As this is my Christmas column, I have chosen to write on the second most important theologian in the Christian Bible: John. I have chosen John’s Christmas meditation, John 1:1-14. This is the Gospel you will probably hear at your church’s main Christmas Eve service.

John doesn’t use the story of Bethlehem and the manger and the angels that we find in Luke, or the wise men from the east that we find in Matthew. No, John takes us back to the beginning of creation: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1).

The Greek word “logos” that John uses to begin his meditation means so much more than “word,” which is the English translation. To the Hebrew mind, the word of God was equated to wisdom, which was the creative power of God. John is telling us that Jesus was the creator God. Logos was an important word for the Jewish people of the first century.

For the Gentiles, “logos” would have been seen in philosophical terms, describing the design of the universe. It was the divine principle of reason that gave order to the world. Again, they would understand “logos” as the divine name for the creator of the universe. John sets the tone for his Gospel in the first sentence. Jesus was part of the creative force of the universe. “Logos” would have appealed to both the Hebrew and Greek followers in Ephesus.

The spirituality of John’s Gospel is evident from this prologue. John tells us that Jesus was God from the beginning of time. He was sent into the world so that all people could be enlightened through him.  The Christmas Gospel concludes with the beautiful sentence, “And the Word [logos] became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).

This sentence confirms the belief that Jesus was the incarnate Messiah. The Word came into the world as God with us, leading us back to God. There is no doubt that Jesus was indeed the Messiah sent to bring the world into a loving relationship with the Father.

Let me tell you a bit about the writing of this fourth Gospel. It was probably composed by John, who, with his brother James, was among the first disciples called by Jesus. They were part of the inner circle who were with Jesus in all the events of his earthly ministry. John had outlived his contemporaries. Most of the apostles had suffered martyrdom many years before John wrote his Gospel, probably between 85 and 100 CE. John was in Ephesus, where he had migrated to escape persecution in Jerusalem.

This early church community would have been encouraged by John’s Gospel and strengthened by his words during persecution. They knew that this Jesus whom they professed was indeed the incarnate Word of God sent into the world to bring them eternal life.

Amid the busyness of Christmas, please take time to read this prologue of John as you prepare to celebrate the birth of the Christ-child into our world. Meditate on this passage and sense the encouragement John brought to his followers. Try to visualize the early Christian community gathered in someone’s tiny home in Ephesus, finding great comfort in the words of their leader and companion. Please continue to dialogue with the holy words written for you, and have a blessed Christmas.

All things must come to an end! This is true of this column, as this will be my last. I started it on a six-month trial basis in 2008, and it has lasted over eight and a half years. It has been a challenge to write something each month, and the past two months have been extremely difficult due to medical issues. But mostly it has been a great joy to put together this column, and I am amazed at the response I have received around the diocese. You, the readers, have made it worthwhile. I shall miss the research and the monthly demands. Please continue your dialogue with Scripture.

The post John takes us back to beginning appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.

“To be in on an experience where several different groups pulled together and said, ‘This matters to us, let’s make the conversation happen,’ was really encouraging, and I would love to see more of it,” she says.

Ms. Robinson, the director of children’s ministry at Little Trinity in Toronto, was one of about 200 people from several denominations who gathered at Wycliffe College on Nov. 5 for a full day of workshops, networking and worship.

Since 2011, the conference has been held at St. John, York Mills and sponsored by the Centre for Excellence in Christian Education (CECE), a group of lay people and clergy in the diocese who are dedicated to promoting Christian education and formation for children and youth.

This year, the gathering was moved to Wycliffe College and co-sponsored by the CECE, Wycliffe College, the Diocese of Toronto and the Canadian Baptists of Ontario and Quebec. There were 15 workshops to choose from, including home-based discipleship, children’s spirituality, Messy Church, choosing a curriculum, recruiting and retaining volunteers, Godly Play and the role of grandparents in discipleship.

