Some of you may recall that I partnered with Martha Drake two years ago to contribute a reflection to this project. But since the pandemic started, forcing our beloved church to close, I find myself thinking a lot about what St. Olave’s means to me. So with your indulgence, I’m taking another run at it.
St. Olave’s is a place to grow.
Our family grew here. Craig and I joined St. Olave’s as newlyweds. I started singing with the choir and my fellow choristers feted me with baby showers for both Katie and Gabbie. You can’t imagine how special and welcome that made us feel. Overwhelmed really.
As my participation in St. Olave’s grew from singing in the choir, to helping in Junior Church, to serving as a Warden, my love for this place grew along with it. Our family has so many friendships that were planted in the pews, but grew far outside the church walls.
I also observed a growing list of parishioners and clergy give so freely of themselves – role models if you will. Following in their footsteps I find great satisfaction in organizing events, coming up with new ways to reach the community, and sharing the joy of St. Olave’s with others.
But in recent years, Rob+ and now Alexandra+ have helped my attachment to St. Olave’s grow from one rooted in the busy-ness of church, to one also rooted in faith. Even though we can’t pray together during our favourite liturgies, I can still worship God, either by watching the services (which our family still does together every Sunday at 10:30) or by praying on my own. Or by planting a garden.
In this uncertain “in-between time” as Rob calls it, I’m grateful to be able to grow with St. Olave’s.
St. Olave's Anglican Church
Praying together in Toronto's Bloor West Village