Reflections of a Canadian Churchman

Note: For the Prologue to this series, click here . I have always strenuously resisted identification with any particular form of churchmanship or association with any particular church “party.” I tend to stay away from such self-identifying terms as “high church” or “low church”; “Anglo-catholic” or “Evangelical”; “conservative” or “liberal.” This is not to say that I don’t have particular leanings in the direction of some of the above labels, but in the spirit of the great nineteenth century theologian, F.D. Maurice, I have never felt inclined towards aligning myself with any particular “brand” of Anglican churchmanship. I believe that Anglicanism draws together the beauty of these various strands, not creating a dull homogeny, but a rich tapestry. To devote so much of oneself to one strand is to miss the beauty of the whole. As such, I prefer the simple designation “churchman” for that is who I am, neither “high” nor “low,” nor any of the above assortment of colours. Rather, I like ...

Every few years or so, usually when I move, I find an old photocopied document entitled “Reflections on the Journey.” It is about ten pages long, stapled at the top left corner and now has a water stain on the front cover from resting on the top of a shelf underneath an air conditioning line that was prone to freeze up and then melt. It was produced in 1992 by the people of my home parish, St. Mary’s Anglican Church in Richmond Hill, as part of their Lenten journey in that year. Parishioners were invited to write and share reflections on how God had moved in their lives. I have kept this little document since then and whenever it pops up I peruse it for a few moments, reading over some of the selections. These moments are usually filled with the requisite nostalgia as I see the names of many who have meant and continue to mean much to me on my own faith journey. The nostalgia deepens when I think of those who are now in heaven. The sentimentality of the nostalgia gives way, however, t...