First, the generosity. These words from Charles Dickens ring true for me:

I have always thought of Christmas time…as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.

Lately, as I’ve been busy with ministry in my neighbourhood, I’ve noticed how people in the community are opening their hearts freely—from the Salvation Army officers in our stores to the good work that the local churches are doing, including my parish. One thing the Parish of Seaforth is doing is shipping out care packages of food, toys and clothing in large quantities. This is part of a project to support  Mission to Seafarers, a ministry that offers hospitality to those men and women who work on ships and arrive in Halifax, often in need of help.

Inside my church, I’ve heard many sermons about hope, peace, joy, and love, and I see Advent candles being lit. Many people are smiling at the joy and the feeling they get from giving their time and money to those in need. I truly believe that this is something that Christians should strive for: a generosity that is heartfelt, that breaks down the walls of social status and economic wealth.

But what’s this poverty that we’re responding to at Christmas? Today people are poor in many ways. As an ordained minister, and personally as a Christian, I feel it’s my job and call to seek those in need. To make sure they are healthy in mind, body, and soul. Pastoral care—a nurturing of faith through word and sacrament—is something ministers offer to God’s people. Christ believed that such a minister was important. His social justice stance was that of the Beatitudes, from “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” to “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”

At Christmas time we often remember those who Christ calls blessed—the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, and those who are pure in heart. Unfortunately, these needs last beyond the Christmas season, and sometimes we forget about the blessed at other times of the year. People do not just go hungry at Christmas, people are not mournful just when the Christmas tree is lit. As someone who has a strong passion for social justice, and also as a clergyperson, I feel it is my obligation to encourage the gospel the whole year through, to inspire people to live the Christian teaching not just on holidays, but also on those bright summer days.

But as the nights grow darker and the snow falls, I’m aware that Christmas draws nearer. For me, the birth of our Saviour Jesus Christ is something I look forward to. Christ comes as the light of the world and shines through in the darkest corners of our lives. All things are possible through Christ. He can even turn around our poor lives with the generosity of his grace. My prayer this Christmas is that the light shines brightly for those in the dark. My prayer is that Christians will shine and give of themselves this season, and that this would continue all the year through.

There were many times when I had to “gird up my loins” and work hard to get to this point. The journey from undergrad to a master’s degree was challenging, but the time of my life. The endless late nights of paper writing, the “freshmen twenty,” and lots of other social commitments. Now I’m busy with parish ministry and this involves another kind of girding, as I learn how to love and minister to the people in my community. I think all of these things helped prepare me for God’s work, as they have made me very human.

This last Monday I had a “quiet day” to rest from this whirlwind. I decided to travel to a place that helped form me—my alma mater, Mount Allison University. As I was driving to Sackville, I was able to reflect on the state of my life, those who are important to me, and the people who make up the church. As Tupac Shakur raps, I was “staring through my rear-view”—the mirror of my life. Yet at the same time I was looking at the world, and thinking ahead to my future and the church’s future.

It was a good and divine moment, perhaps encouraged by a media interview I did a few weeks earlier, where I was asked by a journalist in Ottawa how I felt about the beloved Anglican Church of Canada. I wondered, where will it be in 2019? How different will it look?

My time in Sackville was deep or “heavy” as Marty McFly likes to say in Back to the Future. I got back in touch with my roots. The Rev. John Perkin—Mount A. chaplain, professor, and my true friend—offered me a space to reflect. I sat in on a first year religious studies New Testament course. And like John would, he had a pop quiz for the class, which I had to do as well! In the afternoon I walked around campus, remembering the good times. I went to Bridge Street Café, a favourite stomping ground of mine. In the afternoon, I took time in the chapel and read some of Thomas à Kempis’s thoughts on the sacraments from The Imitation of Christ. I later went back to John’s home, and in his study we talked late into the night about all things theological and academic.

Now I feel a little more ready for tomorrow night, when I will stand to receive the yoke of Christ from my peers and colleagues. As the bishops and the college of clergy lay their hands on me, I believe that I will be lifted up even further to live out the priestly life. I realize that as I enter this new phase of my ministry I do not do it alone. Our Anglican church is made up of so many gifted people who contribute to its life.

This is where my mind is at, the day before being ordained: I’m thinking of others in the Anglican Church and their faith. I’m thinking of those who are preparing for first communion and confirmation. I’m remembering the amazing youth who are the future of our church, like the young woman in my youth group who proclaimed to me and our bishop that someday she wants to be bishop. I remember the laity who read and preach the word of God. I smile, thinking about the deacons of our church who conduct social justice ministry and serve at Christ’s altar. I reflect on the academics, their study of theology, and the way they help shape the church’s policy. And of course I remember our priests and bishops.

As I prepare for tomorrow, I am thankful for all those who make up the Anglican Church of Canada. It is a blessing. God has spoken to me out of the whirlwind and I move into a new stage of ministry in this beloved church.

