"This Hard and Holy Work" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday January 26, 2024 – 3^rd Sunday After Epiphany
Scripture:  1 Corinthians 12:12-31


I have to confess that the sermon that I prepared this week wasn’t the sermon I had planned to preach back at the beginning of the month when I was charting out this season between Epiphany and the start of Lent.  Back then, the reading was the same – this beautiful reading from 1 Corinthians that talks about how we, as the church are one body, and how different parts of the body are gifted and called to different tasks, and how it takes all of the body working together in order to do the work of Christ in the world.

Back at the beginning of the month, the sermon that I thought that I would be preaching today was going to be an encouraging one – talking about the different gifts that we have been given even within our congregation.  I was going to talk about how we have to work together in order to truly be a church – in the same way that an ear can’t be a fully body on its own, a preacher can’t be a full church on their own, a steward can’t be a full church on their own, a musician can’t be a full church on their own.

The sermon that I was going to preach today was going to include a Disney reference – referencing the movie Encanto, and how all of the members of the Family Madrigal used their different gifts, not for their own sake but for the sake of the world.  I was probably going to include a plug for our upcoming annual meetings, and how we all have an opportunity to share our gifts with our church and with the world.  I might even have sung a line or two of “The toe bone’s connected to the foot bone; the foot bone’s connected to the heel bone” and told a story from my years as a physiotherapist about how an injury to one part of the body can impact parts of the body far away from the original injury.

But then this week happened.  And to quote the meme I saw a couple of times on Facebook, January’s been quite the year.

After this week, that sermon I had planned to preach back at the beginning of the month just didn’t feel right, it wasn’t going to go deep enough, given all of the pain and fear in the world at the moment.  A shortlist:  transgender people in the US have had their full personhood removed from them, and queer folx are terrified that their rights will be taken away next; refugees fleeing war and persecution have had their entry visas to the US removed; environmental protections have been removed, and the US has broken away from the international climate change agreement; guidelines aimed at promoting equity and inclusion in workplaces have been eliminated.  I have colleagues in the US who are now making concrete plans for when they will be arrested for trying to stop authorities from entering their churches because sanctuaries are no longer allowed to be sanctuaries.  And I don’t know about you, but our international border is starting to feel like a pretty flimsy line in the sand between us and all of the chaos.

January has been quite the year.  Any my spirit is starting to feel battered and bruised.

And yet into this chaos, I think that the message of 1 Corinthians still holds.  In fact, I think that the message of 1 Corinthians might be even more urgent than ever.  Because we are the body of Christ.  We have been given the sacred trust of embodying Christ in all of the places that we find ourselves.

Most of you have probably heard the story that Mr. Rogers told about scary times.  He said:  “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”  Which is well-and-good, and offers a measure of comfort, especially to a child.  But I don’t think that it goes far enough.  Because if everyone was busy looking for helpers, then there would be no helpers.  Being part of the Body of Christ means that we are all called to be those helpers, making Christ present in the world.

It is scary. It is much easier to look for the helpers than to be the helper in scary times.

But the good news is that not a single one of us has to do it alone.  But think of the impact that we could have if every single member of the body of Christ was doing the work that they were called to do.  If you look closely in the media, beyond the top headlines, you will see examples of this already springing up all around.  Some of you probably heard part or all of Bishop Mariann Budde’s sermon on Tuesday – she was in a unique place to exercise her gift of proclaiming truth to power with her call to the government to reflect the compassion and mercy of Jesus, and, well, it’s not often that a sermon makes the international news.  The Body of Christ, at work in the world.  I think of my colleague Anna who is willing to face arrest in order to protect the immigrant children who attend the school that her church in Virginia operates.  The Body of Christ, at work in the world.  I think of the cartoonists and comedians who have been using humour as a tool to push back against authoritarianism.  I think about the US National Parks Employees who have gone rogue and created social media accounts independent of the government so that they can continue to speak the truth about environmental protection.

