Dear Clergy and People of our Diocese,

Our journeys in faith often bring us to a place where we are faced with a decision to relinquish our own hopes, desires, and plans because God is calling us to something else. This is the way of Christ. This happens frequently in small ways, as we make day to day choices about how we will speak and act toward others, or how we will use our money or skills. Occasionally this happens in big ways, where we become aware that God is calling us far beyond ourselves, to serve God in a new way.

One of my favourite “call” stories in the Bible is Moses and the burning bush. Poor Moses keeps responding to God’s persistence and accommodations by saying “BUT” and offering more excuses—until God finally had enough and compelled Moses to accept. Moses’ personal life was forever changed as he accepted the call to lead God’s people.

The call for me to allow my name to stand for the office of Primate of the Anglican Church of Canada became increasingly strong over the last several months. Like Moses, I kept pushing it away, reasoning that my commitment to our diocese and any number of heartfelt concerns were far more important than such a monumental disruption. In the end, during the Eucharist before the election on Thursday, resisting became too great, and I accepted, deep in my heart, that I needed to relinquish and entrust my life to God, and allow the General Synod, guided by the Holy Spirit, to decide. When the call for additional names came from the floor of Synod, I consented to let my name go forward, and so I became the Primate-elect of the Anglican Church of Canada.

I write to help you understand what has happened and to assure you that there will be a measured and orderly transition over the next several months. I have complete confidence in our diocesan church: we have excellent staff and lay and clergy leaders, and we have done fine work to guide change and place our diocese in a good place as we face the future. All shall be well.

In due course, more details about the transition will be shared. For now, I ask for your prayers, courage, and trust as we, together, accept and faithfully respond to all the implications of God’s call.

With kindest blessings,

The Right Reverend Shane A.D. Parker

Bishop of Ottawa

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Since those early days of my episcopate, we have, as bishop, people and clergy, guided change to give new shape and direction to our Diocese—with clearly expressed priorities focused on helping our parish ministries and community ministries thrive. We have agreed to refresh and renew our priorities using a triennial cycle managed by Diocesan Council and to establish corresponding triennial budgets to achieve the results God has called us to seek.

In this, the second year of our 2024-2026 triennium, we will evaluate the work we are doing to achieve our current priorities and revise our approach as required. In the third year of this triennium, we will work collaboratively to frame our priorities and budget for the next triennium (2027-2029).

A key component our current priorities is to develop and deploy our central financial resources in order to leave more money in our parishes, while increasing practical supports from Ascension House for both arms of our diocesan church: our parish ministries and our community ministries.

Importantly, our current priorities also involve actively convening and collecting the wide range of talents and knowledge held by the clergy and people of our diocese into our Learning Commons. The Learning Commons will provide training, tools, and resources to develop the eight essential parts of a parish’s life and ministry: worship; spiritual growth; community; pastoral care; contextual mission; leadership & governance; financial stewardship & management; and property management & maintenance. Each part is important because all eight work together to help a parish thrive. At Synod in October, we will see how the Learning Commons has been substantially developed to serve us.

As I reflect back on the last five years of serving as your bishop, I do so with an abiding sense of thanksgiving. When I was preparing for my consecration, I made myself the wooden crozier I carry on all parish visits. I wrote earlier about how the parts of the crozier came from several different places.

The main staff was cut in 1978 on the Carp Ridge, between the villages of Dunrobin and Carp. My brother Barry and I were hired to build a cedar log cabin, and a number of young ironwood trees on the site had to be cleared—and one of them became my walking staff. Barry and I lived in tents at the cabin site for many weeks, and the staff remained with me as a memento of those days.

The crook is made from the limb of a cherry tree felled by a beaver near Sawmill Creek by Brookfield Road in Ottawa, a familiar place for my brothers and me. The sections of threaded steel tubing are from what my brothers and I call “the mall” (known to everyone else as the curb on garbage night).

I called the crozier “Brother Thankful” because the parts of it are strongly associated with my brothers, and because I feel profoundly thankful to God for calling me to a ministry which has allowed me to offer all that I am, and all that I have learned, to serving with each of you as we faithfully guide change and make our beloved Diocese thrive.

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The Gospel of Luke tells us that Jesus ascended from the top of the Mount of Olives near Jerusalem. At some time during the 4th century, a church was built on the site where people believed the event took place. That church was destroyed early in the 7th century and replaced in 1157 by a small Crusader church—which was attacked and abandoned 30 years later and fell into ruins (the Land of the Holy One continues to see this cycle of destruction: please consider a gift through Alongside Hope to rebuild our partner’s Al-Ahli Arab Hospital in Gaza).