Ms. Robinson, who led a workshop on the challenges of leadership in children’s ministry, said the conference benefitted from having multiple sponsors and being held at the college, which is located at the University of Toronto. “Wycliffe’s ability to broadcast it widely meant that a lot of people heard about it and came,” she says.

Among those in attendance were Anglicans, Catholics, Baptists, Pentecostals, Presbyterians and members of the Christian Missionary Alliance. “It was really great to sit in a room with people of different denominations and have a constructive conversation around this particular ministry,” she says.

The wide variety of workshops, led by people with on-the-ground experience, was another big draw, she adds. “The fact that you knew if you showed up you were going to receive a good number of takeaways for your work – that was a big motivator. The range of people they managed to recruit to come teach was fantastic.”

In addition to the camaraderie, the conference also provided a wealth of resources in one place. “I find one of the challenges of children’s ministry is that there isn’t really a central clearing house with enough content to support a vibrant children’s ministry,” says Ms. Robinson. “This was an experience where there was beginning to be a centralized conversation around it, and that it was Canadian and somewhat local.”

She adds: “I was really encouraged to see institutions working together around a common valuing of children’s ministry, and a sense that the work we do in discipling children is crucial and critical to the health of the church.”

For more information about the conference, visit www.wycliffecollege.ca/tcmc/about-conference.

The post Conference on children’s ministry going strong appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.

Barry was ordained a minister of the United Church of Canada and left Toronto 40 years ago. I lost track of him until a couple of years ago. Now, all these years later, I encounter him again in a book with a 25-page bibliography that is a virtual seminary of all those seminal books, and many more, introducing his readers to a vast company of theological thinkers and writers. Called Hopeful Realism in Urban Ministry: Critical Explorations and Constructive Affirmations of Hoping Justice Prayerfully, the book is based largely on a doctoral thesis but augmented by more recent reading and reflection.

Barry has been the staff person for 27 years at the Longhouse Council of Native Ministry in Vancouver’s east end. He has hung in “for the long haul,” a phrase he uses many times throughout his book. As neighbouring Baptist minister and long-time friend Tim Dickau says in the foreword, “You can trust him. And you can trust that his vision for ministry will give you courage to confront what is in front of you, hope to embrace God’s renewed future… ready to go back to work in the place and parish God has called you with a realistic, prayerful hope.”

Always a vociferous reader and student of theology, especially the theology of justice-making, Barry has created a helpful resource for anyone willing to make the commitment to urban ministry and wanting to know what’s needed to stay in it “over the long haul.”

He asks, “What, pray tell, does a faithful urban ministry require if not a triadic relationship of prayer, justice and hope?” The book tackles this triad from every angle: hope and justice without prayer; prayer and hope without justice; justice and prayer without hope.

He begins with realism and then delves deeply in separate chapters into the lives and writings of Jurgen Moltman on hope, Rienhold Neibur on justice and Thomas Merton on contemplative prayer, reflecting along the way with help from the great cloud of writers, thinkers and practitioners from his lifetime of reading and practising on a wide range of topics: the need for realism, the reality of sin, passion leading to compassion, charity vs. justice, resilience, burnout,  the meaning of faith, the necessity for networking, mutual support and accountability; even, at the end, a powerful emphasis on the imperative, or at least the possibility, of a vowed life commitment. Barry presents both a profound analysis and a helpful prescription for a life in urban ministry.

He includes a chapter on his own Longhouse Ministry, where there is a constant struggle to transform charity – the imperative to meet immediate need – into advocacy for justice and social change, despite cuts in funding. Here Barry stresses the critical importance of participation in three city-wide efforts – education, advocacy and community organizing – and dedicates a section to each. That, he says, is what provides for mutual correction, support and accountability in the long-term work of “justice-making and justice-keeping.”

There is also a helpful exegesis of Rienhold Neibur’s original serenity prayer, which has been foundational in Barry’s life: “God grant us the grace to accept with serenity the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things that ought to be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.”

