I grew up in a small, rural village (Ilderton) in southwestern Ontario. My parents were hardworking people who instilled in me a strong sense of right and wrong but were not church goers. They did, however, like the local Anglican priest, Gerry Johnson, who visited everybody in the community, whether they went to church or not. He would drop in at least once a month. He did not push religion but connected with my parents on a personal level and was always there to provide comfort and support when needed. He remains, for me, a model priest.
When my grandmother expressed concern that none of her grandsons had been baptized, my parents asked what we thought about the idea. After some reflection, at the age of about seven I was baptized one Sunday afternoon in Grace Anglican Church.
By my early teens, I stopped attending church. It was on our annual family vacation, while sitting around a campfire and gazing at the sky in wonder, that I really knew there was a reality greater than myself. For as long as I can remember, I have been able to find God in nature and have always made it a priority to seek it out whenever life gets too busy or challenging.
On a grey November day in my second year at Huron College, I wandered into the college chapel. It was All Saints Day, a service was in progress, and I decided to stay. I immediately felt embraced by the warm surroundings of the chapel, uplifted by the glorious music and taken in by engaging preaching that challenged me to think rather than telling me what to think. When the celebrant elevated the host during the eucharist, the sun came out and shone through the stained glass, forming a rainbow in the cloud of incense that hung over the altar. I knew at once that I had found a spiritual home.
I began to attend a city church (St. John the Evangelist) with a group of friends from Huron and started confirmation classes. As an introvert, I had a perhaps overly romantic view of the medieval monk hunched over his manuscripts in the library and separated from the world. As it happened, the call to join a religious order conflicted with my deepening relationship with my future wife, Margaret Anne. We married at the end of our undergraduate studies and together we went off to complete master’s degrees in history at Queen’s University in Kingston, where we became active members of the Cathedral parish.
We were at Queen’s for only a year, before we left for Toronto where I started a PhD at York University on the Loyalist tradition, and Margaret Anne a master’s in museum studies at the University of Toronto. We joined St Thomas’s Church, Huron Street where I served as synod youth delegate, parish archivist, member of the outreach committee and parish lay representative on deanery council. From time to time, individuals would ask me if I had considered ordination—which I had not. I did, however, join the Education for Ministry group at St Thomas’s and threw myself into biblical study and the practice of theological reflection. The experience impressed upon me the importance of equipping lay persons to live out their baptismal ministry and resulted in a 25-year association with EfM as a mentor and trainer.
Following the completion of my doctoral degree, I was awarded fellowships at the University of British Columbia and the University of Calgary. Eventually, I became one of the founding faculty members of St. Mary’s University, a small liberal arts college rooted in the charism of the Second Vatican Council. I had always dreamed of being a faculty member at a small, student focused institution committed to social justice and the reconciliation of faith and reason.
Wherever we lived, I was active in the church at both the parish and diocesan level. Whenever I felt God tapping on my shoulder and calling me to something more, I tried my best to ignore it. One day, however, the tapping became too persistent, and I decided to test it once and for all. I met with Archbishop Curtis, filled out the necessary documents, wrote the required essays and before I knew it, I was ordained to the diaconate and a few months later the priesthood. I articulated a bi-vocational call as both a scholar and a priest and did not expect to earn a livelihood from full-time ministry.
Following ordination, I joined the clergy team at St. Paul’s, Calgary where I happily served for nearly twenty years. I would occasionally be assigned to another parish. One of these, St. Edmund’s, was an inner-city parish unable to afford a priest but which nonetheless served its community by running a food and clothing bank. My time there impressed upon me just how much good, committed Christians can accomplish even when resources are limited.
When the incumbent at St. Paul’s went on long-term disability in the spring of 2023, I was invited by the parish council to serve full time on an interim basis; I was on a year-long sabbatical from my university position at the time. I found the experience both spiritually and professionally uplifting and began to feel a longing to enter into full-time parish ministry. After several months of discernment, I decided to test my sense of call and began to apply for positions. Much to my surprise, I was invited to interviews and offered placements. And so here I am, blessed to serve the parishes of St. John’s, Duncan and St. Michael’s, Chemainus.