In the 1870s, a Carmelite convent was built on the site, and, eventually, a new building was constructed using the old stones and footprint of the 4th century church. It became known as the Church of the Pater Noster (the Lord’s Prayer). No longer the place where the Ascension is remembered (another church now lays claim to that), it is a place where pilgrims commemorate the teachings of Jesus, especially concerning prayer.

The Lord’s Prayer, the way Jesus taught us to pray, speaks to the heart of Christian prayer. It has two basic parts: three petitions glorify God, and three others concern human needs (for sustenance, for forgiveness and for help in times of trial). An integral part of the prayer is an acknowledgment of the primacy of God’s will: “thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” The Lord’s Prayer helps us see our particular concerns in the context of the expansive, vibrant sweep of our Creator’s loving purpose for all creation.

Some Christians believe that God provides material wealth, grants favours, and meets very specific requests if you believe the right things, pray for the right things, and act in the right ways. This is not what Jesus taught! Most of us will find that solid faith doesn’t necessarily lead to economic gain, good health and a life of ease. Jesus taught that God is present to each person, regardless of material or physical well-being, and that following God has absolutely nothing to do with self-aggrandizement.

Prayer is about uniting your soul with God. We believe that the Holy Spirit enables us to be drawn into the eternal prayer of Jesus, the exalted Son, to God, the Creator of Creation. Praying is about freely sharing all the hopes, fears, cares, concerns, and contradictions of your life with God who loves you no matter what. Praying is about receiving love and forgiveness and strength to live in this world in a manner that is true to God.

In the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus, God has shown us that nothing can separate us from the love of God. We are loved whether we win or lose, pass or fail—loved more than we love ourselves and loved more than anyone else can love us. Uniting yourself to God’s strong love as you pray makes you a better person and being a better person means being freer to love and serve other people—as Jesus also taught us to do. 

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About 10 years ago, I plotted out a hike in the southern range of the Maumturks. As you can see in the contour map accompanying this column, my route covered a “flat” distance of about 10 kilometres, travelling from east to west. I arranged for someone to drive me from the end point, where my car would await me, to the start point at the base of Corcogemore, which rose sharply from sea level to 609 metres. Not exactly a light warm-up, but it was exhilarating to reach the summit, with a 360-degree view of the region.

The way I chose relied on travelling through a series of peaks on the “saddles” that joined them—zigzagging my way through the range without having to go back down to sea level. And so, from the summit of Corcogemore, I hiked northwest and then southeast on a saddle up toward the first peak of Mullach Glas at 622 metres.

The mountains of Connemara are in close proximity to the sea, and in a single day it is possible to unexpectedly find yourself in clear skies, sheeting rain, blasting wind, or fog: very heavy fog. As I made my way along the generous summit of Mullach Glas, a thick fog suddenly started to roll in—as you can see in the second photo.

It became impossible to move safely. I had only a metre of visibility in any direction and my compass was almost useless. I tried to read the ground immediately beneath me as I moved northwest toward what I hoped was a narrow saddle with steep, craggy sides that would lead to the 630-metre east peak of mighty Binn Mhor. When I suddenly found myself on the precipice of a jagged crag, I realized I had lost all sense of location, direction, and perspective. I had to wait it out, conscious that it might be several hours or even overnight before it was safe to move.

After some attempts at moving gingerly to see if I could find the top of the saddle, only to feel the gawping edges of more crags, something remarkable happened. Suddenly, there was a gap in the dense fog that opened up like a cathedral—showing how off track I was and revealing the saddle that would take me over and up to the relative safety of Binn Morh’s east peak and the plateau that would lead to its central, 661-metre summit. I paid attention, saw where I needed to go, and moved forward with determination.

I share this story because it speaks to paying attention to moments where God unexpectedly opens up the fog in human existence to show us all what we need to know and what we need to do. The resurrection of Jesus is such a moment.

On the Sunday of the Resurrection, we celebrate the wonderful mystery of God casting aside the boundaries of time and space, causing us to see the powerful love that fills human hearts with meaning, purpose, and indestructible hope. The Resurrection of Jesus is God telling us to pay attention to what he taught if we want to find the way to walk closely with God—and actually feel close to God.