Anyone about to embark on a justice-seeking vocation in urban ministry, or anyone already engaged in ministry in the city, wanting to learn “what makes and keeps an urban ministry pastorally and prophetically faithful for the long hauls” and willing to learn from a brother who has been faithfully “showing up” for a long lifetime with steadfastness, dedication and determination, should read this book.

It isn’t easy reading. But it is seminal.

To order Hopeful Realism by Barry K. Morris, visit www.wipfandstock.com. The book costs $19.20 from the publisher or $24 and up from other retailers.

The post Veteran of urban ministry passes on wisdom appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.

The conversation echoed themes from Gently to Nagasaki, Ms. Kogawa’s recently released memoir, in which she explores both her family’s private trauma and the collective historical trauma of Japanese-Canadians. The Toronto launch of Gently to Nagasaki was held on Nov. 10 at Holy Trinity, Trinity Square. Ms. Kogawa, a member of Holy Trinity, was joined on stage by Mary Jo Leddy, and both authors spoke about their experiences of forgiveness and reconciliation in personal and cultural relationships.

Fans of Ms. Kogawa’s work also had the opportunity to experience her writing musically this fall. Tapestry Opera, a contemporary opera company, began its season with the Toronto premiere of Naomi’s Road. An adaptation of Ms. Kogawa’s novel Obasan, Naomi’s Road tells the story of a young Japanese-Canadian girl sent to an internment camp during the Second World War. Performances were held from Nov. 16-20 at St. David, Donlands, home of the St. Andrew, Japanese Anglican congregation.

Ms. Kowaga’s books, including Gently to Nagasaki and Obasan, are available from major booksellers in Canada.

The post Memoir, opera explore trauma, healing appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.

Fortunately for Ms. McIntosh-Siung, the Church of the Nativity, Malvern, located in the northeast corner of Toronto, gave her a $300 scholarship to help buy the books. That was in 1996, when Ms. McIntosh-Siung was a teenager at the church. Now she is a senior communications advisor with the City of Mississauga.

“Every little bit did count,” she recalls. “To me, it was another indication that I was moving in the right direction and if I put my mind to it, help would come in some way – and it did with the Nativity church scholarship.”

Ms. McIntosh-Siung was back at the Church of the Nativity on Oct. 29 as it celebrated the 20^th anniversary of its scholarship program, which has helped more than 110 local teens pursue post-secondary education, either at university, college or in the trades.

Each year, the church gives out $300 “book awards” or $1,000 scholarships to local students for their post-secondary education. This year, eight scholarships were awarded for a total of $8,000.

Ms. McIntosh-Siung joined a handful of former recipients at the gala, which was held in the church’s parish hall and was attended by about 125 people from the church and surrounding community.

The evening featured keynote addresses by Dr. Sheridan Cyrus, a dentist and one of the benefactors of the program, and Laura Wilson, a lawyer and a board member of the Canadian Association of Black Lawyers. It included music by soloist Kimya Cato Hypolite and the steel pan duet of Kwesi Hypolite and Arienne Johnson.

Seven plaques were given to long-time donors, in appreciation for their support over the years. One of the plaques was given to the Anglican Diocese of Toronto Foundation, which has provided funds since 2003.

The Rev. Pam Prideaux, incumbent of the Church of the Nativity, praised the program’s donors. “The bottom line is that the church, out of its own budget, would never have been able to help so many young people, and we find it amazing that so many people have rallied to the cause,” she says. “I see it as a sign of the kingdom that people are willing to invest in young people from a somewhat underprivileged area year after year after year. And when we see those young people come back and start giving back to the church, either through contributing to scholarships or through volunteering their time, then we know we’ve made a real difference in people’s lives, and that’s what the program is all about.”

