Joy and Grief in Ascensiontide
Dear People, Neighbours, and Friends of St. Thomas’s,
Joy is worth naming when we encounter it. Just this afternoon, we celebrated a Solemn Nuptial Mass that gave pastoral expression to the joy of Ascensiontide. Last year, I had the privilege of baptizing the husband at the Easter Vigil, and at that same service the wife was confirmed by the Bishop. It was a gift to bring this couple together on their sacramental journey, and I am inspired by their faithfulness to each other, to this parish, and to God. As the photographer set up her equipment in front of the high altar afterwards, she noted that it was still rather smoky in the church, despite a couple of clerestory windows being opened. I told her that we certainly came by our nickname, “Smoky Tom’s,” honestly. Even in the haze of smoke, the joy of the wedding and of the newlyweds was palpable.
Grief is also worth naming when we encounter it. The wedding vows promise fidelity “until death do us part,” and every time a devoted parishioner dies and is buried from this church, such as Danuta Smith earlier this month, I am reminded that the faithfulness of any parish is not measured primarily by its clergy but by the laypeople whom the clergy are called to serve. Danuta was that rarest of combinations: both brilliant and humble, and she knew what “until death do us part” meant, having lived for many years as a widow. I ask that you keep Danuta’s children in your prayers, remembering that grief and joy are not mutually exclusive, as it is only through the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ that we are brought from the depths of grief to the heights of joy.
Over the course of five years at Smoky Tom’s, I have been impressed, time and again, by the people of St. Thomas’s in your commitment to proclaiming the Gospel in word and deed — through music and liturgy, through service to the food insecure, through past participation in refugee sponsorship and resettlement, through the daily work of welcoming the stranger.
One of the things I love about this parish is that St. Thomas’s is not an “us” against “them” kind of place. Whether rich or poor, rooted to this land over millennia, centuries, or relative newcomers such as myself; whether longtime Anglican or first-time visitor, from across the street or around the world, here you find a “we” from every Toronto demographic, united in love and service, reaching out to neighbours of every faith and of none as together we work for the common good.
It is this commitment to the common good that has moved so many — parishioners, neighbours, friends, and even relative strangers — to give so generously of their time, talent, and treasure to this parish, and most recently to our Cornerstone Campaign. Whether someone comes through our doors for a hot meal on a cold Friday, for a concert by an established or emerging artist, or for an uplifting Sunday service sung by choristers both younger and older, they can know there is a place at the table and in the pews for them.
Our historic Arts & Crafts church is the beating heart of this community, and our Parish Hall its community centre — a daycare, a home for choirs and community groups, and the base for our outreach programs serving every generation. People from every walk of life can encounter something life-affirming and life-giving here, at whatever stage of life they may be in. And for those among us for whom someday our funeral will be held in this church, we find something here that gives us life even beyond this life, a joy that endures even beyond the grave.
The priesthood exists to testify to this fact, and two anniversaries within these days of Ascensiontide bring all this home. This past Thursday marked the twenty-fourth anniversary of my own ordination, on Ascension Day in 2002. And today, Saturday the 16th, marks the fiftieth anniversary of our beloved honorary assistant Fr. Theo Ipema’s priesting. He was the celebrant of a simple Low Mass this morning quietly marking that milestone, but I couldn’t let that pass without a little more fuss. And what I would say of my own ministry, I expect Fr. Ipema would say of his: whatever we have offered at the altar has only ever been for the sake of the people who called us to serve there.
Sometimes, I am astounded by all that we are given to share at Smoky Tom’s — the weddings and the funerals, the joys and the griefs. But should we be surprised that this is so? When I look at the faces of our faithful people and remember the countenances of those who have gone before us with the mark of faith, I am not surprised in the least.
Yours in Christ’s service,
Nathan J.A. Humphrey+
VIII Rector