The Christian tradition affirms that God is uniquely revealed in Jesus Christ. In other words, if you want to know what God is all about, look to Jesus and you will find the answer.

Christianity holds the belief that God, the transcendent and eternal Creator of all things, visited time and space in the person of Jesus to show for all time that God is with us and that God is love.

Through Jesus, God tells all creation that nothing can be separated from God’s redeeming love, and that we will find salvation—the discovery of who we truly are and what we are called to do—when we accept and share God’s love. God, in Jesus, shows all human beings that those who entrust their lives to God can become radically free to give sacrificially to this world—to live as spiritually strong people who, with humility and confidence, seek to serve others and to challenge anything that injures, corrupts, or destroys the integrity of all that God has made to be good and just.

Christians believe that the way to God is the way of Jesus; wise Christians know that the way to God is not bound by simplistic verbal formulas, notions of prosperity, and national or cultural affiliations. If you pay attention to Jesus, you will see that the way to God is found in living your life with kindness, courage, gentleness, justice, faithfulness, compassion, mercy, self-control, generosity, goodness, prayerfulness, forgiveness, patience, trustworthiness, peace, hope, and, above all, love.

The fog of human life was opened up for an abundant moment when God raised Jesus from the dead, vividly confirming that all he taught us is trustworthy—showing us where we need to go to walk closely with God, to feel close to God. Go there with all the determination you can muster and safely find your way home.

PHOTOS: CONTRIBUTED

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There are no official points of interest in this part of the Gatineau Park and, until recently, no marked trails. The forest is bordered by three roads, giving it an elongated triangular shape. The roadways have no places to park, serving mostly to get people to other destinations—such that the forest has only a few human beings in it at a time.

Wildlife sightings are common, and I have frequently encountered evidence of deer, porcupine, bear, fisher, weasel, rabbit, and other small rodents—including flying squirrels. There are also many birds, big and small, hunters and hunted, and lots of woodpeckers—especially the large and noisy Pileated Woodpecker. After a snowfall, I enjoy following the trails left in the snow by forest creatures, just to see where they lead.

There are steep cliffs and a winding ridge that reaches up 250 metres along the eastern section of the forest, and it takes some work to get to the top of it. The ridge winds its way southward, broken by a creek valley before it reaches the southern point of the triangle. When the temperatures are low and the wind comes from the east, this unprotected ridge can get very cold, and snow can form into deep drifts and crevasses.

To the northwest, there are a few smaller hills and valleys, interspersed by brooks, springs, ponds, and the occasional craggy cliff. Over the years, beavers have modified this part of the forest, and I have come to appreciate marking time by witnessing the life cycle of these lodges and ponds.

There is a substantial pond in the central part of the forest, nestled between the tall hills and winding ridge to the east, and the round, undulating hills to the north and west. The pond flows eastward over a robust beaver dam and forms into a brook, twisting its way through a marshy area before trickling downward and mysteriously disappearing into a subterranean passageway. Steep drops and crags make it difficult to trace its pathway from there, making the portal where the water disappears seem kind of mystical—the kind of place that ought to be named after a Celtic saint.

To the west of this large pond is a tall, graceful, white pine, which stands alone, keeping watch over the sanctuary of the forest. Every time I return, I visit this old friend, who has silently listened to the cares of my heart over the years. I call it the Vigil Tree.

The Vigil Tree seems to know that sometimes the prayers of our hearts cannot be put into words. Some things feel too big, or complicated, or painful to express in prayer. Sometimes there is nothing to say. The Vigil Tree seems to embody the words of Saint Paul, who taught that when we cannot pray or cannot find the words to pray, the Holy Spirit prays for us, interceding for us “with sighs too deep for words.”

Sometimes it is enough to go to a place that is familiar and safe, be it a forest, a church, a chair, or a window, and open your heart to God, wordlessly. And God, who searches your heart, will hear the prayer of the Spirit within you.

 Editor’s note:  A highlight from our archives, reprinted from the January 2023 issue of Crosstalk. Bishop Shane Parker’s regular column will return in our next issue.

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The Anglican tradition contains a way of marking time which is somewhere between the natural seasons and hours of the clock. Observing the cycle of the Church’s Year (often called the liturgical year) is a profoundly reassuring way to mark time. From the first Sunday of Advent to Christ the King Sunday, the Church Year holds seasons and days that draw us to the very heart of our faith in Christ, inviting us to recall and celebrate all that God revealed and promised to us through the Incarnation, Crucifixion, Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus, and the giving of the Holy Spirit.