Ms. McIntosh-Siung echoed those thoughts, saying that the community’s belief in the promise of its young people was even more important than the money it gave. “They really believe in their youth, which is what you need to do,” she says. “That belief has impacted us more than the $100,000 that they’ve given.”

The post Scholarship program turns 20 appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.

In a powerful keynote address, the Rev. Jeffrey Metcalfe, a priest in the Diocese of Quebec and a doctoral student at Trinity College, Toronto, focused on what the exile discussed in Psalm 137 can mean for people today. The psalmist wrote: “By the rivers of Babylon — there we sat down and there we wept, when we remembered Zion.”

As Mr. Metcalfe noted, Psalm 137 is the song of an oppressed and displaced people who refuse to sing or play their instruments in a strange land. “It’s a song of lament, of resistance and a call for justice,” he said. “We should be uncomfortable with this song, because of its call for justice.”

He urged the conference participants to ask themselves, “How compelling is our faith in a world defined by displacement and exile?” He cited women and children who flee domestic violence, only to be turned away from packed shelters, and people, including children, being held at a nearby refugee detention centre, as examples of those impacted by exile. “What does our faith community have to say to the refugee family who might have to sleep on the streets tonight because there is no more room in the shelters?”

Many congregations have Out of the Cold programs to help feed the hungry, the sick and marginally housed. However, he asked, would our communities welcome those people into their choirs, their pulpits or into their congregations as equal members? “It’s not people we need to invite back to church on Sunday,” he said. “It’s the church we need to invite, back to its pilgrimage to the City of God.”

He noted how hospitality, while not a replacement for justice, is one way we can stand in solidarity with those denied justice. He cited two examples in the Diocese of Toronto where such hospitality is offered. The first, St. Stephen-in-the-Fields, Toronto, stays open all night on Friday nights to provide a Safe Space drop-in program. It is staffed by volunteers who provide snacks and support to anyone needing a place of sanctuary. The second example is the new Seeds of Sanctuary program at St. James Cathedral, in which the Rev. Leigh Kern leads pilgrimages from the cathedral to local shelters and social service agencies as a first step in finding out how the church might work in solidarity with its neighbours. He noted that both of these ministries are based where these parishes are located.

Mr. Metcalfe wrapped up his talk with what he described as an “altar call” to hospitality, by encouraging conference participants to contact him if they’d be willing to offer temporary housing for refugees, working with the Romero House refugee ministry. He noted that anyone with space to offer could help meet this need for shelter in Toronto. This included churches, he added. “Maybe God has been emptying out our churches to prepare us not for closing our doors, but for opening them even wider,” he said. Two people later offered to provide space, while a third will inquire whether a refugee family could stay in her church building.

Conference workshops covered a variety of topics, often with a focus on reaching out to displaced people. A workshop titled “Poverty as a Form of Exile” heard how an innovative ecumenical ministry called The Dale Ministries, based in Toronto’s Parkdale neighbourhood, focuses on building relationships with local residents. The Dale has been called “a church without walls” because it has no building, with ministry taking place in coffee shops and other locations.

“Poverty is often rooted in a poverty of relationship,” said Erinn Oxford, pastor and director of the ministry. “We’re trying to say collectively this is our place, and endeavouring to build community.”  It supports low-income families and people with psychiatric issues, accompanies people to court, intervenes with landlords to support tenants, and helps in other ways. She shared a powerful example of building a relationship with an isolated person called Snakeman who was living in an illegal basement apartment with only four pet snakes for company. They were able to find him a good apartment, which he regards as a castle.

Community support cuts both ways, noted Ms. Oxford, telling a moving tale of how when her family issued an appeal to friends and family for financial support to cover costly medical treatment for her husband, she received a bag containing $78.26 from low-income community residents.

The Rev. Sherman Hesselgrave, incumbent of Holy Trinity, Trinity Square in Toronto, noted how some people criticize charity work unfairly. He responded that charitable efforts, such as a turkey dinner at a church, can represent “an incubation for community” for isolated individuals.

