God’s Office Hours

Dear People, Neighbours, and Friends of St. Thomas’s,

“Where can I find your office, Father?”

A year into my tenure at St. Thomas’s, that remains a very good question!

In August 2021, I wrote in this space of my nomadic existence, noting that “just as the Son of Man had nowhere to lay his head, so too the eighth rector of St. Thomas’s has nowhere to lay down his laptop. In plain English: I don’t have an office.”

I wrote that letter before we began praying the Daily Office of Morning and Evening Prayer in the quire of the church, and it wouldn’t be until the end of September that we resumed our regular pattern of Daily Mass in the Lady Chapel. Shortly after we reinstated the daily round of worship—so central to the identity of an Anglo-Catholic parish such as ours—a relative newcomer who had begun to show up regularly at Morning Prayer loaned me a DVD about a Trappist monastery in Rogersville, New Brunswick. The prior of that monastery spoke about why the Daily Office, the term used to refer to the round of prayer services each day, whether in a monastery or a parish church, is called the Daily Office in the first place. He said that he thinks of it as “God’s office hours.”

I have thought about that frequently when I take my place in the rector’s stall in the quire for Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer. I am attending “God’s office hours.” I am in God’s office.

And I must say, God’s office is much nicer than mine, which as of this writing still doesn’t exist in any one place. (Neither does God’s office, come to think of it…) When I think about it, I can picture at least six or seven locations that I consider my office.

During the week, I preside over staff meetings in the front parlour of the rectory and have other meetings, both one-on-one and group meetings, there. It is the most private place on campus where one can make one’s sacramental confession while still conscientiously observing Safe Church requirements, which are so important. (The door into the room is made up of glass panels, so one can see inside at all times.)

In the mornings and in the evenings, I can often be found at the kitchen table reading over papers and writing pastoral care cards and sundry emails. When I have a Zoom meeting, it is most often taken in the rectory’s second-floor study. Of late, I’ve also been co-working with Anne in her third-floor office in the rectory. When it’s most convenient, I will work in the Vestry or meet with people there.

But some of my best work takes place over lunch or “coffee” (in my case chai tea latte, as I’m not a coffee drinker). Just this past week, I sat down at a restaurant or in a coffee shop on different occasions with two parishioners, each of whom has been here for just about as long as I have; a parishioner who has been here for decades; a newcomer whose first Sunday was last week; and Eli, our sexton, with whom I’d been wanting to share a one-on-one meal for some time. Each one gave me a great sense of hope in the future of St. Thomas’s and reinforced the sense that God is doing a new thing here, rooted in the goodly heritage of which I am now privileged to be the steward.

Today, I presided over a memorial service for someone I never met in life. He died before I arrived, but due to the pandemic never had a proper Requiem. Later, I met with a couple who wish to be married here. And next week, I have three lunch dates: one with a gifted musician, one with a parishioner discerning the shape of his vocation, and one with a university student considering baptism! The week after that, I have a lunch here in Toronto with the vicar of All Saints, Margaret Street in London—whom I’ve known since he was a fellow in residence at St. Paul’s, K Street, in a program I started when I was there—along with clergy colleagues from a couple of neighbouring parishes, to talk about how we can support each other in our ministries. The next day, I will be meeting for lunch with a daughter of the parish who has had a significant ministry representing the Anglican Church of Canada in ecumenical bodies and the Anglican Communion, and the day after that, I will be lunching with a longtime parishioner who is a noted historian.

In September, I’ll be having lunch with another university professor, and later in the month making a pilgrimage with Fr. Walter Hannam to visit Fr. Brian Freeland on Holy Cross Day, before attending the celebration of new ministry for Fr. Eric Beresford at the Church of St. Mary Magdalene that evening. And at the end of the month, I’m looking forward to lunch with an eminent rare book librarian (emeritus)!

These get-togethers with clergy and laity, with catechumens and the affianced, with those who mourn, with those who are penitent, and with those who rejoice all have one thing in common: Wherever we meet, we are taking advantage of God’s office hours, seeking holy ground, seeking the good of the city, and looking for ways in which St. Thomas’s may flourish as a vibrant witness to the Catholic faith through music, outreach, preaching, evangelism, and pastoral care.

You, too, are welcome to be a part of this grand endeavour. I’m eager to sit down with anyone and everyone who is excited about the future of this parish, or who wants to discern where God is in their lives, whether you are in a time of sorrow, joy, or simply caught up in the daily grind of city life.

It’s easier for me to direct people to my office hours than to my office, because my office hours exist online: rector.youcanbook.me. Since returning from vacation, I’m conscious of the fact that I have quite a few emails to follow up on, so if you haven’t heard from me, I’m always happy to hear from you! And if you don’t see a slot that works for you, I reserve Fridays and Saturdays outside of my online scheduling system to accommodate those whom my regular office hours can’t accommodate, so don’t be discouraged if you don’t see something that fits. Over the next several months, if St. Thomas’s is to get where I believe God is calling us, I will need to have a lot more lunches and coffees (or, in my case, chai tea lattes)! Who knows? One (or more) of them might be with you.

Yours in Christ’s service,

 

Fr. Nathan J.A. Humphrey
VIII Rector