As the Body of Christ, we have each been given different gifts to use not only for the sake of the body but for the sake of the whole world.  And even though you and I may never have the same platform as some of those people I just named, I think that we, as the church, just like Esther in the Old Testament, have been called to use our gifts “for such a time as this.”

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”  A single match is enough to break the total darkness of a room, but it will quickly go out. Just think of the impact of a thousand small lights, or a million small lights.

And so yes, we can rage and mourn about the pain and injustices in the world right now; but then we are called to action – we may not be in a position to do the big, media-grabbing parts of the work, but are called to figure out what we can do, using the gifts that we have been given, in the places that we find ourselves, to truly be the Body of Christ.  To truly be agents of love and mercy.  To truly be united with one another, to be reconciled with one another, so that we can be agents of reconciliation in the world.  To truly reflect God’s presence to the world.

And we can’t ever give up, just because we can’t see the end-point of history from where we are now.  We, individually, will never be able to make the kingdom of God a reality, even by our very best efforts.  But we are not allowed to abandon the work either.  Even though we can only do it imperfectly and incompletely, we can live as if God’s kingdom was already here – making sure that hungry people are fed; making sure that our transgender siblings and neighbours are protected; extending love and community to people who are lonely and afraid; living with respect in creation.  And we trust that some day, in God’s time, this will be the reality in every corner of the universe.

For we have been called, we have been gifted, and we are sent into the world as the Body of Christ to use our gifts for the sake of the world. And may God give us the strength and the courage for this hard and holy work.  Amen.


(The sermon was followed by singing "Many are the Lightbeams")

 

 

Christ Surrounded by the Saints

Chartres Cathedral

Image Credit:  Lawrence OP on flickr

"What Would You Ask of Jesus?" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday January 19, 2025 – 2^nd Sunday After Epiphany
Scripture:  John 2:1-11


Having spent all of the season of Advent immersed in Mary’s story, I probably shouldn’t be surprised that when I read the story of the wedding at Cana this month, Mary’s perspective was the one that I gravitated towards.  And using the same technique that I use when I’m writing my story-telling sermons, I started imagining myself into her story.

Why was she at the wedding?  Cana is less than 10km away from Nazareth where Mary was likely living – closer than our Two Rivers Churches are from each other.  Back in Advent, when I mentioned this story, I imagined that a young woman from Nazareth was marrying a young man from Cana, and so a wedding might have brought the two villages together.  Or maybe one of Mary’s sisters had married into a family in Cana, so she was there attending the wedding of one of her nephews, one of Jesus’s cousins.  That might explain why Jesus and his friends were also at the wedding.  It’s interesting to note that John doesn’t have Jesus and his mother arriving together – he tells us that the mother of Jesus was there at the wedding, and that Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to that wedding.

Imagining myself into Mary’s perspective again, I wonder how Mary knew that the wine supply was exhausted.  If it were a family wedding, she might have been involved in hosting duties, supervising the food and wine, making sure that it was being served on schedule.  And so the wine running out would have been a cause for panic for her.

But another possibility is that she was simply observant.  Maybe, as she was enjoying the party, enjoying the food and music and dancing, as she was watching her friends and neighbours enjoying the party, she noticed a flurry of agitation among the servants.  And so observation combined with curiosity might have led to her asking the question – what’s going on here.

Which brings me to my last question about Mary.  How did she know that Jesus would be able to do something about the wine shortage?  John, our narrator, tells us that this was the first of Jesus’s signs, implying that he hadn’t performed any other signs before this one.  If you flip back to chapter 1, you will find the story of John the Baptist, as well as Jesus calling his first disciples, but you don’t find any stories of miracles.  Unlike the other gospels, John leaves out the story of Jesus’s baptism, so we don’t get to see the Holy Spirit descending like a dove; and we don’t get to hear the voice of the one whom Jesus calls “Father” proclaiming Jesus to be the beloved child.  John also doesn’t give us a birth story for Jesus – no angels, no shepherds or wise men, no heavenly chorus, no extraordinary star, not even any dreams.  This story of the Wedding at Cana is the first time that Jesus’s mother makes an appearance in the story.