I strongly encourage clergy and parishes to pay careful attention to shaping the liturgy for each part of the Church Year, so the Sundays and Holy Days within each season are clearly distinguished—creating an annual cycle that becomes as familiar and reassuring as the seasons of nature. Seasonal liturgical notes, prepared by the Bishop’s Liturgical Advisory Panel, have been authorized to assist parish clergy and worship planners by providing a blend of directives, suggested guidelines, and encouragement to exercise appropriate creativity as we observe the Church Year as a diocesan church. The notes may be found in the “For Parishes” section of our diocesan website.

In December, our Diocesan Council approved the adoption of a different kind of cycle—a strategic triennial cycle designed to ensure that we remain attentive and responsive to what God is calling us to do as we move through the temporal tasks of planning and budgeting. Some time ago, we decided to approve a new budget every three years, and we saw this as practical and helpful. Moving forward, we will locate the setting of our budget within a clearly defined and strategic triennial cycle, as shown in the graphic accompanying this column.

In recent years, we have learned how to listen well to one another and to the Holy Spirit as we discern the mind of Christ and build consensus around what we are called to do. This is the starting point for each new triennium. From there, our triennial cycle will involve working to achieve agreed-to results, evaluating our efforts, discerning and agreeing to new priorities, and budgeting to achieve new results in the next triennium. I look forward to working with Diocesan Council to fully implement our new triennial cycle.

As we move into the second year of the current 2024-2026 triennium, focused on our agreed-upon priorities, our Learning Commons will come into its full strength—offering training, learning opportunities, modules, resources, and networks to help us have healthy, thriving parishes that are well-equipped to serve. I pray that each parish will actively embrace and participate in the offerings of the Learning Commons as we seek to move faithfully through both the eternal seasons of our Church Year and the practical segments of our new triennial cycle.

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The College is an integral part of the ministry of the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem. It is nestled within the bustling St. George’s Cathedral Close, alongside the diocesan Cathedral, guest house, administrative offices and episcopal residence—and beside St. George’s School for children from kindergarten age to high school.

I first took a course at St George’s College Jerusalem in 2004—my first visit to Israel and Palestine. That was also when I met Archbishop Hosam Naoum, who was then the Rector of the Church of the Good Shepherd in Nablus on the West Bank. I quickly discovered that the College provides a unique gateway to the Land of the Holy One and those who live there.

The College’s staff offer skilled guidance and information to enable pilgrims to see, feel, and understand the biblical and contemporary richness of the land and the Christians, Jews, and Muslims who live there. The College is wholly committed to building awareness and reconciliation through pilgrimage, education, and dialogue.

The College normally draws dozens of pilgrims from across the Anglican Communion to the Land of the Holy One each year, and many local Christians—a tiny and threatened minority—provide services and goods to pilgrims. Everyone benefits when pilgrims are on the land.

The warfare that has intensified in the Middle East since October 2023 has had a devastating impact on the ministry of the Diocese of Jerusalem. Archbishop Hosam Naoum has said “my diocese is bleeding at this time” and he has appealed to Anglicans from around the world to offer prayers and practical support.

Violence and uncertainty have created a major crisis for St. George’s College. While the College has strived to adapt with creativity and resilience, producing videos for virtual pilgrimages, developing curricula, and maintaining the facility, the situation is dire for the staff and their families.

The $2 million annual budget of the College is primarily supported through earned revenue from pilgrims’ fees, gift shop sales, and other lodging fees. This revenue stream has been totally disrupted. It is highly unlikely that pilgrimages will resume in 2025, and there are insufficient funds to provide regular salaries for the College’s staff and essential operations.  While many of the Diocese of Jerusalem’s health and educational institutions have regular streams of revenue from donor networks, the College does not.

The North American Committee for St. George’s College Jerusalem provided some emergency funding in 2024, and is now appealing to all Anglicans and friends of the College to help provide essential support in 2025. I have been asked, as a member of the Committee, to chair a fundraising drive called Let Light Shine: The Canadian Campaign for St. George’s College Jerusalem.

The campaign will run until April 2025, and the objective is to raise $250,000 from Canadians who care about our sisters and brothers in the Diocese of Jerusalem. This amount will cover the now-reduced salaries of remaining staff at St. George’s College in 2025.

