Welcome to the Ordinary & Save the Dates...

Friday, June 20, 2025

Welcome to Ordinary Time!

You did it! WOOHOO! You've made it through this church year... all the way from fall "start-up"...through Advent and Christmas... Lent and Easter... Pentecost and Trinity Sunday. 

You've made it to "Ordinary Time", from the word ordinal,  as in “ordinal numbers”, which tell the rank or position of something (first, second, third, etc). The Sundays after the celebration of Epiphany and Pentecost are called “the [first, second, third, etc] Sunday after Epiphany/Pentecost, so the season is called “Ordinary Time”. 

And it does feel ordinary, doesn’t it? After a busy year, filled with lots of special church services, seasons and events, it feels like “ordinary time” in the other sense of the word: normal with no special or distinctive features. 

Sometimes, ordinary is the BEST.THING.EVER.

After all, life is often ordinary. We get up, make our tea or coffee, do what needs to be done for the day, return home, rest, and do it all again. Ordinary time, ordinary days, ordinary moments, bring the big moments of our life together into a whole.

Jesus did some of his most amazing teaching while doing quite ordinary things, like eating, walking, even spitting. Jesus’ ministry was actually quite ordinary as he was with people, day in and day out. The extraordinary events of Holy Week and Easter gave new meaning to the ordinary - for Jesus and for us.  

The Christian year moves us forward and around in the mystery of our ordinary lives. Our lives change for better and for worse; we encounter grief and joy, challenges and accomplishments; exciting and boring things happen. Sacred seasons come and go, and will come again.

Our lives will be different, maybe in small ways, maybe in significant ways, when we reach our next special season, Advent, when we prepare again for the mystery of Christmas. Until then, in these ordinary days, Jesus accompanies us on our journeys of faith. Some moments will be extraordinary, and many will be ordinary.  God will be with us, journeying with us through them all. Day in and day out. 

Thanks be to God! 

Save These Dates... (webpages, registration and fees are all being developed, more info soon!)

Leading Together: A Conference for Lay Leaders and Ministry Personnel, September 19-20, 2025, in Victoria, BC AND October 17-19, 2025 in Calgary, AB!

Ministry Personnel Retreat (Pacific Mountain Region), September 29 - October 2, 2025 in Naramata, BC

Ministry Personnel Retreat (Chinook Winds Region), February 2-5, 2026 at Sanctum Retreat Centre, Caroline, AB

Decolonization is a Community Act: for church leaders and youth/young adults, March 16-19, 2026, Camp Fircom, Gambier Island, BC

Festival of Faith North, April 17-19, 2026 in Prince George, BC

Hope to connect with you soon…

Michelle

The Lentiest Lent

Do you remember Lent 2020, at the beginning of the COVID pandemic shutdown? We joked that it was "the Lentiest Lent ever". We had no idea of just how much more Lenty Lent could get...

Maybe you're feeling like me: overwhelmed, anxious (okay downright terrified), paralyzed, powerless, wondering where to find hope.

If you are, then maybe Lent really is the right season for us right now, after all.

I preached on the Transfiguration last Sunday, and I noticed for the first time, that the transfiguration of Jesus itself, is actually not the climax of the story! The climax, as far as I can tell, when Elijah and Moses leave, and the cloud descends, and the disciples are terrified. 

Then, the Voice says, "This is my Beloved, my Chosen. Listen to him!"

God's voice and power, promise and presence, are made known not only in the brilliance, in the glowing, in the radiance. But also, just as crucially, in the middle of the cloud, in the moment of terror and confusion.

We know we are in for a rough ride, politically, economically, ecologically. The clouds are looming over us, and the rest of creation.

And, it turns out, that is exactly where God speaks to us, to reassure us, and to call us, to listen to Jesus.

Yesterday I woke up anxious, scrolled the news feed, raced to the office, and immediately had a chocolate emergency. I hustled to my local indie coffee shop down the street before my first Zoom meeting, stepping in dog poop on the way, and blurted out ALL of that to the barista behind the counter.

They took a deep breath, looked so kindly at me, and said, "You know, all of that (waving hands around), is not in your control, right? What is in your control? Your family, your friends, your neighbourhood, your community, your actions." Then they went on to invite me to a training they were holding the next day on civil disobedience. 

This beautiful person really was the voice of God for me yesterday, when I was spiralling, and I left not only with my London Fog and pain au chocolat, but with a renewed sense of hope, community and trust that I was not alone in all of this. 

I pray that this Lent, God will make themself known to you too, in large and small ways. I pray that you will be opened to the presence of God, in the moments of brilliance, and in the cloud of tumult, anxiety, and distress. And, I pray that we may be channels of God's voice and presence to one another, when we are feeling overwhelmed.

Knowing you may be embarking on book studies, discussion groups, special liturgy, and more for this Lenten season, you are in my prayers – for strength, sustenance, and deep peace, on the road to Jerusalem.

Deep blessings in this hard, holy, life-giving season ahead, 

Michelle

Transforming Community

Last week, I spent four days near Caroline, Alberta, at a retreat with ministry personnel from Chinook Winds Region. Our beautiful altar (picture above) took shape and grew as the week went by, including stones, water, and an ever increasing number of plants! It was moving how life continued to emerge over our time together.

The setting was truly beautiful, the food was delicious, and the hospitality was generous. The learning was useful too, focusing on the impact of clergy burnout, and encouraging practices for flourishing in ministry, and in life.

But what filled my heart the most, were two practices.

The first was the practice of singing. We sang a lot together:  old favourite hymns, new Christian songs that gave fresh voice to the old story,  and classical pop songs that resonated with the themes of our times together. One evening, we sang to each person, the hymn or song that most expressed the essence of their call to ministry, with much laughter and some tears. Singing together, I was reminded again of the many physical, spiritual, social, emotional and psychological benefits that singing in a group brings.

The second practice was the practice of play.  During our time together, there was walking and snowshoeing, and lively conversation. One evening, there was a competitive billiards tournament, a group game involving recognizing popular music (I think!), people chatting over a puzzle, and some spirited karaoke. To hear the sounds of laughter, to see new friendships being formed and old ones being strengthened, was so beautiful.

I suspect both these practices are among the things people miss when they say they miss presbytery. Certainly, the church restructure, with the COVID epidemic hot on its heels, have increased a sense of loneliness and isolation in ministry personnel.

And yet we know - we know - that relationship is what gives us life: relationship with God in Jesus Christ, with the earth, with one another, and with our deepest selves, is not optional, but vital to flourishing in ministry, and in life.

After all, we are made in God's image, the God we know and experience as One and also Three. We are created in the image of a God who is Godself, relationship, and so we should not be surprised that it is in healthy relationships that human beings flourish. 

I don't know about you. But I have been spiraling in anxiety about the state of, well, everything: the seeming collapse of American democracy, an impending trade war and its effects on the economy, the Canadian dollar, federal politics, the state of the church, and a few personal worries as well. 

A low level of anxiety is usually my native habitat, but for the past few weeks I've found myself catastrophizing. I know others have felt boiling rage, while others find themselves bursting into tears.
 
What calmed my anxious stewing, and turned me toward hope again, was being in community, with other followers of Jesus, and leaders of his church. I left feeling heartened, hopeful,  and encouraged (and yes, also with a flu virus!) about the future of our church, our regions, our country and even our world.

Wherever you are on the anxiety to catastrophizing scale, I hope you'll be intentional about looking for opportunities for community with those who share the journey!