Reflections of a Canadian Churchman

Who is My Neighbour? Introducing Mr. Perkins by Daniel F. Graves I would like to introduce you to a friend of mine.  His name is the Rev. William Perkins. Now, I should be perfectly clear that he resides only in the landscape of my imagination. Mr. Perkins, for so he liked to be called, was the parson of a small rural Ontario town which I shall call Hampton's Corners.  Hampton's Corners is one of those places that has escaped becoming a completely depressed rural town because it is in within commuting distance of the city.  It is not a bustling place, but neither is it a sleepy hollow.  Mr. Perkins has been the rector of that parish for a few years now, and this is a story from his early days in the parish.             First off, I should tell you something about Mr. Perkins.   He is a man of diminutive stature, of slight build, and full head of blond hair, somewhat greying due to the effects of ministry, ...

 Mr. Perkins Explains the Trinity by Daniel F. Graves Trinity Sunday is always a day of fear and trepidation for preachers.  How is one to explain the great mystery of the Triune God – the three in one, the one in three – in a mere ten minutes? Or even more problematically, how does one explain the unity of God in a diversity of persons, distinct yet undivided, in the dreaded two-minute children’s talk?  Perhaps Mr. Perkins was over-confident in his own abilities, or perhaps he was just naïve. Today, he would never even attempt it, but back in the days of his early ministry, during his early years in the little parish of Hampton’s Corners, he thought himself equal to the task.   His first go at explaining the Trinity was during a children’s talk on Trinity Sunday when he was a relatively new priest.  He self-confidently beckoned the children forward to the chancel steps and sat down amongst them. With hindsight, we can scarcely believe that he did not antic...

 Transfiguration: A Mr. Perkins Story by Daniel F. Graves Like many of us, before the pandemic struck, Mr. Perkins had never heard of Zoom.  He was content to offer services each Sunday to the small congregation that would gather in his little church.  It had never occurred to him to broadcast his services or his sermons beyond the audience that faithfully gathered on the sacred day, at the sacred hour.  This, of course, all changed when pandemic came, and the government called for the closure of schools, and businesses, and even churches.  A few weeks went by with Mr. Perkins sending around the text of his homilies by email, and even this was a bit of a stretch for him, for Mr. Perkins was an old-fashioned sort of cleric. People used to joke that the quill pen and the pad of paper were the most advanced technology he used.  But a call from his churchwarden Judy Jumblejump convinced him, or shall we say coerced him, into making an attempt at broadcasting th...