Hospitality for refugees was explored in a workshop led by Jenn McIntyre, director of Romero House, a Christian-based community of welcome for refugees and their families in Toronto which provides housing and companionship. Participants jointly read a booklet about the community’s mission, based on a belief that “as Christians we preach the meaning of the Gospel more with our lives than with our words.” Romero House strives to do that by living alongside refugees and helping them find permanent housing, and supporting them as they adjust to life in a strange land.

A workshop on advocacy led by Elin Goulden and the Rev. Kyn Parker, both of the diocese, faced head-on the comment sometimes voiced by Anglicans that “the church should stay out of politics.” They noted the biblical call for justice. Participants reflected on three Bible passages calling for justice: Proverbs 31:8-9; Isaiah 1:16-17; and Micah 6:8. They were reminded that the Anglican Church’s Five Marks of Mission encourage Anglicans “to seek to transform unjust structures of society.” Paul Audley, a member of St Clement, Eglinton, noted that advocacy work remains a challenge in many parishes. “There’s a readiness to do good things, but when you start talking about advocacy, it’s a different matter, and especially when talking about changes at a governmental level. People have in effect sold their votes for tax cuts.”

The post Hospitality & Exile appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.

Ms. Hall was joined onstage by singer Thaanya Aswathaman, 12, a resident of St. James Town and a member of the Reaching Out Through Music program. “Music brings joy and takes me to another world,” she said. “Music is God’s gift.”

Other performers included pianists Patricia Parr, Kathleen Penny, John Sheard and Marjorie Wiens, Colombian clarinetist Felip Jiminez Murillo and singer Yanika Gauthier. The concert was attended by more than 200 people and raised ?????

St. Simon’s has served as Reaching Out’s anchor location for the past nine years. The program provides musical and social opportunities for children who live in St. James Town, one of the most densely-populated and ethnically diverse communities in North America.

“Reaching Out Through Music was conceived in five minutes in a pew at St. Simon’s,“ says John Loosemore, the program’s founding director. The idea came after a memorial service at the church at which Kirkland Adsett, the music director and organist at the time, played and Canadian mezzo-soprano Jean Stilwell sang “Ave Maria.”

“Jean was a friend and Kirk was a stranger to me before the service that day in October of 2007,” recalls Mr. Loosemore. “The three of us were chatting and I said to Kirk that there was a kids’ choir out there in those towers.”

The apartment buildings in nearby St. James Town are home to many young families with children. Many are immigrants for whom English is a second language.

Reaching Out Through Music provides opportunities for the children to perform individually or in choirs. The program offers lessons in piano, guitar, violin, music theory, composing and arranging. Over the past nine years, it has served hundreds of children.

“We’ve been fortunate over the years to have the support of world-renowned musicians of the calibre of Jean Stilwell, Patricia Parr and Meredith Hall,” he says. “Their lives demonstrate the way in which music from an early age can shape lives. Jean literally learned to sing at her mother’s knee, in the choir at Grace Church-on-the-Hill. Patricia’s career as a chamber musician speaks to the power of collaboration and teamwork. Meredith spent a lot of time early in her singing career teaching and mentoring inner-city children.”

Reaching Out Through Music raises money through benefit concerts but relies heavily on the financial support of individuals, corporations and foundations to fund its operations. For more information, visit www.reachingoutthroughmusic.org.

The post Concert benefits young musicians appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.

Companions on an Ancient Path is a year-long discernment program for women ages 22-40 who find themselves uncertain about what is next in their lives. In addition to that, it aims to invite younger generations into the monastic life, with the hope that the values and wisdom we learn continue on even if our journeys lead us somewhere other than a monastery or convent.

I heard about the program in the bulletin at St. Benedict’s Table, the Anglican church I was attending while haphazardly working toward a degree at the Canadian Mennonite University in Winnipeg. It was intuition alone that compelled me to apply, though I did spend a self-allotted two weeks in prayer about it for the purpose of discernment. When, at the end of that time, I was still moved to apply, I figured that was reason enough.