And yet, even though all of these things are missing from the story, Jesus’s mother still knows that her son is able to do something so that the family hosting the wedding won’t be shamed for failing to extend the hospitality that was expected of them.

And not only does she know that Jesus can do something, she persists even when Jesus’s first answer is “no.”  Even when Jesus replies, saying, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me?” – incidentally, this response is just as rude in the original Greek as it is in our English translation – even when Jesus replies, saying, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me?” Mary brushes off his rejection.  She goes ahead, assumes that he is going to do something about the wine shortage, and tells the servants to do whatever her boy tells them to do.

How did Mary know?  I don’t have a good answer to this question, beyond letting my imagination take flight, so I will leave that question to your imagination.  How did Mary know that her boy would be able to do something about the impending catastrophe?

And, as we can see from the story, her trust in her child was fully justified.  In fact, Jesus’s response to the situation far exceeded anyone’s expectations.  Jesus’s response to the situation likely exceeded anyone’s wildest hopes.  Six stone water jars, holding water used for purification rituals, suddenly held wine instead of water.  And an abundance of wine.  If each stone jar held 20-30 gallons of water, let’s take the average of 25 gallons.  And there were six of them, so 150 gallons of wine.  Or, since I think in metric, 568 litres of wine, give or take depending on the exact size of the water jars.  Or more than 750 bottles of wine, using the modern 750mL wine bottle size.  This is an abundance of wine appearing at a banquet when the wine was about to run out.

And not just ordinary wine, the cheap stuff that would normally be served once the guests are drunk, but this was fine wine, better wine than anyone had ever tasted before.

And with this wine, the hospitality of the hosts could continue, the blanket of fear and anxiety was lifted, and the joy of the celebration could continue.

I love the story of the Wedding at Cana, not because of the wine (though part of me wishes that I could taste a sip of this most excellent wine), but because it is a story of abundance and a story of joy.

In the gospel of John, Jesus’s miraculous acts are never referred to as miracles – instead John names them as signs.  And if you think about what signs are, signs point to things.  If you’re driving into town, you might pass a sign that says “Saint John, next exit” and the purpose of that sign is to point you towards the next exit if you are trying to get to Saint John.

And so by naming Jesus’s miraculous acts as “signs” John is telling us that these acts point us towards something.  Jesus’s miraculous acts, like turning water into wine, are signs of how Jesus presents God to the world.  With this sign, Jesus is pointing us towards a God whose essence, whose core values are joy and abundance.

There are so many theological nuances in this story that I could explore.  It begins with a reference to the third day which, to a reader who knows Jesus’s full story, has us thinking about Easter and resurrection right from the beginning.  The water in the jugs might make us think of the waters of baptism.  The wine might also have us making connections with communion, and the feast that we celebrate as the church.  The fact that it was water that was used for purification rituals might help our brains make the additional leap to think of the communion wine that we share as being purifying in some way.  Even the setting of a wedding can remind us of the teaching that the church is the bride of Christ.  Each one of these theological details and hints in this story could be a sermon on its own; but don’t worry – I’m not going to try and preach all of those sermons this morning.

Instead, the place where I want to end is with those questions of trust and abundance.  Mary trusted that Jesus would answer her plea, and even when his first answer was no, her trust wasn’t shaken and she persisted.

And so the question that I want to ask each of you is:  What would you ask of Jesus, if, like Mary, you trusted that his response would be abundance.  What would we ask of Jesus if we trusted that his response would be abundance?  And then a second follow-up question:  What keeps us from asking?

May God hear our prayers; and then, in the right time and in the right way, answer them.  Amen.

“The Wedding at Cana”
JESUS MAFA
Used with Permission

"Wade in the Water" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday January 12, 2025 – Baptism of Jesus
Scripture:  Isaiah 43:1-7 and Luke 3:15-17, 21-22


I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling these days as if the world is extra topsy-turvy and chaotic and unpredictable, and even fear-inducing.  Between wildfires ripping through urban Los Angeles, earthquakes in Tibet, Canadian, American, international politics in turmoil, a scary inauguration coming up in just over a week south of the border, fact-checking being removed from Social Media, ongoing wars in Palestine and Ukraine, and the everyday ongoing existential dread around climate change, I don’t think that I’m the only one wondering what the heck is going on in the world these days.

