It was the early 1970s when four struggling and shrinking Anglican churches began informal talks about amalgamation, but it wasn’t until late 2000 that they began the formal process to combine.
Two years later, on Oct. 1, 2003, four Anglican parishes — St. George, St. Michael and All Saints, St. John and St. Barnabas — became one under the name of St. Aidan, with parishioners making the former St. John’s building on High Street East their new home.
The first worship service occurred on Oct. 5, 2003, with three priests coming and going over the years before the current incumbent, Rev. Dr. Dean Pinter, arrived in 2012.
To honour the church’s 20th anniversary, it celebrated on the weekend of Sept. 30 and Oct. 1. The former featured an evening of reminiscing about the journey to amalgamation, while the latter featured a special church service with Bishop Helen Kennedy presiding and a luncheon afterward.
Irishman Aidan was a seventh-century bishop who trained in Scotland and brought the gospel of Jesus Christ to Northumbria, England. He walked 480 kilometres (300 miles) from his home in Iona, Scotland, to reach that area of the United Kingdom.
Celebrating the moment
Parishioner Sharleen Langford thought it was wonderful that St. Aidan had reached 20 years, considering it was a tough road that included plenty of sweat, tears and patience. She liked honouring the fact four distinct parishes set aside their differences and formed a new relationship.
“And we survived 20 years. It’s a good thing,” her husband, John, said during the luncheon. “It’s a celebration of bringing everyone together … . It was tough. And it worked.”
He acknowledged that many people left because of the amalgamation, but some eventually returned while new people — including young people and families — joined.
Mrs. Langford grew up at St. John’s and has attended Anglican services in the building for more than 70 years, while Mr. Langford began attending 60 years ago after they started dating; he has been the unofficial maintenance supervisor for 50 years.
Renaming St. John’s to St. Aidan’s wasn’t the only change since there were big adjustments to services and internal physical enhancements, which were tough because of the emotional attachment, she recalled.
The altar was moved, the pulpit where the priest gave sermons was removed — it was turned into a new altar — and the choir moved positions. Also, chairs replaced pews at the front of the church in the newly created chapel.
“That’s what got me to start with. It was the whole atmosphere here that got me,” Mr. Langford said. “Now it’s changed a bit, but I’ve rolled with the punches.”
The celebratory weekend reflects what people can accomplish if they persevere and work together, added Mrs. Langford. Other organizations can do it, even though it’s not easy and is a slow process.
“Nothing happens overnight,” agreed Mr. Langford.
God’s fingerprints
Deacon Arleen Champion, who grew up at St. Barnabas, said amalgamating was what people needed since there was no need for four Anglican parishes in Moose Jaw.
Even as a child, she recalled her father talking about how amalgamation was needed, especially since some churches were sharing a priest. However, no one could make it happen, so the churches continued struggling separately for several more decades.
“God’s had His fingerprints on this through the whole thing, from the very beginning … ,” Champion said. “It was prayer that got us through … . Whenever we couldn’t make a decision, we would stop and pray.”
The amalgamation was also possible because then-bishop Duncan Wallace insisted the joining be grassroots-led, she continued. He didn’t tell the oversight committee what to do or how to do it, which is one reason the amalgamation succeeded.
Champion added that while the 20th anniversary gives the church a chance to discern what its future may look like in 30 or 40 years, she knows God will remain with them.
A pilgrimage to amalgamation
The amalgamation committee approached Wallace in 2001 to discuss the situation and how to ensure the Anglican community survived and thrived. He gave the group his blessing and it began the heavy lifting of becoming one parish.
A professional “change consultant” approached the group after hearing about the project and offered to help them for free, just what the group needed.
The committee realized two churches were inadequate and closed and sold them. Operating costs for the other two buildings were higher than in a new building, while renovation estimates were near to constructing a new building.
For a time after the new parish formed, services were held at St. Barnabas (St. Aidan East) and St. John the Baptist (St. Aidan Downtown) before the former was sold and the latter became home.
Choosing the name
Typically, a bishop will unilaterally name a new parish, but the committee sought ideas from the four churches and received 54 submissions, Champion recalled during the evening of reminiscing. It reduced those names to five while Wallace assembled his own list.
“One (suggestion) that stuck out in my mind was ‘The Church of It’s-Too-Good-To-Be-True,’” she laughed.
The churches voted on their top 3 favourites and sent the list to Wallace, who suggested St. Columba. However, Champion reminded him there was a country church near Buffalo Pound Provincial Park with that name.
Wallace then chose St. Aidan because it was the churches’ top pick and his second choice. Yet, he acknowledged that it was really God who picked the name.
A year of meetings
Carla Hoffmann, who attended St. Michael’s, recalled that the committee worked for a year to bring the amalgamation to a vote. She voted against it because she was happy “with our little parish.” That emotional attachment made it painful when the diocese later decommissioned the church.
After the vote, she decided to “get on board” and help make the new church work. She joined the 12-member committee and spent three hours every Monday night attending busy meetings. She thought the sub-committees made the amalgamation process easier.
“That was a pretty intense year of meetings,” she added.
‘Writing on the wall’
Leona Shepherd and her husband, Rev. Don Shepherd, arrived in Moose Jaw in 1988, with him serving St. Barnabas and Emmanuel Parish in Mortlach.
“We could already see the writing on the wall. Something had to happen because four parishes could not handle … physically looking after these buildings,” she said.
St. Barnabas was a beautiful building and had a big yard, so its members thought that was the best location for the new parish, Shepherd continued. However, that didn’t happen and they had to accept that.
To make the amalgamation process easier, Don retired as a priest in 1999 and they began attending St. John’s.
A helping hand
Luke Johnson arrived in 2010 and initially felt lost during the services because he grew up in a non-liturgical evangelical church that didn’t use books in worship. However, people around him provided support, including Don Shepherd, who usually passed him the hymn or prayer book on the correct page.
Johnson eventually began volunteering, including serving communion. He served Shepherd one time, which surprised the retired priest. However, he later said he was thrilled to see a young person serving in the church.
After Shepherd died in 2012, Johnson attended his funeral and learned more about this “profound man” and the effect he had.
“What he embodied in those early directions is what I have really come to appreciate most about this parish, that it’s a place of practical and personal welcoming … ,” said Johnson.
“In all the years I did youth group stuff (as a leader), there was Don sitting on my shoulder. I want to keep walking the path of Don. I want to be a little Don … . I am very grateful for those early interactions.”
Paying attention to God’s work
When Rev. Dean Pinter arrived, he didn’t come with a vision or program in mind. Instead, he paid attention to what God was already doing in the parish and consciously prayed to be attentive.
“Aidan didn’t bring God to Northumbria. God was already there,” Pinter said. “Aidan had the vision to see what God was doing and to speak that clearly and communicate it so that people could see it too.
“And I think that’s, fundamentally, what good ministry should be about.”