The best thing about the program is the formative learning. I found university to be an excellent environment for a particular type of learning that cultivates a distinct form of knowing. While I am grateful for and love it, I nonetheless began to sense that intellectual knowledge alone in regard to the spiritual life is insufficient. I did not know, until coming to SSJD, that I was aching for tangible ways to act out my spiritual life in ordinary life. I think that doing the disciplines of prayer and chapel, even work and meetings, on a daily basis, whether I feel like it or not, is teaching me something about the Christian journey that reading a book never has.

The worst thing is being accountable to the community in all of my and their humanness – even when I don’t feel like it. It is difficult to unlearn my pattern of separating myself from the group, as well as my habit of doing things only if I feel like it.

I was born in Chatham, Ontario and raised by two lovely humans with my three siblings. I moved around a bit, both with my family and on my own in the fashion of “emerging adulthood” –  returning to my parents’ home every so often in times of transition. When I graduated from high school, I was determined not to pursue a higher education because the lingering shame of the ungainly adolescent in me still associated education with unfortunate social encounters. So, for a year or so I did the “freedom” thing – still inhabiting my parents’ basement.

But God called me to an internship in Vancouver with Urban Promise Ministries and so I went, working at an after-school and summer day-camp program located in an “under-resourced” neighbourhood in Surrey, BC. Soon after I was accepted at the Canadian Mennonite University in Winnipeg. I spent three bewildering years there when God called for a time-out and suggested the Companions program. So I finished the year, spent this past summer as a live-in host at the Foothills Mennonite Guest House in Calgary for my practicum, and then moved to Ontario. My other pursuits have essentially involved an indefatigable strive toward understanding myself and who the heck God is. This has mostly just involved an alternating pattern of reading and lying on the floor. And now here I am – a pseudo-nun and loving it.

My faith journey was pretty one-sided for most of my life, particularly in adolescence and the first years of adulthood. I feel a little silly saying “my darkest time” with no explicit tragedy in the near quarter-century of my existence, but I really was quite close to volitional death several years ago and so I refer to it as such. It was at this time that I began praying again and discovered God to be alarmingly present – suspiciously close, as though He’d been there the whole time. I did not consider the significance of this much then because of depression.

Not long after, I went to Vancouver for the internship. It was there that I was immersed in an intentional Christian community that enveloped me even after the internship, despite all of the rather uncomfortable idiosyncrasies common of the socially inept. I was like a stringy plant after a good rain: I exploded into life and vibrancy under such gentleness and attunement. I refer fondly to this time as my “spiritual infancy” because God was only a thought away. Everything I saw and heard, every person I met, felt to me a love song. I was still a mess of course, and I cannot say it was a great time for those who interacted with me, but I know that season was necessary for me. Like a newborn child, it was really more about receiving than giving.

Naturally, one cannot stay there any more than a child can choose not to grow. After a disastrous betrayal of trust, I spent some time on the isle of Iona, where God basically asked me to make the decision between Him and whatever exists apart from Him, which I had certainly had enough of. So I chose God. What followed was a year of intensive and thorough healing of mind, body and spirit. It continues, but in the context of a convent!

The Companions program has absolutely changed me. I have a proclivity to separate the spiritual from the daily, which in the past meant that I believed it necessary to dedicate large portions of my time to immobile and distinctly “spiritual” activities. So when I came here and the days were structured and endlessly full of activity, I felt very anxious. But I have found that my spirit just needed me to remove my hand from its pulse so it could move freely. It is as though the daily routine and communal worship — coupled with private prayer – actually draw out my spirituality. I notice God in the mundane and only now realize that God has been there the whole time.” How strange. How wondrous!

I am participating in the program to discern what is next, but my loosely-held plan is to return to university with more purpose.