 

And into the chaos of the world, how does it feel to hear these words of God, spoken through the prophet Isaiah?

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you.

I have called you by name, you are mine.

When you pass through the waters,

         I will be with you;

and through the rivers,

         they shall not overwhelm you;

when you walk through fire,

         you shall not be burned,

         and the flame shall not consume you.

Do not fear, for I am with you.

 

I can imagine that there are a number of different ways that these words might be heard.  On one hand, they might be comforting.  But maybe not.  If you are literally running for your life through your neighbourhood trying to escape the wildfire flames, carrying your dog because you didn’t have time to look for a leash, hearing that you can walk through the fire and not be burned would probably sound like pretty empty words.  If you are hunkered down in a refugee tent in January weather because your house was bombed by an invading army, the words “Do not fear, for I am with you” would probably sound like an empty promise, words with no real meaning behind them.  If you are living on an island in the Pacific ocean, watching the ocean levels rise year after year, shrinking the available land mass for you and your neighbours, fearful that the next tsunami will wipe out your island completely, I don’t know how much comfort could be found in the words, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.”

 

And with all of the anxiety and dread in the world, how can we truly hear those words that God says again and again and again:  “Do not fear”?

 

But then I go back and read this passage from Isaiah, and I remember that these words of God were not spoken to the Ancient Israelites when everything was sunshine and roses and rainbows and unicorns.  I remember that these words came to the prophet Isaiah in a time of exile – a time when their homes and cities, and even the temple in Jerusalem, the literal home of God, all of these had been destroyed by an invading army, and the people had been carried away to a foreign land, carried away to Babylon, and there they sat on the banks of the river and wept.  These words from Isaiah are being spoken into a time and a place that was maybe even more chaotic and fearful than our own time and place, and being spoken to a people even more traumatized than we and our neighbours are.  Into all of this, God speaks, and God says, “Don’t be afraid.”

 

And to our ancient ancestors, God was faithful to their promises.  It didn’t happen quickly.  The exile lasted for 70 years, so the majority of people who had been carried into exile didn’t live to see the time when their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren were able to return from exile in Babylon.  The people who witnessed the destruction of the temple didn’t get to witness the re-building of the temple in a re-built Jerusalem.  But God was faithful to their promises, and the time came when God accompanied their people back through the wilderness in order to return to the land.

 

Even though God’s timeline is rarely the same as our timeline or the timeline that we want, God is always faithful to their promises.  No matter what fears or worries or burdens you are carrying right now – either global concerns, or worries closer to home, you can rest assured that God is with you, that God loves you, and that pain and fear and suffering is never the end of the story.

 

Today is also the day that we remember the time when Jesus was baptized in the Jordan River, and I want to end this reflection with a guided mediation.  Wherever you are (here in the church or at home and joining us online), I invite you to sit comfortably.  Sometimes when you are doing a meditation, it is helpful to make sure that both of your feet are on the floor, and your hands are resting on your lap, but really, however you are comfortable is fine.  If you want to lie down on the floor, go for it!  If you are comfortable closing your eyes, I invite you to close your eyes now; but if you aren’t comfortable closing your eyes, that is OK too.

 

I invite you to imagine that you are standing beside the river – standing beside your favourite river, a familiar river.  It isn’t a January river though – it is an August river, with water just the right temperature to be both comfortable and refreshing.  It is a warm sunny day, with just a bit of a breeze that you can feel gently brushing your skin.

 

Are you carrying any worries with you?  Feel free to acknowledge these worries or your fears.  The river is going to be washing away these worries, but in order to do that, you need to bring them to the surface of your awareness.  Name your worries to yourself.  Name those things that you are afraid of.  Don’t give them power over you, by pretending that they don’t exist.