I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. Just the night before a former Roman Catholic bishop in the region was accused of a horrible crime. As I picked up the Chronicle Herald the headline read “Bishop Busted.” I received an uncomfortable look from the store clerk as I paid for the paper. When I drove away I felt shocked at the greeting from the man who recognized me as an ordained clergyman.

Earlier, as I got ready for the day, I thought to myself, “I am proud to wear a collar.” Of all days to wear one, this was it: later in the day I had a meeting with one of our bishops and other clergy from our region. When I got ready I couldn’t help but look in the mirror and see myself suited up for the day, in black garb and with the white tab—something I constantly lose, by the way, though part of an ice cream container top works in a pinch.

As soon as I left the house, however, I reflected that I was now in the wider world. For many, I thought, I represent something to this community. For some people, clergy are on a pedestal, but for others, they are like an archaic relic of a long-lost religion, which in a postmodern world has little meaning and is more of a nuisance.

I’m 26 and new to this chapter in my life. For some, seeing me in the collar is a bit of a novelty, something they only see in movies, like pop flick License to Wed, or on the other end of the spectrum, horror films like The Exorcist. Television shows Little Mosque on the Prairie, Seventh Heaven, The Vicar of Dibley and Father Ted are somewhere in between, making light-hearted attempts at capturing the life of clergy.

These attempts don’t really explain what it is like to wear a collar, to be there for a family in need, to face criticism in the media, and to suffer at the hands of those who feel the church is useless.

Some days I wake up wondering about the collar. Is it necessary? Does it draw too much attention to what ordained clergy are called to do? Could the church become more relevant if those in ordained ministries just wore a suit and tie? I’ve thought long and hard about this, and more importantly, I pray about this.

Supposedly the clerical collar was invented in 1827 and spread throughout England with the Oxford Movement. Some believe that the clergy collar itself has no religious meaning, apart from identifying one as being a clergyperson. Tradition says clergy are to wear the collar, but some of course choose to wear it more frequently than others.

For me, the collar represents who I am as a clergyperson and what I am called to.  It can be a symbol of hope for myself and for those who feel it is important. It sometimes starts a conversation, or perhaps silently it encourages people to explore the church on their own.

So in the face of criticism, as the church struggles to find itself in the world, I will continue to wear the collar. I feel called to this form of ministry, so when times are tough for the church, I will still grab that collar—or ice cream container top—and wear it.

Straight outta compline!
I'm a young priest who is fightin' the beast.
The only way to do it's when I'm facin' the east.
I'm from the west coast of PEI, and I wantcha to know that my church is fly.
I teach the Word as a rector, and I wear a biretta.
For I gotta long cope with black rope, and it gives Anglos hope.
My bells and smells are so dope.
I'm not Johnny Cash, but I dress in black.
I got 39 buttons in front of my back.
My collar is visible with a spirit formidable.

Not only was it a fun way to do some Anglican-Lutheran bonding, but it got a fair amount of attention—over 4,000 hits on YouTube. And within the first week here in the Parish of Seaforth, one of the youth parish asked me, “Hey you are that guy in the rap video?”

All these responses made me wonder, how can we reach out to youth?  How is rapping part of the answer?

This fall I will continue the youth group that the previous curate established. In my parish there are a lot of youth, but like youth in other areas, they have many commitments: school, hockey, music, and other worthwhile activities. Some of the things our youth group has planned include going to a hockey game, a shopping trip, visiting a corn maze for Halloween, and fundraisers that will help our church and global initiatives like PWRDF.

I believe it’s important to involve the youth in fun activities, as well as projects with a more serious element. Being connected with our Anglican brothers and sisters in South Africa is just as important as being connected to youth in other regions of the diocese.

Sometimes I wonder what it is like for a clergyperson who is “older.”  (I hope I don’t get in trouble for saying this!) I wonder, does being 26 offer me an advantage? Perhaps. Maybe I watch similar television shows, surf similar websites, and share the same taste in films. However, I think clergy of all ages need to figure out what youth are doing in their communities. What shows are they watching?  What kinds of music?  What do LOL and BRB mean?

On the other hand, I think that clergy sometimes may try too hard at bringing in the flock. When I was a youth, one of the most helpful leaders was someone who didn’t always mention God, although God was always present in the moment. I think she just let us be. She let us talk about school and our relationships. God then crept into the conversation.

Priests and laity need to come to the conversation as themselves and find the Creator is in every element of life. In film, on MuchMusic, MTV, in sport, and yes in the sweet rhymes of rap. God and spirituality are always behind and in front of the conversation, so let youth be themselves, let them ask the questions, I say. Travel alongside. Sometimes there is too much programming that clouds or boxes in the time together. As John Lennon says “Let it Be.” Let the conversation go where it needs. And when a questions is asked, listen and let the spirit move those involved.

