament of unction was to the life of that community.A year ago, the congregation that gathered for healing in the chapel of the Transfiguration had a special aumbry for the oils commissioned and installed in the chapel as a gift from that entire community back to the parish in thanksgiving for this ministry
It was interesting just how right Bisi was about the needs of that parish though. The church itself was recovering from a difficult chapter with a former incumbent, and at the same time, several parishioners were moving into health challenges, either for themselves or for parents, and this ministry of healing was incredibly important for them. At each of these weekly gatherings, we would pray for the needs for healing among those who had gathered, we would pray for the healing needs of those whom we loved. We would pray for the healing of our parish, and we would pray for those who worked for healing in the world around us, for Doctors and nurses, care-givers and other professions that supported our healthcare system.
Speaking personally, I vividly remember when my mom suffered the major stroke that took away her ability to speak, how that little congregation on Wednesday morning gathered around me and around my family, and prayed for her. Again, when my dad suffered the stroke that ended up with both mom and dad moving to the Village of Winston Park, not only did we lean on God's healing power, but that small congregation that was committed to the work of healing, supported and upheld my parents and myself. As a community, they ministered healing, even as we gathered to call for God's healing for the situations for which we were concerned.
Now as I transition into the ministry of St. George's Cathedral, I am overjoyed to find that there is a regular Healing Eucharist that forms a part of the regular pattern of weekly worship in this place also. I am happy that I am able to celebrate at that worship whenever I like, but I am far happier to find that Archdeacon Michael Caswell is happy to continue on to lead this worship. It is certainly not an accident that I have set the celebration of the new relationship of ministry that we are entering into here at St. George's for the Feast of St. Luke the Physician and Evangelist. The ministry of anointing and prayers for healing has grown to be an incredibly important part of priestly ministry for me. I cannot imagine not taking time in each week to consider the need for healing, and praying for God to take action in those needs.
Tuesday 6 September 2016
On Taking Stock of the stuff...
It would seem that major changes in my life never really go quite according to plan. I have had months to plan the move from Kitchener to Kingston, but still there have been all manner of bumps along the way. Perhaps the biggest has been trying to arrange for my stuff to join me here in Kingston.
I had booked the move to happen on September 7th, so that my things would arrive here about a week behind me, but I figured that I had enough things here with me that I could "camp out" for a week without much difficulty. What I hadn't seen was that to secure that date with the movers I needed to sign back the estimate. I had sent numerous emails to them stating that date, but when I contacted them to work out logistics, they told me that since I had not signed the estimate, they gave my time and date to another customer.
So now, my "stuff" will not join me until September 14th. My first thought was that this was going to be terrible. Yesterday, my sister and I, David and Kathy, and Becky had worked very hard getting everything ready for the truck to arrive. It seemed like it would all go ahead according to plan. Now, how would I live without all that stuff?
I hadn't sat fuming about this for very long before I realized that I have been very happy there in the house with just the bare bones of necessities. The "Camping" experience has been really quite enjoyable. Without all the stuff, I have been able to spend lots of time working on projects around the house, and have accomplished lots of things.
It put me back in mind of the message that I had preached on Sunday, (full audio of the sermon is available here. https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/258986237/20160904%200800%20Sermon%20Don%20Davidson.mp3 ) on the Gospel in Luke where Jesus tells the crowds that are following him that they cannot be his disciples unless they can leave behind father and mother, sister and brother, wives and children, and where he cautions them that they cannot be his disciples unless they can renounce all their possessions. He never calls any of those "Things" or people bad, he simply tells them that Discipleship cannot be an add-on to life. It must always be the very core. All other things must take a back seat to our discipleship.
All my stuff -- and believe me, when it was all piled up in one place, it truly was a frightening pile -- (or even the lack of it) has not really impacted on the joy of this new ministry. With or without "stuff" I have been called, and I have answered that call, and it has led me down an exciting path. The Gospel is right, in that we can at times get so focused on our "Stuff" that we lose sight of what is truly important. What a joy to be reminded that no matter where I may be, or whether or not things move along smoothly, I have everything I need right here with me.
I had booked the move to happen on September 7th, so that my things would arrive here about a week behind me, but I figured that I had enough things here with me that I could "camp out" for a week without much difficulty. What I hadn't seen was that to secure that date with the movers I needed to sign back the estimate. I had sent numerous emails to them stating that date, but when I contacted them to work out logistics, they told me that since I had not signed the estimate, they gave my time and date to another customer.
So now, my "stuff" will not join me until September 14th. My first thought was that this was going to be terrible. Yesterday, my sister and I, David and Kathy, and Becky had worked very hard getting everything ready for the truck to arrive. It seemed like it would all go ahead according to plan. Now, how would I live without all that stuff?
I hadn't sat fuming about this for very long before I realized that I have been very happy there in the house with just the bare bones of necessities. The "Camping" experience has been really quite enjoyable. Without all the stuff, I have been able to spend lots of time working on projects around the house, and have accomplished lots of things.
It put me back in mind of the message that I had preached on Sunday, (full audio of the sermon is available here. https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/258986237/20160904%200800%20Sermon%20Don%20Davidson.mp3 ) on the Gospel in Luke where Jesus tells the crowds that are following him that they cannot be his disciples unless they can leave behind father and mother, sister and brother, wives and children, and where he cautions them that they cannot be his disciples unless they can renounce all their possessions. He never calls any of those "Things" or people bad, he simply tells them that Discipleship cannot be an add-on to life. It must always be the very core. All other things must take a back seat to our discipleship.
All my stuff -- and believe me, when it was all piled up in one place, it truly was a frightening pile -- (or even the lack of it) has not really impacted on the joy of this new ministry. With or without "stuff" I have been called, and I have answered that call, and it has led me down an exciting path. The Gospel is right, in that we can at times get so focused on our "Stuff" that we lose sight of what is truly important. What a joy to be reminded that no matter where I may be, or whether or not things move along smoothly, I have everything I need right here with me.
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