This campaign is very much part of our Diocese of Ottawa’s long partnership with the Diocese of Jerusalem. I maintain close contact with Archbishop Hosam and with the College’s Dean, the Very Reverend Canon Richard Sewell, who spoke at our Synod in 2023. They are deeply dedicated and committed to the College as a vital ministry of their diocese. Please join me in solidarity with them to help St. George’s College Jerusalem in its time of need.

We are asking all our friends around the world to come together to help St. George’s College and to walk with us during these dark times of war and distress. We ask you to be companions on the way so that we may continue to work and serve Christ in the ministry of pilgrimage and love and light. We thank all our friends and partners who have come through the doors of St. George’s College and for those who will come in the future. We ask you to join hands with us and to be so generous so that we can continue to celebrate St. George’s College as a beacon of life and love in Jerusalem and from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth.

The Most Reverend Hosam Naoum, Archbishop of Jerusalem and The Middle East

Learn more www.StGeorgesCollegeJerusalemNAC.org/canada

Donate now: www.CanadaHelps.org/en/dn/124044

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In my charge to Synod last year, I spoke of how Henry Chadwick, a prolific church historian, described the church as a stained-glass window—reflecting through its diverse panes the beauty of God’s grace, love, peace, hope, reconciliation, and justice. And like stained-glass, which on its own cannot withstand the assaults of the elements, the church needs to be held by the oak and iron of good order and discipline. Professor Chadwick realized the structures and operations of the Church—being well-run and properly resourced—enable cohesion amongst its members and frees them to focus on serving others.

Between 2020 and 2023, you, the laity and clergy of our diocesan church, joined me in a journey of honestly assessing where we were at, and of carefully and collaboratively discerning what God was calling us to do. We worked hard together to listen, respond, discern, shape, revise, and propose what we were being called to do. We heard that our clergy and lay leaders are motivated to work together more, reach more people, enrich their discipleship, and to clarify and support shared roles. We drafted three action-oriented proposals designed to strengthen and nurture parish ministry, and to find a better way to engage with the wider community.

We gave overwhelming support to those proposals. We said we were ready to step away from being changed to guiding change, so we can share the Gospel of Christ’s love and healing power from a place of strength and hope. We were ready to consolidate our overall parish ministry structure and the operations which support it in order to have well-resourced churches. We want lay leaders across our diocese to be well-supported and well-equipped to share in robust parish ministries. We want to learn how to share the love of God in an age where many are wary of religion. We said we want to change and thrive. We are seeking to sing a new song to the Lord.

Sing a new song to the Lord. Psalm 98.1

2

Language is important, and the words we use to describe ourselves at this time matter very much.

It is important to use affirming words like: we belong to Christ; we are in communion with one another, deeply and inextricably; we are strong together; and we can build our capacity to serve those who seek God’s love in healthy communities of faith and those who cry out for justice, compassion, shelter, and respect.

And, to repeat what I have said before, it is heartening to say we are a diocesan church, a body with two arms: parish ministries and community ministries. It is unifying to say: our diocese, not the diocese; our parishes, not the parishes; our community ministries, not the community ministries; Ascension House, not the Synod Office; our clergy, our people, our staff, our bishop, our central resources. It is empowering to say we, us, and ours. Words matter.

We need to adopt new words to speak of how we move through the temporal tasks of planning and budgeting. Some time ago, we decided to approve a new budget every three years, and saw this as practical and helpful. Now, we need to locate the setting of our budget within a more clearly defined and strategic triennial cycle.

We have learned how to listen well to one another and to the Holy Spirit as we discern the mind of Christ and build consensus around what we are called to do. This is the starting point for each new triennium. From there, speaking broadly, our triennial cycle will involve working to achieve agreed-to results, evaluating our efforts, discerning and agreeing to new priorities, and budgeting to achieve new results in the next triennium. I look forward to working with our Diocesan Council to develop and enable each part of our triennial cycle.

3

We are currently in year one of a triennium that will conclude at the end of 2026, and we are focused on achieving 6 Results that reflect our careful work of discernment and the actions and budget we affirmed last year.

Result 1 involves focussing on developing our central resources so we are less reliant on parish revenues to fund our shared operations and staffing. This is intended to leave more money in parishes. Just as every one of our parishes must seek to engage in effective financial stewardship and develop three streams of revenue from offerings, property, and investments, we, as a diocesan church, must do the same.