 

As you stand there by the river, what do you hear?  Are there waves lapping against the shore?  Do you hear any birdcalls, either nearby or far away?

 

Are there any smells that catch your attention?  Maybe one of the neighbours is grilling something on this beautiful summer day?  Or maybe it is the green smell of the August waters?

 

Someone is already out there in the river, standing waist-deep in the water. It is someone that you know well, someone that you love, someone that you trust.  Who is it, standing out there in the water?

 

They are beckoning to you to come out and join them in the water. Kick off your sandals, and if the river bed is rocky, feel free to put on some water shoes.

 

And now I invite you to start wading out into the river.  At first the water is only lapping around your ankles.  Keep going until it is up to your knees.  How does the water feel against your legs?  Keep wading out a bit deeper until the water comes up to your waist and you are standing next to your person.

 

Make sure that you are facing each other.  You’re going to be going under the water, so hold on to each other’s forearms so that you can support each other.  Take a deep breath, and then slowly go under the surface of the water together.

 

How does it feel to have the water embracing your whole body?  If you feel any moments of panic, plant your feet firmly on the river bottom, and feel the support from your friend as you hold each other’s arms.  And there, under the water of the river, feel the water carrying away those worries, those fears, those anxieties that you named to yourself earlier.  Let them drift away on the current.  The cleansing water is making you new, renewing your heart and refreshing your spirit.

 

Now, make sure that your feet are on the bottom of the river, and you and your companion help each other come up out of the water.  Take a deep breath of re-birth.  Feel the air rushing into your lungs.

 

And now hear a voice in the air around you, a voice filled with love, saying, “You are my child.  You are my beloved one.  In you, I take delight.”

 

Rest in that love.  Rest in that feeling of newness.  Slowly let the sights and smells and sounds of the river come back to you.

 

And when you are ready, I invite you to open your eyes again and return to this time and place.

 

And may this love and this rebirth stay with you, and linger in your heart, and bring continual refreshment to your spirit.  Amen.

 

 

An August River
(The Wolastoq – much beloved in this part of the world)
Photo Credit: K. Jones

"Curious Wisdom-Seekers" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday January 5, 2025 – Celebration of Epiphany
Scripture – Matthew 2:1-12


Today, we read the familiar story of the magi who traveled afar, following a star, to meet the young child whom they named “King.”  I will say though, that at our “Asking the Big Questions” gathering back in December – the night when we tackled the question of “Why bother with Christmas?” – we discovered that this story maybe isn’t as familiar as people think that it is.  I rather suspect that people are more familiar with the story from either Christmas pageants, or nativity sets, or from the song, “We Three Kings” than they are from Matthew’s account of it.

 

For example, did you notice, as _______ was reading the story, that the number of magi isn’t listed?  All that it says is that wise men, or magi from the East came to Jerusalem.  Tradition has assumed that there were three of them, likely because they present three different gifts, and some traditions have even given the three of them names, but all that Matthew tells us is that they were plural – more than one.  There might have been two of them, or there might have been 200 of them.  We really don’t know.

 

There also aren’t any camels mentioned in the story.  How the magi travelled from their unnamed home in the East we don’t know.

 

And finally, who were these wise ones?  They are not named as kings, despite what the song says, though they acknowledge Jesus as a king.  They did have access to expensive gifts though – gold, frankincense, and myrrh were all precious and valuable items to be giving away.

 

Instead, they are named as magi, which is a direct transliteration from the Greek word used in the original version of Matthew’s gospel.  It’s not a word that we use commonly in English, magi, but it has a couple of close relatives.  Magic.  Magician.  Magical.  Mage (if you are a fan of fantasy games and literature).  But outside of this story, we don’t normally talk about magi in everyday conversation.

 

Were they magicians or sorcerers?  Were they astrologers, studying the movement of the stars to try and determine the effect of the stars on our human lives.  That makes sense, given that they noticed a new star appearing in the sky when nobody else did.

