Ministry

On August 27th, the Shining Waters Regional Council of The United Church of Canada reached out to ask whether I would once again supervise the Nobleton/Schomburg pastoral charge. The congregation is in the tender and difficult stages of closing, and they require clergy support throughout this season of transition — a steady pastoral presence to walk with them through the ending of a long and faithful chapter.

On July 23rd, I had the privilege of sitting on the interview panel for our new church secretary — a task of quiet consequence, for the one who tends the office often becomes the first voice a seeking soul will hear. We have been blessed to find someone who carries every gift we were hoping for: the technical fluency to steward our communications, the creative eye for advertising and outreach, and the care to craft bulletins that gather a congregation into worship each Sunday.

On August 6th, I shared lunch with Gail, whose faithful service has long been the steady heartbeat of that office. There was a bittersweetness to the afternoon — we will miss her daily presence deeply — and yet there is grace in the way her story continues: she will remain with us on supply, her wisdom and warmth still close at hand even as a new chapter begins.

On June 25th, I attended our church choir's year-end party — a joyful evening of fellowship, food, and gratitude for a season of music shared together. It was a genuine pleasure to reconnect with so many church members I had not seen in a while, and especially to spend time with our choir director, Craig Garnham, whose gifts and faithful leadership have shaped our musical life together so beautifully.

For the potluck, I built a strawberry tree — fresh, ripe strawberries from Downey's Strawberry Farm arranged on a conical form and tucked with sprigs of mint from the garden. It was a labour of love — and a quiet reminder that beauty and hospitality, offered simply and with care, are themselves a form of ministry.

Ministry, too, is the joyful work of gathering a community together — and few things bring people to the table quite like our Mayfield United Church annual chicken BBQ. It is one of those beloved traditions that draws neighbours, friends, and visitors from across our community and well beyond, all welcomed into one warm and unhurried afternoon of shared food and fellowship.

This year proved to be one of our most successful gatherings since the pandemic — the hall alive with conversation, the serving line stretching with cheerful, apron-clad volunteers, and tables full of good people sharing a simple, generous meal. We were deeply thrilled, and I was so happy to attend and to be there at the door, welcoming each one who came. To greet a coming crowd in the name of the church is its own quiet kind of ministry — and a deeply glad one.