Result 2 involves providing increased assistance and support to parish leaders from the directors and staff of Ascension House, who offer expertise in communications and stewardship development, financial and legal matters, liturgy, human resources, governance, and property and asset management.

Result 3 involves providing guidance to parishes facing major change and promoting collaboration and innovation across our diocese. I am directly involved in achieving this result, and continue to work with parish leaders to discuss options and support their decisions concerning major change. A panel is in place to assist with other initiatives requiring innovation and collaboration. ADOyouth is a recent example of taking a collaborative approach to reaching and connecting young people across our parishes and deaneries.

Results 4, 5, and 6 are being addressed by our new Learning Commons, which is managed by the Education Committee of Diocesan Council. In addition, Ascension House staff have worked with others to bring much greater clarity to canons and by-laws concerning the governance of parishes.

The Learning Commons will achieve results through four distinct areas of activity: a) Ascension House will provide training and learning opportunities to help understand how parishes can operate more effectively; b) our Parish Development Subcommittee will prepare modules and sessions to provide practical instruction on how to have healthier congregations; c) our Resource Hub Coordinator is establishing hubs and knowledge networks to gather and share resources and expertise; and d) our Contextual Mission Subcommittee will help us learn how to engage with the world and establish new worshipping communities.

We must continue to be disciplined and focussed, and encourage everyone to engage in the Learning Commons activities. God has shown us what we need to do to guide change and thrive, and we need to do it together.

The Learning Commons is an important new structure that will remain in place long after this current triennium, as we must always ensure that successive generations of clergy and lay leaders learn how to do the work of parish ministry—a ministry that provides spiritual nurture, common worship, meaningful social engagement, pastoral care, and hope to hundreds of people every week of the year.

This triennium will be significant in the life of our diocesan church as we seek to firmly implement all we have carefully discerned and agreed to. As we move from 2025 to 2026, we will evaluate what we have been doing, refine our approach wherever necessary, and faithfully discern new priorities to shape and budget for the next triennium.

4

We commemorate Archbishop Willibrord as we gather on this 7th day of November. Willibrord was a medieval monk at the vanguard of the evangelization of northwestern Europe during the 8th Century. He devoted four decades to preaching the gospel, with the encouragement of his Pope and military support from the Franks.

Willibrord is rightly remembered for bringing Christianity to a large swath of Europe, and he did so with considerable skill, evidenced in the establishment of many monasteries. There are also accounts of him aggressively challenging paganism, including destroying idols and despoiling places deemed to be sacred to pagans, and by killing their sacred cattle for food.

While we can admire the deep and sacrificial faith of Willibrord, it would be unthinkable for us to have his mindset or to use his methods as we seek to engage with the world around us here in eastern Ontario and western Quebec, the ancestral homeland of the Anishinaabe Algonquins. The Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in 2015 laid bare the perils and horrors of aligning the Gospel of Christ with imperial, colonial, and military ambitions.

During this meeting of Synod, we will be given a better sense for the distinction between parish development and contextual mission: if you want people to join your parish community, pay attention to parish development materials and become healthy and attractive to others; if you want your parish community to share in God’s mission to bring the rural areas, villages, towns, and cities of our diocese into the orbit of Christ’s love, pay attention to contextual mission materials—including the time of prayer.

We must always remember that God is already at work in the world, and our task is to participate in God’s work by listening in a new way to the Holy Spirit—because we cannot afford to repeat the colonial mistake of thinking we have the agenda in hand and have to convince others to follow it.

5

We are surrounded these days by some disturbing clouds of polarization, intolerance, geo-political instability, environmental degradation, and socio-economic disparity. We see these clouds in news feeds and on the streets of our diocese. We must never forget that we always have agency, as individual followers of Jesus and as a diocesan church. We always have the option of praying, donating, advocating or acting in ways that are wise and faithful.

As tensions based on toxic blends of religion, ideology, and nationalism mount in other parts of the world, it is important for us to build bridges in our own civic communities. I have recently gathered the interfaith and ecumenical work we have done for years into a new ministry of interreligious relations. This ministry will be ably staffed by two experienced priests of our diocese, who will work with me to build bilateral relationships with other faith groups—and to model for our clergy the importance of getting to know other faith leaders in their areas. We build these relationships from the platform of shared values that serve the common good here in Canada—and standing together against hatred.