Five years from now, I hope to be praying, hoping, and trusting; seeking justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with my God. I hope that I will be loving God with all of me and loving my neighbour as myself. I hope to be writing, traveling, and listening well. Other than that, I am pretty open.

Currently I am loving the book of Job. Sure, it can be somewhat dismal and long-winded, but something inarticulate within me leans forward, intrigued by the author’s extraordinary trust in God parallel to his demand for a reason. It feels strangely intimate.

The post I notice God in the mundane appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.

Luke’s portrait of the early Christian community is a lofty depiction – the community of believers is always together, praying and eating and evangelizing. They share everything, personal possessions are sold off and the money is given to the disciples to fund their ministry. Everything is held in common. Everyone has each other’s back. Idealized indeed, but not unattainable. Even though the early Christians were particularly zealous in their belief and practice, their values and behaviours are, in fact, achievable today.

Members of the early church were not above experiencing their share of temptations, either. First-century Christians faced many of the same struggles we face today: doubt, lack of commitment, distractions from the world around us, false gods and idols. They were tempted by the same vices we are tempted with.

What I like about the passage in Acts is the depiction of the early church: its simplicity and yet profound demand for commitment. The people had all things in common. They made sure things would be distributed “as anyone had need.” They broke bread together with glad and generous hearts. They spent a lot of time together. And they really got to know each other.

They also loved one another like themselves. They fully committed to the group, as if it were the only thing that mattered. It sounds both awesome and overwhelming, because living in community takes a lot of work. To be part of something so much bigger than yourself and to devote every ounce of your being takes work, unyielding commitment, sacrifice, patience and a generous spirit.

What the early disciples were aiming for was a culture that shunned the “all about me” mentality. They endeavoured to achieve a healthy, transforming faith community. It takes time, prayer, discipline, enthusiasm and money. Even the early Christian communities recognized that ministry required an investment if it were to flourish and nourish those who were its members.

The story of the disciples in Acts is inspiring because it makes me think and believe that a similar experience can be had even today; that same sort of devoted and all-encompassing faith community can be possible. But honestly, it can be discouraging to compare that picture with the reality of some churches today. Many are grappling with declining membership, reduced Sunday school attendance, decaying buildings, few if any ministry opportunities, burned-out volunteers and a lack of hope.

It doesn’t have to be that way. We can lament that our church will never be as committed or spiritual or unified as the ones in Acts were. Or we can recognize that in the brokenness and fragility of humankind, Jesus gives us the tools to persevere in his mission.

Across our church, I see those glimpses of life-sustaining community among this group of imperfect, struggling people. We laugh and cry, break bread, pray together, celebrate together and walk as disciples together. In these holy moments, we experience grace.

What value do you place on the ministry that takes place here? What do you hope for, for you, your family and your children? In this season of Advent, what might God be calling you to give – two per cent, five per cent or perhaps a 10 per cent tithe? That same generosity of heart the early Christians experienced needs to be felt here if we are to grow this church and evangelize this community.

For many of you, this month marks the end of your commitment to the diocesan ministry campaign Our Faith-Our Hope. Month in, month out you have diligently given to support the reimagining of the church of God. Now that the campaign is done, can you recommit? Can you direct 40 per cent of your pledge amount to the parish – the same amount that was returned to the church for local ministry over the last five years – now that your gift is complete?

In the next week or so – perhaps even today – I ask that you put this to prayer. Take five minutes and contemplate the life of the early disciples and their perseverance. Consider their generosity, their unity and their hopes for a fledgling church. Consider the importance of this place in your life and what you bring to it. Pray for yourself, your family, your church, for a pew-mate who is experiencing loss. Pray as you can. Slow down and have a conversation with God, the one who is always ready to listen. May we become more like those earliest Christians, who believed and shared.

The post Finding hope in the early church appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.

The post FaithWorks celebrates special anniversary appeared first on The Toronto Anglican.