St James' Church

Vicar writes - 13 May 2007

As you will know by now, I will be collated as canon in the Anglican Church this evening, along with five other colleagues. The word ‘canon’ is derived from the root word ‘rule’, as in a yardstick to measure by. In the Anglican Church, canon has become an honorary office bestowed on some priests for their distinguished service in some areas of the church. One’s ministry is almost always grown within the life and support of a community. So this evening, it is also something for us here in St James’ to celebrate.

To be honest, I have little self awareness of where my areas of ‘distinguishness’ are in. Since being a parish worker in 1986, it has been one non-stop race, with occasional short bursts of sprints and largely a steady marathon. It is simply about the work and ministry, and trying to be a disciple of the Lord and serving where I can or asked to. I never knew what I would become and I just take each step as it comes. I have served in many different areas, somewhat of a ‘jack of all trades’. It has never been about my vocation but simply the work out there. If I can do it, I will, as it is about Kingdom’s work. I just serve where He puts and lead me. I cannot claim to be completely selfless of course, and like most, I do from time to time clamor for recognition. But the ‘canon’ I have set for my life is to serve as He leads. 

As I mentioned to my Bishop when he first asked me, there have been Canons who have set such a admirable standard of ministry, not just by what they have achieved but who they are. I can think of the recently belated Canon Frank Lomax. For me, Canons like him have ‘immortalized’ that title. I asked for your prayers and support that I may continue to grow into the servant he wants me to be.

There are also many other ‘canons’ in the home. For this reason, we remember our mothers on this special day.  They have set a wonderful example of sacrificial love.  Pardon my indulgence once again, but every memory of my own mum warms my heart. She has been such an influence in my life.

My brother, Clement, surprised me with a poem of his own:

My Mother

My mother, she brought me into this world
Never thought something to be appreciated
Taught me about life as it unfurled
To always love and be great hearted

Who can understand a mothers’ love
We thought it was just her on duty
Arose before the sun ever did
At the market her hands with goodies
We never thought it was mother’s love

Born with a weak heart condition
She nursed and cared through sleepless nights
Always ready to pamper all my petitions
Wonder where my mother got her might

We had moments of rebellion
She waves her cane and we trembled
We thought she was sometime a tyrant
We never knew it was love she preambles

She is always cooking up a storm
And often said this is the norm
Dish after dish often so prompt
Friends from all over savors her form

Young or old, rich or poor
She�s a friend to all she meets
Never a grudge, never any prejudice
Meal is ready when they are at her door

Never could understand what’s mothers’ love
Till we have kids of our own
Soon we realize the trouble she envelopes
Was love ultimate any mother had shown

Now mother is gone, the Lord took her home
We got so used to her voice and her presence
Took sometime to accept mother is not at our homes
Deep inside we miss her overwhelming presence

We wished she could give us a few more years
Now she left us with eyes filled with tears
We know the Lord dictates her years
That�s the only reason we could wipe our tears

I miss my calling her ‘mother’
I miss her love her motherly care
I miss her little thoughtfulness
I miss her scurrying here and there
I miss her many thoughtfulness
I miss my own voice calling ‘mother’

Occasionally it will grip my heart as I realized how much I miss her. I don’t think this is something one will ever get over and in fact I am glad it doesn’t for a mother is a special person in one’s life. For many of you, yours is alive and well. Don’t miss out on the opportunity to communicate your care and love.