 

I like to think of them as seekers – spiritual seekers – wisdom seekers.  They were curious, they were attuned to the signs, and most importantly, they were willing to put the rubber to the road – well, not literally, because even though we don’t know how they travelled to Jerusalem and on to Bethlehem, it is highly unlikely that it was by motorized vehicle – but they were willing to leave their home, wherever that was, and travel to a foreign land to see more.  They arrived, bearing gifts in expectation of encountering a king, and left, having, perhaps, encountered just a little bit more.

 

I love how Matthew includes their story within the larger story of Jesus, and right here at the very beginning of the story.  Right from the very beginning, Jesus is accessible to everyone, to the whole world.  Everyone who seeks Jesus, finds him.

 

What would the world be like, if everyone could be like those magi, those wise ones, those wisdom-seekers?  What would the world be like if everyone could set aside their certainty and convictions, and be curious instead?  What would the world be like if everyone was both willing and able to follow their curiosity right through to the end?

 

I truly believe that those magi have so much to teach the world, especially the world today as we become more and more entrenched in us-versus-them thinking and ideology, as we become more and more isolated in our silos (in real life and also online) where we only associate with people who think like us.

 

Those wise ones didn’t study the heavens, spot a new star, and say to themselves, “Well, a new star. Let’s record it on our star chart and then return to our watching for the next one to appear.”  Instead, they packed their bags, gathered up their entourage, and set out from their homes to follow where the star led them.

 

When they got to the place where the star stopped, they didn’t say to each other, “Look, another child just like any other child.”  Instead, they somehow recognized that there was something different about this child – something worthy of their worship and their extravagant gifts.

 

And then, when the time came for them to turn around and return home, we’re told that they were warned in a dream not to return to Herod, and rather than brushing the dream off as the result of a bad bit of mutton the night before, they paid attention to the dream, they allowed their journey to be re-shaped as a result of that dream, and they returned home by a different path.

 

And so, I think that my wish for all of us, as we embark on a new year together, is that we all might be more like these magi.  That we all might be spiritual seekers or wisdom seekers.  That we might be curious about the world, and open to having our path through life changed by what we encounter and by what we experience.

 

And most of all, that we might be open enough that we can recognize Christ even in the most unexpected circumstances.  And then, once we have recognized Christ – whether that be in the face of someone we encounter, in the actions that we witness, in a piece of art of music, in a sunset or a moonrise – once we have recognized that we are in the presence of Christ, that we might open our hearts and our lives and pour out our worship.

 

Because I honestly think that the world would be a better place if we could all be curious wisdom-seekers, recognizing the presence of God wherever we go, and opening ourselves up to be changed by the encounter.  The world would be a better place, and our lives would be more richly lived, and so that is my wish for all of us on this threshold of a new year.

 

And may it be so.  Amen.

 

 

“Rising Star, Milky Way”

John Fowler

Used with Permission

2024 in Books

I’m back with my annual summary of my reading from the past 12 months!

Overall, 2024 was a good reading year. Being on Sabbatical for 3 months definitely helped – at one point, I realized that I had 3 books on the go at the same time, something that hasn’t happened in a couple of decades. I’ve always been a reader, but this year my identity as a Reader has felt stronger than it has been in a while.

Starting with the fun stuff – my favourite reads of 2024 (in the order I read them, not in order of preference)!

Demon Copperhead (Barbara Kingsolver)

I listened to this book in February when I went to visit Dad in Ontario – airplane and train listening, as well as hanging out at Dad’s house. This is a book that has won a number of awards, so I probably don’t need to say too much about it – it is a David Copperfield re-telling set in Appalachia in the 80s, 90s, and 2000s. The narrator made the story come alive for me. It’s a “big” book in several senses of the word, but listening to it made it very accessible. I’ve recommended this book (especially the audio version) to a number of people since!

