Category Archives: Uncategorized

There’s a curious truth in parish life — the people who think they are running the place seldom are, and the people who think they have nothing to offer often carry the quiet wisdom that keeps the whole thing from toppling over like a badly stacked tower of hymnbooks. St. Paul, in one of hisContinue reading “The Broken Become the Body: Rethinking Ministry from the Margins (because sometimes the church’s strongest muscles are its sprained ankles)”

There are Sundays when the pew feels less like a seat and more like a lifeboat — weathered by time, creaky in places, but afloat on a sea of sorrow, doubt, and grace. It’s not always the grand, Titanic-sized disasters that bring people through the church doors. Sometimes it’s the quieter storms — the onesContinue reading “When the Pew Feels Like a Lifeboat: Church as Sanctuary for the Suffering”

Our parish sign has fallen into disrepair, and the discussions about fixing or replacing it have inspired me to think about how that sign, and the whole front lawn form a part of our proclamation — an important outreach into the community that we are called to serve There are few things as revealing aboutContinue reading “The Parish Front Lawn: Theology of a Noticeboard”

There’s a curious paradox in the clergy wardrobe. On Sunday morning, I tie the rope — pardon me, the cincture — around my waist, adjust the folds of the alb, and smooth out the wrinkles as best as possible. (Though truth be told, some wrinkles in an alb seem divinely ordained.) Then, I step outContinue reading “Vestments and Vulnerability: What the Alb Can’t Hide”

There is a peculiar sound that only clergy can hear. It’s the collective rustle of bulletins as the congregation discovers — at the same moment you do — that the order of service has gone rogue. One minute you’re confidently leading “The Gloria,” and the next you’re five hymns deep in a parallel universe whereContinue reading “When the Bulletin Doesn’t Match the Service (Laughing and Learning Through the Chaos of Sunday Morning Mishaps)”

There was a time when spiritual warfare was something waged in the wilderness. Now, it’s fought in the inbox. I sometimes imagine Jesus sitting at a laptop — perhaps something modest and slightly outdated, donated by a well-meaning parishioner who “upgraded for the Kingdom.” There He is, sandals crossed, cursor blinking, staring at an inboxContinue reading “What Would Jesus Do with Email? (A Meditation on Digital Discipleship and the Sanctification of the Inbox)”

There are few places where Canadians experience purgatory quite so vividly as in the coffee queue at Tim Hortons. It is the crucible of modern sanctification — a place where patience is tested, tempers are tempted, and the faint aroma of double-double mingles with the faint odour of human frailty. We line up, bleary-eyed andContinue reading “The Theology of the Coffee Queue : Finding grace and patience while waiting in line—and how the Kingdom sneaks up in small talk at Tim Hortons”

There are days — sometimes weeks, months, or let’s be honest, years — when I wish God had a better communications department. I’m not talking about the whole “burning bush” special effects budget or the “angel choir” production team. I mean the simple, practical stuff: a memo. A note. An email, perhaps? “Dear Don, afterContinue reading “Holy Indecision: When God Doesn’t Send a Memo”

There are few things that test the fibre of one’s soul like an Ontario spring road. The ice melts, the frost heaves, and suddenly what was once a perfectly respectable street has become a moonscape of asphalt craters large enough to baptize a toddler in. And yet, into these rutted thoroughfares we go—bump, rattle, bumpContinue reading “Preaching with Potholes: Sermons for Imperfect Roads”

There’s a moment, usually somewhere between the second cup of coffee and the first squirrel sighting, when the morning walk becomes something more than exercise. It sneaks up quietly, disguised as routine — the same stretch of cracked pavement, the same grumbling garbage truck, the same faint smell of toast drifting from a neighbour’s kitchen.Continue reading “The Sacrament of the Sidewalk Reflections on how ordinary walks reveal holy ground underfoot”