I figured that my first priority was to meet the people, and so I’ve been visiting a lot, meeting the wardens, organists, and other parishioners. I’ve ended up at the wrong house once, and I have to say without Google Maps, I have no idea how I would find the little homes deep in the woods of Nova Scotia. It’s been kind of like the story of Hansel and Gretel. I’ve visited some nice parishioners, and have eaten wonderful baked goods.  But although some elderly ladies have lured me in with cookies, no one’s shoved me in an oven yet.

As I probably mentioned, I really like meeting new people. I feel that call to pastoral ministry. I like to hear the stories of people’s lives. I’ve met some interesting people who have worked hard for the church, people who care about God in this world. So I’ve put a few clicks on my car for sure.

Speaking of the car, I’ve received some comments on it. It’s a three-door sports car—red of course, and low to the ground.  I’m not sure if it will last the winters here, so I may have to trade it in.  My next big purchase (once the student loans are paid off) would be a motorcycle.  Perhaps a Honda Shadow is befitting of a young man in ministry?

So, what else have I been up to?  So far I’ve conducted a burial (it’s always good to get the first one done), and I’ve visited a funeral home and helped with a service.  I’ve introduced myself to the hospital staff. I just need to go and have coffee with the funeral director. For some reason I figure it will be like an episode of Six Feet Under. I’ll keep you posted.

I have also discovered that photocopiers are not my friends. Each week I put the worship order together, and I have had little luck because of the humidity. The copier always jams. Does anyone know a priest who has a calling to bless photocopiers?  If so, please post information below!

Another new experience was being in a parade. A few weeks ago, as I waved to the citizens of Porters Lake from the back of a pickup truck in the scorching heat, I realized that this is it. I am now a spokesperson of sorts for the church. I have to admit that I was a little scared. I mean it isn’t easy to look after six kids in the back of a truck (who were eating the candy instead of tossing it to the crowd) but that wasn’t it. It’s the fact that now I wear a collar. Now I represent something that is to be taken seriously.

I am not in an internship anymore; this is the real deal. As I jumped off the back of the truck, I could feel the heat (I recommend not wearing black clerical shirts to a parade), and I could feel the collar tighten around my neck. I represent the Anglican Church of Canada now, and this is something that I take seriously. It’s not easy to explain to other young men and women why I’ve chosen this path. Perhaps it’s the people that draw me to this: those in need, the people who feel God’s presence and just want to talk. Just being present in the lives of others seems to make a difference.  So with all that’s been happening I have been happy.  I will catch up on my z’s when I can, and in the meantime, keep on trucking in my little red sports car.

I have now started my first job as deacon here in Porters Lake, N.S. in the Parish of Seaforth. It is a beautiful rural parish with five churches and I will share this ministry with another rector. It will be a learning experience as two people share their faith, best practices, and their understanding of church life.

My first order of ministry is to visit the parishioners and to get to know the people of the community and congregation. I’ve just moved into a beautiful rectory, the kind of house I’m used to. Since my parents are clergy, I’ve lived in rectories and manses my whole life. Getting this place ready and visiting people is what I’ve been about for the summer.

Some will wonder why a young man would want to enter the ministry. Why, when the world encourages the secular?  Why, when others jobs—as a carpenter, banker, doctor, retail clerk, and yes, a lawyer (my first ambition)—seem to be the norm?

Well, something happened. I felt a call from God to enter this type of life. My godfather was instrumental in helping me realize my call to ministry. He, along with my friends, would often tell me “you’re going to be a minister” even though I always thought I’d be a lawyer. It took a life-changing trip to England, and the moving of the Holy Spirit to remove the notion of a law career from my head.

I have a lot to learn as a newly ordained deacon and, God willing, a future priest. I want to let myself become a part of the body of Christ, and to be the church. I will take this time to learn, to serve and to act as a steward of God’s church. This will be difficult in a world where Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, and Bill Maher are commonly referred to. A world that sees its economy collapsed, wars all over, and an environment that is suffering because of our decisions as a people.

Yet I can’t help but be excited to take part in the world while wearing a clerical shirt. It will be exciting to walk down the street, have someone recognize me as a minister, then have this lead to a cup of coffee and conversation together. These are the things I look forward to. Still there will be moments of crisis when I will be called upon, and that’s when a “fresh” clergyperson really prays to God for help.

All in time, all in God’s warm embrace will I seek this calling.

Our Primate, Archbishop Fred Hiltz, often refers to the Anglican Church of Canada, as “our beloved church.”  As a young clergyperson, I aspire to the positive attitude of this statement. I look forward to a church that sees itself as beloved, that seeks to understand its role in the world, a church that understands itself, and the ministry it has to do. May God help me in the work of the church and in the sharing of community. Pray for me!