On Saturday, we will hear from Archbishop Hosam Naoum in our partner diocese of Jerusalem, who plaintively says his people are bleeding at this time. Please pray, donate and reach out to individuals and agencies who are either struggling or serving to alleviate the effects of obscene violence in the land of the Holy One. PWRDF, UNICEF, Canadian Red Cross, and several other agencies seek to bring relief to those who are suffering. Archbishop Hosam asks us to pray fervently for peace, justice, and reconciliation for all Jews, Muslims, and Christians in the land where Jesus walked.

Our highly respected community ministries continue to respond to need. Belong Ottawa and Centre 105 provide sanctuary and services for people who live precariously; Cornerstone provides shelter and affordable housing for women; the Ottawa Pastoral Counselling Centre provides affordable counselling and psychotherapy; and our Refugee Ministry Office enables the sponsorship of dozens of refugees each year. Our diocesan church remains committed to addressing the need for affordable housing, which is essential in addressing numerous social inequities and human suffering. As promised last year, our Synod will be asked to endorse a new Panel on Housing Justice which will refine our approach to providing affordable housing in this triennium.

6

A short while ago, Martine Dore retired from many years as a beloved member of the staff of Cornerstone Housing for Women. At her retirement party, she shared her conviction that “everyone belongs, everyone matters, everyone deserves a second chance.”

While Martine’s beautiful words aptly describe the work of our five community ministries—each one of them an example of the fruits of contextual mission—they also lift up the heart of our baptismal covenant.

We who are baptized have vowed to seek and serve Christ in all persons, to strive for justice and peace among all people, and to respect the dignity of every human being.  My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples, says the Lord.

Both arms of our diocesan church, our parish ministries and our community ministries, are compelled by our love and worship of God to communicate God’s love for all people through meaningful action.

As we move through this triennium, we will continue to faithfully attend to the oak and iron that holds the beautiful stained-glass of God’s grace, love, peace, hope, reconciliation, and justice. We will strive to achieve the results we have named, evaluating our efforts, and collaboratively discerning new priorities and directions. We will cherish the beauty of Christ that has been entrusted to our diocesan church, and we will seek to share that beauty, with humble confidence and expansive generosity, wherever God is calling us to be.

Amen+

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These two ranges have rich green and blue tones, and are separated by the Inaugh Valley, where, from a road that weaves along its floor, you can look up at their very distinct and imposing peaks, ridges and saddles. By the standards of our western mountains, the Bens and Maumturks are not very high (about 700 metres compared to over 3,500 metres), but they rise sharply from actual sea level.

The pastime of travelling by foot through mountains is misleadingly called “hill walking” in Ireland. Having spent a fair bit of time hiking in the Canadian Rockies, I can say that hill walking in Connemara provides challenges and vistas that are every bit as breathtaking. The only thing missing is the possibility of encountering a bear (sheep require pepper spray only when they are on the menu).

I have been very privileged to travel often to my parents’ homeland and have spent many long solo days in the mountains of Connemara, travelling to each of the highly varied peaks of the Twelve Bens and through most of the often-treacherous ridges of the Maumturks. Their proximity to the sea can make things interesting. In any one day it is possible to find yourself in clear skies, heavy fog, sheeting rain and blasting wind. And to find your feet on grasses, mosses, heather, bracken, shale, peat, stone and solid rock. There are few defined paths (apart from deceptive sheep trails) and you have to be very careful not to find yourself suddenly on the edge of a steep cliff. You need to be fully alert, fully alive.

I enjoy hill walking alone because it is deeply contemplative and utterly real: there is no space between my body and creation; neither is there any space between my spirit and the Creator. Some might call this the “thin place” of Celtic spirituality. For me, this is not something I know from reading but from living through intense life experiences that led me to see that body and spirit are only truly at home in places that are close to creation and close to the Creator.

In this season of late autumn, less daylight, and making ready for winter; this time of watching the cusp of summer sweep into the colours of October and into the still, watchful days of November; creation reminds us that our bodies move through seasons, sweeping through times of ease, fullness, struggle, loss. We are in this way very much a part of creation, and nothing can remove us from that reality, so it is wise to embrace it and to live life as fully as possible.

To feel truly alive, truly at home, listen well to the one who gives you life. Walk closely with the Creator, who is among us, within us, before us, behind us, beneath us, above us—telling us to live and love as Jesus did: with mercy, compassion and peace, bringing hopeful, saving, redeeming, transforming love to all creation, to all creatures.

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