A Rip Through Time (Kelley Armstrong)

Another audiobook – this one I listened to while driving home from a ski vacation in Québec in March.  It is a “time slip” murder mystery where a 21^st century Canadian detective ends up in the body of a Victorian housemaid in Edinburgh. With all of the details of Victorian Edinburgh, the author has definitely done her research, the characters are all 3-dimensional, and the book is funny (as in laugh-out-loud funny at times when listening) as well as gripping.  (Honourable mention to the subsequent books in the series which I have also listened to. Another one is coming out in May, so I’ll be getting my name on the waiting list at the library as soon as it is available!)


Butter Honey Pig Bread (francesca ekwuyasi)

This was a “gym read” for me (I read e-books from the library on the Elliptical), but with a bit more substance than my usual gym reads. And the characters and story have haunted me since I read it back in July. It is a multi-generational story that moves between a mother and her twin daughters. It moves between Nigeria, the UK, and Canada.  There is an element of “magical realism” but it is the characters and their relationships that I loved most of all.



The Secret Chord (Geraldine Brooks)

We have a weekly bible study at the church and are meandering our way through the Old Testament.  Through the later fall months, we began the King David story cycle, and I remembered that an author I had enjoyed previously had written a fictionalized account of the life of King David, so I borrowed this book from the library.  While some of it is a bit gory (I had started to read this book several years ago, and didn’t get past the first couple of pages which are filled with a very vivid battle scene), this time around I stuck with it, and by skipping over the gory sections, it made the stories of King David come alive.


Hymnal (Julia Bell)

This is one of the books of poetry I read this year – it is a memoir in poetry of growing up, faith, and queerness in southern Wales.  I bought this book in Wales in April, and having spent the past couple of years learning Welsh (I finished the Duolingo Cymraeg course in July!), I loved seeing the Welsh words scattered throughout (and being able to understand them without needing to turn to the glossary. The author’s ability to paint a vivid picture with few words grabbed me and didn’t let me put the book down until I came to the last page.


Now moving on to the geeky-fun part of the post – statistics from my reading spreadsheet! Some “big picture” numbers:

Number of books read:  57
Best reading month:  A 3-way tie between February, March, and August (7 books completed in each of those months)

Moving on to some of the other data that I like to track:

Paper Books:  25
E-Books:  24
Audiobooks:  8

Purchased Books:  18
Library Books:  37
Borrowed Books:  1
Gifted Books:  1

Fiction:  47
Non-Fiction:  5
Poetry:  4
Graphic Novel:  1

Re-Reads:  7
First-Time Reads:  50

Canadian Authors:  25
Non-Canadian Authors:  32

Non-White Authors:  8
White Authors:  49

Books with Racial Diversity:  38
Books in an All-White World:  19

Queer Authors:  8
Non-Queer Authors:  49

Books with Explicitly Queer Characters:  29
Books with no Explicitly Queer Characters:  28

Female Authors:  51
Male Authors:  7
(Yes, I know that the numbers here don’t add up – one book I read was an anthology with both male and female authors! I probably could have also increased the number of female authors to 52, as one book was co-written by two women.)

I said last year that I don’t set reading goals, but I did set some reading aspirations for the year.  They were:
1) Read 52 books (1/week) – achieved!
2) Read more queer authors – achieved, but barely (4/37 or 11% in 2023; 8/57 or 14% in 2024)
3) Get through some of the books I’ve already purchased, and continue to support the library, rather than purchasing new books – achieved! I shifted from 54% of my books from the library in 2023 to 65% of my books from the library in 2024; and the majority of the “purchased” books I read in 2024 were previously purchased rather than purchased this year. (My book-buying habits have shifted enough that I discontinued the “paid” level of Chapters/Indigo Plum Rewards this year as I’m no longer buying enough books to make it worthwhile.)

In terms of reading intentions for 2025:
- Even though I won’t be on Sabbatical this year, I’d love to read 52 books again this year, and to hold on to that identity as a Reader
- Read even more queer authors. (11% to 14% wasn’t enough of an improvement for me!)
- Read more non-white authors. (This number slipped from 19% in 2023 to 14% in 2024.)

Wishing all of you happy reading in 2025! (And also – if you have any book recommendations, please throw them into the comments!)